The First Archmage

As time ticks down, I stretch after having eaten another meal. It won’t be too long before I’m kicked into the next area.

Since the first two areas were both mental challenges, the next area will probably be one as well. If it’s a battle, and I can’t handle it, I can always use the Warp Stone I got for completing the first Stage.

Warp Stone: Allows for instantaneous warping to the Dungeon’s entrance.

Time hits zero, and the surroundings fade into a passage sixty feet in width and twenty in height, not all that different from the room I was previously in. Torches line the wall, giving off a little bit of light, but not enough to fully see everything in here, leaving the center area – where I am – fairly dark.

Lining the walls are also ornate caskets, each slot for one well-illuminated by some unknown source. A chill runs down my spine. I’ve never been a fan of the dead, and the fact that this passage is a hundred feet across creeps me out. There are three caskets per section, each section is roughly ten feet long.

That’s sixty dead people.

Putting some energy into my steps, I move as quickly as I can to get to the exit opposite the ladder. Halfway across, the caskets starts to open up.

Nope. Nopenopenopenopenope!

Not doing undead!

I run as fast as I can, ignoring the message that pops up.

The exit turns red, and an armored undead steps out of it, then it fades back to just an exit.

Undead, Death Knight 10

“Magic Bolt!” I yell, firing off shot after shot.

A lot of it bounces off the thing’s armor, but a few manage to hit exposed bone. I’m not sure if they’re actually doing damage or not, but that doesn’t matter. As long as I make it past its ugly sword and creepy self, I’ll be good.

As I get closer, I aim better, hitting its head more times than not. It moves its shield to protect its face, and I switch to the exposed bone of the arm supporting that shield. I hit that a few times, and the bone cracks. The Death Knight moves its arm to protect it with the shield, giving me a slight opening to the face for a moment, and I peg it with four Magic Bolts in a row.

The Death Knight approaches me, and it swings its sword when it draws near. I duck under it, stepping around it and firing four more Magic Bolts at its back, causing it to stumble.

Before it can turn around and get me, I’m through the exit, tumbling to the ground. I lie there, gasping for breath.

That was fucking terrifying.

I fucking hate the fucking undead.

You have completed the Crypt of the Temple of Dar, Stage 2 for the first time!

+20 Human Experience!

+20 Class Experience!

You are the first to complete the Crypt of the Temple of Dar, Stage 2!

+20 Human Experience!

+20 Class Experience!

Another Wizard Level, and Scout only needs five more Experience. I’ve no idea if redoing a Stage will give more Experience or not, so I’m going to try to do whatever this is. If it’s more undead, I’m probably going to just nope out of here with the Warp Stone and try the first Stage again to see if I’ll get more Experience.

The creaking of bones catches my attention, and without even looking to see the source, I pull the Warp Stone out of my ring and activate it, appearing outside of the Dungeon.

Nope.

Not doing it.

Sitting outside of here, I allow my Mana to recover.

There is another Dungeon I can try, and it’s right here, too. That one was a nice, sunny grassland. No undead there, since they can’t survive in sunlight.

The thought that they could, of course, be crawling around under the grass, such as undead rabbits or snakes or something, does cross my mind.

Once I catch my breath here, I look at my outfit. Still the Earth attire I was wearing. I’m so glad I stuck all of my stuff into the ring before Christopher started training me.

Looking around, I determine no one’s around, so pull my clothes out and change. It feels so nice to be in my old clothes again, especially my boots. They’re soft, they’re comfortable, they make no almost no noise when I walk, and they’re resistant to penetration.

Looking at the Dungeon, once my Mana is filled, I decide to avoid it, even the secondary form. There was something in the distance, and if it was, like, a mountain or something, it could be teeming with undead.

Nope.

Not gonna risk it.

Buh-bye.

I start walking, making my way south. The team probably went that way, or ended up that way. I highly doubt Oberon’s hatred is just to Wizards – it could be to all Adventurers.

After nearly two weeks of travel without seeing another soul – leading me to believe the kobold was just coincidence – I exit the forest, coming across plains. Not far from where I exited is a small town, the perfect first place to enter.

I make my way to the front of the town, circling around its wall, then approach the gate. The two guards at the gate look at me, then say something in a language I can’t understand.

“I’m sorry,” I hold my hands up. “I don’t speak your language.”

The guards look at each other, unsure, then look back at me, one of them speaking again. I listen to their words.

Skill Gained!

Velusan Human Language 1/10: The human language of Velus

Not enough for me to fully understand them. I can understand a couple of the words they’re saying, but that’s it.

“I don’t speak your language,” I say again. “I’m a traveler from a faraway land, and want a place to sleep tonight.”

I think he understands what I’m saying, even if he doesn’t understand my words. He says something about a fee. At least, I think he says something about a fee.

Unfortunately, I don’t think Jozan and this land use the same coin, if what Christopher told me holds true. The two lands aren’t connected, except by that Dungeon.

But I do have loot. Maybe if I show them the loot?

I pull out the Kobold Ear I earned earlier, and the two guards stare at it. If loot is as rare as I think it is, then a pristine ear – such as a loot drop – would be valuable. Sure, I could have taken it off the kobold, but it wouldn’t be in pristine form, like this.

The guard who was speaking reaches out for it, and at first, I think he wants to take it as payment, but then I notice the way his hand is moving.

