Chapter 91: Planning
"Nathan."
"Yes."
"How do you have it?"
"I swapped it when we passed by the board. With Pale Rider at minimum intensity for half a second."
Liaraen sat processing that for approximately three seconds.
Then her expression shifted considerably.
From moderate calm to alarm calibrated at maximum.
"Nathan."
"Yes."
"You’re not going to do this mission."
"I am going to do it."
"Nathan."
"I am going to do it."
"Nathan. It’s an A-Rank mission. In the dungeon you almost died. Against high D-Rank creatures. Apparently A-Rank implies considerably more dangerous creatures. Apparently your Class is strong, but apparently your stats are still calibrated for F-Rank. This is very reckless."
"Sprout."
"Nathan."
"Sprout. Listen to me."
Liaraen looked at him.
With her alarm maintained.
With her right hand already on the sword’s hilt—not as a threat, but as a defensive reflex.
Nathan stopped the horse.
He turned in the saddle to face her directly.
*I’m going to explain this seriously.*
"Sprout. I’m going to tell you what I think. I’m going to be honest. And I want you to consider what I’m saying calmly."
"Alright."
"In the dungeon, I almost died. Correct."
"Correct."
"But in the dungeon, I specifically activated a full manifestation of the Class that neither of us fully understood. I eliminated all remaining creatures in approximately forty seconds. I produced a twenty-meter-diameter crater with the final explosion. Apparently that happened when I was at Level 5 with basic skills and without Death Pulse, without Minor Necromancy, without Extended Harvest, without any of the new derived skills I have now."
"Correct."
"And now I’m at Level 8. Apparently my base stats are considerably higher. Now I have three new derived skills. Kalen told me my growth is exponential. Apparently Sella confirmed I’m going to be dangerous in two years."
"Correct."
"Sprout. I honestly believe I can do this mission. Honestly. It’s not that I want to risk myself for fun. The guild system says I’m F-Rank, but the guild system doesn’t calibrate my Class correctly. Apparently my actual capability is considerably higher than what the card indicates."
"Nathan."
"Yes."
"What if you’re wrong?"
"If I’m wrong, honestly, I’ll die."
"Nathan."
"But I honestly have the feeling I’ll be fine, and I really don’t want to spend my life pretending to be weak just because others would get nervous about my power."
"A feeling?"
"A feeling. Yes. Deep down. My Class responds to me. Apparently when I need it, the Class will give me what I need. In the dungeon when I was about to die, the Class specifically activated a manifestation I don’t even understand how it works. If this A-Rank mission turns out to be specifically dangerous, apparently the Class is going to respond again."
"Nathan."
"Yes."
"That’s a really terrible argument, you know?"
"Sprout."
"Apparently you’re relying on a feeling and the hope that the Class will activate unexpected manifestations when you’re about to die."
"Well, when you put it that way..."
"Nathan."
"Yes."
"Knowing you, you’re going to do it anyway, right?"
Nathan smiled with calibrated calm.
"Correct."
Liaraen looked at him for a full moment.
Then she sighed.
With the specific sigh of a second daughter of a major elven house who had internally accepted that the person who had informal guardianship over her was considerably more stubborn than she’d anticipated.
"Acceptable," Liaraen replied. "With conditions."
"Now you’re setting conditions for me—what parallelism."
"One. I’m going with you. I’m not staying behind in Greywall."
"Alright—I wasn’t going to leave you here anyway."
"Two. If at any point during the fight I see you losing control, I’m going to intervene with the sword. With or without authorization."
"Alright."
"Three. If we survive, we’re not doing another A-Rank mission for at least the next three weeks."
"Alright."
"Four. When we return, you’re going to take me to see more places and find an appropriate sword master with your money."
"Alright."
"Five. You’re going to let me participate in the combat too. I’m not going to be a spectator."
"Sprout."
"Yes."
"You’re going to participate. With the sword. Against A-Rank creatures. That are apparently considerably more dangerous than the high D-Rank ones you faced in the dungeon."
"Correct."
"Nathan."
"Yes."
"My father left me a lineage sword that has blood recognition and apparently actively helps me hold it. The sword’s enchantment probably includes defensive capabilities that apparently neither of us has fully explored. This is the opportunity to discover them under conditions controlled by your Class."
