《Sam: The Journey Home》 1. Welcome to the Tutorial
Welcome to the Tutorial!
A strange blue screen opened up in front of Sam. He reached forward and swiped his hand, watching it pass through the strange apparition. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± Sam groaned as he rubbed his temple. His eyes danced, noticing he was now in a room with stone walls. There was a single ornate wooden door in the center of one wall. Next to the door stood a desk with a dagger sitting on it. The room was unlit, but it had a strange ambience keeping the darkness at bay, as if the stone was aglow. The blue screen vanished from Sam¡¯s sight, and he realized -then- that he was alone. He panicked for a moment, still uncertain about what was going on. His last memory had been of laying down to sleep after a long day¡¯s work. Sam¡¯s thoughts cycled. He had been kidnapped; it was the only possibility he could think of. He wondered what the blue screen was. It mentioned a tutorial. More possibilities popped into Sam¡¯s head, albeit most were fanciful. He genuinely considered if he had been sent to another world like some light novel protagonist. One thing was certain to Sam: this was no dream. He could feel his heart thumping in his chest, and he could smell the dust in the air. He was very awake.Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. Sam leaned forward and climbed to his feet. His body felt strange, and he fumbled with the new height. He was taller than he remembered, and his limbs felt foreign. His body was changed. He was now wearing a simple gray cloth shirt, soft shoes, and gray cloth pants. Gazing down at his hands, Sam shivered. Fear and excitement welled up inside of him. He didn¡¯t recognize his own body. He traced memories of scars he no longer had. He wasn¡¯t in his own body anymore. Without a way to see his reflection, Sam was unable to verify his appearance. He could tell he was taller, and his new body seemed well built. His muscles, when flexed, stood out against his skin; it was something that never happened before. Sam took a full hour before he accustomed to his new body. He jogged lightly in place, did pushups, and even rolled across the floor. He took up the dagger on the table and practiced slashing with it, showing his complete inexperience with real weapons. During his acclimation period, Sam repeatedly mumbled the words ¡®Status¡¯, ¡®Analyze¡¯, and ¡®Menu¡¯ along with various other variations of those three words. Nothing happened. He was disappointed. After accepting that the blue screen he had seen during his first moments appeared, Sam had hoped that he would have access to other game-like features. Unfortunately, nothing of the like seemed to happen. The original screen mentioned the word ¡®Tutorial¡¯, so Sam had yet to give up on having a -status- screen. He assumed being able to access it would be part of the ¡®tutorial¡¯. Once he finished preparing physically and mentally, Sam decided to finally open the door in the center of the room. He gripped the dagger tightly, still unsure what he would find. When the door opened, Sam caught sight of the other side: a long tall hallway with torches along the walls, flickering with green flames and dancing shadows. 2 Sam walked down the hallway slowly, his eyes jumping left and right. He stopped in front of the first green torch and tried to pry it from the wall. It didn¡¯t budge. Carefully, he moved a finger over the flame and found that it lacked any heat. ¡°Cold fire,¡± Sam sucked in his breath. Wherever he was, the laws of his old world didn¡¯t seem to hold any longer. Sam continued walking down the hallway, watching the torches with interest. He could make out the door on the far side, double-wide and covered with strange murals of warring people. Suddenly Sam hear a clicking sound from below him. He jumped backwards, watching as one of the floor tiles he stepped on slowly receded into the floor. ¡°What the¡­¡± Sam¡¯s voice was cut off by a tremendous amount of pain in his right shoulder. He screamed, his voice cracking like glass, as he looked at the shaft of a pulsing-green arrow buried in his flesh. Suddenly, a second burst of pain sobered him. Sam looked down at his thigh to the second arrow that had decided to use him as a pincushion. His blood flowed like a river, and tears welled in his eyes from the sudden stabbing pain. Sam looked up in time to see the mechanism situated above the far door, a series of glowing green crossbows. He had stepped onto a trap. Just as the situation became clear to him, the twang of a third bow echoed and the final arrow found its way into Sam¡¯s throat. He collapsed backwards into a pool of his own blood. The pain began to fade as numbness took him over. Sam was dying. He could only ponder on the sheer absurdity of it all as a blue screen opened up before him. - Sam¡¯s eyes shot open. He was back in the stone room. The dagger was on the table again.
Welcome to the Tutorial!
The same blue screen popped up again. Sam shot to his feet and began patting down his body. He found no blood, no scars, and no arrows. He wondered if it had just been a dream, but he knew in his heart it had been too real. Sam hadn¡¯t felt that much pain in his entire life.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡®So I come back to life when I die?¡¯ He wondered, almost confused by the whole experience of death. There had been no long tunnel, no voice of God, and no reincarnation. He simply went from dying in a pool of his own blood to waking up in the stone room again. After coming to terms with what happened, Sam grew angry. He cursed under his breath and wondered just who designed a tutorial with lethal traps in the very first room. The pain he felt was so vibrant, so powerful that it caused Sam to take a moment of pause on exploring his new ¡®home¡¯... And so Sam didn¡¯t move. He stayed in the starting room, terrified of what he might find outside in the long hallway. For hours Sam stayed still, but soon enough nature came calling. He receded to a far corner and relieved himself, and thankfully the refuse vanished into the stone as if by magic. This point was when Sam noticed a distinct problem: he had no food nor water in the stone room. He was beginning to grow thirsty, and he feared what a prolonged stay would do to him¡­ But if he left the room, then he¡¯d face the traps from before. Sam felt the pain from the arrows even now, just by thinking on them. He had never faced such extremes before. He had never truly felt pain, he had never truly felt thirst, and he had never truly felt hunger. After experiencing real pain, Sam decided then he¡¯d rather face the risk of dehydration and starvation than go through it again. Minutes turned to hours, and Sam¡¯s thirst only grew. He continued to swallow his saliva, attempting to sooth his throat. His tongue tasted like sand. As the hours passed, Sam¡¯s head began to hurt. He felt dizzy and nauseous, and his throat felt like char. With no windows, no clocks, and no references, he could no longer track the passage of time. He felt hungover, for some odd reason. Days passed, and Sam grew increasingly lethargic. Moving became hard, and his skin felt too small. For some reason, he never panicked. He knew he was dying from dehydration. Sam stumbled to his feet. He needed water. His throat sang out in a chorus of pain, and his vision was blurred. Even breathing hurt. Sam decided that dying to an arrow was less painful than this Hell. With trembling feet, Sam stumbled forward to the hallway door, and started making his way. His mind and eyes were hazed over. He remembered the arrows and their pain, but those thoughts were now faded compared to the tortures of dehydration. He moved on like a zombie. Somehow, by sheer luck, Sam managed to avoid the floor tile that activated the crossbow traps. He continued stumbling forward, determined to find something to drink, something to satiate himself. Sam reached the door at the end of the hall and threw it open, revealing a small stone room with a single green-skinned figure standing in the middle. The creature looked to be the cross between a chimp and a man, with a hunched body and strange tail. It was dressed in leather armor and had a long knife sheathed on its hip. The creature¡¯s eyes followed Sam as he entered. Then, without warning, it leapt forward.Sam tried to cry out, but his body was too weak. The monster¡¯s knife cut into Sam, severing his life in a torrent of blood and pain. 3
Welcome to the Tutorial!
Sam¡¯s eyes shot open. He jumped to his feet and grabbed the dagger from the table. He ran through the doorway on the far side and briskly walked down the hall. Near the middle he specifically stepped around one tile. Near the end he also avoided a second tile. After his first few rounds, Sam learned to identify the trapped tiles. They had slightly higher elevations in order to hide the mechanisms in them. With careful steps he would never trigger them again. Once he reached the door Sam stopped moving. He breathed slowly, as if to prepare himself. He had fought the strange monster on the other side 14 times now, each ending in his own death¡­ But every time he had improved. The first time he was too dehydrated to put up a fight. The second time the goblin ran him through the gambit, and so on. Every time Sam fought the goblin he watched the creature carefully. He took note of everything, from the way the goblin held his blade to the way it moved its feet. Sam emulated the beast, and after much practice even managed to successfully parry a few of its blows. Sam¡¯s body moved faster than he remembered, and his dynamic vision seemed far improved. The ability to ¡®respawn¡¯ had given him the freedom to test his limits, and he found them boundless. Every fight he grew stronger, every fight he grew faster. This time he was confident. There was no other way out. He needed to get past this odd goblin in order to escape this ¡®tutorial¡¯. Sam¡¯s initial timidness had faded. The terror of dying from dehydration or hunger weighed more on his mind than anything else. He¡¯d rather die by the goblin¡¯s blade than face such things again. And so, with great vigour, Sam pushed open the Goblin¡¯s door. - The goblin rushed forward, keeping its shoulders back. It lunged its knife, aiming for Sam¡¯s center of mass. Sam moved to the side and used his free hand to sway the goblin¡¯s stab before unleashing a flurry of his own. The two traded blow after blow, and cuts began to mar their arms. This was the furthest Sam had ever gotten. He had studied the goblin¡¯s movements and he had prepared for this fight to the fullest of his ability. And Sam began to understand one key thing: there was a limit to imitation. He knew that if he only copied his foe he¡¯d never surpass him. With that thought in mind, Sam decided it was time to show his own prowess. He didn¡¯t lack for inspiration, having played many games in his life. When the goblin struck forward again, Sam focused. He knew the goblin followed six key patterns in its attacks. Sam parried blow after blow, waiting for the right opportunity. Blood trickled down his arms as numerous cuts formed. His jaw clenched. Sam¡¯s eyes glowed with determination.Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Finally, the goblin stepped forward into a lunge. Rather than retreat from the incoming stab per normal, Sam moved forward. Grabbing the goblin¡¯s guiding hand, Sam spun. He aimed to lodge his knife into the back of the goblin¡¯s neck. Sam¡¯s strike landed true, and the goblin collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut. The spin didn¡¯t stop, however. The accrued blood on the floor created a slippery surface, and Sam found himself falling. When he hit the ground a sharp pain surged through his abdomen. Sam rolled over and found his own knife sticking out of his stomach. His face turned first green and then red. Embarrassment and anger welled up inside him. He had finally defeated the goblin, but in doing so he had stabbed himself. A wave of resignation surged through him, and Sam stared up at the stone ceiling above, waiting for the welcome message again¡­ A message that never came. It took five minutes of agony before Sam realized he hadn¡¯t died. He tried to roll forward, but the muscles in his midsection wouldn¡¯t work. Moving caused the knife to penetrate deeper. Reluctantly, Sam gripped the handle of the knife and groaned. With a tremendous effort, he ignored the surging tides of torment and finally dislodged the shiv, letting it clatter to the stone floor beside him. His blood began to overflow from the wound like water from a clogged sink. Sam ripped his shirt and immediately began compressing the cut, thankful for the minimum first aid he had been taught. Every movement caused misery, but Sam was determined. He finally rose to his feet and noticed the goblin¡¯s corpse on the ground. He hobbled over to it and sat down. Sam could feel the pangs of hunger and thirst encroaching. He eyed the goblin and considered, for a moment, if he would have to try and devour the flesh of the beast. It was humanoid in shape, and the thought of eating it repulsed him. Sam searched through the monster¡¯s leather pockets until he finally found what he had been looking for: a key. Sam also took the goblin¡¯s leathers and hung them over his shoulder, wondering if he could make use of them. Sam fumbled with the weight of the leathers as he moved towards the locked door opposite his own entrance. They were gaudy and heavy. Sam wished he had some kind of storage power, but reality forsook him. His stomach burned and he dry heaved twice, but his desire to discover what laid beyond the dungeon compelled him forward. Having faced the terror and suffering of dehydration before, a mere stab wound couldn¡¯t stop him now. ¡°Why do you even try?¡± His father¡¯s words echoed in his head. Sam grit his teeth. His makeshift bandage tore, and blood poured down his body like rain. But he continued on. Step after step, until he reached the door. He fumbled with the lock, but a sense of accomplishment overwhelmed him when he heard the click of the tumblers. ¡®Why do I even try?¡¯ Sam asked himself, almost mockingly. The question had tormented him when he was younger. Back then Sam couldn¡¯t truthfully answer his father. The words tasted like iron in his mouth, or perhaps he was confusing them with the taste of blood. - The door opened up into a small room. In the center was a desk with a book on it. Sam dropped the bloody leathers, letting them hit the floor in a pile, and he limped his way to the desk. He grabbed hold of the book, examining it. The tome held no markings on its gray surface. Carefully, with the delicacy of a scholar, Sam opened the book to the first page. ¡®An Introduction to Magic¡¯ He read the title page quietly to himself, and a smile bloomed. The room seemed to spin for a moment, and Sam fell over backwards, the back of his head smashing onto the floor. He died with a smile on his face. Then, as always, the same floating blue screen appeared in front of him:
Welcome to the Tutorial!
4. The Foundations of Magic Sam rushed down the hallway, dancing around the trapped tiles. When he reached the end he didn¡¯t open the door. Instead he turned to toss his dagger backwards and crouched. Three crossbows revealed themselves above the doorway, firing into the empty hall. Sam started counting down in his head from 15. When he reached 0, he stood up and walked down the hallway, grabbing his knife and the pulsing green arrows, careful to hold them through the fabric of his shirt rather than with his bare hands. With his knife, Sam jimmied the crossbows until he could get two detached. He quickly loaded a bolt into the first and then opened the door to the goblin¡¯s room. The goblin grunted at Sam in challenge while spinning its knife over its fingers. Sam raised his crossbow and pulled the trigger, ending the creature¡¯s life in a literal instant. The dull thud of the monster¡¯s body hitting the floor gave Sam goosebumps. He wondered, then, just how much time he had wasted trying to fairly fight the goblin in the past? Finally, with a smile on his face, Sam looted the key and stepped into what he dubbed, ¡®The Safe Room¡¯. Sam walked to the center of the room, opened the book to the 743¡¯d page, and continued reading. For hours upon hours, Sam read the book and practiced kneading magic power. Eventually, after enough time passed, his thirst and hunger started to grow unbearable. Rather than continue studying the magic book in a delirious state, Sam picked up the second crossbow and armed it. Without hesitation, he put the bolt to his head and fired.
Welcome to the Tutorial!
