《The Last Heir [A LITRPG, PROGRESSION-FANTASY NOVEL]》 1 - The First Step Rowan ran for his life, dust kicking up behind his boots as he sprinted across the barren landscape of the Scorched Plateau. His lungs burned with every breath, the ash in the air stinging his eyes and clinging to him like a second skin. Columns of steam erupted from the fissures below, molten rock simmering just beneath the surface. Why do I keep doing this to myself? He cursed, leaping over a chasm just as fire roared beneath him. He hit the brittle ground hard, with cracks spider-webbing beneath his weight. All he¡¯d wanted was to practice his magic in peace, but his teleportation token just had to get creative with it. Rowan glanced back, his heart pounding rapidly in his chest. The Ember Crawler whose lair he¡¯d invaded was closing in, fury glowing in its beady, reptilian eyes. Its clawed limbs tore at the ground as it barreled toward him, spit flying from its snarling maw. He quickly scanned it.
Level: 11
Body: Iron III [11 Levels]
Core: N/A
It has five levels on me, he winced. That¡¯s¡­ not great. Rowan could feel his mana reserves running low. He¡¯d spent most of them trying to reach a flame vent, and failing to accomplish that goal had left him almost utterly spent. His legs ached with exhaustion, but he wasn¡¯t worried yet. His stats were more than enough to carry him through this mess. I just need to outpace it long enough for the token to finish charging.
Name: Rowan Undomniel-Athlain
Title: [Duke of Eiseylth]
Trait: [Immortal Soul]
Core: Red [74%] [5 Levels]
Body: Bronze I [1 Level]
Level: 6
Strength: 14
Dexterity: 25
Vitality: 20
Intelligence: 30
Willpower: 22
Focus: 17
Thank the Gods for good genetics. Rowan gathered his dwindling mana, throwing his hand back and casting a [Firebolt]. He completed the magic circuit instinctively, weaving the pattern through his body just as he¡¯d done a thousand times before. His Intent came next, giving the spell the power it needed to manifest fully. Piercing Flame. A radiant red orb appeared in his palm, its heat licking at his skin. Despite the danger, he couldn¡¯t help but smile. Even now, months after his Awakening, the thrill of magic never ceased to amaze him. This is never going to get old, he thought, a grin tugging at his lips. The [Firebolt] shot through the air, but the Ember Crawler moved away with alarming speed. It exploded against the ground, showering the monster in a rain of dust and rock. The impact didn¡¯t harm the creature¡ªits hard carapace easily dealing with the lackluster attack¡ª but it sure did piss it off. The Crawler bellowed, its muscled neck contracting as it spit out an oily glob from its gullet. The projectile hurtled towards Rowan, igniting mid-air. It might not have had a Core, but that didn¡¯t mean it couldn¡¯t fight from range. He threw himself out of the way, barely managing to dodge in time. Rowan could feel the heat of the Crawler¡¯s spit as it splattered near him. Small droplets sizzled against his enchanted coat, failing to find purchase. His legs shook beneath him as he forced himself to stand up, every breath labored, the weight of exhaustion creeping into his limbs. His teleportation token glowed faintly, far from fully charged. He glared at the folded piece of parchment stuck into his belt, willing it to go faster. Another glob sailed over his shoulder, and Rowan felt his frustration rising. At the monster chasing him, at being chased, and most of all, at himself for running. That frustration quickly turned to anger. He slid to a stop, feet digging into the ground as he turned to face the creature. The Crawler howled, barreling towards him, its enormous weight tearing up at the earth. Enough running, he decided. His title might not have been earned, but it was still his. By blood and duty, it was his. What kind of Duke runs from an overgrown lizard? He took a deep breath, his mana already moving. Serpent of Fire, Rowan intoned, casting [Burning Whip]. A tendril of flame erupted from his back, curling around his arm. Despite the exhaustion, Rowan found himself grinning, the familiar thrill of magic surging through him, urging him on. The whip hissed as it slashed through the air, snaking around the beast''s front leg. Rowan kept moving, dodging the Crawler¡¯s wild swings as it thrashed about, trying to dislodge the fiery appendage. Its massive frame stumbled as the whip seared through its thick carapace, hissing in pain. Almost there, he gritted his teeth, forcing his mana to keep flowing. Suddenly, the monster''s leg gave out beneath it, and it collapsed with a pained roar. Rowan released his spell. The [Burning Whip] dissipated as he let go of his Intent. But he wasn¡¯t done yet. The Crawler reared back, a frantic look in its eyes. It was easy to forget that these monsters weren¡¯t mindless beasts, but creatures who had access to the System, same as him. Yet Rowan didn¡¯t feel remorse. If it could, this beast would have killed him. The least he could do was return the sentiment. The ground trembled as it tried to limp away, its heavy limbs pounding the earth, each blow sending a tremor through his feet. Even on three legs, the Crawler lived up to its name. Moving away from him in a desperate bid for survival. Blood dripped down from its mangled limb into the dry earth, feeding it.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. Rowan¡¯s gaze sharpened, his thoughts going cloudy. The thrill was coursing through his veins, and he made no effort in suppressing it. He pulled at the last vestiges of his mana. The orb of flame appearing in his hand flickered precariously, trying to draw on energy that wasn¡¯t there, threatening to dissipate. Rowan clamped down on it with his will, barely managing to hold it together. It wasn¡¯t the best spell he¡¯d ever cast, but it would do. With a flick of his wrist, he sent the spell flying¡ªand this time, the Crawler was too slow to dodge. It whistled as it flew through the air. His bolt striking true and piercing through the monster''s carapace with an explosion of blood and shattered bone. An agonized shriek echoed across the barren plateau, the Crawler''s leg now barely connected to the rest of its body by a thin strand of muscle and sinew. It was on death''s door, yet it didn¡¯t stop moving. Growling in frustration, Rowan didn¡¯t think as he reached into the ring on his right hand. His family may have been dead, his home lost, but the wealth of a Great House ran deep.
Name: Ironwood Spear
Grade: Uncommon
There were thousands just like it in the Vault. Losing a few wouldn¡¯t hurt him. He gripped the plain, unadorned spear firmly in his hand. It wasn¡¯t anything special. A spearhead made of finely worked steel and a shaft of quality wood. It was a weapon a novice adventurer would wield. But just because it wasn¡¯t enchanted didn¡¯t make it any less deadly. Rowan planted his feet, twisting his torso as he drew the spear back, the muscles in his back coiling in anticipation. His arm snapped forward, releasing the spear in one, fluid motion. It cut through the air, its polished tip glinting in the fading light. Before it even reached its target, Rowan was already gripping an identical spear, setting up another throw. The beast barely had time to react before it pierced its side with a wet crunch, embedding itself deep into its already wounded flesh. Rowan didn¡¯t hear its pained howl over the pounding in his ears. Just end it, he told himself, his hands shaking. But as he raised his spear, he felt the thrill withdrawing, leaving behind a strange emptiness. The anger that had fueled him moments ago began to fade, his grip around the spear slackened as his body sagged with fatigue. Rowan watched the wounded creature limp away, shaking his head, trying to clear the fog from his thoughts. With the wounds he¡¯d inflicted the Crawler was as good as dead. The Scorched Plateau was a lot of things, but forgiving, it was not. If it wanted to have any hope of surviving it would need to find a vent. And with the state it was in, that didn¡¯t seem likely. The teleportation token at his belt finally activated, a faint purple light surrounding him. Rowan collapsed onto the ground, feeling his muscles start to relax as the tension of the battle faded. ¡°At least I won,¡± he muttered, but even to himself, the words felt hollow. That had been happening more often as of late. His emotions running away from him and overwhelming his common sense. Rowan knew he needed to work on it, but that was a dragon he¡¯d need to slay some other time. The air around him shimmered as the token completed its work, whisking him away from the Plateau with a soft pop, leaving behind nothing but a faint purple mist. The world blurred, and Rowan reappeared in his study, collapsing onto the hard stone floor. Groaning, he blinked away the stars dancing across his vision. He¡¯d gotten better at enduring it over the last few months, but the sudden shift in space always made him nauseous. Teleportation was the domain of mages much stronger than him, so he wasn¡¯t going to complain. The tokens might not have been comfortable to use, but they worked, and that was all that mattered. Wincing, Rowan staggered to his feet. As he ran a hand through his onyx-black hair, it came away covered in soot and dust. He sighed, rolling his shoulders. ¡°I need a bath.¡± Rowan unbuckled his trusty coat and set it aside, followed by his torn shirt and shredded pants. ¡°At the rate I¡¯m going through clothes, I¡¯ll empty the Vault by the end of the year.¡± That wasn¡¯t true, of course. His family¡¯s Vault had enough gear to outfit an imperial legion ten times over, but he was making a real effort out of it. Rowan made his way to the bathroom, summoning a low-grade water crystal from his ring and slotting it into the wall. Warm water cascaded over him as the enchantments activated, soothing his aching muscles. He closed his eyes, letting the heat soak into him. Today¡¯s training had drained him¡ªmentally and physically. As the haze of comfort and relaxation draped around his shoulders, his mind started to wander. Memories he¡¯d been doing his best to suppress bubbling to the surface. A city engulfed in flames. Towering horns, a monstrous shadow looming over a crumbling castle. Two figures flying up to meet it. Rowan¡¯s chest tightened, his throat constricting. ¡°I should have been there,¡± he whispered, pressing his hands against the shower wall, his breath coming in shallow gasps. ¡°I could have¡­¡± Done nothing, he told himself. Died alongside them. Rowan slammed his fist against the wall, his knuckles scraping against the rough stone. The pain grounded him, bringing him back to the present. He took a deep, shuddering breath, letting it out slowly. Acknowledge it and move on. He forced his muscles to relax, clenching his jaw until the memories receded. The truth was, him being there wouldn¡¯t have changed a thing. He hadn¡¯t even Awakened them. Rowan had watched the events unfold from the relative safety of his family¡¯s countryside estate. Watched as the city of his birth burned, as the Jewel of the North fell. Both his parents had been Archmages. Both had advanced their Cores to Violet, on the cusp of grasping the peak. And both had died. More images followed, these ones different but equally as painful. Though in another way entirely. His father¡¯s kind smile. The smell of his mother''s cooking. His siblings laughter as they chased each other through the halls. Then he remembered the day he¡¯d exiled himself to spare his family the disgrace of having a dull child. They had protested. Telling him he didn¡¯t need to go, that they wanted him home, but Rowan had insisted. And in the end, that choice had saved his life. I was supposed to be there. I was supposed to¡ª Before the thought could finish, Rowan clamped down on it with a vice-like grip, sending it into the further recesses of his mind. A familiar chill settled into his bones, his thoughts settling. I¡¯ll make them pay. He repeated the vow like a mantra. He would find out who was responsible. He would grow strong enough to face them¡ªand when he did, he would get justice. But that path wasn¡¯t going to be a short one. The water crystal flickered, drained of its mana. Rowan sighed, plucking it out and throwing it into the basket with all the rest of them. Drying himself off, he threw on some clean clothes and made his way towards the bedroom, collapsing onto his bed. Exhaustion tugged at his consciousness, but he knew sleep would evade him, the same way it had for the last year. Rowan glanced at his status, determination filling him.
Core: Red [74%] [5 Levels]
It had been five months since he¡¯d gained the System, and he was already three-quarters of the way towards advancing his Core to Orange¡ªtowards gaining a second affinity. Something that took most mages years to accomplish, Rowan could have done in a month. He didn¡¯t know the full extent of what his trait did. He¡¯d only heard of them in passing from the many tutors who had taught him over the years, but that was it.
Trait: [Immortal Soul]
Rowan had spent more time than he¡¯d care to admit trying to figure out what having an [Immortal Soul] meant, but he hadn¡¯t gotten far, the deeper truths of his trait eluding him. It gave him an unparalleled speed of progression, that he knew for certain. If only that didn¡¯t require him to spend hours on end alone with his thoughts. He still forced himself to work on it. While he might have been ahead of mages of the same rank, he was still far behind his peers. His unnaturally late Awakening having seen to that. Most gained access to the System at thirteen, and with him turning twenty just a few short months ago, it put him seven years behind. They¡¯re all Yellow-core mages already, Rowan grimaced. Well on their way towards Green. In theory, he could have locked himself in a room and advanced his Core to Orange months ago. Gaining a second affinity was a tantalizing prospect, but he knew better. Why have two sticks when you can have a spear? His mother''s words came to him unbidden, a small smile creeping onto his face. It would have been a mistake to focus all of his efforts on advancing. The five levels he¡¯d get would certainly be useful, but a mage¡¯s power didn¡¯t come from stats. It came from his arsenal.
Whisper: [Flash], [Heat], [Ember Spray], [Heat Wave], [Burning Hands]
Murmur: [Firebolt], [Fire Shield], [Burning Whip]
Chant: [/]
Hymn: [/]
Aria: [/]
Ode: [/]
Epic: [/]
Rowan had spent the better part of his life begging, pleading, and praying to any god that would listen, hoping for a miracle. By seventeen, he¡¯d already resigned himself to the fact he would never wield magic¡ªthat he would never experience the same joy he saw in the eyes of those around him. He closed his eyes, letting his body sink into the soft bedding, trying to relax. Almost absentmindedly, he started threading mana through his channels, moving it down a familiar path. It gave him something to hold on to, the weight of it grounding him. The magic circuit for [Fireball] completed. It would take only a flicker of his Intent to turn his room into a smoldering pile of rubble, but Rowan held back, continuing to channel his mana without giving it meaning. Shame I didn¡¯t manage to reach a vent today, he thought to himself. I¡¯m so close to mastering it. I can almost taste it. His Intent was crude. Barely strong enough to manifest the Chantl. But it worked, and it would only grow stronger with practice. Rowan had taken to magic like a starved man offered a feast. It was one of the few things that gave him respite from the darkness that swirled ever closer. There were circuits to memorize, spells to master, and even the pantheon itself wouldn¡¯t have been able to keep him away from that task. Suddenly, the familiar flutter of wings distracted him from his thoughts. A black blur shot through the window a moment later, landing beside him with an excited trill. Rowan groaned, pulling a pillow over his face. ¡°Seriously, Kai? Again with the rats?¡± His raven familiar tilted his head proudly, hopping closer and dropping the unfortunate rodent onto the bed. ¡°No,¡± Rowan muttered, peeking out from under the pillow. ¡°You¡¯re getting blood all over my sheets. Take that up to your nest.¡± Kai croaked indignantly before snatching his prize back, pecking at Rowan¡¯s hand and taking off, clearly offended at the lack of enthusiasm for his magnificent hunt. He landed in his nest and gulped down the rat in one swift motion, bones and all. Despite himself, Rowan chuckled, feeling lighter than he had just a moment ago. ¡°You glutton, you don¡¯t know how easy you have it,¡± he smiled, scanning his familiar. ¡°Gaining levels from eating. Now that just isn¡¯t fair.¡±
Level: 9
Body: Iron II [9 Levels]
Core: N/A
Kai cawed smugly, tilting his head up with pride. Rowan chuckled. ¡°Don¡¯t get cocky. Give me a week or two to advance and I¡¯ll be a higher level again. Won¡¯t be so tough then.¡± His royal highness didn¡¯t deign that with a response, instead fluffing his feathers and settling in for a nap. Rowan shook his head in amusement, pulling off the slightly bloody sheet and tossing them into the corner. He lay back down, staring at the ceiling as his thoughts churned. It was still daylight out. He¡¯d teleported to the Plateau at sunrise, and failing to reach a vent had cut his trip short. The whole day was ahead of him, and Rowan certainly wasn¡¯t going to spend it in bed. He sat back up, exhaling slowly. ¡°Kai, I¡¯m heading out,¡± he said, pulling his coat back on. ¡°I¡¯ll come and get you if I plan on heading into the Wilds.¡± His familiar let out a sleepy trill, too comfortable to protest. Rowan left the bedroom, moving through the house he¡¯d been renting for the last few months. He knew exactly where he was going. The Guild Hall was always busy. There was always something to keep his mind occupied. Rowan opened the door and stepped out into the vibrant city of Litwick. It wasn¡¯t Eiseylth, in fact, it was as far from it as one could get. He¡¯d exchanged the deep north for the far south. The grand cathedrals for threadbare temples. The Archmages and Praetorians for hedge mages and Adventurers. But Rowan was exactly where he needed to be. For what he planned, this city was perfect. 2 - A Quest Taken Rowan strode through the bustling streets of Litwick, walking along the well-worn cobblestone paths. The tang of grilled meat and spiced ale lingered in the air, mingling with the faint scent of wildflowers that bloomed just outside the city walls. Vendors called out to passersby, hawking their wares in loud, cheerful voices. Litwick was a peaceful settlement in the Verdant Vale with around ten thousand people calling it home. Barely large enough to even be considered a city. Tucked away in an insignificant corner of the kingdom, Litwick was exactly where Rowan wanted to be. Far away from anything¡ªand anyone¡ªimportant. The chances of someone coming to look for him here were slim. Especially after the way he¡¯d left Eiseylth. Not many people had cared about a wayward son of a fallen Great House, so the moment he¡¯d Awakened and gained access to the Vault, Rowan had used the tokens inside to teleport away. Leaving a burned-down mansion in his wake. He doubted anyone had looked too far into it. Rowan might have been the last scion of a once prosperous bloodline, but he¡¯d also been dull. Cut off from the System and all the boons that came with it. To the rest of the world, House Athlain had died on the day the demon was summoned. His gaze wandered over to the towering walls that surrounded the city. The same walls that every settlement needed to have if it wanted even the slightest chance of lasting more than a year. The Wilds were an unforgiving place, and as of late, people were asking themselves if they should have built them higher. Snippets of conversations came to him as he made his way towards the Guild Hall. There were talks of farms being raided during the night, of monsters that had no business being this far south appearing more and more often. There were other conversations too, but those he tried his hardest to ignore. ¡°...telling you, ever since House Athlain fell, the world¡¯s gone to shit,¡± a wiry shopkeeper lamented. ¡°Ain¡¯t that the truth,¡± a woman nodded. ¡°The other Houses are so focused on carving up their lands that they¡¯re leaving the Walls unmanned. Who knows what kind of horrors managed to pass through while they play their little games.¡± ¡°I heard there were harpy sightings in Tumbleton,¡± another man added. ¡°Can you believe that? Harpies? In the Vale?¡± he shook his head. ¡°We¡¯re in for a tough year, that¡¯s for damn sure.¡± The shopkeeper sighed, handing a meat skewer to the woman. ¡°As always, shit flows downwards. Not much we can do but endure and wait for it to pass.¡± Rowan kept walking, his fists clenched. They don¡¯t know how right they are, he thought to himself. It¡¯s a full migration. Something gets past the Walls, establishes its territory, and forces the other monsters to move. And down the chain it goes, from the Walls to the Vale. He gritted his teeth. Riches and power, that¡¯s all the other Houses see. His family had been a bulwark against the Far Wilds of the North for generations. Safeguarding the kingdom from threats uncountable. It had made them rich, and powerful, yet it was in the service of something greater. Rowan had been taught that the privileges afforded to them came with a cost. They came with a duty. An obligation. It was the burden of the powerful to lead their charges into a brighter future. To give them a chance to step into that role themselves. He knew it was already too late to stop the surge. It was more than a year in the making, and with the turmoil the fall of his House caused, it might take decades for balance to return. Rowan passed through the now familiar streets, moving past blacksmiths and tailors, shops and taverns. But it wasn¡¯t until he got closer to the Guild Hall that he began seeing adventurers. Distinguishing them from regular citizens wasn¡¯t all that hard. They openly wore their weapons, their armor gleaming in the sunlight. Some of them caught his eye, nodding in greeting. He returned the nods and continued on his way. It wasn¡¯t long before he reached his destination. The Adventurer¡¯s Guild Hall was more a compound than a singular building. It occupied the whole street, the marble facade polished, though the interior was anything but. The massive wooden doors stood perpetually over. Night or day, it didn¡¯t matter. There was always something happening here. The only time it seemed to quiet down was in the early hours of the morning, when most of the people who spent their night here slept off their drunken stupors. Just as Rowan stepped inside, a mug sailed across the room, crashing into the wall behind him. He ducked away from the splash, his gaze moving to the commotion. ¡°I saw it first,¡± a tall, wide-shouldered man said, glaring down at a lanky-looking youth tucking a piece of paper into his pocket. ¡°Then you must have seen me taking it too,¡± the youth shrugged, not seeming all that bothered by the other adventurer¡¯s threatening posture. The man growled, and just as he pulled his arm back to throw a punch, the barkeep interjected. ¡°You know the rules,¡± he grumbled, absentmindedly polishing a glass, his deep, raspy voice stopping the adventurer cold. ¡°If you want to fight, do it in the pits.¡± Rowan snorted a laugh, Emanuel¡¯s job seems exhausting. Though the grumpy old man was certainly more than capable of doing it. After all, being among the few dozen Silver-ranks in the city came with some perks. Respect being one of them.
Level: 27
Body: Silver IV [27 Levels]
Core: N/A
None of the other people in the Hall seemed to be paying all that much attention to the situation¡ªthe usual chaos of a midday at the Guild nothing new to them. ¡°Winner gets the quest,¡± the man said, his fists clenched at his sides. The boy snorted. ¡°I already have it. Why would I risk it for no gain?¡± With a sly smile, he rubbed his fingers together. ¡°Five gold.¡± The man¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°Are you out of your mind!? The quest¡¯s only worth three!¡± ¡°You scared Kiki?¡± the boy grinned, patting his pocket. ¡°Think you¡¯re gonna lose?¡± That seemed to set the man off, his eyes narrowing. ¡°I¡¯m going to enjoy making you squeal.¡± Nothing more needed to be said, and the two adventurers made their way towards the arena. Unfortunately for them, it was already occupied. Though it didn¡¯t seem like it would stay that way for long. Inside the dueling pit, a short but sturdy woman was straddling a massive bear of a man, raining fists and elbows onto his face. Even over the cheering, Rowan thought he heard the sound of a nose breaking. With a haymaker, the man¡¯s eyes rolled back, and an even louder cheer went out. Her fight won, the woman didn¡¯t feel a need to continue pummeling her opponent. She stood up, swaying slightly on her feet with a bloody grin stretched across her face, raising her fist into the air. It didn¡¯t take long for the unconscious man to be dragged outside while the woman jumped over the railing. Landing next to her team as they congratulated her, a mug quickly thrust into her hands. The earlier duo already jumping in to replace them. Being an adventurer required a certain type of personality. And with so many of them in the same place¡ªnot to mention the copious amount of booze flowing from the taps¡ªit was practically a given that disagreements would arise. The problem with that was that these people fought for a living. They faced down monsters and danced with death every time they left for the Wilds. If they were allowed to fight amongst themselves without any rules, the city of Litwick would be without adventurers in less than a fortnight. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. That was where the pits came in. No weapons. No skills. Just pure martial might. It wasn¡¯t the fairest way to settle disputes, but it was a good one, and that was all that mattered here. Rowan looked around, trying to see if he could spot anyone familiar. After a moment, his eyes landed on a familiar redhead and a burly swordsman talking next to the quest board. Both of them were armed, with the woman holding a fine looking spear by her side, and the man with a greatsword strapped across his back. Rowan had taken on a few missions with a couple of different teams. And out of all of them, the Crimson Grove was by far his favorite. They were capable and driven. Willing to take on the hard, dangerous tasks that were more trouble than they were worth. Their desire to grow stronger matching Rowan¡¯s own. And it doesn''t hurt that they don¡¯t treat me like a walking meal ticket. Most teams were eager to have a mage join them when venturing into the Wilds. Even though Rowan hadn¡¯t advanced his core to Orange yet, simply possessing an affinity made him as valuable as a Silver-ranked warrior¡ªthe tier at which they gained an Aura. That usually ended with him killing the monsters from range while others stood around and watched, happy to have someone else do all the work. From their perspective, it was free gold. But for Rowan, it was a waste of time. He could do the same thing on his own. Rowan walked up to the duo, glancing over their shoulders. ¡°See anything good?¡± The girl yelped and spun around, glaring daggers at him. ¡°I told you to stop doing that,¡± she said, crossing her arms. Rowan suppressed a laugh, knowing it would only set her off. ¡°What? It¡¯s not my fault you¡¯re so jumpy.¡± Annie nudged him with the heel of her spear. ¡°You¡¯re a mage, not a rogue,¡± she muttered. ¡°You have no business being sneaky. Make a bit of noise, would you? You¡¯re lucky I didn¡¯t skewer you.¡± Rowan raised an eyebrow, smirking. ¡°You¡¯d miss.¡± Annie narrowed her eyes. ¡°Wanna bet?¡± ¡°Alright, alright, enough of that now,¡± Nemir snorted, looking at Rowan with an amused smile. ¡°It¡¯s good to see you again, Jamis,¡± he said, extending a hand. ¡°We were actually just talking about you.¡± Rowan returned the handshake, the swordsman''s callused palm gripping his firmly. ¡°Oh? What about?¡± Annie tore a flier from the board, handing it to him. ¡°Goblins.¡± Goblins? He frowned, taking the flier and quickly scanning it. On their own, goblins weren¡¯t much of a threat. They were small, vicious creatures, with not a lot of brains and even less brawn. In a small group, even a Bronze-ranked team should have been more than enough to deal with them. But the quest was ranked for Iron and above, and as he finished reading, Rowan realized why. ¡°A pack, huh?¡± he muttered, his lips twisting into a half-smile. ¡°Perfect.¡± His visit to the Plateau had left him feeling antsy, and taking out his frustrations on those green pests was exactly what he needed. ¡°Alright. I¡¯m in,¡± Rowan nodded, handing the flier back. ¡°That was quick,¡± Annie smirked. He shrugged. ¡°I could use the training.¡± ¡°The reward isn¡¯t bad either,¡± Annie nodded. ¡°Twenty gold to take out some pests? Sign me up,¡± she glanced at him, arching an eyebrow. ¡°You still fine with our usual split? I wouldn¡¯t want some other team poaching you because you can¡¯t feed yourself.¡± Rowan snorted. ¡°First off, I¡¯m not a ham. And secondly, yeah, I¡¯m more than fine with it. We work well together, and trying to find another team I won¡¯t have to babysit sounds exhausting.¡± Not like I need the gold anyway, he thought to himself, instinctively rolling the ring on his finger. But I¡¯m definitely not going to tell her that. She¡¯d never buy another round again. Nemir neatly folded the piece of paper, putting it into his pocket. ¡°Fantastic,¡± he smiled. ¡°I¡¯ll go and get the quest assigned to us. Annie, could you inform Silvia and Omi? I think they¡¯re out back in the training yard.¡± ¡°Sure thing. Meet back here in half an hour?¡± Nemir glanced at Rowan. ¡°Does that work for you?¡± His Core was still mostly empty from his fights in the Plateau, and for other mages, half an hour wasn¡¯t nearly enough time to refill it. It took a whole day for his mana to replenish naturally, but that was if he did nothing to help it along. Meditation could cut that down to just around three hours, and Rowan had a way of pushing that down even further. ¡°Yeah, I should be fine,¡± he answered. ¡°I practiced some spells in the morning. I¡¯ll go and meditate, get my mana back up.¡± Nemir nodded. ¡°Alright. Take as long as you need. The quest isn¡¯t going anywhere, and I¡¯d rather have you at full strength than for us to get there quicker.¡± ¡°Probably a good idea,¡± Annie smirked. ¡°Meditation is supposed to be calming, right? And you look wound tighter than an alchemist''s purse.¡± Rowan forced his muscles to relax, unclenching his fists, though the tension didn¡¯t leave him entirely. Meditating wasn¡¯t something he enjoyed, and calming was the last word he¡¯d used to describe it. Being forced to sit in silence with his own thoughts rarely ended well for him. ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± he waved her off. ¡°Just excited.¡± Nemir clapped him on the back, a reassuring smile on his face. ¡°Keep that fire stoked. We¡¯re going to need it.¡± With that, the burly-looking swordsman walked away. Making his way towards the reception. Annie, on the other hand, didn¡¯t move. Tapping her foot impatiently and watching him with an eager smirk. ¡°I¡¯m not a mind reader, Annie,¡± Rowan snorted. ¡°Use your words.¡± She flashed him a grin. ¡°Scan me.¡± Rowan complied, his eyes widening in surprise.
