My guides were quiet as they led me inside the building. An interior decorated with vines and foliage met my gaze. The expertly cared for foliage was wrapped around doorways, pillars, and statues. It made the place feel like it was an extension of the forest rather than a shelter from it. Thinking back on my experience with an elven merchant and her bonded elemental, it very well could be.
We passed through a hallway and stepped into an open hall. White flowers that glowed silver illuminated the room in a comfortable light. Inside was a throng of people on both sides of the room with a clear path down the middle. Elven nobles dressed in finery watched as I followed the brothers from the entrance way and along the path. Guards were stationed by the entranceway, along the walls of the hall, and at the end of the path ahead. Their armour gleamed silver. The centerpiece of the room was a tree shaped into a throne the colour of charcoal, raised up by a circular garden. Vines with colourful flowers entwined the treeseat glowed a deep orange. Looking downwards from the living throne, sat Zelphar.
He watched the proceedings with his trademark, too pleased with himself, smile. As I stepped closer, his smile widened even further. The glowing light from the flowers around him changed from a deep orange to green flecked with purple.
Syllex gestured for me to stand in the clearing before the garden. He then turned to the gathered crowd of elves.
“Hello, friends and family. May I introduce you all to Reigner… uh” he turns to me and whispers, “Do you have a last name or title, perhaps?”
I shook my head.
Turning back, he continued. “Reigner, the very one that the great seer seeks an audience with.”
Murmurs echoed and excited faces turned to each other.
“And the one responsible for bringing him here is non other than my cousin, Prince Zelphar of the Ashenwood Glade. The very same that now floats outside this tower over GorikTar City. Well done, Zelphar. Well done.”
Clapping and light applause filled the room. After a few seconds Syllex lifted his hands and the clapping stopped. He turned his attention to the throne.
“But the feat was not so simple. Was it cousin?” He took a moment to stare at Zelphar.
“No dear cousin. You have never been one to politely ask for something when you could just take. No. You demand the complete obedience of others you deem below you. And as a prince that includes just about everyone that is not your father.”
At Syllex’s words, Zelphar’s smug grin turned into a frown. The flowers behind him changed colour again, back towards the orange they glowed before.
“Instead of sending a friendly invitation to the newly reincarnated, you decided, to go… in person, to demand he return with you. Tell me, cousin. What happened when he refused you?”
The room was silent. Everyone watched Zelphar as the flowers behind him continued to change colour, this time turning to deep violet.
The smug smile returned as he peered down from the raised chair. “Well, as you know… I have never been one to rely on others.”
A few muffled giggles and chuckles sounded from the audience. A look of irritation passed over Zelphar, causing the flowers to flash red momentarily. “And so,” He continued with an edge to his voice “I decided to take matters into my own hands. And just look at the results.” He waved a lazy hand towards me. “I always succeed in my endeavors.”
Syllex nodded and paced in front of me. “Yes, but you did not succeed. Not at first. Your encounter on the first floor. A floor filled with the young and helpless might I add. Ended with the death of five adventurers. Three of which were our own people!”
It seemed like the elves were not as unified as I first thought. I couldn’t help but reevaluate Syllex, it sounded like he was not as friendly towards his cousin as I first thought. He no longer looked like the simple pleasure obsessed pampered elf I shared a carriage ride with.
Zelphar raised his hands defensively, his eyes wide. The flowers behind him turned light pink. “I was as shocked as you, cousin. Who would have thought that one of my father’s men would kill on such a floor.”
Syllex stopped his pacing to stare at Zelphar. “Don’t insult me. We both know the reports don’t share the full story… That aside, they were not the only lives lost in your pursuit of the seer’s favour.”
The flowers changed to yellow.
Syllex let out a small laugh. “What? Didn’t think I would discover what happened outside the boundaries of the baby floors?”
Syllex’s hands clenched into fists and anger flowed into his words. “More deaths of our people for your greed. Centuries of potential lost due to your obsession.” He sneered the word. “And all you were punished with was a short term ban from the tower and a slap on the wrist from your father… Are you proud, cousin?”
He gestured towards me. “Here is the man you forced to come here, under threat for the lives of his friends. What now that he is here? Will you honour your agreement?”
Syllex gestured to the guard holding Burin, and he moved forward to place the unconscious dwarf in the centre of the clearing. A wave of fire flowed around my friend’s body. Murmurs sounded from the spectators around us.
