He checked his status window:
[MP: 686/1420]
The numbers had improved dramatically. The Arcane Resonance boost plus overnight regeneration had restored a significant portion of his reserves.
"You're awake!" Pixie announced, bouncing over to his bedroll. "I was COUNTING how many times you breathed! It was A LOT!"
Ethan sat up, stretching without the groan he expected. "Thanks for the update, Pixie."
Buster lay near the tent entrance, watching the activity outside. "Town's been busy since dawn," he reported. "Rebuilding. Burning goblin bodies. The usual post-attack activities, I assume."
"How's Moose?" Ethan asked, noticing the guardian dog wasn't in the tent.
"Outside," Buster replied. "Checking the perimeter. He's moving well—whatever you did last night worked better than just the potion alone."
Ethan pulled himself to his feet, feeling stronger than he expected. His gaze fell on Amelia, who was watching him curiously from her blanket nest, blue eyes tracking his every move.
"How's she doing?" Ethan asked, moving to check on the wolf cub.
"Still not talking," Pixie reported. "But she seems DIFFERENT this morning. More... AWARE and maybe bigger. YES! DEFINITELY BIGGER."
As Ethan and Moose left the camp, Rolan’s warning about his rapid leveling still echoed in the back of his mind. The morning sun was climbing higher, and townspeople nodded respectfully as they passed. A few even offered short waves. One child whispered “hero” when they walked by, though his mother quickly hushed him.
“What now?” Moose asked through their bond.
Ethan patted the boar tusks in his pack. “Garrick mentioned a blacksmith named Lydia who might be able to trade these for something useful. After last night, I’m thinking we could use a proper weapon.”
They made their way through the market square, asking directions from a passing townsperson who pointed them toward the old forge at the far end.
The blacksmith's forge stood apart from other buildings—built entirely of stone with a high chimney belching black smoke. Heat hit them like a wall as they approached the open doorway.
Inside, Lydia worked at an anvil, methodically hammering a glowing horseshoe. She was a dwarf, shorter than Ethan but powerfully built, with muscular arms and a neatly braided beard adorned with metal clasps that clinked softly as she worked.
Ethan blinked, doing his best to keep his expression neutral. A female dwarf. With a beard. Okay then. Don't stare. Don't mention it. Definitely don't ask about it.
"Be with you in a moment," she called, finishing her work before turning to them. "You're the tamer everyone's talking about. What brings you to my forge?"
Ethan forced his gaze to stay firmly on her eyes. "I was told you might be able to make something useful from these." He removed the two massive boar tusks from his pack.
Lydia examined them with professional interest. "Quality material. What did you have in mind?"
"A sword," Ethan replied, still mentally repeating don’t mention the beard, don’t mention the beard. "Something I can rely on when things get complicated."
"I could forge a decent short sword using these for the core, wrapped in steel for durability," she said. "Nothing fancy, but well-balanced. Good for a beginner."
"Actually, I'm leaving with the caravan to Celdoras tomorrow morning," Ethan explained. "I wouldn't have time to wait for it to be made."
Lydia nodded, stroking her beard. "In that case, I could trade you for something already finished." She returned with a well-crafted short sword. "Good steel, balanced for someone your build. Not flashy, but it'll serve you well."
Lydia caught his gaze and arched an eyebrow. “You keep staring at my face, human. My cousin Thoryda’s the one with charisma in this family, not me. Unless you’re trying to flatter me into a discount.”
“What? No! I wasn’t—” Ethan sputtered.
“Mhm.” She smirked faintly, turning back to the tusks. “You look more like a man who needs steel than a man trying to court an Ironbeard. Best remember which cousin you’re dealing with.”
She named a trade value for the tusks and sword that seemed fair. They settled on the exchange, with Ethan tossing in a few copper pieces to cover the gap.
After securing the sword, Ethan hesitated. "I don't suppose you know anything about magic? I've heard blacksmiths sometimes work with enchanted metals."
Lydia raised an eyebrow. "Not in a village this size. I work steel and iron, not arcane energies. Though I heard you put on quite a show last night. Blue light healing your beast?"
Ethan tensed. "Word travels fast."
"Jana's my cousin's neighbor," Lydia said with a shrug. "Nothing stays secret in Virestead for long."
Ethan glanced at the sword. "You said this is worth more than the tusks. Why the trade?"
"My brother was on the eastern wall last night," Lydia replied. "Said he saw you and your beasts fighting alongside the guards when most folk were running for cover. We pay our debts in Virestead. Consider it the town's thanks."
Ethan nodded. "I appreciate it."
"When you reach Celdoras, find Magister Thorne at the Academy," Lydia added. "Tell him Lydia Ironbeard sent you. He owes me for fixing that enchanted battle-axe of his."
As they left the forge, Ethan felt oddly lighter despite the weight of the new sword at his hip. A name. A connection. A direction.
"I like her," Moose commented through their bond as they walked back through the market. "Practical. Direct."
"And generous," Ethan added, patting the sword. "This is worth more than those tusks."
