by J. T. Wright
He wouldn’t be able to do that now, not after it had happened to him. His Assassin Class was gone, and what replaced it was Unyielding Slayer, a Class he'd never even heard of, but a Class that was completely suited to his usual role in combat.
Crazed eyes found Cullen. “You crusty old bastard! You did this! This is why you’ve been forcing me to the front of the fight, why you’ve been giving me all the Skill Stones, why you’ve, you’ve, you’ve…” Alistern was too furious to even form a complete thought.
Cullen faced Alistern’s accusations impassively. He wasn’t wrong. The Sergeant had forced the other man into close combat. He also hadn’t taken a single Skill Stone for himself. But that was all to make Alistern stronger. The Scout Lieutenant viewed himself as a seasoned veteran, but to Cullen’s eyes, he still needed a lot of tempering.
“What exactly is your problem, Lieutenant?” Cullen’s tone should have been warning enough that Alistern needed to calm down, but the recently christened Unyielding Slayer didn’t catch the hint.
“My problem is that your manipulation has cost me years of effort,” Alistern yelled. “I’ve lost my Assassin Class, along with its bonuses to Stealth and ranged attacks! I'm a gods’ damned Unyielding Slayer now, a Class I’ve never ever heard of! All because you like to play stupid games. You always think you know what’s best, but your head is so far up your ass that…”
Alistern was leaning forward and red in the face as he took out his frustration on the unmoving Sergeant. Cullen recognized that the Scout was unhinged, partly from the shock of his new Class, but mostly from a month of constant combat and stress. And if he was truthful, Cullen would also have to admit that part of the younger man’s stress had been caused by his playful manner of training.
Having admitted that he was partly at fault, it was up to Cullen to fix the problem. He knew immediately what the best solution would be. Alistern did not see the fist that hit him squarely in the face. A flash of pain and he found himself sitting dazed in the dirt with a complaining nose and split lips. He opened his mouth, but blood ran into it, before he could get out a word, and he clamped a hand to his face to stem the flow.
“You hit me? You scum-sucking…” Alistern’s hand went to the hilt of one of his knives, and he started to stand. He froze as Cullen’s next words reached him.
“You come to your feet with that knife, and I'll make you eat it, Lieutenant!” Cullen’s face could have been carved from stone; his tone was almost lazy. Alistern knew the Sergeant had an Intimidating Aura Skill, but he never understood why. The current set of the Sergeant’s feet and shoulders radiated a clear threat without him even activating a Skill.
Cullen waited a moment. This form of fixing sometimes took a minute to set in. The Sergeant never ever hit a Recruit with a closed fist. Light cuffs and open-handed taps were all he used to chastise those under his care. Sure, he bumped and bruised them during combat training, but he never dealt out any punishment that would cause bleeding. However, Alistern was an Officer, he hadn’t been a Recruit for years; Cullen had no qualms about striking a Lieutenant.
“You need to calm down, so you’re going to sit there and listen. No,” Cullen said as Alistern started to protest, “you stand or speak before I'm done talking, and you'll get another dose of what you need. You kids frustrate the hell out of me, you know.” Cullen’s pipe appeared in his hand, and he gestured at Alistern with it. “You, Michael, Kirstin, their siblings, and your brothers; all of you are idiots! Well-meaning, talented idiots, but idiots nonetheless.
“Take you! Assassin, Scout, caught up in reaching Level 50. You’re all so caught up in your plans and dreams, that you can’t see reality. Kirstin is the worst of the lot, but you’re damn near as bad, Assassin.” Cullen spat the word and lit his pipe. “Why? Because your father is probably the greatest Assassin in the kingdom? In ten kingdoms? Bah, you admire that old backstabber so much that you’re blindly following in his footsteps without giving your own affinities a single thought.
“Just look at you, with your rat face and viper’s tongue, you’re the spitting image of your rotten, foulmouthed, shrew of a mother. You ever think that maybe your talents lay in the same direction as hers too?”
“Mother is an Alchemist and watch how you talk about…” Alistern’s voice was muffled by his hand. Blood was still running from his nostrils. Had the damned old man broken his nose?