The door to continue past ¡®The Safe Room¡¯ had no key. It was locked by a complex series of markings. Sam tried numerous things to unlock the door, from yelling nonsense phrases like ¡®Open Sesame¡¯ to outright prying the locks with his dagger. Nothing worked. The only option left available was the thick tome labeled ¡®Introduction to Magic¡¯. Sam assumed the method to open the door was magical in nature, since all the physical methods failed. During his first few days of studying the book, Sam struggled to even produce a spark of magic power. Every time, he read the nonsense-runes until his fingers bled from papercuts orhe started dying of dehydration. Sam¡¯s skills with a knife improved every time he fought the goblin, but often he would come out injured anyways. Knife fights were just that kind of animal, in the end. ''No one ever truly wins a knife fight,'' Sam mused. By using the crossbows Sam could save precious time. Not only could he end the goblin fight without getting hurt, he could use the second crossbow to painlessly kill himself and restart whenever his hunger or thirst started to drive him to the edge. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Sam had tried eating the goblin¡¯s corpse, but every time he did he would die within hours, suffering from obscene stomach pains. He could only assume the creature¡¯s body was inedible or poisonous. Thus, Sam did the only thing he could: he studied the book on magic. - The magic tome introduced the seven main magic disciplines to Sam: Ruin, Conjuration, Alchemy, Cabala, Manifestation, Illusion, and Restoration. Ruin encompassed powerful offensive magicks, usually siphoned through an element to achieve a goal. Powerful Ruin casters could wield fire and ice like swords, or water and light like lances. Conjuration involved tapping into the Aether and summoning forth spirits in physical form. Conjurers could bring demons and monsters to do their bidding, or summon constructs and war machines to aid an army in their time of need. Conjuration also included methods of instant movement for lifeless entities such as weapons or armor by using the Aether as a mode of transport. Alchemy was the most recognizable for Sam. It involved combining magical plants and other ingredients to create potions and salves of varying effects. Cabala was the magic of souls and ambience. It involved the manipulation of spirits as well as dispelling magic and sensing life. Cabalists often turned their skills to manipulating the dead; such magisters were dubbed necromancers and their arts were considered forbidden. Manifestation involved altering the physical world. Magicks of this type could open locks, harden armors, lighten loads, or even allow the user to breathe underwater. Manifestation could turn lead into gold, but it always followed the law of equivalent exchange. In order for one thing to be altered, an equal amount of energy (raw mana) or material needed to be exchanged. Illusion was the magic of the mind. It contained methods to distort or trick the five senses. Finally, Restoration was the magic of healing, faith, and recovery. It involved extensive knowledge of anatomy and powerful faith. What that faith was placed in didn¡¯t seem to matter. Some prayed to a God for their healing magics, others simply held faith in their own skills. Some countries dubbed Restoration as ¡®Holy¡¯ magic instead. The seven magics weren¡¯t exclusive. Often complex spells used combinations and coordinated efforts from multiple schools. Each school of magic had many subgroups as well. Ruin was often divided into specific elemental preferences depending on personal affinities. - Sam studied each magic carefully. He was oddly thankful for the pseudo immortality this ¡®tutorial¡¯ had granted him for he had long since lost track of the time he spent studying magic. He understood he needed to become adept in Manifestation magicks to open the locked door, but he also feared what would happen if he became unable to come back to the magic tome. Leaving behind such a resource and the unlimited time granted to master it would be folly. Sam wondered if he would always return to the very first room, even after he passed what very much looked to be a checkpoint in ¡®The Safe Room¡¯. Thus, instead of going ahead blind, Sam decided to master all of the magic in his tome before continuing on¡­ Even though it would take him many, many years to do so. Once more, Sam turned back all the pages and reread the opening lines: ¡®Magic is not an external power. It is a fire burning in your heart, and fire can be volatile. A simple spark can ignite intoxicating wildfires. Just as I was lent a spark from my master so very many years ago, so shall I lend a spark to you. Do not let it consume you...¡¯ 5. Beyond the Door The goblin in the first room became Sam¡¯s training dummy for new magics. The poor creature suffered the fire and ice of Ruin magic, had its soul distorted and ripped apart by Cabalist runes, was immobilized and strangled by the hardening of its own leather armors, suffered under countless illusions, and was maimed and then healed until it lost its sanity. Sam held little pity for the monster that had stabbed and killed him numerous times, and so he used the goblin as a practice dummy whenever he mastered a new spell. As time passed, Sam found himself speaking aloud less and less often. Whenever he did have to speak it was for a magic chant, and his own voice proved surprising to him. Sam lost himself in the magics of the tome, and time slipped by at a breakneck pace. He had long since lost count of his deaths and rebirths. Sam discovered by using Restoration magics he could supplant his thirst and hunger for a time. He also discovered he could use Restoration to purify and detoxify the goblin¡¯s meat. This lead to longer periods of study. Unfortunately, purifying the goblin¡¯s flesh didn¡¯t make it taste any less foul. Sam was obsessed. He wanted to master every spell the book held, but often he would get distracted experimenting with new variations of older spells that he came up with himself. Without even meaning to, Sam increased the size of his magic pool tremendously through sheer effort. His mana grew to extraordinary levels that would dwarf even master magisters. The ability to train endlessly for years without the side effects ruining one¡¯s body gave Sam a ¡®cheat code¡¯ of sorts. Soon enough his mana surpassed the levels of dragons and master vampires, his mana overtook the realm of Gods. Sam¡¯s physique improved over time. As he took in more and more mana his body grew stronger and more dynamic. His muscles cut an impressive figure, but the changes were so gradual he never really took notice. - Without even realizing it, Sam had been trapped within the first stage of the tutorial for nearly a century. It was as if he had disconnected from time itself. He read the last lines of the book, his faithful companion, with a smile on his face. He had mastered everything within its leatherbound pages except Alchemy. Without any ingredients, containers, or other means Sam was unable to produce potions. Instead he opted to simply memorize the processes and recipes. He would practice them when he managed to escape this ¡®tutorial¡¯. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. The last lines of the book read: ¡®And so we have reached the end. I have imparted all the necessary knowledge for one to pick up, practice, and master each one of the seven magical disciplines. The rest is up to you, reader. Will you burn bright as the sun, your light giving way to new day for all the world, or will you wither to embers and ash?¡¯ Underneath the closing paragraph was a signature: ¡®Roland Southfair Levitas, Archmage of the Kriegan Empire, circa 1252 a.o.¡¯ Sam closed the book and noticed a strange wetness under his eyes. He vowed to made Roland proud. - Sam walked to the locked door and reached within his heart, igniting the fire of his soul. He brought forth raw surging magic and, with the forte of a master, cast a spell that tumbled the lock open. It was time for his journey to continue. Beyond the door stretched a new hallway, lit by green torches. He walked forward carefully, stepping around each of the new traps. He was curious about them but opted to avoid them altogether. The end of the hallway opened up into a massive room. The ceiling was hung high with hanging torches that resembled stars. In the center of the room stood a 7 foot tall skeleton donning a massive sword and strange armor covered in cyclic runes and pulsing magic. Sam could feel the ambient mana surging and swirling like a hurricane. Immediately he began forming the runes in his mind, pulling up his most virulent spell. Ruin magic combined together and electric arcssparked from the sheer voltage on Sam¡¯s fingertips. With a roar, he unleashed a blast of fire, light, and wind reminiscent of an advanced military-grade missile... But the beast withstood the blow, unflinching like a boulder in rapids; the whorls of fire settled around it like eddies in a wide river. It¡¯s head tilted to the side, as if asking ¡®Is that it?¡¯ The monster¡¯s bones creaked like old hinges as it bent a knee, angling itself forward. Then it charged. ¡°Tch,¡± snapped Sam as he jumped to the side, avoiding the skeleton¡¯s initial slash. Sam pulled on his mana and grabbed at the shadows in the room, attempting to hide his form through a powerful illusion. The skeleton wasn¡¯t fooled. It launched itself at a random shadow and slashed down, cutting Sam from the shoulder to his opposite hip. ¡°Fuck!¡± Sam screamed as he tried to heal the wound with Restoration magic¡­ And then he noticed the sword coming back for a second round.
Welcome to the Tutorial!
Sam slammed his hand down on the floor, upset at himself more than anything. He realized -then- how foolish it was to try and cast an illusion against a creature without eyes. 6. A Battle of Persistence With a plink, the skeleton-knight slapped down a crossbow bolt. Then it charged. Sam dropped the crossbow and rolled forward, dodging the skeleton¡¯s swing. The monster¡¯s sword cut into the stone where Sam had been standing like butter,shaking the room.Using that opportunity, Sam brandished his dagger and slashed across the skeleton¡¯s knees. His mana-infused strike dented the monster¡¯s armor and caused it to stagger back, giving Sam a moment of reprieve. At every opportunity, Sam continued to blast the skeleton with different magics. From dispels to flames, from freezing temperatures to spears of light, from soul rends to armor manipulation... But nothing worked. The creature seemed resistant -if not outright immune- taking only the bare minimum of damage from anything magical in origin. Sam''s illusions, no matter how complex or powerful, were seen through. Auditory, visual, tactile, and even olfactory illusions, they all made no difference. The monster seemed to sense Sam through some other means. And so Sam did the only thing he could: he fought with brawn instead of brain. Just like his first tries against the goblin, Sam went after the skeleton-knight time and time again, and with each fight he grew more and more skilled. Something had to eventually work on the monster, and thus Sam opted to try everything. The battles soon became showcases for Sam. His skills had grown and he started to see the weak points in the skeleton¡¯s fighting style¡­ And so he relentlessly attacked those weaknesses. - Sam dashed forward and slashed hard, finally taking the skeleton off its feet. He smiled as he moved to deliver the final blow before the monster could recover, but he had made a glaring mistake in his calculations. The skeleton, while on the ground, raised a bony hand and unleashed a burst of raw magic. A massive electrical discharge smashed into Sam, tearing his upper-body apart. Thunder roared in the small room. Missing most of his torso, Sam stared at the skeleton knight with a slacked jaw. The monster¡¯s hand was outstretched and nearly smoking from the ambient mana it had just produced. Sam died once again, except this time he died screaming: ¡°IT CAN USE MAGIC?!¡±
Welcome to the Tutorial!
Sam stopped rushing to fight the skeleton knight. Instead he opted to train his physical combat skills on the goblin in the first room, interweaving magic into his strikes. The skeleton was simply a beast he couldn¡¯t beat with trickery or pure magic. He needed the skills of a real warrior to continue. And so Sam started seriously training his body. Whenever he fought the goblin or even the skeleton knight, Sam would study their movements. He meditated on the martial arts, and used illusion magics to recreate his foes in safety to practice and explore potential methods of attack. Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. He used his knowledge of anatomy and Restoration magic to improve his physical training beyond normal limits, and he found his body growing increasingly more powerful as he suffused mana throughout it. It was at this time Sam finally realized that his body retained any increase in physical strength after death. This realization opened a whole new avenue to Sam, who began a training regiment that would kill normal men¡­ And it did. Sam died hundreds of times from overtraining and overexerting his body in tortuous ways. He had long since thrown off the shackles of pain, having suffered beyond the capacity of mortal men. Sam became the embodiment of recklessness. He decided to abuse his pseudo-immortality and train in ridiculous methods. He practiced swinging his knife until his hands and shoulders bled, he punched walls until his frayed knuckles gave out, and he kicked doorways to harden his shattering shins. Sam forged a body so powerful it could be classified as a weapon itself. He trained for years in this manner. During this time Sam never neglected his magic, either. He practiced weaving magic into his combat. Eventually, after an extraordinary amount of time, Sam determined he was ready to face the skeleton. - Using illusion magics, natural speed, and overwhelming strength, Sam bypassed the goblin and traps without wasting a modicum of mana or physical power. He wanted to fight the skeleton knight at full strength. Sam stepped into the skeleton knight¡¯s room and brandished a sword, something he created by modifying the old rusted dagger with his mana. It pulsed green from the Manifestation magic enchantments inscribed onto it. With a roar, Sam charged the skeleton and met it in mortal combat. The dull thud of metal striking metal echoed through the chamber. Sam exchanged blow after blow with his enemy. He took every opening he could find to chip away at the skeleton¡¯s armor. He matched the Knight¡¯s moves and surpassed them, showcasing his improvements. He was like a God of War personified, and his skeletal foe was soon pressured back. Sam aimed every strike for a joint or connecting piece of armor, and after nearly 10 minutes of deadlock he finally managed to break open a crack in the monster¡¯s breastplate. Not willing to waste the opportunity, Sam plunged his sword through the skeleton¡¯s body and unleashed the full torrent of his saved up magic. Sam unchained the fire within himself and created an unmatched inferno of Ruin magic. His spell used his sword to transmit his spell, and the blast struck like a meteor inside the skeleton¡¯s armor, negating the magic resistances that had so plagued Sam earlier. The monster died in a flash of blinding white light. Not even ashes remained. Once the creature died, the wall behind slid open to reveal a doorway. Exhausted, Sam fell down and let his sword clatter to the floor. He had nearly no mana left. His attack earlier could pass for the definition of ¡®overkill¡¯. He started to focus on healing and regaining his strength to face whatever came after such an indomitable foe. After recovering, Sam moved to the doorway on the far side and continued his journey. After walking down another trap-filled hallway, he came to the next ¡®challenge¡¯ room. Sam opened the door and was greeted by a soul-crushing sight. Inside the room, standing like statues waiting for his challenge, were two skeletons wearing the same magic-resistant armor as the last one. ¡­ ¡°Fuck,¡± Sam muttered under his breath as he rolled up the sleeves to his shirt. Then, with a roar, he charged into a losing battle. 7. The Next Step Fighting two powerful foes at the same time proved almost impossible for Sam. Whenever he would gain an advantage against one, the other would suppress him and force him to retreat. Not only were the skeletons outnumbering him, they were each individually stronger than the last one he had fought. ¡°This is bullshit!¡± Sam screamed aloud as he died again.
Welcome to the Tutorial!
Welcome to the Tutorial!
Welcome to the Tutorial!
Welcome to the Tutorial!
Welcome to the Tutorial!
Welcome to the Tutorial!
Welcome to the Tutorial!
... Sam laid still in the starting room, his mind a turbulent storm cloud of thoughts and complaints. He had fought the twin skeleton-knights nearly 50 times, and each time he was overcome and defeated. Their resistances to his offensive magic were too powerful and their own skills were top notch as well. It was as if this test was designed to be failed. Still, despite his frustrations, Sam continued to challenge the skeletons. He had little else to do. The options were to either starve to death repeatedly, train, or challenge. Sam had already trained for centuries and he certainly wasn¡¯t going to put up with starvation or dehydration. So he fought. - Sam¡¯s left arm hung loose, dangling by frayed skin. His blood covered the floor of the room. One of the skeleton-knights had its armor opened like a tin can; its bones were burned black by fire, and it sat unmoving on the floor. The other skeleton knight stood strong. It walked towards Sam with its blade raised high. ¡®Another wasted run,¡¯ Sam lamented under his breath, his shoulders dropping in resignation. ¡°Why do you even try?¡± His father¡¯s voice echoed in his head again. It was painful. Sam¡¯s heart hurt worse than his shattered body. Sam grit his teeth as his thoughts plagued him. How often had he surrendered in the past? Hadn¡¯t he vowed long ago to no longer give up on the things he desired? Had this ¡®Tutorial¡¯ made him weak? A spark was born in Sam¡¯s heart. The spark flashed and grew, igniting into a flame. Sam¡¯s shoulders perked up. He gnashed his teeth and leaned forward. His will wouldn¡¯t let him fall here. He knew, deep in his heart he was stronger than this! The fire in Sam¡¯s heart exploded into a raging inferno, forging his resolve! Sam roared aloud as he cast Restoration magics on his arm to staunch the bleeding. Their effect was threefold the norm, and his arm regenerated in full. At the same time, a blinding light was unleashed, forcing the skeleton-knight away. The monster howled as its bones steamed. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. It was only then that Sam understood what Roland¡¯s book had meant when it described Restoration magic as a magic of Faith. Faith didn¡¯t imply a deity. Faith didn¡¯t require a religion. It mattered not what one believed in, only the strength of their belief. So long as one believed in themselves, that would be enough! When Sam regained faith in his own convictions, he unleashed a power that had previously been hidden. The reason many countries dubbed Restoration as ¡®Holy Magic¡¯ was then made apparent: it could not only heal the living, but it could also heal undeath. Wielding a surging new power, Sam brought down a torrent of light upon the last skeleton, banishing it from the realm of the living. ¡°Dust to dust,¡± he spoke, finally understanding many things about magic that he hadn¡¯t before. For the first time in over a century, Sam realized that he had only begun to scratch the surface of the arcane. Sam collapsed. He fell backwards onto the floor, his body weak and his mind unsettled. Stone rumbled and the room shook. Across the room, a blocked doorway parted like the Red Sea, revealing the path onwards. - Sam took several hours to recover from the battle against the skeletons. A part of him wanted to rush onwards and see what the next stage of this dungeon would hold, but another part of him oddly wanted to stay back and wait until he was fully prepared to go on. A third part of him was terrified. Each threat he faced so far had been stronger than the last. What kind of unreasonable foe would this ¡®Tutorial¡¯ make him face next? Pushing those thoughts behind him, Sam approached the revealed doorway and entered. He found himself in a circular room with a small desk in the center. On the desk sat a new book; its leather-bindings dusty and unmarked. Sam sighed in relief at not having to face anotherenemy. He walked to the book and lifted its cover, revealing the title page: ¡®Braxia Bestiary and Survival Guide¡¯. At first Sam was confused, then he recounted how much the book on magic had helped him in passing the last two rooms. Clearly he would need to study this Bestiary in order to overcome whatever hurdles laid ahead. Deciding to memorize the booklet in its entirety before moving on, Sam sat down and began reading. Sam killed himself to reset six times in order to complete his reading and memorization of the Bestiary. Now that he could wield Holy magic, the skeleton knights proved pure fodder to him. Albeit he still enjoyed dueling with the first one to keep an edge to his combat skills. Fighting two on one was just a ridiculous notion, though. The Bestiary covered the entire ¡®Braxia Continent¡¯ location by location. It went over environments, plant life, and animals/monsters that inhabited each location. Sam wasn¡¯t certain where this ¡®Braxia¡¯ was. For all he knew he could be trapped in a dungeon on said continent. Thus he studied dutifully. The information could only be helpful. The book covered shelter making, edible plants, and the proper ways to clean and gut prey. It was explicit and extremely detailed. Sam never was weak to gore, so he handled it fine. He had even enjoyed fishing and hunting on occasion before he was trapped in the ¡®tutorial¡¯. Oddly, though, when he tried to think back on the times he fished or hunted, he couldn¡¯t quite remember them in detail. He couldn¡¯t even remember who he went with... The Bestiary covered individual species of monsters, where they lived, and how to defeat them. The goblin from the first room was known as a Goblin Warleader, and apparently such beasts only show their true strength when leading armies of their brethren into battle. Sam was embarrassed at struggling over such a weak foe for so long. The skeleton-knights were correctly known as ¡®Death Knights¡¯ or ¡®Skulkers¡¯. They were higher tiered undead renowned for their magic resistant armors but, again, showed only limited magic capabilities and were not close to the level of full on Liches. Sam broke into a cold sweat as he read about stronger and stronger monsters. The beings he struggled so hard against had only just been the tips of the proverbial icebergs¡­ Two things became clear. Sam had no chance at fighting the higher tiered monsters yet, and he desperately needed to learn magic beyond the basics. His moment of breakthrough in Holy magic had been a fluke. He couldn¡¯t keep relying on flukes. And so Sam studied his Bestiary. 8. The Jungle Sam walked forward along a beaten dirt path. Massive trees stretched high on both sides of him. The undergrowth was thick, but had been cut back. He had used this path many times now. The survivalist book hadn¡¯t been a random gift. The next ¡®area¡¯ of the dungeon was a massive forest. At first Sam was surprised, thinking he had escaped. Then he noticed that the ¡®sky¡¯ was merely painted on and the sun was only a glowing rock. The ¡®Sun¡¯ rock dimmed each night and dawned each morning. The ¡®Jungle¡¯ -as Sam had taken to calling it- was massive. He had explored it for nearly 10 full days but hadn¡¯t found a single wall, construct, or barrier. The doorway he entered from was somewhere in the middle of the room, he assumed. Without headings or any directive, Sam could only slowly start mapping out the jungle in order to find the exit. - A low growl sounded out from a nearby bush. Sam jumped back and drew a longsword, something he had pilfered from the Death Knights and altered to better suit himself. Every monster in the jungle was vicious, hard to deal with, and -worst of all- extremely fast. A shadow leapt forward and Sam barely reacted in time, stopping a clawed hand inches from his eyes. It was another Stone Leopard. Possessing metallic claws, stone-hard fur, and a penchant for ambushes, these predators had been Sam¡¯s worst foes in the jungle. He had already died twice at their feet. As quickly as the Leopard attacked, it retreated into the underbrush, disappearing like a shadow at sunset. Sam cast the Cabalist spell ¡®Life Detect¡¯ on his eyes, but the foliage, bugs, and birds masked the hunter. ¡°Shit,¡± he cursed as he put his back to the trunk of a large root system. The bushes opposite him rustled, and soon enough the Leopard showed itself¡­ Along with two friends. Sam¡¯s eyes went wide. Stone Leopards were supposed to be solitary hunters. Why were three working together? Before he even finished preparing, the beasts launched their assault. Sam ducked the first swipe and blocked the second. The third beast¡¯s blow landed true, ripping up his side and making blood spray across the jungle floor. It was a mortal wound. Trying to restore it would only prolong his suffering at the hands of the beasts. Sam roared with defiance. He knew he was going to die, but he certainly wasn¡¯t going to die alone. With a newfound speed, Sam ripped the first Leopard in half with his blade. The swing opened his own wounds further and exposed his guard to the other Leopards. The beasts took advantage and cut into Sam, aiming to kill him quickly. With the last bit of willpower he had left, Sam unleashed a torrent of fire, bathing the world in unbridled flames. ¡°Hell Storm!¡± He cried the spell¡¯s name with laughter in his voice. Cracks formed along his body, glowing red from raw mana. Then he burst in a whorl of fire and death, killing both himself and the Leopards.
