A sense of calm washed over Eris as she saw the lycan fall to his knees, his darkened forearms still trembling from the vicelike grip of Mel’Hakath’s shell. Taking out a blue-tinted mana potion, she watched the blonde healer rush to the others’ side. Compared to most groups she had had the pleasure of robbing, these three had almost made her reconsider her initial plan. Almost.

Her eyes darted over the menu’s options. She left the party and unleashed her trump card, chills running down her spine as all of her mana vanished. An almost invisible layer of ice began to spread from her feet in every direction. She observed carefully as her spell enveloped the ground and then the others, rapidly freezing them in place. Her breath now visible, she shuddered, the spell’s backlash taking effect.

Freeze Lock activated. Caster Movement Speed -30% for 15 minutes.

Freeze Lock (Spell)

Rank:ApprenticeLevel:1 (2.5%)

Magic School:Water

Chill a small area around you, encasing all targets in a thin sheet of ice that prevents them from moving for a set amount of time, or until damaged.

Additionally, casting this spell chills you as well, reducing your movement speed temporarily.

Freeze Duration: 30.0 Minutes

Movement Speed Reduction/Duration: -30%/15 Minutes

Mana Cost:75% Total Mana

Cast Time:0.5s

Cooldown:24.0h

“Oh no… No! Not here as well…”

Eris’ gaze fell upon the healer’s terrified expression, watching as the tears streaming down her face froze. She sighed, stepping over the three and discarding the empty vial in her hand. Still shaking from the cold, she brought the torch closer and knelt next to the boss’ remains.

Acquired Shell of Mel’Hakath (Enchanted) – A rare and sturdy crafting item, imbued with a part of the Defier’s magical energy.

A smile crept along her face as she picked up the coarse shell fragment. ‘Rare, eh? I’m sure someone will be more than willing to take this off my hands.’ And next to the boss’ rapidly decaying remains lay a small, crystal cube. She picked it up, startled by its unnaturally smooth surface, as a small, purple flame smoldered into existence inside the cube.

Acquired Keystone of the Defier (Unique) – A strange artifact retrieved from the Shrine of the Defier.

‘Okay, might as well hang onto this. And now…’ She turned and grinned, meeting the motionless gazes of the three strewn across the floor. “Oh, come on,” she chuckled, lumbering towards the blonde woman and extending a shaking hand towards the book at her waist, “don’t stare at me like that.”

But as she touched the tome’s weathered cover, a flash of searing light forced her to step back, her burnt fingertips throbbing with pain. “What the fuck was that…?” she mumbled, inspecting her hand. Frowning, she tried again, this time stopping right above the book as a notification chimed into her field of view.

Soulbound Item. Interaction prohibited in the absence of the owner’s consent.

“Are you kidding me?” She groaned and conjured an icicle into her hand, using up the last of her mana. The cool sensation helped to alleviate whatever pain she still felt as she used the icicle to try and pry open the book’s clasp. However, steam began to hiss the instant it came into contact with the dark leather. “Great,” she sighed, glancing at the three. But just as she was about to give up and leave, something caught her eye in the back of the platform.

She walked towards the stairs leading down, the torch’s light banishing the surrounding darkness to reveal an old, dusty chest. Lifting the lid, she rolled her eyes upon seeing the couple of yellowed scrolls within. However, she picked one of them up and her lips soon curled into a smirk as she looked at the multitude of oval markings dotting the scroll’s surface.

****

Through sustained exercise, your Vitality has increased by 1.

Due to strenuous activity, your Strength has increased by 1.

Drake fell to his knees, wheezing. He balled his fists, grabbing the blades of grass as he struggled to get his heartbeat under control. The gentle midday light that fell on his skin felt like the scorching heat of a blazing bonfire.

“Hah!” laughed Roy, his cheerful tone more grating than the pinpricks Drake felt whenever he dared to take a deeper breath. “Well, color me impressed! You actually managed to keep up with me. What do you say about running the whole distance back once we’re done here? I’ll even get a tad serious if you want a challenge!”

