Chapter 127: Acolyte

Emerius walked over to the logs he dropped and slowly picked them back up, stacking each one on top of the other. Once his arms were full, he returned to the camp and layered them beside the fire pit. "The others should be back soon." Charon grunted in response, still grappling with all of the recent revelations. ’So I’m an Acolyte now?’ He didn’t feel very different. If not for Emerius mentioning anything, he would have thought it was something else that had caused his dream. ’But it wasn’t, I’m an Acolyte.’ Glancing up, he saw Emerius sit on a dirt mound opposite him and draw one of his swords, before laying it across his lap. He then reached into his robe and withdrew a dark rock before slowly running it along the blade’s edge, each swipe causing a soft ring. "So why is it so weird that I gained so many ranks?" Emerius looked up while continuing his stroke, his expression warm, albeit tinged with tiredness. "The amount was excessive, as I saw no cause for it to occur. To justify such a leap, you would have to have achieved something great. Slaying the cultist would have been impressive, make no mistake, yet he was not powerful enough to warrant the increase outside secondary circumstances." Charon rolled his hand around his wrist, his chin lowered as if to say, "And?" Emerius sighed and continued. "If you had a soul grudge against the cultist, or perhaps your god had commanded you to kill him, then you would have earned the burst of essence. As it stands, I am unaware of either being in effect, leaving the cause a mystery." The explanation made Charon look down at his legs and think. ’Did I have any outstanding commitments like that? I certainly don’t remember creating any grudges, nor has Death spoken to me, so what gives?’ He reflected on the fight, specifically how he felt during it. The moment the machines appeared, he knew he hated them for a really good reason, but whatever that reason was, he couldn’t remember. ’Was it for the visions in the mist?’ That would make sense. He had seen Alastor’s summons wreak untold destruction and mayhem upon innocent populations, but that didn’t feel right, almost like that was a part of the whole, rather than the whole itself. ’Then what was it?’ Nothing else stood out. As far as he knew, he just hated them. It wasn’t complex or built on a millennia-old conflict like with the Elves. They were just wrong, a blight for him to expunge by any means necessary. A beautiful creation turned to chaos. Emerius nudged his knee, jarring him from his thoughts. Looking at his friend, he saw a soft smile on his face as he slowly drew the whetstone across his blade once more. "Do not fret about it too much, Charon. The truth will be revealed in time. For now, you should celebrate. You reached a rank that takes more new mages months, if not years, to see." The compliment made him grin. "I suppose you’re right. You aren’t far from Acolyte yourself, right?" Emerius nodded. "I am Novice Eight. I anticipate my own ascension within a month." Charon liked the sound of that. It meant they would both be stronger and have a higher chance of winning the war against the Claytons and returning home, only to win the larger war with the Elves. "What does Acolyte change, anyway? I didn’t even know it was a thing until recently." Emerius scoffed, but it didn’t sound condescending. Rather, it was like he wasn’t expecting to have to explain so much that day. "Acolyte is not a very flashy upgrade, although its effects will be felt forever. It is at this point that you begin to gain resistance to anything mundane. You will be hurt less by technology, you will find your skin is stronger to punctures and stabs, and you will become sick very rarely. All of your normal defenses have become stronger." Charon’s eyes widened as he glanced at his own two hands. He turned them over to study each side, as if in disbelief over the thought of them being stronger. ’They don’t look any different. Can I really get hurt more and be fine?’ Emerius snapped his finger, drawing his eyes upwards, before continuing to sharpen his sword. "I know that look. Just because you are an Acolyte does not mean you can rush into danger without fear. The benefits are noticeable, but not enough to make you invincible." He nodded energetically, while still thinking about how to test the limits of his new durability. Emerius rolled his eyes. "Another benefit to your rank is that you will both gain and store mana at an increased rate. Normally, it is five times that of a Novice, allowing you to be far more impactful on the battlefield. This can take some getting used to. The sudden influx of potential catches most mages off balance." Charon smiled and continued to nod, but barely cared about that perk. He had yet to run out of mana as it stood, his summons seeming to take very little, even with how many he supposedly had. ’For most summoners, that has to be a very useful upgrade, but for me? It’s nothing compared to the defense.’ "What about my current spells? Will they be stronger?" Emerius flashed him a wry grin, his whetstone disappearing into the folds of his robe as he sheathed his sword and stood in the same motion. "That depends." Doing his best to stand as well, Charon slowly rose, his arms spread out to help him keep his balance. His headache was fading, yet his muscles still felt sore. ’Probably because they haven’t moved in days!’ "Depends on what?" "The person. Every rank up provides a substantial reward, with the primary difference being how that manifests. For some, this is a new spell, for others, an artifact." He stepped towards the fire and leaned down, flipping over the backpack’s flap and reaching inside. He pulled out a small bundle of dried meat covered in a spice. Stripping a piece off, he extended the rest to Charon before eating his own. Taking the offered food, he sniffed at it, turning his head away as the strong scent of pepper and something nutty filled his nose. It wasn’t a bad smell, just strong, causing him to gag before mirroring his friend and stripping a piece off. He gingerly nibbled the edge before his eyes widened in bliss. It took him less than a minute to wolf down the entire stack. Emerius watched it all with an entertained smirk. "The ascension process is very intense and leaves you quite famished. According to my father, the hungrier you are after the process, the more powerful you have become. For mine, I pray you care to leave me enough food to feed a village." Charon was barely able to acknowledge his words as he stumbled forward and found the pack, yanking it open and beginning to dig around for more food. He found some in the form of fruit, and even some cheese, which he ate in record time. ’Was I like this when I woke up? I didn’t feel very hungry, but right now... I could eat a feast! No, two feasts! Three, even!’ Emerius whistled, drawing his attention. One of his eyebrows was raised in amusement as he pointed to the other side of the fire pit, a place Charon couldn’t see. Crawling around the side, he paused, eyes wide, as he saw a large pile of rations. Most looked recently foraged, from wild berries, to fruits, and even some meats. "We expected you to have quite the appetite and have been stockpiling. Once the others return, there should be more where that came from. Just be careful not to gorge yourself too fast." His warning fell on deaf ears as Charon launched himself into a feeding frenzy unlike anything he had seen before.