027. Crucible – 4
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We didn't talk much for the rest of the way. After finished bragging about his martial potential, he fell silent, mulling on my offer. And, I was lost in my thoughts, wondering whether the mention of a familiar divine name meant anything.

My conclusion, it probably did, but nothing that would actually matter in the short term. Instead, I turned my attention to his mention of the Promotion.

His offhand mention of gods and being chosen implied that they believed that it was some kind of divine process, where people needed to prove themselves to gods, and in return, they received some abilities.

And, since I didn't actually believe gods to be some mysterious altruistic beings — even as I started to realize they existed, even in a different concept than what I defined it — I immediately assumed that they were getting some kind of benefit from the process.

Probably some kind of cost for them as well, if they were as selective as the explanation of my young friend implied.

So, it made sense that a class like a farmer had to beg for an opportunity, while during my Promotion, they were offering me a lot to get my cooperation. That crimson monstrosity was the strongest — likely due to the skill of creating some kind of connection — but I remembered feeling hundreds of other beings, each whispering seductive offers.

I wondered what the significance of rejecting every single offer meant, but I didn't ask Jertann about what happened if someone rejected the blessing of the gods, though I doubted any of them actually rejected it. It was silly to assume a random farmer knew the truth.

Even questioning it explicitly was risky. Panic was much more likely, assuming that I was just a heretic.

I wanted to ask more questions about the topic, as idle chatter about the System, however inaccurate, was precious. Like how their class first awakened, what exactly was the promotion mission, names of the gods, and many other interesting details…

But I stayed focused on the more urgent issues. "So, tell me, did you come to a decision, about the situation?" I asked.

"I don't know. It feels … dishonest," he said, clearly out of his comfort zone.

"Don't worry about it," I said to him. "Think of it as finding a secret weapon to protect your group. Imagine if the Blacks actually decided to escalate the situation into violence because they wanted to be the only voice in the camp —" I started.

"They wouldn't…" he interrupted with a gasp, his voice determined. A determination that didn't last long under my sharp gaze. God, I missed my lieutenants, and them handling the new blood before they could get on my nerves with their absurd expectations. "Right?" he added a while later, though his confidence was quick to disappear.

"Are you willing to bet the lives of your friends on that conclusion?" I said to him, watching him flinch, his eyes wide as he realized what was at stake.

"No…"

"Good, then, let's talk about our situation. Let's talk about our strategy, what we will say."

"How much do you know about farmers," he finally asked.

"A bit, I didn't deal much with them. Why don't you give me a general breakdown so that I don't miss anything," I said.

He nodded before starting. "Well, there's not much to tell that's relevant. Before our first promotion mission, we only receive Vitality as a default stat, and nothing else, unless we manage natural awakenings, but it's rare for us. It's lucky few that could awaken one —"

"And a genius who can awaken two," I said, amused by his sudden blush, which looked amusing on a hulking young man, even taller than me.

"Anyway, the ones that can't awaken any additional stats can only gain the attention of the demigods. The benefits vary, but usually, it's just a fundamental skill like tending and a weak combat skill, like rake or slash. Almost impossible to get any abilities."

"Interesting, how about gods."

"That depends, gods of farming, like Demeter, usually grants at least one ability, mostly a special kind of expertise toward a certain skill, like channeling growth." I nodded at him to explain. "It's a special kind of ability that allows them to use the energy of the deceased monsters and spread around the field, increasing both the growth and the yield."

"Ah, that," I said, acting like I was aware of the ability, just didn't know the name. Though, I was more interested in the implications of the name of the Goddess. Another familiar name, this time from Greek mythology.

"For you, we need to say that you have the blessing of one of the warrior gods, though we don't have many options. Not many of them actually bless farmers. Thor is our best bet. For me, it gave the ability to Berserk rage, which is amazing along with occasional boosts to my Strengh."

"What exactly does it do?" I asked.

"It increases the effectiveness of Strength greatly as long as I burn my Health," he answered proudly.

"How greatly," I asked. "In terms of percentage? And how much Health it requires."

"The priest said the impact was about thirty percent," he said proudly. "It consumes a point every three seconds or so, but it gets faster if I try to maintain for more than a few seconds. An excellent way to deliver a killing blow."

