《Front Tide》


 1.1

    A hole opened up beneath his feet, as wide and as large as a city block, crumbling into the dark. He remembered the impact, the fall breaking him so much like a twig. He didn''t feel much of anything. The shock and the pain must have been overwhelming, but he did remember closing his eyes.


    He must have died, then.


    So why was it, when he woke up, he saw an old man, wizened and bearded and wearing blue robes of all things? The blurry vision didn''t help, and he was completely out of it. Drugged, he assumed, and also apparently stapped to a wooden table. He could barely talk, so he just drooled every time he tried. Whatever questions he wanted to ask, was stuck in his throat. He couldn''t even move his limbs.Might as well be a dead fish.


    It also didn''t help that there was a giant bird on fire, with a wingspan of thirty foot chained to the wall. The spikes stabbed into its flesh, binding it like some crucified martyr left a bad taste in his mouth. Its screams of agony weremuted around a bubble of some clear crystal, though evenJor could hear its agony and rage.


    The bird would have been beautiful, if not for the cruel act done to it.The wannabe Gandalf didn''t seem to mind it, completely ignored it, even.


    J?rmungandrShesha


    Level 1


    Class - N/A


    Strength - 0 - 0%


    Endurance - 0 -0%


    Intelligence - 0 -0%


    Willpower - 0 -0%


    Vitality - 0 -0%


    When he saw the light blue screen pop up, he was left baffled. It wasn''t long before Jor soon lost consciousness.


    --


    When he woke up again, it was to a massive cavern. The lab, or what must have been one, was now gone. He assumed he was left behind somewhere else, like so much as dirty laundry.


    When Jor felt his limbs move, he was surprised. The fall from such a high should have killed him. Well, if not that, then it should have damn near break every bone in his body. The fact that he not only survived,that he could move at all was surprising.


    A dream? The weird man and that burning bird... And just what was that screen?


    The blue screen popped up, startling him. This time, the stats were different, if only slightly.


    <div>


    J?rmungandrShesha


    Level 1


    Class - N/A


    Strength - 0 - 0%


    Endurance - 0 -0%


    Intelligence - 0 -0%


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


    Willpower - 0 -0%


    Vitality - 0 -0%


    Racial Trait - The Heart of the Phoenix


    That was new. The confusion assaultedhim, leaving him more anxious thenfearful. He waved his hands against the blue translucentscreen, but it went right through. A hologram? Thatdidn''t make any sense. They didn''t have the technology for it, and even still, it was still barely in the prototype stages.


    A roar shook the cavern. The blue screen was gone, now. And he was not of a mind to care where it went, but more of where that sound came from. The thing was, which left him slightly freaking out,that itliterallyshook the ground he was lying on. It felt like an earthquake, but that sound wasn''t some natural phenomenon. That sounded like it came from something large, and predatorial.


    Jor stumbled to his feet, deeply unsettled.


    He knew he was screwed when he saw his first skeleton. It came out of the dark, bereft of flesh and the bleached white bone and rusted armour. It was a broken, boxy helmet. And the short sword it clung to, despite its broken and rusted edge, didn''t make it any less dangerous.


    The eyes, though. That''s what gave it a dangerous feel. The glowing crimson points of light were glaring at him.


    His mouth must have been gaped open in amazement. Also, the need to run was prevalent.


    "No. Nope," Jor muttered, taking a step back. "No. No. Nope. I''m out!"


    He turned on his heels, then ran. Only to stop. Another of its kind stepped out to block his path, only slightly different in its gruesome appearance. And another, then another, until hundreds of pairs of red-eyed undead appeared to surround him.


    Jor was stuck.


    "Oh, fuck you. Fuck you!" He didn''t scream, but the words seemed to echo around the dark cavern.


    He was shaking, his body shivering with dread. He should be dead, only to vicariously survive a fall. Now, he''s about to be murdered by a bunch of undead.


    The closest undead reached him, its longsword swinging. He barely dodged it, only to feel cold steel strike him on his back. Jor didn''t scream, only because he didn''t have the strength for it. He pulled away, weakly elbowing the thing in the face.


    It hurt him more than it did the undead, because the spiked helmet dug into his flesh like so much as a hot knife through butter. He whimpered, yanking his arm off and moving away.


    The adrenaline kept him sane, and the pain focused his mind. He dodged the next swing, and another, only to get stabbed by a spear through his stomach. Jor felt his knees buckle and fell to his knees. The pain felt like nothing he''d ever known.


    Was this how he was going to die? In here, in the dark, far away from home, away from the warmth of his bed and hot coffee. Sure, his condo was empty. It was even slightly dirty, with an empty pizza box littered somewhere on his coffee table. It was still his, though. It was home.


    He wondered how his girlfriend was doing? Alicia was a right firecracker, and he suddenly missed her so much. What would she do, if she found out he was gone? Would she look for him? Would she alert the police, and his family, about his missing person?


    Also, no one was there to delete his browser history.


    "Well, shit," Jor gurgled out, as blood came spilling out of his mouth.


    Those were his last words before a hammer caved his head in like so much as a ripe fruit.

 1.2

    Jor awoke with a gasp, taking in the much needed, precious, air. He scrambled up to his feet, checking his body for any grievous wounds. None, just like before. No, maybe not like before. His clothes and skin were caked in his own blood, and cleaning them off was going to be a bitch and a half.


    His thoughts drifted to that old man. He did something. It had to be the only explanation. And the bird. There was a connection between them. Just what it was, he had no idea. The only clue would be his racial trait, which left him with nothing but assumptions and theories, whichwould lead him nowhere.


    He checked his surroundings, watching for the undead to come leaping at him to finish the job. None came, so far. Which was good, because it let Jor run the opposite direction of where the undead came from.


    The cavernwas a lightless world, and he wondered for just a moment, how he was able to see into the black depths. A trivial detail to concern over, what with the murderous undead wanting to chop his head off.


    He found a crevice to climb over a fair distance away, and into a small cave holed into the wall several dozen feet above. His handswerescraped and bloodied, but it only pushed him further to find safety. He needed to think. Hell, he needed time. The important things, like food and shelter, was something he had to figure out how to acquire. And he didn''t think he was going to get any of the former around here.


    Which reminded him, his stomach wasgrumbling something fierce.Dammit! Of all times...


    The small cave snaked itsway for miles, and he had to stop to rest several times before he continued on his journey. Where it led, he had no idea. The onlycertaintyhe knew of, was that he had to get away. There were things in the dark that terrified him,and all he wanted was to get away.


    It took an hour before the exit widened into an opening, and Jor made sure to get on his belly, before crawling toward the edge of the cliff. Miles below, shafts of white natural sunlightbathed the underground ancient city. Hiseyes followed the source of the light, where the massive entrance sat, adjacent to a grand castle. And further inward, toward the stone ruins of a small city, the undead roamed listlessly in their hundreds of thousands.


    It filled him with a sense of terrible awe, and dread. His gritted his teeth in disbelief. After all this time, all this work, and the damned cave only led him further toward the very heart of his trouble.There was no way he could get past a city of undead. A simple dumb skeleton killed him, so what chances did he have against an army? Absolutely none. They looked like a colony of ants, ready to rip him apart at the first signs of trouble.


    So, with a frustrated sigh, and regret, he crawled back to the safety of the dark. The way back was, of course, easier, and it took less time. He had to plan, and if that stupid stats gave him anything, it was that the potential for getting stronger was a possibility.


    Speaking of which... Jor concentrated on the stats, and it popped up immediately into existence. This time, though, somethinghad changed.


    <div>


    J?rmungandrShesha


    Level 1


    Class - N/A


    Strength - 0 - 4%


    Endurance - 0 - 8%


    Intelligence - 0 - 2%


    Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    Willpower - 0 - 14%


    Vitality - 0 - 45%


    Racial Trait - The Heart of the Phoenix


    So, it was possible to raise stats without leveling up. Did that mean he had to get into more fights, in order to increase his percentage for a stat gain? And, did any training help in increasing his stats? There were plenty of questions that needed to be answered, but none that came to him.


    When he got back, he found a roaming undead, wandering about like some kind of zombie. It was missing its left arm, and the other arm held asword. The weapon was unusual, where the blade was carefully carved with some pictographs he didn''t recognize the language of, and it certainly didn''t belong to the ancient Egyptian language. It was also broken in half. What should have been a longsword, was now a short sword.


    Still, it was a weapon, and he had no doubt he needed one now.


    He carefully maneuvered himself until he was right atop it. Crawling was hard, especially if he had to conceal any sound he made. Jor wondered if the undead could even hear anything, considering it was nothing more than bones, with flesh decomposed long ago. Still, best not leave it to chance to fuck things up. Considering his luck, he wouldn''t be surprised if Murphy''s Law decided to rear his ugly head.


    Jor quickly ducked his head with a stifled groan, when the undead stopped to turn to look his way. Its red eyes was searching, considering. Then, it turned its head away.


    Taking to his feet, he leaped off the edge as soundlessly as possible upon the undead. His booted feet caved into its ribs, and damaging a small part of its spine, crushing the undead into the ground with a clatter of bones. The weapon had clattered off to the side, and Jor fell heavily.


    The fall bruised him more than it did the undead. It was only his quick reaction that allowed him to jump on top of the zombie to get into a better position.Then, he punched the skull repeatedly, while holding onto its only arm. The weapon had clattered off to the side the second, and now that it was without arms, Jor did what he did best.


    He smashed his fist into its face, and he didn''t let up as he kept hammering away. The undead struggled, snapping its jaws to get to his flesh. Jor was in a better position, with his knees pinning its chest to the ground.


    It had surprisingly durable bones, but it didn''t stop line of cracks spider-webbed across its nasal bone, making the hole where the nose should be, slightly bigger.


    Jor cursed in pain and rage, even as the sharp edges of the skull bone cut into his fist. Despite the cuts and the bloodied hand, the only thing he could do was lash out, as all his frustration and fear came out in violence. Those pair of red eyes balefully glared at him, and they dimmed just slightly before he completely caved in its skull.


    The pain came, as the adrenaline slowly wore off. Jor lay there, by the body of the undead. Its eyes were long gone, and it seemed a miserable existence if he could free it from existing in such a bleak life. Un-life. Or something.


    Jor stumbled to his feet and picked up the broken sword. It didn''t look special, but it might have been in the prime of its life. The edge was still slightly sharp, and there was no way in hell he was going to allow himself to get cut by it. The last thing he needed wastetanus,stuck somewhere in the middle of a fantasy land.

 1.3

    The blade shattered, scattering the shards about as if a frag grenade had gone off. Which didn''t help him in the least, when said shrapnel pierced his arms and cheeks. Jor gasped in pain, reflexively closing his eyes. The pain bloomed into an explosion as if someone had stuck a live wire inside his brain.


    He was just lucky he hadn''t lost an eye as a result.


    Jor barely parried the next strike with what was left of his blade. The pain slowed his reflexes. The only reason he hadn''t stopped to scream, was the very good possibility of dying a gruesome death. The zombie, all flesh and certainly better preserved than the rest of its people, didn''t let up in its assault.


    The axe came down from a vertical strike with a vicious chop, forcing Jor to sidestep. Then, a series of parries followed, with Jor having to deflect the last follow-up. Its response was fast, but Jor was quicker with his return. When the opening came, it gave him a wide opening.


    With what was left of his blade, he shoved it straight through the eyes of the undead, and out the back of its skull. The skeleton warrior dropped instantly, its weapon clattering noiselessly aside from its grip. Whatever was left that powered the zombie, died alongside those crimson eyes. Their weakness, it seemed, was always the eyes.


    Jor dropped the blade, gasping for breath. This had been the... most painful. The pain was constant in his new life, and it didn''t get any easier dealing with it.


    It had been four months since he killed his first undead, and in between the fitful hours of sleep, and stalking random lone undead had been his only choice. There was little he could do, and with little recourse, he had to attain better stat gains in order to survive, and finally escape.


    It would take about another hour to get back to his hideout, so he discarded the broken blade next to the undead and picked up the new one. He examined the double-bladed axe closely; it had a surprisingly faint glow to it. Almost... otherworldly. There was little that Jor understood about this weapon, but it was strong enough to completely batter aside his strike with ease, and break his weapon without much kinetic force behind it. Which was a good thing, because he could use it.


