Valkyrie's Shadow

Winter's Crown: Act 7, Chapter 18

Winter's Crown: Act 7, Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Though Ludmila was somewhat assured of her course after the discussion with Themis, the tangible progress in gaining Ilyshn’ish’s trust remained practically nonexistent over the next two days. One reason for this was because Ludmila was being cautious in her approach, opting to observe her while they focused on the more technical aspects of her education. She still wasn’t sure where the Frost Dragon’s boundaries lay: they were hardy, robust beings that didn’t seem to mind physical punishment in the same way that a Human would, yet they also possessed a sort of mental fragility due to the strange way in which their minds worked.

Also, while it seemed clear as to what Ilyshn’ish considered a negative experience, Ludmila had no solid idea of what a positive experience amounted to. Ilyshn’ish was intelligent, independent, and did not display any sort of needs or desires beyond selfish ones. Ludmila had absolutely no intention of coddling her, and felt that indulging in Ilyshn’ish’s selfishness wouldn’t be a good thing in the long run…or was that line of thinking biased by her own, Human experience? She couldn’t really tell, but she did know that the Sorcerous Kingdom had no tolerance for those who overreached their bounds.

Any real effort into developing her relationship with Ilyshn’ish would have to wait, however, as the Adventurer expedition was now ready to return to the Azerlisia Mountains to complete their task. A mere five days had passed since their return, during which they focused on retraining their fallen members, reviewed the expedition’s performance, and explored potential avenues for success based on their recent experience. Broadly speaking, the plan was little changed: several measures were proposed to minimize risks to the expedition, but everything still hinged on whether or not they were intercepted by Frost Giants again.

Lord Mare offered little as he quietly oversaw their team meetings, though all present had the sense that he was purposely withholding his participation. While it was not guaranteed that all future expeditions would present the same difficulties, dealing with these sorts of problems was something that the Adventurers on the field would have to learn. Powerful beings existed around the world, and they would inevitably run into similar troubles.

On the evening of their departure, in a crypt-like chamber on the first floor of the Adventurer Training Area, Ludmila rose from checking over several crates of supplies in her team’s alcove. Other members of the expedition were also performing last-minute checks on their inventories while they awaited departure. It had the feeling of busywork, as their preparations had been meticulous leading up to that moment, and everyone had long since assembled.

“I guess we get a Ranger this time,” a woman’s voice said from over her shoulder.

Ludmila glanced over her shoulder before turning to address Kyla. The Platinum-ranked Fighter offered an azure-eyed smile.

“I’m probably half as good as the other Rangers on the expedition,” Ludmila replied with a self-deprecating smirk, “so I hope your expectations haven’t been set beyond my capabilities.”

“I don’t think it could be any worse than before,” Kyla told her, leaning her shield on the stone wall as she placed it on the ground. “You should have seen what happened last week. After struggling through the Great Forest of Tob, I’m pretty sure everyone was screaming for Rangers to have a standard position in wilderness exploration. I didn’t even know you could get lost so many times in an hour.”

“I just feel sorry for whoever I replaced,” Ludmila frowned. “Everyone’s trained far more than I have.”

“Hmm…who were we missing again? Howe and someone else. I’m pretty sure they volunteered to sit out. Howe especially – that guy’s all about pulling his own weight, so he probably felt pretty bad trying to scout for his party without Ranger skills. After we’re done with this expedition, they say that Feoh Tay…er…”

Kyla’s voice faltered as she struggled with the name.

“Feoh Teiwaz?” Ludmila offered.

“Yeah,” Kyla pointed a gauntleted finger at her, “that one. Dwarf names are pretty clunky. Anyways, rumor has it that it’s the target for an upcoming expedition, so our Rogues will have their time to shine. It’ll be the Rangers’ turn to stay behind, then.”

“Why are they setting their sights on a Dwarf city? Training?”

“Probably. It’s supposed to be a ruin or something, and the Dwarves are short-handed as it is so they’re putting off cleaning the place up. At least that’s what I hear.”

It did make a certain sort of sense, given what Ludmila knew. Feoh Teiwaz was a complete ruin, having been destroyed in a fight between two Frost Dragons. Why two Frost Dragons had chosen an underground city to fight in was a mystery to Ludmila, but the fact was that restoring the city would not be a priority for the Dwarves in the near future, as they already had their hands full with their main projects.

The Dwarf Kingdom didn’t even have a large enough population to fully occupy their former capital, never mind all four cities of their nation. The majority of their efforts were going towards restoring Feoh Berkana, and there was no need to spread themselves thin with the Sorcerous Kingdom’s trade making up for their various shortfalls. Thus, Feoh Teiwaz made for a convenient place to train Adventurers in ruin-type environments until they had explored the place thoroughly.

