“They said it’ll cost three gold coins to place the notice in next week’s paper,” Aldwin reported to Jamie. “Do you think it’s worth the price?”
In truth, Jamie wasn’t sure. Hofenstadt’s citizens were still largely illiterate, and the reach of printed materials was uncertain at best. Yet the possibility of being among the first to claim space in this new dium tempted him, as did forging a strong relationship with the paper’s owner.
“It’s hard to say,” Jamie replied. “It’s a gamble, really. But let them know it has to appear before our recruitnt.”
Aldwin nodded in acknowledgnt. “Understood. I’ll explain that.”
With a quick pivot, the boy left the small office, intent on relaying the ssage to his contact at the newspaper. By the ti he slipped out, Bertram was already stepping in, posting himself near the doorway. The room slled faintly of ink and old parchnt, a sign of endless paperwork and planning.
“Boss,” Bertram began, “Thomas sent a note saying he’s almost done. He wanted to know if you’d like to be there.”
Jamie was still juggling the aftermath of his first lessons, managing his group, and preparing for his nightly performances. All the sa, given that Thomas’s progress was linked to one of Jamie’s blessings, this seed far too good a chance to pass up.
“Yes, I’ll go,” Jamie said.
“Shall I prepare a carriage?” Bertram offered.
“No,” Jamie answered. “Keep the carriage for delivering barrels. More importantly, how’s construction of the testing arena coming along?”
“Knall explained how to set it up,” Bertram replied. “We’ll wait a few more days so no one sees it too early.”
Knall himself had been too swamped with work these past days. With the purchase of more buildings, the dwarf was busy refurbishing them while also helping expand their brewing operations.
“Excellent,” Jamie said, rising from his chair and stretching the tall stiffness from his spine. “Then let’s go.” He glanced over at Jay, who lounged near the desk, similarly rousing himself.
--
Jamie had grown used to the path beyond Hafenstadt’s walls. After spending so much ti on their morning training, he had learned to recognize every stone used in the walls and which guards tended to co and go to watch the sessions. Yet the nearby village remained an enigma.
He traveled there only during daylight, and beyond a few won tending their hos, Jamie knew very little about the rest of the villagers. Presumably, they worked within the city, though precisely where was hard to tell.
Continuing along the dirt road, Jamie passed in front of Thomas’s modest house. By the window stood nine-year-old Julie, her long brown hair hanging about her face as she gazed at passersby with weary boredom. She was too young for the Academy, too young to study or hold a job, and in her small, tight-knit world, even a visitor marching down the road brought a flicker of excitent.
“Where is he?” Jamie asked the girl.
“In the clearing out front,” Julie responded, brightening at the sight of the bard.
“When I co back, I promise to play you a song,” he said lightly.
“Great!” she exclaid.
Jamie took a mont to survey the village. He wondered fleetingly where the other children were, for in his eyes, the village seed oddly quiet.
“They’re probably off in the city too,” Jay suggested. “Maybe selling newspapers or picking pockets.”
Jamie nodded.
“Families out here often needed every mber, no matter their age, to earn extra coin. Thomas is quite the exception, employed at the Golden Fiddle.” Jay comnted while floating.
“How the hell did you figure that out?” Jamie asked curious.
“Hey! I watch things around.” The cat spoke as if his feelings were hurt.
Both continued following the dusty road to the open ground they used for training. Jamie found Thomas sprawled upon the earth, sweat drenching his shirt, his face etched with the deep strain of exhaustion. Calluses and minor cuts lined his hands from training too much with his sword.
Wordlessly, Jamie settled beside Thomas, giving him a mont to catch his breath. “How many left?” he asked eventually.
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“J-just ten more,” Thomas managed, eyes distant as if reading his status page.
Thomas rose slowly, dragging his sword at his side until he reached the center of the clearing. Kneeling down, he retrieved a small pouch he had left nearby. From it he produced a glass vial, unscrewing the lid and allowing the bluish liquid within to trickle down his throat.
“That was the last one, but it should be enough,” he murmured, glancing at Jamie, who observed him from a short distance.
Steadying the worn hilt of his weapon, Thomas fixed his gaze on an imaginary target straight ahead.
[Reap]
With a swift vertical slice, he brought the blade down, and a surge of sapphire light rippled outward from the sword’s tip. The shimring energy expanded a few ters before dissolving into the air.
[Reap]
He repeated the motion again, echoing the first. Once. Twice. Bit by bit, Thomas carried out the last few attempts needed to complete his task. Out of the corner of his eye, Jamie monitored Thomas’s progress.