‘This old fuck… He didn’t even break a sweat after running for five hours straight…’ He spat, the taste of iron in his mouth still overwhelming, and forced himself up as a soothing gust of wind blew by. ‘Well, now I know what it’s like to run a damned marathon…’

Still, the past few hours did at least highlight the chasm between their abilities. It had taken every ounce of concentration just to get through this last stretch unscathed, since the way had meandered through thickly forested areas. He could’ve sworn that the master flew over a couple of gulches and the hills in the final stretch, because, no matter what, he never seemed to lose any speed.

“Ah,” sighed Roy, resting his hands on his hips. “Nothing beats a nice warmup early in the day. Come on! You’re missing the view.”

“View my ass…” he muttered under his breath, tensing afterward at the thought of the master hearing him. He raised his head, ready to roll his eyes, but instead ended up gasping.

Perched atop a hill, overlooking the valley in front of them, stood a giant keep. As if emerging halfway out of the steep cliff-face into which it was built, the castle-like structure dwarfed everything as far as he could see. That is, except for the mountains themselves at the foothills of which it held guard.

He fought against his legs and slowly stood up, regaining his balance bit by bit, when a system notification chimed into his view.

Vigor (Passive)

Rank:ApprenticeLevel:1 (0.0%)

By exerting yourself, you have improved your body's ability to withstand fatigue.

Stamina Regeneration +10%

‘With this, maybe I can at least avoid collapsing on the way back…’ He put the thought aside and followed Roy, who had already started towards the keep in a relaxed stride. Walking behind the master, he couldn’t help but smile. As far as he was concerned, the old mage’s figure loomed taller than the daunting grey walls ahead of them.

The actual state of the place became more apparent only as they approached the gate. One could only assume that it was the gate, judging by the bent metal grill that rested dozens of feet away from the large gap in the wall. Around them, broken statues and cracked boulders littered the inner courtyard. They headed towards the open doors in front of them as the wind howled and whistled its way through the tiny cracks in the wall. Strewn across the floor of the giant antechamber were skeletal remains, clad in rusty armor, with broken swords or spears sticking out of them.

“What happened here?”

“A siege,” said Roy, glancing at the frayed tapestries draped over the tall walls. “The Stills were nobles charged with ruling Bord and its surroundings, not unlike that Finch outcast you helped yesterday; the rogue with the crest tattooed on his face.” Their footsteps echoed, breaking the heavy silence as they walked along the dusty stone floor. More bones bleached white by time littered the hallway, reminders of times long gone.

“As you can see,” the mage continued, “the other nobles didn’t take kindly to the Stills. It all happened after the four great houses allied and staged a coup, killing the king back then, Roderick Villis. They didn’t appreciate the fact that Roderick levied them heavily instead of the commoners. It went against their idea of strengthening the kingdom. And with the king gone, the Stills soon found themselves at ends with these lunatics, since they refused to tax the people more.”

“So, they just wiped them out, no questions asked? And no one tried to help them?”

“Well, Xeladia was already in a precarious situation. The four houses moved quickly to snuff out the few dissenting voices, desperate to avoid a civil war. But the Stills proved a bit more problematic. Put simply, they fed the wrong narrative. They gave their subjects hope and respect. But they also held more power than most other houses and, as you can see, their keep was heavily fortified.”

“What about the Mages Guild? Didn’t they side with the Stills back then?”

“This all happened in 2429 ADE, so almost a century ago. The Guild came about a year later: as the royal court mages’ pathetic attempt to escape their guilt.”

“Because they didn’t do anything to stop the four houses?”

“Hah,” sighed Roy. “No, because they helped the insane bastards slowly run our kingdom into the ground. So, coming back to your question, no. The Stills were on their own. And because the other houses were in a hurry, they enlisted the help of Troria, the dwarven Republic, since they already knew the layout of the keep. Along with its weak points. In exchange –”

“The nobles promised the dwarfs goods, favors and discounted prices,” said Drake, the two of them stopping in front of a large, metal door. “For as long as they helped to maintain the… order.”

“Indeed. Seems like someone’s done their reading.”

The door screeched as the master pried it open, revealing a long, dark hallway. He then raised his palm and conjured an orb of mana, lifting the veil of darkness in front of them as it floated above their heads. They walked straight, going past several junctions that branched out deeper into the mountains.

