"No, I don't think it was Ryzavin and Luzcavis," I say. "Even they don't get so bored as to ask the God of Death for favors like this. It has to be Tyzlevir, he's the only god who'd get permission from the God of Death."
That does beg the question, though, of why the Godking resurrected my husband and me. We don't know how long ago we died, but we do know that we did die – and the next thing we knew, we were waking up in this glade.
The bodies we have are definitely our old bodies – or at least, they look it.
Kyron is still his 5'10" self with platinum-blond hair and bright azure eyes, his build lean and toned from a lifetime of learning and training in martial arts and swordsmanship. I'm still my 5'6" self with hair as black as night and dark green eyes, my build more slender, just like pretty much every mage. On the build thing, not the height part.
We're wearing different outfits, though. Kyron is looking very handsome in his blue-grey pants, bluish-white tunic, white leather vest with a frosty pattern on the shoulders, white leather belt, and white leather boots with bluish-white laces. I'm feeling very nice in my black wool pants, black leather belt, black leather boots with red laces, and dark red mage's robe. The robe has reddish-orange markings on it, as well as the crest for fire on the front twice and large on my back.
Kyron and I have matching rings as well, a simple black band I wear on my right ring finger and which he wears on his left. Mine has blue and purple runes running around its circumference, while his has green and purple ones. Those are the only items we have that we had before we died – matching spatial rings.
Unfortunately, they're completely empty. Whatever god brought us here, he wanted us to start over from scratch.
Not entirely, however, as we both have a magic item.
Kyron's is a [Sword of [Enchant: Frost]], the blade appearing as simple steel with a snowflake pattern running down it. The hilt is simple yet elegant at the same time, a bluish-white ice crystal set into the pommel and another set into either side of the crosspiece, in the center of a snowflake. It's a Moderate-Grade weapon that has [Enchant: Frost] enchanted into it, allowing it to be activated at 10 Magic in power for 30 seconds at the cost of 1 use.
A normal sword like that would have only around 200-250 uses, but this one has 1,000 uses – no doubt the reason it's Moderate-Grade instead of Minor-Grade.
My weapon is a staff that's made from a pale wooden shaft with a dark red leather grip. Hanging from said grip are three cords of the same leather, a knot at the bottom of each keeping the five beads (fifteen total) from slipping off of each. The beads alternate in design, with two of them made of a black stone and the other three made of a reddish-orange crystal. Three reddish-orange feathers that shimmer gold where the light hits them have been slipped into the beads on each cord, for nine total feathers.
At the very top of the staff is a flame-like carving that's well-done and spreads out a little more from the staff before curving back over the staff. Held by said flames is a reddish-orange crystal the size of my fist.
This is a [Staff of [Fire Bolt]], and can cast [Fire Bolt] at 10 Magic in power for 1 use, and has 1,000 uses.
These weapons are enough to get us set back onto the path of becoming the great warrior and mage that Kyron and I were before we died. We could do that without the weapons, but whoever resurrected us wanted to give us a boost.
Which has led to Kyron and me debating who resurrected us and why.
"Why would Tyzlevir resurrect us?" Kyron asks. "He has literally no reason to do so. Our patrons, however, loved us dearly. They probably resurrected us so that we could live without the war."
"Instead of our eternal afterlives?" I ask. "That's supposed to be much better, Kyron. We were resurrected for a reason. Probably to deal with something that's going on right now, just as we did with the demon invasion however long ago we dealt with that."
Kyron and I sacrificed our lives to slay the Demon King, but we made sure he died. We were also nineteen and eighteen at the time, respectively, so it isn't unreasonable to believe that a god might resurrect us after the effects of the war were over. Granting us a period of peace to live out the rest of our lives, without the stress of a war.
But that doesn't make sense when the afterlife would be so much better.
"Something is going on," I tell Kyron. "Let's get our bearings, find a Temple of Stars, and ask the gods. They always respond when we pray. And whoever resurrected us left us at Mythical-Tier, instead of making us work our way back up to that."
"Alright, alright," Kyron chuckles. "Since we don't have your items anymore, let's follow the stream and hope it leads us to a town."
If my ring hadn't been emptied before we were resurrected, we could find a town in moments. I had an item that would use air magic to scan everything for fifty miles, then light magic to create a miniature map of it. That thing cost me six months and twenty-seven attempts to create, too. While I don't know how long it's been since I made that, it will probably take awhile to make a new one.
