《The World's First Monk》


 Arcadian Genesis

    In the silent starry void there was only Laurelin.


    A being mere mortals would classify as a Goddess, she had blonde hair that was, somehow, also silver and sparkled like the void through which she traveled. Her garment, such as it was, also blended well with her surroundings, deep blue and cascading with stars, it was a gift she wore to protect her from the cold darkness of the void, on her long journey. She sought something new, in the vastness of space untouched by other Divine hands or darker powers. Something she could call her own. Something far from any other disturbances in the cluttered Multiverse. Something...unique.


    Time has little meaning to a being like her, but it still passes, and much of it flowed past as the Multiverse continued to turn and churn beyond her sight. Eventually, in that massive black void of swirling stars, she came upon a sphere of black stone and earth, alone, listless in the vast empty vacuum. A planetoid of considerable size, far flung from whatever star system it had formed from, it was vast, cold, and empty. Laurelin''s beauteous visage finally turned up in a smile.


    It was free real estate.


    "Galdurath."


    She spoke but a single word, a single sound that should not have been able to exist in the vacuum of space, let alone travel through it, and yet, it did so. For there was one dear to her who had now waited quite a long time to hear her voice.


    He appeared as a stereotype made manifest. Where her skin was golden bronze, his was shifting shades of blue. Where her garment was simple and flowing, his own was a leftover of his mortal beginnings, an Artifact possessing great and useful magic, which manifested as finely tailored blue robes with golden trim and shifting arcane patterns imbued into the now divinely enhanced weave. Their communication with one another had long transcended words, and thus she understood just how long she had taken. How much he had missed her presence, and how sorry she was for taking so very long. Time had little meaning to them, but it had still passed.


    Now though, the wait was over, and their reunion began in earnest. Before things could turn lewd or romantic, they descended to the mass of rock and stone she had discovered, and Galdurath found it to be suitable. Into the long-frozen core of the planet, he placed the relic he had spent much of their time apart crafting, though he had long since perfected it. Mortal minds might have dubbed it a Genesis Engine, but Godly minds worked differently. They did not seek to constantly assign names to things, the engine was simply a tool, a device which reignited the planetary core, and began filling it with magic.


    Like a master weaver with a loom, Galdurath wove lines of magic power around their new home. Divine magical energy which he had long since pumped into the device was now spent in creating an atmosphere, and beyond that, a magical shield that would protect their burgeoning world from the random ravages of space. No meteors would impact their home, no alien species on star treks would find them, their world would be safe, hidden, and sequestered in solitude, free to grow and develop with their guidance.


    Laurelin watched her husband work, utterly enamored by the display. The shifting lines of magic blended beautifully with the stars, and once the atmosphere formed, she began her own work. Where she walked, life began its gentle stir: forests broke free from the dark dirt and stone, seas of salty filled water poured from her hands and soon glimmered with the light of the stars.


    When the pair again met at the crown of the world, Galdurath finally spoke, an easier feat now that there was air which could carry waves of sound. "What name shall we bestow upon our new home, my Love?"


    The Goddess paused in her creation of cooling caps of ice upon the planets northernmost point, and thought. Knowing he had time, Galdurath imbued his magical shield with the life-sustaining light of a Sun, a light which would never fade, and which would, for the sake of his sanity, run on a standard twenty four hour cycle, equally splitting the day hours, and the night, gradually shifting forever between each.


    Amused by his continued creation, she finally said, after several shifts between day and night, "Arcadia."


    Galdurath made a face at her. "Not exactly original, but if you desire it to be so, so shall it be." He then turned to look at the planetary core, and uttered the name with the power and purpose of a God.


    "We dub thee...Arcadia."


    With the basics set into motion, the seas, the skies, the mountains, the two Gods finally took their ease, and on that northernmost point, finally ended their long time apart. The footsteps of a God leave a mark on such a world, therefor it follows that coitus does much the same. Galdurath had plenty of centuries with which to plan their reunion, and his Laurelin was quite receptive to his efforts. Thus did Arcadia bloom, a paradise nurtured by the touch of the Gods as the spark of life quiet literally rolled across the entire planetary sphere, several times, before they finally, truly rested.


    For an age beyond reckoning, Arcadia knew only that gentle embrace, the genuine love of two beings on a level of power not often seen, alone and undisturbed. But it could not last, nor did they intend it to.


    With time, somewhat familiar creatures began to roam freely across the grasslands and clustered in the deep glens of the world¡¯s forests. Those who began their existence as minor cells began to grow exponentially. Some, nurtured themselves on the remnants of Laurelin''s passing tread. Others, nurtured themselves on those who preferred eating her flora. Green kingdoms flourished, and a natural cycle of flora and fauna was established.


    In the centuries that followed Arcadia¡¯s initial flourishing, the planet teemed with new beginnings, yet both Gods sensed that something greater awaited. Their partnership had created an entire realm, but in their hearts, they craved an heir, another who would share in their joys and burdens, an echo of their bond to guide Arcadia forward.


    So it was that Laurelin felt within herself a stirring unlike any other; the spark of a third Divine presence. In time, she bore a son whose birth shook the very world with his cries. Though no mortals walked the land yet, the creatures that roamed the forests and skies paused in silent reverence as the usually invisible weave of ley lines crossing the world became visible, a chorus of cosmic energies that celebrated his son''s arrival. Galdurath, joy shining in his azure eyes, held the newborn deity in his arms while Laurelin gazed upon him with wonder.


    They named him Dagorion, a name woven from threads of possibility, carrying a hint of conflict yet unkindled. From the moment he opened his eyes, a curious gleam lit his golden gaze, as if he already beheld the boundless potential lurking beneath Arcadia¡¯s tranquil surface.


    While Dagorion slumbered in infancy and Laurelin and Galdurath focused their attention on their beloved son, in time, sentient mortal races, free-willed beings who could appreciate the beauties of Arcadia and add their own sparks of creativity began to come forth from flora and fauna both. Their biological patterns drew inspiration from countless other worlds across the Multiverse, copying certain archetypes while infusing them with Arcadia¡¯s unique magic.


    Laurelin¡¯s dearest creation, the first and most closely bound to her lifegiving essence. They formed from living trees in Arcadia¡¯s oldest groves, giving them slender bodies, sharp senses, and a deep attunement to natural magic, and the source of it. Laurelin sensed them immediately, and the gentle beings quickly became her favorites forever more. Some elves preferred the bright sunlight and open fields, developing lighter complexions and an affinity for tending the natural world. Others gravitated to caves and deep delves within the earth, their skin darker and their arts more focused on the forging of metals by means of magic. These ''dark elves'' as they would come to be known, became fast followers of Galdurath, but they were not his favorites, for there was another template of sentience he had woven into the fauna of the world, with the hope that one day, they would grow into what he knew they could become.


    From the quick-witted primates that flourished in Arcadia¡¯s canopied jungles, Galdurath encouraged the growth of a new race that valued curiosity and adaptability. Humans, ashe called them, possessed shorter lifespans than elves but compensated with bold ambition and an eagerness to push the boundaries of possibility. Galdurath hoped these mortals would learn from the mistakes of other worlds, evolving beyond any flaws their ancestors might have known. He had made them smarter, but more predisposed to compassion and ingenuity than violence and a near-constant need for reproduction.


    Though elves and humans were first, they were by no means the last. Feline folk both slender and mighty, bipedal lupine tribes who hunted their large prey in packs, rabbit-eared and near-human looking beings who became fast allies and friends of the elves, humanoid ursine warriors who preferred to hunt and live in the cold climates of Arcadias mountains, and feathery avian folk with wings and hands both soared or stalked Arcadia¡¯s wilderness as time passed.


    Each subgroup evolved from the template of forest and mountain creatures, walking upright, speaking with a single common tongue taught to them by a often disguised Galdurath soon joined the growing global community established by humans and elves. These races inherited both bestial instincts like hunting, tunneling, or swift flight, and the capacity for reason and culture. Over time, the so-called ''beast races'' diversified even more, but with the guidance of their Gods, the humans and elves welcomed each without pride nor prejudice, overjoyed to welcome new members into what they saw as a global family focused on progressing their collective technology to make all of their lives comfortable, happy, and easy.


    Born of melding bloodlines between elves, men, and the more beast like races, centaur folk soon appeared as well with combined torsos of elves and men, but with powerful equine, leonine, or otherwise lower halves, blending speed and strength with eloquent speech. These genetic mixes ended up preferring to roam Arcadia¡¯s vast plains in nomadic caravans, believing that freedom of movement was life¡¯s greatest gift.


    Along Arcadia¡¯s coasts and coral reefs, sentients formed from the fauna of the oceans thrived as guardians of the seas. Some were like humanoid whales or dolphins, while, with time, others again blending the ever abundant elves and humans with seafolk traits became colloquially known as merfolk. They formed underwater cities from living reefs and possessed an innate gift for controlling water magic. Some merfolk embraced more adventurous lifestyles, venturing onto land in search of trade or alliances while others remained in the depths, content to reign in the watery deeps, but always they kept the peace, unwilling to be the first of the races to sow discord.


    When the young Dagorion finally was introduced to the flourishing community of that truly golden era of peace, he found himself surrounded by a kaleidoscope of mortal races, each forging small communities near fresh rivers or deep within forests. Though many worshipped Laurelin, giving thanks for growth and nourishment, just as many turned to Galdurath in search of arcane knowledge, or grateful for the knowledge he had imparted upon them to make their lives and survival among the elements easier.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    As the years passed in the northern realm of the Gods, Dagorion grew into his divine gifts. He walked among mortals in various guises, observing how they lived and thrived. At first, he admired the ways they competed: wrestling for sport, racing across fields, honing archery skills, even staging friendly tests of physical strength. While some basic weapons had arisen to combat the more violent creatures of the natural world, the sentient races had yet to turn them on each other, though Galdurath knew that day would, inevitably, come. Laurelin chose to believe otherwise, unwilling to give up her faith in their beautiful creations. She could not conceive of a world where their creations, those she saw also as their children, in a sense, turned on each other in violence. Here, she argued, things would finally be different.


    Dagorion reveled in these contests of skill, as they made his blood ignite in a manner he had never experienced, and could never get enough of. In them he saw the spark of progress, mortals pushing themselves to new heights of strength and skill. Yet, over time, a restlessness took hold in his heart. Winning a contest of strength or an archery tournament only satisfied him briefly, for his skill was unmatched and soon the clever mortals began to easily see through his disguises once his skills were recognized. He craved something deeper, more visceral, a challenge that would raise the stakes, quicken the pulse, and ignite the soul.


    Meanwhile, his parents remained enraptured in their own blossoming paradise. Laurelin continued to sow new seeds of life, as the flora of Arcadia grew ever taller, and its many cities became even more connected. Galdurath obsessively tested the boundaries of magic, refining Arcadia¡¯s ley lines and weaving more advanced protective wards around the planet. Their love for each other, and for the world they had built, was so profound that Dagorion¡¯s budding discontent went unnoticed for far too long.


    Bored by peaceful contests, Dagorion sought darker amusements. He wandered the outskirts of mortal lands, whispering to the more predatory beastfolk and stoking their ancient instincts to hunt and battle for territory. He visited leonid warlords, urging them to expand their domains or risk being overrun by a more ambitious rival tribe of wolf men or bear folk.


    A flicker of unsettling darkness accompanied him. Laurelin was not blind to her son, for he tried stoking discontent among the elves and humans as well, albeit with less success. From distant eons of cosmic wandering, she finally recognized his growing darkness as a vestige of the evil that had dominated onee of the oldest and largest parts of the Multiverse, one from which she had taken her own name, now forever lost in the evil shadow of its Dark Lord.


    Dagorion, enthralled by the adrenaline of battle, eventually crossed that line, and committed the world''s first murder. As the blood stained his hands and the visceral shock of seein someone cut down in what would come to be known as combat filled his eyes, he embraced his savagery, finally eagerly believing he had found his purpose. He and those who followed him, mostly members of the beast races, but no small amount of humans as well, also engaged in the act of murdering those who were weaker than they, simply because they could. The power, the excitement, th depraved sense of superiority it gave them opened them to the cosmos''s natural darkness, which had been all too eager to flood the peaceful world for ages now.


    With this influx of violence, the depravity took hold. Mortals who embraced Dagorion¡¯s teachings and methods found themselves twisted by darkness, losing the gentle shape Laurelin had blessed them with. Their forms grew monstrous, reflecting the violence within, and soon other, darker, and all too familiar patterns associted across the Multiverse with monsters began to form as well. Orcs, goblins, trolls, and other warped races began appearing in Arcadia¡¯s dark corners, reveling in pillaging, bloodshed, and murder. They established primitive war-camps in sunless places, devouring those they conquered in body and mind, heedless of how sick and depraved such things were to those with morals instilled by the Gods.


    Upon discovering the atrocities arising in her beloved realms, Laurelin was horrified. Galdurath, equally dismayed by the surge of departed souls arriving in their northern abode to reincarnate, came in states of terror or despair, and he finally confronted Dagorion. Yet, once he did so, he found his once curious son was barely recognizable. Renouncing his old name with a scornful laugh, he claimed a new name, Dagorath, the God of War, a new identity fully aligned with chaos and bloodshed. In a final act of defiance, Dagorath empowered his monstrous champions to a new level of proficiency.


    They would come to be known by the decent, life-loving races as the Demon Lords, commanders endowed with slivers of Dagorath''s divine power, who set entire civilizations ablaze in their war paths.


    Realizing the existential threat posed by these Demon Lords, Galdurath formed an elite cadre of spellcasters known as the Arc Wardens. These chosen mages, warriors, and scholars stood at the forefront of Arcadia¡¯s defense. Under Galdurath¡¯s guidance, they tracked each Demon Lord¡¯s rise and unified the mortal races to purge the abominations, with great success. Each conflict saw the Arc Warden''s skills grow, and their methods of killing Dagorath''s abominations became more practiced and methodical. Under the threat of death, their technology, powered by Galdurath''s will and his follower''s ingenuity, advanced rapidly, using magic as a base power source to create new and wondrous things. Artifacts of war, yes, but also indoor plumbing, sturdier building materials, and devices that could send spells to ranges far beyond those that mortals could reach on their own power.


    Heroic adventurers, those with skills in certain types of magic or weapons, began to answer the Arc Wardens¡¯ call, forging permanent alliances between elves, humans, beastfolk, and merfolk to vanquish the infernal armies. Though many lives were lost, the Arc Wardens managed to destroy each Demon Lord within a few years of their rise, restoring a fragile peace for a time. Yet every victory left scars on Arcadia¡¯s surface, and on the hearts of its people, and their weeping Goddess.


    Unable to bear the ongoing carnage twisting her most cherished creations directly caused by her beloved baby boy, Laurelin withdrew in a deep depression to the far northern pole, into the etheral complex that mortals revered as the Divine Fortress. Enclosed by glacial peaks and hidden behind swirling magical auroras, it became a sanctuary where she could grieve and reflect. Her presence in the mortal realm grew all but nonexistent.


    Meanwhile, Galdurath took more direct responsibility for Arcadia¡¯s future. He reasoned that by advancing magic and technology, mortals could better protect themselves from Dagorath¡¯s twisted outbursts, and once a Demon Lord could rise and be felled within a day, he hoped that his son would see the foolish futility of his actions, and renounce this senseless bloodshed. With this goal in mind, he encouraged the Arc Wardens to refine spellcraft, build grand cities brimming with arcane marvels, and improve their capacity to fight monsters. The power of flight was soon achieved. Magically powered ships began soaring the skies, and regularly rained down spells and martially skilled adventurers onto wandering hordes of monsters.


    Though she had retreated in despair, Laurelin could not entirely ignore the mortal''s cries for help. Driven by compassion from the genuine pleas of her favored races, she gifted certain priests and chosen adventurers with healing miracles and enhancement magic, blessings that empowered heroes to stand against monsters and other terrors.


    Over the course of many wars, heroic adventurers, often times aided by Laurelin¡¯s holy spells from one of her ''clerics'', drove back each successive Demon Lord. Over time, adventuring became both profession and entertainment, with the Arc Wardens codifying official ranks and bestowing ever more grandiose insignias within their hierarchy. There were, after all, numerous foul monsters in the world now, and the strongest of warriors should not be wasted wipining out tiny goblin nests, when fresher adventurers could do it as well, and gain more experience as a result.


    To better organize the constant flow of would-be heroes, the Arc Wardens established the Adventurer¡¯s Guild. They laid out six core tiers of advancement, each reflecting the adventurer¡¯s skill, magical aptitude, and overall contributions to Arcadia¡¯s defense. The lowest and first of these tiers was bronze, where fresh recruits were given simple tasks like gathering herbs and ores for potions and weapons, or wiping out nests of smaller monsters.


    Next was steel, by far the largest rank, this was where those with average skills that were unlikely to ever really advance ended up. The majority of adventurers journeyed and formed parties at this rank, and often they formed guilds within the Adventurer''s Guild of multiple steel ranked parties, with which they could handle larger forces. Above them were mithril ranked adventurers, those who had true potential and never stopped advancing. They had the drive and luck needed to survive dangerous quests, and they did not know fear, thus they delved ever deeper into monster hordes, sometimes perhaps a bit too heedless of the dangers they could discover.


    Adamantine adventurers were considered the elite, and were often granted titles or lands under an Arc Warden''s domain. They were largely tasked with training bronze parties into steel ranked ones, and with them leading said parties, kept their domains safe from the ever encroaching violence seeking monstrosities of the God of War. Above them were runic ranked adventurers, genuine heroes who were often blessed by one of the Gods, fearless and well equipped, their experiences hardened them into monster killing one-man armies. They tended not to form parties, and if they did, only did so with other runic or adamantine ranked adventurers, and usually not for very long, though there were of course exceptions to that rule.


    Finally, at the top of he hierarchy, but still considered lesser than an Arc Warden, draconic ranked adventurers were the final ace up the sleeve of every domain. Only usually appearing when a calamity class monster showed up, they were considered living legends, and often, led entire branches of the Adventurer''s Guild. Once one reached that status, becoming inucted into the Arc Wardens was all but guaranteed, and Arc Wardens, or those with their level of magical potential, were considered draconic class adventurers by default. Naturally, their offspring were also typically near or at the same level as their forebears, and with time, special academies formed in Arcadia''s largest cities to train these ridiculously skilled children into the next generation of living legends, often expediting their rise through the Adventurer''s Guild and its ranks and being granted top tier items and relics from the start of their journeys.


    Once again, time passed, and over millennia, this hierarchy fostered a functional, if stratified, society. The magically supreme became Arc Wardens, while the rest of the people, namey those without incredible magical aptitude, were relegated to the menial, dangerous, and darker side of their society. With power, came corruption, and Arc Wardens went from being defenders of the planet, to people who could ruin a commoner''s entire life if they felt like it.


    Remarkably, after a particularly nasty Demon Lord who''d reigned for forty years of darkness was slain by a party of draconic adventurers led by the most powerful Arc Warden alive, Arcadia entered an extended era of calm. No monstrous armies emerged to threaten the capitals, and the dreaded polar regions where Dagorath¡¯s corrupt creatures once dwelled lay quiet. The world at large turned its attention to commerce, art, and technological progress under Galdurath¡¯s guiding hand.


    Human blacksmiths invented new steel alloys, elves honed magical horticulture that could feed entire cities, and beastfolk tribes safeguarded roads from lingering monsters. Draconic tier heroes faded into legend. Some believed the threat of war had truly ended, as the peacful era lasted for centuries.


    Yet this peace brought unintended consequences. With no great battles to unify them and only smal groups of monsters popping up more and more infrequently, the mortal races gradually sank into complacency. The Arc Wardens, flush with wealth and privilege, grew preoccupied with maintaining their lofty status. Taxes rose, magical artifacts remained locked behind bureaucratic charters, and corruption festered in the guildhalls. Without epic quests to sponsor, local leaders hoarded resources for their own comfort.


    As the centuries rolled on, a mounting disparity crystalized. Those born with considerable magic or resource connections enjoyed the privileges of advanced artifacts, easy access to healing, and comfortable city homes. Meanwhile, commoners, especially those with scant magical talent, scraped by in cramped urban districts or rural settlements far from guild protection.


    Arcadia had once championed unity in the face of Demon Lords, but now wealth and status were concentrated among the Arc Wardens and high-ranking adventurers, leaving the majority of mortals vulnerable to exploitation. The gilded towers that had once symbolized hope became monuments to inequality.


    Laurelin witnessed this slow rot from the solitude of her northern fortress. Her tears fell upon ice-bound ramparts as she recalled the dream she and Galdurath had once shared. Had they truly condemned their children to a life of hierarchical oppression? And yet, she saw no easy solution. If she swept down and revoked the Arc Wardens¡¯ power, what new chaos might fill the vacuum of power?


    Now, Arcadia stands at the brink of another pivotal chapter in its history, one shaped not by Demon Lords or monstrous invasions, but by the moral decay of a stagnant society. A hush lingers across the land, echoing with the faint memory of battles long past. Even Galdurath, ever the optimist, senses that Arcadia¡¯s magic-laden brilliance rings hollow when so many remain excluded from its fruits.


    Laurelin, unwilling to see her creation slip further into cruelty, contemplated a drastic measure. She recalled her and Galdurath''s wanderings in the broader Multiverse, where lost civilizations sometimes found salvation in an unexpected traveler or a revolutionary concept from beyond their world. Perhaps an outside influence could jolt Arcadia awake, reminding them of their original ideals and bridging the gulf between the powerless majority and the privileged few.


    With that final resolution, the Goddess of Life stirred from her hidden domain, a glimmer of resolve shining in her sorrowful eyes. Her divine mind drifted across the far reaches of space and time, as if calling forth a champion unsullied by Arcadia¡¯s rigid hierarchy, a brave, kind soul who might inspire hope rather than merely enforce order, and change their decaying society for the better. Yet, in her deepest heart, she hoped they would not just shake the foundations of this new, and to her perspective, modern Arcadia. She also hoped for a soul that would bring redemption and balance to her long lost baby boy, and with that wish in her heart, her divine gaze settled upon the Sol system, and third rock floating around its Sun.

 Truck-kun Doesnt Brake For Heroes

    "So what are your plans for this weekend? Anything fun?"


    "Ehh. Sleep. Video games. Weed. The usual." I replied to my boss. She was an older woman with decades of experience as the one who coordinated us trainers, and helped our puppers get adopted for the animal shelter we worked at. She was a bit hard for most people to get along with, apparently, but I''d never had a problem. Mostly because my work ethic wasn''t garbage. She was older in her years, so ''twenty six'' instead of the usual twenty five I defaulted to for women¡¯s ages in the name of survival, which meant that if heavy shit needed to be lifted, I lifted it. If there was menial data entry to do, I did it. Mucking out the kennels was a shared job, but I didn''t complain, and all the animals tended to like me, even if at first some of the skittish rescues saw my thick six foot two frame and quailed in terror. After some food, pets, and belly rubs, in that order, they typically warmed up to me and my magic fingers.


    My boss gave me a look. "Weed and video games huh? Y''know most men stop doing that when they''re almost thirty."


    I smirked back at her, knowingly. "You would think that, but actually, no. Most modern guys default to exactly that, especially when they''re single and their love life is D.O.A.¡± One of our coworkers clapped out the series of fast claps from the theme song of Friends, as she apparently heard me. My boss and I chuckled. ¡°At least, the ones that I know do, anyway. Besides, you know me. All about that work/life balance and keeping that stuff in control. Just enough weed to take the edge off, just enough video games to recharge my brain after hearing Miss Barksalot for six hours." Miss Barksalot had an actual name, but nobody ever heard it, because she never shut the fuck up when she saw new humans, and her high pitched bark could, and had, driven people to the edge of madness. It would take her months before she acclimated to a new person''s presence.


