Junfa April: Chapters 6-10 (Patreon)

Chapter 6

As they got closer to the sounds of fighting, Grant could tell the battle was winding down.  It didn’t have the intensity of a battle in full-swing, or the screams of defeat from the scouts.  April Second must have thought the same, because he allowed the Saunterlings to slow down from their mad sprint across the bumpy plains.

“My guess is they scared up some Corrupted Massquitos.”  He waved his hands as if to indicate the entire expanse of the low-rolling hills they were traveling over.  “This place is lousy with them, especially if there is standing water.  It’s where they like to spawn.”

“What kind of creature are they?”  Grant lifted his hand to shade his eyes, trying to see farther ahead.  “Some type of bug?”

“It’s a mosquito-like insect about the size of a hummingbird, and they like to swarm you and drain your blood.”  Grant couldn’t help but shudder at April Second’s description.  “Yeah, they aren’t fun.  It is really hard to hit one, especially with this.”  He patted the mace strapped to his waist.  “My Wielded Weapon is too heavy to swing quickly, so I have to make sure the timing is right if I want to hit them out of the air.”

“Do you have any spells you can use to help?  Yesterday, I used my Thundering Step spell to kill a swarm of Corrupted Preying Mantis.”  Grant did his best to keep the pride of killing so many enemies out of his voice, but he didn’t quite manage it.  “It worked perfectly on swarming creatures like that.”

“Nah, mate.”  April Second rubbed the stubble on his chin.  “My spells don’t work like that.  I have one that allows me to bond just about anything with wood to help when a wagon breaks down, and another that helps move dirt around.  If a path is too rough or steep, it can turn the unpassable into the passable.  Or, if a wagon gets stuck, I can firm up the ground to get them out.”

“Huh.”  Grant sat quietly in the wagon, thinking about how his path was so different.  It seemed like April Second gave up personal power for the betterment of others, drastically reducing his potential combat capabilities.  He felt both impressed, and humbled.  “I can see why you chose those spells.”

“Well mate, it’s always important to remember what you are fighting for in the end.  I fight for my people.  If I can help them while only making it a little harder for me when I’m in a battle, then that’s an easy choice.  Help my people survive, and the only thing I have to do is train harder?  Fair dinkum, I say.”  Grant sat quietly, thinking over what the Wielder had said.  Was Grant putting too much focus on himself, and not enough on the people he was supposed to one day rule?

<Every leader - to lead effectively - has to be in a position to actually help.  That means sometimes they have to take care of themselves.>  Sarge paused to let his words sink in before continuing to speak into Grant’s mind.  <I’m not saying a leader shouldn’t make sacrifices for his people, but you aren’t to that place yet.  First, you have to survive to the end of the year.  Then, you can worry about what choices you can make to benefit your people.>

April Second steered the wagon around another pit, and the warriors of the wagon train came into sight.  There were only three people surrounding an oversized two-wheeled chariot, with the single biggest Saunterling Grant had ever seen.  It was almost twice the size of April Second’s lizards, and they were already impressive specimens compared to the average cold-blooded pack animals Grant had seen elsewhere in the convoy.

“There’s your future mates!”  April Second pointed to the two men and one woman, while Sarge muttered in the back of Grant’s head about the improbability of him managing to mate with anyone.  “I think once we get you introduced, she’ll be apples!”

“I’m sure we’ll get along great, if that’s what you mean.”  Grant studied the three people as they came to a halt.  They were all dressed in hardened leather armor that looked like it was sturdy enough to be at least Early Summer Light Armor, maybe even Medium Armor.  Their weapons didn’t have the same weight to the senses that Grant had begun associating with Wielded Weapons, but they were more than ordinary.  That made these three Vassals.  “I can’t wait to work with them.”

“Team Three, I have a fourth member for you to work with.”  April Second hopped off of his wagon and shook hands with the oldest of the three warriors.  He was a little past middle-aged, but still had the steely gaze and straight posture of a warrior not quite out of their prime.  “This is Grant Monday.  He comes to us from the other side of the barrier, all the way from District January.”

“It’s been awhile since we have seen one of those, eh mates?”  The old man’s accent wasn’t nearly as thick as April Second’s, and Grant almost let out a sigh of relief.  “We didn’t pick him, so I take it the Junfa decided to assign him to us?”  His steely gray eyes and weathered skin made him look like a tough piece of brigandine armor come to life.  “How long are we supposed to babysit him?”

“Don’t worry, Skor.  You won’t have to hold this one’s hand too much.”  April Second pointed a thumb at Grant.  “Junfa said he at least has the spells to fight, and the Warden spoke up for him after he helped put out that fire yesterday.  Besides, Team Three rotates to rear guard next week.  No more easy life hiding out here while the rest of us have to do real work.”  The four caravaners laughed, meaning it was clearly a joke.  Grant figured being on a scout patrol was probably one of the most dangerous jobs on the wagon train.  It might even rank up there with handling the Meatballs.

“As long as he ain’t a Shonky, I guess he’ll do.”  Skor walked over and shook Grant’s hand.  “Well met, Spring child.  I’m Skor Ledri, Vassal to April Tenth.”  The man hefted a heavy bow made from horn, which made sense considering the lack of trees in the area.  “I’m the leader for Team Three, and our designated marksman.  That’s Reimaria, our Basher and Vassal of April Second over there, and this is Sokkur, the Shieldbearer, who is Vassal to April Twenty.  Our usual fourth, Fotur, got injured by an Enchanted Stabbing Stalker, so it will be nice to have you along, mate.”