Level: 11
Body: Iron III [11 Levels]
Core: N/A
¡°Would you look at that,¡± he whistled. ¡°Organ Fortification done, huh? Well, congratulations,¡± Rowan returned her grin. ¡°At least now you won¡¯t crumple like a wet piece of paper when someone punches you in the liver.¡± ¡°That happened once!¡± she shot back, but even Rowan¡¯s teasing wasn¡¯t able to hamper her good mood. ¡°But yeah, Iron III,¡± she shook her head, letting out a long, drawn-out breath. ¡°Finally.¡± ¡°Just Blood Purification and Nerve Reinforcement to go,¡± Rowan nodded, a genuine smile on his face. ¡°You¡¯ll be Silver in no time.¡± ¡°Here¡¯s to hoping,¡± Annie chuckled. ¡°What about you?¡± she asked, glancing at him knowingly. ¡°Hitting Bronze II isn¡¯t all that hard. I¡¯d even be willing to help you out.¡± ¡°Would you now?¡± Rowan snorted. ¡°And that wouldn¡¯t have anything to do with you wanting to spend a few days hitting me with a stick?¡± ¡°No way!¡± she exclaimed, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. ¡°My reasons are purely selfless. I¡¯m honestly offended you¡¯d even think that.¡± Rowan smirked. ¡°Yeah, yeah, whatever you say.¡± She might be right though, he thought. Skin Toughening isn¡¯t all that hard to do. And gaining a skill would definitely be useful. But like everything in his life, time was the limiting factor. His list of tasks was ever growing, and the hours in a day unfortunately stayed the same. Mastering spells and advancing his Core took up a bulk of his time, leaving little room for anything else. The idea of working on his body was definitely tempting¡ªanother layer of strength to add¡ªbut finding the time seemed impossible. After I advanced, he decided. I have healing potions in the Vault to help me along. It shouldn¡¯t take me more than a week. It wouldn¡¯t be fun, but Body refinement rarely was. ¡°I might take you up on that offer,¡± he said. ¡°But after I push my Core to Orange. That¡¯s the priority right now.¡± ¡°You mages have it so easy,¡± she grumbled. ¡°All you have to do is think real hard and poof, you¡¯re stronger.¡± Rowan rolled his eyes. ¡°I¡¯m not going to dignify that comment with a response.¡± She chuckled, but a moment later, Annie¡¯s expression grew serious. ¡°You know, these goblin packs have been appearing more and more often,¡± she ran a hand through her blood-red hair. ¡°There¡¯s been talk of a tribe.¡± Rowan¡¯s eyes widened. A goblin tribe was a serious threat, and for a city as small and isolated as Litwick, it might prove too much for them to handle on their own. ¡°A tribe? Do you know which one?¡± Rowan asked. ¡°If they¡¯re this far south, they¡¯re bound to have passed by a settlement or two.¡± ¡°No. It¡¯s just rumors for now. But with the way things are looking?¡± She shook her head. ¡°I¡¯m not going to be holding my breath. Qui¨CI mean, the Guildmistress¡ª¡± she quickly corrected herself, narrowing her eyes and daring him to say anything. ¡°¡ªhas scouts looking into it. If I find out anything else, I¡¯ll let you know.¡± Rowan chuckled. ¡°We all know she¡¯s your aunt, Annie. It''s not a secret.¡± ¡°Yeah, but that doesn''t mean I want everyone else to know,¡± she muttered, glancing around to make sure no one overheard them. ¡°Anyways, I¡¯m going to find those two. You go and meditate. We¡¯ll meet back here when you¡¯re done.¡± And with that, she turned around and walked away, leaving Rowan on his own. He stood there a moment, thinking over what she said. Goblin tribes were Gold-ranked threats, and it wasn¡¯t just their numbers that made them dangerous. They were led by a Warchief and a Warlock, monsters that only two people in Litwick had any chance of dealing with. Quinea, the Guildmistress and the only Gold-ranked adventurer in the city, and Tremil, the mage advisor and only Yellow-core mage. And it didn¡¯t end there. Tribes weren¡¯t just filled with mindless goblins, but hobgoblins and shamans¡ªmonsters you needed Silver-ranks to deal with. Rowan sighed. I guess it¡¯s starting. It was hard not to feel nervous about being in the middle of a monster surge, but that was overshadowed by a burgeoning excitement. He needed to grow stronger. After all, that was the reason he¡¯d come to Litwick in the first place. To grow in power, to learn his magic, and to become something more than what he was. And fighting against shamans was the perfect way to do that. They might have been monsters, but more than that, they were casters. A whetstone to sharpen myself against. That¡¯s what I need. With renewed determination, Rowan moved to a quieter corner of the Guild Hall, the clattering of mugs and impacts of fists fading behind him. He sat down on an empty table, running his fingers over the rough grain. Looking around, he made sure that nobody was watching and moved a hand into his coat, summoning a vial filled with clear blue liquid.
Name: Mana Potion
Grade: Basic
On its own, the potion wouldn¡¯t do much. It was actually less effective than meditating, but Rowan had something others didn¡¯t. His trait. Mana potions didn¡¯t actually refill a mage''s reserves¡ªat least not until they were a much higher rank. But what they did do was agitate the Core, forcing it to refill itself faster. It wasn¡¯t a pleasant experience, and meditating on top of that was something no sane mage would ever do. It could lead to straining your soul, and in the worst cases, actually cracking your Core. But Rowan didn¡¯t have that problem. He uncorked the vile with a satisfying pop and gulped it down in one quick swig, feeling the bitter liquid burn slightly as it settled in his stomach. It was this next part that always proved problematic for him, but he closed his eyes and forced his mind to settle. His thoughts were a jumbled mess of excitement, frustration, and sorrow. The same as always. And as the world around him slowly slipped away, the lack of anything to focus on heightened them¡ªmade them jump to the forefront. His memories started burrowing out of the holes he¡¯d stuck them in, and all Rowan could do was endure. Gritting his teeth, he focused on his Core, feeling the potion start to work its magic. It thrummed with energy, the dual stimulation of the potion and his meditation working wonders. It started filling with mana at a noticeable rate, but Rowan was too distracted to notice. He settled in, knowing the next half hour wouldn¡¯t be pleasant. Memories rose¡ªunbidden. The faint crackle of fire, the acrid scent of wrongness in the air, the light of Dawn and the serenity of Dusk illuminating an orange sky. Rowan winced, forcing the memories back. But as always, the weight of them lingered, pressing down on him like a lead cloak. By the time his Core was once again full, he was more than ready to leave. A dull ache spread across his shoulders as he opened his eyes, his muscles coiled and ready to snap. It took him nearly a minute to get his breathing under control, sweat dripping down his back, feeling like he¡¯d spent the last half hour sprinting. Looking around, he spotted Nemir returning from the reception. Annie had managed to wrangle Omi and Silvia, the three of them already geared up and waiting by a nearby table. Standing up, Rowan stretched, trying to work out the tension. It didn¡¯t help all that much, but thankfully for him, he knew exactly what would. Time to go hunt some goblins. And with that exciting thought, he started making his way towards the group. 3 - Beyond The Walls ¡°...should have clocked him upside the head,¡± the sour looking rogue muttered as Rowan made his way over to the group. Silvia rolled her eyes. ¡°Omi, not everything needs to end in a fight. ¡± ¡°Omitar. Omi-tar,¡± he said poignantly. ¡°Stop butchering my name.¡± Before the conversation could devolve into their usual bickering, Nemir saw him walking over, a relieved expression flashing across his face. ¡°Ah, there he is,¡± he said. ¡°Are you ready?¡± Rowan nodded. ¡°Ready and eager to scalp some goblins,¡± he said with a strained smile, though besides Annie, none of the group seemed to notice it. She shot him a questioning glance, but he ignored it, hoping she¡¯d leave it alone. ¡°Murderous,¡± Omi smirked. ¡°I like it.¡± ¡°Jamis!¡± Silvia exclaimed, her eyes lighting up as she saw him. She rushed forward, giving him a big hug. He still hadn¡¯t gotten used to people calling him that. Rowan wasn¡¯t an uncommon name, but in the wrong circles, it could lead to the wrong kind of attention. The chances of someone connecting the dots were slim, but there weren¡¯t many black-haired and gray-eyed Rowan¡¯s walking around the kingdom. Besides, it never hurt to be cautious. Rowan chuckled, patting her on the back. ¡°Nice to see you too, Sil.¡± She pulled back, gripping his shoulders and staring at him intently. ¡°Where is he?¡± she asked with uncharacteristic seriousness. Rowan laughed, pushing her off. ¡°At home. Probably lazing around.¡± ¡°Can we¡­?¡± ¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± he waved her off. ¡°He¡¯d peck my eyes out if I didn¡¯t take him with us.¡± ¡°Yes!¡± she pumped her fist. ¡°And by the way, he wouldn¡¯t do that to you. He¡¯s a good boy,¡± she said, pointing a finger at him. ¡°Maybe a finger or two. But an eye?¡± she shook her head. ¡°No way.¡± Annie snorted. ¡°Come on, let¡¯s go pick up that bloodthirsty little menace. Daylight¡¯s a wastin¡¯.¡± They left the crowded Guild Hall, the din of rowdy adventures and the clink of mugs fading behind them. Outside, the sun hung high in the air, casting short shadows on the cobblestone streets of Litwick. The scent of baked bread and spiced meat drifted from the nearby stalls, a welcome change from the stale air inside. Rowan inhaled deeply, savoring the crisp summer breeze that carried the faint whiff of freshly cut hay. ¡°Gods, does it smell in there,¡± he muttered, wrinkling his nose. ¡°Should have picked Wind instead of Fire,¡± Annie teased. ¡°You¡¯d never have to worry about smelling sweat and unwashed pits ever again.¡± Rowan snorted. ¡°Gee, I wish I thought of that when I was making the single most important decision in my life.¡± ¡°You really should have,¡± Annie nodded sagely. ¡°But oh well, we all make mistakes. At least now you know what to pick next.¡± Rowan chuckled, shaking his head. Annie¡¯s joke hit closer to the mark than she knew. He¡¯d decided on Wind as his second affinity a long time ago. Fire gave him all the offensive power he would ever need, and he tried to shore up his weaknesses by investing into Dexterity. Most mages didn¡¯t fight up close, but Rowan was never one to shy away from a brawl. And to do that, he needed speed. More speed than he could get with just his stats. That was where Wind came in. There were spells to boost mobility. One''s Rowan was more than eager to learn. It also didn¡¯t hurt that the combination led to Lightning at tier-two. One step at a time, he reminded himself. That¡¯s months away, at best. Focus on the present. Looking at the four people accompanying him, Rowan couldn¡¯t help it as his lips curled up into a small, genuine smile. It was easy to fall back on what he knew¡ªbitterness, sorrow, the kind of loneliness that had become second nature. But here, in this distant city so far away from home, surrounded by people who called him a friend, Rowan found himself laughing along to their jokes. For now, the thoughts that perpetually clouded his mind faded away. He knew it wouldn¡¯t last. They would be back, the same as they always did when his head hit the pillow. But right now, he didn¡¯t care. It was a grain of sand against a desert. But it was better than nothing. It was a start. . . . ¡°I¡¯m so happy I could die,¡± Silvia cooed, nuzzling her head against Kai¡¯s soft feathers. When she thought no one was looking, she pulled out a small brown lump and fed it to him.
Name: Beast Pellet
Grade: Basic
¡°Stop spoiling the little glutton,¡± Rowan smiled. ¡°You¡¯ll never get rid of him if you keep doing that.¡± ¡°That¡¯s the plan,¡± Silvia grinned, placing Kai on her shoulder. Rowan frowned. ¡°Are you trying to bribe away my familiar?¡± ¡°Do you even feed the poor guy?¡± Annie added, arching an eyebrow. ¡°He¡¯s all skin and bones.¡± Kai let out an offended squawk, spreading his wings wide, showing off. ¡°Please,¡± Rowan snorted. ¡°He eats like a king.¡±Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. Well, besides the rats. He put a hand into his coat pocket, hiding the fact that he was using his ring and pulling out a similar brown pellet. Only this one was significantly better.
Name: Beast Pellet
Grade: Uncommon
Kai let out a happy trill as Rowan threw the treat high into the air, flapping his powerful wings and heading after it. Silvia was about to say something, but Nemir interjected. ¡°Alright, enough joking around,¡± he said, his expression serious. ¡°We¡¯re almost at the tree-line, keep your eyes peeled.¡± The rest of the team nodded, the playful atmosphere dissipating in moments. Annie¡¯s grip tightened around her spear. Silvia pulled out an arrow and placed it against the string of her bow, her gaze roaming their surroundings. Omi stood next to her, two dangerous-looking daggers in his hands. They had left the safety of the city walls half an hour ago, traveling across the flat plains surrounding the city. This close, the Wilds were relatively tame. Adventurers patrolled at all hours of the day, keeping the farms and the people manning them safe. But they were heading deeper in. Past the treeline that marked the border between Litwick and the Wilds. To a place stronger adventurers than them had lost their lives. It had been rare to find anything besides Vale wolves and Stonetusk boars this close to the city¡ªmonsters that rarely grew stronger than Bronze¡ªbut as of late, even Silver-ranked adventurers kept their guard up. The Crimson Grove was strong for their level. Each one of them was a capable and skilled fighter. Yet they were still in Iron, meaning none of them had an Aura. And without one, the dangers posed by the Wilds were not something to scoff at.
Level: 15
Body: Iron V [15 Levels]
Core: N/A
Level: 13
Body: Iron IV [13 Levels]
Core: N/A
Level: 13
Body: Iron IV [13 Levels]
Core: N/A
Level: 11
Body: Iron III [11 Levels]
Core: N/A
Nemir stood at the front, his greatsword sheathed and hanging over his shoulders, a firm grip on the handle. He was the highest leveled among them, and from what Rowan knew, he was almost ready to advance. Annie stood slightly behind and on Nemir¡¯s right, guarding their front. She might have been the lowest level among them, yet that didn¡¯t make her weaker. Rowan had seen her fight, and the way she used her spear was nothing short of masterful. It was skills that made a warrior, not their level. Omi and Silvia trailed behind, keeping Rowan in the center and guarding their rear. Both of them had skills that heightened their perception, something that was vital for where they were heading. Rowan felt his excitement build as they finally entered the forest. A familiar focus settled over him like a comforting embrace, chasing away anything that might distract him from the task at hand. His Core was full, and his spells were ready. All he had to do was try to keep the thrill from overwhelming him. Out here, with danger lurking around every corner, was the only place Rowan felt at ease. It was simple. Monsters would try to kill him, and he would kill them in turn. This was no place for deep thoughts, no place for painful memories. Just him, his magic, and foes to slay. As they left the open plains behind, going past the looming edge of the treeline, the environment shifted. Towering trees stretched toward the sky, their thick, intertwined branches forming a natural barrier against the sunlight. The air grew heavier, cooler, carrying the earthy scent of damp soil and moss. A stark contrast to the open, sunlit plains they¡¯d just crossed. The Wilds seemed to pulse with life. The rustling of leaves and the distant calls of unseen creatures creating a constant, low hum. Unlike the gentle breeze that had followed them since they left the city, the wind here felt different¡ªstifled, as if the forest had swallowed it whole. As they stepped further in, Rowan glanced around at his companions, feeling the same tension they did. Shadows stretched in strange patterns across the forest floor, where roots twisted like serpents, half-buried in the undergrowth. This was no ordinary forest, a fact all of them knew. Here, nature ruled, and anyone who entered was merely a guest. Kai fluttered from branch to branch, keeping watch alongside Silvia and Omi. For the first ten minutes, nothing disturbed them. But that changed when his familiar let out a loud screech. Suddenly, Silva pointed her bow to the side, fully knocking her arrow. ¡°Vinesnakes!¡± she shouted, the string thrumming with energy as she activated [Quickshot]. The arrow flew through the air with alarming speed, impacting a nearby tree before Rowan even registered the twang of her bow. A loud hiss followed it, her arrow impaling a serpent that was wrapped around its trunk.
Level: 7
Body: Iron I [7 Levels]
Core: N/A
Its dark brown coloring had made it almost invisible, yet with three members of their team on the lookout, the snake never stood a chance. ¡°Form up and watch the canopy!¡± Nemir shouted, pulling out his greatsword with practiced ease. Rowan¡¯s heart beat like a war drum, the thrill of battle growing as more shapes made themselves known. The serpents slithered down the massive trees, moving faster than creatures of that size had any right to. The rest of the team moved into position. Their expressions were determined and composed, more than ready for the fight ahead. With the monster''s ambush foiled, there were only two options left open to them. They could either fight, or flee. And the denizens of the Wilds didn''t have a reputation for restraint. His pulse quickened as the serpents drew nearer. The rush of battle, the thrill of the fight wasn¡¯t something he could resist. And in the end, he didn¡¯t want to. This was where he thrived. Out here, in the Wilds, everything made sense. The chaos quieted the perpetual storm brewing in his mind. A [Firebolt] burst from his fingertips almost unconsciously, and a serpent crumpled, its body writhing as flames engulfed its head. A grin tugged at his lips. This was what he needed. An outlet. Control. For the moment, he could let go of the pain gnawing at him and lose himself in the fight. But Annie¡¯s sharp voice cut through his reverie like a slap. ¡°No!¡± she barked, her tone firm. ¡°Stop wasting mana. We¡¯re after goblins, not garden pests.¡± Her command should have grounded him, but instead, a knot of frustration twisted in his chest. They were deep in the Wilds, surrounded by enemies, and she wanted him to stop? Rowan clenched his fists as mana moved through his channels, another spell already forming. But just as quickly as it came, he shoved it down, trying to push away the fog clouding his mind. He knew she was right. These monsters weren¡¯t threats, they were distractions. Yet it didn¡¯t make his choice any easier. His fists clenched, he watched as the others dealt with the threat. ¡°Incoming!¡± Nemir shouted. With a roar, he raised his sword high in the air, cleaving a serpent in half as it lunged at him. Silvia followed it up with an arrow through another¡¯s eye, while Omi became a whirlwind of steel and blood. His daggers flashed as he tore through their numbers, severing heads and piercing through their scales with pinpoint precision¡ªeach strike lethal. They didn¡¯t need him. Not for this. Rowan¡¯s gaze flickered towards the writing bodies of the dead serpents, his hand twitching. He could do so much more¡ªhe could end this fight in seconds, decimate these monsters with a few well-placed spells. The weight of his own mana felt like a storm just waiting to be unleashed. A beast he had to keep chained. ¡°Behind!¡± Silvia shouted. Rowan whirled around just in time to see a massive snake slither out of the underbrush, at least four times the length and twice as thick as all the rest.
