《Tosin the Legendary Healer》B2. Chapter 19
Advertisement
Chapter 19
We ended up repeating the dungeon seven times because a spellbook had not spawned on one of the runs. That meant seven attacks upon the bandit gate, seven bosses, and seven nights of sleeping in frigid temperatures.
On our last day camping by the dungeon mouth, other adventurers had begun to arrive, having followed the very same rumors. The dungeon was receiving enough action that we could feel its power lessen with each run. By the last run, the gate had weakened to a mere camp of bandits with spears. The buzzards were much smaller and the boss was significantly weaker.
We’d each received afflictions from each one of the colorful stags by the end of it all. The fire damage was brutal, the poison was awful, the slow down was torture, but the Mind Fissure was the worst. Each one of us were eternally grateful for the relief of Antoine’s spell.
Seven runs also meant that we each had a tremendous amount of loot. Samantah was kind enough to let me stow things away in her inventory pouch.
I’d received 48 copper, 50 silver and 4 gold coins. Seven mana crystals totalled an additional 74 mana points, effectively more than doubling my mana pool. For loot, I’d received 2 small statues, 6 buzzard pelts, a buckler, 3 lock picks, 4 torches, plate armor boots, a burlap sack of carrots, a book titled “Beyond the Blood,” a ristra of dried red peppers, 3 rings which might be silver, a gold necklace with a blue jewel on the charm, a runic stylo, and a scroll titled, “Reanimate Monster Corpse.”
Seeud, Henrick, and Jorge were content with their loot, mana crystals, and earning a spellbook each. “Not that we’ll use them,” Seeud had said. The warriors were interested in the monetary value the spellbooks had. They wagered they could earn at least 10-15 gold per book.
Samantah was kind enough to tip our driver a few items of loot as a thank you for his service—even though he’d already been paid in full, in advance.
As we set off to return to Klayvale in the dead of night, everyone had fallen asleep. I was too excited to sleep. I hadn’t had a proper chance to explore the spellbook I’d acquired on our third run. It was the only item I didn’t stow in Samantah’s inventory pouch.
I sat up against one of the benches, and gathered my cloak around me. There was a gash across the shoulder from a band of fire that had burned me. I loved my cloak, so it would be the first thing I tended to when we returned to the trading post.
It had stopped snowing halfway through our week. The night sky was clear, and both the moon and stars were pressed against the windowpane behind me. In the moonlight, I examined my new spellbook. The shadows of trees flew by as we traveled.
The longer I observed the spellbook, the more the air around the book began to fisheye. The book was dark and brown. I was entranced by it. The cover was made of the thickest leather I’d ever seen. Except it wasn’t exactly leather. Leather didn’t have scales that tightened and relaxed after it had been cured. This material did. The scales were almost snake-like.
Advertisement
When I ran my hand over the cover, the scales responded to the touch, tightening in a domino effect. I felt a ridge beneath my fingers. It slid. I recoiled in shock. There was a pocket. I tried to explore the pocket once more and I felt a chill run down my spine when I realized that it wasn’t a pocket. It was an eyelid that I had slid open.
The eye was a deep and dark magma red. The iris was oval and vertical, as though it belonged to a giant snake. What amazed me was the state of both hide and eye. The skin wasn’t dried and old. It was fresh and glossy, as though recently oiled. The eye was similarly glossy and I spied the moon in the reflection of the pupil.
The iris was incredibly textured. It looked like layers of magma colored moss had been pressed together. The eye did not move, but the longer I stared into its depths, the more it seemed to morph and waver.
Each time I blinked, all the visual effects stopped. The air no longer fisheyed around the item. The eye itself no longer seemed to morph and change color. But then I would find myself staring at the spellbook once more, and all of those hallucinations began again.
I had to shake my head several times to reset my vision. I wondered if the same thing happened with everyone else’s spellbook. Pelle’s had been purple, and nearly the same thing had happened when I had seen it. On first glance, each one of our spellbooks had been different. Mine perhaps looked the most plain.
I opened the spellbook for the first time. The first two pages were made of the same material that composed the cover. There were rows and rows of runes engraved on every centimeter of the pages. Each rune sheened a metallic color, even though the moonlight was insufficient to cause the sheen. I had no idea what any of them were.
I carefully turned the pages until I reached the first page of paper. There was a title and accompanying text written in swooping calligraphy.
It read: “Kreus Bursa. Draw from my power.”
The rest of the book was empty. I’d seen Antoine lay his Ease Mind Fissure scroll right atop a page and it had absorbed right away, transferring the runic spell in an instant. Though I had several scrolls, I counted only fifty pages in the book. Samantah had said that spellbooks were equipped with a rune that specifically added more pages by sacrificing permanent mana to do so. Even though I could expand the number of pages, I still wanted to be cautious of what spells I added to the book.
Cure Poison would be the first thing. Then maybe some spells that deal with elemental afflictions like cold or fire damage. Probably anything that has to do with healing as well. Of the 5 healing scrolls I had with me, I’d probably add Conjure Pyrrhon’s Potion.