“Um, what’s a Corrupted Stabbing Stalker?  It sounds like it would give up quite a fight.”  Grant was confused when they started laughing.  “What?  What did I say?”

“Mate, a Stabbing Stalker is an almost harmless creature unless you accidentally step on it.”  Reimaria was the first to recover from their laughing fit, so she answered Grant.  “Imagine a hedgehog, but with metal spikes instead.  Fotur just fell on one a kid was keeping as a pet when stumbling to the latrine pit, and it tore up his back.  It’s going to take some time until he is healed enough to be able to wear armor, or fight again.”

“Oh, uh, I guess I can see why that’s funny.”  Grant let out an awkward chuckle.  It sounded like a painful injury to him, but he was starting to realize their sense of humor wasn’t quite the same as his.  “So, what do we do now?”

“Well, first thing is you put your pack in that bag on your hip.”  Skor pointed at the oversized pack on Grant’s back.  “That thing is ridiculous, and makes it impossible for you to hide.”

Chagrined, Grant took his pack off to try out his storage bag for the first time.  He took the bag off his belt and set it on the ground.  At first, he struggled to figure out how to open it.  The bag opening only had a tiny circumference, and getting his pack inside seemed impossible at first.  When he started to put the edge of his pack in, the opening just kept growing until the whole thing just seemed to get sucked in after getting a little more than halfway into the bag.  It made him jump, causing the others to laugh at him once more.

“Don’t worry, it won’t eat you.  Those bags don’t accept anything that’s still alive.”  Skor motioned to the much-nicer-looking bag hanging from his own belt.  “If you want to pull something back out of it, just put your hand in and think really hard about what it is you are reaching for.  It will be there almost before you are done thinking about it.”

“Why is it so heavy now?”  Grant felt like he was still lifting his pack, but now all the weight was concentrated all in a much smaller circumference.  When he tied it on his belt, Grant had to tighten the belt all the way, just so it wouldn’t fall off his waist.  “How is this any better than my pack?”  Once again, the caravaners laughed like he had said the funniest joke in the world.

“Oh, that wiley Sheila!”  April Second walked over and motioned for Grant to hand him his storage pouch.  He grunted at the weight.  “She got you good, mate.  You never specified which kind of bag to give you.  This is just a plain space-saving bag like we use in the wagons.  They don’t reduce weight at all!  These kinds of bags are much easier to make, especially compared to the nice ones we give to the warriors.  I’m sorry, mate.  I guess Junfa really wants to test your patience.”

<She probably wants you to go back to her and ask for a better storage bag, where she will then renegotiate for even more favorable terms.>  Sarge chuckled evilly in Grant’s head.  <It’s better this way.  Imagine the weight training you can do now!  Oh, I have so many ideas…>  As Sarge trailed off, Grant felt a shiver go down his spine.  He had a feeling this was going to be a bad thing.

“It’s fine.  I’m still carrying the same thing as I was before, so nothing has really changed.”  Grant tied it back to his belt when April Second passed it over.  “Now it just takes up less space.  That’s still an improvement.”

“Well, I’ll let you finish your rounds.  I’m sure collecting all of the Massquitos will take a donkey’s year.”  April Second jumped on his wagon while the members of Team Three looked at Grant with decidedly sardonic grins.  “Have fun!”  The Wielder’s wagon turned sharply, and he quickly disappeared into the distance.

“Looks like the new guy gets to collect the corpses!”  Sokkur, the team’s Shieldbearer, was the youngest of the team.  Grant guessed he was barely over eighteen, but Sokkur was large enough that his relative inexperience on the team was easily overlooked.  His size reminded Grant of the insane Clown Knight he had fought in District March, except Sokkur wasn’t wearing any plate armor to make him look larger.  He was just that big.  “We can’t be leaving them around to attract other beasts, so it’s gotta get done.”

“We’ll let you keep the corpses, since you gotta pick ‘em up.”  Reimaria got nods of agreement from the other two members of the team before looking back at Grant.  “They aren’t worth much, but I bet you ain’t got much money that’s good here in the caravans.  It would be enough to help you some.  Fair Dinkum?”

“Sure, that sounds fair.”  Grant didn’t want to make a big deal about it anyway.  After all, he could use every dead beast and monster he could get his hands on to help build his pile.  “Where are they?”

“Out there, mate.”  Skor pointed with his bow toward the north, where Grant noticed the signs of a fight.  “Probably less than two hundred of ‘em.  Should be done in time for us to eat a late lunch if you hurry.”

Hearing that there would be food if he completed his first task quickly, Grant practically sprinted out to pick up the remains of the relatively giant blood-sucking insects.

<It’s been some time since you trained properly.  Do a squat every time you put a Massquito in your pouch.>  Grant opened his mouth to argue, but Sarge didn’t even let him talk.  <And don’t worry, I’ll help make sure you don’t miss any.  We don’t want to forget some, and leave your first task from your new team poorly completed.  Oh, and if you don’t hurry, you will miss out on food.>  Grant could only groan in dismay as he did his first squat to pick up a dead insect.  <Oh, good effort, but I said do a squat after you put a Massquito in your pouch.  You know what?  Your idea is better.  Do a squat when you pick one up, and then another when you put it in your pouch.  Good thinking!>  Grant’s second groan was much louder than the first.

