“By the Six!” Robiery groaned, as the monsters started turning towards them.

  And even as he stared around at the beasts, Larkin found his Fighter instincts again trying to take over.

  Piss off! He thought viciously, even as he let the knowledge from the Class guide his actions.

  They were between two cottages, from which three of the monsters had risen up from. Another one was rising from a cottage further into the village, and a final two came from one of the cottages they’d passed earlier.

  It was clearly a trap, which suggested an unfortunate level of intelligence.

  For now, Larkin grabbed Robiery by the shoulder and showed him back towards the cottage he’d come from.

  “Get inside.” He snapped. “Take shelter.”

  Larkin didn’t know how much of an obstacle the thatched roof would be for the flying monsters, but it was better than having the villager stand out in the open.

  Even as Robiery began stumbling towards his house though, the monsters were descending. Larkin focused on the one closest to Robiery, whilst trying to keep track of the others.

  In the limited light it was hard to see what sort of face or expression the monsters had, if any. But the group seemed to hesitate collectively for a few seconds, as though puzzled as to why Larkin wasn’t fleeing.

  That allowed the villager to stumble to the entrance to the cottage before the monsters moved. But when they did, they moved fast.

  The closest monster to Robiery went from hovering three paces above the level of the roof to within striking range of the villager in an instant.

  Fortunately, Larkin had anticipated this and was already moving. His Fighter Class body surged forward, aiming to intercept the descending monster with his blade. But, in a horrible display of agility, the beast swerved aside at the last second, turning an attack that would have bisected it into a long but shallow slice against its carapace.

  “Damn.” Larkin muttered, even as Robiery managed to shut the door.

  He tried to keep the injured monster in sight as the others now started buzzing around him.

  The constant din from those wings made it impossible to use the sound to follow their movements, so he needed to keep turning in an attempt to track them all. It was a vain effort anyway, as Larkin found out when the injured one shot towards him.

  He twisted to one side and his sword slashed outward where the monster would have been if it didn’t veer off at the last moment. But Larkin’s movement left him exposed to another of the monsters which popped up behind him with its stinger already beginning to shoot out towards his head.

  Until the monster suddenly stopped, its wings even stuttering for a moment so that it lost height. It recovered blisteringly fast, but didn’t have enough time to regain height before Larkin’s sword swung in a tight arc and ripped through its body.

  A thin green liquid splattered across his face as the blade caught on something and only came out with a violent yank. Larkin grinned viciously up at the other monsters hovering about him.

  They didn’t show any response to one of their number being killed though. Or at least not as far as Larkin couldn’t tell.

  There wasn’t even a pause before the next attack.

  In the next few heartbeats Larkin took a stinger into the meaty part of his upper leg, and another that glanced off his shoulders. He would also have taken another wound to his face and the back of his neck but for his stranger powers.

  Both of the latter times the monsters would suddenly just pause right before they delivered their blows. And, since they were flying, this had an even greater effect than just protecting Larkin. He had no difficulty in responding to their attacks - which should have left him incapacitated - with lethal force.

  Despite his growing wounds he felt unencumbered, and was able to take advantage of the fewer numbers of attackers. A quick surge forward allowed him to cut down two more of the monsters before they could whisk themselves away.

  Leaving just the one flying monster left; the original one that had the long shallow cut across its abdomen.

  For the first time in the fight, the monster seemed to actually be concerned about the fact that Larkin had butchered its companions. It now buzzed ten feet in the air, hovering out of reach as it seemed to regard him.

  Larkin likewise now contemplated how he would actually reach it.

  The damn thing is fast, he thought. Maybe I should be less defensively minded?

  His Fighter Class instinct was telling him that he should dodge the monster’s next attack and then counter while the monster was flying past. But Larkin found himself worrying that would mean that his attack would miss the fast beast again.

  Maybe, if he just anticipated the attack it would make, he could get the thing?

  Just as he thought that the monster darted towards him. And pushing his Class instinct to one side, Larkin rushed towards the creature in response.

  He felt the tip of his blade catch onto something and then his Fighter-instincts were shouting at him so strongly that he jerked his upper body to one side, twisting his right shoulder back. That was accompanied by something cutting through the right side of his neck just as he found his sword wrenched from his hands by a heavy weight.

  Larkin hissed in pain, his hand clutching the side of his neck, even as he spun around.

  A wave of panic went through him as he realised that he was now disarmed.