Drake glanced around and sighed. ‘They really did build most of this place directly into the mountain…’ The corridor seemed to shrink around them the more they walked until, finally, they reached a long flight of stairs leading down. The air slowly turned stagnant, a faint, putrid breeze coming from the bottom of the stairwell, at the end of which stood a thick wooden door. It hung loosely by a single hinge, its splintered middle bashed inwards.

Seeing Roy place his hand on his sword’s hilt, he followed suit. A few minutes later, a low snarl stopped them in their tracks as two blue flames appeared, hovering in the darkness. The master’s orb revealed a shambling apparition that clutched a rusty sword and an old, dented buckler. Ragged leather armor hung over the creature’s pale, white bones.

“A Skeletal Warrior, level 8,” said Drake, aiming his left hand towards the monster while holding his sword horizontally over his shoulder.

“Above your pay grade?”

“No,” he grinned, lowering his stance. The Skeleton, however, looked straight at Roy, not paying him any heed. ‘Alright, no need to hold back this time. And hell, even the mobs in-game are ignoring me now…’

He fired a Manabolt at the creature’s head and dashed forward. The Skeleton turned to face him and blocked, a muted thud echoing throughout the hallway. Drake raised his sword and swung! But he couldn’t bring it down as the blade clanged against something. Before he could even think of parrying, the monster snarled and struck.

You have been hit! -31 HP.

He staggered back, the dull ache in his chest slowly giving way.

“Mind your surroundings, runt!”

Roy’s words startled him as he stepped back, dodging a large swing aimed at his head. He glanced up and nearly froze. ‘Fucking ceiling’s too low…'

The master’s laughter ripped through the cramped corridor. “That’s it, now have at it!”

Drake rushed the monster again, casting another Manabolt at its head. And then another. Both dispersed on impact with the buckler, but as the creature brought down its shield, its target had vanished.

Bone shattered the moment Drake’s blade made contact. As it blocked, he had sidestepped into the Skeleton’s blind spot, getting behind it. He then aimed for the leg, severing its tibia and toppling it over.

You have dealt a critical hit!

You have dealt a crippling strike! Enemy Movement Speed -50%.

Before it could get back up, he drove his sword into the back of the monster’s skull, extinguishing the flames inside.

You have dealt a critical hit!

You have gained 66 experience points.

He sighed and checked his chest. “Even with the armor, that still hurt,” he said, feeling the small scratches on the chainmail’s rings.

“Well, these things are slow,” smirked Roy, “but you shouldn’t just give them the opportunity to bash your head in!”

He reached down, wrenching the dented buckler from the monster’s grasp. It then disappeared into his inventory, before appearing on his left arm. “Yeah…”

You have obtained 1x Old Buckler.

Old Buckler

An old, dented buckler. Provides a decent amount of protection.

Equipment Slot:Arm-mounted ShieldEncumbrance:1

Durability:4/10Physical Defense:5

“Good tactic, though. Impairing its vision and then getting behind it like that. Still…” Furrowing his brow, the master grabbed Drake’s hand and took his sword, inspecting the blade’s fresh dent. “You’re not bad with a sword, but your edge alignment’s off by a bit. If you had hit the joint cleanly, there wouldn’t have been this much damage to the blade.”

He knew that Roy had a point. As Drake, his experience with a sword boiled down to only a couple of fights. Ryan however, had dedicated almost every morning of the last sixteen years to practicing his swing. It helped him to focus his attention away from the daily drudgery of life onto something else. A single, cathartic action meant to calm and center him. And despite his shinai not being the real deal, he at least drew confidence from his countless hours of training.

“This does kind of put things into perspective…” said Drake, staring at his chipped blade. “And to think I actually prided myself on my skill.”

Turning his back to him, Roy went on ahead, his voice resounding within the dusty corridor. “If a single setback is enough to make you doubt yourself, then you might have misplaced that pride of yours. Giving up comes naturally, but in life, anything worthwhile requires constant sacrifice.”

Gazing down at the motionless skeleton, Drake balled his fists and grit his teeth, desperate to force down the lump in his throat. ‘Shit… am I really that conceited?’ He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath and, as he exhaled, relaxed his body. He repeated this a few more times, focusing solely on his breath. The image of the park’s small lake appeared inside his mind and he imagined holding the weathered hilt of his old shinai. Alongside him, his old teacher smiled and nodded as they both practiced. Back then, the old bamboo sword seemed far heavier and larger, nestled between his small hands.

