Profane Acolyte: The Profane Order sought to merge all three mortal energies back to their original form. Seeking to grasp that which was not meant for mortals and claim divinity for themselves. Through a glimpse of the Divine Runes, the founder of the order came to believe Divine Energy was something he could grasp. Thus, by studying runes, our wise founder sought to meet his goals. Their goals have become your goal. Acolytes are the ones who have taken their first step towards securing the Order's greatest dream. Delving deeper into the mastery of enchantments woven with all three base energies they seek to create the divine and claim it for the order.
Dren paused to consider that information. Some of it was the same as what his Profane Blade spoke of. Word for word even. But the description of this profession's role in the order was far different, less sinister sounding. Maybe the Profane Order wasn’t some evil cult after all. Not that Dren really cared all that much about its origins. It wasn’t like he was signing up for some cult in actuality. For all he knew this was all stuff made up by the system as some sort of flavor text to the skills. He hadn’t ever heard of this Profane Order. Not in all his years… bedbound… living on a backwater planet long forgotten by the system. So it probably didn’t exist. Probably. Anyways, it was still an enchanter class that was unsurprisingly one that focused on the profane runes that used all three resources instead of just mana. The real question was, was it better than staying a basic enchanter?
Turning his attention back to the system menu he examined what he would get and his brows knit in slight annoyance. He could pick two of his basic runes to make into profane ones. Meaning all his work trying to upgrade them had been somewhat pointless. He was almost glad he hadn’t actually upgraded one or he would have been aggravated. Imagine if he had grinded all that effort and finally gotten one of his most useful runes to upgrade on the last disenchant? It would have been infuriating. As he would turn around and just turn it into a more powerful Profane Rune.
He would probably not even use normal runes anymore. This was because of the second perk. All Profane Runes used up a greatly reduced amount of the capacity of an item when enchanting with them. They even gained the chance to have upgraded abilities if applied to a properly imbued item. Meaning if he took the time to imbue the materials for an item before enchanting it, he would get bonuses. Perhaps things like his mask had gotten. There was a downside to the class though. Any none Profane Runes would be penalized. Being both weaker and using up more of the capacity of an item.
Something about the wording made him think there were other ways to turn normal runes into profane ones. But he couldn’t be sure. Would he get to pick more profane runes when he got a profession perk every five levels? Or would he still only have the basic ones?
Shaking his head when he didn’t get any sort of information or innate knowledge from the system to answer his question, he turned back to the menu. “Stats? How about the stats?” Reading the bonuses he let out a low whistle. Five intelligence, endurance, and vitality, just like his profane blade class. But it also came with ten to spirit per level. That was even more raw stats than his class gave. Dren almost wished he had taken a mage class now. The amount of raw intelligence he was getting was more than the attributes that impacted his damage potential.
“I need to find me a dragon!” That would help close some of the gaps. Although, as he thought about it most of his big damage attacks relied either on the high damage multiplier of a crit attack. Or his maximum resource pool amounts. Maybe this wasn’t such a big deal.
Glancing at the base enchanter class, he took one look at the pitiful attributes provided per level before selecting the Profane Acolyte without bothering to read more. Studying his attributes it appeared he was still getting his plus two to attributes for levels in both class and profession from both his affinity and his essence. It also seemed to track his one to all attributes bonus for every five levels cumulative with his first classes levels. With all his odd bonuses his vitality and endurance were pulling quite a bit ahead of the others. While spirit was currently lagging behind, with a few profession levels that would start passing up the others.
Blowing out a breath he closed all his menus. His brain was almost as mushy as if he had suffered another of the bat's sonic attacks. Part of him wanted to dive right into enchanting again. To see what new perks he could wrangle out of his profane runes. Or how big the reduction was. But there was one problem. Whatever Ren was cooking smelled so damn good he couldn’t focus anymore.
