“Ok, begin… How?” I ask the [Archmage]. “You mentioned training like a Vanedeni and… stuff?”
Magister Mulligan nods.
“Young Luciani,” he says, “who’s the biggest adversary we all have to face?”
His words carry the same solemnity you would expect from a bishop.
However, with the [Mindful Clarity] thing turned on and part of my capabilities from when I was a child back, I cannot help but sigh.
“This is some crap about ‘we are our biggest enemy,’ isn’t it?”
…
Magister Mulligan snapped his fingers and brought us to a different dimension. Yeah, you heard me. A different dimension – like the fact that the Elves who speak English, have Ancient Roman names, and are clean isn’t weird enough.
To be precise, we are outside what looks like a royal palace, with huge colonnades forming a circular ring around us. It is similar to the colonnade of St. Peter’s Square in Vatican City. The floor is stone too. Very sturdy but slightly rugged.
The colonnade opens into a massive series of steps that lead to a Neoclassical-looking palace with a bunch of sculptures, decorations, and more.
“Alright,” I say when I finish looking around.
Magister Mulligan kept silent, probably enjoying seeing me be disoriented in front of this spectacle.
“Are we going to pray there or…?” I point at the palace.
“You are not entering the palace, young Luciani. You are not worthy.”
“Ok?” I raise an eyebrow. “So, I’m going to spend thirteen days here? Like, am I sleeping here too, or are we going back and forth from my room?”
“Sleep?” Magister Mulligan snorts. “You are a funny one.”
“Huh? Sorry? Oh, by the way, isn’t someone going to notice that you have a dimension open in my room? Like, how does that work?”
“I will burn my beard off with Dragon fire if someone does,” the old man laughs. “It is more likely that the sky will fall than that a pathetic Elf will notice this. Not even my descendants could discern my presence, Joey Luciani. A few could have done so, but they should all be dead by now—apart from the damned Dragon who stole the Omnium Compendium.”
“Huh,” I shrug. “Well, what now?”
“This will be your training ground, young Luciani. What this entails will soon be clear. The Vanedeni used to face their own selves here thanks to the creations of the same [Hero] who built our flying vessels and the Bricollae—what you naively call ‘bags of holding.’ To be more precise, this specific test would be administered solely to the Vanedeni who demonstrated superior skills since it would have otherwise killed most of our population.”
This must be the tenth time he mentions that the test will kill me, either explicitly or not.
“What you will soon understand, young Luciani,” Magister Mulligan shakes his head, probably after reading my thoughts, “is that this might not only kill you but also prove that which you are most afraid of—that you are special.”
“Ok, ok,” I say, raising my hands. “Can you explain to me how this sleepless training will work then?”
I’m genuinely curious to see how any of this will unfold, but Magister Mulligan seems to hesitate for a second. He stares at me with narrow eyes before muttering something inaudible and nodding to himself.
“Training against oneself means facing that which you should be. You will face an enchanted Puppet that will replicate what I deem your potential as a level 20 [Champion].”
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
“Wait, what? Level what?!”
“Level 20. Class, [Champion], Joey Luciani. That is what a Vanedeni would have faced,” the man says, pulling his beard a little.
“Level 20? Wait, how strong is the [Champion] class?!”
“Among the fighting classes, the [Champion] would be the intersection between a [Duelist] and a [Warrior]. Unlike what many people wrote of the Vanedeni, most had variations of a [Champion] class, not [Soldier] or [Warrior]. Tactics were always centered around small groups of individuals and units capable of outmaneuvering their enemies.”
I am getting extremely confused here.
“Sorry, Magister Mulligan, can we stay on topic? You have a tendency to—” I feel some electricity dancing on my skin. “Well, just… to talk a lot. And I bet your knowledge is really vast. But we are on a deadline here. By the ‘dead’ in ‘deadline,’ I mean that either this Puppet that I haven’t seen yet, or Appius, might put a sword through my head. So, can we move it along, please?”