Chapter 7

“We have rear guard duty for the next six days, so make sure you bring face cloths.”  Skor looked over at Grant, who was clearly confused by the order.  “The rear of the convoy is the worst place to be, mostly because of the smell.  If it hasn’t rained recently, it also means you end up breathing dust and dirt the whole day.”

“Yeah, just think about it.”  Sokkur stared out over the plains as they bumped along in the chariot, Grant and Reimaria sitting with their feet dangling over the back while Skor steered and the huge Shieldbearer tried to make himself smaller.  “When we are on rear guard, we breathe in all the farts of all the animals and people in the convoy for the whole day.”

“I’m not sure if you’re a drop kick, or a dazzler.”  Reimaria looked at Sokkur sideways.  “Probably both, if I’m telling it true.”

<Their speech irritates me endlessly.  I think I am going to take it out on you.>

“What did I do?”  Grant spoke louder than intended, and Reimaria looked at him oddly.  “I mean, what do we do when we are on rear guard duty?”

“Rear guards have several important jobs.  We make sure nothing sneaks up on us, send ranging pairs behind the convoy to check for someone following us, and do some training when we can.”  Reimaria counted off the three tasks on her fingers, before raising her pinky slowly and deliberately.  “And, most importantly, we never forget our face coverings.”  The small group laughed, and fell into a companionable silence.  The sound of the iron-shod wheels over the bumpy ground made it hard to hear each other anyway.

<This is actually a good chance for us to talk, without their nonsense interrupting me.>  Sarge paused, ordering his thoughts.  <I think it is time to start focusing your training in a different direction.  You have gained the Dao Seed of Change through exercise, and developing some skills in combat.  The change from Grant Leap, orphan living in a barn in District January, to Earl Spring, the Wielder of February Twenty Nine has been drastic.  It’s no wonder why you developed it.  Now, it’s time to change your Dao.>

“Change my Dao?”  Grant whispered under his breath, shocked at the idea.  “But, why would I change from the Dao of Change?  I don’t even know what it even really is yet, and you want me to switch?”

<The monsters in this region are far too powerful.  Their speed alone means you will be hard-pressed to make even a single strike against them before they land a blow on you.>  Sarge let that sink in.  Even a single blow from the weakest monsters in this District were dangerous, and both of them knew it.  <There are only two solutions.  Either you increase your armor cultivation, or you increase your weapon cultivation.  And I don’t know about you, but I don’t see an abundance of armorers around here.>

“You mean you want me to change to the Dao of Weapons or something?”  Grant rested his hand on his sword.  “Or maybe the Dao of Blades?”  Grant’s imagination ran wild with the thoughts of what kind of skills he would have to master to get such a Dao Seed.  It would take a whole lot of work.  “Are you sure we can’t just keep training like we are?  I am steadily improving as a warrior, after all.”

<To maximize damage, you have to be even more focused.  You are going to try and develop the Dao of the Uchigatana.>  For once, Sarge seemed almost hesitant with his own plan.  <For you to find your path to the Dao of the Uchigatana, you will have to complete many tasks, and collect many skills.>

“But, Sarge, you can’t just collect skills like they are mushrooms on the ground.”  Grant thought about the time he had actually gained the skill Plant Insight by plucking a mushroom he found.  That didn’t count.  “They take a lot of work, time, and dedication to develop.”

<I know.  Luckily for you, I know how to gain several of them.  Some are easier than others.>  Grant swallowed, already sensing the mountain of tasks in front of him.  <The first one shouldn’t be a problem.  Swing your sword perfectly ten thousand times from the high guard position.  Kill ten monsters using this exact swing - in a row - during a single battle.  That will get you the first skill to set you on the path of your new Dao.>

“But Sarge, that’s hard!”  Grant definitely didn’t see how the first one was easy.  “Why can’t I just keep doing what we were doing before?”

<It’s time to stop using Kenjutsu, and start living Kenjutsu.>  Sarge hummed in his sheath, like he was laughing.  <Besides, what is more proper for a holder of the Dao Seed of Change than to change is Dao?  If you change nothing, nothing will change.>

Grant had no argument against Sarge’s statement.  He did have a point.  Changing from the Dao of Change was just the kind of thing he should do if he wanted to walk farther down the path of his first Dao.  Grant didn’t have to like it though.

“So, how many monsters and beasts do you think we will fight as the rear guard?”  Grant turned to speak to Reimaria.  He didn’t want her to think he was crazy, just sitting there mumbling to himself.  Luckily, he didn’t think she had noticed over the noise of the wagon.  “I mean, it is probably pretty easy, right?”

“If it was ten years ago, I would agree with you.”  She looked back at Skor for a sign to continue, and he gave her a slight nod of approval.  “Even five years ago, it wasn’t very bad.  As long as you kept moving regularly, and didn’t stay in one place long enough to allow a beast wave to build up, things weren’t all that bad.”  Reimaria shifted against the side of the wagon to get more comfortable.  “Things were different then.  You were almost as likely to get raided by another caravan as you were a monster.  The battles were sometimes epic in scale, especially when the Houses brought all their forces to bear.”  She paused, getting lost in a fond memory.  “It’s how most of the people became Vassals.  Distinguish yourself on a raid, and you could get scooped up by a Wielder.”