Level: 15
Body: Iron V [15 Levels]
Core: N/A
His heart leapt at the sight, his finger itching to weave the next spell. Rowan caught Annie¡¯s eye, silently asking for permission. Just let me¡ª But she shook her head, nodding towards Nemir. ¡°Hold off the big one!¡± she commanded, stabbing a monster through the skull and pinning it to the ground. ¡°We¡¯ll deal with the others and take it out together.¡± Nemir didn¡¯t waste any time, disengaging and moving towards what had to be the matriarch of the nest. Rowan forced himself to step back, mana still moving through his channels. This wasn¡¯t the Plateau. This wasn¡¯t just him and the beasts. These were his friends¡ªpeople who counted on him, trusted him with their lives. And the last thing they needed was a reckless mage trying to prove his worth. He exhaled slowly, his muscles still tense but his thoughts clearer. Rowan let the excitement ebb away, leaving behind only a calm focus. That focus proved immediately useful. From up above, he heard a branch snap, followed by a loud caw. His gaze snapped upwards just in time to see three shapes falling straight towards them. One was thrown to the side when a black blur barreled into it. Another was shot out of the air by a well-timed arrow from Silvia. That left only one. The one directly over Rowan. 4 - Through The Wilds Rowan¡¯s body reacted before his mind fully processed the situation. The magic circuit for [Burning Whip] flared to life and a tendril of flame lashed out, coiling around the descending serpent. Its scales sizzled and cracked as the whip dug deep, drawing a sharp, agonized hiss from the beast. Its body writhed in the air, but Rowan didn¡¯t flinch. He tightened the fiery grip, aiming to kill it before it even hit the ground. With a wet crunch, the creature¡¯s body ruptured, spraying blood and viscera across the battlefield. Followed by the familiar stench of charred flesh, thick and pungent. He remembered the first time he¡¯d killed with his magic¡ªhow his stomach had churned at the sight, how his eyes had watered from the smell. Now though, it felt almost comforting. There was control in it. Control Rowan craved. Two more creatures fell. Silvia¡¯s arrow struck one with pinpoint precision, while the other was torn apart by Kai¡¯s razor-sharp talons. His familiar a black blur as he shredded the monster. The last body slammed into the ground, but Rowan¡¯s focus was already elsewhere. His gaze found Annie, who danced around the matriarch with deadly grace. Each strike of her spear was deliberate, thought out, each thrust and slash tearing into the serpent''s flesh. It was a fluid, brutal display that reminded Rowan exactly why he trusted her¡ªand the Crimson Grove. For a moment, Rowan paused. The rest of the team was tearing through what remained of their opponents with ease. Nemir and Omi formed a wall at the front, while Silvia continued to rain death from range, each arrow finding its mark. Their attacks were precise, ruthless, and efficient. His [Burning Whip] still crackled with energy, half its mana remaining. It would have been a waste to dismiss it, so instead, he spun on his heel and dashed towards Annie. He caught her eye as she circled the matriarch. She nodded, understanding his unspoken intent. Grinning, Rowan darted in the opposite direction, forcing the creature to divide its attention as he allowed the thrill to run through his veins once more. His eyes narrowed, his heartbeat quickened, and in that moment, the rest of the world faded away. Taking with it all of his unnecessary thoughts. Leaving behind only the feeling of the mana burning through his channels and the desire to kill this monster threatening his team. ¡°Hold it down!¡± Annie shouted, ducking under the serpent¡¯s lashing tail. ¡°I¡¯ll go for the kill!¡± Rowan gave a sharp nod, a determined expression on his face. Annie lunged, her spear aimed for the serpent¡¯s eye, but the creature jerked its head back just in time. The weapon grazed its armored scales, leaving a deep scratch instead of the killing blow she¡¯d been hoping for. A snarl escaped her as she leaped back, evading the creature¡¯s snapping jaws. Rowan saw his chance. His fiery whip shot forward, coiling around the serpent''s head and yanking its jaw shut. ¡°Now!¡± he barked, feeling the mana in his spell draining rapidly. The monster thrashed wildly as flames licked at its skull, but Rowan held firm. Annie didn¡¯t waste any time. Her spear became a blur as she drove it through the serpent¡¯s eye, the tip piercing through its skull and deep into its brain. It convulsed once, then twice, and finally, it went limp. Dead. Rowan let his spell dissipate, the last of its mana burning out. He turned around, glancing towards the rest of the team as they finished off what remained of the nest. ¡°Well,¡± Omi muttered, putting a dying serpent out of its misery with a quick thrust of his daggers. ¡°That was a nice warmup.¡± Annie pulled out her spear, surveying the battlefield littered with bodies. ¡°More than a dozen of them, and a matriarch on top,¡± she grinned. ¡°Either we¡¯re the first ones to come across this nest, or we just finished another quest.¡± Nemir kneeled down next to a dead serpent, prying open its jaws and tearing out two of its fangs. ¡°With a matriarch in the mix, it¡¯s bound to be a handsome bounty,¡± he looked at the rest of them. ¡°Well? What are you waiting for?¡± he said, gesturing at the snakes. ¡°Get to it. We still have a goblin pack to hunt down.¡± ¡°You do that. I¡¯m gonna go gather my arrows,¡± Silvia chimed in, eyeing the mass of bodies with a shudder. ¡°Slowly. Very, very slowly.¡± With the battle over, the tension slowly drained from Rowan¡¯s body. His shoulders sagged as the adrenaline ebbed away. He sighed and walked toward Annie who was struggling to pry out one of the matriarch¡¯s massive fangs. ¡°Hey,¡± Rowan said, kneeling beside her and taking out his dagger to help. ¡°Sorry about that,¡± he winced, the words feeling awkward in his mouth. ¡°You were right. There was no need for me to get involved. I should have held back and let you deal with them.¡± Annie chuckled, patting his back, trying to not so subtly clean her bloody hands. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. I get it. You¡¯re used to having the biggest stick and you like waving it around,¡± she smirked. ¡°You¡¯re not the first mage I¡¯ve met.¡± Grunting, she finally tore the fang free and grinned at the trophy. ¡°Like mining for gold,¡± she muttered before standing and tossing the fang into her pack.Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. She turned to Rowan, her expression softening. ¡°Look, I¡¯m not going to pry into what¡¯s got you so jumpy today. If you wanted to talk about it, you would¡¯ve told us. But out here, we¡¯re a team. We trust each other. Don¡¯t forget that.¡± She was right, and Rowan knew it. His desire to exert control was dangerous out here. They had an established pecking order, with Nemir leading the team and Annie calling the shots during fights. If he didn¡¯t want to get any of them killed with his recklessness, he needed to calm down. ¡°I know, I know,¡± he admitted, running a hand through his hair. ¡°Just got a bit excited, is all. Can¡¯t promise it won¡¯t happen again, but I¡¯ll try to keep it in check.¡± Annie rolled her eyes. ¡°Be as excited as you want, just don¡¯t be stupid,¡± she gestured at the decimated Vinesnakes. ¡°Most of these were high Bronze and low Iron. We all know that you¡¯d be able to smite them out of existence with a wave of your hand, you don¡¯t need to prove anything to us,¡± she said with a small smile. I¡¯m not proving myself to you, Rowan wanted to say, but the words got stuck in his throat. So instead, he just nodded. ¡°Alright, glad we sorted that out.¡± She smirked, nudging him with the butt of her spear. ¡°Now get to prying. These teeth aren¡¯t going to pull themselves.¡± That managed to get a small chuckle out of him, and he complied. She was right. There were teeth to pull and goblins to kill. And he wouldn¡¯t do either by standing around. . . . Adventuring was often glamorized, but in reality, it was mostly just walking. The Wilds spanned a massive area, with the human settlements occupying a very small portion of it. Navigating them was not a skill that was often talked about, but that didn¡¯t make it any less important. ¡°Where to next?¡± Silvia asked, smoothing out the fletchings of her arrows. Nemir pulled out his adventurers'' medallion, glancing at the small arrow at its center that pointed at the city¡¯s lodestone. After a moment of studying the makeshift compass, he pointed in a direction. ¡°That way. But we¡¯ve got at least another hour before we get there.¡± He tucked the medallion back into his shirt. ¡°Let¡¯s take a short break. Eat, drink, and then we head out.¡± The team nodded, taking out their rations and settling in. Summoning another beast pellet, Rowan fed it to Kai, scratching under his chin. ¡°Keep a watch out, okay?¡± With a happy trill, his familiar swallowed the treat and flew up, circling them from above. Nemir sat down on a fallen log, uncorking his waterskin. ¡°You know,¡± he began casually, wiping his mouth, ¡°the goblin pack might be bigger than we initially thought. It¡¯s been on the board for more than a week.¡± Omi looked up, snacking on a piece of tough looking meat. ¡°What does that mean? The pay¡¯s good. It seems weird that no one took it before us.¡± Nemir shrugged, taking another swig. ¡°Someone did. A Silver-rank by the name of Killian, the leader of the Steel Fist. A nasty group of adventurers if there ever was one,¡± he shook his head. ¡°They just didn¡¯t complete it.¡± Rowan furrowed his brows. ¡°A Silver-rank? Why would they leave it unfinished?¡± Silvia, who was sharpening one of her arrows, glanced over. ¡°Probably too lazy.¡± Nemir chuckled, shaking his head. ¡°I doubt that. Killian and his crew are capable, but word is they like to leave quests unfinished and then swoop in once someone else turns them in. Try and get a few extra coins for the trouble.¡± Annie groaned. ¡°Great. I¡¯m sure stealing a quest from a Silver-rank isn¡¯t going to bite us in the ass.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not stealing,¡± Nemir said calmly. ¡°The Adventurer¡¯s Guild has authority on quest giving, not individual teams.¡± While that was true, that authority didn¡¯t extend out into the Wilds. It wouldn¡¯t have been the first time that two teams had a dispute and one mysteriously vanished the next time they left the protection of the city¡¯s walls. Rowan frowned, processing the information. He hadn¡¯t heard of Killian before, or his team. Silver-ranks weren¡¯t common in Litwick, but that only meant there were dozens of them, not the hundreds or even thousands like in some of the bigger cities. Yet the thought of someone of that rank resorting to something so¡­ low, gnawed at him. Omi snorted, absentmindedly twirling his daggers. ¡°And we¡¯re just planning to let him take our hard earned gold?¡± Annie smirked. ¡°They can certainly try.¡± ¡°If things go sideways, we can just have Jamis blow him up,¡± Saliva piped in. ¡°You¡¯re awfully quick to throw me into a fight against a Silver-rank,¡± Rowan snorted. ¡°But I appreciate the vote of confidence.¡± ¡°What? I¡¯m just looking out for you,¡± she shrugged. ¡°Besides, it might do you some good. Let you blow off some steam.¡± Rowan tried to suppress a wince. It seemed Annie wasn¡¯t the only one who he¡¯d been acting off. ¡°Nobody is blowing anyone up,¡± Nemir said, his expression serious. ¡°We all know something ugly is brewing. The city needs all the manpower it can get. Crooked adventures included,¡± he stood up, running a hand through his hair. ¡°This is the eight goblin pack sighted in the last month. And if there¡¯s really a tribe nearby¡­¡± He trailed off, not needing to state the obvious. Goblins might seem like pests, and in small numbers, that was exactly what they were. But they were still among the few enlightened races. No one really compared them to humans or elves, and if a dwarf heard you suggesting anything similar, you¡¯d get an axe through the head. Yet underestimating them was never a good idea. ¡°It¡¯s still just rumors. But with the way the wind is blowing¡­¡± Annie sighed. ¡°Let¡¯s just focus on completing our mission and getting home alive,¡± she stood up. ¡°So enough sitting around, time to get moving.¡± The rest of the team followed suit, checking over their weapons one final time before continuing deeper into the Wilds. . . . Over the next hour, they sidestepped three Stalker burrows, a Razowing Hawk¡¯s nest, and a sleeping Moss Giant. The team was silent for the most part, with only the occasional comment pointing out potential threats. Kai proved useful on more than one occasion. But as the canopy grew thicker, it became dangerous to have him far away from the rest of them. So his familiar spent the rest of the walk on Silvia¡¯s shoulder. The landscape grew rougher as they pressed deeper into the forests¡ªjagged rocks jutting out of the ground, wild underbrush snagging at their clothes. Each step taking them further from civilization. Rowan forced himself to focus. His eyes roamed their surroundings, searching for any signs of danger, the air around them thick with anticipation. Nemir suddenly raised a hand, signaling for them to stop. They were just about to enter a clearing, a distant cave nestled between two rocky outcroppings. ¡°There,¡± he whispered, crouching behind a boulder. The rest of the team joined him, ducking behind cover as they observed the goblin den from a distance. The cave entrance was wide, with jagged rocks framing the opening like the jaws of some terrible beast. Four goblins were standing outside, the crude weapons and makeshift clothes a sharp contrast to their own gear. ¡°Anyone have a count?¡± Annie whispered, her eyes narrowing as she observed their goal. ¡°It¡¯s too dark,¡± Silvia replied, her [Eagle Sight] skill active. Omi unsheathed his daggers, his eyes glinting with anticipation. ¡°We¡¯ll need to take out the sentries before moving in.¡± ¡°Think you can manage it?¡± Rowan asked. They needed to move quickly and quietly if they wanted to avoid alerting the entire pack. Strike them before they realized what was going on. His fingers twitched, more than ready to start. Omi nodded. ¡°I can easily take two without making any noise. But they¡¯re spread out. Sil¡¯s going to need to help out.¡± Annie glanced at the group, unslinging her spear. ¡°Then that¡¯s what we¡¯ll do. We take out the sentries. No noise, no fuss. Once we¡¯re in, we stick together. Jamis and Sil at the back, the rest of us up front.¡± The team nodded, but Rowan hesitated. There was something wrong here. Something that made the hairs on his neck stand up. He focused on the cave entrance, taking it in, letting his mind soak in the details. The walls were too uniform. Too straight. Almost as if someone had¡­ Just as Omi was about to head out, Rowan¡¯s hand shot out, gripping his wrist. A smile tugged at his lips. One that was equal parts excited, and nervous. There was no way this cave formed naturally. But if that was true, that could mean only one thing. ¡°What?¡± Omi frowned, pulling his hand away. Rowan looked around at the rest of the team, his eagerness almost palpable as he whispered. ¡°There¡¯s a shaman in there.¡± 5 - Guards At The Post ¡°A shaman?¡± Annie frowned. ¡°Are you sure?¡± The rest of the Grove seemed taken aback, their eyes widening in alarm and hands tightening around their weapons. But Rowan didn¡¯t notice. His gaze stayed fixed on the cave, a flutter of exhilaration in his chest. ¡°Positive,¡± he nodded firmly. ¡°See those spikes near the entrance?¡± Annie squinted, trying to follow his gaze. ¡°Yeah? What about them? They just look like rocks to me.¡± Rowan¡¯s heartbeat quickened, and he shook his head. ¡°That¡¯s the idea¡ªthey¡¯re meant to look like that. But spikes like that don¡¯t form naturally,¡± he shot a glance at his team. ¡°And you can¡¯t exactly shape stone with a shovel.¡° ¡°Eldara¡¯s tits,¡± Omi cursed, his face darkening. ¡°What do we do now? Should we retreat?¡± Retreat? Now? Rowan blinked. Is he joking? He felt irritation flare in his chest, cutting through the thrill starting to course through his veins. ¡°Why would we do that?¡± His fingers twitched. ¡°These goblins won¡¯t just go away. Especially if they have a shaman leading them. In a week¡¯s time, there could be a dozen packs here.¡± This was what he¡¯d been craving¡ªa fight against a real opponent, something that could push him to the edge and beyond. Monsters were well and good, but dueling a mage was a different beast entirely. Nemir¡¯s voice broke through his thoughts. ¡°Because if you¡¯re right, this quest just got a hell of a lot more dangerous,¡± he said, his brows furrowed in thought. ¡°Not to mention lucrative,¡± Annie added. Rowan glanced at the group, taking in the way their expressions shifted between nervousness and resolve. He knew why they were cautious, and he understood it. He even respected it. For them, this was a risk. Without an Aura, fighting against a mage was tantamount to suicide with a few more steps thrown into the mix. But for Rowan, this was a necessary step forward. He needed to see what his magic could really do when pushed against something that could effectively fight back. Even if it meant taking a risk. ¡°I¡¯m confident I can take on anything inside that cave,¡± Rowan said, his voice steady. He tried to temper his tone, but his desire to fight edged his words. Omi snorted. ¡°With the way you¡¯ve been acting today, I¡¯d bet you¡¯d say the same thing if we ran into a dragon.¡± Rowan winced. ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± he nodded, acknowledging the point. His eagerness to fight often got the better of him, but his confidence wasn¡¯t misplaced. Whatever was in that cave, Rowan knew he could take it. Taking a breath, he softened his approach. ¡°I¡¯m not just being cocky. If we can sneak inside, I¡¯ll be able to deal with most of them before the fight even starts.¡± ¡°And how exactly do you plan on doing that?¡± Annie asked, a hint of skepticism lacing her tone. ¡°We have no idea how many of them there are,¡± she pointed out. ¡°For all we know, there could be hundreds.¡± He shook his head. ¡°There aren¡¯t.¡± ¡°What, you see through walls now?¡± Rowan glanced over the boulder, pointing at the goblins guarding the entrance. ¡°No, I can¡¯t. But if there were hundreds of them, would they only have four scouts guarding their camp?¡± Nemir frowned, mulling it over. ¡°He¡¯s right,¡± he said after a moment. ¡°But you still haven¡¯t told us how you plan to deal with them.¡± Silvia snorted. ¡°Let me guess, you¡¯re gonna blow them up?¡± Rowan grinned. ¡°Exactly.¡± ¡°Not that I doubt your capabilities, but a [Firebolt] isn¡¯t anywhere near strong enough to take out more than a few of them,¡± Annie said, crossing her arms. ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± he conceded. ¡°But a [Fireball] might.¡± A sharp silence followed his revelation. He could feel their gazes on him, a mix of shock and awe mingling with uncertainty. Rowan held his breath, feeling a strange nervousness envelop him. Annie broke it first. ¡°Since when can you cast a Chant?¡± she asked, her brows furrowed. The truth was, he couldn¡¯t. Not really. Rowan had memorized the magic circuit for [Fireball], and he had the mana to cast it half a dozen times over. But raw mana wasn¡¯t enough to master a spell. If it were, there¡¯d be Archamges in every village. He could always just lie. They weren¡¯t mages. They had no way of knowing the difference between a fully mastered spell and one he was still learning. His desire to test his limits almost made him consider it. Almost. As much as he wanted this fight, he wouldn¡¯t lie to them to get it. If they were going to do this, it would be as a team. He met their gazes and answered honestly. ¡°I can¡¯t. Not really.¡± Omi snorted. ¡°Then what are we even¡ª¡± Rowan held up a hand. ¡°I can still cast it. It just won¡¯t be as powerful as a full Chant,¡± he sighed, a flicker of frustration in his voice. ¡°My Intent is¡­ well, it¡¯s still a bit rough, and it takes me half a minute to finish the circuit. I won¡¯t be doing it in the middle of a fight, but¡­¡± he paused, looking each of them in the eye.¡± If we can get close enough without them noticing, and I manage to get a cast off, we¡¯ll start the fight with a huge advantage.¡± ¡°That¡¯s a lot of ifs and buts and maybes,¡± Omi muttered, but his expression was thoughtful. It wasn¡¯t a yes, but Rowan could work with that.The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. He could see the gears turning in their heads. Annie¡¯s grip on her spear tightened, her jaw setting with determination. Nemir¡¯s frown deepened as he weighed the risks. Even Silvia, as relaxed as ever, shifted her weight, her expression thoughtful. ¡°It¡¯s a big risk,¡± Omi said after a moment, twirling his daggers absentmindedly. ¡°We don¡¯t know the layout, or their numbers. The smart move would be to go back to the Guild. Tell them to up the quest to Silver and have another team deal with it.¡± Nemir nodded slowly. ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± he murmured. ¡°But who knows how big this threat will get by the time they send someone else to deal with it. We have a chance to nip it in the bud,¡± he glanced at the cavern in the distance. ¡°Let¡¯s put it to a vote.¡± Annie and Rowan¡¯s hands shot up without hesitation, soon joined by Silvia¡¯s. Nemir raised his a moment later, and Rowan felt the thrill building again, his heart pounding as his gaze moved to Omi. Rowan could almost see the flicker of hesitation in the rogue¡¯s eye¡ªnot fear, he knew, but caution. After a long moment, Omi sighed. ¡°Alright, alright. I¡¯m not gonna be the reason we head back,¡± he grumbled. ¡°Let¡¯s go kill some goblins.¡± Rowan¡¯s grin widened, the thrill of the upcoming battle finding purchase once more. . . . Omi crept through the underbrush, his eyes locked on the foes ahead. The four goblins were oblivious to his presence, his [Silent Step] skill combining with [Shadow Veil] to create a haze their perceptions couldn¡¯t cut through. This is going to be a shitshow. Jamis had always been a bit of a wild card. And in a sense, Omi understood why that was. Being capable of smiting your enemies from existence while standing on the other side of the battlefield had a way of going to your head. It was the same problem Sil had, only magnified tenfold. It was why they were willing to take stupid risks like this one. They wouldn¡¯t be the ones at the front, holding off a horde of goblins. Seeing their wrinkled skin up close, smelling their rancid scent, feeling the swords whistling by their ears. Not that Omi minded all that much. It was a heady feeling, being in the thick of it. But he wouldn¡¯t tell him that. If the others knew how much he actually enjoyed it, he wouldn¡¯t be able to complain nearly as much. As he moved closer to the cave entrance, hugging the stone walls to remain unseen, he quickly scanned the goblins guarding it.
Level: 5
Body: Bronze V
Core: N/A
Level: 4
Body: Bronze IV
Core: N/A
Level: 4
Body: Bronze IV
Core: N/A
Level: 3
Body: Bronze III
Core: N/A
Their levels smoothed out some of the concern he felt about the upcoming fight. He knew that if there was a shaman in there, their opponents wouldn¡¯t just be fodder. But these four right here were nothing more than lambs waiting for the slaughter. As he got close enough to hear them talking to each other in that guttural tongue of theirs, Omi pulled up his status, trying to decide how to go about this. For Jamis¡¯s plan to work, he needed to take them out in one fell swoop. Before they could so much as utter a single word.
Name: Omitar Kalis
Body: Iron IV [13 Levels]
Core: N/A
Level: 13
Strength: 19
Dexterity: 35
Vitality: 26
Intelligence: 2
Willpower: 1
Focus: 13
The two Intelligence was always an eyesore, but it had nothing to do with how smart he actually was. On the bright side, it was one higher than Sil¡¯s, so he took it as a win.
Skills: Dagger Mastery [Proficient], Quick Hands [Proficient], Silent Steps [Adept], Shadow Veil [Adept], Vital Strike [Adept], Quick Reflexes [Adept], Acrobatics [Adept], Sense Danger [Novice]
His [Sense Danger] stayed quiet as he took out his daggers, watching the unassuming goblins as they lazily observed the treeline. The blades, made of darkened steel, absorbed the sunlight that threatened to reveal his position. They were by far the most expensive thing he¡¯d ever owned, but they were more than worth the price. Taking a deep breath, Omi stilled his nerves and moved. Both [Silent Steps] and [Shadow Veil] dropped as he made use of every single point of dexterity he had. His body was a blur as he struck one goblin through the back of the neck, severing his spine. The one next to it started turning its head. But before it could, Omi was already there, his second dagger buried in its skull. He stood there among two corpses as they fell to the ground, his eyes focused on the last two goblins guarding the entrance. They were on the other side of it, too far away for him to get there before they raised an alarm. But Omi didn¡¯t panic. He wasn¡¯t alone here. As their beady eyes found him, their mouths opening¡ªreadying to alert whoever was inside¡ªtwo arrows flew from the tree line. The first hit one through its open mouth, pinning the monster against the wall. The force behind the shot enough to embed the arrows into the stone. It let out a wet gurgle as its body shook, its clawed hands grasping the shaft in a desperate attempt to free itself. The other was slightly off its mark, but it still did its job. The arrow pierced through the goblin''s throat, crushing its windpipe and smothering the scream that threatened to end their quest before it even began. The fight¡ªif one could even call it that¡ªlasted barely two seconds. Omi flicked his wrists, the blood that covered his daggers splattering against the ground. He sheathed them, waiting for the other to move out of cover. Nemir exited first. The mountain of a man all muscle and righteousness, carrying that hulking greatsword of his. Annie followed after him, with Jamis and Silvia taking the rear. As they got close, he felt his excitement slowly overtake his caution. This was happening. They were going into this cave and decimating whatever pest called it their home. Omi¡¯s gaze drifted to Jamis. The mage stood slightly apart, a noticeable tension in his stance, his fingers tapping absently as if tracing some unseen spell. Jamis was a mystery, in more ways than one. He was faster than he had any right to be. Omi had seen the way he moved during fights, and if had to venture a guess, his Dexterity wasn¡¯t much lower than his own. Something that shouldn¡¯t have been possible with him being a mage and half his level. But it didn¡¯t stop there. He¡¯d seen his hunger for advancement firsthand. The way he threw himself into every battle with a fury that only came when something pushed you towards it. So why is he still just a Red-Core mage? From what little Omi knew of magic¡ªwith most of his knowledge coming from the stories his mother had read to him when he was a kid¡ªadvancing a Core to Orange was just a matter of time spent working towards it. Yellow was the true bottleneck. It was the stage where a mage needed to combine his two tier-one affinities into a single tier-two. Jamis was around his age. Twenty or so. So even if he¡¯d Awakened later than most¡ªat fourteen, or even fifteen¡ªthat still gave him five years to advance. And the fact he hadn¡¯t was¡­ curious, to say the least. It wasn¡¯t that Omi didn¡¯t trust him, because he did. Jamis had saved their asses more than once. But that didn¡¯t mean he wasn¡¯t curious. The mage carried himself¡­ well, like a mage. Not like the hunters, adventurers, and the scrappy underdogs of a backwater settlement. It was clear that wherever he¡¯d come from, it hadn¡¯t been a place like Litwick. No, his poise, the way he expected things to fall into place for him, it spoke of places with towers. Where nobles wore their power like finely tailored cloaks. Why was someone like him out here, in the middle of nowhere, running around with a ragtag group through a cave full of goblins? Jamis hadn¡¯t shared much about his past¡ªnever really talked about his family, his time before this, or how he¡¯d ended up here. Even after their missions, when they were a few cups in and relaxed, he seemed reluctant to actually open up. Omi was certain there was a story there. But it wasn¡¯t one he was going to pry at. He shuddered. That¡¯s how you get your skin melted off.. Jamis could keep his secrets. At least until he decided to share them. As the team got closer, Omi pushed those thoughts away. Now wasn¡¯t the time to chase ghosts. There was a den of goblins to deal with, and right now, he was glad to have someone like him on their side. 6 - Down Under The chittering of goblins reached their ears as they entered the cave. That guttural language of theirs echoing against the cavern walls. Omi took the front, his skills best suited for infiltration and stealth. ¡°This cave is bigger than I thought it¡¯d be,¡± he whispered, looking around at the wide corridor as they traveled through them. ¡°It¡¯s how they hide,¡± Rowan answered, keeping his voice quiet. ¡°Goblins aren¡¯t the strongest, or the fastest, or the smartest monsters around. But they¡¯re among the few that have actual casters. So when a pack has a shaman, they make use of him.¡± ¡°Stop yammering, you two,¡± Annie chastised them, firmly gripping her spear. ¡°If they hear us, that brilliant plan of yours goes straight out the window.¡± Kai let out a soft, admonishing trill, holding onto Sil¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Traitor,¡± Rowan muttered under his breath. They continued deeper into the cave, the light from the entrance slowly being replaced by the soft blue glow of the mushrooms growing on the walls. It was eerie, in a strange sort of way. Knowing that with every step they took, they were heading away from the relative safety of the open air, exchanging it for the uncertainty of the underground. But it wasn¡¯t like they had a choice. Waiting for the goblins to leave their dwelling wasn¡¯t something they could do. Taking them out one by one sounded good, but spending the night in the Wilds just might have been more dangerous than whatever lay further in. Omi suddenly halted his steps, raising a hand. ¡°Two guards, both Iron I,¡± he whispered. Rowan tried to glance over Nemir¡¯s shoulders, but the mountain of a man blocked his view. His heart started beating faster, his finger twitching, eager to cast. But he forced the excitement down. Fire magic wasn¡¯t exactly subtle¡ªespecially in a dark cave¡ªand they needed the element of surprise for the plan to work. Not really much of a plan, Rowan thought. ¡®Get close and blow them up¡¯ is as simple as it gets. But it¡¯s effective, so why try and fix it? ¡°Can you take both of them out quietly?¡± Annie asked, narrowing her eyes in an attempt to see through the darkness. Rowan didn¡¯t hear Omi¡¯s reply, but a few short seconds later, he heard two stifled gasps in quick succession, followed by the telltale sound of bodies hitting the ground. Guess that answers that. They continued further in, keeping their steps quiet and weapons ready. Less than a minute of walking later, they reached a small cavern with three branches to choose from. ¡°What now?¡± Omi muttered. Rowan stepped to the front, kneeling down and observing the ground. Trying to find any evidence of movement. He found what he was looking for in front of all three, and he couldn¡¯t help but smile. ¡°Well, that makes things easy,¡± he said after a moment. ¡°I don¡¯t think it matters which one we choose. If I¡¯m right, all three are going to lead to a central chamber. But we should try to figure out which path they use the least.¡± Silvia took it from there, her eyes sweeping over the cavern floor, focused and intense. It took her a minute, the dim lighting making the task harder than it normally would have been. But like everyone else in the team, Sil was skilled at what she did. She nodded to herself. ¡°The one to the right.¡± No one questioned it, and before they knew it, the chittering of goblins once again reached their ears. Only this time, it wasn¡¯t just two of them, but a whole pack. Rowan''s hands clenched at his side, his shoulders tensing in anticipation. This was it. The moment of truth. If no one saw them in the next minute, they had a real shot at finishing the quest with ease. There was still the shaman to deal with, but that was a problem for after he fireballed half the pack out of existence. Slowly, carefully, the team reached the end of the cave, and the sight that greeted them wasn¡¯t encouraging. ¡°Eldric¡¯s grace,¡± Nemir whispered, his grip instinctually tightening around the hilt of his sword. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ a lot of goblins.¡± The cavern was massive. Larger than the Guild Hall by half. Stretching out before them and sprawling far wider than they¡¯d anticipated. Flickering firelight from scattered pits cast wandering shadows on the walls, revealing a grim, makeshift settlement. Dozens of goblins milled around in a chaotic swarm, their rusted weapons and threadbare armor clinking as they moved between the ragged tents and smoldering cook fires. From just a glance, Rowan saw at least four or five dozen. Clustered in groups around the fires. Perfect.
