Symbiotic: Chapter 33

Chapter 33

The chime of the System notification woke Sara before dawn, sharp and insistent in her mind.

[Alert: Unauthorized Challengers detected at Haven Valley perimeter.

Deploy Active Defenses? Y/N]

She sat bolt upright, heart already pounding. With a thought, her platemail shimmered into place, heavy but reassuring, and her Tetsubo and shield appeared in her hands. Tas materialized beside her, calm as ever, her glow steady in the dim light.

“Have they attacked?” Sara asked, voice low but firm.

“No,” Tas replied. “They are standing at the gate, awaiting entry.”

“What are they doing?”

“Waiting. Though one of them grows restless.”

“How many?”

“A party of four. One broad shouldered bearfolk armored in dented steel, greatsword strapped across her back. The second a female Ferretfolk wiry and watchful, longbow in hand. The third a Human man seems calm and steady, robes of white and green flowing around him, staff capped with a glowing crystal. And the last, I cannot tell species cloaked and silent, runes glowing faintly across their scaled hands. Perhaps a lizardfolk.”

Sara shook her head at the System prompt. “No Active Defenses. Not yet.”

“Your orders, Viscount Bloom?” Tas asked.

“Send me to the Watchtower, Tas. I want to observe them first before I let them see me.”

With a nod, Tas teleported her to the top of the Watchtower. From there, Sara looked down the ridge at the party, her Mind stats more than high enough to make out details with the increased benefit the Watchtower provided. The melee fighter paced, gesturing wildly, trying to convince the others to force their way in. The healer stood firm, staff planted, speaking calmly. The archer leaned against the gate, watching, while the caster remained silent, his eyes glowing faintly.

As she locked an additional 500 microbes to expand her Sporesight to 200 feet, her vision caught movement in the tall grass. A massive shape prowled low, visible to her because it allowed it, the unmistakable form of a Life Lion. Not Glory, but another, as it stared directly back at her, having no trouble spotting her in the tower. She reached out with her mind, and the connection snapped into place.

“I am Gentle Stalker who Pounces with Fury,” the lion’s voice rumbled in her thoughts. “The Pride has watched these two legs. They move and bellow like wounded oxen, and smell even worse. Yet they have not harmed the Lifewheat Fields in their travels. Be warned, Sara Bloom, friend of the Glorious Lion Who Roars at the Sun, these two-legs seek what is yours. This one is more than willing to kill and eat them for you if you do not desire their presence.”

Sara smiled faintly, only mildly wincing at how easily Gentle Stalker spoke of eliminating these humanoids. “Thank you, Gentle Stalker. Your watch is appreciated. But no. Do not kill them. Not yet.”

The lion’s mind receded, still watching, still waiting. Still eager to ‘assist’ with any necessary cleanup.

Taking advantage of the benefits of the Watchtower and her Mind stat of 225, Sara observes the 4 for a few minutes, targeting each of them with an Identify as she gets clear enough sight.

[System Identify: Challenger Party x4]

Name: Braska Ironhide

Race: Bearfolk

Base Class: Warrior

Level: 12

Notes: Heavy melee combatant. High Force, moderate Speed.

---

Name: Sylvi Quicktail

Race: Ferretfolk

Base Class: Ranger

Level: 10

Notes: Agile ranged attacker. High Mind and Speed.

---

Name: Dalen Marrow

Race: Human

Base Class: Healer

Level: 9

Notes: High Soul Self & Sum

---

Name: ??? (Unconfirmed)

Race: ??? (Species obscured by cloaking)

Base Class: ???

Level: 13

Notes: Rune magic identified

Sara, with a mental note to mark them all, but that unknown likely mage first, dismissed her shield and Tetsubo into inventory, ready to summon them at a moment’s need. Then, with a deep breath, she leapt from the tower, landing lightly on the valley side of the gate.

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The party stiffened as she approached, hands drifting toward weapons. Sara raised her chin, voice carrying with authority, but softened by the cadence of Elder Herman’s teachings.

“Greetings, Travelers,” she called in her best Herman impression, managing to keep the smile from her face, “You’ve come through the fields unscathed. Few do.”

The melee fighter stepped forward, sword half drawn. “We’re here for the Dungeon. The System said it opened. Let us through.”

The healer placed a hand on his arm, pulling him back. “Peace. We seek entry, yes, but not conflict. We ask permission from the Territory Owner. Is that you?”

The archer’s eyes narrowed, studying Sara’s armor, her calm stance. The hooded caster finally spoke, voice low and measured. “The System has stated the Dungeon is available. We would enter, if allowed.”

Sara’s gaze swept across them, Sporesight alive with threads of tension. She carefully placed Mark Target on each of the four, and was glad to see that none appeared to notice. The air was taut, every heartbeat a potential spark. Yet no blood had been spilled yet, and Sara would like to keep it that way if she could. But she would not put her people at risk.

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“You stand at Haven Valley’s gate,” she said firmly. “My name is Sara Bloom, and this land is mine to guard. The Dungeon lies within, but you are not given free pass to do what you will. These people are under MY protection. You will respect the Valley, its people, and its rules, or you will be removed… At best.”

The melee fighter bristled, but the healer’s grip held him steady.

The tension eased, just enough.

Sara waited, ready to summon her weapons if needed. But for now, words were her blade.

