An average Pathbearer assault team numbers four. Four to magnify each other’s strengths and make up for each other’s weaknesses. Four, so that at least one of you has the skills to face every possible scenario that might be thrown against you, while the others act as support. There are no set Paths for the four, but there are archetypes that you need to embody if you wish for your team to experience maximum success.

At the head of each team should be something of a Frontliner. This individual does not need to be of the Vanguard Path, but they need to be high in Toughness, high in Physicality, and high in Reflexes if possible. They should be able to draw enemy attention and hold it, and they should cause immense destruction in their wake to penalize enemies that turn away from them.

Then you need a dedicated Caster. Usually, this is the team’s Jump Mage. It is not uncommon for a Jump Mage to double as the team’s overall mage, but it does not need to be that way. What matters the most, however, is that you have a Jump Mage, because spatial repositioning and rapid extractions are essential.

Thereafter, you need a Logistician, someone that’s capable of healing or providing active supplies on the battlefield. This can be a crafter, a Biomancer, anything of that regard. This is the most variable individual in the team. Some of you might call this the support. They go beyond that. They are the synergizer more than anyone else.

And finally, you need a Commander: a leader, a strategist for your team. They can be a Diviner, they can have a high Awareness skill, they can have something esoteric, but they must understand the nuances of the battlefield with a high Tactical or Strategic Skill, and they must guide the rest of the team for maximum effect.

With these four members, your team is mostly complete. Also understand that this is a recommendation, but you might most commonly see that there are effective teams made up of three members, or even duos that have achieved great things. Beyond this, there are also teams of four Frontliners that have served specific ends. However, these teams function in specific scenarios, so don’t expect them to be the norm.

The most important thing about teams, however, is that you understand what yours can do and what it can provide. By the end of your time at the academy, you should know your comrades better than you know yourself, and vice versa…

–The Paths of Ascension, Essential Reading at Phoenix Academy of The Yellowstone Republic

122 (I)

Minions [II]

Shiv hesitated much like Adam did earlier before entering Rose’s room. The reason for his hesitation was slightly different; he was scanning for orcs. So was Adam. The Gate Lord was on guard right outside, and he’d gathered a small group of Umbrals and two Weaveresses to serve as his mother’s personal guard after certain comments made by the orcs.

Mana strands connected both Adam and Shiv to Uva, who was currently on orc wrangling

duty.

Right now, the towering monsters were making small talk. Whisper was trying to discuss the nuances of Necromancy with Valor. From the sound of things, he knew more than a little about the lore of magic. Meanwhile, Can Hu and Mortar were glaring at each other, and somehow the orc was making a fight of the stare-down. Tequila, meanwhile, had lit up a large cigar and was listening to Band play his violin.

And I still don’t know the full extent of their capabilities, Shiv thought to himself. Whisper said they were mostly Master-Tier, but he could be lying. Shiv wouldn’t put it beyond the Challenger to dump a bunch of Heroic-Tier orcs on him who actively lied about being Master so they could enjoy killing him over and over. I’m gonna throw them into the nastiest fight I can later. I need to learn about them. Some things you can’t fake. Especially not in active combat.

So far, all the orcs had Magical Resistance. Wall’s Magical Resistance was the weakest, while Whisper’s seemed the strongest. Tequila seemed to have the highest Awareness, because he almost imperceptibly flinched with every loud noise, a bit like Adam did. Uva suspected Tequila’s Skill Evolution was more for hearing than it was for seeing, considering he only reacted that way to noise.

Mortar was a monster of Physicality and probably had a powerful artillery skill, which made him a ranged-heavy Pathbearer. Shiv wasn’t used to running into those. And then there was Band. Shiv had no idea what Band’s deal was. The Deathless knew about Pathbearer singers and performers, though they usually didn’t participate in combat. There were a few horn users that directed Umbral arm formations, but combat-oriented bards were a bit like combat-oriented chefs; cooking and music didn’t really convert to active combat all that well.

But he’s still here, Shiv thought to himself. He’s here, and I got a bad feeling about that one more than all the others, mainly because I can’t figure him out at all.