Level: 9
Body: Iron II [9 Levels]
Core: N/A
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Level: 11
Body: Iron III [11 Levels]
Core: N/A
Level: 13
Body: Iron IV [13 Levels]
Core: N/A
Level: 7
Body: Iron I [7 Levels]
Core: N/A
Most of them were low Iron, but there were more than a few at Iron IV or V. Rowan took a moment to observe before pulling back behind cover. He¡¯d seen what he needed to. The air was thick with the acrid scent of poorly cured hides, charred meat, and damp earth, a nauseating blend that seemed to hang in the air like a haze. Ramshackle huts made of twisted branches, stretched leathers, and scraps scavenged from who-knows-where dotted the cavern floor, forming a crude goblin village. The tents were squat and narrow, haphazardly clustered together. To the left of the main encampment, Rowan spotted a larger, well-kept dwelling that set itself apart from the others. Unlike the rest, it wasn¡¯t hastily patched together but was adorned with bones and painted symbols that announced their tribe. Rowan had spent a large amount of his youth neck deep in books. His tutors had been some of the greatest scholars the Kingdom of Vandral had to offer, and they had made sure he¡¯d be ready for his Awakening. What a waste of time that must have seemed, he thought ruefully. When he failed to Awaken, that knowledge had seemed so worthless. What use would knowing the various goblins tribes have for him? Or knowing how to track a monster through a forest? But now, Rowan was grateful for every minute they spent with him. Not that it would have been hard to guess, he thought, glancing at the tent. The crest was a fang painted in with blood. And so, with the originality of a newborn moss-fly, the tribe called themselves the Red Fangs. From what Rowan knew, they were a mid-sized tribe originating from the Spiral Range. A series of mountain peaks connected by wind-currents. They weren¡¯t a large-scale threat in the grand scheme of things, but if they were settling here, it might prove dangerous for a city as small as Litwick. That¡¯s two regions over, Rowan frowned. Their migration must have started months ago. He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. Focus. That information isn¡¯t going to be useful if we die. Rowan tapped Nemir on the shoulder, gesturing for him to stand in front. The man was as wide as a barn door, so he was perfect for the job. Annie¡¯s hand found his shoulder, squeezing it firmly. ¡°Ready when you are,¡± she whispered, her gaze intent as she took in the threat before them. ¡°And knock that smile off your face. It¡¯s creepy,¡± she muttered under her breath, her voice barely audible, but he could hear the thrill in her tone. The same one Rowan felt. He barely suppressed a grin. ¡°Alright, give me half a minute.¡± He stood back, moving slightly away from the entrance. Standing in the open and casting would have been like lighting a beacon, the dim lighting of the cavern the perfect backdrop to announce their presence. Which would have definitely looked good, but visuals weren¡¯t what they were going for. The rest of the Grove positioned themselves in front of him, already knowing what he needed from them. It was in moments like these that he found himself grateful that he found a team as capable as this. And it was especially gratifying when facing a threat as large as this. During his quick glance at the village, Rowan had paid special attention to how the goblins were grouped up. But they were walking around, changing positions. He wouldn¡¯t have a lot of time to choose his target, which was incredibly important given the spell he was going to cast. Hopefully, some of them are still in the same place. The team exchanged looks, silent but tense. Rowan¡¯s fingers itched with anticipation as he closed his eyes. His mind raced, ready to get this fight started. Nemir¡¯s grip tightened on his sword, his eyes flickering between the masses beyond the entrance and the quiet, shadowed path behind them. ¡°When you¡¯re ready, Jamis.¡± Rowan nodded, focusing on his Core. Feeling the mana churning within it. Chant-level spells were a massive jump in complexity compared to Murmur¡¯s. Not only was the circuit much longer, but he needed to manipulate multiple strands of mana at the same time. No point in delaying. He started casting. Mana erupted from his Core, hot and unwieldy. Rowan clamped his Will around it and sent it swirling through his channels. Following along a familiar path. One strand circled around the left side of his chest, heading down his arm and back up again. While the other did the same, only on his right. The symmetry created a resonance that resulted in a shell forming in the palm of his hand. As it appeared, the darkness of the cave slowly receded, the soft red glow illuminating it like a bonfire. And that starts the countdown, Rowan thought, a determined expression on his face. Then, ever so slowly, the intensity started increasing. Rowan kept his focus on the two strands circulating throughout his body, and with a deep breath, he added another. It was straining, in more ways than one. The amount of mana he was manipulating was tremendous. Most mages spend years honing their skills before trying to master a Chant-level spell. It was a requirement to reach the rank of Acolyte in the Tower¡ªthe authority when it came to mage-craft in the kingdom¡ªwith the second being forming a tier-two affinity. Rowan wasn¡¯t anywhere close to advancing his Core to Peak Orange, let alone Yellow. But there was something to be said about raw talent. Something he had in abundance. The third strand started entering the shell. Filling it with destructive potential. Because that was exactly what mana was. Potential. Boundless and ready to be molded. If one knew how. Rowan waited until it filled the shell to the brim, the glow now intense enough to be seen even from around the bend of the cave. Panicked snarls and the clamoring of feet against dirt answered him. ¡°Alright, get ready!¡± Annie shouted, immediately taking charge now that they¡¯d been noticed. ¡°Sil, do your thing! We hold here until Jamis finishes his spell!¡± ¡°Let¡¯s hope that¡¯s soon,¡± she replied, the twang of her bowstring followed by a pained grunt announcing the start of the battle. ¡°Because I don¡¯t have nearly enough arrows for all of them.¡± Rowan refocused on the task at hand, pushing away everything else in favor of the rapidly forming [Fireball] in his hand. As more mana poured into the shell¡ªstraining against it, trying to expand beyond its means¡ªhe increased the speed at which the two threads circulated through his channels. Strengthening it. Giving it the power it needed to hold. Everything else faded away. Leaving nothing but the euphoria that came with doing something you were always meant to do, and doing it well. Magic was in Rowan¡¯s blood. His lineage was longer than most people knew, and each member of his family was a peerless spellcaster. He was the son of two Archamges, and the grandson of four more. Casting was his birthright, and he intended to make use of it. To him, magic felt like conducting an orchestra. Every movement, every adjustment, every single flick of his Will building up to something magnificent. All of the parts moving in perfect unison under his command. Rowan gritted his teeth, sweat dripping from his brow as he moved ever closer to that balance he was seeking. The strength of his shell contesting against the density of the mana inside it. When he finally reached it, the radiant orb of burning flame held in his hand teetering on the edge of combustion. Then came the hard part. Imbuing his Intent. With a deep, calming breath, Rowan got to work. ¡°They¡¯re halfway here!¡± Annie shouted, but he paid it no mind. Rowan focused on the raw, consuming force of fire and the disciplined control that kept it contained. It wasn¡¯t just the destructive aspect that made the spell work, but the gathering of power without allowing it to spill over¡ªa dance between chaos and order. He needed a single, cohesive sphere of flame. ¡°Balance,¡± he whispered, ¡°Sealed Flame.¡± His Intent burst to life. Giving the spell the last push it needed to manifest. It was crude, and needed more than a bit of work. But it did work. And right now, that was all that mattered. Rowan didn¡¯t waste any time. His eyes opened as he took a hasty step forward, moving around Nemir¡¯s bulky form. He might have been able to cast a Chant, but that didn¡¯t mean he could hold it for long. ¡°Get ready!¡± he shouted as he rounded the corner, coming face to face with four dozen angry goblins rushing towards them. Their rusty weapons and manic expressions, combined with their sheer number would have normally left him feeling fearful, hesitant¡ªbut with the power he held in the palm of his hand, the only emotion Rowan felt was glee. With a grin on his face, he flicked his wrist and sent the spell flying. 7 - The Wait As the thrill pumped through his veins at full force, Rowan decided on his target. Out of the four dozen goblins rushing towards them, the first three dozen were garbed in basic hides, their weapons an assortment of rusted daggers and sharpened bones. They were the most clustered, and for a moment, Rowan thought about sending the spell their way. It would result in the greatest number of deaths, but that wasn¡¯t the goal. The goal was to win. And to survive. Bronze-ranked monsters weren¡¯t going to be a problem for the Grove. They could kill them in droves. It was the real threats he needed to take out. Fights in the Wilds were mostly decided by who had the strongest person on the field. A team of Iron-ranked adventurers could decimate a horde of Bronze-ranked monsters. The leap in strength one got from advancing granting them a significant boost in power. So his gaze turned to the dozen or so in the back. Unlike the ones in the front, these goblins were less animalistic. Less feral. They stood on both feet with crude but deadly looking weapons in their hands. Swords and spears made of finely polished bone, with thinly wound sinew adorning their handles. Rowan raised his arm towards the group, releasing his spell. The orb of flame erupted from his hand, searing through the air with frightening speed, taking a tenth of his mana along with it. It was a magnificent working of magic. The shell contained a massive amount of mana in an orb small enough to fit in the palm of his hand. The goblins snarled in panic. Frantically throwing themselves out of the way, trying to dodge. It sailed over the first group, leaving them confused, and for the moment, defenseless. Annie surged forward, her spear a blur as she beheaded the closest one. The rest of the Grove wasn¡¯t far behind, Nemir and Omi joining the fight alongside her. With a [Roar], the swordsman carved through another three goblins. Strangled screams and the smell of guts wafting through the air. Omi took out another two with practiced ease, his daggers barely visible in the low light. The [Fireball] finally reached its target, a grouping of Iron-ranked goblins. Rowan was surprised with how far they managed to disperse, but it wasn¡¯t going to do them much good. ¡°Eyes!¡± Rowan shouted, looking away as his spell impacted the ground. The team took a coordinated step back, shielding their eyes from the massive explosion that rocked the cavern. A blast of fire large enough to engulf a house wiped out a good chunk of them in the initial blast, the rest being scorched by the heat. Rowan tried to steady his shaking hands, the sheer scope of his working mesmerizing. When he looked back, he could see the team glancing at him with startled expressions. For a moment, Omi almost looked frightened, but then that familiar grin split his face. ¡°Morrigan take me,¡± Nemir muttered, a determined gleam in his eye. ¡°I¡¯m glad it wasn¡¯t just a boast,¡± he laughed, already moving again. His sword carving through another grouping of goblins. The monsters snarled in rage and indignation. Someone had attacked their pack, and they were going to take that lying down. They ran on all fours, their clawed appendages digging into the hard earth with ease. One leaped at Omi, his daggers managing to deflect the first two strikes, but the third one aimed at his leg almost managed to land. Annie¡¯s spear took it through the throat, keeping the pressure off the rogue long enough for him to dodge his way to the edge of the battle, away from the group. The dim light of the cavern a perfect backdrop for his talents. Kai swooped down to rake his claws across a goblin''s throat, Sil¡¯s arrow piercing it a moment later. ¡°Sorry!¡± she shouted, already aiming at another one. His familiar trilled, flying back up. ¡°Yeah, yeah, you can count it!¡± she shouted back, turning her bow sideways and firing three arrows simultaneously, each one finding its mark. Rowan noticed he couldn¡¯t find Omi and he got ready, knowing he¡¯d need to move soon. The rogue had slipped out of sight. That meant his skills were active. He would work his way in, dividing their opponents'' attention long enough for the main group to rush at their back. It was a simple tactic, and it wouldn¡¯t have worked against smarter opponents. But these goblins were little more than animals. When he reappeared, shredding through their numbers with furious intensity, the whole group turned as one. Their instincts sensing a greater threat. The Iron-ranks wouldn¡¯t have done that, but that was why Rowan had taken them out at the start. Nemir, Annie, and Silvia activated their own skills. The two dozen or so goblins left were quickly dealt with. A flurry of powerful swings, quick thrusts, and precise shots decimating their numbers.If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. Rowan didn¡¯t move, looking away from the carnage and further into the camp. He wanted nothing more than to start throwing spell after spell at their foes, but he had another task. His muscles were coiled tightly in anticipation, ready, and more than willing to move. There was a shaman here, he was sure of that, and he needed to take it out sooner rather than later. He¡¯d been taught never to underestimate an enemy, and right now that meant assuming that the opposing mage was capable of casting something on the level of a [Fireball]. Rowan¡¯s eyes locked on the largest tent in the makeshift village, his body snapping into motion. The fight hadn¡¯t been going on for long, but if he assumed his opponent was capable, he¡¯d started casting the moment he realized there was a threat. And if he could truly cast a Chant-level spell, then right now was the most dangerous part of the fight. The magic circuit for [Burning Whip] flared to life, coursing through his channels and erupting out his back. Rowan didn¡¯t stop there, and another one soon joined it, with a third already on its way. He wasn¡¯t able to hold three manifestations for long, but he didn¡¯t need to. His Dexterity was twenty-five, and that wasn¡¯t just for show. Rowan reached the tent and cracked all three whips at the same time, shredding through the leather and leaving smoldering chunks in his wake. If the shaman was inside, Rowan had just ended the threat before it appeared. He grunted as the third whip dissipated, the strand of mana slipping out of his control. But his eyes were glued to the burning tent, watching for any signs of life. Come on¡­ Come on¡­ Show yourself. Rowan actually found himself hoping that something had survived. This was supposed to be his first duel against an actual caster, and it would be a shame if it ended like this. He¡¯d fought plenty of monsters with access to some kind of magic, but that was different. He wanted to try his Intent against an actual practitioner of the magical arts. Spell against spell. He knew it was a selfish thought. But even still, Rowan found himself aching for a fight. To achieve his goals, he needed to grow strong. To master himself and perfect his craft. He pulled up his status, his eyes locked on the unearned title.
Name: Rowan Undomniel-Athlain
Title: [Duke of Eiseylth]
Trait: [Immortal Soul]
Core: Red [74%] [5 Levels]
Body: Bronze I [1 Level]
Level: 6
Strength: 14
Dexterity: 25
Vitality: 20
Intelligence: 30
Willpower: 22
Focus: 17
Most days, it hung heavy over his shoulders. It was an obligation. A duty he needed to perform. And he intended on seeing it through. But he wouldn¡¯t be able to do it while cowering. He needed this fight. It was dangerous, and reckless. But discarding safety was the price of walking down his path. So he stood there, every muscle in his body tensed in anticipation. Two tendrils of flame coiled around him, ready to defend against anything thrown his way. To have any chance of finding out the truth, he would need to fight stronger opponents than a mere goblin, no matter how smart. Two tier-four affinities weren¡¯t enough, he thought grimly. I¡¯m going to need something more. I don¡¯t get to be good. Anything less than being the best is a failure. It was the height of arrogance to even think that. There were mages capable of feats Rowan couldn¡¯t even begin to fathom. And he¡¯d seen more than a few up close. But he had something that no one else did. Two things in fact. One was the Vault. A repository for the accumulated wealth of his family. It had everything he would ever need¡ªor want¡ªto grow in strength. The other was his trait. And out of the two, it was more important by far. Rowan still didn¡¯t know exactly what it could do. Channeling mana usually came with a spiritual strain, something he didn¡¯t experience, so that was certainly a part of it. But it had to be more than that. The Soul was a grand concept, and for the System to call his Immortal had massive implications. One¡¯s Rowan hadn¡¯t had the chance to properly look into, or the will to really think through. Figuring out the answer to that question was a priority, but as things stood, Rowan had no way of accomplishing that. Soul-magic was far beyond his capabilities. But he was putting in the effort to change that. Movement from the left caught his eye. Rowan cracked his whip towards it, impacting an earthen wall. One that hadn¡¯t been there a moment before. His grin widened, the thrill reaching a crescendo. A low grunt was all the answer he got, but it was more than enough. The shaman was there. And he was ready for him. Rowan swung his other whip towards the [Earthen Wall], trying to pierce through it, knowing he needed to stay on the offensive. He caught a glimpse of knotted staff and dust-stained robes, the ragged looking goblin visible for barely a second. Just long enough to scan him.
Level: 23
Body: Bronze III [3 Levels]
Core: Orange [20 Levels]
Rowan felt a flicker of hesitation flare to life. His steps faltered, even while the two tendrils battered against his opponent''s spell. Halfway through Orange, he winced. Not ideal. The ten extra levels certainly looked threatening, but Rowan didn¡¯t let that discourage him. This was good. In fact, it was great. The added stats meant his foe most likely had a larger mana pool, and regenerated it quicker. Which while beneficial, wasn¡¯t the deciding factor when it came to mage duels. Skills and mastery were what decided who won. Something Rowan had in abundance. As long as he hasn¡¯t got a tier-two affinity, I¡¯m golden. Higher tier mages were more dangerous simply because they had more time to hone their craft. To learn new spells and get acquainted with using them during a real battle. Rowan was fine when it came to the former, it was the latter that needed work. His [Burning Whip] started burrowing into the wall. Contesting against the shamans imbued Intent. It was proving harder than he¡¯d hoped, the inherent defensive properties of Earth managing to fight against the destructive ones of Fire. As the first one punched through, an angry snarl reached his ears. Rowan¡¯s eyes widened when he saw the wall bulged out. He immediately crouched down, protectively coiling a whip around his body. A [Rock Shot] exploded towards him, the shaman exchanging his defense for a surprise attack. It put Rowan on the back foot, but it opened the shaman up to a counter-attack. Something he was more than willing to exploit. His second [Burning Whip] dropped. Exchanged for a rapidly forming [Firebolt]. The circuit came to him with an instinctual familiarity. Blooming to life as he filled it with an Intent, giving it the push it needed to fully manifest. Piercing Flame. Rowan uncurled the whip just enough to gain line of sight. The shaman''s lip curled up into an ugly sneer, its sharp fangs gleaming in the dim light of the cavern. When mages fought, a single spell was enough to decide a winner. Every second mattered. Every exchange a dance where a misstep resulted in death. And both of them knew it. The failed [Rock Shot] didn¡¯t dissuade his opponent. His staff was already pointed at Rowan, a vortex of Wind swirling at the tip. Seeing that, the last of his hesitation subsided. If it had been Water, Rowan might have been in trouble. But Wind? Wind he could deal with. They both released their spells. The duel had officially started, and Rowan planned on mopping the floor with his opponent. 8 - Unexpected Showing Annie¡¯s grip tightened as she sent out a [Sweeping Strike]. Her spear blurred as the skill activated, cutting through a goblin''s arm and embedding itself into another''s side. She yanked her arms back. Blood and guts spilled from the monster, a death rattle leaving its throat. It tried to claw at the wound, hopelessly holding its innards in place before the light slowly faded from its eyes. Nemir cleaved through another pair, his massive greatsword bisecting their bodies. Omi was back with the team now. Exchanging his stealth for a brutal upfront assault. His hands moving so fast she could barely make them out. She fixed her gaze on what remained of the pack, the half dozen Iron-rank threats still trying to get their bearings from the explosion. Scorched and wounded. Annie still couldn¡¯t believe how powerful Jamis¡¯s spell had been. Just two more levels, she reminded herself. Then I ignite my own Core. Her grip tightened around the shaft of her spear, an excited glint in her eyes. It had been a risk to go for it so early in her path, but if that was the result, it seemed like the right choice.
Name: Anneliese Kiro
Body: Iron III [11 Levels]
Core: N/A
Level: 11
Strength: 12
Dexterity: 25
Vitality: 22
Intelligence: 7
Willpower: 3
Focus: 12
To ignite her Core, she needed both Intelligence and Willpower to be over ten. And while that didn¡¯t seem like a lot, those twenty stats made all the difference. Especially at a lower level. While people like Jamis had the distinct advantage of being born with both those attributes already past that threshold, others needed to work for it. It wasn¡¯t fair, but life rarely was. She glanced over in his direction for what had to have been the tenth time. He was fighting the shaman with an infuriating grin on his face, his steely gray eyes shining with a fierce intensity, most likely reveling in the fact he could finally let loose. Stones whistled through the air faster than she could follow, and his whips deflected them with what appeared to be barely any effort. The fight was a sight to behold, and she found herself distracted as she battled her own foes. They dealt with the Bronze-ranked monsters, and that only left the Iron-ranked goblins. The [Fireball] had left them scorched and bruised, but they were still more than capable of putting up a fight. Silvia shot an arrow at the closest one, and it deflected it with a grunted snarl. Its spear of hardened bone sending the arrow flying to the side. It tried to deflect the one that followed, but it couldn¡¯t quite manage it. The arrow took it in the shoulder, piercing through flesh and bone and exiting on the other side. The goblin shrieked in agony, dropping its weapon and clutching at the wound. Trying to hold its arm in place, blood pooling through its fingers. ¡°Let them come to us!¡± she shouted, stepping in rank next to Nemir. There wasn¡¯t a point in rushing. They just took out three dozen goblins, and taking a few seconds to breathe would do them some good. Omi appeared next to her, panting slightly and wiping blood from his brow. Wincing from the wound on his arm. ¡°You okay?¡± she asked, ready to pull out a potion. He waved her off. ¡°Yeah, yeah, I¡¯m fine. It¡¯s just a scratch. The fight¡¯s already over, anyway.¡± ¡°I wouldn¡¯t be so sure,¡± Nemir muttered, gesturing towards the side where the cavern floor was coming alive as it battled against Jamis¡¯s flames. ¡°You really enjoy tempting fate, don¡¯t you?¡± Silvia said, poking Omi in the side. ¡°What happens if he loses, huh? Stop trying to be macho and drink the damn potion.¡± ¡°Nemir prays to Eldric. It evens out,¡± Omi grumbled. Annie snorted, handing the vial to the rogue. He gulped it down, the cut on his arm slowly knitting back together. ¡°If he does start to lose, do we¡­?¡± Silvia trailed off, looking unsure. ¡°No way,¡± Omi shook his head. ¡°We do not get close to that death trap. None of us have an Aura, and getting in the middle of a mage duel is suicide. Plain and simple.¡± ¡°He¡¯ll win,¡± Nemir said firmly, no doubt in his voice. ¡°Jamis fights like an apprentice war-mage. He¡¯s stronger than the shaman.¡± ¡°It¡¯s level twenty-three,¡± Sil added, pulling an arrow out of a goblins throat. ¡°That means more mana, and a second affinity,¡± she shook her head. ¡°Jamis is only level six. It seems like¡­ a lot.¡± Nemir nodded, bracing his sword and getting ready for the slowly approaching goblins. ¡°I know. But Jamis is more skilled. And despite his lower level, his mana pool is nothing to scoff at. You¡¯ve seen that first hand.¡± ¡°How¡¯s that even possible?¡± Silvia muttered, knocking an arrow. ¡°Easy. He¡¯s a noble,¡± Omi shrugged. ¡°You think?¡± Silvia frowned. ¡°Maybe he¡¯s one of those people that ignite their Cores naturally. Don¡¯t most mages advance by the time they¡¯re his age, especially if they have resources?¡± she asked, glancing at Nemir. Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°They do,¡± he answered. ¡°Most of them Awaken at thirteen, and by fifteen they advance. At Jamis¡¯s age, some are already close to a second advancement.¡± ¡°Yeah, but it isn¡¯t like he doesn''t have resources,¡± Omi rolled his eyes. ¡°And besides, just look at him and tell me that man isn¡¯t a noble.¡± Annie followed along to the battle that still raged in the far corner of the cavern. A blazing shield flared to life above Jamis, defending against a falling spear of rock. His onyx black billowed as the wind picked up, his coat fluttering by his feet. "That coat is packed full of enchantments," Omi pointed out. ¡°Not to mention all the potions he chugs, his access to some highly regulated spell tomes, and the endless amount of gold he seems to have access to.¡± He wiped his daggers clean against a small cloth rag tucked into his belt. ¡°My guess is he¡¯s a fourth or fifth son of a noble house from another region. Maybe the reason he doesn''t talk about his family is because he can¡¯t,¡± he shrugged. ¡°From what I know, you¡¯re not supposed to do that if you¡¯re out getting life experience.¡± Nemir slapped on that awful poker face of his and looked away. ¡°Still doesn''t explain the age,¡± Annie said, pointing her spear forward. She¡¯d spent more than a few nights trying to figure out his story. But the black-haired bundle of mystery stayed exactly that, a mystery. Over the last few months, he¡¯d gone on two dozen quests with them. Along with more than a few late nights spent at the Hall. It was safe to say he was a part of the team, yet they didn¡¯t really know him. Annie agreed with Omi on one thing though. He was definitely a noble. But he wasn¡¯t out here getting life experience. The look he got when anyone got even close to the topic of family wasn¡¯t secrecy. It was sorrow, and rage, and righteous indignation. A strange brew that spoke of tragedy. What she did know was that he was talented, charming, smart, and a plethora of other different things. But he was also reckless. Prone to violence. Intense. Thankfully, the only time Annie saw those traits was in situations like this. When they were pointed well away from them and at a monstrous opponent. It was like he had two states of being. The calm adventurer, and the manic mage. Annie had noticed it during their fight against the Vinesnakes. The way his fingers had twitched, aching to cast. In the way his eyes had narrowed, a single-minded focus overtaking him. She wasn¡¯t a complete stranger to that feeling. The thrill had gripped her more than once, but it seems to perpetually hang around Jamis. Like it was just waiting to be set loose. Two more arrows took out another goblin, leaving only three. Their walk had slowed to a crawl, furiously glancing in the direction of shaman as if deciding what to do. They just watched the five of them take out their entire pack, it wasn¡¯t all that unexpected for them to be slightly hesitant. They might have been stronger than the lesser goblins, but the sight of so much carnage put them in fight or flight. It was just that flight meant having to deal with an angry shaman later. So they were having some trouble deciding what to do. ¡°Sil, pick them off. If they start running, we go after them,¡± Annie said, her focus narrowing down to ending this fight. Seeing another one of their number die, they decided that maybe dying later was better than definitely dying right now. They turned around and bolted while Annie and Omi rushed at their backs. Her spear took one in the back of the knee, followed by a quick kick to the neck, snapping its spine. Omi took out the other two in rapid succession. Cutting one¡¯s throat and piercing the other through the neck. The bodies hit the ground in a lifeless heap, and with that, the goblin pack was reduced to one. ¡°Now we wait,¡± Nemir said, positioning himself at the front, his massive greatsword held flat as a makeshift shield. ¡°Uhh, I wouldn¡¯t be so sure about that,¡± Silvia pointed out, gesturing at one of the three cave entrances. Something scraped against the ground, ominous thuds echoing from the darkness. Annie¡¯s stance firmed, pushing away the fatigue and the burning in her muscles. The fight wasn¡¯t over yet, and they couldn¡¯t afford to relax. A towering goblin stepped out of the shadows, a massive bone club held loosely in its grip. Annie could almost feel the tremors with each step it took. Its sickly green skin pulled taut over a frame of muscle. Scanning it revealed something she already knew.
Level: 18
Body: Silver I [18 Levels]
Core: N/A
¡°You just had to jinx us, didn¡¯t you?¡± Silvia muttered, glaring at Omi. ¡°How is this my fault? The big bastard was here from the start. Not like my words conjured him from the ether,¡± he snorted. ¡°If anything, it¡¯s Nemir¡¯s fault. He¡¯s the one who let the hand of fate choose this quest.¡± The burly swordsman rolled his eyes. ¡°I¡¯m a follower, not a priest. Nobody but us chose this quest.¡± ¡°Enough screwing around,¡± Annie said, taking a deep breath. With one final glance at the furious exchange of spells still taking place in the corner, she set her stance. Her gaze locked on the massive shape that was slowly gaining speed as it moved towards them. The hobgoblin let out a loud bellow, raising its club high into the air. That alone was a frightening enough sight, but the faint red haze coating its weapon was what really made Annie¡¯s heart race. Whether in fear or excitement, she wasn¡¯t sure. ¡°Keep your distance and focus on defense!¡± she shouted, getting into position. ¡°There¡¯s four of us and only one of him. We whittle him down, no heroics!¡± Her focus narrowed as a faint hum vibrated through her veins. The sound of her own heartbeat was loud in her ears, like a guiding rhythm correcting her movements. Fighting up a rank was a challenge, even for them. Having an Aura was a power boost that was hard to match. But just like for mages, levels didn¡¯t determine strength. Jamis was level six, and he was handily holding his own against an opponent almost four times his level. Annie might not have had a Core, and the twenty or so stats she¡¯d put into attempting to ignite it made her weaker than a Warrior of her level should be, but she balanced that out with skill. Or in a more literal sense, skills.