Nathan looked at her for a moment.
With his cynical smile calibrated at maximum.
*Apparently Sprout is also looking for excuses to test the sword.*
*We’re going to be really irresponsible together.*
*Good.*
*Acceptable.*
"Alright, Sprout—I’ll protect you, and you protect me."
Nathan extended his hand toward Liaraen and smiled at her.
Liaraen looked at his hand for a second, then at his smile, and smiled back, taking his hand.
"Alright."
"Acceptable."
"Acceptable."
They both laughed.
Nathan took the reins again.
The horse began moving forward again.
And with Liaraen beside him, with the green ceremonial sword at her belt, with the smile just beginning to show beneath her calibrated posture, they both began riding toward the forest where they were specifically going to test the real capabilities of an officially F-Rank human Hunter who was apparently considerably stronger than his card indicated.
And of a second daughter of a major elven house who had apparently decided that formal fencing training could wait a few days.
---
Approximately four hours of riding later, they reached the forest’s edge.
Nathan stopped the horse. He tied the reins to a tree near the path. He stretched. He checked Soul Sense.
He detected things.
Considerable things.
Nathan took out the parchment. He calmly read the mission details.
*Mission: Infestation elimination in Karak Forest.*
*Creatures: Approximately twelve to fifteen Greater Nightbrid specimens.*
*Creature Rank: A*
*Mission Rank: A due to quantity and proximity to the trade route.*
*Payment: 800 gold coins.*
*Warning: Greater Nightbrid have resistance to direct damage magic. Close combat with enchanted weapons or specific magical bypass techniques is recommended.*
Nathan read the warning twice.
Then he looked at Liaraen.
"Sprout."
"Yes."
"The mission is against Greater Nightbrid. Apparently resistant to direct damage magic."
"Understood."
"Apparently that means Soul Reap and Soul Pulse are going to work considerably worse."
"Meaning we’re at a disadvantage."
"Apparently I need close combat or bypass techniques."
"Correct."
"Tactile Entropy probably works because it’s a bypass technique."
"Apparently yes."
"It would be good to use Minor Necromancy—it probably also works because it operates on post-mortem bodies."
"And I suppose the fact that there are A-Rank creatures means there are plenty of bones around."
"Death Pulse probably works partially because it has a paralysis effect in addition to direct damage."
"Apparently yes as well."
Nathan nodded.
"This is going to be a mission that considerably tests the derived skills."
"And I might get a chance to use the sword."
"Acceptable."
"Acceptable."
Nathan checked his System mentally.
```
Nathan Voss.
Level: 8.
HP: 2,100/2,100.
Mana: 3,200/3,200.
Status: 100% fully recovered.
ACTIVE SKILLS AVAILABLE:
Soul Sense — Maximum range.
Soul Reap — Reduced against Nightbrid.
Soul Pulse — Reduced.
Death’s Domain — Reduced.
Pale Rider — Functional.
Harvest of Souls — Untested against
Nightbrid.
The Last Bell — Untested against
Nightbrid.
DERIVED SKILLS:
Tactile Entropy — Functional (bypass).
Minor Necromancy — Functional (post-mortem).
Extended Harvest — Passive.
Death Pulse — Partial (paralysis).
```
*Good.*
*I have enough tools.*
*Let’s go.*
He turned to Liaraen.
"We’re going in. Calmly. I’ll clear the way with Soul Sense. You walk beside me with your sword ready. When we find the first group, I’ll activate Death Pulse to temporarily paralyze them. Then I’ll use Tactile Entropy on each one while you handle any that fall outside the Pulse’s range—and if they get close to you, I’ll use Minor Necromancy."
"Understood."
"Don’t lose sight of me."
"Understood as well."
"And Sprout."
"Yes."
"When your father’s sword activates, I want you to trust it. It knows what it’s doing better than you do. The enchantment is going to guide you through the first fights."
"That’s obvious—I would never doubt my father’s weapon."
Nathan took a breath.
And with a cynical smile set to *I’m going to test all the theories I’ve been developing over the last few months*:
They entered the forest.