Two-hundred players gathered at the center of the raid camp, having been woken at dawn. The gathered players did last minute checks on their equipment, a mix of excited and apprehensive, because today was the day they would start the raid against the world guardian of the End Mountains – The Red Dragon of the West.
Azrael stood somewhere at the edge of the gathering masses, avoiding the crush of people. Though he’d gotten better at being around people, he still preferred to avoid crowds and crowded places. Besides him, his travelling companion James towered over most players by at least a head, his equally massive zwei-händer strapped to his back. Having joined Azrael at some point in his adventurers, the massive swordsman – though an enigma and a bit of a battle maniac – was at least a familiar face amongst these crowds.
Having received news that they would be starting the raid at dawn last night, Azrael had started his preparations by logging off. With the fourfold time dilation, that only allowed him two hours to log out of the game, before he had to log back in. Forgoing his usual log out routine of going for a jog, he simply changed out the nutrition pods in his gaming capsule, to ensure he could stay logged in for the maximum possible amount of time, before hopping back in and getting as much sleep as he could before the big day.
Now, Azrael’s preparations mostly involved pulling the hood on his head further down, to avoid having to look at anybody. Occasionally he would check his belt, making sure that the satchel holding his crude mana potions was safe. Also packed into a small satchel were a handful of the unique magical leaves from which the potions were brewed.
As a rogue-type spellcaster, mana was one of his most valuable resource in a fight, alongside stamina. He paused and reconsidered. The fact that he summoned his daggers meant it was probably his most valuable.
Checking his satchel for the twentieth time he turned his attention outwards, listening in to some of the chatter from nearby players or listening to them sharpening their already sharp blades. Their conversations weren’t that interesting, being things he either knew – such as the Holy Empire guild being less than a day away, ready to steal either the dragon corpse or the final kill – or false bravado of players trying to ease their anxiety by lightening the mood.
Neither he nor James joined in. Despite his usual easy-going attitude James stood like a sentinel, waiting for the battle. Azrael himself had neither the interest in joining in in other players’ small talk, and he didn’t have a need to prepare or sharpen a weapon, due to the fact that he summoned his daggers using [Earth] magic, one of the elemental forms of magic he had access to. Still, preparing for combat couldn’t go amiss and he took the moment to summon a [stone dagger].
Drawing out some mana from his core he let it flow into his hand and shaped it. It was a familiar action and he’d never actually put much effort into an expendable dagger, but with nothing else to do he took the time to shape and sharpen the blades to perfection. Then, with precise control, he manipulated his mana – slowing it, reinforcing it – until it manifested and turned to stone. He gave the dagger a flip and nodded – satisfied – then summoned a second with equal care.
Beside him James stirred and Azrael directed his attention forward, carefully placing both daggers in his belt. From somewhere at the far front he heard a female voice speak – amplified by magic. It was the voice of the Ranker Lilith – The Lightning Witch – who was acting as the leader for this raid. Almost subconsciously he fell into the familiar breathing patterns of [Meditation], feeling mana flow in to refill his reserves. He listened to The Lightning Witch speak.
“Players, Adventurers, Heroes, soon to be Dragon Slayers..”
A huge cheer went up, forcing her to pause.
“…as you know the Holy Empire is marching towards us as we speak, ready to steal our dragon…”
A round of booing and angry shouts.
“… to steal our glory…”
The booing and shouting redoubled
“… and to steal our victory.”
The crowd almost lost it – two hundred proud gamers shouting at the top of their lungs. They’d all risked their lives through uncharted forests and mountains to participate. The people here were either the strong, the determined or the lucky. Many of them were independent players with an innate distaste for guilds and now one of the largest guilds in the game were coming to encroach on their raid. Azrael had to give it to the Lightning Witch as she continued her speak. She really knew how to motivate these players.
“… but we will emerge victorious! We will prevail and when the time comes we will be the pioneers who opened up the world to new frontiers!”
At the end of her speech the crowd went wild, their combined voices echoing through the mountains, as loud as a dragon’s roar. Azrael hoped that they didn’t actually wake the dragon. The last time players had disturbed the dragon it had burnt down a large swathes of the plains at the base of the End Mountains, as well as sections of the End Forest. The village whose [Lord] he was didn’t come out unscathed either.
Apparently, The Lightning With also realised that waking the dragon was a possible danger and swapped to a more mundane topic – the organisation of the raid. Now, Azrael didn’t want to admit to letting his mind wander, but when the entire convoy of battle ready players marched through the mountains under protection of sound-blocking and illusion spells, he realised he didn’t actually have a clue where he was expected to fight. He shrugged. Plans mostly fell apart in all but the most professional of raids. This was 200 mostly independent players – far from professional.
***
Late mid-morning, all players quietly filtered through a dragon-sized cave in the mountain side. The going had been hard, but with the aid of some minor buffs from numerous spell casters, the group of players had made good time. Now, they were quite literally entering a dragon’s lair. The lair itself was fairly easy to spot, sun-bleached and fire-charred bones of unfortunate prey marking the entrance. The necromancers – he’d been surprised to learn that there were necromancers in the raid – were having a good time, raising bone monsters or complaining at the terrible state of some of the bones. Some stood by, deciding to stick with the shambling bodies of freshly raised copper-scales. The entire group was given a wide berth by the regular players.
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Azrael left them outside and entered the lair, following other players through the long passage into the mountains. The stone floor was worn flat by the passing of the dragon, countless times, but as they continued in it became harder and harder to make out details as the sunlight from the cave entrance failed to reach as far in.
