Fuck Yes! My gamble about the [Squire] being a Combat class was correct! If the whole thing about it being a combat-oriented class meant the same thing. I read through the skill description; it seemed like the head-bludgeoning party I had in my dream translated into the skill. I had the distinct feeling that [Flow of Combat] was less a flashy skill and more a cornerstone of surviving life-or-death combat. Being able to get a feeling where my allies were was helpful to make sure you don't accidentally hit them, but most importantly, a feeling about where your 'Main Combatant' could be a lifesaver.
Even as I got dressed I continued in my musings about my new Skill. The leveling speed of Class Skills was already pretty slow, or they were in my opinion, but I wondered how much slower it was going to level. Also what would make or break the value of the skill was how powerful the 'feeling' described would be.
Soon I was downstairs; I noticed that some of the better-off patients were no longer confined to the makeshift cots. I gave a quick wave to Mrs. Gonzalez; I entered the Front yard, where a good half the yard was protected by chain link fences, and with some of the patients now ready to help and get a move on, it was great. I rushed over to the dining tent, which was pretty similar to that of yesterday. Unfortunately, there was no bacon. It was a true travesty, but Bacon was probably a valuable resource now worth more than gold to the right person(read: I find Bacon more valuable than Gold.)
After I finished breakfast I began a morning routine of sharpening the shovels, axes, pickaxes, and knives. It was a rather simple task now only taking me an hour to complete the lot. That once again allowed me to take over from Mr. Brown; the borrowed skill still felt off, but it was dead useful.
With the help of more workers, we managed to move the wrecks of the neighboring houses back. That allowed us to focus on digging the post holes, mixing concrete, and beginning to plan the reinforcement of the fence, which would happen tomorrow, the last day we would have until the Goblins started moving in too close for comfort.
Sooner than I would have liked, the sun reached the midpoint in the sky. Lunch was once again meat sandwiches with lemonade, and once again, cool lemonade was a good send in the summer heat.
Once lunch was finished, it was once back to building the fence; we had managed to get little less than a quarter more up since this morning, leaving only about a quarter of the perimeter unfenced. The whole Scouting Party decided to stay and help finish it.
Many hands do light work, as they say, and it was true in this instance as we finished the last bit faster than before, and by mid-afternoon, we had finished putting up the chain link fence. A few whoops went into the air as people met their contribution threshold.
We decided that the rest of the afternoon was to be a break. Soon, Mr. Brown and I were once practicing my baseball skills, and I definitely enjoyed this training more than the one I had in my dream. I managed to hit the ball almost every time now, and my follow, as Mr. Brown called it, was getting better.
...
Once nighttime struck once again, I and the adults, now also including those who had recently recovered, were up on the Third floor again.
"Alright, we have the Chain link fence completed; now we are going to watch the Goblin scouting parties closely to make sure they don't bum rush us if we least expect it," Mr. Johnson said.
"The Wall is fine and all, but from Jones's report, we're fucked if even if we built the Great Wall of China, does a single one of us have any combat experience except for a sixty plus year Old Man?" Mr. Akinyemi was a tall, broad-shoulder beast of a man; it was well known that the football coach had tried to recruit him in high school; however, Akinyemi turned him down every time. Instead of the football field, you'd find him reading or working at the local museum. He didn't curse very often, except a very memorable time when a Karen tried to correct a factoid wrongly and had gotten pissy about it too.
"Mr. Akinyemi, I have a combat. I just got it; it allows me to know where my ally and Enemies' current actions are," I said,d, trying to square my shoulders and appear more confident than I was.
"Great, just great, the only one with a combat skill is a Child; no offense, Mr. Noble. Do we have any other options besides a child soldier? Are you completely sure there is no ammunition? This is Kentucky, for Christ's sake!" He said, his voice rising as he was clearly not okay with our current predicament. Mr Johnson rose and put his hand reassuringly on the man's shoulder.
"If this is true, yes, our best option in straight-up combat will probably be Kien, depending on how helpful this new Skill is." he looked at me for confirmation, and all I could give him was a shrug as I hadn't tested it out yet. He continued onwards, his voice calm and cadence steady.
"Tomorrow morning, we will try and prepare Kien as much as possible—" he put a hand out signally that he wasn't done speaking as protests rose and died.
