[57]

The sun was a few hours from rising, but team seven was already on the move. Stars twinkled in the morning hours, watching us trudge through fields of dew-covered grass. Plains stretched out before us as far as our eyes could see. Well, maybe as far as my eyes could see; everyone except Gene had night vision, but none as good as mine.

I was more thankful for Vascora’s gifts than ever. Besides the sight, my Magesilk armor kept my boots from getting soaked and made it impossible for insects to get to me. After another week of hard team training, the spell finally made it to Rank 3.

Gene Pew pushed us hard during our training. Not as bad as Cen-Boleman would have, but enough that I saw gains in other areas beside my spell. Constitution was the first attribute of mine to make it to 8. It was an enormous accomplishment, I’m told. And, if I am being candid, after all the points and effort I put into it, it would have upset me if it had not increased.

Under Pew’s guidance, we learned tactics, formations, and call signs. The ascendent of Koth spent a lot of time working with us on using terrain to our advantage, and arguably more important, how to deduce where an enemy was likely to ambush us. He took an indulgent amount of glee from jumping at us where we should have expected and beating us with a large stick. Even with my mage armor, the blows were painful.

My poleaxe skill finally hit rank D after all the non-stop training and dangerous dungeon runs. I immediately used the skill point I had saved to bring it up to Rank C. Now, I was as good with the weapon as someone that had been training for years!

I learned from Gene that hoarding skill and attribute points was a terrible thing to do. Apparently, the gods do not look favorably on those who try to “game” the system Ainu created. Attempting to do so would cause them to be less benevolent with future quest and advancement rewards. Learning this was a great shock to me, and I asked him why no one had mentioned this in my Introduction to Classes class. Gene said it was because usually only Rank 2’s arrive at Ashmere, and no one progresses past that until their excursion. That I had used so many points to advance myself was highly irregular. The information would have eventually been taught to me in preparation of earning essence through the traditional means. I prayed to Vascora for forgiveness, but was still more miffed at Ashmere than I was apologetic. Ultimately, I suspected my goddess would not hold it against me.

Besides my Constitution, both my Strength and Agility increased by 1. I continued to do nightly readings on monsters, plants, and alchemy. Alone, reading about those things was not enough to increase my respective skills in Herbalism and Alchemy, but I hoped doing so would continue to increase my intelligence and Monster Lore. That said, I was sure that even Monster Lore required field experience to continue ranking up past a certain threshold.

Pursuit of different fields of study was one of the better ways to increase Intelligence, I learned. It was not knowledge itself that made your Intelligence higher, though that did not hurt, but having a larger basis of ideas to parallel with and against. More information at your disposal increased your mental versatility, and that was ultimately what the Intelligence attribute was about. Ashmere referred to it as the “King of Skills” for that reason—Intelligence grew with the more skills you learned, and growing it, in turn made it easier to learn new skills.

My newly gained Survival skill also advanced after two weeks of constant training to Rank E. Setting up camps, hunting, and navigating were all expertise within that skill’s domain. Having lived most of my life in a comfortably sized manor, it surprised me to find that I resolutely enjoyed the outdoors. I was not at the point where I wanted to move into a cabin, but I felt sufficiently enthusiastic to live off the land for the next few months. When the others learned I had skills in Cooking and Skinning, they all agreed to make me do those tasks. My time with Rollo and Saewulf, who taught me the skills, had been no different, and I did not mind doing them.

My progress had slowed down since I first arrived at Ashmere, but I was nonetheless pleased.

On the last day before we headed out, I went to the tower to spend the contribution points they gave us as a bonus for going on the mission. I did not feel like the bonus was a true benefit, because the points would do me no good to save. Not with the immediate possibility of an awful death, anyway. Originally, I debated using 100 points to reach rank 6 and banking the rest for another time. Thinking I could use the rest to help bring up my neglected Enchantment Curses skill. However, I consulted with my team, and they convinced me otherwise. Gene explained that 100 essences would not be that difficult to reap from the undead. To his mind, spending points on advancement was an utter waste. I did not tell him about the nearly 1,000 points I spent doing just that. His insults were bad enough already.

Instead, after talking it over with Joy, I searched through the cheaper magic items until I found something suitable for the journey. At a discount for the mission were rings that were enchanted with the resist disease spell. I talked it over with a tower attendant, learning that the bands were specifically valuable against Gozmyr’s blight, and that anyone with a lick of sense had one. After telling my team, we all purchased a ring for 200 contribution points, even Izzy.