    He laid it aside to check the body. The zombie was... well, it was better preserved. It had a tuft of blond hair, and sallow, sunken skin. There was still muscles in its form, but the flesh was starting to decompose. Then, he checked the next zombie, and the next, and the next. Three dozen in all.


    Jor managed to defend himself against a small army, constantly moving and fighting, never letting them surround him. The fact that he even had the endurance and the stamina at all was a new realization. And more so, when Jor estimated the fight might have lasted no more than half hour.


    "Close. Too close," Jor said to no one.


    The zombies were far stronger than the rest of its skeletal undead, and with the meat that provided better defense and strength, it could easily overpower a normal man. And there was also a kind of unnatural strength with these things, something that made them more than what they are.


    What interested him were the zombies itself. Where did they come from? Was there a human settlement nearby? And if so, where? How close were they? Jor had been battling these creatures for the better part of the last few months, and little answers were to be found.


    Jor continued his search.


    Most of these dead might have something that could become useful, but none that he found. He left the armour alone since there was no way in hell he was going to wear something that could weigh him down, especially ones that belonged to dead men. Who knew what kind of diseases he could pick up from these things.You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    Jor chuckled. Then again, he''s been stuck in here for a long time, more often than not, he talked to himself to practice his voice, and not go insane from the isolation. Which was ironic, since the undead were his only companions, and killing them tends to be really cathartic.


    Of course, the second he escapes, it''s more than possible he might start infecting people with the worst diseases known to man. Or, give them a really bad cold. Who knew how this world worked.


    Finding nothing, Jor picked up the newly won weapon and discarded the rest. Then, he made his way for home. Jor winced, gingerly touching his cheek.


    He started to dig out some of the shards embedded in his flesh, which was painful. The easier ones to take out were still sticking out of his skin like some macabre horror, but the ones deeper in were much harder to take out. He needed specialized equipment for that, as well as painkillers. Since he neither had none of those, he had something a bit cruder in mind.


    Of course, normally such an action would leave the wounds infected, and diseased, without proper disinfection and wrappings. However, give Jor a night''s sleep, and he healed without a scar to show for it. He never scarred, in fact.


    His home was still that same cave hidden several feet above the ground, and closer to the river. This was his new home, hidden in the deeper recess of the dark. The depressing part was, he actually managed to find a liking to it. Granted, he had no soft bed to sleep on, or even a chair to sit on. Just bare stone and rocks.


    His most important possessions were the weapons stacked against the side of the wall. Nearly a hundred in all, Jor managed to collect. They were the best quality he managed to find, and the rest he managed to ditch, due to their terrible condition. Some of them were centuries old, and the preserved ones managed to retain some of their lusters and, dare he say it? Magic.


    Jor sighed. He tossed the axe with the rest of his collection. Time was of little consequence, stuck in this world without light. So, he hunted.


    The hunger pains came and went, and the only thing keeping him sane was the small underground river he had found a mile south of here. Normally, he wouldn''t have touched the spring water, knowing quite well the kind of bacteria that lived in there. Normally, that is. Choices were hard to come by when there wasn''t any, to begin with. So, he succumbed to the water like a dying man with a parched throat. Which, sad to say, wasn''t far from the truth.


    And due to the lack of protein mostly from eating nothing, it only weakened him further from fully utilizing whatever stat gains he did manage to acquire. Jor lost quite the weight, which was bad since he only weighed about a hundred forty pounds originally. Any more and he might just as well join the undead troupe. The fact that he managed to not only survive but fight, was a feat in itself.


    The fact that he was still alive was a testament to how screwed up his life was. He picked up a sharp knife, as he sat down. It had a sharp edge, and it would work wonderfully for what came next. His shards managed to pierce it deeper into his arms, toward the bones. Taking them out was going to be painful, and he had no leather or cloth to stuff his mouth to stifle the screams. The last thing he needed was to alert the undead.


    A distraction, then.


    The stats screen appeared.


    J?rmungandr Shesha


    Level 2 - +5


    Class - N/A


    Strength - 7 - 4%


    Endurance - 8 - 80%


    Intelligence - 6 - 2%


    Willpower - 0 - 14%


    Vitality - 22 - 75%


    Racial Trait - The Heart of the Phoenix


    Jor pierced his forearm, both in an accident and in disbelief. He shouted in pain, "Fucker!"

 1.4

    He submerged himself into the water. It was warm, and he shivered in delight. All the blood and grime was washed off his skin after a good scrubbing. It felt good to be clean, again. He felt far more human than the last four months combined. Now, if only there were fishes he could catch in the flowing river. There wasn''t. Any, that is. There wasn''t even a thriving ecosystem in the waters. Only bare rock and limestone.


    It was only through luck that he managed to find a hot spring in this lawless land. Jor groaned with pleasure. Maybe there was a volcano underneath all... this. No wonder, then.This place was about as alive as the undead.


    Jor sighed, then checked his stats.


    It was odd. He could raise each of his stats through effort and training, but it was difficult. And the more stat you gain, the more difficult it is to achieve another stat gain of the same attribute.


    And as for leveling, that was a completely different beast altogether.Reaching a level had taken him months, and only gained hima net five point gain. The five points wasnot nothing, but it wasn''t anything important, either. At least, as far as he understood it. It can still be used to augmentany one of his stats, but it still bothered him that even gaining a level was so... unsatisfying.


    What was important to understand was, where did all of his stats hehadgained, gone? Had they merged when he accessed the next level? It seemed like the most possible explanation. Losing any of his stats because of a level achievementseemed underhanded, and unnecessarily cruel. It would have served more as a detriment then the pursuit of a goal.


    Even so, he still had 5 points to distribute, but Jor was hesitant. So, Jor did what he did best: procrastinate. Killing the undead seemed easier than thinking of his future. And no doubt, these pointsmeantsomething. It had to.


    Jor flopped onto his back, floating on top of the water. He watched the dark ceiling with contempt, the dagger-like stalactites seemingly aimed at his heart.


    He needed to get stronger. Though the skeletons didn''t seem like much of a threat, their sheer numbers could easilyoverwhelm him. The zombies were fewer in numbers, thankfully. But, they were all the deadlier for it. Their strength and speed granted them an overwhelming ability to dog his steps regardless of how far, or how fast he ran, and theirflesh serves itself well as armour. They were terrible fighters, though, and their reflexes were slow.Which, ultimately, allowed him to put them down one by one,even when he faced ten to one odds.


    His thoughts wandered off. The thought of family and friends he left behind was like a knife in the ribs. It just kept twisting and twisting. There were many regrets he wished he could undo. It was one of the reasons why he hated the quiet. The silence made him contemplate his past, of his actions and doubts. Music helped with that, as did games or the school and his part-time job.


    Every weekend, Jor and his friends would steal his dad''s alcohol and buy some joints. They''d go to the park, in the dead of night, and they hadfun.Nostalgia was the key to their happiness, and fucking up a part of their experience. A sort of therapeutic moment in his life. Their lives, he supposed.


    If he wanted to get back, he needed to be stronger, faster. Better. Jor popped up his stats screen.This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    J?rmungandr Shesha


    Level 2 - +5


    Class - N/A


    Strength - 7 - 4%


    Endurance - 8 - 80%


    Intelligence - 6 - 2%


    Willpower - 15 - 35%


    Vitality - 29 - 11%


    Racial Trait - The Heart of the Phoenix


    In the past four months, he had managed to gain quite the acclimated stats, mostly for his endurance, willpower, and vitality. The max number of stats he could earn per stat would be thirty. He knew this because Jor gained thirty stat point in vitality almost unnaturally fast, before he gained level two. Going past it, and getting thirty one was impossible. He assumed it was the same for the rest of his stats.


    Unfortunately, he couldn''t achieve the same amount for the rest of his stats before he leveled up. So, what did leveling up achieve, other than gain him extra stat points that would only limit it? Jor decided to test his theory, only because his vitality stat was so high, and was a point away from being completed.


    J?rmungandr Shesha


    Level 2 - +3


    Class - N/A


    Strength - 7 - 4%


    Endurance - 8 - 80%


    Intelligence - 6 - 2%


    Willpower - 15 - 35%


    Vitality - 30 - --% +1


    Racial Trait - The Heart of the Phoenix


    Jor was surprised, but not overly so. The fact that he could get past the limit was ecstatic. But, what would happen if he leveled? The stat was positioned beside the percent symbol may acclimate in the future levels gained, so that gave him hope. Then, what about the other stats that hehadn''t completed? Again, Jor decided to test his theory and put a point in strength.


    J?rmungandr Shesha


    Level 2 - +2


    Class - N/A


    Strength - 8 - 0%


    Endurance - 8 - 80%


    Intelligence - 6 - 2%


    Willpower - 15 - 35%


    Vitality - 30 - --% +1


    Racial Trait - The Heart of the Phoenix


    That... was interesting. The percent gained was lost, and doesn''t seem to accumulate as it did in vitality. A little disheartening, but he''d survive. He had two more points. Best left it saved for the future. He needed to train, then. He needed those stats, and badly. The only way to survive was to maximize his stats at every turn before leveling. But the most important question loomed. How the hell does one level? There wasn''t any experience points bar to notify him that he was close to a level up, as it does normally in games.


    Jor needed to stop thinking the stats as some sort of game. This was the reality.Hisreality. It took him months to achieve another level, and even gaining stats was time-consuming. The chances of his survival were dimming. If he had luck for a stat, it would be in the negative.


    If Jor wanted to survive, he would need to do a lot more than just hunt the weaker ones. He needed to go after the stronger undead. He had to kill the things that roam in the dark. The things that haunt in the dark, like a spider in the corner of his eye. The horror in the dark, a manifestation of fear itself.


    Jor needed to go after the monsters that hunt the undead for sport. He was probably going to die.


    Eventually, he fell into the arms of Morpheus. Nightmares waited for him.

 1.5

    Jorheld his breath before he opened his eyes. It''s been a month since he dedicated to finding the monster in the dark. This was his thirteenthattempt. Nothing. There wasn''t a sign anywhere. So, he tried again.


    The quiet was unnerving. Sometimes, it got to him. The isolation, the solitude. This vast space in the caverns, filled with nothing but giant pillars and rock formations was as unending as the night sky. So, Jor dealt with it the best he could- he meditated, he cried, and he trained. Time was but a fleeting memory in an existence as desolate as his.


    The long hours of staying still ached his back, as he leaned low against the wall. He needed a place well hidden, and with a good cover. Down below, a hundred yards away and much closer to the city than he liked it to be, Jor witnessed a small concentration of undead unsteadily wandering toward the north. A few hundreds of undead variety, some he hadn''t even seen before.


    Fighting them in their numbers was a death sentence. But, that wasn''t what he was here for. Jor had a different target in mind. Something much more precious and far more dangerous. He wondered whether he was out of his mind. To challenge something that may as well be far out of his league. He might as well present his head on a chopping block.


    Hours passed. He stayed where he was, unmoving.


    Jor thumped his fingers, presenting a beat from an old song.


    "Some days I close my eyes and fade away,


    And I fade away,


    That''s just the dark side of me,"


    <div>


    Jor stilled. A flicker.


    There! He could see it, just the barest of outlines shadowed in the darkest of corners. It was tall, easily over seven feet, with skin as black as the muck and mud it to crawled out of. Its flesh didn''t pulse, so much as it throbbed in veiny scaly tendons. Its face was sharp teeth, jaws protected by exoskeletal bone. The eyes were pits of black holes.


    It was long-limbed and had a much longer reach than he did. That was a problem. The bigger problem, he noted, was its weapon. The weapon the monster dragged, scraping against the stone floor, was but a giant slab of iron with the length to match the monster in height.


    What differentiatedthe weapon from any other, wasn''t its ability to cut or any mundanity as that. No. The arms that seemed to crawl out of the sword. Large, muscular arms, skinny arms, even arms that belonged to children. Pale, stricken, dead arms. They were all arms, protrudingout of the iron cleaver as if it were a macabre horror show.


    Jor carefully studied his next opponent, the monster that towered as the apex predator of this world. The lone wolf, seeking out the seemingly unaware undead for a meal, or for sport. Jor didn''t know, but he might find out.


    He crawled out of the cave slowly and picked up the axe he left by his side. The weapon was the very same he gained from killing that zombie, and it might just come in handy. Jor held it close to his chest, as he crawled out of his hiding spot.


