Luke observed the citizens in Sylen erupt into a panic.
People shrouded themselves in fear, others yelled out, and more still broke down with defeated gazes.
An old man with war scars muttered yards away from Luke, but the noise was evident to his honed sense, “It’s coming again…again…they’ve already taken my wife and kids. Is it my turn? Has my time come? When does the cycle end?”
With no experience in restoring order, Luke let the people worry over what they could not control. The Tide would come whether they feared it or not. He walked into the Defier’s guild with a measured gait. While the message unnerved him, people repeatedly warned Luke that it was coming, which helped him to adapt quickly.
What is the third pantry? All this talk of tributes and food?
Luke paused in the middle room between the Hunter’s Branch and the Defier’s Branch. He accepted a seat underneath the artificial sun rotating in the vaulted ceiling above him. Tuning out the chatter fueled by fear, Luke observed the portraits all around the room.
Here are men and women who rose against the Tide. Would people have to live in fear if we had more of such people?
Ironically, his recent fight under the guise of ‘Rune’ got Luke to think like this. Yelaris’ team was…underwhelming. When Luke rose through tier zero, he didn’t think much of people being weak, uncoordinated, and barely able to fight monsters near their level in a party. The Reaver believed those in the next tier rose above and were higher quality fighters.
That the average combat class only needed to ‘find their footing’ during the first twenty five levels. But that illusion was shattered in that fight. He took on a more experienced, if weak, tier 1 party, and it could barely be considered a challenge.
Add in the outburst of Jania and a vivid portrait started to form in Luke’s mind. An extreme minority were trained, coordinated, capable, and could push their limits. To civilians, the majority of those asked to defend them were lackluster; worse still, they stagnated exceptionally early. For example, why did so few people have any real level of mastery in a technique?
Was it talent?
Luke no longer believed so. Perhaps his technique came about from constantly being at the edge. When abilities were no longer enough, rather than give up, techniques were born.
And so followed the Defiers.
Yet, there were next to none of his brothers and sisters—in an entire city of hundreds of thousands or possibly millions of people. You’d think there would be at least a thousand like Luke, having an expert understanding of one technique at the minimum.
There were nine. And only a handful of days ago, eight.
Truly pathetic. No wonder they think of us as food. We’re like horses led to the water but refuse to drink from the water pool of techniques. What else would we be? Can it change? Am I being too harsh on others?
Amidst the people in the main lobby running around like chickens with their heads cut off, Luke began to speak to Xera.
“Xera, you said another Reaver had…what was it, fire, that he used, right?”
Xera spoke from her sheath, “Fire boy? Yes, if that stubborn idiot trusted his companion and me, I doubt he would’ve died. He was better than you with his fire back then. Not as you are now, but when we were in the tomb, I mean.”
“Did anyone else out of your seven to wield you have something like that? Any special moves that certainly did not come from being a Reaver?”
The sword wand hummed in thought, and she said, “I know! The brash girl I talked to you about before. The one with the turtle? Do you remember her?”
“You did speak about her once, but no, I can’t remember someone I’ve never seen.”
“Blah, you know what I mean. She would draw this red vitality from her body, and it would strengthen her attacks. I’ve never seen another Reaver do it since! Is that what you mean?”
“It does, thanks Xera.”
Out of seven previous wielders, two knew a technique. That’s no longer a coincidence. Either trials help people bring out a technique, or extreme circumstances over an extended period do. If it’s trials, what stops people from entering one? Can’t be level cap, are trial doors rare? Are none of them public?
Luke abruptly stood, attempting to get his mind off the issue. He spotted an open walkway leading to the hunter’s branch. Veyri would be there within the hour if she weren’t there already. He took the opportunity to finally get an idea of what the layout was like.
Leaving the main hall, Luke first spotted the kitchen attached to a mess hall. While there were hunters eating in the main hall with portraits he came from, a vastly higher number were here. Luke noticed the food was not free, although it was far cheaper than what you could eat outside the guild if the street vendors were any indication. There were servers at the buffet but no attendants in the mess hall. It appeared hunters needed to clean up after themselves before leaving.
Yards away from where he stood peering into the kitchens, a grandiose set of brown wooden doors swung open, and groups of hunters funneled out. The doors appeared normal until Luke concentrated on his vision and saw mana weaving into them. Luke navigated by the flowing traffic of hunters. He passed by the doors and earned a better view of the interior. The color theme here was green, white, and blue. A trophy wall in the far back had the heads of defeated creatures and beasts proudly displayed. Luke wondered how they managed to preserve them.
