"No, no! Not like this, attack and back away; you can't remain in range, taking its attention is not your role!" Varcivald corrected the trio from behind; with his left hand, he directed the battle like a maestro, while his staff was firm and shiny; he was sustaining the light and the muffling barrier at the same time.

It was the fifth battle they had had in the darkness of the cave; each one meant having to fight as little as three and as much as eight ants at a time.

Thankfully for their sustaining, the ants did not always require Skill usage to kill, but some of the tougher, Big-bellied ones did; those were the ones which kills were the most succulent.

"You have more than one to hit; just shift your attention to another. It's like a dance Gabriel, find your rhythm! Just don't get in the way of the Tank," continued Varcivald.

"It's easy to say when you're just standing there, directing the show! You know? Third-person perspective makes everything easier!" It was already miraculous that he wasn't huffing and puffing, but he answered back.

"Oh, shut up! Do you think I was born a mage? Every elf starts as a scout; we are all rounded combatants! Now shut your mouth; if you still have so much energy to reply so easily, then you are not giving it your all."

From a platform on a higher level of the cave, Veronica shot arrow after arrow. Every now and again, she would get down to fight in melee and recover her arrows; she would stab the ants with her knife or whip them with her bow's hard.

"You're doing great for someone who has never really fought anything, Mr. Gabriel, don't let master's shouts discourage you," said Bartholomew. As he tanked and bashed with his shield, his other armored hand, armed with dark steel knuckles, came in range of the ants to punch them every time they relented in their assault.

The kid showed to be big for his age, something that Gabriel, going back with his memory of the general observation he had of The Cradle, found it was rather common for any human that had been bestowed with Tank's role to be quite bigger than average.

Is it because they have been bestowed with a Bond Spirit of the Tank or the other way around? He planned to ask that question when he had the chance; however, now was certainly not the time.

Varcivald had let him join the party. But the only thing that he had seen different was a notification about joining the elf, after that nothing had changed for him, no visual input, certainly not and HUD, though for some reason, or maybe a few seconds longer than usual gaze in the air by the elf, the moment Gabriel had joined his party, had made the young man imagine that Varcivald could now have visual access to his Anchor page.

He shrugged at it, focusing on the fights that would be waiting for them.

Ant after ant lunged at them, the group of the enemy had started as six; yet as they got rid of the third, another group of ants had entered the range of the muffling speel, which Gabriel had gauged to span roughly fifteen feet in diameter and affect only ants. This gave an ample amount of maneuvering space, yet he couldn't help but think that the spell was not initially meant to be used that way.

Given the size, it could easily hold six party members, which was the maximum size a party could fit; and that meant six adult sentients. However, Varcivald was dealing with children, which meant a considerably less needed space to maneuver and thus a greater cover inside the muffling dome.

Varcivald had probably adapted this use to his own agenda, or maybe the spell had that size because he wished so. A spell was not a Skill, after all, so it would probably not share the same tethers.

More than once, a new group of ants had joined the fray, from time to time Big-bellied ants and Pincer ants had been mixed with the others; however, they were taken by surprise by the last group; it contained not one, but two, Apprentice Magic Queen ants.

The creatures were ants, the only difference, and quite a striking difference to be fair, was their… well, there were a lot of things.

First, they walked on their hind legs, which they sported four; on top, their back, a female goblin looking creature was standing tall; joined to the ants by a sit of the sort. The goblin legs were entirely fused with the creature, but the rest could move about, so when they did not cast magic, mainly bolts of dark energy, Which hurt like hell! They got in with their claws and jaws.

Gabriel had been disgusted at first, but after slashing the throat of one of them, Level 6 monsters, and seeing how easily they had gone down, he hoped to find more; of course, not everything was cast gold.

In fact, Varcivald had been really weary of having the kids fight them. One of their attacks consisted of a black and thus invisible mist for that environment, which would set their Spirit to zero and give a plethora of other little nasty effects that together could be troublesome. Inhaling that during a battle would leave anybody shaken, giving the enemy enough time to get in and deal with a solid or even mortal amount of damage.