Skills: Spear Mastery [Proficient], Iron Wall [Proficient], Sweeping Strike [Proficient], Martial Resilience [Proficient], Deadly Precision [Adept], Piercing Thrust [Adept], Sense Danger [Novice]
Annie had spent her entire life training to be an adventurer. And now, under the tutelage of her aunt, she was finally thriving. Four Proficiency-rank skills, and two that were on the cusp of a breakthrough. All while only half-way through Iron. [Sense Danger] was the skill she chose after her last advancement. And even though she¡¯d only had it for a few days, seeing it at Novice was still an eyesore. Annie¡¯s plan was to have at least eight before she advanced to Silver. Not to mention igniting her Core. She would be a warrior her family could be proud of. A true Knight. Even with a Core she would never be a full-fledged mage. That just wasn¡¯t in the cards. She had neither the time, nor the dedication needed to pursue the magical arts. Spell tomes didn¡¯t grow on trees, and acquiring one had as much to do with having connections as it did with having gold. But that didn¡¯t mean she would leave that well of power untapped. Igniting her Core while still in Iron would make her Aura that much more powerful. She just had to live long enough to accomplish it. Silvia pulled her bow back as far as it could go, the string vibrating as she activated [Power Shot]. She released her skill. The arrow blurred through the air, heading straight towards the bull-rushing hobgoblin. It roared, swinging its club in a sideways sweep, obliterating the projectile with ease. ¡°Seven more shots!¡± Silvia called out, quickly trying again. Once again failing to breach through the hobgoblins defenses. Annie widened her stance, getting ready to dodge. This was their third time fighting a monster with an Aura. They knew the roles they needed to play in order to win. It was Nemir¡¯s job to hold its attention, while Omi and Annie assaulted its flanks. Forcing it to spread its attention. Silvia would hold off, waiting for a good shot. Just as the hobgoblin crossed the halfway point¡ªthe thrill now pumping freely through her veins¡ªa pained shout, followed by an enraged screech, interrupted her focus. Her gaze shot towards the source of the noise just in time to see Jamis flying through the air, his back impacting the cavern wall. He crumpled to the floor in a heap, and for a moment, Annie thought he was dead. She held her breath, the grip on her spear unnaturally tight. If he¡¯s dead, so are you, the thought came unbidden. Fighting the hobgoblin would be challenging enough. If they threw a caster into the mix, they were as good as dead. Come on, she grit her teeth. Get up! Grunting in effort, Jamis pushed himself up and cast a shield, barely managing to deflect a barrage of rocks the shaman sent his way. ¡°Annie, watch out!¡± Omi shouted, pulling her focus to their own fight. Her muscles tensed as she turned her head. Once again reminded that just because something was big, it didn¡¯t mean it was slow. A massive bone club fell towards her head, the red-haze covering it shining ominously in the dim light as she frantically threw herself to the side. The hobgoblin had reached them. And it wasn¡¯t wasting any time. 9 - Beatdown Rowan laughed in glee as he deflected another [Rock Shot]. The shaman was doing everything in its power to keep him away, trusting in the defensive properties of its affinity against Rowan¡¯s offensive ones. A [Burning Whip] perpetually hung around his shoulder, twisting and slashing through the air. Holding it active had become almost instinctual. The mark of a truly mastered spell. After this, I¡¯m going back to the Plateau, Rowan decided firmly. If I could do the same with [Fireball], this wouldn¡¯t have even been a fight. He could feel he was close. It would take him a single outing to the region. A few hours of holding a vent. There, he would be able to cast it repeatedly. Something he couldn¡¯t do in Litwick for a multitude of reasons. The shaman snarled something as it launched a [Wind Blast] at him. Rowan¡¯s whip cracked through the air, deflecting it away. In response, a [Firebolt] formed in his hand. Taking another chunk of his mana with it. He sent it flying towards his opponent just as the shaman formed another [Earthen Wall], taking the spell with ease. A spell''s Intent grew weaker the further away it was from the caster. So by the time Rowan¡¯s bolt reached the shaman, it had degraded enough for his opponent to deal with it. The same way he¡¯d done with the [Wind Blast]. If he wanted to win this, he either needed to get close and overpower it, or sneak in an attack through its defenses. He threw himself to the side as the ground beneath him started vibrating. A thin spear of tightly compacted earth whistled right by his ear, followed by a frustrated grunt from the shaman. Guess he had the same idea, Rowan thought, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. That was closer to death than he¡¯d come in a long time. Monsters rarely did tactics. They threw themselves at anything they perceived to be a threat with wild abandon. But once again, Rowan was reminded that he was fighting a caster. One more try. And if it doesn''t manage to hit, I¡¯m going in. Another [Firebolt] formed in his hand. Only this time, his whip curled around his arm, the tip wrapping around the spell. He wouldn¡¯t do much just throwing spells around with no regard. That would have been a waste of mana. Something Rowan really couldn¡¯t afford, seeing as he was already below half. Let¡¯s hope this works, he thought, extending the tendril overhead and cracking it in the shaman''s direction. The extra length gave his Intent less time to deteriorate, and the unexpected direction of his attack was exactly the type of surprise Rowan needed. Earth and Water affinity mages had the added benefit of their elements persisting after being cast. But on the flip side, it made them harder to move. Especially shield spells like the one his opponent was conjuring. His spell flew over the [Earthen Wall], descending on the goblin, its eyes wide in panic. But even in its panic, the shaman proved himself a skilled caster. It fractured the wall with a wave of its hand and sent the rocks flying into the air. The following explosion formed a small dust cloud, earth and rock showering the goblin. Rowan grinned. He might not have managed to hit the shaman, but he¡¯d done the second-best thing. Its shield was down, and Rowan didn¡¯t plan on giving his opponent time to cast it again. He blurred into motion, a second tendril of flame already erupting from his back. That trick wouldn¡¯t work twice, leaving only one path open to him. Rowan needed to get close. Gritting his teeth, he rushed across the cavern, his feet digging into the soft dirt with each frantic step. There was a reason he focused a significant portion of his stats towards Dexterity. He couldn¡¯t win every fight with overwhelming firepower. Winning required not getting hit, and being fast was the way to make that happen. As the dust settled, the shaman noticed his rapid approach and took an instinctual step back. Its lips pulled up into an ugly sneer, drool dripping from its serrated teeth. It cast an empowered [Gust] into the ground, throwing itself back, out of range of Rowan¡¯s whips. He growled in frustration, pulling his focus tighter, manifesting a third whip. This time, it came easier. The strain that followed an overexertion of his Focus was nowhere to be found. Three was still his limit, meaning there would be no other spells while he maintained them, but that was fine. With the thrill pushing him forward, he felt better than ever. This was what he lived for. Where his heart truly sang. On the edge, riding the thin line between advancement and death. The goblin landed on its feet. Pointing its gnarled staff at Rowan, it sent out a pair of [Wind Blast]¡¯s. He easily deflected them, his three active spells more than up to the challenge. But something was wrong. That move made no sense. Why would the shaman just waste its mana, knowing it wouldn¡¯t even slow Rowan down? Unless it was a faint. He noticed the eerie grin on its scarred face just as something massive impacted him in the chest. In his haste, Rowan had stepped over exactly where the shaman had been standing since the start of the fight. And it seemed like he¡¯d left a present. A pillar of rock as thick as a tree launched him back, his spells dissipating as he lost focus. Rowan hit the ground hard, the wind knocked from his lungs, struggling to breathe. His thoughts felt hazy, but a sharp hum emanating from the depths of his soul restitched his focus back together. The enchantments woven into his coat took the brunt of the damage. Preventing cracked ribs or any other substantial injury. It still wasn¡¯t pleasant, but Rowan could probably walk it off. Well, if he managed to survived what came next. Fear tried to grip him. It would take him a second to get a [Fire Shield] up. And if the shaman was already casting, it would be much too late. Rowan tried to push himself upward, hissing in pain from the pain in his arm. His vision cleared and he locked eyes with his opponent, seeing a rapidly swirling mass of earth condensing into a spear. It looked at him with a murderous, almost eager expression¡ªone that made Rowan¡¯s blood boil. He was staring death in the face, growling in defiance as he pulled mana from his rapidly depleting Core. This wasn¡¯t where he was going to die. In an insignificant region against an insignificant opponent. Even if it looked inevitable. Rowan was barely halfway through the cast when the shaman''s spell finished. A polished spear floated above its head, the tip pointed ominously towards him. Faster! he thought frantically, forcing his mana to move. Faster! An enraged squawk suddenly echoed through the cavern, and Rowan''s eyes widened. Just as the shaman was about to release its spell, a black blur dove from above. Kai¡¯s claws raked across its face a moment later, drawing a pained snarl from its throat. It wasn¡¯t enough to fully stop the spell, but Kai¡¯s intervention was enough to mess with its aim. Rowan grasped at the opportunity with both hands. Despite it not being fully finished, he cast his shield. It wouldn¡¯t have been strong enough to defend against a direct hit, yet against a glancing blow, it was more than up to the task. Instead of a sharp red, a soft orange flame covered his side. The shaman''s spear impacted his hastily erected defense and raked across it, gouging a furrow into it and dissipating his Intent in the process. But thankfully, his shield was enough to deflect it away.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. The spear slammed into the wall behind him, digging deep into the stone and shaking the cavern. Rowan forced himself to move. Pushing his sore body upright, trying to steady his stance. Another mistake like that one, and this fight would be over. His reserves were down to a quarter, meaning he only had one shot at landing a killing blow. Kai¡¯s reckless attack had bought him only seconds. Seconds Rowan intended to use. Things weren¡¯t looking good. He was further away from the shaman than when he¡¯d started, and he only had a few spells left in the tank. Yet that only seemed to intensify the pounding in his ears. His focus sharpened, like a hazy window being wiped clean. Steadying his breathing, he cast [Burning Whip] for a third time. There was only one thing that mattered to him right now, everything else fading away like mist. It wasn¡¯t finding out the truth about his family, or getting stronger. What mattered was getting close and choking the life out of this fucking goblin. With a low growl, Rowan jumped into action. . . . Nemir grunted as the hobgoblins'' club crashed against his sword. It was his job to hold its attention, and he planned on doing just that. He wasn¡¯t sure from what monster the bone came from, but judging by the size and weight, it hadn¡¯t been Iron. Its Aura only compounded that problem. [Bastion Guard] was one of his three proficient-level skills. Along with [Greatsword Mastery] and [Crescent Strike]. But even that was barely enough to deflect the monster''s attacks. It had been a while since he¡¯d fought something physically stronger than him.
Name: Nemir Al''Kalat
Title: 4th Heir (Count)
Body: Iron V [15 Levels]
Core: N/A
Level: 15
Strength: 60
Dexterity: 30
Vitality: 32
Intelligence: 2
Willpower: 2
Focus: 15
His stats were closer to someone at Silver II or III, but even though the hobgoblin was only at the first stage of the rank, Nemir found himself getting pushed back. The red haze that covered its weapon wasn¡¯t something he could deal with alone. An Aura of Might made everything it did more, its attacks simply stronger than his own. He focused intensely on observing the monster. If he wanted to hone his own, there was nothing better than fighting against it. He hadn''t wasted the last six months spent at Iron V. Each day, he was getting closer. Litwick had been an excellent choice for his proving. Especially if there was a monster surge. These were exactly the kinds of enemies he needed to fight in order to advance. He focused on the burn in his muscles, the way they moved in unison. This was his way of inflicting his Will onto the world, and if he wanted to advance to Silver, it was what he needed to master. Annie and Omi flanked the massive monster, inflicting quick, probing strikes on its tough hide. The attacks didn¡¯t manage to harm it, but what they did manage to do was distract it for long enough for Silvia to get a shot in. Her arrow blurred through the air. Embedding itself into the hobgoblin''s shoulder. It snarled in rage, swinging its weapon in a sweeping strike, its roar echoing through the cavern. Annie threw herself back with startling speed, and Nemir was about to follow, but he stopped himself at the last second. Omi had been right next to the monster when Silvia¡¯s arrow struck, and if Nemir moved out of the way, the attack would land on him. Gritting his teeth, he turned his body to the side and flattened his blade. Kneeling low in order to deflect the club upwards. Something stirred in his veins, barely a note, replacing his hesitation with eagerness. Danger is the price for progress made. A determined yell left his throat as the red haze made contact with his blade. It tried to overwhelm him. To push him down. To force him to give way. But how could this creature be Mightier than him? He¡¯d been training for this his whole life. From the moment he was barely big enough to hold a sword, it had been a Path he wanted to follow. Gods willing, he would never become Count, but he was still a member of his House. His duty was to become a warrior worthy of that name. And a creature that had spit dripping down its chin wouldn¡¯t bar him from that. The club impacted his blade like a ballista. It forced the flat side of his weapon to crash against his shoulder, just like he¡¯d hoped. Something broke and a sharp pain pierced through his focus, but he didn¡¯t care. Nemir knew it would be here waiting for him, and he¡¯d accepted it. Using the extra leverage, he pushed himself upwards, grunting in effort as the club sailed over his head. His move managed to disturb the hobgoblin¡¯s footing, just like he¡¯d hoped. Its eyes widened at the unexpected result, and for the first time since the fight had started, their opponent was on the back foot. It had expected easy prey, trusting in its Aura to be enough to overwhelm them. And while that would have been true for any one of them, they weren¡¯t fighting alone. Nemir¡¯s leg gave out and he fell to one knee. He hissed in pain, his shoulder most likely broken. Annie didn¡¯t waste the opportunity his injury brought them, lunging at the defenseless monster. Her spear burrowed into its side, piercing muscle and cracking bone. The hobgoblin howled in agony, twisting its body and trying to get away. She obliged him, thrusting her spear even further, pushing its body towards a pair of waiting daggers. The first stab landed in its lower back, tearing through muscle as Omi dug for its spine while the other severed a tendon by its knee, forcing the bulky monster to the ground. Its howl grew louder, but an arrow punching through its eye and into its brain quickly silenced the beast. The monster¡¯s body twitched, the grip on its club tightening for a moment before going lax. Omi cutting through its spine sped the process along, and it fell to the ground in a lifeless heap. Annie pulled her spear out with a sickly crunch, stabbing it into the back of the monster''s neck for good measure. She turned around, a wide grin on her face. ¡°Great fucking job.¡± Nemir winced as his blade clattered to the ground, gripping his wounded shoulder. The pain certainly wasn¡¯t pleasant, but he¡¯d dealt with worse. It was in moments like this that he was glad for [Pain Tolerance]. No matter how awful it was to train. ¡°I¡¯m counting that as my kill,¡± Omi said, his breathing heavy as he sheathed his daggers. ¡°As if,¡± Silvia snorted. ¡°If your aim was better, you might have actually hit your target. You gave it lower back pain, I scrambled its brains.¡± Nemir allowed himself a small smile, breathing out in relief. The exhilaration that came from winning against a fierce opponent was a heady feeling. One he didn¡¯t think he¡¯d ever get sick of. That last exchange was worth the broken bones. It felt like he was on the cusp of something. Like a thunderstorm waiting to break. Before, when trying to contest an Aura, Nemir felt like pushing against the wind. But for a moment, when their weapons had connected, there had been resistance. It was progress. A tangible step forward. I¡¯m almost there, he thought. One more fight like this. That¡¯s all I need. But that was for later. Right now, what he needed was a healing potion. Silvia was already walking towards him, pulling out a familiar red vial.
Name: Healing Potion
Grade: Uncommon
¡°Why is it every time we fight, it''s just you boys getting hurt?¡± ¡°Because Annie has a spear, and you spend your time flinging sticks from range,¡± Omi grumbled, dabbing at the shallow cut on his arm. ¡°Kind of hard to get injured if you never get close to the massive, bone-swinging monsters.¡± ¡°Still my kill.¡± She shrugged, handing Nemir the potion. Nemir nodded gratefully, chugging it down in one big gulp. The earthy taste was a familiar comfort, the viscous fluid flowing down his throat. It settled in his stomach, and as his body absorbed it, a sharp relief settled over him. The pain ebbed away as the potion did its work, knitting his tendons back together and repairing his shattered bones. It would be a week before he could drink one again, but finding rare or higher grade potions wasn¡¯t possible in Litwick. Despite its lack of resources, the city had proven an excellent location for his proving. Especially if there was a monster surge coming. This pack was proof that a tribe was settling in the area. Nemir had seen the red fang sigil on the tent, meaning there would be more than enough enemies to hone himself against in the upcoming weeks, and months. He tried not to think about the broader implications. There have been monster surges before, and there would be more in the future. It wasn¡¯t his job to deal with that. His father was an Ebony-ranked warrior, with his brothers and sisters not far behind. As much as he would like to be by their side, to be home¡ªprotecting Ba¡¯alat from the threats it faced. They didn''t need him there. The thought didn¡¯t evoke the same sense of frustration as it did when he left. Here, he could battle against opponents at the right level of strength. And hobgoblins were the perfect whetstone to sharpen himself against. At home, leaving the city walls without an appropriate escort would have been a death sentence. Gold-rank threats and higher were the norm. And against a single opponent like that, Nemir wouldn¡¯t have had the chance to hone his skills. Dying gruesomely would have prevented it. Still, he hoped the surge wouldn¡¯t be too bad. Even if all the signs were pointing to the opposite. Trouble at the Walls always led to hardships for the entire kingdom. As stronger monsters moved past them and settled new territory, they pushed out everything else and created a chain reaction. Trouble, right, he shook his head. That¡¯s one way of putting it. It was almost unfathomable to think that House Athlain fell. They had been the stewards of the North for generations. Guarding against the strongest threats this kingdom faced. When he was little, he¡¯d heard stories about the Archamages of Dawn and Dusk. They were legendary figures, renowned for the might of their spells and the weight of their deeds. For them to fall to an Archdemon, summoned into the heart of their power, that spoke ill of the times to come. The power vacuum left in the wake of that tragedy had unbalanced the realm. There was a race to see which House could gain the most. Land, riches, acclaim. But Nemir couldn¡¯t focus on that. As he was, there was nothing he could do but get stronger. Another Iron-ranked Warrior wouldn¡¯t do much for his family. They had those in droves. But here, that wasn''t the case. It was only a matter of time before Litwick experienced a serious threat. And with the way things were looking, it might already be here. A goblin pack wasn¡¯t that hard to take out, but an entire tribe was a different beast entirely. There wouldn¡¯t just be hobgoblins to deal with. Nemir followed Annie¡¯s gaze to the other side of the cavern, the thrill of their triumph slowly being tainted with nervousness. Jamis was a skilled mage. Frighteningly so. There was a grace in his movements that Nemir had rarely seen. And he¡¯d spent more than his fair share of time around casters. He hadn¡¯t been exaggerating when calling him an apprentice War-mage. Because that was the only thing he could compare it to. And from what little Nemir knew about him, it might just be true. But even that didn¡¯t seem to be enough. For all his skills and tenacity, he was fighting an opponent a whole rank higher. The shaman had seventeen levels and a whole other affinity at his disposal. Nemir groaned as he pushed himself up, picking up his sword and propping it against his good shoulder. Eldric¡¯s grace guide him, he intoned, sending a small prayer to the God of Fate. He admired Jamis¡¯s unwavering confidence, but right now, his choice to fight seemed more like foolishness. ¡°Come on, come on,¡± he heard Annie mutter, her gaze intense as she took an instinctual step forward. Omi¡¯s hand shot out, gripping her arm. ¡°Don¡¯t you dare,¡± he said firmly. ¡°A single stray hit and you¡¯re dead. We wait, and if it doesn''t work out, we run.¡± The rogue''s unusual seriousness got through to her. She gritted her teeth, forcing a slow nod. As much as Nemir didn¡¯t like it, it was the truth. Leaving a teammate to battle for his life while they stood by left a bitter taste in his mouth, but fighting a caster was suicide. It had been Jamis¡¯s decision to enter the cave knowing there was a shaman inside. Being an Adventurer was a dangerous profession. Every time they ventured into the Wilds, they knew they might not be coming back. It was a risk they all took in pursuit of power. Jamis yelled as Earth traveled up his leg, pinning him in place. And even from the other side of the cavern, Nemir thought he heard the cracking of bone. ¡°Sil, do something!¡± Annie shouted, glancing at the archer with a panicked expression. She frantically pulled out the arrow that had killed the hobgoblin, quickly straightening the fletchings. She nocked it, letting it fly in one fluid motion. Nemir¡¯s heart pounded like a drum. Knowing the smart thing to do was retreat closer to the entrance but unable to move. He followed the arrows'' flight, praying it found its mark. But without even a glance, the shaman deflected it out of the air with an errand stone. Silvia dodged to the side, the projectile flying over her head. Nemir¡¯s hopes shattered when the Earth started crawling further up Jamis¡¯s leg, his screams growing louder. The shaman took a gleeful step closer, keeping just out of range of the burning tendril slashing out towards it. But then, for barely a moment, Nemir saw a flash of pure determination in the mages¡¯ eyes. He¡¯d honed himself against the hobgoblin. And now, the only thing they could hope for was for Jamis to do the same. 10 - Company With a sickening crunch, Rowan felt bones snap. A howl tore out of his throat as the shaman clenched its fist, compacting the earth that had engulfed his leg. His focus almost slipped, the pain piercing through his brain like a sharpened spike. If he dropped his spell now, he was as good as dead. There would be no do-over or second chances. This right here was it. Rowan¡¯s concentration sharpened to a fine edge, keeping the mana flowing into his whip despite the agony of his broken leg. Pain was something he could deal with. He imagined a turbulent stream; the riverbank covered in boulders of varying sizes. It had been a while since he¡¯d last needed to use this technique, but it came to him as easily as always. The Rivers and Waves was a meditation exercise he¡¯d learned as a child. And while it wasn¡¯t a true skill, that didn¡¯t make it any less useful. With an effort of Will, Rowan started throwing the boulders into the stream. It didn¡¯t deal with his injury. His wounds were still there. But what it did do was hide the pain from view. It kept his mind focused on the task at hand. The shaman thought it had him. That it caught its prey. But Rowan still had a tenth of his mana left, and with his spell active, he wasn¡¯t out of the fight yet. His [Burning Whip] slashed at the shaman, trying and failing to reach it. The smug bastard stood just out of range, grinning as a [Wind Blast] former at the tip of its staff. It took another step closer, taunting him, wanting to see the fear in Rowan¡¯s eyes. But instead, the only thing it saw was a bloody grin. The two tendrils of flame he¡¯d coiled around each other unfurled. Rowan had spent the last minute meticulously splitting his spell. He didn¡¯t have enough mana for another one, but that didn¡¯t mean he was out of cards to play. Holding it active with half the mana was straining his Intent, and dealing with that was where mastery came into play. Rowan condensed the whips. He made them as narrow as he could, keeping his mana under tension. But that wasn¡¯t the only thing he did. Making them narrower also made them longer. Something the gloating shaman hadn¡¯t expected. Rowan¡¯s whips shot out and wrapped around the monster''s limbs. It snarled in panic, and for the first time since their duel started, Rowan could see genuine fear in the goblins'' eyes. The [Wind Blast] fizzled out, blowing its dirty robe and matted hair back as a tendril of flame constricted around its arm. It dug into its flesh with a loud hiss, charring the skin and burning through muscles. The goblins¡¯ agonized scream grew louder as Rowan¡¯s spell cut through its arm, severing it by the elbow. With the shaman''s second spell failing, the pressure on his leg decreased, causing Rowan''s pain to surge. He barely held it together, throwing everything he had into tightening his other whip around the monster''s throat. When mages fought, a single spell was the difference between life and death. And even though Rowan had been losing for most of the battle, he¡¯d just landed that single spell. Letting out a triumphant yell¡ªhalf in pain, half in fury¡ªhe clenched his fist. The whips drew taut, and the shaman¡¯s head fell clean from its shoulder. A charred husk joined its severed arm while the ugly-looking staff clamored against the cavern floor. Rowan stared at the scene, bruised, bloody, and panting. The thrill that came with victory was the only thing keeping him standing. ¡°I did it,¡± he muttered, a wide smile stretching across his face. ¡°I won.¡± He fought a caster a tier higher than him, and he¡¯d come out on top. Rowan¡¯s gaze moved towards the center of the cavern¡ªtowards the dozens of bodies the Crimson Grove had left in its wake. He focused on the largest one, a hobgoblin with a hole through its skull. He¡¯d been so focused on his own battle that he hadn¡¯t even noticed it. But seeing a Silver-rank threat lying dead beneath them filled him with pride. At the sight, the tension slowly left his muscles. They¡¯d done what they set out to do. The goblin pack was dealt with. Their quest was complete. The thrill and adrenaline that kept him standing subsided, and with a strangled grunt, Rowan fell to the ground, his leg finally giving out. Kai was the first to reach him. His familiar swooped down, landing next to his broken leg. He cooed softly, nuzzling his head against Rowan¡¯s side. ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± he winced, blinking away the stars that clouded his vision. ¡°Just¡­ need a minute.¡± His thoughts grew cloudy, the blood loss making it hard to think. To move. Kai¡¯s trills grew more intense, his beak pecking at his fingers. ¡°Stop that,¡± Rowan mumbled, his speech growing slurred. ¡°I¡¯m already¡­ hurt¡­ enough.¡± Kai pecked again, the soft plink of his beak hitting Rowan¡¯s ring cutting through the haze. Healing, Rowan suddenly thought. I need healing¡­ The Vault¡­ Potions. Wrestling his mind under control felt like steering a ship with a spoon. Rowan knew exactly what he needed to do. He just didn¡¯t know if he could. As his eyes fluttered closed, Kai grew frantic. He bit at his hand¡ªhard, and for a moment, the sharp sting was enough to refocus his mind. Slipping into the Rivers and Waves technique, Rowan didn¡¯t let the amount of stones dotting the riverside deter him. He got to work, throwing in one after the other, fighting against the pull of unconsciousness with each heave. A furious intensity arose within him. He¡¯d won his fight. Dying after the fact wasn¡¯t an option. He heard the rapid footfalls of the Grove closing in, yet he didn¡¯t let that distract him from his task. Annie was the first to reach him, rushing to his side and gently cradling his head. ¡°Hey, we¡¯ve got you,¡± she said, concern lacing her tone. ¡°You¡¯re alright.¡± This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Rowan could barely make out her voice, but as she pulled a vial up to his lips, he turned his head away. ¡°Drink, you idiot!¡± she said firmly. The riverbank was far from fully cleared, but he¡¯d done enough to keep himself from falling unconscious. ¡°W-wait,¡± he muttered, groaning in effort as he summoned a potion from the Vault.