“But recently, things have changed.”  Skor took over the story, his mouth turned down in a frown.  “The amount of monsters has gotten worse.  Much worse.”  He motioned to the younger Sokkur.  “Wielders have to make Vassals from those much younger than they used to prefer.”  Sokkur’s face fell.  “Not that you are doing a poor job, Sokkur.  I would fight beside you any day.”  The young man’s frown turned into a grin.  “But you are still far younger than what once was considered to be acceptable for the responsibilities of a Vassal.”

“What about the beasts changed so much?”  Grant felt the hum of approval from Sarge.  Apparently he wanted to know as well.  “Are they breeding more than they used to?”

“Yes and no.  That would be a third-order effect from not having enough warriors combing the plains to keep their population low.  That has certainly happened since the switch from a bunch of small caravans to only a few very large ones, but it isn’t the primary cause.”  Sokur motioned to the east, where several weeks away the border between District April and District May existed.  “The borders are failing.  Most don’t want to listen, or are too afraid to admit it, but I have seen it.  When enough of the beasts try to force their way through at once, they are slipping through in greater and greater numbers.  It doesn’t help that the House Thursday tyrant in charge of District May encourages it.”  He spit to the side, showing what he thought of the leadership of their neighbor.  “No one here knows why there are so many monsters in May in the first place, but my guess is they aren’t much better off than we are now.  We only greet their messenger once a year at the Conclave of Houses, and they always look like they have been through the wringer by the time they make it to us.  Then they just stand there and demand money anyway, so we send their sorry rear-ends back the way they came.”

“Do they travel in great convoys as well?”  Grant was trying to picture what it would be like if the next District was the same as this one, but he had experienced such differences between each that he didn’t expect it would be possible.  “Or did they do something else?”

“Most of the Wielders strong enough to travel into May can’t, otherwise they would risk weakening their own wagon trains too much, and the messengers from May aren’t exactly forthcoming with information.”  Skor shook his head in disgust.  “Such a waste.  If they would only work with us, I have no doubt things would improve for both of us.”

“What about a group of Wielders going together to scout?”  Grant was having a hard enough time believing that a single Wielder would make such a difference, but he was still new here.  “Couldn’t a bunch of weaker Wielders go over to check things out?”

“No.”  Sokkur was the one to answer, his tone firmer than the seat Grant was riding on.  “Even one Wielder is too important to risk.  That’s why they aren’t even allowed to fight each other anymore.  They must either fight through proxies, or activate one of the training systems before they clash.  Each Wielder represents several Vassals, and even April Thirtieth, with his Calendar of two, is powerful in his own right.  Losing three trained warriors could spell the end of a caravan in an instant, mate.”  They all grew silent at the thought of an entire wagon train getting wiped out.

“But, to answer your question, we will see plenty of action as the rear guard.”  Reimaria tried to lighten the mood, her tone upbeat.  “It isn’t as much action as you would see as a scout patrol, but I wouldn’t worry about being bored.”

“We’re almost there, Team Three.  Better look alive.  We don’t want the Wielders to think we are slackin’ on the job.”

Grant had a better idea of how important the job and responsibilities of the Wielders and their Vassals were to the people of District April.  It also gave him a big problem.  His fastest path to increasing his cultivation was by killing Wielders.  How was he supposed to do that now that he knew they never fought?

Chapter 8

“Get yourself some food, and meet us at the rear of the wagon train.”  Skor stopped their chariot at about the halfway point of the long stretch of vehicles.  “Teams eat from the first food wagon.  You have to run to keep up with the wagon, but once you get the food, just start walking. The rear of the wagon train should catch up to you by the time you get done eating.”  As Grant hopped off the back of the wagon, the members of Team Three sped off toward the front.

<They are on their way to report, probably about what kind of questions you have been asking.>  Grant nodded in agreement as he dodged between wagons, running to get in line behind a few other guards waiting for food.  <I don’t think they are planning anything against you, just doing their due diligence.  I would do the same in their shoes.>

“Well, I don’t blame them for being careful.  They don’t know me yet.”  Grant was in good enough shape now that the slow run behind the food wagon wasn’t even winding him.  “All they have seen me do is kill some bugs and point a water hose at a grass fire.”

“True, and I still don’t know what an Earl is.”  Grant jerked his head around to see Junfa April running along behind him.  “It is a title, and I would like to know why a person with a title is traveling alone, without a Calendar of Vassals to guard him, and asking about how to gain the title of Lord of the Month.”  Her tone was serious, but the slight smile on her face made it seem as if she was joking.

“I… have a quest.”  Grant thought about his quest, and the screen popped up in his vision.  He read it over before telling her what it said.

Quest: Heal the World (Lvl 100. Legendary.)

Grant Leap, by picking up the Wielded Weapon ‘February 29’, you will be henceforth known as Grant Monday and will gain one cultivation level automatically, no matter how much cultivation would otherwise be required.

Important Information: The Wielder of February 29, Grant Monday, has one year to gather the power of the Lords of the Month and return February 29 to the status of a completed Wielded Weapon.