Welcome to the Tutorial!
Muttering under his breath, Sam stood and set out, intent of surviving longer this time around. He had yet to find a single boundary wall in the jungle-stage yet, but he was certain they existed. It was difficult to explore. Between the poisonous plants, dangerous pitfalls, and monstrous animal life, the Jungle was the hardest challenge Sam had yet to face. It wasn¡¯t something he could brute force his way through. No matter how proficient he was at magic, he couldn¡¯t cast spells faster than the Leopards could cut his throat. No matter how strong he was in combat, he couldn¡¯t stop the Sickle Weasels from slitting his throat in his sleep. His body¡¯s durability had no chance at fighting the Gransul Snake¡¯s poison, or the infectious bites of the Artillery Ants. Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. The Jungle was a miserable area filled with the most terrifying beasts imaginable. Sam decided that he¡¯d rather fight a dragon straight up than deal with the sheer mental stress that came with the Jungle. Still, he had no choice but to improve and succeed in the face of overwhelming odds. What other options did he have? And so Sam persevered. - Sam ducked under a paw strike, countering with a slash of his own. His blade dug into the Stone Leopard¡¯s soft underbelly. The monster cried in pain before it collapsed in a puddle of its own blood. Sam wiped down his sword but didn¡¯t sheathe it. He kept it in his free hand while walking up to the beast. Carefully he cut off the monster¡¯s pelt with the steady hand of an expert, stripping the skin, meat, and precious organs. The rest he buried in a shallow pit. Looking up at the canopy above, Sam took a moment to appreciate the fluttering light shining between the leaves. Even if the sun was fake, it¡¯s light was real. - Before he knew it, three years had passed. Sam had finally, after all that time, managed to reach one end of the jungle. The end he found was a painted mural, designed to trick the onlookers into thinking the treeline continued indefinitely. Only from up close could Sam even determine that it was actually a massive wall. This wall was where Sam built his first long-term campsite. He needed a marker, something to show where he¡¯d been in case his plan didn¡¯t work. While he could mentally map out most of the Jungle as he went, a lack of physical landmarks continued to hold him back from making true progress. Thus, his only option was to make the landmarks himself. Sam dragged the useful parts of a Leopard carcass back towards his campsite. He stayed wary of further attacks, but the ambushes had grown further and further apart over time. Most of the beasts in the forest now recognized him as a formidable foe and prefered to avoid him altogether. The reason Sam had been ambushed so many times after first arriving was due to the monster¡¯s abilities to detect mana and magic. Sam, due to being trained without others around, had entirely neglected his own leaking mana. Thankfully his book on survivability included details about masking one¡¯s aura. Now that Sam no longer gave off magic at every interval, most animals wouldn¡¯t be able to track him. His massive mana pool had, unknowingly, been his biggest weakness. Sam reached his campsite and tossed the carcass next to his firepit. He lit the flames and tossed several chunks of the Leopard meat into a pot and left it hanging over the fire. He also spread out the pelt to let it dry. With his meal cooking and a new pelt drying, Sam grabbed one of the trees he had downed earlier and dragged it towards the wall, where his construction was underway. It was only a basic lean-to, using the wall of Jungle to hold up part of the structure. Sam didn¡¯t need to be fancy, only effective. He continued working on his shelter until his ¡®stew¡¯ was hot enough to eat. He returned to his firepit and ate a terrible meal with bitter meat. It still tasted like heaven compared to the flesh of the goblin. Sam used his magic to set up wards around his campsite. Wards were a type of Ruin magic designed to activate if an enemy came too close. They could be avoided by humans easily if undisguised, but the animals in the jungle seemed to sense mana to find prey¡­ Thus they would be more likely to pounce on the runes than avoid them. To have the bait and trap be the same thing was the truest form of efficiency in Sam¡¯s eyes. Pragmatism incarnate. Sam climbed into his half-finished lean-to and closed his eyes, forcing himself sleep. Despite being asleep his body was completely aware of his surroundings. Years of sleeping in constant fear of ambush had trained Sam to be able to react to attacks even while unconscious. Paranoia was an acceptable side effect to safety. - Sam¡¯s plan to get through the ¡®Jungle¡¯ was simple. He intended to walk along the walls until he found the exit. He was certain the exit would be along one of the walls, and thus now that he had found one he only needed to keep following it. The jungle couldn¡¯t go on endlessly. His understanding of magic and dungeons was top notch after reading about them in both the Introductory Magic book and the Bestiary, and nothing was ever truly infinite. There was a chance the exit wasn¡¯t along one of the walls, though. Thus Sam opted to build the Lean-to at his starting location. He knew even with his mental mapping he could lose track of where he began his journey. Thus, if he came back to his Lean-to without finding the exit he would know for a fact the exit wasn¡¯t along one of the outer walls... He was also extremely wary. He knew that if he died he¡¯d have to reconstruct the lean-to from scratch again, and that was something he didn¡¯t want to deal with. Thus, Sam didn¡¯t begin his journey until he was certain he could survive in the Junglefor an extended period of time. 9. Into the Aether ¡°Finally,¡± said Sam, tears in his eyes. He hit his knees, letting his emotions show. After 10 years of walking the walls of the Jungle, being ambushed every day, and fighting innumerable monsters and plants, Sam had found the exit. He stood a full head taller than when he began the journey and his body was considerably more filled out. His muscles were stone-like and hard, and his face and arms were covered with scars from numerous battles. His beard had been recently shaved off, leaving only stubble behind. This had been the longest he¡¯d gone without ever dying in the Tutorial. Despite the sun being fake, his skin still tanned. In his happiness, Sam also felt a terrible sense of dread. He had wasted so much time in order to walk the walls¡­ And yet the exit was only five days away from the very entrance he came in from! He had merely chosen a bad direction to travel in the first day he entered the Jungle. Sam¡¯s soul was both crushed and elated at the same time. Now that he found the exit to the Jungle, he could take more reckless actions in the future. Dying wouldn¡¯t have such terrible consequences. Sam also noticed the changes in his body over the 10 years he walked the Jungle walls. He had grown taller and his scars from battle remained. Sam could easily clear the scars from his skin with restoration magic, but he refused to do so. Each one had been earned in the Jungle through life or death struggles. Every scar carried a memory, and each memory carried a lesson. The scar next to his heart taught him about trust. He had found an injured beast that showed no hostility and nurtured it back to health, wondering if he could finally have a companion¡­ Only for the monster to impale him while he slept three weeks later, nearly missing his vital organs. His heart suffered a wound deeper than any claws could reach on that day. The scar under his right eye taught him about offense and counters in fighting. It was something he never fully comprehended before until he met the ¡®Viletooth¡¯, a type of amazingly aggressive snake. Each scar was like a badge of honor, and Sam wore them with pride. - The exit to the jungle was a large stone corridor etched into one of the walls. At the end of the corridor Sam could see a flight of stairs leading upwards and he grew excited. After such a large trial, a part of him was expecting to find another book. That part of Sam wasn¡¯t wrong. The stairs lead to a small safe room. Much like the first two, it had a book in the center. ¡°Astronomy and Magic, Advanced Magic and Cabalism,¡± Sam read the name aloud, a smile on his face. The book detailed star systems, constellations, and their effects on certain magics. Ruin magic would grow in power depending on the cycles of the dual-moons whereas Cabala magicks varied based upon what stars were in the sky. The book also introduced advanced magic in each discpline and described the Aether planes, the 7 parallel worlds that housed the 7 Demon Lords, one for each of the disciplines of magic. The Demon Lords weren¡¯t conquistadors like the fantasy stories Sam pictured. Instead they ruled akin to Gods over their own planes of the Aether. They were higher beings and held little care for the mortal realms. - Sam spent years moving between the jungle and the new safe room. He hunted creatures for meat in the Jungle often, and used their pelts to build a soft bed to relax on when he slept. The Advanced Mechanics book opened Sam¡¯s eyes to many of the mysteries and secrets of magic. Everything he thought he knew was revolutionized, and his skills improved in leaps and bounds. - Using the fauna and monster ingredients from the Jungle, Sam finally progressed his alchemical skills. He used hollowed wooden and bone beakers of his own making. The lack of unreactive glass held him back slightly, since he didn¡¯t have a sterile environment to make his potions, thus their effects were diluted. Sam created potions of health, mana, fatigue, feather, shield, and flame resistance. He even developed potions that hardened dirt into a cement-like structure, allowing him to create more permanent dwellings rather than simple shelters. - Whenever he would get stuck on a subject in his new book, Sam would make a pilgrimage back to the prior safe rooms. He gathered all three of the books in his current abode at the end of the Jungle zone. By studying and comparing the writing in all three, Sam¡¯s magical studies advanced at unprecedented rates. His mind began to unlock the hardest secrets of the arcane.The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. - As the years passed, Sam noticed his body growing more robust to a point¡­ But then it suddenly stopped. When he reached the peak of his growth, Sam stopped aging. He assumed this was a feature of the tutorial, considering his strange immortality. It had been a long time since he had seen the blue screen message. He looked to be a man in his low thirties, robust, strong, and rugged. - Years turned into decades, and Sam became so absorbed into his magic studies that he didn¡¯t notice his old memories beginning to fade. He could remember key moments, but names and faces began to elude him. He still remembered his father¡¯s words, but he could no longer remember his father¡¯s face. Oddly, this provided some comfort to Sam. At the same time, these thoughts exposed his crippling loneliness. Sam missed people. He missed having friends he could hang around with. He missed having pets, and family, and communities. Sam missed being human. Still -despite his trepidations- Sam diligently continued studying magic. He had long since forgotten his original purpose behind such study, and instead opted to study magic to satisfy his own desires. He wanted to learn, and so he did. - Unaware of the actual time passing by, another three centuries came and went for Sam. His knowledge of the arcane and mystical grew. His powers swelled like the tides and he learned to call forth energies from beyond the mortal plane. He mastered magics pertaining to each of the Demon Lords, and could even summon forth their virulent energy through Conjuration. The Demon Lords, of course, loathed being summoned and would often make the very act something to regret¡­ Yet they could not harm Sam. They would play pranks on him at most. Each and every one of the seven Demon Lords came to respect Sam. They acted friendly with him and even offered him advice into mastering their individual school of magic. Having befriended the Seven Rulers of the Aether, Sam¡¯s level of study increased exponentially. Sam, of course, cared little for their help in the arcane. Rather, he summoned them to simply have someone to talk with. Even though the Demon Lords were vastly inhuman in their personalities and appearances, they provided companionship to Sam when he needed it the most. Oddly, the Demon Lords themselves enjoyed this relationship for the same reason. When mortals normally summoned them, already an incredibly rare occurrence, they always asked them to do things; to do battle, to teach, or to perform rituals. These were things they loathed. But Sam invited the Demon Lords not out of contract, but out of friendship. And so they paid him back in kind. - The seven Demon Lords were strange individuals. Belial, the God of Ruin, governed over the Aether Plane of Sadorra where his 10 sons served as guardians, each masters of Ruin magic in their own right. Belial¡¯s appearance was inhuman, often twisted and morphing like muddy water. Belial was incredibly prideful, but he tended to put up a strong front to hide his own kindnesses. Purson, the God of Conjuration, governed over the Aether Plane of Deterra where his many familiars and demons lived. He appeared to have the head of a lion and often would ride a bear. He tended to be the most savage of the Demon Lords, and usually solved problems by murdering and eating them. Gusion, the God of Cabalism, governed over the Aether Plane of Cairne, and was regarded as the wisest of the Demon Lords. Often when summoned she would take the form of a baboon. She was incredibly interested in the strange ¡®Tutorial¡¯ and often remarked how it didn¡¯t exist in any of the eight planes. Vendel, the God of Alchemy, governed over the Aether Plane of Sine where all manner of fantastic flora and fauna lived freely, facing no danger outside of their own making. She was often regarded as the most intelligent of the Demon Lords, but also the most foolish. She was also the only Demon Lord who preferred a fully human appearance, albeit she changed it from day to day on her whims. Rasta, the God of Illusion, governed over the Aether Plane of Fetta. He often appeared as a many-tentacled monster wearing a strange metal domed helmet. The strangest of the Demon Lords, Rasta lived in a world of illusions and had a hard time telling the difference between fantasy and reality. He was terrified of mustaches, for some reason. Cosal, the God of Manifestation, governed the Aether Plane of Tantiel. She appeared as a multi-armed woman with the head of an owl. Her personality was, perhaps, the most difficult to get along with. Cosal was a renowned pragmatist among the Demon Lords and tended to view the world in absolutes. The notion that morality was more complex than right or wrong eluded her. Zephyr, the God of Restoration, governed the Aether Plane of Halt. He most often took on the form of a goldfish, but he also enjoyed transforming into a giant honeybee as well. He was extremely gentle and kind, except to the undead. The only time Zephyr showed true passion was when confronted with the undead. He abhored undeath and vowed to oust it at all costs. Because of his gentle nature and passion against the undead, Zephyr was the most revered among the Demon Lords by the inhabitants of the Mortal Plane. - Five hundred years. Sam studied for five hundred years with the Demon Lords before he found a bottleneck. Perhaps bottleneck wasn¡¯t the right word for it; ''peak'' would be more appropriate. Sam had, at long last, discovered the very highest level of known magics in all the eight worlds. He could stand par with each of the Demon Lords in their own disciplines, albeit they held a slightly more absolute mastery of their individual schools. Intuitively, he could feel the proverbial ceiling above him. Deep down he felt his magic could improve further, but doing so would be a hard grind with little gain. It would take millennia to make his magic even a fraction of a percent stronger than it already was. Sam had reached the apex of all seven Aether realms, and he felt both oddly satisfied and a terrible sadness. He questioned his own existence and wondered, ¡®What do I do from here?¡¯ ¡­ The answer was obvious: enjoy life. Sam¡¯s memories of his previous existence were faint, but he remembered having fun with friends and going to parties. He remembered having dinners with his family and playing silly games. He remembered watching sports with his father about throwing and hitting a small, fast-moving ball. He couldn¡¯t remember the details, but he could remember the feelings¡­ And that was all that mattered. There was much more to life than magic. And so Sam, confident in himself, finally continued his journey through the ''Tutorial'', leaving the safe room behind him. 10. Sayonara The next room in the dungeon was a frozen tundra, a wasteland of ice stretching as far as the eye could see. The biting cold reached temperatures that would kill even the hardiest of men, but such trials were nothing in Sam¡¯s eyes. Sam roamed the tundra for four days, using powerful magics to subdue each and every beast that came for him. His power was God-like. The Yetis and Howlers held little sway over his conquest of their domain. Sam found the exit and left the Tundra as if it were a playground. - Room after room, trial after trial, Sam bowled his way through the ¡®Tutorial¡¯. His foes grew stronger and stronger, but he was undeterred. He became a force of nature, a hurricane ripping apart anything that dared stand before him. Sam found several more books, but none of them held any new information. His study under the Demon Lords had already covered such subjects, often in more detail. Sam continued on. - A Dragon roared, it¡¯s monstrous body rippling with magic. From its maw fire circled and lightning cracked. Sam raised his hand and circulated his mana, letting his magic flow like the water of a mighty river. A translucent shield sprang up from the ground, its form angled and sharp like a metal bunker. The dragon¡¯s breath smashed into the shield and the world shook. Sam didn¡¯t flinch. He began forming seals with his free hand, holding onto the shield with only half his mind. His fingers bent into odd shapes and angles, and arcane energies began to hover over him. Electrical flashes jumped from his body as raw mana built up. Even the dragon noticed the oddity; if mana were fire, the man in front of the beast could only be described as the sun. Sensing its own doom, the dragon unleashed its most powerful attack: a torrent of thunder and ash, an attack meant to drown volcanoes, an attack meant to alter the surface of planets. At the same time, Sam unleashed his own spell. Like the roar of a waterfall, a virulent surge of mana swept forth, overtaking the dragon¡¯s spell and then smothering the beast under an ocean of magic. Like an ant underfoot, the dragon¡¯s body crumbled into nothingness, stomped into dust. Sam had spent many years advancing through the dungeons and the tutorial. He stood over six feet tall, his brown hair wild and long hanging behind him. He wore a leather shirt, crafted from the hide of a Dire Crocodile. It not only provided protection from attacks, but hastened his own magical circulation. It was brown and plain, covered in shallow cuts and other wounds. His pants were Yeti fur with stitching down the seams, and his boots were wyvern scale. On his hip he carried a sword forged of steel and Marchrite, the hardest and most powerful metal known to even the Demon Lords themselves. The sword was unmarked and looked rather plain, with a straight edge tapering to a rounded point; it resembled a western hand-and-a-half sword with a straight crossguard and a pear-shaped pommel. The scabbard was also made of Wyvern Scale, known for its ability to resist cutting, and hung on his belt at a high angle. With the dragon down, Sam walked down the hallway into a new room.The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. It was another safe room. A new book sat in the middle, and Sam walked up to it, a budding excitement in his heart. With every new book, he always found interesting applications of magic from human perspectives; often humans proved to be more creative in their uses of the arcane than the Demon Lords due to simple variety. He threw open the cover and read the title page¡­ ¡°The Mortal Realm: Common Mythos, Currency Exchange, Markets, Common Sense, and Politics.¡± Sam¡¯s heart sank. He had hoped for more useful knowledge. He wanted powerful information that would unlock the furthest reaches of the arcane, or perhaps teach him new skills in crafting, forging, or alchemy. Instead he was offered a book of ¡®common sense¡¯... Every book Sam had been given introduced important skills and other things necessary to his survival in the ¡®Tutorial¡¯. He recalled how he had been given a book on surviving the wild just before the first ¡®wild¡¯ stage, the Jungle. He recalled how the book on elementary magic had been given just before the skeletons that resisted normal magics were fought¡­ Did a book on the mortal world mean he was finally going to return to the mortal world? Was he finally going to leave the ¡®tutorial¡¯? Sam¡¯s eyes went wide as he looked up at the doorway across the room. It was ornate, gilded with golds and jewels. Next to the exit was a small leather backpack. Sam walked towards the exit and picked up the pack, searching through it. His first surprise was at how deep the pack went. It seemed to use feather magics and space bending Manifestation spells to create a large storage area¡­ And half the storage was filled with strange coins. Innumerable gold, silver, and copper coins poured from the pack. Sam panicked. He quickly backtracked through the dungeons and areas, collecting his potions, tools, weapons, and books. The new space-folding backpack enabled him to store all of it and bring it with him. It took him nearly four months alone to collect and organize everything from the earlier stages that he wished to keep. He even packed, preserved, and cleaned several years worth of foodstuffs. He knew not what he would face in the coming rooms ahead. He was still unconvinced that the end of the dungeon was in sight. - With everything of value collected, Sam opened and read through the final book. Whereas the Bestiary had detailed the natural environments of the Braxia Continent, the new book detailed the kingdoms and major cities of the Braxia Continent. From the Elven Cities in the Verisa Forest to the Dwarven Mine-Dungeons of the Southern Crown, a new world opened up before Sam. Each Kingdom used its own coins, but the Grantwell Empire¡¯s were universally accepted everywhere. Reading the book, Sam grew excited. As he learned about new places, fantastic sights, or unique peoples he grew more and more restless. He wanted to see this world. He wanted to explore it, make friends, and maybe even raise a family¡­ Oddly, Sam had another desire in his heart as well. He wanted to teach and train others. He wanted to open or join a school to pass on his knowledge of magic¡­ Sam felt as if this desire to teach existed in him before, too. He tried, desperately, to remember his life before the tutorial but nothing came to him. His past was like a blank slate. Only the absolute strongest memories or desires remained. - When Sam finally finished reading the newest book, he closed it with a smile. His preparations were finished. He stood up and walked towards the door¡­ Then he paused. For as long as he could remember, Sam had lived in the ¡®Tutorial¡¯. It had not only guided him, it raised him and taught him. It provided for him. It gave him purpose and it gave him strength. Sam¡¯s hands shook as he tried to reach for the door. He felt fear for the first time in a very, very long time, for the first time since he first faced the Goblin in the opening room¡­ ¡°Why do you even try?¡± His father¡¯s question echoed in his mind and the shaking stopped. Sam reached forward and threw open the door, revealing a blinding white light.
