I stood there for a few moments, surprise stealing my voice. The Shepherd stood opposite, excited grin splitting his aged face and keen eyes fixed on me. Watching. Waiting.

"Fuck!" I swore, and then I was off.

My spear pumped in my right hand, my shield gripped in my left. Howls echoed through the forest of stone spires, and I veered towards the closest. Part of me was frantically trying to concoct a plan. Jorge had said I could expect at least fifty of the skeletal bastards, and that was far too many to face at once. Even three would be a tight call. Instincts clamoured at me, urging me to take out as many as possible before I could be surrounded, and then lead the remainder on a merry chase through the plateau.

The other part of me though? It was grinning. A vicious and hungry expression from deep within my soul. A wolf's grin. Jorge thought I could do it – he wouldn't set me a task I would fail at; I was confident of that much. And if that was true? How many levels could I gain by slaughtering half a phalanx of the shambling creatures? How powerful could I grow? More importantly, that spear-Skill would be within reach.

The words Jorge had said swirled in my mind. Both of us were forgotten to history. It resonated, and as I rounded a spire and caught sight of the ill-proportioned enemy scurrying my way with blade in hand, I committed.

The 'Unknown', as the system had dubbed them, screeched once more and threw itself at me, dagger in skeletal hand. I skidded to a stop and set my feet, willing my body into the first stance of the Hasta's spear-form. The poorly balanced dagger glanced off my shield at an angle, and while my instincts screamed at me to dive forwards and pit my strength against the creature in a rolling mashing of steel and bone, I held back.

I waited a hair, letting the creature overbalance and slip past with the deflected strike, and then pivoted as Jorge had shown me, moving into the second stance. My shield shadowed the creature as it stumbled past, and my spear whipped around, propelled with the force of the spin to crack into my opponent's head like a baton.

While my footwork may have been shaky, and the movement far from smooth, the power of the blow was unmistakable. It knocked the skeleton to the ground, and it was trivial to slam my shield rim into its exposed spine, snapping it off at the neck.

You have killed an Unknown (level 26). Experience gained.

You have reached level 28. Attributes available for allocation.

"That's it, lad!" I heard Jorge shout from somewhere high above, and I turned to spy him perched like a mad grinning gargoyle atop one of the spires nearby. Before I could respond, he gestured behind me and shouted, "heads up."

I spun in time to see two more skeletons come scarpering from behind a pillar. Both had uneven proportions, and I raced towards them, keen to meet the charge. I may have found partial success with the new techniques while facing a single, relatively slow opponent, but that didn't mean I was confident in all situations.

I sprung off the pillar to my right as we closed on one another, using a jutting lip of stone to propel myself several feet in the air and jab down with my spear at the first skeleton. My strike broke a rib on the way through and left it pinned to the ground as the spear tip lodged in the dirt. I landed and spun, avoiding a rusty axe singing through air, and tackled the second skeleton to the ground. It tried to stab down at me from above, but my strength was a match for its own, and we rolled over once. Twice. And then I slammed its small skull into the dirt with enough force to crater the earth below and smash the yellowed bone apart.

My shield made short work of the first skeleton when I returned to it, and soon enough the system was ringing its acknowledgement of my victory.

You have killed an Unknown (level 22). Experience gained.

You have killed an Unknown (level 24). Experience gained.

There was no more commentary from Jorge after that, but over the next half an hour I saw him flitting from spire to spire, shadowing me like a phantom from above. His presence was appreciated, but I soon lost myself in the chaos. The chase, the fighting, the overwhelming numbers forcing me to flee through a land of red dirt and grey stone before ambushing my pursuers and the whole dance starting over again once more.

I wasn't some sort of genius savant, and the techniques were executed with nothing close to perfection, but as time went on, I began to slip more into the style of fighting encouraged by the forms Jorge had taught me. Rather than pounce on a creature to end the fight when I had an opening, I'd find myself moving smoothly to the next movement, allowing me to damage the creature with my spear while still at range.

I used the flowing and somewhat graceful patterns of movement from the spear-dance to manoeuvre through and around my enemies, while keeping my shield in position to deflect and divert attacks. The wild side that had flourished during my lone journey through the endless valley wasn't left idle though. I still made use of the explosivity it encouraged.

I would trust my instincts for who, when and where I should strike, but I began to let the rehearsed movements take care of the 'how'. In this way, I melded the aggression and pace of my new instincts with the steady, reactive nature of the fighting style I'd been taught. As I fought and killed creatures from beyond comprehension – literally, since the system had no name for them – I slowly started to build towards something.

I felt the connection between me and this ancient martial art begin to emerge. It was all that remained of a lost people, forgotten to time. And more than probably anyone else alive, I knew what it was like to be forgotten. I'd been lost to everyone I'd ever known and loved, but that was doubtless true of others who had faced tragedy I could only dream of. Where I was unique though, was that I was lost to myself, as well.

