The World's First Monk (OCs, Isekai, LitRPG, Fantasy)

[Sahqoreyth]

Prologue: Arcadian Genesis

Here we go. This is the Prologue to the following story, essentially an exposition dump, from the perspective of our story's Gods. Why Arcadia is the way it is, and the outlining of certain world-defining events that make things the way they are by the time our protag shows up.
For ease of reading and coherency, I'll be splitting this up into several sections, so take this as your warning: the chapters are long, longer by far than the Prologue.

I advise getting comfy before reading. I will endeavor to keep you all entertained throughout the length of the tale to come.

As always, I hope you enjoy my attempt at a 'proper isekai'.​

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The Age of Creation ​

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In the silent starry void there was only Laurelin.

A being mere mortals would classify as a Goddess, she had blonde hair that was, somehow, also silver and sparkled like the void through which she traveled. Her garment, such as it was, also blended well with her surroundings, deep blue and cascading with stars, it was a gift she wore to protect her from the cold darkness of the void, on her long journey. She sought something new, in the vastness of space untouched by other Divine hands or darker powers. Something she could call her own. Something far from any other disturbances in the cluttered Multiverse. Something...unique.

Time has little meaning to a being like her, but it still passes, and much of it flowed past as the Multiverse continued to turn and churn beyond her sight, but she did not look back. She had a promise to keep. Eventually, in that massive black void of swirling stars, not far from the expanding edges of the known Multiverse, she came upon a sphere of black stone and earth, alone, listless in the vast empty vacuum. A planetoid of considerable size, far flung from whatever star system it had formed from uncountable millennia in the past, it was vast, cold, ancient, and empty. Laurelin's beauteous visage finally turned up in a smile.

It was free real estate.

"Galdurath."

She spoke but a single word, a single sound that should not have been able to exist in the vacuum of space, let alone travel through it, and yet, it did so. For there was one dear to her who had now waited quite a long time to hear her voice.

He appeared as a Wizard stereotype made manifest in a flash of divine magical power, with arcane prowess few Gods could claim to match or equal. Where her skin was glowing golden and pale, his was shifting shades of blue. Where her garment was simple and flowing, his own was a leftover of his mortal beginnings, an Artifact enhanced by his own hand, possessing great and useful magic, which manifested as finely tailored blue robes with golden trim and shifting arcane patterns imbued into the now divinely enhanced weave. Their communication with one another had long transcended words, and thus she understood just how long she had taken. How much he had missed her presence, and how sorry she was for taking so very long. Time had little meaning to them, but it had still passed, and now finally the long wait was over. They embraced in the void above their chosen planet in the middle of nowhere, and took a moment to simply enjoy each other's presence. In mortal measures of time, Laurelin held onto her husband for days, but being what they were, and where they were, time might as well have not existed.

Before things could turn lewd or romantic, they descended to the mass of rock and stone she had discovered, and Galdurath found it to be suitable for their plans. Into the long-frozen core of the ancient planet, he placed the relic he had spent much of their time apart crafting, though he had long since perfected it. Mortal minds might have dubbed it a Genesis Engine, but Godly minds worked differently. They did not seek to constantly assign names to things, the relic was simply a tool, a device which reignited the planetary core, and began filling it with Magic.

Like a master weaver with a loom, Galdurath began to shine with bright blue aura as he wove lines of magic power around their new home. Divine magical energy which he had long since pumped into the device was now spent in creating an atmosphere, and beyond that, a magical shield that would protect their burgeoning world from the random ravages of space, powered forever by the relic that would continue to function, so long as they were both present. Being classifiable as Gods, eternity was theirs to do with as they pleased, and here, on this nameless chunk of rock and dirt catapulted into the far reaches of the cosmos from the dawn of Everything, they would make their permanent home. Far from any who would interfere, or so they believed. No meteors would impact their home, no alien species on star treks would find them, their world would be safe, hidden, and sequestered in solitude, free to grow and develop with their guidance as it kept its trajectory away from the central Multiverse and its many inhabitants.

Laurelin watched her husband work, utterly enamored by the display. He was very much showing off for her, but she found him quite attractive when he wielded magic on this scale. The shifting lines of magic blended beautifully with the stars, wrapping their world in their arcane embrace as Galdurath irrevocably tied them to the planet's core, and once the atmosphere formed, she began her own work. Where Laurelin walked, life began its gentle stir: forests broke free from the dark dirt and stone, seas of salty filled water poured from her hands and soon glimmered with the light of the stars and the lines of magic above. She shaped the continents randomly, but preferred a series of super-continents, as opposed to a world with many landmasses, or a truly unique geographical profile. Life would someday flourish here, and she preferred for it to flourish together, in the harmony she would promote.



When the pair again met at the crown of the world, Galdurath finally spoke, an easier feat now that there was air which could carry waves of sound. "What name shall we bestow upon our new home, my Love?"

The Goddess paused in her creation of cooling caps of ice upon the planet, and began to ponder a name for their creation. Knowing he had time, Galdurath imbued his magical shield with the life-sustaining light of a Sun, a light which would never fade, and which would, for the sake of his sanity, run on a standard twenty four hour cycle, equally splitting the day hours, and the night, with the appropriate lighting gradually shifting forever between each.

Amused by his continued creation, Laurelin finally said, after several shifts between day and night, "Arcadia."

Galdurath made a face at her, as he paused in the creation of what would become their own dwelling. Massive white stone towers rose to caress the sky, forming a bastion that bespoke the power of its inhabitants, that would also serve as a nexus for the energies now surging across the planet. "Not exactly original, but if you desire it to be so, so shall it be." He then shifted his head to look at the planetary core, and uttered the name with the power and purpose of a God.

"We dub thee...Arcadia."

With the basics set into motion, the seas, the skies, the mountains, the two Gods finally took their ease, and on that northernmost point, finally ended their long time apart in all the ways that mattered. The footsteps of a God leave a mark on such a world, therefor it follows that coitus does much the same. Galdurath had plenty of centuries with which to plan their reunion, and his Laurelin was quite receptive to his efforts. Thus did Arcadia bloom, a paradise nurtured by the touch of the Gods as the spark of life quite literally rolled across the entire planetary sphere, several times, before they finally, truly rested.

The Era of Awakening ​

For years beyond mortal reckoning, Arcadia knew only that gentle embrace, the genuine love of two beings on a level of power not often seen, alone and undisturbed. But it could not last, nor did they intend it to.

With time, somewhat familiar creatures began to roam freely across the grasslands and clustered in the deep glens of the world's forests. Those who began their existence as minor cells began to grow exponentially. Some, nurtured themselves on the remnants of Laurelin's passing tread. Others, nurtured themselves on the beings who preferred eating her flora. Green kingdoms flourished across each of the continents of the world, and a natural cycle of flora and fauna was established.

In the centuries that followed Arcadia's initial flourishing, the planet teemed with new beginnings, yet both Gods sensed that something greater awaited. Their partnership had created an entire realm, but in their hearts, they craved an heir, another who would share in their joys and burdens, an echo of their bond to guide Arcadia forward.

So it was that Laurelin felt within herself a stirring unlike any other; the spark of a third Divine presence. In time, she bore a son whose birth shook the very world with his cries. Though no mortals walked the land yet, the creatures that roamed the forests and skies paused in silent reverence as the usually invisible weave of leylines crossing the world became visible from that moment forward, a chorus of cosmic energies that celebrated his son's arrival. Galdurath, joy shining in his azure eyes, held the newborn deity in his arms while Laurelin gazed upon him with wonder.



They named him Dagorion, a name woven from threads of possibility, carrying a hint of conflict yet unkindled. From the moment he opened his eyes, a curious gleam lit his golden gaze, as if he already beheld the boundless potential lurking beneath Arcadia's tranquil surface.

While Dagorion slumbered in infancy and Laurelin and Galdurath focused their attention on their beloved son, in time, sentient mortal races, free-willed beings with the intelligence and awareness to appreciate the beauties of Arcadia and add their own sparks of creativity began to come forth from flora and fauna both. Their biological patterns drew purposeful inspiration from countless other worlds across the Multiverse, copying certain archetypes which Laurelin had woven into the world's creation herself. This had also been done for the fauna of their new world, every Phylum, from the lowliest worms to the mightiest land mammals, was of her design, and though she could not and did not take credit for their original formation, she did endow every single one with the same potential to one day achieve sentience. Not all would do so, but those species that did desire attributes suited for sentience, namely large, complex brains, would find their path easier than on any other world in the Multiverse. She had not discriminated either; species from all across the known realms had, and would, come to populate Arcadia. Large cats, canids, equines, even the somewhat iconic horsebirds commonly known in countless realms as Chocobos, there were few biological patterns she had not bothered learning and copying for this endeavor.

