Thorian's eyes sparkled with triumph as he surveyed the barrage of notifications on his display panel. A wide grin unfurled across his face, the thrill of achievement palpable in the air. At last, I’ve reached the pinnacle of my first advancement. Just a bit more mastery over Earth Spikes and Water Prison, and I'll be ready to ascend my class.
Curiosity piqued, Thorian hadn't perused his stats in ages. It was time to delve into his full status panel.
Display Panel
Ding
Race Elemental Lord Kobold Level 16/45 (EXP: 86098/90000) Class Elemental Magus Level 40/40 (EXP: MAX) Lifespan 70 years Cultivation Realm Qi Gathering Sixth Stage (65.3%) Stats Strength 163 Agility 177 Constitution 154 Mana 177 Qi 150 Free Points 60
A chuckle escaped him, laced with disbelief. This is preposterous, he mused, eyes dancing with mirth. At this rate, Nalia's god-like prowess might just be within my grasp in a mere two or three months.
But the bubble of whimsy burst as quickly as it formed. Reality cast its unyielding gaze upon Thorian, reminding him that time was a luxury he didn't possess, and the exponential growth he enjoyed at these initial levels wouldn't last forever. It was a fleeting fantasy, one that danced through his heart before he firmly shook his head, dispelling the idle daydreams.
Turning his attention to the group, Thorian focused on the individual he deemed most crucial. "Vigil," he inquired, his tone laced with earnest curiosity, "what level has your class attained?"
Vigil responded promptly, a hint of pride in his voice. "I am at level 39, my lord. However, I am already halfway through. I merely require 35,000 more experience points to reach the zenith of my level, prior to advancing."
Thorian nodded, a sense of satisfaction washing over him. He followed up with another question, his voice tinged with curiosity, “Vigil, what’s the average haul of experience points from our dungeon ventures?”
Vigil paused, mentally tallying and calculating, before responding with certainty, “Taking all factors into account, it averages around 40,000 experience points.”
A laugh, light and relieved, bubbled up from Thorian. “Splendid, absolutely splendid! Then, on the morrow, we shall undertake the task of healing Nox.”
Forlune, his eyes ablaze with an eagerness that was hard to miss, interjected amidst the collective gasps of Aqua and Zogarth, “Does this mean we’re gearing up for the Eärendil dungeon?” His laughter rang out, filled with a fierce anticipation. “I’ve been patiently waiting for this moment.”
Aqua, ever the thinker, chimed in, his words laced with deep contemplation. “My king, do you possess any insight regarding that dungeon which could aid us?”
Thorian, his gaze drifting upwards in thought, replied, “I have bits and pieces of knowledge. However, I do know of someone immensely knowledgeable about it.”
His response, shrouded in mystery, silenced any further inquiries. The group understood the unspoken rule; if Thorian chose not to divulge information, there was a valid reason behind it. They refrained from pressing for more details.
Before deciding to exit the abyss, Thorian turned to Aqua. "I need you to use your direwolf to ascertain Nalia's current location. And if Elder Oom is nearby, inquire about the situation with Alacritas and his team."
"I shall do so," Aqua agreed, then initiated his telepathic communication. After a brief pause, he reported back, "Nalia has concluded her dungeon expedition and is now exiting the forest. Regarding Alacritas, Elder Oom detected signs of brainwashing but managed to cleanse it with his abilities. He's currently resting to recuperate from the poison's effects."
“Good, that settles the matters on that front then,” Thorian nodded, before he wrapped up the discussion. “Our business here is concluded. Let us proceed, for we still have tasks awaiting us.”
Forlune, a hint of confusion in his voice, questioned, “We do?”
Thorian’s smile was light, yet held a hint of deeper meaning. “Indeed,” he confirmed. “Our next endeavor is to locate the final Altar.”
Thorian, with a resolute flick of his hand, dismissed the notification request, choosing to depart the abyss. In a swift blur of motion, his group was whisked back to the entrance of the abyss. As they emerged, their eyes took a moment to acclimate to the dim lighting of the room. They were the first to return, with only Hayden, their guide, present.
