The Fusionist Book 3 -- Chapter 33

Chapter 33

Larek wasn’t sure what game Bartholomew was playing, but a subtle wink aimed at him calmed the Fusionist down a little after he heard the Noble’s words to the strangers. As the others were playing along with the explanation of their presence, something they probably should’ve talked about before this point, he did the same – but he was still worried that the Martial trainee had revealed too much.

It wasn’t until he got close to the shield-wielding stranger in his full suit of plate armor that he realized that the man was also a Noble; it was at that point that some things started to click together in his mind. The two of them were saying things that seemed just a little off to Larek, but now he could only assume that they were saying more than they meant. He was reminded of his time at Crystalview and the reasoning he was given that led to his participation in the Skirmish; while it had ultimately been so that the Dean could officially announce his abilities to everyone, the excuses he had been told was that the Nobles and their intrigue would eventually figure out that he had secrets that he wanted to hide, and he was getting preferential treatment because of that. At the time, it sounded a bit contrived, but now he couldn’t help but think there was some truth to it.

Regardless, he tried to stay calm as he walked amongst his group, which was now surrounded by the strangers as they walked over a series of hills, before coming to a road. The sight of the dirt path nearly made him miss a step as they, as a group, had been avoiding it since they left Thanchet, but now they were deliberately traveling along it. It would be impossible to hide their presence now, especially after they had saved these people, and he could only hope that they didn’t recognize him.

Fortunately, their surprise at hearing about Thanchet and what happened there seemed genuine, and other than some overly curious glances his way, the illusion on his ring seemed to be working properly. That made him feel a little bit better about the situation they found themselves in, but he was still on his guard.

As soon as they set foot on the road and were able to travel a little faster over the cleared path, he finally looked at his notifications and his Status to see what he had gained from the last fight.

Axe Handling has reached Level 83!

Dodge has reached Level 10!

Not too much in the way of Skills, but he did end up receiving 882 AF to put toward increasing his maximum Skill Levels. As far as he could tell, he obtained 9 AF per kill, and he had apparently killed 98 of the Dechonabras; he would’ve liked to kill more, but the entire group had participated in the fight so that they would be able to save the people that were on the verge of being overrun.

Of course, their sudden attack on the rear flank of the monster horde had worked better than anyone had expected, as it caused every single Dechonabra to turn toward him – and completely ignore those they were trying to kill just seconds before. Their hatred for one of his “kind” served a purpose, even if it was unintentional.

No one but Bartholomew and the Noble SIC member spoke on their way back to the town of Whittleton at first, but what they were saying just sounded like inane small talk to Larek. Feeling a gaze on him from behind, he glanced back to see one of the Mages they had rescued from the Dechonabras staring at him. She was obviously from the Kingdom based on her appearance, but she looked older than the others in her group; if he had to guess, she might be around age 30 while the others were likely in their early 20s, though he could be wrong. He wasn’t the best judge of a person’s age, but that was the impression he got – and her robe indicated that she was relatively powerful as it was one he’d only seen once or twice.

Thinking about his Specializations class, he looked at her dark blue robe and asked, “Elementalist?”

His voice seemed to startle her and she nearly fell flat on her face, but the Martial walking next to her caught the woman before she could faceplant. He began to apologize, but was interrupted before he could even open his mouth as she snatched his Healing Surge Anklet from the healer on her other side, who had been staring at the Fusion on it with apparent fascination.

“Hey! I was looking at—”

“Here!” the Mage said, holding the anklet out to him. “Thank you for letting us borrow this; it worked remarkably well.”

“AndI was studying it to see how it worked—”

“Ignore him, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Here,” she said again, practically shoving it at him.

He just shrugged and said, “Keep it.” It didn’t really matter to him if they kept it, since he already had the same Fusion on his robe. He’d only kept just in case something happened that prevented their clothing-based Fusions from working, but he could always make another on something else. It sounded like they needed it, especially if they continued to encounter hordes of monsters like they had that day.

“What? No, we couldn’t possibly afford—”

Next to him, Nedira walked backwards as she chuckled and smiled at the protesting woman. “Don’t worry, we won’t need it, and I think the one who made it would prefer it be used by those who do. What’s your name?”

“Karley.”

“Well then, Karley, treat it well and don’t sell it, because it could save your lives one day. It will technically work for you, too, but if you’re heavily injured, it will send you into a coma for a few days until your body recovers. It’s made for Martials, but I think I can see if I can find you one that will work for anyone once we get to town,” she said.

When Nedira stressed the word “find,” she tapped Larek on the shoulder. He immediately understood what she meant by that. He nodded imperceptibly as he thought about what he could use to put some Graduated Parahealing Fusions on once they got to town. He hoped they had something he could purchase, because the best he could do right now was use a rock or a stick. I suppose a gold or platinum coin would work, but I would think those would be better served as their original purpose.

