“Total Monster Kills: 1022.”
After clearing the last few stragglers nearby, the tally froze on that number.
Seeing the two Level 1 adventurers on the other side dealing with the dozen-odd monsters left to them, Gauss didn’t cut in. Hitting the next stage—2,000 total kills—was still a ways off. His current target was “20 common species,” and none of the enemies they were fighting were new entries. Better leave them some sense of participation.
He looked farther out.
Iron Arm and the ogre were trading brutal blows, the ground trembling with every clash. Even so, the flow of battle was clear: Quake’s team had the upper hand. The ogre’s strengths were its ridiculous hide and meat—ordinary strikes barely nicked it—and its terrifying brute force: a solid hit from it could kill even a Level 2 or Level 3. But Iron Arm’s mobility far outclassed it, and the elite lieutenants that could have pinned targets for it were already dead. Only a milling ring of lesser minions remained—and they weren’t much help.
The ogre’s studded log-hammer slammed down again, blasting a deep crater and flinging dirt and gravel. It looked impressive, but it was little more than impotent rage—wasting energy.
Gauss exhaled and drew his gaze back. The outcome was decided. Looked like he wouldn’t need to prep a retreat after all; this ogre was within their handling range.
Alia rode up on Gray Wolf Ulfen and swung lightly to the ground. “Rest a bit?”
Neither of them moved up to “help.” They weren’t the same squad; butting in could do more harm than good—and it would break the terms they’d agreed on.
Gauss took the mana berry Alia handed him, wrapped it in a ring of frog jerky, and popped the bundle into his mouth. Sweet fruit, savory-salty jerky with that faint signature tingle—the combo landed just right.
Protein and fruit, no monotony. He wondered how Frost Snake meat would taste; if it checked out, he could process it into a new high-energy ration as well.
Resupplied, he turned to the two new Level 1 spells he’d just earned; he hadn’t had time to study them mid-fight. The spell models were already formed; by feeling into them he could read their functions clearly.
First, [Alarm]—an abjuration cantrip at Level 1. It isn’t about fighting; it’s support. Casting takes several minutes; once set, it establishes an 8-hour warded area.
If a threatening creature enters, the alarm triggers. You choose the mode at cast time: (1) mental alarm—only the caster senses a silent ping, nice and discreet; or (2) audible alarm—a piercing shriek that alerts everyone present.
It doesn’t swing a fight, but it’s very practical. Adventurers sleep rough; [Alarm] can stand in for a watch shift.
Even if you still rotate a lookout, having it running makes the watch easier. In short, the plain utility means fuller rest, less accumulated fatigue, and indirect help in later battles.
Second, [Burning Hands]—evocation, Level 1. It jets a fan of searing flame 5–6 meters in front of the caster. Paired with items, other spells, or terrain, it can deliver solid area damage against clustered foes.
Fire is especially good on furred beasts and plant creatures. This helps patch Gauss’s lack of true AoE; most of what he had were support magics or single-target strikes.
Even if [Magic Missile] can fire three bolts at once, it’s not the same as a real area spell. Not that Missile is “worse”—they simply excel at different jobs. [Burning Hands] can’t reach far and struggles to tag fast movers the way Missile does.
Still, it should be a training focus next. Even at Level 2 or Level 3 it keeps its place; many seasoned sorcerers favor it.
Gauss’s thoughts drifted. His “class core” felt unusually active lately. He’d planned to buy a few more Level 1 spells after winter hunt, bolster his kit, then push for Level 2.
But now the two rewarded spells were both excellent; maybe drilling them would be enough “experience” to tip him over? Once he hit 2, his mana quality would climb—a natural bump in potency even without special research. Check latest chapters at novel✶fire.net
Truly transformative jumps, though, still come from upcasting, and that has limits; it’ll never rival what a core skill does.
Core skills scale with your class—once you hit certain thresholds, they naturally step up a tier. For example, most mages at Level 3 see their core skill’s spell rise to Level 2 strength, easier and cheaper to cast than ordinary Level 2 spells.
While Gauss and Alia rested, the distant fight reached its end.
With a heavy crash, the ogre toppled for good, its massive body shredded by a storm of forcefield spikes.
“So the finisher was the sorceress?” Gauss arched a brow. He’d expected Quake to land the last hit. Thinking back, though—he’d been watching her methods and spells—she’d probably out-damaged the others overall.
Seemed she was the true core of that team. A squad’s leader and its strongest arm don’t have to be the same person. That said, that setup can carry the seed of command friction…
Thankfully, his own party won’t have that worry. For now, Gauss is recruiting support.