Accidental Healer-Chapter 31 - The final raid

The day of the final wave arrives.

Jared’s group is more prepared this time. The last battle–if you could call it that–did wonders for their confidence. Before the last raid the mood was quiet and tense. Today? There is an electricity in the air. People are speaking casually, stances relaxed.

Maddux, who was pale and trembling mess before the last fight, now leans casually on his spear, deep in conversation with Alex about flanking maneuvers. His eyes are bright, animated—a far cry from the fear that once gripped him.

I stay quiet, letting their voices wash over me. They debate where to spend their next stat points, argue over which skills are worth the grind. It’s casual, almost light-hearted—a stark contrast from the silence that hung over our first raid.

I’ve felt it too—that shift from Please don’t let me die to This is incredible. What will 15 more points of Agility feel like? But there’s another question that lingers, one I can’t shake. Who’s paying the price for my power?

I clung to the idea that it was simply NPC’s but it was getting harder and harder to convince myself of that. Doesn’t mean I didn’t try.

Ben stood at the tree line, Samson’s shaggy grey fur blending into the shadows beside him. They watched in silence, Ben leaning against the rough bark, his posture just a little too casual, as if trying to convince himself he was at ease.

My boots crunched on the dirt as I make my way over to stand next to Ben. He barely acknowledges me–keeping his hands in his pockets, shuffling the dirt with his feet. I don’t say anything. I just stand next to him and fold my arms.

“The raids always come at my favorite time of the day.” Ben says, still watching the group.

Just like the last raid, the sun was just setting. Instead of clear blue skies clouds dotted the horizon. The sunset was breathtaking and was only enhanced by curves and breaks of the mountaintops.

“It really is something.” I glance down at Samson who is standing faithfully by Ben's side. “It’s amazing how far you’ve come in just a few days.”

He pulls his hand from his pocket to rest it on Samson’s head. “Yeah. I’ve learned a lot. My class is different than I expected.” He scratches Samson behind the ear unconsciously.

“The class beast tamer might be a bit–misleading. I’m still figuring things out. You better keep Samson safe out there.”

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I turn and give Ben a serious look. “Ben, you have my word that Samson will be my number one priority. He will be totally safe. I will follow him the entire fight.”

Samson was only level three. This fight would be interesting to learn how experience was distributed. On his own Samson would be totally outclassed. My shield should even out his defenses but his offensive output would be the real question.

Ben nodded but didn’t say anything else.

A shimmering buzzing noise pulls me from my thoughts as the raid portal begins to open.

This raid is different. Over a hundred raiders pour out of the portal, their heavy footsteps shaking the earth beneath us.

Another orc-like species, but this time their thick, leathery skin is red, and their saber-toothed jaws make them look even more monstrous.

I go through my normal pre-battle ritual. Offering a peaceful resolution, telling them I’d like to talk. Same as always my words fall on deaf ears. I’m not surprised but the offer helps ease my conscience.

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Our enemies are tall and powerful looking. But just like the other two raids before these creatures all look the worse for wear. Carrying nasty looking bone clubs that must be some kind of jawbone since there are still teeth attached to most.

Dressed in crude loincloths and open vests, they strike an imposing figure. But I can see the hollowness in their eyes, the weariness in their movements. Intimidating, yes. But I’ve learned to look past the bark to see the weakness beneath.

Mischief does what he does best. Moving like a shadow, weaving through the enemy ranks with lethal grace. He maims, not kills, a calculated cruelty that leaves his victims broken but alive. Between raids I made sure he was still progressing in levels.

The rest of the team joins in the fight. Just as I had predicted in spite of the intimidating look these creatures fell without much fight.

Alex’s attention to agility is already paying off and he wreaks havoc on the enemy ranks. Tanking the front lines with reckless abandon swinging is battleaxe like a man possessed. He is beaming ear to ear. Clearly he doesn’t share the same hesitations I do about who we’re killing.

Also, I should probably talk him about relying so heavily on my barrier spell in the future. I can already hear him blaming me when he overextends and my barrier breaks, allowing him to take damage. Yeah definitely need to break that habit, maybe find him some armor or something.

For my part–I spend all of the fight trailing Samson–darting through the enemies ranks. It’s exhilarating—weaving between attacks, striking with precision. I don’t even need to rely on my fighter skills. I move purely on instinct.

I can see their movements before they make them. These poor bastards don’t stand a chance.

You have killed Garmonian (Lvl 10, 9, 11, 10, 10). I have to consciously hold myself back from hewing the monsters down. I try to focus on creating openings for Samson to swoop in jaws snapping at throats. I’m pleased to see that the wolf catches onto the strategy and takes full advantage.

[Level up]

The Garmonians' time on earth was short lived.

Where had they come from? Who were they before they marched through that portal? I feel the illusion of them being NPCs slipping further and further away, replaced by a creeping unease. If they were real... if they were alive... what does that make me? Just another monster waiting for someone stronger to cut me down?

Was it possible we would be the one raiding someday? Will we be seen the same way if we do?

The final raid is over.