To alleviate some of the darkness he summoned a flame, noticing that it sprang into existence far easier than he recalled. He frowned, activating [Mana Sight]. He’d noticed that the amount of natural mana in the air had increased as they’d walked closer to the edge of the known world, but that didn’t explain why it was easier to summon a flame. At most it made it easier to replenish mana.
He looked around, noting that shadow mana was extremely abundant in the dark cave, but that was expected. What was unexpected was that there was far more fire mana than there should have been. It streamed out from further in, flowing towards the players. It danced around players’ torches and mingled with light mana to illuminate their passage, but for some reason didn’t dissipate, even when it left the flames. It was unnatural.
Eventually he realised why, as he and the players round him began to sweat. It wasn’t fire, but heat mana. Usually hidden and overpowered by the vast quantities of other mana types in nature he’d never noticed it, but here there was barely any light, no plants, no water and the earth mana was mostly contained within the walls. It was denser here too, but still contained, leaving shadows and heat to dominate the cave.
And the further it got the warmer it became, until the cave path they followed opened up into a wide cavern, far larger than he’d thought possible to exist within the mountain. Azrael’s jaw dropped, as did many others’. It was magical and it was massive! When people mentioned dragons’ lairs they thought of piles of gold coins and jewels. There were no coin piles, but crystals grew in multi-coloured clusters from the floor and walls, shedding some light and reflecting and refracting the player’s light sources to further illuminate the cavern. The domed roof of the cavern was so far up that it was lost in the darkness. The heat and the amount of mana in the cavern weren’t a joke either. Neither was the sleeping red dragon right in the middle.
The massive creature was as majestic and intimidating up close as it was from a far, if not more so. Taller than a house, even when it slept, its form dwarfing all the players. The torchlight from the players torches caught on its countless red scales – red as blood and undoubtedly as hard as or harder than steel. Most eye-catching though was the large scar running down its left side, starting from its left eye and continuing down almost its entire left side, running across both its left foreleg and left wing. A past wound. It was likely far wilier and more ruthless to have survived this long, but it also provided a possible opportunity.
Apparently, he hadn’t been the only one to think that. There was a fresh wound by its blinded left eye, the snapped haft of a spear still embedded and encrusted with dried blood. It was no doubt the only evidence that remained of the guilds that had thought they stood a chance against the dragon and caused the dragon to rampage in the plains below. His fingers clenched and then slowly unclenched. He hoped they had suffered, because his villagers certainly had. The dragon was dangerous and it had to go. He had promised his people as their [Lord].
Briefly he considered inspecting it with [Lord’s Insight], but stopped himself. He knew from experience that powerful people could feel it when he did that. It was highly likely that it applied to powerful creatures as well.
With considerable effort he forced himself to look away and move on into the cavern. Around him the raid slowly took shape. Players moved into groups. There were dedicated squads – healers, tanks, long range damage dealers – and there were parties groups of three to ten that positioned themselves around one of the sides of the cavern.
In the half dark of the cavern it was hard to make out who was where, but Azrael distinctly saw the newly raised undead on the furthest possible part of the left wing. The Lighting Witch was probably near the center, ready to command the raid.
He himself had followed James, taking the right wing. In position, James drew his massive sword and turned to give Azrael a solemn nod. It was somewhat ruined by the excited grin plastered all across his face. Azrael smirked on the inside. Battle Junkie.
Making sure that he himself was ready for the imminent battle, Azrael checked his satchel, his potions and the mana imbued ghost mint leaves. Satisfied that they were still there and within easy reach he flicked open his [Status].
Status
Name: Azrael
Class: Runist (Lv.5), Sorcerer (Lv.6), Lord (Lv.5), Thief (Lv.1)
Race: Human (78%)
HP: 410/410
MP: 400/400
STR: 28
END: 41
DEX: 32
AGI: 25
INT: 40
WIS: 44
Titles:
{Sinner}, {Heretic}, {Master of Status}, {Rune Master}, {God Watched}, {Lord of the End Forest}, {Teacher}, {Oath Maker}, {Void Touched}, {Trickster’s Blessing}, {Void Walker},
{Marked By Purity}.
Unique skills:
[Status], [Elemental Mana], [Lord’s Insight], [Aura], [@#%& Self], [Shadow Step], [Footwork]
Skills:
Weaving (Lv.2), Crafting (Lv.16), Spear Arts (Lv.20), Mana Sight (Lv.26), Mana Mastery (Lv.5), Soul Sense (Lv.15), Dramatic Flair (Lv. 11), Stealth (Lv. 24), Calm Mind (Lv. 21) Lord’s Domain (Lv. 2), Leadership (Lv.6), Void Shaping (Lv. n/a), Reinforcement (Lv.24), Dagger Arts (Lv.32), Meditation (Lv.34), Mana Transfer (Lv.5), Craftsman’s Eye (Lv.1), Intimidation (Lv.6), Search (Lv.24), Heat Resistance (Lv.13), Fire Resistance (Lv.7).
Checking his [Status] wasn’t really vital, more of a precombat ritual than anything else. He pleasantly noticed that [Search] had levelled up to 24 from its constant use on his journey here, right onto the cusp of the first advancement.
Now, feeling as prepared as he could be, he carefully drew his two daggers and turned his gaze to the dragon. Around him whispers quietly echoed around the cavern. There was a tension in the air and everyone felt it. Unbeknownst to him there was a huge grin spread across his face.