Hayden, wide-eyed and visibly shaken, could barely muster his words as he gazed at Thorian’s party, his eyes lingering particularly on Aqua, Zogarth, and Vigil. “Wha… What happened?” he stammered.
Thorian approached Hayden, a slight smirk playing on his lips as he patted the guide’s trembling shoulder. “Well, you don’t need to know, do you?”
Hayden, overwhelmed, could only gulp and nod in agreement, words failing him.
“Good,” Thorian said, his smile widening. He then found a spot to sit, his party members gathering around him in a secluded corner of the room. They settled in, waiting patiently for the others to complete their journey.
After ten minutes, the entrance flared to life, heralding the arrival of another group. Harald's direwolf pack emerged, their evolution evident. Their fur showcased a spectrum of vibrant hues – fiery red, serene blue, robust brown, and wild green.
Thorian, bursting into hearty laughter, stood to welcome his comrade. “Seems like your journey was just as bountiful,” he commented jovially.
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“You too,” Harald replied with a chuckle, his eyes scanning the evolved states of Thorian's companions. Turning to Thorian, he asked with a hint of curiosity, “So, to what depths did you venture?”
Thorian shrugged nonchalantly, “We reached the fifteenth floor. And your expedition?”
Harald's eyebrow arched in mild surprise. “That is intriguing. We made it to the seventeenth. I was half-expecting you to have surged past the twentieth.”
Thorian laughed lightly, his eyes twinkling with mirth. “Rushing beyond wouldn’t have been the most prudent move, given our unique situation. Nonetheless, reaching the seventeenth is commendable. You've all harnessed this opportunity to grow significantly in strength.”
Harald's laughter resonated heartily through the room. "I can't deny it," he beamed. "Having ascended to level 21, my stats have soared. I feel invincible, as if I could conquer any foe I encounter."
Thorian, visibly impressed, nodded in acknowledgment. His curiosity piqued, he swiftly accessed his partner's status window to gauge the extent of his growth.
Display Harald Panel
Race Storm Alpha Direwolf Level 21/50 (EXP: 12759/117500) Lifespan 70 years Stats Strength 175 Agility 224 Constitution 163 Mana 76
After examining the statistics, Thorian let out a chuckle, both amazed and amused. "Your progress is phenomenal. The sheer magnitude of your strength and, particularly, your agility is simply astonishing."
Harald, also perusing a similar invisible display, nodded in agreement. "Your own stats are quite remarkable too. With the right focus, you could rival my speed."
Thorian's response came with a lighthearted chuckle, "A decision for another time, perhaps."
As the two shared insights about their advancements, another group emerged from the entrance. Ventus, now boasting a vibrant fur of yellow and blue, indicative of his evolution, approached them. "Seems you've already made it out. We thought we were fast."
Ifrit, her form now an embodiment of her magma power with a blend of brown and red fur, retorted with a hint of frustration. "Fast? Hardly. We were stuck on that twelfth floor for so damn long. Just who in the hell designed that? I want to be fighting monsters, not clearing stupid puzzles"
Forlune, lounging casually, looked around as the last of the groups emerged from the abyss. He chuckled, breaking the ongoing chatter. “Seems everyone's accounted for. King, should we stay here for more discussions, or shall we postpone our conversations until we're back in the village?”
Thorian, secretly grateful for Forlune's timely intervention, responded with a light chuckle of his own. “It seems the general has made a decree. Let's follow his lead.”
With Hayden guiding them, the group navigated their way out of the subterranean labyrinth and emerged on the western fringes of Locksley. The dual suns that had bathed the land in warmth upon their entry had now given way to the tranquil silver glow of the moon.
Forlune, his brow creased in slight bewilderment, noted, “It’s already night. Our time in the abyss didn't feel that lengthy.”
Vigil, ever lighthearted, added with a chuckle, “Time indeed has a way of slipping by when you're immersed in adventure.”
Thorian simply shrugged, his thoughts kept to himself. Time does seem to hasten its pace within the abyss, albeit not drastically enough to warrant a mention.
With these reflections, Thorian led his group away from the city and into the encompassing woodlands. Their destination was Wolvendale, but Thorian had decided to first lay claim to the third territory altar, having prior knowledge of its whereabouts.
