Dual Class [LitRPG] – Current Vol 4

Chapter 230: Why Am I Here, Just to Suffer?

Landin was finally brought back to reality, his stiff refusal to move melted away by the shout of the orc boy.

His eyes focused on Charlotte, her arm bleeding from four large gashes in it. He looked to the side seeing the minx had died.

He gripped his mace and cursed. He had been so frozen in fear that the fight was over in a flash.

What determination… It’s just like all the other times… He thought, anger boiling up in his mind.

Lanin forced himself to move, running to Charlotte’s side.

“A-are you alright Charlotte?”

She gave a weak groan of pain but grinned at him.

“Y-yeah. That was way scarier than I thought it would be,” she laughed wryly with a wince.

“How can you joke at a time like this,” Landin frowned, bringing his hand to her arm.

“I guess Drake is rubbing off on me?”

“Yeah, let’s hope that isn’t the case. Just give me a second and I’ll fix you right up.”

“May your flesh be cured, Mend.”

A weak white light radiated from his palm spreading over Charlotte’s wound, mending and closing the gashes leaving only small white lines for scars on the exposed flesh.

He ground his teeth. This is not what I had in mind when I thought I was going to finally get magic. I thought I could change this time, change something at least! And I’m still stuck here messing up left and right!

Charlotte looked on amazed at the spell, watching as her arm weaved back together right in front of her, completely oblivious to the turmoil inside Landin’s chaotic mind.

She flexed her hand feeling it return to almost normal from the spell.

“Thank you, Landin, I feel way better now,” she said.

Landin only nodded back still struggling to calm down his thoughts and regret of not helping with the previous fight.

Kalik shouted something from behind them, pointing off into the distance. But they couldn’t understand his words. Charlotte, Landin, and Quetz stood looking confused.

He tried again, pointing from the monster to himself, then to the forest again.

“Ah!” Charlotte said, realizing what he was trying to convey finally, “He wants us to move because of the monster’s blood. It’s a good idea, we should change locations, there isn’t any telling if there are more in the area.”

Landin’s mind was still a mess and he could only respond with a grunt.

“What’s wrong?” Charlotte asked, “Don’t get too hung up on the last fight, Landin. Kalik is a veteran hunter, remember?” she said, trying to console him.

“Y-yeah…” he answered weakly.

That isn’t the problem. You were able to fight right? He thought with self-depreciation.

Charlotte quickly re-explained the best she could for Quetz until the avian nodded in affirmation. Landin offered to heal Kalik as well but the brusk Orc boy only growled him away.

“Fine, all good dude, stay hurt…” Landin muttered.

Soon after they departed together in a random direction. Landin only assumed that their goal was to find a place to stay as the white snow was painted in the glow of the orange setting sun.

He began to lose himself in his thoughts again.

Landin could hear the laughing of his schoolmates in the back of his head, their voices soon drowning out the surroundings, the background noise turning to a deafening volume.

“You actually like that stuff?”

“Why not go to an old home? That shit is for kids and the decrepit!”

“Look, everyone! Raymond likes fucking dolls and cartoons!”

“Get a life loser!”

“Aren’t you a little old for that stuff?”

“Ha! No wonder you don’t have any friends!”

He tried to push back the haunting memory that was the start of abuse at school. It started with harmless teasing at first, then slowly increased to full-scale bullying. His locker being spray painted and threatening letters were left inside.

Landin shrank at the memory. He never blamed the other kids. The stuff he liked, he knew weren’t the same things kids his age enjoyed. But he found solace in the shows, the soothing beats of Jazz, the way the old blues gave his soul relief from the distress of growing up and school.

But going into high school the mound of stress only kept growing. And he tried to find an outlet. He decided to take up skating. Throwing his whole heart into it. He practiced every day and spent what money he could on getting shoes, boards, and other things like wax and grip tape. Even saving up for a camera to eventually start posting videos of his progress.

However, the bullying at school had become worse, reaching its peak. They had stolen his skateboard, smashing it in half in front of him. Beating the shit out of him in the process.

He returned home, bruised and bleeding, his lip swelling like a bee had stung it several times. After opening the door Landin only wanted to lay down and rest, his will and mind hazy, broken, and unstable.