Laurelin's first and dearest creation however, were the elves, the first race to emerge with full sentience, and the ones most closely bound to her life-giving essence. They formed from living trees in Arcadia's oldest groves, giving them slender bodies, sharp senses, and a deep attunement to natural magic, and the source of it. Laurelin sensed them immediately, and the gentle beings quickly became her favorites forever more. Some elves preferred the bright sunlight and open fields, developing lighter complexions and an affinity for tending the natural world. Others gravitated to caves and deep delves within the earth, their skin darker and their arts more focused on the forging of metals by means of magic. These 'dark elves' as they would come to be known, became fast followers of Galdurath, but though they possessed skill and ingenuity, they were not his favorites, for there was another template of sentience he himself had woven into the fauna of the world, with the hope that one day, they would grow into what he knew they could become.



From the quick-witted primates that flourished in Arcadia's canopied jungles, Galdurath encouraged the growth of a race that valued curiosity and adaptability. Humans, as he called them, possessed slightly shorter (in Godly measurement) lifespans than elves but compensated with bold ambition and an eagerness to push the boundaries of possibility. Galdurath hoped these mortals would learn from the mistakes of other worlds the human race occupied, evolving beyond any flaws their genetic ancestors might have known. He had made them smarter, but more predisposed to compassion and ingenuity than violence, insatiable greed, and a near-constant lust for reproduction. Despite his alterations, humanity was and always would be by far the most fecund race on Arcadia.

Though elves and humans were first, they were by no means the last. Feline folk both slender and mighty, bipedal lupine tribes who hunted their large prey in packs, rabbit-eared and near-human looking beings who became fast allies and friends of the elves, humanoid ursine warriors who preferred to hunt and live in the cold climates of Arcadia's mountains, and feathery avian folk with wings and hands both soared or stalked Arcadia's wilderness as time passed.

Each subgroup evolved from the template of land, sea, and air bound creatures Laurelin had encouraged to grow, typically walking upright, and speaking with a single common tongue taught to them by an often disguised Galdurath, multitudes of new sentient species soon joined the growing global community established by humans and elves. These races inherited both bestial instincts like hunting, tunneling, or swift flight, and the capacity for reason and culture. Over time, the so-called 'beast races' diversified even more, but with the guidance of their Gods, the humans and elves welcomed each without pride nor prejudice, overjoyed to welcome new members into what they saw as a global family focused on progressing their collective technology to make all of their lives comfortable, happy, and easy. It was, by every metric, a Golden Age.

Born of melding bloodlines between elves, men, and the more beast like races, centaur folk soon appeared as well with combined torsos of elves and men, but with powerful equine, leonine, or otherwise bestial lower halves, blending speed and strength with eloquent speech. These genetic mixes ended up preferring to roam Arcadia's vast plains in nomadic caravans, believing that freedom of movement was life's greatest gift.

Along Arcadia's coasts and coral reefs, sentients formed from the fauna of the oceans thrived as guardians of the seas. Some were like humanoid whales or dolphins while, with time, others again blending the ever abundant elves and humans with seafolk traits became colloquially known as merfolk. They formed underwater cities from living reefs and possessed an innate gift for controlling water magic. Some merfolk embraced more adventurous lifestyles, venturing onto land in search of trade or alliances while others remained in the depths, content to reign in the watery deeps, but always they kept the peace, unwilling to be the first of the races to sow discord. In this first age of Arcadia, things were, at least for a time, genuinely and truly peaceful. There wasn't a complete lack of conflict, but by and large the sentient peoples got along, wary of their Gods and unwilling to even contemplate what their loving creator's wrath might look like. Wrath, was the furthest thing from their Divine minds, as their young son and bountiful world brought them unmatched joy.

The Empyrean Age ​

When the young Dagorion finally was introduced to the flourishing community of the sentient races, he found himself surrounded by a kaleidoscope of various mortals, each forging small communities near fresh rivers or deep within forests. Though many worshiped Laurelin, giving thanks for her abundant life and nourishment, just as many turned to Galdurath in search of arcane knowledge, or grateful for the knowledge he had imparted upon them to make their lives and survival among the elements easier. All of them, regardless of species, did not know what to make of Dagorion, for while he was an honored child of their beloved Gods, his domain was not yet defined, for he himself had not yet found something that called to his very core, and melded with his powers and personality.

As the years passed in the northern realm of the Gods, Dagorion grew into his divine gifts. He walked among mortals in various guises, observing how they lived and thrived. At first, he admired the ways they competed: wrestling for sport, racing across fields, honing archery skills, even staging friendly tests of physical strength. While some basic weapons had arisen to combat the more violent and predatory creatures of the natural world, the sentient races had yet to turn them on each other, though Galdurath knew that day would, inevitably, come. Laurelin chose to believe otherwise, unwilling to give up her faith in their beautiful creations. She could not conceive of a world where their creations, those she saw also as their children, in a sense, turned on each other in violence. Here in this hidden corner of the Multiverse, she argued, things would finally be different. Galdurath let her win that argument, but he also knew well the nature of mortals. He knew time would prove him right, but he promised his beloved that he would never lose faith in them, even if they did inevitably fall to violence, corruption, and wanton slaughter as so very many Universes had before them.

Galdurath was not idle, and thus in this age of unity and peace, he founded, in the world capital of Primus upon the equator, the Galdurian Academy of Magic, where he reigned as headmaster for the duration of what would one day be called the Empyrean Age. His efforts bore fruit. The sentient races of Arcadia advanced at a pace so rapid, it almost frightened their creators. With the molding and nurturing of the best and brightest the world had to offer, regardless of species or place of origin, the mysteries of Magic as a concept, and a power source, were unraveled. Runes once known only to the Lord of Magic became commonplace. Those who could conjure, control, and form magic into patterns to do their bidding, or cause a specific effect began appearing in great numbers, and Galdurath made a point of ensuring that these 'spell casters' adhered to his morals, as well as Laurelin's.



With magic as a source of power, society advanced rapidly in terms of technology, and though the wisest scholars of Arcadia slowly plied the natural forces of existence, they had a tendency to find a single method that worked, using magic, and not innovate further. Galdurath, in his eagerness to raise up multiple generations of brilliant minds, did not see this for the stagnation it would one day cause. As life became easier thanks to the advent of advanced magitech devices, typically powered by natural crystals refined into geometric shapes suited to guide and store magic, the culture of the people also boomed.

Everything, from waste disposal to the simple act of reading, was powered by magic, and slowly, a hierarchy began to form as it became clear that those with an affinity for drawing and shaping Arcadia's energies were being held in higher regard than their peers, who simply lacked their potential. The invention of currency, further established this hierarchy, as those with magical skill became better suited to earning larger quantities of their world's coins, colloquially known as Gil. This was done entirely on purpose, and would be historically regarded as a bad decision. Laurelin was openly against the use of currency from the beginning, but it was an argument that she lost to Galdurath, and the growing needs of a world-spanning society that required large amounts of trade to function and progress.

Naturally, with the rise of a hierarchy and experimenting with things like adding magic to axes or swords, their culture developed a needlessly gaudy but challenging tradition, of having duels between the highest level of spell casters. Like everything else on Arcadia, self defense had also become powered by magic. Dagorion reveled in these contests of skill, as they made his blood ignite in a manner he had never experienced, and could never get enough of. In them he saw the spark of true progress, mortals pushing themselves beyond their limits to new heights of strength and skill with a ferocity that called to him on a instinctual level. The simple honor in a fair, even contest of strength had a deep appeal.



Meanwhile, his parents remained enraptured in their own blossoming paradise. Laurelin continued to sow new seeds of life, as the flora of Arcadia grew ever taller, and its many cities became even more connected. Despite the progress of society, nature was not ignored, and their pollution was simply teleported elsewhere. Galdurath obsessively tested the boundaries of his own magic, refining Arcadia's leylines and weaving more advanced protective wards around the planet. His knowledge of the Multiverse and its many denizens, and variations of denizens, had instilled him with perhaps not entirely unwarranted paranoia. Their love for each other, and for the world they had built, was so profound that Dagorion's budding discontent and obsession with combat went unnoticed for far too long.

Over time, a restlessness took hold in his heart. Winning a contest of magical strength or an archery tournament only satisfied him briefly, for his skill was God tier and soon the clever mortals began to easily see through his disguises once his skills and reputation were recognized. Obviously, no Arcadian alive in that era would've ever dared to even accidentally injure the young God. In the face of these rigged contests. Dagorion began to crave something deeper, more visceral, a challenge that would raise the stakes, quicken the pulse, and truly ignite the soul to heights his father couldn't imagine. He wandered the outskirts of mortal lands, whispering to the more predatory beastkin and stoking their ancient instincts to hunt and battle for territory. He desperately sought one among the mighty beastial warriors who might rival his power, and yet, he always proved superior.