Rewards: Completion of the quest ‘Heal the World’ will result in the reward of the title ‘Calendar King’ and all wealth and responsibilities associated with that position, along with the ability to wield the most powerful weapon in the world.

Failure Conditions: Failure to complete the mandatory quest ‘Heal the World’ within one year will result in the loss of all cultivation levels gained since the acquisition of February 29, plus the loss of an additional one level.

Current Progress:

Three Lords of the Month collected

Spring Constellation formed

“And now you know why I’m here, why I don’t have a Calendar, and why becoming the new Junfa is so important to me.”  Grant accepted a brown paper sack and small bladder that held some kind of cider to drink.  An easy meal to eat on the run.  “I was level zero when I picked up the Uchigatana, so if I fail, I go to cultivation level negative one.”

“Then, you die.  A very terrible death.”  Junfa April grabbed her own meal from the person handing them out from the back of the wagon.  Grant was mysteriously pleased to see that she ate the same meals as her warriors.  “So, Earl is the Title given when you are the Lord of several Districts.  And your weapon isn’t complete yet, so you can’t form a Calendar of Vassals.”  She led them out of the way of the moving wagons and slowed to a walk.  “You know, becoming the Calendar King just to survive another year?  Now that’s living with style!  I like it.”

“You aren’t going to try and stop me?”  Grant knew that telling her everything outright was a risk, but Junfa April had saved his life already, and had welcomed him into her wagon train.  Even if she had given him a sour trade on a storage bag.  He was pleased she had taken the news so well.  “I’m trying to take over this District without even understanding how things work here yet.”

“In case you forgot, you won’t be taking anything.  You have to earn the title of Junfa during the Conclave.”  Junfa April pursed her lips, and leaned over as if to sniff Grant.  “You make me tingle when I stand next to you.”  Grant was completely unsure of how to reply.  “Have you formed a Dao Seed?”

“Wha-”  Grant stopped to clear his throat.  The sudden change of subject threw him off.  “How did you know that?”

“I hold the Dao of Motion inside me.  It formed after mastering the use of two whips at once.”  She increased her walking pace in order to keep the two of them outside of listening range for another of the Guard Teams.  “I think my Dao is reacting to yours.”

“The Dao of Motion?  I guess that makes sense.  I have something close.”  Grant thumped himself on his chest proudly.  “I formed the Dao Seed of Change.”  His shoulders drooped as he thought about what he was facing during training with Sarge.  “Which might be the worst Dao ever.  Since it is the Dao of Change, I have to change my Dao to something else.”

“Mate, that’s the richest thing I’ve heard in years!”  It was the first time Grant had heard the accent of the more common people slip into her vernacular.  “Forming one Dao, just to have to turn around and get another to advance the first one?”  She laughed so hard she snorted.

“I don’t think it’s so funny.  Now, I have to develop the Dao of the Uchigatana if I have any chance of surviving to see District December.”  Grant sighed, and was struck by a moment of despair.  “I have been training and fighting with my Uchigatana almost constantly for over three months now, and I still don’t have the slightest idea why I haven’t formed the Dao for it already.”

“You sound like a rich man mourning that he doesn’t own everything.”  Junfa April paused to take a bite of the thick sausage wrapped in pastry that was extremely similar to what had been served for breakfast.  “Do you understand how rare it is to even have one Dao Seed?  And you formed one in only three months.”  She shook her head at him, then sighed.  “I guess having a Legendary Quest demands legendary actions.”  The Warlord of District April, the most powerful woman Grant had ever met, giggled.  It freaked him out a little.  “I wonder what else about you is legendary?”

“Um, what?”  Grant flushed red up to his hairline, and he could hear Sarge chuckling in his mind.

“Oh, you are too easy to wind up, Earl Spring.”  She laid a hand on his shoulder.  “The way I see it, if you survive long enough to bring down the barriers, you will help my people by giving us a chance to seek aid from the other districts.  Even dispersing the beasts more will dilute them enough to allow our people a chance at rebuilding a real life, and not the one dictated by roving bands of monsters.”  Junfa April took another bite of her food and patted the whip on her left hip.  Grant saw one of her trained tigers peek its head out of a thick patch of grass before disappearing again.  “Okay, I will help train you.  If you become the Calendar King, you must remember this kindness, and help my people.”

“I don’t -”

“You don’t know what to say?  I understand.  There is a lot of hard work and dedication in our future, but I am willing to do it.”  Grant wanted to say he didn’t need her help, but she cut him off before he had a chance.  “I’ll see you tonight for training, after we set the perimeter when we stop.”

“But -”  She was gone before he could say anything else, disappearing in the tall grass.  “Between training with her, pulling guard, filling my storage bag, and doing Sarge’s training, when am I supposed to sleep?”

<Oh, you forgot already?>  Sarge was humming with joy.  <Look at your rewards from completing the Spring Constellation, and read number six.>   Grant did as he asked, pulling up the list of seven rewards.

You have reassembled the Spring Constellation.

1) You have inherited the power of the Februarian Fragment of Vibrancy, the ability to restore your energy and mana to full whenever the month you are a Lord of is in its ascendency.

2) You have gained the ability to open the boundary separating any of the Spring Districts, as well as the boundary to April.

3) You have gained the ability to send a message to anyone within the Spring Districts.

