An invitation to a duel with a battlemage, and directions to go with it. Jake’s heart raced. This wouldn’t be a hungry wolf, a village thug, or an amateur struggling to work things out, but a battlemage trained in warfare.

Even if Gramok had been right and his opponent was only level ten, that was still four levels higher than him. Four levels, and actually knowing what the fuck they were doing. His stomach twisted and clenched.

What other choice was there? Give in, run away? Muscles tightened throughout his body. That wasn’t happening. He headed back to the first room.

The directions from the amulet were based on facing back toward the courtyard. Which way had he been facing when he came in? He shook his head. It didn’t really matter.

He teased out a little mana and cast Farsight, holding the image of the room above in his mind and keeping his eyes open. “Enmokajona!”

Wooden panels, marble floor. Cara pacing up and down with an arrow notched.

At least she was okay. Looking around, both visions moved in sync. Needles stabbed at his temples and his eyes itched to close.

He faced the doorway and severed the mental connection. She deserved to know he wasn’t dead, but teleporting back would look a lot like a retreat. There had to be a way to contact her. How had Pankar done it? Maybe the amulet would help devise a messaging aspect, but that would take longer than simply completing his mission, one way or the other.

Would the duel start the moment he arrived? No. It was a duel, not an ambush—the Order of the Battlemage was too honorable for that.

Jake frowned. It was harder and harder to differentiate his knowledge from that of his skills. Would the lines blur until it didn’t matter anymore?

Deep breaths. Racing in hotheaded would end badly. Calm, logical thinking, focused on the task at hand. There’d be time for anything else later.

One twenty squared, ninety squared, sixty squared, sum, square root. About 160 yards. Too far. He pulled up Jeremy’s original Teleport spell and cut it down less than before. His whole body stiffened. This would be seriously pushing it.

It’d be easier without the armor. Why didn’t humans get useful racial buffs like Tough Skin? Or maybe native humans did.

A dull weight spread through his chest. Tough Skin hadn’t stopped him from killing those orcs.

Not like it would help against magic, anyway. He removed the armor, folded it, and placed it on the floor. The cold bit even harder. Hopefully, he could pick it up on the way back.

The cave—120 yards down, 90 yards forward, 60 yards to the left. “Enmokajona!”

A grainy image. Around two dozen black blobs all around, light gray behind them. Tingling adrenaline flushed through him. That was them.

Anything coming? All clear. He closed his eyes and cast the new Teleport spell. “Rakatara-fa!”

Portals magic skill increased 1 → 2!

The world jerked. Dark-robed figures stood twenty feet away, circling him. Hoods covered their faces, and their robes were long enough to just barely touch the ground. Twenty-four in total, evenly spaced except for one gap twice the size.

Those without a staff had a wand at their belt. Jake coiled up and reached for his sword. None of them moved. He clenched the leather grip but didn’t draw. A delay was good.

MP: 148/280

What were they waiting for? The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. Was he supposed to say something?

Their robes and weapons were all enchanted to varying degrees. One of the staff wielder’s robes shone far brighter than them all. The leader, it had to be. Jake faced them and activated Identify.

The broad-shouldered figure stepped forward and threw back her hood. The wrinkles in her green skin did nothing to diminish the warning lights going off in Jake’s head. A dungeon boss?

She bowed her head and released her staff to float in the air. She held out her hands to the side, her palms open, and spoke with a soft warmth that filled the room. “Welcome, Jacob, to our Temple.”

He glanced from side to side. What was taking his Identify so long? This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. “Err… hi.”

The orc reclaimed her staff and held his gaze. “We have not had a challenger descend in a long time.” She paused, and a hardness slipped into her voice. “Adventurers clear the surface dungeon and leave, their chests puffed up as if they’ve achieved something of worth.”

Two dungeons. A shiver ran down his spine. This one definitely wasn’t level 10. “How does the duel work?”

She chuckled. “I see youth still seeks to cut to the chase. Some things never change. You have made the challenge. Two enter, a barrier is erected, one leaves.”

A knot twisted in his gut. “To the death?”

“For what little that means to either of us, yes.”

Jake stared and blinked. What did she know? “How old are you?”

Her smile widened. “Ah, there is still some curiosity in the youth then. I lived a good sixty-eight years.” Her posture stiffened. “I’ve existed for 10,000 years.”

“What’s the difference?”

The skin beneath her eyes tightened. Seconds dragged by. “Pray that you never understand the difference.”

“Have you all been here that long?”

“Yes, though I was and remain the eldest.”

Jake’s heart sank. Ten thousand years to hone their craft. The Battlemages respected strength. Speaking confirmed she was the leader, hence the strongest. “Are you my opponent?”

A smirk spread across her lips. “If you wish. How is your Identify coming along?”

Still nothing, not even a name. Either she’d invested heavily in resisting Identify, or she was vastly more powerful. “I can choose?”

“That is the challenger’s right. If you win, you will learn a unique ability from your opponent.”

