NOVEL NEXT Chapter 2 - Weakling (2)
I had never believed in the supernatural: fortune tellers, omens, superstitions. All nonsense. But in this world, things were different. Magic, monsters, and impossible phenomena were real here.
When the Archdruid, the highest-ranking druid known for his connection to nature, said something dark was clinging to me, I didn't doubt him.
"I can sense something dark... something terrifying clinging to you," he said, his voice low and grave. His piercing gaze met mine, filled with concern. "You will face hardships, misfortune unlike any you've known. And I can only hope you'll find the strength to survive it."
I swallowed hard. His words struck a chord deep inside me. Not because they were surprising, but because I had already suspected as much.
"Are you sure? And… is there a way to get rid of it?" I asked, my voice quieter than I intended.
Several of the elder druids furrowed their brows. Some even looked offended. Apparently, questioning the Archdruid's words was seen as borderline blasphemous. I could hear hushed whispers ripple through the circle of druids around me.
The Archdruid, however, only chuckled softly. "Hohoho, I am quite certain. But unfortunately, Leafshade, I do not know how to remove it."
Damn this old geezer. Then what was the point of scaring me like that?
"Can you at least do something about it?" I asked again, half-hopeful, half-annoyed.
"All I can offer is this: in every hardship and stroke of misfortune, there lies an equal reward waiting on the other side," he said, smiling in that cryptic, frustrating way of his.
Not helpful. At all.
But I forced a polite smile and nodded. No point in making things worse with the elder druids, who already seemed irritated by my line of questioning.
High willpower. Terrible luck.
I let out a slow breath and stared down at the ground.
I should've known there was no running from this.
***
Sanctum of Trials. This space was small, with no furniture except for a single meditation seat at the center of the room. The walls and ceiling were made of wood and leaves, a hallmark of druidic architecture. Etched into the curved roof and all around the walls were intricate symbols, unfamiliar to me. These symbols emitted a faint green glow. The magical aura in the room was palpable, thick with power.
After the blessing, we young druids took turns entering this sacred space. I immediately seated myself cross-legged in the center, closing my eyes to meditate, as I had been instructed. Within the game, the Sanctum of Trials is where druids learn their spells. Each spell branched into its own unique paths, allowing for countless combinations. Most druid spells were nature-based, designed to enhance status or provide buffs. It was no surprise that druids often filled support roles within teams.
As soon as my eyes closed and I began to meditate, visions of the spells available to me appeared, along with detailed descriptions.
Verdant Surge, Emberroot, Thornstrike, Nature's Veil.
One by one, I read the details of these spells. Fortunately, they were identical to what I had seen in the game.
After simulating hundreds of strategies in my mind, I settled on one spell that seemed essential for survival in the early floors.
But how do I choose the spell I want? I wondered. I focused my thoughts on the spell.
[You have successfully learned Rejuvenation]
I felt something magical enter me, accompanied by a gentle vibration in my horns. It seems to have worked, I thought. Now, it was time to choose the next spell.
Druids could select two basic spells at the start of the game. Most players would choose one defensive spell and one offensive spell. Based on the strategy I had decided on, I already knew which spell to pick next. High risk, high reward. If this failed, my character would likely become worthless or even worse, perish. But if it succeeded, I was confident I could at least make it to the second floor. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes once again.
[You have successfully learned Windstride]
I hope this works.
***
After the Sanctum of Trials, the young druids were allowed to prepare for the adventure that awaited them the following day. More than half of them made their way to their rooms to rest, as the night had already fallen. Some gathered in groups, chatting and testing out the spells they had chosen. I don't have much time left. Every second is precious, and I must use it wisely to finalize my last remaining preparations. I quickly headed back to the starting area, passing the Sacred Willow, and made my way toward a small hidden waterfall deep within the heart of Willow's End, the place that druids lived.
Fleet Lotus seeds, Blue Shell Snails, and Red Nightshade. I worked diligently to gather all of these, all of which could be found around the waterfall. Once I had collected everything I needed, I hurried to my next destination, Nightspring Glades. A small area at the border of Willow's End and Ellarion Woods to the west. Here, I could find the last ingredient I needed. Nightspring Glades was an open space within the forest, where the moonlight pierced through the canopy, illuminating the area clearly. Filled with tall grasses, it was unmistakably the place I had been searching for.
To my surprise, I spotted a dark figure bent over in the middle of Nightspring Glades. It was highly unusual to find anyone else here at night. Slowly, I moved forward, keeping a close eye on the figure.