Despite this, Shiv did have a few outright advantages over the orcs. His Vitae allowed him to hurt them like no one else could. Well, maybe no one else but an accomplished Animancer. And there was his Chronomancy. So far, only Tequila had an answer for Shiv’s time magic, but the orc’s Chronomancy Skill was pretty weak compared to Shiv’s Strider. Part of Shiv’s paranoia made him consider whether Tequila was just holding back, but Shiv suspected not. Tequila couldn’t move at all when Shiv broke Wall over his knee.

Overall, they were dangerous, but they seemed manageable. Or so it seems.

Just another set of problems I need to deal with. Can’t let me have a dull moment, huh, System?

Shiv regarded four flickering beacons of vitality with a final look. He gazed at the orcs through other bodies and walls using his Vitaemancy, and Adam gave him a nod as well. “I’ll keep watch over them. And we’ll have my mother moved as soon as she is cleared.”

“Probably a good idea. But they already know she’s here,” Shiv said. “Maybe the best thing to do is just to kill them. But I think I’d prefer to spend them in active combat than here. Keep them constant in the field. Active. Close to me. That’s why they’re here, anyway. Because the Challenger’s got a crush on my ass.”

The Gate Lord’s expression flattened to one of exasperation. “Have you tried being less… you? It could help you avoid some of these problems.”

“How do I be less me, Adam?” Shiv shot back, annoyed. “And why do I have to be less me? Why can’t the other assholes take responsibility for themselves?”

“Because the System is desperate to break you, and not them?” Adam suggested.

“Yeah, well, the System can go lick a cesspit. Being me is the only way I got this far. I’ll get better. I’ll fix some of my flaws. But it’ll come up with another excuse to make us miserable. We’re not going to avoid any of this, Adam. The only way out is straight through. And straight through might just come in the form of us throwing an army of orcs at the felling Necrotechs.”

Adam’s shoulders were slumped with exhaustion. “I have no idea how to lead an army of orcs, Shiv.”

“Neither do I, but I think we’re going to need to figure that shit out if we want this to go well. It’s that, or Uva calls on the eldritch—”

“We will find a way to lead these orcs,” Adam spat immediately. Shiv could feel the Gate Lord’s heart rate spiking. He really didn’t like the Outsiders. And Shiv couldn’t really even blame him. The Recollector had been a nightmare and a half for Adam. Hells, the monster was a nightmare and a half for Shiv. “I’m gonna go talk to her now. Just call me if they do something… orc-like.”

“I suspect you’ll hear the screams before my voice ever reaches you,” Adam muttered.

“Yeah,” Shiv agreed as he walked into the room. “But if they hurt anyone, I’m going to break them. They know the score. Now, let’s see if they can keep themselves in check.”

Rose’s room was bright and wide, lit by a soft blue ambiance from a hanging nub of bioluminescence. There were eight beds stacked here, the mattresses made from dense clumps of weaver silk, the bedsheets white and pristine. The frames were of mixed alloys, and he realized that they were likely created using leftover scrap and other metals harvested from the ruins.

Taken from NovelBin, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

There were no windows here, which was a good thing, because he could very much see an orc finding a way to squeeze himself through a tight, tiny crevice, just to hurt a traumatized, defenseless woman. Said traumatized woman was currently sitting up in her bed. She had a gray colored hospital gown on, and was currently sipping from a steaming-hot cup of water. She regarded Shiv with pale-green eyes.

He stood before her a giant—the basilisk venom still buzzing hot inside him. Shiv had a layer of bone armor over himself now. It took merging sets of bone armor to create something he could wear right now, and when the venom wore off, he would need to adjust it again. The only thing he didn’t have on was a helmet. He considered wearing one to spare her the sight of his face and the ugly memory of his father. Considering she was the one that asked to see him, though, he suspected this wasn’t going to be a gentle conversation.

Seconds passed as he stared straight into her eyes. The atmosphere was uncomfortable, but discomfort could go slit its own throat. Shiv wasn’t going to let pain dictate his actions, inside or out. Rose, however, wasn’t nearly as iron of will. She looked away, flinching. As she swallowed her water and discomfort, she ran a hand through her crimson hair. “Fuck’s sake. You look just like both of them.”

