Fork This Life!

Chapter 18: Fork Feels Left out of the Skeleton Smackdown

(POV Gerald)

I have no clue what shovel man was saying in that whole conversation. Couldn’t read his lips for the life of me, so I just got Ferdinand’s side of things, which, judging by the amount shovel man’s mouth moved, is a woefully inadequate representation of the conversation.

Nevertheless, I can simply ask Ferdinand what’s up in a bit.

For whatever reason, we’re currently heading to the bandits’ village. The only reason I haven’t asked yet is because I’m restoring my mana to face whatever enemies I’m sure we’re going to be facing in the immediate future.

It doesn’t take long… only eight minutes. At least, that’s what I calculated it to be. If I could use this skill in combat, it’d be very useful. 2.5 times mana regen is nothing to sniff at, after all. And at higher proficiency levels, that will only increase.

Anyway…

“So, what’s happening?”

After a moment, Ferdinand replies. “We’re going to help destroy the skeletons that invaded the village where these farmers used to live in. Didn’t you follow the conversation with that lip-reading skill?”

I shrug internally, which is a much less effective means of communicating emotion than shrugging externally, but is still somehow satisfying. “Couldn’t pick a word he was saying. Did he speak the same language?”

“Yes, he was. Maybe it was the accent? He had a strong accent.” He said, shrugging physically. Likely out of habit, but I should probably help him get out of it, if only during mental conversation. It could draw some strange questions, after all.

“Probably the accent. So, skeletons? Any more detail on them?”

Thankfully, he responds in the affirmative. “From what they told me, they shouldn’t be that strong. Most of the people I talked to defeated one or two in their escape, so it’s more the numbers that are the problem.”

Ferdinand winces, putting a hand to his forehead and kneading the skin there between his fingers.

“That’s something, then. Anything on who, or what, sent them?” I ask.

Ferdinand starts to shake his head, but stops himself a moment later. “Nothing. Either they didn’t send the skeletons there personally, or none of them noticed him. Personally, I-“

Ferdinand cuts off, putting both hands to his head. His face contorts in pain, and he stops walking. A narrow trail of blood seeps from one of his nostrils, tracing around his upper lip and down his chin to drip to the ground.

“Woah man, are you alright?” I ask worriedly.

I can fix myself up in an instant, but anyone else is outside of my skillset. If his health starts turning south here, there’s nothing I’ll be able to do.

“Tele…pathy, hurts…” He groans mentally.

While one part of me idly muses that my telepathy seems to be able to convey more inflections and tone of voice than it used to, the rest of me is shutting down the telepathic connection in a panic, drowning me in silence once again.

Almost immediately, his expression starts to ease up and his nose stops bleeding. A few more seconds, and it stops as quickly as it had begun.

He waves away a few concerned villagers, stating that he is fine.

I want to find out what exactly happened, but I can hardly ask when my telepathy seemed to be the cause, can I?

For the next while he stared blankly off into the distance as he walks, a peculiar behaviour I attribute to people viewing their status.

(POV Ferdinand)

Well, I never expected this. Actually, I never expected anything at all. But if I did expect something, it definitely wouldn’t be this.

Trait developed: Psychic

Through repeated stimulation, a seldom-used portion of your mind has awoken. Stat unlock: Psi. Stat gained: Intelligence +2.

Skill gained: Telepathy (Basic)

You are now capable of communicating without a sound, without a movement, using only your thoughts. Although this skill is severely limited by distance and can only communicate emotions, this can still be a useful tool if used wisely.

After a bit of thought, I realise that this doesn’t really matter. My stats are already oriented completely towards physical combat. Starting to put points into intelligence and wisdom at this point would be… stupidity.

So unfortunately, telepathy is destined to be an unused skill from the moment I get it.

Looking at the information of the skill brings a wry smile to my face. Only a week or two ago I was complaining how my rarest skill was just low uncommon, and now here I am with a mid rare, but it’s useless to me.

The thought makes me realise that it isn’t just rarity that matters. It’s how well the skill matches your stats. There’s probably even higher ranked skills that I wouldn’t be able to use properly…

But enough of that. Gerald is probably worried about me right now.

I scratch my head and a moment later his voice pops into my head.

‘Hey, are you alright? What happened?’

I smile, and feeling the liquid still present on my face, finally remember to wipe off the blood.

