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Chapter 19: Level 6

Resolute, I delved into my inventory, swapping my secondary axe for the obsidian dagger. The unexpected lightness in my grip contrasted sharply with the customary heft of my axe. However, it was a change I embraced willingly, eager for a novel challenge. I was a barbarian now, wasn’t I, and barbarians thrived on the unpredictability of battle.

I quickly selected the dagger to claim it, transferring the item into my hand. Now, it was time to familiarize myself with this new blade, to grasp its speed and movement. A fresh challenge beckoned, and I was primed to meet it.

After swinging the dagger a few times, I checked my level. I had hit level 6 and was well into level 7. The Golem must have been worth quit a lot of experience. That was a pleasant surprise. It was in this moment that I realized I had ability points to spend, a lot of them. I had been so caught up in my new surroundings that I had completely missed my leveling notifications and had forgotten to check. I would have to rectify that now.

I decided to just put one point in everything until I had spent all of the points I had. I earned 5 ability points per level so I had 15 more to spend. After investing all my points I was left with the following:

Everett Level 6 Stormbreaker Barbarian

Strength: 18

Dexterity: 18

Constitution: 18

Intelligence: 17

Wisdom: 15

Charisma: 19

With a deep breath I confirmed my allocation. Almost immediately, the world around me seemed to pulse, echoing the transformation unfolding within. My muscles tightened and expanded subtly, the fibers woven denser, granting a foundation of increasing power. The sensation soon spread to my fingertips, igniting them with an electrifying tingle. The environment came into sharper focus as my reflexes honed, every movement flowing with newfound grace and precision.

The increase to my constitution manifested next. My entire being felt more dense, more substantial. As I took a step, the ground responded to my slightly augmented weight, as if acknowledging the fortress of resilience I was becoming.

But it wasn't just physical changes; my mind underwent its own metamorphosis. A torrent of insights rushed in, bestowing clarity where there was once confusion. Complex ideas and patterns connected effortlessly, amplifying my intelligence to levels I'd never imagined. Simultaneously, a serene wisdom settled over my thoughts, providing perspective and understanding to every decision and experience.

Finally, as I straightened my posture, an alluring aura enveloped me. The world seemed to gravitate toward this new magnetic force that radiated from my core. My voice, my gaze, my every gesture carried an influential charm, increasing my ability to navigate the intricacies of interaction and emotion.

I was overjoyed with the changes. I was thankful that my Stormbreaker class included so many attribute points per level. This would be a huge advantage for me over others with lesser allocations. With my newfound abilities I pressed forward, carving a route through the blazing wilderness towards the Infernal Coliseum. My journey led me into a confrontation with a band of Fire Salamanders. While not formidable adversaries, they were certainly irksome. Their fiery forms zigzagged, launching themselves at me in a disjointed attack.

An exasperated sigh escaped my lips as I tackled them individually, my newly acquired Obsidian Shard Dagger and my trusty Inferno's Fang Battle Axe swiftly dispatching the incendiary foes. While the skirmish wasn't particularly demanding, it was time-consuming, taking up more of my day than I'd have preferred.

Later, I encountered another pack of Emberwolves. I pondered whether these were remnants of the previous group I'd battled, or a separate pack altogether. Regardless, with the knowledge from our prior clash, I made quick work of them.

These minor battles rewarded me with an assortment of items—mana and health elixirs, sustenance, and credits. The accumulating credits, now close to 15000, brought an unexpected sense of accomplishment. I couldn't discern if this sum was substantial in the game's broader scope, but it stood as evidence of my journey and perseverance.

With those skirmishes behind me, my destination drew near. Three more days journeying through the Inferno Zone brought the total to six days navigating this demanding terrain. But finally, the settlement encircling the formidable Infernal Coliseum appeared before me. Reflecting on the obstacles I'd surmounted, I was content with the time I had taken.

Excitement bubbled within me at the prospect of another challenge. I felt the pull of the Infernal Coliseum, beckoning me closer. I was prepared—ready for another test, eager to discover the village's secrets, and, above all, primed to earn my entry into the Coliseum. My next adventure was on the horizon.

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I stepped into the sulfurous village, sandwiched between the fiery rage of the volcano and the serene blue expanse above. Gravel crunched under my boots, the sound stark against the unsettling silence that enveloped the surroundings. My heart raced, matching the beat of my determination—I had come to face the challenges of the Infernal Coliseum, to hone my strength, to endure, and, ultimately, to take on the formidable Firedrake Patriarch.

My eyes scanned the village, noting the seemingly random assortment of stone and wood structures, each molded and scarred by the relentless elements. The very essence of every dwelling and individual screamed resilience in the face of imminent danger. It was amidst this backdrop of survival that I met my first mentor.

A bent, unhurried figure approached. He introduced himself as Eldrid the Wise, his very being exuding the wisdom that could only come from countless years and experiences. His skin reminded me of the volcanic obsidian around us—rough, scarred, but exuding a strength that demanded respect.