Tingling lightness spread through his chest. Maybe this would be worth it after all. “If I lose?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Is meeting Death not enough for you?”

Did she already know? Could she read his mind? Did she even need to?

“You came to eliminate the risk to the village, did you not?”

An obvious inference, he might as well admit it. “Yes.”

“Do you believe we pose a threat?”

“Do you?”

“No.” She let out a heavy sigh. “You believe me. Alas, young Kadora outside will not consider the Temple cleared so long as we live. He granted you a quest, correct?”

He nodded. Not like she didn’t already know. The quest was worth a whole level’s worth of XP—where was she going with this?

She pressed her lips together into a smile and took a deep breath. “Then might I suggest additional stakes?”

What could he offer a 10,000-year-old battlemage? “I’m listening.”

“If you win, we shall eliminate the threat in the dungeon for you. Your quest shall complete.”

How? He frowned. “You mean—”

“Yes. Your concern does you credit, but we will reform after a few days.”

A very generous offer. What was the catch? “And in return?”

“When next you speak to the God of Death, plead for our permanent end.”

His heartbeat slowed. “But… why?”

“Excellence is life.” Her shoulders slumped and her eyes dulled. “Do you know when I last leveled up or increased a skill?”

A heavy weight washed over him. He shook his head.

“In 10,000 years, none of us have gained a single skill. An order devoted to mastering all aspects of our craft.” Her nostrils flared and she slammed her staff into the ground. “All the time in the world to hone our skills, and we cannot.” She paused, and her voice softened again. “Plead our case, Jacob, I implore you.”

Jake swallowed. How could anyone have done this? “I will.”

She bowed her head. “Thank you. You may, of course, challenge any of us, but there are two of our number who would provide suitable challenges. Kratgok the Hammer, and Vriktran the Scorpion.”

They didn’t sound ominous, not at all. “What abilities would they grant?”

“Kratgok has mastered his own body. Vriktran is an expert at inflicting injuries.” Her eyes went blank for a moment, and information pushed into his mind.

Mind Over Body: Increases Strength or Dexterity by Intelligence. Consumes five mana per second until deactivated. Single charge ability. Recharged at dawn.

Battlemage’s Fury: Increases critical chance and critical severity of offensive spell effects by 100%. Consumes five mana per second until deactivated. Single charge ability. Recharged at dawn.

“Could I challenge both?”

She chuckled. “If you wish, they would happily oblige, though you will only gain one ability. The dungeon itself grants that.”

Damn. “Not an easy choice. Battlemage’s Fury—how does it stack with perks?”

“Multiplicatively.”

With the right spec, that could be devastating. He frowned. It wouldn’t be too late to change tact and focus on critical hits. They’d certainly done a number on Gramok. A few good hits might take down even the most powerful of foes.

Might. Even doubled, crits couldn’t be relied upon. Putting trust in luck was just begging for trouble. Cara had shown just how useful Dexterity could be. Strength, too. His chest loosened, and a chuckle rolled out. For a minute a day, he’d be able to outrun her.

“I’ll fight Kratgok.”

She bowed her head and stepped back. “Very well.”

Footsteps behind him. He turned toward the battlemage who’d stepped forward.

Another orc, his hood now down. He smiled and bowed from the waist. “I honor your challenge, Jacob Williams.”

Jake activated Identify and bowed in return. No sense in being impolite. “Thank you. The honor is mine.”

“You lack armor. We could fetch yours, or provide a basic battlemage robe.”

Heat rose in Jake’s chest. They were about to fight to the death, and they wanted to equip him first? They really did want a challenge. His heart slowed and he swallowed. Dedicated to their goals, even after 10,000 years stuck in the mud.

Kratgok the Hammer

Level: 10

HP: 195/195

Stamina: 210/210

Status:

Identify skill increased 1 → 2!

Four levels higher—25% more Magic Resilience. Less health, although not enough to make up for it. A bit less stamina, not that it would matter in a magical duel.

More information wouldn’t go amiss, and Cara had Identifying targets quickly nailed down. He spent the perk point on Thorough Identify. How long would it take?

MP: 195/195

Strength: 10

Dexterity: 10

Endurance: 7

Intelligence: 21

Willpower: 15

Personality: 16

Kratgok smiled, waiting patiently for an answer about the armor. A wand hung at his belt. No other weapons. The elven leather would surely provide better armor, but most spells bypassed it. In a battle of magic, the spell casting penalty wouldn’t be worth it.

“I’d like the armor back, but I’ll take the robe for this fight.”

“A wise choice.” The battlemages to Kratgok’s left and right both cast spells and teleported away.

Not long later, they returned, one with his armor, the other with an enchanted robe. They carefully placed the armor on the floor out of the way and handed Jake the robe.

Smooth as silk, and completely silent. He held them up and bit his lip. Had he misunderstood? The robe had no armor value at all. There was an enchantment of some kind, but no power to it. It did nothing.