‘Perfectly fine, thanks. Apparently awakening as a psychic is painful for humans.’

And for once, he is the one dumbfounded. I feel a brief twinge of amusement ripple through me, before he kills it with his next words.

‘Oh good, I thought it was something big. Hah, just kidding you, that’s cool. Not the pain, of course, that’s a bummer.’

Hmph.

‘I got the telepathy skill as well, but with my Intelligence stat, I can hardly use it. So, all in all, I suffered that pain for nothing.’ I sigh.

‘Maybe not.’ He says contemplatively. ‘Sure, it may not be useful as it is, but using it to drain your psi only takes a few seconds. And if those few seconds every now and again can train it up to advanced proficiency, then there’s uses for it even without much psi.’

‘Like what?’ I ask, curious.

‘Well, say you wanted to have a conversation with someone but don’t want other people to hear. At short distances, telepathic conversation doesn’t cost much psi at all.’ He says.

That’s true, but it’s barely worth it. I’d use it so rarely…

His voice emanates inside my head once again, but this time his voice is less jovial. ‘We’re nearly there. I’m seeing… five, ten, fifteen… twenty-three skeletons. And that number’s still going up as I see more of the village.’

‘Thanks. Do you have anything that could help against skeletons?’ I ask him.

‘Apart from absorb, I don’t think so. Telekinesis may be able to take out a few, but I doubt my magic missile will be able to do much as it is… And absorb is just too noticeable, unless I absorb their entire body.’ Gerald says apologetically.

Sighing, I steel myself for a hard battle. Possibly too hard for me to win.

But I have confidence that, like before, if I was in any real peril Gerald would ignore his fears and help me win.

‘Well, even if I can’t help directly, with me here, nobody will be able to sneak up on you.’ Says Gerald, sorry that he can’t offer more.

Smiling, I say, ‘Don’t worry so much. I’ll be fine.’

We continue walking along the path, and true to his word the village is soon in sight.

‘Final count: sixty-seven. No sign of any leader, irregular skeletons… I don’t suppose I can persuade you not to do this?’ Gerald says, sounding slightly hopeful.

‘No chance.’ I say. ‘If we don’t help them, they’re just going to slowly starve or be put in jail. I can’t let that happen if I can prevent it.’

‘Ah well. Let’s get this over with.’

We reach the outskirts of the village a minute later. It feels like the sun has dimmed a bit, but when I look up, it’s shining as brightly as ever. The village looks like it has suffered under the reign of the undead, the grass an unhealthy brown and the buildings looking like they have been abandoned for years, not just a week or two.

Bare trees dot the village, as if their very leaves have forsaken them in the presence of the undead. An unearthly silence makes it feel as if there isn’t a single thing living in the village, not even insects.

A few of the shambling skeletons turn their heads eerily towards us, a dark flame burning behind their pale eye sockets. Just looking at them gives me a feeling of disgust, of… wrongness.

The farmer with the shovel lifts it above his head and shouted, “Alright lads, we’ve made it! Adventurer boy ‘ere is gonna ‘elp us bash in some skelly skulls, so let’s take back our village! Our livelihoods!”

““YEAH!!””

The rest of them shouted, raising their own weapons.

So he is their leader? Why does he have a shovel then?

I shrug, slowly drawing my blade. The fourteen of us, plus a fork, charge into the village.

The three skeletons near us are our first targets.

Withered grass slips between the dry, waxen feet of the undead as they brandish weapons filthy with rust and neglect towards us, their unholy gazes radiating malice. Their bones click unnaturally as they move haltingly towards us, propelled by some dark magic far beyond our understanding.

Despite our currently overwhelming advantage in numbers, I see a few expressions distorting in barely repressed fear at the grim sight. I grimace.

It looks as if I’ll have to use these few as an example to keep morale up. Make it look easy.

I hope it is, for all our sakes.

Stepping towards them, I hold the handle of my sword with both hands and angle it towards them, ready to attack or defend if need be.

Thankfully, they are slow… and not very smart. Instead of coming towards me together, they are moving towards us from slightly different directions and each are different distances from me.

As a result of this, it could be said that this was three one-on-one fights rather than one three-on-one fight. What seems like a simple rearrangement of numbers on paper means a large difference in reality.