    My boss gave me a different look then, amused as usual by my aloof answer, her tone turned more serious. "Is your leg still bothering you? You should really get that looked at."


    My leg, broken in an incident I didn''t like thinking about because how it had happened was depressingly embarrassing, had been repaired with modern science, screws, plates, and good ol'' American eye bulging six digit hospital bills. Naturally, the insurance company refused to cover it. Somehow, multiple X rays, a ''bone fixator,'' and a whole bunch of other ridiculously expensive treatments were deemed ''not medically necessary''. That left me holding the bag. Four times now I¡¯d had to harass them through endless phone tag with their automated robots, trying to get them to cover what they''d promised to cover back when I¡¯d been in the hospital. Back then, I¡¯d had a feeling their words were utter BS, but I¡¯d been drugged out of my mind and didn¡¯t think to get the rep¡¯s name or anything in writing. Their scam attempts, to this day, still continued, as every few months I''d get a brand new bill with the same charges all over again. This kind of refusal, claiming vital treatments weren¡¯t necessary, was a depressingly common scam by insurance companies all across America. Yet they acted surprised when one of their CEOs ended up shot, repeatedly, in the head, in broad daylight, right on the street.


    Some people called the murderer a hero. Others called him a monster. Me, I saw him as somewhere in between. I understood his frustration; these rich corporate assholes desperately needed a wake up call. Maybe a less fatal one would have been better, but peaceful protests didn¡¯t seem to move the needle anymore, and corporate greed showed no signs of slowing down. They wanted to limit anesthesia next, or at least how much they paid for it, with limits that would hit mid-surgery. Literally robbing people on the operating table. I had a feeling more people were going to snap under the financial strain and that would lead to more deaths, especially in a country as gun filled as America. It was a recipe for bloodbath, but I wanted no part of that mess. No amount of medical debt was worth ending up in our even worse Prison system and, obviously, murder is bad, m¡¯kay.


    My leg still hurt, despite my best efforts to make it stronger. I''d done my rehab, rolled the joint through the alphabet so many times I became sick of letters, and made the best purchase of my life, a stationary exercise bike that also sometimes helped with my weight problem. And it still fucking hurt. All. The. Time. But Mary Jane dulled that edge, and gave me fun thoughts, so I saw the tradeoff as fair.


    "I''m fine." I said, mostly meaning it. "Once my fat ass slims down, it''ll get better. Probably."


    "And if it doesn''t, you should go see a Doctor." My boss admonished, but there was no way in Hell I''d go to a Doctor for anything less than a fatal injury at this point. When simple things like X Rays cost over half a grand, (or probably more, by now) it was simply not a feasible option. Not if I wanted to pay rent. And eat. "Go take Falkor for a walk. Then you can clock out, and start your bachelor''s weekend." Her tone turned to gentle mockery at the end, but it was all in good fun. Even if it was depressingly accurate. There would very likely be no female presences in my immediate future, and I had long since come to terms with that.


    Falkor, was an adorable Goldendoodle with what I liked to call ''Velociraptor-level Intelligence'', namely, because the white furred floofy fucker could open doors, and had a habit of running off. Running, because of the aforementioned metal leg, was not my strong suit, but I could do it. Briefly. For a price I''d feel later. Despite his escape artistry, I loved that doodle. He was one of those old dogs who''d been at the shelter for years, and nobody wanted, but had gotten his name because of his ears and those sleepy, derpy eyes of his that looked like the Luckdragon from The NeverEnding Story. I liked him, he liked me, and we had an understanding.


    There was wisdom in those old eyes, and I had a feeling he could tell my leg wasn''t the best. So if he kept his shit in line, and his pace slow, he''d get treats after our daily walks, even though he much preferred running around. Age had not slowed him. I spoiled him rotten with milk bones, because he was one of our goodest boys, and deserved all three of them. He was also pretty old, and had had a rough life as a puppy, though apparently he''d had an easier life once he''d arrived at the shelter. His floofy white tail started wagging, thumping against the carpeted floor as I found him lounging in a sunbeam, one of the last puppers still out in our common room this late on a Friday, mostly because he didn''t cause trouble and had a tendency to keep the troublemakers in line until we wrangled them.


    ¡°Heyyy, Falkor.¡± I said, grinning at him, since apparently canines could interpret facial expressions. ¡°Ready for a Walk!?¡± His floofy ears perked up at his second favorite word, but he rolled onto his back, tongue lolling, his tail still wagging and shaking his entire body as it did, his belly prominently and hopefully displayed for a nice rub.


    I couldn¡¯t deny this boi, and gave him a solid sixty seconds of belly rubs, before I had to stand upright again. ¡°Alright bud, let¡¯s go.¡± He rolled onto his floofy feet, and sat, wiggling excitedly as I put his leash on.


    New York City was as busy as ever, and Falkor had his mouth open and his tongue lolling. His sleepy, derpy eyes looked at everyone they passed with joy, but most New Yorkers didn¡¯t pay him any mind. His tail started wagging again, as we came upon probably his favorite human, outside the shelter. I, perhaps unwisely, gave him some lead on the automatic retracting leash, as I shouted at the old, overweight, Italian stereotype that ran the closest street hot dog vendor. ¡°Yo! Tony! Incoming!¡±


    ¡°Falkor! Amico mio!¡± The old man started giving the old doodle some rough but affectionate scritches. Falkor preferred gentle touches, but there wasn¡¯t much he wouldn¡¯t do for Old Tony¡¯s ¡®nearly¡¯ expired hot dogs. ¡°You again, cucciolone! Always begging. Here, take this, before it goes bad!¡±


    I walked up behind Falkor, as the old doggo gnoshed on his meat. Tony grinned knowingly at me. ¡°And how about you, amico? Hungry today?¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°I had a big lunch, Tony. Thank you, though.¡±


    The old man winked and tapped his nose. ¡°I see you. Trying to keep the weight off, eh? Maybe land a woman?¡± He waggled his bushy salt and pepper eyebrow.


    I chuckle snorted. ¡°Women cost money, Tony. I don¡¯t have that kind of disposable income.¡±


    Tony nodded in agreement. Tony nodded in agreement. ¡°I get it, amico. Hey, you¡¯re perspicace, eh? What do you think of il Presidente¡¯s tariffs? Mi nipote says he¡¯s a genius. Buys his...how do you say¡­¡®meem coin.¡¯ But I don¡¯t know... Starting fights with allies over trade, it''s brutto affare. Nothing good ever comes from a war of wallets.¡±


    I nodded in agreement, as I expected ¡®il Presidente¡¯ to drive the country into an economic crater, like he¡¯d done last time, in the middle of a plague, and like every Republican had before him. But that was what Americans wanted, apparently.


    It was as I sighed my way through a halfhearted conversation about the imminent and probable collapse of the country that I noticed Falkor was quite far from me, in the middle of a rather busy street, tail wagging as he nosed up next to a young little kiddo, who was holding a fresh hot dog no doubt from Tony''s cart. The sight was adorable, and low-key restored some of my faith in humanity. But it didn¡¯t last.


    A loud and somehow ominous horn ripped through the air, and I got a sinking feeling in my chest. Tony said something in a tone of alarm, but I didn''t register his words, I was already moving. The child froze as the horn ripped through the air, Falkor stayed by his side, ears and tail raised in response to the oncoming noise. Being large and slow though, I ended up in the middle of the road with them as the truck responsible for the loud horn somehow came hurtling around the nearest corner at a speed that should have tipped it over, but didn¡¯t. Falkor¡¯s tail stopped wagging as he turned toward me, eyes widening in something close to confusion. He barked once, short, sharp, and almost like a plea. The kiddo clung to Falkor¡¯s fur, his big brown eyes reflecting nothing but fear. He didn¡¯t cry. He just stood there, petrified, waiting for someone to do something.


    That someone, I decided, had to be me.


    I scooped them both up without thinking, the motion rough but necessary. Falkor yelped softly and immediately started trying to wriggle free, and the kid gasped as I cradled them awkwardly against my chest. I didn''t even bother trying to run, as I knew I was too slow, and the truck was moving too fast. Time was against us, so, I leapt for it, desperate to at least get the pupper and the child to the curb.


    My eyes widened as I heard an unpleasant and chillingly familiar snap, from my bad leg under the weight of my fat ass, the child, and Falkor, and I lost my balance as I landed, my brave, heroic leap becoming more of an awkward, flailing stumble. Gritting my teeth through the intense pain rapidly rising through my ankle and leg, I used my stupidly long limbs to my advantage, and rougher than I meant to, but not enough to harm them, I got the little one onto the curb, with a hard landing on his tiny bottom. He seemed surprised, but unhurt. Falkor also yelped, not liking what I had to do, but as he whirled and looked at me, and my sad, knowing smile, he understood. I''d stumbled backwards, practically back to the middle of the road, and my ankle was turned at a bad angle. I could see it in his wise, derpy eyes. He knew I couldn''t move in time.


    But I didn¡¯t just sit there. Nerd that I was, I''d seen enough isekai to know how this went. I tried to get up, but my ankle was properly fucked, too fucked to even stand on, just like when I''d first broken it. I was not getting up again, and though I contemplated trying to roll away, truck-kun would not be denied. The last thing I saw was Falkor, bless his fluffy heart, barking frantically and running towards me, a loyal boy to the end, even though I knew it was too late. The truck was simply moving too fast, and my rational brain already knew the math. A truck that size and weight, with its considerable mass going well over the posted speed limit of thirty five. I was as fucked as my leg was. The blaring horn''s roar became overpowering, and then, the world went white.


    As the sound of truck-kun''s horn faded into unnerving silence, a golden glow suffused the blank void I found myself in, bathing the space with warmth. It wasn¡¯t just light; it was a presence, one that I could somehow sense. It was powerful...but there was genuine kindness there. A ''good vibe'' as the Zoomers would call it. Slowly, the glow coalesced into a humanoid shape, and before me stood a woman who could only be described as divinely beautiful.


    She was impossibly perfect in terms of aesthetics, with long hair that shimmered like gold, yet also had a silver sheen to it as well, cascading in waves down her back. Her skin and eyes had a faint golden glow, and her eyes were large and expressive. Her flowing blue dress, adorned with intricate starry patterns, seemed alive, constantly shifting like the night sky.


    "Welcome, Hero." She said, her voice melodic and soothing as if it bypassed my ears and spoke directly to my soul. "You may call me Laurelin."


    I blinked, still trying to process where I was or, more accurately, the fact that I really had just been obliterated by a speeding truck. "Am I... dead?"


    She gave a small, understanding smile and nodded gracefully. "In a sense, yes. Your mortal life on Earth has ended, but your story is far from over. You are the one that I sensed. The one that I Chose, this time. The one that will redeem my beloved world. Arcadia."


    "Chose?" I echoed dumbly, still trying to make sense of everything. "Did...did your choice send that fucking truck my way!? Because that hurt! A lot!"


    Her laugh was light, like wind through leaves. "Not...quite." Her expression sobered, as she continued to speak. "Your mortal coil was doomed to end soon...I simply...altered your ultimate Fate, a bit. Tested the strength of your character for myself. I must say, I am not disappointed. Your kind treatment of others in your life and jobs in society, and your decisions in your final moments, showed great courage and selflessness. You risked everything to save an innocent child and a loyal companion, knowing the likely cost and despite your injury slowing you. Such heroism is exactly what I had hoped for."


    I blinked in disbelief. "Wai- wha- how- I was going to die soon!?"


    Laurelin nodded, sadly. "I will not reveal the path of a Fate now avoided...but know that your end would have hurt far more than the truck. It gave you a quick end, and a chance for heroism."


    I tried to blink, but couldn''t. It was at that point, that I realized my body was gone. That made sense. It was probably in a hundred pieces by now. My eyes, or whatever I was using to perceive my surroundings, saw what was left of me as a floating speck of coalesced energy which, I had an unnerving feeling, would have simply dispersed elsewhere into the universe, had Laurelin not had her eye upon me.


    Finally, I said, "What about...what about my family? My life on Earth? Falkor? Are he and the kiddo safe, at least?"


    Laurelin''s expression shifted to sadness, and I felt a surge of despair and worry. "Your loyal friend...was with you, at the end. Heedless of the danger, he ran to help you...and sadly, shared your Fate... The child is alive, and I spared him from seeing what becomes of a body after a fast moving vehicles strikes it. He will honor your memory the rest of his life, and become a close friend of your family...assuming the strands of Fate do not shift overmuch, from my tampering. Your death will be ruled a hit-and-run, and the NYPD will not be able to find the truck that ended you."


    I was still processing that Falkor had died too. I wanted to cry, but couldn''t. I had no tear ducts, all I could do was radiate sorrow, in silence. Laurelin, Goddess that she was, sensed this. "If it alleviates your pain...you should know that loyal Falkor chose to join you. His own end was also quite close, this he was aware of...and he could not just leave you, the one who fed him such delicious treats and gave such kind belly rubs, to depart this world alone."


    My sorrow only quadrupled, and my soulspark shuddered. "Oh dear..." Laurelin murmured. "I...I apologize. I had not expected his will to overpower his instinct to survive. He was not supposed to perish like that, but rather in his sleep, quietly and peacefully."


    "Laurelin..." I finally croaked with whatever I was using to produce my voice, "That''s not...it''s not helping. I...I''m glad I know, but..." The sorrow now mixed with guilt, as I had to come to terms with the fact that my friendly, derpy boi had gone out with me, because I was getting isekai''d, apparently. Because that was a thing that actually happened, apparently. The nerdy weeb within me was, admittedly, hyped, but the cost had been poor Falkor... Questions began forming within what was left of my mind, but Laurelin remained silent, letting me process and cope. Mentally, silently, I asked if she could hear my thoughts. She didn''t answer, but I wasn''t entirely convinced.


    Regardless, this information created a new resolve in me. If I was going to get yeeted to another life in another world to solve its problems for what seemed to be a genuinely Good aligned Deity, I was going to do it right, dammit. Finally, I said, "Tell me...of Arcadia." I knew of the name, that it had, if I recalled correctly, Grecian origins, related to a lush and verdant paradise. I also had enough pop culture awareness to recognize her own name, and the Legends from whence it came. That alone was quite interesting to my nerdy disembodied ass, but I resolved to save the topic for perhaps a more appropriate time. As kind a Goddess as Laurelin was, I knew there was likely a limit to what she would divulge here, at the start of whatever otherwordly madness awaited me.If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Laurelin smiled at me, and said, "Arcadia is a verdant and magic-filled paradise, created by myself and my beloved husband, but it is teetering on the edge of stagnation and corruption. The magically gifted ruling elites of our society, known to all as the Arc Wardens, have grown complacent, and those without enough magical power to become adventurers or nobility suffer under their rule. The Arc Wardens and those with powerful magic make up about five percent of Arcadia''s roughly two billion souls. The rest, are relegated to lower caste lives, and often they suffer for it. The peaceful balance of life and magic that my world was founded upon is eroding, thanks to the steps we have had to take in response to...to..."


    Her voice grew somber, and the golden glow around her dimmed slightly as she continued her exposition dump. "In response to the barbaric actions of my son. Once a paragon of noble competition and honor, he has fallen into...pure darkness. He sows chaos and strife, and and revels in slaughter. The Mortals who worship him change into monstrous forms. To sow the chaos and disorder he desires, he has been unleashing the arbiters of his will who have been blessed by shards of his Divine power. My people have named them Demon Lords. The children of my world cry out for a savior, and...I still hold hope that, some how, some day, my beloved Dagorion will come to his senses and repent his dark deeds...though at this point...I know not if Arcadia will let him."


    I frowned, trying to take it all in. "But...why choose me? I mean...I''ve been aware I''m kinder than most other Humans for some time now, but I''m not a saint. There are those in my world who I genuinely hated. And honestly, Goddess Laurelin...it sounds like those corrupting your world are not so different from the kind of people I despised. People born with privilege, who abuse it at every opportunity." At the very least, I hoped they weren''t also pedophiles.


    Her gaze softened. "You are far more than your emotions, dear Hero. Your strong moral fiber, your capacity for compassion, and your willingness to act in the face of fear, all these qualities make you the perfect candidate, and...I know well that there will be bloodshed, if and when the ruling Arc Wardens and the hierarchy they have created are overturned. I would have you guide them, and those who come after them, as best you can. I will, of course, aid you in this, as will my husband, the God of Magic, Galdurath. Arcadia needs someone who understands the value of Balance, someone who can inspire change, and guide them back to the right path. Together, I believe we can accomplish this."


    "So, save your world from overpowered magical elitists, save the soul of a corrupted Dark God, and guide your completely foreign society back to the right moral path...no pressure..." I muttered at the end of my recap, earning another chuckle from her. "Alright, let¡¯s say I agree. What¡¯s the plan?"


    Her mirth faded once again. "I believe your world is familiar with this concept, of being brought to another world during your life, or upon your death. Though many among you believe it to be mere fantasy. In keeping with your culture, I shall grant you three Boons, to aid you in your next life. You may decide what they are for yourself."


    I frowned, but then remembered, I no longer had a face. "So...what are my limitations, exactly?"


    Laurelin smirked at me, a glint of mischief in her divine eyes. "What limits do you believe a Deity possesses? There is not much I could not grant you, Hero."


    A little exasperated, I responded, "Could...you give me an example?"


    Her smirk widened. "If you desire the ability to travel time with a magical musical instrument whilst wielding a powerful and somewhat sentient sword, complete with green clothing and a kit of various and useful tools, I could make it so. If you wish for your body to be able to enter a ''Super'' state, by perhaps becoming more muscular, blonde haired, and ever more powerful, even when you''re beaten to within an inch of your life, that is within my power. If you desire Telekinesis, and the ability to influence thoughts and reality itself, whilst clad in stately brown robes and armed with a sword of focused plasma, I could make that happen as well. The plasma swords, Lightsabers, I believe your people called them, are quite a popular choice."


    I was, in a word, stunned. "I...I don''t even...You''re telling me I could be a time-traveling Super Saiyan with a freaking Lightsaber!?" I said, combining all three, to test the boundaries of her offer. Once more, she chuckled.


    "Complete with a sentient blue phone box, if you wish it."


    My disbelief magnified. "That''s just...what even...HOW!? How do you even know all these...oh, right, Deity, I guess there''s some level of Omnipotence, but you said other Universes have Lightsabers too? Like...what? Help me understand, please."


    Laurelin seemed quite amused by my emotional state, but for me, it felt like a roller coaster of emotion. Mercifully, she exposited some more information for my whirling mind. "I can confirm for you; the Multiverse is incomprehensibly vast, and the tropes and heroes you spent your life learning of may very well exist, somewhere within it, in some form. Likely, a form you''re familiar with, studious pop culture enjoyer that you were. Mortal cultures are often affected by what Galdurath, myself, and other beings on our level call Dimensional Echoes. These echoes are like...waves of energy that effect a part of reality your species, in your Universe at least, has yet to understand, or even discover provably exists. These waves have patterns embedded into them which radiate across the entirety of the Multiverse, and have a habit of manifesting in forms that you, and your considerable collection of cultural knowledge, will likely recognize, if you choose the ability to traverse the Multiverse as one of your Boons."


    "I''m...I''m gonna need a minute..." I said, properly stunned. It was all a bit much. After a moment, I said, "Does it have to be three? Can I acquire more Boons? Can you give me, say, five instead of three?"


    Her kind eyes turned sharper, as she stared at the energy that comprised my soul. "You are well aware the dangers of Greed, young Hero. However...because the task I have given you is so monumental, and dear to my heart, I will tell you this: there are limits. Your Boons will grow and change, as you do in Arcadia. Your actions and efforts will be the catalyst for this change. To answer your question...yes. You may acquire more than three. I will not yet divulge how, though, nor will I grant more than three, at this point. On Arcadia, great deeds are heavily rewarded, so I recommend choosing Boons that will help you achieve that greatness."


    Slight panic set in, as I realized I could very easily screw myself with the wrong setup, but thankfully, I''d seen that done before, and had a general idea of what would likely end up being useful in a reincarnation situation. One thing was clear, though. I needed more context. Cautious of the new sharpness in her kind eyes, I probed some more. "In most examples of this scenario on my world, the Heroes in question often end up with surprise or unexpected, but not unwelcome, aid from their Divine patrons in the form of minor blessings. Should I expect the same? And if so, could you tell me what they are? I don''t want to waste such an important gift on overlap."


    Laurelin was quiet for longer than expected, and I started to wonder if I''d overstepped. Finally, she spoke. "Your new body will possess the magical potential of an Arc Warden. This will inevitably cement your status among the magical elite, for there are good souls among them that could become Great, with the right guidance. With this potential, will come access to what we call Status Magic, a concept I believe you should be familiar with. It will provide a display not unlike your ''video games'' to aid you in managing your skills, attributes, and any items you gather. You will also be able to manipulate your natural magical energy in whatever manner you desire, though on Arcadia, this is primarily done by casting what your people call Spells. In addition to that, you will speak and understand the spoken and written language of my world, without having to learn it the hard way."


    I nodded, which equated to me bobbing up and down in place. "I umm, assume your world has some form of currency, as well?"


    Laurelin nodded. "Your skills will allow you to acquire as much as you need, provided you make the effort."


    Painfully aware that her answers were getting shorter and less expository, I thought quickly and quietly, for a long time.


    If Arcadia was a world inundated with, assuming the Goddess was accurate and truthful, around one hundred million magically gifted people who, if the ''Dimensional Echo'' pattern held, were likely some kind of adventurer ranked by skill and magical aptitude, then there was no point in asking for ninth level spells. If spells could be cast, I had no doubt they could be Counterspelled, and it was here that my D&D knowledge blended with anime, as I recalled a particular protagonist who was famous, or perhaps more accurately infamous for his unique and unprecedented ability to literally cut through the absurdly powerful spells the wizards in his universe had at their disposal with his giant black devil sword. I wasn''t obnoxiously loud and energetic, nor would I be declaring myself the Wizard King, but if I wanted fame, breaking people''s magic on a world that seemed to be all but drowning in it was a good way to get noticed.


    Being a powerful spellcaster among powerful spellcasters would not be enough to do what Laurelin desired of me. I had to connect with both the overpowered magical elite, and the downtrodden and likely less magically gifted lower castes of her society, if I wanted to truly bring about lasting changes. Thus, I tentatively asked another question unrelated to Boons. "Goddess Laurelin," I started with respect in my tone, "I believe I have the shape of what I will need for my first Boons. But...I do need to know...do all people of Arcadia have magic within them? Or are there those born without any at all?"


    She blinked, her eyes becoming less intense as she seemed...genuinely confused as to why I wanted, nay, needed to know. "It is...exceedingly rare for someone to be born without any magic within them whatsoever. My Galdurath''s blessings upon the world and his role in its creation guarantee that. There are methods of stripping someone''s magical power away...but only if they are already very magically weak, and possess a truly small amount of power. Most of our technology requires at least a tiny bit of magic for the people to use it."


    I asked for more exposition, then. What kind of races lived there? Were those with magic organized into a hierarchy below Arc Wardens? Did the various races and beastfolk get along, or were they divided and prejudiced? What stats and attributes exactly, did Status Magic display, and what exactly did each one connect to?


    I learned Arcadia had a veritable kaleidoscope of sentient species, there was indeed an Adventurer''s Guild, complete with ranking system, quests, and even loot-spawning Dungeons (which would be the main source of my monetary wealth, apparently), and that all these races did in fact get along. There were exceptions of course, the all too familiar mindsets of those who claimed their kind was somehow naturally superior to everyone else, but it seemed Laurelin and Galdurath had done a fantastic job of nipping prejudice in the bud. This made my job infinitely easier.


