Chapter 11: Advancing

Chapter 11: Advancing

The sun bore down on him as Reivyn trudged along. The heat of the early summer was causing him to sweat, even if the physical exertion wasn't too demanding. The trees to the sides of the road could be seen swaying with the wind, and a cool breeze was a welcome comfort.

Or, at least, it would have been if he wasn't surrounded by other men, marching in formation blocking all avenues for the wind to reach him. It would have been if he wasn't attired in full kit and gear, helmet blocking any stray wind that managed to weave through the ranks to whisk sweat from his brow. As it was, the wind was nothing but taunting.

Reivyn had spent two of the expected five days on the journey towards Magron, "The City," as it was referred to. He had acquired the Skill March shortly after training in it on the second day, and now was putting it to good use in formation with the regulars. The beat of drums regulated the steps of the march, with the loud, deep strikes signalling when to place the left foot.

It turned out that Teilon was quite prophetic, and a small minority of the conscripts had, in fact, only just obtained the Skill. There was a difference between structured training and actual, long hours of sustained activity with a purpose. The only ones who suffered from their lack of unlocking the Skill in a timely manner were themselves, as nobody was going to wait on them. Suffering itself, it would seem, was quite the motivation.

The Marching Skill didn't make the troops walk any faster. The main difference that Reivyn noticed as his Skill levelled up was less aches and pains in his back, legs, and feet.

The outfit had waited, and trained, five days for the surrounding conscripts to all arrive, and then they had spent one more day of rest before setting out. The combined levies extracted from the surrounding villages were actually slightly less than enlisted from Haluville alone. Reivyn easily unlocked the necessary Armor and Shield Skills in the interim with Brace's tutelage. Being able to use the shield and parts of the armor as active weapons had accelerated the growth in those Skills, and even now, after two days of near continuous Marching, those two Skills were higher than his March Skill.

Skills: Acrobatics (26), Aim (17), Akashic Record (1), Athleticism (31), Balance (34), Command (0), Drawing (16), Dreams of the Past (13), Eavesdropping (20), Evasion (22), Haman (20 MAX), Hiding (24), Identify {Mundane} (18) Inspire (3), Linguistics (10), Mana Absorption (38), Mana Sight (14), Map Making (6), March (9), Mathematics (14), Medium Armor (13), Mental Fortitude (20), Numbers Concepts (8), Observation (27), Pain Resistance (23), Penmanship (21), Piano (0), Pickpocket (6), Running (30), Sense Mana (42), Shields (15), Sneaking (19) Spatial Awareness (1), Stealing (9), Stealth (14), Strategy (0), Swimming (0), Tactics (1), Weapons Master (22)

He glanced at his Skills tab, effortlessly multitasking by focusing on a blue box while maintaining his steps and positioning with the assistance of the Skill.

I wonder if it's possible to single out certain Skills? Decker did say there was great utility in the interface of the System.

Corporal Decker had called him out to continue their one on one discussion after the evening training session that first day.

"The Adjutant has explained to me that you are versatile, and that I should expect an equal level of mastery in a wide variety of weaponry. So, with that in mind, what are your Physical Stat distributions?" Decker asked.

"24 Strength, 24 Dexterity, and 26 Vitality," replied Reivyn.

The older man's eyebrows raised a bit at the revelation, having only known that he had a Vitality score of at least 20. After a couple seconds of thought, he remarked, "Good. You're not an idiot. As someone versatile, it is more beneficial to maintain a balance between Strength and Dexterity. Dumping more points into Vitality, when necessary to maintain that balance, is never a bad thing.

"It's not always beneficial for a Fighter to maintain a balance, as it is largely dependent on the Skills focus one has. The Fighter Class is designated as a Rare Tier 2 Class, despite its fairly mundane name, because of its wide range of possibilities without losing any power for any of them. I, myself, focus more on the heavy weapons, but there are a couple others who focus on the more dexterous weapons.New novel chapters are published on

"Now, you might be asking yourself, 'but corporal, we all have spears and swords with shields.' That is true, but it only applies to formation fighting. There are instances, such as individual squad patrol, where we can use our own personalized weapons. One of the things about you being versatile is that I, and our squad mates, can expect the same level of competency in both forms of action.