“Alchemist!” Cullen barked. He laughed and snorted. “That conniving woman only became an Alchemist to impress your father. She makes all his little poisons for him. But when she’s not playing the helpful housewife, she’s one of the deadliest swordswomen I’ve ever met. There’s not a stitch of subtlety in her personality or style, but she can take men twice her Level with a paring knife.
“Not that there are many men twice her Level,” Cullen muttered, “but that’s beside the point. If the Duke and Duchess weren’t available, and those two idiots running around calling themselves generals were busy, there’s no one else besides your mother that I’d rather have here facing this Trial with me. Except maybe Frank, or of course Taylor.”
Cullen trailed off as he considered his list of ideal party members. Alistern, having gotten his nose bleed under control, took the opportunity to break in. “You'd want mother here? You hate her; is she really that good?” Alistern’s curiosity took some of the edge off his anger. He knew that his parents had met when they were both Adventurers, but this was the first he’d heard that his mother was more than an Alchemist.
“Hate her? She’s a horrible, black-souled, harpy, who needs a slap more than anyone I’ve met in my life, but that doesn’t mean she’s not one of my best friends.” Cullen stared at Alistern incredulously. Where had the boy gotten the idea that Cullen hated his mother? One more example of how mixed up the next generation was.
“Awful breath, terrible personality, and disgusting face aside, there are few people I trust more or would rather have at my back than that twisted, awful, woman,” Cullen stated. “And you, Brat, are exactly like her.”
Alistern really didn’t know how to take that declaration.
“I push you to the front because that’s where you belong. You just can’t see it.” Cullen continued puffing angrily on the stem of his pipe. “You blame me that you got the Unyielding Slayer Class? From the sound of things, you didn’t choose the Class, the Class chose you. That’s the World telling you the best way for you to advance. You need to accept it. You should be happy about it. The World does not hand out substandard Classes.”
Alistern used a cast of the Self-Clean Charm to clear the blood from his face and armor as Cullen’s words sunk in. It was true Unyielding Slayer was impressive if you looked at it impartially. It gave significant bonuses to Health, Stamina, Defense, and Melee damage. If he considered the two Skills he’d received, Lightning Strike and Shadow Dodge, the Class would only get more powerful with time.
“You really think I'm more suited for…” Alistern didn’t really know what the path of this new Class entailed. He was upset because he didn’t know how to progress from here. Would his Forward Scout Class interfere or enhance Unyielding Slayer? Fortunately, Cullen was around. Pig-head as he was, Cullen was a pillar to the Al’dross and Craw children, and they all went to him for advice.
They usually hated the advice they received, but that didn’t stop them from following it, eventually, after they calmed down. That was because Cullen rarely gave advice without insults and condescension. How he had become a favorite uncle to the two families was beyond comprehension.
“Doesn’t matter what I think,” Cullen said dismissively. “The deed’s done. All that matters now is moving forward. What are your leveling requirements?”
Alistern looked at his Status and winced. “I need 10,000 XP and to kill, slay, one hundred foes with a sword or axe! An axe? I’ve never trained with an axe in my life!”
“Excellent!” Cullen grinned. He put away his pipe and gestured towards the ruined castle in the distanc
e. “We happen to have exactly what you need right at hand!”
Alistern climbed to his feet, his face pale. “You’ve got to be kidding! Half those beasts are over Level 60, we can’t…”
“Don’t get greedy on me, Lieutenant!” Cullen said sharply. “You aren’t the only one who needs to level. I'm damned close, I just need to perform an act worthy of my Class. I’ll take everything from Level 55 up.”
“That still leaves a lot of enemies for me to handle, Sergeant. If you recall, I just dropped to Level 26!” This maniac had to be joking.
“Don’t puss out on me now, Stern.” Cullen frowned as he realized Alistern actually wanted to back away from the challenge in front of them. “This is why you kids are so damn frustrating. Your Status changes a little, and you think you’re suddenly weaker. Level 50 is hard to reach, but that doesn’t mean it’s important! You still have the Skills and Attributes of a higher Level, and with an Advanced Class, you’re probably twice as dangerous as you were before. Choose a weapon, and let’s get moving. Or have you forgotten that there are others, others a lot weaker than you or me, stuck in this Trial with us?”