When he walked inside he was greeted by his parents. And what had happened, broke him. The only thing they were worried about was not the injuries he had gotten, but how much it would cost them to bring him to the hospital.

They had both berated him for continuing to get bullied at school and liking the hobbies he did as if it was his fault he had garnered such negative attention. They continued to yell and shout telling him to stop having his head in the clouds thinking of things that would obviously fail.

Landin put one foot in front of the other, the familiar crunch of snow sounding below each languid step.

He scoffed to himself, “Yeah… Obviously fail. Just like the other times… Everything I do is bound to fail. They were right then and they’re right now-”

His lengthy line of self-deprecating insults was cut short as he slammed into something.

Landin grunted in both surprise and pain, his hand going to his head, rubbing at it furiously as if doing so would make the pain go away.

He looked up, gripping his mace tightly as he remembered where he was. However, the only thing there was the trunk of a tree.

“Bro… I was so distracted I ran into a tree?” he sighed, brushing himself off and getting up.

Landin gave one more deep exacerbated sigh, “What the hell is wrong with me. I should have just backed out…”

He quickly put his head on a swivel the next moment. Unable to hear the crunching of snow. Looking around he found no one. He had gotten separated.

“What the hell…”

Landin groaned in frustration. Just what the hell was he doing? Dragged around by a man he barely knew, even if he did save him. Going along with something as dangerous as fighting monsters just because he wanted to impress a girl he saw. Then not backing out because he was too frightened to at the last minute.

His parents were right. He had his head in the clouds, he was nothing but a disaster waiting to happen, he was a burden to them and now he was a burden to both Drake and the group he was with.

“I-i better retrace my steps and get back, hopefully, the footprints are still in the snow since it isn't snowing,” he stammered, fighting back a frustrated sob.

He turned following his footsteps for a few minutes only to be stopped in his tracks.

“N-no way. T-this can’t be happening!” he shouted in disbelief.

In front of him were two massive pigs, or would calling them boars be more apt?

Landin took one hesitant step backward, only to hear more crunching of snow behind him.

His head creaked as it turned to look over his shoulder, two more boars with long tusks grunting puffs of white as they shook their heads, a menacing glint in their eyes.

“No, no, no!” he shouted, but his legs refused to move, “No, not now! Move! Move or I’m going to die!”

Landin gave a bitter grunt as he was tossed into the air, the wind knocked out of his chest.

W-what happened? He thought, his vision swimming as his surroundings blurred.

He felt a jolting pain in his chest as he struggled to right himself.

But the grunting from before sounded again.

Lanin looked up wearily, another boar charging towards him. His body locked up once again, unable to move as the lumbering monster ran straight for him.

He screamed, bringing his mace upwards and down as fast as his body could manage somehow striking the boar right in the center of its skull forcing it off course.

However, its long tusk managed to clip Landin, piercing his club arm straight through the forearm.

“Ahhhhh!” he barked, giving a shriek of pain.

Despite the pain, he could hear his parents. Hear them yelling and reprimanding him.

“Why are you causing trouble for others?”

“Do you know how much we’ve helped you only for you to keep playing around and getting hurt?”

“Why are you wasting all this time and money when you’re just going to end up failing again?”

He screamed.

“Why!”

The boar continued to charge forward with Landin in tow, unrelenting as it put one hoofed foot in front of the other, bringing him right back into the small herd of boars.

But the voices kept a deafening volume in Landin’s head, even with his end clearly looming over him.

He gave another broken sob of despair, “WHY! Why am I here?! Why does it always turn out this way!?”

The boar finally reached the others, running past the group of boars, the blow Landin had given it doing more damage than it expected as it careened to the side embedding the tusk into a nearby tree.

With another painful groan, Landin slammed against the trunk with an audible thud.

He could taste blood as he ground his teeth in frustration. The voices of disappointment and reproach never-ending.

Landin looked blearily around himself, the three other boars slowly closing in as the one that pinned him to the tree drooled a pink mixture of blood and saliva, knocked unconscious.

“I… I don’t want to die... I don’t want it to end with what they said being true!” he grunted.

“May your flesh be cured, Mend...”