4) You can now step through space and arrive anywhere within the Spring Districts so long as you are within a Spring District.

5) You have the power to name a regent for any District you are the lord of, granting them access to a single Fragment’s power.

6) You are always ready to take part in festivities: you no longer suffer negative effects from lack of sleep.

7) You have the ability to switch your name from Grant Monday to Earl Spring at will.

<See?  You don’t actually need to sleep anymore!>  The horror of realization crashed through Grant.  <We can train non-stop!>

“There you are, mate!  Better finish your food before Skor gets here, we have some training to do!”  Sokkur couldn’t help but be surprised by the look on Grant’s face as he walked up to him.  It looked like he was about to cry.

Chapter 9

“Time to earn that pay, Grant Monday.”  Skor had swapped out the chariot for one of the larger wagons, giving them more room to move around.  “You need to know how to fight as a member of Team Three, so you don’t get in the way of the others.”

Nodding silently, Grant stood at the rear of the open wagon bed, opposite Sokkur and his large shield.  Just in front of their wagon was the giant barrel on wheels owned by the Anti-Flame Fanatics.  The cult members swapped out running beside it and riding on the two seats mounted on the front and rear.  They sang at the top of their lungs the entire time, doing their best to entice any hungry beasts in our direction.

“If - well, when we get rushed - I’ll keep whatever it is off the wagon.  You and Reimaria each kill what I stun with my shield.”  Sokkur motioned back to Skor with his free hand.  “He will take care of the big stuff, and make sure we don’t get overwhelmed with his bow.”

“You stay to the left, and I will take the right.”  Reimaria swung her mace in large circles, stretching out her shoulders.  “Listen to whatever Skor says.  He has a sense of how a fight flows better than anyone.”

“Sounds good.  What about my spells?”  Grant rested his hand on his Uchigatana, ready to use Iaijutsu on the first monster that got close to the wagon.  “My lightning spell takes up a lot of room.”

“If it ever gets that bad, you will need to get clear of the wagon first.”  Skor’s eyes were roving the grasslands behind them, an arrow nocked and ready to loose.  “We have no defense against lightning, and I would be… upset if you shocked me.  Just hold off on using it unless I deem it necessary.”

“Yeah, that’s a good point.”  Grant almost stumbled when the wagon hit a bump, and he noticed they were starting to fall behind a little bit.  “Um, Skor?  The wagon train is pulling away from us.”

“That’s because we’re bait!”  Reimaria knelt on one knee to stabilize herself.  “Some of the ambush predators will follow the convoy and wait for someone to get separated before pouncing.  We don’t want that happening to someone not expecting it.”  She glanced back at Grant quickly before looking back out over the plains.  “The rear guard trails back about three hundred meters or so to make sure we are too tempting for them to wait.”

“What kind of ambush predators are we talking about here?”  Grant thought about Junfa April’s grass tigers, and had to suppress a shiver.  Those things were like ghosts.  Angry, deadly ghosts that enjoyed shredding things with knives.  “Should we move closer to the center of the wagon?”

“No, then they won’t pounce at all.”  Sokkur was resting his shield on the wagon bed.  “That would completely defeat the purpose of what we are out here to do, mate.”

They fell into silence, the four of them each watching for signs of an approaching attack.  Grant was mentally planning how he would manage fighting on the back of the wagon, when Skor finally broke the quiet ride.

“Okay, I think we have something.”  Grant went to turn around, but Skor stopped him before he could.  “No, don’t react.  It’s moving up on Reimaria’s side.  I think it’s a couple of Grasstopus.  Don’t let them get their arms wrapped around you.”

“What’s a Grasstopus?”  Grant knew it wasn’t the best time to ask, but he couldn’t help it.  “And what does it look like?”

“Have you ever seen an octopus before?”  Sokkur was subtly leaning toward Reimaria’s side of the wagon, trying to be ready without giving away that they were ready for the beasts to ambush.  “It’s like that, but they are made of grass.  The best way to fight them is with fire, but we can handle a few without it.”

“The only way to kill one is by removing its limbs, and then chopping apart the body.”  Skor bent his knees as he talked, getting a little lower to the wagon bed.  “They don’t have organs like a normal creature, so completely destroying them is the only option.”

“How can something be alive and not have organs?”  Grant turned his head to look back at Skor.  “That doesn’t even make any -”  The tentacle of grass snapping at his neck cut him off.  Luckily, Grant’s reflexes were honed by hundreds of hours of training.  His sword leapt from its scabbard like it had a will of its own, and his Iaijutsu sliced the attacking limb off before it could even get close to wrapping around his throat.

“There’s three!”  Sokkur intercepted the flailing tentacles from the two Grasstopus aimed for Reimaria with his shield, but he didn’t see the fourth one hiding near the rear of the wagon.  It wrapped a single thick grass tentacle around his ankle, and he was jerked off the wagon before anyone could even blink.  One moment he was there, the next, he was gone.

“Regent curse it!  Grant, help him!  The edges of his shield aren’t sharp enough to damage them!”  Skor fired three arrows faster than Grant could follow, their sharpened tips tacking the limbs trying to wrap around Reimaria to the wooden wagon.  Reimaria wasn’t doing very well either.  Crushing the grass limbs seemed to dislike getting crushed and smashed, but they only seemed to be stunned, not destroyed.  “Hurry, before they drag him off!”