"I don't like it either and if his father was here he would rip me a new one, but all the scouting party has is tracking skills none of his bars Mr. Welton have been in a life-death scenario, however, we will not play even against these so-called [Goblin Warriors] we will ambush them this is our home and they are not welcome!" Mr Johnson said his fervor spread like a plague and began to beat in our hearts.
As we dispersed, Old Man Welton pulled me aside as I headed back to my room. His face bore the weight of his years; I could see sixty-plus years of decisions and life in the worn lines of his face, the smiles, the tears, the anger, and desperation.
"Ah, kiddo, just know you don't have to fight," he said, yet I heard a silent plea between his words; he didn't want me to fight.
"I remember, myself when I was younger marching off to some politician wack-jobs war I thought that war was honorable I thought that there was Casus belli a Justification for War, there is no such thing as War is death, misery, and every time you kill another human it rips a piece of you until there's nothing but a killing machine," he said trying to convey some deeper truth, I understood kind of not fully I don't think most people truly did understand the cost of war.
"Old Man, this isn't Vietnam and we're not fighting humans we're fighting monsters from somewhere else that have snatched up innocent men, women, and Children doing God knows what with them, I will fight them and I'll try my hardest to kill them and I will not go gently," I said, my conviction cementing itself progressively as Is spoke like a rising crescendo.
"I know it's not Vietnam!" He said, raising his voice for a moment before deflating, and he continued. "Listen, kiddo, I just don't want you to end up like me, okay?" He said, his eyes playing a tapestry of emotions, each thread a different memory or experience, and it wove together in his eyes. Reaching into his best pocket, he pulled out an old timepiece, its body made of silver, and lines of gold danced around its surface, creating an image of flowers. The System recognized it and a small window appeared above it.
...
[Persephone's Timepiece]
Rare-Unique Rank One Item
This pocket watch was made in the 17th-century pre-system for a prominent Patriarch of Nuremberg. This watch has since passed through many hands; it saw the fall of many great Empires and has been the forgotten timepiece of many great leaders, Warriors, painters, Bishops, and the like. It has been blessed in holy water, bathed in blood, and lost at sea. This Watch has been restored and empowered by an [Antiques Collector].
Effects: [Persephone's Greenthumb], [Patriarch Guidance], [Knight's Intuition], and +5% protection and damage against Unholy creatures.
...
The traits on this pocket watch were insane. [Persephone's Greenthumb] made nearby plants grow faster and had a .1% chance of imparting magical power onto them. [Patriarch's Guidance] gave an undefined boost to leadership and administration ability; most importantly, [Knight's Intuition] gave an intuitive understanding of when an enemy was about to give a death blow half a second before it happened.
"Are you sure you want to give me this? Even before the system, it was your baby, and now it literally gives you superpowers," I said, looking at him; he shook his head like I was the crazy one.
"No matter the item, nothing is equal to the value of your life I have kept this with me ever since I fished it out of the roots of a Mangrove tree, from a dead French Explorer so keep it safe and it will do the same, tomorrow I will train you as best as I can to be ready to fight I may hate myself for it but if it's one thing I know how to it's killing," he said the last part had an edge of steel in his voice. As he hung the most valuable Antique In his collection around my neck, he gave me a hug and set me on my way.
"Good Night, Kiddo" he whispered in my ear.
"Good Night, Old Man" I responded.
...
Before I went to bed, I continued my repairs on the [Flameborn Jacket]. The Inner lining was almost finished by the time I called quits, polishing the [Louisville Slugger(Copy)] and wiping down the clean and sharpened knives, I went to bed. That night I didn't have a dream just a blissful night of sleep.
I awoke to someone shaking me awake. At first, I thought something was wrong as the Sun wasn't even up yet. However, the lack of right emotions on my face calmed me right before I realized why else he would wake me before the crack of dawn.
"Get up, get up we've got one day to turn you into something beyond some punk kid with a baseball bat, now MOVE! The touchy-feely guy from last night was gone. In his place was a Veteran sergeant of the Vietnam War.
Breakfast was a quick but large fair for me as the Old Man said, "The hell I'm about to put you through; your body will be begging for each last calorie