    Attributes and stats, praise the Goddess, were apparently the same as they tended to be universally. Intelligence was linked to magic power, and spell potency. Strength would make me hit things harder, make me able to last longer in fights, take more heavy hits and be able to stay alive and standing, and able to lift increasingly heavier objects. Dexterity helped with dodging, sneakiness, and things like shooting arrows, mastering single handed light blades and their sword styles, or throwing knives. Charisma would help with social situations, and could apparently cure even my natural awkwardness, or so Laurelin had assured me. I would need all of them, to be capable of facing down a God, and convincing him to end his millennia long efforts to create chaos and disorder.


    To my great joy for the plan forming within my mind, stamina was, apparently, not a measured stat. One''s ''hit points'' as I''d called them, were directly tied to one''s physical strength, and automagically grew as one increased their overall level. Levels, I had learned, also increased all of these stats by at least one point, so my goal was not impossible, but, I had been warned that the stronger I grew, the more likely that my levels would result in boosting some stats and not others, depending on the path I took. If I neglected any, it would, eventually, show up as a price I would have to pay.


    "Alright, fair Goddess." I said, projecting confidence, as a plan came together. "I am decided on my initial Boons." Laurelin''s eyes widened, and the smile had returned. I hoped she was even more convinced of my worthiness, after my lengthy adjustment period to the fact that I was dead, so was my little floofy buddy, and the fact that I was apparently being isekai''d. Hopefully, my choices didn''t disappoint her, or end up being objectively useless.


    "First!" I practically shouted, "I want my new body to be extremely durable! I want to be able to tank a hit from Truck-kun, and live! Just make me extremely, naturally, tough!" That made her smile, but she nodded. This was, by far, my most selfish Boon. After breaking twice in my last life, I was absolutely terrified of what the beasts she had mentioned could and would do to me. But so long as my body wasn''t as fragile as a basic human''s, I could be exactly who she wanted me to be, I was sure. It also played into my plan pretty cleverly, at least from my perspective. Time would tell if I was right.


    "Second!" I continued, "I want to greatly increase my Intelligence stat from the jump, so that I can bring my considerable knowledge of Kung Fu, specifically the Martial Arts, with me to Arcadia! I also believe the knowledge I accrued in my past life, especially the knowledge related to the philosophies behind Kung Fu will greatly aid your world." To be clear, I''d never been in a proper contest of the physical arts of Kung Fu, mainly because of my lack of physical fitness and then my injury, but I had learned the forms and practiced them, and with a body that wouldn''t break, as well as Status Magic, a whole world of possibilities opened up before me.


    It was here, that the Goddess interjected. "You may bring a Master''s level of Martial Arts knowledge of a single Martial Art Style with you, not all of them. I will allow you to develop, learn, and master the ones you do not initially choose over time. Furthermore, you may keep some pieces of your previous life''s knowledge, but things like, for example, how to split an Atom, or how your murderous Firearms work, will be erased."


    I frowned a bit at that, or would have if I had a face, so instead I bobbed in place again. "In that case, I choose the Dragon Style. I''d still like to remember what I knew of Science though, Goddess. It''s going to be a big help if I can convince the Arc Warden elites to listen or hear me out in exchange for otherwordly techniques and knowledge related to physics, fuel sources, and even crop farming. I spent much of my last life learning all sorts of useful things...though I uhh, never really got a chance to actually do most of them, or make use of said knowledge."


    Laurelin was quiet for a moment, and then nodded. "I can sense your pure intentions. I will not cripple your understanding of your Earth Sciences, but know this: should you try to recreate your radioactive death bombs, your hand-held murder machines, or any other of the many devices you Earthlings use to slaughter each other, I will scrub your knowledge completely, and without warning. You may even not survive the process, or be left in a vegetative state for a time as a result."


    I gulped audibly, despite not currently having a throat. "I''d never dream of creating such things, Goddess. Like you seem to...I also despise guns and nuclear weapons. My world started spiraling into the shitshow it''s currently in once we advanced those two technologies specifically...and it''s not going to get any better. You have my word, I will not deliver the knowledge of how to more efficiently end innocent lives to Arcadia, and if you wish it of me, I will even personally scour such knowledge so that it never has a chance to manifest." I figured a Fireball must be just as deadly as a gun, but for all I knew, there were wards to prevent casting spells for war in Arcadia''s cities. Or, there were no such wards, and Laurelin simply wished for there not to be yet another way to easily take someone''s life, on her planet. I got the sense she was very tired of seeing her children die to her son''s wars, and the oppression of the caste system.


    "Finally..." I said, somewhat less excitedly, as I knew my final Boon, that was probably closer to a Wish, in D&D terms. It was one I''d had since I''d manifested here, and learned what had befallen me, and my favorite floofy friend. "I want Falkor to come with me. He''s a good boy...and he lost what time he had left of his comfy life because of me, short though it apparently was. That doggo lived every day to its fullest, and seemed to enjoy every minute. The least I can do is let him take part in my new one, and...it''d be nice to have someone from home, with me. So I don''t get too homesick."


    Laurelin''s face shifted to a new expression then, and it took me longer than it perhaps should have to realize I''d made a Goddess tear up. "The love you two have for each other...genuinely stirs my heart. That Boon, my Hero, you can have for free. United in Death, you shall be united again in your new Life." Her hands moved, and glowed with golden light, then, a moment later, a smaller spark of energy not unlike mine, appeared in this golden voidplane alongside myself and Laurelin. Again, I felt the urge to tear up, as I heard Falkor''s bark, and again, I had no eyes with which to cry.


    "Heyyy, buddy." I said, and the bright little spark radiated excitement, and palpable joy as he heard my voice. I always knew I was one of his favorite humans, and in his long life at the shelter he''d had many, but it seemed I had greatly underestimated just how much he liked me. It made my soulspark shine a little brighter.


    Laurelin gave us a moment as Falkor''s spark excitedly bobbed around mine, and then quietly ''ahemmed''.


    "Ahh, right, sorry." I said, still overcome with happiness that Falkor was even still here. She was really testing my emotional range today. "In that case...I want my final Boon to be a new body for Falkor. I want him to be a Dragon. But not just any Dragon..." I said, chuckling as I spoke, "He should be as his namesake was. A Luckdragon. A wise, friendly being, who has Fate on their side. The ability to fly the skies of Arcadia, his own magical abilities and stats, and...most importantly...I want him to be able to speak and understand Language, as we do."


    Laurelin wiped another tear away, and nodded, giving us a large, genuine, and downright beautiful smile. Galdurath was a lucky man...God. "A worthy Boon for a worthy soul, and one easily granted. I had worried that Arcadia and the life you would lead would be a bit...rough for one as fluffy as Falkor was, but this Boon has rectified my concern. He will be a companion to you for as long as your new life lasts, and when it does eventually end again, some day, you will depart to whatever comes next together." Her smile faltered slightly, then. "On Arcadia...Dragons are historically seen as the greatest of my son''s dark abominations. It took him many centuries to perfect the attributes you would give to a Dragon, but he did eventually succeed in creating them, and the devastation they wrought is not easily forgotten. Falkor shall bear my mark upon his brow, and his eyes shall shine with my Light. All who look upon him will know him as a Dragon created for good...and in time, who knows?" The author of every biological entity on Arcadia gave us a playful smirk. "Perhaps Falkor will not be the only Luckdragon."


    The three of us laughed, and then Laurelin raised her hands, as they shone again with her divine power. "In your time deciding your Boons, we have managed to return to the space that Arcadia resides in. From this point on, your Path is your own, Hero. When next we meet, it will be on my beloved Arcadia."


    The world went white again, but now, as before, Falkor was with me, and I could sense him. Feel him, actually. And also literally. As in, with the sense of touch common to sentient beings. A musty, but not unpleasant smell filled what I recognized as my nose, though I could immediately tell it had changed in both size and shape. Bit by bit, my senses reconnected with my new body, and by the time I opened my eyes, I could literally feel it in my bones. I was strong. Durable. Whole, and unbroken. The pain that had plagued the latter half of my Earthly life was finally, mercifully gone, and I felt better than I had in decades. Perhaps I really had been sick, back on Earth. Or something. It was unnerving to think I''d almost suffered a worse fate than getting mowed down by Truck-kun. I truly owed Goddess Laurelin, and resolved then, as I opened my new, still blue eyes, that I would help her recover her clearly dearly beloved son. Even if it killed me. Even if he broke me, for fun, a thousand times over.


    No longer was I on the boring, Godless, and downright murderous planet Earth. This was a world that had been created and blessed by not one but two Gods, one who I had yet to even meet, and no matter how badly I broke here, I knew from Laurelin''s description that healing magic, her magic, could repair me fully. I realized as I looked around the fairly well furnished bedroom we''d appeared in, just how raw of a deal we had back on Earth. For the last time in hopefully a long time, I put the thoughts of my depressingly doomed old world aside, and found a mirror.


    My eyes were drawn first, to Falkor. I smirked, as apparently Laurelin either didn''t know that Luckdragons, at least those from Fantasia, actually looked remarkably like dogs, or she had purposefully decided to mold his new and evidently quite young body after what dragons looked like on this world. His scales were white, his underbelly was soft, leathery, and a fitting creamy brown, he had two folded white wings, and their leathery flaps were also the same creamy brown. His eyes lacked pupils, and shone with an energetic golden light. As promised, upon his brown and just under his tiny pair of curled but fitting white horns, I could see the symbol of a golden tree that rose  from his eyebrows to the beginning of the small white spikes that formed a crest on his head, and went all the way down to his lizard-like tail. His body was serpentine like a Chinese dragon, but he had the four legs and two wings of a western one as well. His tiny claws gripped my arm, and to my immense satisfaction, I barely felt any pain or discomfort from them.


    Then, I saw myself. My eyes were, in fact, the exact same, but that was all I''d retained from my Earth body. I was young, I realized, as I raised a hand to feel my beardless face. Too young to even grow a beard. I immediately cast my eyes downward, and started examining my new, durable body from the bottom up, my new brow furrowing as I saw fine dark leather shoes on my large feet, a pair of pressed and quality black pants covering my male parts, and a royal blue school blazer trimmed with gold. It was most definitely a posh school uniform, and even had a name tag on the breast pocket. I squinted at it, and smirked. "Drake Long? Is...is that my name? Isn''t that just...dragon dragon?" I was fairly sure, at least on Earth, that ''Long'' was Chinese for ''dragon'', like Kung Fu was Chinese for Martial Arts. Kind of. My old earth memory flared up as I rolled the name in my head. Drake Long. I didn''t dislike it, at all, but there was...something very familiar about it. Something I felt like I should have been able to remember, and would later hit myself for not immediately realizing.


    Then, finally, and somewhat hesitantly, I looked at what I had to work with in terms of my new face. I''d gotten a bit of a peek, seeing my eyes, but I''d quickly cast them downwards. Falkor was draped regally around my broad shoulders, and I realized that I''d probably end up being the same height as I''d been on Earth, once I was no longer a fucking teenager. I spoke my first words in Arcadia then, as I took in my face, and unfurrowed my new, well-kept and less bushy eyebrows. My voice wasn''t quite as deep, at least not yet anyway. "Ho-lee shit. I''m a teen!" I said, purposefully raising my voice, and to my chagrin, making it crack like it had the first time I''d suffered through puberty. "And...and I''m hot!?"


    In my first life, I''d never really been able to tell what women qualified as attractive, for men. Or if I fit those parameters. I''d never asked, and only two women had confirmed I''d been easy on the eyes, though that was mostly because my own eyes had been, in their words, ''dreamy''. I could admit they had been my best feature, but now, I had multiple best features. A strong jawline, classically good looks, even with my face in an expression of shock, and topped off with slightly curly and somehow fitting isekai protagonist hair. It was shorter than my last body''s, and I had a feeling that was because of whatever dress code this school I was apparently enrolled in had. Falkor huffed a chuckle on my shoulders, and I heard his voice for the first time. He sounded young, but there was still a rich tone to it that was deeper than my own.


    "Handsome!" He boomed in my brain, and I had to admit, he was right.

 Is It Wrong to Flirt with High Schoolers When Ive Been Reborn as One?

    ¡°Draaake! Time for breakfast!¡±


    Drake Long blinked in disbelief again, still coming to terms with his objectively hot teenager body, and the uniform he was wearing. Drake had no doubt Laurelin intended for him to go to some sort of high school. His mind was racing. Puberty. Again. Homework. Again. Tests. Drama. Cliques. Again. Greeeaaaat. Term papers about useless subjects. Trapped in an uncomfortable plastic seat for six or more hours. For years. Awesome.


    The dark memories of a time in his past life he was eternally glad to have been over with were resurfacing with a vengeance. He¡¯d been as much of an awkward nerd in his last high school as he¡¯d been as a nearly thirty year old man. He hadn¡¯t been lucky in le romance either, as the father of the one girl he¡¯d managed to woo as a teen had arrived in her room when he¡¯d been ¡®lubricating the gates¡¯ and the relationship had never recovered after that.


    Then, Drake blinked again, and looked at Falkor, who had a very bemused expression on his dragon face. ¡°Wait¡­that voice¡­was that Laurelin?¡± He nodded, and they left what Drake assumed was his room, to find a rather absurdly large hallway with a high ceiling and many other closed doors along it. He decided to go left, as always, and came upon some stairs. Then, the smell of food hit them. Some kind of meat, and eggs, it seemed. Falkor smelled it too and Drake followed his forward-leaning dragon snout to the kitchen and dining area.


    Goddess Laurelin was indeed there, in a lighter dress this time, blue and white and still filled with stars. She smiled as their eyes fell on the feast sitting on the dining table and said, ¡°I figured you would appreciate a meal before heading off to the Academy.¡±


    Drake blinked. ¡°Academy¡­? I just got here¡­as a teenager apparently¡­and now I¡¯m going to a school of some sort?¡±


    Laurelin nodded. ¡°There¡¯s no better place to learn what you need to know! And you already know how to navigate one, so it should be no problem for you.¡± Drake knew better than to argue. Her ¡®mom tone¡¯ would brook no truancy. ¡°It¡¯s a ¡®boarding school¡¯ in Earth terminology, and the semester started a few days ago, just so you¡¯re aware.¡± Drake hid his grimace as he had some lightly salted eggs.


    ¡°And it¡¯s all just¡­the same as what I know from Earth? Grades? Tests? Math, language, science, P.E, and¡­magic, probably?¡±


    She smirked at him. ¡°You got most of the courses just by guessing. I expect straight As from my chosen Hero.¡± Drake groaned. Grades. Great. Awesome. Yay. He genuinely would¡¯ve preferred a dank dungeon reeking with the stench of voided orc bowels, than more schooling. Both Laurelin and Falkor laughed at him, even as the dragon was munching on a small mountain of cooked sausages. ¡°Falkor will be staying here, with me, for a time, while you get educated. I need to examine his growth, make sure it isn¡¯t stunted, and inform your instructors that they are not to harm him when he visits you. They do not allow pets, but I know I won¡¯t be able to keep him away forever.¡±


    Drake raised an eyebrow at her. ¡°Is he¡­going to fit in this place, once he¡¯s grown?¡±


    She chuckled again. ¡°I take it you haven¡¯t looked outside yet. You should. It¡¯s quite a sight.¡±


    Nomming on a sausage of his own, Drake stood and strode towards the paned windows lining the far wall of the eating area, and gasped, as he beheld Arcadia¡¯s sky for the first time. There was no Sun, no star to warm the far flung planet. Magical lines of energy swirled through the sky, but above them, was a truly majestic rainbow nebula. ¡°Holy shit¡­¡± Drake muttered, in awe. Falkor jumped on his shoulders again, and Drake watched his eyes widen as well, scratching underneath his chin as they took in the sight. Laurelin joined them, a moment later. ¡°Is the view always like this?¡±


    ¡°Only from our palatial grounds.¡± A new, deep male voice said. Drake turned and beheld what looked like a classic stereotype of a wizard. He seemed human, with long white hair, long white beard, kind but tired eyes, and blue robes trimmed with gold, not at all dissimilar from his uniform¡¯s color scheme, that glowed with faintly pulsing purple arcane patterns. ¡°Greetings, Drake Long. I am Galdurath, husband of Laurelin, and God of Magic.¡± He inclined his head, and after glancing at Falkor, Drake bowed low, and Falkor lowered his head as well.


    Drake could tell that Galdurath didn¡¯t care for him. He was looking at the two isekai''d arrivals with veiled distaste, like an upper east-sider looked at a puddle of urine on a New York sidewalk. This did not bode well. Drake needed the two good aligned Gods to be firmly on his side. As Drake met his gaze evenly, his eyes narrowed slightly. ¡°I am, genuinely, honored to meet you, Galdurath. Since your wife told me about you, I¡¯ve been eager to meet an actual God of magic.¡±


    Galdurath¡¯s tone now echoed his eyes, with disdain. ¡°I¡¯m sure you have. Just so you¡¯re aware, your current year¡¯s tuition has been covered by us. For matters involving the Galdurian Arc Warden Academy, we will be acting personally as your Guardians.¡± Galdurath stared him down with quiet intensity. ¡°Obviously¡­we¡¯re very busy. So don¡¯t waste our time by having us need to be called in by your instructors. Future school years will be up to you to pay for. To graduate as a recognized Arc Warden, you need a Grade Point Average above three, and six consecutive years of schooling.¡±


    The teenager did the math, and tried not to grimace. He¡¯d be twenty two by the time he finally got to adventure, assuming his grades, which had been lackluster at best back on Earth, were up to par. GREAT. Drake must have shown his disdain on his face, because Galdurath¡¯s white brows crashed together. ¡°We can always return your worthless essence to the Earthsphere, if you prefer. Seeing you now¡­I genuinely cannot fathom what his wife sees in you, and seeing your achievements of your past life, all zero of them, I expect you to fail. Spectacularly.¡±


    ¡°Galdurath!¡± Laurelin¡¯s fierce tone sliced through Drake''s retort before it formed. ¡°I chose him, with the same parameters that selected you once upon a time. You insult both yourself, and my intuition, before he¡¯s even stepped out the Fucking door!¡±


    ¡°My love, I-¡±


    ¡°Spare me!¡± She countered, and Drake made a mental note to never piss Laurelin off, but this had the vibe of a fight long in the making given how quickly she¡¯d gone off, so he wisely shut the fuck up. ¡°You¡¯ve had nothing but disdain since I came up with this plan, you¡¯ve whined about it incessantly, and now, atop all of this childish behavior from a God, you insult our Hero, a guest in our home, before he¡¯s so much as opened his Status Magic!? Go back to Primus. The sight of your countenance is enraging me.¡±


    With fury in his eyes aimed in Drake''s direction, Galdurath wordlessly bamfed away in a flash of bright blue magic. Laurelin took a deep breath, and calmed herself. Drake noticed the sky then, and the clouds that had suddenly rolled in, now once again dispersed, revealing that gorgeous nebula in the space ¡®above¡¯ Arcadia. ¡°I¡¯m sorry about him¡­for all his wisdom and intellect, he can still succumb to Mortal flaws. He was once a Mortal like you, and his utter failure to stop our son and guide our society has made him frustrated. My summoning you here is proof that he has completely and utterly failed. You will have to impress him greatly, if you want him to respect you.¡±


    Drake had a feeling the God of Magic was plagued by other worries. He recognized that look in Galdurath''s eye, the one he had when he saw his beloved wife. She was admittedly quite a catch, and were Drake in his position, he¡¯d probably also be feeling some trepidation from her summoning another isekai protag to accomplish a task his own Godly powers failed to handle. ¡°With respect, Goddess¡­I need to speak with him. Now. Letting this fester, is just going to cause more problems. I think things will go better though, if you¡¯re not around while we speak. Give me...ten minutes, and then bring me back here¡­after that, I¡¯d like to at least look at my stats and get a feel for casting magic before I go to an elite Academy dedicated to it.¡±


    Laurelin sighed, and then waved a hand at him. A divine golden shield surrounded his person, clinging to his skin. ¡°His powers won¡¯t negatively affect you, so long as this shield endures. Ten minutes.¡± She said, tiredly, before bamfing him away. Drake nodded, and then, he was elsewhere.


    Drake appeared in a genuinely awe inspiring wizard sanctum, worthy of a God. There was only one large window, showing the city, Primus no doubt, below. Galdurath was standing by a table full of arcane devices, and he scowled as he saw him appear. ¡°You have some nerve, asking to come here uninvited.¡± He stated plainly.


    Drake nodded. ¡°I apologize¡­both for that, and for what I¡¯m about to say, if it offends you.¡± That got his attention. ¡°I¡¯m sure¡­that dealing with the aftermath of your son turning evil is¡­a kind of stress I can¡¯t properly fathom. Having the fate of an entire world is, as you pointed out correctly, new to him. But all I want, Archmage Galdurath, is for you and I to be allies in his purpose here. I owe your wife, for saving me, and Falkor. I can see that losing your son has deeply hurt her¡­and I want to help. I know I can help. But I¡¯m going to need your help as well, so, man to man, reincarnated Hero to reincarnated Hero, I want to give you my word on this. And you can use your Godly powers to confirm the truth of my words in my soul: I solemnly swear to help your son return from the darkness, to guide your precious world to a better path, and to make your family whole again. That¡¯s what your wife wants, I think.¡± Galdurath was quiet, his angered expression lessened, as his words were processed. ¡°And,¡± Drake added, ¡°I have absolutely no romantic intentions towards Goddess Laurelin. I just want to state that, for the record, here, at the start of what I hope is a long and mutually beneficial partnership.¡± Drake offered a hand to him, and Galdurath looked at him, sighed, and then walked towards him.


    As he took his hand in a firm shake, he said, ¡°I remain skeptical¡­but¡­my wife is right. You have literally just arrived. You will make mistakes, as I did, and rise to the challenge set before you, as I did. You have my word, Drake Long, I will not hinder your quest. Until your oaths are fulfilled, you may see me as an ally.¡± He let his hand go, and regarded Drake with, by his estimation, mildly less disdain. A puddle of dirty water, perhaps, as opposed to urine. Drake called that progress.


    Drake bowed again, deeply. ¡°In time, I hope we can also be friends. I¡¯ll do my best to prove worthy of your wife¡¯s appraisal, and, I''ll put in a good word with her on the home front for you¡­if uhh, you wouldn¡¯t mind sending me back there.¡±


    Galdurath nodded again, his expression passive. ¡°I will wish you luck, Drake Long.¡± He said, as light engulfed his vision, and Drake was whisked back to the home of the Gods. ¡°You will need it¡­¡± He muttered, before returning to his work, and shaking his head. A magicless soul from a magicless universe attending an academy dedicated solely to magic had a low probability of working out.


    Falkor¡¯s scaly tail wagged as Drake returned, appearing in the kitchen this time, and Laurelin was once again at the table, quietly sipping what smelled like tea. ¡°How was he?¡± She asked, eyes not leaving her cup. Drake smirked lightly. It was clear she cared as much for Galdurath as he did for her, but losing a son to evil¡¯s embrace would strain any marriage, divine or otherwise.


    ¡°Skeptical¡­perhaps credibly so, but amenable to helping me accomplish our mutual goals. I¡¯m sure once I can prove somewhat competent, he¡¯ll warm up to me. Maybe once I clear a Dungeon or two.¡± Drake chuckled.