We trekked northward under the dawning sun, silent but in reasonably high spirits. On the horizon was our destination, a hazy blur from our current distance called the Blacknail Mountains. Team Seven’s objective was to head nearly straight north from Ashmere to the foot of the mountains, then work our way east.

Ours was not a painless mission. Ashmere expected it to be more dangerous than the other teams further south. Monsters besides Gozmyr lived throughout the range, and unruly bandit tribes that bristled under the rule of Ergentein made the harsh land their home. They expected us to skirt the mountains, looking for stragglers while doing our best to avoid the constant danger. It was a hellish assignment of an order of magnitude worse than a first year excursion to the yellow zone of the Ruinlands.

Worse, within the deep caves of the Blacknails was where Gozmyr itself rested. Supposedly, below the earth were the ruins of the once great Umbrakin and Stoneblood dwarf kingdoms, along with their undead ancestors. At any time, the undead in the mountains might claw their way out of the frozen ground and ambush your party. Our commander, Instructor Rohan, told us that the oldest and most powerful undead resided there, but never left. Gozmyr kept them near it in that awful state of undeath, never allowing the ascendent to get through its maze of horrors so that we might end its threat forever.

Instead, we had this awkward stalemate, where the weakest of the infected constantly headed south to poison the living, while we left the abomination to its own devices.

Learning this from the instructors pissed me off, at least initially. I questioned the decision almost immediately, naturally concluding that a person in the Ministerium must have wanted us dead. Why else would they send us toward the most dangerous quadrant? I had just learned to fight!

Gene stepped in, explaining that they looked at our team as the best. I was skeptical, especially when I learned his reason for that confidence was because he said, “Gene Pew is on the team, duh.” However, Izzy confirmed this for the truth, telling me in no uncertain terms that she would not go off and die for the shit pay she makes. Knowing her as well as I did, I had to accept that reasoning.

Despite hostility, rudeness, and bluster, our team leader turned out to be an extremely capable warrior. It shocked me to discover he won last year’s tournament, receiving multiple offers of the highest honors from different kingdoms and warlords. That feat even impressed Raxx. More impressively, Gene turned all the offers down, stating that only the Ruinlands could give him what he wanted. And it was no mystery what it was he ultimately wanted: Battle. I could justly say that I had never met someone that loved challenges as much as Gene Pew.

It was not all honey and sugar, though. His combative attitude continued to provoke Joy, and she needled him back thrice as much as he did her. Gene did not appear bothered by her constant and hilarious verbal abuse. But I was afraid it might throw off our group dynamics at an important time. We all depended on him for his experience and leadership, and if Joy did not respect him, she might not listen. Of course, if that happened, Gene had only himself to blame.

Further complicating the sentiment, Joy learned from other third years that Gene Pew was a sole survivor twice over. During his two excursions into the Ruinlands, he was the only one of his teammates to return each time. None of us directly confronted him on this, but together with his habit of shitting on everyone all the time, we did not feel explicitly inspired.

One night Team Seven and Izzy got together for an impromptu meeting, deciding that we would refuse an order of his that was too absurd. Gene was naturally absent at this meeting. I think I was the only one of us that felt any guilt for it, arguing that we should at least give him a chance to prove us wrong. Joy and Raxx disagreed, saying that one mistake was all it took for us to join the horde of undead. Izzy, who was not under his direct command, remained silent. Still, it felt wrong to judge the man on his history, especially since we had no direct knowledge about the tragedies he endured.

Speaking of Izzy, to my surprise Gene Pew gave the dwarf nothing but respect. Aside from being the God of War, Koth was also the patron of veterans that had fought in wars. Gene regarded Iza-Cen-Boleman with astonishing dignity, consulting her on advice and asking for her battle stories. Truly, except for when he spoke of combat and tactics, talking to Izzy was the only time he seemed like a useful person in society.

We maintained silence during the journey, save for the occasional boosting laugh from Raxx.

Near the end of the first day, Raxx halted us. His senses were by far the best of the group, and even Pew respected them.

“I smell humans,” Raxx said.

Izzy searched the area, finding an extensive set of tracks heading in the same direction as us.

“A large party of humans this far in the north? Bandits would be my guess,” she said.

“This close to Ashmere?” I said, not convinced.

Izzy shrugged. “We can’t be everywhere.”

“Who cares? If they attack us, I’ll kill them.” Gene said.

We continued, but I had a bad feeling.