All the skills 3 a deckb.., p.2
All The Skills 3: A Deckbuilding LitRPG, page 2
Arthur wasn’t even tempted.
“No, that is not his only wish,” Brixaby interrupted, buzzing in between them. Willard took an instinctive step back. “In addition, I want Morrice to write a letter of apology to Lilac—hmm. You have no reading skill, do you? Fine. Morrice will dictate the letter, and Willard will write it. You may as well include the rest of this class in your apology too, as you’ve forced Arthur to kick you out, and that will leave the formation of one dragon pair short—”
He was interrupted by a sound that froze everyone in place.
Alarm gongs.
The sound of a scourgeling eruption in progress somewhere within the kingdom.
And as newly minted flyers—even brand-new ones—the class was now required to respond.
Chapter Two
Arthur was unsurprised when a messenger dragon immediately dropped out of the sky to take him to Valentina.
Usually, the purples and some of the smaller blues acted as couriers. This time, however, it was a young red dragon, big enough to carry several people but lacking a rider.
“Valentina wishes to see the Legendary pair at once,” the red said with an absent nod to Brooks. With a start, Arthur realized the newcomer red was a Rare dragon, just like Brooks.
It wasn’t something he could put his finger on—no markings or badges to designate a Rare versus a lower-tiered Uncommon. It was just a feeling he had been able to identify ever since bonding with Brixaby.
Odd. Arthur thought that he recognized all the Rares in the hive by sight now, if not by name. This red was new.
“Of course,” Arthur said and turned to Athena for last-minute instructions.
It shouldn’t have surprised him much to find her staring at him expectantly instead.
There was a blank moment.
“What are your orders for the class, sir?” Athena said pointedly.
It was a tacit reminder that he was in charge of the class, even though he was as green as everyone else.
Arthur paused and swept his gaze over the rest of the waiting riders and dragons. The expressions ran the entire rainbow of emotions between anticipation, anxiety, and dread for the upcoming scourge-eruptions. Then there were the two most downcast faces of all that belonged to the purple riders.
Lilac would be out for the rest of the day even if she wasn’t dealing with the aftermath of being hit by Morrice’s card power. The other purple, Tofu, looked shaken. And who could blame him after what happened to Lilac?
Everyone else, though, was capable. Arthur didn’t intend to sit this eruption out, so he wasn’t about to tell his classmates to do the same.
And there was a saying that the best part of leadership was delegation.
“Instructor Athena.” Arthur pitched his voice to carry to all surrounding him. “Please prepare the class to best help with the eruption. I’ll be meeting with Leader Valentina and will return shortly.”
“Very good, sir.” Athena saluted him, and most of the others did too.
The marked holdouts were the few he suspected were friends with Willard and Morrice.
Paying them no mind—because he was certain Athena had noticed and would be chewing them out momentarily—Arthur quickly alighted onto the red’s neck. The dragon had a saddle already fitted, though it was an impersonal one without any markings to show that someone owned and took care of it.
Did this dragon not have a rider at all?
That was unusual for a hive as small as Wolf Moon. Rare dragons were thin on the ground and somewhat precious.
Well, no harm in being friendly. Arthur waited until the dragon had taken off into the sky—usually the most labor-intensive moment of flight—before he spoke. “I’m Arthur, and this is Brixaby. Can I have your name?”
“Shadow,” the dragon grunted, which was an unusual name for a red, whose natural magic usually involved high energy of different forms. Fire. Heat. Occasionally plasma. Shadow had a deep-ruby red hide with no hint of orange, which usually tended to mean energy manipulation.
Arthur was trying to find a polite way to ask about his card’s power and his rider—if any—when Shadow curtly spoke again.
“Brixaby, sir. You’d better hold on.”
Brixaby grumbled something under his breath, but he settled down on Arthur’s shoulder, and his tail squeezed possessively around Arthur’s neck.
