It had been nearly a week since we descended into the forest outside of the mountain range. Besides the trees growing larger and a dense feeling in the air, nothing was really changing day-to-day. Without anything really happening, I was starting to have trouble distinguishing the days from one another.
Diving into training and self-reflection certainly beats improving my friendships with the others.
I only had a single real conversation after Arnold had approached me, consisting of a guard offering to spar. My stifled laugh right in his face and clumsy explanation afterward quickly soured relations with that group. I wanted to explain how I wasn’t insulting his chosen profession and it was just a surprise because of combat disparity. But I knew it would come off as in-genuine as it felt, so I elected to keep my mouth shut.
Borris had been pretty nice whenever we passed by, though. I bet the merchant in him made all the nods and smiles second nature. Still, better than seeing him so stressed as he had been during the first few days.
That first afternoon off must really have relieved some tension from the man, as we had been not pushing our days as long as before. We never stopped as close to midday as that stop, but it did give me a larger window to train and hunt. And sleep. Our pace had not slowed and gods know I still need the time to recuperate.
An errant thought flitted through my head, questioning why there was an initial rush and irrational worrying in the first place. A small voice from a dark corner of my mind brought up the Skill Crystal, and I quickly smothered it before it could get rolling again.
It was hard not to think about something so fascinating and peculiar, sitting right under my nose. However, I knew getting any more involved could lead to some serious trouble and I would stick by my decision to avoid it as an oblivious bystander.
It’s not like satisfying my curiosity would put me in a position to avert whatever had Borris so worried. No, that would only get me hurt if he couldn’t handle the problem. Or by Borris himself, if whatever duty he had to it overcame what appeared to be a truly friendly nature.
So beyond the occasional stray thought, all this did was give me another excuse for why I shouldn’t engage with the others. Skipping the animated campfire revelries gave me more time to train. If all went well, I wouldn’t see any of these people again after we made it to Ironwood, anyways, so what's the big deal about not caring about the relationship in the meantime?
I got lost in a memory for a moment since I used almost identical reasoning during my last few months with my parents. Strange how the same logic held with even with the more complicated emotions than I had towards this group of strangers.
Rarely had my own self-thoughts turned so depressing, though. For the most part, I was so deep into my activities that I hardly noticed changes around me.
I went hunting two other afternoons, staking out game trails and setting traps before a traditional hunt. Having less luck finding (and hitting) animals than the first day didn’t mean I wasn't bringing back plenty of game. As we got deeper into the forest my traps started hitting more and with more time I was able to catch bigger prey than before.
That really meant two nights with significant amounts of sacrificed sleep to preserve my findings and a bag that was stuffed to the brim with food. It could probably last me a month of travel, even considering how hungry I was after long days of running. The mana-enhanced monster meat was filling enough to make up for that and beyond.
Remember, technically the hare, grouse, and other prey I came across were monsters since the forest was pretty mana dense. But, not being much stronger than the relatively unsaturated animals around High Valley made it hard to consider them anything else. Their more dense muscles meant tastier meals and harder targets. It did not turn them into snow panthers or forest trolls to be taken as a serious threat.
The density certainly increased the weight on my back, but compared to the pace it was really not an issue. Even with my shoddy job at preserving it, the salted and dried meat would last well past the time we made it to Ironwood.
Despite the desire to continue putting off interactions with the others, I decided to start offering some of my food to the group the next few nights, if only to practice being more friendly.
With all those kills, I’d gained a decent amount of Experience as well. I never got as much Experience as the 300 point grouse, but hunting larger game put me up around the hare. All in all, I had gained about a thousand points in the last week. While I didn’t hunt for so much meat at once in High Valley, there definitely seemed to be a noticeable benefit to working somewhere unfamiliar.
My new Level progress was kept bringing me closer to 19, which in turn seemed so close to 20. I was nervous and excited thinking about those implications for my future.
Level: 18 (9,971/19,000)
Despite feeling like I was almost at an awarded Dexterity, even from the day I start training it seriously, nothing had been forthcoming. With Constitution not likely to improve until my body adjusts to its new baseline, most of my interest was shifted away from that.
My Dexterity training in the evenings continued as planned, even expanding to include small footwork and eyesight activities. I even found fidgeting with my knife during our runs worked to some degree.
Without a real structured guide, I had to create exercises that personally resonated with improving the Attribute. Luckily, my wide general knowledge of Attributes and System-style training made applying similar activities not too difficult. Doubt the practice is too terribly efficient, but at least I won’t pick up any bad habits by simply following a cookie-cutter exercise for school children.