  But there came the thump of the monster as it crashed to the ground, entirely impaled by the sword. Larkin winced at the growing burning sensation in his neck - that couldn’t be normal! Biting down on his growl of pain he watched the monster twitch violently once, and then go still.

  And then a blue notification pane blocked his vision.

  YOU HAVE ACQUIRED A LEVEL IN FIGHTER. STRENGTH AND ENDURANCE HAVE INCREASED.

  Larkin quickly blinked away the message and looked around. But the village had gone quiet again, and there was no further movement. Apparently the System was sensible enough not to block his sight during a fight.

  Looking at the notification again he noticed the lack of any increase in Speed.

  Maybe that only happens at every other level? He thought for a moment, then with a mental shrug dismissed the message.

  And the reason why he was able to be so detached was because the pain in his neck had almost completely faded as soon as he had gained his level.

  Gingerly he lifted his left hand from his neck. When he gingerly prodded about on the skin he found it unbroken, if a little sore. There was likewise no pain from his shoulder, and his left arm was now unpunctured.

  If, however, there had been another of the monsters flying around, then he’d be seriously injured and be without a weapon.

  So best not to completely ignore those freaky instincts. He thought. There’s a difference between not letting it control me and me acting like an idiot.

  Duly noted.

  A sudden sound had him look up but it was only Robiery peeked out of his cottage.

  “Are you okay?” He called out. “And are those monsters gone?”

  Larkin glanced around again before approaching the monster that was currently holding his sword.

  “They’re dead.” He confirmed as he knelt down and tried to extract the weapon. “Those monsters have clearly reached the village. And the people have either fled, or…”

  Larkin realised what he was saying and cut himself off, but the words hung heavily in the air as Robiery approached.

  The villager didn’t say anything and, feeling awkward, Larkin didn’t dare look at his face. So Robiery just waited as Larkin eventually got his sword free, the blade now thoroughly drenched in unpleasant fluids.

  “Should we stay here tonight?” Larkin finally came up with, turning to the man. “I don’t like the idea of walking around at night.”

  Robiery hesitated a moment before giving a reluctant nod.

  “Red Oak is still a couple of hours from here.” He said. “I’ll…

  He cut off as Larkin raised his sword and spun around towards the sound he’d just heard. Only to pause as he saw a haggard man standing by the side of one of the cottages.

  “Robiery?” The figure called in a weak voice.

  With an intake of breath, the villager rushed from Larkin’s side towards the man.

  “Arnault!” He exclaimed. “What happened? Where is everyone?”

  The other villager started to shake, some great emotion moving him even as his voice remained eerily steady.

  “They’re all gone.” He whispered. “They were taken by the monsters. Everyone.”

  It took a while for the increasingly impatient Robiery to get the full story out. But standing silently nearby, Larkin listened as events were pieced together. How an ominous buzzing filled the air, leading to alarmed villagers looking to the west, in time to see hundreds of the monsters pouring out of the sky to descend on them.

  And the monsters weren’t just the sort that Larkin had killed, Arnault described much bigger ones with webbed nets that had scooped up the villagers as they attempted to flee. But not just them: the monsters had taken dogs and other animals around the village.

  And then the majority of the monsters had flown back west.

  All of this had been seen by Arnault who had, through complete chance, been standing in a dense copse of trees a little away from the village. He’d been looking for some flowers for his young wife, only to see her get carried away while he helplessly watched.

  And then, he had witnessed a few of the monsters descend onto the roofs of the village, and hadn’t dared try and leave his hiding place.

  “It’s alright, Arnault.” Robiery muttered. “We’ll get them back.”

  The villager was clearly trying to be reassuring. But whether he was convincing the other man or himself was unclear. The numbers of the monsters had clearly terrified him.

  As it had Larkin.

  I had trouble with six of them. How the hell do I kill hundreds?

  The answer, he reluctantly conceded, was that he couldn’t.

  “We need to go back.” He told the two men. “Now, before any more of those monsters decide to come back here.”

  - - -

  The return journey was hard going. The trail was rocky and made worse by a persistent rain that turned their passage to a mushy, muddy slog. Arnault, having not eaten anything for over a day and being understandably terrified for most of that time, soon proved too frail to walk on his own. Larkin provided some of his supplies, and Robiery tried to help the man along. But both villages were clearly exhausted - mentally as well as physically.

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  So Larkin ending up carrying Arnault over his shoulders, while keeping some attention and assistance for Robiery. That at least gave him some relief from the overwhelming sense of failure and uselessness that dogged his steps.