A flicker of unsettling darkness accompanied him on his travels to the far corners of the world. Laurelin was not blind to her son, for he tried stoking discontent among the elves and humans as well, albeit with less success. From distant eons of cosmic wandering, she finally recognized his growing darkness as a vestige of the evil that had dominated one of the oldest and largest parts of the Multiverse, one from which she had taken her own name, now forever lost in the evil shadow of its Dark Lord.

Even on Arcadia, this darkness, one might even call it the oldest, first, or original evil, had managed to seep past all of Galdurath's wards.

The Age of Murder


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Dagorion, enthralled by the adrenaline of battle, eventually crossed that line between contest and slaughter, and in his rage, committed the world's first murder.

As the blood stained his hands and the visceral shock of seeing someone cut down filled his darkening eyes, he embraced his savagery, finally eagerly believing he had found his purpose. He and those who followed him, mostly members of the beast races, but no small amount of humans as well, also engaged in the act of murdering those who were weaker than they, simply because they could. The power, the excitement, the depraved sense of superiority it gave them opened them to the cosmos's natural darkness, which had been all too eager to flood the peaceful world for ages now.

Mortals who embraced Dagorion's teachings and methods found themselves physically and spiritually twisted by darkness, losing the gentle shape Laurelin had blessed them with. Their forms grew monstrous, reflecting the violence within, and soon other, darker, and all too familiar patterns associated across the Multiverse with monsters began to form as well. Orcs, goblins, trolls, and other warped races began appearing in Arcadia's dark corners, reveling in pillaging, bloodshed, and murder. They established primitive war-camps in remote places, devouring those they conquered in body and mind, heedless of how sick and depraved such things were to those with morals instilled by the Gods.

Upon discovering the atrocities arising in her beloved realm, Laurelin was horrified. Galdurath, equally dismayed by the sheer number of departed souls arriving in their northern abode at the peak of the world to reincarnate. They came in states of terror or despair, and he finally confronted Dagorion. Yet, once he did so, he found his once curious son was barely recognizable. Renouncing his old name with a scornful, mocking, laugh, he claimed a new name.

Dagorath, the God of War, a new identity fully aligned with chaos and bloodshed. In a final act of defiance, Dagorath empowered his monstrous champions to a new level of power.

They would come to be known by the decent, life-loving races as the Demon Lords, commanders endowed with slivers of Dagorath's divine power, who set entire civilizations ablaze in their war paths.

Realizing the existential threat posed by these Demon Lords, Galdurath formed an elite cadre of spell casters known as the Arc Wardens. These chosen mages, warriors, and scholars stood at the forefront of Arcadia's defense. Under Galdurath's guidance, they tracked each Demon Lord's rise and unified the mortal races to purge the abominations, with great success. Each conflict saw the Arc Warden's skills grow, and their methods of killing Dagorath's abominations became more practiced and methodical. Under the threat of death, their technology, powered by Galdurath's will and his follower's ingenuity, advanced even further, as weapons of war gave the Wardens an inherent understanding of how to create other new and wondrous things. Artifacts of war, yes, but also magical energy grids, sturdier building materials, and devices that could send spells to ranges far beyond those that mortals could reach on their own power.

Despite these advances, too many people continued to fall before the Demon Lords. Laurelin was inconsolable, and Galdurath was forced to get creative. His son wanted to empower his followers? The God of Magic could do the same. Thus was the concept of Status Magic given to Arcadia's people, and on the eve of his retirement from the newly renamed Galdurian Arc Warden Academy, he described the concept of classes, advanced classes, and divinely granted access to intense concentrations of magic that were known simply as skills.

Though he explained much, Galdurath also, quite purposefully, left much of the system unexplained, which helped encourage more advanced minds to test its limits, and in so doing, expand them. The part that infuriated Dagorath most, was that it was now the planet's natural power, and the power of the Warden's own natural abilities, that elevated them to potential that could rival his Demon Lords. His father wasted not a drop of his power constantly fueling his Wardens, nor did he have to wait for that power to recoup.

Heroic adventurers, those with skills in certain types of magic or weapons, began to answer the Arc Wardens' call from across the world, forging permanent alliances between elves, humans, beastfolk, and merfolk to vanquish the infernal armies of the God of War. Though many lives were lost, the Arc Wardens managed to destroy each Demon Lord within a few years of their rise, restoring a fragile peace for a time. Yet every victory left scars on Arcadia's surface, the hearts of its people, and their weeping Goddess. With each new Demon Lord her despair grew, and for a long time, no one, not even her husband, could rouse her from her sorrow. Each soul who passed through her divine abode after dying to her son's abominations only reinforced her despair, and stoked Galdurath's anger.

The Age of Wardenfire ​

Unable to bear the ongoing carnage twisting her most cherished creations directly caused by her beloved baby boy, Laurelin withdrew in a deep depression to the far northern pole, into the ethereal complex that mortals revered as the Divine Fortress of Eldarheim. Enclosed by glacial peaks and hidden behind swirling magical auroras, it became a sanctuary where she could grieve and reflect. Her presence in the mortal realm grew all but nonexistent.

Meanwhile, Galdurath took more direct responsibility for Arcadia's future. He reasoned that by continuously advancing magic and technology, mortals could better protect themselves from Dagorath's twisted outbursts, and once a Demon Lord could rise and be felled within a day, he hoped that his son would see the foolish futility of his actions, and renounce this senseless bloodshed. With this goal in mind, he encouraged the Arc Wardens to refine their spellcraft, build grand cities brimming with arcane marvels, and improve their capacity to fight monsters. The power of flight was soon achieved, as advanced classes were discovered and unlocked. Magically powered ships began soaring the skies, and regularly rained down spells and martially skilled adventurers who were unrivaled in combat onto wandering hordes of monsters.

Though she had retreated in despair, Laurelin could not entirely ignore the mortal's cries for help. Driven by compassion from the genuine pleas of her favored races, she gifted certain priests and chosen adventurers with healing miracles and enhancement magic, blessings that empowered heroes to stand against monsters and other terrors when the darkness seemed all-consuming. Knowing she would find herself eventually, Galdurath had, naturally, incorporated classes who could give life as well as take it, and thus more natural oriented classes also began appearing in the groups that formed to put down Dagorath's spawn. It was the Warden's bravery that eventually drew her from her malaise, and she raised several of those heroic souls to the status of Divine Paragon, immortal and divinely blessed Champions who managed to reach beyond the System's level cap of two hundred. She kept these powerufl warrior's souls sequestered and hidden in the far northern pole of the planet. A plan was slowly forming in her mind, and for it to work in conjunction with Galdurath's efforts, she knew each mortal race would require a Champion.



Over the course of many wars, heroic adventurers, often times aided by Laurelin's holy spells from one of her sages, druids, and clerics, drove back each successive Demon Lord. Over time, adventuring became both profession and entertainment, with the Arc Wardens codifying official ranks and bestowing ever more grandiose insignias within their hierarchy. There were, after all, numerous foul monsters in the world now, and the strongest of warriors should not be wasted wiping out tiny goblin nests, when fresher adventurers could do it as well, and gain more experience as a result.

There were also higher levels of monster, as Dagorath made use of the planet's System as well. Like adventurer, monsters also gained classes, it just took them much longer. The worst of these, were the dragons. Trained and grown by Dagorath himself, the winged monstrosities were his attempt at mirroring his mother, and her kind of magic. His success managed to forever darken a large swath of her precious planet, and that more than anything, made her determined to stop her son. Permanently.

One way or another, he would atone for what he had become. The Goddess of Life began sharing her own skills with her most devoted followers, and almost overnight, adventurers became much harder to kill.



To better organize the constant flow of would-be heroes, the Arc Wardens established the global organization known simply as the Adventurer's Guild. With Galdurath's aid (and amusement, for he had been one such adventurer himself before he was ever a God), they laid out six core tiers of advancement, each reflecting the adventurer's skill, magical aptitude, and overall contributions to Arcadia's defense. The lowest and first of these tiers was bronze, where fresh recruits were given simple tasks like gathering herbs and ores for potions and weapons, or wiping out nests of smaller monsters.

Next was steel, by far the largest rank, this was where those with average skills that were unlikely to ever really advance ended up. The majority of adventurers journeyed and formed parties at this rank, and often they formed guilds within the Adventurer's Guild of multiple steel ranked parties, with which they could handle larger forces. Above them were mithril ranked adventurers, those who had true potential and never stopped advancing. They had the drive and luck needed to survive dangerous quests, and they did not know fear, thus they delved ever deeper into monster hordes, sometimes perhaps a bit too heedless of the dangers they could discover.

