Chapter 16: Will to Improve

I glanced at Shave. Galliard would give us the reading slate right away? Not just at the top of the month? I wasn’t going to complain—at least we wouldn’t have to wait. But I also got the sense that this was a one-time offer.

I waited until the others reviewed their main status, then took hold of the slate and checked my progress. The slate read:

Name: Levi Gordon (ID#: DD-333)

Class: Soldier

Rank: Man-at-Arms

Tier: Copper

Vitality: 1

Agility: 3

Strength: 2

Perception: 1

Focus: 2

Presence: 0

Skills: Skiing (Apprentice), Eye For Framing (Novice), Stealth (Novice), Spearmanship (Novice), Archery (Novice)

I’d accumulated a decent amount of skills, and I had a total of nine attribute points. I would need ten, and at least five in one area, to get to the Iron tier, but that didn’t matter when my Presence was still zero. I was hoping to have a point of Presence, or some recognition for my efforts.

“Don’t worry, lad,” Shave said. “You’re certainly close to Iron.” He leaned over my shoulder. “You have a partial point of Presence—I guarantee that. But the system won’t display partial points of anything. You’ll only gain a point once it’s full.”

I nodded. I was so, so close. But come on, the System didn’t have to be so stingy about increasing Presence.

“Good work, you five,” Commander Galliard said. “Sir Aldhelm has awarded me extra pay for our assistance, and I’ll distribute it out to you. This month’s wage for your squad will be amended to three silver sceats and fifteen copper. I’ll also put in a request for a replacement for Trench, but it might be a while.”

We all dipped our heads and thanked the commander, and he dismissed us. It was late, but I still cleaned up in the stream. It had been a while since I’d bathed, and I wanted to make sure I was keeping up my hygiene. Besides, with Welkinmere in the sky, it was hardly dark. The pale purple light reflecting off the gas giant was brighter than most moons.

My bathing wasn’t perfect, but with my extra pay, I decided that I’d go into town tomorrow and find some soap. I doubted I could afford the high-end soaps, but I’d do what I could.

After washing up, I returned to the camp and returned to our squad’s tent. I pushed my kit bag under my cot and dropped down. Elf was snoring, Shave rolled back and forth, and Romance was out cold.

For a moment, I didn’t question that Ticks’ bed was empty, until a few voices began whispering outside. It was a few tents over, but I thought I could hear Ticks’ voice among them. I blinked. Should I even have been able to pick out a voice like that?

But I’d gained yet another point of Focus, and though my Perception was lacking, it seemed to be the Focus that aided my mental capacity and actually let me process who was speaking, to identify the subtle differences in our voices.

I rolled off the cot, wearing just my trousers and tunic, and crept outside the tent, rolling my heels with each step. Apparently, [Stealth] was coming in handy, but I reminded myself that it was just a knowledge Skill. It didn’t actually change the world around me to make me more stealthy—it just represented knowledge that I’d accumulated in the Labyrinth.

I barely made a noise as I snuck through the camp, navigating toward the voices. There were still a few Dupes out, tending to the fires or keeping watch, and Ticks sat around a campfire with a few other Dupes who I didn’t recognize. They were all from other squads. I hid behind a stack of barrels, keeping myself out of sight.

“I’m sure you could’ve found an opportunity somewhere,” one of the Dupes said. “You got into a fight with fell-foxes. Shave wasn’t looking. You could’ve stuck the Atoning in the gut and no one would’ve been the wiser.”

“Like I said,” Ticks countered, “it was a mess, and I was too busy trying to stay alive. I didn’t have time.” He stood at the edge of the cluster, backing away, as if trying to leave.

“Remember your place,” a different Dupe said. He had a scar across one of his eyes and a tattoo of a lion’s head on his cheek, and he wore heavy plate armour on his chest. “He’s no brother of ours. Either you’re with us, or you’re with him. Get rid of him. He’s a drain on the entire battalion. It should’ve been him dead, not Trench.”

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

“I remember, Scar,” Ticks said.

“What happened to just accusing him of desertion?” a different Dupe asked. “Then, kill him right then and there?”