Capturing my gaze with his piercing, luminous eye, Eldrid beckoned me with a nod towards the fire beside him. "Join me, stranger," he urged, his voice reminiscent of old, crinkling paper.

Drawn to his offer, I approached and settled next to the fire. From his hands, I received a clay cup, its contents steaming and exuding a rich aroma. I took a sip, the taste intense and sharp, yet it warmed me from within.

As we sat, Eldrid spun tales of the Coliseum's storied past, of warriors who braved its gauntlet, their triumphs, and their downfalls. Every word held weight, every pause gave me a moment to comprehend the monumental challenge ahead.

"Remember, young one, the Coliseum isn't just a test," Eldrid cautioned, his lone eye mirroring the flickering flames. "It's a dance with fate, where your life hangs in the balance. At its pinnacle resides the Firedrake Patriarch, as ancient as the very volcano we sit beside. A being of terror and respect. Yet, with attentiveness, observation, and vigilance, you might just prevail."

Within the village marketplace, a bustling mosaic of hues, sounds, and activity, I met my second village member—Ember Whisperwind.

Ember, a hunter, a trapper, seemed intrinsically connected to this inhospitable land. She noticed me before I even saw her, her sharp eyes evaluating my every feature. A mischievous smile formed on her lips as she stepped closer.

"New to the Inferno, are we?" she remarked, her arms folded confidently. "You seem like you could use some guidance."

And she provided an abundance of tips. She elucidated on the myriad creatures that inhabited this domain, dissecting their strengths and vulnerabilities, their habits and mannerisms. Ember ingrained in me the art of discerning potential foes, nurturing the capacity to think in their stead, to anticipate their next move. Her persona was enigmatic, her discourse occasionally an intricate maze of layered connotations, but the essence of her sagacity was undiluted and lucid.

"Being acquainted with your adversary is half your success, stranger," she remarked, her tone as incisive as the obsidian dagger she brandished. "And in these lands, the demarcation between ally and enemy is ephemeral, akin to a delicate tendril of smoke. Bear in mind that even the awe-inspiring Patriarch was once but a fledgling. Remember that wisdom when you confront him."

Both of these interactions profoundly shaped my perception of the coliseum. The enlightenment I derived was invaluable, arming me with a nuanced arsenal for the looming challenges. Every utterance, every shared instance, served to galvanize my determination and edge me ever closer to my aspiration — to assert my presence in the Infernal Coliseum, to triumph, to persevere, and to lock eyes with the incandescent stare of the Firedrake Patriarch. Their counsel, interwoven with discernment, suffused me with a renewed purpose. Both Eldrid's deep-rooted wisdom and Ember's shrewd insights elevated my preparedness, and I felt a potent amalgamation of reverence, gratitude, and burgeoning confidence.

Amid the village's raw dynamism, set against the jagged tableau of volcanic formations and gleaming obsidian monoliths, was the blacksmith shop. As I drew closer, I was serenaded by the melodic cadence of metal striking metal.

Engrossed in their metallurgical artistry, the blacksmiths presented as symmetrical titans of sinew and vigor. Their formidable silhouettes shimmered with perspiration, each bead hissing upon contact with the scorching forge. Despite their daunting physiques, their rapport was undeniably charming, akin to two playful urchins trapped within titanic frames.

"Behold this, Spark," Soot intoned, directing his twin's attention to my Inferno's Fang Battle Axe. "Such specimens are rarities here."

"Indeed. Reckon it could use some finesse, eh, Soot?" Spark echoed, a glint of keen interest evident.

I observed, rapt, as they meticulously appraised my weapon, with playful banter interjected throughout. Their ribbing, though jovial, did not belie the evident reverence they held for my weapon's craftsmanship.

"For a small amount of credits, we can refine its balance, enhance its grip," Soot proposed, shifting his gaze to meet mine. "Wouldn't want you fumbling in the Coliseum with a less-than-optimal weapon, would we?"

"Less-than-optimal? It's commendable as is, but in our hands? It will be unparalleled!" Spark countered, jostling his sibling in jest.

I relinquished my axe and a purse of coins. With masterful dexterity, the twins set about their craft. Their prior jesting segued into an earnest exchange of expertise. When I reclaimed my weapon, it felt reborn, seamlessly integrated with my own form – a vivid testament to the twins' unparalleled artisanship.

"In the Coliseum, triumph isn't merely about your weapon's stature," Soot opined, giving me an encouraging clap on the back. "It hinges on your prowess in wielding it."

"And let not forget the zest of the endeavor. After all, a dragon awaits your challenge!" Spark interjected, his hearty laughter echoing in the smithy. Their whimsical japes, juxtaposed with their unexpected profundity, instilled in me an enduring lesson: victory wasn't merely about brute strength; it was equally about reveling in the journey itself.

Just as I was about to pivot on my heel to leave, a sudden gut feeling stopped me in my tracks, compelling me to turn back. I cleared my throat, hesitating slightly as I caught their attention. "Hey, do either of you know how to get in?