My thoughts were abruptly interrupted when I felt the spellbook vibrating in my hands. I closed it and set it down on the floor before me. It went stil for a moment. It gave a final shudder and its scales writhed in random clusters. Crystals began to grow all over the spellbook. At first the crystals were small and druzy. Then the crystals began emitting very faint cracks and tinkles. The crystals grew larger and larger until they were the size of my fist. There were perhaps eight large crystals covering most of the spellbook. Mana crystals.
Advertisement
Ethereal filaments of blue mana swam in each crystal cluster.
“No way,” I whispered.
Could this spellbook be a source of mana crystals? Could I absorb them the same way as mana crystals earned from dungeons? How many points would I get per crystal?
I cast my mana bar in a smaller circle, so as not to wake my companions. Then I carefully hefted the crystal encrusted book and dropped it in the middle of my mana bar. It slowly wobbled as it floated. For the next two hours I absorbed all eight crystals that had grown on the hide of the spellbook. Each one silently imploded into dissipating sparks of light.
I added 38 points to my mana pool. My new total was 103. I couldn’t believe it! This was equal to crawling through at least 8 level 1 dungeons! I had so many questions. Why were crystals forming from the spellbook? Would it happen again? How often would it happen? Was there a drawback?
My mind whirled with dozens of overlapping thoughts. However, I was utterly wiped out from the effort and concentration of absorbing each crystal. So as soon as I lay back, I fell into a deep sleep.
In my dreams I slid down a deep dungeon tunnel.
It was our descent that woke me. Aluuth was being led down the mountains and we were making our way ever closer to Klayvale. When we stopped to give Aluuth a few hours of rest, food, and water, our driver came in to escape sudden turbulent winds.
“Mind if I?” Siberius said.
“Sure thing,” Samantah said. “We’re sharing bread and smoked salmon. Would you like some?”
“If you don’t mind.”
While we ate and gave Aluuth time to recover, Siberius filled us in on what the next few days would look like. There was so much snow that we were traveling half a dozen meters off the ground. The wind was atrocious and the return journey had started out scary for Siberius. Winds had almost tipped us over several times, so he and Aluuth opted to plow their own path on diagonals, zig zagging down the mountains.
“She paves a deep and wide path,” Siberious said of Aluuth. “At least other adventurers will have a lead down the mountain. Safer that way.”
We later felt a tug on the carriage-sled. Siberious gave a small chuckle, explaining that Aluuth was ready to embark once more. The animal preferred to descend as fast as possible, back to warmer lowlands. It was noon when we set off again, and I took the opportunity to show my spellbook to Samantah.
“Interesting,” she said. “A bit on the plain side. There’s quite a few runes in here I’m not familiar with.”
Antoine’s curiosity peaked and he leaned over to check out the runes for himself. Neither knew most of the runes.
“It grows crystals,” I said.
“What do you mean?” Antoine said.
“It grows crystals. Last night I was taking a good look at the spellbook, and at some point it grew crystals. Mana crystals.”
The warriors balked, casting dubious glances to each other. Antoine was deep in thought. Samantah just seemed confused.
“Where did they grow?”
“On the cover, mostly around the edges.”
“How many?”
“Eight clusters.”
“Did you absorb them all. Did you keep some aside?”
“I absorbed them all for 38 points.”
“38?” Antoine said in disbelief.
“It might be a characteristic of the spellbook,” Samantah said. “All spellbooks have some sort of character to them. They do different things, or offer different things. Could be buffs, or an additional rune on one of the pages, or something else. If yours grows crystals, that’s tremendously lucky. In fact, I’d warn you to keep that to yourself. Something like that is sure to be envied by many adventurers.”
“Could have been a one time thing,” I said.
“Unlikely,” Antoine said. “It's more likely that this will be a daily occurrence. Spellbooks are known to have daily limits to their boons. Unless it's a very rare and very powerful boon, it's more than likely a daily thing. You’re going to want to decide what to do with those crystals.”
“What do you mean?” I said. “Wouldn’t I just absorb them?”
“Naturally, but you could also sell them.”
“I’d have to break them off then.”
“You might risk damaging the spellbook,” Samantah said, then flipped it open to look over the runes once more. “It does have a regeneration rune in the event that it does take damage. You want my opinion though? Don’t take the risk. Just absorb the mana for yourself. Don’t risk damaging your spellbook just to sell the crystals. You’re low level anyways, you’re most in need of mana.”
I was direly in need of a greater mana pool, especially if I wanted to follow in the footsteps of Gryf, Axthose, Zekaidean, or even Boera. 700,000 mana points was a long way away. After a year of absorbing mana crystals from the spellbook alone, that would mean an additional 13,870 points, as an average. If I could greatly improve my gear and delve to higher leveled dungeons, then I could earn mana crystals that offer even more mana. Then I could create my own legendary spell!