Adamantine adventurers were considered the elite, and were often granted titles or lands under an Arc Warden's domain. They were largely tasked with training bronze parties into steel ranked ones, and with them leading said parties, kept their domains safe from the ever encroaching violence seeking monstrosities of the God of War. Above them were runic ranked adventurers, genuine heroes who were often blessed by one of the Gods in a particular skill or fighting style, fearless and well equipped with magical artifacts gained through lifetimes of questing and dungeon delving, their experiences hardened them into monster killing one-man armies. They tended not to form parties, and if they did, only did so with other runic or adamantine ranked adventurers, and usually not for very long. There were of course exceptions to that rule, as certain advanced classes, like knights, began forming orders to pass on their skills to the next generation in a manner that would survive eons. Luckily, the Status Magic also helped with this. As long as one was the same class as the skill they desired to learn, training and practice would eventually grant it.

Finally, at the top of he hierarchy, but still considered lesser than an Arc Warden, draconic ranked adventurers were the final ace up the sleeve of every domain. Only usually appearing when a calamity class monster showed up, they were considered living legends, and often, led entire branches of the Adventurer's Guild. Monsters on that level were almost always one of Dagorath's dragons, or a monstrosity on par with one. Once one reached that status, becoming inducted into the Arc Wardens was all but guaranteed, and Arc Wardens, or those with their level of magical potential, were considered draconic class adventurers by default, once they reached a certain level. Naturally, their offspring were also typically near or at the same level as their forebears, and with time, special academies formed in Arcadia's largest cities to train these ridiculously skilled children into the next generation of living legends, often expediting their rise through the Adventurer's Guild and its ranks and being granted top tier items and relics from the start of their journeys.

The Dungeon Era


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Once again, time passed, and over millennia, this hierarchy fostered a functional, if stratified, society. The magically supreme became Arc Wardens, while the rest of the people, namely those without incredible magical aptitude, were relegated to the menial, dangerous, and darker side of their society. With power, came corruption, and Arc Wardens went from being defenders of the planet, to people who could ruin a commoner's entire life if they felt like doing so.

Remarkably, after a particularly nasty Demon Lord who'd reigned for forty years of darkness was slain by a party of draconic ranked adventurers led by the most powerful Arc Warden of the Age of Wardenfire, Arcadia entered an extended era of calm. No monstrous armies emerged to threaten the capitals, and the dreaded southern polar regions where Dagorath's corrupt creatures once marched forth from, lay quiet. The world at large turned its attention to commerce, art, and technological progress under Galdurath's guiding hand.

Human blacksmiths invented new metal alloys, elves honed magical horticulture that could feed entire cities, and adventurers safeguarded roads from lingering monsters. Draconic tier heroes faded into legend. Some believed the threat of war had truly ended, as the peaceful era lasted for centuries.



Yet this peace brought unintended consequences. With no great battles to unify them and only small groups of monsters popping up more and more infrequently, the mortal races gradually sank into complacency. The Arc Wardens, flush with wealth and privilege, grew preoccupied with maintaining their lofty status. Taxes rose, magical artifacts remained locked behind bureaucratic charters, and corruption festered in the guildhalls. Without epic quests to sponsor, local leaders hoarded resources for their own comfort.

In an effort to stymie this stagnation, Galdurath used his magic and the world-spanning leylines to occasionally spawn Dungeons, full of magic ore, rare herbs, and of course, high tier loot created by the randomness of the arcane. These dungeons, powered by the core of the world itself, naturally, and by design, attracted Dagorath's minions, splitting his armies of monsters up across the world, and beyond even his reach from his seat of power on the South Pole, the dread fortress of Golgorrath. In time, the monsters within the numerous Dungeons ended up forming their own kingdoms, separate from Dagorath, though they still universally worshiped him as their God, and he would, sometimes, begrudgingly empower them, mostly out of irritation, so that his father's precious adventurers delving greedly for loot would find only despair and ruin waiting in those dark labyrinths.

As the centuries rolled on, despite the success of Dungeons keeping the adventurers sharp and questing, a mounting disparity crystalized. Those born with considerable magic or resource connections enjoyed the privileges of advanced artifacts, easy access to healing, and comfortable city homes. Meanwhile, commoners, especially those with scant magical talent, scraped by in cramped urban districts or rural settlements far from the Guild's protection.

Arcadia had once championed unity in the face of Demon Lords, but now wealth and status were concentrated among the Arc Wardens and high-ranking adventurers who turned wealthy off of their Dungeon delving, leaving the majority of mortals without large magical reserves vulnerable to exploitation, and surges of low level monsters capable of leaving Dungeons. The gilded white towers of Arcadia's glorious cities that had once symbolized hope became monuments to inequality.

Laurelin witnessed this slow rot from the solitude of her northern fortress. Her tears once more fell upon its white stone ramparts as she recalled the dream she and Galdurath had once shared. Had they truly condemned their children to a life of hierarchical oppression?

She saw no easy solution. If she swept down and revoked the Arc Wardens' power, what new chaos might fill that vacuum in this age of unchecked greed?



Arcadia stood on the brink of another pivotal chapter in its history, one shaped not by Demon Lords or monstrous invasions, but by the moral decay of a stagnating society. Even Galdurath, ever the optimist, sensed that Arcadia's magic-laden brilliance was becoming dull, when so many of the just over two billion inhabitants of the modern era remained excluded from its fruits.

Laurelin, unwilling to see her creation slip further into cruelty, contemplated a drastic measure. She recalled her and Galdurath's wanderings in the broader Multiverse, where lost civilizations sometimes found salvation in an unexpected traveler or a revolutionary concept from beyond their world. Perhaps an outside influence could jolt Arcadia awake, reminding them of their original ideals and bridging the gulf between the powerless majority and the privileged few.

With that final resolution, the Goddess of Life stirred from her hidden domain, a glimmer of resolve shining in her sorrowful eyes. Her divine mind drifted across the far reaches of space and time, calling forth a champion unsullied by Arcadia's rigid hierarchy, a brave, kind soul who might inspire hope rather than merely enforce order, and change their decaying society for the better. Yet, in her deepest heart, she hoped they would not just shake the foundations of this new, and to her perspective, modern Arcadia. She also hoped for a soul that would bring redemption, atonement, and balance to her long lost baby boy, and with that wish in her heart, her divinely guided gaze settled upon the Sol system, and third rock floating around its Sun.

---

 

[Sahqoreyth]

Chapter 1: Truck-kun Doesn't Brake For Heroes

I tried going first person for this one, because isekai, and I'd say it went well. The perspective will be mostly third person from Chapter 2 onward.​

---

"So what are your plans for this weekend? Anything fun?"

"Ehh. Sleep. Video games. Weed. The usual." I replied to my boss. She was an older woman with decades of experience as the one who coordinated us trainers, and helped our puppers get adopted for the animal shelter we worked at. She was a bit hard for most people to get along with, apparently, but I'd never had a problem. Mostly because my work ethic wasn't garbage. She was older in her years, so 'twenty six' instead of the usual twenty five I defaulted to for women's ages in the name of survival, which meant that if heavy shit needed to be lifted, I lifted it. If there was menial data entry to do, I did it. Mucking out the kennels was a shared job, but I didn't complain, and all the animals tended to like me, even if at first some of the skittish rescues saw my thick six foot two frame and quailed in terror. After some food, pets, and belly rubs, in that order, they typically warmed up to me and my magic fingers.

My boss gave me a look. "Weed and video games huh? Y'know most men stop doing that when they're almost thirty."

I smirked back at her, knowingly. "You would think that, but actually, no. Most modern guys default to exactly that, especially when they're single and their love life is D.O.A." One of our coworkers clapped out the series of fast claps from the theme song of Friends, as she apparently heard me. My boss and I chuckled. "At least, the ones that I know do, anyway. Besides, you know me. All about that work/life balance and keeping that stuff in control. Just enough weed to take the edge off, just enough video games to recharge my brain after hearing Miss Barksalot for six hours." Miss Barksalot had an actual name, but nobody ever heard it, because she never shut the fuck up when she saw new humans, and her high pitched bark could, and had, driven people to the edge of madness. It would take her months before she acclimated to a new person's presence.

My boss gave me a different look then, amused as usual by my aloof answer, her tone turned more serious. "Is your leg still bothering you? You should really get that looked at."





