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AliNovel > Ascension of a Warlock > Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Nineteen

    I once again questioned the taste of the Academy''s interior designer. The over-fascination with matt colors was beginning to bug me. This particular case more so than others, the white being uniquely, offensively bright to my eyes.


    I stood once again in the white void that served as the classroom for Dungeon 101. This time, I stood with other people. People I had stood with before, in fact. And people I would likely be standing with quite a lot in the future.


    A popping sound escaped my lips as I swung my arms idly. A few seconds passed, and another pop came. From someone else. The elf, Savhyt. The one with ice sword. Another pause, and... nothing. I looked at Savhyt. He looked at me. We looked at the others. Asta''s mask was unreadable. Zarah looked bored. James didn''t seem to be paying attention.


    A few moments passed in silence, punctuated only by the occasional shifting of weight, the rustle of fabric, and the steady, almost mechanical sound of breathing. No one spoke. It wasn’t quite an awkward silence, but it was certainly a waiting one.


    Savhyt rolled his shoulders, his armor shifting slightly with the movement. He didn''t say anything, but the pointed look he shot at me made it very clear he was waiting for something.


    I raised a brow. "What?"


    "You started it," he said simply, deadpan.


    That was fair. I had, in fact, started it.


    I rolled my shoulders again for good measure, listening to the satisfying crackle of joints settling into place. Savhyt did the same, and for a brief, bizarre moment, it felt like some unspoken contest. I was about to take it up a notch when something rudely interrupted.


    Said something being the sudden and unappreciated materialization of one Ms. Valen. Mrs? Miss? One of those. You get the point. Anyway, the brick wall of a woman''s unexpected appearance rather stifled any entertaining antics.


    "Students," she said, in her monotone voice. She paused for a moment, and it wasn''t as I expected. The slightest bit of emotion flickered over her face. Annoyance. Gone in a moment. She let out a short sigh, more an extended breath than anything.


    "Today is the day on which you will enter your first Dungeon. That would not normally be today. You would be given much more time to prepare. However, issues arose in the availability of the Academy''s regularly reserved Dungeon, resulting in this deviation from the proper schedule. What this means, in effect, is that you are entering with significantly less preparation and education than you normally would."


    I narrowed my eyes, pursed my lips, but said nothing.


    "None of you should perish, save for of extreme incompetence. That said, there will be no lifeline to save you. Be fully aware that it is at all moments life and death. Are there any questions that you would ask beforehand?"


    I considered for a moment, then shrugged. The thought did suddenly occur to me, though, that it might be beneficial to take a look at my own status.


    Allister Rose


    Human


    Warlock


    Patron: The Whispering Dark


    Age 16


    Level 1


    Experience: 60/100


    Favor: 100/100


    Strength: 10


    Intelligence: 11


    Mana: 28


    Agility: 10


    Will: 12


    Endurance: 10


    Dexterity: 10


    Skills: Inspect (Racial skill), Commune (Class skill), Evocation (Class skill), Walk in the Shadows, Feast of Terror, Whisper of Insanity, Seek Through Shadow, Basic Scepter Proficiency


    I noticed the Favor requirement had filled. Which was slightly surprising. And slightly unnerving. The Experience was half'' the way there, which was nice. I could forsee the Skills section getting unruly in the future, so I fiddled with it, metaphorically poking it until it minimized. It was an intuitive thing.


    It didn''t seem that anyone did have any questions. Which in fact seemed to rather disappoint Valen, if anything. Not visibly, but there was a sort of air of emotion about her. An aura, almost, that portrayed the things that''d normally be shown on a face.


    "Take note that, in the future, it is recommended you attempt to aquire as much information as possible before you enter a Dungeon. You will rarely do so spontaneously, and there is most often no detriment to taking the time to prepare."


    Ah, yes, that would have been the smart thing to do. I winced. Oops.


    Valen raised a hand in the air. Held it flat, vertically, and rotated it like a key in a lock. There was a... shuddering, for lack of a better term. A doorway, like that of this room, appeared on one of the walls. Though, it was different in the flat sheet of shockingly blue light at the other end. That part was quite the notable difference. Along another wall, various racks of weaponry and stands of armor appeared. Similar to the ones that had been present for yesterday''s Combat class.


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    "The Dungeon you will enter is one that has been rated as suitable for delvers such as yourselves. That is to say, it is of a comparatively low quality, with challenge and rewards as such. You will be provided with a basic map, and are to exit after completing the first floor. After one hour has passed, any who have not re-emerged will be extracted, if they have not perished.


    "Those of you who require such items should take their pick from the provided armory. It is suggested you organize yourself with a group of no more than five. You will not be able to enter with more than this number. Any rewards earned from this delve will be collected afterwords. Please proceed to prepare yourselves."


    There didn''t seem to be any more to say, so I held up a finger to my own group -in the universal sign of ''one second,'' not in the rude way- strode over to the armory, and plucked a scepter from the rack. Mission completed, I pivoted and returned to my starting point. The only other who had left was, coincidentally, the other human. He''d come back having donned a set of light chainmail that clinked slightly. A large-ish axe was sling over his back. Single-bladed, roughly the width of my hand, spread.


    I looked at them. They looked at me. We looked at each other. It was awkward again. James sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.


    "This is going to be a process," I said, in a matter-of-fact tone.


    "Yeah." He voiced his agreement.


    Savhyt groaned and rolled his head dramatically, drumming his fingers rapidly on the hilt of his sword.