Name: Healing Potion
Grade: Rare
It was a higher rarity than the one Annie offered him, and with the sheer scope of the damage he¡¯d suffered, he was going to need it. Her eyes widened in surprise as she took it. She threw a quick glance towards the ring on Rowan¡¯s finger. But right now, he didn¡¯t care about what he was revealing. He''d already made up his mind to trust them. At least with this. In Litwick, a storage ring would definitely draw attention. They weren¡¯t all that uncommon in the grand scheme of things, but it was mostly mages who had access to them. And with there being only half a dozen of those in the city, that made them scarce. The Vault was so much more than just a storage ring, but he would keep that to himself. Annie uncorked the vial, tipping the soothing liquid into his mouth. Rowan eagerly gulped it down, feeling it settle in his stomach. His body slowly absorbed it, turning the alchemical properties imbued into the liquid into Life Essence. Healing his injuries. A soft, green haze appeared around his leg, and Rowan braced himself for what followed. He yelped as his broken leg snapped into place, his bones slowly knitting themselves back together while his wounds closed. It was a deeply unpleasant experience, like worms burrowing out and leaving something behind to fill the hole. He shuddered at the sensation, but a relieved breath soon followed. It was better to feel pain than nothing at all. It would take a few minutes for him to be healed up. And a few hours for his blood to regenerate, but Rowan would live. He pushed himself up, wincing as a twinge went up his leg. ¡°That went well,¡± Rowan muttered, a tired smile on his face. Nemir nodded, glancing at the decapitated shaman. ¡°Yes, it certainly did.¡± Rowan could see the tension slowly leave the burly swordsman''s body as he realized their fight was done. He thrust his sword into the ground, leaning against it and letting out a long, drawn-out breath. ¡°Gods, that was something else,¡± Silvia added, plopping down on the ground and unstringing her bow. ¡°I¡¯m never going to get used to seeing mages fight.¡± ¡°You can say that again,¡± Annie said, her eyes taking in the carnage Rowan¡¯s battle had left, a strange hunger in her gaze. There were furrows dug into the scarred ground where his whips and spells had left their marks, with pillars of earth and rock jutting out like the jaws of a wild beast. ¡°Seems you weren¡¯t just talking out of your ass,¡± Omi smirked, handing Rowan a waterskin. He chuckled, taking it with shaky hands and washing the blood from his face. ¡°It was closer than I would have liked. But I still have a head, so I¡¯ll take it as a win.¡± Rowan finally let himself relax. His wounded leg was slowly knitting itself back together, so the only thing he could do was wait. Kai nuzzled into his side, trilling softly. Rowan smiled, scratching the little menace under the chin. ¡°You did good,¡± he praised him, once again grateful for having such a loyal companion by his side. Seeing that he was alright, his familiar turned towards the cavern, a greedy glint in his eyes. It was a scene of death and mayhem, with dead bodies covering the ground and the stench of blood and guts permeating the air. ¡°Yeah, yeah, I¡¯m fine,¡± Rowan snorted. ¡°Go wild.¡± He didn¡¯t need to be told twice. With a flap of his wings, Kai flew towards the carnage, landing on the massive hobgoblin. His beak widened the hole Silvia¡¯s arrow had left in the monster''s skull and started he his feast. ¡°That¡¯s certainly a sight,¡± Rowan muttered, shaking his head. ¡°What level was it?¡± He asked, curious about their fight. ¡°Eighteen,¡± Annie said, smiling proudly. ¡°You should have seen Nemir go. He took on its Aura head-on,¡± she clapped him on the back. ¡°Didn¡¯t even break any bones,¡± she said with a smirk. Rowan looked at the swordsman, an appraising look in his eyes. ¡°How close are you?¡± he couldn¡¯t help but ask. Nemir closed his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips as he took a deep breath. ¡°Close,¡± he whispered. ¡°I felt it there, at the end. Like a well of power I haven¡¯t tapped into yet.¡± Rowan nodded. ¡°That¡¯s good,¡± he said. ¡°With the direction things are headed, having a Silver-rank on the team is going to be important.¡± This fight confirmed that there was a tribe settling in the area. Shamans and hobgoblins weren¡¯t monsters that just wandered around without purpose. They had been expecting a pack, a dozen or so goblins. But what they found was a village in the making. Nemir''s expression hardened. ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± he said, glancing over at the shamans'' tent. ¡°Omi, could you cut out that sigil? We¡¯ll need it for the report.¡± The rogue nodded, moving away to do his task. ¡°Would you stop it with the doom and gloom?¡± Silvia said, walking around and plucking arrows out of corpses. ¡°We just won a huge fight. We¡¯re allowed to celebrate for a bit before you downers spoil the mood.¡± Nemir chuckled, and a small smile appeared on Rowan¡¯s face. They shared a knowing glance, deciding to leave that conversation for later. She was right. Now wasn¡¯t the time for that kind of talk. Nemir stood back up, dusting off his clothes and pulling out a dagger. His eyes moved over the graveyard they left in their wake, and Rowan could see Silvia¡¯s expression fall. ¡°Do we have to?¡± she grumbled. ¡°If we want to get paid,¡± he shrugged, moving from goblin to goblin, prying out their fangs. Rowan leaned his back against the cavern wall. ¡°Let me guess, you¡¯re too wounded to help?¡± Annie smirked, crossing her arms. ¡°Of course,¡± he nodded. ¡°I think I might faint if I stand up.¡± Rowan groaned for emphasis. ¡°In fact, you might need to carry me back.¡± She rolled her eyes. ¡°Stop bitching.¡± Taking her canteen, she emptied it over Rowan¡¯s leg, washing away the blood and revealing the healed skin beneath. ¡°Don¡¯t think I didn¡¯t scan the potion you gave me,¡± Annie said, plopping down next to him. ¡°Or that you pulled it out of a storage ring.¡± Rowan sighed. ¡°Can we pretend you didn¡¯t?¡± Annie snorted. ¡°Fat chance,¡± she eyed him for a moment, a thoughtful expression on her face. ¡°I¡¯m guessing it¡¯s not something you want to talk about?¡± ¡°No. Not really,¡± he said after a moment. ¡°And I¡¯d appreciate it if it stays in the group. The last thing I need is some desperate moron trying to steal it.¡± That wasn¡¯t the whole truth, but it¡¯d do for now. The only people in the kingdom who had any shot of taking it from him weren¡¯t anywhere near Litwick. And taking it wasn¡¯t the same as getting access to it. The bloodline lock on the artifact made sure of that. Breaking a soul-bond required a special set of skills. Ones that were considered rare even in the circles he grew up in. And even if someone did manage to break it, the only thing they would get was a plain stone ring. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. Your secret is safe with us,¡± she said, a playful glint in her eyes. ¡°But from now on, you¡¯re carrying all the loot.¡± Rowan laughed, letting out a breath he didn¡¯t even know he was holding. Secrets had a way of weighing on him, and while he couldn¡¯t spill all of them, getting a few off his chest left him feeling lighter than he had in a long time. ¡°Deal.¡± ¡°Good,¡± she nodded, standing back up. ¡°Enough sitting around. Put on some pants, and get to work.¡± Rowan glanced down at himself, noticing his state of undress. His pants were more a suggestion than a real article of clothing at this point. And while he wasn¡¯t what one would call shy, walking around half-naked was just plain rude. Cleaning away the last remnants of blood covering his body, he pulled out a fresh set of clothes from the Vault and followed after her. There were goblins to loot. And those teeth weren¡¯t going to pull themselves. . . . Half an hour later, the team stood in what used to be a goblin village. Omi held a pouch filled to the brim with goblin fangs, throwing it casually into the air. ¡°Now that¡¯s what I call a payday,¡± he grinned. ¡°Three dozen lesser goblins, a dozen Iron-rank ones, and a hobgoblin?¡± he tossed the pouch to Rowan. ¡°New armor, here I come.¡± ¡°You¡¯re thinking too small,¡± Rowan smiled, holding a smooth orb in his other hand. The shaman¡¯s Core shone with an inner light¡ªa soft orange, with flashes of green and brown visible deeper in. Rowan¡¯s duel had left it mostly depleted, but even still, it was worth ten times the amount they¡¯d get from the quest itself. Omi¡¯s brows furrowed. ¡°Not our kill. Besides, aren¡¯t Core¡¯s useful for mages?¡± he asked. ¡°Might be better for you to keep it.¡± ¡°Not really,¡± Rowan answered, willing it into the Vault along with the fangs. ¡°I¡¯m not an enchanter, or an alchemist, or a blacksmith. The only thing I can do with it is keep it as a trophy,¡± he shrugged. ¡°And we decided on the distribution before we left the city. Changing it after the fact wouldn¡¯t be fair.¡± If the shaman had a Fire affinity, Rowan might have been able to absorb what mana was left to refill his reserves. But besides that, it was just a pretty bauble. ¡°You won¡¯t hear me complaining about free gold,¡± Silvia said, casually sharpening an arrowhead. ¡°I¡¯ve been eyeing a new bow. And selling a Core is going to go a long way towards that.¡± ¡°Alright, enough messing around,¡± Nemir said, standing up. ¡°We need to get back to the city before nightfall. If we go now, we should make it with a few hours to spare.¡± The rest of the team followed suit, but Rowan raised a hand. ¡°Can you give me half an hour?¡± he asked, feeling at his Core. The fight had drained him fully, and walking around the Wilds defenseless was a fantastic way to get eaten. Nemir nodded. ¡°Probably for the best,¡± he said. ¡°But half an hour, and that¡¯s it.¡± Rowan took out a mana potion and gulped it down. He sat on the ground, closed his eyes, and started meditating. After a fight was the only time his mind seemed to stay calm. There were no stray thoughts, no heavy memories plaguing his mind. He took a deep, calming breath and got to work. The combination of a mana potion and meditation worked wonders on his depleted Core. It vibrated with a fierce intensity, slowly but surely filling back up. But less than five minutes later, the sound of weapons being drawn broke his concentration. Rowan¡¯s eyes shot open. He looked at the Grove, all of them standing with their backs to him, their eyes focused on one of the cave entrances. Just as he was about to ask what was going on, he heard it. Voices, faint but unmistakable. Nemir¡¯s grip tightened on the hilt of his sword. ¡°Get ready,¡± he said, a fierce expression on his face. ¡°We have company.¡± 11 - An Honest Disagreement Rowan stood up, dusting himself off as he moved to stand behind the rest of the team. Something was coming, and out in the Wilds, that usually meant trouble. He had barely a trickle of mana left. The potion he¡¯d drunk was still active in the background, his Core thrumming lightly as it slowly refilled itself. But without meditation on top of that, it would take hours for his reserves to fully come back. Right now, he was practically defenseless. ¡°It isn¡¯t goblins,¡± Omi muttered. ¡°Those are people.¡± Some of the tension left their shoulders, but even still, the team was on guard. This could prove more dangerous than their first fight depending on who exactly it was, and how many of them there were. The Wilds were a treacherous place, in more ways than one. It wouldn''t have been the first time a team went missing. Rowan took a moment to think it through. There were only two possibilities on who it could be. Either the Guild itself sent someone to retrieve them¡ªwhich wasn¡¯t all that likely¡ªor another team had found the cave. The chances of someone randomly running across it are almost nonexistent. So it was someone who saw the quest flier. ¡°It¡¯s that Silver-rank,¡± Rowan said after a moment. ¡°The one who accepted the quest before us.¡± Nemir grimaced. ¡°You¡¯re probably right.¡± None of them were naive enough to think this would be a friendly conversation. ¡°Killian. He¡¯s a Silver-rank with an Aura of Haste,¡± Omi said, his daggers held loosely by his side. It looked casual, but they were ready to be thrown. If things went south, getting the first attack in was crucial. Silvia did the same, with her bow pointed at the ground and an arrow loosely knocked. Nemir and Annie stood at the front, their weapons in their hands. ¡°His team is called the Steel Fist,¡± the rogue continued. ¡°Last I heard, there¡¯s two dozen of them. But half of those are still in Bronze, so I doubt all of them are out here,¡± he glanced at each of them in turn, his eyes lingering on Rowan. ¡°Can we take that?¡± He asked quietly, the implications clear. Rowan shook his head. Fighting against someone with an Aura wasn¡¯t a fight he would win right now. A warrior with it had the ability to interact with mana, and a single [Firebolt] wasn¡¯t going to end that threat. Even if the team managed to deal with the Iron-ranks, that one loose end was enough to crush their chances. A battle was most often decided by who had the strongest person on the field. And right now, that wasn¡¯t them. Rowan¡¯s mind spun, and he quickly realized what he had to do. Summoning the staff he¡¯d picked up from the shaman, he stepped forward, moving in front of the team.
Name: Minor Staff of Wind
Grade: Rare
It wouldn¡¯t actually help him with his casting. Rowan had exactly zero Wind mana to work with, and that made the staff nothing more than a big stick. But they didn¡¯t know that. A single spell would be more than enough for a demonstration. His trait prevented mana exhaustion, so to whoever entered the cavern, Rowan would look like a mage with the necessary resources to fight back. It didn¡¯t matter that it wasn¡¯t true. What mattered was that they believed it. If you can¡¯t win a fight, avoid it. Fighting against a mage was not something most people did lightly. And that went double for high-leveled Adventures. Getting that strong required skill, and more importantly, the ability to stay alive. Whoever this Killian was, he wasn¡¯t stupid. If he saw that there was a real chance he could lose his life, he¡¯d back off. Or at least, that was the hope. The sound of voices grew louder. The clinking of metal and the armored footfalls of half a dozen men reached their ears just before the group appeared, entering the cavern. At their front stood three swordsmen, their blades drawn and the quality of their armor apparent, even from a distance. Behind them strode a tall, athletic-looking man, outfitted in studded leather armor, a long spear in his hand. That¡¯s him, Rowan thought. A quick scan confirmed it.
Level: 27
Body: Silver IV [27 Levels]
Core: N/A
It was higher than he would have liked. High enough that there was a chance even in a straight fight, he wouldn¡¯t come out ahead. The shaman was the tougher opponent of the two, but that had left him pretty damn close to dying. Rowan was only level six, so there was a good chance he¡¯d have to give them what they wanted. He stepped around Nemir, moving to the front. Just have to convince him I''m not running on empty. He had mana for maybe two [Firebolt]¡¯s. Not much, but it should hopefully be enough. The goal wasn¡¯t to not turn this into a fight, and Rowan had just the tools for that. Annie shot him a look, but the swordsman placed a hand on her shoulder. He nodded to Rowan, understanding the situation. ¡°Be careful,¡± he said, glancing at his ring. ¡°They¡¯ll probably ask for a part of the reward. But I¡¯m guessing that¡¯s worth a lot more, so try not to lose it.¡± You don¡¯t know how right you are, Rowan smiled, nodding back. This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. The Vault being stolen wasn¡¯t a risk. The ring was soul-bound to him, meaning he couldn¡¯t lose it. To everyone else, it looked like it was plain stone. Nothing more than a worthless keepsake. Because in essence, that was exactly what it was. The ring was nothing more than an access point. ¡°I¡¯m going to warn you upfront, I¡¯m going to do something loud,¡± he said, looking at the team. ¡°Don¡¯t panic when I do, okay?¡± Silvia gave him a thumbs up. ¡°Try not to get us killed.¡± Rowan snorted. ¡°Will do.¡± It was gratifying to see the trust they put in him. Annie¡¯s scowl didn¡¯t go away, but she thankfully pointed it towards the approaching group. Omi and Silvia took a step back, slightly flanking the three of them. Even though he hoped this wouldn¡¯t turn into a fight, it was smart to be prepared. Adventurers didn¡¯t usually kill other Adventurers. It was a crime that would lead to expulsion from the Guild at best, and a public execution at the worst. But that didn¡¯t mean it never happened. They were hours away from the city, deep into the Wilds. And who¡¯s to say what happened if they never returned? Nemir¡¯s right. They¡¯ll ask for a cut. So do I just give it to them? He could say it had been his decision and pay the team back from his own funds. The reward from fifty goblins, a hobgoblin, and a shaman would be a big haul¡ªat least a few hundred gold¡ªbut it wasn¡¯t like he would feel the loss. So why was he hesitating? Paying back the team wasn¡¯t what nagged at him. The thing that bothered him was paying out the ransom in the first place. He took a deep breath, pushing away his pride. In any dangerous situation, the goal was to survive. That usually meant using his mana to end a threat¡ªexchanging an Intent for a result¡ªbut this wasn¡¯t that kind of danger. This wasn¡¯t a rampaging monster trying to bite his head off. It was a pack of greedy adventurers. The resource he had was gold, so he was going to use it. Rowan exhaled, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. As they got closer, Rowan noticed the two archers standing at the back. Chatting casually, their arrows half knocked. Behind even them was a robed figure, and it was her he focused on. He narrowed his eyes, trying to make out the insignia woven into her attire. The dim light of the cavern made it a hard task, and he just barely managed to make out a six-pointed star. Rowan¡¯s smile widened, his shoulders relaxing even further. That was the heraldry of the followers of Eldara, the Goddess of Nature. The priestess definitely wasn¡¯t a part of the group, and with her here, the chances of a fight happening dropped dramatically. The priesthood of Eldara wasn¡¯t known for being a murderous bunch. They were healers and guides, and Rowan would go as far as to call them trustworthy. The vows they took were more than just empty words, and more than human laws backed them. Unlike mages, priests exchanged their Cores for a connection to the Divine. They were granted Blessings in turn, which gave them abilities similar to spells. The Gods rewarded their followers, and as much as he despised the idea of giving someone else the reins to his power, it was a valid Path to take. Just because it wasn¡¯t the one he walked didn¡¯t mean he would mock it. It wasn¡¯t uncommon for the Order to attach one of its younger members to a team and send them out into the Wilds. They were healers. If they wanted to grow stronger, that was exactly what they needed to do, and this was exactly where they needed to be to do it. Not too many gruesome injuries in the city, Rowan winced, flexing his leg. The potion had done its work, but the mental scar of having his limb shattered still lingered. Beyond the walls was where healing was needed the most. Eldara had a large number of worshipers in Litwick, the same as in most other settlements. She was the leader of the pantheon. Her domain spanned most of the world. It was easier to follow a God than it was to become a mage, and often safer than becoming a warrior. Meaning worshipers were numerous across the kingdom.
Level: 12
Body: Bronze II [2 Levels]
Blessing: Glimmer [10 Levels]
First Circle, Rowan thought to himself. Glimmer was the lowest rank a blessing could be. To advance, a worshiper needed to deepen its connection with the Divine. Turning it into an inner Glow. Priest took that even further, but from what Rowan knew, there was only a single one of those in the city. ¡°He¡¯s going to be much faster than you,¡± Annie whispered, shooting a glance at the approaching Silver-rank. ¡°If things go south, Nemir¡¯s the only one who has a chance of withstanding a blow. You should be at the back.¡± The rest of their group was dangerous on its own, but the man in the center was on another level. There was a look about him. A grace to his movements that made him resemble a predator. He was a middle-aged man with an athletic physique and a neatly trimmed beard adorning his face. The spear he held was a wicked-looking instrument. The dark brown shaft tipped with a blade longer than Rowan¡¯s arm. ¡°If things go south, we¡¯re fucked either way,¡± Omi muttered back, sheathing his daggers. ¡°And he¡¯s not going to fight a mage, especially after seeing that,¡± he said, glancing at the mass grave behind them. As the group finally got close enough, their Silver-rank waved. ¡°Greetings!¡± he said with an affable smile. ¡°It seems you took care of our quest for us,¡± he stepped to the front. ¡°I am Killian Burrow, leader of the Steel Fist. Who might you be?¡± Rowan kept his expression relaxed, nodding back to the approaching warrior. ¡°Hello there, I¡¯m Jamis, and this is the Crimson Grove,¡± he said, gesturing at the team. ¡°But I¡¯m pretty sure you¡¯re mistaken, the quest was reassigned to us.¡± ¡°Truly?¡± Killian¡¯s lips pulled down into a slight frown. ¡°That must have been a mistake,¡± he shook his head with a chuckle. ¡°I¡¯m sure we could come to some sort of arrangement.¡± And there it is. With the priestess here, Rowan was confident in turning this apparent shakedown into a negotiation. It was all about posturing. Being perceived as dangerous was often all you needed. And there were few things more dangerous than a pissed-off mage. Rowan shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m afraid you¡¯ll have to talk to the Guild about that.¡± He slowly turned his staff, drawing attention to it. It wasn¡¯t exactly subtle, but it got his meaning across. Killian¡¯s eyes narrowed, but his expression didn¡¯t waver. ¡°The Guild, yes¡­ but that takes time, and the bureaucracy is agonizingly slow,¡± he sighed with a weary smile. ¡°It¡¯s only right that we¡ªas the first team to take this quest¡ªreceive fair compensation. A token, if you will. For our trouble.¡± He forced a calm smile on his face, keeping his expression relaxed. What Killian was saying made absolutely no sense, and both of them knew it. His team had left the quest to expire. They did no work, and fought no battles. But here he was, trying to claim something that wasn¡¯t his. The thought of giving something to this lowlife ate away at Rowan. His grip tightened slightly. The shaman''s staff held ominously to the side. ¡°And what exactly did you have in mind?¡± Rowan asked, trying to keep the edge from his voice. Killian chuckled. ¡°Nothing too egregious, I assure you. I think twenty percent of the reward would be sufficient.¡± Rowan nodded slowly. ¡°Of course, that sounds more than fair.¡± Annie tensed, glancing at him with confusion clearly etched on her features. He understood the unspoken question in her eyes. She hadn¡¯t expected him to just give in to their demands. Just as she was about to say something, Omi¡¯s hand found her wrist. It was a subtle gesture, but it was enough to stop her from interfering. I need to remember to buy him a drink, Rowan thought, shooting the rogue a grateful look. Killian¡¯s smile widened. ¡°Good. I¡¯m glad we could agree.¡± Now comes the hard part. The spearman¡¯s gaze darted past Rowan, settling on the heap of goblin corpses in the cave. ¡°The reward should naturally include the bounty from the kills, no?¡± He sighed. Rowan took a moment to appraise the warrior, his gaze steady and unwavering, a subtle smile playing on his lips. The not-so-subtle threat of violence hanging heavy in the air. ¡°No, I don¡¯t think it should,¡± Rowan answered, turning his hand palm up and pulling what little mana he had out of his Core. The other members of the Steel Fist took an instinctual step back as a small red orb flared to life. It was barely the size of a marble, not nearly enough to do any significant damage. But damage wasn¡¯t the point. Killian¡¯s eyes narrowed at the display, his body turning slightly as if preparing for a fight. Rowan gestured at the battleground where he fought the shaman, the signs of their battle clear. It was hard to miss the furrows burned into the ground and the earthen spikes jutting upwards. He casually twirled the orb around his fingers. ¡°The quest was miss-ranked. Instead of a pack, we fought four. Including a shaman and a hobgoblin,¡± Rowan let that sink in, throwing the spell to the side. With such a small casting, he was able to tweak his Intent on the fly. So when the spell impacted the cavern wall, it exploded with a loud boom. That brought his mana down by a fair bit. If someone looked where it hit, they¡¯d have seen that there wasn¡¯t actually any damage on the wall. The spell had been all flash and thunder, no lightning. But nobody was focusing on that. The tension in the cavern rose. Nemir and Annie stepped closer to him while the three swordsmen hesitated, unsure whether to prepare for a fight or retreat. Rowan eyed the two archers at the back. They were frowning, but made no attempt to draw their bows. Finally, he glanced at the healer, curious to see what she would do. If anything, she looked the calmest out of all of them. There was a subtle frown on her face as she looked around the cavern, the explosion not concerning her in the slightest. She was instead focused on the location where Rowan had fought the shaman, her gaze drawn to the decapitated body of his opponent. Rowan returned his focus to the spearman standing in front of him. The look on Killain¡¯s face was unmistakable¡ªa flicker of wariness crossed his eyes, and he took a half-step back before steadying himself. It took him a moment to realize what he¡¯d done, and he scowled in response, the mask dropping. ¡°The kills were ours,¡± Rowan said simply, leaning the staff against his shoulder. ¡°The Guild is going to reclassify this quest as high Silver when we get back. Twenty percent of that is more than generous.¡± Killian took a slow step forward, eyeing Rowan with a calculating expression. He could see the gears turning in his head. Trying to find the right amount to push, the right amount to squeeze them for. ¡°And what happens if we disagree?¡± Killian finally said. Rowan didn¡¯t miss how he¡¯d moved just close enough for his spear to be in range. If he struck now, he wouldn¡¯t even see the blow coming. A Silver-rank focused on Dexterity wasn¡¯t a foe he could beat in a contest of speed, but instead of cowering, Rowan stepped closer. There was an art to looking intimidating, and being a full head taller certainly helped. Rowan had grown up around titans. People whose every word demanded attention. It wasn¡¯t a stretch to say he had the act down. Tilting his head slightly to the side, he put on a mask of indifference with just the slightest smidge of annoyance. ¡°Good,¡± he said. ¡°An honest disagreement is a great place to start.¡± 12 - An Open Conversation Killian studied Rowan for a moment before letting out a booming laugh. ¡°I like you, Jamis,¡± he said, shaking his head. ¡°No beating around the bush. You¡¯re right, an honest disagreement is a great place to start.¡± He glanced over his shoulder at one of the archers. ¡°Misk, bring the chairs, would you?¡± Rowan arched an eyebrow. ¡°You bring chairs to the Wilds?¡± Killian looked back at him with mild confusion, a smile playing on his lips. ¡°Of course,¡± he said. ¡°You¡¯d be surprised how often they come in handy.¡± So this is their angle, Rowan thought. Opportunists. He felt himself relax a bit. This was a negotiation now¡ªa familiar game he was more than comfortable playing. As they settled into their chairs, Killian glanced around the cavern with practiced ease. ¡°By my count, there are four dozen dead goblins here,¡± he began, his tone casual but assessing. ¡°With the hobgoblin and a shaman among them, the bounty is going to be substantial.¡± ¡°So this is a shakedown?¡± Rowan asked, leaning his staff against the chair. Killian smirked, shrugging. ¡°Call it what you like.¡± He drove his spear into the earth beside him, the blade slipping into the hard ground like it was a sheathe. ¡°We all need to make a living somehow.¡± His tone was light as he waved his team back. They nodded, relaxing and putting away their weapons, a few of them starting to chat amongst themselves. Killian shifted his gaze back to Rowan¡¯s group. ¡°Standard practice is to leave an expired quest up for a week. This one only went up today,¡± he pointed out. ¡°What you did was in poor form¡ªwe had every intention of completing it.