“Ok, I can’t take it. What are you cooking?” Dren eyed the Aranea who gave him an innocent “Who me?” look. But couldn’t quite hide the happy smile she had. There was a clay pot he had picked up in his shopping sitting on a new campfire of the same ever burning torches from so long ago. Opening it she slowly pulled out some small dumpling-looking items before placing them in a shallow bowl. Then carefully pouring a sauce from a second smaller pot over them. Dren identified it and his brow raised, this was far more complex than he expected.
“Unnamed Creation: Assorted meat and Ambrosia Lotus Roots minced together then wrapped in Ambrosia Lotus Petals and Leaves before being steamed. Smothered in a spiced Ambrosia Sauce. Attribute bonus: All attributes plus five. All resource regeneration increased by twenty percent. Duration eighteen hours.”
“Holy… You have come a long way from just charring meat on a broken sword. What level is your cooking now?” Knowing he wouldn’t get an answer from Ren, his only option was to check her status. “Expert Cooking? You hit a whole new tier? Wait, Level seventeen? Geez, slow down so I can catch up!” He teased but was really excited. Ren being able to level both from combat and skill gains meant she could easily pull ahead. Not to mention she only had her monster race to level up, where he had a class and profession. Even if she had missed out on all the experience from the monster surge it was to be expected.
Spearing one of the little dumplings or should he think of them as little wrapped meatballs? Dren didn’t care as they smelled great no matter what they were called. He shoved one into his mouth while examining Ren’s stats. “Oooh oooh oooh.” He blew out puffs of air to cool the hot food as it burned his mouth. But even as it did he felt his mouth feeling with salvia from the sheer exquisite taste of the food. The sauce was mildly sweet like the ambrosia but carried a strong brothy meat taste as well as spices he had no name for. It was salty, sweet, spicy, and richly savory at the same time. While the actual dumpling or meatball was juicy with a strong gamey taste from the monster meat used that was softened by a nutty sweetness from the lotus root. Overall, it was the best food Dren had ever tasted and well worth burning his tongue to enjoy. Besides, his toughness was too high for it to do any real damage.
Forgetting what he was doing he started shoveling one delicious bite after another into his mouth. Noisly devouring the hot food while trying to both breathe out to avoid burning himself and not slobbering all over from the amount of drool the delicacy caused his mouth to continuously make. For her part Ren just watched him, all eight eyes slightly wide at his odd behavior. “Don’t look at me like that.” He managed to get out around a mouthful of hot food. “You made it taste too good!”
Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work!
Ren gave a genuine smile and clapped her hands together excitedly in a rare show of open emotion.
After wolfing down the small bowl Dren was beyond stuffed. As his attributes went up he needed more food to sustain his more powerful body. Yet, some how the cooking skill increased the sustenance a meal provided to the point that Ren’s skill allowed a small bowl to completely stuff him. Still, he ate a second. His aching stomach almost made him regret it. But considering he was still occasionally dipping his finger in the sauce left over at the bottom of his bowl and sucking it off his finger, he obviously didn’t regret it too much.
Groaning he slumped back against the earthen wall. Full to bursting and exhausted from fighting he couldn’t resist drifting off to sleep. Even as he watched Ren swap her cooking supplies for her smithing set up. “It must be nice to not need to sleep ever.” He muttered before passing out.
*****
“Stop that.” Dren pushed at the hand tousling his messy hair. But his frail arms lacked the strength to stop them. “You’re such an ass! Mom! Aler is being an ass.”
His mother poked her head in to scowl at her sons. “Dren. How many times have I told you not to swear.” She turned her glare on her oldest. “This is all your doing. He has the foulest mouth thanks to you and your stories.”
“Oh come on Mom! I just shared a few stories about my job.” Aler said while still mussing his little brother's hair, a charming smile on his face.
Their mother gave him a searing look. Yet her oldest son’s smile never faltered. He did stop mussing his youngest sibling's hair. Her gaze softened “You know it is almost lunchtime. You could stay and eat. I can make your favorite even!” She gave him a tense smile.
“Sorry ma. I have to leave for my transport in just a few minutes. I was just saying my goodbyes to the hatchling.” He flashed his sibling a smirk and got back a scowl.