    "This isn''t going to work. I need a topic. Hmm..." His voice was fast, and clipped. As if he tried to get through each sound as fast as possible.


    "You!" He dragged out the word, then snapped out a finger to Zarah. She seemed to me as disinterested as humanly -orcishly?- possible. I wondered why she was here. Well, no, not not really. Likely the same reasons I was, mostly. "What can you do? For the Dungeon. Oh, I know! Share your status." A pause. "If you don''t mind, of course."


    She grunted. Then she waved a grey hand through the air, as if poking at something. Soon after, she swiped, and a panel swiveled into my view.


    Zarah


    Orc


    Warlock


    Patron: The Mountain That Falls And Breaking Earth


    Age: 14


    Level 2


    Experience: 0/200


    Favor: 0/100


    Strength: 20


    Intelligence: 10


    Mana: 25


    Agility: 10


    Will: 14


    Endurance: 10


    Dexterity: 10


    Skills: Danger Rush, Commune, Evocation, Mountain Shell, Crashing Stone, Earthbreak, Unarmed Combat Proficiency


    I frowned. Looked at her. Back at the screen. Frowned harder. Here she was, younger than me, and daring to be a higher level?! And not only that, but fully twice my strength score? Also, fourteen? She certainly didn''t look it. Did orcs mature faster? Well, it must be so, seeing as she''s Classed and here.


    Anyway, an assessment of the team proceeded. Zarah was a heavy brawler, up front and punching and kicking and such. Apparently, her fighting style was focused on momentum and impacts, in line with her Patron. Which was all about crashing earth, landslides, earthquakes and things of that nature.


    Savhyt


    Elf


    Warlock


    Patron: Red Run The Waters, Teeth in The Depths


    Age: 30


    Level 1


    Experience: 90/100


    Favor: 50/100


    Strength: 10


    Intelligence: 11


    Mana: 28


    Agility: 15


    Will: 22


    Endurance: 9


    Dexterity: 12


    Skills: Mana Affinity, Commune, Evocation, Stream Blade, Bloodletting, Water Glide, Elven Mana Weaving, Elven Swordsmanship, Rapid Movement


    At this point I was barely holding myself back from sputtering. Just barely. Thirty! Near twice my age! Though, that was less inconceivable, considering what I''d heard about their lifespans. It made some sense.


    What made no sense were the sheer stats. The same level as me! And yet, these monstrous numbers in comparison! I began to heavily question who or whatever it was that was in charge, and whether or not they were secretly an elf.


    "Excuse me," I interrupted. "Is this..." I gestured at the screen, "normal? The stat numbers, I mean. I started with just 10 in everything. But accounting for the Warlock bonuses, you''d have had... double that, in Will? And bonuses in Agility and Dexterity, too."


    "Oh," He said, deflating from his fast pace. "Yes? As far as I know, that''s the default for an elf. Oh!" His face lit back up as his previous speed returned. "Yes, I remember now. I believe the reasoning is that it''s due to elven lifespans. Because it''s so much... more than most others. Because we live so much longer, we progress slower than, say, humans. And to compensate for that, there''s a bonus in stats at the lower levels. All this hypothetical, of course."


    Hmm. I supposed it made some sense. Still ridiculous though. Moving along. As you might have gathered, he was a swordsman. And he was fast. He sword-ed things very quickly. That mostly it, at least for now.


    Asta decline to share, but assured they were some sort of sneaky stabby type, the kind to creep up behind someone and put a knife where they''d rather not have it. In other language.


    I shared mine and... well, you know what mine looks like. Other than me, there was the other human -at least, other definite human- present. Who I could relate to, on account of making some degree of sense. Mostly.


    James


    Human


    Warlock


    Patron: That Which Dwells The Void


    Age: 16


    Level 1


    Experience: 60/100


    Favor: 70/100


    Strength: 10


    Intelligence: 11


    Mana: NULL


    Agility: 10


    Will: 12


    Endruance 10


    Dexterity: 10


    Skills: Inspect, Commune, Evocation, Step, Tear, Consume, Basic Greataxe Proficiency


    There was a bit of oddness, but it was normal oddness, apparently. One couldn''t draw mana from a place that had none. As he himself put it:


    "The void things... aren''t, and they don''t. They''re from a place that isn''t. Where time wasn''t and won''t."


    I won''t pretend to get it. Simple to say, it was supposedly nothing out of the ordinary. Besides the weirdness of the whole situation of course.


    He was also a frontline fighter. Which I noticed we had quite a lot of. Slower than Savhyt, but... well, also slower than Zarah, but in a different way. There wasn''t really much to say about any of us, actually. One hit things hard. One hit things fast. One hit things sneakily. One hit things... mentally? The scheme fell apart, but you understand.


    That all dealt with, and a basic strategy cobbled together, -mostly consisting of ''try to not perish''- we lined up in no particular order and marched our way over to the exit.


    Happening to be first in the line, I snatched a map from a stack atop a pedestal sat near the gate and stepped into the archway.


    Blue light surged, then faded. I was in a room. The walls and cieling were stone. The floor was bright green grass. There was no discernable light source, but the whole place was bright as day. Across the space from where we entered, perhaps some fifteen steps, was an arch set into the wall. It was also simple stone, with no decoration save for the roses whose stems coiled through the bricks, their blooms adorning it in a thick red carpet.


    I clenched my fist. Gritted my teeth. Slowly exhaled through my nose.


    "Oh, Fu-"
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