[Beco a Harvest Guardian]
Objective: Use [Reap] 1,000 tis within 240 hours.
[Reap]: 994/1000
Remaining ti: 18:51:55
Failure to complete the quest within the allotted ti will result in the loss of experience, and the ritual must be perford anew.
Though there was enough ti remained, Jamie couldn’t help his lingering anxiety. It wasn’t that he doubted Thomas’s ability to finish. Instead, he wondered what sort of transformation the guard would undergo if he succeeded.
One strike, then another.
Five more tis Thomas called upon [Reap], until he stood poised, needing just one last attempt.
“Co on!” Jay urged. “You can do it.”
[REAP!]
Thomas lifted his sword high, then brought it down with all his remaining strength. A trendous wave of energy burst forward, slicing the air and grazing the ground as it spread, halting just shy of the treeline. The impact left Thomas reeling. A heartbeat later, he dropped to his knees, chest heaving, sweat glistening on his brow as he struggled to catch his breath.
[Beco a Harvest Guardian]
[Completed]
In that instant, the word “Completed” blazed across Jamie’s vision. The clearing around him vanished into total darkness, as though soone had drawn a curtain of night across his eyes. Though he could still move his head, he no longer felt the soft earth beneath him or heard the whisper of wind in the trees.
When the darkness receded, he found himself back in the warm, candlelit chamber of the Crescendo. A silent, in-between place that existed just for them. The air held a faint shimr, and a round table stood in the center of the room. The world seed hushed, as if they had both slipped into another realm entirely.
Thomas, still breathing hard even here, watched Jamie carefully. Sweat glistened on the guard’s brow, his posture drooping from the intense effort of his last attack. Yet, in this mont, Jamie understood it was not his turn to act. Thomas was the focus now.
From sowhere deep within Thomas’s chest, a bright gold light began to radiate, flooding every surface with a soft, shimring glow. As it dimd, Jamie saw a card erging from Thomas’s very flesh like a ghost stepping through a wall. It floated free a mont, then drifted down to rest on the table’s polished surface with surprising gentleness.
Jamie’s gaze fell upon the illustration on the card. It was the image of the [Farr]. Without hesitation, he reached for one of the other cards scattered across the table. Carefully, he pressed it against Thomas’s chest, guiding it inward as though pushing the card straight into Thomas’s body.
In a rush, the chamber went dark again. When vision finally returned, Jamie found himself on his knees back in the clearing, the bright sun, the tall grass, and the echo of Thomas’s breathing reacquainting him with reality.
A wave of fatigue swept over him, leaving him feeling hollowed out, as though his mana had been completely drained.
‘This… consus way too much mana,’ he thought, trying to steady himself.
Lifting his head, he focused on Thomas, who was still swaying on his feet but no longer worn down by exhaustion. Relief flooded Jamie to see that his friend appeared more vigorous, a triumphant spark lit in his eyes.
“Did it work?” Jamie asked, his voice echoing with hope.
Thomas’s response ca with a bright, triumphant grin. “Yes! [Harvest Guardian]. Level 3!”
[You obtained 20 Trust from Thomas]
--
| 2# mber: Thomas Hartfield
| Trust: [80/100]
| Class: Harvest Guardian [Rare]
| Level: 3
| Experience: [3138/9000]
--
“A-any changes?” Jamie asked, rising carefully to his feet.
“It’s strange. I can feel that I’m stronger, even though my status doesn’t look any different,” Thomas said, studying his hands as he opened and closed them experintally.
“Strange indeed,” Jamie echoed.
“Besides that,” Thomas added, “it now takes the sa amount of experience for to level up as soone with a [Rare] class.”
Jamie fell silent, pondering. ‘Would it have been better to evolve him further, or not at all? Which approach would have been more optimal?’ he wondered.
“Ah! I did get a new ability,” Thomas went on. “[Plow].” With a casual swing of his sword, he sought to observe what the skill would do.
A mont later, the ground in the direction he slashed began to quake, ripping open in intervals of about a ter. Clouds of dirt erupted, and stones catapulted aside. The chain of explosions barreled through the clearing, not stopping until it tore into the forest edge, uprooting several trees before finally subsiding.
The clearing, once quiet and unassuming, now displayed a ragged scar of overturned earth. Sunlight glinted off stray debris, and the toppled trees fanned out in a jagged line. Thomas stared at the aftermath with wide eyes and a flicker of awe. Jamie glanced between his exhausted comrade and the deep gouge carved into the land.
“Maybe you should study that skill a bit before using it again,” Jamie managed, forcing down a ripple of startled laughter.
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