"Thomas, you're all right!" Wyll says as he trots over to me, "Or at least you look all right," He leans closer and looks me up and down, "Are you all right?"
I push him away, "I'm fine. I should be good to enter the dungeon today as well, in fact."
Wyll looks doubtful, "Are you sure? You took a pretty bad hit there. When Claire came in and I told her what happened, she was surprised that you weren't hurt worse."
That makes sense. That was the main reason I activated the Abyssflames before the lycan matron bit down on me. It wasn't to hurt it back, I was going to drive a sword through its heart anyway, it was to increase my defence so that I could resist damage better.
I wasn't really thinking in terms of later at the time, I was more thinking that the less damage I took, the more able I'd be to defeat my opponent. It seems to have worked out in the long term too though.
"In any case, thank you for submitting proof of the lycan matron's death," I tell Wyll, "I would hate for it all to have been for nothing."
"Yeah," Wyll laughs embarrassedly, "I remembered to do that at the last moment. I turned in all of our other gems to Ms. Clara too. She said she'd add them to our scores." He hesitated for a moment, "Why… why did you take a risk like that? Things could have gone wrong in so many different ways…"
"It was the only way I could think of to win," I say, "We would have died otherwise."
"But we could have run away," Wyll points out, "Its leg was injured—you injured it."
My brain comes to a screeching halt. That's right… it was injured, we could have tried to run. The lycan matron would have made it difficult, but there must have been something we could do…
So why did I not think of that?
Fighting it felt only natural, even with the risk of death. Defeating it took priority, shutting out any other options. That's not normal, is it?
"Ms. Clara was really angry," Wyll continues, "She said judging our capabilities against an opponent's is the first thing we learn in the academy, and that maybe we need to retake the beginner classes." He looks apologetic as he reveals, "She, er—she also thought that you forced me into fighting an opponent we weren't ready for. Don't worry, I told her it wasn't like that."
Well, that's unreasonable. I know Thomas Filmore has a bad reputation, but Claire Weiss says that he's a schemer who never puts himself in danger, and Ms. Clara says that he forces others to jump into deadly danger with him. Those are opposites, stick to one complaint!
Wait, I guess the complaint ends up being the same: he puts others in danger.
I shake my head, none of that matters right now. "We need a tank," I say.
"A tank?" Wyll asks.
"Yes, someone to pull focus from enemies and resist the damage they do," I say, "You're a decent support with how you slow down enemies, and I can deal quite a lot of damage, but without a tank, we won't get very far. I'm not even sure we'll be able to make it to the end of level two again."
"We're… creating a party?" Wyll asks quietly.
I raise an eyebrow, "Do you not want to?"
"No, no! It's not that!" Wyll exclaims in a panicked manner, "It's just—I thought you had plenty of people that you could party up with…"
Now that he says it, he has a point. I'm thinking in terms of the future; all of Thomas Filmore's so-called friends will abandon him once he loses to Rex Cranz, whether willingly or not. His friends are all nobles, and their families can't tolerate the disgrace of being associated with a high-ranking noble who called a peasant out to a duel and lost.
But that's the future. Right now I have plenty of options to select from.
"You're not wrong," I say, "We can easily find a tank among them." A healer too, now that I think about it.
"B-but you still want me in your party too?" Wyll asks.
"Have I indicated otherwise?" I ask back, "Now, do you know anyone who would make a good tank?"
I have options among Thomas Filmore's friends, yes, but there are still many problems that come with that as well. For one, they might notice he's acting odd, and for another, Wyll is pretending to be a commoner, a lot of Thomas' friends won't take kindly to that.
"A tank… A tank…" Wyll mutters in thought.
"Or a healer," I say, "We need both for a fully effective party."
"Oh! I do know a healer!" Wyll says suddenly, "There's this girl in my year, and all the teachers said that she has amazing potential to be a healer!"
I raise an eyebrow, "Someone like that must already be in a party."
Wyll grimaces, "Right, about that. She may have amazing potential as a healer, but… she's apparently very difficult to work with. I haven't spoken much with her though, so I wouldn't know."
…Oh. I think I know exactly who he's talking about.
"Is this girl Leila Freiss by any chance?" I ask.
Wyll perks up, "Yes! How did you know?"
I resist the urge to palm my forehead at the thought of that troublesome character, "I've heard of her. Well, it's not like we have any other options, let's go to talk to her. The tank will have to wait."
"Now?" Wyll asks as I stand.
I stretch and rotate my limbs, and then I test the mobility of my left arm in particular. When I feel no pain, I say, "You don't have class right now, do you?"
"We have one in a few hours."
I say, "Then, yes. Now. No point in putting it off."