Now, only a Big-bellied ant, a regular ant, and one of the Apprentice Magic Queen ants remained standing. Veronica had long since depleted her Skill usage, and so had her sparrow, and Bartholomew could say almost the same; however, he tried never getting below 1 Energy; he had learned that lesson the hard way.

Gabriel was left, thus the last one with possible Skill usage, even though this last fight had practically seen him finish his reserves of Golden syrup.

In and out, a quickie, as simple as that, I bet she'd even like it, she must have never tested human furniture, morbidly thought Gabriel as he waited for the ant-goblin to show him an opening for his knife to plunge into.

Her pupil-less eyes were of an intense gold, he could say so even though the light was too dim to correctly judge colors.

Then it happened in a second; the creature charged her neck back, then spit forth something which hung in the air, just a blot on the dark environment for their vision, but Gabriel was sure it was the thing that had to be evaded; and it even though Bart had evaded it, he was not conscious of it, and was exactly getting in range of it.

"Don't move!" Shouted Gabriel, his voice colder than usual, which happened when he was working or if he was tense; thankfully, the modal voice stopped Bartholomew in his tracks.

Gabriel plunged in bathing himself in the mist, which nullifying Spirit effect was of no use since he had long been at zero, Liz hiding away in his knapsack. As expected, it came with a plethora of nasty effects, nausea, headache, skin rash, coughing, dry eyes, and other less noticeable things as well.

Yet, those had been enough to render him almost entirely useless.

It was luck that Gabriel had already unleashed his Skill before entering the zone in which the mist was hanging in the air. His sword slashed the creature's throat as he fell over it and profited from the momentum that had built up with his lunge and consequent fall.

The Big-bellied ant was not there for show, though; as Gabriel fell to the ground, she turned her aggressiveness up a notch, launching on him with seething hangry for pieces of him.

Veronica was a well-learned child; she knew that since another person had been added to the party, her role would have switched to that of giving cover to the faster melee striker. She was ready thus, to intercept the ant. An unpowered arrow, still enough to do the job on the level 4 Big-bellied ant, landed on its head.

The rest was accomplished by Bartholomew, crashing both the dazed Big-bellied and the ant he had been holding off at that moment.

At that moment, the muffling spell receded to reduce the probability of another party of ants getting in its area of effect.

They all huddled together, near the lamenting Gabriel on the floor.

"Jeez; I think I'm gonna throw up…"

"Try not to, Mr. Gabriel; you'll feel worse," Veronica said.

"Did you do that to cover for Bartholomew?" Asked Varcivald.

"Yes, it would have been way worse if the Tank had been reduced powerless? No?" Asked Gabriel for confirmation.

"Yes, you are right, still; a warning would have been enough, that kind of Skill can't target; it just hangs in the air. Knowing your enemy is another fundamental part of the job," Varcivald explained. Maybe he was not remotely as crazy as Gabriel had thought.

"I'll save that on my hard-drive… Now, a little break? Pretty please? I can even lay down by the exit if you just help me get there… before I really throw up..."

"Alright, alright. The kids are short on points anyway. No need to be dramatic."

Too late…

"Mr. Gabriel! Bleaaaaah!"

The little Veronica, poorly handled Gabe's bowel emptying.

And the same could be said for Bartholomew when his sister vomited on his greaves.

***

Oh, I think I might have leveled up.

"Varcivald, I think I've leveled up! What do I do?"

"Congratulations are in order, Gabriel. It's your first level up," said Varcivald. He was holding him up without the need for any other help; there seemed to be no effort whatsoever on his part.

They got out of the cave in minutes after the upside bowel movement and sat a few dozens of feet from it. Veronica chose to stand guard for ambushes, too embarrassed for having vomited in front of him.

Gabriel Walker

Race

Human

Level

2 (12.7%)

Class

Striker

Class Level

2 (23.8%)

Spirit

Spirit of The Lizard

Spirit Level

2 (6.2%)

Pools

Life

Energy

Mana

Spirit

5/5

5/5

5/5

5/5

Attributes

Body

Spirit

Final

Affinity

3

0

3

Alacrity

4

2

6

Power

3

1

4

Recovery

2.4 (2)

2

4.4

Resilience

2

0

2

Stamina

4

1

5

Tethers

Bond

Enhancement

Boost

Lizard

None

Alacrity +1

Power +2

Recovery +2

Stamina +1

Skills

Skill

Effect

Slot

Tier

Burst Attack

Increase your Alacrity and Power by 75% for 1 Energy point.