    The sudden displacement of his previous occupation escaped him. Vertigo hit him like a ton of bricks, and he could feelhis brain being bounced around inside his skull. He wanted to throw up. Jor slammed into something hard again. His head exploded in pain, and he heard something crack. His ribs. That hurt. A lot.


    Jor lay there, stunned and still. His body felt like it went through a grinder. He could barely move, and he felt blood welling up inside his mouth. He bit his tongue. He was just lucky he hadn''t completely bitten it off. Terrible way to die.


    A pair of barefoot, dark and mangled feet stepped in front of him. The nails were jagged, black and sharp. The heavy breathing was loud. It wasn''t his. He could hear his heart beat a thousand miles a minute. They sounded like drums, only filled with anxiety and fear. Also, he needed to clean his pants. He might have pissed in his boxers.


    Jor turned his face up, to look at the monster that was about to kill him. It was the same monster he spied so far away. Even as hidden as he was, somehow it noticed him. To have found him here, and so fast, left him stunned.


    Those black pits gazed back with not a shred of mercy or humanity.


    "I don''t...," Jor grinned weakly. "I don''t suppose we could talk this out?"


    The monster''s foot slammed down on top of his head. Ah, he''d definitely got a concussion now. Jor tried to lift his head, his hands scraping against the foot. It felt like trying to lift a ten-ton boulder. He might as well be a gentle wind.


    "I haven''t seen a human here in centuries," Its voice was like an echo chamber, but quieter. He heard it like a whisper, carried by something larger, domineering and endless. It also spoke. His language. No, wait. That wasn''t it. Jor understood it, but it wasn''t his native language. "You''ve come a long way down to the bowls of hell."


    Jor, confused, wondered about what that city was. He saw sunlight shafting through the ceiling, with an enormous entrance that led to the exit.


    "The city...," Jor coughed and spat out blood. "The sunlight, I saw there...,"


    "Simply the floor above us," It said, chuckling. Its laughter brought a fresh wave of uneasiness. "Merely a false light. There is no sun, only death,"


    Jor gasped, his mouth gritting with frustration and despair. No. No, no, no! It was supposed to be his freedom, to escape from this hell pit. Heneededto escape. And now, he might just die to a monster.


    "That watch...," Its sudden change of subject was startling, as it was confusing. The realization came to him fast. The monster knewwhat a watch was.Its nonexistent eyes flickered a baleful white. "How did you get here?"


    Its foot lifted off his head, freeing him. Jor dared not move. "I don''t know. I was walking home from school. Then, I fell. All I remember was an old man, waking up. And a bird, a phoenix. I think,"


    The monster grabbed him by the neck and lifted him up. His feet dangled a few feet from the floor. Jortried to breathe as he held onto the scaly arm that held him.Jor felt those fingers tightening around his neck, squeezing him of his life. He was going to die here, just like that.


    He slammed his hand against the arm that held him repeatedly, to no avail.Its cords of muscle was an obstacle he couldn''t get past.His strength was meaningless.


    Then, the hand left his neck. Jor crumbled to the floor, grasping for the lungful of breaths.


    "I''ve been here for a... long time," The monster kneeled before him, its mouth gaping open into a yawn. The stench of his breath nearly choked him out of consciousness. "I''ve been here for as long as I could remember, but I have not forgotten my roots. And I have not forgotten the old man either,"


    Jor froze. "How? I''ve only been here for five, maybe six months,"


    The thing looked down at him, then glanced at the wristwatch. "You''re luckier than I," It turned back to face him. "Time has no meaning here,"


    "You said the old man," Jor hesitated, then pushed on. "I think he did something to me, the old man I mean. He changed me. I just don''t know what, but I could feel it."


    "Yes," It stretched out the word, contempt easily recognizable. "The old god infused me with thechimeric demon. A thing of old and lost to the heavens. It changed me beyond recognizable," Jor stayed still, as its eyes flickered back to him. "The old god learned from his past mistakes, at least,"


    "A god?" Jor was never particularly religious. The idea of praying to a god seemed useless when the things the world needed was something far more than miracles. That the idea of a god who had kidnapped him, for what? An experiment? A lesson? A test? Speculations were all he had, and the more he thought of it, the more he came to hate the old man.


    "A god, yes," It turned back to lift that grotesque and malformed sword. The arms, dozen in all, scraped at the owner''s legs with its nails, breaking and oozing blood. "I suspect the old god is bound, unable to act as it wills. I think this old god is trapped, just like us,"


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    "What about the levels, then? Was that a part of its experiment?"


    The monster shook his head, then stopped. "I would say no, but he has altered yours somehow, made you into a part of something greater. You said you saw a phoenix?"


    Jor nodded.


    "A Phoenix, a mythical, sacred fire-bird that symbolizes rebirth, and renewal in the various mythologies in Arabian, Persian, Greek, Roman, Egyptian, Chinese, Turkish, Indian and Phoenician/Canaanite people," The monster paused, as it continued to ponder. "They are the kings of fire and sky. To see one such here, in this lightless world, means something has changed."


    "How do I escape?" Jor wanted to ask a lot more questions, but this was far more important. It was a fleeting hope, but one that he wished for beyond all others. "Is there a way to leave this world?"


    "You''re in the hundredth level of a dungeon that changes on a daily basis. Its space grows and expands beyond its own control," The monster grunted, growling low. "It''s an unstoppable force of nature, eating up and consuming entire cities and lands from other worlds for sustenance,"


    Jor stared wide-eyed, the feeling of dread growing in the pit of his stomach.


    "This thing, you''re living in, was an oversight gone wrong, meant to hold a god imprisoned. It was hungry, so it acted," Jor felt hope when the monster continued. A bitter, small light of hope. "... Yet, there''s always a way,"


    Jor blinked. The monster loomed over him. "But first, you need to grow stronger. You''re weak as a kitten, and simple zombies could kill you,"


    This time, he felt a different kind of fear grow.


    <div>


    J?rmungandr Shesha


    Level 2 - +2


    Class - N/A


    Strength - 9 - 35%


    Endurance - 15 - 20%


    Intelligence - 9 - 2%


    Willpower - 24 - 35%


    Vitality - 30 - --% +1


    Racial Trait - The Heart of the Phoenix

 1.6

    "How did you know?" The monster turned to him, its brow-less eyes staring. "I mean, how did you know he changed my stats? I haven''t even shown it to you,"


    They have been walking for several miles, yet the undead they had crossed path seemed to avoid them. Which was impossible, since they were nothing more than dead automatons. Yet, these things fled, as if the boogieman had appeared. Thankfully, they didn''t chase after them. The last thing Jor wanted was to kill more undead.


    "A skill calledObserve. It lets me divine yourstats, skills, and abilities," A useful skill if anything. The knowledge it would give would be a blessing before any fights. Though, it would be nice if Jor hadanyskill, to begin with.


    Jor''s steps felt heavy, and his arms ached from the beating he''s receivedfrom the monster. Speaking of which, Jor asked, "What''s your name?"


    "Charlie," Jor stared. The ''Charlie'' grinned widely. "You''d think I would have a name from some exotic location, due to my appearance? A little ironic isn''t it? Considering your name? J?rmungandr Shesha. Nice name. Your parents must''ve loved snakes."


    Jor shrugged uncomfortably. "My dad''s Scandinavians, and my mom''s South Asian. Her last name was Shesha. Dad decided to take my mom''s last name when they married, and named me after the Norse myth, the world serpent."


    The monster grunted.


    "Where are we going, anyway?" Jor looked around, and the environment hasn''t changed one bit. Just one big long stretch of barren rock and more rock as far as the eye could see. Then, something came to mind. "I... don''t suppose you''ve found others like us?"


    The monst- Charlie, shook his head. Jor needed to remind himself to call him Charlie. It was getting tediouscalling him a monster. "Close. No, we''re going to another floor. We''re meeting with someone,"


    Before Jor could react, the hand snaked out from the sword. Its pale hand grabbed his wrist in vice-grip, holding so hard he felt his bones creak. Alarmed, he tried to pull away, grimacing.


    "Don''t resist," Charlie said. Well, ordered. Then, another arm from the sword danced and twitched. Wisps of blue smoke and dark light gathered, then shot forward. Jor stood, stunned. A spell. His eyes gazed back upon the numerous hands that seemed to bulge out from the sword.


    Did all the hands know magic? Or worse, were they all trapped inside that sword somehow? Jor''s eyes dragged back to the monster now facing him fully. Charlie only smiled, its tongue pink and long.


    In front of Jor, space itself seemed to fold upon itself, over and over again. It swirled and widened until an oval portal made of literal shadows shimmered in the air.


    "Let''s go. And hold on tight."


    "... What?"


    Jor was dragged through the portal, though he didn''t resist as much. It was futile to resist, and Charlie was his only chance at escaping this... dungeon. Or whatever they call it.


    It took but a second to feel the cold that seeped into his bones. Then, it was over. Just like that. Jor looked back at the portal, and it collapsed instantly.


    A butterfly landed on his shoulder. He felt grass underneath his feet. It was grass. He looked around, stared in utter awe. The trees were as tall as skyscrapers. The tree trunks were easily as wide and as thick as castles. And when he looked up, he could not see the sky, but the thick leaves that seemed to cover everything.


    "It''s... amazing," It was a forest as thick with life as it was vibrant with the sounds of wildlife. "Where... are we? I''ve been as far as dozens of miles, but everything was the same,"


    "You were on the hundredth floor," Charlie answered. "Now, we''re not,"


    Jor shook his head. "Right... right,"


    "Come along," The pale skinny hand let go of his wrist, and it returned back to dancing and scratching at Charlie''s legs. "It''s only a few miles south of here,"


    "Where exactly are we going?"


    "A city," He said, simply.


    It made sense, he thought. Still, the idea of making a home in this dungeon seemed like a terrible idea. But, what other choices did he have? What choices did anyone have? It''s that, or die in some lawless lands alone. This dungeon must really hate them, to live in the belly of a beast as if they were likened to Zeus, consumed by the Titan, and all because he was afraid of his own children.


    The idea of the dungeon being afraid of them was laughable. It may as well be a god, considering the world they''re in.


    "This area has been dealt with any monsters that make their home here, leaving it a safer area for the inhabitants of the city," Jor closely walked beside him, watching with the very intent that something might kill him. Chances were high that yes, something might kill him. Itwasa surprise, however, that the city dealt with it. "Still, it does not mean the city is safe. Monsters encroach on these lands on a regular basis,"


    Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    Or, maybe not. "Just how big are these dungeon floors?"


    Charlie grunted. "Some are as big as a modern city. Some are infinite, expanding in an endless loop. Some floors cannibalize each other floors or reach into other worlds for consumption."


    Jor inwardly shivered. "I don''t suppose you know the exact number of floors?"


    The guttural laughter sounded unnatural. It sent a chill down his spine. "Creation of new floors occurs every day. It''s a universe unto itself, hidden beneath the veneer of thin reality,"


    When he continued again, it was after a minute of contemplating silence. Jor was glad. He needed time to process that kind of information.


    "I saw the creation of a new floor once. It was the dark. Pitch black, as dark and as an empty as a world without a world. Then, slowly, it built itself up from its very root of Providence," Charlie chuckled, gazing at the palms of his hands. They shook.Was he scared? "It was like watching the beginnings of the big bang, a creation of a world by the hands of an invisible master. It was like watching the sun, as I stood on the surface of Mercury."


    Jor stared. "And youwatchedit?"


    "Iescapedit," He emphasized. "To watch it is to burn and die. I was lucky." Charlie shook his head, then nodded ahead. "We''re here."


    Jor gazed ahead, just as nature parted like curtains to unveil its beautiful gem hidden in the center. "Holy shit..."


    These people had made their homes in the very roots itself.These roots were easily large enough to house hundreds of homes, and that was just one root in a single tree. As he gazed about, almost every root in every tree was occupied, built with grand homes and balconies to show for it.


    "Nearly a million people settle here," Charlie replied. "Numerous races have made their homes, living alongside in order to combat death itself for the sake of survival. Cultures and beliefs clash, as often as they sing and dance with one another."