"Yes, that's impressive," I said, even though it didn't sound particularly impressive to me, especially compared to my own ability, which granted about a fifty percent increase across all stats — as far as I could tell — with no side effect. Or maybe, considering my class, it wasn't really fair to compare us. "Maybe I should say I have the same ability. I can keep my Strength contained, and burst under emergencies. It can help others underestimate me."

"If you think that's for the best," he said. "Let's go and explain that to the rest of the group, then —" he started, only to stop as I grabbed his arm, my grip tight. "What?"

"We can't tell your group as well, not until we know there's no one working for the Blacks or the Greens," I suggested.

He gasped in shock. "They wouldn't!"

"Really," I asked. "Not a single one of them, even the slinking, sleazy ones," I said. I didn't know their group, but I could easily guess that there were several sleazy members already hanging around. That was simply the inevitable nature of any group of power to attract parasites; for gangs, or for governments.

Jertann's growl of frustration told me that, not only did I hit the nail on the head, and pointed at someone he had some kind of problem. That display of anger felt too personal to be otherwise. "Makes sense," he admitted. "I'm going to keep silent for a few days, until we can be sure that there's no problem."

"I know it doesn't feel right, but trust me. I have lived for a long time, and you can't imagine how many times I survived only because I had managed to hold an advantage secret. And, such a wide evacuation is certainly going to cause chaos."

"You don't say," he said, trying to sound sarcastic. "Look at us, abandoning everything we have worked for due to some kind of danger," he said, his tone suddenly bitter.

"I understand your frustration, but believe me, the chaos is nothing. It's just the first couple of days, and people are still trying to adapt. And, the danger is only going to get worse," I said.

The memory of dark tentacles, taking down huge birds and flying monsters was still vivid in my mind.

"Maybe," he muttered.

"Good, about the level," I said.

"Maybe we should say you are level thirty, but you didn't receive a second promotion mission. It happens a lot for the farmers. Only a rare few actually manage to get a second promotion."

"Say them that I'm level twenty-eight," I said. "In case I need to level up further in an emergency."

He shuddered. "I wouldn't recommend them. They have forbidden leveling up in the wilds due to the crowd. A few tried, but the knights just executed them. "

"We can't level up?" I asked.

"I don't know. I heard there was some kind of ward at one of the other camps, and you can rent it to level up, but they are asking for a lot of money to use."

"How much?" I asked.

"Something like twenty denicas," he said, his tone clearly indicating it to be a great treasure. I nodded, not pushing him about the topic too much. I had already asked a lot of questions, and I didn't want to hit the limit and trigger his suspicion.

"Good, let's go to the camp, then," I said, and we started walking once more, the decision made.

When we arrived at the camp, we were greeted by one of the skulking types. "Hey, look everyone, great Jertann comes from his recruiting mission, and bringing a small army with him," a middle-aged man said as he looked at us, his tone vindictive, but too loud to be actually targeted at Jertann.

The glance he threw to the camp, making sure he had people listening to him confirmed that it was the kind of show to weaken any power he might hold.

Not a bad strategy, I had to admit. I kept my mouth shut. Intervening before understanding more about the group was not a good idea. "Shut up, Gert," Jertann growled.

"Oh, scary," Gert answered. "What are you going to do, throw the corpse of your newest recruit," Gert answered as he looked at me. "Really, though. That's the best you can find, a geriatric farmer wearing garbage. Maybe we should just kick him out rather than bother to carry his corpse around."

"Shut up!" Jertann shouted, looking frustrated at the insults as he looked at me, no doubt wanting to brag how he found a warrior to join them. I shook my head subtly, and luckily, he accepted that.

"Great comeback," Gert smirked. "Are you sure you want to bring him in just because you want to avoid the shame of failure?"

"Yes," Jertann answered.

"Good, then I'm assigning him to your combat patrol, and you're leaving right now," Gert said smugly, which didn't survive for long as Jertann didn't give him the panicked response he was expecting. "Let's see how you'll beg me to change the schedule tonight," he growled before leaving.

"You see," I said with a chuckle once Gert walked away, leaving a dazed Jertann behind. "Keeping it secret is paying off already."

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