The road had stayed generally the same. After turning off the maintained path to Seaside, it became simply packed dirt. There were occasional sections of undergrowth encroaching onto the path, but the shade given by the canopies seemed like a good tradeoff.
As we diverged further west than the more traveled path, tensions seemed to increase. It mostly came from the guards, who had spent more attention each day on the woods around us. There was always one of the guards and an Adventurer scouting the way ahead, but based on Borris’s tone during briefings, it seemed he was certain about a bandit ambush at some point.
Definitely has to do with the Crystal. Not sure if it’s accurate intelligence or paranoia. Absolutely need to stop thinking about this whole drama.
This morning I had officially lost track of the days, being completely unable to tell if we were 10 or 11 days out of High Valley. Being too embarrassed to ask straight up, I thought about how best to bring up travel times when I start to share my extra game tonight.
We usually don’t reserve a stop for lunch, expected to snack rations on the go. Seems easier for everyone else, who still look like they’re on a brisk stroll. Luckily, they aren’t so almighty that they avoid calls to nature, and Borris generously plans a stop or two so we don’t get separated.
Choosing between finding a tree to piss under, stuffing my face with lunch, and collapsing of exhaustion was usually a brutal decision. Today, my overwhelmed bladder made that choice easy.
I was currently jogging alongside the rumbling wagon, counting down until our first rest stop of the day. We didn’t get specific plans for these breaks, but I had somehow convinced myself that predicting when we would stop would make it come faster. My knife had long since returned to its small sheath as my attention was utterly consumed with finding a place to relieve myself.
Around the group, the forest seemed significantly more daunting than usual. The trees had truly transformed from basic mountain pines to behemoths of massive proportions over our journey. The transition was really gradual, almost unnoticeable, but the slightly gloomy atmosphere brought us enough reflection to fully acknowledge the change.
The leafy branches left the true heights to be left in speculation, but I’d imagine it would take three or four fighters with outstretched arms to wrap around one of these trunks. I imagined the gloom to come from grey skies of some sort, mostly worried that rain would accelerate my deteriorating bladder control.
I glanced back at Borris, who was hanging at the back of the group with the Adventurers. He was astride his horse, which appeared to be casually trotting along with the group of briskly walking fighters. It would never cease to amaze me how they managed to make moving so fast look so effortless. Even the horse did it!
I hadn’t seen the scouting duo since they left this morning, per usual, but that meant we were down a member from each squad. The five guards traveling with us surrounded the wagon, with two on each side and one behind, closer to Borris. With the wagon between me and the coachman, I couldn’t get a read on his features to see if he was also in need of a rest stop soon. As everyone else in sight seemed content to run past my breaking point, I started thinking about increasing pace and implying that he motion for a stop.
My mundane thoughts were interrupted with an ear-shattering sound. Bandits, was my first thought, as had been drilled into me. But I couldn’t imagine any people commanding this much power.
I flinched from the noise as my ears started ringing and staggered back. Then, there was an explosion of light and a wave of heat.
It was as intense as placing a hand before the smithy forge I once attended but scorching my whole body at once. Climbing to my feet, I looked at the scene ahead of me in shock.
The wagon’s shattered remains were aflame. The horses and coachman were not much more than ashes. The frontmost guards were on the ground heavily burned.
Before I could wonder what could have caused this, a rustling in the canopy transformed into a large winged shape plummeting to the ground.
It was a dragon.
A hundred strides down the road ahead of the burning wagon, a ferocious monster now barred our path. It was huge, with its body easily twice the size of the cart that is so readily destroyed. It tucked its enormous wings were atop his dull green scales. They clearly acted as a perfect camouflage method for hiding in the trees above.
Stunned by the sudden appearance of such a powerful monster, I was one of the last living to react. Most of the guards were drawing weapons when they registered what was in front of them. The dragon stood its ground, staring at the group like a curious cat toying with its prey.
With most of the carriage in pieces from the shockwave alone, the supplies chest on the back was all torn open. What caught my eye in particular, was a white pouch that was supposed to carry health potions for emergencies. Considering my only job was to get those to the injured soldiers, I was quite familiar with the red-colored liquid seeping into the fabric. Again, not surprised that the shatter-proof vials were cracked by that blow.
Blown closer to my position, it only took a quick stride to reach the contents. I reached down and grabbed the health kit, sliding the pouch in my pocket in hopes that one of the vials was still sealed.