Alistern made a face at the Sergeant. Easy for him to say Level 50 wasn’t important; he’d reached it years ago. The Scout’s… the Slayer’s face grew somber as he considered the rest of what Cullen had said. Were the others safe? It had been over a month since they’d entered the Trial. Had Corporal Francis managed to keep his group alive?
Alistern’s resolve hardened. He would at least try. If Cullen couldn’t take out the Dread Knight, they could always run. The force positioned against them was impressive, but Alistern didn’t think it was enough to pin the Sergeant down if Cullen decided he wanted to leave.
“Fine,” he said. “We'll attempt it. But I'm leaving the second you get your head taken. And when I get back to Al’drossford, I'm going to tell everyone I can that you died crying, snot-faced, and weeping like a child. An ugly child.”
Alistern put his hand on the hilt of his sword. He frowned at the feel of it. Drawing the blade, he eyed it closely. It was a fine sword, slim, long, and fast. They’d picked up plenty of others during the journey, but he had never felt the need to switch it out. Now it felt uncomfortable in his grip.
He silently checked the blades he had in Storage, but none of them looked any better. It was a problem. His sword was perfectly serviceable but, because they were about to face odds of one hundred and fifty to one, he wanted more than serviceable.
“You have any good swords on you?” he asked Cullen.
“You said you could Level as long as you used a sword or an axe!” Cullen replied, his face lighting up. “I’ve got a spare axe that’s almost as good as Peacemaker. It’s a little underpowered for me, but it will suit you fine!”
Alistern gave a disgusted shake of his head. He would admit that Peacemaker was a great weapon, and he could feel his new Class influencing him, urging him to take the Sergeant up on his offer. But he didn’t have any axe Skills, and while he was on the verge of accepting the radical change in his life, he would stick to what he knew for now.
“No axe, huh. Unyielding Slayer sounds like a specialized Advanced Class. You got lucky there,” Cullen checked his own Storage. “How are your shield Skills?”
“Nonexistent,” Alistern said firmly. “Scout and Assassin, remember? I haven’t used a shield since you used to bat me around the training yard.”
“Hmm, well, Slayer doesn’t sound like a defensive Class anyway.” Cullen thought a minute and produced a heavy-looking longsword and matching short sword from his Storage. “Give these a try.”
Putting his old weapon away, Alistern took the offered swords, doubtfully. They were heavy and brutal looking. Drawing the longsword, which was a good six inches shorter than he preferred, Alistern saw that one side was serrated, while the other bore a straight edge. A quick check revealed that the short sword was of similar design. Paired weapons.
He Appraised them. Yep, paired. And with a damage rating that made him whistle appreciatively. These were killing tools. He would have to add all five of his recently acquired Attribute Points to meet the requirements of these swords.
He didn’t have the Dual Wield Skill or even its prerequisite Skill, Ambidextrous, but that didn’t bother him. His short blade and long blade Skills were high enough to make up for the lack, and he knew a Technique that was effective with this setup.
It was the ascetic of the weapons that caused Alistern to hesitate. Heavy, ugly, and terrifying, they were a match for the Sergeant and clashed with Alistern’s self-image. He half wanted to turn them down but wasn’t so conceited that he wouldn’t give them a chance.
He equipped the blades and then drew them with a flourish. The swords were eager to come free of their scabbards. Setting his feet and beginning a practice routine, Alistern was amazed at how the swords cut through the air. They felt perfect in his hands. Ugly, and heavy, but capable. Again, he couldn’t help but compare them to Cullen.
He activated Lightning Strike, and the air crackled as the swords, his swords, sliced through a dozen imaginary opponents at the speed of thought. Shadow Dodge, to familiarize himself with its effects, followed by the ever-faithful Chop, Slash, Thrust combination. Alistern blinked from place to place, cutting and stabbing, lost in the thrill of his newly discovered Advanced Class.
