Book 1: Chapter 57: Revered.

Book 1: Chapter 57: Revered.

I refused to let sleeps grip smother me under as the cleric attended my wounds. Somewhat out of sheer spite, mostly because A small voice whispered into the recesses of my mind that I would not wake for days. The feat I had wrought had proven my worth, and the Thirtieth level awaited me. Messengers from the System, from the Gods Above let it be known that once I lost consciousness, no force would awaken me until the breakthrough had been achieved.

A legendary Skill awaited me, for such a time when I was ready. The unique combination of my class and race, it dangled just out of reach, not yet given to me. Soon.

Hands that knitted my flesh moved quickly, with uncanny precision as clear fluid was scraped out of my wounds and the flesh pulled closed beneath her touch. Red robes clad the woman who attended to me. A stern, drawn face seemed without emotion as she expertly made me whole once more. Not a trace of revulsion or other such weakness lay in her scent as she worked through my insides, everything returned and reattached to its proper place.

You have experience with this. I grunted in pain.

Not the first fool nearly made into a corpse Ive worked upon. Nor the first of your kind. She returned briskly, black hair speckled with grey bobbing as she moved. I grunted as a rib slid back into place, blood coughed up in my mouth.

Whatever Skill still gives you life, cling to it with all your might. She demanded, and I happily obliged.

Thought they just used Fleshknitters here. Was my attempt to make small talk to distract from the pain. I was slumped back against a wall, the woman standing before me. She barely had to bend to stitch away at my chest, her fingers beckoning the flesh closed.

A mockery of godly grace. She snapped. I use no such cheap blasphemy. The Red Godling guides my hands, and through him you are made whole. Now be silent. I have others to attend, and the sooner you are stable, the better.

Why me first then? I almost laughed. Would have, had I not been so utterly crushed in the grasp of agony.

Youve fashioned yourself a bloody hero. came the cranky reply. Now shut up and stop moving.

Her words rang true, I realized. There was a quiet sense of awe in the gazes of those who looked upon me. Some fear buried behind the amazement, so deep I could only smell it. Dazed though I was, I fully realized what I had just accomplished was no small feat. The swarm had been contained by a single minotaur. It was then that I was finally, fully thankful for this body and its strengths.

Even as I sat here, tired beyond belief, the fortress moved around me. The injured needed to be tended, the bodies cleared, massed carcasses hauled away and damage fixed. Duty slowed for no man, I knew. For a time, I sat and observed the ringed fortress moving with life around me as the pain slowly faded.

She stood abruptly, thin gloves pulled from her hands and cast aside. I realized then that her work was finished, and while still sore, I was no longer about to die. At least not immediatly.

With a sigh, I finally released It Will Not Die and felt the breath leave my body as tiredness clubbed me about the head.

Im told you sell this..milk. She asked after a moment spent regarding me. It radiates divinity, yet from no god with which I am familiar.

The empty flask she had handed me, I realized after a moment of confusion.

Indeed. I replied cautiously.

You are the farmer who lives on the path up the mountain, yes?

Again, I nodded. She seemed satisfied with that.

I shall pay you a visit in the future, then.

And with that, the Red Cleric turned and strode away, off to mend the wounded. Someone who took her duties quite seriously was the impression I had gotten, brief though this had been. She had stitched me back up with surgical precision, only the exact amount of power needed to heal each and every individual gash used. Were in not done on my own body, I would have perhaps displayed more fascination as to this and her methods.

For now, I was merely thankful she had been present. It had not been my strict duty to involve myself in this battle, but such had been my choice, and I stood to reap the rewards.

I see. Was all I could give.

I will need to prepare something else for the next assault. So same tactic works twice against the monsters. The swarm watches, and it learns. I fear these are the worst sort of foes.

With that, he headed off along the wall, pausing the repair sections through his magic.

As he said, your ferocity and prowess held the fortress for another day. Commander North smiled tiredly. Ask anything of me, and I will see you rewarded for it. I fo not forget those who render me aid.

Some coin would not go amiss. I grunted and observed the feast for crows that lay below. Although, I do have another request.

Simply ask.

Have your men bring several cartloads of those carcasses to my farm. I assume you know where it is.

He shrugged and said that yes, he was aware.

I have given my word, and it shall be so.

Once more, I found my gaze back towards the dungeon. Its entrance stood in the middle of a cliff face, its entirety ringed by the massive fortress.

He made this, didnt he? I gestured around.

The elf? Aye, he did the bulk of the magical conduggery, helped on by Lord Ironmoors resident wizards and sorcerers. A great feat in its own right, but something within the realm of possibility with his kind.

We watched as Veltons distant form levitated an entire broken section of wall back up, the rock fusing back into its original placement.

Mages. I nodded, my first real taste of what the arcane could do fresh upon my mind.

Indeed. Too fanciful for a simple man like me. My work is done through steel and strength, my battles won with bravery and good supply trails. Let those who play with the Gods gifts stay focused upon my enemies, and not on me, I say.

A good way of thinking of it.

Now come. Your rewards awaits.

With that, he led the way back down the walls, pausing every so often to issue orders and sign some parchment or other presented by an endless flows of people come to seek him out.

But he held his promise, and before long, we were at a tower I found to be his command center.

Before long, I was one heavy coinpurse richer, my pack retrieved from where I had mercifully had the sense of mind to shed it outside the walls. Cold kissed my hide once more, and with the chillvines slung over my shoulder, I set off back down the mountain.

Tiredness gripped every limb I possessed and some I perhaps did not as I staggered into the yard come evening. Within me lay just enough strength to gesture a greeting towards Ishila and Gol as they looked on. The climb up the hill towards my lodge was the longest I had ever endured, and the pillow had just barely touched my cheek before sleep dragged me under.

Unique Class/Race Skill: Brazen Bull Behemothgranted.

Your actions please the Gods Above.