Before I could even turn back to the Adventurers, the dragon continued its assault on the assembling guards. It used its two legs to pounce towards us and with a casual whip of its tail, the wagon exploded in a shower of sparks. It smashed into the trees on the right side of the road, panicking a guard enough so he turned his back to flee. Immediately choosing the unfortunate man as its next target, it jumped and pounced on the fighter a few strides to my right.
The power behind the attack was so strong, that just the shockwave from the impact lifted me off my feet. I smashed into a tree on the left side of the road, hard enough to hear something crack. Whether that was the trunk, my bow, or my ribs, I wasn’t quite sure.
If not for my absurdly large backpack that held all my worldly possessions, I have no doubt I’d be dead right now. It cushioned my spine enough to save my life, for now at least.
Thankfully, the dragon either thought I was dead or ignored me in favor of more exciting prey, as it did not turn its massive amber eyes on me. I watched in muted horror as it continued stalking toward the others, who had already started backing away down the road. Another guard turned her back towards the monster, hoping to escape to the nearby treeline, and immediately found herself in the dragon's jaws. Yikes.
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I started regaining feeling in my body slower than I would’ve liked, watching as the monster pressed onward. It kept leaping towards the hastily assembled group of fighters, obliterating yet another guard under its clawed feet. They were only really the size of a man’s torso, but the sheer power behind it left the victims as a bloody splotch on the ground.
Realizing that there was a dragon between me and probably the only Classed anywhere nearby was not a good thought, especially since this dragon couldn’t be the only monster in the forest. Still, I needed to get away from it.
Heaving deep breaths, I sat myself up against the tree I’d been thrown into, needing to catch a lungful of air before getting away from this madness. Soon, the only people still alive were Borris, the Adventurers, and the scouting guard, who had returned at some point during the battle. The dulled smushing sounds had become deep thumping, as each slash and stomp of the dragon was avoided or shielded by the experienced Adventurers.
The massive plated Adventurer was deflecting blows and Arnold was right up there avoiding claws by a hair’s breadth. Borris was struggling to keep his horse restrained, trying not to draw attention by suddenly bolting away.
How on Seia this strong of a party was in that little mountain town might stupefy me for the rest of my life. Which would be only for the next few minutes, if I can’t get out of here soon.
That thought gave me another burst of adrenaline. Bracing myself against the tree, I got up on shaky legs. I didn’t want to glance at my status to check my Health. It’s just a representation of my body and I can feel how fucked up I am without assistance fine. Knowing how low it is will do nothing to help me at this point.
The party engaging in the fighting retreat had made it pretty far down the road, nearly out of sight by the first bend. I should have turned tail and ran, anything to get away from the beast, but something delayed me. I needed to know more about this dragon.
Ok, hold on. Something I mentioned briefly before. Anyone experienced enough to interpret the presence of System information could essentially replicate [Identify], without using the Skill. Some call it feeling power or observing an aura, but it basically allows the higher tiers to sense the generalized class and approximate level of others, without being aggressively intrusive like [Identify]. It’s pretty essential, since insulting someone even in Tier 5 could easily mean an abrupt end of your existence.
I mentioned I was working towards that, [Identifying] without ever wasting a slot for the Skill, and that I was proud of it. Not an uncommon practice, even if people who do it never get the extra detailed information, but I’m not going to need it for battling enemies or recognizing precious crafting materials, so no big deal. What you need to know, is that all my training so far has been isolating the information given off by other’s Systems feel like. I had been putting off learning to interpret those feelings and had essentially no experience doing it.
That’s why I was cursing myself for not just accepting [Identify], considering how tempting it was to learn anything about such a majestic flying creature. Instead, I prepared to do the only thing I could think of. Messing with The System. Convincing my interface to display a representation for the data I present shouldn’t be too hard, right?
So I stopped myself from sprinting into the woods to loop around towards the fighters and prepared to learn about the beast. I delicately reached out with my energy, using my line of sight, and started to touch the powerful System of the dragon.
The way I first used it when picturing it was to imagine the System has the form of an onion. Just feeling for the size gives the approximate power of the target. Scraping away the first layer would be like least protected stats, usually the name or race. The next would generally be Profession, then Class, then Level, then Achievements. Everything else is much better protected and harder to decipher like it was the innermost layers of the onion. Those things were specific Skills mostly, but really everything that the System recognizes to make up your self.
I felt a portion of the dragons ‘onion’ and had no experience of anything around that size. Without being able to surround the whole thing, I was essentially estimating how large it was based on the curve, based on instinct. It was so much bigger than anyone’s I’d practiced with before, so I’d need to really think about what this essentially flat sample means for its power.
Resorting to diving into the layers and sampling the first few levels of protection, I considered how deep I should go to see Achievements or at least Level. My mental probe went in... and I immediately felt a backlash slam into my mind.