    The closer they got, the easier it was for him to see the hustle and bustling market built at the root of the center tree. People made way for them. Well, for him. Every single one, man, woman, or child, bowed their heads low. Some cheered, and some nodded respectively. Whatever jobs or activity they were doing, seemed to have been left forgotten.


    But what startled him were that they weren''t all human. Some of them were, certainly. Some of the others, however, were otherworldly pretty, long-limbed, and with pointed foot-long ears. He saw some that were tall, green, burly, tusked, and built like tanks. Then there were dwarves, with thick beards and muscular arms. The lion people, with their golden coats of fur and girth, with their strength and size to easily match the orcs. The green women, with leaves and tree bark growing out of their skin to cover themselves. And there were the winged people, with colours as varied as there were in the visible spectrum.


    Ah, and of course, a red freaking dragon to complete its package. Its sheer size dwarfed everything in its path, its mouth as wide as a small mountain. The dragon made itself home, and it was the tree''s only occupant. An entire tree, just for the dragon.


    "I feel like I just fell into a fantasy game," Jor gulped.


    "This is the reality we face," He said, simply.


    "Where are we going?"


    "There, to the tree up ahead," In the middle of the market square that surrounded it was easily the biggest tree in the area, as well as the tallest. They may as well have named itYggdrasil, the world tree.Entire sets of staircases were carved into the base of the tree, allowing them to walk inside the great entrance. The doors, surprisingly, was not made of wood, but metal. They looked likesteel, but perhaps made of some other material. He didn''t know. He wasn''t some metallurgist.


    The pair of guards that stood by the doors wore heavy plated armour, and he wondered just how they could stand still without falling over like a ton of rock. One was an elf, slim-figured, and beautiful beyond belief. While the other was the lion man, twice Jor''s size and just as wide. He looked like he crushes rocks for a living.


    Then, they had to take the stairs. Jor had to take the stairs of a forty story building, once. He wasn''t a happy camper. This tree, however, easily dwarfed even Dubai''s tallest building.


    This was hell.


    "Just... how tall... is this... fucking building?" By the second hundredth floor, he was breathing hard. Charlie wasn''t even left winded. The bastard just glanced at him amusingly. The guards that escorted them also looked at him with thinly hidden grins. These ones were orcs, the both of them. Even they were less tired, and they were wearing thick platedarmour. Jor gritted his teeth.


    "Two thousand meters," Jor glared at Charlie. "We''re here."


    Jor straightened to his feet as they entered into wide halls. It was beautiful, designed to look similar to Victorian, but with cultural touches from other races. The interior palace hall looked magnificent, with mosaic carved marble floors and numerous enchanted lights above. The golden gentle glow left a homely feel to the grand hall, and not at all glaring or unwelcoming.


    To the side, he could see the entire market that stretched for miles through the grand circular window set into the wall. Painted portraits placed on the walls, and trinkets, couches, chairs, and various other items were placed with reason in mind. This hall was more like a grand office, then the meeting room of some king.


    Wait, were they to meet a king?


    "I didn''t think I would see you again. You had disappeared three years ago, Lord Charlie Ashton."


    Jor turned to face the perfection that walked into the room. Well, the guy looked like he walked out of a digitally enhanced modeling cover magazine, and ran away to live here. Itwas kind of disturbing just how pretty he was. The elves he walked past in the market were ungodly pretty. But this... it was like someone plucked a sun and put it inside him. He glowed. Literally. And so symmetrically perfect, his chin just might cut bullet-proofed glass.


    Charlie ignored him and turned to face Jor. It didn''t escape him that the king looked annoyed by his action. "Jor, I would like you to meet Ainmeldiriel Laththeldorion, the King ofEruiaFalls. Also, an annoying little shit that kept following me as a child,"


    The guard by his sides barely audibly sighed. The other one just seemed to hold his breath.


    The king looked like he was about to explode, if the throbbing vein on his forehead was any indication.


    Jor just kept quiet. It might save his life.

 1.7

    "You''re lucky I don''t have you executed, Lord Ashton," The king''s eyes, a pale gold like tiny lanterns glowed all the brighter. If there was a threat, that was it, thought Jor.


    "As I recall, you have about as much power as a dung heap I stepped on getting here," Charlie grinned, as ugly and horrible as it ever was. "The government exist for a reason. Your job is to make sure corruptiondoesn''t occur. Or, have you dipped into something you shouldn''t have? Shall I investigate, and ensure the passing of my judgment to safeguard the kingdom?"


    The king paled. If that was even possible. The golden hue of his pale features dulled ever so slightly. He looked frightened. Or angered. Those golden eyes narrowed into a pinpoint of twin suns.


    "Watch yourself, Lord Ashton. I''m still the king."


    "Still the little godawfullittle shit I had to teach."


    The pregnant pause felt like thick tension, about to become very unpleasant. Jor just hoped he wasn''t in the middle when everything turned to shit.


    Charlie laughed. The king laughed. Then, they hugged. Jor, bewildered, looked at the odd pair as if they''d grown another head.


    "It has been a long time," Charlie gripped the king by his broad shoulders. "Do you still hunt? I expect to see better results after the last three years has passed,"


    "Alas, no. The bureaucraticwork of a monarch is never-ending," The king answeredbefore he quickly waved to one of the servants. An elf came forth, wearing a servant uniform. "Bring me some of the bottles of vodkas. The best you have. And whatever snacks and food you can scroungeup for the founder of our fair city. Quickly! Go!"


    The elf didn''t waste any time. The servant was gone before the king even finished. Jor was even surprised when the servant didn''t even bother to bow.


    "Wait, vodka?" Jor asked, startled into realization. "As in, actual vodka?"


    The king stopped, then turned to face him with a frown. "Who is this, Charlie? Have you found some lost wayward child to take in?"


    "An unfortunate situation had arisen, one that cannot be ignored or explained," There was a warning undertone in that explanation, which Jor picked up. He had no idea what he was talking about, but if he wanted his mouth shut, all he had to do was ask. "I have come to ask you for a favour,"


    "A favourhe says, from the very hero that brought us all together," The king scoffed, then pointed toward the window, where the great city lay. "If you ask the population to war, they''ll drop whatever it is on hand, and pick up every weapon they could find to satisfy your bloodthirst."


    Charlie smirked. "That won''t be an issue, boy,"Honestly, Jor did, in fact, expected them to drop everything and march off to war. The looks these people gave Charlie were borderline religious and fanatism. The look of respect and worship in every pair of eyes.


    "You are a sun mage of unquestionable abilities," Charlie pointed at Jor. He felt every eye on him, some puzzled, others with the sudden realization that something''s about to change. "You need an apprentice. He''ll be your apprentice."


    The king stilled, surprised. The guards'' eyes bulged, some had their mouths openly gaping open. His eyes took in everything that was Jor, which was notacomfortable experience.Ain.. Aen... something, had a small frown.


    "I''m sure he has potential, but the academy exists for a reason," The king looked concerned.


    "Yes, it exists for a good reason," Charlie grinned. "Teach him for one year, before sending him off to the academy."


    "He''s... a little young, no?" The king looked uncertain. "The academy takes in those that have shown the best aptitude for their gifts. Why not send him to one of the lesser academies? Or, perhaps the military school would best fit him?"


    Charlie chuckled darkly. "How many of your students have survived a floor for six months, alone?"


    This time, the king did look upon him with renewed interest. Jor stopped himself from shuffling about, and didn''t turn away from his inspection.


    "Six hundred years ago, you have trained me," King Ainmeldiriel slowly said, as he turned to face Charlie. "You could have taken him in, and trained him yourself. Why have you given me this charge, now?"


    Charlie merely shrugged. "Cause I''m busy,"


    The king sighed.


    "And, he''ll learn best from you," Charlie crossed his arms across his chest. "He''ll need a more peaceful place to get better acquainted with, since he''ll be living with you for a while."


    The king looked resigned. And pained. "What level is he?"


    "Level two," Charlie answered, showing neither hesitation or reluctance.


    The king looked surprised. "He''s been living in a floor for six months, and only gained a level? How in the world did he survive?"


    "Wits, cowardice, and stupidity," Jor sent a chilling glare at Charlie. Though the act did nothing. Charlie''s back was as stoic as ever.


    "The academy only takes in those with level ten, or higher. Some exceptions are made for lower levels, but usually only due to their prodigal ability and young age. He''s old for a human, and has an exceptionally low level."


    That stung. Yes, he''s a low level, yes, but he didn''t have to point that out so blatantly. Or with so much contempt.


    "Which is why, I''m asking you to apprentice him, boy," Charlie grunted. "A simple matter, a year perhaps. Two, at most, before sending him off to the academy,"


    "I see...," The king pursed his lips. Jor could practically feel the running gears turning inside his head. "The class hasn''t been decided yet, not until level five at least. Are you asking me to give him the Sun class? It is a divine prestigious class. Even my daughter hasn''t inherited my title,"


    Charlie remained quiet.


    The king sighed. "I see...," He sighed again."The things I do for you...,"


    The monster grinned. "That''s the spirit. I''ll be back soon in a few years'' time,"


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    "You''re not staying?" At Charlie''s negative response, the king only glared back. "It''s basically become a tradition for the city to celebrate the day of your return.Everyreturn, before you leave. Youwillstay for a day, at least. Thatisan order,"


    Charlie grunted. "Fine, but in the meantime, I''m going to raid the shopping center."


    He was gone, leaving Jor alone with a contemplative king, and an interested pair of guards.


    "So, seeing as Lord Ashton failed to provide me with your name, I shall ask." The king said, with a raised delicate blond brow.


    It took a few seconds before Jor realized the king was waiting for a response. "J?rmungandr Shesha, sir,"


    "You shall answer me as my lord, sire, or your majesty. Understood?" The voice was stern. There held a dangerous edge, lurking behind it like a star about to swallow a world. There was no doubt in his mind the man could utterly destroy him. It reminded him of Charlie, and their likeness, despite their outward appearance. They were far too similar to his liking.


    So, Jor did what he did best. Hebent over and took it. "Yes, my lord."


    Ow. That hurt. That hurt so bad he might have twisted a gut. He was a royalist, dammit! His loyalty belonged to the Queen of England! Yes, he was Canadian. Yes, they were on an entirely different continent. But his principles matters dammit! To bow to a foreign king, even one as... possibly divine (unfortunately) as this man, with a sun literally shining out of his ass, and probably shitting gold, too, had left him with no other choice butto bow.


    Hell, if he was a foreign diplomat, which he wasn''t, would have meant something if he bowed. It was a sign of respect, a show of courtesy to a foreign power as possible future allies and talks of trade of their respective economy. This! This felt like throwing away his nationality and submitting to a foreign will.


    Jor grimaced.


    "You are displeased. Tell me, why?"


    "I may have hurt been hurt from my previous encounter with the undead." He lied as smoothly as he did when he went down on his girl. "A most unwelcome opportunity presented itself when my back was turned. The undead took it,"


    The king stared at him for a while, possibly thinking of ways to dump his sorry ass to some other poor bastard.


    "The hold hosts some of the best healers the city produces. The hospital shall take a look at you. Afterward, my aide will find you, and direct you towards your new home for the next few years," The king glared at him, his eyes certainly no less intimidating as Charlie''s. "You shall give me your dedication, your absolute passion, for the duration of your time under me. I shall brook no arguments from you. You listen. If I want you to jump out of this window, you shall do so without a second thought."


    Jor stared.


    "Am I understood?"


    Oh, fuck! He was in boot camp!


    "Yes, sire!"


    Fuck! Fuckety Fuck! Charlie you bastard! I want to go back. He had more peace and quiet in his little hole in the cave then he did here! And, yes, he missed people. But this wasnothow he wanted to come back to civilization. The last thing he expected was a demanding teacher with a stick up his arse. He wanted a warm bed, with his girl by his side, and his dog. Not... this!


    "Good," The king glanced at the guards. "Take him away to the hospital, then send for my aide. No doubt, he''s already have heard of the returned hero and on his way here,"


    The guards'' feet clamped together in a clang, and their right fist beat against the left side of their chests. "Your majesty! By your leave!"


    The king nodded. "Go."


    One of the orc guards held me by the shoulder as he was led me out of the hall. Away from the king, all Jor felt was a relief.


    "You did good, kid," The guard said, grinning. "You got a good head on your shoulders. Would be a waste to chop that off."