"Orin Sylvas?" I asked. I could vaguely recognize the shadowy figure. She was one of the newly born druids, small in stature and looking rather shy. I recognized her by her stiff gestures and confused demeanor during the ceremony, perhaps because she had been placed in the first place.
Startled and nervous, Orin turned to look at me. She seemed relieved and gave me a stiff smile. "Are you collecting Emberfly?" I asked again, returning her smile. Orin nodded slowly. "Eryndor Leafshade," I continued, extending my hand.
"H-hi," she stuttered, clearly caught off guard. "Y-yes, I know you. You are quite famous among the newborns," she added, her voice still a little shaky. I remained silent, my gaze fixed on her. She must have been referring to the moment with the Archdruid during the blessing ceremony.
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I was somewhat surprised to find another druid who knew about the use of emberfly. I had planned to ask more, but decided to hold back. Instead, we both focused on gathering the emberflies, engaging in light conversation now and then. To my surprise, beneath her shy exterior, Orin actually seemed quite eager to talk. She shared how she had learned about emberfly. It turned out she had visited the library and read extensively about a certain area.
We spent about 20 minutes gathering the emberflies before deciding to return to the resting area.
"Eryndor, would you like to form a team with me?" Orin asked, breaking the silence as we walked.
I paused for a moment, considering her question carefully, before responding.
Druids had long been seen as the weakest adventurer race. Even when they joined a team, they were often stuck as couriers or support, earning the smallest share of rewards. This deepened the gap in power, as Tower rewards were vital for growth. To survive, druids were often urged to form teams with their own kind. Far from ideal, but better than going it alone.
"Didn't you hear what the Archdruid said earlier? Something dark is always following me."
"But there's a great reward if you can overcome it, isn't there?" she said with a smirk. "Besides, he compared you to the legendary Centrius Eldertide."
"Well, I don't mind sharing a bit of suffering with someone else."
"Yay, so you're in?" Orin said excitedly.
"Unfortunately, I can't," I replied curtly, choosing not to elaborate.
According to the strategy I had mapped out, entering the Tower alone was necessary. I had to follow through on that plan, no matter what. Yet, I held back from explaining the entire situation to her.
"Hahaha, I understand," Orin chuckled, though her smile didn't quite reach her eyes. It was clear that she was hiding a hint of disappointment. Feeling a bit guilty about turning her down, I decided to offer her some helpful advice about the Redridge Range, ensuring it was all common knowledge while also trying to avoid raising any suspicions. After all, it would be strange if a druid, barely out of their birth stage, had so much detailed knowledge about the Tower.
"Wow, you really know a lot," Orin said with wide eyes, her face filled with admiration. "No wonder the Archdruid has such high expectations for you."
I shifted uncomfortably. "I'm just repeating what the elder shared with me during our study," I said, trying to downplay my knowledge.
"I'll make sure to repay you once the exploration is over," Orin responded eagerly, her excitement barely contained.
I couldn't help but smile at her earnestness. She truly was a unique individual. I thought to myself, hoping silently that both of us would be able to overcome the challenges of this first exploration. It was a daunting task, but perhaps we could find a way to succeed together, even if our paths diverged for now.
***
At exactly 10 o'clock, the young druids gathered in the training area, where the morning sunlight filtered through the canopy of trees overhead, casting dappled shadows on the forest floor. We stood in neat rows, eagerly awaiting our instructor's next words. After a brief speech, we began using the recently distributed basic druid equipment: a wooden staff infused with nature energy, specially crafted for druids; a plain robe with a belt; and leather boots. I could faintly feel the slight boost in our overall stats.
[Eryndor Leafshade]
[Soul Level: 1
Vitality: 2 → 3
Strength: 3 → 4
Agility: 3
Wisdom: 21 → 22
Willpower: 134]
Then our group was broken into smaller teams, each assigned a different instructor.
Mine was Vallen Raenhir, a young woman in a flowing crimson robe. Her stern expression and sharp voice commanded instant respect.
"Hurry up, we don't have time to waste!" she barked, motioning for us to follow.
We moved swiftly through dense forest. The trees grew taller, their bark pale as moonlight, their leaves glowing faintly with magic. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth, blooming flowers, and the subtle hum of nature's energy.
We emerged into a clearing, and there it was: the Worlroot.
An ancient oak that towered toward the heavens, its gnarled trunk pulsing with life. Massive roots spread like veins across the ground, connecting it to the land itself. Its branches twisted into the sky, brushing the clouds as if trying to touch the stars.