My leg, broken in an incident I didn't like thinking about because how it had happened was depressingly embarrassing, had been repaired with modern science, screws, plates, and good ol' American eye bulging six digit hospital bills. Naturally, the insurance company refused to cover it. Somehow, multiple X rays, a 'bone fixator,' and a whole bunch of other ridiculously expensive treatments were deemed 'not medically necessary'. That left me holding the bag. Four times now I'd had to harass them through endless phone tag with their automated robots, trying to get them to cover what they'd promised to cover back when I'd been in the hospital. Back then, I'd had a feeling their words were utter BS, but I'd been drugged out of my mind and didn't think to get the rep's name or anything in writing. Their scam attempts, to this day, still continued, as every few months I'd get a brand new bill with the same charges all over again. This kind of refusal, claiming vital treatments weren't necessary, was a depressingly common scam by insurance companies all across America. Yet they acted surprised when one of their CEOs ended up shot, repeatedly, in the head, in broad daylight, right on the street.

Some people called the murderer a hero. Others called him a monster. Me, I saw him as somewhere in between. I understood his frustration; these rich corporate assholes desperately needed a wake up call. Maybe a less fatal one would have been better, but peaceful protests didn't seem to move the needle anymore, and corporate greed showed no signs of slowing down. They wanted to limit anesthesia next, or at least how much they paid for it, with limits that would hit mid-surgery. Literally robbing people on the operating table. I had a feeling more people were going to snap under the financial strain and that would lead to more deaths, especially in a country as gun filled as America. It was a recipe for bloodbath, but I wanted no part of that mess. No amount of medical debt was worth ending up in our even worse Prison system and, obviously, murder is bad, m'kay.

My leg still hurt, despite my best efforts to make it stronger. I'd done my rehab, rolled the joint through the alphabet so many times I became sick of letters, and made the best purchase of my life, a stationary exercise bike that also sometimes helped with my weight problem. And it still fucking hurt. All. The. Time. But Mary Jane dulled that edge, and gave me fun thoughts, so I saw the tradeoff as fair.

"I'm fine." I said, mostly meaning it. "Once my fat ass slims down, it'll get better. Probably."





"And if it doesn't, you should go see a Doctor." My boss admonished, but there was no way in Hell I'd go to a Doctor for anything less than a fatal injury at this point. When simple things like X Rays cost over half a grand, (or probably more, by now) it was simply not a feasible option. Not if I wanted to pay rent. And eat. "Go take Falkor for a walk. Then you can clock out, and start your bachelor's weekend." Her tone turned to gentle mockery at the end, but it was all in good fun. Even if it was depressingly accurate. There would very likely be no female presences in my immediate future, and I had long since come to terms with that.

Falkor, was an adorable Goldendoodle with what I liked to call 'Velociraptor-level Intelligence', namely, because the white furred floofy fucker could open doors, and had a habit of running off. Running, because of the aforementioned metal leg, was not my strong suit, but I could do it. Briefly. For a price I'd feel later. Despite his escape artistry, I loved that doodle. He was one of those old dogs who'd been at the shelter for years, and nobody wanted, but had gotten his name because of his ears and those sleepy, derpy eyes of his that looked like the Luckdragon from The NeverEnding Story. I liked him, he liked me, and we had an understanding.

There was wisdom in those old eyes, and I had a feeling he could tell my leg wasn't the best. So if he kept his shit in line, and his pace slow, he'd get treats after our daily walks, even though he much preferred running around. Age had not slowed him. I spoiled him rotten with milk bones, because he was one of our goodest boys, and deserved all three of them. He was also pretty old, and had had a rough life as a puppy, though apparently he'd had an easier life once he'd arrived at the shelter. His floofy white tail started wagging, thumping against the carpeted floor as I found him lounging in a sunbeam, one of the last puppers still out in our common room this late on a Friday, mostly because he didn't cause trouble and had a tendency to keep the troublemakers in line until we wrangled them.





"Heyyy, Falkor." I said, grinning at him, since apparently canines could interpret facial expressions. "Ready for a Walk!?" His floofy ears perked up at his second favorite word, but he rolled onto his back, tongue lolling, his tail still wagging and shaking his entire body as it did, his belly prominently and hopefully displayed for a nice rub.

I couldn't deny this boi, and gave him a solid sixty seconds of belly rubs, before I had to stand upright again. "Alright bud, let's go." He rolled onto his floofy feet, and sat, wiggling excitedly as I put his leash on.

New York City was as busy as ever, and Falkor had his mouth open and his tongue lolling. His sleepy, derpy eyes looked at everyone they passed with joy, but most New Yorkers didn't pay him any mind. His tail started wagging again, as we came upon probably his favorite human, outside the shelter. I, perhaps unwisely, gave him some lead on the automatic retracting leash, as I shouted at the old, overweight, Italian stereotype that ran the closest street hot dog vendor. "Yo! Tony! Incoming!"

"Falkor! Amico mio!" The old man started giving the old doodle some rough but affectionate scritches. Falkor preferred gentle touches, but there wasn't much he wouldn't do for Old Tony's 'nearly' expired hot dogs. "You again, cucciolone! Always begging. Here, take this, before it goes bad!"

I walked up behind Falkor, as the old doggo gnoshed on his meat. Tony grinned knowingly at me. "And how about you, amico? Hungry today?"





I shook my head. "I had a big lunch, Tony. Thank you, though."

The old man winked and tapped his nose. "I see you. Trying to keep the weight off, eh? Maybe land a woman?" He waggled his bushy salt and pepper eyebrow.

I chuckle snorted. "Women cost money, Tony. I don't have that kind of disposable income."

Tony nodded in agreement. Tony nodded in agreement. "I get it, amico. Hey, you're perspicace, eh? What do you think of il Presidente's tariffs? Mi nipote says he's a genius. Buys his...how do you say…'meem coin.' But I don't know... Starting fights with allies over trade, it's brutto affare. Nothing good ever comes from a war of wallets."

I nodded in agreement, as I expected 'il Presidente' to drive the country into an economic crater, like he'd done last time, in the middle of a plague, and like every Republican had before him. But that was what Americans wanted, apparently.

It was as I sighed my way through a halfhearted conversation about the imminent and probable collapse of the country that I noticed Falkor was quite far from me, in the middle of a rather busy street, tail wagging as he nosed up next to a young little kiddo, who was holding a fresh hot dog no doubt from Tony's cart. The sight was adorable, and low-key restored some of my faith in humanity. But it didn't last.

A loud and somehow ominous horn ripped through the air, and I got a sinking feeling in my chest. Tony said something in a tone of alarm, but I didn't register his words, I was already moving. The child froze as the horn ripped through the air, Falkor stayed by his side, ears and tail raised in response to the oncoming noise. Being large and slow though, I ended up in the middle of the road with them as the truck responsible for the loud horn somehow came hurtling around the nearest corner at a speed that should have tipped it over, but didn't. Falkor's tail stopped wagging as he turned toward me, eyes widening in something close to confusion. He barked once, short, sharp, and almost like a plea. The kiddo clung to Falkor's fur, his big brown eyes reflecting nothing but fear. He didn't cry. He just stood there, petrified, waiting for someone to do something.

That someone, I decided, had to be me.

I scooped them both up without thinking, the motion rough but necessary. Falkor yelped softly and immediately started trying to wriggle free, and the kid gasped as I cradled them awkwardly against my chest. I didn't even bother trying to run, as I knew I was too slow, and the truck was moving too fast. Time was against us, so, I leapt for it, desperate to at least get the pupper and the child to the curb.

My eyes widened as I heard an unpleasant and chillingly familiar snap, from my bad leg, under the weight of my fat ass, the child, and Falkor, and I lost my balance as I landed, my brave, heroic leap becoming more of an awkward, flailing stumble. Gritting my teeth through the intense pain rapidly rising through my ankle and leg, I used my stupidly long limbs to my advantage, and rougher than I meant to, but not enough to harm them, I tossed the little one onto the curb, with a hard landing on his tiny bottom. He seemed surprised, but unhurt. Falkor also yelped, not liking what I had to do, but as he whirled and looked at me, and my sad, knowing smile, he understood. I'd stumbled backwards, practically back to the middle of the road, and my ankle was turned at a bad angle. I could see it in his wise, derpy eyes. He knew I couldn't move in time.





But I didn't just sit there. Nerd that I was, I'd seen enough isekai to know how this went. I tried to get up, but my ankle was properly fucked, too fucked to even stand on, just like when I'd first broken it. I was not getting up again, and though I contemplated trying to roll away, truck-kun would not be denied. The last thing I saw was Falkor, bless his fluffy heart, barking frantically and running towards me, a loyal boy to the end, even though I knew it was too late. The truck was simply moving too fast, and my rational brain already knew the math. A truck that size and weight, with its considerable mass going well over the posted speed limit of thirty five. I was as fucked as my leg was. The blaring horn's roar became overpowering, and then, the world went white.