    Jor felt the sweat cling to his shirt on the back of his neck. "Yes, sir..."


    The hell kind of world was this, that they''d chop someone''s head off without due process? It gave him a new reason as to why this was an entirely different world, where rules are as different as night and day. And yet, they established a city in a dungeon where the rule of the law was survival itself.


    So, it was with a renewed effort that strengthened his sense of self, that Jor looked ahead. If he was to live here, he wanted to do good by these people, who had managed to carve out a semblance of peace for themselves in the belly of the beast. They brought prosperity to these lawless lands, and it was something to be applauded for. Not looked down upon. He couldn''t spit on that, not after what he went through in the undead floor.


    He''ll survive. More than that, he''ll find a way to escape the dungeon.


    <div>


    J?rmungandr Shesha


    Level 2 - +2


    Class - N/A


    Strength - 9 - 35%


    Endurance - 15 - 20%


    Intelligence - 9 - 2%


    Willpower - 25 - 95%


    Vitality - 30 - --% +1


    Racial Trait - The Heart of the Phoenix

 1.8

    "A toilet," Jor whispered aloud, awed. Tears freely fell down his cheeks. His eyes then found the sink and the tap.Plumbing.The idea of plumbing seemed alien to a primitive people living in tree houses. Where was all the water coming from? Were there pipes installed inside the tree, flowing down like some great network, to connect it to a lake? Whatever it was, it was progressing as far as he was concerned.A civilizationof nearly a million people had to bring something to the table.


    "Yes, some artificers and engineers figured out a way to connect it to a lake a few miles from here," The healer,Silanna, commented. She was ared-headed elf of statuesquebeauty. "It was some fifty years ago, and already it has led to fewer diseases and illness we''ve had to treat."


    "Is it connected to the entire city?"


    "Oh yes, very much so," Silanna giggled. Her smile widened, showing pearlyteeth behind those rose-red lips.


    Jor''s heart went aflutter.


    She walked up to the toilet and flushed it. The water swirling around and around as it got sucked through the pipes until it became crystal clear water once again. "And the best part is? All of it, once flushed, goes to anentirely different floor."


    Jor raised a brow in surprise. "An entire floor as the city''s own personal trash heap. I''d like to say I didn''t see that coming, but it''s only sensible."


    "Oh yes, very."


    Silanna led him out of the washroom and into the hospital. Dozens of healers were about, going through their motions. The hospital itself was a remarkably clean environment, though slightly bland. The environment was looked after by the sorceries that maintained this place by the uses ofprestidigitation spells, as explained by the healer.


    There weren''t any patients here, as far as he could tell. A few young looking trainees were being taught, with holographic runes and glyphs dancing in the air. The anatomy of various species being shown and tagged in various details.


    "Seems a little... empty, for a hospital, no?" He sat down on a bed, just like the dozens lined up by the creamy white walls. The bed was soft, and the sheets were silky.


    "This is only reserved for the royal family, but since there are only two members of the family...," Silanna shrugged, then she started to inspect him like any other doctor he''s ever visited. Though,the dancing magical lights were new. "We rotate with the other hospitals so we don''t waste our time here,"


    "Huh...," Jor hummed as he stayed still, watching the lights enter through his skin and out the other. It took another fifteen minutes before she came to a stop. He was releaved when the poking and prodding stopped altogether.


    "Well, we''re done," Silanna nodded to herself. "There''s nothing that seems to be a problem, though you would have to eat more. Besides that, you''re a pretty healthy human,"


    "Speaking of human, is that what your king is? Human, I mean," Jor took his chance. It seemed like the best time to come up with the question. The king didn''t have pointed ears.


    "You''re partly right. He''s half-elven," Silanna gestured him to follow, and soon he was dogging her steps down the hall. "His father was the elven king, while his mother was the daughter of a government official,"


    He had a lot more questions about that.


    Eventually, she led him toward a waiting area. A simple room, with chairs and sofas to sit on when waiting for family or friends. A coffee table sat in the middle, where a few hardcovered books lay.For a hospital that belonged to the royal family, it was incredibly spartan and uninspiring. And there, sitting on one of the couches, seemingly having fallen asleep, was the same orc that probably had no qualms about chopping his head off.


    "The king''s aide will be here shortly, so you can wait here," Silanna nodded respectfully. "It was nice meeting you, Jor. Have a pleasant day."


    Then, she was gone.


    Jor turned to face the sleeping orc, undecided whether he should let him sleep or kick him awake. He sat on the sofa instead, then picked up a book. It was a collection of children''s tales printed in an actual paper, not parchment. As he read further, it seemed like the writer wanted to collect tales and myths from the many races of people and cultures brought together.


    "So you''re the mysterious boy that''s been on everyone''s lips," Startled, Jor looked up from the book. A lion man, wearing rich flowing robes of red and blue, with a large silver medallion hanging around his neck. He was larger than even the sleeping orc. "Come along now, we''ve got a lot to talk about,"


    Jor barely got to his feet before the man (lion-man?) left through the door. He quickly ran to catch up with him.


    "My name is Hagan Charmenjo, the aide to the king. You''ll address me as Mr. Charmenjor, or sir, if you will," They walked quickly, as he listed out his future responsibilities. "You''ll be expected to wake before five in the morning,"


    Jor didn''t mind. He was a light sleeper, and the floor he had been living in had hardened him for the possible encounters while he slept. It happened twice, despite all his precautions.


    "You''ll be provided clothing to fit your size. Specializedchefs will be providing you with breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Your diet will be strictly regulated. You so much as lick a sweet, I''ll have you flogged," Jor gulped. "You''ll be attended to by an aide of your own. Of course, just because you have one of your own, does not mean you can order him about. He''s there to orderyouin my stead. He''s my voice and my hands. You so much as step out of bounds, I will know about it. The consequences will not be pleasant."This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    The low predatorial growl was enough of a threat.


    Those blue eyes barely glanced down at him, before looking ahead. Jor wondered, just for a second, whether he should just leave. The thought of escaping this floor was utterly impossible, he realized. He didn''t even have any clue how to go about doing that. The way they came here was through a portal. It might take a portal to do the same.


    After the winding halls, they stopped in front of a door. Hagan took out a key from the folds of his pocket, unlocked the door and pushed it wide open.


    He stared.


    It was a broom closet. Jor had a bigger space in a cave. It had a small bed barely his size, and the materials were barely fit for abeggar. Jor resisted a sigh.


    "The king has seen fit to take over the responsibility of taking in an apprentice, and the responsibilities of maintaining a kingdom now fall upon me," Hagan clasped his hands behind him, looking down on him with contempt. "You are the first, and only apprentice to the king himself. You are... a surprise. The preserver himself vouched for you,"


    "Preserver?" Jor spoke for the first time.


    "Lord Ashton, of course," Hagan had that hero worship look to his eyes. "He''s been our guardian since the inception of our country. He''s the hero with far too many titles and far too many accomplishments. Frankly, I have no idea what he sees in you,"


    Jor would have protested if he had the energy for it.


    "Is that all,sir?" The cold biting tone of his voice surprised even him. Hagan quieted, giving him that intimidating stare again.


    "You are free for today. There''s a pouch of monies you can spend on for today in the market," Hagan sneered, his teeth sharp as any predator. "Be grateful. Enjoy yourself, for today, is the last day of your freedom. Tomorrow, you shall start a new day of your new life,"


    Hagan then pivoted, then stalked out of his sight. Jor sighed. He stepped into his room and locked the door behind him. It was smaller than he expected. It didn''t even have a closet, and he suspected it reallywasa broom closet. The pouch was there, with golden coins by the dozens. At least fifty of them.


    A small device sat on a small nightstand. It told the time, with some sort of crystal to power it with magic. It was six o''clock. Soon, the day''s about to be over, and he''ll wake up to a nightmare.


    He fell on top of the bed, groaning in the sheer pleasure of having something soft to sleep on. Oh sure, it was itchy and irritating, but it was abed.An actual bed. One that he had longed for in the long months of surviving in the dark.


    Who was he kidding? Jor was happy. He was just happy that he was back in a civilization. There''s plumbing, people, and a roof over his head. He''s also apprenticed under a king. Granted, he''s an arse of epic proportions, and his aide seemed to follow that trend. Still, not anyone here could say that they''ve been taken under the tutelage of the king himself.


    Which brought to question, just exactly what was the Sun class, and how does one go about getting a class? Could he choose some other class? It wasn''t as if he even wanted it in the first place. He was a fighter, not some spell flinging mage. Although, the idea of flinging fireballs seemed kind of useful.


    Jor was going to need a list of questions to ask before the week''s over. Hopefully, the answers are forthcoming. This dungeon certainly wasn''t going to provide any, and he doubted neither was the king''s aide. Hopefully, his own secretary might help him out. He wondered who his secretary would be. Would he or she be a lion person? Or, would he be an orc or a gruff dwarf with a stiff personality? A human, maybe? Or one of those winged people.


    How does a winged person walk through a door, anyway? Must be mighty inconvenient for them. They must have special accommodations for all the things they needed to access. The government must be doing well, then. Still, the poor bird people.


    Fatigue caught up to him, as Jor slowly closed his eyes.


    He fell. There, in the darkness, he saw it. The bird on fire. The Phoenix: The kings of the fire and wind. Its feathers were a volcanic red, with a tinge of black and gold. Its large eyes, piercing gold and glowing like stars, glared down upon him as a mighty god.


    Then, it raised its head and the Phoenix screamed.


    Its piercing cry went up, shattering the darkness. Flames came upon him like a firestorm, its heat unbearable. It fire seemed to encompass everything, the very world seemed to be swallowed up in a tide of its power and might. It felt like a natural force of nature, powered by the supernatural divinity from the heavens.


    The flames came. The fires enveloped him, burning him. It burnt away his skin. The flames seeped into his veins and enraptured his bones. It crawled further, into his soul and spirit.Shewas angry. So very angry. But, so was he. And he shared that anger, a duel synchronization between two souls.


    When Jor woke up, he was sweating profusely. His breath was shallow, and his throat hurt.


    The knock on the door startled him to full wakefullness.


    Jor glanced at the time and groaned. He must have slept for the entire day and night. It was four in the morning, and no doubt his new aide was not going away. The knocking only continued to insistently knock away, like an irritating fly.


    Still, he got up, ready to face a new day in his new life.


    J?rmungandr Shesha


    Level 2 - +2


    Class - N/A


    Strength - 9 - 35%


    Endurance - 15 - 45%


    Intelligence - 9 - 32%


    Willpower - 26 - 5%


    Vitality - 30 - --% +1


    Racial Trait - The Heart of the Phoenix

 1.9

    "So, you''re my... aide?"


    He was near his age, as far as he could tell. A human, dark-haired, and wearing robes similar to Hagan. Though, much less extravagant and more... everything. A medallionof a carved bronze depiction of a sun hung around his neck. Though, of less significance than the king''s aide himself.


    There was a constipated look about him, with his furrowed brows and thin lips. Dark skinned, thick tangled curly hair, and dark eyes. As far as Jor knew, he looked like a typical human from his city. And he felt pretty happy. His grin must have been obvious. His aide did not look impressed.


    The aide doesn''t say anything. He simply looked Jor up and down as if seeing something questionable, and saddled with as if it were a punishment.


    "Ahappenstance offortuitous occasion," Jor raised a brow. Who talked like that? "My name is Agis Ballenbrin. I''m to be your aide for the duration of your stay here," He said it with such a clipped tone, it might have cut steel.


    Agis the aide brought out a clipboard, then ticked something off. "Your first business is to the showers. It is ready for your arrival."


    Jor thought, well, it was just the showers. The last thing he expected was to be stripped and blasted with a water spell from some hard-assed soldierthat belonged to a grinning orc. Guess which one. Nude, angry, and chilled to the bone, the servants came upon him like silent assassins. Four in all, with two men and women. Elves and humans, respectively.


    They scrubbed and cleaned him so thoroughly, he was surprisedhis skin had stayed intact.He was helpless and humiliated, and whatever sense of decency he had, his hands clutched onto his crotch to hide away whatever dignity he could spare.


    They dressed him in simple white cotton pants and shirt, along with high-quality leather boots. It all looked so clean Jor felt terrified of just touching it, lest he dirty it.