Why she wanted him to make Fusions for the woman was something that it took the rest of the walk to the town for him to figure out, but he quickly discovered that Nedira was doing the same thing that Bartholomew was doing: Becoming friendly with the local SIC population so that they wouldn’t be too suspicious of their presence in the town. When Verne and Norde joined in on the conversation Norde’s sister was having not only with the Elementalist – if that was, indeed, her Specialization – but the healer and the Martial that had been injured with the broken leg, he could see the strangers becoming more comfortable around his group. Even Penelope and Vivienne were joking along with the Martial with the big warhammer slung across his shoulders, though their laughter was subdued for some reason.

Larek suddenly remembered the mention of another group of SIC members having been killed just before they arrived, and figured that was it. He thought it was actually insensitive for them to have left their bodies behind, but no one mentioned it on their entire journey.

Not that he had anyone to ask, because no one was talking with him as they moved along the road. He somewhat envied the ease at which the others seemed to be able to speak with complete strangers about seemingly nothing at all. Social interactions were something that he’d gotten better at over the last year, but he was still a little uncomfortable speaking with complete strangers. Halfway to the town, at least according to their temporary traveling companions, he realized that he didn’t feel as awkward as he usually did around people he didn’t know as he began to interject small tidbits into the conversation behind him – and for one giant reason.

Or, more accurately, not so giant reason: None of them were looking at him like he was a tall freak. The normal reserve that plagued him whenever meeting anyone new, causing him to keep his defenses up, had nearly dissolved when not a single one of them looked at him with anything other than curiosity, with not even a hint of disgust or anger – especially those from the Kingdom. Even with most of the Kingdom’s veteran SIC members he’d met, who had better than average reactions to the sight of him, there was always at least some negative reaction, even if they dismissed it soon after; but with these people, there was nothing.

It was… refreshing. Liberating, even. Sure, it was probably because he was wearing a veritable “mask” disguising his most prominent feature, but he suddenly felt freer than he had in a long, long time.

“What was that spell you used to blow up the Dechonabras?” he asked during a lull in the conversation.

“Spell? Oh, you mean my Pyroblast? It’s an expensive effect for the Mana Cost, but it was one of the only things that seemed to work against large numbers of those monsters,” the Elementalist, Karley, replied. “Though, I have to say, it didn’t look like you needed any help,” she continued, looking Larek up and down. “Does that have anything to do with the fact that there are, at least what I believe to be, incredibly powerful Fusions on your robe? My Pattern Recognition Skill is pretty high, but even I am having difficulty making out exactly what they are. Probably because I suck at creating Fusions, but I’m usually able to recognize them fairly well.”

Larek’s mind froze for a moment as he debated his response. They had already discussed keeping his ability with Fusions a secret, as it would inevitably lead anyone looking for him right to his location; his notoriety at Copperleaf and the reason his father was alerted to his presence in the first place made revealing his prowess with Fusions a bad idea. But they could still hide the fact that he was making Fusions if they were creative about it; besides, as the Elementalist had mentioned, it was going to be difficult to hide what he had already created.

He saw Nedira just about to answer for him when he hesitated, but he forged ahead and took the initiative. “Yes, they are what we’re all using to enhance our capabilities. The Fusionist who made them wanted to ensure that we would succeed in our journey and provided an abundance of Fusions for us. As Nedira mentioned earlier, there might be a few things that we can spare to make your task easier around here, but we should really get to Whittleton before looking into such things.”

There. He thought that should be a good enough explanation of why they had the Fusions, and it meshed a little bit of what Bartholomew had told the other Noble about their need to get to Whittleton.

However, the curiosity of all their new traveling companions was piqued at the mention of Fusions, as Larek hadn’t necessarily been keeping his voice low in his explanation. As a result, the Martials began pestering Penelope, Vivienne, and Bartholomew about what Fusions they possessed, while Karley and the healer were left speechless as Nedira described – in detail – the different Fusions she had on her robe and staff.

“…and apart from those powerful Boosts, we also have one that increases the resistance of the robe’s cloth.”

“Resistance to what, exactly?”

Nedira hesitated slightly before she answered. “Most things? Cutting, primarily, but it also provides nominal resistance against elemental effects such as fire and earth-based attacks. The biggest drawback is that it cannot currently prevent impact damage, so getting punched by one of those Dechonabras, for instance, can still pulverize your bones. Luckily, we have other protections like a barrier that helps to deflect some of those powerful attacks, as well as a built-in healing Fusion that is made so that anyone can use them.”

“That’s incredible! That must have taken weeks for each robe to be created,” the healer, Deivin, conjectured.

“Oh, well, something like that,” Nedira said quickly.