As the sound of truck-kun's horn faded into unnerving silence, a golden glow suffused the blank void I found myself in, bathing the space with warmth. It wasn't just light; it was a presence, one that I could somehow sense. It was powerful...but there was genuine kindness there. A 'good vibe' as the Zoomers would call it. Slowly, the glow coalesced into a humanoid shape, and before me stood a woman who could only be described as divinely beautiful.

She was impossibly perfect in terms of aesthetics, with long hair that shimmered like gold, yet also had a silver sheen to it as well, cascading in waves down her back. Her skin and eyes had a faint golden glow, and her eyes were large and expressive. Her flowing blue dress, adorned with intricate starry patterns, seemed alive, constantly shifting like the night sky.

"Welcome, Hero." She said, her voice melodic and soothing as if it bypassed my ears and spoke directly to my soul. "You may call me Laurelin."

I blinked, still trying to process where I was or, more accurately, the fact that I really had just been obliterated by a speeding truck. "Am I... dead?"

She gave a small, understanding smile and nodded gracefully. "In a sense, yes. Your mortal life on Earth has ended, but your story is far from over. You are the one that I sensed. The one that I Chose, this time. The one that will redeem my beloved world. Arcadia."

"Chose?" I echoed dumbly, still trying to make sense of everything. "Did...did your choice send that fucking truck my way!? Because that hurt! A lot!"

Her laugh was light, like wind through leaves. "Not...quite." Her expression sobered, as she continued to speak. "Your mortal coil was doomed to end soon...I simply...altered your ultimate Fate, a bit. Tested the strength of your character for myself. I must say, I am not disappointed. Your kind treatment of others in your life and jobs in society, and your decisions in your final moments, showed great courage and selflessness. You risked everything to save an innocent child and a loyal companion, knowing the likely cost and despite your injury slowing you. Such heroism is exactly what I had hoped for."





I blinked in disbelief. "Wai- wha- how- I was going to die soon!?"

Laurelin nodded, sadly. "I will not reveal the path of a Fate now avoided...but know that your end would have hurt far more than the truck. It gave you a quick end, and a chance for heroism."

I tried to blink, but couldn't. It was at that point, that I realized my body was gone. That made sense. It was probably in a hundred pieces by now. My eyes, or whatever I was using to perceive my surroundings, saw what was left of me as a floating speck of coalesced energy which, I had an unnerving feeling, would have simply dispersed elsewhere into the universe, had Laurelin not had her eye upon me.

Finally, I said, "What about...what about my family? My life on Earth? Falkor? Are he and the kiddo safe, at least?"

Laurelin's expression shifted to sadness, and I felt a surge of despair and worry. "Your loyal friend...was with you, at the end. Heedless of the danger, he ran to help you...and sadly, shared your Fate... The child is alive, and I spared him from seeing what becomes of a body after a fast moving vehicles strikes it. He will honor your memory the rest of his life, and become a close friend of your family...assuming the strands of Fate do not shift overmuch, from my tampering. Your death will be ruled a hit-and-run, and the NYPD will not be able to find the truck that ended you."





I was still processing that Falkor had died too. I wanted to cry, but couldn't. I had no tear ducts, all I could do was radiate sorrow, in silence. Laurelin, Goddess that she was, sensed this. "If it alleviates your pain...you should know that loyal Falkor chose to join you. His own end was also quite close, this he was aware of...and he could not just leave you, the one who fed him such delicious treats and gave such kind belly rubs, to depart this world alone."

My sorrow only quadrupled, and my soulspark shuddered. "Oh dear..." Laurelin murmured. "I...I apologize. I had not expected his will to overpower his instinct to survive. He was not supposed to perish like that, but rather in his sleep, quietly and peacefully."

"Laurelin..." I finally croaked with whatever I was using to produce my voice, "That's not...it's not helping. I...I'm glad I know, but..." The sorrow now mixed with guilt, as I had to come to terms with the fact that my friendly, derpy boi had gone out with me, because I was getting isekai'd, apparently. Because that was a thing that actually happened, apparently. The nerdy weeb within me was, admittedly, hyped, but the cost had been poor Falkor... Questions began forming within what was left of my mind, but Laurelin remained silent, letting me process and cope. Mentally, silently, I asked if she could hear my thoughts. She didn't answer, but I wasn't entirely convinced.

Regardless, this information created a new resolve in me. If I was going to get yeeted to another life in another world to solve its problems for what seemed to be a genuinely Good aligned Deity, I was going to do it right, dammit. Finally, I said, "Tell me...of Arcadia." I knew of the name, that it had, if I recalled correctly, Grecian origins, related to a lush and verdant paradise. I also had enough pop culture awareness to recognize her own name, and the Legends from whence it came. That alone was quite interesting to my nerdy disembodied ass, but I resolved to save the topic for perhaps a more appropriate time. As kind a Goddess as Laurelin was, I knew there was likely a limit to what she would divulge here, at the start of whatever otherwordly madness awaited me.





Laurelin smiled at me, and said, "Arcadia is a verdant and magic-filled paradise, created by myself and my beloved husband, but it is teetering on the edge of stagnation and corruption. The magically gifted ruling elites of our society, known to all as the Arc Wardens, have grown complacent, and those without enough magical power to become adventurers or nobility suffer under their rule. The Arc Wardens and those with powerful magic make up about five percent of Arcadia's roughly two billion souls. The rest, are relegated to lower caste lives, and often they suffer for it. The peaceful balance of life and magic that my world was founded upon is eroding, thanks to the steps we have had to take in response to...to..."

Her voice grew somber, and the golden glow around her dimmed slightly as she continued her exposition dump. "In response to the barbaric actions of my son. Once a paragon of noble competition and honor, he has fallen into...pure darkness. He sows chaos and strife, and and revels in slaughter. The Mortals who worship him change into monstrous forms. To sow the chaos and disorder he desires, he has been unleashing the arbiters of his will who have been blessed by shards of his Divine power. My people have named them Demon Lords. The children of my world cry out for a savior, and...I still hold hope that, some how, some day, my beloved Dagorion will come to his senses and repent his dark deeds...though at this point...I know not if Arcadia will let him."

I frowned, trying to take it all in. "But...why choose me? I mean...I've been aware I'm kinder than most other Humans for some time now, but I'm not a saint. There are those in my world who I genuinely hated. And honestly, Goddess Laurelin...it sounds like those corrupting your world are not so different from the kind of people I despised. People born with privilege, who abuse it at every opportunity."





Her gaze softened. "You are far more than your emotions, dear Hero. Your strong moral fiber, your capacity for compassion, and your willingness to act in the face of fear, all these qualities make you the perfect candidate, and...I know well that there will be bloodshed, if and when the ruling Arc Wardens and the hierarchy they have created are overturned. I would have you guide them, and those who come after them, as best you can. I will, of course, aid you in this, as will my husband, the God of Magic, Galdurath. Arcadia needs someone who understands the value of Balance, someone who can inspire change, and guide them back to the right path. Together, I believe we can accomplish this."

"So, save your world from overpowered magical elitists, save the soul of a corrupted Dark God, and guide your completely foreign society back to the right moral path...no pressure..." I muttered at the end of my recap, earning another chuckle from her. "Alright, let's say I agree. What's the plan?"

Her mirth faded once again. "I believe your world is familiar with this concept, of being brought to another world during your life, or upon your death. Though many among you believe it to be mere fantasy. In keeping with your culture, I shall grant you three Boons, to aid you in your next life. You may decide what they are for yourself."





I frowned, but then remembered, I no longer had a face. "So...what are my limitations, exactly?"

Laurelin smirked at me, a glint of mischief in her divine eyes. "What limits do you believe a Deity possesses? There is not much I could not grant you, Hero."

A little exasperated, I responded, "Could...you give me an example?"

Her smirk widened. "If you desire the ability to travel time with a magical musical instrument whilst wielding a powerful and somewhat sentient sword, complete with green clothing and a kit of various and useful tools, I could make it so. If you wish for your body to be able to enter a 'Super' state, by perhaps becoming more muscular, blonde haired, and ever more powerful, even when you're beaten to within an inch of your life, that is within my power. If you desire Telekinesis, and the ability to influence thoughts and reality itself, whilst clad in stately brown robes and armed with a sword of focused plasma, I could make that happen as well. The plasma swords, Lightsabers, I believe your people called them, are quite a popular choice."

I was, in a word, stunned. "I...I don't even...You're telling me I could be a time-traveling Super Saiyan with a freaking Lightsaber!?" I said, combining all three, to test the boundaries of her offer. Once more, she chuckled.