  It was mostly the cloying darkness that settled around them like a nightmare which Larkin most felt. The constant fear that the horrible buzzing drone would start up again; either behind or ahead of them. And also the fear that monsters might not be so helpful as to announce their approach.

  It made for a long trek back.

  The sky was lightening, but still dark, when they finally trudged into the fishing village.

  He glanced over at Robiery, who was still managing to stagger along - Arnault had passed out several hours ago.

  “What’s this place called?”

  The man initially seemed not to hear Larkin’s question, the first words that had been spoken in hours. But he then coughed out an answer.

  “Fari.” He said, and then. “What now?”

  A good question, and one that Larkin didn’t have an answer for. The place was completely dark right now, even the inn that he’d stayed at previously.

  But it was in that direction that he set off regardless. At the very least both Arnault and Robiery needed proper rest.

  A gentle tap on the door elicited no response, so Larkin became gradually louder until he was hammering at it so hard that he was at risk of breaking the thing down. He kept this up despite shouted curses from upstairs in the building, and then the sound of someone moving angrily towards it.

  The door was yanked open and the owner glared out. It was the same one who’d been so pleasant before, though Larkin could understand his change in demeanour given the circumstance.

  “What are ya doing banging on my door at this hour?” He growled, only for his eyes to widen as he took in the three of them.

  His gaze fixed on Larkin.

  “You…!” He choked.

  And whether it was due to Larkin being a Classbearer, or the sorry state of the other two; or maybe just the innkeeper being a decent guy, they were soon established in the common room with a freshly lit flame going and hastily heated up soup in hand.

  Even as the innkeeper was doing this, he also had one of his workers rush off to gather the village elders.

  Larkin sat slouched on a bench, watching as a still sleeping Arnault was taken off to a proper bed. But he forced himself to his feet as a group of old-timers entered.

  He was prepared to get a grilling or for them to mock his earlier statement about dealing with the problem himself. But instead the group seemed wildly alarmed at the idea of hundreds of flying monsters so close to their home.

  Which, put that way, made a lot of sense. Recriminations could come later.

  When Larkin suggested that he go to Gavlim to update the Adventurer Guild about the threat, the idea was readily agreed to. The prune-faced man that seemed to lead them - who was apparently called Cocin - even said that he’s get one of the local fishermen to take him by boat.

  “It’ll take the best part of the day.” Cocin told him. “But you’ll get there only a little later than the first messenger we sent.”

  That would be the person that they’d sent just earlier that day. With, as it now seemed, a far less troubling report than the situation seemed to warrant.

  Larkin sensibly took the time to change out of his clothes - now thoroughly covered in various monster fluids - but was still sitting on the boat before the sun was properly up.

  And it was then that he discovered both that he got seasickness, and it couldn’t apparently be overcome through either his Fighter Class or Calm Mind Skill.

  Focus on the horizon, he desperately told himself. He was sure that he’d heard that from someone. But whether that was a false solution or if it just didn’t work for him, it still didn’t seem to help.

  Fortunately, the grizzled seaman piloting the wretched thing had been told by Cocin the reason for their trip. So he didn’t waste any time sneering at the unhappy landlubber and focused instead on getting the floating coffin to move as fast as possible.

  For his part, Larkin closed his eyes and just desperately hoped that the ordeal would soon come to an end.

  After an agonizing period of time, he settled into a lightly drowsing state, and found the landscape slipping by in a disjointed fashion; half-seen visions of coastline changing behind every blink of his eyes. And then, finally, a blob formed on the horizon.

  A pretty ugly blob, it has to be said.

  Gavlim was a mass of dark grey stone structures that were enclosed in an equally ugly stone wall. And those dense fortifications were themselves surrounded by an outer ring of wooden buildings. All clinging together on the shoreline like a particularly unsightly mole.

  Larkin took a tentative sniff of the air but still only mostly smelt salt. He’d heard that towns in olden times stank, but that thankfully didn’t seem to be the case in Systemia.

  Probably more magical hijinks, he thought.

  The sky had taken on a mildly orange tint by the time that Larkin finally got off the miserable piece of flotsam. But there were already plenty of people out and about on the harbour.

  And, looking around, Larkin realised that this was the most people he’d seen in one place since leaving Earth.

  Which did present a slight problem.

  “Hey.” He said, turning back to the boat to look at the fisherman. “Do you know where the Guild is?”