I had forgotten who I was. Just like the Hasta, my own past was a mystery, the man standing and fighting right now was all that remained of what had once been. Just as the stances I moved through were the only part of the Hasta's legacy that could be called real, so was Lamb all that was real about me. I had no name but that one, now.

Lamb. A helpless creature, pitiful and in need of the aid of others. Without knowledge or experience, or weapons of its own. No teeth or claws. No horns nor scales to hide behind. Just a spear and a shield, and memories that were lost to time.

I drove the blunted and notched tip of my spear through the leering skull before me, and it punched through the back to stand bare against the wind. The animating light faded from the skeleton's eyes, and bones crumbled to the ground, leaving a grinning skull suspended on the end of my outstretched spear.

It was the third spear I'd found, my other two snapped and chipped beyond use, or discarded in a moment of distress. The battered shield on my left side was the second iteration as well, a flanged mace having buckled the top half of my first one a dozen fights past.

I let my breath plume in the air before me, raising my eyes to the heavens as a gentle rain tickled my face. I laughed, feeling water begin to bead on my forehead and wash away the grime of half a hundred life-or-death struggles.

The system provided a ringing backing track to the desolate landscape, and I let the noise swirl around my mind for a few moments before acknowledging the prompts.

You have killed an Unknown (level 26). Experience gained.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

….

You have killed an Unknown (level 32). Experience gained.

You have reached level 30. Attributes available for allocation

Skill gained – The Forgotten Spear. Open Skill slots available, Skill integrated.

The Forgotten Spear – An ancient technique. Draw on the knowledge of a lost people to aid you in battle. Let memories lost to time's relentless march forward guide your arm, and use that most ancient of weapons that has been wielded by humanity since the dawn of time; the spear. Pair the range and versatility of the spear with the steadfast protection of the shield, and fight your enemies on whatever battlefield you choose as a skirmisher of legend.

Overly flowery, not very detailed, and ultimately not a very useful description. But the Skill itself was everything I needed. It settled into my soul, and I felt the gentle caress of instincts not my own prompting me. My grip changed subtly on the haft of my spear, and the shield abruptly felt more familiar on my arm.

It felt good to have a full complement of Skills once more. My soul felt pleasingly full, the constellations of starlight orbiting one another in peace now that balance was restored. I marvelled in the feeling for a few more moments before turning my attention back to the notifications. Temporarily distracted by the new Skill, I had missed the list of Skill level-ups I'd received while fighting, and hurriedly checked them.

Skill Check-Step has increased in level. Check-Step – level 9.

Skill Hillfolk has increased in level. Hillfolk - 5.

Skill Indomitable Prey has increased in level. Indomitable Prey – level 7.

Skill Cloven-Hooved has increased in level. Cloven-Hooved – level 6.

As it turned out, half an hour of wanton slaughter and death-defying training was good for levels and Skills both. Who knew? I then invested the four levels worth of attributes I'd gained. Two from the day prior with Nathlan, and two more from the fighting today.

I placed a plurality into strength, with a little into agility to keep it from lagging behind too far, then pumped up endurance a bit, as well. I had a feeling I'd be needing it considering the last half an hour. Constant fighting was impossibly tiring, and I decided then and there that I would need to train specifically for it - no more relying on distance running and long marches to keep me fit. A little artificial magical enhancement couldn't hurt though.

I then put a little into perception and a larger portion into cognition, as there were a few moments during the fighting where I struggled to keep track of all the variables I had noticed when fighting multiple opponents.

My status was now more impressive than ever.

Status:

Ancestry: Human (unevolved)

Level: 30

Class: Blood Of The Hills

Titles: God-touched

Attribute allocation:

Strength: 40

Agility: 30

Endurance: 25

Perception: 17

Cognition: 20

Available attributes: 0

Current Skills:

Guerrilla Warfare: Level 8. Passive.

Wilderness Endurance Hunter: Level 5. Passive.

Cloven-Hooved: Level 6. Passive.

Heart of the Hills: Level 4. Active.

Check Step: Level 9. Active.

Hill-Folk: Level 5. Passive.

Indomitable Prey: Level 7. Active

The Forgotten Spear: Level 1. Passive

What was even better than my status though was the sublime feeling of ecstasy that rushed through me as the attributes I'd assigned did their work. I had never invested so many at a time before, and my knees grew weak as my body was reforged by the system's power. I felt stronger, lighter, faster and more ponderous all at once. Like I could glide across the surface of a pond without leaving a single ripple, and smash through a brick building simply by leaning against it.

Neither were true, and both were contradictory, but that was the essence of the feelings I experienced. They didn't need to be bound by reality, taking place solely within my nervous system and mind as they were. In summary, it felt pretty fucking great.