    Soon, he was marched toward the hall, where he met the king the last time. And there he was, as annoyingly pristineas ever in an ungodly morning. Why he was up this early in the morning, Jor had no idea. He may as well try and reason with a cat, for all the answers he might get. Trouble was allthat would follow.


    Jor stood before king Ainmeldiriel, quiet as a shivering fawn before a great predator. The king seemed to be surrounded by a great many papers littered around him in great stacks. He was writing... something. When he finished it, he put the pen away (yes, an actual pen) and turned to face him as if he were addressing a prisoner.


    To be fair, Jor felt like a prisoner, with the guards by either side of him, and his aide scrutinizing him like a meat about to be slaughtered. He... probably was.


    "Before lord Ashton left," The king started, as he steepled his fingers together. "I promised him I would make you strong,"


    The king''s eyes bored into his own with the weight of a monarch, and all the responsibilities that came with it. "When I make a promise," He softly said, serenely," I intend to make it happen, whatever it takes."


    Jor refused to look intimidated. This was more than just an interview. He just hadn''t figured out just what that is.


    "You have options," He leaned back against the high-backed armchair. "You will choose a certain future class you wish to attain. We will provide you with a list of what is possible to attain, before your eventual maturity of level five. Before that happens, however, we must know whatkindof class you wish to head towards, so that we may move forward with your training,"


    The king''s aide stepped forward, then. The towering lion-man was more... subdued, in the presence of his king. "There are general classes, such as warrior, healer, druid, wizard, and so on and so forth,"


    The aide handed him a small booklet, which was basically a compendium of classes he could choose from.


    "However, since this is an unusual situation," Here, the aide gave the king a long look, whereas the king returned with a stony gaze of his own. "You have been given options of choosing the more exotic classes, including the king''s own Sun class." The aide gestured toward the booklet. "We''ve compiled a list of all the classes; rare, exotic, or forbidden, we''ve managed to covet and study for the last few hundred years,"


    Jor spoke up, bursting with curiosity. "I thought the... stats will choose for me, or at least give me options?"


    "It does, certainly." The aide replied. "However, we have specialists that could circumvent such a process to ensure the individual get''s what he wants,"


    "Specialists?"


    "The Architect is a specialized class, rare and highly sought after. Their ability to manipulate the system is a powerful tool wecould not go without, though limited as they are," Answered Hagan.


    "I... see," Jor left it at that.


    The king spoke this time. "We''re giving you an opportunity only a few could speak of, child," Jor could already understand the consequences of his failure. "You will have an entire day to consider your option. Choose wisely."


    Seemingly dismissed, the guards led him away.


    Jor, stuck in his own thoughts as he contemplated the small book in his hands, that he hadn''t realized he was already at his door. His new home. The guards having long left, he was slightly surprised to see his aide still here.


    "Can you advice me?" In a tone that sounded so small, Jor could hear his own terror.


    Whatever Agis felt toward Jor, his hard eyes softened. "Of course, it is why I''m here for. I am here to serve," He gestured toward the door. "Shall we?"


    Jor hesitated. He opened the door wide open. Now that he thought about it, he didn''t even have a lock, did he? Getting to the matter at hand, his new home wasn''t exactly the best place to conduct a discussion about the intricacies of the importance of classes for his future career. The single most important decision of his life. And Jor thought choosing a university was bad...


    "Your breakfast will be ready soon," Agis didn''t seem to be uncomfortable with the tiny space. He looked even downright comfortable. "The chefs have been notified of your lack of nourishment. Highly leveled classes of chefs shall be providing you with the best magical ingredients available in the market, necessary for growth, health, and stat increases to help bring you back to nominal levels,"


    Jor stared.


    Agis didn''t seem to notice. "Since you are simply a human, you will be provided with an alchemical potion. you are expected to drink it every week," Here, Agis brought out a small vial of golden liquid. It looked... well, it looked like a soft drink. There wasn''t a glow to it to indicate that it was magical.


    "And that potion is...?" Jor asked, his baffled expression clearly expressive, as he took the small vial. Agis seemed completely oblivious as he inspected the small chair by the bed, and took the seat. Jor even bothered with the slight insult to his... race? No, he wasn''t.


    "Longevity potion,"


    Jor stared. "... You''re kidding."


    "Humanity that has inherited the ability to level has been gifted with potions made from the lesser philosopher stone," Agis nodded toward the potion. "The human race is a short-lived one, even with medicine and magical potions to increase their lifespans by a number of factors,"


    Jor shook his head. "I''m guessing having levels is very important to the society?"


    "We live in a dungeon. The danger is constant, and war is inevitable," Agis grimaced. "It''s the way of life. A population as large as ours, we produce only a quarter of levelers possible to help defend our fair kingdom against threats that only seems to grow."


    "And human levelers with longer life would be far too useful to let them die of old age, At least, not without a fight," Jor concluded. "I figured living in a dungeon would have produced more people capable of leveling?


    Yes, slowly but surely. The steady population of levelers is rising, and that can only be a good thing."


    "But it''s not enough," Jor realized where he was going. "Even without Charlie''s recommendation, the king would still have made sure I was helped in the best way possible, to a lesser extent I imagine,"


    "Absolutely," Agis directed toward the list Jor had in his hands. "That list contains a compendium of classes accumulated from decades of study and research. Whatever you choose, the king intends to bring out your potential, even should you prove otherwise."


    And indeed, the book did contain quite the detailed report on various classes. General classes were listed, of course. Yet, there were the exotic classes, such as the Sun class, the Elemental Pugilist, and even something as vague as the Hero class. Then, there were the forbidden classes such as the Necromancer, which dances with the dead. The Warlock class who dealt with demons, and even some classes that go into the compelling of the mind.


    "This is... why go such lengths for me?"


    "Because the saint asked the king for help," Agis paused. "A thousand years he has helped preserve our home from utter disaster, external or domestic. Not once he has asked for help. Whatever gifts the city awarded him with, outrageous or extravagant, went utterly untouched."


    Jor leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms.


    "Then, three years later, our savior arrives with a lost child for a simplefavour," Agis grinned, perhaps for the first time, Jor had seen him. "The king would have given him the city if it kept his people safe. Instead,you were given to him. And he intends to make you the best of the best, even if it means sacrificing his own resources in making you strong."


    Jor didn''t know how to feel about that.


    "I... see."


    Agis took to his feet and pointed to the book. "Take your time. You still have a day to figure out what you want," Just when Agis was about to twist the doorknob, Jor''s words stopped him.


    "I already know what I want,"


    "Oh?" Curiosity glaringly obvious within Agis'' eyes.


    "I''ve been stuck surviving in a floor for too many months, and I learned to survive the best I can with what I had on hand," Jor uncrossed his arms and stared back at him with a determined expression. "A good steel is as good as any other.Swords, axes, hammers, lances, and spears. I''ve used it all,"


    "Ah...," Agis looked about ready to protest, perhaps for himself, or for Jor''s decision. "This will be your chance to become something special in a society that views such a phenomenon as something of a miraculous event. Perhaps even the work of the gods. You would be willing to throw it all away, even the Sun class from the king himself, for something so mundane?"


    Jor smiled. He remembered, then, of the dream he had. The bird on fire, ferocious and undeterred. "Yeah, even if it means throwing away an opportunity of a lifetime."


    "Well..., let''s get started on your orientation, then," Agis replied with a smile.

 Interlude - Agis Ballenbrin

    Agis thought he understood the new addition to his duties quite well. Jor wasn''t particularlyimpressive, as far as his first impression went. And, neither was he as strong as even the weakest leveled student in the lesser academies either. So, what did the saint see in someone so... pedestrian?


    "Are you absolutely sure? Surely you can change his mind?" The king wore a surprised expression.


    He bowed low. "Forgive me, sire. He was quite insistenton his chosen class. There was nothing I, or anyone, save perhaps the saint himself, could change his mind."


    "Yes, but a Warrior class?"


    Agis nearly winced. The Warrior class was a generic class, which was the most common class among the class population. They were the frontline assault, and by no means were they weak in both skill or ability. Nazthrod Golbaag, the orc of legendary martial combat of the Warrior class himself, has one of the highest leveled classes in the kingdom. He was one of the few to have reached above level fifty, a feat which could be counted on two hands in the entire city.


    And yet, it was still a common enough class. Jor had a once in a lifetime opportunityto have chosen a more powerful class, which gave far more options in acquiring both skills and attributes that bordered on the mythical. Of course, evenifJor had chosen one such class, there was still the distinct possibility that the class might reject him, even with the help of an Architect to guide the process. Violently.


    Who knows, thought Agis. Perhaps, Jor might even attain a subclass. As ridiculously rare as that is...


    Agis internally sighed.


    "Sire, we could always let one of the Warriors train the boy," Hagan looked like he had this conversation nearly a hundred times with the king, and had gotten nowhere. "Surely you do not have to waste time on a boy that does not wish to follow in your footsteps."


    The king abruptlytook to his feet and walked to stand before the great windows, gazing down upon the sprawling market with a frown. "Lord Ashton asked me for a favor. I will not refuse such a request,"


    A beat of silence followed. "The Aaos S¨ª. How has King Oberonreacted to the news of the Lord Ashton''s return?"


    "They''re laying low, sire," Hagan replied with a slow grin. "Their spies have gone to ground. They''ll be making less trouble for some time now,"


    "And... the Monarchia Daemonum? " Agis suppressed a shiver. "How has the... fair Queen Mother reacted to the news?"


    "Quiet, as far as we can tell," Hagan crossed his arms behind his back. "They have closed their floor completely from any outside interference. Should we attempt to infiltrate, I''m afraid it would only end in disaster."


    "I see...," As far as Agis was concerned, he would be glad if that certain floor was closed for eternity. "Have they taken notice of the boy?"


    "Most certainly. They''ve had an interest in the boy the second the pair entered the city. Our spies confirmed my theory. I have no doubt they''ll try something once tensions ease and our guard is relaxed. Be they the fae, or the demon queen,"


    "I suppose it''s only a matter of time before Lord Ashton leaves our fair city once more." The king sighed. "The boy will be a target for the rest of his life, it seems. Either Lord Ashton made a terrible mistake in bringing in the boy so publically, or made a risky gamble."


    Agis had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. His instincts wererarely wrong, but to be proven right... well, he certainly wished he was wrong.


    "The SR&ED division''s newest proposal... we''ve rejected it about a month ago, yes?"


    Hagan instantlyfocused on the king, looking both alarmed and... dare he say it? Fearful? He had a right to be.


    Agis has heard of this particular department within the government.SR&ED.Scientific Research and Experimental Development. A secretive division consisted of the most unprincipled and amoral group of individuals that had come together. Their goal was simple. Power, with the sole intent of attaining power for the sake of the kingdom.Regardless of costs. It was an ugly division, one Agis wished to never interact within his lifetime.The damage they could do, if left unchecked, would be catastrophic.


    "Sire, it willkill him," Hagan said. "Evenshouldthe experiment succeed, the chances of the boy survivingwould be slim during the recovery period. Should he die... I shudder to think what the preserver would do to you,"


    "He heals fast,"


    "Sire?"


    "Lord Ashton informed me of his ability to miraculously... resurrect, from death," The king looked just as surprised as Agis felt."Besides, should the procedure prove too much for the boy, the saint will not care,"Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    "... Sire, need I remind you-,"


    The king was a prideful man, but to cross the saint was arrogantand foolish. Agis would have interviewed, if not for his lowly status.


    "I know the history of my family hubris,Hagan!" The king snapped out. The hall warmed, as the glow around the king grew more obvious. Agis felt uncomfortably hot. "Lord Ashton put my family to his sword. For that, I have no hatred for what he had done. He did his duty. My family was drunk on power and corruption. They could not be excused for the suffering they have caused, and I can only spit upon their grave."


    Seemingly calmed down, the king inhaled a large breath of air. Slowly, he released it. "Even my daughter was given barely a scant history of the failings of her grandparents. She learned, if not from me, then from the academy."


    The king turned to face Hagan with a decision already made. "Lord Ashton never took in a child, even those with incredible potential within this city. And yet, since the inception of our kingdom, he came before us with a favor for a child not born in this city. This child is special, even I can see it. And there''s areasonmy mentor chose him. And if the boy isanythinglike him..."


    Agis paled. Gods and curses! He never thought of such implications.