Incomplete data is unable to be printed. Complete information output below.
A notification popped up, as I had been directly transferring the information to my System, and seeing the text was short-circuiting my brain. The sudden shift of the battle and change in the forest’s atmosphere went completely unnoticed, as I was overwhelmed with panic. What I expected to be many lines of information was reduced to the creature’s species and nothing else.
[Lesser Forest Wyvern]
The monstrous behemoth that was easily decimating guards probably in the 3rd or 4th tier, was not even a true dragon. It was well beyond my expectations of the legendary beasts, but it turns out to be one of its wimpiest cousins. And with a [Lesser] quantifier, at that!
Clearly, I was about to have an existential crisis if I spent longer I thought about how horribly overwhelmed I was in the world. Unfortunately, I had much bigger problems to deal with at the moment.
The wyvern was roaring louder than it had throughout the battle, whipping its head back and forth wildly, probably looking around for whatever hurt it.
Ok, that’s just me being optimistic, I think it's more a roar of anger rather than pain, but either way, it was really mad. At me.
I’m proud that I actually reacted first, for once today. Sprinting without hesitation straight into the woods, feeling its eyes locking onto me. Thankfully the trees were quite close in this part of the woods and it seemed the wyvern was enraged enough to not be moving at full efficiency.
My plan of running around it towards the Adventurers was thrown out immediately. No, I ran directly away from this beast.
There were a number of smaller shrubs and shorter trees between the massive trunked behemoths, but nothing that really tangled me up. I occasionally held my arms out as I ran through a sapling’s branches or got scratched up from spiky foliage, but nothing slowed me down. My goal was to keep putting as many of the large wooden spires between me and any fire that the monster could fling. And its tail. And teeth.
I picked up the pace.
It felt like an eternity before I heard a resounding crash over the angry roaring. It seemed that barreling through the smaller foliage wasn’t enough for my pursuer and it decided to clip one of the big trees to save time.
However big it was, I doubted it could barrel right through the large trees around here. At least, without any Skills or significant damage to itself. That was probably my saving grace.
A practical part of my brain, apparently calming detached during the huge rush of adrenaline, noted how oddly quiet the rest of the forest had become. I mockingly thanked the enormous predator stampeding behind me for scaring away all the other monsters that could kill me. That part of me also thanked the gods the wyvern was too mad to fly above the canopy and ambush me somewhere.
The seconds passed as I continued my flight, then the minutes. Not much changed from the beast behind me, still roaring away and sometimes crashing through trees. It didn’t gain much ground, as it seemed to struggle with changing direction and tight maneuvers without the use of its wings, but it also didn’t seem to be slowing either.
I started to keep my eyes peeled for a cave or rock formation to use as shelter, though I was ruefully still counting on the fact that my pursuer will get bored before it manages to catch me.
Seeing a bit of a gap in the trees ahead, I prepared to break right or left to stay within the trees. I didn’t want to give any additional advantages to the wyvern that could leap across open spaces in a flash.
Before making the turn, I hesitated. Feeling as if there was something significant in the clearing ahead. Maybe it was a feeling of mana resonance, or perhaps it was my experience with magical System designs, or it may have just been a gut instinct that I was lucky to follow. Whatever it was, it kept me going straight into the open.
The clearing wasn’t large. An easy stone’s throw to the other side, something I could cross in a dozen seconds. But the dragon could get by almost immediately, and my lead did not feel like much longer than that.
About a quarter of the way through, I saw a shimmering outline hanging in midair and immediately adjusted my course towards it. It seemed like a tangible heat mirage and exactly like entrances to dungeons I’ve read about. If there was an issue with passing though, I might not make it back into the trees before the monster caught me, but I grew more confident the closer I got to it.
At that moment, the brush crashing behind me stopped and I glanced over my shoulder to see the wyvern in the clearing, tensing and preparing to jump. Another step and I leaped towards the outline, diving headfirst into the unknown.
My vision turned black for a heartbeat, then I crashed onto a hard stone floor. I had made it.
The dissipated light of the forest was replaced by harsh magical torchlight and my body suddenly started screaming in pain at the punishment I put it through. I deliriously watched the shimmering archway to see if a beast would be following, before slowly giving in to the pull of unconsciousness.
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I woke up slowly, mostly confused as to why my pack was still strapped to my back, instead of acting as a makeshift pillow. And why the gentle forest sounds were replaced by a deafening silence. The week or so of hard activity had left my mornings incredibly routine, so it really was a surprise.