Finding himself a corner chair, Luke noticed one-quarter of the room appeared close to the front area one would see at a bank. Hunters traded in materials, bounties, and turned in pieces of parchment, which Luke figured out were finished requests, and either deposited them or were given varying copper, silver, and gold. On the same side, past roughly five such booths to process goods, were about fifteen rooms closed shut.
On the opposite side, five receptionists were busy administrating throngs of hunters and clients. Luke noticed most of their expressions hung with an air of unease. Which, considering the decree minutes ago, came as no surprise. Hunters were riled up, and the various people filling in to post a request were pushing themselves to get past the paperwork. A cramped lounge area had every seat full of hunter parties planning their next move.
This branch had no portals, but Luke saw another stairway leading to a tower. With the exception of the color theme, the layout looked the same to him. He tapped Sooty on her beak, “Want to go take a peek at the rest of this place?”
Sooty dutifully rattled in agreement. With nothing better to do until Veyri showed up, Luke moved over from the chair in the corner. By the time he glanced back, another hunter had taken it.
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
This place is packed. No servants or maids around either. Is that a low-level hunter I see doing all the cleaning around here? Those at the bottom always get the dirty work.
Meandering into the spiral tower, the walls were patterned differently, with plain white brink and blue crystal mixed in. The stairs themselves were several times wider. Luke went up and found that there were three platforms. Each was full of instructors teaching a class, usually to hunters in tier zero or one. He went the opposite way, now descending, and found the first platform to be a beast repository. Taking a quick gander, there was a small collection of information on the beasts, creatures, demons, you name it, around Sylen, including the three dungeons. Another section included well-known ore deposits, herbal areas, and other materials of interest in the wild and the local dungeons.
Information on the tower was locked, though. Luke knew because he tried to find some, and found the Interface Platform refused to reveal anything.
Another time. He thought.
The Reaver continued to explore, too close to the meet-up time with Veyri, but he’d rather learn the land than face recruitment efforts. He went down to another platform filled with hunter groups hunched over strategy tables. Most were labeled; Luke read the ones he could see from the entrance.
‘Orlan’s Beast Divide’
‘The Ruined Realm’
‘Crystal Demon Point’
A place to stimulate going to those three dungeons, maybe? A good area to have and know about.
Luke went further down and found a final platform. Three instructors waited around, bored. When Luke sheepishly entered, the three stared at him. One, a monic woman who looked tired from the time of day, said, “Come back in a few hours, newbie, the test to join the hunters’ guild hasn’t started for the day yet.”
“There’s a test to join?” Luke asked.
A tora man next to the monic woman gwaffed, “We are not cruel enough to let people in with no aptitude or ability in this line of work. A minimum standard must be established, or those who become hunters will run to their deaths.”
“Must not be a very high standard,” Luke commented, remembering his earlier ruminations.
What seemed to be a regular course ran around the area on this platform. From the looks of it, it tested basic physical ability, and a few orbs were in the middle of the room. Here to sate his curiosity, Luke asked about the place, ignoring the annoyed grimace that the last instructor, an elf man, wore. “How do you go about testing people? What’s the orb for?”
While the elf man couldn’t be asked to say anything, the tora man and monic woman were friendly enough. The tora said, “These plain obstacles should be achievable by anyone who has reached level five.” He pointed to the orbs with his index finger, the sharp black fingernail shone in the low light generated in the room, “These test your baseline aptitude. Which element you’re best aligned with, and what possible professions you may be talented in. The third orb ensures that you are in a healthy enough condition to take the test without disastrously harming yourself.”
Luke walked around like he owned the place, not intentionally, but simply because he found it all quaint and novel.
The elf instructor spoke, “And who exactly are you? If you could leave so we may enjoy our break before proctoring the next acceptance exam?”
The Reaver tapped his feet in thought, “What is that floating crystal for in the far back?”
Behind the instructors was a levitating black crystal at the tail end of the obstacle course. Luke could sense the mana and essence around, rotating to settle inside it.
Showing a prideful stance, the monic woman bragged, “That is our final test. It automatically reveals a challenging beast at level five, calibrated for the class of the tested. A healer could face a beast that requires immediate healing, or a tank could face a creature that poorly responds to threat.”
Clapping once, Luke said, “Definitely makes things convenient. And what do you do to foster techniques?”
Confusion flashed on the three proctors’ faces. One said, “Excuse me? Techniques? That sort of concept is too high level for initiates. We’re here to bring people to the minimum bar, not make all of them fail.”