Of course, this is only true if I can defeat them quickly enough. Otherwise, I will quickly find myself facing all three as the others catch up.

Gritting my teeth, I strike towards the first of the abominations. My blade shatters through the bones of its arm, and further into its hollow ribcage.

…This might be easier than I thought.

Then I notice its rusty sword, grasped in its other hand, swinging towards me without regard for the massive injuries on its person.

Panicking slightly, I swing my weapon to intercept the skeleton’s.

Turns out I needn’t have worried so much, as it has barely more strength behind it than a child.

Or is it because my strength has increased lately?

Its weapon thrown to one side, I sweep its head from its shoulders. The dark fire in its eyes dims and disappears, leaving behind only shattered bones that fall to the ground in a pile. The next is only a step behind the first, crushing the remains of its predecessor beneath its feet as it moves towards me with a toothy grin.

Eager to test the bounds of my strength, I kick a booted foot towards its leg, snapping the thick bone in twain. The skeleton collapses to the ground, unable to keep balance on only one foot.

I almost start to get ready to fight the third skeleton when I see the skeleton below me turn its fleshless grin up towards me again and lift its sword off the ground.

It starts flailing the weapon around, almost posing more difficulty to me than before because of the low angle. Still, it isn’t difficult for me to trap its blade with mine and crush its skull beneath my boot, obliterating its ghastly smile forever.

Raising my sword to block the downwards swing of the third skeleton, I readjust my footing so as not to slip on the loose bones now beneath me before I decapitate this one as well.

I take a deep breathe to recuperate from that flurry of motion and turn around. Before me is a small crowd of gobsmacked villagers.

“See? Killing them isn’t that hard. We’ll have this place cleared by sunset.” I say, struggling to keep my breathing even and my voice stable as I say it.

Combat done, I looked at the notification windows for their death. Level 2, level 2, level 1. They were strong for their level…

The sky darkens overhead, causing my sweat-soaked clothing to cool to near frigid temperatures.

Shortly after entering the village, every skeleton in the area started swarming towards us in a white wave of undeath. We were almost overwhelmed, but we managed to escape into one of the buildings and rest there for a while. Minus one man.

Eventually, though, a wall collapsed under the unresting assault of the skeletons, and the gap was soon teeming with grinning skulls. I used up my mana there on a magic edge that cleaved through them and allowed us to make our way through.

Another one of the farmers passed away soon after, a small wound he’d taken turning rotten quicker than anything I’d seen before.

Now we are holding them off at a gap between two buildings.

I’m not sure if it’s my imagination or a result of tiring limbs, but their blows seem to be getting heavier and their movements faster as time wears on.

‘Come on, only twenty-three left!’ Gerald says during a lull in the fighting.

My heart falls at the revelation. It’s a far cry from the original sixty-seven, but it’s still far too many as we are right now. ‘Only?’ I say, too tired to say more.

Gerald’s voice comes again. ‘That was supposed to be encouraging. Be encouraged.’

I groan in reply.

Another group of skeletons moves towards us, so I roll the stiffness out of my limbs and ready my weapon again.

Just before combat starts again, Gerald’s voice comes into my head once more. ‘Somebody’s coming. Looks like they’ll be an ally, but watch out just in case.’

Great… another thing to worry about.

For the next few exhausting minutes, I see neither hide nor hair of whoever is approaching.

Then a holy light descends upon the group of skeletons, and they fall lifelessly to the ground. In that instant, it feels as if the world had gotten just the tiniest bit brighter.

After a few seconds, my eyes see what my ears were too tired to hear: a beautiful horse with a shining bay coat trotted around the corner and halts in front of us. After a second, I pull my eyes from the animal that probably cost more than the entirety of my family’s farm and focus on its rider.

He is covered entirely helmet to boots in gleaming iron armour. Its surface is inlaid with repeating designs of nature and wildlife, the meaning of which I know not. On his belt is sheathed a long blade, and the edges of a heater shield are visible behind his back.

This garb generally indicates the wearer as the knight of some noble, but coupled with the magic earlier – holy magic – it means that this person is a paladin, one favoured by a god.

“I heard rumours that this village was overcome by the undead, and I came as quickly as I could. Is everyone alright?” His voice is muffled by the visor of his helmet, but it still rings clear in the deathly silence of the village.