Congratulations! You have passed The Tutorial! Your reward is a basic understanding of all modern languages in Braxia. Warning: The User¡¯s respawn point will now be set to the peak of the World¡¯s Crown. If the user dies they will be revived three days later at their respawn point. Welcome to Braxia.
Side Chapter 1: The Multiverse In the beginning there was nothing, but nothing was boring. Nothing was balance. Balance wasn¡¯t interesting. So the first realm was created. The universe shuddered in joy as it explored itself. It created avatars, Gods, to watch over its new Realm, the Realm of Ruin. But the Gods of Ruin weren¡¯t kind. They were brutal and fought amongst one another. They became villains and attacked at the fringes of their Realm, threatening to destroy the Universe. So the Universe decided to create a Lord among the Gods, and so Belial was born. Belial forced the other Gods into submission, and imposed his Order onto the land. But this caused another problem. The Plane of Ruin wasn¡¯t balanced. The Universe became lopsided and threatened to end. Thus, the Universe created six more Planes, one for each branch of magic, in order to bring balance to existence. And to accompany those Planes, the Universe created six more Lords of Order. These Demons ruled their Planes, unaware of the Universe at large. The Lords only knew of the other Planes and the other Lords, but they did not interact.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. For thousands of years these seven Planes of Existence ruled the Aether, but still the Universe tilted. Something was out of balance. It was then that the Universe discovered an Eighth Element, the last and hidden branch of magic: Chaos. For Order cannot exist without Chaos. Thus a new Plane was created, the Mortal Plane, and Chaos was allowed to rule it. Thousands of years passed, but still the Planes weren¡¯t balanced. The Universe was at a loss. The Universe didn¡¯t understand. In a last ditch effort to comprehend, the Universe reached out and discovered it wasn¡¯t alone. It was only one among many. There was a multiverse. The Universe was still young and it asked its brethren for help. One offered a solution. To balance the Lords of Order, the Universe needed to create a Lord of Chaos. One to balance the Seven. And so the Universe accepted this solution, and took a soul from outside, from another Universe. This soul was exceedingly powerful, charged with the elements of Chaos from a higher ordered Universe. But, unlike the other Lords, this Lord couldn¡¯t simply be remodeled into its purpose. It was a completed soul already. It could only be remodeled through experience. This Lord needed to learn. Thus, a ¡®Tutorial¡¯ was born. 11. Welcome to Braxia When Sam¡¯s eyes opened, an endless sky stretched out in front of him. It was light-blue, like the color of a shallow pond in the midday. There were no clouds. The temperature was frigid. Sam stood up slowly, letting the accumulated snow shake off of him. Taking a deep breath, he noted the air was thin. Finally, the view hit Sam like a dragon¡¯s tail. He turned in a slow circle, staring out at the distant horizon. The world opened up in front of him like a storybook, and tears ran down his face. He was no longer in the ¡®Tutorial¡¯. Instead, now, he was standing on the very highest point of the tallest mountain on the continent of Braxia. Sam pulled his backpack off his back and pulled out his newest book, opening up to the map. Comparing the map to the other mountains in his view, he quickly ascertained the cardinal directions, as well as his own location. Sam screamed at the top of his lungs, a long guttural cry lacking any verbiage in any known language. It was something primal, a cross between joy and rage. It was a cry of existence; it was pure catharsis. Sam was free. - Sam considered the strange blue-screen that he had seen at the end of the dungeon. It mentioned that he would respawn at the top of the mountain whenever he died. Sam was tentative for a moment, but then he clenched his fists and unsheathed his sword. In one motion, he slit his own throat.
Welcome to Braxia!
Sam sucked in his first breath hard. He looked around and found he was still on the mountaintop, but now the sky was covered with a film of gray. The soft rumbling of thunder echoed in the distance. Sam stood up and looked at the horizon, only to find it shrouded in low-lying clouds. Clouds above and below gave the world an odd juxtaposition. Sam¡¯s armor, backpack, and sword all came with him. He checked over his body, and found his scars from the Jungle-level of the tutorial were still there. Finding the scars he so treasured gave him an amazing feeling of relief. Sam walked across the summit until he came to the place he had slit his own throat. The snow was reddened, but there was no sign of his body, as if it had simply vanished. For all intents and purposes, Sam was immortal. A few thoughts came to Sam. His spawn point was, undeniably, his greatest strength¡­ It was also his greatest weakness. If he ever made enemies in the future and they discovered where he respawned, it would be far too easy for them to simply put down a trap on the spot. Perhaps remodel the top of the mountain into an active volcano or some other obscene and horrid trap. Sam didn¡¯t imagine constantly coming to life in the middle of a lava pool would be an overly comfortable way to spend eternity. - In order to protect the mountaintop, Sam set out creating powerful safety measures. He erected a barrier around the entire peak and set up magic traps that would detonate with indescribable fury. He used illusion magic to deceive and repel anyone who dared approach his mountain home. Sam used all of his magic skills and his concrete potions to erect a stone temple. He used the Demon Lords¡¯ visages for statues and conjured powerful elemental beings to defend it. Sam wanted to desperately see the world, but his own safety came first. Ten years in the Jungle taught him that paranoia could be a powerful ally at times. - For 10 years Sam stayed at his mountain home, setting up defense measures and living leisurely. He had enough food stored to last him a century, but his own excitement for seeing the world at large began to overwhelm him. Afflicted by a powerful wanderlust, Sam stared out at the world with longing eyes. Every moment he spent on that mountaintop began to hurt his spirit. He wanted to see other people like him. He wanted to meet other humans. And so Sam finished his preparations. Using the star positions to foretell, he planned his departure for a clear, weatherless day. On a calm day in the 3rd Month, Sam finally began his journey down the mountain. His destination was the Kriegan Empire, the home of Archmage Roland, the author of the beginner¡¯s magic tome. As he climbed further and further down the mountain, the snowy icescape gave way to a forest of needled trees, each a different shade of dark-green. The smell of their pitch was familiar. Visions of a needle-tree covered in glowing lights and bulbous glass ornaments flashed in Sam¡¯s mind. Fragments of memories long forgotten swirled in the ether of his thoughts. He walked up to one of the trees and lightly touched a branch, letting the needles brush over his fingers. He noticed a small fruit-like object hanging from the branch and plucked it. It was hard and flakey, with concentric rings of strange tab-like protrusions. It did not taste good. Sam couldn¡¯t remember the name of the odd brown fruit, and he didn¡¯t find its taste as familiar as its image. Defeated, he simply tossed it aside and continued his hike down the mountainside. The further Sam descended the less often he was privy to distant views. The trees grew taller and more robust, their bark thick like the hide of a Yeti. The forest seemed to grow around him, and on occasion Sam took a moment to stand perfectly still and listen to the sounds of nature and breathe in the chilled mountain air. The wind tasted sweet like red fruits from the Jungle. The snow on the ground gradually began to thin, and the silence of the mountain peak ended with new birdsong. Jays and Weavers zipped overhead, gathering food for their hatching young. Sam found himself whistling along, sometimes adding to them lyrics of songs on the fringes of his memory.Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. Everything was interesting to him. He had forgotten much over the years, and he hoped to learn again about the world. He took his time and walked slow, enjoying every new sight and smell. - Sam traveled down the mountain using magic to supplant traditional climbing gear in harsher terrains. Chasms, cliffs, and rockslides were little danger to him. He had faced far harder foes in his years traveling the Tutorial. As he approached the base of the mountain, the area around Sam opened up into wide meadows. The trees grew sparse and he could see ahead for miles. Near the mountain he spotted a beaten dirt roadway with thin wagon marks stretching alongside the mountain. Judging by the road¡¯s direction, the northwards way would lead to a nearby township while the southbound road would circle around the mountain towards the Lazann Kingdom. Sam looked up at the sky, confirming the afternoon sun, and decided to head towards the town. While he could cast magic to improve his running speed and circle the mountain in an hour or two, Sam wanted to take in the scenery and enjoy his walk. It also helped that the Kriegan Empire he wanted to visit was to the north as well. - Sam followed the dirt road as it cut around hills and through meadows. The tall grasses on each side of the roadway were filled with colorful flowers and saplings. Sam guessed that the land here had been farmland as recently as 20 years ago. It didn¡¯t take long for nature to reclaim forgotten pastures. He predicted the surrounding lands would be a burly woodland within another two or three decades. As the road curved a particularly large hillside, a distant wall came into view. The wall was long and made of half-logs stacked vertically, forming ramparts. Outside the wall, farmland stretched for hundreds of yards, eventually reaching a line of simple fencing. Several men and women could be seen out in the fields planting seeds or tilling the land. They wore cotton-like clothing, mostly long-sleeved and weather-worn. The womenfolk wore long dresses while the men preferred suspenders and cufflinked shirts. They looked to be a rural, hardworking people. A few of the farmers noticed Sam and seemed to reel at the sight. Sam didn¡¯t blame them. He cut an impressive figure with his large muscles and scarred body. The sword on his hip and his beaten leather armors probably didn¡¯t help much, either. Most of the farmers, after getting a good look, averted their eyes. A few of the tougher looking menfolk leaned against their tools and glared, as if in challenge. Sam simply waved his hand and smiled, offering no hostility himself. This was the first time he had seen other people in many many years, and his excitement over that fact kept his mood from souring. A guardsman dressed in steel mail waved at Sam from the nearby gate, ¡°Greetings, traveler! You must be quite accomplished to travel the South Road. What purpose do you have in our town of Madda?¡± Tufts of red hair leaked out of his helmet and his frame was rather large. He had the build of a professional wrestler. The guard looked as if he had seen his fair share of combat over the years. In his right hand was a long spear with a black haft. ¡°M-my n-name¡¯s Sam,¡± Sam stuttered with a smile, his words slow and pronounced harsh. He hadn¡¯t spoken aloud much outside of magic chants, considering the Demon Lords usually communicated telepathically. ¡°I¡¯m on a j-journey to the K-kriegan Emp-p-pire. I hoped to st-stay the night at an inn.¡± ¡°You¡¯ve got some pretty sturdy looking armor there. And the sword at your hip looks sharp,¡± said the guard as he rubbed his chin, paying no mind to Sam¡¯s poor communication skills. His voice was filled with curiosity. ¡°Do you have any identification papers with you?¡± ¡°Id-identification papers?¡± Sam asked. ¡°Yes, you¡¯re coming up the Southern Road, so I can only assume you¡¯re a Knight from Lazann, or perhaps a Hunter from the Guild. Do you have proof of citizenship there, or maybe a Guild card?¡± ¡°I ha-have n-none of those things. I¡¯ve lived my l-life on the m-mount-m-m¡­ the World¡¯s Crown,¡± Sam replied, deciding a half-truth might help him get through the village gate. The shame of his poor speaking was beginning to take a toll on him. ¡°The mountain? There were a few sparse homesteads on the mountainsides, but with the increased monster activity over the last ten years we assumed all of them were overrun,¡± the guard replied in a quiet voice. ¡°In-increased monster activity?¡± Sam asked. When he lived at the peak it seemed most monster habitats in the upper mountain were barren. Why was the base of the mountain dealing with increased monster activity? The lack of monsters was something Sam had found strange. He set up a ton of countermeasures to deal with monster activity at his spawn point over the last decade, but hardly any monsters ever appeared. The few that did weren¡¯t aggressive at all. In his book on habitats, the World¡¯s Crown was supposed to have numerous stronger monsters near the peak¡­ ¡°Wait, th-the last ten years?¡± Sam asked, suddenly realizing something. ¡°Aye, lad,¡± replied the guard. ¡°Listen, if you really are from the mountain then the mayor will want to ask you a few questions. He¡¯s been wanting to send a survey crew to the mountain for a few¡ª¡± The guard stopped mid sentence and his eyes went wide. He started yelling, ¡°SHIT! Sound the alarm! Oy, Bartson, get your boys out of there!¡± The guard¡¯s sudden change in tone startled Sam, who took a step back. It was at that moment he finally sensed a small number of approaching mana sources. They had been so small he didn¡¯t take note of them before. Turning quick, Sam caught sight of a dog-shaped demon. He recognized the beast as a ¡®Turtle Wolf¡¯, a type of territorial pack monster that possessed a defensive shell. It was physically weaker and slower to compensate for those defenses, having only the same level of power as a Goblin Warleader¡ªthe first foe Sam ever fought. The red-headed guard took off at a dead sprint towards the beasts. A loud bell began booming over the area. The farmers in the field started to scatter, but they were all moving too slow. A monster was going to claim a life before the guard could get there. Sam felt confused for a moment. To him, everyone looked to be moving in slow-motion¡­ Then he realized they weren¡¯t moving slow, he was just so accustomed to high-speed movements that they seemed slow to him. Not willing to let one of the first humans he¡¯d met since coming to the mortal plane die, Sam gripped his scabbard and unsheathed his blade. He jogged forward at an easy pace and stopped a Turtle Wolf¡¯s paw inches from its intended victim. To all the farmers and the red-headed guard, Sam simply vanished from where he stood and reappeared in front of the monster. A powerful wind roared in his wake, knocking several people off their feet as they stared on in shock. Three more Turtle Wolves leapt the fencing from the overgrown fields, each targeting a different farmer. Sam frowned. In one motion, he slashed up and cut the first wolf in two. In a flash, he jumped nearly 100 yards and split the skull of a second and then a third beast. Finally, he charged a small Ruin magic and tossed it, boring a hole through the last monster¡¯s chest and killing it instantly. Sam¡¯s frown turned into a smile as he pivoted to face the people he saved, only to find them staring at him in much the same manner they stared at the monsters. The red-headed guard ran up to Sam, his eyes wide. He huffed a few times to catch his breath. ¡°I¡¯m very sorry for my disrespect, Mr. Sam,¡± the guard said as he bowed, his tone far more formal than before. ¡°I hadn¡¯t realized. You must be an undercover ¡®A¡¯ ranked or higher member of the Guild. Please, allow me guide you to the mayor of the town.¡± As he finished saying that three more guards appeared from the town walls, each walking slow, the amazement on their faces clear as day. ¡°Charlie, Jack, Will, clean up the corpses. Afterwards, Charlie you take over my spot on the wall while I guide our guest, here,¡± the redhead called. The other three guards nodded in affirmation. Sam decided it would be troublesome to dispute his status with the guard. Perhaps the mayor would be more reasonable. Sam followed the redhead and noted how quickly the farmers cleared a path for them. All of the menfolks¡¯ expressions had changed. Where some had viewed Sam with challenge in their eyes before, now there was only fear and reverence. 12. The Guild The town opened up before Sam like a storybook. Just past the gate was a wooden tower holding a large bell. The bell hummed deep and low, the metal reverbing like a guitar string. The dirt-paved street spread and split, branching forward into a bazaar. People darted about, each conscious of the Southern Gate, the place Sam entered from. All work seemed to have stopped. Smells both good and bad floated about, mixing into strange concoctions and cocktails before drawing Sam¡¯s mind away. Sam followed the red-headed guard who finally introduced himself as Riben. He never offered a last name. As the pair walked, Sam looked about the town without reserve. He marveled at the wooden buildings and their ceramic-tiled rooftops. From businesses to homesteads, from farms to smithies, each building told a story. Minutes passed, and sure enough the town came back to life. People began talking, their words like the music of birdsong. Sam listened to merchants barter in feverish tones, he watched as warriors sold off their spoils, and he hummed along to a musician¡¯s song. The laughter of children echoed on the fringes of the market. Peddlers cried out, displaying their wares. Womenfolk beat rugs, letting dust explode into the street gutters. Sam''s chest filled with an indescribable sensation, with a tingling of joy. His heart felt peace as distant memories flashed in his head. He thought back to his own hometown and the hustle and bustle of life. Before Sam stretched out an endless display of humanity, and his heart wept with joy. ¡°You seem pleased with the town, Mr. Sam,¡± remarked the guard Riben. ¡°I-it has been¡­¡± Sam paused for a moment, taking his time to select the right words and avoid his stutter, ¡°It has been a long time since I¡¯ve seen something so beautiful.