Paragon of Skills

I can't believe King Baalrek's words.

Three times?! It almost killed me once!

It's going to be fine, Cloud, you'll be healed. There are enough monsters. I've run the math.

Damn it, alright!

I summon more and more Dark Lattice feeling my veins now expanding way more comfortably until I reach twelve instances of it. Then, the sensation of having my veins torn apart appears again.

Good. Follow these other veins now...

"He's healing himself by rerouting the mana of Dark Lattice through Blood of the Ancients?" Iskara frowns, not understanding. "What is even happening..."

"Dark Lattice creates Dark Mana. Dark Mana is not just close to Void Mana, but also to Blood," Zibrek suddenly says. "It must empower that healing Skill more than usual."

"No one can actually use Blood of the Ancients," Iskara reveals a small Infernal secret. "It's a useless Skill. It consumes more vitality and energy than it can take back."

"Has no one tried using it like Jacob's doing?" Asterion asks, confused.

"People have definitely tried doing that," Princess Iskara says. "But they just didn't work together. There's not enough power through Dark Lattice to create a conduit between the two. I've studied this with my Tutors, Asterion. I don't know how Jacob's doing that."

"Better Tutors, maybe," Zibrek mutters, once again adjusting her goggles and pulling a few more lenses out of her pocket and slapping on top of them.

"I've had the best that you can find among my kind," Princess Iskara says, peeved. "What's there better than that?"

Zibrek looks at Iskara and then at Jacob.

"Whoever taught him, I suppose."

I feel the power growing in my forearms as I keep alternating from one vein to the other. Now, for the second circulation of Dark Lattice, King Baalrek has me use slightly different veins.

I put all my energy into them and I can feel my body starting to break down once again as I strain and the number of Dark Lattices increases.

Don't hesitate. Expand them. You'll be able to cover them all, soon.

I scream in pain and push harder, but at the same time I keep funneling healing through Blood of the Ancients as more and more Stone Wolves start getting pinned to the ground.

See, now things are becoming quite different. The Stone Wolves are not just restrained, but they're slowly getting squished to the ground. The ones that have been under the effect of the spell for the longest are starting to shrink in size.

Once I'm through with the second circulation, Dark Lattice is now covering twenty Stone Wolves.

Once I get to the third, it's forty.

At the last loop, which is so hard I momentarily lose my vision, I look down from my aerial position and I see a sea of darkness covering the battlefield.

They're all bound, howling and gnashing their stone fangs in vain. Every monster that attacked is now done for.

Replenish your reserves, King Baalrek says as I slowly glide back to the ground and look toward the other distant Champions and wave at them.

Thank you, Master, I say.

You did well, Jacob Cloud. You did very well. Now, it should be just about time for...

I hear a notification in my head.

[Skill - Dark Lattice (Gold) has evolved.]

[Dark Lattice (Gold) becomes Web of Withering (Gold).]

What's the limit on this one? I ask.

No limit, King Baalrek explains. And it has just guaranteed that the next Platinum Skill you get will be much, much stronger, Jacob Cloud. You'll have to hit the Hidden Market as soon as you can. And, if possible, you should try trading with the Princess's aunt. She's clearly capable of providing a few of the Skill Crystals you might be in need for.

It takes us half a day to let everybody else finish clearing up the basin and then we start moving toward the second of the four zones of the Tomb of Fate.

We enter it through another cursed bridge which I have Vyrrak destroy.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

The Dragonkin also reports on what he saw scouting this place in advance. He didn't need to use the bridge to scout it.

"The Regional Boss is another Corrupted monster at the Early Diamond Rank. The monsters are Stone Gorillas. They're slightly stronger than the Stone Wolves, roughly around Level 280."

I look back at Lancelot, who has become stronger alongside Althir and the other two Elves.

We proceed in the exact same way as we have done before, slaying one monster after another without problem and without the need for Champions to interfere.

Malrik watches the Blood Mirrors while scratching his chin, pensive, wondering how the Champions will fare.

"This Boss is stronger and more agile. It also has a weapon," he mutters.

But after seeing their performance with the Corrupted Alpha Stone Wolf, he suspects that not even the giant stone ape will be enough.

"Iskara!" I shout.

"On it!" The Infernal Princess replies, launching herself in the air, manifesting two large, dark-red webbed wings and slamming into the Regional Boss. This one doesn't have a curse on its body, thankfully.