“Yeah. That tends to be the case when someone gives birth to you. Genetics and all that.”

Rose scoffed. “You even sound like—well, more like Vera than Harlon. He complained. There was never an end to his bitching. But she snarled at people. Didn’t curse so much, but she was pretty good at making you feel like garbage. I guess that was one of the reasons I liked her at first. Because she spoke like how I wanted to speak.”

“And what happened after?”

“Well, after I stopped pretending to be the perfect City Lord’s daughter and started telling people to go fuck themselves myself, I realized that Vera was just kind of a bitch. But by that point, she was my bitch. So. Yeah. We ended up more like family, just as I realized I would have hated having her as a friend.”

Shiv grunted. “Didn’t last.”

“No,” Rose said. She wasn’t looking at him anymore. Not directly. Her eyes were staring off into the far wall. Or maybe somewhere else. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you save me? Why did you help me?”

Strange question. Shiv thought about it for a moment. “Because I could. Because you were trapped and didn’t want to be inside me. Because I thought it would be good for Adam to have his mother back after all this bullshit. If you are his mother.”

And that made her aim a glare at him. “If?”

“Listen, lady, I dragged you out from inside my felling soul-vitality mixture after a Skill Evolution I don’t understand, using magic I barely know how to use. You could be anything. I think you’re Rose Van Erren just from all the shit that you remember and what the Educator said, but by this point, I’ve run into so much weird shit I’m not sure about anything.”

The harshness in her gaze lingered for a while longer, and then she shook her head and looked away. “I don’t know either. I don’t… I remember almost everything. But there are pieces of my memories that are gone. Not just from right before my death, but from my early childhood. My time in the Abyss resembles a kaleidoscopic maze of madness. But my butchering and death are clear and constant. So. Thanks for that, and go fuck yourself, System .”

Rose’s casual willingness to curse was making Adam poke his head into the room. He was staring daggers at Shiv.

“What?” Shiv said mentally.

“What did you say to her?”

“You’re right outside, asshole. You heard everything I told her. I’m not the reason she’s talking like a teenage chef who just learned his first slur.” Adam’s stare turned to one of confusion. “I’m comparing her to me at fifteen. It’s a miracle that I don’t use fuck, cunt, shit, piss, felling, or any number of other words that Georges loves so much in literally every single sentence.”

“Why did Roland keep you alive?” Rose suddenly asked.

Her question caught Shiv like a kick to the gut, and he shuffled uncomfortably. “The actual reason or the lie he likes to tell himself?”

“Both?” Rose replied.

“Well, in actuality, he’s a traumatized chickenshit who couldn’t make up his mind because killing me was too uncomfortable of a thought—”

“Shiv!” Adam snarled.

Shiv continued. He wasn’t sorry. “Personally, he’s probably doing the whole ‘the Omenborn’s too dangerous to be let go. I must keep him contained here’ shit. Why? Would you have preferred if he finished me off for good? Is that it? Would that make this easier?”

The Deathless’s casual willingness to push into rough territory made Rose clench her teeth and look down.

A flood of anger poured from Adam. “Shiv. What the felling shit are you doing?”

But his rage slammed into Shiv’s, and the Deathless turned to glare at him. “Talking. If she didn’t want us to go there, then she shouldn’t bring it up.”

“My mother is—”

“Yeah. Traumatized. Hurt. Hates me for being the offspring of the people that killed her and sacrificed her unborn daughter. We can turn away from it, or we can deal with it right here. You want to argue with me over this? Fine. But I’m not going around this shit now she’s brought us to this point.”

Adam stepped into the room then, his teeth bared in a snarl. “You are absolutely incapable of not being a bastard sometimes, aren’t you?” He wasn’t even using mental communication anymore.

Shiv just sneered. “How else do you think this was going to go? What kind of peace do you think I can offer? She asked to talk to me. Well. This is the talk.” He turned and stared at Rose. “What do you want from me? An apology? A declaration of self-hate? To spit your misery at me? Fine. Let’s do it. Let’s do this shit because there are other things I have to deal with. I don’t hate myself. I’m glad I was born. Yes, I feel like shit that you and your daughter got butchered by my parents. Fuck them for that. But also fuck Roland Arrow and most of Blackedge for what followed. They could have gotten rid of me. Sent me off in exile or something. Hid my identity and had me monitored. Something other than just using me as some kind of hate puppet.”