His composure restored, his mind became aware of the mana particles ebbing and flowing around him. He then quickly opened his eyes, his heart rate increasing just a bit as he felt the waves of energy radiating from the silver-haired mage in front of him. ‘Holy fuck… he’s out of my detection radius, but I can still feel his mana.’ A chuckle escaped him as he went after the master, quickening his pace.

“Feeling better?” grinned Roy, seeing his apprentice come up beside him with a bit more spring in his step.

Drake nodded. Curiosity then got the better of him and he activated Xelian Meditation right next to the master, ignoring the ominous feeling in his gut. Immediately, his field of view disappeared, blinded by the light emanating from the old mage. He stopped and reached out for purchase on the cracked stone walls.

“Now, why did you go and decide to do that?” Roy asked, not bothering to stifle a snicker. “You can’t even see my level, and you thought it was a good idea to try and sense my mana up close?”

“What gives…?” groaned Drake, his eyes still watering. “Arthur’s aura was nowhere near as bright as that.”

“Hah! That poor fella’s gone soft in his old age. Though I assume he was probably just nice enough to hold back,” he grinned, slamming his palm against Drake’s back. “Or the same thing would’ve happened with him as well!”

‘Asshole…’

“Oh, lighten up. There’s no need for that look. Here,” he said, unsheathing his sword. Seeing this, Drake took a step back instinctively. “I’ll make it up to you by showing you something nifty.”

Roy held the blade in front of him and dragged his hand across the blade. Trailing behind his fingers, a faint, blue aura enveloped the edges as they began to glow and pulsate. A nearby stone, jutting out of the wall, caught the master’s eye. He raised his weapon and slashed, leaving a deep gash on the uneven surface.

“Learn this and you’ll greatly increase the damage that you can do. And hell, check out the edge.”

Stepping in closer, Drake examined the tip. The sharp metal glinted faintly, with no sign of even the smallest of dents.

“Ah, perfect timing,” said the master, stepping aside. “Why don’t you give it a try?” The light from the mana orb above them revealed another skeletal monster further down the corridor, shambling towards them.

“Right now?!” Roy’s impassive grin made it clear. Arguing was pointless. Drake sighed and closed his eyes, envisioning the mana flowing through his body. He squeezed his sword’s hilt and carefully placed two fingers on the blade’s spine. Channeling a steady drip of mana into his hand, he did as the master had shown him and forced mana into his weapon.

He could now hear a low whine coming from his sword. Thin, blue flames danced along the blade, only for them to fizzle out a moment later.

“Not quite there, runt.”

Rolling his eyes, Drake turned to face the level 7 Skeletal Warrior, which was still relatively far away. He tried to imbue his sword with his mana again, only to arrive at the same result. ‘There weren’t any flames when he did it, just that glow around the edges…’

He shook his head and took his stance: left hand raised, weapon at the ready. The Skeleton, fixated on Roy, inched forward. Drake frowned and aimed for its head, casting Manabolt twice. Like before, it blocked and turned to strike. But its balance had already crumbled. Its left leg gone, the creature tumbled to the side, unable to do anything against the blade that then shattered its spine.

You have gained 55 experience points.

Sword Proficiency (Passive)

Rank:ApprenticeLevel: 1 (0.0%)

Skill Scope:Weapon Proficiency

You have grasped the basics of utilizing your sword. As a result, you deal more slashing and piercing damage when using swords.

Bonus Slashing & Piercing Damage: 5.0%

“Better,” he mumbled, inspecting his blade and his newly acquired skill. This time, the strikes had also taken less of a toll on his wrists.

Having dealt with the distraction, they moved on. Drake tried his hand several more times at the spell Roy had shown him. Adding more mana caused the blue flames to grow, less resulted in nothing. The speed with which he tried to cast it also played no role. Every attempt ended with the flames disappearing just moments later.

“Master, I give up… what’s the problem? Is it the runes on your sword? Or am I doing something wrong?”

