Hyperion Evergrowing

Chapter 126: Those With Power

Leif and the Twin Heart guild leader sat alone within a large ornate office, light filtering in from a window that covered much of the right hand wall, refracting slightly as it passed through the glass and bounced around the room, illuminating its contents. A shelf with what looked like brass medals, a counter fronting some sort of bar. A couch draped with the fur of some exotic beast.

“Worried? Hardly, this will be educational if anything.” Nikolas said, taking a sip of the amber liquid within his cup, finishing the contents. Leif’s own drink sat untasted on the round wooden table, the scion yet to remove his mask.

The man leaned back, taking the monster sitting within his office in with a critical glance. Suddenly the man before him wasn’t a father, an adventurer or even a guild-leader. He was more, a presence far larger than the physical form it originated from. Nikolas didn’t so much as twitch, but the human studying him loomed over Leif, a force of nature rather than a man. He tensed, instincts built over dozens of battles for survival making the golden blood in his body run hot.

Then the guild-leader smiled, and he was just a man. “Let me begin with a question. What do you think I see?” He asked, leaning forward and lacing his fingers together atop the table.

Leif considered the question, his physiology not allowing him to sweat, nor did it create adrenalin to spike his alertness. It was a blessing, in a sense, to be in control over a body that was more statuesque than alive at times. What does he see? Leif thought, his mind trying to decide how literal the question had been.

“You see a humanoid figure in a mask and cloak.”

“I do, what else?”

“You can feel my aura, you know I have the [Noble] class because of that.”

He nodded. But Leif didn’t for a moment think that he had adequately answered the question.

“Physical appearance, auric presence, and system analysis.” Nikolas said, raising a finger for each thing he listed off. “All correct, but simplistic. I’m not disparaging your answer, but I will criticise and make corrections, elaborations. Firstly, I see a man, a traveller, someone with worn clothing covering strange white armour. I see the mask, and assume you value privacy, I see your golden eyes, and infer some sort of ocular skill.”

“I… I see.” Leif said, noticing that the man at no point indicated he saw a monster. Which is a good thing. He mentally noted, it was a little awkward to have his physical traits listed off in such a direct manner, but it was also very helpful. There was something liberating to know that his appearance didn’t call attention to his lack of humanity.

“For your aura, I can sense several things. I can tell the rank of your aura skill, it’s at rank three. But I can also feel that its strength far outstrips the rank. Which either means you have a skill that directly enhances the properties of auras, something quite rare without a dedicated class, or that you have invested heavily into [Charisma].”

Leif remained silent, that was interesting but nothing overly revealing. That changed when the guild-leader continued to speak.

“I can tell that you’re woefully under trained with aura use, that your aura’s power comes from raw strength, rather than skill. This is understandable, expected considering your situation, but it is also the first major flaw in your disguise.”

“You can… tell from my aura what I am? How? I thought my aura skill only projected information determined by the type of aura it is?” Leif asked, somewhat taken aback that what he had assumed was a fundamental rule of aura’s was incorrect.

“Auras display more than just what the skill description says. They’re like an image, a signature you show others. Emotions, intent, experience. I can sense all three within your aura, but that’s not what is giving you away. It’s as I said, the lack of finesse and technique gives you away. The average person on the street wouldn’t be able to tell, their aura skills are of a lower rank and they’ve likely never fought a monster more powerful than a slime. The raw power is indicative of a powerful monster, if I didn’t know any better I may have assumed you were of a significantly higher level.”

Leif thought back to all the times he had fought monsters. He realised what Nikolas was saying made sense. The undead enslaver queen, or the ice elementals had been the biggest standouts, having used their presences to try and crush and smother. Suppress through brute strength. And, belatedly, Leif realised he had been doing more or less the same thing. It was an almost embarrassing realisation, to have committed so many free points into [Charisma] while fumbling one of the main uses for the attribute.

“It’s something to be wary of.” Nikolas said, refilling his glass. “Monsters have far higher stats than us lowly humans, but in return their skills tend to be more simple, lacking in refinement and, in the case of aura skills, rank.”

“I understand, I think. Power with little finesse will attract attention.”