By the end, Shiv was growling out his words. The bitterness was back in him. But this time, he noticed—his Psychology Skill activated. Talking about this—thinking about this made him angry and feel like shit. But just because he felt like shit didn’t mean he had to react to it. It’s like pain. But this isn’t arithmetic. It’s like calculus. I don’t know how to do calculus. Shit.

Shiv drew a deep breath through his nostrils and threw up his hands. Nothing for it. Confront the problem head-on. Take the hurt and beat it down, just like with any enemy.

“I don’t know what you want to hear from me, Rose. I don’t know what I can give you for your pain or loss. I’ll tell you what I told Adam before: If I could have done something to spare you or your daughter, I would have. But not at the expense of my own existence. I’m responsible for you, for Adam. Hells, even for Roland and Blackedge. But I’m not sorry. And if that’s not enough, then I don’t have enough regret to give you. Because it doesn’t exist.”

Silver Tongue 24 > 25

Psychology 8 > 10

Both Rose and Adam were silent. The Gate Lord was shaking slightly, but he seemed less pissed than a moment before. Rose’s lip was curled, but she was holding herself. Alright. That’s the ugliest part. Maybe… maybe a bit less brute force now? Could that help? I’ll just tell them how I actually feel and what I think we should do, I guess.

“Look. I’m sorry for going into this rough. I don’t really know any other way.” He looked at Adam first. “I don’t want to be a bastard, but it just—I don’t know what else to say, and this thing fucking pisses me off too, alright? You think about losing your mother, losing your sister. I’d never fault you for that. I think about being hated, getting beaten half to death in front of a church with no one caring, and eating rats in an alley. I’m not strong enough to be noble about this. Not yet.”

Adam’s gaze softened, and he looked away.

Shiv pressed on. “I’ll cook for both of you later or something if that’ll make it better. It’s the only thing I know how to do beyond killing. It’s basically the only thing I can really offer. I can’t undo anything that you suffered. Either of you. I’m sorry about that. But if this is the topic, we’re all going to get hurt. There’s no way out.”

Adam bit his lip and let out a quiet breath. He looked at Shiv again, and something about his gaze made the Deathless feel like a complete piece of shit. “Just be gentler. I know—No, I don’t know. We had this talk before, I just turned from it. I ran from it. It’s not all your fault. It’s some of mine. I used to think that justice was seeing you hurt and hollow on the streets of Blackedge, that the System had some kind of sense of honor, perverted and sick though it was. But I was just trying to use my hate to feed my grief. It didn’t work. My father, he—he should have done something else. We should have done something else. But—you don’t know what it’s like, waking up from a nightmare as a child, but then walking away as quietly as you can from the crack of your father’s bedroom door as he sobs into your mother’s old clothes.”

“I don’t,” Shiv said. He looked back at Rose and realized she was silently crying too. “But maybe Roland will get to see the real deal again instead. That’s the best I can do as an apology.”

Adam looked up at him and gave him a nod. “I’m sorry for calling you a bastard.”

Shiv managed a slight smirk. “I am a bastard sometimes. I should’ve kept my bitterness in check and had my shit together. She didn’t deserve any of that. I think we should give this topic—and her—more time. It’s too much, too fast.”

“Right,” Adam said.

Shiv turned to leave the room, but Rose called out to him. “Wait.” He paused and looked back at her. “I… Whatever else is between us, know that I, Rose Van Erren, daughter of Errol Van Erren and Alicia the Least, am in your debt as a noblewoman and Pathbearer. You have returned to me my life. And another chance to be with my family. My son. My love. I don’t—what your parents did to me—I need time. But I don’t just hold hate for you. Not after what you have done. You’re a Pathbearer of honor, holding to your word, freeing me without hesitation. And that makes you more than them to me already. Whatever my gratitude is worth.”

Something lifted inside Shiv. A rock formed in his throat as well, so he just nodded. “It’s worth enough. More than enough.”

He walked out of the room.

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