Moose tilted his head curiously. "You seemed uncomfortable when we first entered. Your heart rate increased, and you kept staring at her face before quickly looking away."
"Oh, that," Ethan said, lowering his voice. "It's just... where I come from, women don't usually have beards like that."
Moose's confusion rippled through their bond. "Is that unusual? Some humans have beards, some don't. You're even starting to grow one now." He glanced at Ethan's stubbled chin. "I assumed it was simply a human variation, like coat color or ear shape."
Ethan chuckled. "You're not wrong. I guess it's just cultural differences between worlds. I've got a lot to unlearn."
"As do we all," Moose replied sagely. "Yesterday I learned that not all round objects should be chased. Pixie found that out when she rolled a prickly seed pod across camp. Then the seed pod fought back.”
They walked in comfortable silence for a few moments. Ethan's fingers traced the hilt of his new sword, his thoughts drifting back to the goblin attack. Images flashed through his mind—Moose bleeding, standing protectively over the woman and child despite his wounds, Buster charging into danger without hesitation, Pixie facing down goblins alone to protect Amelia.
"I almost lost you last night," Ethan said quietly, his hand moving to rest briefly on Moose's shoulder. "All of this—learning about beards and magic and platinum pieces—none of it matters if I can't keep you all safe."
Moose pressed against Ethan's side, a gesture of reassurance. "We protect each other. That is what pack means."
Ethan nodded, a new resolve hardening within him. He would learn to protect his pack, just as they protected him, as he patted his new sword where it was fastened on his belt in its sheath.
"Durgan said meals are included for anyone pulling their weight," he said as they walked, eyes scanning the late-afternoon market. "But I’m pretty sure he’s underestimating Buster’s definition of a serving size."
Moose huffed in agreement. "Most people do."
The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.
"We’ve got enough food for now," Ethan added, "but not five days’ worth. Let’s top off while we can."
They stopped at a smoked meat stand tucked between a fruit cart and a blackened kettle grill. Thin curls of smoke drifted from behind a canvas flap while strips of meat dried on a suspended rack.
Ethan picked out a solid mix of trail food—smoked meat, bread, dried fruit, and a small pouch of spice rub that smelled like cracked pepper and campfire.
He dropped a silver bit onto the counter and waved off the change. "Insurance," he muttered. "If Buster starts rationing the others’ food again, we’re gonna have a problem."
Moose’s eyes narrowed, amused. "He rationed mine last time. Ate his first, then declared I wasn’t finishing mine fast enough."
Ethan groaned. "Exactly."
When they returned to camp, Pixie was already preparing their belongings for the next day's departure, having arranged everyone's sleeping gear with meticulous—if somewhat chaotic—precision.
"Look what I ORGANIZED!" she announced proudly, bouncing around their packs. "Everything is READY and PERFECT!"
Buster, watching from beside Amelia, rolled his eyes. "She's been at this for hours. I think she repacked my blanket six times."
"Before we finish packing for tomorrow, we should properly check our stats," Ethan said, settling cross-legged on his bedroll. "That goblin fight earned us three level-ups, and Emmy four. We need to make sure we're optimizing everything."
"EMMY! I LIKE IT!" Pixie exclaimed, bouncing around Amelia with undisguised delight.
Ethan felt a sudden pang of homesickness. Emmy. That was what he'd called his sister. The nickname had slipped out without him even realizing it. For a moment, memories threatened to overwhelm him—family dinners, holiday laughter, her voice.
He swallowed hard and focused on the moment.
As Ethan opened his status window, new options shimmered into view.
[Special Ability Unlock – Level 5 Achieved]
Three choices blinked softly in front of him:
- Mana Sharing: Transfer a portion of your mana to companions
- Empathic Healing: Take on companions’ wounds to heal them faster
- Command Authority: All companions can use a skill simultaneously
"Wait—I've got to pick one of these?" Ethan said aloud, blinking.
“We all do,” Moose confirmed. “It seems Level 5 comes with choices.”
Ethan nodded. “Alright, let’s see what the system handed us.”
Moose’s list blinked into view first:
- Protective Barrier – Create a temporary shield around an ally
- Taunt – Force enemies to target you
- Steadfast – Resist knockback and fear effects
“Barrier,” Moose said, steady as ever. “I protect. That’s the role.”
Ethan smiled. “You’ve always been the wall.”
“Walls don’t fall,” Moose replied. “That’s the point.”
Pixie shrieked from across the camp. “Mine says: Flash Step! Disorienting Strike! Danger Sense! I pick Flash Step!”
She didn’t even wait for a discussion—just slammed her mental paw on the option and spun in place, tail whipping a bedroll off its spot.
“I am now lightning!” she howled. “I move like thought! I dodge regret!”
“She chose before you finished that sentence,” Buster said flatly.
“I’m not sure she read the description,” Ethan muttered.
“I don’t need to,” Pixie declared, gleeful. “I felt it.”
Buster scowled at his screen like it owed him money.
- Devastating Strike – Massive damage, long cooldown
- Intimidate – Cause enemies to hesitate
- Unstoppable Force – Become immune to slow effects
“Unstoppable Force,” he grumbled. “Fine. If something tries to trip me again, I’m going through it. And the floor under it.”