    Laurelin raised a brow at him. ¡°That¡¯s quite a feat, you know.¡± Drake blinked in confusion at her, and she elaborated. ¡°There are thirty two known Dungeons that have appeared across the entirety of Arcadia. Seventeen of those, are what we call Demon Dungeons, and the creatures within them are quite strong. Stronger than Runic class Adventurers. Fortunately, at a certain level of power, they cannot leave the Dungeon without Dagorath¡¯s direct influence either personally or through a Demon Lord. Only low level monsters can leave, though they¡¯ll simply respawn if they¡¯re killed outside of a Dungeon. The only thing that ends their twisted souls permanently, is dying in a Dungeon, and while inside one, they are exponentially stronger. The Final Bosses of each Dungeon are considered comparable to the highest ranks of the Arc Wardens, and just reaching them takes quite a lot of resources, supply lines, and manpower. We do have Heroes who could beat them, but the interiors of Dungeons can be incomprehensibly vast. Like¡­the interior of a TARDIS, they¡¯re bigger on the inside, and entirely under the control of the Final Boss that rules over them.¡±


    Drake smirked, and ran his thumb across his nose, embracing the stereotype he¡¯d been reincarnated into. ¡°I¡¯ll say it again, then. I¡¯ll clear out a Dungeon, maybe even two!¡±


    My bravado got the Goddess to chuckle. ¡°In all our long history, since the Dungeons first started appearing, only five regular Dungeons have been fully cleared out. Two by the Elves, and three by Humans. And those only fell because they appeared well within the territory of those races, where supplies and strength of arms were plentiful. Perhaps before you start boasting, you should at least use your Status Magic.¡±


    ¡°Right, let''s see what awesome stats I¡¯ve spawned with!¡± Drake said confidently, then, as the silence grew, Drake realized he actually had no idea how to cast magic. Like, at all. He¡¯d been focusing his mind like a true anime protag, and yet, no screens appeared. Frowning, Drake raised a hand before him, but still, nothing happened. His mind raced, and settled on, perhaps, the status being summoned by both verbal and somatic components, as most spells Drake was familiar with required. ¡°Status!¡± He said, still projecting confidence, but again, nothing happened.


    Laurelin raised a brow. ¡°Oh dear. You really have no idea how to open it, huh? I suppose that makes sense¡­you are from a Universe that utterly lacks magic. Just searching it was quite tiring, as a result, even for me.¡± She set down her tea, and approached him, taking his hands. She closed them together, like he was about to pray, and then it occurred to him, the source of this world¡¯s magic was a God. Maybe praying was the main requirement. As an atheist in his former life, the idea simply hadn¡¯t occurred to him. Drake had to remember he was in a world with nature-defying powers, now. The old rules no longer applied. ¡°Try again.¡± Laurelin gently encouraged.


    Calmer now, Drake tried praying, or at least, his best attempt at it. His parents had, like the majority of Earthlings, indoctrinated him into the same cult they¡¯d been a part of before he could even form words, let alone properly comprehend what a God even was, as a concept. Drake hadn¡¯t been a genius, but he had been rational, and had his clever moments. And his not so clever moments. One such moment, had been noticing that Santa¡¯s handwriting just happened to be identical to his mom¡¯s. Once that childhood lie was gently exposed for what it was by his father, it hadn¡¯t taken him very long to apply the same logical thinking to religion. And, of course, actually reading the Bible had cemented his opinion of the Abrahamic God as a mass murdering, utterly evil entity, by every objective definition of the word. Galdurath might¡¯ve been a bit self important, but he was not the kind to, for example, murder everyone on Arcadia by drowning an entire planet, or maul children by ordering the local wildlife around. Probably. That said, Drake made a note to look into both his and Laurelin¡¯s recorded divine acts, in this world. Drake doubted Laurelin had any sketchy actions in her past, but Galdurath seemed like the type who would, and had, done whatever he had to do to keep his precious home intact, by any means necessary. It was a good idea to know exactly who his new allies were.


    ¡°Status¡­¡± Drake said quietly, whilst thinking of the God of Magic. Drake could¡¯ve sworn he felt a disembodied sense of irritation, but when he opened his eyes, it was to a floating blue screen with his handsome face in the top left corner, above which, was his name. He smirked. The layout was slightly different, streamlined, one might say, but the similarities were uncanny. ¡°Say, Laurelin¡­who designed the layout for these Status sheets?¡±


    She gave him a knowing smirk. ¡°Why, that would be my dear husband.¡±


    Drake chuckled. ¡°And uhh¡­I take it the honorable Galdurath had Dungeons and Dragons on his home planet? Another Dimensional Echo, perhaps?¡±


    She giggled lightly, amused by his reaction. ¡°Caverns and Wyverns, actually.¡±


    My eyes widened. ¡°Oh, please tell me there¡¯s a variant here on Arcadia!¡± There was not much Drake had liked about the Earth. It was a violent, merciless place whose beauty was belied by the brutal nature of its natural laws. To survive, one had to consume another living thing¡¯s energy, and despite not liking that, it was just how things worked. You either ate, and lived, or ended up as food for animals, or plants, so they could live. But D&D had been a bright spot in an otherwise depressing timeline. For a time, anyway. All groups eventually drifted apart, his being no exception.


    He''d actually started the group at one of his first jobs, as an after school counselor/teacher in what had essentially been a daycare for both ''normal'' kids and those on the autism spectrum. When the time had come to sadly move on from that part-time job, the D&D group''s parents had asked him to keep things going since the kiddos had so much fun with it, and he had agreed, after working out where they''d host things, and most importantly, when. Despite being almost twice their age, they''d continued playing D&D for many years, and those memories of hijinks and hilarity would never leave him. But this was a new life, and more D&D meant there would be more memories.


    Laurelin tilted her head. ¡°I¡¯ve personally never cared for it¡­but I believe the nerds of my beloved world call their version Dungeons and Deities. My Galdurath was quite amused by it.¡±


    Drake grinned, turning back to his magical character sheet. ¡°Mark me, D&D. I shall play you, again.¡± He¡¯d been a DM in his past life, so either he could make a group, or join one. Like most, he¡¯d been a player before he rose to share Ao¡¯s role as Overgod at the head of a pack of nerds. He wouldn¡¯t mind being a PC again, though. And judging by his Status Magic, he essentially was one, in a sense.


    (I¡¯m just going to make the actual Status sheets and put them here, rather than describe every single thing on them every time it comes up. Enjoy.)


    ¡°So¡­¡± Drake started, as Laurelin stood beside him, eyebrows raised, ¡°My int is great¡­slightly higher strength, I like it, but uhh¡­how high do these numbers go? Is one hundred and three a lot? Do stats increase by more than one point per level?¡±


    ¡°One point per level, usually¡­but I don¡¯t know how your level and charisma has already¡­¡± She chuckled then. ¡°It seems sweet-talking my husband gave you experience. And extra charisma points. Makes some sense, he is a God after all. You must have really gotten through to him for that to have happened enough to level you up¡­¡±


    Drake took the opportunity to make good on putting in a good word for the God of Magic. He¡¯d never played wingman to a God, but if anything would raise his charisma some more¡­


    ¡°I think he¡¯s just¡­frustrated that I even have to be here, which is fair. Were I in his position, I¡¯d be irritated too, being kinda of replaced with a seemingly unqualified stranger. But we reached an understanding. Once I prove somewhat useful I¡¯m sure he¡¯ll come around. He didn¡¯t immediately shoot down the idea of us being friends, at least.¡± Drake nodded confidently. ¡°It¡¯s a start.¡±


    Laurelin¡¯s expression was a mask of a slight smile, and Drake had no doubt she¡¯d guessed what he was trying to do. But she made no mention of it, so Drake assumed he¡¯d been successful. His eyes were drawn to his Feats and Minor Blessings section, as it updated. ¡°Ally¡­of the Gods¡­ten percent universal experience bonus!? Fuck yes!¡± That reaction got another chuckle from the Goddess of Life. ¡°Now¡­let¡¯s try some skills before the school day ends completely.¡±


    He swiped to the side of the status screen, and brought up his depressingly tiny list of skills.


    ¡°Huh. So I have¡­Dragon Palm¡­damages and stuns¡­and a basic melee attack¡­and no magic? I thought I¡¯d be able to manipulate magical energy?¡± He asked towards Laurelin, as he noted the colors around his attacks. Yet another D&D reference no doubt. Green indicated At Will attacks, or Cantrips, red meant they were either Encounter powers, or had a significant several-minute cooldown, and while he didn''t have any Daily class skills yet, he guessed their border would be gray, black, or white.


    She nodded. ¡°Manipulating raw magic isn¡¯t so much a skill as something you can do because your body has such a large amount of it. With an Intelligence stat on par with a Adamantine or Runic level Adventurer, you should have enough magic power to fuel whatever you desire. I¡¯ll let you try out Pyrokinesis, before we need to depart in time to arrive for afternoon classes, including meeting the Headmaster, and assigning you a room.¡±


    Drake nodded. ¡°Fair. I¡¯ll try to grasp using magic quickly. So¡­how exactly does one manipulate¡­raw magic?¡±


    Laurelin tilted her head. ¡°Hmm. It¡¯s¡­hmm.¡± After about a minute, she snapped her fingers. ¡°You saw The Last Airbender, right? My records said it was a favorite of yours.¡±


    Drake nodded. ¡°Greatest cartoon ever made. Not even a contest. I think I know where you¡¯re going with this, Goddess.¡± She chuckled, and gestured for him to try. Drake closed his eyes, and visualized the magical energy that was flowing through his new, objectively hot body in a way and amount that simply didn¡¯t exist in his old universe. He gasped slightly, as he felt it. In multiple parts of his body, his Chakras perhaps, pools of significant roiling energy. ¡°How umm¡­wow that is something. How do I make it into fire?¡±


    ¡°Magic, at least in our world, responds to one¡¯s Will. If you have the willpower to imagine something, you can usually guide the magic into whatever form or pattern you desire. Like fire.¡±


    ¡°Alright.¡± Drake muttered, eyes still closed, visualizing. ¡°Think¡­flamethrower.¡± Three images stood out in his head. Actual real life Earth flamethrowers circa WWII, a Charizard, which basically was synonymous with the fire typed move, and Phoenix King Ozai, high on Comet powered energy, burning the world with unhinged glee. Probably because she¡¯d mentioned Avatar. His eyes snapped open, and his hand rose, pointing into the air. He felt the flames form, swirl, condense in his palm, and then surge into the air. Drake blinked as the force of it actually had recoil, and he briefly wondered if he could make myself fly like a human rocket. If he ever found himself in the air for whatever reason, he¡¯d try it with four limbs.


    Remembering Laurelin¡¯s words and Aang¡¯s first attempt with this element, Drake lessened the output with the force of his will, and guided the flames down into his palm, keeping them alive as he focused. He walked away from Laurelin carefully, and then very slowly started weaving the flames around him, exactly like a firebender. It was, Drake discovered, a great way to get a feel for manipulating magic, which became easier and easier to do as time passed. With his will focused, he could draw on the magic from the back of his mind, and stopped and restarted his ¡®firebending¡¯ several times to get a feel for it.


    He was so into it, he nearly lost track of time, and about halfway through his total reserve of magic, he stopped with his best attempt at a firebender¡¯s flare, making the flames into a dragon. That, was still a bit beyond him though as the final surge of flame just spread out wider, rather than taking on a draconic shape. Laurelin clapped, and Drake heard Falkor let out a roar that resembled a bark. Bowing to his audience, and properly sweaty, he caught his breath and walked over to them. ¡°I think I¡¯ve got the hang of it. Thank you, Goddess. That example was perfect.¡±


    She chuckled. ¡°I barely explained anything. You have a knack for this, Drake Long. I think if you check your skills, you¡¯ll find that they¡¯ve changed.¡± Drake did as she suggested , and sure enough, he now had Firebending listed under his Dragon Palm and basic melee attack. It was a stance, apparently, and would increase his party¡¯s attack power, while he used it. A dark grin came over his face. He planned on taking a page from the Goblin Slayer. But with fire. When he finally got to start adventuring. Drake figured the school would probably have them clear out weaker monsters at some point. It¡¯d be an incredible waste if they never actually utilized their top tier magic skills to wipe out monster hordes.


    Laurelin¡¯s method of transporting him, enough clothes for a week (which was also seven days, here) and his various course books (which he would also have to buy in the future), was a carriage drawn by pegasi, which were apparently as rare as unicorns on Earth, in that science minded people thought they didn¡¯t exist. Laurelin had been evasive when Drake asked why she¡¯d guided them to the God¡¯s realm in the north, but her expression, and mention of her people¡¯s obsession with their wings and feathers, told him all he needed to know. It also confirmed that the mortals on Arcadia were not immune to the barbarity the mortals on Earth had also experienced.


    The sky spires of Primus surrounded the academy, a primarily white stone series of skyscraping pointed towers that stretched impossibly high, and as they got closer he realized, stood taller and wider than anything Drake had witnessed on the Earth. The Galdurian Arc Warden Academy was quite a sight, from above. Nestled between several skyscrapers in the ancient city of Primus, the campus nevertheless had plenty of room, and seemed to connect to the city at large with usefully placed footpaths. There were three main buildings that formed the central campus, with multiple, much simpler buildings on either side that had to be dormitories, separated no doubt by gender, and distance. As if that had ever stopped teenagers.


    Directly and centrally behind the main campus building, was a long rectangular field that reminded him of Soccer, or what Pok¨¦mon Trainers faced off on. In the center was a golden eye surrounded by a white pyramid, and the majority of the field was a rich blue. As they descended, Drake saw the field was trimmed with gold, confirming for him that blue and gold seemed to be associated with the Gods, or at least Galdurath.


    The grand entrance of the academy was framed by towering ivory columns, blue runic etchings glowing faintly with latent power, and beneath the statues atop them; accurate depictions of both Laurelin and Galdurath that had been carved in gold and silver respectively with clear and obvious skill. The cobbled walkways leading inward were lined with floating lanterns, their glow shifting to reflect the hours of the day, and winding bridges spanned small artificial rivers filled with bioluminescent fish that resembled Koi fish from Earth. Vendors operated stalls along the academy¡¯s campus, selling enchanted parchments, rare alchemical ingredients, and a metric ton of what seemed like magical amulets, rings, and necklaces, items that probably took up minor slots on one''s person, but improved their overall power, for a steep price, no doubt.


    Drake¡¯s arrival was nothing short of a spectacle. The pegasus-drawn carriage, gilded and pristine, descended with practiced grace into the academy¡¯s main courtyard, the winged beasts landing upon the intricately carved stone before the statues of the Gods with a synchronized beat of their hooves. The moment he stepped down, he could feel the attention shift, eyes drawn to him as if by some unseen force. Laurelin, disguised as a mortal elf now, and playing the role of his mother, exuded a quiet regality in her new posh noblewoman attire and hairstyle that only heightened the curiosity surrounding them as they headed towards the main building. He could hear the whispers, hushed and hurried, as students clad in uniforms like his own murmured theories about his origins.


    ¡°Who is that?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve never seen him before, with a face like that, I''d remember. Did he just transfer?¡±


    ¡°Look at the way she carries herself. That woman¡­ she¡¯s no ordinary noble.¡±


    "She has to be from a major House...but which one?"


    Even the faculty seemed intrigued as they entered the main hall of the building. Professors watched them, some with mild curiosity, others with narrowed eyes filled with calculation. To Drake''s eyes, not one of them would''ve looked out of place at a Harry Potter convention. The interior of the academy was nothing short of breathtaking. The ceiling soared high above them, enchanted to resemble the nebula-filled sky outside with soft golden hues of the late morning hour. Immense chandeliers fashioned from sparkling rainbow colored crystal floated in midair, and the glowing arcane gemstones pulsed softly with power.


    The marble floor beneath them was polished to a near-mirrored shine, etched with intricate golden filigree on every single tile. Towering columns lined the hall, each wrapped in a spiraling flow of softly glowing arcane script that drifted like living ink upon the stone, constantly rewriting itself as if scribing an unending spell, likely of protection from all kinds of magics. Along the walls, massive tapestries illustrated the academy¡¯s rich history, depicting grand battles, pivotal moments of magical discovery, and the formation of Arcadia¡¯s greatest Heroes. Students from presumably higher years passed through the hall in groups on their way to their next class. Only a few occasionally paused to glance in Drake¡¯s direction before quickly moving on, whispering in hushed voices. As they walked deeper into the grand entryway, the scent of parchment, enchanted ink, and aged tomes mixed with the varied perfumes the upper classes used, resulting in a not-unpleasant, but potent aroma.


    Inside the academy¡¯s central tower, Headmaster Veydris awaited them. His office was a vast chamber, its vaulted ceiling covered in shifting constellations that mirrored the sky outside. Shelves upon shelves of ancient tomes stretched from floor to ceiling, each bound in leather embossed with golden filigree, glowing faintly with protective enchantments. The scent of old parchment mixed with the lingering aroma of rare incense, a blend of knowledge and tradition that permeated the air. A grand circular desk, carved from an immense slab of dark obsidian, stood at the center of the room, its surface covered in neatly arranged stacks of scrolls, enchanted quills, and arcane artifacts that pulsed faintly with dormant energy.


    Behind the Headmaster, was an enormous enchanted window did not simply reveal the outside world, but displayed shifting depictions of history itself, from grand battles fought in the age of legends against powerful Demon Lords, to celestial charts that predicted the flow of the leylines across Arcadia. Arcane scripts hovered in midair around the frame, providing onlookers with a brief but informative blurb about the scene being depicted. Drake tried not to get distracted by the slideshow of interesting lore. Being very much a ravenous consumer of various lore about various worlds, Drake considered himself an expert on histories ranging from Arda to Azeroth, though, almost none of that knowledge was likely to help him in his new life, which was a depressing thought. He took mental notes from the scrolling images, and resolved to look up the key words he could remember in the academy library at some point.


    Headmaster Veydris himself radiated an aura of composed authority, his silver eyes sharp and wrinkled with the weight of centuries. His presence was neither oppressive nor overtly welcoming, but one of calculated observation, as if he measured the worth of every individual that stood before him. His long, deep-blue robes shimmered subtly with interwoven magic, layered with runes of wisdom and power. His fingers, adorned with rings containing stored spells, rested upon the surface of his mahogany brown desk as he regarded them with quiet intensity. His hair resembled Galdurath''s, probably on purpose, with the only difference being a braid of silver locks that encircled his wizened skull. He acknowledged Laurelin with the barest inclination of his head.


    ¡°You walk among Mortals today, Goddess Laurelin.¡± He noted, his voice steady.


    ¡°I do, Headmaster.¡± She answered simply, offering nothing more than a fake smile. Then, with a subtle shift in her demeanor, she continued. "Drake Long is under my direct protection, as well as my husband''s, and though he may appear unfamiliar to your records, he is not without merit. You will find him a fast learner, and soon, his presence here will make sense." She paused, letting her words settle. "Additionally, he is not alone. His companion, Falkor, will be visiting on occasion." Her voice was light, almost casual, but the weight of her authority made it clear that this was not a request.


    The Headmaster frowned. "You know we do not allow pets-"


    "Falkor is no mere pet." Laurelin answered, enjoying the old man''s discomfort more than perhaps she should have. "He is a Dragon, the first of a new breed of magical creatures who will undoubtedly aid us against Dagorath''s dark abominations, should they arrive with the next Demon Lord. He is intelligent, kind, and can speak and understand our tongue, so if he violates any of your precious rules, simply explain them to him, and he shall follow them. My main concern, is that you do not try shooting him down. You will not like his response to being attacked." She provided a physical description of Falkor then, and the Headmaster nodded, resigned to simply accepting that his campus would now be playing host to a dragon, sometimes, apparently. Gods.


    The Headmaster studied Drake in silence, his gaze piercing and irritated. Then, with a measured breath, he retrieved a document and stamped it with a glowing sigil. ¡°Welcome, Drake Long. You will be assigned to Class Seven, year one. You will stay with your Instructor and your classmates for the duration of your time here, so I would advise you to make a good first impression. You will be informed when your...Dragon...arrives to visit you, and will be financially responsible for anything he destroys.¡± Drake nodded, doubting Falkor would break anything intentionally. The meeting was over as swiftly as it had begun, but the weight of it lingered as they departed.


    As they stepped outside the office, the heavy wooden doors shutting behind them with a soft thud, Laurelin turned to Drake. Her expression was softer now, the sharp authority she had worn in front of the Headmaster fading. She placed a hand on his shoulder and gave him a small nod of approval. "This will be difficult, but you have endured much worse. Learn quickly, trust your instincts, beware your fellow classmate''s goals, and do not be afraid to carve your own path," She said, her voice carrying the quiet certainty of someone who knew his potential far better than he did. "You are not alone, even if you feel like it."


    With those parting words, she stepped away, vanishing into the grand corridors of the academy without another glance. The moment she left, the quiet intensity of the situation caught up with Drake as he realized he was, in fact, very much completely on his own, in a world he knew precious little about. He exhaled and looked around, realizing that without Laurelin leading the way, he had no idea where he was supposed to go.


    He hesitated at the grand junction of twisting corridors and arched passageways, each lined with glowing runes that pulsed gently like the heartbeat of the academy. The students moving past him seemed to know exactly where they were going, while he stood in place, trying to make sense of the path ahead. After a few minutes of aimless wandering, he found himself in what appeared to be a maintenance corridor, filled with floating dust particles illuminated by the soft golden light of hovering lanterns.


    ¡°Lost already, are you?¡±


    Drake turned to see an elderly elf with platinum blonde hair and a light mustache, leaning against a broom, his pointed ears twitching slightly with amusement. His long hair was tied back neatly, and his deep green robes bore the faint insignia of the academy¡¯s maintenance staff. His eyes twinkled with wisdom and an undeniable kindness. He had the look of someone who had seen countless students come and go, yet still found amusement in their struggles.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Drake admitted with a sheepish grin. "First day, new place, kind of a maze. I''m trying to get to Class Seven."


    The janitor chuckled, resting both hands on the broom handle as if it were a staff of great importance. "Ah, the academy does have a way of humbling even the brightest minds. I am Faelar, caretaker of these halls." He gestured down a side corridor. "Class Seven, you say? Follow the blue sigils on the walls. They will lead you to the main classrooms, which are marked on the top of their doors with two numbers The first is your class, and the second, your year. You''ll want class Seven-One."


    Drake nodded, glancing at the softly glowing symbols before turning back to Faelar. "Thank you, Faelar. I appreciate it."


    The elf smiled, tapping his broom lightly on the marble floor. "Pay attention to the details, young one. The academy is more than just books and battlefields. Sometimes, the smallest things hold the greatest secrets. Now go, before you are late."


    Drake gave him a nod of thanks before following the path, and eventually finding a door marked with the number he sought. He paused at the entryway, tried to ignore the weight and importance of the impression he was about to make, and knocked, straightening his uniform and his leather backpack holding his books, as he readied himself. "Enter." Came an authoritative baritone.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    As he stepped into the room, the eyes of the students of Class Seven shifted toward him with intrigue, some openly staring, others whispering among themselves. The students were arranged in three neat rows of four desks, each seat occupied by someone who, in some way, exuded talent or breeding beyond the average. The air practically vibrated with unspoken assessments, each person weighing his presence against their expectations. Drake eyed them, in turn, but only briefly, as he met his new Instructor.


    Standing at the front of the room was an absolute mountain of a man, or rather, a Leonid, as he believed their race was called. The Instructor towered over the assembled students, his physique closer to that of a warlord than an academic. His crimson blood red mane, streaked with silver, was combed back loosely, revealing a feline face marked by experience but softened by the warmth in his golden eyes. Despite his sheer size and the undeniable power radiating from his presence, there was an air of calm about him, a quiet confidence that made him feel more approachable than intimidating. He was not dressed in the flowing robes of the other professors but in a well-fitted, dark blue longcoat that sat on his massive frame over a red plaid undershirt. His attire was simple, stylish, but practical, the kind worn by someone who had no patience for unnecessary frills.


    The lion man regarded Drake for a moment, his expression unreadable, before giving a slow nod. "You must be our newest addition." He said, his deep baritone rumbling through the room with an effortless authority. "Drake Long. Welcome to Class Seven. I am called Aslan. I will be your Instructor during your time here, as I help you and your peers ascend to the level and competence of an Arc Warden. Just so you''re aware, we will be having a new student join us tomorrow, as well. Introduce yourself." A large, clawed paw gestured at the gathered students.


