Tanya Ivanov grimaced as she punched a spike of ice through the skull of the apeman in front of her, a sword of compressed water slicing through the three behind her and two earth spikes impaling the ones to her right. The strain of multi-casting even these weak, low-level spells was giving her a splitting headache. The Snow Elf was not enjoying her day.
Now a Level 20 Elemental Mistress, Tanya found most of the monsters and beasts around their tiny village just outside the Raid Zone that used to be their hometown to be far less of a challenge than she would have liked… mostly she gained almost no xp from killing them. The apemen gave more xp than the goblins and kobolds that plagued the area, but that wasn’t saying much. There were a few beasts in the area that challenged her abilities enough that the System would award real xp for them, but she usually couldn’t afford to go far enough out there to take them on.
The biggest problem was that she was the only survivor of the police officers who had led their escape. The demoness had inflicted mortal wounds on all but her, and escaping the Raid Zone had cost the lives of several of the more capable civilians as well.
Thankfully, more of the survivors had combat Classes now, and they were leveling steadily. The problem was, most of them had ridiculously low stats in comparison to her or her deceased officers. There were a few habitual game hunters who managed to gain ranger-type Classes, and they were thriving… but they weren’t suited for protection. The few ‘tanks’ were barely strong enough to hold off a few goblins on their own, and the mages were somewhat short of being competent enough to fight safely in a group.
The most capable of the survivors, Jacklyn Moore, was a War Mage, with spells that required a bit of buildup in exchange for being absolutely devastating across a wide area for less MP than one would expect. She was great at crushing the raiding parties that hit the walls on a regular basis, but she was, in the end, about as squishy as a mage could get.
Tanya was less squishy, mostly because her stats were more balanced than she’d tried to make them at first. Her magic was her primary weapon, but she also had a thin rapier she used in close combat, having tossed aside her guns when it became apparent only the weakest of creatures would take harm from them.
She was wearing light chainmail armor, pieced together from loot taken from expeditions into the Raid Zone, which had become a demon-infested hellhole. A green cloak fell from her shoulders, and black leather gloves covered her hands, occasionally flickering with silver runes that enhanced her use of elemental spells.
The other two men in her group were both warrior types. Gerald Herman, who was a Blackguard, was dressed in light steel plate, a handaxe in one hand and a round metal shield in the other. An aura of menace and brutality came off of him in waves whenever he fought, but his cornflower blue eyes were currently showing apparent good cheer that she knew was a lie. As a High Human, he had changed the least of all the survivors after the Sublimation, his features merely being refined and ‘fixed’ to remove asymmetrical bits.
Gerald Herman was a sociopath. If this were Earth, she probably would have had to put him in a cell long ago, but here, his natural tendencies made him a valuable member of their small – far too small – community.
Michael Vernon was a Drow, wielding a scimitar in one hand and a curved dagger in the other. His yellow eyes were emotionless as they looked for threats, his inherent paranoia showing in the tension that never seemed to leave him, even in sleep. He was a Mage Dagger, some odd type of arcane rogue Class that apparently fit his race. Unlike Gerald, he was reliable even outside of a fight, as he was about as community-minded as she could want.
Unfortunately, his suspicions about the System being run by aliens who had them trapped in a video game so they could probe their real life bodies made him… unpleasant to be around at times. She honestly wondered if he had always been this crazy, though she knew the answer was probably yes.
Why do I always get stuck with the nutballs? She wondered resignedly as the other two conversed quietly with one another.
She didn’t mind Gerald. When she was in the CIA, she was practically surrounded by his type. As long as they knew they were weaker, they wouldn’t try to challenge. Nobody liked Gerald and Gerald knew he was significantly weaker than her due to his lower Class ranking and base stats. He was decent with that axe and his auras allowed him to be dangerous when fighting weaker enemies, but he just wasn’t suited for fighting strong enemies.
Michael, on the other hand… she was fairly sure he was going to crack, eventually. His type always did. Until then, she would use his abilities and hope he didn’t break at a truly inconvenient time.
Not for the first time, she wished that oddball, Lyam, hadn’t abandoned them during the boss fight. Despite how suspicious he had been, they could have used his powerful magic in that fight… and in the days after.
She gestured at the other two, making the handsign for ‘home’. She really hoped at least one of the other hunting parties would manage to get some better Classes when they hit level 20. Otherwise, things were just going to get grimmer, based on what she’d seen in the Raid Zone and farther out from the village.
As they approached the wooden palisade outside the village, one of the guards opened the gates and ran out, his poor-quality scale mail clattering with each step, “Tanya!”
Behind him, she could see the sheet metal and cracked brick mixed with green logs that made up the ‘houses’ of the village.
“What is it, Rick?” She asked with some concern. Rick was one of the few fighters that had survived the founding of the village, a Necrotic Battlemage who could infuse his blows with Corruption and Necromantic debuffs. He could even – temporarily – raise those he killed as weak undead servants to fight at his side. His Class was more flexible than that of a true Necromancer, but in exchange, he lacked the ability to create armies of the undead.
He was actually pretty good with the thin-bladed sword at his side, and the wounds it inflicted kept the corpses mostly intact, making the undead he raised last longer than they might otherwise.
“The demons in the Zone are marching north! Ralph and Cleetus got a look at them, and they are being led by that nasty Fiend General that took over after you killed the succubus lady,” He explained, his eyes full of concern.
Tanya chewed her lip as she considered this news. Over the past month, once they’d managed to use salvaged materials from the Zone to build shelters, she had gone into the Zone on her own a dozen times. Each time, she had scouted out the leaders of the demons who had taken over for the wolves after their escape. The succubi who had originally arrived had been replaced by massive Fiends, cloven-hooved monsters that looked like humanoids with minotaur-like horns and draconic snouts.
They were all hovering around level 40, with the bosses all being between 50 and 60. Moreover, the Bosses all had resistances to most conventional types of damage, based on what the aura-reading skill she’d gained from her Class told her. She’d quickly given up on reclaiming their town, instead choosing to fortify the temporary camp they’d built and turn it into a village, ignoring the protests of some of the more stubborn refugees.
It was frustrating… the Ice Magic she had gained was capable of harming them, but it was unlikely she could deal enough damage to kill any of the Bosses before they killed her. Her fellows were even worse off. However, if the Fiends were leaving, that meant they could reach the Zone Core without interference, reclaiming their old homes. There was the danger of the Fiends possibly coming back, but, given the low morale in the village, she felt she would have little choice but to try to retake the town in the end, anyway.