“Brix, let me breathe—”
Then, without warning, Arthur was wrapped in velvet darkness. But it wasn’t as if he were looking at a moonless night at midnight or being dropped in a torchless cave. There was a quality to this darkness, like there were shapes just out of reach—
And in the next moment, they stood on a wide balcony Arthur recognized as the entrance to Valentina’s dwelling. Due to the angle of the sun against the stony tip of the hive’s peak, this part of the balcony was in shadow.
New Counterfeit spell obtained: Shadow Transport
Time Remaining: 59 Minutes 59 Seconds
“Ohh, a transport power.” Brixaby had recovered before Arthur and eyed the other dragon with a bit more respect and a lot more greed. “That is quite useful. Tell me, are you in any other Legendary retinue?”
Arthur wanted to scold Brixaby, but he wondered the same thing.
Shadow just shrugged. “I’m not allowed.”
“Not allowed?” Brixaby asked. “Why no—”
He was interrupted by a loud call from within the room beyond. “Brixaby! Arthur! Stop wasting time and attend to my rider this moment!”
That voice came from Elissa, Valentina’s dragon. Arthur’s eyebrows rose, and he wondered how the giant of a dragon had fit herself in that room.
He turned back to Shadow. “Thank you for the transport.” He flipped a purple token to the dragon, who caught it out of the air and, by the puff of purple-black smoke, used his card’s power to transfer it to one of the saddlebags. Tokens like these worked as payment for the usual purple and blue couriers and their riders.
Basic food and shelter were guaranteed for all rider pairs, but those tokens and any card shards collected during scourge-eruptions could be traded for additional luxuries like better rooms and tastier food over and above the usual rations.
Though Shadow took the payment, he made no move to leave the balcony. Arthur exchanged a confused look with Brixaby as they walked into Valentina’s rooms.
One look inside told him that Valentina was having one of her bad days. Her blue-steel-colored dragon had squeezed in, it seemed, by force of personality and the destruction of much furniture. Though she was squished and puffing out unhappy clouds of fog, she was curled around Valentina, who sat in a chair, her knuckles white around the top of her cane. Valentina’s wrinkled face was unusually lined. Arthur suspected it was from pain.
There were potions and card-anchor spells to help with that sort of thing, but the one time he mentioned it, Valentina had sharply refused. She was afraid it would slow her in battle.
Because no matter what, if Legendary support was called in, she would be required to attend. Even if she was on death’s doorstep itself.
Despite her obvious discomfort, the old woman stared up at Arthur with a challenge in her eyes.
“So, I understand your class is officially available to attend the eruption. Feeling your oats, young man? Think you are ready?”
“We are,” Arthur said, though in reality, he had no idea. “Most of the class could have technically attended the one the day before last, but now all of the riders except Brix and the two purples can ride their dragons.”
“And you think that that is enough to protect you from the scourgelings? Oh, to be young and foolish again.” She snorted. “You are to be there for no more than two hours. Your dragons may be enthusiastic, but none of you have stamina yet. In fact, I’d send orders to hold you back . . . but this is going to be a bad one.”
“Why is that?” Arthur asked. Valentina complained a lot, but unlike Whitaker, she often dropped words of wisdom—and sometimes valuable information.
Whitaker simply piled paperwork on him—usually overdue forms that Whitaker should have taken care of himself, months ago.
“Because this eruption is right on the edge of Guardian City. Nowhere physically near our hive, thank my dragon’s card.” She reached with her cane to poke at Arthur’s chest. “You know why an eruption in a city is bad?”
“Other than the staggering cost of life?” he asked dryly.
Her eyes narrowed. “If I were looking for obvious answers, boy, I’d ask an Uncommon yellow!”
Arthur resisted the urge to sigh. The thought that a lot of people were about to die was enough to remind him that every moment counted. He cut to the chase. “Because scourgelings grow fastest when they feed on complex life, and especially magical life. An eruption in the middle of a field ready for harvest is much less dangerous than one in the middle of a town. The corruption brought by the scourge would destroy the harvest and sterilize the land, but there wouldn’t be many people . . . or if there were people, they’d probably be farmers without cards. That won’t be the case in a city. The scourgelings might consume enough pure magical power in the form of cards to raise a demi-scourgeling.”