Permanently increases your Recovery by 20%.

Power

2 (4.7%)

Congratulations, Gabriel Walker.

You have reached Level 2.

You have 1 unspent Body Attribute point.

Congratulations, Gabriel Walker.

You have reached Class level 2.

You can increase your Pools by 5 points.

Congratulations, Gabriel Walker.

You have reached Spirit level 2.

You have 1 unspent Spirit Attribute point.

Congratulations, Gabriel Walker.

Burst Attack reaches Tier 2.

New effect: Increase your Power and Alacrity by up to 75% for 1 Energy point. Permanently increases your Recovery by 10%.

"Man… this is gonna be hard. Varcivald, can I ask for your help? A kind dwarf has suggested I speak to class specialists before placing anything, but I can't actually find one right now."

Liz, feeling the instability on herself, got out of Gabriel's bag, looking all tingly.

"Well, I would have helped you all the same; let's see," Varcivald said as he took out a few concoctions to give to his pupils.

"You are an Assaulter. Do you know what that means?" He asked.

"That I'm the guy with a knife in his mouth, armed to the teeth always ready to blow himself up?"

"Not exactly, no. Though some choose to go in that direction. It doesn't take a mastermind to guess how they meet their end. Listen. Right now, you are a blank sheet. Classes are defined as such because of their starting point, but it doesn't mean that you need to follow one precise route," he paused, "every 5 Class level you select a Skill or a Skill evolution for your use only; the Skill pool from which to choose, depends on your experiences and needs, you might even change your Class role with the right choices."

"Wait, do you mean to say that there are people out there that started, for the sake of argument, as a Tank, but have taken the Mystic role?" Gabriel asked, before adding, "Oh, thank you," his condition and complexion starting to heal as he drank a diluted potion handed to him by Varcivald.

"Exactly, there are even Mystics turned Bruisers or whatever kind of mix and combination you might think of. What can't be changed is the first starting Skill bound to your Attribute. That's the only paved road, and yes, it can enhance and sharpen as it evolves, but the type stays the same. Assaulters, for example, rarely turn into mage types. They can take the road of the battle-mage, though; could you explain why is that? Based only on what I just said to you."

Let's see… Attributes and Skills bound to them…

"Maybe, maybe, because a pure magician must bind his damaging Skill to Power, which is something an Assaulter won't ever be able to do?" he said tentatively.

"Hey, that's almost correct. However, Magic does not bind to the Power Attribute, but a Skill which empowers Magic does," said Varcivald, nodding, surprised.

"Damn, I almost got it right, and on the first try! Hohoho! See, Liz, I sucked at school, but maybe I'm good here." But the lizard simply shook her head.

Has she grown a bit? She looks taller… longer.

"Wait," continued Gabriel, "But what do you mean when you say that I'll choose a Skill? How many Skills are there?"

"Oh, too many, but the selection comes to you based on your next highest Attribute, so generally, it is convenient to raise your Attributes in such a way that you can best and sooner raise your build of choice."

"But, who dictates what Skill I will have access to?"

"Well, as I said before, that is tied to your luck, to your build, to the environment, and your personal experiences."

"That's… Messy."

"It is what it is, Gabriel. Power is not gifted; it never was and never will be, but the luck of the draw? That has always existed and shall never disappear. Diversity would cease to exist; how ugly would that be?" Varcivald was casting some Magic on his staff, energy roots entwined around it; Gabriel had no idea what that could be.

"You sound like an anti-racism ad."

The elf chuckled at that, making Gabriel think about how much of Earth did the people on this front know about. They sounded really knowledgeable, if entirely disinterested.

"So, how would you say I go around placing points? And how do I know how much weight to give to an Attribute?"

"Let's put it this way. You are a human, and apart from some Attributes, your upper maximum cannot really vary; however, they do reach a much higher cap when certain conditions are met, but… Bartholomew! What are the basic human Attributes?" Asked the elf before passing the ball.