Thus, he directed his party northward from Locksley, trekking over five kilometers through the wilderness. Their target was a clearing situated to the left of an iron mine, serving as a landmark. Guarding the altar were creatures Thorian knew all too well: the Thri-kreens, once truly formidable foes.
Forlune's voice carried a touch of nostalgia mixed with a dash of humor. “Ah, the Thri-kreens, our old adversaries,” he remarked, his gaze sweeping back to his comrades with a wry grin. “Pity Caedar isn’t here to exact his vengeance.”
Thorian’s thoughts drifted to Caedar, who had suffered a serious injury at the claws of these very creatures just a week prior. Time seems to warp, he reflected silently. So much has transpired, our growth has been nothing short of remarkable.
Shaking off his reverie, Thorian issued a crisp command, “Let’s dispatch these creatures swiftly and secure this area. We can’t afford any distractions while claiming the Altar.”
Forlune, with a confident smile, responded, “As you command, my king.” He turned towards the direction where Caedar might have been. “In the absence of my once direct subordinate, I’ll lead the charge in his stead.”
Thorian gave a nonchalant shrug. “Proceed as you see fit.”
Forlune wasted no time. With the agility of a shadow, he vanished from his spot, reappearing at the heart of the clearing. His sudden intrusion drew the immediate attention of all the Thri-kreens in the vicinity.
The creatures let out a chilling, ear-piercing shriek, their scythe-like arms poised menacingly, mandibles clacking with deadly intent as they converged on Forlune, each intent on tearing him to shreds.
To an ordinary observer, the Thri-kreens' movements were a blur of deadly speed and ferocity. But to Forlune, trained and battle-hardened, they seemed almost languid. As they launched themselves towards him, Forlune drew his sword with a swift, fluid motion, his body moving with the power and speed of a lightning bolt.
Every swift slash of Forlune's blade was a death sentence for the monstrous Thri-kreens. In a dizzying display of martial prowess, he felled twenty beasts in mere moments, their bodies not even gracing the ground before he moved on. The remaining creatures stood frozen, their primitive minds unable to comprehend the whirlwind of destruction before them. Forlune, relentless, darted across the clearing, his sword a deadly dance of steel, leaving a wake of devastation.
In under a minute, an eerie silence settled over the battlefield. The clearing was now a grim tableau, littered with the lifeless forms of nearly a hundred mantis-like creatures.
Forlune, seemingly unimpressed by his own feat, yawned, “Well, that was uneventful,” as Thorian and the rest of the group approached.
“Excellent work,” Thorian commended, his eyes then shifting to the Altar. “Now, let’s claim our prize.”
He strode confidently towards the demonic visage of the Altar. The guardians lay vanquished; nothing stood in their way now.
But suddenly, Thorian paused, a sense of unease washing over him. Hold on, he thought, there was no boss amongst the fallen. That’s not right.
Sensing potential danger, Thorian turned to his party, his voice edged with caution. “Stay alert. If the situation shifts, follow my commands without hesitation.”
Zogarth, confusion etching his features, inquired, “Is there trouble, my lord?”
“It’s just a precaution,” Thorian replied, his tone a mix of reassurance and concern.
Resuming his approach, Thorian reached the Territory Altar and placed his hand upon it. The world around them seemed to fracture, akin to glass shattering, followed by the customary cascade of red notifications. Thorian breezed through them, his focus elsewhere, mindful of the anomaly he'd sensed.
[As you are already a lord of a territory, you must appoint a vassal before the territory system can be fully activated. Once you choose your vassal, they will become the effective lord of this territory. Their access rights will be second only to yours.]
Thorian exhaled a breath tinged with relief as the final notification confirmed the successful claim of the altar. But his moment of ease was abruptly interrupted by an unexpected surge of energy materializing beside him. Reacting with the swiftness honed by countless battles, he leaped back to regroup with his allies, bracing for whatever challenge this new development might bring.
As the energy whirl settled, it revealed its contents - a creature unmistakably a Thri-kreen, yet distinctively different from those Forlune had dispatched. Its green skin was similar, but it bore streaks not of brown, but of a vivid, ominous purple.
Is this… a Psion?