“I will bestow more of my knowledge onto you after you beg for respite,” Magister Mulligan says, clearly slightly miffed. “The puppet, then.”
A faceless creature of metal suddenly appeared in front of us.
“What the—”
“This is something I had commissioned for the day someone would finally pass the first stage of training of the Omnium Compendium—as it stands, I might have clearly underestimated the difficulty of such a task.”
“Wait,” I suddenly remember something. “Am I still going to be zapped to death if I don’t complete the Cantrips?”
“Yes.”
“What about this training, though?! You just implied that this should have come after. Two weeks of physical training and no Cantrips? What if I get stuck at some point?!”
“All is within your grasp, Joey Luciani. Quit whining now. It is unbecoming of my disciples. I could magically enforce the contract and have you quit myself, otherwise.”
“Great,” I growled. “Yeah. Ok. Let’s continue.”
Magister Mulligan walks toward the Puppet, and lines of pure mana start to appear in the air.
“Pretty,” I mutter to myself, swiftly interrupted by the man.
“It will take at least half an hour to turn this on. It is a construct made by the greatest [Artificer] and [Golemancer] of my time. A Master Golem that cost me a fortune. And since I can sense your curiosity—”
“What curiosity?!”
ZAP!
“—and since I can sense your curiosity,” Magister Mulligan continues, “let me briefly explain the difference between Golems. Primitive-Class Golems can be found in nature by the dozen. They are simple elemental constructs that can be bound to fulfill a trivial task. They can’t even fetch water, though. Servant-Class Golems have moderate autonomy and power and can sweep your floors and wash your clothes. The Guardian-Class can make basic decisions based on their set protocols but not override or create new commands. These three are the Inferior Classes of Golems. The superior ones are Warrior Golems, the most powerful that are not yet autonomous or fully sentient. They can follow complex strategies, but they are still bound to orders.”
Magister Mulligan then points at this golem.
“This one is a Master Golem made of the purest Mercurite alloy you can find—yes, it bears some similarities to what you know as Mercury. A similar etymology is curious and warrants further discussion, but let it be said that this is the most versatile alloy out there. In fact, it is a requirement if you want to forge a Master-Class Puppet—or a Golem. Terminology differs based on [Golemancer] and [Artificers] because… well, because they are children with shiny toys hung up on names and classifications. The most important thing you should know is that a Master-Class Golem is sentient, can think and learn, and make decisions on its own. The only thing outside the scope of a Master-Class Golem is leveling. That is something exclusive to Grandmaster-Class Golems.”
The only reason I don’t point out the umpteenth tangent of this man is that I’m still spasming from the electricity that coursed through my body not more than a few moments ago.
“You’ll have to counter-level against the Puppet. The Puppet will slowly get stronger at the end of every hour. The final version of it will be as strong as you would be at level 20, with a [Champion] class and the derivative skills. The Puppet can mimic those skills—before you ask. It’s going to be an array of skills of [Champions]. It cannot copy everything, but it will copy most of what you’ll be capable of. To win, you’ll need to become stronger at a much faster rate than the Puppet. The Vanedeni usually get a month, but… well, you might need to lose some sleep.”
Reality slowly settles in.
“Wait. Wait a second. I am not super clear on what it means to level up that much, but I’m level four in the [Mage] class for Christ’s Sake!”
I feel a small panic attack rising in my chest, but before I can start hyperventilating, Magister Mulligan smiles at me.
“I didn’t say you need to reach level 20, Joey Luciani. I said you need to become stronger than your current projection as a level 20 [Champion]. Your [Lightbolt] spell, even though you have yet to try it out, is stronger than a level 20 [Forcebolt] of any [Mage]. This means that if you had a little more formal training in magical duels, you could take on a level 20 [Mage Duelist]. Well, that is conditional on the weird ideas you have been formulating for the shield.”
“Why didn’t I level up more then?”
“You will find your answer, Joey Luciani. For now, we shall focus on how you’ll be fighting the Puppet to become stronger.”
I stare at the old man.
“Whatever,” I sigh. “Keep talking.”