—[«STATUS»]—
Name: Reidar Miller
Level: 51
Health: 570
Mana: 2280
C.L.A.S.P.: 20340 / 39800
Available Attribute points: 2.50
Skills: Fireball, Aqua Pistol, Stone Bullet, Wind Blade, Summon Primal Pack, Summon Guardian Shade, Summon Bone Militia, Mending Touch, Group Rally, Root Grasp, Circle of Renewal, Void Javelin, Elemental Storm, Summon Razor-Gill School, Summon Spectral Knights, Summon Rift-Sprite Contubernium, Summon Murk-Fin School, Stone Skin
Equipment: Shepherd's Crook of the Wild, Summoner's Cowl, Summoner's Mantle, Summoner's Leggings, Summoner's Handwraps, Summoner's Treads, Summoner's Bracers, Summoner's Cloak, Summoner's Sash, Aqua Sprite Pendant, Ember Sprite Ring, Stone Sprite Ring
Proficiencies: Basic Combat (99%), Velia's Regional Map (22%), Velia's Monster Compendium (27%)
Attributes: (S.H.I.E.L.D.: 5,7), (A.C.U.M.E.N.: 22,8), (F.L.A.I.R. : 5,5), (F.L.I.P.: 4,7)
Minions: #N/A
Survival Points: 199.036
Trait: Skill Sharing
Perks: Arcane Potency (6/6), Mana Attunement (5/5), Arcane Leech (5/5), Spell Control (5/5)
Perk Points: 9
Titles: The First Killer, The First Apprentice, The Pioneer, Creature Slayer IV, Rift-Sprite Hunter IV, The Exterminator, Guardian of the Innocents, Adept Learner, Abyss Caller
Profession: Tailoring (LVL 11), Woodworking (LVL 11), Enchanting (LVL 11)
—[«END»]—
At least he'd gotten something out of this mess. Powerful new skills and a pile of survival and C.L.A.S.P. points. It didn't fix everything; it couldn't, but it soothed his pride a little. He had something solid to take with him.
The rewards from the Bedrock of Havenwood and the sunken turbine quests themselves had been substantial. Just his new title, the Abyssal Caller, made it worthwhile since he could now breathe underwater, which wasn't something to scoff at. That and the new skills he got were a significant upgrade.
Summon spectral knights, in particular, was bound to be useful.
A company of ten elite warriors, each at his level. They would be a far cry from the weak, mindless skeletons of his Bone Militia, although they won't stop being useful.
They were intelligent, coordinated, and skilled. They had been enough to repel a level 83 monstrous bastard.
<That's right… They can also use magic-related skills.> Which included summoning skills.
With them, he could build a real army. A cold smile touched Reidar's lips.
The other silver lining, if it could be called that, was the knowledge itself. He now knew about the Church of Unbinding.
He knew their methods weren't just sermons and converts; they were assassination, espionage, and monster-herding on a scale he hadn't imagined.
Havenwood was just one settlement. An organization this sophisticated wouldn't stop here. Reidar was sure about this; he was sure they were going to spread. By learning about them now, in this brutal fashion, he could prepare. He would know the signs, although he doubted the church was going to be subtle.
This was no longer just someone else's war. Silas had made it personal when he had tried to kill him. It wasn't just about Lena, Torren, Lysa, and Jorik. They knew each other for a week, but they went through a lot together.
Besides, there was his nature to consider. The part of him that still remembered what it meant to be human, albeit months in this new life almost wiped it out, was still there.
Reidar had never been able to stomach cruelty, not even before the world broke. He'd always been the one to step in, to speak up, and to try to make things right, even if it cost him.
That instinct hadn't died with the old world; if anything, it had sharpened, whetted by loss and necessity.
The memory of Silas's detached, almost scholarly curiosity as he ended lives. The way his eyes had held that faint, mocking light, as if all of it were some elaborate game only he understood.
That condescension, that absolute certainty of superiority, ignited a fire in Reidar that the fear of death couldn't extinguish. He now had a personal feud with the Church of Unbinding, particularly with Silas.
It was a personal insult, a violation of every fragile code he'd clung to since the world ended. You didn't kill for sport. You didn't watch good people fall apart, despair, and call it interesting.
He pushed himself off the tree, his decision solidifying. He would leave Havenwood to its fate. He couldn't save people from themselves.
He was heading to Creamont to find his family, but he'd be watching his back the whole way. Next time he crossed paths with Silas or any of his people, it wouldn't be on their terms; it'd be on his.
The forest had been silent for the most part, save for the faint rustle of leaves overhead. However, a crack — a twig snapping behind him, to be precise — made him jump.
"Reidar!"
The man went still, his grip tightening on the Shepherd's Crook. All his summons snapped to attention in an instant. The wolves rose, baring their teeth without a sound. The skeletons turned their hollow gazes toward the noise.
It was a woman's voice, strained, breathless, but unmistakably in pain. And he recognized the owner of said voice.
He signaled his creatures to stay put. He didn't move forward, but he didn't back away either. He just stood there, waiting as clumsy footsteps got closer. A figure stumbled into the small clearing, clutching her head and breathing hard. Her face was pale and smeared with dirt.
Lena.
Her usual eerie calm was gone, replaced by panicked and fatigued movements, like an injured animal that just escaped its predator.
It was because of the wound on the head she received. Reidar saw her bleeding. She should've been dead, but…
<There was no notification!>
When Torren died, Reidar got a notification since the two were in a party, but he didn't receive one when Lena was hit, and…
He didn't get it when Jorik was attacked.
Lena's eyes were wide. The dirt and blood on her face made her haunting, unblinking stare eerie.
"Reidar," she said, gasping and then stumbling to a halt a few meters from him. Then she fell to the ground.