Jeff turned around and walked in the direction of the rear of the caravan.
He flexed his muscles once, and an oppressive energy surrounded him. His muscles wriggled underneath his tight skin like steel cables.
Veins popped all over his body like earthworms were that going crazy, gorging themselves on his flesh and blood. His skin turned red as his circulation improved. His body increased a size, and then another.
His bones cracked and for a moment the flesh sagged. Then the bones reformed themselves and grew in size, directly supporting his body as they were always meant to.
His sweat steamed, and his heart pounded. Mages were supposed to be equal to warriors, but the former was far rarer than the later. This made their methods more shrouded in mist.
It also worsened because the later were far less adept in politics in general, and so were outmaneuvered usually. This led to a situation where mages were rare, especially in the lower rungs of society.
This included the baronies. And so Jeff was not a mage. Instead he was a warrior, and proud of it.
His family Martial technique also had some breathing techniques and meditation exercises, but they were fragmented, and only an absolute talent could become a mage from them.
That was the case with the Baronies, and most Viscountcies as well. If they were better, they would have been counts instead.
Jeff was not an absolute talent. Sure he stood out, but he was fool's gold. But if he could absorb the talent of the son of the kingdom's guardian….
Jeff grinned and pushed his awakened ability to the brink.
He had awakened an affinity to the concept of Fortitude. This was one of the lesser concepts, but it was already a huge stroke of luck. One could have an affinity to fire, a specific fire, or the concept of fire.
It was more complicated that that, but Jeff neither knew or cared. All he knew was that he was strong, and when he thought about fortitude, his defense became stronger.
He could only augment one specific organ per time though. The skin however, is the biggest organ of all.
His path ability synergized well with this. As demonstrated, he possessed the ability to basically make himself into a giant.
It was temporary, and wore him out after 10 minutes of use. But that was usually enough to tear whatever opponent he had to pieces.
So what if the baron-ling had fire? He was a tank!
His strides grew larger, and Roach had to jog to keep up.
"He's straight ahead sir. You can't miss him. Last I saw, everyone was giving him his space, because no one was suicidal."
"Useless wretches! Killing him is our mission! What suicide!? Cowards, the whole lot of you! Get out of my sight Roach! Before I squash you."
One side effect of expanding himself like this was that he became less rational. The human brain was a delicate thing. While the rest of his body handled the strain, as it was a warrior's body, the brain was never a warrior's strong suit.
A cold glint flashed past the Roach's eyes as he stayed behind his boss. He said "As you wish."
And then he allowed himself to fall behind as the little giant who was twice the size of an ordinary man picked up momentum. He made a racket as he headed to wards his target.
Roach sighed. "I don't have much of a future following him." He said cynically, totally unlike the sycophant front he had shown.
On the streets where he had grown up, you learn who to flatter and when to do so. Human manipulation was easy. They just had to think they were better than you, and then you could wrap them around your finger.
"But at least I got what I really wanted." He looked at the token in his hand. It was made form a strange metal alloy, cold to the touch even in the sweltering heat of summer.
The token was the Roach's goal all along. He had completed one step of his plan. A thousand remained. He grinned.
"But first, a side quest. I need to create a power vacuum."
And what better way to kill, than to borrow a blade? He wasn't sure if the young scion was up to the task though, and so he had to find a solution to that.
He smiled. He knew just the awakened to tip in this direction.
Meanwhile, Rick grew cognizant of Jeff just as the little giant walked up to him.
"Well, well, well, what do we have here? A little birdie, just out of the nest."
"Who are you?" Rick asked warily. He had just suppressed the aspect of himself tied to most of his combat prowess. Irik had to take a back seat, because he had almost woken up.
The battlefield was a dangerous place to come to terms with a split personality.
"Why young master, allow this humble one to introduce themselves." Jeff performed a perfect noble salute smoothly.
Hand over heart, four fingers straight at first, and then forming a claw to swiftly rake over the chest, leaving four straight fingers and the arm pointing down at the end.
It looked intimidating when done by a giant man. Especially when he did it hard enough to leave faint trenches of blood on his body. To mar oneself in the salute was considered disrespectful to the Kingdom.
"I am Jeff, formerly of the Murmer family, of the Barony of Placid streams. It honors this one to be in the presences of an August one such as yourself." The man looked solemn, dignified and respectable.
An impeccable noble of impeccable manners. On his giant face though, all of it it looked grotesque and incongruous.
"Forgive my insolence, but it seems you have put all of that exquisite talent in danger. Allow me, who can protect it better, and put it to much better use, to take such a burden of your shoulder. I am worthy I assure you."
"Oh? Why don't you prove it?"
A crystal clear voice of a woman interrupted the man.
It seemed the cavalry had arrived.