Now that they had all the supplies they needed for their next delve, after buying extra for the potential new member, they decided to head home and relax for a while. Well, so Vorn could relax, really. Rowan could relax just about anywhere so long as someone was watching his back, considering the whole soul thing…He was a lot more relaxed in this life than he was in his old one.
As they entered their shabby apartment, Vorn exclaimed, “Hey, we forgot to do the whole ‘analyze our weaknesses’ thing!”
“Have we ever actually done that? Do we really even need to?” Rowan asked, not really seeing the issue.
“You literally walked into a dungeon that you had no information on based on the assumption that the Guild didn’t want to kill its new members, or at least cared about their lives. That would be a fair assumption if you had been in this world for more than a day, and knew that we weren’t a dystopia or something.”
“To be fair, Bern doesn’t seem very dystopian based on the colorful buildings and literal magic in the air, but I can see your point. You had no way of knowing what I was assuming based on flawed logic, and what I actually could deduce correctly. Working with a flawed assumption can get people killed.”
“Exactly! And that was on me, too. I really should’ve told you to slow your roll and asserted myself instead of just letting you potentially make a bad decision. That’s two things we could do better right there! You need to stop just bulldozing ahead with no concern for what could go wrong, and I need to actually tell you when you are making a bad decision.”
“You know what a bulldozer is?”
“That’s what you took from that? *Sigh* Yes, we have bulldozers here. Since the word got translated into one you already knew, it probably works pretty similar to how your world’s did.”
“You sigh-”
“Finish that sentence and I will trip you every three seconds for the next week.”
“...”
“Thank you.”
— — —
After a few hours of discussion, what it really boiled down to was...
“So, in conclusion, we really, really, need an escape skill.”
“That’s what I think it comes down to, yes. If I could have run away in the dungeon, I would have. I wouldn’t put your life in danger, no matter how fun the fight might be, but if something is strong enough to put us in danger, chances are, it’s strong enough to not let us escape.”
“Yeah, you have a point. I didn’t really consider that when I asked you to run if you thought we might lose.”
“So how do we go about getting one?” Rowan asked, deadly serious.
“That’s the thing, I don’t know that we should.”
“Hmm? I thought you were against risking our lives so blatantly.”
“Yeah, obviously. At least one of us needs a sense of self preservation, but that’s not what I’m talking about. As far as I know, people only get five skills before they reach level one hundred and… Something happens. I don’t know if I want one of my skill slots wasted on an option unrelated to my Path, and I know you don’t.”
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“You are correct. And what do you mean ‘Something happens’? That seems a little vague, especially for you, magic nerd.”
“First of all, words hurt,” Vorn said jokingly, “And second, I don’t know. The rare few that are above level one hundred are intentionally vague. I can only assume that they are either not allowed to disclose what happens or heavily discouraged from doing so.”
“Interesting. I guess we’ll see what they're hiding when we get there.”
“Gods, I wish I had your confidence. Anyway, do you have any ideas that will prevent us from being murdered to death?”
“Murder them first?”
*Sigh*
— — —
They spent the rest of the day just relaxing like they had originally planned. Vorn had to take a quick walk to a bookshop to acquire the rest of the literature that he had been waiting to buy, but he certainly wasn’t going to complain about that.
While they were walking, Vorn asked, “So, do you have any genres you're partial to?”
“Not particularly. I don’t really like action or comedy, though. Mystery can be fun, I guess.”
“Comedy I expected, but action is a bit of a surprise.”
“Really? I just don’t see the appeal in reading about someone doing what I already do every day. I much prefer just doing it myself. Honestly, they’re just boring to me, I don’t really have a solid reason.”
“That’s completely fair. I’ll see about picking up a mystery novel for us. There are a few I have been wanting to read anyway.”
Vorn walked with a little more pep in his step, happy that he could share his hobby with his Soulmate. Rowan wore a small internal smile, too. He hadn’t had many people try to include him in their activities beyond combat exercises. It was… nice.
— — —
The next day, they went about trying to find a mentor like the guard in the Trial Dungeon had said, if for no other reason than needing a place to practice. Magic, especially combat magic, was heavily regulated in Bern. Beyond just being, ya know, dangerous, Bern already had low ambient mana. If Mana intense magic was used, it would take from the already limited pool that the city's enchantments used.
Rowan had asked Vorn how that worked not long ago.
“Well, yes, you would be using your own Aspected Mana, and yes, you are releasing it back into the atmosphere when you use it, but it’s not that simple. When people use magic, they are manipulating their own Mana to accomplish a goal, and thus that Mana becomes saturated with intent. We’re not… Super sure how that works, but we know it means that said mana becomes ‘corrupted’ for lack of a better word. It can’t be used for enchantments, and needs to dissolve into the ambient mana over the course of a few weeks to be usable again.”
“And enchantments don’t do this?”
“No. We think it comes down to either the mind or the soul leaving an imprint on the mana that enchantments don’t. We think. I’m going to be honest with you, nobody has a single clue as to why, and that’s just our best guess.”
“That seems like a pattern in this world.”
“It’s probably a pattern in any world.”
“True.”
— — —
They arrived at the Guild not long after that conversation and were met with bad, but expected news. All the mentors that the Delvers had were either already fully booked, or drafted. The Guild extended a small amount of protection against the draft, especially this far away from the front lines, but there was a limit. Bern was already well protected, with few dungeons that would actually prove a threat to the city. That combined with the strange abundance of high-level Delver’s that settled theremeant that the Empire started getting pissy and demanding some soldiers.
Considering that the Guild’s mentors were all over level seventy-five and experienced, it was obvious who they would pick.
What that meant for Voran, though, was that he was fresh outta luck. Unless…
*Sigh*
“What is it?” Rowan asked, genuinely curious. It wasn’t often he wasn’t the cause of such sighs.
“I need to contact Uncle. He would know some people to help us. He may be old now, but he was a formidable Delver in his youth. I think he even joined up with the Hall of Justice later on, but he was always vague…”
“Hall of Justice?”
“Sorry. They’re basically bounty hunters that work under the banner of Hysperia, the Goddess of Light, Justice, and Judgement.”
“Hysperia? Isn’t that also the name of the Axelite Nation?”
“Nah, that’s Hysperion. Very similar I know. They are actually named after her because she’s the wife of Axel.”
“That makes sense. So, are we going to see Burken now?” Rowan asked with his usual tact, that is to say, none.
“Yeah, just give me a few minutes.”
“You know, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”
“No, it’s fine. It’s not like this is the first fight we’ve had. Reconciling is just… Difficult. We have very different views.”
“I know. I kind of had a front row seat.” Rowan said with the barest hint of humor lacing his voice.
“You have a terrible sense of humor. I preferred it when you didn’t have one.” Vorn grumbled.
“Terrible sense of humor, huh? I guess I had to pick up something from you.” He said, a full-blown smirk on his face.
“I really need to keep you from hanging out with Ark.”