The monster staggers and I zoom in on it with the Grimoire.

"Asterion, there's a Mana Core in the giant axe the monster is wielding! Can you destroy it?!"

Asterion summons his white spear from its Interspatial Ring and then reappears right in front of the ten meter tall Corrupted Alpha Stone Gorilla.

Soon, the battle is over and the monster has been killed.

The scene repeats around the third region too, a plateau chock-full of Stone Bears.

The Champions are... incredible.

There's no other word to describe them. Seeing them fight three Regional Bosses at the Early Diamond Rank just like this is nothing short of insane. My power level has reached Early Platinum Rank, which puts me almost an entire Rank above my actual level, which still hovers around Intermediate Gold, and will probably be Advanced Gold by the time we're out of here. But these people... none of them has crossed into Platinum Rank in terms of level, yet they're all capable of skipping up to the Diamond Rank in terms of power.

As we walk through the plateau, I look in the distance and feel a slight tremor rising to my feet from the ground.

"It's them," I hear Asterion growl.

His people must REALLY hate the Cult of Asmodeus.

There are few things that I've seen bother the Highblood, but it seems like the Cult of Asmodeus provokes a visceral hate in him.

There are about fifty members that are all robed and led by two larger Cultists.

I feel the air around us starting to crackle with unbridled energy as Asterion's aura starts leaking from his body.

"Yo," I say, looking back at him. "Calm down. Stay ready."

Vyrrak walks up to me and stays right to my side.

"You're weak, Jacob Cloud, but still a Champion," he explains. "I'm here to make sure you don't die like a dog when the battle inevitably goes down."

"CHAMPIONS!" one of the two Cultists lowers his hood and reveals a short, red hair and two matching red eyes. "What a pleasure to meet the Generation of Legends!"

"The Cult of Asmodeus, I presume?" I ask, looking at them.

"Oh my, the Fake Champion has done his research!" the Cultist mocks me.

"Rude," I say. "I don't know about you guys. I come from the mines."

My response seems to stump the man—good.

I am running the Grimoire at max speed on this man and everybody else, and soon I feel sick to my stomach.

I see what they want to do.

"You're sick people," Asterion barks. "I hope you're ready to tell us whatever it is that you want to do."

"Tell you? Oh no. We've come for an exchange."

"An exchange?" I reply, trying to sound surprised. "Have you guys stopped being Cultists and you turned Merchants?"

The redhead guy looks at me, still confused.

"No? That's a pity, I'm in the market for some illegal Skill Crystals, you know?" I say, putting a hand behind me and showing my full sign to the rest of the Champions behind, who suddenly frown.

Zibrek showed me a few hand signs to communicate in a situation like this. I'm just telling everyone to stand by and do nothing.

Only Vyrrak and Asterion can't see me while we're on this desolate plateau.

A cold wind sweeps between us and the mass of Cultists, which makes all our Academy robes flutter in the wind.

I move two steps to the left, honestly a bit terrified, and then I grab Asterion's sleeve.

"Asterion," I say, finding the giant, handsome blond man turning to look at me with his penetrating eyes. "Do not attack."

"Oh, an Highblood who listens to a peasant! To the Fake Champion! You must have lost all your pride, Highblood!"

Please, don't fall for the cheap provocation, I think to myself.

Thankfully, Asterion just backpedals after gritting his teeth at the Cultist.

"So," I say, turning toward the two Cultists.

"I bet that those behind you are your hostages, right? And you want to trade them?" I say.

How do you know that? King Baalrek asks in my head.

"Yes? You must be smarter than I gave you credit for, Fake Champion."

"Can we stop calling me Fake Champion?" I ask.

"You can be called whatever you want. The thing is, we want to trade these people in exchange for free passage."

Look at him! He thought we were going to ask for more! Malrik thinks, snickering internally. He won't even see this coming.

"No," I reply with a smile. "In fact, Orrivane, kill the hostages."

"What?" Orrivane moves to my side but he looks at me, confused.

"Have you lost your mind, Cloud?" Vyrrak asks from the side, looking at the hostages now removing their hoods and showing civilian faces.

"AH! Look at your Fake Champion, a murderous, blood-thirsty bastard who want to just keep leveling up in this Dungeon, not caring about anyone!"

Everyone turns to look at me with some distrust in their eyes before I explain what's really going on.

"They're dead. They're all already dead," I say laconically.