I pouted as we flew back to Exterreri, moving through a cold and wet cloudbank. Made us a little harder to see, a little harder to find, even as rain pelted my face hard enough to bruise. Well, if I was a normal human, anyway. Auri had her Lava ring of rocks spinning around her at furious speeds, the entire thing blurring into a solid-looking ring of dozens of glowing colors. Steam hissed and sizzled off the rings as she impacted raindrops, muttering to herself how she hated the weather.
Which, to be fair, was pretty miserable when you were a phoenix made out of fire.
We’d gotten hit by something nasty at the last city we were at, and my wonderful spellbook of [Greater Invisibility] runes had bit the dust. [Clad in Twilight] was a solid armor skill, but [The Arbiter of Life and Death] didn’t have anything to do with books the way [Sage of Tomes] did, and the vitality protection didn’t extend to books the same way it did to my clothing, armor, and weapons. I was already tracing out more runes into a spellbook, but not as aggressively. Not as full.
Blank spellbooks were now a difficult to replace resource, and I needed to conserve what I had. I couldn’t just snap my fingers and create everything needed to make paper, let alone good paper. Fuck this whole war thing.
“We were only helping.” I sulked. “They didn’t need to be that aggressive about it.”
Iona patted my arm, her other hand massaging my neck in exactly the way I liked. My eyelids fluttered as her distraction worked exactly as she intended it to.
“Looking for the Sixth’s convoy now, yeah?” Iona asked. I reluctantly tore myself away from her tender ministrations.
“Yes... but no. We’ve done a lot for me, my people, and what I want. What about you? Is there anywhere you want to go? Any miracles the Moon Goddesses want us to perform on their behalf? A favorite place, a person who needs to be rescued? Finding Nina, Alruna, anyone?”
It was like I’d dropped a load of bricks on Iona’s back.
“I want to make it back to Sanguino and Orthus quickly. I do know once we’re there we’re unlikely to move around lots, and I do want to keep helping people. When do we stop? The balance is hard, and I don’t know what the right answer is.”
I went quiet at that, mulling it over.
“I don’t know what the right answer is either.” I said as Auri hopped over to us, fluttering up to my shoulder. “The dozens of people we know and are close with, or the millions of strangers. I sound like an ass saying it like that, but...”
“But there’s always another stranger.” Iona finished my thought, nodding. “And we’ll never say no to them. But where’s the line, when do we stop to look after our own house? What’s right?”
“When do we look after your needs, versus my desires.” I concluded.
“There’s no good answer, all we can do is follow our heart.” Iona said. “How do we feel about this: Exterreri’s friendly territory. We’ve got maps of the cities. Let’s zig zag east, buzz cities we haven’t visited before, circle Sanguino, and see what’s going on at Orthus. Settle them, see what we can do to fix as many problems as we can there, take a week or three or eight. Then we all hop on Fenrir, and tour cities until we drop.”
“Brpt!” Auri wanted to put a hard limit on how long we stayed until heading out again.
“There might not be any cities by then... but that’s a thought, hang on.” I said. “Massa collapsed fairly quickly, but it’s not like other cities and towns aren’t going to have similar problems, just on a longer timeline. Auri’s right. After a certain point, going back out is almost pointless, there isn’t the grain moving around to support large population centers, there won’t be high density targets to heal and assist.”
A thousand bunkers scattered all over the world, yes. A hundred thousand farms, absolutely. But no easy ‘we can do so much good’ centers.
“Eight cities.” Iona proposed. “Let’s keep going until we hit eight empty, dead, or destroyed cities in a row, then head to Orthus. That can be our signal that enough has fallen apart that there’s not much more we can reasonably do, and we should start tending to ourselves and our homes and loved ones.”
The idea was like a balm on my soul, a way to relieve the part of me that screamed fly and save with every fiber of your being until you drop dead. Those with power should use it.
If I couldn’t find anyone to help, then it only made sense to stop, circle back to people I could, and look after them and my family.
“Agreed.” I said. “Auri? Fenrir?”
“Brpt!” Auri was all for it. The Phoenix Peaks were a little short of invincible, and she’d already accepted her nest, flower fields, bakery, and home as a loss. However, perhaps, maybe, we could make it four cities in a row, not eight.
I... wasn’t ready to accept them all being gone. We didn’t know, they could still be there.
“Fenrir? Anything to add?” Iona asked. He snorted, and said the one word that summed up his perspective.
“Case.” He said.
“Alright! Let’s go!” Iona whooped, and we were off.
Fenrir dipped down below the clouds and we scanned around.
“River there.” Iona pointed out.
“Mountains to the south... as usual.”
“Detail, I’m going to borrow you for a moment. I need a [Scribe] who can rapidly make copies.” I pointed to two of Leona’s soldiers, then popped into my [Tower].
First up was breakfast-lunch-dinner for Iona, Auri, and myself, then a heaping helping of raw meat for Fenrir. It wasn’t going to be enough for him, but it should take the edge off long enough for him to try hunting. I then grabbed several bags of seeds - mainly wheat, it was an easier crop - and a single sample of a variety of unusual farming tools.