“Worse. It will attract the attention of people like myself. You get a gold ranked adventurer on your trail and you’d better hope you have some tricks up your sleeves. But I digress, the third thing, is analysis. I have a higher ranked aura than you, and a perception skill that helps me pierce stealth and obfuscation. I know you are at level fifty, I know you have four classes, I even know your highest three attributes.” He let out a sigh. “Having four classes at your level is highly uncommon. I know your situation is… different from the norm, but it's enough to raise an eyebrow.”

“I had five classes only a day ago.” Leif said

Nikolas almost spat out his drink. “Bloody hells, if you were a normal person that would imply two auxiliary classes, that’s downright unheard of for someone of your level. Some of the strongest people I’ve ever met only have a single auxiliary class.”

“How bad would that have been?” Leif asked, suddenly realising how close he had come to making a massive mistake. He hadn’t known analysis skills that could see the number of classes existed, and even if he had, he hadn't put together the potential risks of having an almost impossible number of classes.

“Bad? Ordinarily, not the worst thing in the world. But it would have almost certainly attracted the attention of those like myself, I don’t think I need to explain why that would be unfortunate for you?”

Leif let out a self deprecating sigh, though it came out more like a soft hiss. “Another thing, I didn’t even feel you analyse me, how is that possible?”

“My aura rank beats yours, your auric defences are like a slab of rock instead of a fortress, I have a skill that increases my subtlety in several key areas.”

“Oh.”

“Oh indeed. I do not envy you, Leif Vin, I certainly do not.”

Leif looked down at his still untouched drink, he removed his mask with a flex of [Wood Manipulation] and drained the whole glass in a single swig. He felt the foreign liquid flow down his throat, settling into whatever internal organ he had in place of a stomach. It tasted like the warmth of a hot, turbulence free day, almost spicy.

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“I knew I was lacking information, that's partially why I came into human territory. I wanted to head towards the Academy and learn what I could, hopefully with help from the connections I made from the expedition. But I hadn’t realised just how… blind I was. How blind I still am.”

Nikolas laughed. “I’ve had this talk, not quite the same mind you, but similar with what must be hundreds of people over the years. A lot of kids start levelling, getting stronger quickly and stumble into a situation they should probably have been able to avoid with a little more knowledge under their caps.”

“I can see that.”

“Try to analyse me.”

Leif blinked, then did so.

Combat experience: ???!

Age: ???!

“You blocked it.” He said.

“So I did, now try again.”

Combat experience: Greater!

Age: Older!

“What did you do?” Nikolas asked, eyebrows raised expectantly.

“I just… used the skill again?”

“So you did. It’s automatic, isn’t it? You use it without thought. It’s like breathing after a few uses, completely effortless unless you actually focus on the task. You need to start focusing on the skills you use, how you use them, how it feels, what are the limitations and restrictions, that sort of thing.”

Leif nodded, partially lost in thought. He hadn’t expected this conversation to have poked so many holes into his understanding. But he supposed it was better to happen in an environment like this than during a crisis.

Nikolas drained his own cup and stood. “Now, to the fun part of the lecture. Never done this with a monster before but I’m never one to turn down new experiences. Well that’s not quite true either, my wife gets all sorts of crazy ideas, and my poor soul can only take so much of a beating.”

Leif stood with him, unsure as to what the guild-leader was planning.

“Walk with me.” Nikolas said, gesturing to the door. “And put the mask back on. Not that you don’t have a pretty face, but it’s probably for the best.”

===

“I always have this conversation with my adventurers when they reach level fifty, that’s bronze rank if you weren’t aware. It’s nothing people don’t eventually figure out on their own, but I think kick-starting the change in perspective early is better than letting things naturally play out.” The guild-leader said, striding down a corridor with confident steps. Members of the guild, not adventurers, more functionaries and clerks stepping out of his way.

“Here’s a fun question.” He continued. “What is the average level?”

This genuinely stumped Leif, he had no idea. He inferred the man was talking about the average level of humans, and not the level of monsters and beasts, but that didn’t help much in narrowing it down.

“I’m not sure.” He said truthfully.

“Not surprising, very few in this line of work actually are. The answer is I don’t know, nobody has ever done a survey for a large enough sample size. Level varies by location, environment, culture and a dozen other variables. Now, a question I actually know the answer to definitely: What is the level most people have by the end of their lives? Think old age, not death by stabbing.”