"Complete with a sentient blue time traveling phone box, if you wish it."





My disbelief magnified. "That's just...what even...HOW!? How do you even know all these...oh, right, Deity, I guess there's some level of Omnipotence, but you said other Universes have Lightsabers too? Like...what? Help me understand, please."

Laurelin seemed quite amused by my emotional state, but for me, it felt like an emotional roller coaster. Mercifully, she exposited some more information for my whirling mind. "I can confirm for you; the Multiverse is incomprehensibly vast, and the tropes and heroes you spent your life learning of may very well exist, somewhere within it, in some form. Likely, a form you're familiar with, studious pop culture enjoyer that you were. Mortal cultures are often affected by what Galdurath, myself, and other beings on our level call Dimensional Echoes. These echoes are like...waves of energy that effect a part of reality your species, in your Universe at least, has yet to understand, or even discover provably exists. These waves have patterns embedded into them which radiate across the entirety of the Multiverse, and have a habit of manifesting in forms that you, and your considerable collection of cultural knowledge, will likely recognize, if you choose the ability to traverse the Multiverse as one of your Boons."

"I'm...I'm gonna need a minute..." I said, properly stunned. It was all a bit much. After a moment, I said, "Does it have to be three? Can I acquire more Boons? Can you give me, say, five instead of three?"

Her kind eyes turned sharper, as she stared at the energy that comprised my soul. "You are well aware the dangers of Greed, young Hero. However...because the task I have given you is so monumental, and dear to my heart, I will tell you this: there are limits. Your Boons will grow and change, as you do in Arcadia, but they will start off comparatively weak. Your actions and efforts will be the catalyst for this change. To answer your question...yes. You may acquire more than three. I will not yet divulge how, though, nor will I grant more than three, at this point. On Arcadia, great deeds are heavily rewarded, so I recommend choosing Boons that will help you achieve that greatness."





Slight panic set in, as I realized I could very easily screw myself with the wrong setup, but thankfully, I'd seen that done before, and had a general idea of what would likely end up being useful in a reincarnation situation. One thing was clear, though. I needed more context. Cautious of the new sharpness in her kind eyes, I probed some more. "In most examples of this scenario on my world, the Heroes in question often end up with surprise or unexpected, but not unwelcome, aid from their Divine patrons in the form of minor blessings. Should I expect the same? And if so, could you tell me what they are? I don't want to waste such an important gift on overlap."

Laurelin was quiet for longer than expected, and I started to wonder if I'd overstepped. Finally, she spoke. "Your new body will possess the magical potential of an Arc Warden. This will inevitably cement your status among the magical elite, for there are good souls among them that could become Great, with the right guidance. With this potential, will come access to what we call Status Magic, a concept I believe you should be familiar with. It will provide a display not unlike your 'video games' to aid you in managing your skills, attributes, and any items you gather. You will also be able to manipulate your natural magical energy in whatever manner you desire, though on Arcadia, this is primarily done by casting what your people call Spells. In addition to that, you will speak and understand the spoken and written language of my world, without having to learn it the hard way."

I nodded, which equated to me bobbing up and down in place. "I umm, assume your world has some form of currency, as well?"

Laurelin nodded. "Your skills will allow you to acquire as much as you need, provided you make the effort."

Painfully aware that her answers were getting shorter and less expository, I thought quickly and quietly, for a long time.





If Arcadia was a world inundated with, assuming the Goddess was accurate and truthful, around one hundred million magically gifted people who, if the 'Dimensional Echo' pattern held, were likely some kind of adventurer ranked by skill and magical aptitude, then there was no point in asking for ninth level spells. If spells could be cast, I had no doubt they could be Counterspelled, and it was here that my D&D knowledge blended with anime, as I recalled a particular protagonist who was famous, or perhaps more accurately infamous for his unique and unprecedented ability to literally cut through the absurdly powerful spells the wizards in his universe had at their disposal with his giant black devil sword. I wasn't obnoxiously loud and energetic, nor would I be declaring myself the Wizard King, but if I wanted fame, breaking people's magic on a world that seemed to be all but drowning in it was a good way to get noticed.

Being a powerful spellcaster among powerful spellcasters would not be enough to do what Laurelin desired of me. I had to connect with both the overpowered magical elite, and the downtrodden and likely less magically gifted lower castes of her society, if I wanted to truly bring about lasting changes. Thus, I tentatively asked another question unrelated to Boons. "Goddess Laurelin," I started with respect in my tone, "I believe I have the shape of what I will need for my first Boons. But...I do need to know...do all people of Arcadia have magic within them? Or are there those born without any at all?"

She blinked, her eyes becoming less intense as she seemed...genuinely confused as to why I wanted, nay, needed to know. "It is...exceedingly rare for someone to be born without any magic within them whatsoever. My Galdurath's blessings upon the world and his role in its creation guarantee that. There are methods of stripping someone's magical power away...but only if they are already very magically weak, and possess a truly small amount of power. Most of our technology requires at least a tiny bit of magic for the people to use it."





I asked for more exposition, then. What kind of races lived there? Were those with magic organized into a hierarchy below Arc Wardens? Did the various races and beastfolk get along, or were they divided and prejudiced? What stats and attributes exactly, did Status Magic display, and what exactly did each one connect to?

I learned Arcadia had a veritable kaleidoscope of sentient species, there was indeed an Adventurer's Guild, complete with ranking system, quests, and even loot-spawning Dungeons (which would be the main source of my monetary wealth, apparently), and that all these races did in fact get along. There were exceptions of course, the all too familiar mindsets of those who claimed their kind was somehow naturally superior to everyone else, but it seemed Laurelin and Galdurath had done a fantastic job of nipping prejudice in the bud. This made my job infinitely easier.

Attributes and stats, praise the Goddess, were apparently the same as they tended to be universally. Intelligence was linked to magic power, and spell potency. Strength would make me hit things harder, make me able to last longer in fights, take more heavy hits and be able to stay alive and standing, and able to lift increasingly heavier objects. Dexterity helped with dodging, sneakiness, and things like shooting arrows, mastering single handed light blades and their sword styles, or throwing knives. Charisma would help with social situations, and could apparently cure even my natural awkwardness, or so Laurelin had assured me. I would need all of them, to be capable of facing down a God, and convincing him to end his millennia long efforts to create chaos and disorder.





To my great joy for the plan forming within my mind, stamina was, apparently, not a measured stat. One's 'hit points' as I'd called them, were directly tied to one's physical strength stat, and automagically grew as one increased their overall level. Levels, I had learned, also increased all of these stats by at least one point, so my goal was not impossible, but, I had been warned that the stronger I grew, the more likely that my levels would result in boosting some stats and not others, depending on the path I took. If I neglected any, it would, eventually, show up as a price I would have to pay.

"Alright, fair Goddess." I said, projecting confidence, as a plan came together. "I am decided on my initial Boons." Laurelin's eyes widened, and the smile had returned. I hoped she was even more convinced of my worthiness, after my lengthy adjustment period to the fact that I was dead, so was my little floofy buddy, and the fact that I was apparently being isekai'd. Hopefully, my choices didn't disappoint her, or end up being objectively useless.

"First!" I practically shouted, "I want my new body to be extremely durable! I want to be able to tank a hit from Truck-kun, and live! Just make me extremely, naturally, tough!" That made her smile, but she nodded. This was, by far, my most selfish Boon. After breaking twice in my last life, I was absolutely terrified of what the beasts she had mentioned could and would do to me. But so long as my body wasn't as fragile as a basic human's, I could be exactly who she wanted me to be, I was sure. It also played into my plan pretty cleverly, at least from my perspective. Time would tell if I was right.

"Second!" I continued, "I want to greatly increase my Intelligence stat from the jump, so that I can bring my considerable knowledge of Kung Fu, specifically the Martial Arts, with me to Arcadia! I also believe the knowledge I accrued in my past life, especially the knowledge related to the philosophies behind Kung Fu will greatly aid your world." To be clear, I'd never been in a proper contest of the physical arts of Kung Fu, mainly because of my lack of physical fitness and then my injury, but I had learned the forms and practiced them, and with a body that wouldn't break, as well as Status Magic, a whole world of possibilities opened up before me.

It was here, that the Goddess interjected. "You may bring a Master's level of Martial Arts knowledge of a single Martial Art Style with you, not all of them. I will allow you to develop, learn, and master the ones you do not initially choose over time. Furthermore, you may keep some pieces of your previous life's knowledge, but things like, for example, how to split an Atom, or how your murderous Firearms work, will be erased."