“Still,” Ludmila said, “it’s their land. I hope no one gets it into their heads that they’re on some sort of treasure hunt when they’re there.”

“I bet some would,” Kyla said, “but that’s probably a part of the training so they won’t get all grabby in the future. Well, I guess most of us wouldn’t know what’s what out there in the first place. It’ll probably be like usual where we send the stuff we find back for experts to take a look at. We get to train, and they get their lost stuff returned to them…or something like that?”

“I see,” Ludmila said. “It’s too bad that you won’t need Rangers for that. The one time I went to Feoh Berkana, we went up one street and back out again. I’d really like to spend more time in a Dwarf city some day to see what they’re like.”

“You’re not usually acting as a scout, though? They can probably bring you in to fill some other role.”

Kyla had a point. Ludmila’s current role, and thus her mindset, was that of a scout due to the need for qualified Rangers in the expedition. Usually, however, she served as the party leader in a centre guard position. With more Rangers already in training, it was likely that this would be a rare instance, if not the only time, she would work as a scout in an expedition. Those who focused on the role would grow to be far superior to a front-line commander who happened to have Ranger skills.

As someone from a Ranger lineage, a part of her was a bit annoyed at the fact that she was being surpassed as a Ranger. Once, when she was a fanciful child, she entertained the idea that she would become an Adamantite Ranger just like her great-grandfather, Andrei Zahradnik. This resulted in all of the childhood adventures where she had dragged Clara along into the ‘wilderness’ of Corelyn Barony, as well as several other antics from her younger days.

“I suppose we’ll see how things turn out,” Ludmila said. “I’m already something like a backup member of the Adventurer Guild with my noble duties taking up most of my time. Those who focus fully on their work as Adventurers should really have priority over someone like me.”

“As long as you can keep up,” Kyla shrugged off her words, “I don’t think anyone would have a problem with it. Parties that you lead tend to run a lot more smoothly, too. Also…you don’t seem like you’re slowing down at all.”

“I have a lot of things keeping me busy – I feel like I’m barely putting time into the Guild these days.”

Kyla gave her a confused look over her response. The Platinum-rank Fighter looked around the chamber, where nearly all of the Adventurers present had gathered to chat idly with one another. Despite the low din of conversation that blanketed the air, she stepped into the alcove with Ludmila, speaking in a low voice.

“That’s not what I meant,” Kyla said. “A lot of the Adventurers in training are slowing down, even though they’re working just as hard as before. They get better at what they’re doing, but it’s more like they’re refining themselves with practice. Learning new spells, Skills or Martial Arts that were already within their grasp. They’re not growing in raw ability like how we did at lower ranks.”

Ludmila frowned at the odd account – she was only occasionally responsible for Adventurers ranked below Silver, and such a thing was unheard of at that stage of training.

“Is there something going on with the training sessions?” She asked.

“Training’s been the same…actually, no – Mare’s been refining the Training Area this entire time, so our sessions are actually pushing us harder compared to before. That might be the reason why it’s really become noticeable. About half of the trainees look like they’ve about reached their limit.”

Ludmila swallowed. It was something that no Adventurer wanted to hear. People had limits, and it was commonly known to risky, combat-related vocations like adventuring. It was also expressed in certain civilian circles, where artisans might feel that they had reached the personal pinnacle of their craft.

In the old Adventurer Guild, one could spend decades slowly working one’s way to Gold rank, only to discover that a cruel roadblock barred the way to further advancement. At that point, an Adventurer could only resign themselves to the fact that it was all that they would ever amount to in terms of raw potential.

A Gold Rank Adventurer still earned the equivalent to a master craftsman, so it wasn’t exactly a terrible thing, nor was it really considered a waste. However, the frustration that accompanied this realization often drove Adventurers to retire and enter into a vocation that offered a more stable and less risky lifestyle. Warrior types might find employment as armed retainers and bodyguards for noble houses, while Clerics could return to their temple ministries. There was a healthy demand for all sorts of former Adventurers, and many organizations welcomed such individuals with open arms.

Ludmila gave Kyla a tentative look.

“You’re…you’re not…”

“Me?” Kyla chuckled lightly, “I’m not quite done yet. I can sort of feel it happening, though. Ainzach’s started up consultation with members recently, to let us know what lies ahead of us. It’s not as if they know for sure, but he says that I’ll probably end up somewhere in low Mithril – kinda like some of our veterans in Rainbow. I can’t complain about it, all things considered. The pay is great and I’m way ahead of most. Not counting the expedition bonuses, two platinum a month just for staying active beats the old farm any day.”

Ludmila decided that she probably shouldn’t mention that her farming tenants earned just over 14 platinum that season. Not that it would stay that high for long.