“Magic Bolt,” I summon one and hold it right in front of his face. “My village once had a passing thief attempt to steal Chief’s ring off his finger. A few moments later, he was nothing more than a corpse.”

The guard pauses. He can’t understand what I’m saying, but he can definitely understand my tone, and my Level 7 Magic Bolt, combined with my 32 INT, means that unless he’s an Adventurer or wearing enchanted armor – which a quick appraisal says he isn’t either – he has no defense against it.

Both guards pale, and the one who attempted to steal my ring steps back, sweating.

He says something that sounds like an apology, and I allow the Magic Bolt to dissipate. Then, the guard looks at the other one, telling him something. I think he’s telling him to go get someone.

The other guard nods, then enters the village. Ten minutes later, he returns with a man easily around twenty or so.

David, Human 4, Scout 25, Archer 13

Adventurer. He probably can’t understand me, though.

“What?” He looks at the first guard, then at me.

I understood that word, and a few others. I hear the guard carefully pronounce ‘Magic Bolt’ for a moment, gesturing to me as he says something else. Did he just say it in their language?

Velusan Human Language is now Level 2!

I can understand their language a lot better, now. I thank the System, knowing that it probably did that on its own, so that I could communicate with them a little bit.

+0 INT?

Question mark?

“The System rarely picks children,” I think he says. “Just because he used a spell, doesn’t mean he’s an Adventurer.”

At least they call them that here, too.

I know his status in their language, too, I determine.

“David, Human 4, Scout 18, Archer 3,” I carefully say in their language, and the Adventurer looks at me. “Language Skill gained, I speak a little, now.”

“How did you know my stats?” David asks.

“I looked at you.”

“Appraisal is one of the hardest Skills to gain,” he says. “Even the best on the continent doesn’t have it. Where do you come from.”

“Very, very far away.”

“I’ve heard that before,” he mutters, looking me up and down. “Jozan?”

He knows the country. I nod.

“Had three boys come by from there,” he says. “Two winters past. Never did understand what they said about where they came from. I’ve never heard of it before.”

“It’s very, very far away.”

“Only the fairies are north.”

“We come from the south.”

“You came from the north,” he says. “As did they.”

“And yet from the south is our home,” I state. “They be my friends. I’m looking for them. Got stuck in time… time… time… got stuck in time? Fuck this Skill Level.”

“That came across clear!” He laughs. “Come, Adventurer, and we shall talk.”

Velusan Human Language is now Level 3!

Did the System just do that again?

+0 INT?

It isn’t sure?

+0 INT!

Is it some passive thing I have?

+0 INT?

Possibly, then. So I have something passive that gives me a boost to learning languages and Leveling them.

+0 INT?

If the System can’t figure it out, it must not be something common. Hell, it could be related to why I have extra Mana that’s not from my MNA.

-0 INT!

“Whatchu looking at?” The Adventurer asks.

“Just thinking about something,” I say. “It appears that I have a passive bonus to learning and Leveling Language Skills. Can you tell me what happened to my friends?”

“The boys who came through here?” He asks, and I nod. “It was two winters ago. They were wounded and scared, and something about their party leader not leaving the Dungeon. They were saying something about using the Dungeon to leave their home and reach here, which made no sense at all.”

“Are they still here?”

“No,” he answers. “They said they had a quest. They waited a full month before leaving, though. Their party leader never arrived and they created a new party, I think. They said they’d waited a full month at the Dungeon itself, despite the freezing cold, and he never left the Dungeon. When they reentered, he wasn’t there. Then they left, said they needed to get stronger to reclaim the throne.”

“Do you know where they went?” I ask.

“Why are you searching for them?” He asks.

He thinks I’m after them, but at the same time, something’s off, but I can’t put my finger on it.

“I’m their Party Leader,” I state. “When I went to leave the Dungeon, I was pushed into a Rift that suspended me in time. I only just managed to return a few weeks ago, and came from the Dungeon to here. This was the nearest village when I left the forest, so this is where I came. I’m supposed to protect them, and need to find them.”

“I’m not sure where they’re at now,” he says. “Though if you stay the night, I can possibly find out as you sleep.”

Something warns me of danger.

Then I realize what it is.

He hasn’t broken eye contact with me once. I’m wearing a spatial ring, and he likely knows that, since I can sense magic around him. Any Adventurer can identify spatial rings by sight. Not only that, but they likely told him about it.

And they’re incredibly rare, and reserved only for the most powerful.

Yet his gaze hasn’t looked to it once.

“If they’re not here,” I say. “Then I’ve no reason to stay the night, and will continue to search for my team to the south.”

“I insist,” he says. “You’ve traveled a long way to come here, and-”

“And I said ‘no’,” I summon a Magic Bolt. “I’m not going to stay in a village filled with people after the spatial ring in my possession.”

“Listen here kid,” he snarls, putting a hand on the hilt of his sword. “A child like you couldn’t do much against an experienced Adventurer like me, now put away your basic magic and give me your ring, before you get hurt.”

I fire the bolt at his face, and he moves to avoid it. I fire off two more, the second one hitting him square in the face.

20+ Level Difference, 10+ Level Difference

+10 Human Experience!

+10 Class Experience!

Scout gained another Level.

I look at the guard who attempted to take the ring initially, and he looks scared.

“Magic Bolt.”

+1 Human Experience!