Zelphar sneered and stood up from the throne. The flowers changed to a dull yellow as he stepped down the garden. “The Ashenwood elves are a glade of warriors. We are not politicians that can twist meanings and hide truths.” He sneered at his cousin. “That’s something closer to your purview. Since when has our word fallen so low?”
He now stood over Burin and extended his hand over the prone form. He looked at me and pulled his hand back, a small smile on his lips. “But before I remove the curse, I have a question for you, Carnate.”
He stepped over Burin to stand in front of me. “What are you?” He asked in a stage whisper. “I thought it a fluke that you managed to injure me. But it was not a one time occurrence. That cannot be a coincidence.”
He started pacing around me. “Once I returned, I scoured the library for information about your abilities… and found very little.” He lifted a finger to the air. “But I was notified about an artifact in our treasury!” He pulled out a scroll with a small blade on one end and tried to stab me with it by surprise.
I stepped to the side, causing him to stumble past.
“Zelphar!” Syllex moved in front of his cousin.
Guards move forward, one of them stepping on Burin's prone form to grab not Zelphar, but me by the arms and shoulders. I watched my friend as he lay on the ground, a clear boot print marring his shoulder.
Fury built inside me. My body yearned to perform what it was best at. Fortunately for those around me, Burin’s life was the only thing preventing me from slaughtering the gathered elves around me.
“You mean to kill in my home? On this floor?” Syllex growled.
“Kill?” Zelphar let out a small chuckle. “No. I only need a drop of blood for this relic to list all his previous classes. I must admit he certainly is quick on his feet. Even with the collar.”
“The Scroll of paths? You don’t need to do that.” Faelen cut in. “He told us what he did back on Earth on our way over. He was a mercenary. A specialist.”
“A mercenary.” Zelphar repeated as he ran a hand through his long red hair.
Syllex placed a hand on his shoulder and turned him back towards Burin. “See, no need to stab a guest in the middle of such a gathering. You have frightened everyone here.”
“Funny. I don’t remember inviting them!” On his last word, Zelphar turned and backhanded me across my face. I went to move, but the two guards slowed me down enough for the hit to hand. A line of heat ran from my cheek to just under my bottom lip.
Zelphar flashed a smile and brought up a hand filled with rings, one of which had a gem that held a drop of my blood. He stepped back and brought the bloody bead to the scroll’s blade.
He then tossed the scroll to Faelen. “Check for us, cousin. While I…” He gave a pointed look towards Syllex. “Honour my word.”
He stood above Burin and extended his hand over his form. The tone in his voice made me think he was going to hurt my friend even more and I took a step forwards, causing the two holding me to stumble as they were dragged forwards. The burning flames removed themselves from Burin a moment later and were absorbed by Zelphar’s hand. Checking on Burin’s health through the ring told me that his health was no longer decreasing.
“I’m surprised you managed to find your dirt friend.” Zelphar commented over his shoulder. “You must have the luck of the tower on your side.”
He bent over Burin. “Wake up now, little mole.” I tensed, causing the two guards next to me to stumble awkwardly again.
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“I said wake up!” Zelphar slapped Burin across the face, causing him to cough and flounder on the floor.
“See?” Zelphar asked no one. “I have a healer's touch.”
Syllex moved to stand between my waking friend and the soon to be dead elf. “Zelphar. You go too far. If you continue any further, I will summon Elder Felic.”
Zelphar’s face twisted in disgust. “You would call grandfather? What can an ancient like him do here?”
“You forget your place, cousin. What do you think would happen if an Elder was forced to leave his seclusion to learn of your events? Do you think he would be pleased? Give me the key to the binding artifact you locked that girl in. You are lucky our fathers are so close. He and the seer are paying a visit to your father.”
“Reigner?” Burin voice sounded out confused but alive from the floor.
Relief rushed through me at the sound of his voice.
“Hey buddy, how you feeling?”
He looked around the room and the gathered people with a confused look on his face. “W-What’s going on?”
Syllex leaned down and helped Burin to his feet. “Hello little friend. Take this.” He placed a key into Burin’s hand. “and go to the tower and to it on your furry friend.”
Burin’s face twisted angrily upon realizing where he was. When his eyes landed on Zelphar, he screamed.
“I’ll kill you!” He rushed towards the elf.
A lazy backhanded slap from Zelphar sent him sliding backwards on the smooth wooden flooring.
“You two!” Sylex barked at the two guards holding me. “Let go of him and escort our small friend to the tower. If any more harm comes to him, I’ll personally make sure things won’t go well for either of you.”
