NOVEL NEXT [V2] Chapter 19: Ominous Omissions
Blychert fell to one knee, his breath heavy and burning in his chest. The sheer adrenaline still coursing through his body was enough to mitigate the pain radiating up through his left hand, but it was hard to ignore that he'd lost most of his fingers on that side.
Even still…
Glancing up, Kubranul's body was already beginning to dissipate into a gentle vortex of dust—of whatever latent magical energy that sustained his lifeforce. For all his talk, the dragon was still dead, there was no disputing that much, and they now stood victorious.
Well, some of them did, anyway.
***
{SAGE ---> Raven System Notification}
[Experience removed: -5,643 xp]
[Experience gained: +15,000 xp]
[Experience total: 30,813 xp]
[Cumulative total: 43,500 xp]
{exploit_alias_advancement-message transmitted}
> Level up added.
> Level [9] removed.
> Level [10] added.
> Level up added.
> Level [10] removed.
> Level [11] added
***
[Attributes]
> Attribute increased [Endurance +2, 39 --> 41]
> Attribute increased [Intellect, +1, 41 --> 42]
> Attribute increased [Willpower +2, 53 --> 55]
> Attribute increased [Magic +3, 55 --> 58]
***
[Skills & Abilities]
> Magic Skill increased [Barrier Magic, 20 --> 21]
> Magic Skill increased [Elemental Magic, 17 --> 18]
> 000 Ability increased [XP Transmogrifier, 1 --> 2]
> [*Undefined*] Skill threshold increased by [+1]
> [*Undefined*] Ability threshold increased [+1]
***
[Specializations]
> {error_check… run bypass, 0108.AR_x}
> Specialization point [1] added.
***
Blychert was nearly too exhausted—both physically and mentally—to regard his sage terminal with any substantial focus. And yet, even despite his somewhat debilitated state of being, there was simply no ignoring what he was looking at.
Dropping his shields, Bly collapsed onto the floor. With his one good hand, he raised his arm shakily and gestured for his sage terminal to open, eager to inspect the log for himself.
Maybe he was too tired to think about it, but none of this was making any kind of sense to him.
Where the classed chose attributes every five levels, the classless earned them through training. But apparently, that didn't apply to Blychert. This was the second time now that his attributes had increased on level up, which wasn't even technically a level up, it was just the alias exploit performing visual changes for the purposes of obfuscation. Skills and abilities increasing in level on their own wasn't a point of concern, which happened for both classed and classless individuals, but what was that about thresholds? And now his XP transmogrifier was leveling up?
What did that even mean?
Of course, and as if any of that wasn't confusing enough, the specialization point didn't make a lick of sense either.
Classless were not supposed to earn advancement points. Not for skills, not for abilities, and certainly not for specializations. That was the entire point of being classless, wasn't it? The exploits, the workarounds, the constant struggle to keep your story and your alias in check… Alyse had taught him that the classless exploited everything they had, carefully replicating a class style without ever actually being able to achieve it—to become it.
For a classless, specializations were just another tool to manipulate. But you had to work hard to get it, and even harder to keep it. That was the supposed price you paid for your classless nature. Alyse had said so, had told him how difficult it would be to master a specialization, and how tedious it would be to have to hide it while he worked towards mastering it.
And right here, right now, sage had deigned to simply give it to him for what? For free? for nothing?
If he wasn't classed, and he wasn't exactly classless either, just what the hell was he?
***
[Sage ---> System Notification]
> You've received a unique drop [Thundermaw Amulet (Raided)]
> Do you accept?
***
"Trelen?"
Blychert blinked several times slowly and looked up from his sage terminal.
He'd fallen somewhat oblivious to his surroundings in the last couple of minutes, so much so that he hadn't even noticed the dark, endless chamber in which they'd originally entered and fought Kubranul, had seemingly disappeared around them entirely. Their surroundings were little more than the familiar corridors of the sixth floor of the dungeon. With no sign that they had ever traversed such a mysterious place at all, mind their shared experience, it was certainly an ominous sensation.
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"Kagal, can you see to Trelen's wounds?" Nelkaar's voice asked, a slight worry in her tone.
