The Humble Life of a Skill Trainer

Without a warning, we would have been in trouble. Knowing that something was coming likely saved many lives. While the forewarning was useful, the more critical advantage we had was the wet grass and the hill we camped upon. When forming our camp, it took an excessive effort to move the wagons up the winding path of mud to the peak. Now, the creatures climbing the hill were hindered by their straightforward nature. They knew life was on top of the hill, and they were coming straight for it. If they had turned to follow the muddy pathway, they would have reached us in short order, but they slowly scrambled up the hill directly, and this made things more manageable.

Unfortunately, this didn’t make it easy. A few creatures made it to the top of the hill and approached the bristle of pikes. The weapons jabbed into their bodies knocking them off their feet and down the hill. The initial success was short-lived as the creature clambered back upright and returned to climbing, now with more holes that leaked black blood.

Shouting from his position behind the line, Captain Terrod directed the guards, “Aim for the legs! Knock them down!”

From my position behind the line of pikemen, I watched and waited. I held my two swords in a solid grip, being careful to not tighten my hands so much from the stress that they would cramp and leave them tired when the actual fight came. Snowy and Sir Wincome were beside me, waiting for the line to tire or for an opening where an extra blade could make a difference. Fights like these were the reason the guards carried halberds or pikes. Either the undead, where the creature would grasp and hold, tearing whatever it grabbed, or giant monsters that needed many men and a reasonable distance to kill. Wading in with a sword in the mob of creatures would just be asking to be pulled down and torn limb from limb.

The creatures slowly climbed, more joining every second from the forest. Infrequently I turned to survey behind us to be sure that nothing else was approaching us from behind while we were busy. Luckily, it seemed that we would only be fighting one group of horrors tonight.

The scent of wet grass and mud was soon joined by the putrid sweet smell of decay as the vile things mimicking life approached. Breathing out in a similar rhythm as Snowy’s, I tried to focus on the mana that I had mostly ignored while using [Meditation]. A few seconds passed as I failed to focus beyond the fight, but eventually, the mana moving around became clear. There were two primary patterns of mana: the mage and the mana flowing through the creatures. The mage’s mana pulsed out of him in a line connecting to everyone, and I assumed this was his spell. A thin line of white stretched out like a web, the pulse coming from his hunched and hard breathing form, and spread out like gossamer threads to each fighter. At each swing of a weapon, the line would flicker in brightness, the pulse moving down the connection. Interestingly, the glow from the motes of mana floating in the air pulled into the mage, the colors and shine shifting before flowing out again and into the men.

The undead creatures were different. The mana of the world flowed into them in an unending stream to pass through them slowly and spill out again into the earth. They looked like shattered pots with more cracks than anything to hold the mana inside. Some of the mana that passed through them would shift into one of a hundred colors then soak into the soil, while other flecks would be drawn back in an endless cycle. The creatures that were the least injured seemed to hold more of the magic, the flow entering them draining slower than what left.

“AAAAHHHH!”

The scream was sudden. The guard shoved the pike into the naked undead in front of him with extra vigor and violence. Still, the reason for his outburst wasn’t apparent as he continued to scream. Trying to regain his calm, he shouted out to the Captain over his shoulder while not looking away from the attackers.

“That’s my cousin! It was Merin! Merin!” He yelled, his weapon swaying in front of him as he tried to hold steady against another of the creatures.

One of the veterans shouted, “These are the guards from the fort!” His voice cracking while he strained to throw back an undead that slowly leaked a dark sludge from its wounds.

Looking into the darkness, I tried to count the creatures, but their shifting mass and the shadows hampered my efforts. I guessed that there were roughly a hundred, maybe a hundred and twenty. Most were naked and without weapons. A few had managed to snag sticks that they brandished in awkward grips as they stumbled up the slope.

The wet grass and the hill kept the undead from swarming us, but it also made it difficult to chop at their limbs. Most blows would just knock the undead down the hill and into the mass of the others, unharmed in any way that mattered.

When the guards started to lag from exhaustion, the three of us with swords stepped in to help. Sir Wincome took the side closest to the fortress, Snowy the middle, and I fought at the side nearest the road. Those of the guards with pikes were doing the least amount of damage, but they were also able to stop the undead at a distance and hold them. The pikes would puncture into the rotting flesh and catch on the bones. The halberds were better at slicing off limbs but often failed to keep the creatures far enough away. Captain Terrod remained in the back, calling out commands and shifting the group to the side as the monsters slowly drifted to one direction or the other during the mad scramble.

We were making progress. The creatures were slowly being reduced to biting stumps until one of the creatures suddenly charged and burst through the line of guards to rush Captain Terrod. With a roar, the beast hunched forward and ran on all fours, its back bending in a way a man's couldn’t. Tearing across the field, the grass ripped away in giant clumps that flew through the air. The creature loped forward in monstrous leaps, the black claws stretching ahead to consume Captain Terrod and the mage.