¡± ¡°Beautiful?¡± Riben asked, his tone almost mocking. ¡°It¡¯s a dirty mud street in a backwater town. I¡¯m certain someone of your standing has seen the Capital of Lazann, or perhaps the Cliff-homes of Carousel.¡± ¡°No,¡± Sam replied with a soft voice. ¡°This town¡­ Is beautiful.¡± Riben shrugged his shoulders, ¡°If you say so, Mr. Sam.¡± - They stopped in front of a two-story building with dark-brown cedar shakes for siding. Unlike most buildings, this one had actual glass in the windows. The wide doorway looked to be heavy and firm. A small signboard hung over the street, reading: ¡°Hunter¡¯s Guild.¡± ¡°The Mayor is also the guildmaster in our small charter branch,¡± said Riben as he pushed open the door and held it for Sam. The hinges groaned like dying men. The large room resembled a restaurant with tables and chairs scattered about. Men and women dressed in armors and elaborate coats were drinking and making merry. The day was near its end, after all. A strange line popped into Sam¡¯s head from his fragmented memories, ¡®It¡¯s five-o''clock somewhere.¡¯ In the back of the room were two receptionists behind their own desks. To the side of the receptionists was a small bulletin-board with numerous wooden planks hanging from it. Each plank had strange characters written on it that Sam had trouble reading from a distance. To the opposite side of the receptionists stood a narrow staircase leading to the second floor. The walls of the room were decorated with animal pelts, busts, paintings, swords, and an assortment of the wooden planks from the bulletin-board. One particular section of wall had a rowboat¡¯s oar hanging like a trophy. In the center of the room was a small stage with a woman singing. Next to her was a man plucking the strings of a guitar-like instrument. Sam found his foot tapping along to the upbeat ditty. ¡°The mayor has his office on the second floor,¡± said Riben as he lead the way. Sam felt eyes watching him. He scanned the room and identified one table with a small group of warriors at it keeping careful tabs on him. They seemed on edge. Sam surmised they could sense his strength in some manner, even if he kept his mana from leaking. The people at that table were particularly strong in comparison to the rest of the room, with a few of them being close to matching a Death Knight in strength. Of course Sam¡¯s guesses were pure conjecture based upon the amount of mana each person leaked. Sam thought back to his time in the Jungle and wanted to shake his head. These people would never have survived there. Sam noted that¡ªwhen he scanned them¡ªthe strongest three shrank back, as if they were struck with a club. The strongest man, in particular, went pale and came close to falling over his chair backwards; it looked like he¡¯d seen a ghost. Sam couldn¡¯t help but grin as he followed Riben up the stairway. He felt bad for scaring them, but part of him wanted to laugh. He considered speaking with them later. The top of the stairs opened into a short hallway with three doors. Riben walked to the furthest and knocked, ¡°Mayor Terson, are you in?¡± ¡°Hm, what?!¡± Came a rasping aged voice from the other side of the door¡ªwhich was soon followed by a shattering sound. Black smoke began coming out from under the doorframe. Riben started to panic at the sight. He grabbed the doorknob and pulled hard, but the door didn¡¯t budge. You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. ¡°Step back,¡± said Riben as he looked to kick down the door. ¡°Let me,¡± said Sam as he stepped forward, putting one hand on Riben¡¯s shoulder. Riben¡¯s eyes lost focus for a moment, but then he nodded in affirmation. Sam stepped up to the door and plunged his hands through it at the hinges. Wood splintered and popped; finger-holes opened in the doorway like gunshots. Without effort, Sam ripped the door off its frame, shattering the metal hinges like glass. Black smoke poured from the room and began filling the hallway. A lanky old man with white hair and a rounded white beard limped out from the opened doorway, coughing and waving his hands to help himself breathe. The old man wore a yellow jumpsuit¡ªstained black from the smoke¡ªand a pair of crystal goggles. He looked more like a mechanic than a mayor. ¡°Thanks my boys,¡± said the old man with a dirt-stained grin, his teeth black like charcoal. ¡°Now, who are you?¡± ¡°This man came up the South Road and killed a pack of Turtle Wolves in an instant, ¡± said Riben. ¡°He claims he¡¯s from the mountain.¡± ¡°Hoh,¡± remarked the old man as he stretched his back a bit. ¡°Um, sh-shouldn¡¯t we take care of the smoke f-first?¡± Asked Sam as he pointed towards a pile of shattered bottles and a caustic black liquid spreading across the floor. ¡°Nah, don¡¯t worry about that stuff. I¡¯ll get Jane to clean it up later,¡± said the old man with a wave of his hand. ¡°Come, why don¡¯t we continue our talk at a table downstairs. From your story it seems neither of you has eaten yet.¡± - Sam followed Riben and the Mayor down the stairs and to an empty table. Before Sam even had a chance to say anything, the Mayor was ordering food. Riben explained exactly what happened during his time at the gate, starting from Sam appearing on the horizon to his takedown of the Turtle Wolves. - ¡°Ah, I see. So, Mr. Sam, are you a member of the guild or from the Lazann Kingdom?¡± Asked the Mayor. ¡°No. I¡¯m from the m-mountain,¡± replied Sam with a quiet voice. ¡°Is that so? Then perhaps you may know why the monsters from the mountain suddenly changed about ten years ago?¡± Asked the Mayor, his voice filled with excitement. ¡°Yes,¡± said Sam as he measured his words. ¡°Ten y-years ago, a new monster appeared on the p-peak of the mountain.¡± ¡°What kind of monster?¡± The Mayor asked, almost jumping from his seat. ¡°Don¡¯t know,¡± Sam replied. ¡°Ah,¡± the Mayor deflated, ¡°that makes sense¡­ Oh, while we¡¯re waiting for our food why don¡¯t we register you?¡± ¡°R-register me?¡± Sam asked. ¡°Yes. From what Riben said you have the skills of an ¡®A¡¯ rank. You¡¯ll have a hard time entering other cities or Kingdoms without some form of identification. A Hunter¡¯s Guild card would help you a lot with that¡­¡± Sam stopped for a moment to think about the offer. It sounded too good to be true. ¡°What¡¯s the catch?¡± Sam asked, managing to stop his stutter. ¡°Well, we¡¯ll use a ¡®C¡¯ Crystal to measure your ¡®Status¡¯. So if you have anything you really want to keep secret, that could be a ¡®catch¡¯,¡± the Mayor replied, a glint in his eyes. ¡°We¡¯ll also require you to help any nearby branches of the Guild in the event of a major monster attack, but from your intervention with the Turtle Wolves I don¡¯t think that will be a problem.¡± The word ¡®Status¡¯ evoked several buried memories for Sam. He held an innate understanding of what the ¡®Status¡¯ would look like¡­ And he was terrified of his own. He had long surpassed the limits of mortal men. Would these people consider him a monster if they saw his ¡®Status¡¯? Was there any way for him to view it without using a ¡®C¡¯ Crystal? ¡°I can see you¡¯re worried,¡± said the Mayor with a sly look on his face. ¡°How about I let you use a ¡®C¡¯ Crystal first. You don¡¯t have to show us the result unless you want to.¡± Sam was shocked at the proposal, ¡°W-why would you do that for me?¡± He asked. ¡°You did just save a few of our citizen¡¯s lives earlier. Not to mention peeling my door off the hinges probably saved my lungs,¡± the Mayor replied. Sam thought for a moment, but then he nodded. - Sam followed the Mayor past the receptionist desks into a small backroom. The old man rifled through several drawers and pulled out a clear crystal. Sam could feel the pulse of magic within it. ¡°Simply put a drop of your blood on it and then charge it with mana,¡± said the Mayor. ¡°If you don¡¯t want to share it, wipe your blood off and input your mana again to clear the crystal.¡± Sam took the crystal in his hand. It felt hard and cold, but there was a warm magic surging through it just under the surface. Sam bit his thumb and let a drop of blood fall onto the crystal which began to whir and buzz. Sam drew out a string of mana and let it touch the crystal. He watched in awe as the crystal reacted to the magic and the spell formations exploded forth, processing tons of information in an instant. Sam¡¯s eyes lost focus as a blue screen popped up in front of him, something he wasn¡¯t unaccustomed to.
Name: Sampson La¡¯Gaun Race: Lord of Chaos Age: 3521 Years Strength: 56,425 Speed: 61,811 Accuracy: 143,538 Stamina: 640,345 Intelligence: 1,450,485
Sam tilted his head to the side. He always thought he was a human. Why was his race ¡®Lord of Chaos¡¯? He never read about such a race in his Bestiary¡­ Sam was right about something, he didn¡¯t want to show this ¡®Status¡¯ to anyone. Following the Mayor¡¯s instructions, Sam cleared the display. ¡°Sorry, but I can¡¯t join your Guild,¡± said Sam without a single stutter as he handed over the cleared crystal. ¡°No, that¡¯s fine. I didn¡¯t expect you to. You¡¯re clearly strong enough to be ¡®S¡¯ ranked, anyways. Not like our Guild would be much use to you,¡± replied the Mayor, his face bitter. ¡°Our food should be coming out soon. Why don¡¯t you go join Riben. I¡¯ll be out soon.¡± ¡°Alright,¡± Sam replied and gave the old Mayor a smile. - As soon as Sam stepped out of the room, the Mayor poured magic into the crystal in his hands using a strange method and a familiar blue screen opened up in front of him. ¡°My God¡­¡± 13. Northwards Again Sam¡¯s ability to perceive and sense mana eclipsed even the most powerful of monsters in existence. How could the Mayor¡¯s mana usage in probing the crystal elude him? Answer: it didn¡¯t. Sam stopped and turned around, re-entering the room and finding the Mayor sitting down in a cold sweat. Sam didn¡¯t hesitate. He took the crystal from the Mayor¡¯s hand and crushed it, using his fingers like a vice. The crystal emitted a popping sound, and only powder remained. The Mayor looked up at Sam, his eyes languid. ¡°You¡¯re a God,¡± he remarked, his voice tired. ¡°No,¡± said Sam. ¡°I¡¯m just a man.¡± Sam stared at the Mayor for a moment, his face twisted into a scowl. He had hoped that humans, his own kind, could be trusted. The scar on his chest ached, and he thought back to his time in the jungle. ¡°It seems trust is something to be earned, even among humans,¡± Sam whispered as he turned to leave. ¡°W-wait,¡± said the Mayor as he jumped to his feet. ¡°Take this.¡± Sam stopped. The Mayor was holding a wooden card. On it was a picture of Sam¡¯s face and a Cabalist Rune. ¡°What is this?¡± Sam asked. ¡°It¡¯s an ¡®S¡¯ rank Guild Card. You should be ¡®X¡¯ or ¡®Z¡¯ ranked, but only a major Guild office can administer those. ¡®S¡¯ is for people who surpass the whole of a Branch office.¡± ¡°Does this have my information on it? From the Crystal?¡± ¡°No,¡± the Mayor replied. ¡°It only has your name and face. It will record any achievements you have for the Guild, too. The only achievement on it right now is ¡®surveying the World¡¯s Crown¡¯.¡± Sam hesitated for a moment but then pocketed the card. ¡°You want to blend in, right? I won¡¯t tell a soul,¡± said the Mayor, his voice rasping. ¡°Good,¡± Sam remarked with a grin. ¡°Come. Let¡¯s eat dinner.¡± The two returned to the dining room and were served plates of potatoes and meat all slathered in gravy. Sam¡¯s eyes watered at the smell. His thoughts revolved and memories played in his head. It had been a long time since he enjoyed a proper meal. The cuisine of Braxia, while not as advanced as Sam¡¯s old world, was far from barbaric. It was human nature to seek out ways to improve tastes and flavors. Sam cried. Tears ran down his face with each bite. The flavors, while foreign, were nostalgic. The entire Guild Hall fell quiet at the spectacle. Several of the weaker men¡ªthose who couldn¡¯t feel or sense Sam¡¯s own strength¡ªwere left confused¡­ But the rest could sense it. They could almost see the illusion of a lion enjoying the meat of a gazelle after fasting on reeds for a year. In this case, 3000 years. With the meal finished, Sam recollected himself and wiped his reddened eyes. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± he said in a quiet voice. ¡°It has been a long time since I¡¯ve enjoyed a real meal.¡± ¡°When you lived on the mountain, did you live alone?¡± Asked the guard Riben. ¡°Yes,¡± said Sam. ¡°Come here brother,¡± said Riben as he threw an arm around Sam¡¯s shoulder, holding him in a side hug. It was a show of solidarity¡ªa moment of brotherhood. Riben understood the pains and torments of cooking his own food. The two were united in their bachelorhood. Sam and Riben¡¯s moment didn¡¯t last long. Three additional chairs were pulled up to their table. Two men and one woman, the three Sam had terrified earlier. ¡°Hello, my name is Gyre and I want to apologize for trying to probe you earlier,¡± said the Leader, a large man with shaggy black hair and a scar running down his right eye. Sam waved his hand, dismissing Gyre¡¯s apology. ¡°Don¡¯t mind it,¡± he replied. ¡°I shouldn¡¯t have intimidated you or your friends¡­ Oh, but I did want to know: how did you recognize my strength in the first place? I thought I made myself immune to such things.¡± Gyre seemed relieved at being forgiven. The tension drained out of him like a cut spring. ¡°Because you don¡¯t have any mana,¡± said Gyre. ¡°Normally people give off mana so you can tell how strong they are, but you? Nothing. I still feel nothing, even now. That¡¯s not normal, and in this world ¡®not normal¡¯ is usually terrifying.¡± ¡°Ah!¡± Sam exclaimed, understanding. ¡°Where I lived, monsters could sense mana. I had to learn not to give it off at all in order to survive.¡± The entire table reeled at Sam¡¯s comment. ¡°Monsters that can sense mana? They must be ¡®S¡¯ ranked at the least,¡± commented Riben. The Mayor covered his face with his hand. His expression reeked of exasperation. ¡°Should I give off mana when among people?¡± Sam asked, his tone innocent. ¡°And if so, how much?¡± ¡°Y-you can control your mana that well!?¡± Gyre asked. The Mayor set his forehead down against the table and groaned. ¡°Sam, you aren¡¯t helping yourself if you want to blend in with normal folks,¡± said the Mayor without lifting his head. - The discussion at the table eventually turned away from Sam¡¯s abnormalities to his goals. He informed the others of his goal to reach the Kriegan Empire and settle down there. Perhaps become a teacher and start a family¡­ The thought of someone as skilled as Sam teaching inspired something in Gyre and Riben. The two of them locked eyes and nodded. ¡°Sam, Riben and I will take a leave of absence from Madda. We¡¯ll guide you to the Kriegan Capital,¡± said Gyre. Sam, of course, was overwhelmed with joy at the proposition and agreed. The details were hammered out and it was decided that Sam, Riben, and Gyre would leave the Town of Madda at daybreak on foot. Riben and Gyre wanted to spend an extra day to collect necessities for the trip, but Sam assured them he had enough supplies for everyone. He even went so far as to pull out the stripped leg of a yeti from his backpack storage to convince them. This only made the Mayor bang his head against the table harder than before; his rounded beard crinkled and bent beneath him, plushing outwards like a pillow. After dinner the sun had set and the world was covered in a blanket of darkness. The Mayor guided Sam to a local inn. - Sam woke before sunrise. Parched, he pulled a water pouch from his backpack and drained it. His wild-brown hair became tangled. He moved like a zombie; the bed had been unkind to him. Having gone years without more than a mat of beast skins, Sam wasn¡¯t used to the straw mattress. Rubbing his back, Sam started to dress himself. Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. - The morning air gave Sam a chill. Birds screeched and sang, fluttering about in the dawn gray. Riben and Gyre were waiting, each dressed in the clothes of a traveler. They wore wind-scarred cloaks and carried their weapons openly, as if in challenge to any who would try them. Gyre carried a two-handed sword, much too large for a sheath, on his right shoulder at an angle. A small pouch on his hip held the pommel, taking most of the load off by redistributing it. Riben simply used his spear as a walking stick. ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± said Sam as he grabbed the hems of his own cloak and started making way towards the North Gate. The town of Madda was still and quiet. Only the hardiest of workers and the unsleeping were awake and moving. The summers months were just starting to hit full swing, but the mornings remembered the cold of winter. The North Gate was guarded by a short man wearing the same ¡®uniform¡¯ Riben had worn the day before. The three travelers showed their identification and were allowed to pass unaccosted. The road north was accompanied by wide plains and rolling hills. Farmland stretched for miles and miles, with barns and farmhouses scattered about with naught more than thin glades dividing their plots. Sam revelled in the sights. He had been worried, after seeing the South Gate¡¯s little farmland, that the town suffered from food shortages. He was content in knowing that Madda possessed a multitude of farmland opposite the side of the World¡¯s Crown where the monster activity was few and far between. - The road stretched on and soon the trio lost sight of Madda. As the miles passed, the glades between the farms grew thicker and more robust. Soon, the travelers saw more of trees than wheat. Despite the woodland around them, the path remained wide and true, untouched by mother nature. Sam could feel magic beneath his feet, no doubt used in the road¡¯s construction in an ancient time. Such currents of mana felt nostalgic to him. Riben, overtaken by the boredom of weary travel, began singing. He knew a plethora of rhymes and Sam enjoyed most of them. The sun rose and the sun began to fall. The trio stopped by the wide trunk of a hard-barked tree; it was wide enough around that all three couldn¡¯t reach around it hand-to-hand. Riben and Gyre talked much of their lives in Madda during the walk. Riben grew up there and lived as a town guard. His tale was filled with women he fancied and his attempts to acquire them. Gyre¡¯s life was more exciting. He grew up in Lazann and 10 years ago he left his home for Madda, hearing about the increased monster activity and seeing an opportunity to make his name as an adventurer. In the ten years since he¡¯s reached ¡®B¡¯ rank, and was considered formidable on the South End of Braxia. Sam didn¡¯t share much. He didn¡¯t really know how to explain The Tutorial, so he described his time there as ¡®Adventures in foreign lands¡¯. At the end of the first day, the trio had covered nearly 100 miles. Their pace was beyond human, each one being well trained. Along the way they passed many carts, but they didn¡¯t encounter any large groups. The three pitched tents and decided on the night watch shifts by drawing stalks of hay. Sam had first shift, Riben the second, and Gyre the third. The night passed in peace. - The second day of travel started much like the first. The three men woke before the dawn and set off North along the road. The woodlands around them began to change. The trees became more gnarled and the earth grew soft. ¡°We¡¯re entering the Kreato Marshlands,¡± said Riben as he took the lead. ¡°I¡¯ll use my spear to feel out the ground. Have to make sure it¡¯s safe to walk.¡± ¡°The Kreato Marshlands are on the edge of the Kriegan Empire, right?¡± Asked Sam, recalling the maps he had seen in his big book of common sense. ¡°Yes, but we¡¯re still four days of travel from the Capital. After the Marshlands we¡¯ll come to the city of Sauver-Hill,¡± replied Riben as he prodded ahead, using his spear. Bugs began to swarm the trio as they moved, and the smell of the rotting spring mud burned Sam¡¯s nose. Sam mumbled to himself as the flies buzzed around his head. He knew of a good spell to ward off the insects, but it had been many years since he needed it. ¡°How did it go again?¡± Sam whispered to himself. ¡°Aha!¡± Sam cried out, making Riben and Gyre jump. ¡°What? Is it a beast?¡± Asked Gyre as he gripped the handle to his sword. ¡°No no,¡± Sam replied. ¡°I¡¯m going to cast a spell. You two stand still for a moment.¡± Sam moved his hands in circles and then into symbols and shapes. The runes of Illusion magic were formed and then, with a surge, a blue bolt of what seemed to be electricity jumped between the three men. ¡°What was that?¡± Asked Riben as he tried and failed to analyze the extremely complex spell. Sam smiled. ¡°Nothing. Let¡¯s keep moving.¡± ¡°What? Come on, you can¡¯t do that? What did you do?¡± Riben asked, pleading. ¡°You¡¯ll see. Figure it out on your own,¡± Sam replied with a smile before he started to walk away. ¡°Gah! Gyre, do you know what kind of spell that was?¡± Riben asked. ¡°It was an Illusion Spell, but what it did I have no idea,¡± Gyre replied. Unable to determine the spell¡¯s purpose, the two jogged to catch up to Sam. - It took nearly an hour for Riben and Gyre to realize that the flies were no longer bothering them. ¡°A spell to repulse flies and gnats?¡± Riben asked. ¡°But it was an Illusion Spell,¡± said Gyre. Sam smiled a wicked grin and walked on, holding his silence. - Around midday the trio reached the centermost of the bog. Here the road had been paved with cobbles and stone. Dirt would simply turn to mud, even with magic used in the construction. Gnarled trees reached out with their branches like decrepit fingers, and still water echoed the splashes of frogs and beast alike. The croaks, chirps, and occasional roars were unsettling. Sam enjoyed the bog. He felt amused by all the life in a place so often associated with death. The world around him was alive, and he enjoyed every minute of it. The trio found a raised piece of road to stop on for their midday meal. Sam cast another spell and the smell of rot vanished like a voice in a crowd. His two companions once again looked on in wonder at such intricate spellwork. They confirmed that they had made the right choice to accompany this man. Near the end of the meal a glowing blue orb appeared over a nearby watershed. It appeared in an instant and emitted enough mana to make Gyre and Riben go pale. ¡°A Will-O-The-Wisp,¡± said Riben in a hushed voice. ¡°Everybody stay back,¡± commented Gyre, experience showing in his fearless tone. Sam, on the other hand stood up with a grin. From his Bestiary he knew Will-O-Wisps only appeared in swamplands where men had died over greed. They often stood guard over hidden treasures, only to be released into the cycle of reincarnation when the greed of the past was revealed. Just as quick as it appeared, the Will-O-Wisp floated off into the swamp, abandoning the main road down an old animal trail. ¡°Don¡¯t follow it,¡± said Gyre. ¡°They are known to lead men to both great fortune, but also great peril.¡± ¡°I think we should follow it,¡± said Sam as he stepped forward. Gyre and Riben looked up at Sam with pensive eyes. They knew Sam could probably handle whatever danger lay ahead, they weren¡¯t so certain of their own ability to do so. ¡°Hmm,¡± Sam hummed, ¡°You two stay on the road here. I¡¯m going to get this Wisp¡¯s treasure.¡± In a flash Sam vanished, only a few footprints in the bog remained. Riben and Gyre didn¡¯t even have time to call out to him. He moved far faster than the Wisp had. Riben sat down on the cobble and wrapped his spear over his knees. Gyre moved towards the bog but hesitated. After a moment of weighing the options, he stepped back and sat down next to his companion. - Sam chased after the Wisp, keeping pace with the creature. Numerous plants and beasts laid on his path, each powerful in their own rights, but as Sam approached they parted like the Red Sea. The mire recognized the one before it, and so the swamp opened a path fit for a king. Over fallen logs, past thick thorn bushes, and across stillwater ponds Sam followed. He cycled his mana as he moved, enhancing his senses while casting spells to protect himself in the case of an ambush. While most of the creatures here bowed to him, a few of the more territorial monsters probably wouldn¡¯t. Almost as soon as Sam had the thought, a large Crocodile-shaped monster leapt from thick mud and launched itself at Sam¡¯s head. Prepared for the ambush, Sam put his hand forward and grabbed the snout of the beast. The two locked eyes and, in that moment, the crocodile-monster felt the weight of the entire world. It watched in horror as its swamp was burned to ash and its blood was scattered to the four corners of the world. Having cast a simple Illusion spell, Sam dropped the disoriented beast and continued to follow the Wisp. Finally, the swamp opened up into a wide stream. There, among the reed and mud, was the remains to a rowboat. A skeletal hand was stretched up from the mud as if grasping for air. The rowboat had an empty treasure chest on board and had three arrows sticking from its hull. It looked to be the sight of an old robbery. Sam walked forward, stepping on the surface of the water, and pulled the skeleton from the muck. Holding the bones in one hand, Sam used his free hand to cast a Ruin spell, blasting open a six-foot hole in the dirt by the bankside. ¡°I know you not, traveler, but let your soul rest in peace,¡± said Sam as he buried the bones and refilled the hole. Sam ripped a chunk of the sunken rowboat free and cut it into the shape of a gravestone. On it he etched, ¡®Here lies a lost traveler. His boat sank but not his soul.¡¯ The Will-O-Wisp shook and then faded into light. Softly, the words ¡°Thank you¡± echoed over the glade. Under the boat, at the bottom of the stream, was a silver locket. Sam could feel the pulse of magic from it, but he couldn¡¯t identify the spell. Sam opened the locket. Inside was a picture of a woman and a little girl, both smiling. Under the cover was an inscription: ¡®For the best husband and father in the world.¡¯ Sam hesitated. He wanted to study the locket and figure out the enchantments on it¡­ But after a moment of thought, he hung the thing on the freshly constructed gravesite. ¡°Who said an adventure needs to end in treasure,¡± said Sam with a grin as he turned and made his way back toward his friends. 14. Calm Gyre stood and walked to the edge of the cobbled path, a smile on his face. He waved to Sam. ¡°Did you find the treasure?¡± Said Riben as he jumped to his feet. ¡°Sort of,¡± Sam replied with a shrug. ¡°The afternoon¡¯s still young. Let¡¯s keep moving. I¡¯ll explain as we go.¡± Gyre and Riben nodded in affirmation and the three men continued their journey through the mire. As they walked, Sam explained in detail the sunken boat and the locket. Riben seemed pleased by Sam¡¯s ultimate choice, but Gyre looked ruffled. To Gyre, a magic artifact was worth a year¡¯s salary. It wasn¡¯t something to be tossed out on a sentimental whim. The ¡®B¡¯ ranker decided then he needed to teach his friend Sam the value of gold. The remainder of the swampland passed by in a flash. The trees began to grow thicker, more robust, and color returned to the landscape. The gray of death and decay bloomed into the greens of life, and birdsong echoed in the evening air, calling to the end of the day. The sun grew long on the horizon. Dusk approached. - ¡°It¡¯s a shame, since we¡¯re only a few hours away from an inn,¡± said Gyre as he set up his tenting. ¡°It can¡¯t be helped,¡± said Riben. ¡°If we hadn¡¯t stopped for the Will-O-Wisp, we¡¯d have made it to the inn before sundown,¡± Gyre snarked. Sam stumbled at the piercing words, tripping over his fur bedding. Riben cracked a smile and, soon enough, all three men started to laugh and make merry. What did it matter if they slept outdoors one extra day? They were in no hurry. What was the point of an adventure if one didn¡¯t take pleasure in the journey? With a campfire rolling, Gyre shared stories of his past adventures. It was only during these times of storytelling that he truly seemed to come alive. He told the tale of his ¡®B¡¯ rank advancement, earned through a battle with a Rock Troll. Sam listened with attentive ears. He loved stories, they often caused forgotten memories to resurface. It was therapeutic, in a sense. He pondered on it. For thousands of years humans shared stories by word of mouth. It was the first method of recording history, even. For a very long time in the Tutorial, Sam had gone without such mental stimulation. To him, listening to stories made him feel human. It pumped life into his veins. After Gyre¡¯s stories, Riben started to sing. He sang a ballad¡ªthe story of Rictor the Righteous¡ªa pious man who lived long, long ago. Sam clapped to keep beat. Gyre poked the fire, keeping it going, and the sparks danced in tune with Riben¡¯s voice. In the story, Rictor the Righteous had been brought to the edge of a volcano to confront his foe and rescue his wife and daughter. The villain appeared, holding two ropes. Rictor¡¯s wife was held over the volcano¡¯s entrance by one, and his daughter was held by the other rope over a pit of spears. Faced with the ultimate choice, Rictor only had time to save one. But Rictor wasn¡¯t alone. He made friends along his journey. An old man appeared and saved Rictor¡¯s wife while a young dragon swooped down and rescued Rictor¡¯s daughter. The villain was distraught. He had assumed no one would help Rictor. He assumed the old man and the dragon would rather reap profits back in the city. He underestimated the love in the hearts of other living beings, for he had never known such a thing. The story ended with Rictor trying to save the villain from his own blackened heart. And so the Ballad of Rictor the Righteous ended. ¡°Wait,¡± said Sam. ¡°It can¡¯t end like that! What happened? Did Rictor reform the villain? Did the villain change his ways, or did he fight to the end?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not sure,¡± said Riben. ¡°The song of Rictor is ancient, but the ending always changes. In some of them he kills the villain, in others he saves the villain¡­ But those are newer endings. The true ending passed down through the years is the incomplete one.¡± ¡°That¡¯s dumb!¡± Said Sam. ¡°It¡¯s art,¡± replied Riben with a grin. ¡°We know Rictor¡¯s family members were saved, but we don¡¯t know if the villain was saved. I like to think he was.¡± Gyre raised his own voice, ¡°I don¡¯t think the villain was saved. His heart was too black. He needed to be killed.¡± ¡°His backstory was so tragic, though. I really feel bad for him. I like to think his heart grew three sizes and he changed that day, and became friends with Rictor,¡± said Riben. The three continued their discussion of Rictor the Righteous well into the evening. Sam took the first watch, grumbling all the while over the story. He felt hollow, as if something important was missing from his heart. Sam vowed, in the silence of the night, that if he ever made a story he¡¯d give it a proper ending and not leave his audience hanging.Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. The night passed and the three travelers set out at the break of dawn. Slivers of golden sunlight danced on the dew-covered leaves, and all the world seemed to come alive. As they walked, Sam noted that some of the violet flowers on the side of the path opened their petals; Sam thought that they looked like stretching cats, as if they were greeting the morning with a yawn. A craving stirred from the depths of Sam¡¯s soul, a memory fragmented by time: a dream of coffee stirred in his soul. - The last vestiges of the Kreato Marsh vanished like the tips of sailboats crossing the horizon. The cobbled road turned to hard-packed dirt once again, and the familiar currents of magic vanished from the road. The trio passed a small village on the edge of the marsh, a place designed to let travelers rest before the harsh trek into dead-er waters. A small river ran through it to the north, gathering tributaries and width as it went. The fresh waters were clear; they danced with the morning sunlight. The path stretched onwards North, but the river turned East. Sam filled his waterskins at the bend, and he let the water run over his hands. In those waters he looked at his reflection grin. After thousands of years, he no longer remembered his features before the ¡®Tutorial¡¯. To him, this was his true face. A splash of water hit Sam in the face, and he slipped on the mud of the bank, nearly falling into the water. Off to the side Riben laughed, his voice cracking with each breath. Sam regained his footing and his eyes glowed with an evil light. Magic fluttered on the wind and a tremendous power surged to the sky. Riben¡¯s eyes went wide as a 5 meter tall wave surged forth from the river and smashed down on him, knocking him to the ground and rolling him into a field of waist-high wheat. Riben¡¯s head popped up, his hair sopping wet, and he yelled, ¡°No fair!¡± Gyre roared with laughter at the scene, for he had the foresight not to compete in stupid pranks with the strongest magician he¡¯d ever met. Riben and Sam¡¯s small water-fight soon escalated into a two hour swim. Several fish were caught and fried. Morning turned to afternoon, and soon the three decided to wrap up their fun times and continue on their journey. More stories were told, more songs were sung. Legends seemed to come to life with every one of Riben¡¯s words. He spun long tales of heroes, tragedies of star-crossed lovers, and terror-filled battles for survival. Sam was certain that Riben missed his true calling as a Bard. His talents -far- eclipsed a mere town guardsman. Along the long road, a few small towns down the way, the three came to an inn called ¡°The Goblin¡¯s Demise.¡± It stood two stories tall and on the corner of a larger, unnamed town. Riben took the lead and pushed open the doors with a wide smile. ¡°Batta! I need a room for three!¡± Yelled Riben as he walked in the door. He clearly knew this inn. ¡°Riben?¡± A woman¡¯s voice replied. Sam stepped into the glowing doorway. The first floor of the inn stretched out into a massive tavern. A stone hearth roared with kindling, and the smell of food, drink, and smoke held the room hostage. A raucous series of laughter and mirth echoed off the walls, and the decorations were rustic and local; swords and farm tools lined the walls, each given their own plaque and introductions. ¡°Batta!¡± Riben called out to the stout woman carrying an empty drinking glass in one hand and a cleaning rag in the other. The woman didn¡¯t look pleased to see Riben. Her brow furrowed and a red color took her face. ¡°You bastard, you dare show your face around here!¡± Batta yelled. A cheer erupted throughout the room, along with echoes of ¡®Batta¡¯s going off again¡¯ and ¡®Batta¡¯s about to beat down another.¡¯ ¡°Batta, liste¡ª-¡± Riben¡¯s words were interrupted by a hard smack. Another cheer exploded throughout the room. ¡°I have a room for those two behind you, but you, Riben, you¡¯re sleeping in the stables if you want to stay here!¡± Riben rubbed his red-marked cheek and looked hurt, his jaw slacked. He looked confused. ¡°What did I do?¡± He asked under his breath. Gyre, being the most sensible of the trio, stepped forward with money in his hand. ¡°Thank you, Ma¡¯am. I¡¯m certain this will cover the room expense.