Elissa spoke. “If that happens, you and that little dragon of yours must be prepared to fight.”
“I can fight,” Brixaby declared. “I can’t wait to face a demi-scourgeling.”
“Then you’re a fool,” Elissa said.
Brixaby hissed back, though it was under his breath. He would never say as much, but he was intimidated by the older Legendary.
Ignoring the byplay, Valentina nodded. “I’m glad you understand. Your main objective is to secure any large sources of cards and keep them away from the scourgelings. This is important, over and above rescuing civilians.”
Arthur’s breath caught.
Valentina must have noticed because she glared at him. “You understand why this is important.”
“I do,” he said.
She pressed the point. “Eating a single schoolyard filled with carded noble’s children is bad. Eating a card library may raise a demi-scourgeling that will wipe out the entire city—”
“I understand, Valentina.”
But privately, he thought he could still save a bunch of kids if it came to it. He would have a whole class of dragons behind him.
“Hmm.” She didn’t look like she fully believed him, but that was not his problem. Every moment of delay was one too many. “You are to take Shadow for this run. He’s already been told what I’ve told you.”
“What about his rider?” Arthur asked.
“Dead, so rest assured that this dragon knows the consequences of faffing around in a scourge-eruption.” The direct look she gave him said she guessed his motivations.
Arthur just calmly looked back. “Brix and I know our duty. We’ll act with integrity and honor.” Which to him meant putting people first, cards be damned.
A deep rumbly voice spoke up from behind them. It was Shadow, who had, living up to his namesake, crept up in the shadows. “Pretty words from someone who hasn’t flown a scourge-eruption before.”
Brixaby bristled. “What do you mean?”
“It means to watch your tail. Everyone knows you two are newer than springtime lambs out in the field. Anyone who’s hoping to get a Legendary card—or if the rumor is to be believed, two cards—they’re coming for you.”
Brixaby clenched his claws. “Then they’ll get a surprise.” He sounded like he was looking forward to it. “Meet us back down at the class, Rare.” Then he placed one of those claws on Arthur’s shoulder.
In the next moment, Arthur was enveloped by velvet darkness with the . . . things crawling out of reach, only to emerge a moment in orange Brooks’s long shadow. The class was still on the ground nearby, standing in formation and waiting for his return.
“Was that necessary?” Arthur asked his dragon.
“Only necessary until I copy the green dragon’s portal spell in a few minutes,” Brixaby said. His booming voice carried, and the rest of their classmates came to attention as they noticed they’d arrived. “Then we won’t need him at all.”
“We still will for me to fly.”
Brixaby ignored that.
Joy bounded up, her hide painfully pink in the bright sunlight. “Brix! Brix! I just got a quest to help you save a noble’s card library.” She wrinkled her nose. “But . . . I don’t understand. Are we saving cards or are we fighting scourgelings?”
Arthur answered for his dragon. “Both.”
Chapter Three
Arthur was very aware of the hive’s adult dragons streaming through the newly opened midair portals that led to the eruption. And that every moment he held his class here on the ground meant that many fewer dragons helping out.
It possibly meant that many more people being killed by scourgelings.
It also meant that good cards and shards were being lost.
Arthur’s first instinct might be to save, but for many dragon pairs . . . this was an opportunity to gain wealth. Those dragons and riders were glaring at him as if he were holding them there to keep them poor.
Or maybe it had to do with Willard and Morrice.
Ignoring them, Arthur put on a calm facade and waited, as if with infinite patience, for the class to organize on the ground in preparation for a double-diamond formation: one diamond on top of the other.
Cressida and Joy were to take Morrice’s old position at the head of the bottom diamond. It would allow Joy, who had no direct combat cards of her own, to be protected.