“Gather the fighters. When the last of the Bosses are out of the Zone, we are going to punch through to the Core. Inform the militia to get their spears and stand atop the wall until we return,” She ordered. The decision was now made. As her fellows rushed off to fulfill their orders, she looked at her status, wondering if it would be enough.
Name: Tanya Ivanov
Level: 20
Race: Snow Elf (Tier 2)
Profession: Police Sergeant, Former CIA agent
Class: Sorceress (Locked), Elemental Mistress
Title: Ruthless Protector, Victorious Challenger, Lesser Hero
HP: 2200/2200
MP: 3400/3400
Str: 16
Agi: 26
Dex: 26
Con: 18
End: 16
Int: 40
Will: 40
Cha: 18
Lck: 10
Martial Skills: Short Blades 25 Firearms 50, Improvised weapons 35, Medium Blades 27
Magic Skills: Water Magic 30, Air Magic 30, Ice Magic 25, Lightning Magic 28, Fire Magic 15, Earth Magic 12, Darkness Magic 10, Light Magic 17
Spells: Message, Ice bullets, Water Blade, Ice Spear, Earth Spike, Windwalking, Spark Bolt, Fire Arrow, Orb of Darkness, Ball of Light, Focused Laser
Weapon Style: CIA dirty tactics, Bee Strike (Novice)
Non-Combat: Knitting 30, Carpentry 8, Masonry 7, Cooking
Perks: Ruthless but Dutiful (This individual will always carry out their duties, albeit with a surfeit of ruthless excess, gain 25% effectiveness to Willpower stat), Heroic Challenger (all stats increase in effectiveness by 30% when facing a higher level enemy to defend others), Elemental Mistress (the elements obey you, you can inherently manipulate all elemental magic without the need for spells and may more easily create new spells)
Racial Perks: Temperature resistance (20% resistance to cold and heat), Altitude sickness immunity (this individual can move up and down mountains at rapid speeds without the differentials in air pressure causing them damage, does not provide immunity to vacuum or aerial toxins), Nightvision I
Talents: True Elemental Affinity (Can completely master all elemental magics), Leader III, Assassin IV, Spy II, Survivor I
_____________________________________________________________________
My youth wasn’t exactly the most pleasant of times. Like a lot of orphans in the US, I got moved around between various foster families and orphanages, rarely managing to form any real bonds before I was either tossed aside or moved somewhere else.
Even before I ended up in the system, though, I was already broken. The part of me that is like ice, emotionless and incapable of feelings not related to fulfilling an objective, was formed earlier. As such, these years served to form another part of myself… my ability to create a persona so realistic it was almost a personality in itself.
I think that I was afraid, early on. I knew I couldn’t trust the adults around me, and the children, given the environment, were usually not much better. However, one of the few saving graces of my early years was the youngest children, the ones who still had that veneer of true innocence that hadn’t been worn away by the realities of being without parents.
I often found myself taking on the role of protector, even though I knew it was inherently false. I had no ability to protect them from anything beyond the playground bullies. The people who had all the power over us were indifferent at best, monsters at worst.
It was this realization that made me take the second step down the dark road I began to walk before my mother’s death. A particular instructor at the Adams Institute, a sterile, impersonal abomination of an orphanage run by a man who looked at us like insects rather than people, had a taste for breaking the innocence of those small children I made a point of trying to protect.
… so I killed him. The children I protected never knew it, but I am pretty sure the others my age knew. His ‘accident’, on the stairs was too timely, given it was on the way to his ‘rounds’ of the youngest children’s rooms late at night. A little grease and a tripwire were all that were required to take the scrawny middle-aged man out of circulation.
I disappeared from that orphanage shortly after. While I felt no guilt for what I had done, the urge to do the same to several of the other instructors was strong enough that I knew I would eventually do it… and probably get caught. There were only so many accidents that could occur in one place before someone would get suspicious.
I spent the next year on the streets, only meeting the man who became my mentor when he found me standing over a thug from the Marino Family, a spork with a sharpened point lodged in his jugular. I don’t even recall why I killed him now. The days of training and murder that followed blurred my sense of that time to the point where I only recall the oddly gentle moments I had with my master.
Looking back, based on my experiences in the System, I can honestly say that my master probably saved me from myself. I was on the verge of true insanity when we met, and the techniques he taught me for self-control and introspection eventually evolved to the point where I could control how my mind would splinter when it became necessary to compartmentalize extreme emotions and traumatic experiences.
I find it odd that the person I am most thankful to in my life is the man who taught me how to use piano wire to cause ‘accidental decapitations’.
_______________________________________________________________
Lyam sat on a wooden chair in the third-floor library of the Adventurers Association, a black-scaled dragonkin woman with a slender tail sitting across from him, a crystal orb in her hands. She was a beautiful woman, even in Lyam’s eyes, the faint black scales around her joints and on her cheeks only accentuating her ivory skin and dark blue hair. Her burning crimson eyes were intent as she observed the roiling mist inside the orb, her expression completely focused on what she was doing.
“Impressive. I can see why Urgo wanted you to see me,” She remarked.
Lyam raised a brow, wondering where this was going. When he had come to get a new job from the board, Urgo had intercepted him, telling him to go see Vinala Roosier in the third-floor library. Not willing to offend Urgo by ignoring the order, he had gone straight up to see her.
“What is this about?” He asked.
She looked surprised, “The orc failed to tell you? Duke Vugra has paid for me to assess you and advise you on ways to solidify your build before your trip next week.”
I’m going on a trip? Urgo… just what is going on? He wondered. He wasn’t angry, precisely. He would not get angry until he knew what he needed to get angry about.
“And what trip would that be?”
“The trip you will be going on as a liaison for his daughter… oh, I see. Urgo pushed this off on me so he would not have to explain himself,” She said, looking irritated.
Before he could say anything, she continued, “Milord has created a mandatory mission for you to escort his daughter and act as a formal liaison with a community of the newly-Sublimated. I have not been informed as to why this would be, but I have been ordered to help you fill in the gaps of your build beforehand, so you will be well-equipped for whatever might come in the next days.”
“I see. I am guessing you would prefer to leave further explanations to Urgo?” He asked, hiding his annoyance behind a mask of polite sociability.
“Indeed. It is his duty to take care of such things. More importantly, I have a job to do,” She said, raising a faintly-scaled brow in inquiry.
“Please proceed. I am in your hands,” Lyam replied, curious as to what she would say.
“Now, your build so far is actually fairly good. Your Titles, Perks, and Talents synergize well, and though your skills are somewhat low for your level in some areas, you nonetheless show a great deal of talent and potential. The issue is that you lack in certain areas that a solo adventurer such as yourself needs addressed,” She began her explanation.