  The grizzled man paused from tying the boat to the pier - or at least that’s what it looked like he was doing.

  “It’s in the central square.” He grunted, pointing a finger. “Terracotta roof, opposite the big temple.”

  Larkin nodded, turning and going up the street that the man had indicated. Even after he’d left the area around the docks behind there were plenty of folk around, some giving him noticeably incurious looks as he went past.

  And he saw some actual guards around, which might explain why the townsfolk weren’t worried about him. They wore chain shirts, had metal helmets, and walked with swords on their own at their hips. They also wore green tabards, cut diagonally in blue.

  It gave them a distinctly uniform appearance, despite the varying quality of the equipment - and people - wearing them.

  Larkin could feel his Fighter Class practically sneering at the idea of those guards being a threat, but they were certainly able to ward off brawlers and drunks.

  The sense of some police force gave an added perception of order to the city. It was a clear evening without any rain, so if you were unaware of the growing monster menace you could be forgiven for thinking that it was going to be a pleasant night.

  The road that the fisherman had directed him to grew a bit wider after a few hundred paces and then opened up into a big open space. The central bit was grass with cobblestones going around it, and a bronze statue on a raised stone plinth.

  There were a number of buildings standing around the edge of the square, most looming impressive in combinations of grey stone columns and wide glass windows. But Larkin’s gaze, and steps, went to the sole one that had orange tiles across its low and slanted roof.

  It was a modest building, certainly compared to its neighbours. Just two floors, with only the bottom one being made of stone. And neither did it seem particularly busy, he didn’t see anyone coming in or out in the time it took him to walk across the square and to the front door.

  The feeling he had of faint disuse continued when he entered. The room beyond looked more like a bar than anything else; a number of chairs and tables were scattered about the place with a long bar at the far end. It didn’t seem as big as the building itself though, and he figured that a couple of doors behind the bar might lead to other spaces.

  There was a single man in the bar, standing behind the bar, and he had his face buried in a book. It took the time for Larkin to cross the room towards him for the man to look up.

  And he seemed pretty normal. Average height, thinning brown hair, and a build that had Larkin peg him as not being any kind of fighter himself. The most remarkable thing about him was probably his smile; as he demonstrated when he caught sight of Larkin.

  That’s a face you can trust, Larkin thought - immediately wondering how much of a mask that was.

  “Evening.” The man said, apparently not able to read Larkin’s thoughts. He looked Larkin up and down. “I don’t think I’ve seen you before. How can the Guild help you?”

  Larkin hesitated briefly, turning his head to take in the state of the place again.

  “This is the Adventurer’s Guild, then?” He asked, his voice carrying more scepticism than he had meant it to.

  Though the man gave a genial chuckle.

  “Indeed it is.” He confirmed. “And I am Gascon, the secretary of this branch.”

  Larkin nodded. He apparently had the right place even if it wasn’t quite as he had imagined it.

  “I’ve come from Fari.” He said. “There are monsters that have attacked the villages of Red Oak and Willow.

  Gascon nodded, though one eyebrow quirked up a little.

  “We received a report from Fari earlier today.” He said. “We were planning to send a team out tomorrow.”

  But on hearing that, Larkin cut in.

  “That’ll be too late.” He said. “The report you got was old. We now know that there’s hundreds of flying monsters. They might start attacking Fari - or any other place - if we wait too long.”

  The secretary’s eyes narrowed as his smile faded, a little. He didn’t immediately respond to Larkin’s words, though. Instead the man seemed to evaluate him again.

  “That’s certainly far more alarming than what we previously heard.” Gascon finally said. “Have you seen those monsters yourself?”

  Larkin impatiently nodded, which got a slower acknowledging bob of the head from the secretary.

  “I think the Branch Head will want to speak to you.” The man murmured, almost to himself.

  Which led to Larkin ending up, fortunately very shortly later, being confronted with not just the head of the Adventurer’s Guild branch in Gavlim, but also the captain of the local guard, a much older man in robes who seemed to be representing the local temple, and a harried middle-aged woman in fancy clothes who looked like she’d been pulled away from some fancy event.

  “Describe the monsters.” Captain Davort instructed, voice brusque. The man was in leather and chain armour, and stood straight backed despite the grey touching his hair. A blue and green tabard hung loosely around his chest.

  Larkin did his best to comply, trying to dredge up every little detail he could think of about the buzzing killers. And then he repeated the description that Arnault had given of the capture of all the people in that village.