The swordsman had since removed her helmet, revealing her eyes to be the familiar crimson color as Bly remembered, not blue and gold. He didn't have the energy to speak about it, or anything else for that matter. As such, the dwarven paladin came to Blychert's side and kneeled beside him, immediately beginning to cast a series of spells, just as Bly accepted the drop on his terminal.
"Surprised you're still conscious at all, young man." Kagal furrowed his brow, as the cooling sensation of healing magic filled Bly's body, replacing the thrum of his own sputtering mana, "After all the casting we've been through today, I'm stunned that you even had the mana to pull off a spell of that quality. It was a dual casting, no?"
Blychert nodded, slow and wordlessly.
"Hm." Kagal smirked, "You kids are getting bolder with your magic every year, I swear it… it's just a miracle you aren't in the red! If this is all you stand to lose," He gestured towards Bly's left hand, "Well, I might just call that a blessing."
"How did you manage it, anyway?" Jhannrick's croaky voice said from over Bly's shoulder. The wizard walked with a bit of a limp, but otherwise seemed to be okay, "Hell, I was practically on my limit from all the crap we went through just to meet up with you lot! Never mind the dragon…"
"…Lucky, I guess." Bly mumbled with a shrug.
He'd put it all on the line just to do his part. All of the guilt he felt was briefly absolved in the moment that Nelkaar severed Kubranul's head from his neck. He just wanted to be helpful, like a real sorcerer. For a moment, it felt like he was exactly that.
Reality, however, was much different.
On the cold, hard floor of the dungeon, he was just Blychert, a classless who'd nearly gotten everyone killed. Kubranul had said it, hadn't he? That Bly's presence had stirred him? Whatever that meant, and whatever Blychert's ties to all of this really were, it was abundantly clear that the anomaly in the Gleaming Caves wasn't just a coincidence. Hell, maybe that creature—that "pale lady" meant for all of this to happen to him.
Why couldn't he just be normal?
Why did he have to be a danger to everyone around him all the time?
"They can be regenerated." Nelkaar's voice broke through Bly's innermost thoughts suddenly. She offered a plain smile, and said, "Your fingers. We take care of our own, isn't that right, Jhannrick?"
"You kidding, Nel?" Jhannrick snickered, "I'm buying this kid dinner for at least a week."
Bly couldn't help but smile faintly.
He wondered what he would have done without the likes of Nelkaar, Jhannrick, or the others… if it had been Bold Arrow here in their stead? Maybe it was best not to dwell on things like that, but he couldn't help it. All of these powerful adventurers, and Kubranul had nearly overpowered them so easily. So nearly…
"This wasn't a regular floor boss." Nazojan's voice said abruptly, and the massive orc's silhouette came into view a moment later. The rage that had filled him moments ago seemed to have subsided. In its place, a quiet and terrifying demeanor, though his voice still carried a certain strength in its depths. "Nelkaar… I will only ask you this once. Did the circumstances of Prince Skeggan's injuries, or your subsequent investigation of the seventh floor… did you provoke the initiation of a raid sequence?"
Raid sequence? Bly thought with a furrowed brow.
The orc guardian came to a halt within a few inches of Nelkaar, his expression completely devoid of the good nature he'd showed towards Bly. Nel was tall, but he was taller and stronger. Bly had no doubt she could beat him in swordplay, but he certainly had the physical advantage so up close as he was.
Nelkaar seemed to pause, before she nodded, "I see it too. The experience allotment?"
"Hmph." Nazojan grunted, grinding the end of his battleaxe into the stone at his feet, "I don't deal with numbers. I deal with monsters. And yet, I know what a floor boss is supposed to yield like the back of my hand. Shifting events, unmarked locations on previously mapped floors, and if I'm not mistaken… I have no doubt that if pressed, someone in this room will have obtained an item drop listed as having been raided!"
Blychert's heart nearly skipped a beat.
What was he supposed to do here? Reveal the item? Keep it secret? Would that make things better or worse for Nelkaar? He had no way of knowing who he should support, and both of them had done right by him up until now. Bly didn't want things to escalate, but he certainly understood where Naz was coming from. Hell, even he wanted answers to why he'd been separated from his party and forced to fight. Or at least, he wanted a different answer than the one that involved him being responsible for waking a raid boss, one that killed two adventurers, including one of Naz's party members.
