Hyperion Evergrowing-Chapter 204: Recuperation

The red haired girl who was maybe fifteen or sixteen, was helping to fix a soldier’s broken ankle, and Leif knelt, lending his own power as he saw the girl begin to struggle.

“T-thanks.” She said, frowning slightly and not meeting his eye.

“Can you heal anything other than bone?” He asked, genuinely curious.

“No. Not yet, anyway.”

“I see. You should heal what you can, it's good experience.”

She nodded, then went to open her mouth. The girl paused as if unsure what words to use, then clicked her teeth together.

“What is it?” Leif asked, standing.

“Uh- umm, nothing.”

“It’s fine, don’t be afraid to ask what you want.”

She swallowed, looked around nervously, then whispered. “Sir, why don’t you have any bones?”

Leif blinked, his thoughts coming to a sudden stop. He was immediately thankful that she had asked in a way that nobody else could hear. She must have noticed when my aura was largely dispersed. He noted, quickly tallying the list of lies and excuses he had prepared well in advance for whenever someone questioned his nature.

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“Well spotted, I take it that you have a skill that lets you sense bone?”

The girl nodded, looking nervous.

“I have a skill that changes much of my physiology. It makes my skin tough like bark, blood thick like sap, and bone into a wooden substitute. That’s likely why you can’t sense anything. It has certain synergies that I won’t get into, but I’m sure you can guess some of them.” He said smoothly. “Though I would appreciate it if you didn’t go around sharing what I just told you with others.”

She twirled a lock of red hair around a finger, then spoke. “That makes sense. And I won’t, I was just curious I guess. I’m Cerri, by the way. Me and my brothers were on a team with your… um, apprentice?” Her words trailed off into a questioning tone.

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“I take it Lucia hasn’t talked much about herself?”

“N-no, not really. It’s okay though, I don’t want to pry.” Cerri said.

“She struggles with strangers for reasons that are hers to tell. Give her time, and don’t take any standoffishness personally.” Leif said, sensing the question behind the girl’s words.

“Hey, healers!” Someone called, their voice abrasive. “One of our guys has a broken arm, get over here.”

They both looked over. One of the men with a sunflower pin was glaring at them openly, and his outburst drew attention. His nose looked slightly crooked as if it had been recently knocked askew.

“That’s a shame. You should have thought about the consequences of your actions before abandoning your comrades.” Leif said flatly, turning and walking away.

The adventurer spluttered with indignance, but Leif had already turned and was moving towards where the force’s leadership was gathered. Cerri said something that made anger bloom, but he didn’t pay attention as to what.

“-Seem to have stopped shifting, at least for now.” A armoured woman on the older side of middle age was saying, the tip of her sword was planted an inch deep into a flat chunk of stone that had what looked like a map of the nearby tunnels etched onto it.

“We need to head up, but the question is, which way is up?” A rugged looking man with a bow slung over his back said, his arms crossed. “We have two [Scout]s, but they’re contradicting each other as to which direction they think the surface is.”

“Well, if it isn’t our hero.” Lady Eire said as she saw him approach. “We must thank you for your timely assistance. And I suppose for sending your daughter to help guide our forces. We are in your debt.”

“Lucia isn’t my daughter, but I’ll relay your thanks on to her nonetheless.” Leif said, studying the map. “If the dungeon knows what is best for its continued survival, it will have an exit tunnel somewhere nearby to the upper levels. It won’t want us to find its core, so I would be willing to bet that our exit is somewhere in this direction.”

The elderly swordswoman moved her blade’s tip to where it was pointing. “I’ll send one of my people to check. I only hope that we dealt with this crisis before the effects on the surface became too severe.”

“The personal forces of the nearby nobility will have mustered. Fear not.” Lady Eire said with a self satisfied smile. “My father's house guard was mobilised, of that I can assure you.”

“I’m worried about the small villages and towns. I doubt your house guard will move in their defence.”

“And why would they? The economic impact of most settlements near the mountains is limited. The soil isn’t fertile enough and most ore deposits were tapped dry centuries ago. No, my father’s forces will be guarding the merchant roadways, as they should.”