"The three different types of focus also have their own, unique Mana Circulation pathways. As a heavy focus, my pathways center around the meridians located in the larger muscle groups, dexterity focus centers around the meridians located in the smaller muscle groups and joints, and versatile Fighters... Well, after generations of extensive research, it has been found that, actually, the System provided Mana Circulation pathways are the most efficient. There won't always be secret methods that are superior to what the System provides.

"I'm sure you're aware that everyone has mana, and exercising your Mana Circulation is important, so don't slack off and make sure you do it at least once every day feasible. Even those with a zero Magic Stat have some internal mana, and before you ask, no, you don't have to disclose whether you have it or not.

"The System is vast and unfathomable, and there are many different things it is capable of. I, and almost everyone else in the unit, use it to maintain the time. Have you ever wondered how our unit is so punctual without any apparent instruments of time keeping? Well, there you go.

"So, any questions for me at this time," the corporal gave the symbolic gesture.

"Actually, yes." Reivyn quickly interjected before the man could leave. The corporal, not put out, gestured for him to continue, and he simply asked, "Can you teach me the time thing?"

Decker gave a small chuckle, "It's no secret. You just have to know the exact time, and accurately count out a minute in your head. That's it. Here, I'll help you."

Reivyn's thoughts came back to the present as he spotted the inconspicuous time stamp in the corner of his vision next to the blue notification dot. It had been easy to acquire, and he had quickly reciprocated by teaching his friend Teilon and the other two tent mates.

Reivyn mentally fiddled with his Status as they continued moving ever forward on the road. Suddenly, a new box popped up in his vision.

Recent Skills:

March (9)

Medium Armor (13)

Shields (15)

There it is. That'll be more convenient in the future.

The troops came to a crisp halt as one of the Scouts approached the Knight-Captain from his excursion. The levies performed more of a meandering, gradual stop more than anything resembling a halt. Not only were they not as Skilled as their professional counterparts, but, quite frankly, they didn't care nearly as much, either.

The commander was competent and had several men on horseback to keep vigil all around the formation. The Knight-Captain gave an order to the Scout that Reivyn couldn't hear, and as the man moved towards the opposite direction he had come from, the commanding officer pulled out his token. Reivyn couldn't get a good look at it, but it was definitely a different material, and did something with his mana that Reivyn could just barely perceive.

"Contact, right," the Knight-Captain's calm voice spread over the entirety of the unit, professionals and levies alike. "Scouts report a small goblin tribe heading our direction. Sergeant Mok, take a platoon to reinforce the levies. Knight-Lieutenant Brand, you have command."

This was actually the first time Reivyn had heard the Adjutant's name. The calmness with which the Knight-Captain commanded and the others obeyed helped to quell the rising butterflies in his stomach. This was the first time he was ever going to be in a true, life or death situation, and no matter how he had trained and had confidence in himself, he was still nervous.

"Align Right," came the command from the Knight-Lieutenant. The unit dispatched to retrieve the levies was a company made up of three platoons. With one platoon sent back to the recruits, the two remaining platoons faced the right and came together to form one long line. Reivyn found himself in the third rank after the shift.

Reivyn looked down at the still breathing goblin then back up at all of the other squad members who had gathered round. The butterflies were back, and he felt extremely nervous. He had never killed anything before. He had never intended or wanted to kill anything before. His weapons had only ever been used in practice.

He knew that there was no getting out of this experience, and the longer he took, the more respect he would lose. Before anything could happen, he took a deep breath, gathered his courage, and thrust his spear as hard and fast as he could towards the downed creature. He tried to convince himself that he was aiming to stab his spear into the ground behind it, and not to use it to extinguish a life.