Begrudgingly, Bly realized the right thing to do was probably to confirm Naz's claim, and so he nervously began to open up his sage terminal.
"You're indeed correct." Nelkaar replied unexpectedly, causing Bly to stop what he was doing. Nelkaar then opened her own sage terminal, and produced an item that resembled a golden circlet, holding it up for all to see, "I received this item shortly after slaying the dragon. It… it is marked as a raided item."
Murmurs and whispers from some of the others filled the room. Blychert still wasn't certain what it all meant. He wasn't necessarily familiar with raids, given his lack of dungeon experience, but he'd heard the term before. He understood that they weren't commonplace, and that they supposedly were tough, but beyond that he couldn't say.
"Nazojan, I do not know any more than you do." Nelkaar continued, turning towards the guardian promptly, "And I do not know why this happened, nor do I understand the circumstances in which it manifested, that is the truth. For that reason, I suggest we leave the dungeon immediately. Things appear to have been restored to some semblance of normalcy. We can reconvene outside the dungeon."
Nazojan bit his lip, growled, and said, "…Very well."
Everyone readied themselves to move out thereafter, though it was a silent and bleak affair. The bodies of Taren and Hugo were prepared for transport, or as best as they could be, and everyone moved at a dragging pace. They were all exhausted, physically and mentally drained, and it might have made sense to rest first. But then, Bly presumed that everyone wanted to get out of the dungeon as much as he did, and so they were just going to have to wait for a reprieve.
Bly was sitting alone in a corner of the corridor, awaiting the last of the preparations, when Nelkaar approached him.
"Are you alright?" She asked, a sincere tone of voice, "Your wounds aren't bothering you too much, I hope?"
Bly shrugged, "I think I'll live."
Nelkaar nodded. The dim glow of Velanni's light spell did little for the extremely pale color of Nelkaar's face, though she smiled faintly, "I ought to commend your courage. You fought bravely, Trelen. Thank you."
"Oh, uh— sure." Bly said in a fluster. He awkwardly raised his right hand to scratch the back of his head, which was a matted, sweaty mess, as he added with his own smile, "Least I could do."
Curiously, Nelkaar seemed to pause for a long while thereafter. Her lips parted, as if she wanted to say something, but they pressed together just as quickly. Blychert wasn't sure why she was staring at him so intently, but it wasn't exactly the most comfortable game of staring he'd had with someone.
"Trelen…" Nelkaar's gaze dropped, her voice was low, barely greater than a whisper. She lifted her eyes, and they narrowed at him, "Is there something you wish to tell me?"
"Uh—" Bly stammered.
He was suddenly reminded of Alyse's theatrics, though Nelkaar didn't seem to be toying with him at all. In fact, her expression was stone-cold genuine, as if she really believed there was something he wanted to say to her.
Well, there were probably a dozen things he wanted to say. But even if he did tell her everything, and even if she didn't freak out on him, or just kill him outright, would she even believe him? Nelkaar seemed like she had a lot of problems going on in her life already, who was Blychert to add a whole, heaping list onto that pile?
Then again, he might've been able to help with whatever it was she was investigating. Something about a prince? At the very least, he could share what Kubranul had said. But then, wouldn't he just be exposing himself? How was he supposed to know how anyone would react? Xander was fine, but that guy had his own crimes to cover up.
The line between sorcerer and classless wasn't getting any less blurry, and Bly was suddenly way more involved in certain things that either Bartolo or Alyse would have condoned, much less would have allowed.
Frankly, he was holding on by the skin of his teeth. One bad slip up, and he wasn't sure even sage could pull him back from over the edge. The void of Kubranul's chamber was just a taste, Bly was certain of it.
Blychert shook his head, "…I don't think so. I think I'm just ready to get out of here."
Nelkaar nodded belatedly, an expression that was neither here nor there, and said, "Very well. Let's be off."
Bly was suddenly convinced she didn't believe him. Then again, he couldn't say he blamed her. Either way, he'd cross that bridge when he needed to. Or at least, when he knew he could fully trust Nelkaar.
A swordsman of her level? Any sour disposition towards Blychert or his classless nature, he'd be dead before he even knew what had hit him. If it wasn't clear that Bly needed to tell Bartolo everything before, it was now. But even more than that…
He really needed to speak with Alyse.