Still visibly tired from the use of magic, the mage gestured with his staff. A shell of magic surrounded him and the Captain, stopping the undead thing’s attack with a sudden impact. Thrown off-balance from the sudden stop of running into a glowing blue shield, the monster again roared as it stared at the mage. With the guards handling the last few undead that hadn’t been disarmed and thrown down the hill, me, Snowy, and Sir Wincome retreated from the line to encircle the more dangerous beast.

The creature was mostly ignoring us to slash at the shield. When we drew closer, it glanced our way only to return its focus to the magical protection when we held our ground.

“When I drop the shield, it will pounce, be ready!” the mage shouted, his voice shaking and strained as the twin flows of magic left him for the shield and the guards.

So saying, the mage dropped his shield. There was a moment where the creature swiped at the air. For all the world, it looked like a cat pawing at a string before it roared and continued its halted charge. Its hesitation gave Snowy a chance to attack, her weapon cleaving down from above and lashing through the beast’s right arm. With sudden useless limb, the creature roared again and turned to attack Snowy. When it focused on Snowy, Sir Wincome attacked, his sword stabbing forward into the beast. Opening its jaw wide, it snapped at the sword embedded in its neck.

Distracted by the weapon in its neck Snowy was able to continue her assault slicing limbs away. With a sword in its throat and both limbs on a side cleaved apart, all the creature could do was push itself forward, snapping as it went. Once it was delimbed, it was quickly chopped up and reduced to twitching chunks. In my mana sight, the lumps of meat were still pulling in mana. The chest and head pulled in more mana, as the limbs slowly started to go dark, the mana filtering through at a slower and slower rate.

The mage was collapsed on the ground next to his staff. Gasping in strain, the motes of mana swirled in giant plumes into his body. While he was recovering, I watched the line of magic that spread through the guards pull back into his body. I made every effort not to seem to be staring. Still, I watched as closely as I could, trying to understand whatever he was doing with mana. To my frustration, it seemed to be just a constant swirl of mana entering his body, no different from that which was affecting everyone else, the main difference being the mana changing inside of him was less than what left.

While we handled the creature that attacked the mage, the guards managed to disable the rest of the monsters. The next three hours were horrible. Firewood was collected into a bonfire. The still twitching parts of the creatures were thrown into the fire, the bodies smoking and failing to burn for long minutes before suddenly combusting.

While the bodies were collected, the Captain checked each beast seeing if it was a former guard from the fortress. There were only a few unaccounted for corpses.

Bending over one of the unknown snapping heads, Snowy waved to me.

“Josh, does this look like one of those mercenaries?” she asked me.

Joining her looking at the beast, I stared and tried to see if I could identify the face covered in black blood and twisted in a snarl.

“Maybe? The one that was riding at the back? I’m not sure. It was a while ago, so yes, I think,” I said, my uncertainty clear.

Snowy gave me a grumpy look before she grabbed the head by its greasy hair and lobbed it into the flames.

“Captain, I’ll use the communication scroll to contact my father. I will take half of the men back to the capital. I want you to station the other half in the fortress,” Snowy said, her voice ringing out to the men who were still sluggishly throwing limbs into the flames.

Terrod looked annoyed for a moment, but then nodded to Alexis and started to separate the troop into teams to return and those who would stay in the fort.

Snowy joined me as I watched the flames lick at the corpses, the fire cleansing them of their unnatural movements. As each body burned, the mana inside would flow out and into the ground. One of the guards was assigned to assist the mage, who was slowly recovering. His cycle of mana swirled in a pulse, like a great beating heart. I carefully watched him from across the flames. His body seemed to fill and return to a youthful state, the skin smoothing again as the mana returned. Only his hair remained aged as his body recovered at a rapid pace. By the time he was helped back to the wagon, his body was again moving like a youthful man.

I held myself in [Meditation] while using the active form of [Teacher of Skills]. I watched the mage’s every movement trying to understand how his magic worked. It wasn’t until he closed his eyes and rested that I developed a plan. When he became still, the mana inside his body slowly shifted and pulsed beyond the outer swirling pattern. The inner core of his body gently glowed as he rested.

Meditation has increased to 8.

Teacher of Skills has increased to 21.

I had never used [Teacher of Skills] to analyze someone as they used their Skill. At least, not so that I could personally improve my own performance. Still, the Skill increase made it clear that it was not just possible but a useful way to reflect on my own Skills. With both [Meditation] and [Teacher of Skills] increasing, I thought it possible that I had finally stumbled upon the road to learning magic.