“But how were these young students able to cast so many spells as quickly as they did?” Karley asked.

“That’s easy! Fusions!” Verne answered enthusiastically. Now that Larek had set up a viable excuse to explain where the Fusions came from, his roommate was eager to show off. “Watch!” he continued, before rotating the staff he was using as a walking stick and aiming it at a tree they were passing. The next moment, an Icy Spike flew out from just ahead of the staff’s tip, flying quickly through the air to impale itself into the trunk of the tree.

“Wait, what? How is that possible?” the two stranger Mages asked simultaneously, incredulous at the display.

“I have no idea, but here; try it out.” Verne handed the staff to the Elementalist, before pointing to either end. “That one is essentially a Fireball, while the other is the Ice Spike-based one you just saw. All you have to do is aim the tip and mentally activate the Fusion on that end, and it will emerge. Just don’t use it more than once every 5 seconds or so, or you’ll degrade the Fusion at a faster rate.”

Karley took the staff in trembling fingers and did as instructed, and everyone had stopped their march along the road at that point to watch. The Elementalist held up the staff and attempted to aim it, but was shaking too much to be very accurate; to top it off, she had also chosen to use the Flaming Ball Fusion, so when she activated it, the ball of flames shot out at an angle, completely missing the tree and ascended into the air above its branches, before harmlessly dissipating after reaching a certain distance. The sudden eruption of a fireball out the end of the staff caused her to squeak in surprise and drop the wooden stick, where she began to apologize profusely.

“I’m so sorry, I just wasn’t expecting—”

Verne just chuckled as he quickly bent over and picked up the staff. “Don’t worry about it; it also has a strong Strengthening Fusion on it, so it won’t get damaged easily.”

“How long can you use it? When will it start to become non-functional?” the healer suddenly asked, his eyes stuck to the staff like they were glued to it. Larek got the impression that he was looking at it not as if he was planning on stealing it, but more out of curiosity and the need for knowledge, just as he had been looking at the Healing Surge Anklet earlier.

Larek answered this time. “For years, as long as it isn’t abused by too-frequent activations, as Verne warned about. The strong containment barriers and the Mana Overflow Bypass installed into their construction are enough to maintain the integrity of their formations for a long time.”

“Are you a Fusionist, as well?” Karley asked, looking at him suspiciously.

He shrugged. “I dabble a little bit here and there,” he answered non-committedly.

“I see. This is a bit overwhelming, if I’m being honest.”

It was at that point that the Noble that had been walking with Bartholomew turned to the boy and asked, a bit too snootily for Larek’s taste, “If they have such wonders, what do you possess?”

Larek was immediately angry at how quickly he and the others were dismissed, but a look at the other strangers’ faces at the question made him realize that they weren’t happy with it either. Nedira’s hand on his arm prevented him from saying something he might regret, and he immediately tightened his grip on his anger as he saw the brief flash of disgust on the young Martial trainee’s face as well. He consoled himself that Bartholomew was just playing a part right now, and that there wasn’t a good reason to get on the other Noble’s bad side. If they wanted to get in and out of Whittleton without causing a ruckus, then he would put up with the indignity for a little while.

“Not as much as I would’ve liked, but I also received all of the Boosts and protective measures as the others.  In addition, my spear is unnaturally sharp and strong, and when I do this—” he answered, flipping his weapon around so that the butt of it was pointing at the same tree Verne had hit earlier, before an icy projectile from the Fusion on it shot out at the tree trunk, “I now have a powerful ranged attack.”

To see a non-Mage essentially “casting” a spell, even if it was through a Fusion, was enough to leave the strangers speechless… for a few seconds, at least.

“I need to get me one of those,” the other Noble said a bit breathlessly. “How do I contact this Fusionist?”

“You… can’t, unfortunately,” Bartholomew said with what sounded like deep regret in his voice. “After Copperleaf was attacked by the Scission, the Fusionist was carried off to the capital, as far as I know. I don’t think I need to explain further than that.”

The Noble sighed, disappointment written all over his face. “No, you do not.”

“But cheer up! As already discussed, we may have some things that we can spare to make life easier for you here. We could really use a nice place to stay for the night and the ability to load up on some supplies, but I’m sure we can scrounge up a few Fusions for you.”

A regular bed – even if it was undersized – sounded like heaven to Larek, and he wasn’t the only one that hurried their steps as they continued their trek to Whittleton. In less time than he expected, the incognito Fusionist saw the walls of the town ahead, and relief that they had finally arrived spread throughout his entire body as he grinned at Nedira walking next to him. His smile was apparently infectious, because she returned one just as wide as his own, and he had to admit that – despite all the hardships of the last week – their travels to this point had been worth it.

But a hot meal that didn’t consist of only meat from slaughtered monsters and a safe place to sleep was even better.