My arms were released, and they moved to obey. My hand reached out and stopped the one that stepped on Burin. He looked back at me with a sneer and tried to break free, I held tight for a moment and did not say anything. Just made a mental note of his face before letting go. He stumbled forwards with a grimace.
I watched as Burin was pulled away by his elbows. He struggled against the guards, his legs flailing under him, and continued to look back towards me while cursing everyone around him. Faelen walked by him, offering words of encouragement.
I felt as calm as oncoming thunder as I watched my friend move to safety. Away from me.
It only took me a few steps until I was face to face with Zelphar. That smug grin glued to his face. The kind of expression that would even make a pacifist monk secluded on top of a mountain dream of violence. I was no pacifist, and I was way past a dream of violence.
I grabbed hold of his collar with my left hand, positioning him in front of me, and raised back my other with an open palm. I had no words, no banter or one liner. The only thing I wanted from this man, was his death.
“What?” he asked. “Want to hit me?” He let out a condescending laugh. “Just try it. Without access to your mana you will break…”
His words were interrupted as I brought down my palm and slapped him across the face with all the fury and anger that had built up inside me since first laying eyes on the elf.
The feeling of my hand passing through his head and upper shoulder was akin to jello. His smug smile, along with the top half of his body turned to pink mist. Blood and gore covered Syllex, the throne, and the small garden that raised it.
Experience gained.
+1 Strength.
Level up!
Trait Unlocked!
Skill Gained!
Spell Gained.
Level up!
Level up!
Level up!
Level up!
15 attribute points gained.
Sleep or meditation required.
What was left of Zelphar’s body collapsed to the ground at my feet and I let the scrap of cloth that was his robe flitter down from my hand.
Screams and cries of alarm erupted all around me. The hall exploded into movement. Elves rushed to leave, pushing against each other in their panic. Guards from all over the hall moved towards me, their weapons drawn. Grail, Syllex’s protector, took him by the shoulder and pulled him out of sight.
I reached up, forced my fingers around the mana cutter on my neck and pulled… The eyes of the nearest guards went wide as the cursed collar shattered to pieces around my neck.
The closest guard moved faster than I could summon a weapon, so instead, I took his sword from his now broken hand and used it to deflect the attack from the second.
I laughed in rage and my body danced in joy in its bloody dance. I felt free in the battle and for a moment wondered why I had ever stopped.
Spears and swords slashed and stabbed out towards me, missing me by millimetres. Their armour was sturdy enough that my blows were not fatal. Any time I went to finish an elf, my blows were blocked or parried by those next to them. More elves joined the fun from outside, ones much faster and stronger than the ceremonial chaff that had attacked me until now.
I danced on the bodies of unconscious foes and laughed in both joy and rage as more and more elves came to receive my blessings. The hall turned into a disco as more and more people came to join me in my crimson dance. Shock ran through me when a kick to my back strong enough to break me from my reverie interrupted me. More and more strikes started to land, forcing me to adapt.
I noticed a change in the battle and glanced over my shoulder to see a reflection of myself nodding towards me. Confusion hit me for a split second before remembering where I was. Mirth filled me, I will never have to fight alone again. My shadow returned my grin as we broke our dance partners, letting them fall and rest with their kin.
More and more opponents, both stronger and faster, filled the ever tightening hall. At a certain point in my second life in the dark tunnels of the tower, I stopped caring about overwhelming odds. Be it the difference in stats, the number of people charging towards me, or the seemingly insurmountable tasks placed upon me. I was unbeatable.
However, it was different now. No longer was I the peerless hero I once was. Despite all that, for the first time since arriving in this world, I felt at home, in my element. In the place I was created to be. A world of violence was what I lived, ate, and breathed. Dark cramped passageways filled with terrifying creatures where violence was the only way to survive. Unfortunately for the elves surrounding me, I was very, very good at violence.
But despite my excellence in battle, I noticed that I was getting worn down. My rib’s cracked, my fingers broke, and dozens of shallow cuts covered my body. But all of that was pushed to the back of my mind. At the forefront lay only the bloody dance... For stopping, meant death.
I felt it when my shadow died. His death sent a shock of pain through my body, taking half my health, stamina, and mana on his leaving. Even though my shadow was stronger and faster than I was, it meant nothing when skill ranks bound his ability.
The loss of my shadow changed the tide, and I soon found myself falling to my knees, vomiting blood onto the carpet of broken and unconscious elves. My hands felt heavy, and my hands no longer followed my commands, looking down I saw that my fingers now pointed in odd directions. For the first in a long time, I felt exhausted.