Roy simply chuckled and handed him his weapon. Drake nearly dropped the master’s blade the instant he tried to lift it. ‘Heavy… What the hell’s this thing made of?' With the sword firmly in this grasp, he closed his eyes and focused mana into the tip of his fingers, slowly applying it over the runed surface. One by one, the runes lit up as flames began to dance around the weapon. By the end, he had used more mana than in all his other attempts, but the flames still vanished.

“Does that answer your question?”

“It does and that just raises another one… why not just tell me what I’m messing up?”

“I’d be lying if I said it’s not amusing to see you squirm.”

The old mage’s words still managed to get under his skin, despite Drake knowing that that was exactly what the old mage had in mind.

“But,” Roy continued, “I do think that figuring it out for yourself will help you a lot more than me just giving you the answer. If, however, you still want me to tell you, then I will.”

Not wanting to hear another word, Drake groaned and went ahead. He opened his Skills & Spells Window and scratched his head as he inspected his four skills. ‘There has to be some sort of hint somewhere…'

The hallway around them slowly grew in height, the more they explored the Manor’s underbelly. Finally, they went through an archway, passing by two shattered wooden doors, each comprised of logs as thick as a grown man. Beyond that, the corridor opened up into a large chamber. Pillars, lined along the edges, reached all the way up to the tall, curved ceiling. Scattered around them laid dozens of calcified remains, while at the far side of the room stood a massive stone door, adorned from top to bottom with different scenes carved onto its surface.

The chamber quaked as they reached the center, cracks spidering across the stone floor. As the shaking stopped, a quest update chimed in front of Drake.

An Elegy Of Years Gone By

Update: You have found the rumored tomb sealed underneath Stills Manor. Conquer the trials set before you and find a way to enter the tomb.

“According to the system, this is a trial,” he said, taking his stance with his back against the master’s.

Roy’s eyes darted around the floor. Several interlocking circles had been carved into the cracked floor, which Drake could only assume were magical formations of some sort.

“Indeed,” grinned Roy as he then vaulted back to the entrance in just a couple of steps. “Your trial.”

A harsh hiss made Drake jerk just as he opened his mouth to say something. Small, blue pairs of flames lit up the corners of the room, revealing several skeletal figures hiding in the darkness.

An arrow whistled by as he lunged to the side. A quick scan revealed its source: a Skeletal Archer, hidden behind two others wielding tower-shields. It nocked another arrow and took aim at Roy. Seven in total, they fanned around the entrance and approached the master.

“You’re fighting him,” scowled Roy, leaning against the wall, arms crossed.

You have activated Mana Manipulation

‘Again… Why the hell would they only target him?’ Azure flames swirled violently within Drake’s palm, who now stood near the large, stone door. The orb grew bigger and brighter the more mana he channeled into it, and then began to shrink, spinning faster and faster.

You have unlocked a Manabolt Variant. Would you like to name the Variant?

“Yes…” With a third of his mana gone, he grinned and aimed at the Archer’s chest. “Spell Piercer!”

Spell Piercer (Spell – Manabolt Variant)

Base Spell Rank:ApprenticeBase Spell Level:1 (87.3%)

Magic School:Arcane

By channeling more mana into the spell and applying a stronger rotational force, you have managed to increase the power of your basic Manabolt spell.

Target Arcane Resistence[b]: -5%

[b]Base Spell Power:37.4

Base Mana Cost:30

Base Cast Time:1.0s

Sensing the imminent threat, the two guards turned and joined their shields together. Drake braced his arm and fired, but the recoil still threw him into the door. The spell shattered through the old shields and blew away the Archer’s torso. It then continued to race towards the entrance where Roy stood. The old mage smirked and waved the spell out of existence just before it hit him, his eyes fixated on his apprentice.

With practiced steps, Drake zigzagged between the two shield-wielders. He severed one’s head, and kicked the other to the ground, before running his blade through its sternum. The four remaining Skeletal Warriors turned around, as if provoked by the flames of their brethren’s eyes flickering out of existence.

They inched forward, trying to flank him. But Drake darted to the side. He stopped in front of a pillar and, like before, conjured a sphere of mana between his fingers. This time, however, he leaned back and channeled almost everything he had into it.