    Drake couldn''t help but let out a small chuckle under his breath. Yet another Dimensional Echo. He had half a mind to ask if Aslan was a king in another life. Instead, he simply nodded and stared at the back wall of the room, avoiding eye contact and controlling his nerves as he said, "Hello there. I''m Drake...uhh, I''m fairly new to casting magic, and to the customs and rules of your impressive city, but I''ll do my best not to drag the class down. I look forward to working with you all." He lowered his head just enough to convey respect, and then took his seat. Murmurs followed him, wondering how a ''newb'' at only level three had made it into the Academy. Apparently, people could tell what level he was just by looking hard enough.


    "Good. Let us begin. Time waits for no one, and we''ve a limited amount of it." Instructor Aslan turned away and picked up a thick tome from his desk, flipping it open with a practiced ease. "We will continue today, with the history of the Seventh Demon Lord invasion, and the varied effects on Arcadian society that the invasion caused both during and after the Hero Valerian managed to slay the Demon Lord, and carve his name into legend." Aslan gestured at the book as he spoke, and Drake''s eyes widened, as it displayed actual images projected and formed by the words within the pages. They sure knew how to make learning fun, here.


    He split his attention then, as he felt far too many eyes shifting his way, and not on the lesson. For his part, he had, almost immediately, noticed the bombshell of a blonde elf in the second middle row of the room. She had piercing emerald eyes, and sat with an air of aristocratic confidence, her uniform immaculate and her posture flawless. The way she held her chin slightly raised gave the impression that she was used to being in charge, or at the very least, being the most important person in the room. Her gaze flickered towards Drake as she simultaneously took in the lesson, not with idle curiosity, but sharp calculation, as if she were gauging his worth in an instant. Drake met her gaze, and felt his body''s pulse quicken. He shot her a genuine smile, but she seemingly ignored him, and focused back on the lesson.


    Next to her, a smirking, tabby furred cat girl leaned back in her chair, arms crossed behind her head, the glint in her large eyes hinting at mischief. She had an effortless, almost roguish energy about her, like someone who had spent just as much time breaking rules as she had following them. The contrast between her and the blonde elf made it clear that if there was a hierarchy here, she was the wildcard who disrupted it regularly. She was more openly staring at Drake, but had turned away in disgust when he smiled at the blonde.


    A dark-haired and composed human student sat at the front left of the class, his posture rigid and his expression focused as he ignored Drake''s existence, and focused on the lesson. Unlike the others, he did not bother with outward displays of authority or charisma. He had the air of a Class Representative, and Drake had a feeling he also boasted the highest scores on written exams.


    A towering brute of a teen, another leonid, sat near the back next to Drake, his massive fur covered arms crossed over his chest. His mane was youthful and black, shorter than Aslan''s, and his eyes were a bright red, unsettling with his leonine pupils. His uniform strained against his muscular frame, and his expression was unreadable at first as their eyes met, until he gave a slow, approving grunt, as if deciding on the spot that Drake met some unspoken criteria of strength. There was no malice in his gaze, only a simple, practical assessment. Strength recognized strength. Drake was just glad his neighbor approved of him.


    On Drake''s left, also in the back, was a silver-furred Fox youth who had clearly never bothered brushing the silver clump between his foxlike ears. He had a lazy grin, and lounged against his desk, looking entirely unbothered by the tension in the room. His sharp, foxlike features carried an air of amusement, as if he found the entire situation entertaining rather than concerning. His grin widened as Drake made eye contact, and with an exaggerated stretch, he was the first to quietly say something to him, having noticed his smile towards the blonde elf.


    ¡°Well, well. Looks like we¡¯ve got a new contender.¡±


    Before Drake could respond, another student shushed the silver fox from the middle row, a tan-skinned girl with dark brown, tightly coiled black hair adorned with small golden rings. She wore a confident smirk, her piercing amber eyes shining with irritation. "Quiet Leif. Pay attention, newbie." She focused back on the lesson, and had the vibe of someone who had had to struggle to afford to come to a school this prestigious, and had every intention of making the most of every second.


    Seated beside her, a dark elf with smooth obsidian skin and striking dark green eyes folded her arms across her chest. Her long silver-white hair reminded him of a Drow. She said nothing, but had flashed Drake a smile on his way to his seat. Now, she was paying attention.


    Behind the Dark Elf, as they were apparently called, a towering lizardkin with smooth emerald-green scales tapped his claws against the wooden desk. His bright yellow eyes locked onto Drake with an analytical gaze, and they shared a nod of respect. Apparently, seeing the black maned leonid give his approval was enough for the lizard man. Drake liked their vibe, and hoped he could keep up with such obviously skilled warriors that, he had a feeling, would be on the front line in melee combat with him.


    To the left middle side of the room, was a crimson scaled merman with well groomed crimson hair and looks that rivaled Drake''s own. He leaned back with an easy grin. His clothing was slightly more disheveled than the others, and a well-worn spellbook sat open on his desk, its pages covered in handwritten notes. He too gave Drake a nod, before looking back at the Instructor, who seemed to notice all the looks Drake''s way, but tolerated them. They were teens with brilliant minds, he couldn''t rightly expect them to ignore a shiny new mystery dropped right in the middle of them.


    The last member of the class was right in front of Drake, and sensing Aslan''s tacit approval of the class looking at him, she turned right around, with a bright smile, but spoke quietly to him so as not to interrupt. He leaned forward, so he could hear the buxom honey blonde bunny girl. "I''m Tala! If you want the notes on the other lectures we''ve had, just let me know!"


    Up close, he noted some beastkin had more ''human'' in them than others. Like the cat girl, and Tala, the only exception being her bunny nose, which only further accentuated her cuteness. She was by far the class member closest to full adulthood judging by how her bust was straining her blazer, with long brownish blonde hair that sat between her long rabbit ears, and genuinely kind vibes. "Thank you, Tala." He murmured smoothly, "I''ll take you up on the offer, after class." That seemed to overjoy her for some reason, and she turned back to the lesson, fluffy tail twitching in what appeared to be joy.


    History class was nothing like the dry, monotonous lectures Drake had expected. Instead of dusty textbooks and endless recitations, Instructor Aslan used magic to bring the past to life. With a flick of his fingers, glowing symbols coalesced in the air before unraveling into vivid, three-dimensional projections of legendary battles. Vast armies of high tier adventurers, their armor gleaming under phantom sunlight, clashed against monstrous foes that included orcs, goblins, trolls, and other horrific variations of Arcadia''s races, mutated by darkness. Their swords carved through the air with precision and power. Ancient castles crumbled under the assault of arcane sieges, and spellcasters wove dazzling displays of magic, their energy rippling through the illusions, and sometimes striking a student, harmlessly, but with enough of a jolt to focus their attention back on the lesson. It seemed that Aslan was directing the projections, in conjunction with the book.


    Drake found himself leaning forward, enthralled by the sheer spectacle of it all. This wasn¡¯t just storytelling. It was an invitation to witness history firsthand. He observed how warriors moved, how spells were seamlessly interwoven with physical strikes, how battle formations dictated the flow of combat, and what a proper Arcadian war actually looked like. The Instructor narrated with an air of reverence, his voice rising and falling in perfect cadence with the ebb and flow of each historical moment of significance that would be on the test. Aslan was clearly in his element, and his lesson was an art form, a dissemination of knowledge wrapped in spectacle, meant to ignite a sense of wonder and respect for those who had shaped the world before them.


    At one point, a massive spectral knight, the Arc Warden Valerian himself, standing at least fifteen feet tall from an Enlarge spell, charged forward, his greatsword carving a flaming arc through the illusory battlefield as he went blade to blade with an even larger orc. The monstrosities face was tattooed and pierced, large tusks jutted up from his round, powerful jaw, and dark runes rippled across his musculature in place of armor, the Dark God''s blessing clear by the horns and leathery wings that sprouted from his back. The force of the Demon Lord''s swing sent projected adventurers scattering like embers in the wind, while Valerian stood strong, and alone. Drake barely suppressed a whistle of appreciation. He could almost feel the heat radiating from the fiery steel, even though he knew it was all just an illusion.


    ¡°Pay attention, students,¡± Instructor Aslan¡¯s voice carried over the magical din of the display. "This was the Hero Valerian¡¯s last stand against the Seventh Demon Lord. Note his footwork. His stance. his unflinching resolve in the face of pure evil. The way he anticipates his opponent¡¯s strikes before they happen. These are not just relics of history. They are lessons for your future."


    By the time lunch rolled around, Drake quickly departed the classroom and was one of the first to the lunch line, thanks to a helpful and timely directive finger-point from Faelar. Once he had his rather decent meal of meat covered in some sort of gravy-like sauce, what looked like and had the consistency of mashed potatoes, and something the lunch lady had assured him was delicious for a side dish, he opted for solitude at an empty table near the back of the large room, hoping for a quiet meal to process everything he had learned so far. However, his solitude was short-lived.


    He barely had time to take a bite of his food before a shadow fell over his tray. The blonde elf from earlier approached with an air of regal confidence, setting her tray down across from him with deliberate grace. Her arrival was quiet, composed, and yet undeniably purposeful. Her gorgeous emerald eyes flicked toward him, lingering a moment longer than necessary before she turned back to her plate. She made a show of appearing indifferent, but Drake caught the subtle way her fingers drummed against the tray, perhaps a sign of nervousness? Her presence alone carried a weight of expectation, as if she had already decided something about him, and he wasn¡¯t sure if that was a good or bad thing.


    After a pause, she finally spoke, her voice smooth and measured. "You don''t belong here."


    Drake raised an eyebrow, swallowing his bite of food before he spoke. "I paid tuition like everyone else."


    She studied him again, this time with a hint of curiosity breaking through the practiced veneer of aristocratic composure. "It wasn¡¯t meant as an insult. Just an observation. You do not walk or speak like the scion of an Arc Warden family, and I have never seen you before. Your level is too low to afford this place on your own. Who is your sponsor?"


    Drake smirked, and projected confidence. "I''m afraid I can''t say...just know that I''m here to learn, grow, and...shake things up. In a good way."


    She didn¡¯t answer right away. Instead, she took a slow sip from her goblet, her gaze never quite leaving him. "Interesting."


    A moment later, the tabby cat girl from their class sauntered over and plopped into the seat beside the elf, grinning at Drake with an expression that was equal parts curiosity and mischief. She leaned forward slightly, tapping her clawed fingers on the table. "So, what''s the story, new guy? Drop in from the sky? Get teleported in from some hidden kingdom? Or are you secretly an exiled prince?"


    Drake arched an eyebrow. "None of the above...although, I will admit, Teleporting was involved. But that''s all you''re getting." He smirked at her as well, and she raised her eyebrows, ready to retort, with sass no doubt.


    Before she could, the towering black maned brute of a leonid approached, carrying a tray stacked with enough food for three people. He set it down with a decisive thud beside Drake, and gave him a nod. His gigantic frame made an imposing wall between Drake and the rest of the room. Without a word, he dug in, sharp teeth making quick work of the roasted meat. The table shook slightly with each heavy movement, but the sheer normalcy of the act somehow made it even more intimidating. It seemed he''d be introducing himself after his hunger was sated, which was fine with Drake, who had no intention of interrupting him.


    The dark-haired tactician arrived next, his movements precise and measured, as if every step he took was premeditated. He took the seat opposite Drake, as the cat girl said, "Vincent! You were right, the newb Teleported in from...somewhere." The smart teen nodded, and adjusted his glasses, giving Drake an appraising look. "Perhaps he simply tested at an advanced level, bypassing the standard entrance examinations due to his Arc Warden potential. It wouldn''t be the first time." His tone was neutral, but seemingly friendly, or at least as friendly as nerds like him could be. He placed his tray down without hesitation and folded his hands in front of him, studying Drake as though he were a puzzle waiting to be solved.


    Finally, the silver-haired fox trickster strolled up on the other side of the blonde elf, balancing an apple between his five fingers before casually tossing it into the air and catching it. "You all are asking the wrong questions. The real question is, how long does he plan to last?" He smirked, sliding into the other seat beside the elf, his fox-like ears twitching. "Hope you don¡¯t mind the company, newbie. We tend to adopt interesting cases."


    Drake smirked. "Not at all. But I have a feeling this isn¡¯t just about making friends."


    The tabby cat let out a mewl of laughter. "He catches on quick! Most people don¡¯t just appear in Class Seven without a name that carries weight. We had to find out if you¡¯re some kind of hidden prodigy, a noble¡¯s illegitimate heir, or just someone lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time. Figured we¡¯d do a little investigatin''."


    "Subtle," Drake remarked dryly. "But if any of those apply to me...it would certainly be luck." His vague answer made the cat girl subtly grit her teeth. Like pulling water from a desert stone, this guy.


    Rose finally spoke again, her voice smooth and composed. "Since we''ll be working together, it¡¯s only natural to gauge what you can do. A weak link in a team can be disastrous, and I prefer to know what I¡¯m dealing with before that happens."


    Drake took a bite of his food and nodded. "Fair enough. I suppose I should ask the same. Who am I dealing with?"


    The cat girl couldn''t help but answer first, as she leaned back, balancing her chair on two legs. "Nyara. My old man is an adventurer, and I¡¯m planning on being even better than him. I''m what you''d call a Sword Mage. But despite that, I stay the fuck out of melee combat. The sword increases my range, but it''s not really meant for parrying or stabbing. Too fragile."


    The blonde studied him, as if weighing the truth in his words. "I am Rose Valcrest. My family has trained Arc Wardens for generations. My specialty as a Sage, is the healing arts given by the Goddess Laurelin, and enhancement magic. I''d like to know yours, before everyone else speaks."


    Drake glanced around, and noted that when Rose spoke, everyone else in Class Seven listened. For varying reasons no doubt, but even the silver fox teen stayed quiet when she spoke. He nodded, and said, "In the interest of honesty...I''m very much a newbie. I have three skills so far, my level is single digits, but you''re right, my potential was classed as an Arc Warden''s, so I was brought here."


    "And your class?" Rose asked.


    Drake nodded again, she''d shared hers, so it was only fair. "My Status listed it as Monk."


    From the other side of the hulking leonid, came the hissing tones of the emerald scaled lizard teen who''d apparently sat down without anyone noticing. "What...the fuck...issss a Monk?"


    Drake blinked, and looked around, as the others echoed his question. "Do...do you guys really not have Monks, here?"


    Rose answered him. "No...none of us have ever heard that word, let alone what class it is or what it does." Her beautiful features furrowed. "Explain, please. If we''re to work together, we need to know."


    "A Monk is..." Drake started, as he struggled to find the right words, and then settled for what would help Rose the most. "I''m a melee fighter. Most of my attacks are close to mid range. My skills so far seem to deal damage and have a brief stun...I don''t know what they''ll be like as I level up, since apparently...I''m the first Monk here. I''ll probably need light armor so I can move around and dodge, and my fists are my primary weapon. There''s more, but that should suffice for now."


    Rose smiled at him, and Drake felt his heart quicken again. She really was just absurdly beautiful. "That was a useful assessment, Drake." Her gorgeous emerald eyes had him snared. "I look forward to learning your class with you, and seeing how you grow. There is...an air of destiny about you that''s..." She let her sentence trail off, and Nyara butted in, seizing the pause to fill the air with her sassy tone.


    "So wait, you punch things until they die? That''s it!? What kind of Arc Warden doesn''t use a weapon? What kind of damage dealing melee class doesn''t have at least medium armor? You''re gonna die, kid. The Goblin archers will turn you into a pincushion before you ever get close."


    Drake smirked at her. "Actually, if I''m right about my future abilities, catching things like arrows or bolts will be within my skill set. I''ll be just fine. Now, let''s hear from the rest of the class, shall we? Names too, if you all don''t mind. I''ll try to remember them."


    The dark-haired class rep in the making adjusted his glasses slightly, making them purposefully obscure his sharp, narrow eyes as they caught the light. "Vincent, of the noble House of Kei. I''m an Enchanter. Strategy and tactics are my specialty. I study how to control the battlefield before the fight even starts. Most charge in thinking strength or speed alone will decide a match, but positioning, information, and strategy win wars." He adjusted the cuffs of his uniform. "I analyze patterns, predict enemy movements, and manipulate engagements to ensure victory. My spells are largely supportive and controlling, barriers, illusions, and forced movement effects to dictate the flow of combat. I can also use a few decent attack spells, enhancement magic, and low tier healing and magic restoration spells."


    Vincent then glanced at Drake, a knowing glint behind his spectacles. "If you''re planning to fight with just your fists, you''d better learn how to think ahead, or you''ll be a dead man walking the moment a real battle begins."


    The leonid brute finished tearing into a piece of meat and finally spoke, his voice deep and steady. "Garret."


    Drake turned his head to look at the hulking leonid and waited for more. Garret swallowed his bite, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and added, "I''m what you''d call a Knight. Tanking is what I do best. Holding the line. Taking hits on my shield, so others don¡¯t have to."


    He then gave Drake an appraising look, his red eyes narrowing slightly. "Getting up close to punch things, though? Takes guts. Even the best Arc Wardens prefer attacking the spawn of Dagorath from a distance."


    Drake smirked. "Well, I don¡¯t really have much of a choice. It''s what my class is built for."


    Garret let out a low chuckle, nodding approvingly. "Then I hope you¡¯re fast. Otherwise, we¡¯re gonna need to find you some better armor."


    Finally, the silver-haired trickster smirked. "Leif. I hide in the shadows, and I''m quite fast. I use knives and a bow, but all my skills are suited to gathering information, and dealing quick bursts of damage. If you see me out in the open and in melee combat, I''m having a bad day."


    Drake chuckled. "A Rogue, then? I understand. If I ever see you struggling, I''ll lend a fist or two." The fox man smirked, but seemed to appreciate that.


    Before they could continue, another tray clattered onto the table beside the tabby colored cat girl. Tala, the lapine girl, had arrived, her long ears twitching as she settled beside the cat girl smoothly, having no doubt already heard their conversation even from the line. "You guys are being too nosy," She said with a cheerful huff, her voice lilting playfully. She shot Drake a reassuring smile, one that felt far more welcoming than the calculated assessments from the others. "If he wants to punch things, let him. I think it''s very interesting that you''re a class we''ve never heard of. You must be special, eh Rose?"


    The elf coughed, only the faintest of flushes marking her cheeks, but then it faded as fast as it had appeared, and she nodded. "If he''s the only Monk, then one would assume he''s special." The two girls shared a silent, intense stare then, and Drake blinked, wondering if he was sensing what he thought he was sensing. Maybe if his charisma had been naturally higher, he might''ve been more sure.


    Tala turned to Drake then, her soft brown eyes bright with curiosity but absent of pressure. "I''m a Cleric, by the way. Healing and protection spells are my specialty. I''ll keep you alive, no need to worry, but if you could avoid getting hurt so I can focus on healing our tank, that would be great!" She giggled, but Drake had a feeling she was being serious, and telling him, in so many words, not to stand in the fire. Thankfully, he''d played enough MMOs to understand his role. She continued, bubbly as ever. "Need help figuring out your schedule? Class Seven can be overwhelming at first. I can show you the easiest paths between buildings."


    Drake chuckled, appreciating the rescue from the interrogation. "That might not be a bad idea. I''m still getting my bearings."


    Tala helped him after that, and he learned that Sethis, the lizard man, was also a tank class, though instead of a shield, he used a massive greatsword, and a small buckler. For a tank, he did quite a lot of damage, though his actual blocking skills were nowhere near Garret''s. Drake knew he''d prefer to be behind the hulking leonid. The members of their class who hadn''t joined them were Zara, the darker toned human who was apparently what people called a War Mage, the dark elf, Lyria, was a Sorceror, which was apparently just a War Mage that used summoned elemental minions to supplement her role as a damage dealer, and the crimson merman, Caelum, who was apparently a Sage like Rose, though instead of enhancement, his affinity for water magic made him a healer, and an off-damage dealer.


    By the time the meal ended, Drake had earned a mixture of begrudging respect and genuine curiosity from his new peers. The jabs, the assessments, the playful skepticism, it was all a means of weighing him, testing his presence, his confidence. But more importantly, it was inclusion. He wasn¡¯t just some outsider being observed from afar. He was already becoming part of the rhythm of Class Seven, tangled in their web of rivalries, friendships, and unspoken rules. That distinction made all the difference.


    As they stood to clear their trays, Rose lingered for a moment, glancing at Drake before finally speaking. "You didn¡¯t crack under their pressure. That¡¯s a good sign."


    Drake smirked at her. "Was that a test?"


    "Everything here is a test," She replied mysteriously, before turning to leave.


    Garret clapped a heavy hand on Drake¡¯s shoulder, nearly knocking him off balance. "You don¡¯t spook easy. That¡¯s rare in a striker."


    "Not much point in fighting if I¡¯m afraid to take a hit," Drake said with a shrug.


    Tala laughed, her long ears twitching with amusement. "I like this one. He might actually last a week."


    Vincent, adjusting his glasses, offered a small nod of approval. "We¡¯ll see if he lasts longer than that. The Academy is not forgiving."


    Drake chuckled, shaking his head as they exited the cafeteria together. Whatever this place had in store for him, he wasn¡¯t facing it alone. He had a solid group in the classmates who''d deigned to introduce themselves, and he''d be glad to have any one of them in his party. Indeed, they were all over level thirty, and he really hoped he didn''t bring them down because of that.


    Unlike conventional physical education, their next class was designed for practical survival in Dungeons. The massive training grounds in one of the campus''s main buildings were split into several magically controlled battlefields, each simulating different dungeon environments, rocky caverns, dense forests, crumbling ruins, etcetera. The instructors wasted no time in forming teams, pairing students randomly, but also based on their roless. Drake was assigned as a damage dealer once Instructor Aslan confirmed that no one knew what a Monk was, thus, as a close-quarters fighter responsible for dealing swift and decisive blows while evading counterattacks, he''d been relegated to DPS. His team consisted of Vincent, who took the role of tactician and battlefield controller, Garret, the unshakable tank who anchored their defenses, and Tala, the team''s cleric. Though her natural Lapine agility made her an excellent scout, her true strength lay in support magic. Her spells reinforced Garret¡¯s defenses, mended wounds mid-combat, and bolstered their endurance, ensuring they could last in extended engagements.


    The other team, consisting of Sethis, Rose, Leif, and Zara went before them, and performed quite well on a battlefield of ice against a elemental golem made of stone. Leif was less than useless with his daggers, so Zara had been forced to expend quite a lot of her magic power to compensate his lack of damage. Rose had also had to apply several damaging spells that drained health over time, and Sethis was able to close the gap with mighty strikes from his greatsword, as he kept the golem focused on him, and tanked its brutal hits with his weapon, and Rose''s potent healing magic.


    When it was their turn to face a summoned construct, they found themselves on a mountainous piece of terrain. The cliff sides rose high, making it into a small canyon, with limited space to move. As their construct burned to life in a tornado of flame, Drake swore. The one element he''d been hoping he wouldn''t have to face, on literally his first day. With more time, he could''ve at least tried experimenting with water, or earth. His teammates were Garret, Vincent, and Tala, and with that team composition, dealing damage was almost entirely on him. Without him, they wouldn''t bring down their target within the time limit, which was as good as failing.


    "What''s wrong, Drake?" Vincent asked, worried for his grade point average.


    "I did say I had three skills, yea? Well...the most damaging one changes my attacks into fire damage...and I don''t think punches will do much against that!" The burning cyclone roared, not waiting for the party, and Garret stepped forward, shield at the ready. The flames parted around his massive frame, and the other three hid behind him.