The room was filled with blood splattered elven guards. The ones wearing silver lay underfoot, while the ones standing upright wore suits of green and obsidian. They kept their distance from me after slaying my copy and seeing me fall to my knees. Out of respect or fear, I couldn’t tell.
I took in ragged breaths of air as strings of blood oozed from my many wounds. I never thought I could be beaten down to such an extent. I let out a laugh at my current situation, sending strings of blood to fly from my mouth. My laughter turned into a coughing fit that caused even more of my blood to join the rivulets flowing over the pile of unconscious elves. Respect when respect due, I had to give it to them. They managed to completely stop me from taking another life here. Who knew what would have happened if I managed to refresh myself from a level up. I let out a tried sigh. To think, I would find my end here.
Still it was not too bad.
I looked down at my broken hands and smiled as I made them sparkle. Delighted, even now, at the simple joy of being able to cast magic. I was so excited when I found that item. My personal salvation from a bleak world, answered in the form of the class changing book.
Someone yelled something from behind the mass of elves before me. I couldn’t focus on the words. The armoured warriors watched me carefully as I continued to bleed out. They kept their distance, despite me resting on my knees. They only needed to tap me, and I would have fallen.
The sparkles in my hand disappeared and were replaced by a conjured sword. I managed to grip it between two working fingers. I was happy that I got to experience what magic was like, even if it was only this much. Spitting out the blood in my mouth, I pushed myself back to my feet and took a shaky step forward. I was too slow and exhausted to dodge the blunt end of a pike that filled my vision and sent me into darkness.
Surprisingly, I woke up. My lower back felt like it was on fire. I was outside now, surrounded by the red and obsidian armoured elves walking next to me. Behind and above them moved the tall trees of the forest that stretched high up into the sky. Someone behind me had a solid grip on my hair and was dragging me.
Surprisingly my clothing looked fine. The robes of shifting sand were not sliced to ribbons, as my skin felt underneath, and were completely unstained. Though the same could not be said for me. Blood oozed from a dozen cuts and stabs that littered my body.
I couldn't see where we were going, but I could see from where we had come. My body acted like an artist’s brush and had painted a crimson path that stretched and winded back between trees in the distance.
“I can’t believe it.” Faelen muttered from my right. “I just saw it happen and still can’t believe it.”
The familiar elf was walking next to me, holding something out above me.
“Zelphar brought a demon to our house.” Replied Syllex, standing on my other side. He looked me over me as we moved. “Make sure he doesn’t bleed to death.”
Cool relief splashed over me as Faelen poured liquid over me. “Easier said than done, this is the third potion I’ve had to use. He needs a healer.”
Faelen’s eyes met mine and he stumbled. He cursed in surprise. And after a moment stated in a calm voice, “He’s awake.”
“Already? He’s like a steelbark.” Syllex moved so he could look me in the eyes. “Don’t bother resisting. We are taking you to see the Elder. Even though I might not have liked him, you killed in our grove. You will be judged for killing Zelphar.”
I had no energy to lift an arm, let alone resist. The ground scraped and scratched me though the robe, fortunately, they protected most of my injuries from the dirt. Normally I would be furious at being dragged along like this, and I would have been, if I had enough energy to pull my thoughts together. My world currently consisted of three things, sound, light, and pain.
After a moment I realised Faelen was asking me questions.
“Why did you stay and fight when you could have fled? How did you kill my cousin? Why did you not kill the guards? How were there two of you?”
“Slow down, brother.” Said Syllex. “He can hardly move, let alone talk. Let’s see what Grandfather says.”
I’m not sure how long I was dragged along as I kept fading in and out of consciousness. After some time though there was a change. An oppressive feeling overcame me, and a heavy weight blanketed over me, pressing me to the ground.
Syllex, his brother, and every armoured elf in sight fell to their knees around me. Gravity magnified and I was pulled tight against the hard forest floor. Some were struggling against the force. A few managed to stay upright on one knee. Everyone else joined me on the ground, our faces cradled by the forest floor.
“Who dares…” Syllex struggled to say as he tried to push himself up from his hands and knees.
Between blinks a man appeared before me and towered over my prone form. Slightly greying hair tied back, leaving clear and determined eyes that peered at everything around him. A deep blue robe in the style of a Japanese samurai wrapped his form. A sword unsheathed by his side that felt so sharp that instinct warned me to avoid looking directly at the naked blade.
The hero had arrived. His eyes locked onto my own.
He his words might have been soft, but they reverberated through my body when he spoke. “What the fuck is going on here?”
Darkness overtook me.