Marc was temporarily blinded by the white light. It chased the darkness before letting the daylight in its place.
He was in a small clearing inside a thick forest. In the middle of the clearing there was a circle of burned grass and some strange symbols. At the center of the circle were a lozenge with some minimalist pictures, a frog, a scorpion, a mushroom and a fruit. Right between those was Marc, completely naked, like he was summoned there out of thin air.
After a small minute spent remembering the last events and observing his surroundings, the second advice of Arnold came back to his mind. But how do I do that? Summoning my status, do I yell it out loud or move my hands? Let’s try to call them.
“Status?!”
Slightly surprised by his hoarse voice, Marc saw popping in front of his eyes the same kind of blue box that before arriving on Jezoi:
Status
Name: Marc Jean Tupor
Race: Human / Champion
Sex: Male
Age: 21 ans
Characteristics
Level
1
Experience
0%
Strength
85
Mental
110
Endurance
85
Abstraction
120
Agility
80
Understanding
130
Perception
80
Sagacity
100
Skills
Skill Trees
Name
Level
Experience
Type
Evolution
Human
Linguistic
1
0%
Passif
Unavailable
Champion
Extradimensional inventory
1
0%
Spécial
Unavailable
Familiar
1
0%
Spécial
Unavailable
Medicine
Heal
1
0%
Actif
Unavailable
Purge
1
0%
Actif
Unavailable
Disease resistance
1
0%
Passif
Unavailable
Poison resistance
1
0%
Passif
Unavailable
Poison
Poison creation
1
0%
Actif
Unavailable
Poison resistance
1
0%
Passif
Unavailable
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Titles
Meintcue’s Champion
That was a lot of information on himself to process. The most surprising for him was the fact that being a champion was considered a race, like being a human.
In his characteristics were some classical things, even for a casual gamer like him and other very surprising, like the abstraction or sagacity characteristics. Did the fact that his characteristics were around the hundred means that it was the human standard or was he strongly buffed by the fact he was a champion? At what speed could they ascend and to what height? Those were some of the questions Marc had in mind looking at that section of his status.
In the part about his Skills, he found they had levels. ‘What could be the difference between a level two Skill and a Skill with a plus sign in his name?’ So many questions and no one to answer them.
Remembering he could summon a familiar he concentrated on the Skill, with some luck he would shortly have some answers. A window popped up as he focused his mind on it.
Lesser familiar summoning:
Thanks to the presence of multiple Skill Trees in the summoner status, multiple options will be displayed.
Follet
Cat
Fairy
Dog
White fairy
Pink slime
Pixie
Bolete
Eight choices were possible for Marc, he thought about the advantages and inconvenients of each of them.
The left column had the names of creatures he had heard of, all were some type of fairy, so they could probably talk. Having a lot of questions to ask he would probably choose one of them. The follet was the one he knew the less about and the pixies were often some kind of prankster, but he had no real idea of how the fairies acted on this world.
The right column had some other type of creatures, the two at the top were simple animals, that couldn’t talk but were obviously the more suitable choice for someone looking for a simple life, as everybody could have a cat or a dog as a pet. The third was a classical monster of rpg games, a slime, but a pink one. Whatever that distinction was, Marc didn’t want a pink slime as a familiar.
The last entry was the most surprising, a bolete. How could a mushroom prove himself useful in any circumstances despite a one of starvation? ‘Can it even move? I’ll be even more ridiculous with that than with a pink slime.’
His mind completely focused on the choice of a familiar and most particularly on the useless mushroom, Marc did not hear the strange sounds coming from the edge of the clearing. He didn’t see either the small pebble that hit him on the side of his head, he only felt the pain and saw his vision blurred before losing consciousness.
The following blue boxes were never seen bay Marc.
Selected familiar: Bolete
Do you confirm that choice?
Yes/No
10 seconds before automatic acceptance.
Lesser familiar summoning completed.
Congratulation, your familiar had been successfully summoned.
It was in a small and cold room that Marc woke up. Around him were only stone walls, one of them had a wooden door on the side and on that door was a little grate with strong steel bars. On the wall on the other side was a small skylight, with its own grille. From there came a small light which allowed Marc to see his one and a half by two meters cell.
There was no bed and not even straw to sleep on and he had nothing to use to release himself, except a third grille on the floor, if he found the courage to use it.
Quickly realizing he was trapped there and couldn’t do anything else than wait for something to happen and improvise from there, he decided to go through his status again. Doing so he remarked that is Familiar Skill was at 12.5% of experience, meanings the tentative summoning he had done wasn’t totally useless. The Skill even seemed to grow fast, there were also a new section after the titles one.
Familiars
Name:
Race:
Level:
Experience:
Kind:
Sexe:
State:
N/A
Bolete
1
3%
Poison
N/A
Unsummoned
So… he did complete the summoning, but he summoned a fucking mushroom! That was it for the help he could have hoped from his familiar. Having nothing else to do Marc decided to summon it and look if it could be useful in a way or another.
A little purple sparkle appeared out of nowhere, it then grew until it was about fifty centimeters big and began to take the shape of a mushroom. With a “pop” sound the light disappeared and instead was a big mushroom, half a meter tall, with a brown cap and a white stalk.
