Chapter Forty-Four


    Obsidian is formed when volcanic lava cools so quickly that crystals don’t have time to grow. It is shiny, holding a hint of the fire it once was. There was a reason it was called fire glass. The ocean Eric Delrosa looked out at reminded him of obsidian.


    Black as obsidian, it reflected the twin full moons that hung in the sky, and the waters rolled gently. It would have been beautiful if Eric could feel such an emotion. Activating the scrolls of water breathing, he and the others dove in.


    His experience with swimming beneath the ocean weaves was limited, but he was D-Grade, and those stats helped him now as he swam easily through the water. The tunnel wasn’t hard to see, especially since Eric had taken care to purchase goggles. Getting into the cave mouth, they all emerged on the banks of wet gray stone, as sleek as an otter.


    He was careful not to lose his balance. The last thing he wanted was to perish here, on the jagged rocks of this unknown cave. Ahead was a narrow path that they would need to follow to the library. First, he had the mage use a skill to dry their clothes.


    The mage was interesting, as classes went. He had an elemental manipulation skill at epic rank. It gave him some control over basic elements. Sadly, he could do nothing about stone. Hence the scrolls.


    None of them said much, which was a result of Eric’s skill. They were in a trance-like state, aware and not aware of their goings on. They did possess some autonomy, but it was fairly limited. Eric was lucky none of them had access to a spiritual skill.


    He had grilled them about it, trying to shore up his knowledge and he learned some interesting things. Apparently, spiritual skills were rare and when they were offered, very few tended to take them because usually they weren’t great to start out with.


    Eric had asked why no one knew this, given how they were essential to advance, and found the answer very interesting indeed, although it was nothing new.


    The answer was power, of course.


    Those at the top didn’t want competition. The more people who had access to spirit, the more people who could challenge them. This meant that the information about spirit was guarded and rarely given out. The only reason the mage knew was because of an old book he had found in a dungeon written on the subject.


    He had since sold it, of course.


    He remembered most of the knowledge, though, and Eric had made sure to get as much of it from him as he could. There were two ways to get another spiritual skill. Either you could hope the System offered another later down the line, which was rare but possible, or you could defeat a sector boss.


    Sector bosses were powerful opponents, especially if you were taking one without spirit.


    Eric had considered pursuing one but chose not to. He was going the third route, finding a mythical weapon with a spirit of its own.The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Mythical, spiritual weapons allowed a wielder access to its spirit, and Eric was resolved to possess one. The spear, gungnir was said to be one of the more powerful versions of these weapons.


    Eric resisted the urge to rub his hands as they emerged from the path, finding themselves in front of a massive wall. Using stone shaping, they morphed the stone until it was open, revealing the library beyond. It was a silent process.


    Eric had made sure of that before buying the spell. It would defeat the purpose if he let everyone in the castle know they were there. The stone closed, leaving nothing but smooth gray wall.


    The library itself was lit by orange lamplight that cast long shadows over the old shelves filled with tomes. Near the front was a desk area, probably for the librarian. It was quiet, likely because everyone was in bed.


    Or he hoped so anyway.


    The corridor was lit by more feint light, along with the moonlight that drifted in from the windows.


    They did run across a pair of guards as they made their own to Lord Elgin’s chambers, but Eric merely used his skill,


    “Be silent, forget you ever saw us. Go sleep in your room.”


    The temptation to end the guard was strong. It had been so long since he had felt that zinging thrill he so loved. But leaving a trail of dead bodies in his wake was precisely what he had been trying to avoid with this venture.


    After that, they came upon Elgin’s rooms. Two more guards in front of the door were taken care of much the same as the first. Eric had the mage scan for any glyphs protecting the door, and he turned up nothing.


    Eric did rub his hands then. After what felt like an eternity, this was it. He was finally going to get the weapon he had came from. Everything pointed to this Elgin having the spear.


    He took a breath, and slowly, with practiced ease, Eric opened the door.


    The chamber beyond was a large room, with a massive bed, a desk area, a few dressers and adorned with pieces of art and expensive looking rugs.


    Eric wasted no time, tapping his skill, he spoke the words he was sure would bring him victory.


    “Wake up, you serve me now. Come, and stand before me.”


    Eric rubbed his hands, as from the bed, a figure got out. He was a lithe man, with a large brown beard touched with silver, and bright blue eyes. A scar stood out on his right cheek. He was dressed in green and gold silk night clothes. His bearing was straight, carrying himself with all the confidence you would expect from a lord.


    He walked over to Eric, standing at attention, eyes glazed over.


    Eric smiled,


    “Finally. Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for this, Mr. Lord Elgin? Go and fetch gungnir.”


    Instead of going to a chest or anywhere else the spear might be, Elgin held out a hand. There was a pulse of black and silver gray light and in his hand was a spear.


    Eric had expected it to look majestic, to be mythical in appearance.


    Instead, the spear was made of a black wood, with silver font adorning it. The blade itself shone like molten silver, crushed pearls and captured moonlight. Glyphs like burnished gold shifted and moved along the blade.


    That was the most fantastical thing about it. Eric’s eyes shone with undisguised avarice


    He used [Identify] on the spear.


    [Gungnir-Mythic Spiritual Weapon]: Said to have once been owned by the god, Odin, gungnir never misses its target. This weapons levels with its wielder and can be blocked by anyone of equal or above in power to it. Anyone wielding this spear may access its spirit, wielding it as their own. In addition, grants lightning resistance. Additional effects unlock at higher grades. Currently soul bound to Lord Elgin.]


    Not for long, it won’t be.


    Eric could see Lord Elgin attempting to fight off Eric’s skill. Honestly, Eric felt a little disappointed. Elgin would be no match for Ambrose. He had expected more from this world. More from a forerunner.


    “Take this spear and impale it through your throat.”


    A flash of sanguine liquid and pale silver, a gurgle and the scent of iron and the thud of a body dropping to the ground.


    Just like that, Eric leveled and achieved his goal.


    Gungnir was his.