I teleported back out and dropped most of the supplies in front of one of the soldiers I’d commandeered, [Teleporting] lunch to Auri, Iona, and Fenrir. Iona smoothly grabbed hers out of the air, and Fenrir blurred as he simply snapped, grabbing his dinner whole to the startlement of everyone else. Auri completely fumbled it - but it might have been on purpose, trying to be a bit of a comedian in the face of disaster and ruin.
I mentally flicked through the minor disaster that was my [Library], pulling out an eclectic variety of books and blueprints. Honestly, if I’d known everything was going to go to shit so quickly, I would’ve raided a few extra libraries. A tiny part of me mourned at the necessity of moving quickly and rapidly to save lives, that I couldn’t justify dropping down onto so many abandoned cities and looting their libraries clean.
Perhaps when things were just a little more settled I could try. I’d hopefully get to them before the rain and the bugs destroyed them all.
[Luminary Mind] continued to let me do multiple things at once, and I [Teleported] the various tools I’d grabbed onto a soft landing before they could all fall - I didn’t want to be standing here awkwardly juggling a thresher, among other things.
“Detail, these are some useful tools. See them secured and organized.” I ordered.
I could see the brief flash of despair deep in his eyes as he saluted, one I knew well. The ‘superior in the chain of command has given me an impossible order, and now I’ve got to figure it all out myself.’ I only felt a little bad.
“Sentinel, as you command.” He said.
I devoured my own lunch while waiting for the [Scribe], starting to get impatient. Sure, it had only been a minute since I’d sent the soldier off for one, and they couldn’t move at a multiple of the speed of sound, but time was lives right now.
I saw them hurrying over a moment later, and three quick [Teleports] later I was in front of them, sending the poor woman jumping a foot in the air.
“I need you to make three copies of each of these as quickly as you can.” I handed her a sheaf of papers, flipping open books to various pages and marking them. “Also, a copy of each of these pages. Then file them away, let the Optio know what you’ve got and where. These are important, they could save your life.” I stressed.
The [Scribe] nodded without a word, simply picking up the first paper with ink-stained hands. A blueprint of how a simple fishing boat was put together. With the Sixth settling down on Lake Mare, they’d need all the fishing help they could get, and it wasn’t a given that they had any [Shipwrights]. The Legion had many skills, but [Siege Engineers] weren’t usually taught how to make boats. With a skill letting her hover the paper in front of her, she flicked the page with her left hand, then pulled out three blank pieces of paper. Each flick of her right hand on the page perfectly copied the contents over, creases and all.
I left her to her work. I’d included everything I thought Katerina could use for the budding town she was trying to flash assemble. Boats, designs, farming techniques, agricultural practices. My heart of hearts really wanted to include science, philosophy, history, a dozen cultures and more, but I forced myself to be pragmatic. There was more to do, more places to go, more people I needed to help, and the world wasn’t entirely on my shoulders. Maxlin, the [Alchemist], had his own notes and knowledge, and he wasn’t the only one.
My shoulders were not the only ones trying to hold up the sky.
I was the only one with the healing power and mobility, and a quick analysis of my stats suggested I might be the literal best in the world.
Black quality classes were rare, even for the best of the best. No matter how much the elves declaimed cycling the end-all be-all for class quality, it was nearly impossible to brute-force a black class. The strongest ease of access to quality class ratio I knew of was [Loremaster], where simple knowledge and the will to do something about it granted a modestly high quality class. There had to be a few more, hidden, secret, around somewhere, and dragons were known bullshit, but generally it was hard to get the highest quality classes.
Each level I got in [The Elaine] was worth four-ish levels of a - low quality - dark purple class, eight-ish levels of a light purple class, and sixteen-ish levels of a blue quality class. Being a Sentinel of Remus, one of humanity’s only defenders, fighting back the Formorians, being a Ranger, going on various missions - that had only been worth dark green.
One level of [The Elaine] was worth thirty two levels in a dark green class, and that quality had impressed the elves I’d met once upon a time.
I was approaching 600 levels in maximum black-quality classes. 581, to be exact. That was the same stats as 18,592 dark green quality levels, which was impossible. A Classer would cap all three of their classes before being able to gain that many levels. It wasn’t quite that simple - high level classes gave more stats per level-quality than low level classes - but the idea remained.
Before my [Oath], I was potentially stronger than a level 4000 healer with average class qualities, if average were dark green or even blue quality!
Before[Oath].
I wasn’t going to try and work out relative skill qualities, but I knew I had some of the best of the best.
Then how many healers were as durable and quick as I was? As speedy as Fenrir, as able to go into hostile territory and enforce their desire for nobody to die like I was?
No, I didn’t think it was ego talking when I believed I was one of the best in the world, possibly the best in the world.
Anyone, arguably everyone, could rebuild civilization. Could copy blueprints, find old books, reinvent old discoveries.
Only I could heal people the way I did, and that’s where my time was best spent. The Sixth had their own lines of [Healers], I was almost redundant when it was more ‘peaceful’.
As soon as we were rested enough, we’d be back in the air, doing everything we could.
It would have to be enough.