Their mother pressed her lips into a tight line but just nodded. “Very well.” She hesitated then added. “You know I don’t…”
Aler cut her off. “We have been over this. Let me say goodbye to my brother please, Mother.” Pressing her lips together she retreated out of the doorway. Leaning back to drape his frame over his brother Aler blew out a sigh.
“Get off me you fucking fatty you are squishing me.” Dren swatted at his brother's shoulder and tried to push him off.
“What's that? I can’t hear you. I’m busy keeping the hatchling warm so they can finally grow up. Oh wait, no you do that for the egg.” He snickered but sat up to turn to his brother with a kind smile.
Dren glared at him a moment before his face lost its anger. “So you are really leaving us?”
Aler rolled his eyes and reached over to poke Dren’s shallow cheek. “I’m not leaving you all. I’m going to become a proper dungeoneer. Can’t do that here, not with those greedy bastards in charge. Plus the money I can make is insane! I bet it will just take a few dungeons and I’ll be so wealthy I can get Mom and Dad a real class.” He smirked. “I might even get you one. If you behave.”
Dren grinned stupidly for most of it. But his expression fell at the end. “Getting me a class would be useless, a waste.”
Aler just rolled his eyes. “Fine, no class for the hatchling then. How about stories then? If you think the stories about being a bouncer at a tavern are great. Just imagine the things I will be able to tell you about after running my own dungeons. I’ll be just like your heroes from an integration.” His face turned into a sinister scowl and his voice deepened. “Or perhaps the big bad villain! Muwhahaha.”
It was Dren’s turn to roll his eye. “Yeah right. I’ll believe it when I see it.” There was a moment of silence between the two siblings. Then Dren spoke up. “Be careful out there. Mom and Dad would be really sad if you died in some dungeon chasing money for a stupid reason.”
Aler clutched his chest in feigned agony. “Just mom and dad? Not my dear sweet brother?”
Dren snickered. “Me? Be sad over you? Naw.” He smirked then grew serious. “You don’t need to do this for me. It would cost a fortune just to get a high level healer to come down here and you know they said that doesn’t mean they can fix me. Mom and Dad are really worried. They said almost all new wild dungeoneers die in the first year.”
Aler barked out a laugh. “You think I would risk my life for a pest like you?” Aler flopped back to lay across Dren as he rolled laughing before stopping while facing his sibling. “Besides, don’t you have any faith in your big brother?”
“Not really.” Dren answered with an annoyed face as his brother continued squishing him.
Aler hopped up to his feet and flexed as if to somehow instill confidence in his bedbound brother. “Well then, you will eat your words when I get back. Just you wait.”
Dren made a gagging sound. “Whatever.” There was another brief moment of silence. “Just be safe Aler.”
“Don’t be a downer. I’ll be back before you know it, Dren. You just finish growing up. I will need a lackey to tag along with me in the dungeon to fawn over my greatness. Perhaps shine my shoes. Fetch my drinks. Line up all the maidens demanding my skilled ministrations.” He cackled.
Dren gave him an exasperated look. “Aren’t you going to be late?”
“Shit!” Aler shouted causing his mother’s voice to call out in exasperation.
*****
Dren sat up and rolled his neck to ease the crick in it from sleeping against the earthen wall. It had been a while since he dreamed of home. “I wonder if Aler ever found out I disappeared?” He muttered before shaking his head free of the memories. Ren was sitting next to him weaving more thread. “We have work to do. Ready?” His aranea companion paused her thread spinning and nodded.
*****
Character Status
Name: Dren Race: Human (I) Class: Profane Blade (9) Profession: Profane Acolyte: (1) Health: 4175/4175 Stamina: 4175/4175 Mana: 3575/3575 Credits: 6,970 Agility 130 Dexterity 130 Endurance 167 Intelligence 143 Spirit 112 Strength 137 Toughness 137 Vitality 167 Dungeon Competency 60% Solo Dungeon Competency 50%