Chapter 45 The archer's eyes
After this conversation, Cael felt more lost than ever. There was so much to think about: his goals and ambition, his family, the glances soldiers kept throwing at him, Ginevra...
None of these thoughts seemed to go anywhere. They were just terribly distracting.
Cael got himself dinner—the time flew quickly and without his notice—in the field kitchen and retired to a secluded corner of the camp. A tree stump was a good enough seat. He didn't want to talk to any more people, and people didn't want to talk to him.
All for the better. Instead, he addressed the System.
'Blood Mage System, evaluate my current power level.'
'Understood, Cael. Your approximate level of power is weak third rank, based on your known spells, stats, and the analysis of your past battles. Your current stats, compared with mages of the third rank, are: mana—below average; body—below average; mind—slightly below average; soul—average. You also have one upgrade available for purchase.'
Cael sighed. 'You are merciless again, System. I defeated Ginevra, but I'm still 'below average'?'
'The approximation of your stats is based purely on the characteristics themselves, Cael. It doesn't take in the account your ability to use known spells, circumstances of the fight, or your other characteristics.'
'I see. Well, about that upgrade. The queue of upgrades I've given you is done now, right?'
'Yes, Cael.'
He wished his journal was here. He had a neat plan written inside—a plan that didn't seem as good now, after Cael had experienced power and weaknesses of blood magic in a mass fight.
The Oliveira family had plenty of spells in their library, but none higher than the third circle. Besides that, most of their spells, especially the most powerful ones, weren't attacking spells. Since its creation, the Oliveira family specialized in spells that empowered and shielded others and themselves.
Cael had blood magic, of course, but it was much less effective when he wasn't surrounded by a bloody battlefield. Later on, he would either need to supplement his repertoire with other attacking spells, or find another way to broaden his fighting capabilities.
Or just use his own blood. Cael snorted. 'Now that would have no negative consequences whatsoever.'
'Maybe I should invest into crafting talents,' Cael mused. 'This might help not just me, but the entire Oliveira viscountcy. Whether or not I even want to be its lord... This is still the land where I grew up.'
"Oi! What are you doing all the way here, little Oliveira?"
Cael perked up, startled, and saw Ignazio giving him a friendly smile. The archer wore only pants for clothing, but his torso was covered in bandages. The bow still hung on a strap behind his back.
At this moment, Ignazio looked worn, and his face was gaunt. Right now, Cael would've given him a full thirty years. The exhaustion was clearly taking his toll on him, but the man refused to give in. Stubborn energy and love for life shone in his eyes and made his steps look unhurried instead of careful.
This was a man whose glass was always half-full, and with wine instead of water.
Cael began to stand up in greeting as Ignazio approached his seating spot, but Ignazio stopped him with a wave of his hand.
"No, don't rise! I'm no lady and this is no dining room." He sat on the ground a meter away. "Well?"
"Hello! Just call me by name, Ignazio. And I should be the one asking the question." Cael gestured at Ignazio's wounds.
The archer huffed. "No, no, don't give me this lecture, too. Everyone else did. Those are just scratches! I better leave the bed to someone who suffers more. Anyway, after your spectacular fight this morning, I'd expect you to be drowned in applause. Not to hang here like a ghost."
Cael raised his eyebrows. "Really? I'm pretty sure I'm a demon, not a ghost."
"Oh, that." Ignazio cringed. "I've already given a few smart-mouths know what my fists think about that horseshit. After you saved them, they should be singing praises to you even if you had just crawled from Hell with a few damned souls pinned on your horns."
"Really?" Cael's eyes narrowed. Ignazio was honest to the bone now, which was surprising by itself, but... "Do you believe the rumors yourself, Ignazio?"
The archer shrugged. "I only believe things I see with my eyes—but those, I never doubt. Your father's leadership, Nuvoloso's strength, your magic... Was it demonic? I don't know. Does it matter? I don't think so."
Cael chuckled, smiling. This was nice to hear. "Then you are a very rare kind of person. What, don't you have any desire to guess things you don't know?"
"Of course I do! I just never believe them. Guesses are just that. I can guess that you eat babies for dinner, but would that be true?" Ignazio raised his brows and threw a sharp glance at Cael's discarded dinner bowl. "Unless a baby can fit in here."
Cael's smile widened.
"Maybe it was a stew from a baby," he teased. "Where's the nearest village? You should check if it has any babies missing."
Ignazio chuckled. "Man, I'd wish to go to a village. A proper bed, a plump widow to warm it... Just what you need after a fight like today's. Hey, since we are going straight to Sanremo di Mare now—want to party together when we get there? Someone has to show me your city's best brothel."
"Sure," Cael lifted a fist, and Ignazio bumped it, sealing the promise. "I already did that this year, when my little brother turned eighteen. I couldn't just leave Vittorio a virgin, could I?"
"The best brother ever!" Ignazio burst into laughter, and Cael joined him.
"Really, I just wanted to tease Vit," Cael admitted a dozen seconds later. "I had to one-up him SOMEHOW... But then I show him to all the girls, and they start to coo at how cute and innocent he is. Bullshit!"
Ignazio laughed louder, and after a moment of pouting, Cael rejoined him. Life was good.