¡± The woman Batta¡¯s face transformed in an instant. All anger vanished from her visage and a smiling kind look overtook her. ¡°Yes, yes of course sweety. Why don¡¯t you and your friends take a seat at a free table. This much will get you a good meal too. Drinks will cost extra, though.¡± Sam couldn¡¯t hold back his laughter any longer. He picked a small table on the side of the room, near the back corner and took his seat. Riben and Gyre soon sat down with him. Gyre held back his laughter, but he wore his smile openly. Riben, on the other hand, seemed to be in serious contemplation. He was so distracted he never noticed the mug of ale placed in front of him from a much kinder-looking Batta. Plates of food soon arrived after. ¡°Riben, when did you last come to this inn?¡± Sam asked, hoping to break his friend¡¯s silence. ¡°About four years ago,¡± said Riben. ¡°Did you do anything bad?¡± Quipped Gyre. ¡°I mean¡­ I don¡¯t really remember. I got really drunk and can¡¯t remember anything other than having a great time. Batta and I were so close back then...¡± ¡°...¡± ¡°...¡± Sam and Gyre exchanged a knowing glance. Some things didn¡¯t need to be said aloud. ¡°Don¡¯t let it get to you, Riben. We¡¯re only here for a night, anyways. The city of Sauver-Hill is only a small trek from here. There we can probably hitch a ride on some merchant fleets to save us from walking more,¡± said Gyre. ¡°I don¡¯t know about you two, but my feet are starting to kill me.¡± Riben seemed to snap out of his funk and grinned, ¡°Yeah. It¡¯ll take a bit longer than by foot, but I¡¯m getting sick of walking.¡± Sam¡ª-having walked just about endlessly for nearly three millenium¡ª-didn¡¯t voice his opinion. He rather enjoyed the journey so far¡­ And he didn¡¯t honestly feel any fatigue, or foot aches in the slightest. Such was normal for him. But he kept silent and nodded along. He wasn¡¯t in a rush, anyhow. Every day had been rather enjoyable. He would never go back to traveling alone, if he could help it. While they started this journey as close acquaintances, Sam already considered Riben and Gyre to be his friends. Raising his mug high for a toast, Sam laughed, ¡°To a journey with friends.¡± ¡°Here here,¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Riben and Gyre both toasted back. The clink of the mugs sounded like the chirp of a small bell. Three friends drank away their savings. The night faded with the glow of the hearth. 15. The Dragon City The moon waned and a calm gray color filled the sky. Dawn approached. Sam laid on the roof of the inn, marveling at the glittering fog which came from a nearby river valley. The township was built on a hill to prevent floods, but the mists climbed like rodents, streaming over the entire dale in a damp stampede, hills, cliffs, and all. Sam jumped down and walked the streets like a shadow. Waterfetchers set off with their buckets as part of their morning chore, and smoke puffed from the chimneys of the bakers. The day started like any other, in quiet peace. Sam turned down a more prominent street near the center of the town, where fences seemed to grow like trees, reaching heights hard for a padfoot to climb. Peering down it, he could see a large mansion-style home at the far end, with the basic workings of a magic defense system around it. The magics glittered in the dark, and the spells hummed like a beehive behind a thin wall. From the mansion a familiar pulse of magic echoed, building up and then breaking repeatedly, like a toddler trying to run before learning to walk. Sam smiled. He could feel the threads of destiny tying him to this place, calling to him like a siren¡¯s song. Intrigued, Sam made his way to the building. He slipped past the magic defenses and alarms with ease, but still felt content with them. Not many would be capable of doing what he could. The alarms were well designed, but their scope simply couldn¡¯t include something of Sam¡¯s caliber¡­ But then again, not many things could. Behind the building was a wide courtyard, brick paved around a grass yard. Two maple trees grew on opposite sides, like the eyes of yin and yang, the green of their leaves dulled by the morning dark. On the grass stood a young girl, on the eve of her teenage years. Magic roiled within her body and she took up a wide stance. She put one leg forward and bent it, her arms turned like snakes shifting to a charmer¡¯s pungi, and a magic circuit formed from the conjunction between her movements and chants. A Ruin magic took shape, but the edges were rough. The mana bubbled like a blister, and a foul air of dark magic seeped into the surroundings. The crude spell couldn¡¯t be held with low mana levels, and despite the child¡¯s excessive attempts at controlling it, the fireball exploded in front of her and knocked her back, burning her arms. ¡°Why, why why why!¡± The girl cried out, tears in her eyes. Sam moved on instinct, not even considering the consequences of his actions. He had never been one to think of subtlety. He appeared next to the child and placed his hand on her arms. The girl winced and almost screamed when a sudden feeling of relief surged through her. She looked down to see her burns and other scars vanish. Her cry caught itself in her throat. ¡°Watch,¡± said Sam as he held up his free hand and constructed an exact replica of the spell the girl was just trying to perform. ¡°This spell¡¯s construction is sloppy. Even with excessive control it¡¯s base is built improperly.¡± Sam pointed to several parts of the magic constructs, using illusion magic to make them visible to the child. He emphasized each point carefully with a slow but gentle hand. His words flowed like a river, no matter where the flow went, it always reached the sea in the end. ¡°Here, here, and here. These spots all carry redundant magic flows. Even a magician with twice your mana would struggle to cast it properly.¡± In an instant, Sam listed out over twenty problems with the spell, and then another twenty problems with the girl¡¯s execution. The child watched on with rapt attention, almost in a daze. She couldn¡¯t pry her eyes from the stranger¡¯s spellwork. ¡°Chloe!¡± An elderly man¡¯s voice yelled from the other side of the courtyard. A portly gentleman stepped out of the house and called out to his granddaughter. ¡°Grampa¡­¡± The girl didn¡¯t know how to respond. She turned to her elder and then back to the mysterious stranger only to find him vanished, as if he never existed. No trace remained. Even the ambience of cast magic had fled with him, like a dream. ¡°Where you out trying to practice magic again?¡± Her grandfather asked. ¡°I know you¡¯re struggling with reaching the 1st Circle, but don¡¯t let the upcoming Academy Rankings make you act recklessly. You could get hurt if you practice without supervision...¡± ¡°Grampa there was a man here¡­¡± Chloe tried to interject. The old man looked towards the courtyard and saw all of the defensive magics still in place, untouched, ¡°Oh no! You must have hit your head too!¡± While her grandfather franticly panicked about, worried over his favorite grandchild¡¯s mental health, Chloe tuned him out and thought back to the stranger¡¯s lecture. She turned her hand palm-up and a fireball roared to life, floating gently in front of her. Her grandfather¡¯s voice trailed off. Both of them stared at the fireball in awe, as if it were the only thing in all the world. - Sam walked down the street at a brisk pace, thankful that he sensed the old man before he was spotted. A child telling stories of a stranger was one thing, but if the older man saw him too¡­ Once a myth, twice a warning. The mist muddied the roads, but Sam paid it little mind. He never minded dirt, even if he could prevent it from sticking to him. In the loneliness of the Tutorial cleanliness had been something Sam only kept to prevent illness. Dirt on his clothes mattered so little to him it almost didn¡¯t even register in his thoughts. - Sam turned the corner and the inn came into sight. Standing outside the inn was the pair Riben and Gyre, both looking unsettled. When the duo met eyes with Sam, all the tension seemed to leave them. ¡°You bastard, were you thinking of leaving without us!¡± Riben called, his voice cracking. His eyebrows narrowed. Despite the delivery, it wasn¡¯t a joke. ¡°Calm down,¡± said Sam, ¡°I wouldn¡¯t dare leave without my friends. I just went to tour the town a bit in the morning. It¡¯d be a shame to just pass by such a lively place without truly seeing it all.¡± ¡°We could have toured the town together,¡± commented Gyre. Sam shook his head, ¡°I didn¡¯t want to delay our journey. Come, I¡¯ll teach you both a bit of spellwork over breakfast.¡± Riben and Gyre¡¯s expressions changed, and they were all smiles at the drop of a hat. The trio walked into the inn shoulder to shoulder, laughing once more as if the night never ended. - The trio continued their journey around mid-morning, with full bellies and mirthful thoughts. Riben and Gyre seemed distracted, though, and weren¡¯t singing or telling stories. Both of them moved their hands and chanted runes, as they focused on casting an Illusion spell. Sam nodded off to the side, choosing not to interject. Trial and error was an important aspect to magic. Sam knew that better than anyone. He already explained the spell, its proper uses, casting methods, and training techniques. Anything more would be over the top. Everyone had their own nuances to magic, and everyone needed to make their spells their own. Magic wasn¡¯t math, though one could take a systematic and mathematical approach to it if they wished. With the journey plagued by a strange silence, Sam¡¯s thoughts wandered to the child he met earlier in the morning. He didn¡¯t regret teaching her on a whim, but he did regret running away in a panic when her elder appeared. There was no reason to run, after all. Sure he was trespassing, but it wasn¡¯t like he had ill intentions. It would have been better to introduce himself properly. With such a large home, surely the family was well off and had connections within the Kriegan Empire. Not making any contact with them there was probably the wrong move. Sam shook his head and let the thought pass. Regret was a pointless thing. It wasn¡¯t like he could change the past. He could only learn from this and move forward. - The strange silence pervaded for another stretch of road before Riben formally announced his resignation. The spell was too complex for him. Gyre, on the other hand, seemed to be on the verge of a breakthrough. Riben started his bard-like singing again; his wealth of rhymes and songs felt bottomless. The dirt road changed to a wide cobbled path, and that path eventually fell away to a strange paved stone-way, something akin to asphalt that Sam had never seen before. Magic flowed from the smooth pathway like a mountain stream; it trickled along and carried a hint of each passerby¡¯s aura. Sam studied the road, and found applications of Cabalist runes and Manifestation magics in concert that he never considered before. While the rune-work could use improvement, the sheer innovation overwhelmed him. Once more he found himself humbled by the world since the Tutorial. Sam grinned, his hopes for this trip ignited further. Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! - A small glade transitioned into a hillside vale. The trees grew thin but strong. Their branches felt like wire, flexible and tough. The green growth looked young. The roar of a distant river cut the air. ¡°Do you hear that?¡± Asked Riben, a fun smile on his face. ¡°That¡¯s the river Vendyne, it means we¡¯re close to Sauver-Hill.¡± Gyre nodded, taking a break from analyzing his spellwork, ¡°Vendyne runs through the city, splitting it in twain. They say the river is named after one of the Wild Gods.¡± ¡°Is it named after Vendel?¡± Sam asked. Gyre smiled, ¡°I¡¯m surprised you know the name. Not many study the Wild Gods these days.¡± Sam caught his tongue. He thought over Gyre¡¯s words carefully. His big book of Common Sense never mentioned ¡®Wild Gods¡¯, but it did speak of people that worshipped the Demon Lords. Had the terminology changed? Sam wanted to comment on it, but he decided against it. The topic of religion didn¡¯t seem like something he should delve into among friends. This seemed a better line of questioning for a priest, or maybe a librarian. - The glade vanished and rows of fields appeared. Cutting through them roared a mighty river, too wide to wade, and the waters toiled and foamed like home-churned butter. On the river rows upon rows of boats floated, tall sails mixing with clouds on the horizon gave the illusion of a connection between Heaven and Earth. A fresh wind blew, carrying the scent of open waters. Furrows formed in the fields of grass with the shifting winds, their waves in concert with the distant river made the water turn green and stretch ashore; there was no divide between land and sea. Beyond the fields the river cut down into a valley. Over the bend the land transformed from a sea of green into white pointed towers. The skyline of the city stretched like fingers into the sky, bending at strange points. Torrents of mana flowed about, mixing into the air and water at random. The sound of horns bellowed on the winds, and the path grew more and more crowded. Sam watched in awe. Buried memories surfaced as he saw the crowds. He sensed, within the denseness of the population, a feeling of familiarity. The trio continued to walk, each step revealing new wonders. Soon the city opened itself in its entirety. Buildings sprawled and paths split like capillaries, the people walking the blood pumping through them. The city curled with the riverbend, and the fort stood at the very end, visible from all points, a massive head on the proverbial dragon. Spires and keeps dotted the land¡ª-the claws and wings¡ª-and a myriad of colors filled in the gaps. There was no great wall or divide. No gate or heralded entry held back the wave of people, wagons, and livestock. An inland city had no needs of such security, and¡ª-after he thought about it¡ª-Sam realized that such gatekeeping would only serve to slow down trade and business. The roads split and houses sprang up like weeds. Streets scattered in all directions and people moved in tides. Music, chatter, and other sounds flooded all the world, and Sam found himself turning in circles as he tried to take in all the sights. Criers stood in the plazas, bells in hand, and they cried out ¡®Hear Ye, Hear Ye¡¯. Wagons rolled with goods, their wheels grinding along the smooth stone with ease, and merchants offered their wares at each bend. Each view lead to new and vibrant scenes, and the roads grew wider and wider still. Colors flashed as banners and vibrant clothes ruffled about. Folks walked with purpose and few found themselves like Sam, wide-eyed in wonder. Riben and Gyre stood close by, keeping watch on their friend; both were clearly amused by his reactions. ¡°The Magistrate has raised the tax on sugar again!¡± Boomed a voice over the crowd. Magic surged, amplifying the cry. A small crowd gathered around a platform where a man in yellow-frilled clothes decried the crimes of the local government. ¡°Is¡­ Is that man going to get arrested?¡± Sam asked, his thoughts returning to normal, finally. ¡°No. Sauver-Hill is a weird city. All the officials live in the Dragonbone Fort on the North side, where all the wandering paths converge at the gate to the capital,¡± said Riben. ¡°Here on the South side of the city the law enforcement won''t step in unless people start fighting.¡± Riben pointed to the side of the street, where several men wearing what looked to be uniforms leaned against a brick building, each of them savoring the shade. The uniforms were anything but uniform, with each being an amalgamation of greens and reds,all with different patterns and shapes on the sleeve. Sam nodded. Riben took the lead here, and Gyre returned to his silent study. The trio walked one of the many paths, but Riben kept them to more popular and presentable roads. Sam noted this kindness. Any city would have its darker sides and slums. While Sam felt for those less fortunate, he wanted to see the bright side of Sauver-Hill today. The group passed theaters, restaurants, inns, shops, stalls, and markets. Along the way Sam collected more and more trinkets, finally finding a use for his needlessly large stash of gold. From carved figurines to ¡®ancient magic scrolls¡¯, Sam scurried from kiosk to kiosk, an easy mark for the myriad of shrewd peoples working in the city. Riben and Gyre didn¡¯t stop him. They couldn¡¯t stop him. Sam was caught up in the thrill of the city. Still, despite his glee, his eyes flashed with a grim light when he sensed several men following him and his friends. Those following couldn¡¯t hide the malice flowing around them, their magic auras were tinted with black smoke, residue from wrong-doings in the past. ¡°We¡¯re being followed,¡± said Gyre, surprising Sam with his vigilance. Sam remembered, then, that when he met Gyre the man sensed Sam¡¯s own unusual-ness. Riben, on the other hand, seemed oblivious to the whole thing. How he survived as a town guard was anyone¡¯s guess. - The trio ducked into the shadows of a tall building, finding a narrow stretch behind it into an alley on the side. All the colors of the city began to fade as they made their ways deeper, away from the main paths. Sam raised up his hand and magic poured free, lifting up a blue light. Crossbow bolts smashed into the shield, snapping with plinking sounds and falling to the ground. Riben cursed and ducked, reacting slow to the threat. Gyre held his sword up, in position to block any blows that Sam¡¯s magic missed. Then, the world went calm. No one moved. The sound of clapping hands broke the silence. ¡°You¡¯re skilled. It¡¯s a no wonder why you have so much gold on you,¡± said a man as he stepped out from the shadows. The man was dressed in white trousers and a white shirt, both clean and neat with buttons running up and down. He was thin with a narrow face, and his eyes were in a perpetual squint. ¡°Is this just a generic robbery?