Grant had to fend off three more limbs from the single creature on his side before he could jump, but those hits weren’t nearly as effective as when he used his Iaijutsu.  The lack of the ten percent damage boost he got from using Iaijutsu meant his normal Kenjutsu strikes weren’t enough to cut through the fibrous tissue of the grassy limbs.  Sarge had been right.  His weapon cultivation was too weak to do any damage.

<Your only choice is to use Iaijutsu for every strike.  It’s slow and clunky, but you have no choice otherwise.>  Grant sheathed his sword again, and jumped off the back of the wagon in a roll meant to lessen the impact with the ground.  <The drag marks of his passage through the grass are to your right.>  Sarge made an orange line show up in his vision, and Grant took off at a sprint.  <Also, you have been out of combat for longer than five seconds.>  Grant gave a sharp nod.  He knew what to do.

“Thundering Step!”  Grant’s speed increased by fifty percent as the spell activated, and he flew through the tall grass like he had been shot out of a catapult.  The orange line laid out by Sarge across his vision ended at an area of flattened grass almost a full minute’s sprint away from the convoy.  “The Grasstopus must have taken him and ran to get this far away.  But where are they?”

Grant was answered by a tentacle thicker than his wrist flying out of the center of the clearing.  The grass monster had been hiding in a dip in the ground, laying over the top of an unconscious Sokkur.  Somehow, the Shieldbearer was still holding on to the hunk of metal he called a weapon, and it was covering most of his torso.  Which is what the Grasstopus used to fling itself off of toward Grant when he used his Iaijutsu to slice the wrist-thick tentacle in half.

“Gah!  What is this stuff?”  The green substance that served as blood in the monster sprayed Grant in the face.  Plenty of it managed to get in his mouth, and it brought back horrible memories of the wheatgrass drinks he had been forced to consume back in District February.  “How dare you make me drink that crap again!”

The genuine fury that filled Grant supplied him with the adrenaline boost to dodge the next three blows aimed to smash him into the ground.  This Grasstopus was much larger than the other three they had been fighting at the wagon, and Grant could only flail his sworn ineffectively against it while he tried to get some space away from it.

<Your mana is recharged enough for another spell, but you need to get clear of the young warrior before you can use it.>

Shuffling sideways along the edge of the clearing, Grant managed to get far enough away that he thought it would be safe.  He rolled away into the tall grass just to be safe, and activated the spell that had already proven effective against the beasts of District April.

“Thundering Step!”  The lightning erupted out from February Twenty Nine in a perfect circle of destruction, causing electricity to dance across the ground around him in a perfect halo five feet in all directions.  And the Grasstopus didn’t even notice.  “Uh oh.”  Grant was struck by the tentacle hard enough that he was instantly knocked unconscious.  The impact with the ground twenty feet away is what woke him back up.

<That looked like it hurt.>  It was hard for Grant to understand Sarge over the loud ringing in his ears, and his left eye didn’t want to open.  <You need to move, or your friend is going to be paste.>

Grant groaned as he got back to his feet, every part of his body throbbing in pain.  The bands of metal in his chestplate were bent inwards, making it impossible for him to take a full breath.  He fought through the pain, knowing that a young man’s life depended on him.

<I don’t know what you are going to do to save him.  Even if you use Iaijutsu, the creature is too fast.  You might manage to remove one or two limbs, but then you will end up right where you just were.  Injured and on your back.>  Grant shook his head and hefted his sword in one hand.

“Don’t worry, Sarge.  I have a plan.”  Grant checked his mana and saw he had enough left to cast his offensive spell one more time.  “Thundering Step!”  He sprinted forward, using the spell’s speed boost to reach full speed in two paces.  By the time he made it back into the clearing, he was a blur.  The Grasstopus acted almost surprised when he emerged, but it was already moving back toward him.

<You don’t have enough strength to break his skin!  What kind of plan is this supposed to be, a suicide mission?>  Grant ignored Sarge and leapt, his speed sending him tumbling through the air over the beast’s head.

Then, he threw his sword like a javelin on top of the bulbous mass that made up the main body of the beast.  Where it bounced off ineffectively.

<I should have asked if it was a good plan.>

Chapter 10

The Grasstopus snatched Grant out of the air before he could even touch the ground.  As soon as he had let go of his Uchigatana, the spell stopped working, so he wouldn’t have been able to outrun the beast anyway.  The monster took it’s time, making sure to squeeze Grant hard, then relax right before his ribs gave way.  The pain was excruciating, but Grant refused to cry out.  This monster was far more intelligent than the average creature Grant had fought.  That is what he was counting on.  As it pulled him close to crush Grant in its grip, he raised an empty hand to point it at the monster’s face.

“Time is Space.”  The Uchigatana, which had already passed through this space when Grant threw it, materialized with the hilt in his hand.  And the last six inches of the blade were inside the brain of the Grasstopus.  It spasmed, almost ripping Grant in half, but its death throes were short-lived.  Grant dropped the few feet to the ground on his bruised chest, where he sucked in dirt trying to catch his breath.  “I told you I had a plan.”