¡± Rowan glanced at Annie. Litwick, like every city, had its own brand of politics. And those politics multiplied tenfold when adventures were involved. He wasn¡¯t familiar enough with the place yet, but Annie was, she¡¯d know where they stood. After all, the Guildmistress was her aunt, and there wasn¡¯t anyone in the city with more sway than her. They could have probably cut this short if they mentioned that little fact, but she wanted to keep it quiet. So that was what they did. Annie sighed, rolling her eyes. ¡°He¡¯s right. It was kind of a dick move,¡± she admitted, throwing a pointed glance toward Nemir. ¡°This genius picked it, and I didn¡¯t think to ask until we¡¯d already left the city.¡± Nemir frowned, folding his arms. ¡°It was marked as a priority quest. And with good reason too,¡± he said defensively ¡°If they¡¯d been left to fester for another week, the goblins would have finished building the village and we¡¯d have a larger problem on our hands.¡± Killian nodded. ¡°And the city will thank you for ridding it of this threat. But it wouldn¡¯t have been a week,¡± he continued. ¡°We came here today, and we need to be reimbursed for time lost.¡± Nemir opened his mouth, but Annie cut him off, nodding to Killan. ¡°Ten percent of the quest reward, no bounty.¡± Killian grinned, arching a brow. ¡°A strong opening.¡± The members of the Steel Fist, now at ease, produced more chairs. They unfolded them with quick, practiced movements, pulling out dried meat and canteens. Three thin, interlocked pieces of metal formed each chair, with a cloth connecting their ends¡ªa smart tool for seasoned adventurers. Annie moved to Rowan¡¯s side while the rest of their team took a few steps back. The healer in Killian¡¯s group wandered over to Silvia, eyeing the markings Rowan¡¯s whips left on the wall with open curiosity. ¡°Who did that?¡± she asked, her tone calm, as if she was speaking to an artist on the street, rather than standing in a cave among armed strangers. ¡°Uh, hi?¡± Silvia replied with a bemused smile, lowering her bow. ¡°I hope you¡¯re asking about those smaller holes,¡± she pointed them out. ¡°Because that would be me,¡± their archer said proudly. The tension slowly bled out of the Grove as well, their grips relaxing, and the adrenaline of the standoff retreating. The healer tilted her head, studying the distant marks. ¡°Those are quite far away,¡± she conceded. ¡°But no, I meant the larger channels. Who made those?¡± Rowan caught Killian¡¯s eyes, his brows rising in a silent question. ¡°What do you want me to say?¡± Killian replied with a shrug, taking a drink from a flask he¡¯d pulled from his belt. ¡°Healers are an odd bunch.¡± Silvia inclined her head towards Rowan. ¡°The guy with the stick,¡± she muttered, settling on the ground and grumpily examining her arrows. The healer gave Rowan a curious look. ¡°I¡¯d like to speak with you once your discussion is over,¡± she said, watching Silvia for another moment before sitting down beside her, tucking her robes neatly under her knees. Rowan smothered a grin and turned his attention back to Killian. ¡°We hired her for this mission,¡± he explained. ¡°And clerics aren¡¯t cheap.¡± ¡°Yes, but you didn¡¯t complete the quest. We did,¡± Annie said, keeping her tone firm. ¡°Once we report it, it¡¯ll get bumped up to Silver, and the reward won¡¯t just be a few gold. Ten percent is more than fair.¡± She folded her arms, leaning back. Rowan bit back a smile. She¡¯s really going for the throat ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± he conceded, sounding more amused than irritated ¡°But we could have. We¡¯ve taken out nests before. And more than a few shamans as well.¡± He paused, tapping his chin. ¡°How about twenty percent of the bounty, and you keep the full reward? Less hassle that way.¡± ¡°Twenty percent is steep, and we both know it,¡± Rowan cut in, reaching into his coat, hiding his hand from view and summoning the pouch filled with fangs. ¡°There¡¯s around fifty goblin¡¯s worth here,¡± he jangled the pouch. ¡°Three dozen of them were lesser goblins, with another dozen being Iron-ranks.¡± Killian¡¯s eyes flickered with greed. ¡°And the Core?¡±If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Rowan kept his expression steady. He¡¯d expected this¡ªthe Core was worth more than everything else combined. It was only natural he¡¯d focus on it. But lying through his teeth never failed him before. He met his gaze with practiced indifference. ¡°Gone,¡± he said. ¡°It dissipated as soon as we dug it out. Not enough mana inside it to hold its form.¡± Killian chuckled, obviously unconvinced. ¡°Convenient, that. Isn¡¯t it?¡± ¡°Convenient or not, that¡¯s what happened,¡± Rowan replied, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. ¡°So here¡¯s what I was thinking. You get twenty percent of the reward, and ten percent of the bounty¡ªnot including the hobgoblin.¡± Killian snorted. ¡°Leaving out the hobgoblin cuts our take in half,¡± he said, looking at Rowan appraisingly. ¡°Fifteen percent, across the board.¡± Rowan made a show of thinking it over. It wasn¡¯t much to him, all things considered. But that didn¡¯t mean he would just give the greedy adventurer what he wanted. ¡°Ten percent, including the hobgoblin,¡± he finally said. ¡°That should cover your ¡®inconvenience¡¯.¡± A tense silence fell between them as Killian weighed the offer, scratching his chin and muttering something under his breath. Finally, after a long pause, his easygoing smile returned. ¡°Deal!¡± He extended his hand. ¡°It¡¯s been a pleasure doing business with you.¡± Rowan shook his hand, keeping a straight face as Killian¡¯s grip tightened. The twenty levels of difference between them was apparent, but he didn¡¯t let it show. ¡°Likewise,¡± he replied, pulling his hand back. He untied the pouch, counting out the agreed-upon share and let the bloody fangs spill into Killian¡¯s waiting hands. ¡°That¡¯s about ten percent. Give or take a tooth,¡± he smirked, enjoying the grimace on the other man¡¯s face as he held the bounty. ¡°We¡¯ll deposit the gold from the reward into your accounts.¡± ¡°Fair enough.¡± Killian handed the bounty off to one of his teammates who quickly stored it away. Annie looked at Rowan, giving him a slight nod before returning her attention to the Silver-rank. ¡°So, what¡¯s your plan?¡± she asked, gesturing at his team. ¡°We¡¯re heading back to the city. You joining us?¡± Killian shook his head. ¡°We¡¯ll stay here for the night. There¡¯s a Stalker pack a few hours east of here we need to deal with. Better to see it done now when we¡¯re already out here,¡± a smile tugged at his lips. ¡°Before, you know, someone takes it out from under us,¡± he nodded to the team. ¡°Safe travels.¡± And with that, he strode away to join his team at the far end of the cavern, their makeshift camp slowly taking form. Rowan exhaled, glancing at Annie. ¡°That went well.¡± She gave him a considerate look. ¡°Yeah, I suppose it did.¡± She smiled. Nemir pulled the tip of his sword out of the ground, finally sheathing it across his back. He joined them, a slight frown on his face. ¡°Was it really necessary to pay him off? By right, it was our quest. They didn¡¯t earn a single copper of it.¡± Annie sighed. ¡°By right? No. But in a city like Litwick, unwritten rules matter¡ªespecially with Silver-ranks. There¡¯s only a few dozen of them, but they¡¯re the bulk of the forces keeping the surrounding Wilds in check,¡± she said, glancing at Killian¡¯s as they pulled out tents. ¡°Besides, they were actually on their way to complete it. A small payment keeps us on good terms.¡± Rowan kept his opinion to himself. This wasn¡¯t his city, and these weren¡¯t his people. What Killian did didn¡¯t sit right with him. There was little doubt in his mind that if Rowan hadn¡¯t been here, that ¡®cut¡¯ would have been much higher. But what ate away at him even more was the fact if the spearman had tried something, Rowan couldn¡¯t have done anything to stop it. That was something he was intent on changing. It¡¯s time to work on advancing, he decided. When we get back, I¡¯m not leaving the house until I get my Core to Orange. It was time to see it done. ¡°At least we kept the Core,¡± Omi added in with a sly grin. ¡°Nice work.¡± Rowan chuckled. ¡°Now we just need to find someone to buy it.¡± ¡°The Guild can handle that,¡± Annie said. ¡°They''ll take a cut, but it''s safer than finding someone on our own.¡± ¡°Sure, let¡¯s do¡ª¡± A tap on his shoulder cut him off. ¡°So you lied,¡± a voice said. Rowan jumped, spinning around. The healer stood behind him with a mildly perplexed look. ¡°Could I speak with you now?¡± Silvia flashed a wide smile. ¡°Her name¡¯s Zoe. And she¡¯s my new favorite person,¡± she said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. ¡°She¡¯s a bit¡­ sideways, but I like her.¡± Zoe frowned, sidestepping the attempted hug. ¡°We¡¯ve just met. That seems hasty.¡± ¡°I¡¯m a great judge of character,¡± Silvia shrugged. ¡°So am I,¡± Zoe¡¯s frown deepened, looking intently at the archer. She shook her head, glancing back at Rowan with that casual expression back on her face. ¡°I don¡¯t feel it,¡± she said, smoothing out her robe. Silvia¡¯s eyes sparkled. ¡°I love a challenge.¡± Rowan pinched the bridge of his nose. ¡°Hello, Zoe. Please excuse her,¡± he said with a sigh. ¡°I¡¯m Jamis. And sure, we can talk.¡± He¡¯d almost forgotten she was with them. But her knowing he¡¯d lied about the Core wasn¡¯t much of a concern¡ªhe doubted she¡¯d tell Killian, and even if she did, they wouldn¡¯t be able to find it. As he watched her, he noticed her sharp, green eyes¡ªthe kind that seemed to take in more than she let on. Her wheat-white hair contrasted their intensity, falling over her shoulders. Her robe was of quality make, with more than a few enchantments woven into it, alongside the heraldry of Eldara¡¯s priesthood. The Goddess of Nature¡¯s followers belonged to the distinct Orders; the Verdant Oak, focused on nurturing and guidance; the Emerald Fang, wardens that kept balance between predator and prey; and the Cleansing Light, the healers. The first was the largest. Their members, known as Guide¡¯s, followed Eldara¡¯s teachings the closest. There was nothing more nurturing than directly guiding a person down a Path. It was their way of praying, which fed divine power to their deity. The second were the Oak Wardens, focusing on guardianship and balance. Often enough, it was humanity that was the prey, making them fierce protectors of settlements. Healers were the rarest of the bunch. Following that path required a certain mindset. A fearlessness to head into danger with a determination not to harm anything. Eldara choose her healers carefully, making them a peculiar group. Rowan had always been distrusting of gods. A harvesting scheme for suckers, as his brother had liked to put it. His family had loosely followed Aeloria, the goddess of Magic. But they were never worshipers. It had been more a respectful acknowledgement, with no blessings involved. Rowan knew about the Gods and their orders well. Knowledge had been his only asset after he¡¯d resigned himself to being dull, so he¡¯d studied the world meticulously, wanting to be useful in any way he could. Without Awakening, he¡¯d expected a life of shortcomings. He didn¡¯t have a Core, meaning he had no spells to make him powerful. And no System, meaning no skills to make him useful. The fall of his House had changed that. Leaving him weary and despondent. Rowan had spent the year between that day and his Awakening in a haze of potions and low company. House Davar had been granted his family''s seat, and when they learned he was alive, they gave him a manor, a stipend, and dismissed him as irrelevant. Then the waiting started. Envisioning a knife in the dark everytime he closed his eyes. Whatever else, he was still the last living member of his house. Killing him was something he¡¯d expected them to do. But each day they didn¡¯t, he found himself growing angrier. They wouldn¡¯t do it, he¡¯d realized. Because it didn¡¯t matter. He hadn¡¯t Awakened, meaning he wasn¡¯t an Heir. The title of Duke would pass on to whoever was holding their throne. The Silent Seat. Rowan was left to do whatever he wanted. Because he was utterly powerless. An object to pity, and occasionally, ridicule. It hadn¡¯t been that long since that changed. The day Rowan Awakened, he¡¯d also gotten his Core, the Vault, and his Trait. But most importantly, momentum. Burning down the mansion had been strangely cathartic, and it had the added bonus of making people think he died. His Awakening had changed things, in more ways than one. It wouldn¡¯t have gone unnoticed, and it wouldn¡¯t have been long before House Davar realized that the reason they weren¡¯t getting the [Title] was because someone else already had it. That was when the knives would come. The Vault held teleportation tokens to all the different regions in the kingdom, and the Verdant Vale was perfect for what he needed. Distance, and anonymity. Rowan had thought about going to one of his family''s allies. There were House¡¯s he thought he could trust, but how far does loyalty really go? The only place he knew for certain he¡¯d be safe was at the Ascendant Academy. There was someone there whose loyalty Rowan didn¡¯t doubt, but going to it wasn¡¯t in the cards yet. The tokens send him to a region, not a specific location. It had taken him a week to find Litwick the first time he¡¯d used one, and he¡¯d almost died more than once during the journey. The only thing that kept him alive was barely managing to master [Burning Hands], and Kai helping out. He was much stronger now, but most of the kingdom was still a death sentence to him. The Academy was in the middle of the Onyx sands, where a shaman like the one he¡¯d fought would be considered at the very bottom of the pecking order. Monsters at Gold-rank or higher roamed the region, meaning there was a bare minimum level of power Rowan needed to reach before attempting a trip there. He took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. Zoe¡¯s voice brought him back to the present. ¡°Are you alright?¡± she asked, tilting her head. ¡°You seem¡­ strained.¡± ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± Rowan shook his head, clearing his thoughts. ¡°I had my leg crushed a little bit ago, which wasn¡¯t all that pleasant. But I¡¯m alright.¡± Her gaze flickered down, a faint glow illuminating her eyes. ¡°Hmm, quite the potion,¡± she muttered softly. ¡°Rare quality, if I had to guess.¡± Rowan¡¯s brows rose slightly. She could tell that much? ¡°Anyway,¡± Annie interjected, giving Rowan a meaningful look. ¡°We¡¯re losing daylight, so whatever you need to talk about, make it quick.¡± She leaned closer to him and whispered. ¡°And you still need to meditate. I¡¯d like to leave here sooner rather than later with you capable of throwing something other than a firework.¡± Rowan nodded in agreement. She was right. He¡¯d feel better with some mana in his Core, and on the way back, he wouldn¡¯t need to save it. Zoe adjusted her robe with careful deliberation. She looked a bit younger than him, but straightened herself like she was giving a formal speech. ¡°I will try to be concise,¡± she began. Her voice softened, though her gaze remained steady. ¡°Would it be possible for me to join your team?¡± 13 - Sideways Rowan frowned in confusion, glancing at Annie and seeing his expression reflected back. Before either of them could say anything, Silvia piped up. ¡°I vote yes.¡± Zoe nodded to the rowdy archer. ¡°Thank you,¡± she said, taking in the rest of the group. ¡°I¡¯ve been in Litwick for a week, and I haven¡¯t been able to find a capable team at the right level of strength. The temple has paired me with a few different parties, but none of them are suitable for what I require.¡± ¡°And that would be?¡± Annie frowned, crossing her arms. She didn¡¯t seem all that enthused by the opportunity, but Rowan found himself curious. Having a healer would be a massive boon. And with the way Zoe had asked, it seemed like she was interested in a more permanent arrangement. Annie¡¯s gruff approach didn¡¯t seem to deter the healer. ¡°Two things,¡± she continued. ¡°Firstly, a smaller group. Between four and six members. More than that and the chance of grievous injury drops significantly.¡± Omi snorted. ¡°You want us to get hurt?¡± Zoe tilted her head. ¡°Not you particularly, no. It doesn''t matter to me who gets injured, as long as I get to rectify it,¡± she looked back at Annie. ¡°And secondly, any team I join needs to contain someone capable of protecting me from harm.¡± ¡°Told you. Sideways.¡± Silvia''s smile widened. ¡°I love it.¡± ¡°I appreciate your vote of confidence,¡± Zoe nodded, seemingly not bothered by being called strange. ¡°Your group fits both of those criteria. You are obviously capable, judging by the amount of dead goblins in this cavern. And having a mage among your number heightens your combat ability to an enviable degree.¡± Nemir stepped closer, his brow squinting in thought. ¡°Having a healer join our group would be a boon,¡± he said, shooting Annie a questioning glance. As much as the swordsman was the de-facto leader of the team, a decision as big as taking in another member wasn¡¯t something he could make on his own. ¡°It would let us take on more dangerous quests,¡± she muttered, rubbing her chin, appraising the white-haired woman. ¡°But we don¡¯t know anything about you. And this isn¡¯t the place for a discussion like this one.¡± Zoe nodded. ¡°What time would be amenable to you?¡± ¡°Are you staying here, or joining us back to the city?¡± Annie asked. ¡°My contract states I am to assist the Steel Fist in completing a quest. With the goblins no longer here, that means helping them with the Stalker nest,¡± she sighed. ¡°Unfortunately, I will be spending the night here.¡± ¡°Alright, then we can have this conversation once we¡¯re all back in the city,¡± Annie said. ¡°That gives us some time to talk among ourselves.¡± Zoe nodded. ¡°Thank you for your consideration.¡± Rowan found himself smiling. There was something strangely disarming about the girl. Like she was in her own little world, unconcerned with anything besides what caught her eye. If she does join us, we¡¯ll be more than qualified to take on Silver-rank quests. And if Nemir advances, we might be one of the strongest teams in the city. Having a mage, a healer, and a warrior with an Aura would allow them to venture deeper into the Wilds. To take on threats that would in turn push the rest of the team closer to advancing. Lost in thought, Rowan didn¡¯t notice as Zoe took a step closer to him, eyeing him with a curious expression. ¡°You are strange,¡± she said, slowly circling him. ¡°Umm, right back at you?¡± He replied, watching the scene in amusement. ¡°I can sense a well of power inside you, yet for some reason, your Core is still infantile,¡± she stopped moving, standing in front of Rowan with an appraising look in her eyes. ¡°Are you incompetent?¡± Omi burst out laughing. ¡°I¡¯m with you Sil. She¡¯s got my vote.¡± Rowan¡¯s eye twitched. I feel like I should be offended. Calling him incompetent had struck a nerve, but she¡¯d said it with such a calm curiosity that Rowan couldn¡¯t help but shake his head. ¡°No, I don¡¯t think I am,¡± he chuckled. ¡°Are you asking because of my age?¡± Zoe nodded. ¡°Yes. Mages usually Awaken earlier than other people. Meaning you had years to advance your Core. So why didn¡¯t you?¡± Her approach might have been disarming, but that didn¡¯t mean he would go spilling his secrets to her. Especially considering how dangerous that knowledge could be. I¡¯m tempted to tell her I¡¯ve only been a mage for less than half a year just to see the look on her face. But that seems like a slight overreaction to being called incompetent. He could see the rest of the team waiting for his answer. Rowan appreciated that none of them had pried into his past, but now that someone else had asked a question, their curiosity was almost palpable. ¡°It¡¯s a long story. One that I don¡¯t feel like telling right now,¡± he said with a small smile. ¡°Suffice it to say, I had my reasons.¡± Zoe listened intently to his answer, taking it in stride. ¡°I would be interested in hearing it when you feel comfortable telling it,¡± she said, giving the team one final glance before walking away to the camp Killian and his team had set up.This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. Rowan sighed, running a hand through his hair. ¡°She¡¯s infuriatingly sincere.¡± Annie snorted. ¡°Alright, we¡¯ve wasted enough time. How long do you need before you have some mana to throw around?¡± He pulled his focus to his Core. His reserves were at less than a tenth. The potion had been steadily doing its work in the background, but without meditating, it was slow going. ¡°I¡¯ll be good to go in half an hour or so,¡± he said. ¡°We should be able to make it back before nightfall.¡± ¡°Then get to it,¡± she shooed him away. ¡°I¡¯ve had enough of dimly lit caverns for a few weeks. At least.¡± ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am,¡± he saluted, moving away to a quiet corner. Kai flew down, no longer needing to hide. Rowan hadn¡¯t wanted the little bugger to be near in case a fight broke out. He was much more suited to surprise attacks. His familiar settled in his lap, nuzzling his beak into Rowan¡¯s chest. He smiled, lightly stroking his soft feathers and closing his eyes. Meditating wasn¡¯t his favorite thing in the world, but there were some things that made it bearable. . . . The trek back to Litwick was thankfully uneventful. They ran across another pack of Vinesnakes, but with Rowan no longer holding back, it took less than a minute for them to turn into charred corpses. ¡°Well, that was certainly an eventful outing,¡± Nemir said, his broad shoulders finally relaxing as they entered the safety of the city walls. ¡°What¡¯s the plan? Are we turning in the quest right away?¡± ¡°Why wait,¡± Omi shrugged. ¡°Might as well get it done with.¡± ¡°Do all of us need to go?¡± Silvia grumbled, raising an arm, wincing as she took a sniff. ¡°I¡¯m sweaty, smelly, and covered in blood. What I want is a nice relaxing bath, and a tall glass of something strong.¡± ¡°I¡¯m with her,¡± Annie said, wiping the dust from her face. ¡°You boys can take care of it. We¡¯re gonna go get cleaned up,¡± she put her arm around Sil¡¯s shoulders, walking away before the three of them could protest. Kai flew after them, landing on Annie¡¯s shoulder and shaking his wings. Silvia immediately started scratching his beak, and the three of them left. Omi watched them go with a frown, staring down at his tattered appearance, his leather armor scratched up and bloody. ¡°Can I¡­?¡± he asked, glancing at Nemir. The swordsman sighed. ¡°Sure,¡± he glanced at Rowan. ¡°What about you?¡± Rowan shrugged. ¡°I¡¯ll go with you,¡± he smirked. ¡°Who knows who you¡¯ll piss off without someone to keep you in check.¡± Omi snorted. ¡°Try not to get yourselves killed,¡± he waved, walking away. Nemir frowned, crossing his arms. ¡°I still think we shouldn¡¯t have needed to pay them off,¡± he muttered. ¡°The Guild exists for a reason. Letting quests expire should be discouraged, not rewarded.¡± ¡°It¡¯s just gold,¡± Rowan said as they made their way towards the Guild Hall. ¡°It isn¡¯t about the gold,¡± Nemir muttered. Rowan sighed. ¡°I didn¡¯t like it any more than you did,¡± he said, eyeing the swordsman. ¡°It felt suspiciously close to losing. And I think neither of us enjoy that.¡± Nemir grimaced. ¡°Exactly.¡± He clenched his fist. ¡°If I had my Aura, that wouldn¡¯t have happened.¡± Rowan wasn¡¯t so sure that was true. He¡¯d been there, and Killian hadn¡¯t hesitated. Even when there was a mage involved. Having a Silver-rank on top of that would have probably cut down on the amount they gave him, but Rowan doubted it¡¯d cut it down to zero. ¡°Don¡¯t beat yourself up over it,¡± Rowan said, rummaging through his pockets, and pulling out a handful of silver coins. He threw them into a hat in front of a youth performing on the street, skillfully plucking away at the strings of a lyre. The boy¡¯s eyes widened in surprise at the amount, and he muttered a quick thank you. ¡°It¡¯s just how things work here,¡± Rowan said as they continued further into the city, the smell of freshly cooked meat hitting their noses. His stomach rumbling. ¡°Annie didn¡¯t look angry, she looked more annoyed. Which definitely wouldn¡¯t have been the case if they¡¯d been doing something really untoward,¡± he said, walking around a bickering pair of merchants. Both were selling basic healing potions¡ªwhich were the equivalent of throwing a mildly effective herb into boiling water. The amount of impurities in them meant the cooldown between uses was around a month. A substantial difference from the one week that Omi now needed to wait, and an even larger difference between the one day Rowan would need to. They were capable of dealing with superficial wounds, while the higher-grade potions healed wounds like the one Rowan suffered with ease. But Litwick wasn¡¯t exactly filled with skilled alchemists. Or blacksmiths. Or really any profession of note. So potions like these ones ended up in use more often than they should have. There weren¡¯t many adventurers that risked venturing into the Wilds with an active cooldown. Meaning that at any given moment, a number of them were out of commission. Nemir sighed. ¡°You¡¯re right. But I don¡¯t have to like it.¡± ¡°No, you don¡¯t.¡± Rowan chuckled. ¡°It¡¯ll even out. Pretty soon, you¡¯ll be a Silver-rank too, and then you get to throw your weight around,¡± he smirked, nudging him with his shoulder. ¡°So enough righteous indignation. We have more important things to talk about.¡± Nemir laughed, his posture relaxing. ¡°Let¡¯s hope so.¡± A hungry expression crossed his face¡ªone Rowan recognized all too well. ¡°It was right there.¡± Nemir whispered. ¡°At the end, when I deflected its last strike.¡± His eyes closed, his tone softening as if he were reliving the moment. ¡°I¡¯ve been pushing at this mountain for years, even before I Awakened. But during that fight, I finally felt something give.¡± Nemir rarely opened up like this. Over the past few months, Rowan had suspected the swordsman came from nobility¡ªhis bearing and discipline hinted at it¡ªbut he¡¯d never outright said so. This all but confirmed it. ¡°Which one are you going for?¡± Rowan asked. It could be Vigor, he thought. Nemir certainly has the stature for it. Rowan¡¯s gaze swept over his companion. He himself was taller than most, but he still had to crane his head upwards to look at Nemir. Being tall and broad helped with Vigor because there was simply more to work with. It made understanding the Concept easier¡ªmore tangible¡ªbecause the body itself became the foundation of power. It probably isn¡¯t Haste, he decided. While Nemir was quick for his size, besides Rowan, he was the slowest member of their team. It¡¯s probably Might, Rowan concluded. That¡¯s what the hobgoblin had. Fighting against it is what led to his breakthrough. Might was straightforward but deceptively complex. To comprehend it, a warrior needed to have complete mastery over their body. But more than that, they needed to embody it. To be Mighty, in the truest sense of the word. Nemir¡¯s fight against the hobgoblin wasn¡¯t just a clash of strength but a test of refinement. Rowan had grown up surrounded by warriors who had mastered their Aura¡¯s. Even as a child, he¡¯d become familiar with their weight. Each one was distinct in its own way. Yet, as different as they were, all of them originated from the same three root Concepts: Strength, Dexterity, and Vitality. Manifesting an Aura outside the body wasn¡¯t natural. It required not only incredible control, but also an immense willpower. To shape an Aura around a blade, spear, or even bow meant treating the weapon as an extension of the self. It wasn¡¯t enough to swing harder or faster. The wielder had to connect their Intent to the Concept they were chasing. Rowan¡¯s father had once described it as trying to paint on water¡ªimpossible, until you understood the medium. ¡°Might,¡± Nemir said, his voice cutting through Rowan¡¯s reminiscing. ¡°It was always going to be the path I followed.¡± He smiled faintly, glancing at his friend. ¡°Might suits you,¡± Rowan said. ¡°It¡¯s steady, reliable. A shield, and a hammer.¡± Nemir nodded, his expression distant but determined. ¡°I¡¯ll get there,¡± he said. ¡°Sooner rather than later.