¡± Gyre asked, clearly recognizing the foe. The man in white smiled, ¡°B-Ranked Hunter Gyre, the pride of Madda. One of the 10 strongest of Southern Braxia... No. This isn¡¯t a normal hit and run...¡± ¡°Three men on the rooftop with crossbows, two behind the man in white, and another two flanking us,¡± said Sam, interrupting the villain¡¯s spiel. To be quite honest, Sam didn¡¯t really care much for exposition. He didn¡¯t really care why Gyre was being targeted, nor did he bother letting the ¡®villain¡¯ continue monologuing. In fact, in all of the stories Riben told along the way, all the villains made long speeches. Sam wondered why none of the heroes didn¡¯t end them in those moments of vulnerability? Why bother listening to them out? Especially in this case where, Sam quite firmly believed, that he had absolutely no reason to care. If anyone targeted his friends while he was around, they would not have a good future. A tremendous magic power surged through the alleyway, and all at once the seven ¡®criminals¡¯ found themselves on their knees standing in front of Sam. Their eyes went wide. They couldn¡¯t move their bodies. They couldn¡¯t make a sound. Panic set in and they tried to squirm, but found themselves unable to even sweat. ¡°Gyre, do you know them?¡± Sam asked, turning to his friend. Gyre sighed, ¡°Yes.¡± He didn¡¯t speak further, clearly unwilling to share. Sam rubbed his hair and tilted his head to the side. ¡°So, what do we do with them?¡± He asked. Riben hefted his spear and lowered the point to the leader¡¯s throat, ¡°Those crossbow shots would have killed me. That¡¯s attempted murder. Lets save the hangman some rope.¡± ¡°No,¡± said Gyre, putting a hand on Riben¡¯s spear. He turned to Sam, ¡°Sam, do you have a way to make them¡­ Incapacitated for a few days? Maybe make them sleep till we leave the city? Forget they ever saw us?¡± Sam nodded. ¡°Do you have a reason we shouldn¡¯t just¡­ Be done with them?¡± ¡°Efficiency,¡± said Gyre. ¡°We kill them then the Dragon¡¯s Throat will go on lockdown. We¡¯d become criminals pretty quick in the city. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve felt the magic in the roads. I don¡¯t know how the magic works, but they can recognize killings and other crimes. Without someone high up in the Hall of Records, we¡¯d never be able to walk in the Empire openly again¡­¡± ¡°Ah,¡± Sam smiled. ¡°But if they just disappear for 3 days, wouldn¡¯t that also cause a lockdown?¡± ¡°Not if we just put them to sleep and let them be found. I¡¯m assuming very few healers could undo one of your spells.¡± Sam¡¯s smile twisted a bit. He waved his hand and an illusion and cabalist magic overlapped, creating something with so much raw power it shook the very earth with its unreality. A glaze washed over the 7 assailant¡¯s eyes. One began to foam at the mouth and passed out directly. The other six seemed to stay conscious, but they were twitching and suffering. ¡°This spell will end after three days,¡± said Sam. ¡°Good. We should leave the city today, if possible,¡± said Gyre. ¡°No need to get caught up in anything. We¡¯ve killed no one and committed no crimes. They won''t be able to hold us at the gates, even if they find out we were involved in¡­ This.¡± He gestured towards the figures twitching on the ground. Gyre¡¯s shoulders stooped in relief, but Sam felt uncomfortable. He looked down at the road and started deciphering the magics. If he had taken some time when he first made note of the strange spells to study them, then he could have potentially hidden any wrongdoing entirely¡­ Though, it was a bit late for such regrets. It would take time to manipulate a magic he¡¯d never seen in such a subtle way. He could avoid it for himself easily, but to change it for Riben and Gyre would prove tricky. In his heart, Sam felt a terrible disquiet, and he could feel eyes watching him. He knew that things wouldn''t go as peacefully as Gyre thought. A dark light flashed in Sam¡¯s eyes. His smile faded. Sam¡¯s actions since leaving the World¡¯s Crown had been rather tame. In this moment, he considered making his name a bit more widespread¡­ Make it something to fear. After all, as an immortal with very few ties in Braxia at all, not many things could make him stay his hand if he decided to reap. If anyone tried to harm his friends¡­ Well, it wasn¡¯t like he couldn¡¯t settle down in a different country. At that moment, several high-ranked officials in the city felt a cold shiver travel down their spines. Their mouths tasted of iron, and a shadow cast itself over their hearts; they could feel their own doom approaching like an executioner¡¯s axe, unavoidable and unstoppable like the cold march of time. Everything smelled of ash and decay. - ¡°Your assumption was wrong, by the way, Gyre,¡± said Sam as the trio walked back towards the main road, his voice jovial and upbeat. ¡°No healers could undo my spell.¡± 16. All Along ¡°The 3rd Age, the Era of March, witnessed the advent of the first human Archmage, Archmage Hongjun. Humanity stretched across all of Braxia under his lead, and man dominated all the world until the dawning of the 5th Age, the Era of the Omen.¡± -Tal-Gra The Mystic, 7th Deacon of the Zyphonic Order Sam closed the book, puzzled by the contents. Every historical narrative he could find mentioned the 5th Age as the major turning point in history. Everything before it seemed more myth than record, and all of the histories seemed to collide their narratives in strange ways, mostly differing along religious lines. Still, now he knew what the tagline ¡®a.o¡¯ meant in his magic book, the first one he received from the tutorial. ¡°After Omen¡­¡± Sam muttered. It meant that the calendar dates were split. B.O. Before Omen A.O. After Omen Sam pondered, wondering what happened to this world that caused such a divide in the ages. Memories sparked in the recesses of his mind; memories of a cross and the word sacrifice. Thoughts of the old world surged, and an understanding bloomed. The Religions of this world seemed connected to the ¡®Wild Gods¡¯, or the Demon Lords. Clearly one of the seven interfered with the human plane during this ¡®Era of Omen.¡¯ Sam sighed. He didn¡¯t need to get to the bottom of this mystery, per se, but he wanted to. Sam desperately wanted to understand his new home, this land of Braxia. - Riben sat near Sam, browsing several books as well. Occasionally Sam would ask him a question and he¡¯d offer a clarifying statement, thought it was clear Riben didn¡¯t know too much abouthistory. Gyre, on the other hand, stood at the end of the table and paced back and forth, sweat forming on his brow. His eyes were narrow and he clenched his sword till his knuckles turned white. ¡°We can¡¯t afford to stop here for long,¡± remarked Gyre, turning towards the table. His voice belied his panicked state, but it was clear he was afraid of something. ¡°Gyre, I don¡¯t know what enemies you have in this city, but you need to calm down,¡± said Sam as he stood from the table. ¡°There is no reason to panic.¡± Sam didn¡¯t mention it, but he already deciphered the magics under the roads of Sauver-Hill. The cabal runes within the stone were linked to a database of sorts in the fort at the throat of the city. Normally these runes would collect information about everyone on or around them, but Sam had already hacked the magic circuits in order to make his ¡®presence¡¯ vanish. It wasn¡¯t terribly difficult, taking him only a half hour of work, and in order to celebrate his victory over a new magic, Sam asked Riben to guide him to a place with books. Sam didn¡¯t expect the city to have an Academy open to the public, but he found the libraries filled with interesting texts and histories. - The three walked from the Academy without any issue and started making their way further north. Sam didn¡¯t want to stay in the city overnight. Despite his hacking of the magic surveillance systems, other¡ª-more old fashioned¡ª-methods of tracking could be used. While Sam could avoid any prying eyes if he decided to, it would be more difficult to bring Riben and Gyre along with him. Sam rather liked Riben and Gyre. He wasn¡¯t about to continue his journey without them. Gyre¡¯s nervousness grew as the trio approached the wider ¡®throat¡¯ of the city. The buildings became taller, more robust, and unapproachable. Armed guards stood before each entryway, giving passerby harsh stares. Trash and dirt vanished from the streets, hiding in the alleyways. Policemen actively patrolled, each walking with an authoritative swagger unique to Sauver-Hill. The human traffic increased as all the roads came together again; all thearteries of the dragon city flowed to the brain to keep it alive. Turning one final corner, the roads merged into one final lane, packed with carriage and footmen, all making their ways towards the towering walls of the fort and its massive metal gates hanging like the jowls of a beast. The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. - Gyrepulled his coat tight around his shoulders, making himself look smaller. Sam and Riben didn¡¯t bother. The crowds moved slow, but the trio inched their ways towards the gates moment by moment. Sam scouted ahead, extending his perceptive abilities, and watched the long human stream funnel into a single gateway, the gateway to the Kriegan Capital. ¡°If you want to go North of Sauver-Hill,¡± said Riben, ¡°You have two options. Trek the old paths and die in the wilds or go through the Dragon¡¯s Throat.¡± Sam nodded. Every road from Southern Braxia seemed to collect in the city of Sauver-Hill. Sam wondered if the design was intentional, in order to chamber off invasions. The local barriers, in the swamplands to the south and the massive riverbend coming from the east gave Sauver-Hill a unique strategic importance, serving as a narrow pass any invasion from the Southern End would need to pass through. - Along the high walls of the Sauver-Hill Fort, a large-statured man waited. His eagle eyes stared into the crowds below, picking through the people. One by one he compared them to the demand order sent down by Magistrate Shen Fayne. After hours of arduous watching, the man¡¯s patience was rewarded. Among the crowds three men stood. One hid himself well with his cloak, but his companions gave him away. The scoutjumped and swiped his hand along his sleeve, activatingunique magic circuits in his arm-guard. The scout grinned as he made his report, ¡°I¡¯ve spotted the Gyre Lazann. He¡¯s in the crowds queued at the Throat.¡± - Wagons and men passed through a brief inspection at the gates, a security measure Sam didn¡¯t understand well. The city had no guards or gates to enter, but only on the path north. Buoys and patrol boats stretched across the river too, preventing entry by land or sea. ¡°Why do they have such a guarded gate when they have a security magic system in the roads?¡± Sam asked under his breath. ¡°The roads record crimes, Sam, they don¡¯t catch the criminals,¡± Riben replied, in awe of Sam¡¯s lapse in logical thought. Sam¡¯s eyes went wide. He studied the magic below and, after a moment, realized why he had been confused. The Cabalist Runes in the roadways had the power to attack, but it seems they hadn¡¯t been used in years. Those magical paths were mana-starved and dry. The people running the city itself didn¡¯t seem to know of what power they truly held. Sam opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it without a word. He held his tongue. Some secrets were, probably, better left kept. - Sam¡¯s group made it to the front of the line and were stopped by the guards. Inside the gateway tunnel runes glowed blue, magic hummed along like neon. Sam felt the spells as he walked forward. The tunnel stretched for about the length of a rugby pitch, but was wide enough for several wagons to pass through at once. Guards lined both sides, all in tune with the magic. Sam followed the data flows with his mind, tracking it as it made its way to and from a database high up in the Dragonbone Fort. With a wave of his hand, three data points shifted. Sam, Riben, and Gyre vanished from the records like spectres. None of the soldiers stopped them. The three walked through the tunnels without harm. The end of the tunnel opened up into a massive area, with all manner of wagons and shops on the sides. Men peddled their wares, some recruited guards, and others looked for passengers on their merchant fleets for the journey north to the capital. ¡°We¡¯re out of the city, Gyre, you can calm down now,¡± said Sam. ¡°Don¡¯t play coy, Sam,¡± Gyre snapped back. ¡°You¡¯re far stronger than me. You can definitely feel the eyes on us.¡± ¡°Gyre¡­ Can you just tellus why you¡¯re being hunted? Why would you even agree to come with us on this journey if you knew this,¡± asked Riben. ¡°I didn¡¯t expect this,¡± Gyre interrupted. ¡°Listen, I told you both that I came to Madda about 10 years ago to seek adventure, but I also used Madda¡¯s status as a Hunter¡¯s Guild Frontier to protect myself, too. Some bad men from the country of Lazann want me dead. I never thought they¡¯d get some authority in the Dragon City, though. Why else would we be confronted in the open? Why else would we be tracked from the Fort? My enemies influence has grown in the last 10 years...¡± Sam sighed, ¡°Do you think their influence stretches to the capital?¡± ¡°No,¡± said Gyre. ¡°I doubt it,¡± quipped Riben. "Sam, you hold an S-rank guild card from the Hunter''s Guild. If we get to the Capital, you''ll have a higher status than even lower ranked nobles." ¡°The Kriegan Capital has some serious security. No foreign agents could give us real trouble there¡­¡± said Gyre, ¡°But I fear we¡¯ll be ambushed along the way. I don¡¯t know how you evaded the sensory magic in the tunnel, Sam¡­¡± ¡°I hacked their magic database,¡± said Sam with a grin. ¡°It¡¯ll take me about a day to get through all the raw information, but I should be able to find out who is hunting for you among the upper class of Sauver-Hill.¡± The three grew quiet for a moment as they all processed the information at hand. ¡­ ¡°So,¡± said Sam as he clapped his hands together, ¡°We need to make a decision. Do we make a break for the city and avoid the ambush¡­¡± Sam¡¯s eyes narrowed and his voice carried a horrifying magical energy that stilled the air around the entire lot, ¡°Or do we smash them from the front and let them know not to try us again?¡± 17. No Quarter Dusk approached. A south wind chilled the air, and clouds cast thousand-yard shadows across a red sky. The briny smell of Sauver-Hill followed behind a seven-wagon caravan. Horse hooves and metal-rimmed wheels hummed a drummer¡¯s tune. A family of merchants kept time, watching for the long day¡¯s end. Their map keeper spoke of a clearing ahead, just beyond the narrows of a shallow-water bridge, the perfect spot to make camp. Sam sat on a wooden wagon floor with his legs crossed. The carriage shook around him, but he moved with it like a reed in storm¡ª-never rigid, always flowing. A dark magic raged beneath his skin, a storm of fire and ash circled like carrion overhead, and his aura rose higher each second until it touched the clouds above, shattering the sky like glass. Across the world men in towers and women in gilded rooms stared out towards the Kreigan sky, as the aura of a Wild God descended upon the world. - Those in the caravan were unaware, unable to even sense the scope of magic in their midst; their eyes unable to see the arid desert as a true ocean, each individual drop a spell strong enough to level buildings and scorch dirt¡ª-To an ant what difference was there between a puddle and a lake? Riben, sitting across from Sam, wasn¡¯t holding up well. Every bump in the road took its toll on him, and even a thick matting of furs couldn¡¯t keep his bruised tailbone safe. His hands clenched hard around the haft of his spear, his knuckles white from pressure. He stared at Sam, waiting for any command to come. Gyre leaned off to the side, his heart in his throat; each beat hammered the wagon''s walls and a small cyclone of magic formed in his center, a sandcastle of power most would have considered impressive if it weren¡¯t standing in the shadow of a mountain. This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. - Sam¡¯s hackles raised. His eyes flashed with magic¡ª-a wicked evil glowed in the dim world. A tree laid across the road ahead. An ambush waited there; men in dark steel lined the path, hidden in the trees and brush¡ª-haunting the way forward like spectres, the wraiths of Lazann armed with crossbow and salt. They had no eyes, for they saw not the storm even as it descended upon them; calm winds at the center belied the true mounting dread. Magic thrummed, shaking the world. Huuuuuuuuuuuuuuum! Huuuuuuuuuuuuuuum! Wizened mages hidden from the world awoke from their slumber and looked out, some for the first time in centuries. Wide eyes met a fractured sky. A terrible and tremendous magic lit up the world, screaming for all to hear, ¡°I HAVE COME. CROSS ME IF YOU DARE.¡± - An old man in the Kingdom of Lazann trembled, and his staff fell from his hands. His eyes peeled themselves back, stripping open in a spray of blood. He screamed and fell to his knees. Smoke and ash circled empty sockets, and the smell of singed blood filled the Imperial Courts. The Archmage Lyon Lazann would never see the light of day again. A small punishment for his crimes in Sam''s eyes, but the sword of Damocles was hung. - The caravan stopped, the de-facto leader near the front holding up a high hand. His experience showed as he picked out the dark figures on the sides of the road. Hardened from the years, his first thoughts were of banditry, but those thoughts soon changed. Caution turned to fear as, one by one, the shadows on the roadside burst into arcane flame, blue lights popping up in the shade for nearly a mile ahead. A cold wind howled, carrying both hints of a storm and a mass of dust north. A final flame billowed, smiting the fallen tree from the path. The caravan rolled ahead unhindered.