"They are: 1 to 19 for Affinity, 1 to 7 for Alacrity, 1 to 8 for Power, 1 to 7 for Recovery, 1 to 8 for Resilience, 1 to 8 for Stamina, master!"

"Thank you, Bart." Varcivald turned to the horrified young man in front of him.

"That is… degrading… and up to 19 Affinity? Shit, I got like 3… whatever that is… I suck, really suck… like I'm the scum of a human specimen, except for… well, nothing, I guess… I'm just a total waste of space."

"Hahahaha! No, Gabriel, it doesn't work how you think it does. Though you are a little on the lower than the average spectrum, those are the lowest possible and the maximum possible amounts. They take inborn defects and lifelong development into them. Let's take, for example, Power.

A newborn will count as a human with a power of 1, though it would even be right to consider it less than that, but not for the Anchor page. Now, a man arriving at his thirty-forty years, at the peak of his strength, training only in Power for all his life, will have a maximum parameter of 9. But what does that entail? Sacrificing other aspects of life, is what it entails. So no, you are an average human even with 2 to 4 in the Power Attributes or so," he paused, "Affinity, that really is what changes the most, even for us, Elves; we range from 1 to 34, and there's only been one Elf born with an Affinity for Magic of 34 in our history, a long lost Queen. I'm talking about millennia ago; I myself was born with 15."

"Well… that changes things, I'm not that shitty at least… but what about other Attributes, like Recovery. Why is that so low?"

"That is the maximum Recovery for a human, where 1 includes having a condition slowing your recovery rate, while 7 means having an enhanced DNA, more adapted to a faster recovery; however rare that can be. But what does that really entail? What would happen if you'd bring that Recovery of, let's say 3, to remain in the average, to 6? Can you answer that?" Asked Varcivald, glee in his eyes.

This man- elf really likes his job.

"I haven't the faintest idea…"

"Veronica, what do you say about it?" Veronica got closer to answer, not wishing to shout as her brother had.

"That would mean successfully doubling your normal Recovery rate, so you'd be healing twice as fast as a regular human. A wound that would need closing in a week would heal in three days and a half instead; if you'd bring your Recovery to 12, it would close in a little less than 2 days, and so on."

"Thank you, Veronica." Gabriel opened his mouth wide as if he had thought about something incredible.

Varcivald interrupted him, raising his unoccupied index. "But, of course, there is a catch. There is certain stability you need to reach for something like that to be possible. See, Attributes are linked to each other. You can't have 30 Power and 5 Resilience. Your body would break; you'd need at least half of that Attribute to reach substantial stability. Having a 10:6 rate would be the best outcome to evade any possible problems. So remember that Power is dependent on Resilience, Alacrity to Stamina, and Affinity to Recovery."

"So," said finally Varcivald, with a puff of breath, "I wouldn't worry for Skills until you start unlocking one. There is not much you can do for that; you could try and explore as much as possible around the Den, but there is just so much you are capable of doing by yourself. What you should focus on instead is choosing the next Attribute to raise, and sincerely, given your recklessness and your tight schedule, I would suggest Recovery and Resilience. Recovery makes your Life regenerate faster, Stamina does the same but for Energy, while Affinity helps in replenishing both Mana and Spirit other than increasing your body and Spirit's affinity with Magic." At that, Gabriel thinned his eyes.

"Or just go the Burst Attacker route and dump everything in Power and Alacrity, and get yourself killed. That's your life, after all." Varcivald ended, smiling.

Gabriel turned toward Liz. What should we do, Liz? That was a lot to take in.

She crossed her arms, tongue whipping about, in thought; then she raised an arm, pointing her little finger toward Varcivald.

You say we do as he said?

She nodded.

Although, there's still something missing... hey!

"Master!" Said Gabriel tentatively. There's still something left, though."

"Yes? Which is it?" Asked Varcivald arching a brow.

"What happens every 5 of my basic Level? And about Spirit level? There surely must be something happening with them too, no?"

Varcivald raised his brows all the way up, then, he chuckled. "I forgot you have not been here for long, well, since you really don't know… I'll let you find out when the time comes."

"Oh, come on!"

"Trust me, it'll be worth it."

Gabriel and Liz just showed a quizzical look before asking once again and receiving chuckles and eventually a ladleful on the head.