So we're stuck finding civilization the old way. A small stream flows out of the spring in the glade we're in. That stream will no doubt lead to a larger one, which will eventually lead to a river. As long as we follow it downriver, we should eventually come across a town. Since I doubt we were deposited too far from one, we'll probably find one before nightfall.
Which would be nice, since it's autumn here and the air will no doubt get quite cold, and we don't know what manner of monster will come out at night.
Kyron and I continue debating which god or gods resurrected us and why as we walk. The stream meets up with a larger one after about ten minutes, and that one twists and weaves through the forest. It goes from being a few inches deep to a few feet deep, and ten feet in width to almost fifty at times. Every now and then, it also cascades down a short waterfall – no more than half a foot at a time.
"Cay," Kyron suddenly stops walking. "Something's going on."
Kyron has always been able to sense danger before I can. Trusting his senses even with us being recently resurrected, I close my eyes. I've not cast any spells yet, and we agreed to portray ourselves as Minor-Tiers who can only cast water/ice magic (Kyron) and fire magic (me) around others, but that doesn't mean that's all we're limited to.
As a Mythical-Tier, I've unlocked every elemental magic there is. The one I'm using now is an air spell, and requires me first relearning how to use air magics. Even if I was a great mage just hours ago in my memory, my skills are sorely lacking.
That's mostly because I'm significantly weaker now than I was before, with my Level reset to zero. I learn quickly enough, however.
[Air Manipulation] learned!
[Air Creation] learned!
[Air Scan] learned!
With me being at only 10 Magic, I can't extend the spell out too far, nor can I get more than a rough visual. I do, however, locate the source of the disturbance Kyron felt. It's only a little bit within the range I can push out with 10 Magic and 25 Mana, but I manage to sense it before the spell breaks.
Before our sacrifices, I could maintain it constantly with the boundary five thousand feet away, and I'd recover my Mana faster than I spent it for the spell. This one saps me out of Mana in seconds, and I can barely stretch it out the distance I manage.
"That way," I point. "Thousand feet. Wagon. People. Monsters. Probably goblins."
Kyron and I take off running, and Kyron draws his sword once we're almost there. As we break through the undergrowth of the forest, we start to hear the sounds of fighting. Then we come across the battle.
Three swordsmen with basic swords are fighting against the twenty-four goblins that surrounded their covered wagon. A woman is sitting in the driver's seat, kicking at the goblins that are trying to climb up to her. Some of them are attacking the horses with their clubs, and it's amazing that the horses haven't taken off yet. One of the swordsmen is defending the back of the carriage, while the other two are at the side, surrounded on all sides by goblins.
"They aren't using magic?" Kyron mutters as we run forward.
"Those swords are designed for harnessing spells," I say. "But cast ones, not activated ones. They're out of Mana."
Minor-Tiers with very few Levels. They were probably only able to maintain their spells for mere seconds.
"[Fire Bolt]!" I thrust my staff forward as I activate it, and a six-inch-long streak of flames shoots forward, slamming into the back of the head of a goblin only eight feet away.
At 10 Magic, [Fire Bolt] can only travel up to ten feet. The average goblin only has 7 Constitution, and this one appears to be no different – the flames deal severe burns to it and the beast stumbles, screaming as it raises its hands up. It drops its club as it clutches the back of its head…
Then Kyron runs his sword through its back.
+0.21% Experience!
"Tch!"
I forgot how little Experience we gain from basic monsters since we're Mythical-Tier. The higher one's Tier is, the more Experience they need to gain a Level. Though most people never realize that, since most don't even have a Class – and those who do don't realize that we aren't receiving percents, the System is simply showing us them for ease of use.
"[Fire Bolt]!"
Kyron and I work our way through the goblins, with me hitting ones that need distracting, and my husband attacking any that are crippled or too close to him. We focus on saving the pair of swordsmen first, and they go to assist the lady on the wagon, whose dress is in tatters by the time we finish. After those two are saved and are helping her, we help out with the back of the wagon.
With Kyron's skill with a sword and the magic staff I woke up beside, we're able to make short work of the goblins. I call up my Status as we walk back around to check on the others.