    "Well...figure something out!" Vincent shouted, as he and Tala split once the flames stopped, forcing the construct to divide its attention. "You''re our damage dealer! Deal damage!"


    Garret looked back at him from behind his shield, and grinned confidently, making an impressive form in his basic plate armor. "I¡¯ll draw its attention! You find a way to hit it where it hurts. We''re counting on you, newbie!"


    The massive Leonid charged, planting his feet firmly before meeting the beast¡¯s burning claw strike head-on. A loud clang rang through the training grounds as Garret¡¯s enchanted armor absorbed the impact, his sheer bulk keeping the creature occupied. "Vincent!"


    Vincent, standing further back atop a small cliff now, eyes flicking between their positions, adjusted his glasses so they caught the light. "Tala, circle around and mark it with DoTs! Drake, do something!"


    Tala darted up another cliff behind the construct, her lapine agility allowing her to weave between the beast¡¯s wild swings. She began casting three spells in a row, each one landing like a weight upon the construct, weakening it, and slowing it down. "Damage over time is active!" She called out.


    Drake gritted his teeth. Fire wasn¡¯t going to work. His basic strikes wouldn¡¯t land with enough force to matter, and though he probably could have attempted a Flurry of Blows, he also knew that would be negligible at his level. The construct was at his teammate''s level, though it had, mercifully, been lowered so he could at least damage it enough for them to pass. He needed something else besides fire. His nerdy mind thought back to Laurelin''s lesson, and the stereotypes that had led him to new skills. Once again, Pok¨¦mon entered his mind. What beat fire? Water, obviously, but there was none around. All he had were rocks. Then, he remembered, rock and ground moves also beat fire types. Firefighters dumped not only water, but sand and dirt on, for example, forest fires empowered by ridiculously high winds, and a climate suffering from the massive pollution humanity was causing. Figuring if it had helped in California it would help here, Drake quickly sent his will into the rock and stone around them, desperately forcing them to react to his magical commands.


    And the earth responded.


    With a sharp exhale, he spun in a smooth spiral out to the side of Garret''s bulk, and drove his palm into the ground. Jagged stone erupted in an instant, like a proper Stone Edge, as it raced towards his target. The once solid terrain became his weapon, sharp rock formations jutting upward, knocking the beast off balance as he hammered it with a surprise strike to its ''jaw''. As it staggered, Drake moved, using his agility and the raised stones like stepping platforms to launch himself higher. Warping the final stone around his feet as he leaped heroically into the air, he twisted his body and came down with an explosive heel drop, striking the creature''s ''head'' and sending it to the ground. He shouted at his teammates. "NOW!"


    Vincent reacted, as he''d been charging up a powerful ice spell that wouldn''t immediately melt, all he''d needed was an opening. Garret stabbed his sword into the construct''s ''neck'' as it was stunned, the magical weapon keeping it pinned, as Vincent''s spell lanced forth in a line of frost. Tala healed Garret as he stepped back from the beast with smoldering fur, and Drake followed the ice with a downright brutal beatdown from his now rock-encased fists. Within thirty seconds, and after another Ray of Frost, the construct dissipated, and Drake fell onto his ass, panting hard. He wordlessly expressed his thanks to the stone, not sure if they could grok him, but glad that his gambit had worked out in the end. He felt Tala''s magic surge into him, and realized he''d also been pretty badly burned. He hadn''t even noticed. With as little damage as his earth enhanced fists had done, his entire focus had been punching the fire elemental as fast as possible, until it died.


    Silence followed before Garret let out a low, approving rumble. "Not bad, newbie. Most people wouldn¡¯t have figured out a new skill that quickly."


    Vincent adjusted his glasses again, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Still inefficient, but adaptable. It seems Monks have a proclivity towards elemental magic."


    Tala grinned, as she hopped down, and helped Drake up. "I¡¯d say that was a solid first run. Not bad, handsome." She winked at him, and he felt his face heat up in a manner that had nothing to do with almost burning to death.


    Drake let out a breath and centered himself, rolling his shoulders as the tension in his muscles slowly faded. His entire body ached from the intensity of the battle, but the rush of victory was worth the considerable effort that his earthbending had taken. His magical power was still fine though, barely even a sliver had been used, but despite that, it had still drained him physically, as if strength was also a factor. He wondered if earthbending would also improve his other skills, and resolved to try a workout with the various elements when he had time. That could be his solution to making sure all of his stats rose with every level.


    Aslan came over to them, as they walked off the field. "Very well done, Drake Long." He rumbled. "I threw fire at you on purpose. I was made aware of your skills...and wondered how you would react. And in the flames of combat, your strength has grown! As has your level, I see. Well done indeed. Now, clean yourselves up. We''ve still three more classes before the day is done." Class Seven groaned, but did as they were instructed. The other groups were not thrilled that the newbie had upstaged them with his performance having drawn Aslan''s eye, but not one of their groups had failed to take out their construct.


    The next class was Advanced Magic Control, which required absolute precision and teamwork, forcing students to wield arcane forces with discipline rather than raw power as they shaped their magic together, weaving it to form something fragile, like a vase, in his group''s case. Drake was paired with Rose and Tala for the class competency assessment, and thanks to the budding love triangle forming between them, which Drake took all class to even notice, not one of them performed very well. Rose¡¯s magic was elegant and refined, but she kept glancing at Tala and Drake, and losing her focus thanks to her rising anger.


    Tala, for her part, was too focused on helping the newbie instead of her own magic control, and Drake, despite his best efforts, was trying to suppress the powerful mix of male hormones that surged into his dumb ape brain every time Tala''s glorious breasts pressed into his back, or his side. After the tenth time, he knew it had to be on purpose. He appreciated that she found him attractive, but it was frustrating to lose his magical focus every time his instincts said, ''Look! Tits!'' He''d forgotten how incessant a teenage male mind could be.


    He hadn''t put much thought into le romance, as he was used to either being ignored by women, or being too obtuse to notice their subtle cues. Nothing about this was subtle though, and he found himself with a moral dilemma. Both Tala and Rose were going to become exceptionally gorgeous women, he had no doubt. The problem, was that he was mentally twice their age, and his stupid body, was not. It was very much eager to swipe its V-card. Drake was fairly sure that would be immoral, and yet every time he tried bringing it up to Tala, she barreled over his words with niceness, forcing him to focus on the lesson, y''know, at least until her giant tits pressed into him again, and shattered his focus. This in turn, had often made Rose lose focus, and shatter their forming vase. By the end of the class, Drake was properly sweating, not entirely from exertion, Rose had a red mark on her refined nose from where she kept pinching it, every time Drake''s concentration had faltered, and Tala seemed very pleased with herself.


    Their next class, Dungeon Tactics, delved into the recorded experiences of past explorers, dissecting the perils that lay in the depths of the unknown. Unlike the previous class, this one was far more theoretical, relying on maps, historical accounts, and strategic breakdowns of famous expeditions. Vincent thrived here, answering the instructor¡¯s questions with crisp, methodical explanations. When a scenario was presented, a hypothetical dungeon filled with shifting traps and monstrous guardians, Vincent sketched out three different plans in mere minutes.


    Drake, for his part, also excelled at this, using his raw intelligence stat to keep pace with Vincent, much to his irritation. This culminated in a final example of a truly absurd Dungeon layout, involving spring jumps, spike pits, floating ever-rotating flails that would knock people out of the air, and of course, not one, but three fucking lava pits. Drake had questioned the veracity of the layout, wondering aloud if Dungeons actually became this ridiculous, at which point he learned that the older the Dungeon Boss, the more clever they tended to be. While Vincent had tried to carefully strategize around each trap, Drake had asked Aslan what powered things like ever-rotating flails, and the answer, was always magic. Dispel Magic was indeed a thing, and quite a common spell across classes as it turned out, so Drake had his theoretical party, displayed by a magical approximation, Dispel most of their traps, claimed he could cool the lava either with water or by firebending the heat from it, and at that point they had still had enough spells at the end to theoretically face the boss and win. Vincent''s party, had not, as his overly complex plan had confused them, and their magical simulation of the Dungeon ended in repeated failures, while Drake managed the final win.


    Much to his relief, Tala had been partnered on Vincent''s team, and Rose seemed to have regained a little respect for him after he managed to out-strategize Vincent. The Enchanter was clearly upset with his loss, but Drake had walked over to him at the end of the class saying, "If our parties ever end up split in a Dungeon, I''ll feel better knowing at least one of us is with them. And if we''re in the same one, well...I weep for whatever Boss we encounter. It won''t know what hit it." The two had shaken hands, but Vincent still seemed resolved to beat him next time. Drake, and his unfairly boosted intelligence supplemented by decades of dungeon crawling in video and tabletop games on Earth, wished him luck.


    Obscene Beasts and How to Kill Them, by far Drake''s favorite class title, was exactly what it sounded like. The Instructor, Kang, was a battle-scarred bovinid man, a veteran with an eye patch and a love for dramatic storytelling. He took the class from Aslan as the leonid took a well-earned break, and guided the students through the horrifying abominations that Dagorath had spewed into the world, creature by creature, including their theorized origins, and the known extent of their abilities. The class was held underground, and the stone brick walls flickered with magical projections of towering monstrosities, their twisted forms shifting as the instructor described their habits, weaknesses, and worst-case scenarios. Drake recognized far too many of them, yet another reminder that Dimensional Echoes were at work, though thankfully his D&D knowledge often turned out to be wrong, as he got a name for a creature slightly wrong, or gave it an ability it wasn''t known to have. He proved competent, but Kang eyed him with a weird look whenever this happened, probably because Drake always sounded sure of himself, and wary from what had to be experience. He let out a sigh of relief when the Instructor continued the lesson without mentioning certain nightmare-inducing creatures, like Beholders, or a Tarrasque. Some creatures were better left on the tabletop.


    By the end of the day, Drake was assigned his dormitory. The fourth floor''s twentieth room. That made him chuckle, as he had always celebrated the Highest of Earth Holidays with gusto, and weed. He briefly wondered if Arcadia had hemp, but then remembered, his teenaged brain wasn''t ready for drugs, and they were probably against the Code of Conduct that he''d been issued, but hadn''t actually read. The hallways of the dormitory wing were lined with thick wooden doors, each marked with glowing runes to indicate their magical security enchantments.


    Pushing his door open, he stepped into a spacious room, far more lavish than he had anticipated. There were three large beds, each separated by wooden partitions to afford a modicum of privacy. A single enchanted lantern hung in the center, casting a warm glow. Bookshelves lined one side of the room, already filled with various tomes, likely courtesy of one of his roommates. A sturdy desk occupied the far corner, covered in carefully arranged notes, diagrams, and spell matrices. The air held the faint scent of parchment, ink, and unwashed teenage male.


    Drake¡¯s arrival did not go unnoticed. One of his roommates, Vincent, was already seated at the desk, meticulously reviewing a thick tome, his glasses reflecting the lantern¡¯s glow. He barely spared Drake a glance before returning to his studies, though his silence spoke volumes. He would not be defeated so easily again. The other, was the sharp-eyed merman with deep crimson hair and a handsome face, Caelum, who looked up from his own book, offering a polite nod. "Ah, Drake Long. We didn''t have a chance to meet today. I am Caelum Triton, a Sage who specializes in healing and offensive water magic. I expect we will be seeing much of each other in the coming months."


    Drake set his bag down on the empty bed, glancing between the two. "Good to meet you, Caelum. Hope you don¡¯t mind a bit of company."


    Caelum gave a faint smile. "As long as you do not mind the faint smell of the ocean and fish, we should be just fine."


    Vincent finally spoke, not looking up from his book. "Try to keep the noise level reasonable. Unlike some, I intend to spend my nights refining my strategies, not causing disruptions."


    Drake smirked. "Duly noted."


    As the night stretched on, Drake sat on his bed, status screen hovering before him. The events of the day replayed in his mind; the battles, the lessons, the romance, the tests of wit and willpower. He had expected this world to challenge him, but not in the ways it already had. More than the combat, the camaraderie, and the lessons, it was the simple fact that he had carved out a place for himself here, however tenuous. He wasn¡¯t just an anime enjoyer watching events unfold. He was in it now, truly part of some great story that had yet to even properly start.


    He checked his status one final time, smirked at the visible progress he''d made, and then quickly fell into a deep sleep, thoroughly exhausted from the day.


    His dreams were not to be undisturbed however, as his unconscious mind was enveloped in a golden glow. "So, my Hero, how was the first day of the rest of your new life?"


    Drake groaned tiredly. "It...it was a lot. But I leveled up into double digits, at least. I won''t be as much of a burden on my party, now. Although...I did umm...I did face a problem I could use your Divine guidance with."


    Laurelin smirked at him, knowingly. "The flirting?"


    "The flirting!" Drake said, exasperated, mumbling it loudly in his sleep. Caelum and Vincent shared a look, sighed, and tried to go back to bed. Drake continued in his head, oblivious to his roommates, "I didn''t even think about it, but I mean, I''m technically twice the age of everyone in my class. The only reason I could keep up with Vincent, whose also my fucking roommate apparently, is because of my life experience, and that same experience is...making me hesitant about forming any uhh...romantic relationships."


    Laurelin broke into laughter. For a solid two minutes. It just kept going every time she saw his expression.


    Finally, he said, "I''m glad my awkward pain is so amusing to you, Goddess..."


    She gave him a kind smile. "Drake Long, for that is who you are, now, you are a sixteen year old male. These relationships are important, and they''ll last you the rest of your life. Spurning romance now will only cause problems later, when you decide you do want to woo one of them."


    "But...but it''s so...Wrong!" Drake countered.


    Laurelin fixed him with a stare, then. "I''m going to be blunt, Drake, and I need you to hear me. Your past life''s romantic exploits were...objectively sad." Drake winced, but Laurelin kept going, and did not hold back. If she was going to watch his exploits, she wanted some romantic spice, and though she''d never admit it, she was one hundred percent the reason Rose Valcrest had ended up in his eventual class. Drake hadn''t remembered the reference that was his name yet, but she certainly had, to her amusement. She hadn''t expected Tala, though. Laurelin knew, if she wanted her dose of drama, she had to break down this admittedly fair hangup her Hero had, and make him understand the objective truth, harsh though it was.


    "Your first relationship was ended by parental interference, and a relocation. The next three were all long distance, over the Internet, and didn''t really count. Your most serious one ended abruptly when it also became long distance, and she eventually left you for someone closer, and the final one barely counted as a relationship because you had, by your definition, ''checked out'' already and determined your Earth had enough people living on it. The epitome of casual, that one."


    "I get it, I was awkward and incompetent at love." Drake muttered. He wasn''t used to Laurelin being so blunt. He''d also thought he was over his romantic incompetence, but her words had cut him deep.


    "My point is, Drake, your past life''s choices did not a Lothario make. Your actual experience, is about the same as an average teenager, but you have the added benefit of understanding what not to do, what goes where, and what to stimulate to get results. You have the means, motive, and opportunity to have a proper teenage romance, so take my advice: do not hold back. Trust your heart, and you won''t regret it. You are once again a teenager, and should not feel guilty for experiencing perfectly normal teenage desires."


    Drake pondered for a long time, going silent. She was, technically right. By every metric, he was now sixteen, and though he had lived more years than his peers, they had not been spent on romance. He knew the mechanics of course, enough to achieve the basic goal of a sexual encounter, but his only actual epic romance had become long distance, and never overcame that distance again. It had also effectively broken his heart, and his hope of finding a ''soul mate''. "I''m...I''m just gonna see what happens, I guess." He said with a sigh. He wondered if he still wasn''t over the aforementioned romance.


    Laurelin nodded, smiling knowingly, and with a suppressed chuckle said, "Very well, Drake. I will let you rest. Just be aware; polygamous marriages are quite common on Arcadia! Byeeee!"


    And with that, she was gone. Drake mentally narrowed his eyes, wondering at the Goddess''s motivations, before tiredly letting them go. It didn''t matter what she wanted, or what the common romantic entanglements on Arcadia were like; in no reality would he ever willingly create a harem.

 My First Guild Quest Was To Punch A Thunderstorm, So I Did

    The Galdurian Arc Warden Academy, Boy¡¯s Dormitory - Primus City


    The first thing Drake noticed about his new world upon awakening, was how technologically advanced it was. It wasn¡¯t even electricity based technology, either. It was magic tech. The most important invention being, of course, the shower, with an honorable second place mention to the Magitoilet. There were no sewers on Arcadia, all the waste was just teleported, apparently, to a fiery volcano dungeon whose inhabitants, apparently, liked it. So much so, that said Dungeon hadn¡¯t spewed forth monsters in centuries to attack the civilized world, and in return, adventurers didn¡¯t raid the place. It was as close to peace as the minions of Dagorath had gotten, with the other races.


    Vincent had been up at the ass crack of dawn, studying, and Caelum could apparently wash himself off with his magic as he pleased, so Drake had plenty of time to enjoy a steamy spray of perfectly controlled water. It was infinite water, too, so there was no inherent guilt about washing himself in enough clean water to support entire villages, for weeks, on remote or poor parts of the Earth.


    This morning, Drake was using his shower thoughts to make a decision: buxom, bouncing, bunny girl, or gorgeous elf Sage? Both blonde, both beautiful, and both healers of significant skill. He knew he had to pick one to pursue, and not lead on, when ideally, he¡¯d get to know them both before deciding. Whoever he showed a preference for was sure to make the other hurt right in the feels though, and despite knowing rejection would hurt regardless, neither young woman deserved to be led on or lied to.


    Then, there was also the elephantine skeleton in his closet to consider. He knew how trying to hide one¡¯s isekai status went, and he knew it would get out eventually. All anyone had to do was read his Status to see he was a special boi. How each of them would react to that knowledge, for he intended to share all of it (which was the only way this situation stopped creeping him out because of the age gap) was also something to consider. That conversation would happen soon as well, as he didn¡¯t want either of them falling for his pretty facade and then being disgusted when they learned he was technically twice their age.


    Finally, he made his choice. Despite the appeal of Tala¡¯s bouncy bunny booty that his instinct driven eyes had noticed the day before, there was just something about Rose that hit different. She had a Zelda vibe to her but the attraction went beyond mere physicality. ¡°Well Drake Long, looks like it¡¯s Rose for¡­you¡­wait a fucking minute¡­¡± He muttered, as his cognitive wheels finally turned, and his Earth memories finally made the connection.


    It was at that point that Laurelin¡¯s mysterious ¡®reference¡¯ with his name clicked into place for Drake. He¡¯d asked her why he hadn¡¯t chosen his own name, and she said that once he understood her reference, he¡¯d probably laugh, and roll with it, knowing him. He was, indeed, physically laughing, as he realized he was now the American Dragon¡­Monk. Drake Long. Classic.


    He heard Laurelin¡¯s laughter in his head, then. ¡°It¡¯s about time, Hero¡­given how much that show influenced your last life, I was sure you¡¯d remember sooner¡­and to further encourage you to embrace your new status, Drake Long, if you can spell your name to have the same flow as the theme song, I¡¯ll grant you a Boon.¡± Drake, of course, knew what she was referencing. Jake Long, the ¡®Amdrag¡¯ himself better known to some nerds as the voice of Fire Prince Zuko, had an admittedly catchy flow in his Disney show¡¯s intro theme song. Before the second season had ruined it. He probably hadn¡¯t made the connection since he¡¯d been younger than he was currently when he¡¯d watched the Disney channel for the last time. But that catchy flow still echoed in his thoughts.


    ¡°From the D to the R to the A to the K to the¡­no, that doesn¡¯t flow at all.¡± He muttered.


    He heard the Goddess giggle again, and before she faded away, he asked her a question that had been bugging him since yesterday. ¡°Goddess¡­am I the only Monk in the world?¡±


    Laurelin answered, her good mood conducive to exposition. ¡°You are the first. There was one other who multiclassed into it later in their life, but they never acquired skills from it, beyond using meditation to focus their mind. Your peers don¡¯t know what you are, because no one has ever properly started or multiclassed to Monk early enough to learn its martial arts. The weapon arts and spellcasting are much more common, not to mention, easier to master.¡±


    ¡°Yea¡­that makes sense. I¡¯ll work on having my name match the flow of the show. Stay tuned.¡± She giggled again, wishing him luck, but he was motivated now. She¡¯d dangled the perfect reward in front of him. It was literally too good to ignore, though he couldn¡¯t fathom why Laurelin was offering something that big for something so objectively small, that nobody on this planet would understand as a reference. Maybe she just wanted a laugh, or maybe there was a particular Bard she was grooming to one day literally sing his praises. At this point, that wouldn¡¯t surprise him.


    The mornings of his days were, according to Instructor Aslan, to be spent working for the Adventurer¡¯s Guild, to build rapport with their staff, and get their names somewhat known amongst those they could very well one day end up leading on a Dungeon Raid. Everyone else in class had groaned at Aslan¡¯s mandate, though, which led Drake to believe there was a catch. As he arrived in the Primus Adventurer¡¯s Guild, he suddenly understood the catch.


    He was still in his uniform, since he lacked any kind of armor, not that Monk armor even existed anyway. Any regular clothing he wore would probably be about as equally protective as ¡®Monk armor¡¯, the way he saw it. As he saw his classmates though, he realized he was very much alone in his assumption. Vincent was on his case immediately. ¡°Imbecile!¡± He hissed. ¡°You can¡¯t wear the Academy¡¯s uniform here! Not only will it get ruined beyond use almost immediately, you just painted a giant blue and gold target on us!¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯ get pissy with him, glasses.¡± Came an obnoxious, rough voice. They turned to behold three heavily armored and armed veteran adventurers, sporting steel plates stamped with the Adventurer¡¯s Guild¡¯s seal on their armor as a sign of their skill level. ¡°Tha entire place had you newbies pegged as Arc Warden babbies tha moment you waddled in ¡®ere.¡±


    Drake stared at the human scum with a bored, blank expression. ¡°And? So what if we¡¯re from the Academy? That means every single one of us has more magical potential in our pinky than your entire genetic lineage.¡±


    The two geniuses beside their truly foul smelling leader made ¡®ohoo¡¯ noises, and Drake noted his classmates facepalming. ¡°Big talk frum a kid tha¡¯ showed up in his Academy jammies.¡±


    Drake narrowed his eyes. ¡°This is a uniform, Trash Heap. One representing the colors of the God of Magic. You¡¯d do well to remember that.¡± The leader looked back at his comrades with a knowing smirk, but if this was a trap, Drake was going to spring it. He was confident he could take any of the losers before him one on one. His level might have been low, but he had the Kung Fu knowledge of a Master in his brain, and a body capable of using it. He was also absurdly durable, which meant his punches hit harder than they should have. ¡°I can change into my bedclothes, if you prefer. I¡¯ll kick your mongrel ass in whatever outfit you want, it makes no difference to a class that uses Light Armor.¡±


    Vincent grabbed his shoulder. ¡°Drake, we¡¯re not allowed to start brawls-¡±


    The sad excuse for an adventurer mocked Vincent¡¯s tone. ¡°Waaaaah! Wuwr nowt awowed to stawt bwawls! Hahahahaha!¡±


    Drake''s eyes narrowed, and he found his voice deepening towards what it had been in his old life, as he said, ¡°I¡¯m not going to brawl here, in the Guild of Primus. But if this Human garbage wants a Duel to settle this nonsense, I will happily show him Exactly where he ranks, compared to an Academy First Year.¡± Drake smirked then, and dropped the bait. ¡°The lowest level First Year in my entire class, I might add. Surely a big stwong steewl cwass Adventuwer can take a level ten, no?¡± He taunted, mimicking the man¡¯s tone.