Kyla’s topic was something that Ludmila had never really put any thought into, as Adventuring was more of a secondary duty. For full-time Adventurers, however, it was probably an ever-present worry. With how quickly one advanced under the training regimen of the Adventurer Guild, newly-registered Adventurers could potentially experience it within months.

The level of strength that Kyla approached was well-known as a wall for an Adventurer’s rise through the ranks. Surpassing it was considered something like a miracle in itself. Well, maybe not so much a miracle as exceedingly rare in the northern Human nations. Roughly twenty percent of the old Adventurer Guild was Platinum-ranked or higher, but by combining the tenets of her faith with the knowledge of classes and levels brought by the Sorcerous Kingdom, Ludmila thought that the number should actually be around fifty percent.

The crux of the matter lay within the idea of levels and dedication. In the tenets of her own faith, the gods stated that one should pursue one’s calling with a singular focus. As far as Adventurers went, only the most talented could do this in the past, while those below Silver-rank struggled to make ends meet. As a result, they looked to supplemental sources of income. In doing so, they contaminated what Lady Aura referred to as a ‘build’, picking up ‘class levels’ in whatever they did on the side to survive.

A Copper-rank Fighter might perform manual labour, such as farm work, for this purpose. It made sense on the surface, as they could apply their physical strength as a Fighter in a physically intensive job. Unfortunately, they would acquire Farmer levels by doing so. If one worked for a few years as a Farmer – or they were a Farmer in the first place – the few Farmer levels that they gained would prevent them from realizing their full potential as a Fighter. The total number of levels that one could acquire clearly differed from person to person, but the common idea that one could be ‘capped at Gold’ suggested that most people reached their limit somewhere around that point.

By the Sorcerous Kingdom’s measure, the threshold between Gold and Platinum rank was Level 15, the threshold for Third Tier casters. It was a measurement that was entirely in line with the old Adventurer Guild standard. For the same reason, this threshold was also significant for magic casters: the more levels the average individual lost to unrelated vocations, the less likely they were to become Third Tier spellcasters.

Once Ludmila had come to this realization, the whole idea of ‘deleveling’ that was mentioned back in Fassett County became a sensible course of action. If a nation had access to resurrection magic, one could fix these flaws in their ‘build’. It also edified her in her faith, as the tenets bestowed upon Humanity by the Six Great Gods were absolutely correct when it came to the principles of cultivating strength.

The Sorcerous Kingdom’s Adventurer Guild effectively followed the same principles by precluding the need for novice Adventurers to take side jobs just to survive, and employing a training regimen that facilitated rapid, focused growth.

“So you’re going to stay on with the Adventurer Guild?” Ludmila asked.

“Of course!” Kyla answered, “I don’t think they’d let anyone above Platinum leave, anyways. Even if I end up hitting a wall at Mithril, it’s not as if things will get any better if I go elsewhere. Our quality of training is second to none here, and so will the equipment we’ll eventually get our hands on. The way Ainzach frames it, a Mithril-rank Fighter from the Sorcerous Kingdom’s Adventurer Guild will probably be a pound-for-pound match for an Orichalcum-rank Fighter anywhere else.”

“I’m happy to hear that,” Ludmila said. “You’re a good person to have around.”

“Hehe…” Kyla rubbed her nose, “You’ll have to forgive me if I get jealous once in a while, though. I guess there really might be something to your religion – having an Adamantite ancestor is really paying off for you.”

“I recently discovered my mother was extraordinarily strong as well…”

“Okay, now you’re rubbing it in,” Kyla rolled her eyes. “My parents were nobodies out on the farms, so give me a break here.”

“It’s not as simple as that, anyways,” Ludmila said. “It usually takes generations to achieve any results. Still, it has to start somewhere. If you’re interested in our tenets…”

“Maybe when I start thinking about having a family,” Kayla said. “You know, Themis has been having a time with this as well. She’s sitting pretty being the strongest out of our batch – they say she might end up as an Adamantite, too.”

It was quite the difference from her cynical attitude about The Six when they went on their cockroach-infested Copper run months ago. A good sign, to be sure.

“Can they really predict where our limits are with that degree of accuracy?” Ludmila asked.

"Something to do with how fast our training gets us there, probably,” Kyla said. “Our runs are pretty standardized now, too. With how they keep track of everyone, I think it’s pretty clear when we start slowing down compared to others. When you hit the wall, you definitely notice, unless you’re completely in denial."

They looked up as the dull murmur of the waiting Adventurers quieted down. At one end of the cave, Lord Mare walked in with Lady Pestonya.

“Looks like it’s go time,” Kyla said, picking up her heater shield. “I’ll see you on the other side.”