He sat forward, interested in what she had to say.
“First, while Gravity Magic is an incredibly versatile school, its damaging and control spells are both high-cost for the effects they produce. A simple Ice Lance does about the same amount of damage to a non-resistant foe as your Gravity Arrow, but it costs less than a third of the MP. The Gravity spell Stasis, as another example, utilizes multiple opposing fields of gravity to force an opponent to remain in place and costs about four times as much MP as the Lightning Magic Paralyze Shock, which has the same effect on non-resistant foes. The great advantage of Gravity Magic is that opponents have no fundamental resistance to it beyond their physical resilience. The disadvantages are the cost and the level of concentration necessary to maintain the more powerful effects,” She explained.
“Your solution?” He asked curiously.
“I would suggest gaining at least one elemental school focused on raw damage output and another focused on control aspects. While highly-evolved beasts and humanoids will have resistances to elemental magic, against most foes, you will at least have at least one tool in the box,” She said immediately.
“What else?” He asked, gesturing for her to continue.
“Dimensional Magic is complex and difficult to master. While your new Class is highly-focused on it, I would suggest you also pick up Spatial Magic spells so that you can have a stronger comprehension of ‘instantaneous movement’ spells. Your evasion of learning Gravity Magic through mastery of Force Magic hasn’t harmed you too badly for some reason, but true mastery of Dimensional Magic will require you to have a high degree of understanding of its precursor school,” She said bluntly.
“Are there any other suggestions you might have for me?” He asked.
“Many. However, I would suggest you pick up a sword-staff specific style from the library shop, as well as at least one mana cultivation technique that utilizes it. You have a hidden Talent that should awaken once you have reached Adept in Polearms utilizing a sword-staff, and your lack of a mana cultivation technique is making your relatively high cultivation go to waste. Your existing style is fine for swords, but it is only moderately able to utilize the sword-staff’s extended reach and differing shape. I also suggest you find a good enchanted sword-staff to be your soul weapon and learn at least one Light or Life Magic healing spell or purchase a regeneration skill,” She replied.
“A ‘hidden talent’?” He inquired. The idea that he needed a regeneration or self-healing spell was not a new concept to him. While his body healed rapidly compared to on Earth, it still required time.
“I am a Talent Seer, so I can view things in an individual’s status they are incapable of seeing themselves. You have a number of hidden and unawakened Talents. For weapons, the sword-staff is best, whereas you seem to have an inherent Talent unrelated to your race and Class-given ones for Darkness, Ritual, and Eldritch Magic. I do not suggest you pursue the last of those, as Eldritch’s effects on humanoid psyches are well-documented and universally negative,” She advised him. She was concealing a number of his hidden (and already awakened) Talents, both for hers and his own good. Nobody needed to know just how many gods hated and loved him… it was rare to see someone with over twenty divine marks on his soul… all of them chaotic. There was not a single Harmonious deity connected to his soul, which was a pity, considering how talented an artist and healer he could have been in another life.
“Ritual Magic?”
“Ritual Magic Affinity is a common Talent at its lowest level. The school itself is an outlier, like your Curse Magic, that creates effects in a transactional manner. The difference is that Curse Magic’s power is reliant on the value of the price offered up in exchange for the effect and thus has an inherent karmic element, whereas Ritual Magic essentially is the process of preparing a spell in stages using reagents, symbols, and catalysts to create a much greater effect than a normal casting would be capable of producing. I do not recommend focusing on this at this time for you. You will have plenty of time to branch out into other paths of power later on, when you reach silver or gold rank,” She explained before admonishing him when he showed some enthusiasm for the school in his eyes.
“Some of the curses I have access to require rituals,” He mused aloud.
“Yes, and if you used them, you would gain the Ritual Magic skill. However, I do not recommend doing so. Curse rituals can have crippling karma costs that can demonize you if you fail to take precautions. Going too far down that road will turn you into a monster – literally. Your Karma Manipulation will allow you to defray a large portion of the costs, but using curses is addictive. It is simple, transactional, and requires more knowledge than skill,” She warned.
He nodded, “Very well. I had not intended on using the ones I have, anyway.”
“There are a number of suggestions I could make for later on in your progression, but, given your apparent tendency toward achieving unusual Titles and Perks, I can honestly say that it would be better if you hired a consultant when you reached your next Class threshold at level 50. Your current Class is so idiosyncratic that I have no way to predict what kind of abilities you will end up with,” She said, shrugging helplessly.
“Are they that unusual?”
“To say the least,” She replied dryly before continuing, “Getting ‘first’ Class Titles, is of course extremely hard. While the System is highly responsive to our psyches, most people already have a Class in mind that they were trying for in advance, so new Classes are usually only born after a Sublimation or when an individual is getting close to the Pinnacle for this realm.”
“And my Perks?”
“The one that gives you immunity to disease and poisons reveals you to be from the newest Sublimation, due to its subtext, and Eyes of the Fallen God is a Perk that is only seen every few centuries, also usually right after a Sublimation. Your two Class Perks are also powerful and unusual, and they will likely give you access to higher Tier Classes, specializations, and evolutions at a later date. You likely will not see the full benefits until level 100, as you will need to specialize your current Class at level 50 to get the most out of it, instead of picking a new one,” She finished.
“You got that much detail? From what I could tell, the other people that examined me only got the Title and Perks without any explanations,” He asked curiously.
“I have four Seer-type Classes, all of them with at least twenty levels and a specialization before I picked up a new one. I have True Sight at 100, Piercing Vision at 80, Clairvoyance of the Soul at 90, and Dragon’s Eye at 50. Any of these alone would be able to get some details, but when I use my catalyst to combine them, I can see everything about a person’s status, even if they try to hide it,” She replied proudly.
“Why just Seer Classes?” Lyam was the type to prefer versatility over extreme specialization, so he wasn’t entirely sure of the point of going that far.
“I am from a family of Seers, and I enjoy quiet cultivation and looking at the System’s world and its people. So, I decided to focus entirely on being able to ‘see’ the world around me perfectly until I hit level 200. Before I begin leveling again, I will need to pick up a combat Class, as I can no longer gain xp for utilizing my Seer abilities,” She explained, looking a bit put out.
“You can gain xp for using your abilities?” He asked curiously.
“Non-Combat Classes gain levels and xp for completing Class quests, using their skills and abilities in new ways, and refining skills and abilities they already have. Crafters will gain xp for making new objects or working with new materials, and I gained most of my xp from mastering my Class skills and abilities,” She said with quiet dignity.
