NOVEL NEXT Chapter 121: Ashen City
It was a busy morning time in the Crowd House Inn as if the place was in a heated effort to demonstrate from where it got its name from. The giant hall by the registry was crowded by a variety of people. Warriors, Berserkers, Tanks, Archers, even a few Mages sprinkled here and there, all breaking their fast as the waiters whizzed by with giant trays hauled over masterful fingers.
Finding a place in this chaos proved difficult, but soon they were sitting in a corner and waiting for their food in a shared silence. Valens decided to make good use of his time and called his status.
It's been ages since I last checked this thing.
Name: Valens Kosthal
Age: 22
Race: Human (Ancient)
Class: Arcane Magister (Ancient)
Level: 150
Experience: 34%
Trait: Resonance (Ancient)
Skills (11/20):
Lifesurge (Master) - lvl 20
Hexsurge (Basic) - lvl 15
Lifeward (Master) - lvl 17
Blockage (Master) - lvl 4
Light Feet (Master) - lvl 8
Fireball (Adept) - lvl 8
Apathy (Master) - lvl 7
Inferno (Adept) - lvl 16
Gale (Master) - lvl 7
Gravitating Earth (Master) - lvl 14
Ancient's Domain (Basic) - lvl 1
Stats:
Endurance - 12
Vitality - 13
Strength - 15
Dexterity - 25
Intelligence - 310
Wisdom - 155
Free Points: 250
General Skills (3/10):
Laran Language (Ancient)
Mana Manipulation (Master) - lvl 25
Titles: [Proven], [The Verdict], [Riftwalker], [Bane of the Shadows]
Two things stuck out to him the moment he saw the state of his status page, of which the first one was the number of available skill slots. By completing his First Trial, he earned the right to register ten more skills into the System, and already he had a few ideas to work with.
A Mana Shield. To see how viable it is, I need to do some tests. Perhaps have Nomad swing a sword or two while we're at it. I could also go for telekinesis, which is always useful. I also need to find a way to get rid of that Fireball. Inferno scarcely leaves room for its use.
The second point, one that he'd suffered long enough to understand now, was the lack of other stats. While his Intelligence sat at a mighty 310, his Vitality, Endurance, and Strength paled pitifully in comparison.
I can do without Strength and Dexterity. Both had their uses, but my skills can negate the lack of either. Endurance and Vitality, however, are essential. I have to keep my focus on Intelligence and Wisdom pair while sprinkling some stats between those physical stats.
The reason why he had neglected those two was that he didn't see a point in investing in them since even warrior-type class owners like Celme and Nomad had trouble standing against the sort of creatures they came across until now. By logic, investing a few stats into the Endurance-Vitality pair wouldn't keep Valens from being impaled by shadowy spears.
It was the little things, however, that he came to find were truly useful. Bearing a strong wind, marching across endless plains and treacherous lands, climbing up the steps, sprinting through crumbled buildings. Not every place was fit for him to Light-Feet his way across.
The quality of mana and the consistency of it, though? An extra two hundred stats are nothing to scoff at.
"Having trouble with the recent changes, are we?" Nomad muttered by his side, fashionably handsome in his new stitched skin save for the hair curling awkwardly around his scalp.
"I don't know whether I should continue the all-in approach I've been employing until now," Valens said, one hand rubbing at his chin. "I have invested nearly every one of my stats into the Intelligence and Wisdom pair, but the recent matters have shown me a few things."
Celme turned slowly toward him, face creasing. "How high is your Endurance and Vitality?"
Valens frowned deeply at his status page. "The total of them comes about… twenty-five."
"Twenty… five?" Celme questioned.
"Fickle, brittle things, Mages are," Nomad said, pointing a finger up to Valens's face. "Reckon being a part of an old myth doesn't change that. I wonder if this finger of mine would pass through your chest if I use some strength behind it."
"Probably," Celme said. "But you've seen how he dealt with those Wards before. Drilling a hole through his body doesn't change the fact that he can heal it in no time to choke you down with his flames. That's one thing the other Healers lack. Instant healing."
"Well, it isn't instant, more like a hasty effort at patching the important parts, and leaving the detailed work to a later date. Binding the arteries to stop the bleeding, for one, is highly efficient against particularly pointy foes," Valens said, a smile straining on his lips.
He still remembered that Rift in which he had the fortune to face a dozen Wards of the Necromancer and taste their filthy limbs in his chest. Dealing with them when he had the Apathy keeping his mind controlled hadn't been that big of a deal, but he truly doubted whether he could survive a battle against someone with Nomad's qualifications.
This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.
The wisdom and the consideration. The thoughts and the knowledge. These are what make a foe terrifying.
Even the Weeping Horror he faced in that Cursed Rift was an echo of a creature deceived with the promise of uniting with its Mother. It wasn't in a state of mind to reconsider its approach against Valens.
But here, the game changes.
"You should have them at least 50 for now," Celme said. "The rest you can pour into the Intelligence and Wisdom. Now that you're a Proven, gaining new levels wouldn't be as easy as it was before."
"I did jump fifty levels thanks to the work I did prior to the completion of my Trial," Valens muttered.
"You were in unique circumstances," Celme said.
"That comes with the job," Nomad chimed in. "If you believe you're going to have a normal life with an Ancient by your side, then I'd say you ought to give more thought to it. Things will change, little Berserker, and we have to be ready against it."