Suddenly the mushroom lifted up his cap and Marc saw that it had two little eyes, a mouth smiling at him and a pair of tiny little feet allowing him to walk and come closer to Marc to cuddle him. Marc was taken aback, it was the first living creature he saw there and it was very friendly and very weird. Those who had taken him there didn’t count, he didn’t see them.
“Well, you need a name right? So how will I name you? Mushy? Mushmush? No they are stupid names. Boletor? Even more stupid. What do you think of Paulet? He was a scientist on my world and studied mushrooms.”
“Squeaak!” reply the bolete cuddling harder against Marc, as if it liked the name.
Congratulations!
You just named a familiar, and it accepted it, by doing so you have deeply bounded with it and it will be more powerful and loyal to you.
Those were good news, if his useless familiar could become a little less useless it would be for the better. And he saw nowhere that he was limited to only one, he’ll make sure to do a better choice if he had another opportunity to summon one. But for the moment he would use Paulet as a Teddy-mushroom in his cold cell.
__________
Gron was unhappy. Gron had to go wake the new slave. Why did Gron had to do it?
The chieftain liked the human. She wanted to speak with him.
Like if a human could have something interesting to say. They were cowards and weaks. Always using unfair moves in combat.
Humans were only good as slaves or food. And sometimes toys. But that was part of the slave and/or food things.
Gron went down in the castle. It was a castle that they had taken some weeks ago to some human bandits.
Gron arrived to the new human’s cell and opened the door.
The human was sleeping and hugging a mushroom. Strange. Grom had killed one exactly like it after they had captured the human. Where did the human found it?
Not important.
Gron kicked the human in the leg. The human woke up with a scream. Nice.
“Get up human!” Gron said.
The human did something stupid. He attacked Gron. The mushroom did it too.
Grom punched the human in the face. The human fell to the ground, knocked out. And Gron kicked the mushroom of his leg. He killed it after. Gron was strong.
Gron picked the human and went to the throne room.
Gron didn’t see the mushroom’s corp vanish in the air with a faint purple glow.
----------------------------------------
When Marc woke up again, he was in a worse situation than the previous one. He was tied to a wooden device he couldn’t see in a room full of people. Well people was a discutable term, they were green, tall, bulky and ugly. Most of them were bald. They obviously were orcs, like in the games and stories. The fact he was in a fantasy world was strongly getting down on Marc now.
They were fiercely arguing with each others. But Marc couldn’t get why, as they were talking in a language he didn’t knew. But he managed to see in the center of the gathering what they were looking at. It was a fight.
The fight was between two orcs, or it seemed so. One was a really big one, looking much stronger than the orcs around. He had a lot of tiny little scratches and was fighting with a crude big sword using it with his two hands, and wearing nothing else than leather pants. It looked like he had the upper hand.
The other fighter was a woman, just a bit smaller than every orc there. But Marc couldn’t guess if she was smaller or taller than him, he was in a strange posture and his senses were twisted. She looked almost human, with a delicate face, with smaller tusks than the others orcs, but a much darker skin, almost black. Her left arm was hanging at her side, visibly broken, and in her right hand was a broken blade. She was wearing leather pants and a leather coat with a small piece of chainmail on top of it. It seemed she was going to lose the duel.
Suddenly the big orc attacked with a roar. Aiming at the left side of his opponent, he was clearly trying to take advantage of her injury.
But she dodged, getting under his blade, moving fast under his arms and stroking him in the opening he had left.
She cut deep in the armpit, getting behind him in the same move. Then she jumped before he could turn around and she struck his neck with a lot of strength, sticking the broken blade in the bones.
The big orc fall dead on the ground, and the assembly cheered loudly. The female orc put her foot on his head to get the strength to remove the shattered sword. She then looked right at Marc making him shudder. She had bloodlust on her smiling face.
“You, you’ll be my new personal slave, and I’ll have a lot of fun with you.” She talked, but he didn’t understand a word. Coming closer to him, she ran her hand across his body, like if she was examining a horse, making him aware of his complete nudity. Marc was truly uncomfortable with this situation, having never been interested in exhibitionism or masochism.
After closely examining her prisoner the female orc giggled a bit and went to sit on the throne, attending to rule the orcs there. During the evening Marc was sent away.
----------------------------------------
“Will you really use this human as a sexe slave, Lagakh?”
“Yes, I plan to ride him until he die. Do you plan to challenge me too, Magra? You may be our shaman, but I won’t hesitate to kill you if you defy me.”
Magra backed away, he didn’t want to end the same way that Ogrumbu did. He was smart enough to see that Lagakh was a better fighter than any other orc in the vicinity, mostly thanks to her ascendant. She was a half-blood of black orc and something else he didn’t know, giving her a lot of advantages and the strength to subdue those stupid orcs. Add to this, only Ogrumbu and his insane strength could have been dumb enough to challenge her.
As a shaman, he was able to use magic and had a lot less time to physically train. And even with his magical ability he wouldn’t bet on his victory against Lagakh. He decided to follow her and use her to become one of the strongest shaman of the orc tribes, planning to gather a lot of magical material to experiment and grinding power.