She has to be older than she looks, He thought. One thing he was noticing was that his skills and abilities were taking a great deal of time to grow even one level once they passed 50. Adept was apparently the rank where skills plateaued for most people. There was no way she got that many skills up to such a high level in the mere twenty years or so her looks would indicate.
Skills also seemed to grow the best under high-stress conditions… which he really hadn’t experienced since escaping the Challenge Dungeon. The recent ‘milk runs’ with copper and tin parties simply weren’t a challenge, so his skills weren’t growing.
At least his new sword-staff would be done in another two days.
“So… what spells do you suggest? I guess I will go for Lightning and Ice, since you suggested it and I do not have a preference,” He asked after thinking for a moment.
“Definitely the basic Paralyzing Bolt, Lightning Strike, Ice Sheet, and Ice Lance,” She replied instantly.
“Why those particular spells?”
“Paralyzing bolt is very cost-effective. Most normal-size monsters below your level will not be able to survive one use of this spell from someone with your high Willpower stat, and it will paralyze anyone with a lower Constitution than your Willpower. Lightning Strike is a highly-destructive spell that focuses on destroying magical defenses, so most mages who use Lightning Magic try to get it. Ice Sheet forms a thin layer of ice on a flat surface, allowing you disrupt an enemy’s charge, and Ice Lance is great at penetrating physical defenses due to its high speed and its shape,” She explained.
“What about Manipulation spells?” He asked. He loved Gravity Manipulation, because of how it filled in the knowledge gaps left by other spells.
“You can get them if you want, but most people do not bother with them, usually. Lightning Manipulation, in particular, is difficult to use due to Lightning’s natural tendencies,” She replied with a shrug.
“I can imagine,” Lightning’s relation to electricity and the conductivity of various metals would probably make it difficult to master its related Manipulation spell, when he thought of it.
Together, they rose and headed for the small shop at the rear of the library, where a bored-looking Drow girl in a blue satin robe sat atop a stool, drumming her fingers on her desk.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
“What did you need?” She asked in a lifeless tone when they approached.
“I would like spell-learning scrolls for Regeneration, Lightning Strike, Paralyzing Bolt, Lightning Manipulation, Ice Manipulation, Ice Sheet, and Ice Lance,” He replied without hesitation.
She raised her snowy brows in surprise, her faded green eyes coming to life suddenly, “Oh, someone who actually likes the Manipulation spells?”
“Yes, he is a strange one,” Vinala said, looking slightly exasperated.
“Ah, Ms Roosier. I know you think Manipulation spells are useless, but that just shows you have never tried to truly master any of the schools you know,” The dark elf said, shaking her head and giving Vinala a pitying glance.
“I have to agree. Since gaining Gravity Manipulation, it is like all the little gaps left from my spells have been filled in, and I find it much easier to alter them as needed,” Lyam agreed.
“You alter your spells? But you are not a pure magic Class and you do not have Metamagic skills…” Vinala looked disconcerted.
“You only need the base magic skill to alter spells, though Metamagic skills like Mana Manipulation and Mana Infusion make things easier. Ms Roosier, I normally refrain from saying anything when you advise people to avoid Manipulation spells, because the ones you are advising usually are not heavy magic users. However, the common belief that Manipulation spells are useless is the blathering of simpletons who never try to truly master their magic,” The Drow said bitingly.
Vinala looked offended, “I seriously doubt that Vaius Orgona is a simpleton.”
“Orgona might have the Archmage Class, but he is incompetent. He got all the prerequisites from spell and skill books, and he used pills and potions to raise his stats enough to qualify. Without pouring millions of credits into him, the Orgona Family would never have been able to get him that Class,” The younger lady replied acerbically.
Vinala looked like she wanted to refute the young Drow’s words, but something about that Vaius person must have made her refrain from doing so, as she closed her mouth before she could say anything.
“Can I get the scrolls?” He asked, disinterested in their conversation. No matter what the world, people with money would always baby their young to the point of ruining them, so he felt no particular need to say anything about it.
“Ah, sorry about that. That will be thirty-two thousand System Credits. Sorry, I am not allowed to haggle. The price is set by the Association,” The drow said apologetically.
“Also, can you get him the manual for Weaver’s Halberd? He uses a sword-staff but he doesn’t have a polearm-specific style yet,” Vinala interjected.
“That one is expensive… another thirty-thousand,” The elf warned.
Lyam winced, but he had over two hundred thousand credits in his inventory, so he merely touched the copper plate on the desk, transferring the sixty-two thousand credits. A moment later, the Drow girl nodded and seven scrolls and a book bound with black string plopped down on the desk out of nowhere.
He inventoried them to use later. It would be better to use them somewhere where he could lie down while he dealt with the after-effects of the injected knowledge.
“Do you have any cultivation fighting technique manuals for sword-staff users?” He asked.
“A few… but you would better off creating your own based on your Dao. Most cultivation techniques are pretty difficult to master if you do not have a matching Dao,” She warned.
“Hmm… are there any I can look at for free?” He asked.
She nodded, “There are basic manuals in the back that you can look at freely if you are an Association member. Most of them are movement or circulation techniques, though. Fighting techniques are only rarely circulated, and those that give them to us require that payment be taken before we can show them.”
“Hmm… then can you give me a book on the general concepts of forming a Root Technique?” He asked.
She looked surprised, “You have access to the ability to form a Root Technique? That’s impressive… most people don’t get to the Dao Formation stages until their Mana Cultivation hits Adept or higher. I will grab a basic concept primer then. Root Technique creation requires some knowledge beyond that granted by the skill.”
She rose and disappeared into the back for a few minutes before returning with a slim book with a brown leather cover. She handed it to him and he took it, opening it to the first page to see the title, Beyond the Skill, a Cultivation Primer.
“How much?” He asked.
“That one is only twenty-three credits, for the materials that went into it. The Association provides it at cost to all licensed adventurers with the Mana Cultivation skill,” She explained.
He tapped the copper plate on the side of the desk and transferred the credits, “Thank you. I will tell you how it went later.”
“My name is Fauna Laur. I can usually be found here on any given day of the week,” She replied cheerily as they walked away.
“It always surprises me that she managed to get to level 100 before she turned fourteen,” Vinala said, shaking her head.
Lyam started, “Level 100?”
“Yes, she gained the Metamage Class at level 20 and mastered it completely, becoming a Magelord at level forty, then True Wizard at Level 50. If she was not the Laur Family’s only child, she probably would have left Daena to seek more knowledge years ago,” She said.
“The Laur Family?” He queried.