“Those of us here are fine, milord, but we lost a few to the undead before you arrived.” Says the leader of the villagers, oddly well-spoken in the presence of the paladin.

“I’m very sorry to hear that…” He says, “The least I can do is heal you all before I start purifying this place of death energy.”

He raises a hand, and light shines from his gauntleted hand onto us. As it hits me, I can feel the tension in my muscles bleeding away. The many scrapes and small injuries on my body stop stinging, and I can tell it’s because they have healed entirely. As the light dims, I feel as healthy and energetic as I would after a long rest and hearty meal.

“Death energy?” I ask, sheathing my sword. Normally I would have to clean it first, but against skeletons, that is hardly a problem.

His eyes flick over to me behind his visor. They are a striking green. “It pervades this place, no doubt because of the presence of so many undead. As a wielder of holy magic, which gives life, I am naturally capable of sensing its opposite.”

‘So can I. Wondered what that black mist was, but it didn’t seem to do much to you, so I didn’t say anything.’ Pipes in Gerald.

“And who are you? You don’t look like the rest of the people here.” The paladin asks.

“Just a normal adventurer, sir.” I say awkwardly, not expecting him to pay attention to me.

“Hired help?” There was an edge of distaste in his voice, and the unfair accusation makes me a bit angry.

“No milord, he helped us of his own accord. He didn’t ask for anything… unlike the people in town…” The leader of the farmers practically whispers the last part.

“I’m glad that there are people outside the temples who help others without ulterior motives.” Says the paladin happily, before flicking his reins and moving off to another part of the village.

Wiping off the sweat still present on my brow, I sit against the wall of the building beside me.

I may have been healed of fatigue, but after something like that… you really don’t want to do anything but sit down and rest, do you?

‘By the way, you were all calling her sir, and milord and whatnot, but that was an elven woman, you know?’ says Gerald.

…What?

Back in that same city where Gerald and Ferdinand first talked…

In the entrance of an alleyway to the side of one of many streets in the city, sits a man. Much of his face is obscured by grime, but from the sheer quantity and depth of his wrinkles, any casual observer could determine that the man is old. Very old.

His hair is grey, messy and sparse, plastered to his scalp with oil and yet more grime, making it look almost black in colouration. The beard gracing his chin is similar, and it drops almost to his waist. The clothing he wears is even more dishevelled than he is himself, threadbare and worn to the point where all colour - if it ever had any – has completely disappeared.

Despite being qualified to be the very definition of the word beggar, his eyes are as bright a blue as diamonds, clearer even than the crystal ball sitting on a dirty cloth before him.

Raising his head towards the busy street, he yells out hoarsely, “Prophecies! Come get your prophecies! One hundred per cent accurate, one hundred per cent free! Come get your prophecies!”

He clears his throat and looks around eagerly, but not a single person gives him so much as a glance.

The glimmer fades slowly from his eyes, and he slumps down into the dirt again. “Weeks! Weeks, since I’ve had a good prophecy to tell. And before that it was months!” He groans to himself softly.

“Met some interesting guys when I started this… remember that little girl who could have become a goddess, had she followed my advice?” He appears to be talking to his crystal ball, and at this point people are outright avoiding him rather than just passing him by.

“But noooo… She wanted to ride ponies, so her pony tripped on a ditch, throwing her off and breaking her neck. Tragedy. A real tragedy.”

The crystal ball doesn’t reply, sitting there motionless on its cloth.

He sighs deeply and raises his head to look into the distance. When he does, it almost seems as if he isn’t just contemplating, but looking at some distant location.

“Perhaps I should do something… different now. It has been a while. Or it hasn’t? But what? But what…” He whispers to himself, continuing to look beyond the horizon.

“Maybe,” He mutters, eyes slowly brightening again, “maybe I should watch a legend unfold first hand, rather than just give a gentle nudge. But who? Who… HAH!” He shouts suddenly, startling the people and causing them to actively hurry past him.

“Of course! Those two. Weirdest legend I’ve ever seen, but it. Will. Be. A. BLAST!”

He starts laughing then stops suddenly, looking at his crystal ball. “But what will I do with you? Ah well. Whoever finds you can keep you. Try not to doom us all while I’m away, you hear?”

Cackling madly to himself, he walks away into the night.

…Soon after, the city guards apprehend him.

Gerald: Forking bored!

Ferdinand: In shock!