When the fight ended, everyone collapsed onto the gore-slick ground, gulping air, not caring how they looked.
More than twenty kobolds lay dead.
Gauss had stepped in at the end. The opening phase went smoothly: the villagers used numbers to crush the lookouts. But when more kobolds poured from the cave, things got fierce.
Just as one pounced a young villager and raised a stone dagger to plunge down, a line of sword-light severed its arm—and its neck. Under Gauss's guard, they cleared the small den with no casualties.
After a short rest, Gauss calmly debriefed—their shortcomings, one by one. Kobolds are weaker than goblins in a straight fight, and this little band had no strong leader; a dozen trained humans should outmatch them easily.
But "stronger" is one thing; taking them down without injuries requires coordination. And real coordination takes discipline and nerve.
Rehearsals or not, plenty still panicked when steel met flesh—took the wrong responses, let the formation sag. That's why he'd had to bail them out.
He'd watched silently: who did well, who didn't—he'd seen it all, and he didn't spare feelings now. Heads drooped among the ranks.
In team combat, one mistake hurts you and endangers your mates. A few cocky lads who thought two days with Gauss meant they could farm mobs at will sobered up; without him, some would've died here. Many things allow for mistakes; life-and-death fights don't.
Seeing them thoughtful and subdued, Gauss nodded. "Police the field and collect the spoils."
The villagers forced down their revulsion and set to work. Rhein stood by Gauss, cheeks still pale, but she didn't look away—she kept her eyes on it, steady. After a while she drew a breath and looked up.
"Teacher… do adventurers face this every day?"
"Often," Gauss said. Truthfully, he was numb to it now; fighting and dealing with monster bodies were just the job. There are other commissions, but most are combat.
"This world's never just one face. To live on this land—to protect home—you live with the things that make you flinch: danger, filth, and death."
"I understand," Rhein said. She'd seen much these days, and Gauss had guided what she saw.
"Go help Sister Alia tally materials—that's learning too." Rhein nodded hard and ran to Alia, who was directing the salvage.
Watching her go, Gauss felt a bright, patient hope—like a seed set in soil, he could already imagine her pushing through one day, growing strong.
After the kobolds, they led the villagers to a field where skeletons wandered and culled the undead. With wolf-blood on their blades and ordinary skeletons being even weaker than kobolds, the second action went fast.
One thing stood out: his second class, [Sword Soul], worked even better on skeletons. Before he got close, the white flames in their sockets snuffed out. The meager flicker animating ordinary skulls guttered in the face of a soul-strike—like a candle in a gale.
He left a share of common skeletons for practice and joined in for a few himself.
"Total Monster Kills: 5,456."
Truth be told, skeletons were among the easiest monsters he'd ever fought. He'd dropped nearly a hundred with barely any effort—like sweeping a scythe through wheat. And with Sword Soul, efficiency soared.
For normal folk, just breaking a skull off a spine isn't enough—you crush the head to expose the animus to sun and air. Professionals have more options: mana or nature-force to overwhelm them, or holy energy to disperse the negative essence directly. He now had another method.
"A pity…" he murmured. Rhein heard, curious, but didn't pry. A pity there just weren't many skeletons to meet. In his experience, they were rare, and usually in small numbers—old graveyards, a dozen at most.
Others told him the same: large skeleton outbreaks were unusual. Today's hundred-strong congregation was rare indeed.
His thoughts slid to the commission brief: once a battlefield, long ago. Maybe something about the war made the buried "take" more readily? Hard to say. It couldn't be just raw numbers—if it were, he'd have seen more by now.
Crack—crack—
The villagers didn't overthink it. They carefully smashed skulls with farm tools, then bound bones with creepers and rope—ready to haul them back.
"What are you doing?" Gauss asked, curious.
The youth he'd first called up on day one—Eric, the chief's grandson—answered plainly. "These bones are good stuff, Sir Gauss. Crush and grind them, spread on the fields—crops grow stronger. Just pull any poisonous plants. The harder arm- and rib-bones make decent tools—shuttles, bone needles—or weapons—sturdier than wood."