Coming up to an orb, Luke stared at it before locking eyes with the tora instructor, who he pegged as the friendliest, “Could I test my affinity with this thing?”
The elf scoffed, “The bumpkins always find their way down here, don’t they?”
Rather than the tora, the tired-looking monic woman defended Luke, “People must start from somewhere, Amethius.” She looked at Luke apologetically, “He’s been displeased with the recruits lately.”
“That makes two of us. I wondered in the main hall why even ascended hunters fought like wet noodles. Why do none of them know a technique?”
Fighting a puzzled expression, the tora man with black fur said, “Even we, level twenty-five hunters with over a decade of experience, only understand a technique at the apprentice level. The ascended who are young won’t know a single one on average. From my more successful compatriots, they only started on elementalization at tier 2.”
Is my experience that unusual? Elementalization started for around, what, level nineteen? And that was when it was noticeable. Who knows when I started at novice? Maybe the moment I cast my first Essence Lance?
Rather than grill these instructors, Luke put a hand on the orb to test elemental affinity. The sudden movement switched the air in the room, and two of the instructors took an interest in the coming result. The elf shut his eyes in disdain.
The smooth orb remained dormant until Luke heard an audible ‘click’, and suddenly the orb blasted out a bright white-blue ice color with small streaks of black.
Clapping her hands excitedly, the monic woman explained the result to Luke, “You’ve got a derivative element of water as your main affinity. Ice, how unusual to see, and your secondary affinity is shadow, also called darkness.”
Unaware of the second reveal, Luke asked, “Secondary affinity? You can have more than one? Is a derivative element rare?”
Nodding slowly, the monic woman said, “All people have at least two elements capable of eventually integrating with elementalization, widely considered the easiest technique to start with.”
Butting in, the tora said, “Don’t forget Ania, it’s one of the hardest to master. Most who start to understand are stuck at novice or apprentice for a reason.”
Ania, the monic woman, stamped her foot down once, “No being a spoilsport.” She returned her gaze to Luke, “Derivative elements are seen in every fifth person. The main ones, such as water, can be found everywhere. To see you have one derivative affinity is interesting. Focus on your primary. For now, only the most dedicated to elementalization need to worry about their secondary element.”
Luke commented absentmindedly, “The next step after completely understanding ice would be to add in shadow from what you're telling me. That clears up what to do once I can’t push ice any further. Thanks.”
The elf man sneered, “From the sounds of it, greenhorn, you already know elementalization quite well.”
“Why is he being an ass hat? Isn’t it his job to help people join this guild?”
Both instructors laughed out loud at Luke’s nonchalance, and the elf nearly had steam blowing from his ears.
Raising both arms in deference, Luke said, “Not sure if it’s your day to play bad cop, but it’s a wasted effort on me. Here, let me show you. Or you know what, let her show you. Sooty, mind jumping around in their shadows?”
Sooty groggily cooed. She had attempted to take a nap during Luke’s exploration. She steadily rose and disappeared, wisps of shadow the only remaining trace. She reappeared, pecking the elf in the ankle, before jumping to another shadow and repeating the feat to the tora instructor and the monic woman. Done with her display, she came up behind Luke, landed on his right shoulder, and sat down.
Gawking, the elf said, “Your companion is at the third level with elementalization. Who are you?”
Scratching behind his head, now aware he had overstayed his welcome, Luke replied, “A spell sword.”
Behind him, a haughty voice spoke, “Some spell sword you are, Luke Wallace. Do you make all the women in your life wait on you? What are you doing down here? I’ve been looking all over the branch for you.”
The three instructors whispered to each other. Fruitlessly trying to conceal their mouths with a hand or two while leaning into each other’s ears.
“Did she say Luke Wallace?”
“Isn’t that the name on the notice sent out recently? The newest Defier?”
Amethis gulped, “That is the name on the parchment, yes.”
“Doesn’t that mean?” The monic woman began.
“It does.” The tora man answered.
Luke filtered out any further words from them, awkwardly smiling at Veyri as he said, “Did I make you wait too long?”
“Completely, I’ve been in this branch for the past two hours. When you invite a girl out, you’re supposed to show up before she does.”
“Never saw you when I first entered the hunter branch, where were you?”
“Where else, Luke Wallace? In one of the meeting rooms on the right side you could see from coming in. Beside the repository workers.”
“You mean the bank teller looking people?”
Veyri approached Luke, grasped his shoulder, and dragged him out of the platform, “We’ll need to fix that tardiness habit later. This part of the dump is of no use to you. I’ll take you to where we can avoid prying eyes.”