“It harnesses your own Magic Resilience, mirroring its value in your Armor.”

Jake looked up and nodded. At least it would grow in tune with his level, but 160 armor was a far cry from the 480 the elven leather provided. He placed his bow and quiver upon the ground, removed his sword belt, and pulled the robe on.

It fit perfectly. The chill of the air receded. He reequipped his gear and checked his falchion and wand were secure. “Thank you.”

“Are you ready?”

This was it. Jake’s heart rate spiked. He nodded.

A teal ring lit up just inside the circle of battlemages. Kratgok walked forward, toward one of two much smaller circles inside the ring.

Jake took position in the opposite circle and faced his opponent. Jump to offense, or buff and go for the longer game? If he went for the killing blow and failed, he’d be completely exposed.

Kratgok bowed deeply. “May the contest be excellent.”

“May the contest be excellent.”

Absorb had to be a priority—Jake was a sitting duck without it. Twenty feet apart, only a second of sprinting. Cast Absorb, and then attack before there was time for a second cast?

If Kratgok buffed Armor, a quick spell. If he went for Absorb, a falchion to the face. A single spell could do both Armor and Absorb, but it’d be weaker. Weak enough to punch through with a powerful spell?

Thud! The lead battlemage’s staff slammed against the floor. A translucent teal barrier rose from the outer ring, erecting a barrier up to the ceiling.

Butterflies fluttered in Jake’s chest. What spell? Fire and Energy were both level 3, but Ignite was more familiar than Lightning. He put the unassigned Fire perk into Quick Cast and clenched his jaw. No room for hesitation.

Thud! Thud! Thud! Silence fell, into which her voice boomed. “As Arch-Battlemage of the Order, I, Yana the Dragon, recognize this challenge. The duel shall be to the death. Jacob Williams, are you ready?”

Tension coiled through his chest. Ready as he’d ever be. “I am.”

“Kratgok the Hammer, are you ready?”

The orc’s eyes widened and he grinned. “I am.”

“Three! Two! One! Duel!”

Jake pulled on his mana, his fingers racing to finish the two-second cast.

Teal magic glowed around each of the orc’s hands. An Armor spell. No, Absorb. Shit—Armor with one hand, Absorb with the other. Two spells at once.

Pain jabbed at Jake’s chest. Stick to the plan. “Nismaevka!” Absorb up; Firebolt (Heavy, 3s) next.

Two teal shimmers enveloped the orc. With both hands working together, he swirled a small teal disc into existence. More Protection magic. A shield?

Would it stop the Firebolt? Jake’s gut twisted. He’d already spent the mana. Too late to change. “Enkir!”

Heat tingled against Jake’s fingers. The battlemage swung the disc into the firebolt’s path. The bolt smashed through, shattering the shield. It hit the target, only to dissipate in a flurry of red flame and flickering teal.

0 fire damage dealt (313 deflected, 63 absorbed)!

Fire magic skill increased 3 → 4!

Fuck.

The bastard smirked and stood there, ready to do it all over again.

Blood pounded in Jake’s ears. No way that cost more mana than a firebolt. But… it hadn’t been a big disk. And Jake had an extra Fire Power perk now.

MP: 148/280

He tugged on his mana and recast the spell, forgoing the voice component. If the battlemage could cast two spells at once, so could he. How well could the smug bastard deflect with blinding light in his eyes?

The orc’s hands moved rapidly, each weaving white energy in the air at a blistering pace.

Force magic. Jake’s stomach hardened. Not Protection. He had to fire first. He prepped the Light spell for a vocal cast.

The battlemage charged impossibly fast, grasping hands out in front.

Jake blinked. Dodge or keep casting?

Huge hands collided with his chest. Boom!

23 force damage received (334 absorbed)!

A blunted shockwave rippled through him. His ears rang… and a truck smashed into his brain.

Everything blurred. His knees hit the floor. He swayed from side to side. Standing… standing was impossible.

Spell? Had he been casting? The mana… the mana was gone.

He lifted his chin. Was that a wand?

A barrage of bolts smashed into his head and chest.

21 force damage received!

Injury received (Concussion)!

9 force damage received!

11 force damage received!

19 force damage received!

Injury received (Broken Rib)!

22 force damage received!

Injury received (Internal Bleeding)!

Where was he? Pressure piled against his head. Fiery pain engulfed his chest. His lungs refused to scream.

He blinked. Why was it so bright in here?

The enemy. There. Leaning against the barrier. Coward.

“Yield, child.”

Child? The orc couldn’t be much older than him. Jake forced himself to his feet.

HP: 116/225

MP: 67/280

Why was his mana not going up? His chest tightened. Another wave of agony. He clenched his jaw and stumbled forward another step.

Shit. Why was his health ticking down?

“Jacob Williams, it has been a pleasure.”

Fire stampeded through Jake’s body. Fuck that. He wasn’t going down alone.