He could have practiced for hours, but all too soon was brought back to reality by Cullen’s amused comment.
“If you’re about finished playing, Lieutenant,’ Cullen coughed, “there’s work to be about.”
Alistern returned his swords to their sheaths without a hint of self-consciousness. “After you, Sergeant. I'll follow your lead. Wouldn’t want to accidentally steal any of your pretties.”
Cullen put on his helm and hefted his axe. He turned and started trotting towards the castle and its Dread Knight Guardian. He did this all without even letting on how pleased he was that the Lieutenant’s cockiness had returned. The boy was a great deal like his mother but without that woman’s sourness. His attitude he got from his father, and Cullen liked the mix.
The duo made no secret of their approach. Alistern knew Cullen could muffle the sound his heavy armor made, but the man delighted in letting his enemies know what was coming for them. Normally, Alistern, with his Scout’s sensibilities, would complain about this habit, but today he found himself wishing he had a set of noisy plate armor himself.
He must have lost his mind. All too soon, they were attacking. Alistern followed behind Cullen but was soon separated as the Sergeant plowed his way through the mass of Undead without slowing. Alistern kept to the edges himself; the Trial’s beasts only got higher leveled as you approached the center of the horde.
Crazy, he must have gone crazy. A voice in his head kept repeating that, as Alistern put his new blades to work. But crazy or not, Alistern was thrilled to discover that Cullen had been right. He would never tell the man that, but Advanced Classes were everything the Sergeant said they were.
Had he been disappointed that he hadn’t reached Level 50? What was Level 50? This feeling right here, this was power. Alistern had trained as an Assassin most of his life. He knew roughly what he could expect by leveling that Class and Unyielding Slayer was far better than his old petty dreams, and his Assassin’s Skills hadn’t disappeared. They had been adapted to his new Class. Backstab, which was previously only effective from Stealth, was now a highly efficient sword Skill that pierced kidneys and lungs, or what passed for those organs among the Undead.
Shadow Dodge was a perfect complement to Backstab as well. If he had still been an Assassin, Alistern thought that the Skill would probably allow him to slip through shadows. As an Unyielding Slayer, he became the shadow, fast and untouchable, slipping behind and between, as he struck and slaughtered.
It was a heady feeling, but Alistern kept his focus and remained on the outskirts of the horde, never allowing the Undead and Infernal beasts to surround him, and always leading a
few away to be killed before he went back for more. This wasn’t exactly the way of an Unyielding Slayer. Alistern thought the day might come when he charged into the middle of the fight, the way Cullen had. That day was still to be seen. He was new to slaying and had many very reasonable and cautious habits to overcome.
Those were habits that Cullen had discarded long ago. The Sergeant was already halfway to the Dread Knight, and no one could stop him. Peacemaker was a hurricane in his hands, the bane of the enemy and the love of Cullen’s life.
A Wraith, nine feet tall, bearing a weapon that was a cross between a sickle and sword approached Cullen, pushing through its lesser Undead cousins. Wearing a ragged grey cloak, smelling of smoke and death, the Wraith floated more than stepped. Its features were obscured, but it wailed as it came to deliver the beheading Alistern had prophesied.
Peacemaker cut it in half, plunging from the creature’s head all the way to the earth as easily as if the beast were made of paper. Cullen let go of his axe, trusting it to stand on its own, supported by the soil. With his hands free, the Sergeant reached out and grabbed the skull of a Ghoul that was lunging for him. His metal-covered fingers sunk into flesh, and bone crunched. Cullen angrily threw the beast aside and reclaimed his axe.
The area around him was clear. The Trial beasts all hung back, unwilling to come forward and face him. What the fuck was this? Trial beasts always attacked. They might falter before a Skill or stumble on an obstacle, but they never retreated!
Soon Cullen saw the reason for the horde’s behavior. A path to the castle had opened up before him. A few hundred yards away, the Dread Knight sat on his horse. Cullen’s eyes widened in delight. So, Undead daddy wanted to come and play? That was just fine with the Sergeant. The Knight’s mount reared, and then the pair charged.