    By this point, the entire tavern floor of the guild was watching with bemused expressions, and as Drake planned, the crowd made an ¡®oooooooh¡¯ as he laid down the gauntlet. The scum didn¡¯t have enough brain cells to wonder why a level ten first year student would do something like this. Anyone with a brain, might have known the Academy did not enroll idiots, and been more cautious, but it seemed the disease of stupidity was as rampant on Arcadia, as it was on Earth. And once again, to his dismay, prevalent among humans. Dimensional Echoes at work, no doubt. ¡°Yer on, whelp.¡± The man snarled, thrusting forward a hand. ¡°I agree to tha duel. Name tha terms.¡±


    As Drake took his hand, he suddenly knew, without knowing how he knew, that the man was exactly level fifty. High, for a steel rank adventurer, and likely at what Aslan had called the ¡®Blood Limit¡¯. Apparently, those without Arc Warden levels of potential had a limit to the amount of levels they could gain, and eventually stopped. According to his research though, a level fifty should¡¯ve been able to advance to the next class of adventurer. Either way, he was practically drooling at the chance for that much experience. A level twenty five construct had boosted him from three to ten. A level fifty seasoned warrior, stupid though he may have been, might just boost him further, especially with his experience gain.


    ¡°One on one. No weapons, no potions, no healing. I came here to quest today, and I don¡¯t have time to punch through your potions. Not that you should need them against a level ten.¡± Drake said, smirking, and gripping the man¡¯s hand tighter.


    The steel adventurer was all in, unfortunately for him. ¡°I accept. An¡¯ I don¡¯t want no repercushions from tha Academy when I beat one of their little babbies bloody.¡±


    Drake grinned malevolently, as his grip tightened on the man¡¯s hand even further. The adventurer tried to pull it back, but Drake did not relent as he all but snarled. ¡°Oh I promise¡­the Academy will hear nothing of this from me.¡± With that, their hands glowed with magic, as the symbol of a flag bearing a pair of crossed swords hovered over their fists.


    ¡°The duel is agreed upon¡­and in the interest of safety, the Guild will be holding it on the roof.¡± One of the elven counter attendants said, giving Drake a sympathetic look. Forty levels was an insurmountable wall, as he would soon learn. ¡°Those who wish to watch, should ascend now. This way, gentlemen¡­¡±


    Drake finally let the man¡¯s hand go, and he sneered at Drake, following the woman. Drake went after them, but stopped as he felt a light hand on his shoulder. He turned, and felt his breath vanish, as Rose¡¯s absurdly pretty eyes locked on his. ¡°You should forfeit, Drake¡­these Adventurers love situations like this¡­and if you lose, our class will look weak. Also¡­I-¡±


    She was cut off by Tala, who sensed a moment happening, and got in front of it, literally pushing Rose out of the way as she took one of Drake¡¯s hands. ¡°I can¡¯t bear to watch you be hurt!¡± She said with her big golden bunny eyes wide and pleading, ¡°The rules say nothing about a Buff. Fortitude!¡± She intoned, and Drake blinked, as the divine magic surged into him, significantly raising his health, and strength. For a time.


    ¡°Cat¡¯s Grace!¡± Came Rose¡¯s voice, as she Enhanced his Ability for good measure, boosting dexterity, if he recalled rightly. She gave him a small, shy smile. ¡°Don¡¯t die up there, alright? You¡¯re definitely going to get in trouble for losing, though¡­the Headmaster doesn¡¯t like bad press.¡±


    ¡°Ladies.¡± He said calmly, evenly, his mind already calmed and focused, for battle, ¡°Have a little faith that I¡¯ll win. I managed just fine against the Fire Elemental. Compared to that, this trash is nothing.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s a seasoned level fifty Steel Ranked Adventurer.¡± Vincent snarled, gripping his staff so hard it would¡¯ve broken had it not been magical. ¡°He¡¯s going to wipe the floor with you. Absolute. Imbecile.¡±


    ¡°Glad to have your support, roomie.¡± Drake said, smirking at the Enchanter, who looked ready to snap. He leveled his staff at Drake and snarled, ¡°Enhance Strength! Enhance Movement! Chant of fucking Fortitude!¡± Three more buffs landed on Drake¡¯s person, as he blinked in surprise.


    ¡°If you¡¯re going to talk so big¡­you had better fucking win!¡± Vincent snarled, making his own way up the stairs the spectators were using, alongside the rest of the class. That left Drake with Tala and Rose, neither of whom was willing to depart first.


    He smiled at both of them. ¡°Thank you, both, for the Buffs. But seriously. Believe in the me that¡¯s going to crush that asshole. The prayers of two beautiful healers is all I need, for victory. Watch.¡± He nodded and smiled at Tala, winked at Rose, and then turned to walk confidently up the stairs. As he went, he stretched his arms, stopping at each square landing to stretch his legs. He could feel the magic empowering him, and as he made it to the top of the building, or rather, a high balcony that had been converted into a fighting field for practicing adventurers, he heard the man¡¯s obnoxious laughter.


    ¡°Aww look! Little Academy babby got himself some Tier One Buffs! Bahahaha!¡± He popped a potion and went to chug it, when suddenly, it was snatched from his hands. Indignantly, he blinked at the Guild Clerk holding his potion.


    ¡°The rules were clear, Mr. Kedran. No potions. Magic, like Buffs, is allowed.¡±


    The foul smelling excuse for an adventurer, Kedran, apparently, scoffed. ¡°I don¡¯ need no fucking Buffs to crush this runt. Come on already, fresh meat! I¡¯m starvin¡¯ over here! I¡¯m hungry like a woooolf!¡± He howled, and his compatriots chuckled. Drake took in the crowd as well, and frowned.


    The clerk was equidistant between them, on Drake¡¯s side of the field, were his classmates. Garret gave him an encouraging thumbs up and a confident nod, while Sethis and the rest seemed assured of his imminent loss. Vincent was still fuming, but watching closely. Rosa and Tala were holding hands, united, briefly, in their worry for their hot classmate. Drake didn¡¯t notice, but their resident dark elf, Lyria, was also watching him closely. His performance with the elemental yesterday, namely the way that he moved¡­intrigued her. It also helped that he was pleasant to look at.


    Drake fell into his Dragon Stance, and smirked at Kedran. ¡°A wolf¡­is no match for a Dragon¡­¡±


    ¡°Begin!¡± The clerk shouted, stepping back.


    Kedran waltzed forward two steps, and then blinked. Drake was gone. ¡°Wot the fu-¡± An almighty crack echoed across the balcony, as Drake channeled his buffed speed and his Street Fighter knowledge into a beautiful Shoryuken to the jaw. He was by no means done, though. He could feel his magical power surging through him, and it was showing him details of his opponent that hadn¡¯t been there seconds ago. He spun gracefully as he rapidly landed and adjusted from the uppercut, straight into a high roundhouse kick to Kedran¡¯s midsection. Empowered by magic, Drake¡¯s eyes widened as his durable, hardened foot sent the man hurtling into the white brick wall of the Guild with a resounding boom.


    Drake rose from his stance, awkwardly, and looked at the clerk. She was an elven woman with her chestnut brown hair drawn back in a ponytail. ¡°He still has health¡­should I leave him, or¡­?¡±


    ¡°The duel will end when one participant runs out of Health Points.¡± She informed him calmly. Drake nodded, and took his stance again, as Kedran got up, swearing like a sea captain.


    ¡°Smarmy¡­fucking¡­juiced up, inbred, cousin fuckin¡¯, CUNT! I¡¯LL KILL YO-¡± He launched a basic Flare at the first year, but Drake was a blur again, gone from where he¡¯d been standing. Another boom filled the air as Kedran smashed into the brick wall a second time, from a speeding gut punch from Drake¡¯s hardened fist. Then, he just started pummeling the man. Eight heavy strikes to his face, followed by Drake going full Rocky Balboa training on cold meat montage on his midsection, and then a graceful sweep of the legs and a falling People¡¯s Elbow to the gut ended Kedran¡¯s remaining health, by his estimation.


    The clerk was there, ready to stop him, but Drake was nowhere near blinded with rage. If anything, he was as calm as a still lake. He gestured to the adventurer, and the clerk checked his pulse and status, nodding. ¡°Adventurer Kedran, Steel Rank, is unable to continue! The winner is¡­umm¡­¡± She paused awkwardly, gesturing to Drake, who wiped his brow, and addressed the crowd.


    He walked before them, and projected his voice. ¡°My name, is Drake Long. I¡¯m the world¡¯s first Monk!¡± The crowd murmured, having never heard that word. ¡°For those who don¡¯t know, Monks essentially ¡®punch things until they die.¡¯¡± He said with actual air quotes. ¡°We¡¯re also pretty fast, but not very well armored. I look forward to working with all of you!¡± Fist to palm, he bowed low, and rose once the slow confusion and disbelief shifted to highly entertained disbelief and raucous insults at Kedran¡¯s incompetence.


    ¡°This kid¡¯s a whole new class? The fuck?¡±


    ¡°Wow! I knew that guy sucked, but beaten by a level ten!?¡±


    ¡°Monks are legit, man¡­¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s going to get demoted a rank for sure.¡±


    ¡°Nah mate, I think the kid is just that good. He¡¯s on an Arc Warden¡¯s level, remember?¡±


    ¡°Nah, you¡¯re right¡­those kids are just on another level¡­seeing it in action though¡­damn.¡±


    Similar murmurings followed the crowd as they descended, and left Drake chuckling. He flexed his fists, testing them. Normally, in his old body, punching someone¡¯s face bones and rib bones would¡¯ve hurt. Now, they barely tingled. ¡°Durability¡­¡± He muttered, grinning. ¡°Worth it.¡±


    Then, he felt a familiar press into his back as toned feminine arms wrapped around him from behind. Yet, he did not buckle under Tala¡¯s weight. ¡°You did it! Holy shit! I don¡¯t even¡­how!?¡± She shrieked in his ear. Gently, Drake unclipped her arms, and turned to the stunned faces of his class, and the clerk.


    ¡°That¡­was cool.¡± Garret rumbled in approval, as Sethis, despite his skepticism, nodded in agreement.


    ¡°And hot.¡± Tala giggled. Drake felt his face heat up, suddenly.


    ¡°Like a frozen Sun¡­¡± Nyara muttered, disbelief plain on her feline features.


    ¡°I too would like to know how you accomplished this, Mr. Long.¡± The clerk stated, amazed how one so young could move so fast. ¡°The disparity in level¡­this result should¡¯ve been impossible¡­or at least harder to achieve¡­¡± Quietly, she wondered if she was looking at the start of a Chosen One¡¯s rise.


    They were exceedingly rare, mortals favored directly by Laurelin and Galdurath, but every few centuries, one would appear. Usually right before a Demon Lord. She suppressed a shudder of fear. Their world had gone centuries now without a new Demon Lord appearing¡­which meant the next one would be seriously bad news, if the past was prologue.


    Drake chuckled, nonchalantly shrugging as he¡¯d already stopped sweating. ¡°Look people, I¡¯m not braggin¡¯...I¡¯m just an American Dragon¡­Style Monk..¡± He tried not to burst into laughter, but he did have a wide smirk on his face.


    ¡°Amer¡­ican?¡± Vincent said, puzzled, irritated, but smiling despite himself. Their new classmate was certainly something.


    In the back of his head, Drake heard Laurelin giggling hysterically.


    The clerk ahemmed, before the blonde bun could make further advances. ¡°You¡¯ll need to come with me, Mr. Long. The Guild Master is¡­going to want to hear about this. Having a level fifty veteran so soundly beaten is going to be a big hit to our competence.¡±


    ¡°Or, the start of a meteoric rise from another Academy student.¡± Drake offered. ¡°Surely the G.A.W.A. is renowned enough for this to not be that surprising, right? We do also have to get started on our Quests, guys.¡± He made his voice deep, like Aslan¡¯s then, ¡°Time waits for no one¡­¡± That, made smirks break out across his still shocked classmates. Every single one of them knew for sure now, their new rapidly leveling classmate was in no way weak.


    It was at that point, that Rose spoke up. ¡°I¡¯ll be your party¡¯s healer, Drake¡­if you¡¯ll have me.¡± She gave him a small but hopeful smile.


    The victorious Hero smiled genuinely back at her. ¡°Gladly, Rose¡­so now all we need is a tank¡­¡± Garret thumped his basic iron breastplate, and gave the pair a nod, ¡°And another damage dealer¡­¡± He cast his eyes towards the rest of the class.


    At that point, a voice Drake didn¡¯t recognize, because it rarely spoke up, filled the air. ¡°I will aid your party, Drake Long. Your skills are¡­impressive¡­if confusing. I wish to see more.¡± The owner of said voice turned out to be their resident dark elf, Lyria.


    Drake inclined his head towards her. ¡°Glad to have a powerful Sorceress along. And with that, I think we¡¯ve achieved a balance of beauty, and brawn, eh Garret?¡± He elbowed the giant lion man, who chuckled awkwardly, glanced at Lyria, and then looked away quickly. The dark elf smirked at him.


    As the rest of the class split up and set off, Drake, Rose, Garret, and Lyria followed the Guild¡¯s clerk up another flight of stairs to what Drake recognized as an elevator. Naturally, like all the other tech he was noticing today, powered by magic. As they made it to the top floor and entered the Guild Master¡¯s office, Drake noted it was considerably less magical. A magnificent, massive red-orange greatsword with a pair of S shaped twin blades comprising its length sat on the wall, covered in visible dust. The master himself was standing before a window, hands behind his back, as he looked out over Primus.


    ¡°Sir, I¡¯ve brought the Academy student involved in the duel below.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Kelista. That will be all, for now.¡± The massive golden armored form rumbled. The clerk gave them all a look, and then hurried off. ¡°I saw your class¡¯s handiwork down there. But even without Buffs, that¡­Monk, was it? That Monk would¡¯ve torn through Kedran regardless.¡± The man turned then, and the party blinked, as they saw a scarred human visage, still handsome, despite the damage. Drake blinked, as his eyes and their seemingly new ability to evaluate people registered him as a High Human, like Drake was. Rose was considered a High Elf, and according to Laurelin, the ¡®high¡¯ versions of a species were simply those with exponentially strong magical potential in their blood. She¡¯d made Drake a High Human mostly as a joke though, one they had both found amusing. He was glad his patron Goddess had such a good sense of humor.


    ¡°Adventurers like Kedran are a stain on what we do.¡± The Guild Master stated flatly. He¡¯ll be demoted posthaste. I¡¯ve only been looking for an excuse, until now.¡± The Guild Master crossed his burly arms, then. ¡°You there. Dragon Monk. Step forward.¡±


    Drake did so, and as he did, he once again felt he was in the presence of one who could reduce him to atoms, if they wished to do so. ¡°I am Guild Master Solus, of the Primus Adventurer¡¯s Guild.¡± He needlessly said, ¡°This effectively makes me the head of the entire Guild all across Arcadia. You seem like a capable fighter, despite your low level. Bring up your Status for me, please.¡±


    Drake briefly hesitated, but as the man raised a scarred eyebrow, he did so. Quietly, Solus looked over the information. ¡°From level ten, to level twenty five. Most impressive, but how... Ahh. I see. Lord Galdurath and Goddess Laurelin¡¯s will becomes clear, as their latest ally appears now, in an age of peace that has not known a Demon Lord in generations.¡± Drake winced as he heard sharp inhales from behind him. Garret, as usual, was taking things in stride, but then, the leonid had known Drake was special since they¡¯d met. It was the girls who were shocked by learning their newest classmate was a Chosen of the Gods. ¡°Drake Long. I am giving you and your party a Quest worthy of your skills. Complete it, and I shall promote you to Mithril Ranked Adventurers on the spot, and give you a bonus in the form of compensation as well. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to protect a herd of migrating Alicorns currently flying over the Elven forest of Silmaril east of here.¡±


    Drake¡¯s eyes widened in shock, and he silently, immediately, reached out to the Goddess. Her answer was amused, but measured.


    ¡°Calm down, my Hero. There isn¡¯t an actual Silmaril there. It¡¯s simply a name the Elves of old chose for the land after learning my origin, a story that you don¡¯t have time for right now.¡±The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    Solus was still talking, and Drake blinked as he sensed Rose had now walked up beside him. ¡°¡­some kind of beast that the Guild hasn¡¯t identified yet. What we do know is that if it¡¯s hunting Alicorns, it¡¯s powerful, and has likely feasted on some before. This mission would be difficult for most Adamantine parties, but with your levels and skills as future Arc Wardens, it should be well within your skill sets. Take a moment, before you accept. Death is a very real possibility.¡±


    Drake huddled up with his allies a few feet from Solus¡¯s desk. ¡°I think our party is ideal.¡± Garret rumbled. ¡°I say we rise to this challenge.¡±


    ¡°I¡­really need the money.¡± Drake muttered. ¡°And I trust in our skills.¡±


    Rose, however, seemed worried. ¡°He said it was a flying monster. Can you handle aerial combat, Drake?¡±


    He nodded. ¡°If our Sorceress can boost me with Fly, it won¡¯t be an issue.¡±


    Lyria scoffed. ¡°I¡¯d need a Pegasus feather to learn a spell that strong. I¡¯m good, not that good. Pegasi are insanely rare. We didn¡¯t all come to the Academy riding in a carriage pulled by four of them. And yes, I did check for feathers once I heard about that.¡±


    Drake grinned at her. ¡°Would an Alicorn feather do? If our lovely Elf Sage can approach one and ask for such a gift, we can help protect their herd. Either way, Garret and I would probably spook them.¡±


    Rose peered at the handsome monk, her cheeks slightly more pink. ¡°More of your strange sometimes-accurate-sometimes-not beastlore?¡±


    Drake shrugged. ¡°From what little I know of Unicorns and Alicorns, they will apparently only tolerate female virgins. Not male ones. So it¡¯s up to you, ladies.¡±


    Rose¡¯s face went scarlet, and Lyria¡¯s darkened to a mix of black and purple. Garret awkwardly looked up and away from both women, wisely not touching that subject in any discernible way. ¡°You assume much Drake Long!¡± Lyria hissed at him.


    Drake blinked. ¡°Oh. My bad. Are you both not¡­?¡±


    ¡°Of course we are!¡± Rose whisper-shouted. ¡°It¡¯s still incredibly rude to assume though!¡±


    Behind them, Drake heard Solus failing not to chuckle. ¡°I¡¯m¡­sorry, ladies. Clearly you¡¯re more sensitive about this than I am. My apologies. The point still stands. One of you can approach the Alicorns, beg a feather, and then we¡¯ll be able to fly against whatever Monster is hunting them. And if that fails¡­I do have a trump card that can fly me around, but¡­I don¡¯t know if he¡¯s ready yet. Either way, I¡¯m very much down for this Quest.¡±


    Lyria looked at Rose, then shrugged. ¡°I like this plan. I say we go for it.¡±


    Rose sighed, composing herself. ¡°A-Alright. I don¡¯t want creatures like Alicorns being devoured by some Demonspawn. Let¡¯s save them.¡±


    ¡°Good!¡± Solus boomed, having heard every word the teens had spoken. They reminded him of his own days at the Academy, back when Galdurath had still taught there. ¡°Now that you¡¯ve accepted, I¡¯ll sweeten your reward, to further motivate you. If all the Alicorns safely make it to the northern continent, I¡¯ll double your monetary reward, throw in some second tier, class appropriate armor, and make you Adamantine rank. Obviously, if you hadn¡¯t figured it out, the Guild and our beloved Goddess Laurelin are very invested in making sure the Alicorns arrive intact. Their role in Arcadia¡¯s ecosystem is vital. Good luck.¡±


    As the party left the Guild¡¯s headquarters, they gathered around Lyria for Teleportation, which was within her skill set. They appeared in an elven city, and Drake got his first proper look at one. He was reminded of Night Elf cities, but this one was much brighter, and didn¡¯t have actual buildings. The homes and businesses had been built into carefully hollowed trees, probably through magic, and the trees didn¡¯t seem negatively affected by that. They¡¯d simply grown around whatever the elves built within them, as nature always did. Instead of resisting that though, the elves of Arcadia had embraced and utilized it to their advantage. Some of the trees seemed as tall as skyscrapers, marking them as ancient.


    Seeing his expression, Rose smirked up at him, as he had about a head of height on her. ¡°First time in an Elven city?¡± Drake nodded. ¡°Some day I¡¯ll have to show you Fangorn, our capital.¡± Her cheeks flushed slightly, as he shifted his eyes to hers. ¡°If you want to, of course¡­¡±


    ¡°I do.¡± He answered smoothly. ¡°Who better than a High Elf Sage to show me around? I think I¡¯d get lost without a guide, it just looks like a forest to me.¡±


    Lyria ahemmed loudly. ¡°If you two are done, we need to get moving, if we¡¯re going to find them before whatever is hunting them.¡±


    Nodding in agreement, Garret and Lyria led the way, while Rose quietly pointed out the buildings to Drake¡¯s eyes. Eventually he saw what gave away a home or business from a regular tree, but he let Rose go on explaining. He didn¡¯t mind hearing her voice.


    The journey was long, but primarily boring. They came across a violent pack of wolves, but made ridiculously short work of them as Garret drew their aggro, and the other three punched, burned, and smote them to death. Even Drake hadn¡¯t leveled up from them. To counter the sheer boredom of walking, Drake tried controlling the wind, and getting some airbending under his belt. It¡¯d be incredibly useful for the fight to come. Unfortunately, the wind didn¡¯t answer, but Rose was supportive every time he failed.


    When they came upon a small river, Drake had a chance for redemption. Thankfully, the water was more responsive, and he was able to impress his party members with a series of flashy moves straight out of The Last Airbender. They refilled their water canteens, part of the standard Adventurer Kit that came with the usual bedroll, spark stone, and travel rations. As well as, of course, rope.


    Figuring his party would be knowledgeable about the composition of their adventuring gear, Drake slyly made a show of examining the rope, and then said, ¡°So uhh, what do you guys think this is made of, exactly?¡±


    The three of them shared a look. Rose shrugged, Lyria was too puzzled to answer him as she just squinted at him, but Garret, bless his big beautiful furry face, said, ¡°Uhh¡­Hemp? It¡¯s called hempen rope, so¡­¡±


    ¡°Yes!¡± Drake whooped, and the others shared another look. No one commented, though. Sometimes Drake asked weird questions, almost like he somehow didn¡¯t know basic things about the world. Like what people made rope out of.


    For Drake, the logic was simple. If Hemp existed, then the fun version also existed. Probably. And even if it didn¡¯t, it could. He was still too young for that, but some day, he would once again celebrate the Highest of holidays, for Arcadia also had twelve months, though he hadn¡¯t memorized the names yet. Currently, it was the Earth equivalent of Fall, which meant the school year at the Academy was similar to the one in America, starting in Fall and likely ending for a break in early Summer. The seasons, oddly enough, did have the same names.


    He kept trying airbending as they walked, but had a continuous lack of success, until Lyria signaled that she¡¯d found the herd. ¡°Alright ladies,¡± Garret rumbled after Drake nudged him. ¡°You know what to do.¡±


    Drake gave them a thumbs up. ¡°Good luck!¡± The girls gave him an unamused look, confirming they still hadn¡¯t forgiven his faux pas.


    As Garret and Drake waited in silence, he continued futilely trying to match Jake Long¡¯s flow quietly, to himself. ¡°From the D to the R to the A, K, E¡­¡± His eyes widened. That¡­actually flowed correctly. ¡°I¡¯m the¡­Dragon Monk¡­daddy of the N.Y.C. Ya heard¡­?¡±


    He sat up suddenly, drawing Garret¡¯s attention, and practically shouted it in his head, properly, with the right speed, and he grinned as he felt Laurelin¡¯s amusement. ¡°I knew you¡¯d get there¡­good timing, too. Choose your Boon, Hero. Or, two Minor Boons instead of a major one.¡±


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s¡­that¡¯s gonna need a minute¡­what qualifies as a Minor Boon, Goddess?¡±


    ¡°Armor, weapons, a reasonable boost to your stats¡­it¡¯d be easier if you knew what you wanted, and I could tell you if it qualifies as minor, or not.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll let you know, Goddess. I appreciate your infinite patience.¡± She confirmed his words, and Drake sensed her humming his flow in her own mind, to her immense amusement.