Name: Caleb Age: 18 years Species: Human Sex: Male Class: Mage Tier: Mythical Level: 0 Experience: 3.43% Mana: 2/25 Mana Regen: 0.020/second Strength: 8 Constitution: 9 Agility: 8 Magic: 10 Luck: 10 Vitality: 10
That little Experience? Seriously?
"You just checked your Experience, didn't you?" Kyron laughs.
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
"I hate being Level 0 again!" I say. "Before we met, when I was still a Minor-Tier, I gained more Experience from one goblin than I did from all seventeen of the ones I assisted in the kill of here!"
"We just need to find a decent Tier I Dungeon and we'll be back up a few Levels," Kyron gives my hair a brief ruffle. "Did you notice? We can understand their language."
I did notice that, though we're still speaking in our own. Whichever god resurrected us, they also granted us knowledge of the language here.
"Thank you," one of the swordsmen says.
All four of the folks have brown hair and brown eyes, with one of the men a little more tanned than the rest. Their clothes are all in a bad state, and one of the men is checking the injuries on the woman.
"You're welcome," I respond in their language. "I notice that she had a staff, but the crystal's broken? How few uses did it have before the fight? I didn't see any injuries that would suggest they were from that [Staff of [Air Bolt]."
It's a simple wooden staff with an air crystal fixed to the top, no decorations or additions. When inspected through the System, it just says it's a [Broken Staff of [Air Bolt]], with the description basically matching that. The Remaining Uses counter on it naturally says there are none left, and it looks like it could only do an [Air Bolt] at 5 Magic.
That would have done some damage to the goblins, but not much. All of the injuries I saw on the goblins were from blades.
"It was broken before we got here," the woman tells us. "And sadly, I lack the skill with a weapon as they have, though this young man seems to have greater skill than they."
"My name is Kyron," Kyron introduces himself. "And this is my husband, Caleb. We're travelers from afar. Runaways, you could say, and we decided to explore the area we've found ourselves in with the hopes of finally gaining some proper strength when we heard the fighting. Are goblins in such numbers so usual?"
"No," the man who spoke first responds. "Nor do we normally see them as frequently, even when traveling this deep into the forest. It is why her staff was already broken – it started with 200 uses, but has since been used up. We don't know how to make magic items and that was the only staff we had for her."
"No Class, or simply not a high enough Level?" Kyron asks.
"The former," he answers. "So she can't use magic on our own."
"I'm a merchant," the woman tells us. "I asked these men if I could accompany them on their trip to a newly-discovered Dungeon, in the hopes of being able to make a little extra money selling some of my goods to the workers there."
"A newly-discovered Dungeon?" I say in my own language. "Those were a pebble a dozen in our day."
"Pretty sure you just knew how to make them spawn," Kyron snorts, then switches back to the current language. "Won't there be many merchants? No offense, but your product doesn't look too good, and if you could only afford a single magic staff…"
"This one was discovered a few months ago," the man in the lead says. "But it's still just a small camp. It's a Specialty Dungeon, and no one can decipher the requirements – nor have they been able to figure them out. The three of us were only going there because we annoyed the lord."
Specialty Dungeons cannot be entered by just anyone until they've been cleared the first time. Until then, only Parties which meet the proper requirements can enter, and the requirements are always written in the local tongue on a message floating for all to see. One that cannot be deciphered… is the riddle that hard?
Even when the gods were influencing the riddles to be as difficult as possible out of annoyance of me intentionally causing yet another Dungeon to spawn – I mean when the riddles were as obscure and strange as possible for reasons unknown to us – I could still usually figure out the requirements in a few hours of thought.
"He gets annoyed at everything," the man treating the woman's wounds snorts.
"The horses are fine," the third man declares, having been checking on the two horses during the conversation. "Some bruising, but otherwise okay to go."
"We'll escort you to the camp," Kyron tells them. "And see if we can't provide assistance in deciphering it. Then we'll be on our way, Cay and I would like to gain some more Levels, and staying at Dungeon we can't enter won't help us with that."
"Thank you," the man in the lead says. "I'm Richard, and these are Thomas, George, and Anne."
"Pleasure to meet you," Kyron says. "How far are we from there?"
"Maybe twenty minutes," Richard answers. "At least, if our estimates are right."
"Alright," Kyron says. "Then let us be off."
"Are you two trying to emulate the Heroes Born of Stars?" Thomas asks as we begin walking and the wagon begins moving.