  The gathered faces were all looking grim when he was done, and the woman in the fancy dress looked like she was going to be sick.

  “Those sound like a hive-type monster breed.” Davort murmured, glancing at the Branch Head. “What do you think, Lady Cezar?”

  The adventurer was a short woman who looked to be in her late twenties or early thirties with cropped brown hair and a broad freckled face. In sharp contrast to the armoured figure of the captain, she was wearing a loose-fitting tunic and trousers. After a brief pause she gave a noncommittal grunt.

  “Sounds like it. Could be a bunch of different sorts, though.” The woman gave Larkin a sharp look. “Did any of the drones get you with their stingers?”

  Larkin hesitated, he hadn’t wanted to give any details of his Null Mage abilities so had just said that he’d killed some of the flying monsters. But he wasn’t going to hide any bit of information that might be useful. And even if he had wanted to, there was something about Cezar that made him think that lying to her would be a very bad idea.

  She gives off some very powerful vibes. He thought. Not particularly threatening, but just… like she was more there than everyone else in the room.

  And he recalled what he’d heard some of the villagers say; and found himself wondering how long-lived Classbearers could be.

  Who knows how all this magic nonsense works, he thought to himself. Shouldn’t surprise me if Cezar was actually twice as old as she seemed.

  So he nodded politely in response to her question.

  “One of them got me in the arm and one got me in the leg. They didn’t hurt that much but another got me in the neck.” He gestured at the latter spot. “It felt really painful after a few moments, like I was on fire or something.”

  Cezar raised an eyebrow. “And after that?”

  Larkin gave a shrug.

  “I killed it and levelled up, so the pain went away.”

  He didn’t think that was a very satisfactory answer, but the woman gave a pleased grunt and turned to the others.

  “Firestingers. I’d bet on it.” She said, voice confident. “That means a Queen and a hive somewhere nearby. And Enforcers, too, most likely.”

  That got a muttered curse from the captain, and the priest looked grim, but the older woman raised an eyebrow.

  “You’re that certain, Cezar?” She asked, glancing at Larkin. “From that level of detail?”

  The Branch Head nodded, seemingly unbothered by the scepticism in the other woman’s voice.

  “There’s only so many Hive-types that match that description, Mayor Harcort.” She replied. “Regular Stingers don’t have the effects described and if they were Archstingers… Well, then this news wouldn’t have reached us."

  Cezar paused, and gave a dark chuckle.

  “Thank the Six we don’t have an Archstinger Queen nearby…” But then she shook her head. “It’s still pretty incredible that a Firestinger Queen was able to force itself so far through the Wards. It would be causing her great pain, even if she’s still young.”

  Larkin jumped in on that.

  “I was told that the monsters were attacking the local Wardstone.” He reported.

  News of which did not go down well.

  “That would be a disaster.” The captain growled, though the mayor had a different take.

  “That was only put in place eight years ago.” Harcourt announced, sounding indignant. “Duke Gullone’s cursed poll tax meant we had to take a loan out from the Banking Guild. Which we’re still paying back!”

  The priest gave the woman a look halfway between disapproval and exasperation, but Cezar ignored her entirely as she turned to Davort.

  “I’ll head out with my team tonight.” She said. “But even when we get rid of the Queen there will likely be leftover Stinger drones littered around the area. Do you have the personnel to run patrols, Hein?”

  The soldier made a face but nodded.

  “Barely.” He growled, shooting a brief look towards the mayor. “But I’ll gather a contingent and lead them out at first light tomorrow.”

  That got a nod from Cezar who then glanced back towards the bar where Gascon was still standing.

  “I’ll be taking everyone. Hold the fort.”

  With that shout, she started to move towards the front door.

  “Wait!” Larkin blurted.

  Cezar paused, glancing back at him. But even as she opened her mouth, Larkin spoke again.

  “Please, take me with you.”

  The woman paused for a moment, her eyes studying him before going down to his sword.

  “We could always use the help.” She finally said. “What Class are you?”

  Larkin didn’t even hesitate.

  “Fighter.” He said, not bothering to mention the Null Mage Class when he didn’t have any Skill from it. Even if the ability was a literal life-saver, he couldn’t even consciously use it.

  Cezar nodded, turning away from the door.

  “Come on then.” She beckoned as she headed the other way, lifting up part of the bar to make her way to the back of the building. “Better get you things to use that aren’t utter crap.”