    A minute later, Drake had his choices. ¡°So¡­wise and merciful Goddess¡­would learning another Language not native to Arcadia count as a Minor Boon? The one I have in mind would be from a place you probably know well.¡±


    She chuckled in his skull. ¡°I had a feeling you would eventually ask to wield the Dovah Zul. Hmmm. I¡¯ll allow it as a Minor Boon, with the caveat that you have to learn any Shouts. I will grant you one Shout to begin with, though, for I am a merciful Goddess.¡±


    Drake grinned wider. ¡°Merciful indeed, fair Laurelin. Well, if I¡¯m the American Dragon Monk¡­only one shout will do!¡± He heard her chuckle again, as he shouted, in his head, ¡°Dovah¡­Alok!¡± Roughly, of course, this translated as ¡®dragon rise¡¯ but in Drake Long¡¯s context, it was ¡®Dragon Up¡¯. Because of course it was.


    ¡°If you find yourself falling short of power in your fast-approaching battle, try your Shout. It will burn a considerable amount of magic, so be aware. Your second Minor Boon?¡±


    ¡°I need better armor than my school uniform.¡± Drake stated plainly, ¡°and since no such Monk armor currently exists¡­I was hoping for a robe. Maybe¡­something white, gold and green trim, with a Yin Yang symbol on the back. Silk, probably, but enchanted with¡­let¡¯s say tier two magic, with the potential for more. Crafting skills are something I really want to look into¡­y¡¯know, when I have a minute. As far as effects¡­turning my movement speed into a flight speed would be ideal to start with. That and the tier two defenses should be enough for a Minor Boon, and it will greatly aid me in keeping your Alicorns safe.¡±


    ¡°Your Boons are granted, Drake Long. Fight well. The beast that is coming is¡­a true horror.¡±


    As Drake grimaced, suddenly less confident if Goddess Laurelin was calling their opponent a true horror. Then, several things happened at once. Drake was illuminated by a flash of light, and Garret stared, mouth open, fangs visible, as a folded white garment trimmed with gold appeared in his arms. He held it up, letting it fall open before him, and noted a white, silken, breathable top and bottoms as well. Underclothes, for the robe to go over, not at all dissimilar from what monks wore on Earth. ¡°Yessss.¡± Drake hissed. ¡°Monk armor! I¡¯ll be right back, Garret!¡±


    The black maned leonid just stared, as his ally dashed into the bushes to change. ¡°What¡­the actual fuck¡­¡±


    Then, sensing something, the leonid looked towards the girls. The Alicorns were launching into the air in a panic, while Rose and Lyria were readying spells. With a snarl, he leapt from the bushes with a skill designed to help big, heavy bois like him get where they needed to in a timely manner, just as a sparking black claw wreathed in red and black lightning struck at Lyria. Garret''s shield pulsed with blue light first, then red, and the beast who owned the claw shifted its burning red eyes to him.


    It was a creature from a nightmare, not entirely unlike a leonid, or the Lions they¡¯d come from, but whatever this had once been, Dagorath¡¯s power had warped it into something else entirely. Two massive leathery demonic wings rose into the sky, and Garret noted they were coated in sharp, black armor, as were its forearms and elbows. Its mane was almost white, save for the bloody tint that darkened it, and the leonid knight grimaced, as he saw for himself the ever-lingering stain that Unicorn blood came with. It didn¡¯t seem fresh at least, so their bonus was still intact. Then, he saw its stats, and his eyes widened. Level seventy five. The three of them were just under forty. This was not something they could take. Not unless Drake had another ridiculous card up his sleeve, which, to be fair, he had hinted that he did have. Leveling up had apparently given him several intense new skills, including something that could, apparently, cause near instant death, or at the very least, significant damage that couldn¡¯t be resisted.


    Lyria attacked anyway, as a barrage of Fireballs launched from her crescent Moon tipped staff. What truly hurt it though, was the Smite that Rose landed on it, manifested as a slash of divine light. ¡°Anyone remember what the fuck a Raiju is!?¡± Garret shouted, but the girls both answered with a negative. ¡°Balls.¡± He rumbled. The name of the game now, was kiting it away from the Alicorns. Even if they fell and became its next meal, the mythical winged and horned creatures would be given a significant head start. ¡°I¡¯ll kite it!¡± He shouted, ¡°Rose! Hasten them!¡±


    Forcing the sparking claw away, Garret bravely charged the beast and forced it to step backwards as he sliced at its paws and face. It leapt back into the air, snarling as lightning began building around it. He had no doubt Drake was coming, his new friend was probably just waiting for an opening. ¡°Starting Debuffs!¡± Lyria called out, as she used her innate sorcerer powers to cast three spells at once. Then, once the relatively quick debuffs fell over the Raiju, she summoned a Lightning Elemental. ¡°Divert its attacks! Or we¡¯re dead!¡± She ordered. The being composed of pure plasma made a nodding motion where its eyes were, and shot into the air above the Raiju, waiting to strike.


    Garret, for his part, was going blow for blow with the massive beast, but Rose kept having to heal him, as each one lowered him by half his health points. The creature¡¯s claws and serrated metal covered wings were cutting through his plate like a hot knife through butter. ¡°Where the fuck is Drake!?¡± She shouted.


    ¡°He¡¯ll be here!¡± Garret roared. ¡°Keep your Magic replenished, and focus! We can do this!¡± Despite his words, Garret knew they were, at most, keeping the Raiju at bay so far. The damage they were dealing was negligible, and Lyria¡¯s spells seemed to be resisted. They had limited magic potions, too. This stalemate they¡¯d managed to force with their tactics so far could not last. Garret activated his damage mitigating buffs specific to his class as Rose chugged one potion, and his body surged with white energy as Lyria cast Enlarge on him. With a feral grin, the dark maned knight empowered by powerful defensive skills rose to the Raiju¡¯s eye level, and with a pair of roars that shook the forest, the two leonine figures clashed.


    For his part, Drake had been about to jump in, it had just taken a minute to attune to his new clothes. Once he did, he launched into the sky, and got some height. Reaching level twenty five had come with some new skills, though he hadn¡¯t had a chance to try them out yet. His Step of the Wind got him into place instantly, and he saw Rose and Lyria notice him first. From under his hood, he had a cocky smirk. Quivering Palm, a technique that might well save them here with the sheer amount of damage it did, needed an opening, which meant he needed to make one. Thankfully, he had something that could, probably, do that too, since it wasn¡¯t technically a magic based attack. They needed damage this thing wouldn¡¯t resist.


    That was where his new Ki Blast came in. That one, he had tried on the road, and though he hadn¡¯t told the others, he felt he could make them bigger. Much bigger. At the price of more magic power, of course. Despite not being a magical attack, using Ki still burned his magic energy pretty significantly.


    ¡°Dovah Alok!¡± His Shout cracked through the air, and as promised, seemed to function like the Kaio Ken from Dragonball Z, in that it greatly enhanced his attack power, briefly, for a heavy price on his body. Wasting no time, he lowered his hands by his sides, and created a new move as he summoned his Ki Blast, and forced it to grow. Purely for fun, he started shouting, ¡°Kaaaa¡­meeeeh¡­¡±


    He smirked, as he heard Laurelin in his head. ¡°Oh wow, you¡¯re actually trying it mid-combat!?¡±


    ¡°Haaaa¡­! Meeeeeeh!¡± The Raiju, sensing the growing source of Ki, turned its foul eyes to Drake, but Garret was there, smashing its muzzle with his giant shield, and forcing its focus on him as he continued brutally bashing its feline face. Lightning arced around the creature in a deadly display and shot towards Garret, but the Lightning Elemental tanked it. It could do that, at most, one more time. Drake didn¡¯t wait, they needed to damage this thing as fast as possible, before Rose ran out of magic. ¡°HAAAAAAAAAA!¡± Using his magic and his manipulation of his bodily Ki that had come with leveling up, Drake imposed his will on the empowered Ki Blast, making it take the iconic beam shape he desired.


    The area turned bright white from the light it gave off, as it shot down towards the Raiju, hammering it right between the wing joints, and slamming it into the ground. A significant portion of its health was removed, but the creature was nowhere near done yet. It still, unfortunately, had over half its health points, while Drake felt his considerable magic pool rapidly depleting. As soon as his Kamehameha Wave struck, Drake shot downward, readying his Quivering Palm, as Garret further pinned the creature by stabbing his sword through its right paw. Rose and Lyria hammered it with spells, and Drake felt a buff empower him, specifically his health again, as he landed on the creature, and disrupted its natural bodily Ki with his glowing red palm.


    Drake grinned, as he sensed the Raiju, considerable constitution though it had, fail to resist the technique (It rolled a 5). Drake kept brutally pounding its wing joint with his glowing crimson fists, as his Quivering Palm worked slightly different from the table top version. He needed to strike his target repeatedly to make the internal waves of force damaging its organs take effect. Empowered as he was by his Shout, this was not hard to do, and the party watched, in awe and disbelief, as his punches started making the Raiju¡¯s body rupture. It spat up foul black blood, thoroughly unable to rise as the sheer force of Drake¡¯s punches kept hammering it back to the ground, and continued to rupture its internal organs. ¡°Get back!¡± He shouted at Garret, and the knight swiftly turned, abandoning his sword, scooped up Lyria, and then leapt back towards Rose.


    Without the tank to draw aggro, the suffering beast turned its wrath on Drake. Another surge of lightning struck at him, and though Lyria¡¯s elemental tanked it, the attack still hit him. But Drake refused to so much as falter as he felt the foul energy burning him. ¡°Just die already you sparking asshole!¡± He shouted at it, his blows coming faster and faster, even as he felt his power waning. Sensing his strikes weakening, the Raiju countered, and countered hard. Drake¡¯s eyes bulged as the brutal backpaw sent him soaring into a sturdy tree trunk, and he hit it hard enough to cough up blood. That was bad, but his own stats said he wasn¡¯t done yet.


    ¡°DRAKE!¡± He heard Rose scream, and he grinned at the Raiju as it slowly stalked towards him, the vibrations from his punches still very much tearing up its insides. He felt a timely surge of healing fill him, and he was no longer at death¡¯s door, as his health points surged to full.


    Drake stood up straight, his hood now lowered after getting struck, and wiped some blood from his mouth. He raised the palm that had started the internal organ barrage, still glowing crimson from the effects of his shout. ¡°Nice try, fucker¡­but you¡¯re already dead.¡± At about just under half of its total health, he knew his Quivering Palm could end the Raiju now, with how many strikes had strengthened it. He clenched his open palm into a fist, and all at once, his internal Ki strikes ruptured the creature¡¯s heart. Its red eyes bulged, and its natural lightning radiated outward as it died, a final fiery fuck you to anyone in its vicinity, namely Drake. Drake raised a quick earth barrier, but the explosion still knocked him back into the tree again, thanks to how concussive force worked, and his vision went black.


    When he came to consciousness again, he was¡­oddly comfortable? Like he was on the world¡¯s softest pillow. Then, he grimaced, as he felt something wet hit his face. He tried raising an arm to wipe whatever it was away, and then groaned. Massive amounts of pain filled his body, and his eyes shot open. He didn¡¯t even have time to register he¡¯d been in Rose¡¯s lap, his head just mere inches from Paradise, as his body punished him for using the Shout. His ears were ringing, and he coughed up more blood, but then another surge of warmth and healing filled him, and he punched the ground, forcing himself to focus.


    Gradually, the pain lessened, but he had a lingering soreness all over. Finally, his ears started working again. ¡°...think he can hear us.¡± He heard Garret rumble. ¡°Drake¡­say something, my friend.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m¡­I¡¯m alright¡­¡± He managed with a raspy voice. ¡°That¡­that new Boon is a bitch¡­¡± He muttered, feeling markedly better, as he realized Rose was rubbing his back.


    Laurelin¡¯s concerned voice entered his mind again. ¡°That¡¯s because you didn¡¯t set a limit, you fool! You activated the Shout to its highest degree, and while that probably helped you defeat such a powerful foe, the backlash nearly killed you! If Rose hadn¡¯t recklessly spent so many Heals on you, that final blast would¡¯ve ended you.¡±


    ¡°My¡­bad¡­¡± He groaned, shifting to a sitting position. He finally looked at Rose, and it was guilt that hurt him this time. Her composed self was gone, nose runny, puffy red eyes, and yet there was relief there. Using the robe sleeve of his new armor, he gently wiped her face, and smirked at her as he subtly cleaned the sleeve on the grass around them. ¡°The Goddess just confirmed it for me¡­I¡¯d be dead right now without you, Rose Valcrest. My life is yours.¡± And having died once before, Drake knew his words were sincere, and accurate.


    Her face turned a deep crimson then. ¡°Wha- I don¡¯t- I just-¡±


    ¡°I do¡­need to rest a minute though¡­guys¡­check on the¡­things¡­¡± He fell back into the elf¡¯s lap, and was out again. This time though, there wasn¡¯t lingering pain. Just comfortable bliss. He was vaguely aware of his teammates talking, but he had to focus. Another feature he¡¯d gained with leveling up, was a kind of Healing Trance, and while he¡¯d need a solid four hours eventually, for now, he needed his muscles strong enough to help him walk. A few minutes would get him there.


    He sensed Garret and Lyria move rapidly away from them, belatedly realizing the sorceress probably knew Fly by now, and felt relief. They¡¯d check the Alicorn herd, make sure everything was good, and by the time they returned, he¡¯d probably be ready. He felt Rose stroking his head, and let a small smile form on his face. He could¡¯ve stayed like that for hours, but eventually, he sensed the others returning, and woke up.


    ¡°You¡¯re awake.¡± Rose said, her cheeks still flushed for some reason, despite there having been plenty of time for them to cool off.


    ¡°I am.¡± Drake replied, smiling at her. Her composure had returned, at least. ¡°Thank you, for tolerating that¡­it umm¡­helped speed up my Healing Trance. I¡¯m good enough to walk now, probably.¡± He said, slowly rising to his feet, unsteady for but a moment before he found his balance.


    ¡°The mighty Monk rises!¡± Garret roared, clearly enjoying being able to fly. He landed, and clapped Drake¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Your skills are seriously cool. What even was that energy beam?¡±


    ¡°I want to know, too.¡± Lyria stated. ¡°It didn¡¯t feel magical, and the Raiju didn¡¯t resist it.¡±


    ¡°I basically supercharged a Ki Blast, and after I mishandled my newest Boon, it uhh, got exponentially stronger, though you saw the blowback. I know how better to wield it now, though. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll be going that hard again¡­that hurt, man.¡±


    Garret smirked at him, a sly look on his leonine face. ¡°I¡¯m sure another healing session on Rose¡¯s lap pillow would fix you up just fine.¡± Lyria snickered.


    Drake coughed into his fist. ¡°The lap pillow is for emergencies only¡­probably.¡± He said, eyes closed, though he subtly peaked at Rose. Her face was red again. More seriously, he said, ¡°I was dying, guys. And I¡¯m pretty sure her Healing Aura helped my own healing skill work faster.¡±


    Lyria and Garret shared a look. ¡°Uh huh.¡± The sorceress said, smirking.


    Drake looked at Rose again, smiling genuinely. ¡°I meant what I said before, though. You saved me, Rose. Anything you ever need from me, just say the word.¡±


    Lyria sighed loudly, before Rose could answer. ¡°We get it, you¡¯re into each other. Anyway, the Alicorns were over halfway to the northern continent when we last saw them. None of them died, and it¡¯s just about noon. We need to get back, report in, get our rewards, and get back in time for homeroom.¡±


    ¡°Oh Gods¡­¡± Drake groaned, ¡°I forgot we still had classes¡­¡±


    ¡°We should check our Statuses too.¡± Rose finally said, managing words in her usual calm tone, though she seemed quite happy, judging by the small smile on her mouth. ¡°That monstrosity is sure to have leveled us up.¡±


    They stepped apart then, checking their stats individually, and as Drake saw his new level, a mind boggling fifty five, he heard three simultaneous gasps of ¡°Holy shit!¡± from behind him. Turning, he looked at his party. ¡°You guys alright?¡±


    Coming closer, Garret said, ¡°We hit fifty five! That¡¯s over the level fifty mark!¡±


    Drake raised a brow. ¡°Level fifty mark?¡±


    Rose chimed in, just looking impressed. ¡°Once someone hits level fifty, levels get a lot harder to gain. And what¡¯s more¡­by my math, all of my stats increased by one for each level I got. That¡¯s¡­hold on, why do I have Ally of the Gods too?¡±


    ¡°I noticed that as well.¡± Garret rumbled.


    ¡°Same.¡± Lyria said.


    They all looked towards Drake, who shrugged. ¡°I guess¡­it applies to my allies too? The allies of my Godly allies are my¡­allies?¡± That made them chuckle. ¡°I also reached fifty five. Looks like I finally caught up to you guys.¡± He grinned, though it was mostly at Rose. Her beauty was like a magnet for his eyes.


    ¡°Either way,¡± Lyria said, interrupting before they got lost in each other¡¯s gaze again, ¡°We¡¯re at the right level to be Adamantine Rank Adventurers. The rest of the class is going to lose their shit over this.¡±


    ¡°Right.¡± Rose said, still smiling. ¡°Let¡¯s get back. I don¡¯t want such a great outing spoiled with tardiness!¡±


    They stepped closer to Lyria then, and with a flash of magic, they were gone.


    Primus Adventurer¡¯s Guild - Primus City


    ¡°Wow¡­that burned a lot less magic than usual¡­¡± Lyria muttered, as they appeared with a bamf in the foyer of the Guild.


    ¡°Probably your new level.¡± Drake said, grinning. ¡°Praise the Gods, for they are generous.¡±


    All three of his party mates nodded in agreement. Rose seemed to literally thank Laurelin, quietly praying. They approached the Guild Clerk¡¯s counter, while Rose had a moment with her Deity, and the elf, Kelista if Drake recalled correctly, stared at them with an open mouth, looking between them, probably at their levels. ¡°You¡¯re all level fifty five!?¡±


    Once again, the entire lower floor went silent, as the gathered adventurers, some of whom had seen their shenanigans earlier in the day, stared at them, their own eyes confirming what Kelista shouted.


    Not one to miss an opportunity, Drake said, loudly, ¡°Guild Master Solus¡¯s Quest was pretty intense¡­Runic class, easily. We faced something called a¡­Raiju. Level seventy five, massive, armored, the kind of thing that feasts on Alicorn blood.¡± He paused for dramatic effect. ¡°But between our top tier Party tactics, and some Monk badassery on my part, we managed to kill that fucker! Garret! Give the lady our proof.¡±


    The massive leonid, whose armor was practically falling apart at this point, placed two massive black horns he¡¯d hewn from the dead beast on the Guild Clerk counter. Kelista cast Identify, and just stared in disbelief. ¡°You¡­you¡¯re not lying¡­this thing was an Epic tier Monstrosity, and you managed to kill it!? At level twenty five!?¡±


    Drake chuckled loudly and confidently. ¡°I laid down some high tier Monk moves on its ass! And now its ass is grass! Of course without my tank, our potent heals, and some timely debuffs and tanking from our Sorceress¡¯s elemental, we¡¯d all be crispy fried right now, but we did it.¡± He grinned at the elf. ¡°And now we¡¯d like our reward. Please. Every Alicorn survived.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll need to check with the Guild Master¡­¡± Kelista started.


    ¡°No need.¡± Came a thunderous baritone that echoed through the room. The scarred handsome visage poking out above the titanic gold plated form of Guild Master Solus stepped down the stairs, walked nonchalantly through the tavern portion of the floor, and up to the victorious party. ¡°Our branch in the north has confirmed the Alicorn herd arrived safely, if a bit spooked. Well done!¡± He thundered. ¡°From this moment on, you shall be Adamantine Ranked Adventurers, and have access to the Quests available at that level! I don¡¯t think a group of First Year students has ever gotten to that rank¡­ Furthermore¡­I believe I promised one class-appropriate Tier Two piece of armor for each of you¡­though¡­Garret, was it? I¡¯ll give you two. To replace that armor that¡¯s clearly beyond repairing. I can tell you fought hard, to keep the abomination in place.¡±


    There was unhappy grumbling from the modestly filled tavern, and from what Drake could tell, the regular adventurers were not thrilled that a bunch of Arc Warden newbs were now Adamantine rank, having jumped straight past bronze, iron, and even mithril.


    Solus looked over the party then, and though it was subtle, he could tell they¡¯d had quite the morning adventure. His eyes settled on Drake, then. ¡°I see you found some proper Monk attire out there¡­not bad at all. Good thing I got you a weapon instead of armor!¡±


    ¡°Oh, I don¡¯t really use-¡± Drake started, but then his eyes widened as Solus produced a pair of awesome, gleaming light blue metal gauntlets. ¡°Fist Weapons do actually have a niche in our society, and I think these will serve you well. The Fists of Far Reach enhance your attack power, your magical control, and can turn your punches into ranged attacks.¡± Drake thanked him, in awe as he slid the light blue metal gauntlets onto his hands. They shrank to fit his size. Large blue arcane gems surrounded by a circle of tiny engravings were on the back of each hand of the gauntlet¡¯s presumably powering their useful magic.


    ¡°For your dedicated High Elven Sage, a set of vestments, once worn by the first healers to learn from Goddess Laurelin herself. They will greatly increase your available magic power, and reduce the cost of all healing spells. Wear them with pride, for you are worthy of them after keeping your Party alive against such a powerful enemy.¡± Rose was similarly in awe, and scurried away to a changing room for adventurers to put them on immediately.


    To Garret, Solus said, ¡°Your armor will be sent to you on the morrow, but for now¡­I give you my old Shieldblade. I can attest to its powerful defensive magics. It should serve you well in Dungeons, until you loot something with better stats.¡± He moved on to Lyria then, who was clearly the most eager to try her new gear. ¡°And to the skilled Sorceress, without whom your party would have taken much longer to arrive and return from your Quest, I give the Stave of Stored Spells. It can hold any spell, of any level you can currently cast. The higher the spell¡¯s rank though, the less room it will have. May it save your party, when your magic is drained and your backs are against the wall.¡±


    With the items handed out, alongside their reward of eighty thousand Gil per party member, Solus departed, leaving the teens to marvel at their new stuff. Garret was still shocked he was wielding a blade that the Guild Master of Solus had once used, from the sound of it, on quite a few adventures, before taking up his current apparently iconic greatsword. So iconic, they¡¯d literally named it after its wielder.


    From Drake¡¯s perspective, the rest of the day was a blur. One second he was complimenting how gorgeous Rose looked in the rather revealing, for healing robes, white and gold clothing that now fit well with her similarly colored staff. It also had a hood on it. Being thoroughly drained, Drake managed to recount for his classmates what their morning had been like, much to their chagrin, and despite his best efforts, and how interesting Aslan¡¯s lessons were, he could barely pay attention.


    They did get their new arrival, though. A burly bear man by the name of Bjorn Bjornson, who demanded, not asked, that everyone just call him Ironside. He was a Berserker, and being a bearkin, that meant he was extremely durable, and hit things so hard it healed his own damage. Such Berserker tanks were rare, but renowned for how absurdly good their recovery skills were, to the point that, apparently, healers in their parties could just focus on damage and not even need to worry about their health points.


    As soon as classes were over, Drake tiredly returned to his dorm, and was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. He belatedly activated his Healing Trance, but rest was very much required. He hoped the rest of his days weren¡¯t this exhausting, or his school work would surely suffer.