At its base lay a circular stone platform, overgrown with moss and etched with intricate druidic runes, symbols whose meaning had been lost to time, but whose power remained. They glowed faintly under the touch of sunlight, their ethereal light casting a soft shimmer over the stone.
Andrheus Rift, a mystical anomaly embedded in the heart of the ancient oak's roots, pulsating with an energy that felt as though it were alive. It was a magical warp point, a conduit between places, allowing druids to travel across vast distances with ease. In the game, one had to complete a certain achievement before being allowed to travel using the rift. I remembered the process well, tedious and time consuming process, but none of that mattered now. Here, in this world, the rules were different.
"How convenient," I mused silently, admiring the shimmering rift before me.
However, a small seed of caution sprouted in the back of my mind. The world around me was tangible, alive, and unpredictable. Not everything I had learned in the digital realm would apply here. I needed to let go of the mindset of a mere gamer and embrace the uncertainty of this new reality. It was time to adapt. To be open to the unknown rather than relying on strategies built in a virtual world.
Instructor Vallen Raenhir raised her hands and began the incantation.
As the Rift activated, nausea gripped my stomach like a twisting knot. My vision immediately began to swim, the world around me blurring into an unrecognizable mess of colors, as if the very fabric of reality were unraveling before my eyes. The air grew thick, pressing in on me from all sides, and for a moment, I felt as if the ground beneath my feet had ceased to exist altogether. It lasted only a few moments, but those moments felt like an eternity.
Then, as quickly as it had come, the sensation faded. The spinning stopped, the dizziness vanished, and I could finally open my eyes again. But the world I found myself in was no longer the one I had just left.
The clearing was gone, replaced by a landscape that was totally different. The very air was thick with a different energy, a type of magic that vibrated in the atmosphere, alive and ancient. In the distance, towering high above the surrounding landscape, stood the Tower of Ascension.
Rising high above the bustling town like a monolith carved by the gods themselves, the Tower of Ascension stood as both a symbol of hope and a daunting challenge for any adventurer who dared to enter its shadow. Located at the heart of the town, its towering spires stretched up to the heavens, reaching a total of ten stories, each higher and more treacherous than the last. Its surface was etched with ancient runes that pulsed faintly, as if the tower breathed its own ancient rhythm.
Around its base sprawled a wide plaza, where adventurers gathered, prepared, and shared stories before embarking on their climb. Massive iron doors adorned with gilded symbols of various elemental forces guarded the entrance, opening only to those who had been deemed worthy by the Tower's ancient magic. At the foot of the tower, an inscription read: "Only the strongest may ascend. The trials will test your mind, body, and soul."
A thrill of anticipation surged through me, tight in my chest. This was no ordinary challenge. It was a crucible, a trial by fire that would shape who we were meant to become. I barely noticed how tight I was gripping my staff until my knuckles turned white.
Then a sharp, grating laugh cut through the air like a blade.
"Haha! Look at those grass-fed weaklings!" someone shouted.
I turned to see a group of adventurers approaching, who were bigger, louder, and brimming with arrogance. A burly man with a massive hammer slung over his shoulder, pointed straight at us. His companions fanned out behind him, smirking, cracking their knuckles, and deliberately getting too close.
One of them shoulder-checked Sable as he passed. She stumbled but didn't fall. I stepped forward instinctively, heart pounding.
"Careful," I said, my voice low.
The man sneered. "Or what? You'll grow a tree at me?"
His friends laughed again, louder this time, but this wasn't just mockery anymore; it was a show of dominance. One of them flicked the edge of my robe. Another grabbed the end of Orin's staff and tugged like it was a toy.
"We're going up today. Hope we don't find your corpses on floor one," the burly man said, stepping closer, nose almost touching mine. His breath reeked of ale and arrogance.
I could feel the anger rise, my hands tightening on my staff, nature magic pulsing faintly beneath my skin.
"Enough!" barked a voice, sharp and commanding enough to draw the attention of the nearby Royal Guard. It was Instructor Vallen.
She stepped between us like a storm given form. The other group backed off, but not before tossing a few final sneers our way.
Those fuckers. I'd remember them.
As they swaggered toward the tower's entrance, something inside me stirred with a sharp pull in my gut I couldn't ignore.
I didn't know when… or how…
But I was sure of one thing:
I'd be seeing them again.
And next time… things wouldn't go the same way.