It would also allow her to lead the way.
As usual, Brixaby grumbled a little at that. He was the Legendary-ranked dragon here. He felt it was his duty to lead everything.
His grumbles quieted when Arthur pointed out that Cressida and Joy were part of Brixaby’s retinue. That meant, in a way, he was leading.
They also had a quest card, which had already hinted at what they were about to face.
Arthur had pulled Cressida aside and asked her about it as soon as he told the class to start forming up.
Cressida’s mouth pulled in an expression of distaste. “The quest said to locate Noble Woodmours’s personal card library and protect it at all costs. It has a nice reward, too,” she added with a sigh. “Ten Rare shards and one free attribute point.”
Arthur’s eyebrows rose. He hoped he and Brixaby would be able to get in on that quest. The Counterfeit Siphon card that linked them together had allowed them to join a quest or sometimes get one of their own when Joy or Cressida were actively holding a quest.
Sometimes it worked, sometimes they got nothing at all.
It was annoyingly random, but that was a meta card for you.
“Valentina told me to guard any card stashes from roving scourgelings,” Arthur said. “Your quest likely came from that. So why do you look like you’ve just been told to suck a rotten egg?”
Cressida glanced around to see if anyone was paying attention. Of course, they were. The two of them were the highest ranked in the class, having a private discussion. Everyone was watching and trying to look like they weren’t.
Noticing this, Cressida took a half step closer to him and lowered her voice. “I haven’t had personal dealings with the Woodmours, but from what I’ve heard from my family . . . they are not kind to their renters.”
His mood immediately darkened. “How so?”
“They were granted rich, arable land, but rumors say renters—the people who turn and toil the fields—regularly starve to death. That shouldn’t happen. Even my father, Lord Icehouse, ensures his tenants are fed, and our fields are frozen over for fully half the year.”
With some shame, Arthur realized he had never thought deeply of the plight of the Common folk outside of border villages where he’d grown up. Even the poorest in the inner kingdom had a leg up on people trapped at the border. After all, they could leave, and their land wasn’t actively trying to poison them.
Clearly, he had been wrong.
And he wasn’t too happy to hear the quest was nudging them to protect some rich jerk’s library.
But . . .
“There has to be a reason,” he said. “None of the card caches in the area can be allowed to fall to the scourgelings. So why this one?”
Cressida winced, and he knew she was thinking about the scholars’ library. “I don’t know. That’s all the quest said.”
“Come on, come on, come on, we’re all formed up! Hurry!” Joy called to them, literally dancing from foot to foot.
She was right. It was time.
Arthur clapped Cressida on the shoulder. “If you get anything else”—Like a better quest, he did not add—“or if his quest updates with more details, let me know.”
He glanced around and saw that Shadow was nearby. The Rare dragon had slunk in so quietly that neither Arthur nor Brixaby—who was buzzing around the still-grounded formation, making adjustments to ensure everyone was perfect—hadn’t noticed.
He went to Shadow, who gave him a nod and bent to allow Arthur to climb aboard. The dragon didn’t mention Brixaby’s little trick. Arthur suspected he was embarrassed about it.
With Instructor Agatha taking up a mirrored position in the back to watch for stragglers, and the two lone purples watching the rest of their class jealously, Arthur made the signal to take to the sky.
By this point, most of the adult dragons had already gone through. Their class joined a line of purples and blues with wolf heads emblazoned on their chest straps. These were teams of the Lobos, the rescue and evacuation group. Many of them were already on their second or third round bringing evacuees to the hive.
Not everyone saved could be brought to the hive, and not everyone brought was allowed to stay. But newly orphaned children, craftspeople who just lost their guild or workshop, nursing mothers, and people of means or with important political connections were usually always welcomed.
In return, the Lobos were given tokens by the hive. This was their pay and recompense for the fact they could not kill scourgelings and harvest them for shards and cards.