    The saint was special in a way that was beyond even the highest classed levels within the city. There was plenty of speculation and rumors that the saint''s level was above that of even ninety, which was unheard of in all the history of the kingdom. Even their enemies lacked such a powerful individual. And yet, if the boy had the same potential as the saint, the power he could possess would be limitless. Not only that, but the king has a chance to influence the boy to his side. By gods, even Agis has access to him. No wonder the king seemed so desperate.


    "Even so, sire, he is still too weak to go through with the procedure," Hagan replied. If Agis didn''t know any better, he thought he detected a hint of frustration in his tone. "The boy''s only level two. The chances of his death are too high to risk this,"


    "Should he level now, it would only make the surgery that much more difficult." The king''s tone was hard, this time. His tolerance for his aide had now reached his limit."My decision has been made, Hagan. See to it that the division is informed of their newest patient."


    Agis tensed when the king''s eyes locked on to him. "You''re not a fool, boy. Speak outside of this hall, and I''ll have you charged with treason. Understood?"


    "Perfectly,sire," Agis bowed low, stiffly.


    "Good," Hagan had already left, when Agis straightened his shoulders. "Tell the boy everything we''ve discussed. Privately, of course. I want you to act as his spy, and gain his trust. Then, await my call."


    "Of course," Only Agis'' training as an aide did he not stutter in confusion. He was to be a spy for the boy? No, he was expected to spy for the king as well.He hadno idea what the king''s plan was, but he will do as his king bid."But, everything... sire?"


    The king chuckled. "Of course, mister Ballenbrin. I''m not so foolish as to put my kingdom at risk, all for my foolish pride. I''ll make no enemy of the boy."


    "Sire," Knowing when he was dismissed, Agis bowed once more, before hurrying out of the hall.


    He felt a bead of sweat trickle down his neck. This was above and beyond his duties. Hagan assigned him to take care of a potential academy student, not the chosen of Lord Ashton. He knew this, of course, when he was handed the detailed report of the boy. He just hadn''t quite realized how important Jor was until this very meeting.


    If he failed in his duty, he could kiss goodbye to whatever future career he may have had. He''ll be working in a dead-end career as a librarian. Or worse, executed. Agis shuddered.


    When he found him, Jor had just finished eating his breakfast. If the empty plates on the floor were any indication, he ate well.


    "The chefs really know how to cook," Jor replied, as he drank from a glass filled with a golden-yellow liquid. There was awe in his voice, as he inspected his hands. That stopped Agis in his tracks. "I feel amazing...,"


    Agis recognized it as a highly sought after fruit.The eldercloud mango was a rare fruit, naturally grown in the deeper sections of this very floor. They were, unfortunately, far too close to where one of the bosses of this floor rests. Once consumed, the effects wouldreinvigorate the health and mana in full and cleanses away any deficiencies, such as scars, illnesses or diseases (magical or mundane), and even malignant cancerous tumors. Only the most dangerous of curses and diseases of the higher levels could overcome the fruit''s healing properties.


    Unfortunately, to cultivate and grow such precious fruits takes every hundred years or so. In the early rise of their kingdom, a number of farmers were dedicated to growing these precious fruits. Then,the Sunset kingdom agreed to a trade agreement with the fae, which had been in perpetuity since the beginning reign of their first king.One that the government has been trying to put a stop to, since... well, forever. The fruit was simply too precious.


    Still, the money that comes from exporting such fruits brings in hundreds of thousands of golden talis to their kingdom. It gave the king the monetary funds to expand on whatever operations he needed.The fact that Jor was eating one of such a fruit showed just how far he was willing to go, to not only earn the boy''s trustbut to please the saint.


    The goofy smile on Jor clearly showed just how ignorant he really was of what he had been given. Still, the effects of the fruit were as clear as day. There was a growing constitution to him, giving strength to those once sunken cheeks and baggy eyes. His normally pale-brown skin tone returned to a healthy golden bronze. His once limp and messy dark hair looked healthier, silkier. The once unsteady gait steadied, and his slightly shaking hands stopped.


    "What is it you want to talk about?"


    Agis returned his gaze with a slight frown.


    "You''re here. It''s been hours since you''ve left me alone," Jorset the glass down on the nightstand. "Clearly you want to talk about something important?"


    And so, Agis explained of the happenings of the kingdom.

 2.1

    The man he met was a full human. His Adonis features gave him a charismatic charm, and the light brown hair and dark brown eyes gave little away behind those rectangular spectacles. Even his gentle smile was comforting. For all intents and purposes, this man looked to be a kind, and trustworthy stranger.If not for Agis, he would never have known that the fair-skinned, Britishaccented man was the head of a shady organization that will ultimately decide his fate in the next few days.


    "You consented to the king, then?"FrederickCunningham asked, his lips curling up into a small smile.


    It had been a day since he was explained the unclearexperimentaltreatment he would have to go under. When Jor asked for further explanation, the king sent him the man responsible for all of it.


    "Only preliminary tests?" Jor shifted slightly. The high-backed chair was comfortable, but the conversation was much less so. The garden they were inside was leveled on one of the larger branches above, on another tree. The spectacular panoramic view of the lake below was breathtaking. There were couples and families on little boats, enjoying their summer afternoon.


    Fredericklifted the small china cup to his lips for a sip of his tea. He then gently placed the cup back onto the saucer. "Of course. I would like to see first the screening results, before the surgery to be even considered. Even an optimal body would not survive, should your body reject the procedure."


    "And if I passed?"


    "Then, with your consent, of course, we''ll proceed with the surgery," He said with such a gentle smile, he couldn''t help but liking him. He was polite, honest, and did not look at all shady. Which brought to question, what was he hiding behind that facade?


    "What will the... surgery do to me?" No one had quite explainedthatparticular bit.


    Frederick bent to take out a small file from within his satchel. When he placed it in front of him, he said, "I suppose the king or Hagan did not explain to you."


    The red file was plain, but when he flipped it open, he was startled to see the title printed in a thick bold crispy font: Sub-Class.


    "Subclass?" Jor asked, puzzled.


    "Indeed," He said. "The subclass is a rare function, so rare that one ina hundred thousand is capable of actually achieving it, either through luck, genetics, or fate. We are hoping to change that.Our sole goal is to artificially inject the subclass feature of a respective subclass within you. If successful, the treatment will be more common for the newer generation of classes in the future,"


    Aside from how ambitious that sounded, Jor asked, "Are subclasses so important to have?"


    Frederick chuckled. Jor detected no hint of mocking. "The achievement of attaining duality of classes imprinted upon your very spirit garners the attention of the king himself. Imagine the potential? A Warrior with the mightest of arms and powers of a Hunter class at your disposal would make for a valuable soldier. A high enough level would be nearly an unstoppable war machine in the field of battle. Those two classes I listed, consider every man and woman with both their main class and subclass, whatever they may be, bolstered the defenses of our kingdom?"


    Jor imagined it. The defenses of their floor would never be brought to question again. "Is that what you want to do to me? Somehow get me a subclass?"


    "Yes, very much so," He said. "The king is wary of the attention Lord Ashton brought upon yourself and has taken steps to ensure your safety is paramount, due to your connection with the preserver."


    Jor turned back to the cover page. "And protecting me is expensive. I''m guessing Charlie has a lot of enemies? I didn''t realize people here hated him,"


    "Oh, not here, fortunately. There are kingdoms of dubious nature on the other floors. They have had a run in with our preserver,"Frederick smiled. Jor saw the first hint of a genuine smile from this entire conversation, if not a little bloodthirsty. "Those foolish enough to risk the wrath of Lord Ashton are fools. They deserve nothing but my contempt for doing so."


    Jor wanted so very badly to ask the most obvious question. There were other kingdoms, which no one mentioned, which would have been a great start. Were they human? Non-human? So many questions, though he knew nowthat it was not the time nor the place. Agis was still here, sitting four tables away nibbling on a butteredcroissant and sipping coffee. After this, he had alotof questions he wanted answers to.


    "What are the chances, though? To get a subclass if I go through with this?"


    "Not an impossibility, of course. Just highly improbable," The British man said, for what else could he be? "You must understand, however. If you go through with this, the possibility of your death will be quite high. Without your signed consent on proper documents to protect me, and my employees, as well as the organization from any illegal or criminal concerns, I will not proceed."


    More importantly, he wanted protection from Charlie, which he didn''t say. Which was understandable. Charlie was one scary hobo. Aside from his magic sword that knows magic, the capabilities of Charlie was unknown to him.


    "From what I was told,it would only be possible to get a subclass if one reached level ten," Jor looked back at the man in confusion. "I''m only level two. I haven''t even reached level five for my main class."This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    "Indeed,"Frederick replied with a nod. "Which would have been a complication, but one we''re hoping to forgo such trivialities with swift urgencyvia the procedure," Wait, what? Seeing the startled expression on his face, the head of SR&ED continued. "Ah, so you understand. What we''re hoping to achieve, is to forcefully bring out the potential of both your classand subclass by stimulating your spirit connected to the system."


    Jor leaned back against the chair, his brows furrowed. "So, you want to basically cheat the system. I''m guessing the Architects are involved?"


    Frederick smiled. "Of course. They have been working tirelessly for the past decades to achieve what we''re about to do. If we succeed, it could change our very future."


    "This... system, I''m assuming comes from the dungeon?" At the man''s slight nod, Jor continued. "Wouldn''t the dungeon not like being cheated out of something? Unless its just a mass of tumor that just keeps growing, it has to be sentient, right? Something this big...,"


    "Oh yes, it is very much a sentient being. It is a god unto itself,"Frederick replied. "And yet, despite its grand powers and its ability to adapt and create, it is not a very intelligent one, either. It reacts on instincts, and though it does stamp out some of our moreegregious attempts at altering its system, it does so with extreme prejudice."


    "So, you needed to be a bit more subtle...," Jor finished with a sigh.


    "Does that mean you consent?" He asked once more.


    Jor wanted a lot of things. His home, his life, his family and friends. Yet, he was trapped in a world that doesn''t stop growing, filled with monsters of all kinds that would love nothing more than to kill you. Then, there was a potential enemy for a god, and a phoenix embedded inside him. Would the procedure affect his connection to the Firebird? He didn''t know, but there was one way to find out.


    Furthermore, he was weak. He wanted the power to protect himself. And here, power was everything. They were the tool he needed to not only survive but thrive in an environment as dangerous as this.


    Jor hesitated. "Would I be able to choose my subclass?"


    Frederick smiled. "I have heard of your goal of wanting to be a warrior. While it is commendable to choose one of the classics, please do make an attempt at choosing one of the more exotic ones? Something that would complement your main class, and your survivability for your future endeavors? Should you survive, it would be a waste to see that much growth go to waste."


    Jor frowned. "What class do you have?"


    "I''m just a regular human, I''m afraid," He answered with a chuckle. "Well, I have majored in sorcery and specialized in the arcane arts. But no, I have no class to speak of,"


    "I... oh," Jor almost forgot that the majority of the population were classless. "So, what''s the difference between Wizards and Sorcerers and their classless counterparts?"


    "The same difference between a normal warrior and a classed Warrior. Their ability and growth far exceed those without. The arcane class allows them to unravel the secrets of magic with a far speedier pace, outstripping non-classers that have studied for decades to achieving even one-tenth of what the classed individuals are capable of achieving."


    He could taste the hint of bitterness in the man''s voice. Jor wasn''t blind to the slight jealousy. He even understood it.Yet, the ability to use magic without a class not only surprised him,but it also presented him with an opportunity he had been looking for since the subject of the classes came up the day he met the king.


    He thought back to the healer that had him checked up that day. He assumed Silanna and those healers he had met had classes of their own. Now, he wasn''t so sure. Again, he had to ask Agis.


    It was only a theory, but one that he hoped would work. Especially since he had read up on some of the subjects the academies were capable of teaching to those with classes.Intricacies of Mana Manipulation, The Art of Runes, Conjuration, Druidism, Summoning and so much more. Yet, it wasn''t as if the thought of choosing a magic class wouldn''t allow him to learn other branches of magic unrelated to it. Indeed, it might even help him give him a field of advantage in the future.


    Yet, the more Jor thought about his theory, the more he came to like the idea.


    "You seem relieved. Yet, surprised at the prospect," He leaned forward, his cool eyes intent upon his own. "Many men and women with classes usually look down upon those without one. Yet, you seem indifferent. May I ask why?"


