“Ah, right. Sorry.” Kaius replied, pushing his hair out of his face with an apologetic smile.
“Yeah—go ahead. We’ll behave.” Porkchop added, backing up before taking a seat once more.
Ianmus only rolled his eyes—though he smiled too—before his attention turned to his system notification.
He shared his findings shortly after.
It was an interesting collection of skills that he’d been offered—two of the options were metamagic, an indication that the system was aware of his attempt to twist the class in the direction of freecasting.
Burning Light was the first offer. Every light based offensive spell he used—which was all of them, thanks to his Solar affinity—would linger. Wounds would fill with the scorching power of the sun, leaving behind an affliction that would continue to burn his enemies from the inside out.
It wasn’t a glamorous, or particularly honourable one, but Kaius knew it would be potent indeed. Most metamagic scaled at least partially to the spell they were linked to. If Ianmus used one of his overcharged beams, or the light plane he had used at the end of the boggart den, the affliction that it left behind would be the stuff of nightmares.
Even he wouldn’t feel comfortable dealing with such a contagion, not until his Rapid Adaptation was far higher level at least.
The next metamagic Ianmus was offered was almost the complete opposite. Chlorophyllic Rejuvenation. When applied to a healing spell, it would cause it to also restore half that amount of stamina, and vice versa.
Simple, but effective. Apparently it was rather costly though, and Kaius was unsure of its true value. There was something to be said for an efficient economy of time—he’d be pulling double duty for a single channeled spell—but he wasn’t sure if it was worth it compared to the other options. Afterall, Ianmus could already restore both with free-casting, it just took a lot of time and effort.
Ianmus’s final option was a sorcery. Ray of Tender Recovery. A healing spell, one that was at the rarity cap of what his class could provide. It was of only middling strength—restoring only five-hundred health—but it had a miniscule mana cost and a quick channel time. An emergency response that could easily save one of their lives.
In the end, he didn’t get to share his input. Ianmus made an executive decision to pick the healing spell.
“It’s simple really—even the most devout free-caster needs at least a few sorceries to rely on when time is of the essence. With this, I will have rounded out three spells that focus on the full core of Solar magic. Physical enhancements, ray attacks, and restoration magic. I already rejected a heal last level to further cement my path, but now is a good time to pick it. After this I can fully focus on abilities that will enhance my free casting” Ianmus explained when Kaius asked how he had made his choice.
“Besides, it’s a good healing spell. With how often the two of you seemingly try to compete on who can get stabbed the most, something fast and cheap will get plenty of use—I’m sure of it.” Ianmus said, giving them a knowing smile.
Now it was Kaius’s turn to roll his eyes. They weren’t that bad. Sure, they got injured more than most—but they had the skills to handle it, and it was to be expected that they’d get a little battered when they did things like fight drakes.
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A moment later, Ianmus accepted the skill.
When he’d returned to the world of the living, he scooped his staff off the stone floor, a focused look on his face.
Solar mana flowed around him a moment later—coalescing in seconds. From the conglomeration of magical potential, a white scintillating beam shot forth to splash against Kaius’s chest. It felt…good. The magic seeped into him with the warmth of a gentle embrace, and the soft caress of a summer’s breeze.
“Huh.” he said, looking down at his chestplate—still slightly damp from the water he had used to wash off his earlier gore.
“What’d it feel like?” Porkchop asked with curiosity.
“Like getting a hug.” Kaius replied.
“That’s fairly normal for solar healing magic—it’s an affinity of dichotomies. Searing heat, and invigorating growth handed out in equal measure.” Ianmus explained.
Kaius nodded, only for the faint scent of smoke to enter his nose. His eye’s widened in a panic, head snapping to the pan where the slab of drake meat had started to scorch.
“Shit!”
He dived for the pan, the rush of fear joined by the chuckling amusement of his companions.
Savages, they had no respect for his artistry.
Turning the heat down with a flutter of mana, Kaius sighed in defeat as he flipped the steak to reveal a surface that had been seared far too black by half.
“Guess I'll have this one.” he groaned.
Resigned to his subpar starter—because of course he would cook another, he just didn’t want to waste food—Kaius settled in to watch the cooking food with closer attention.
They still had a fair few hours until Ro would arrive, so it wasn’t like he had anything better to do.
He just hoped she wouldn’t be too harsh with her teasing for the state of the drake’s carcass.
B2 Chapter 240: Beast Lore
After waking with the rising dawn, Kaius pushed his way out of the tent they had pitched right by the site of their battle and set about making breakfast. His companions were still dozing, sleep claiming them deeply after the rigours of their midnight soiree with the drake.
Fetching another cut of meat from the body of the drake, he decided to pair it with some bread and scrambled eggs. A simple meal, but one that would be relatively easy to make.
He prepared an extra serving—it was likely that Ro would arrive within an hour at most.
Kaius shook his head wrily at the thought of the woman crossing that much ground in only eight hours. The trip had taken them the better part of two weeks—that sort of speed, sustained over that long, was ridiculous.
Not for the first time, he wondered what level she was—and Rieker too, for that matter. The second tier was the bare minimum, he suspected that Silver was a requirement to hold the sort of rank that they had within the guild.
It felt too low for the kind of feats he had seen from them. Gold rank—level three-hundred—perhaps?
Regardless of their exact level, he was almost certain that they had good classes too. People who put in the sort of consistent effort required to reach that level in the low mana zone that was Central Plains almost invariably grew strong as they passed through the tiers. Before beasts had swamped the land, reaching that high in any sort of reasonable time frame required nigh constant delving, or trips far afield to where powerful monsters were able to be found.
It was still hard to believe; people in the second tier were rare. Almost unheard of, from what he’d heard from Father and the discussion he’d had with Ianmus after they had first witnessed Ro’s blinding speed. Sure, it was obvious that he’d run into far more of them in the Guild, and that his own strength meant he was all but certain to brush shoulders with people of nominally similar pedigree.
But Deadacre? It was a backwater—and not a particularly pleasant one at that, from what Ianmus had said.
Meeting not one, but two delvers of their capability was mind boggling. It was somewhat explainable in that they clearly knew each other well—too well for the mere handful of years that Rieker had been stationed in the city.
He still questioned why they were there though. There had to be a reason.
It wasn’t so much a burning need to know, but there was a curiosity there.
Maybe he was wrong, and the second tier was more common than he was led to believe—certainly, both Rieker and Ekum had implied that the third tier was not the legendary achievement he had believed it was. For all he knew, bigger cities could have second tiers by the dozen, and guildmasters solidly into the third.
On the other hand, maybe there was something about Deadacre that held the guild’s interest enough that they’d station two elites just to safeguard it.
It was by no means impossible. The city had its mysteries. The circle of blighted land that grew around it, and the rumours of its origin, for one. Even if that wasn’t the case, it could be something as mundane as politics.
The frontier was large. A poor and underpopulated region, it nonetheless was the nexus between the Hiwiann steppe, Mystral, the Dukedoms, and the elvish Domains. With only two major cities in such a region, maybe the guild simply needed some display of strength to project their will through the region.
Honestly, the more he thought about it, the more likely that was the case—though he hoped it was not so. The other two options were far more exciting secrets.