She smiled beatifically at Silas, then Leif as if she expected them to fully support her callous disregard for the lives of her most vulnerable subjects. The scion felt disgust bubbling up from the old noble, and the same emotion was practically radiating off of the elderly soldier like a heat haze. Leif tightened his aura and the noble lady flinched.

“I see house Eire is lacking in several key areas. Perhaps you should keep your comments to yourself.” He said.

“Oh, and which house do you hail from?” She snapped, quickly regaining her composure. “I can’t help but note you haven't introduced yourself in a manner befitting a nobleman.”

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“I have not, because I do not care to.” Leif said. “I let my actions speak louder than any family name. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I can sense enemies approaching.”

He spun and marched away, but a second set of footsteps followed. He could tell who it was by the way vitality passed through their body in slow loops, sense where age had taken its toll and the locations where injuries had accumulated. Silas didn’t speak, just slowly followed, his cane tapping with each step, his limp slight but noticeable in the cadence of his footfalls.

Leif didn’t stop or slow, he headed down a smaller passage and waited in the middle of the tunnel, his arms behind his back. A heartbeat after he arrived, a dozen beetles charged out of the darkness. He conjured two golden arms, the limbs bursting from his shoulders to extend towards the leading creatures. Open hands surged forward, and he drained the first two within seconds, then pulsed his aura to slow the approach of the next.

He didn’t express the full extent of his power as he turned the beasts into lifeless husks, but his silent spectator had seen much of what he could do already. There was wisdom in keeping one’s abilities secret, but in Leif’s experience the truly talented were always willing to share and learn. The final beetle died, having never gotten within striking range, and he took a moment to enjoy the sensation of cultivated lifeforce settling within his body. Without a healthy reservoir of power to tap to empower his abilities he had felt exposed and vulnerable. Well, as vulnerable as a being as durable as him could feel.

“Impressive, truly.” Silas said as Leif let his golden arms dissipate into motes of light. “I would never have expected somebody so strong to be wandering the wilderness. You are aware of how it looks?”

“With the war going on, I am. My intentions were to enter the country without causing a scene. A bit late for that, but I hadn’t expected my return to Varan to go smoothly.” He replied.

“Little chance of your presence going unnoticed now, not after what you’ve done. Not that I’m complaining, as that brat of a woman said prior, we are in your debt. I am in your debt.”

A handful of mana shards manifested over the bodies of the largest insects, and Leif collected them into his ring. He was earning a tidy sum, risking his life in the depths of the earth had its advantages, though he was reluctant to repeat the experience. Not having seen the sun for a week really was getting to him.

“Do you need something?” He finally asked, turning to face the old man.

Silas’s eyes bore into him, as if trying to drill past his rags and faux armour. To the man’s credit, he didn’t even try to use an analysis skill. “I do.” He said, rubbing his chin. “But I also have something to offer. I am Silas, formerly the patriarch of house Forde, though now I am just an old man trying to raise the next generation to be better than the current one. I may be assuming too much, but I suspect that my own situation is not so far removed from your own.”

He was wrong, but Leif wasn’t going to reveal that. Instead he inclined his head. “I have been gone for some time. This land is my home, but I haven't visited since the early years of the war. There is much I do not know about the current political landscape.”

“I won’t lie and tell you that my information network is as extensive as it once was, but if it’s knowledge you need, I can be of assistance.”

“And in return?”

The old man shrugged. “There are some weeds I intend to pluck. A last gift to my country before I’m too old to act. One final good deed, if you know what I mean.”

“I assume you’re not talking about gardening?”

Silas smiled, but it wasn’t an expression of joy, his eyes glinted with an intensity born of spite and loss.

Leif considered him, the implication, and the offer. Finally he shook his head. “I won’t commit to anything, and frankly I’m surprised that you brought this up at all. You don’t know who I am. You don’t know my house.”

“But I have witnessed your actions. Does your family name matter?”

Leif paused, mentally reassessing his impression of the old man. “We’ll talk about this later. For now, let’s focus on returning to the surface in one piece.”