The spell crashed into two of the Skeletons, smashing one to pieces and blowing away half of the second’s ribcage. Before they could regroup, he jumped and cleaved the wounded monster in half. He followed up with a diagonal slash, but missed, as the other Skeletal Warrior thrust towards him, hitting his arm and forcing him back.

You have been hit! -47HP

He stood just out of reach. One of the Skeletons lurched forward. Drake parried and hacked off its wrist, the rusty sword clanking against the floor. As the two creatures hesitantly took a step back, two Manabolts flared towards them. They raised their bucklers to defend, only for their legs to be sundered off in two swift strikes.

You have gained 110 experience points!

Drake lowered his sword. He glanced around, checking for any other monsters he might’ve missed, when he saw the master approaching him.

“Well done. However, you’d do well to remember one thing,” he said, handing Drake a couple of vials. “Being prepared will swing most fights in your favor. As an aside, that also means not burning through all of your mana for just a few small fries.”

You have acquired 1x Small Mana Potion and 1x Small Healing Potion

Small Healing Potion

A useful healing item, capable of healing most wounds.

Restores 25% of total HP

Item Category:Consumable (Healing)

Item Category Cooldown5 Minutes

Small Mana Potion

A versatile combat aid, this potion is capable of restoring some of your missing mana.

Restores 25% of total MP

Item Category:Consumable (Healing)

Item Category Cooldown5 Minutes

Still a bit out of breath, Drake replied. “I can still use this skill called Xelian Trance, though.”

“Runt, let me ask you: what happens to a mage that uses that skill and gets interrupted, when said mage has a lot more mana than… what did you call’em? Oh, right… Health points?”

While he did consider its backlash damage, the thought that just that damage could kill him at higher levels hadn’t crossed his mind. “T-they’d die…”

“Treat that skill as a last resort. Otherwise, use it between fights or when someone can cover for you. Now…”

Passing him, Roy headed towards the stone gate. He followed and watched as the old man slid his hand across its surface, stopping at a coin-shaped indentation at its center. Thin channels carved their way out of the small cavity, spiraling out to the edges. These grooves divided the scenes etched into the door in four distinct sections, each one somehow eerily familiar to Drake.

It took a second, but it finally dawned on him. ‘These carvings look a lot like those in the alcoves… the ones surrounding the lobby’s bonfire.’ The four different sections each illustrated various scenes. The bottom-left side showed Enoa’s five mortal races gathered around a tower-like structure. Above it was the image of a large, inverted pyramid, floating in the sky with dozens of dragons circling around it. The opposite side depicted two armies clashing with one another: tall, angelic creatures locked in combat with horned demons, clad in armor.

“Master, what’s depicted here, exactly?”

“The Shattering. But we don’t have time for fairy tales right now. Instead, try focusing and tell me what you sense.”

Raising an eyebrow at Roy’s expedient tone, he did like he was told and closed his eyes. Although faint, he could see narrow currents of mana converging from the surrounding walls towards the hole at the door’s center.

“Die, mage…”

Drake’s eyes shot open upon hearing the low, guttural voice.

“Did you hear that as well?”

“I did,” grinned Roy, his eyes glancing up towards the ceiling. He then took out and opened the small, wooden box they got from the caravan, holding the inscribed coin in front of Drake. “Alright, so the key goes into this slot, right here. That brings us to our two problems. First, there’s a devouring seal on the door. As in, unless someone pumps this thing full of mana, it won’t budge. And once you start this process, stopping’s not an option.”

“And the second problem…?”

“There’s a cranky, old spirit just itching to get out the moment I activate this seal. And that’s where you come in. So…” he said, inserting the old coin into the door, “try not to die on me while you distract the bastard.”

The entire chamber quaked again as the master’s mana flooded the seal, illuminating the thin channels carved into the doorway.

“You WON’T get in…”

The hair on the back of Drake’s neck stood on end. He spun around, searching for the voice’s source, and when he couldn’t see anything, he turned to face the door.

Behind him, a deafening crash shook the room. Pieces of rubble fell from the ceiling. And as the dust settled near the crater in the center of the chamber, a large, armored figure rose to meet Drake’s gaze.

You have engaged the mini-boss, Skeletal Knight Zane Stills.