“The Laur Family are the leaders of the Drow inside Duke Vugra’s lands. Similar to the Duergar Kaosick Family, the Laur Family has the duty of scouting the underground of this domain to make sure monster hordes do not rise without being detected beforehand. Unfortunately, her older siblings all managed to have… unfortunate accidents within a very short period of time twelve years ago, so she is now an only child,” She said, looking like she’d bitten into something rotten when she mentioned ‘unfortunate accidents’. Most likely, there was some kind of political fight that took out the younger generation, though Lyam didn’t dare speculate further without more information.
“I wonder what it would take for her to go out on a date with me…” He muttered to himself. Intelligent women were just as attractive to him as powerful women, so he found it hard to resist the allure of the young Drow. She reminded him of one of his past lovers, a librarian with a PhD in physics and a taste for scary men.
“I would not try it. The last three men her family threw at her ended up in the sewers… and not as adventurers hunting rats,” She warned, her expression somewhat exasperated.
“I am not surprised. Women like her do not like being controlled. Also, if her family was stupid enough to treat her like breeding stock, they deserve whatever fate they get,” He remarked. Even though the woman he knew on Earth had liked scary men, she had not been timid or passive at all. If he hadn’t been undercover at the time, he might have made a try at a more permanent relationship.
“Most nobility treat their females as breeding stock until they have popped out a few potential heirs,” Vinala replied, giving him a curious look.
“How does that work, without any real physical difference between males and females in terms of power?”
“If you are going to live for centuries, contracting a temporary marriage for a few children is generally less unpleasant than having ties with your family cut entirely,” She said absently.
He guessed it made sense, since even humans could supposedly live for three to four hundred years if they got their Constitution above 100, though humans supposedly ceased to gain xp if they didn’t evolve at least once before level 100. This was similar to the base orc and gnomish races, which were both Tier 1. Tier 1 species could only reach level 100, unless they evolved.
“Oh, please do not tell Urgo I told you about the expedition. If I had known he had yet to inform you, I would not have said anything,” She said suddenly.
“Oh? Is it some kind of secret?”
“Not quite… Most of Duke Vugra’s personal retainers know of it, since he decided on it during an audience. However, the public is unaware, as far as I know. Even the heads of noble houses outside the city are not being informed, and we have been forbidden from revealing it to them,” She replied.
“That is… disturbing,” In Lyam’s experience, getting involved with politics in any way, form, or fashion was a bad idea. His few political assassinations had all been nightmarish, if only because of how long he had to lay low and how thoroughly he had to cover his tracks to stay ahead of the authorities. It was his methodology in escaping the detection of the CIA, MI6 and several other intelligence agencies that led to that awful codename, ‘Hydra’. His tendency to use fake identities he had built up over the course of weeks or months for those jobs became an MO for him. The identities he diverted them to were the ‘extra heads’, or so his sources on the dark web had informed him.
“I suppose it would be, since you are involved. Thankfully, my involvement ends as soon as we part ways,” Vinala said with a small smile that reached her eyes, which glimmered with amusement.
:Master!!! The bunny squealed in his mind as she came running up the stairs to the library. Earlier that day, he had fobbed her off on Caluz after handing him a bag full of zombie heads from the sewers, but it seemed she had managed to find him, anyway.
“You have my condolences,” Vinala said when she saw the bunny scrambling toward them.
“Thank you. You have no idea how good it makes me feel that someone around here understands,” He said gratefully. Most of the humanoid males in his apartment were jealous of him, due to having a beautiful familiar that was apparently open to his advances at any time.
… of course, except for Caluz, none of them had seen her eat before. He was not going to kiss that mouth.
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Urgo grimaced to himself as he stamped the order that would send Lyam along with the expedition to the ‘Tokyo Raid Zones’, as they were apparently called by the survivors. While the Association was not beholden to the Duke, Urgo was. As the local head of the Association, there were only a few actions he could take to protect his people. One of them was the paper on his desk beside the mission order.
The holder of his letter shall be seen as an official representative of the Greater Adventurers Association for the duration of the mission stated.
It was a short, simple paper, whose only real distinguishing feature was the green glowing seal stamped on the lower edge… a seal that he had had to pay several rather expensive bribes to get hold of for a day like this, After this, I owe you nothing, Laevarian. I had to use my insurance policy to protect the monster you dropped into my arms.
Duke Vugra was easily one of the most inscrutable beings Urgo had ever encountered in his long (for an orc) life. As such, confronting him, in the best of times was counterproductive, to say the least. It was far more effective to put up this kind of preemptive ‘barrier’ in advance, so the Duke would have to spend a great deal of political capital to bury any incident he caused.
If something went wrong on the mission, the Duke would not be able to blame Lyam without offending the Association, unless he had truly done something wrong. Moreover, the Duke would not have the ability to unilaterally silence the monster that he would usually have when ordering the participation of a low-rank adventurer.
“I guess I have to hope he has no reason to take things too far,” The orc muttered as he tossed the papers to his personal paperwork fairy, a female with dragon-like scaled wings he had purchased from a creche decades before.
“Take this to Lyam Aldren, with the understanding that the order is compulsory,” He instructed her. Unlike natural-born fairies, the paperwork fairies were closer to homonculi than true lifeforms. She had a limited sort of intellect and restricted emotions, making her little better than a pet who could understand his words.
The creature grasped the papers with her magic and vanished, her natural racial ability transporting her to the target.
Having done his duty on both sides, Urgo took a wood pipe out of his desk and tamped some smokeweed into it before lighting it using a Spark spell. There was nothing he could do now but wait.
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The day before he was to leave with the expedition, Lyam stood inside a dwarven smithy in the ‘central tier’ of Daena, where the nobles and high-end craftsmen made their homes. The owner, a ‘Blackfire Dwarf’ named Grago, held in his thick-fingered hands a slightly-curved, thick sword blade as he examined the twisting spirals of runes along its spine. After a few minutes, he nodded with satisfaction and brought it over to his work table, where a rod of petrified wood with a black adamantium cap awaited. The rod was roughly long enough to reach Lyam’s diaphragm if it were held upward and the blade was about as long as is forearm.
The sword-blade was built for chopping as much as it was thrusting, its edge made of mithril and its spine of a heavy black and gold orichalcum/adamantium alloy. Ordering it custom had eaten up over two hundred thousand credits, part of which he had borrowed from the Association (now paid off due to his forced participation in the expedition).
Grago’s hands were almost reverent as he inserted the thick ‘peg’ at the end of the blade into the slot on the end of the rod before screwing in two mithril screws and tightening them with a hexagon-shaped screwdriver. Last of all, he wrapped the end with some type of gray leather covered in pebbly scales, covering the insert point and screw’s head completely, a small park of magic somehow sealing the leather as if it had always been attached to the rod, with no need to tie it off.