A light glow of white spread over his body from his other hand. At some point, he had dropped his cross but somehow still held on to his mace, possibly the tusk had locked his hand into place forcing a death grip on the weapon.

But his time to heal was limited, the next moment an excruciating pain burrowed itself into his chest.

Landin looked down, a red-smeared tusk jutting from his torso.

He coughed, tears of frustration beading down his face. And even on his last legs, the voices continued.

“You are a failure.”

“You are nothing.”

“You’re just a burden.”

“No…” Landin finally growled back, his hand gripping the boar’s tusk.

“I don’t care anymore!” he roared, “Just shut the hell up already! Who are you to say what I am?! You never supported me anyway! Where were you when they abused me! Where were you, when that old lady tried to fucking kidnap me!? You were never there!”

Something had snapped inside Landin. The frustration boiled over turning into unbridled bristling anger that needed a way out.

“The only one who’s been there was him! He helped me! Not you! So get the hell out of my head!” Landin screamed back, his free hand beginning to glow with a dark purple hue, “Even if I am worthless, that isn’t for you to decide anymore. I’m going to survive and get stronger for him. For them. For me!”

“I am what ails you, Wrath!”

The purple light around his hand congealed and covered the Boar’s face, sinking into its hide. A moment later it bucked and shrieked in pain, wrenching its tusk from Landin’s chest.

Lanin coughed up another mouthful of blood, his vision darkening but forced another spell from his mouth.

“May your flesh be cured, Mend.”

A small respite of relief washed over him before pain assailed him once more. But he clenched and steeled himself against the pain.

He turned his head, looking at his arm that was pinned against the trunk of the tree. Landin ripped his mace from his hand, taking it in the other as he raised it, slamming it into the tusk of the monster, breaking it and himself from the tree.

The boar suddenly woke up with a baleful roar but not before Landin came down with another swing of his mace, caving the monster’s skull in on itself.

Landin’s eyes went to the notification on his periphery.

[You have subjugated Winter Tusk Mana Boar Level 1]

[You have subjugated Winter Tusk Mana Boar Level 1]

[Congratulations! You are now Cleric Level 2] [14 Free Stats have been awarded]

He thought he had only killed the one, but apparently, his Wrath spell had more damage than he gave it credit, somehow killing the other level 1 boar.

With a quick pull of his status that he had practiced on the bus trip here, he pushed his free stats into Intelligence. Surviving this fight was his top priority and if his Wrath spell was able to kill the low-level boar over its duration of damage it would be his best shot at getting through this.

[Landin Raymond]

 

[Race: Human]

[Base Class: Cleric] Level 2

 

[Vitality] 27

[Strength] 12

[Dexterity] 12

[Intelligence] 41

[Wisdom] 22

[Endurance] 22

 

[Free Points] 0

 

[Skills] Basic Mend [Level N/A], Basic Wrath [Level N/A]

 

[Titles]

First Blood, Two vs One, Living On the Edge, Close Call

He just hoped the others would find him soon and that these boars were not at a higher level.

“May your flesh be cured, Mend,” Landin cast once more on himself, his hand going to his chest, spreading the white light over his torso.

He gave another shuttered breath the itchy feeling of flesh mending together sent a disgusting chill down his spine.

However, he didn’t have long to sit in the feeling as a wrathful squeal hit his ears.

One of the remaining two boars charged forward, galloping with all its strength and fury directly at him.

Landin moved to dodge, but couldn’t put weight onto his back foot. His head turned to look at his right ankle searing with pain, his adrenaline unable to numb it after all of his more serious wounds.

The split second of distraction was all the boar needed to close the distance as it slammed into him, sending him flying backward against another tree trunk.

Snow from the leaves fell unceremoniously on top of him covering him before a crimson red bled through the bottom of the white covering.

But Landin smiled as the boar bailed in pain, falling to its side. Landin had managed to get one last Wrath spell to connect to the boar.

The remaining boar ignored its fallen comrade as it ran straight for Landin, ready to finish the group’s work and run him straight through with its tusks.

“A-at least I tried,” Landin coughed, his hand beginning to glow white as he cast Mend one last time before the boar reached him, his vision darkening.

“May your flesh be cured, Mend…” he muttered, the sound of something cutting through the air, and the wail of pain as something hit the ground next to him.