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Sara stiffened as the bearfolk’s eyes glowed faintly, the unmistakable sensation of Identify brushing against her Soul Self. She hadn’t expected to feel it, but her heightened awareness made the probing clear, like fingers pressing against the edges of her spirit.

The bearfolk’s sneer was immediate. “Level three? That’s all? You wear pretty armor, but you’re barely more than a cub. We could crush you and take what we want.”

The words hung heavy in the air. The archer shifted uneasily backwards to get range, the healer frowned, and the cloaked caster stood silent and unreadable.

Sara’s grip tightened on her shield, but her voice remained steady. The bearfolk meant what she said, but Sara only got the faintest quiver from [Danger Sense], and decided to set the tone early. Taking a moment to calculate, she thought to herself. "So if I assume a bearfolk might start with a little higher possible strength than a human, so maybe 25 as a max. Plus 5 per level if she put everything into strength alone, which for her sake I really hope she does not... Level 12. That's 60 points. So she could have as high as an 85 strength. Maybe a little higher if my starting stat guess is wrong, but no higher than 100. Compared to my equipped 285 PD. I should be fine."

Nodding, Sara made her decision. “Ok, unknown friends at my door. The way I see it, you have three choices.”

The party stilled, listening even as the bearfolk continued to sneer down at her.

“First: you can leave now, and not return. The Valley will remain closed to you.”

The bearfolk snorted, but Sara pressed on.

“Second: you can attack me here and now. If you do, I will activate the Valley’s defenses, and we will see who still stands when the dust clears.”

The archer’s hand twitched toward her bowstring, but the healer’s raised hand warded off any action.

Sara’s eyes locked on the bearfolk, her tone sharpening. “Third: you and I, my friend, will test each other. One strike each, no more. The healer will stand ready to mend us if needed. I will even allow you the first swing. If you win, you and your party are welcome into Haven Valley without restriction. If I win, you are still welcome, but under my rules. And you will be civil, or you will be shown the door.”

The bearfolk’s sneer widened, then was replaced by a glint of challenge. She shifted her greatsword from her back, the steel catching the morning light. “One strike is all I’ll need, Sara Bloom. You’ll regret offering me that.”

The healer stepped forward, staff raised. “I will oversee this. No killing. One strike each, as agreed.”

The archer muttered under her breath, obviously unhappy with the escalation, “This is madness,” but did not interfere. The caster remained silent, runes glowing faintly across scaled hands, watching with unreadable eyes.

Sara inhaled deeply, Sporesight flaring as threads of tension lit the air around her. Still not feeling any true risk from [Danger Sense] she dismissed her shield into inventory, keeping only her Tetsubo in hand. Her stance was calm, but her heart raced.

“Then let us see, my very large friend,” she said, voice carrying across the field as she raised her arms to accept her swing. “Who stands taller when the strikes lands.”

The bearfolk grinned and stepped forward, muscles coiling, greatsword rising. “Too late to run now, Sara Bloom. Stand and accept the consequences for your arrogance!”

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The bearfolk warrior stepped forward, greatsword gleaming in the morning light. Her sneer was sharp, her strength undeniable, her confidence absolute. With a grunt, she swung, the blade arcing down toward Sara’s chest.

Sara did not block. Instead, she calmly dismissed her Tetsubo back into inventory, standing with arms out of the way of the swing. The greatsword slammed into her breastplate with a resounding clang, and bounced harmlessly away. Sara didn’t even flinch.

The bearfolk froze mid motion, eyes widening.

Sara smiled, almost apologetic. “I really do have pretty armor, don't I? That’s unfair, isn’t it? What if I’m just a cub hiding in magic armor?”

To prove her point, she raised her hand and dismissed the armor as well. Her platemail shimmered and vanished, leaving her in simple tunic and pants, unarmored and exposed.

The healer’s eyes went wide. “Lady Bloom, no! This is reckless!”

Sara shook her head gently. “It’s fine. I will bear no grudge should your warrior injure me. Let her swing again. One way or another, let the point be made in one single swing, and not in unnecessary bloodshed.”

The bearfolk’s face flushed, embarrassment burning at being disregarded so easily turning to rage. She snarled, hefted her greatsword, and put her full force into the strike. The blade whistled through the air, crashing into Sara’s unarmored torso, only to rebound as though it had struck metal that was, if anything, even more resilient than the armor that had been atop it.

Sara stood unharmed, her 245 Physical Defense shrugging off the blow without effort.

The healer blinked, staff glowing faintly, but Sara raised her hand to stop him. “There is nothing to heal.”, she said, raising her tunic to show only the faintest long scratch, already beginning to heal.

She turned back to the bearfolk, her smile calm but firm. “Now, do you truly need me to take my turn? Must I verify my offense can keep up with my defense? Or can we consider the point made, and move on to being friendly and considerate to any village folk you meet in my Valley?”

Her eyes swept across the party, Sporesight alive and watching for any signs of attack. “After all… there’s no knowing who else in Haven Valley is more than their level would make them seem.”

The bearfolk lowered her sword, jaw tight, pride wounded but respect dawning as the healer exhaled in relief.

“Excellent!”, Sara said, ignoring the humored chuffing of a Life Lion in the stalks than only her heightened Mind would have heard. “Then how about introductions, my new friends. I am Sara Bloom, Viscount of Haven Valley and the Crystal Cavern Mines & Dungeon. Welcome to Haven Valley.”

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