“Lad, I almost never get ta make somethin like this these days. The brats on the hill, they all want flashy stuff that makes them look good, and their parents are usin’ soul weapons they did bond in their youth. Gotta thank ye for giving me a chance to to work on something worthwhile,” The dwarf said as he turned to Lyam, the completed sword-staff laying across his hands.
“Is that why you let me haggle you down to two-hundred thousand and that weird rock I got off the boss in the Challenge Dungeon?” Lyam asked.
The dwarf nodded, “Becoming a Grandmaster Smith made me rich as a lord with a mithril mine, but I donna get ta challenge meself anymore.”
His face, which had been creased deeply with a smile a moment before, became deadly serious, “Lad, ye gotta come ta me for yer armor from now on. The crap ye are wearin’ is shameful, compared to this blade.”
“You can do leather?” Lyam asked curiously.
“Bah, any self-respectin’ dwarf Master smith knows how to use leather,” He replied, spitting into a nearby bucket.
The dwarf handed Lyam the weapon, and Lyam took it reverently, caressing the blade and the petrified wood of the shaft.
Zar’estra
Quality: Masterwork
Material: Petrified Elderwood, Orichalcum, Black Adamantium, Mithril,
Enchantment: Soul Bond (unbonded), Spirit-Severing Blade, Blood-drinker II, Channeler II, Shield-Breaker I
Charges: 5000/5000
Description- A Sword-staff made by the Grandmaster Smith Grago for the Saevere Wanderer Lyam Aldren. It was designed from the beginning to become a soul weapon for its user, its every feature and shape designed to fit him. It’s Spirit-Severing Blade allows it to harm ghosts and incorporeal enemies, Blood-Drinker allows the wielder to recover HP when they wound an enemy, Channeler allows the channeling of spells at a loss of efficiency through the blade, and Shield-Breaker facilitates the destruction of magical barriers. It’s name, Zar’estra means ‘Will of the Wanderer’. With time, it will grow with its bonded master and possibly gain new powers and abilities.
“Just drip yer blood on the blade and use the ability. The System will do the rest,” The dwarf said once he saw Lyam was done admiring his new weapon.
Lyam obeyed, clenching his hand on the edge of the blade, wincing slightly when the skin parted and his blood began to seep out onto the metal. He focused on his soul weapon ability and a prompt appeared.
Do you wish to select Zar’estra as your soul weapon? Y/N
The moment Lyam agreed, he felt a sharp pain run through his being and the sword-staff faded out of existence. He could feel that the weapon was somehow being stored in a specialized ‘sheath’ in his soul and that it would return to it if lost or dismissed after being drawn forth.
He cast Regeneration and winced at the pain as the skin on his hand slowly sealed shut.
The dwarf nodded, looking pleased, “Good. It dint kill ye.”
Lyam looked up, startled, “What?!”
The dwarf looked a bit embarrassed, scratching his bulbous nose, “Always a risk with soul weapons. If dey donna like ye, they sometimes try to kill ye.”
“And you didn’t bother to warn me?” Lyam asked with surprising calm, though his annoyance showed through with his use of a contraction.
Not that the dwarf was the type to care. His kind were disinterested in the etiquette of surface-dweller society even in the best of times.
“If I warned ye, would ye have refused to bond it?” He queried, raising a brow in mock inquiry.
Lyam shook his head with a sigh, “No I wouldn’t have. It is exactly what I needed. The artifact I already have is good for producing decent weapons, but I can already tell I will outgrow it in time if I can’t find materials to help it evolve.”
“Aye, tis a nice one the System gave ye. A thing of beauty, it is. Still, a bit of a gimmick compared to a purpose-made weapon,” He remarked. Lyam had introduced him to the Curse Dagger’s Armory on their first meeting.
“Still, ye should be on the lookout for materials the Armory will be wantin’. Tis a convenient tool, and there will be times when ye donna want ta take the time ta summon yer soul weapon and the Armory will be the best tool ye got,” He advised the younger being.
One of the Armory’s peculiarities, discovered after the dwarf investigated it, was its ability to consume materials to fuel its ‘evolution’ trait, which was apparently inherent to the artifact itself rather than an enchantment. The dwarf had told him to look for materials from monsters that could change shape and beast cores from mutant creatures, as both would most likely be preferred by the artifact.
“Yer soul weapon donna need that kind of babyin’. Twill get stronger as yer level and cultivation go up, infusing it with more soul energy. Twill also absorb part of yer xp, but tis the price ye pay for a weapon that can go with ye to the end of yer path,” He remarked.
“I am probably going to need it,” Lyam admitted. With the way the bunny was screwing with his luck, he had a feeling that life was going to get more and more ‘interesting’ as time went by.
“Well, if ye need it, then ye have it. Good luck, boyo,” The dwarf said before shoving him out of the shop.
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Lyam’s first meeting with the Duke’s daughter, Veha Nazrai, was on the morning before they were to depart. He met her in her receiving room in her manse, which lay in the ‘core’ district of Daena. It was a simple room, with dark wood paneling on the walls and two bookshelves standing behind the large desk the half-Dragonkin woman sat at.
Her eyes as she observed him were cool but not antagonistic. She had examined him upon his entrance, briefly causing Lyam’s core self to flare with anger, but that anger had faded even without the need to partition it into one of his sub-personas or awaken his colder side. He knew he should have expected it, as it was not a breach of protocol for a noble to examine a commoner visiting them in their own sanctum, from what he had read in the Association’s library.
“So you are Lyam Aldren? An interesting Class you have there. I imagine you will be highly valued by the lord who manages to retain your services once you get to a high enough level to master its transportation spells,” She remarked. There was an underlying assumption that he would eventually end up in service to a noble, both in her words and their intent.
Veha wasn’t arrogant as the nobility went. She had met many individuals who humbled any aristocrat born and bred in terms of personal power and even political clout. However, she shared the assumption that those who picked Classes with transport powers intended to make them available for a price to those more powerful than themselves.
It wasn’t an unreasonable assumption. Most people were stuck with rare Classes, at best, before Level 50. She had assumed that he had gained a highly-specialized Class with a narrow focus on transport spells, as the idea of someone not raised in a noble house gaining access to an epic Class so early was simply incomprehensible to her.
For all her intelligence, Veha was still young… young enough that she had not met anyone newly arisen from the survivors of a Sublimation. Otherwise, she would not have made the assumptions she did.