    Jor shrugged,then opted to look upon his own cup of tea. It had gone cold. "What''s important than survival? Learning magic is a good opportunity." It was a nonanswer, but it seemed to satisfy the man nonetheless.


    Frederick seemed surprised. "Ah, an inspired student of the arcane arts. Yes, it is a good mix of both warrior and magic. If you can choose a type of class that can most compliment you, I have my full confidence you will do well in the future."


    Jor nodded with a sad smile. Magic. He grew up watching Disney movies and reading Harry Potter. Magic was prominent in everything. It wasn''t just the power of magic, but the ingrained beauty of the natural world and concepts that which was magical. It was divinity and dreams personified, hooked into his dreams and subconsciousness as a child, forever turning his own perception of what is a reality, and what is imagination.


    He was never religious, didn''t even believed in magic. He had to grow out of that. It wasn''t something he thought about. His parents were, though. They brought him to temples and churches as a child, to somehow connect to the gods of his ancestors, from both his parents'' sides. Jor felt indifferent, cold to the carings of the arms of the celestials. It wasn''t for the lack of trying, either.


    He just didn''t care.


    Then, his life turned upside down. Everything went wrong when he fell into a pit. The undead was real, elves and lion men and other races resembling beasts and humans were real. It was a little too much of everything to dump on someone who hadn''t truly experienced the world. Still, if gods were real, they were either not as omnipotent as they were believed them to be, or it was out of their control. The irony of ironies, Jor thought.


    If this was some sort of punishment from a higher being? Well, he never really believed it to begin with. It felt narcissistic to assume you were somehow important to an eternal concept of creation, more than other mortal beings. Even if Jor was nothing more than a microcosmto an uncaring dungeon he seemed to have landed upon, all he could do was survive.


    And survive.


    "Yes. I consent."

 2.2

    The next two dayswere spent questioning Agis. What and who exactly threatened the safety of the Sunset Kingdom? How many states or sovereignnations? Where were they? Should they be concerned about their safety? He learned the Sunset''s histories of such kingdoms and city-states and the animosities that bloomed due to either sides'' poordiplomatic conventions and treaties. Whether it was simply arrogance or incompetence,war eventually broke out against the Monarchia Daemonum,of the demonic races. Fortunately, it was onlythem. Unfortunately, they were the biggest and the baddest thing on the block.


    It left him humbled when the last war was fought and ended only ten years ago.


    When the demonic forces invaded their floor, most of their strongest forces were away dealing with a Boss level antagonist. It had caught the kingdom off-guard and in a poor situation. It was only thanks to Calastdeth, The Mystic-Necromancer, one of the Ten Immortals left behind to safeguard the kingdom, that they managed to stem the tide of the numbers, and eventually won the brief, if brutal, war.


    The death toll that day was horrendous, and it would take another decade before they would be able to fully recover. And the greater cost that day was paid when Calasdeth Felidae herself gave her life to defeat one of the heroes of the Demon Queen. Having no child to speak of, her body was returned to the people of l?wenmensch, ortaxonomically referred to as the leomen. Lion-men, in other words.


    She was buried that day, and only grief remained.


    A statue was erected a week later, to be permanently immortalized and deified within thegarden square of E¨¦n, the city''s largest garden. It depicted a genial lioness standing hundred foot high, made from the ancient stones from the mountains of Theopia, and magically carved by the most talented of sculptures. It will not chip or wither, and no wind nor rain shall wear down those stones.


    Her legendary staff, theFaithful Forgotten, and most of her legendary items was gifted to the king''s treasury for safe keeping. Good thing, too, since most of her equipment was taken from raids against dungeon bosses of immense quality and make. There were many who would do anything to steal such precious items.


    And yet, the years since the battle, there was peace. If not a few skirmisheshere or there, at least formalized in the way of a non-aggressionpact. It was signed and dotted. Then, everything went out the window,when tensions lowered to sub-zero temperatures since the arrival of Charlie, and himself.


    The foreign kingdoms were worried. Perhaps retaliation? Vengeance? It wasn''t as if the allies were there to help when the demons attacked. And, with the backing of Lord Ashton, the downfall of a nation was more than possible. Even against the queen demon, herself. The sacking, or annexing of a foreign power would bring a great boon to the Sunset kingdom.


    It was no wonder Agis looked concerned.


    "Why didn''t Charlie help? With the war, I mean," Asked Jor.


    Agis glared. "Lord Ashtondidn''t help, because he wasn''t there," He sighed. "Also, because he refused to help in any foreign engagements. He may have helped foundour country, but it doesn''t mean he is tied down by it. There are far greater threats that pose problems to our floor then a few unruly nations. And the gifts he arrives with gives us a major advantageover the others."


    "Gifts?"


    "Magical weapons, crystals, fruits and monster parts of exotic variety, and plenty more have been gifted to the king and country," Agis happily smiled. "They were all from the more difficult floor, with levels far higher than our best. The quality of even one such an item would be of a legendary status, sold for millions of talis. It could make a common man rich beyond compare,"


    Jor scratched the back of his neck in thought. Being rich never really occurred to him. He was from a relatively middle-class family, with both workingparents. And he himself had a part-time job. Though the money can be tight sometimes, they have managed to get by even in times of crises. But to be thrust into the status of the wealthy... well, it would be interesting. He shrugged. What''s money to him? He lives in a closet.


    "Well, here we are," Agis brought his attention back to the fore. It was another tree, just as large as the others, but less decorated with aesthetics and more utilitarian. What he didn''t expect, was a hospital. A more general hospital for the normal people to attend to their sick and needy. The waiting area was filled with those, waiting to be called by the nurses like any other hospital he''s ever been in.


    Jor blinked. "A hospital?"


    "Yes, I was surprised as well," He was surprised that Agis was surprised.


    Someone was already waiting for them.


    "You must be our new patient," The woman breathed out with a gentle smile. She was a plain-faced woman, with brown hair and a mousy face. Her eyes, though, those hazels flickered likeextrinsic passion detached from the world. "Thank you for bringing him along, Agis. You may run along now,"


    Agis'' countenance turned ugly, for just a second. Then, returned with a genial smile. "I think I will be staying here until the procedure is done. The king expects results, magusCaethwen."


    She returned the smile, though Jor sensed irritation behind those eyes. "Of course. If that''s the case, you may stay here in the waiting area. It will be a long day,"


    The slight smirk was aggravating enough that Agis bristled under it. Jor blinked. Did they know each other? What''s with the sudden animosity? The instant dislike? Jor decided to keep quiet, for now.


    She turned to face him. "Please come with me. Mr. Cunningham is waiting for you."


    "Right..., of course," Jor tapped his aide on the shoulder. "I''ll be back soon. Don''t worry about it, yeah?"


    Agis'' lips thinned with displeasure. It was obvious his companion was concerned. "Right. Be very aware of your surroundings, Jor."


    Jor nodded and was led away from the waiting area, and toward the elevator. It was... an actual elevator. They went up. There wasn''t the sound of shifting mechanics and cables being pulled. It was quiet, almost as if he were standing. Though, there wasn''t any elevator music, which was a disappointment.


    When the elevator opened, they were in an open area. It... was the roof, where the branches spread like spears to the cloudy skies. And there, within the thick branches ahead of the walkway, was a domed building of black glass. It was beautiful. Itlookedbeautiful, like a small pearl hidden from the depths of people''s perception.


    "Right this way," He followed her, and through the door held out for her, and him. It was an orc, glaring at him like a suspect about to steal a purse. Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    It looked like the king''s personal medical area, filled with magical equipment and gadgets and runic arrays carved into the shining glossy floor. The walls were no exception. And in the middle of the small hall, was a team of mages. And there, at the head of his team, wasFrederickCunningham, the head of his division.


    He smiled, as he took a step forward with a raised hand. Jor took it warily. "Ready to begin?"


    "Yes." No hesitation. Going back on his word would only lose his trust. His word was important.


    --


    He was strapped to an operating table. Thankfully, it was comfortable. Also, fortunately, he wasn''t going to get cut open as the doctor shows on tv.


    "Countdown to ten, if you will," Mr.Cunningham said, as another person turned to face him with a faint blush of spell.


    "Ten. Nine. Eight...," Jor felt unfocused, sleepy.


    "You may begin." Ordered Cunningham.


    He remembered falling somewhere, then floating. He was in an omnipresent room. It seemed to go on forever. There was no end to it. Endless as the universe, expanding, growing. Like the dungeon. This was in his mind. He knew this, almost subconsciously. Jor just couldn''t quite realize it.


    Then, the world bled red and crimson. Fires consumed and churned like a violent storm.


    "He''s going into shock. Do something, necromancer!"


    "I cannot! His spirit has rejected my intrusion."


    "Give me fifty millimeters of GA!"


    "Right away!"


    "Have you at least embedded the classes, Frederick?"


    "Yes, but his body can''t seem to handle it. It''s too weak, unprepared.Ago?"


    "His spirit is barely holding on, leaking energies through like a cracked dam. His heart won''t be able to take it, and his organs will fail as a result."


    "This is the preserver''s chosen. We cannotfail."


    There was a quiet moment of stillness.


    "His spirit is burning up. Hot, like a miniature sun."


    A pregnant pause followed.


    "Open up his chest. Now!"


    "What are you doing?!"


    "What about..-!"


    "Quiet! Bring me... his heart won''t be enough to take this kind of stress. I doubt it ever could,"There was a moment, of what, Jor couldn''t quite understand, even stuck as he was inside a raging firestorm. Burning. Burning to nothing. "Dastien. His heart is enough."


    Gasps followed.


    "He''s in Stasis! If we do this, we will be killing him! We will be murderers! The king will never forgive us!"


    "Yes... this is treason. But what choice do we have? Dastien''s ahalf-celestial. His heart is beating strong, even after centuries of decay and death. But his mind is long gone. We have no other choice."


    "He''s right. This child dies, we either be purged from the hands of our king. Or, the preserver comes for our heads. Choose your option. I''d take the one that leads to life."


    Jor''s heart stopped.


    He died. A death befitting of a nobody, in the middle of an alien world, filled with dangerous monsters and fantastical creatures. And there, staring back into his soul, was the bird on fire. Its wings spread,as it cried in rage and vengeance like an angry God. His skin liquified, and his bones turned to ashes. His spirit popped and bubbled, and his soul ached in terror.


    "Beat. A heartbeat. Thank the gods,"


    A scoff."Don''t thank the gods yet, Fred. Let''s see whether the child survives this or not."


    "And Dastien?"


    "Dead. Frederick, I hope you have one hell of an excuse, because if not, I''m going to haunt your afterlife for eternity."


    "I''d never thought two successful experimental procedures would have succeeded so well."


    "It shouldn''t have succeeded. We have tried this before. We know this. This child has something special embedded inside his soul. Something is keeping him alive."


    "Can you go in and find out?"


    "I''m no fool, Fred. Its power is beyond mine,"


    Jor awakened to the Phoenix, its massive form glaring down on him with the weight of a sun.


    "What do you want?" He demanded, desperately. It only continued to glare at him. "What thehell do you want from me?!"


    Death.


    Rebirth.


    World.


    Wandering.


    Sa?s¨¡ra.


    Jor awoke, his eyes barely open. Everything was blurry and warm. It was getting hot. Hotter. Too hot. It felt like his dream. He felt like he was swimming in a lake of fire. It hurts. Hurts too much. So much, all the time. He couldn''t stop it. But he managed the pain. He knew how,but perhaps instinctively.


    He cycled the heat through his nerves and veins, his organs, his heart, and brain. It still hurt, but he managed the pain. Then, he fell unconscious.


    Someone was there with him. Was that Agis? That dark-skinned boy looking upon him with a worried expression.


    There was another. The king?


    Jor cycled the heat and fire. Then, he slept again.


    J?rmungandr Shesha


    Level 2 - +2


    Class - N/A


    Strength - 9 - 35%


    Endurance - 25 - 65%


    Intelligence - 9 - 32%


    Willpower - 30 - --%


    Vitality - 30 - --% +20


    Racial Trait - The Heart of the Phoenix


    Racial Trait - Regeneration of the Celestial


    Perk - Meditation.


    Racial Skills - Incinerate. Level 1. - 0%