“That happened once,” Moose said mildly.
“Once. Too. Many.”
Ethan laughed, then turned to his own screen:
- Mana Sharing – Transfer a portion of your mana to companions
- Empathic Healing – Take on their wounds to heal them faster
- Command Authority – Force all companions to activate a skill at once
He hesitated—Command Authority sounded like it could swing a fight. Empathic Healing was brave, but dangerous.
“Mana Sharing,” Ethan said quietly. “I’ve got mana to spare… probably. And Arcane Resonance kicking in... might as well let you all use it too.”
[Ability Selected – Mana Sharing]
The bond pulsed—warm and subtle, like a soft current flowing outward from Ethan.
“You’re still recovering from mana sickness,” Buster growled, “and your big idea is to start sharing it?”
“It’s not like I’m dumping the whole pool,” Ethan said with a shrug.
“Yet,” Buster muttered. “You say that now.”
“It strengthens the Pack,” Moose said calmly.
“I FEEL SPARKLES IN MY BONES!” Pixie shouted, bright as ever.
“Great,” Buster said flatly. “She’s high on your mana already.”
Moose nodded. “A wise choice. The Pack grows stronger together.”
Pixie zipped around in a blur. “Flash Step chosen!” she declared. “I am now lightning!”
Amelia’s choices popped up in her status window, though she still couldn’t speak.
Ethan read them aloud gently:
- Shadow Meld – Hide in someone else’s shadow
- Cub Instincts – Dodge more effectively when injured
- Howl for Help – Send out a mental cry so the Pack can come running
He hesitated for a moment, studying her options before offering his thoughts. "If I were you, I'd probably pick one of those last two. You're still small, still healing from everything that's happened. But if you call for help, we'll come running—that's what pack means."
Amelia didn't respond with words, but her steady gaze never wavered from his face. There was something almost unsettling about her stillness, the way she seemed to be weighing his suggestion against some internal calculation he couldn't follow. Then he felt it through the bond—not words or images, but a faint pulse of emotion, a ripple of quiet certainty that told him she'd already made up her mind.
[Ability Selected – Shadow Meld]
Ethan blinked. “You picked it?”
Moose quietly said, “She did.”
Pixie whispered, “She picked the cool one.”
Ethan smiled, a mix of pride and surprise settling on his face. “Alright. Shadow Meld it is.”
As twilight fell, a quiet knock sounded outside the tent.
"Hello? Ethan Cross? Are you still awake?"
Ethan pushed aside the flap. Rolan stood there, holding a leather-bound book.
"I wanted to catch you before you leave with the caravan tomorrow," he said. "A going-away present, of sorts."
Ethan accepted it with surprise. The tome was old but sturdy, embossed with a sigil of a man surrounded by animals.
"It's a treatise on Bonded Companions and the Tamer class,” Rolan explained. “Not much call for it out here, but I thought you might find it useful.”
“I appreciate this,” Ethan said sincerely. “Thank you.”
“There’s a chapter on variant classes. Most of it’s theory, but… maybe it’ll help.” Rolan gave a half smile. “I still think you’re something rare.”
Ethan nodded, tucking the book away as Rolan disappeared into the night.
Later, as the Pack settled in, Ethan lay back and flipped through a few pages by firelight.
It confirmed what he already suspected: normal Tamers didn’t have this kind of communication with their companions. Or healing surges. Or mana resonance. The Mirror Link—whatever it really was—had changed everything.
And it was only the beginning.
He glanced around at the sleeping forms scattered throughout the tent—Pixie curled in a tight ball with her tail over her nose, Buster sprawled on his back like he owned half the floor, Moose lying sentinel-still near the entrance, and Amelia tucked close to his side. They weren't just bonded companions anymore, not in the way he'd imagined such relationships might work. This was something deeper, more fundamental—they were truly connected now, woven together by invisible threads of shared experience and mutual trust. They were a pack in every sense of the word, and more than that, they were his pack, his family in this strange new world.
[Status – Ethan Cross]
Class: Arcane Tamer – Variant
Level: 6
HP: 195/195
MP: 717/1420
Attributes:
STR – 8 → 22 (Mirrored from Buster)
DEX – 11 → 15 (Mirrored from Amelia)
AGI – 9 → 22 (Mirrored from Pixie)
CON – 11 → 19 (Mirrored from Moose)
INT – 24
WIS – 11 → 19 (Mirrored from Moose)
CHA – 11
LUK – 19
Skills:
– Pack Bond (Passive)
– Mirror Link (Active)
– Basic Directive (Active)
– Command Surge (Active)
– Pack Awareness (Passive)
– Mana Sharing (Active)
– Arcane Resonance (Passive)
– Translation (Passive)
Bonded Companions:
– Moose (Level 6)
– Buster (Level 6)
– Pixie (Level 6)
– Amelia (Level 5)
"Definitely the most exciting camping trip I’ve ever been on," he murmured to himself, smiling into the dark. "And I didn’t even bring the good coffee."
Sleep came easier than he expected.