Chapter 10: Quantity or Quality?

“Unlucky that she picked the summoner class, she seemed promising.”

General stone had left his stack of paperwork and quiet contemplation is his office for his war meeting, then having it interrupted by Sarah’s abrupt entrance.

“She is definitively hiding something. Although all that have chosen the summoner class have been useless thus far, or at least in comparison to mages, there is definitely more to her than meets the eye.”

“How can you tell?”

“Normally most can not even meet my eyes under the oppression of my stats, but she seemed far more composed.” The general replied.

“Not that the stats are really useful” one of the commanders grumbled under his breath.

The General, while annoyed at the comment, could not refute it. Status.

Status:

Name: Brandon Stone

Race: Human

Title: Vitality I (+5 Vitality)

Level: 7 Class: Warlord

Strength: 9->15 Agility: 8->9

Wisdom: 9->10 Intelligence: 8->9

Vitality: 8->45[+65](+5) Endurance: 7->13

Charisma: 7->9 Luck: 8->9

Unused Stat Points: 0

Still unhappy at being called a Warlord, he took a look at his class. Class.

Class:

[Warlord]

- A Rare class evolved from both the warrior class and the leader class. Class bonuses of +5 Strength, +5 Endurance.

He was hoping for a class more orientated around vitality, but unfortunately his only featured strength and endurance. At least my titles were not a disappointment.

Equipped Title: Vitality I (+5 Vitality)

Available Titles:

- [Vitality I] Reach 100 Vitality. +1 Vitality. +5 Vitality when equipped.

- [Giant slayer I] Defeat an enemy 10 levels above your own. +1 all. +3 strength when equipped.

- [Leader I] Lead a group of over 1000 people. +1 Charisma. +5 Charisma when equipped.

To counter his curse, he had put all his stats into vitality, which allowed him to hold far more mana inside his body to repel the invading curse. Thank god, quite literally, that the blessing had come when it did, or the curse would have already killed him.

Conditions, he thought.

Current status conditions:

[Blessing of Michael] (+65 Free stat points)

- A blessing from the general of the armies of Heaven.

- For every 10 people that willingly pledge allegiance to both you and the army of heaven, you will gain 1 free stat point.

[Curse of Decay]

- There is undead mana infecting your body, currently fighting against your internal mana.

- You are unable to use any mana until you are cured, or your internal mana is able to destroy the curse.

- The curse is slowly growing stronger as it consumes the mana inside your body.

There were around 6000 people in his camp and spread around it, but only around 650 had pledged their allegiance. He had tried to conscript many more into his army, but they both needed to be at least level 1 and, as a key factor, willing to pledge under him. While with these 65 bonus stat points he had managed to boost his vitality to 110 points, it was still not enough to destroy the curse.

He was surprised that having 115 vitality from his stats and title combined was not enough to defeat the curse, but could only persevere. However, this meant that while he had a huge amount of internal mana from his outstanding vitality, it was of no use to him as he did not want to allow the curse to infect any more of his body.

Which left him in his current position. At least the high vitality makes me a good tank. At this point a bullet wound heals practically instantly, although I can’t help but feel high endurance to make the bullet just bounce off me would be a bit useful, and slightly less painful.

But he knew that vitality had its own uses. He could cut off his own arm and it would heal back instantly, something he knew from practice in his attempt to destroy the curse, but it still resided in him afterwards, as if locked not onto his arm but onto his soul itself.

Perhaps if I had cut it off the moment I was cursed I would be fine, he thought, thinking that if he had destroyed it before it could dig itself into his soul he may have had a chance.

Mourning his indecisiveness at the time, his attention was taken back to the war table.

“A half-giant, the girl said, taking over the southern side, let’s hope this doesn’t push the wolves that were reported there up towards us. Any reports regarding their boss monster?” A commander asked.

“None, we think it may have been the subject of the explosion, however the only confirmed boss death we have is the lich so far. Although it still has its companion.”

The rest of the men around the desk couldn’t help but mutter angrily to themselves, cursing the death knight that had been plaguing their camp with its constant barrage of undead. However, they knew that once they had put some levels under their belt it would be time for them to fight back. Without the lich, the death knight, and the whole undead legion accompanying it, were down a huge portion of their fighting power. It did not take a genius to know they needed a lich to create high level undead, and missing this key component that would have made the undead invasion so deadly, especially considering the corpses that lined the streets, it was instead simply a blight of low level skeletons.

Deciding to take part in the conversation, the general asked some questions himself. “What nationalities have come to our camp? Has it been our city that has moved elsewhere in the world, or other parts that have moved to our city?”

“It seemed we are still predominantly based in what used to be America, but we have had a large influx of Europeans, Australians and Japanese. Overall, it seems people are putting survival ahead of their own agendas right now, and considering we have both the number and strength advantage we don’t seem to be in any risk of losing power.”

He didn’t want to be the ruler, he had always been a fan of democracy, despite his commanding nature. But, with the blessing that required him to lead in order to survive, he found himself thrust into a position of power and was fearful of any opposition.

“Are there any large groups of survivors around us, or is it just stragglers remaining?” The general asked.

“We have identified one group, located at a monastery that seemed to have been transported into the city. They seem to number over a thousand, and likely of greater personal strength than our own. However, their main foe seems to be Level 5 goblins instead of the Level 2 Undead we face, and so their casualties are limiting their progress.”

Another commander took this opportunity to speak; “Surely with so much death and fear in their camp we can poach some of their warriors. They would find it easier to level up among a stronger and more organized force.”

The general was interested in the idea, eager to increase the number of troops under his command, but with a sigh he couldn’t help but state; “Unfortunately our easy levelling has worked against us, as many of the stronger survivors have reached around level 5 and so find the goblins as better prey than the low level skeletons. But we may be able to poach some of those at low levels with the promise of greater safety.”

“We have too much trash in our camp already. If it were not for having converted 200 of them to earth mages for our walls, I would consider it a waste. As it is, that required us to almost serve 200 beasts on a platter to them so they could kill it and plant a seed in their blood to meet the requirement for the class.” One commander rebutted.

And another piped up in support. “What we need is higher level people to lead our forces. The strength that comes with levels means that quality will soon become far more important than quantity. Even if we were to turn 1000 people into earth mages, it would be no more useful against the undead than one strong fighter that could purge their numbers.”

The rest of the table went quiet, knowing that while they were disagreeing with the general by opposing his idea to poach the weaker survivors, they were speaking the truth. However, they did not know about the internal conflict that waged war within the general’s body, as he had yet to tell a single soul about the curse for fear of having them lose faith in him. He himself needed quantity, but it was clear quality would be essential for the survival of his camp in the long run.

The men at the table had already forgotten their prior meeting with Sarah, and did not realize that the quality they so desperately needed had already slipped through their fingers.