"How?" Celme scowled.
"Your Trial," Nomad said, then waved a finger at the fourth member of their group, who had the habit of keeping her silence in their presence. "And our precious Nursemaid. That Class has to go. We can't go around carrying a Pretrial kid across the Broken Lands."
"I…" Selin lowered her chin, fingers clasped painfully tight on her lap.
Celme leaned to the side and patted her shoulder. "Don't worry," he said. "We'll find you something."
"I can teach her a few tricks," Valens said, giving her a look. "But a Class Change? How do we do that?"
"The Ashen Guild should have the means to employ a Questmaster. Those people can rid you of your Class quick and easy," Nomad said. "It'll cost us, though."
"How much?" Valens asked.
"Hard to say," Nomad muttered. "I'm not familiar with the human side of things. Most of the knowledge I have could be outdated."
"A hundred crowns, at least," Celme said. "That's about twenty D-Tier Manastones."
"Which means we'll have to hunt," Valens nodded. "That's what they do here, no? Hunt for riches and glory. These adventurers hardly look like the heroic types."
The people sat across the hall reminded Valens of old tales of the Empire where the sword and shield were the king of the battlefields. Rather than hunting monsters, however, people often fought against each other, trying to make a name for themselves.
Here, the existence of a common enemy had given them a clear purpose to aim for. You want riches? Then you can hunt dwellers for Riftshards and sell them out to the big companies for a hefty profit. It involved risking your life out in the Broken Lands, of course, but such was the way of life here.
I wish those Shriekers and Hollows came with their own Riftshards, as well.
It still pained him that they left those Ancient Riftshards behind in all the rush. Still, now that Valens tasted the endless potential of those things, he wanted at least to get some normal Riftshards, even if it was to carry them in case things went wrong.
Like a depot. Yes. You can never be too careful in this city.
"These Questmasters," Valens then said, having remembered the Queststone from the Necromancer's Rift. "They are the ones who prepare the quests, right? Should we take a look to see if they have something for us?"
"Makes sense," Celme said. "I'll be out for my First Trial, anyway. We can check if there's anything we can do on our way to the den of the Skarnveils."
I wonder how my next Trial's going to be? It's related to the City of Magisters, isn't it?
Valens drew a long breath in as the waiter delivered their orders. At this rate, they would run out of money soon, and staying in an inn didn't help with that.
The day is still young. Let's see what this strange city has to offer to a stranger.
……
Valens decided to take a stroll through the Third Ring after breakfast, alone with only his thoughts to keep him company. Unlike Belgrave and, in part, Brackley, the Ashen City seemed much like a place put together by a mixture of half-baked plans and little thought to its structure.
The buildings were simple, if not crude, and the adventurers he saw looked like they weren't planning to stay here for too long. He had to admit there was some sense in lining them in the Third Ring since they were rather unruly and wild in their behavior.
Always living on the edge, are you? It's hard to belong somewhere when you're in a constant state of flux.
Drifting across the winds of change, being flung around like a leaf strayed out of its tree, Valens could understand the reasoning of these people. He felt the same way, but in his case, there were certain things to attend to.
I don't want to repeat the same thing again. I won't let some maniac lead me into a twisted scheme. If there's a Trial to be taken, then I'll be prepared this time.
Which was why they had decided to find a good place to go over a few things with Nomad. As a former academic and a Resonant Healer, Valens spent most of his time carrying out experiments and difficult operations. So he knew how important data was to a complicated machine like the System.
Therefore, he wanted to examine the changes that had come with his new Class. Master Archibald had told him that his having the ability to use all kinds of mana was in itself an egregious advantage against other Mages. While they were limited to a single field or two at most, Valens could be considered a practitioner of every kind of mana there was in this world.
It was just that he never had time to use this to his advantage. Coming up with spell formulae was hard, and finding them here in the Broken Lands was even harder, but so long as he could see a Mage displaying their abilities, he could learn from them, or he could experiment with his recently boosted mana pool.
Stats:
Endurance - 50
Vitality - 50
Strength - 40
Dexterity - 50
Intelligence - 394
Wisdom - 196
Free Points: 0
His investment in the other stats showed immediate results. There was now a spring in his step, a warmth across his muscles, a strength to his fingers that hadn't been there before. He felt as though he could crush a stone in the palm of his hand or sprint through a marathon without sweating like a dog.
I probably can't do those things yet, but it still feels nice.
The boost to his mana pool was more evident. The gurgling river in his chest had grown into a small sea, the waves crashing against the fleshy cage and bouncing back like giant tides. There was also a certain quality to his mana now, a strong consistency, almost like it'd transformed.
Looking around the crowded streets of the Third Ring with its inns and small houses, his Inferno could likely set this whole place ablaze without much difficulty, and considering the adventurers here were mostly Proven, he doubted they could mount any resistance against his flames.
It's like that now, eh? Thinking whether it'd be enough to scorch people or not. But then, even the System admitted it. I'm not an Arcane Healer anymore. I've become a Magister.
That didn't mean he couldn't heal people, of course. He just had to stay away from certain eyes for now.
Still, there's no harm in checking the practice here, is there? Perhaps I can find a fellow Healer or a fellow Mage. This time, around my age, I hope.
……