Lyam chose not to remark on her arrogant assumption. He had no intention whatsoever of tying himself down to a single city or region, but he saw no reason to antagonize the daughter of a being as powerful as the Duke at this point.
“I hope to be of use, since the Duke has given the order that I accompany you,” He replied simply. The idea of serving as a go-between with Earthling survivors didn’t really appeal to him, especially with the bunny constantly following him around. However, his instincts told him that antagonizing the Duke would cost him dearly.
“I do not understand my father’s reasons, but I do not need to, in truth. As you are under orders, as I am, I will confide in you that this is probably a test, for me if not for both of us. There are probably difficulties waiting ahead that he has chosen not to confide in me or those under my command. As such, in emergencies, I will require you to use what magic and abilities you have in service of the expedition’s survival,” Her words were reasonable. However, they were also meant to put Lyam firmly under her personal authority as leader of the expedition, as opposed to someone attached to the expedition and only subject to the written content of his mission from the Association.
Lyam decided it was better to obey, in this case. However, he did need to make one thing clear to her, “I am fine with obeying your orders or those of your commander in battle. However, once the Akibahara expedition is over, I will be leaving without returning to Daena.”
Her eyes widened slightly in surprise before narrowing, her expression becoming inscrutable, “Oh? I do not believe my father put any such limits on the mission?”
He smiled slightly, “He also delegated responsibility to you for how long this mission would go on, did he not?”
The ‘contract’ (which was more like a one-sided command) merely stated that his services as a liaison with the survivors of the Akibahara Zone would be retained by the expedition until such a time they were no longer needed, to be decided by the expedition leader. As such, she had the authority to decide when the mission would end, though it would cost her credits from her budget for every day it went on.
Lyam had shoved all his belongings into a dimensional pouch on his right hip, so he wouldn’t have to leave anything in Daena. The decision not to return once the mission was over was one he had made as soon as he got the contract in hand. Since he already had the attention of someone in power, it was imperative to him that he leave the Duke’s aegis as soon as possible.
Urgo had argued with him, and Lyam regretted not getting to know the Drow librarian better. However, the feeling that remaining in Daena would take away his freedom was too strong.
She considered him for several minutes, completely silent as she mulled over his words, his actions, and his expressions. There was something odd about this man. His manner, his words, and his actions all spoke of someone who was far more intelligent and perceptive than she would have expected. Moreover, her examination had revealed very little about him, showing that he had surprisingly good aura control for his level. She almost wished she had a vision skill or spell that would let her view his aura, but she was not a true mage, her Classes mostly revolving around command, management, and leadership at her mother’s suggestion.
The worst part was that she was fairly sure her father had altered his dossier before sending it to her, removing information that would make it easier for her to decide. This was fairly typical of her father’s ‘tests’, but she was growing weary of the way he treated everything as an educational opportunity.
In the end though, she could only conclude that the Saevere, whatever that was, was unlikely to be integral to the future success of her expedition after they had established a relationship with the enclave. It would be easy enough to hire a go-between from the enclave itself when the time came, in any case.
“Very well. For the purposes of your employment, you will be released from service after we have successfully established relations with the enclave in the new Zones,” She assented.
“My thanks,” He said, bowing his head slightly in deference to his new employer.
It was a novel experience, since he had never actually met any of his employers in person before the Sublimation. There was no need, since it only created vulnerabilities on both sides, and he always refused those who wanted to meet him.
Veha was satisfied. While it was something of a roll of the dice to make assumptions about her father’s intentions, the truth was that she did not want to rely on an unknown she hadn’t vetted herself for any longer than she had to. Her subordinates on the military side would be bad enough, considering their leader.
“Who should I go to to be assigned a place in the expedition?” He asked, now that the nasty political aspect of the business was over with.
“See Dugrit in the black marble manse down the street. He is in control of the defense of the expedition. Until we arrive at the enclave, there is no need for a liaison, after all,” She said, dismissing him.
He bowed slightly before turning around and leaving the room behind.
____________________________________________________________
Dugrit Forsaias looked down at Lyam from a golden throne atop a black marble dais, his arrogant crimson eyes dismissive of the young Saevere.
“I see, so you have agreed to help with the defense… Since your abilities are suited for a fast-moving scout, I will assign you to my ranger captain, Nezz,” He looked at another Night Elf in leather armor to his left, the other’s pitch black skin marred by thick whorls and patches of scar tissue on every exposed inch of skin.
The scarred elf stepped forward and gestured for Lyam to follow, ignoring the rabbit in black battle robes behind him. Lyam had taken the time over the past week to teach the bunny to temper her enthusiasm and whining.
It was surprisingly effective, as apparently the soul familiar bond made her personality extremely malleable when interacting with him. He was also teaching her to speak aloud, with mixed results. So far, the best she was able to do was ask for food and indicate a positive or negative response with a ‘yes’ or ‘no’. She understood the language due to the System’s aid, but she had no real ability to speak, since rabbits didn’t have a language of their own.
Her eyes were focused on the Night Elf intently, observing to see whether he was a threat or not. Lyam’s own look at the man’s aura said he was probably around level 80, based on the weakness of his cultivation versus his surprisingly powerful body. It was likely the man had little to no interest in magic beyond some very restricted abilities and spells, considering the low density of his mana.
As they walked through the manse, Nezz spoke softly, “My apologies for my master’s rudeness. He believes the Duke is using this opportunity to distance himself from our clan and weaken our influence in his court.”
Lyam shook his head, denying the Night Elf’s assumption of offense on his part, “I am not offended. Men of power usually have their reasons for acting the way he did, and I am not about to take offense until he actually causes me harm.”
“Thank you,” He said, giving Lyam a brief smile that showed the warmth hidden behind his scarred mien.
“You have a good stealth abilities, from what my master transmitted to me by telepathy. However, what of your woodcraft?” Nezz queried.
Lyam gave a small smile of his own and shook his head, “Beyond using psychokinesis to remain in the treetops, I am afraid I am an amateur at traversing the forest.”
“Hmm… that is somewhat troubling, but being able to remain in the treetops will make you a decent candidate for overwatch duty. Can you use a bow?” He asked thoughtfully.
“Only at a very basic level. On Earth, bows had mostly fallen out of use in favor of firearms. I do have several attack spells that can be fired at a distance, including one that is completely silent,” He informed him.
“Oh? Which one?”
“Crush.”
The elf winced, “That… is a nasty one. What is your range?”
“Two hundred feet seems to be the extent of my range without concentrating. If I have time to focus, I can probably triple that,” Lyam replied. Learning the full range of his spells had been part of his training since emerging from the Challenge Dungeon.