Again Leif didn’t know. He thought back to the demikin clan that now lived in Far-reach. The clan elders were around level fifty, the clan chief was over that but Leif wasn’t sure by how much. Kala was under, and most of the clan’s warriors were between fifteen and thirty, with Samil, Liv and Olav being higher than most. But that was combatants, combatants who lived mostly in the wilderness, fighting monsters just to stay alive. There were more people in Ahle-ho than he had ever seen, and that was likely true if he took into his barely remembered life as a human. Most of the people in the coastal city weren’t adventurers, most weren’t even fighters at all.

Nikolas took his silence for an admission of ignorance, which it was, and answered his own question. “Most folks, farmers, dock workers, smiths, whatever, retire at level thirty. There are exceptions obviously, experience gained by those without martial or thaumatic classes is dependent on the challenge of their work, and their willingness to step outside their comfort zone. These people have classes that grant little to no power, and their attribute growths are lower.”

“That’s higher than I expected, I’m not sure why though.” Leif said, increasing his speed to keep up with the experienced adventurer as the man ascended a flight of stairs three at a time.

“It’s because most people only have one class, and they focus on it completely. You have [Labourer], [Crafter], [Guide], [Scribe] and so on. They only get so many skills, and that keeps their experience penalty low. And so from their early to late teens, to when they retire old and wrinkly they gain around thirty levels.”

“Do they not struggle with the level twenty advancement trial?” The scion asked.

“The first trial is about being sure of the decision you made in the past. Not sure what it’s like for… you know, but there’s only so much regret someone has at that point. Besides, if you’re not happy with the path you’ve walked thus far, you can always commit to another. The level twenty five trial is simple like that, you just need to pick one or the other. Surprisingly easy to fail though, especially if you have too many skills when you start it.”

“Is the level fifty advancement trial about the present then?”

“You’d think that, wouldn’t you?” Nikolas asked. “And yes, you are mostly correct. Some people are superstitious about sharing details, but I’ve never found that it hurts. It’s about the different versions of yourself you could have been. Like if you’d picked different classes, made different choices. It’s a fun one, though it can get quite grim. If you clash too much with one of your alternatives, it can end up in a fight. But you’ve distracted me.” He said, the two of them having reached a simple looking door at the end of a hallway. A pair of guards stood to either side of the door, and both saluted when they approached.

“Boss.” One of them said, hand to chest. “Good to see you in good health.”

“Am I ever not?”

“No sir.”

“Damn right.”

“Who’s this with you, boss?” Asked the other guard.

“Hmm? Oh this? It’s a walking talking tree with delusions of having lived a life as a human.” Nikolas said, completely seriously.

Both guards laughed. Then they stood aside. “You always find the strangest people, boss. Good luck tree-man. Try not to fall asleep, he hates that.” The first said.

Nikolas entered the room, Leif hot on his heels, the door clicking shut behind him. “What-”

“Pfft, funny isn’t it?” The guild-leader asked, a wry grin on his face. “Ha! I wish I could see your face, it must be priceless.”

“What if they had attacked?” Leif asked, half panicked.

“Those two? They would never harm a fly, complete pacifists.” He said, walking quickly across the room and vaulting the desk on the other side. Some paperwork went flying, but quickly flew back to their original positions without the guild-master even turning around. He began to rifle through a drawer filled with what looked like letters. “Now, about being level fifty. You need to understand how strong you are, I’m not talking about in relation to other adventurers, I’m talking about the average person. You’re stronger, faster, more durable. Your skills can kill easily if you’re not careful, and reckless ability use can lead to massive amounts of collateral damage.”

Leif slumped into a chair, it cracked under his weight, causing him to jump back onto his feet.

“The chairs in here aren’t enchanted like they were in the VIP lounge, careful. Do you understand what I mean?”

“About the chairs?”

“No, about doing serious harm.”

“Yes, I know. I’m a healer so I’ve seen the damage skills can do. I’ve seen a town burn because of a single man.”

Nikolas plucked a letter from the cabinet and spun around on his heels. “Wonderful. The disparity only gets greater from here on out. Commit this lesson to heart, mind your actions, and one day you may reach the vaunted iron rank!”

“I’m… not actually in the guild.”

“Yes, I’m aware, but it's part of the speech and I had to say it.” He said, handing Leif the letter. It was sealed with a red wax emblem of a dragon eating its own tail.

“What is this?” The scion asked, taken off guard once again by the sudden change in topic.

“A letter from our mutual friend. One Hera Kossia, sent to me in case you showed up.”

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