¡± Rowan felt his own desire for advancement flare up. He¡¯d been avoiding it. Pushing it off in favor of either exploring the Wilds, or mastering his spells in the Plateau. Working on his Core for the next week would be dull and monotonous, but it was time to get it done. The five levels he¡¯d get for advancing to Orange would certainly prove useful, though they were secondary to gaining another affinity. His fight against the shaman had left him closer to death than he¡¯d care to admit. And if at all possible, dying was something Rowan wanted to avoid. There was only one way to make sure of that. Tomorrow, he decided. No stopping until I¡¯m done. It had already been a long day, and with the sun setting, Rowan was feeling exhaustion slowly creeping in. After a good night¡¯s rest, he¡¯d get started. But there was something else they needed to do first. They uncovered which tribe was moving into the region, and that was a piece of information the Guild would definitely want to know. His feet dragged as they walked through the streets, making their way to the Guild Hall. When they reached it, Rowan pushed open the heavy doors, walking into the rowdy tavern. 14 - Rewards The Guild Hall was customarily full. The din of laughter, clinking mugs, and raised voices filled the air. Rowdy adventurers occupied most of the tables, their weapons leaning against the walls or resting within easy reach. Swords and spears were the most common, but Rowan saw more than a few stranger choices. His eyes caught a pair of intricately braided whips coiled neatly beside a table, a hefty warhammer leaning against it, more suited to smashing boulders than monsters. Still, the mountain of a man beside it looked more than capable of wielding it." The aroma of roasted meat and spiced ale mingled with the faint tang of sweat and steel. Serving staff weaved deftly between tables, balancing trays of food and drink. A few adventurers were already deep in their cups, their laughter booming above the general noise, while others pored over quest boards or bartered loudly amongst themselves. Rowan and Nemir stepped inside. ¡°Are we grabbing a drink?¡± Nemir asked, looking around for a free table. Rowan liked that idea. In fact, he liked it a lot. After the day they had, something strong and stiff sounded perfect. ¡°Let¡¯s deal with the quest first,¡± he said, nodding towards the counter where a Guild attendant sat. ¡°I¡¯d rather get it out of the way. Then we can go and have one.¡± ¡°Or two,¡± Nemir smirked, bumping him with his elbow. Rowan chuckled. ¡°Or two.¡± There were three Guild attendants working at this hour, with two of them occupied by other groups. They made their way to a stern-looking woman sitting behind a massive slab of oak, her brown hair tied into a no-nonsense braid. She was sorting through a stack of papers, her quill moving with skilled precision. Her sharp eyes flicked up as they approached, taking in their roughed-up armor and mud-stained boots. ¡°What can I do for you?¡± she asked, casually setting her papers aside. Nemir rummaged through his coat, pulling out the flier they took off the quest board earlier today, placing it in front of her. ¡°We¡¯ve completed this quest,¡± he said. ¡°The Crimson Grove.¡± The attendant nodded, taking the piece of paper and quickly reading through it. ¡°Proof?¡± ¡°About that,¡± Rowan said, dropping the pouch of goblin fangs on the table with a soft thud. ¡°The quest was a bit wrong about the number of monsters. We¡¯d like to have it re-evaluated.¡± The woman¡¯s eyes narrowed, untying the string and looking inside. ¡°Hmm,¡± she muttered, pouring the contents of the bag onto a tray and separating them into smaller piles. ¡°Thirty-eight¡­ forty-two¡­ forty-four.¡± When she was done, she looked back up at them, a small smile on her face. ¡°A bit, he says,¡± she chuckled. ¡°It seems your team had quite the day. Thirty-five lesser goblins, Bronze-rank, Nine normal goblins, Iron-rank, and a hobgoblin to boot.¡± With the fangs they gave to Killian, that was a bit off, but this next part would make up for it. Rowan returned her smile. ¡°There¡¯s one more thing.¡± He looked around, making sure no one was watching before pulling out the shaman¡¯s Core. A piece of cloth covered it, concealing the faint, orange light that filled it. Rowan guessed there was less than a tenth of the shaman''s Earth mana left inside, and around a quarter of the Wind mana. It wasn¡¯t anything special as far as Core¡¯s went, but it was one nonetheless. The attendant slowly unfurled the cloth, her eyes widening at the sight. She quickly covered it up, glancing at Rowan with an appraising gaze. ¡°A shaman,¡± she said slowly. ¡°And a hobgoblin.¡± She closed her eyes, letting out a long, drawn-out sigh. ¡°Well, shit.¡± Rowan barely suppressed a laugh. ¡°I¡¯m guessing you¡¯ll up the quest to Silver?¡± ¡°Yeah, yeah, of course,¡± she muttered absentmindedly. ¡°It would have been Silver III with just the hobgoblin, but with a shaman thrown in the mix, I think Silver V is more appropriate.¡± Opening a drawer, the attendant cleaned up her table, putting away the goblin fangs. She carefully picked up the Core, placing it next to them before closing it back up. The faint glow of enchantments flared to life as it locked. She took a moment, doing calculations in her head. ¡°Thirty gold for the lesser goblins, fifty for the Iron-ranks, and two-fifty for the hobgoblin.¡± That seems fair, Rowan thought. ¡°What about the Core?¡± he asked. ¡°Someone will need to appraise it, but it shouldn¡¯t go below five hundred. Depending on how intact it is, you might get up to a thousand.¡± Rowan glanced at Nemir. ¡°A thousand gold for a day''s work,¡± he smiled. ¡°Not bad.¡± He chuckled. ¡°The rest of the team is going to be thrilled.¡± ¡°And you¡¯re looking at another five hundred from the quest reward,¡± the attendant pointed out, throwing away the old flier and quickly writing out a new one. This time with the correct information. After skimming it over, she nodded to herself, stamped it, and placed it in another drawer." This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡°Would you like it deposited into your party¡¯s account, or to withdraw it?¡± ¡°Could you transfer fifty of that over to the Steel Fist? A Silver-rank by the name of Killian is the leader,¡± he asked. ¡°And keeping it in the account is fine.¡± They made a deal, and just because Rowan didn¡¯t like it didn¡¯t mean he wouldn¡¯t do it. The attendant arched an eyebrow, glancing at him with a knowing expression. ¡°Just fifty?¡± she asked. ¡°Yes, just fifty.¡± Rowan smiled. She stood up and moved to the back wall, pulling out folders filled with what Rowan assumed were party compositions, looking for Killian¡¯s team. ¡°That¡¯s a good haul,¡± Nemir said, a satisfied expression on his face. ¡°It should come out to three hundred gold per person. More than enough for everyone to buy the equipment they need.¡± ¡°What about you?¡± Rowan asked. ¡°My gear is adequate for now. I¡¯m probably going to buy a skill manual instead.¡± He nodded. ¡°Pushing something to Proficient?¡± ¡°Actually, I was thinking of trying to advance [Crescent Strike].¡± Rowan¡¯s eyes widened a fraction. ¡°Really? Over [Greatsword Mastery]?¡± It was surprising that Nemir was trying to advance a skill to Expert at such a low level. Most warriors got their first one well on their way to Gold, at Silver III or above. Going for it at Iron V was an impressive feat. ¡°I won¡¯t need a manual for that one,¡± he said, a cocky expression on his face. Rowan laughed. ¡°That¡¯s the spirit.¡± ¡°And you?¡± the swordsman asked, casually leaning against the table. ¡°What does a mage spend his gold on?¡± ¡°Plenty of things,¡± Rowan shrugged, watching the attendant as she rummaged through her files. ¡°Spells are expensive, and potions don¡¯t come cheap either.¡± What he said was definitely true. Acquiring spells was a problem all mages faced. It was the reason most ended up in the employ of the various noble houses. Knowledge was a resource, and gaining it wasn''t always simple. But that didn¡¯t apply to him. The Vault held tomes for every tier one affinity, mostly Whispers and Murmurs, but there was a single Chant-level spell for each. Just one of those alone was worth thousands of gold¡ªa number most people born outside the nobility didn¡¯t have access to. And that¡¯s just inside the first chamber, he thought. I¡¯m sure Ode¡¯s and Epic¡¯s are deeper in. I just need to get strong enough to get them. ¡°Potions, yes,¡± Nemir said, throwing a knowing glance toward his ring. ¡°Would you be willing to sell a few? Rare potions are hard to come by out here.¡± He waved him off. ¡°I¡¯ll just give everyone a few. Honestly, I should have done that already.¡± Nemir¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°Are you sure? That¡¯s a¡­ substantial gift.¡± It really wasn¡¯t, but explaining that would just lead to more questions, ones Rowan still didn¡¯t feel like addressing. ¡°A shorter healing cooldown means less downtime. Which means more quests,¡± he shrugged. ¡°A few potions seems like a small price to pay for that.¡± Nemir frowned. ¡°We¡¯d need to compensate you for them. It just wouldn¡¯t feel right not giving anything in return. Maybe we can revisit how we distribute quest rewards?¡± he sighed. ¡°You¡¯re already taking a much smaller cut than you could be getting. As a mage, you could go to any team and ask for half, and they¡¯d jump over one another for an opportunity to accept.¡± Rowan had an urge to roll his eyes but decided against it. Pride was a prickly thing, and simply dismissing it wouldn¡¯t solve the underlying issue. ¡°Here¡¯s the thing,¡± he said, clasping the burly swordsman on the shoulder. ¡°We¡¯re a team, right?¡± Nemir nodded. ¡°Yes, but that doesn''t¡ª¡± Rowan stopped him, raising a hand. ¡°That¡¯s all there is to it. My goal is to get stronger, the same as yours. Helping you helps me. And besides, I¡¯m not going to lose sleep over a few healing potions, no matter their rarity. Trust me.¡± I could give everyone in this city a dozen of them and I wouldn¡¯t even feel it, he thought, keeping the specifics to himself. The attendant returned a few moments later, a file in her hand. ¡°It¡¯s done. Your deposit will reflect the updated amount shortly,¡± she said. Her stern expression softened slightly. ¡°And good work out there. Encountering a hobgoblin would be too much for most Iron-ranked teams, let alone a shaman. Keep it up.¡± Nemir nodded, accepting the compliment with a small smile. ¡°There was one more thing,¡± he said, pulling out the piece of cloth with the goblin tribe¡¯s sigil sewn into it. ¡°We think this may be the tribe moving into the region.¡± The attendant frowned as she took the cloth. ¡°Red Fangs,¡± she muttered, shaking her head. ¡°Would one of you be willing to speak to someone about what you encountered? Any information you have might prove useful.¡± ¡°Go ahead and grab us a table,¡± Nemir said, accepting the task. ¡°I¡¯ll speak with them. Shouldn¡¯t take long.¡± Rowan let out a sigh of relief. Recounting the fight was the last thing he wanted to do right now. ¡°Be quick about it,¡± he said with a grin, clapping Nemir on the shoulder. ¡°I¡¯ll make sure there¡¯s a drink waiting for you when you get back.¡± Rowan left Nemir to his task and went to find a table. It took longer than he would have liked. The Guild Hall buzzed with activity, adventurers either reveling in their wins or trying to forget their losses. Eventually, he spotted one tucked into a quiet corner and made his way over. A server appeared almost as soon as Rowan sat down, balancing a tray filled with empty mugs and half-eaten plates. ¡°What¡¯ll it be?¡± he asked. ¡°Two ales, and something warm to eat,¡± Rowan replied, flipping him a silver coin. He gave him a quick nod, disappearing into the bustling crowd. . . . Nemir returned just as the server arrived with their drinks, setting the mugs down with practiced ease. He sank into the seat opposite Rowan, his expression thoughtful but not tense. ¡°They¡¯re taking it seriously,¡± Nemir said, lifting his mug with a faint smile. ¡°To surviving another day.¡± Rowan raised his own in reply, the faint clink of their mugs cutting through the din. ¡°I¡¯ll drink to that.¡± They drank deeply, the bitter taste lingering as it warmed them from within. ¡°Did they say anything new?¡± Rowan asked, leaning back in his chair. Nemir nodded. ¡°They¡¯ve been keeping tabs on the Red Fangs for a while. We¡¯re the first team to bring in proof, but they were on the short list of candidates for what tribe it might have been,¡± he sighed. ¡°Knowing doesn''t change all that much. We¡¯re still in for a Monster Surge.¡± Nemir¡¯s lips thinned. ¡°And it isn¡¯t just here. The Guild¡¯s been noticing similar patterns across the kingdom. They¡¯re stretched thin already. If this keeps escalating, cities like Litwick are going to be in serious trouble.¡± Rowan mulled that over in silence, sipping his drink. A Monster Surge wasn¡¯t a problem they could deal with. In fact, it wasn¡¯t a problem anyone could deal with. The Wilds were massive, and when something managed to get through the Walls, it caused a chain reaction. ¡°Not much we can do besides get stronger,¡± he said. Nemir grunted in agreement, setting his mug down. ¡°Which brings us to the next topic¡ªZoe.¡± Rowan smirked. ¡°I was wondering when you¡¯d bring her up.¡± ¡°What do you think of her?¡± he asked, his brows furrowed in thought. He didn¡¯t have to think long about his answer. ¡°She¡¯d be a massive boon to the team,¡± he said, resting his elbows on the table. ¡°Having a healer would open up a lot of opportunities for us. Better quests, tougher opponents, deeper expeditions into the Wilds. And from what little we¡¯ve seen, she seems competent.¡± Nemir nodded. ¡°I agree. But there¡¯s a risk too. We don¡¯t know her well. And healers¡­ well, you know how they can get.¡± ¡°She called me incompetent,¡± Rowan pointed out. ¡°That was rude and uncalled for.¡± Nemir laughed. ¡°I don¡¯t think she called you incompetent. She just asked you if you were.¡± ¡°That might be even worse,¡± Rowan grumbled. ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll forgive her after she saves your life a few dozen times,¡± Nemir said, taking a sip of his drink. ¡°She¡¯ll definitely make us stronger. If we¡¯re careful and set the right expectations, I think she¡¯ll fit right in. Besides,¡± he added with a wry smile. ¡°Sil and Omi already seem to like her. That¡¯s half the battle right there.¡± Rowan chuckled, nodding. ¡°True enough. And Annie¡¯s practical. She¡¯ll come around once she weighs the benefits.¡± They drank again, letting the conversation drift to lighter topics. The tension from the day¡¯s events finally started to ebb, leaving a sense of comfortable camaraderie in its place. . . . The walk back to the house was quiet, the streets of Litwick dimly lit by flickering lanterns. Most shops were closed for the night, the people spending their evenings either at home or in one of the many taverns the city had. Rowan let his mind drift as he approached the modest estate he was renting. He paused at the door, glancing up at the stars. Zoe might be just what we need, he thought. A healer would make us stronger¡ªenough to face bigger threats, take on higher-ranked quests. Allow us to push ourselves to the limit. But strength didn¡¯t come cheap. Rowan stayed in the entryway, leaning against the wall. He closed his eyes, focusing on the faint hum of his Core. It¡¯s time, he thought. I¡¯ve been putting it off long enough. The soft red glow of his Core felt like a promise¡ªand a challenge. Advancing to Orange would be the first real step Rowan took to achieving his goals. It was the key to his survival. To strength. To the answers he was chasing. No stopping until I¡¯m done, he resolved. Tomorrow, the real work began. 15 - A Week Well Spent Rowan sat under a tall oak, his legs crossed atop a worn cushion, his back resting against the rough bark. The soft rustle of leaves above him and the distant chirping of birds were his only companions. His other one deciding he had better things to do than watch him sit still. Kai had left him to his devices over the last two days. Two days of mind-numbing boredom, interrupted only by his steady progress.
Core: Red [74%] ¡ú Core: Red [83%]
He smiled to himself, giddy despite the monotony. All that much closer to getting a second affinity. For someone starved of magic for so long, finally wielding it felt intoxicating. Like a child with a new toy, he was reluctant to put it down. He¡¯d already decided on Wind. Fire, his first affinity, provided all the offense he needed for now. It was raw power, destructive and unyielding¡ªa perfect sword. What he needed next was a shield. Wind, Earth, and Water could all fit that role in different ways, but the latter two relied on barriers¡ªreactive defenses like [Earthen Dome] or [Swirling Vortex]. Rowan didn¡¯t want to be stuck in one place, hiding behind walls. A mage needed speed to survive, and Wind offered just that. Movement abilities like [Windwalk] and [Tailwind] would let him control the battlefield, positioning himself where his spells would be most effective. That was why he¡¯d invested so heavily in Dexterity. Most mages funneled everything into Intelligence and Willpower to boost their mana pool and recovery, but Rowan¡¯s stats were naturally higher. His heritage wasn¡¯t just for show. Being descended from a long line of very powerful people left its mark.
Name: Rowan Undomniel Athlain
Title: [Duke of Eiselyth]
Trait: [Immortal Soul]
Core: Red [83%] [5 Levels]
Affinity: Fire
Body: Bronze I [1 Level]
Level: 6
Strength: 14
Dexterity: 25
Vitality: 20
Intelligence: 30
Willpower: 22
Focus: 17
His stats were more than three times higher than average. And while that didn¡¯t make all that much difference in the grand scheme of things, at his level, it was a major boon. Twenty-five Dexterity for a mage of his advancement was absurd, and Wind would allow him to push that advantage further, letting him outpace warriors at Iron, and even challenge Silver-ranks. After what happened in the cave, that was a comfort he wanted to have. Even at full strength, Rowan wasn¡¯t sure he¡¯d have been able to handle Killian. Having Wind¡¯s mobility would go a long way towards changing that. And it wasn¡¯t just Wind¡¯s immediate usefulness that drew him in. Rowan was thinking ahead¡ªto the tier-two affinity it would let him pursue: Lightning. It wasn¡¯t a widespread school of magic. Few could afford the cost, whether in mana, coin, or personal risk. Lighting was quick, unpredictable, and lethally powerful¡ªa combination that had claimed more than a few reckless mages. It was exactly what Rowan needed. Mastering [Fireball] would take care of raw power for now, but Wind would cover speed. If someone¡ªor something¡ªlike Killian got close during a real fight, Rowan would be ready. He sighed, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. Dwelling on that had the tendency to put him in a foul mood. But for what he was doing, he needed focus. The sunlight filtering through the branches above cast shifting shadows on his face, soothing in their simplicity. Rowan adjusted his position against the tree, his cushion softening the rough edges of hours spent sitting on it. Looking inward, he followed the flow of his channels as they twisted and turned throughout his body, all leading to a spot just below his stomach. In his mind¡¯s eye, his Core burned with a soft red glow¡ªa definite improvement over where it had been when he started, but still far from Orange. Alright. Let¡¯s get started, he thought, focusing his Intent. Willing his Core to grow. The familiar pressure settled over him like an invisible weight, but it passed almost instantly. Rowan smiled. His Trait allowed him to do something no other mage could. Advance, seemingly endlessly. The soul strain that stopped others not affecting him in the slightest. Most mages advanced their Core in slow, steady increments. Half an hour a day of focused meditation was considered safe, and an hour, manageable. Rowan was doing twenty. A schedule that would have been suicidal for anyone but him. His [Immortal Soul] took the stress in stride, barely acknowledging it. In theory, he could have advanced within a month if he¡¯d committed entirely. But that would have meant no time to master spells, and while Core growth was crucial, spells were far more practical¡ªand infinitely more fun. Not to mention that after just two days of intense focus, Rowan was already feeling the effects.Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. Not physically. Twenty Vitality made it so that forty hours of sitting didn¡¯t make him exhausted, but mentally, he was drained. The excitement of seeing his Core grow wore off after a few hours, replaced by the sheer monotony of the task. He pushed forward anyways. Grow, Rowan thought, willing his Core to expand. The response was almost imperceptible, a tiny shift in the red light that flickered in his mind¡¯s eye. Barely noticeable. But it was progress. A thousand more of those and he would be done for the day. Grow. Again, his Core responded, straining against his Intent before yielding. The outside world began to fade away¡ªthe rustle of leaves, the warmth of the sun, even the faint ache in his legs. All of it took a step back in favor of the faint pulsing emanating from within him. . . . As the sun slowly began to set, Rowan heard a knock on his door. He blinked open his eyes. Wiping away the drowsiness that had set in. His muscles protested as he stood up, cracking his spine and neck with a low groan. Thank the Gods, he thought, grateful to whoever it was that came to distract him. Right now, he wouldn¡¯t have minded if Killian had come to visit. At least that would have been interesting.
Core: Red [83%] ¡ú Core: Red [86%]
Three percent seemed like such a small reward for the work he¡¯d put in, but Rowan couldn¡¯t complain. Others would kill to be capable of progressing this fast. Looking around, he tried to find his familiar. Kai came and went a dozen times over the last few hours. Most likely terrorizing his neighbors or stealing from those unfortunate enough to leave their meals unattended. Not seeing him, Rowan ran a hand across his shirt, smoothing out the wrinkles. Just because I feel slightly manic doesn''t mean I have to look it. Another knock. This one more incessant. Walking inside, Rowan made his way to the door and opened it. ¡°Took you long enough,¡± Annie muttered, a frustrated scowl on her face. Rowan rolled his eyes. ¡°It¡¯s nice to see you too.¡± ¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± she waved him off, making herself at home. Moving to the living room and sitting in his chair. ¡°We have a problem.¡± Rowan frowned, sitting opposite her. ¡°What kind of problem?¡± She sighed, running a hand through her blood-red hair. ¡°Someone at the Guild saw you turning in the Core. Killian found out, and he isn¡¯t happy.¡± ¡°Did he try anything?¡± Rowan asked, his expression hardening. Two days I¡¯m gone, and there¡¯s already another problem. He hoped it wasn¡¯t anything serious. More for the Silver-rank¡¯s case than his own. If he¡¯d hurt one of his friends, Rowan wasn¡¯t opposed to waiting for him in the Wilds. Strong or not, a surprise [Fireball] would quickly deal with the problem. ¡°He didn¡¯t try to fight us, if that¡¯s what you¡¯re asking. He¡¯s not that much of an idiot,¡± Annie said, a smile tugging on her lips. ¡°But he came over to our table last night. Said he wants his share. Plus another ten percent for quote, ¡®Being dishonest¡¯.¡± Rowan clenched his fist. ¡°I¡¯m really hoping you didn¡¯t give it to him.¡± What happened had left a bitter taste in his mouth, and the fact that it was normal and accepted here didn¡¯t make it any sweater. They already gave him a tidy sum for what was essentially nothing. And if he wanted more, Rowan would have something to say about it. ¡°As if.¡± Annie snorted. ¡°Nemir told him to fuck off.¡± Rowan chuckled, glad that his team thought the same. ¡°I¡¯m guessing he didn¡¯t use that exact turn of phrase?¡± ¡°He might have been a bit more polite,¡± she smirked. ¡°But he got the point across.¡± ¡°Alright,¡± Rowan nodded, already thinking about the implications. ¡°How big of a problem is this going to be? Is there anything he can actually do?¡± She shook her head. ¡°In the city? No, not really.¡± ¡°And outside of it?¡± Rowan asked. Annie glanced at him. ¡°The Wilds are an unpredictable place. It wouldn¡¯t be the first time a team didn¡¯t return from a quest.¡± ¡°Yeah, but would he actually do that? He seemed more opportunistic than anything else. And attacking us seems like a big risk for what¡¯s essentially a few gold.¡± ¡°He would. If the reward was big enough,¡± she said, shooting a poignant look towards his ring. Rowan grimaced. He closed his eyes, thinking about how to play this. Advancing is still the priority. Now more than ever. But even with my [Trait] doing some heavy lifting, that¡¯s still four days away. And I don¡¯t like the thought of my team getting harassed by a greedy Silver-rank in the meantime. He came to a decision. One that should hopefully, if not deal with the problem, postpone it. ¡°Tell him it was my kill,¡± Rowan said. ¡°That should get him off your back.¡± Annie¡¯s brows furrowed in displeasure. ¡°And what does that do besides point him at you?¡± ¡°Nothing,¡± Rowan shrugged. ¡°But it¡¯s going to give him a target. One that doesn''t have any plans on showing itself for a few more days.¡± Annie looked him over, noticing the bags under his eyes. ¡°What are you up to?¡± she asked, leaning forward. Rowan smiled. ¡°I¡¯m working on something.¡± ¡°I hate surprises,¡± she said, poking him in the side. ¡°Spill.¡± He laughed, slapping her hand away. ¡°You¡¯ll find out soon enough. Have some patience.¡± Annie didn¡¯t seem to like that, but before she could voice her displeasure, Rowan stood up. He made his way to the kitchen, taking two glasses and a bottle of barely palatable rum. His Core would still be waiting for him tomorrow. Right now, some pleasant company was exactly what he needed. And with the way things were shaping up, it would be the last bit of fun he¡¯d have for the next few days. . . . The next four days were an exercise in repetition. He pushed away the frustration he felt from Killian¡¯s extortion attempt and the concern that came with having a Silver-rank harassing his friends. There was only one thing that mattered, and that was advancing his Core. The soft red glow had shifted into a rich orange, just a hair¡¯s breadth away from his goal.
Core: Red [97%] ¡ú Core: Red [99%]
It was a heady feeling. Standing on the edge of his next step. Poised to progress on his path. His reserves had grown in tandem with his progression. Making him that much stronger than before. But the increase in mana wasn¡¯t what Rowan was after, even if it was a nice bonus. Closing his eyes, he delved deep into himself for hopefully the last time in a while, his focus drawn to the radiant orb at his center. So close. He grinned. The thought of finally being done spurred him on. Rowan sharpened his Intent, pressing it into his Core. Grow, he intoned, a pressure building from within. Unlike before, a sharp pain shot through his body. Starting from his feet and blitzing its way all the way to the top of his head. Rowan stiffened, a low hiss escaping his lips. He hadn¡¯t been certain what to expect. Rowan had read about advancement and the challenges that came with it. It was just that most of those didn¡¯t apply to him. A shudder went through his Core, cracks forming as his Intent forced it to expand. It was a pain unlike any he¡¯d experienced before. Not in its intensity, but in its weight. Like his very being was being attacked. Rowan gritted his teeth, pushing through it. He didn¡¯t know everything that having an [Immortal Soul] entailed. It certainly sounded grand, but Rowan had never really put it to the test. Until now. More cracks formed, and just as the pain was reaching its crescendo, a faint hum went through his body. It chased away the searing agony like mist being blown away by a soft wind. Leaving nothing but a sense of accomplishment in its wake. The cracks started sealing shut, his Core pushing away the last vestiges of its soft red glow in favor of a pure Orange. The System acknowledged his efforts. A wide grin spread across Rowan¡¯s face as he read the notifications.
Congratulations! You have advanced your Core from [Red], to [Orange]! You have gained [5] levels! You have unlocked a second affinity!
The tension he¡¯d accumulated over the last week bled away. His muscles relaxed, a soft, giddy laugh tearing its way out his throat. ¡°I did it,¡± he muttered, opening his eyes. The smart thing to do would be to let his mind and body rest. This last week had drained him, in more ways than one. But exhaustion wouldn¡¯t stop him. Not now. It was time to learn some Wind magic.