I started to move around a bit as I blearily blinked my eyes open to see what was happening, which was clearly a mistake.
The shock from the small stretch sent lances of pain through me, jolting me awake and reminding me why I was lying on a hard tiled floor. Memories of the dragon–no, the wyvern–flooded back, and suddenly I was thankful to be feeling awful, rather than dead.
I had to close my eyes and center myself before I was calm enough to inspect my injuries. When I did, I hoped for a second I was making everything up. Never really training to fight left a serious gap in sparring or battle injuries, but my hobby of climbing up tall things made me no stranger to pain.
Ok, ok, I was not as familiar with it as that makes me sound. Let’s stick with I was a removed acquaintance to pain, instead of a stranger to it.
A passing glance would see me as reasonably fine. Perhaps disheveled and exhausted, but alright. I was never actually hit by the creature and the extent of the blood on my person was some minor abrasions on my face and arms. If any bones were broken, at least they hadn’t punctured the skin.
Lifting my collar to look down my tunic, I could see massive bruises creeping around my sides, already looking gruesome. My back must look terrible, but my body protested at the thought of craning my neck to look.
Breaths weren’t too easy, either, so I wouldn’t be shocked if I had broken a few ribs. My healing factor wasn’t terrible, since I had a significant enough lead in Constitution over Strength, but it still would take a few days for just the bruises to recover.
If I were able to sit still for a week without any issues just to heal, I would probably be at near fighting shape by then. Or escaping shape, since that continues to be my primary objective if fighting is ever an option.
Any serious medical problems with the bone would be more problematic, but broken ribs don’t seem like anything that would heal improperly without professional or magical treatment.
Speaking of, I remembered the vials I grabbed in the first place and my hand darted to the front pocket that I slipped it into. Somehow, among the broken glass and dried crust of the spilled potions, there was a single vial remaining. Whether to take it was still an important question, but if I could rest for a bit to heal instead, it became a real toss-up. Having something like that on hand is always useful.
I remembered entering the spatial disturbance in my panicked flight but didn’t recall notifications afterward, so I was not sure about any details for the dungeon. That is if I received any at all.
If my sparse knowledge was correct, they all start with safe rooms and the longer ones usually include them throughout. Unless the dungeon has specific challenges that safe rest would remove. Or if the bards' tales and stories added them for convenience to the plot. I still had some first-hand sources, but how else was I going to learn about the world while on the Kingdom’s outskirts?
The room I was in had a very monotone feel. A soft white light was diffused throughout the room, not coming from any source in particular. Nice tiled floors of grey and darker grey covered the floor, with stone walls the same shades. As I tried to focus on them further, they seemed to phase out of existence a bit, sorta like it was turning into blurry smoke.
On one wall there was a clean arch protruding from the basic tiles, with what appeared to be the dungeon entrance rippling within it. The other held a dark wooden door, with an almost comically large metal ring as a handle. I assumed that would lead me further into the dungeon, which did not interest me one bit.
Turning back to the entrance, I slowly moved to my feet to see about making my exit. I wanted to peek my head out to see if there was a [Wyvern] waiting for me and about how long I was out for, but I received bad news instead.
You may not exit until the challenges have been completed.
Bracing myself against the wall, I shuffled around the chamber toward the other door. I didn’t want to get too worked up about it before knowing what was ahead of me, so I buried those feeling deep down.
The door was very sturdy wood. Smooth, even though I thought I might get a splinter from just looking at it. I ran my hand across it and grasped the large ring, only to be awarded an absolutely terrible notification.
Once you leave the safe room, the Class Trial will begin and you may not return. Continue?
Learning this room was safe for as long as I wanted simply didn’t register when faced with my situation.
I was trapped in a Class Trial.
A Class Trial meant enormous problems for my life’s planning, considering they are all about granting Classes. A possible boon considering how rare they seem to be, but considering this room did not look very air and cloud aspected, probably not too great for me.
Getting worked up on how seriously this could fuck up all my planning started overpowering what capacity I had left for higher-level thought and I started quickly getting dizzy again.
I used my hand still braced on the door to lower myself gently to the ground. My frenzied thoughts soon began to dull as I was claimed by oblivion. All I hoped was for inspiration out of this mess when I woke up.
Name: Leo of Cold Harbor Level: 18 (9,971/19,000) Age: 20 Class: N/A Attributes: Strength 14 Constitution 18 1 Dexterity 13 Intelligence 16 Wisdom 13 Charisma 11 Free Points 18 Professions: Achievements: [Reminiscent Traveler] Skills: (Slot Open) (Slot Open)