"Who?" Kyron asks. "As I'm sure you've noticed by our accents, we are from far away. We're not familiar with the term."
"Little more than thousand years ago," Anne says. "The Great Demon War broke out. Out of nowhere, two young men came forth, a swordsman who wielded the powers of ice and a mage who wielded the powers of fire. Together, they fought against the Great Demon King, and in a battle still celebrated today, they sacrificed their lives to put an end to the beast. Though their names have been forgotten to time, the Sage of Fire and the Saint of Frost are still remembered today."
"A thousand years?" I ask in our language. "Think there are still statues of us?"
Kyron gives me a light shove, and I chuckle as I catch my balance.
"No," Kyron tells them. "Those are simply our first affinities."
That much is truth – our first affinities were fire and water/ice. We're just not mentioning that we can use all four elements.
"Yet you have expensive magic weapons that are filled with them," she says. "You could use items of another type, you need not an affinity for an element to use a magic item with it."
"Maybe," Kyron says. "But these are the elements most comfortable to us."
"Besides," I add in our language. "It's not us emulating these great heroes, it's everyone else trying to emulate us. One thing they'll never be able to match is the size of our dicks, especially not my husband's."
"Stop that," Kyron snorts as he gives me another light shove. "Them not knowing our language doesn't mean you can make comments like that."
I just grin at him, especially since he said that in their language.
"Comment like… what?" Richard asks, all four of them looking unhappy.
"My husband is a smartass," Kyron tells them. "He's just being cheeky, I promise that it's nothing insulting. The legend of the Great Demon War isn't known to us, could you give us some more information about it?"
"It's more a myth than known fact," George says. "No one knows if it actually happened or if it's just a tale. There wasn't much of a written record back then except in some areas, so the tale was passed down by word-of-mouth. What's known is that there was some sort of war, but that's all. One account I heard a bard tell said that the mage wasn't a mage of fire, but of earth – and he summoned a legion of gargantuan stone spears to descend upon his foes. More likely than not, the myths came about as a way to explain natural formations and such."
I actually did do that once. There were a bunch of titans walking around and I really wanted them dead after they interrupted lunch.
"Wow, even our children are myths. Let's make some more tonight."
"I am so glad you're using our language for those comments," Kyron mutters. "What is with you right now?"
"I haven't had sex in a thousand years, do you really need to ask that?"
"It's only felt like a few hours to us," Kyron says. "And we were dead."
"And we will not be sleeping tonight."
Kyron decides to ask them more about the myths that originate from when we were heroes, and pretty much every variation given is something I'm responsible for. They even mention one story that Kyron didn't know about, but which I can easily identify as being something I did before we met.
Pissing off that fire spirit enough he triggered his volcano was easier than I expected, and it wiped out a legion of frost titans. The story the merchant and guards know, however, is that the fire mage of legend conjured an inferno so great that it created the volcano in the mountain.
Kyron can tell I'm now wondering if making a volcano is possible and gives me a "don't you dare try it once you have the power" glare.
To be honest, I'm not even mad I didn't get finally get a Class for that, especially since I was hoping that since I was the reason they died, I would. That incident is what led to eleven-year-old me meeting Ryzavin for the first time.
He kindly asked me to never do that again. I told him I'd keep doing stuff with fire until I managed to earn a Class, and that was when he told me I just needed to use magic items and I'd be more likely to gain one of the type and affinity I liked if I was using magic items related to that, and if I were doing it in Dungeons.
Pissing off the fire spirit in that volcano was easier, but I did eventually gain a Class the way the God of Fire suggested.
One thing I learn before we reach the palisades around the camp is that there are actually quite a lot of myths from before we died, and that they think I'm four different people. Do people here not realize that it's possible to use more than one element? Or that someone who birthed myths like a rabbit in spring was definitely the sort of person who had gone up in Tier at least once or twice and thus had more than one element?
Seriously?
"Here's the camp," Richard says as we arrive, then greets the guard at the gate, explaining why they're here, why Anne is here, and that we encountered them on the way here and rescued them from goblins, then offered to escort them here.
"We're not planning on staying," Kyron informs the guard. "We have no interest in a Dungeon we can't enter."
"I'm good at deciphering strange riddles, though," I add. "So if you haven't figured it out yet, I can take a look and maybe offer some advice."