I raised my head to watch Jorge slip from the top of a forty-foot-high spire, and land in a gentle crouch on the red surface. Tiny dust clouds were released with each slap of fat raindrops against the earth, but when Jorge straightened, his groan drowned out whatever noise nature provided.

"You can't seriously expect me to believe that hurt your knees," I said, exasperated and a little giddy from the recent euphoria.

The old man just shrugged, offering me a lopsided grin. "Aye, lad. I understand a whippersnapper such as yourself can't possibly understand the way of things for us old hands, but one day far sooner than you expect, you'll be waking up in the middle of the night to relive your–"

"Alright, alright," I laughed, waving him off and walking over. "You saw the end?" I asked.

"Aye," he confirmed. "I assume you got yourself that Skill? Either that or you suddenly decided to open your head and listen to everything I've been advising you during our spars."

"Hmm, which could it be, I wonder?" I asked with an impish smile as we started walking back towards the edge of the plateau where we'd left Nathlan and Vera a few hours ago.

"I know which I find more likely," he replied. "Now, spill."

I did as he asked, and we discussed my new Skill as we strode through the broken spires that ringed the dreaded chasm towards our friends.

Nathlan was near as chipper as me when we joined up with them. He'd bagged himself a few levels just like I had, and given he was new to having a combat class – acquired literally yesterday – he was still glorying in the sudden attribute growth. He wasn't quite at my level yet, somewhere in the low twenties if I had to guess based on the feel of his aura, but that was an ability I was still learning. If he wasn't bursting at the seams with new power, I'd probably not be able to feel anything at all – it certainly wasn't the same as a projected aura Skill like I had. And Jorge too, I could now confirm.

Vera had taken on much the same role for Nathlan as Jorge had for me, though she looked like she might have enjoyed herself a little more. There was a small cluster of bones atop a nearby spire, and when we arrived, I'd witnessed her grab a skeleton and throw it bodily at the tower. It had missed by a fair margin, but I suspected I knew where that pile had come from. It was surreal to think there were people that could use what to me was a life-threatening enemy as nothing more than idle target practice.

Still, it was reassuring in a way as well. We soon departed the plateau, trekking back through the battlefield of stone spires and slipping over the stubby ridgeline to return once more to the waving grasses that characterised the Wandering States.

We set off through the great grass sea, but not the way we had come. Before I could point that out though, Jorge pulled to a stop and turned to us.

"Right, lads. First of all, congrats. You've put in some hard work, and braved some strange things, but both of you have achieved all that I was hoping for you here, and more besides. So let's take a moment to celebrate that, aye?"

I cheered, and Nathlan took a graceful bow, though abruptly looked embarrassed at the attention, despite all of us finding it funny. It was always hard to tell what the prickly man would react to. Jorge continued before the moment could drag awkwardly though.

"And that brings me to my second point. We also found success. Caught the bastards with their pants around their ankles so it's fair to say the Lions won't be burning anymore traders this side of the Unclaimed Peaks," Jorge said with feeling.

"Although," he amended. "That's true of these ones, at least. There's no telling how many more are out there now, scouring the country for us. And that's why we're heading East."

Vera took over as Jorge pointed ahead of us, though in every direction there was nothing save for gently rolling hills and serpentine grass waving beneath a baby blue sky. The only blemish to the day were the dark clouds hovering over the chasm behind us that had tried to wash us away mere minutes ago. They seemed confined to the chasm for now though, unwilling to venture out over the open grasslands to worry us as we travelled.

"There's a city about a week's march this way, at the edge of the steppes," Vera said. "Colchet, buried in a canyon. The Lions have a small base of operations there, and Jorge and I plan to sack it and find out exactly what the fuck they think they're doing."

Nathlan nodded, and I did so along with him before catching myself. "Just to be clear, you're talking about sacking the base of operations, not the city itself, right?" I asked.

"Why do you think we needed to get you both some more levels?" Jorge asked innocently. "There's no way you can lay siege to an entire city without a weapons Skill, lad."

We traded silent glares at one another before he relented. "Of course we're not sacking the city." I breathed a sigh of relief, and he carried on. "It does mean we're abandoning the idea of heading to the Panyera though. We'd had big plans of making it there for the Sabayen – it's one hell of a harvest festival. You'd love it actually, Lamb! They race from smokehouse to smokehouse up the shores of the Panyera for miles in a sort of relay, and that…"

Jorge went on to extol the virtues and intricacies of the Sabayen festival for the people that lived along the great Panyera river to the West of the Wandering States, and I had to admit that he was right. It did sound great. Shame to be missing it, and I almost wished I hadn't heard about it given that we wouldn't be able to see it this year.

But then again, it was always better to know what you were missing. I needed that to be true, given my situation.

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