His Gravity Arrow spell had a range of three kilometers when charged to max capacity, but that ate through two-thirds of his MP, even now. It also was not silent when charged to that degree, as the ripping sound it made when passing through the air became louder the more it was charged. The Annihilation Codex only had a range of about seventy feet before charging the spell would no longer extend its range. His other, more recently acquired spells were both loud and had a somewhat limited range at his current proficiency with their schools of magic.
“Decent… not great, but good enough for some quiet work. I am assuming you know how to handle sentries?” The Night Elf asked thoughtfully.
“I do have some experience with that kind of work,” He admitted. Not all his targets had been conveniently located in an urban environment or used high tech defenses. Sentry elimination was a basic technique for any halfway decent assassin, and Lyam had been one of the best. He even had a garrote in his bag made from mithril wire to help.
“Very well, I will have you work with me from above while I move through the area at ground level. Since they are not familiar with you, having you join another of my squads would be counterproductive, as they tend to be tight-knit groups,” He said after considering for a few minutes as they strolled through the corridors of the manse.
“As you wish, Captain,” Lyam replied firmly.
He felt they would work well together, and he was happy that at least not everything about the expedition would be a nuisance.
___________________________________________________________________
Odin, once known as the Allfather, was sitting on his throne in the Eiffel Tower, floating in space around the massive (roughly half the size of the Sol System if one didn’t include the Oort Cloud) planet of the First Realm of the System. The loss of Asgard was particularly painful now, with his champions all trapped in the massive, seven-hundred square kilometer super-dungeon lying inside the expanded monument. Without Valhalla, there was nowhere for his champions to go when they died, and so he was forced to keep them trapped within the dungeon until someone called on him from the surface of the planet.
Damn you, Loki! He snarled internally. Originally, he had intended to spread his champions to all corners of the world, so as to immediately increase his power and number of followers after the Sublimation, securing himself a position as a Higher Deity. Unfortunately, his intentions went to waste when his chaotic adoptive son had used various means to lure his most capable followers to the Tower on the day of the event before launching it into space ‘on a lark’.
As a result, his power on the massive megaplanet’s surface was beyond minimal… whereas his power over the new dungeon was supreme, to the point of completely superseding that of the dungeon core originally assigned to create it. It was fast becoming a world of its own, as denizens of the surface gleefully jumped into the transport circles he made it form on the planet in search of wealth and power.
However, being bound to a mostly isolated piece of real estate in space was not his desire. Moreover, the greedy men, women, and other beings raiding the dungeon were not the type of people he preferred as followers. Only a few were worthy and most of those already had a patron.
Not that being a dungeon master was boring… it wasn’t. Setting up challenges for the adventurers entering the Tower and those venturing out of the Earthling Enclaves on the middle levels had become an enjoyable pastime for him. It was almost as good as setting armies of Einherjar against one another on the battlefields of Valhalla.
The problem was the knowledge that his followers were all… weak compared to those of the other members of his pantheon that had survived until the Sublimation. Loki’s toys were all climbing in levels at a rapid pace, Thor’s chosen were more hit and miss but were still higher level than Odin’s due to the limitations Odin was working under.
The Eiffel Tower was set up for individuals between level 50 and 100, for reasons that Odin had been unable to figure out. The survivors of the Tower’s ‘launch’ originally numbered around five hundred but had been reduced to seventy-nine, the survivors barely eking out an existence by ganging up on ‘strays’ from the lowest-level areas. The highest level in their number was 27, which meant even their highest level individual couldn’t safely challenge even the lowest level of the dungeon alone.
Odin had plans to get his people out of the dungeon, but they would take time… more time than he would have liked. Until then, he would keep himself busy by arranging challenges and considering how he would extract his pound of flesh from Loki’s hide.
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An Excerpt from the Schools of Magic, an Explanation for the Ignorant.
The System splits schools of magic into three tiers, racial, idiosyncratic, and celestial magic. The three tiers and celestial magic are often referred to as the ‘Ladder of Magic Mastery’, as they are intimately related to one another.
Many people think that the tiers of magic represent a pure increase in raw power between tiers, but this is not exactly correct. Higher tiers of magic are rated so by their inherent complexity and the degree to which they alter reality.
Elemental magics are universally of the 1st Tier, as is Nature and Force Magic. The reason is simple… the magics require less knowledge and are more intuitive than those of the next Tier. All the related powers are both visibly present in the world around them and easily observable. It is sometimes argued that nature magic should be in the 2nd Tier due to its somewhat ephemeral nature, but the System is clear that it is not.
2nd Tier Magic is defined by simple if esoteric concepts and forces. It includes Gravity, Null, Holy, Corruption, Death, Life, Spirit, Flesh, and Blood Magics. A greater fundamental understanding is required to increase the related skills compared to those of 1st Tier schools, and you begin to see psychological effects on those who use certain schools of this Tier. Users of Corruption, Death, and Blood Magic are often drawn to indulge their worst impulses, whereas users of Null, Holy, and Spirit Magic tend to become focused and overzealous in the pursuit of causes or their chosen purpose. Only Gravity, Life and Flesh Magics, of the 2nd Tier, have proven to have only minimal effects on the psyche of their users.
So it is that, in the 3rd Tier, it is not uncommon to see individuals become corrupted or altered by simply using a single spell from the school. The known 3rd Tier Schools are Eldritch, Necromancy, Soul, and Divine Magic. Eldritch Magic and Necromancy corrupt the soul and mind of their users, with the former causing madness and the latter causing an ongoing obsession with overcoming death or extinguishing life. Divine Magic, which can only be gained by achieving divine status or becoming a follower of a deity, binds the user to the aegis and thought patterns of the deity they gain their power from, gradually reducing the agency of the individual in question. Soul Magic is less predictable than the other three, in that in some individuals it will have no effects and in others it will show extreme ones.
Celestial Magic is where the requirements for mastery become stringent to the point where one actually needs their Class and/or Cultivation to match the school they are trying to master. The Schools of Celestial Magic are Dimensional, Astral, Chaos, Order, Creation, and Destruction. Unlike the Tiered magic schools, Celestial Magic’s effects on the spirit are subtle and difficult to recognize. Dimensional and Astral magic have few observable effects on the users, whereas the remaining four can forcibly change the soul alignment and thought patterns of an individual after only a single casting if one hasn’t taken precautions.
To avoid those effects, spellcasters are often advised to deliberately utilize schools of opposing alignment in a balanced manner, as the unique energies given off by mana expended in using their spells negate one another and the traces left in the users’ body and soul.
The next chapter will speak of the utility of Ritual Magic and the pitfalls of its use…