<We need to discuss the difference between a plan, and a good plan.>  Sarge’s rebuke made Grant chuckle before groaning aloud as he got back to his feet.  <I saw the rise and fall of the Shieldbearer’s chest, but I can’t tell what his real condition might be.>  Grant moved to help him, but he felt a warning vibration from Sarge as he sheathed his sword.  <No, you need to help yourself first.  You are far worse off than you think.  Either use your Live by the Sword ability to heal, or take a potion before you do anything else.  You can help no one if you don’t take care of yourself first.>

Not willing to argue, Grant reached into his heavy storage pouch and pulled free one of his few healing potions.  He only drank half of it before walking over to the prone form of Sokkur.  The large warrior looked like he was sleeping, but the dirt under his head was slowly turning to mud.  He had some form of brain injury.  Not wanting to risk it, Grant poured the remaining half of his healing potion in the unconscious man’s mouth before sitting down to meditate.

Health: 212/520 -> 464/520. Critical areas focused. Soft tissue repaired to 90%. Organs repaired. Cracked ribs repaired to 90%.

Using Live by the Sword forced Grant to relive the battle, and he saw all the mistakes he had made.  Instead of fighting the thick limbs that tried to smash and crush him in a direct attempt to slice them apart, if he had only deflected them to the sides it would have been possible to reach the monster’s head without getting injured at all.  This ability was one of Grant’s most useful, but he didn’t enjoy the recurring realizations that he wasn’t anywhere close to the warrior he needed to become to reach District December.

“They’re over here!”  Skor’s shout brought Grant out of his daze.  His chest was sore, but nothing like what it was before he drank the healing potion and used his meditation ability.  His ‘skill’ that enhanced his pain didn’t help much either.  “By the Regents, that’s the biggest Grasstopus I have ever seen!”

“It looks like they are both injured.”  Reimaria ran to check on Sokkur first.  “We need a medico here immediately, and someone get a chariot so we can get him back to the convoy!”  The sound of several people running told Grant her orders were being followed, even if he was too sore to turn and look.  “It looks like you got run over by an Ice Ent, mate.”

“I feel like I got run over… by whatever that is.”  Grant grunted in pain as Skor helped him back to his feet.  “I already gave Sokkur half a healing potion, and I think he has a brain injury.  What happened to the other monsters after I left?”

“Oh, we handled them with no problem, mate.”  Skor tapped Grant’s breastplate, where it was pushing in on his chest.  “We should probably get you out of this, so you can catch your breath.”

“Don’t bother, I have it handled.”  Grant placed his hand on his chest and activated his utility spell.  “Apprentis Repair.”  The sound of the metal popping back into place signaled the release of pressure on his chest, and Grant let out a sigh of relief.  “That wasn’t very fun.”

“I would think not.  Tell me what happened.”  The two of them watched as a chariot with a stretcher on the back trundled into the clearing.  Skor let Reimaria handle loading Sokkur gently on the vehicle while Grant relayed how the fight had gone, only leaving out his ability to make his sword appear wherever it had already been.  “If I had known how big this one was, I would have handled it myself.”  He looked over the dead monster, and motioned to Grant’s storage bag.  “You earned the kill on this one.  Best get it stored away if you want to have any chance at entering the running for Junfa.”

“You know about that?”  Grant was a little surprised that Junfa April had told him.  He thought she would have given him the courtesy of keeping it quiet.

“Mate, I’m older than I look.  And I have read more than most.”  Skor patted Grant on the shoulder.  “I know what it means to have the title of ‘Earl,’ and I know what it means to carry that sword.”  He motioned to Grant’s Uchigatana.  “My mother was a Leap, and she told me tales of the return of the Leap Sorcerers when the end times approached.”  He silently watched as the chariot carted Sokkur out of the clearing, and toward the wagon train.  “If we aren’t close to the end, I’m a can short of a slab.”

“I don’t know about the end times, but I do know I need to win the title of Junfa if I want to see my next birthday.”  Grant stretched down and started trying to get the Grasstopus into his storage bag.  “And if you want to help me get it, I won’t say no.”

“Well mate, you have a lot of hard work ahead if you are serious about it.”  Skor bent down to help Grant stuff the monster in the bag.  “I’m only a Vassal, but I don’t mind showing you what I can.  You did save a member of my team, after all.  I owe you one.”

“You don’t owe me for that, but I’ll take your help anyway.”  Grant tried to pick his storage bag up off the ground, then grunted in surprise.  It was almost too heavy for him to lift.  “This isn’t going to be fun.”  After he managed to get it back on his belt, it wasn’t quite as bad.  The belt helped distribute the weight across his hips.  He certainly wouldn’t be running as fast now.  “Where’s our wagon?”

“It kept going with the rest of the wagons.  The convoy didn’t stop just because we were doing our jobs, mate.”  Skor started off at a slow jog, following the trail of the chariot.  “We have to catch back up to it.”

“Of course we do.”  Grant followed as best as he could with the storage belt hanging off of him.  “What else should I expect?”

<I don’t know why you are complaining already.  This is great!  You are getting mental and physical cultivation out of this.>  Grant could tell Sarge was giving him a hard time.  <That’s a win for us both!>

“Thanks Sarge.  I guess I should learn to look on the bright side of things.”  The stabbing pain in his ribs kept pace with his footsteps as he ran to catch up to the weathered Vassal in front of him.  Grant was worried about it getting much brighter.  It might burn him if it did.