The vision of bright red life's blood squirting up into the air seared itself into his mind, forever. The sound of the metal tip tearing through flesh was distinct, and the feel of boring through skin, sinew, and bone clearly travelled up the spear into his hands. He kept his eyes wide open, not to relish in the victory of killing an enemy, but so that he would never forget what taking a life was like.

As soon as the light went out of its eyes, a surge of energy swam through his veins. It felt like a cloud gave him a tender massage from the inside out, and all of the stress and anxiety that had built up evaporated with its passing.

He jerked his head up, wild-eyed, at Corporal Decker. "What was that?" He asked.

"That," Decker responded, "was your first taste of Euphoria. It is the way the System protects the minds of people who fight and kill monsters. How do you think so many people can take up combat classes and not becoming gibbering lunatics from a lifetime of fighting and killing?

"This is an important lesson that everyone has to learn. Even the Adventurer's Guild's initial test is designed to introduce this to its newest members. Now here's the important part: This only applies to monsters. This does not apply to animals or their higher levelled cousins classified as beasts, and it certainly doesn't apply to other people. In fact, if the System deems it, killing an innocent person would cause an equal, opposite reaction.

"It's the main reason murder rates are so low, though there are psychopaths and people with Skills and/or Classes that mitigate it. Not sure why the System would have such a punishment in place to only help some prevent it, but what do we know about the System?" He shrugged.

"Alright, everyone, back to work," he ordered. The squad continued its duty of exterminating the pests. It was standard procedure that everyone, even the city folk, understood that if given the opportunity, a goblin tribe needed to be slain to the very last one. They had a remarkable tendency to bounce back from devastating losses quickly, unfathomably even if only one survived.

Reivyn no longer hesitated, and he personally slew two more goblins before they were recalled.

Upon returning to the road to resume the formation, Reivyn noticed that the levies hadn't sustained any dead among them. The goblins had foolishly focused their attack on the armored professionals, and apparently Sergeant Mok was well versed in leading conscripts. There were some injured, but the goblins, even if they had focused on the levies, were never really much of a threat, and the thing that Reivyn could only guess was an ogre, was quickly dispatched before it was ever a factor.

There wasn't much to the after action. The officers conducted a head count, and then reformed the marching formation to continue the trek. As they resumed their march, Reivyn pulled up the notification that was blinking in the corner of his vision.

Combat Initiated.

Member of a Military Formation 2nd Squad Decker (Leader) Status: Healthy Rizler Status: Healthy Dromin Status: Healthy Tobin Status: Healthy Kyle Status: Healthy Yorbo Status: Healthy Steil Status: Healthy Cliff Status: Healthy Marik Status: Healthy Kran Status: Healthy Sile Status: Healthy Brace Status: Healthy

Enemy Defeated x611

Final Blow!

Exp +10

Final Blow!

Exp +10

Final Blow!

Exp +10

Combat Resolved

Calculating...

Minor Contribution

Exp +10

Experience: 60/100

Reivyn snorted at the results. He got as much experience for finishing off each goblin as he did for the entirety of the combat. He guessed that the minor assistance with absorbing the momentum and pushing back against the horde in the beginning of the battle was his "minor contribution."

He would need to take a more active role in combat in the future if he expected to get any amount of meaningful combat experience. It was probably squad patrols, with vastly reduced numbers of people involved, that saw the most individual gains in combat experience.

Not much opportunity for that for a while, considering we're not going to be stopping over in Magron for any length of time.

Even while stationed in the barracks, the soldiers still had to form up their squads and go patrolling in the surrounding countryside. It wouldn't be good to let a couple of these goblin tribes combine and descend on the city unannounced.

As he marched along, he suddenly got a chill down his spine as all of his hair stood on end.

What kind of combat situation could have possibly awarded me a thousand experience while I was still a baby in the womb?

The thought was disturbing.