Advertisement
- In Serial227 Chapters
The First Corridor of Old Works
But what is it, really? Old Works. They say, some do anyway, or would, if they still had tongues - it's a dream. That it's a million year old mystery connecting three planets. Some, yet other, anonymous entities, charge that it's a structure, more accurately, an architecture - a quest, even, made from, and through - corridors. Pretty inarguably, for one thing, it's a maze. Even some pronounce, if you can understand those currently vomiting blood, that it's a corporation, and yet others - the brave ones – and dead - say it's... near death. Or that it is. Death. - Death itself. But that dark thing on the horizon, that thing emerging to replace the only system we... know. - Whatever it is it couldn't be the end, of everything, could it? Eminently possible, but - it couldn't be worse? 3 civilisations/3 planets... and Old Works. 4 heroes: The Cyclops seeing out his Eye the reality of that place - and by means of that vision - greasing the many-toothed gears of that great old churning nightmare. The Writer sweating to keep the story alive that supports the great old lying structure. The Fake King who abides among all those tunnels of dreams and lies and dreams and... slaves. And the Hero Dreamt, all those slaves - to maintain that structure's even functioning, have to - at all... they dream him. They literally dream him. But that thing, from whence, who knows, arriving? What kind of sick demonic mind could even - But it can only be psychosis - Or possession. Reducing all of reality to some kind of – what would you call it? A Game? A video... joke? And that half-Cyclops, that beauty – what does she have growing – beneath her supernatural genitals? A game for him? A game/a dream; a – world? Or just Old Works. And this Wound in reality – that our writer near-died putting inside her. What is it anyway? And what reality does it bring with it. This demon or God. Through the corridors; lattices of smoke and shadows and colours; dungeons; and supernatural organs; the labyrinths made from dreams... and flesh. - What happens when they face that Wound – staring the absolute. right. in. them? - Through - What happens to all us... slaves... then? But at the end of the hallway, you see it there, I say you do, that turning - It's only the First Corridor of Old Works. This finished 104,000 word kind of LITRPGy fantasy novel, the First Corridor of Old Works will be released in daily 2000 word chapters, or equivalent [unfailingly at 20:47 GMT] Immediately followed by the Second Corridor of Old Works [161,000 words, edited, ongoing, as of 24/09/21] At first lite on stats these LITRPGy elements will become increasingly - built meticulously upon what precedes - ubiquitous, as we proceed into a world painstakingly built to support these mechanisms. After - minimum - 6 months, this manic daily release schedule will be somewhat relaxed: 5 days a week. - But don't lie to yourself it's not there. That thing watching at the end of the hallway... and where it leads. It's - Of countless, it could only be - The First Corridor of Old Works.
8 199 - In Serial8 Chapters
Shura Saga: Temple of Razors
Spawned within the bowels of the Temple of Razors, the Scarlet Thorn is an ancient martial Path of unfathomable power and limitless malice, and Ko'ais is its most promising prodigy in a thousand generations. Now, she seeks to flee the Temple and its murderous Razor Acolytes. Fortunately for her, she runs into Raksha, the sole apprentice of the legendary Shura the Destroyer, and entwines her destiny with his. But even together, they may still prove no match for Vo'rei, Blade Mistress of the Temple of Razors.
8 175 - In Serial5 Chapters
the ronald mcdonald fic
im sorry
8 71 - In Serial27 Chapters
Diary Of An Archaeologist - Wattys 2019 Non-fiction Winner
As a little girl I loved Indiana Jones, not Harrison Ford, no, Indy. I dreamed about one day exploring ancient temples just like him. Now, as an adult, many say I am a real life Indiana Jones. I'm an archaeologist with a masters degree in Cultural Heritage who works in museums and goes to excavations. I've seen the temples, held the skulls, encountered the creeps who only want the treasure, and yes, IT BELONGS IN A MUSEUM. But I'm not Indy, I'm no hero, no finder of priceless treasures; I'm just one person in a team of amazing experts who's job it is to try and uncover the truth about our past.And these are my stories.🎖2019 Watty Award winner Non-fiction🎖#1 in autobiography 11-09-2019
8 197 - In Serial14 Chapters
The Alpha Heist: Paranormal Shifter Romance
Stealing one gem? How hard could it be?From the moment Mel takes the assignment, she knows that it should be impossible. But for the supernatural world's foremost thief, impossible is an irresistible challenge. Especially when the payment for this job will get her one step closer to the one thing she desperately needs. When the jobs goes belly up, she finds herself in the lion's den and facing off with the sexiest man she's ever met.The alpha keeps what's his...No one steals from Luke Torres. His fortress is legend and his pack of lions are deadly, ready to face any threat. When Luke meets Mel, she knocks his socks off with a scorching kiss, but when they meet again, they are captor and captive in a deadly gave of cat vs. cat.One alpha, one thief, and an adventure of a lifetime.
8 117 - In Serial12 Chapters
Random steamy oneshots with a dominant older man and submissive young woman. All the chapters will contain a storyline. //Mature Content//Re-written and re-published.Readers discretion is advised. Only for those readers who are comfortable with sexual themes and mature language. 18+ and above.Please read the disclaimer before proceeding. started writing: 8/11/22finished writing:
8 177