"Erik won't be happy at unknowns being here," the guard tells us. "He's the son of the lord over this territory, and is in charge of this camp. Even if you show us your Statuses, we likely won't be able to-"
"It's fine," I say. "I get it, the lord's family wants to make sure that you guys are the ones who benefit from it. Considering that I can see the Dungeon entrance from here and it's over a lake, it's not like we'd be able to just sneak into it. This is just an offer of my riddle-breaking skills."
My skills are specifically for Specialty Dungeon riddles, not just any ordinary riddle. I can still get stumped by those.
The guard looks like he's about to say something, but a woman calls out as she approaches.
"Erik won't be here for another couple of hours," she says. "So it's okay for you to come in, but our issue is actually the language – no one knows it."
"Ma'am-" the guard begins.
"I'll handle Erik if he gets pissy," she states. "Come on in, boys."
"Thank you," we enter, and the woman introduces herself as Meredith, Erik's mother.
She has a strong source of Mana within her, I can sense it even from ten feet away. I'd happily bet that she's a Level 25 Minor-Tier Mage, it feels like her pool is around 125 Mana.
"So it's an unknown language," Kyron asks. "We probably won't be able to help, then."
"That's fine," she says. "I heard the others mention you saved them from guards, and those weapons aren't the only curious things on you."
She indicates her ring finger, though there's no ring there. The tradition of rings for marriage wasn't widespread, and really only started after Kyron and I got these rings.
"You at least deserve lunch," Meredith tells us. "And it won't hurt to let you look at the record we made."
There's a wooden pier leading out to the Dungeon entrance, which is floating about twenty feet above the surface of the lake, about seventy feet from shore. The lake itself isn't all that large – only around two hundred feet at its widest, and I doubt that the portion that dips into a section of the forest, obscured from view, is much larger.
I can see from here the grey System window floating in front of the rectangular Dungeon entrance, though can't read the words of it. The pier leading up to it is flat, with stairs constructed to reach the Dungeon with a platform five feet on each side at the entrance itself.
Dungeon entrances are seven feet in height and three feet wide, with an additional three-inch border surrounding the sides and top. The entrance itself is black with glowing blue swirls and streaks through it, while the border is black with glowing blue runes on it.
"If it's all the same," I say. "Mind if we actually look at the entrance itself? I prefer looking at the original over what someone wrote down, just in case there are errors. Even the slightest shift can be a major change."
"Sure," Meredith leads us past the large pit for the cooking fire and the dozen tents and four tables set up out here. This really is a small camp, and it doesn't take long to reach the pier and the Dungeon's entrance. "Don't mind what those guys were saying before. Erik has issues, and that's why my husband asked me to come out here. I learned how he was treating the men when I arrived a few hours ago, and will be having strong words for him once he returns."
"It's fine," Kyron tells her. "Though we aren't high in Level, we're used to adversity, and these runes…"
"Unusual, aren't they?" Meredith asks. "A few of our best scholars are here, and they all agree that it may be an ancient language. The fact that it isn't this one is odd enough, but why would the Dungeon have an old language not in use anymore?"
"This appeared three months ago?" I ask.
"Yes," she answers.
Then whichever god or gods resurrected us began making preparations a few months ago. They can influence Dungeon appearances even if they can't directly create them. Definitely unlike me, the gods know what causes Dungeons to spawn and can influence things to make them do so. They're also able to directly influence the requirements for a Specialty Dungeon.
This one is written in the language from our time. My native tongue, and the one Kyron learned after the gods guided him to me because they felt I was too much of a mage to be left alone.
Only those from whom myths are born may enter here.
This is actually one of the more simple codes, and it's rather straightforward: only Mythical-Tier people can enter until it's been cleared. Since Specialty Dungeons are also Tier Invalid until their first clear, that also makes this the perfect place for us.
"I know this one!" I pump my fists up into the air, fire swirling around them for a few moments.
[Fire Manipulation] learned!
[Fire Creation] learned!
"Was the fire really necessary?" Kyron asks, speaking in our language just as I did a moment ago.
"Gotta show some flair!"
Kyron flicks a finger at me and snow bursts out of it and into my face.
"Stop with the fire," he says in their language, then looks at Meredith. "Caleb says he-hey, wait!"
I'm already through the Dungeon entrance before Kyron can grab me.