"You're used to dealing with skeletons," Gauss mused. Living on peculiar ground, they'd learned to make use of what it gave—so long as the undead stayed weak enough.
"Yes. We'd gather folks and clear the smallest ones now and then—but just a few at a time, to avoid injuries. Not as efficient as you," Eric added with a quick compliment.
"If you need the bones, I'll haul them," Gauss said, patting his medium storage pouch—10 cubic meters and over 3 tons capacity; plenty for a field of bones.
With his help, the bone-litter vanished quickly. "Let's sweep the area and head back if it's clear."
…
By sundown, the village lined the gate to meet them, sighing in relief at the sight of everyone whole. People noticed the change in the youths—after a day's baptism, there was a new set to their shoulders. Questions flew.
Gauss brought Rhein back to her parents. Smiling bright and pure, she dove into their arms and chattered in her little voice about all she'd seen. Gauss found himself wondering if today's trial had been too harsh for a child.
He sighed…
And yet—seeing brutality early might help one who meant to take this path. He himself had steeled his mind long before his first goblin.
"Rhein didn't trouble you, did she? Sir Gauss… Sir Gauss?" Her father's voice pulled him back.
Gauss smiled, reassuring. "Nothing—lost in thought. Trouble? Not at all. She was brave and quick today—and learned a lot."
…
Late night, in the folding house, all four studied their own skills. Gauss worked at [Fireball]. After mastering Fly, it felt a little easier; progress was clearly faster.
The model was more than halfway built; only a few critical nodes remained. Once he mapped them out, the famed Level 3 blast would be his.
He wasn't impatient—learning itself sharpened him. Just as Fly had lifted his understanding of magic and made Fireball lighter, a second Level 3 would make the next ones easier still.
Sitting on the bed, eyes closed, he shaped the intricate lattice in his mind. After a few runs, he exhaled and opened his eyes. Solve a bit each day, and even the hardest spell falls.
He stepped out to the sitting room. Alia sat with a manual. He poured water and set it by her. When she looked up, he asked, "How's it going?"
She'd picked Level 2 Enhance Attribute and Level 3 Plant Growth; she was working on the former—which was turning out trickier than expected, especially with a commission in the middle.
"About there," she said, tucking the book away. "Want to see?"
He blinked, then nodded. "Let's."
He reviewed what he knew: the Druid/Bard buff that boosts allies by aspect—six branches:
Bear — Constitution
Cat — Dexterity
Bull — Strength
Eagle — Charisma
Fox — Intelligence
Owl — Wisdom
That variety is a big part of why it's hard to learn.
Alia rubbed her hands, a bit nervous. The spell couldn't target herself or her animal companions—or she'd have tested on Ulfen.
That left one "guinea pig" in reach—Gauss: sturdy, unlikely to break. Still, she'd wanted to polish more before asking.
"I'm starting," she breathed, stepping into the open space. He nodded. An aura spread; she whispered the trigger, "Enhance Attribute." Pale gold streamed from her staff, twining like fine vines around Gauss's limbs, flowing in an arcane path before pooling at his sternum and sinking in.
He didn't resist; his spell resistance could have batted aside even a buff if he'd wanted. In fact, ally buffs were easier to "break" than enemy curses—precisely because buffs are designed to be gentle.
"Feel anything?" He probed—no bump to STR, CON, or DEX. So…
"I used Eagle's Splendor—Charisma. It's the branch I'm most comfortable with," Alia said, sneaking a glance. Under the lamp, his face did look a shade more striking. Success.
"Alright, switch to the next," she said quickly, dismissing the spell.
"I didn't even check a mirror," Gauss chuckled. Buffs didn't show on his panel—the display tracked baseline stats (or at most long-lived gear). Spells had to be felt.
"Nothing to see. Next test," Alia said, raising her staff again.
"Alright."