I frowned a bit at that, or would have if I had a face, so instead I bobbed in place again. "In that case, I choose the Dragon Style. I'd still like to remember what I knew of Science though, Goddess. It's going to be a big help if I can convince the Arc Warden elites to listen or hear me out in exchange for otherwordly techniques and knowledge related to physics, fuel sources, and even crop farming. I spent much of my last life learning all sorts of useful things...though I uhh, never really got a chance to actually do most of them, or make use of said knowledge."

Laurelin was quiet for a moment, and then nodded. "I can sense your pure intentions. I will not cripple your understanding of your Earth Sciences, but know this: should you try to recreate your radioactive death bombs, your hand-held murder machines, or any other of the many devices you Earthlings use to slaughter each other, I will scrub your knowledge completely, and without warning. You may even not survive the process, or be left in a vegetative state for a time as a result."

I gulped audibly, despite not currently having a throat. "I'd never dream of creating such things, Goddess. Like you seem to...I also despise guns and nuclear weapons. My world started spiraling into the shitshow it's currently in once we advanced those two technologies specifically...and it's not going to get any better. You have my word, I will not deliver the knowledge of how to more efficiently end innocent lives to Arcadia, and if you wish it of me, I will even personally scour such knowledge so that it never has a chance to manifest, if you want me to." I figured a Fireball must be just as deadly as a gun, but for all I knew, there were wards to prevent casting spells for war in Arcadia's cities. Or, there were no such wards, and Laurelin simply wished for there not to be yet another way to easily take someone's life, on her planet. I got the sense she was very tired of seeing her children die to her son's wars, and the oppression of the caste system.





"Finally..." I said, somewhat less excitedly, as I knew my final Boon, that was probably closer to a Wish, in D&D terms. It was one I'd had since I'd manifested here, and learned what had befallen me, and my favorite floofy friend. "I want Falkor to come with me. He's a good boy...and he lost what time he had left of his comfy life because of me, short though it apparently was. That doggo lived every day to its fullest, and seemed to enjoy every minute. The least I can do is let him take part in my new one, and...it'd be nice to have someone from home, with me. So I don't get too homesick."

Laurelin's face shifted to a new expression then, and it took me longer than it perhaps should have to realize I'd made a Goddess tear up. "The love you two have for each other...genuinely stirs my heart. That Boon, my Hero, you can have for free. United in Death, you shall be united again in your new Life." Her hands moved, and glowed with golden light, then, a moment later, a smaller spark of energy not unlike mine, appeared in this golden voidplane alongside myself and Laurelin. Again, I felt the urge to tear up, as I heard Falkor's bark, and again, I had no eyes with which to cry.

"Heyyy, buddy." I said, and the bright little spark radiated excitement, and palpable joy as he heard my voice. I always knew I was one of his favorite humans, and in his long life at the shelter he'd had many, but it seemed I had greatly underestimated just how much he liked me. It made my soulspark shine a little brighter.

Laurelin gave us a moment as Falkor's spark excitedly bobbed around mine, and then quietly 'ahemmed'.





"Ahh, right, sorry." I said, still overcome with happiness that Falkor was even still here. She was really testing my emotional range today. "In that case...I want my final Boon to be a new body for Falkor. I want him to be a Dragon. But not just any Dragon..." I said, chuckling as I spoke, "He should be as his namesake was. A Luckdragon. A wise, friendly being, who has Fate on their side. The ability to fly the skies of Arcadia, his own magical abilities and stats, and...most importantly...I want him to be able to speak and understand Language, as we do."

Laurelin wiped another tear away, and nodded, giving us a large, genuine, and downright beautiful smile. Galdurath was a lucky man...God. "A worthy Boon for a worthy soul, and one easily granted. I had worried that Arcadia and the life you would lead would be a bit...rough for one as small and fluffy as Falkor was, but this Boon has rectified my concern. He will be a companion to you for as long as your new life lasts, and when it does eventually end again, some day, you will depart to whatever comes next together." Her smile faltered slightly, then. "On Arcadia...Dragons are historically seen as the greatest of my son's dark abominations. It took him many centuries to perfect the attributes you would give to a Dragon, but he did eventually succeed in creating them, and the devastation they wrought is not easily forgotten. Falkor shall bear my mark upon his brow, and his eyes shall shine with my Light. All who look upon him will know him as a Dragon created for good...and in time, who knows?" The author of every biological entity on Arcadia gave us a playful smirk. "Perhaps Falkor will not be the only Luckdragon."

The three of us laughed, and then Laurelin raised her hands, as they shone again with her divine power. "In your time deciding your Boons, we have managed to return to the space that Arcadia resides in. From this point on, your Path is your own, Hero. When next we meet, it will be on my beloved Arcadia."





The world went white again, but now, as before, Falkor was with me, and I could sense him. Feel him, actually. And also literally. As in, with the sense of touch common to sentient beings. A musty, but not unpleasant smell filled what I recognized as my nose, though I could immediately tell it had changed in both size and shape. Bit by bit, my senses reconnected with my new body, and by the time I opened my eyes, I could literally feel it in my bones. I was strong. Durable. Whole, and unbroken. The pain that had plagued the latter half of my Earthly life was finally, mercifully gone, and I felt better than I had in decades. Perhaps I really had been sick, back on Earth. Or something. It was unnerving to think I'd almost suffered a worse fate than getting mowed down by Truck-kun. I truly owed Goddess Laurelin, and resolved then, as I opened my new, still blue eyes, that I would help her recover her clearly dearly beloved son. Even if it killed me. Even if he broke me, for fun, a thousand times over.

No longer was I on the boring, Godless, and downright murderous planet Earth. This was a world that had been created and blessed by not one but two Gods, one who I had yet to even meet, and no matter how badly I broke here, I knew from Laurelin's description that healing magic, her magic, could repair me fully. I realized as I looked around the fairly well furnished bedroom we'd appeared in, just how raw of a deal we had back on Earth. For the last time in hopefully a long time, I put the thoughts of my depressingly doomed old world aside, and found a mirror.

My eyes were drawn first, to Falkor. I smirked, as apparently Laurelin either didn't know that Luckdragons, at least those from Fantasia, actually looked remarkably like dogs, or she had purposefully decided to mold his new and evidently quite young body after what dragons looked like on this world. His scales were white, his underbelly was soft, leathery, and a fitting creamy brown, he had two folded white wings, and their leathery flaps were also the same creamy brown. His eyes lacked pupils, and shone with an energetic golden light. As promised, upon his brown and just under his tiny pair of golden brown horns that were the same color as his claws, I could see the symbol of a golden tree that rose from his eyebrows to the beginning of the small white spikes that formed a crest on his head, and went all the way down to his lizard-like tail. His body was serpentine like a Chinese dragon, but he had the four legs and two wings of a western one as well. His tiny claws gripped my arm, and to my immense satisfaction, I barely felt any pain or discomfort from them.





Then, I saw myself. My eyes were, in fact, the exact same, but that was all I'd retained from my Earth body. I was young, I realized, as I raised a hand to feel my beardless face. Too young to even grow a beard. I immediately cast my eyes downward, and started examining my new, durable body from the bottom up, my new brow furrowing as I saw fine dark leather shoes on my large feet, a pair of pressed and quality black pants covering my male parts, and a royal blue school blazer trimmed with gold. It was most definitely a posh school uniform, and even had a name tag on the breast pocket. I squinted at it, and smirked. "Drake Long? Is...is that my name? Isn't that just...dragon dragon?" I was fairly sure, at least on Earth, that 'Long' was Chinese for 'dragon', like Kung Fu was Chinese for Martial Arts. Kind of. My old Earth memory flared up as I rolled the name in my head. Drake Long. I didn't dislike it, at all, but there was...something very familiar about it. Something I felt like I should have been able to remember, and would later hit myself for not immediately realizing.

Then, finally, and somewhat hesitantly, I looked at what I had to work with in terms of my new face. I'd gotten a bit of a peek, seeing my eyes, but I'd quickly cast them downwards. Falkor was draped regally around my broad shoulders, and I realized that I'd probably end up being the same height as I'd been on Earth, once I was no longer a fucking teenager. I spoke my first words in Arcadia then, as I took in my face, and unfurrowed my new, well-kept and less bushy eyebrows. My voice wasn't quite as deep, at least not yet anyway. "Ho-lee shit. I'm a teen!" I said, purposefully raising my voice, and to my chagrin, making it crack like it had the first time I'd suffered through puberty. "And...and I'm hot!?"

In my first life, I'd never really been able to tell what women qualified as attractive, for men. Or if I fit those parameters. I'd never asked, and only two women had confirmed I'd been easy on the eyes, though that was mostly because my own eyes had been, in their words, 'dreamy'. I could admit they had been my best feature, but now, I had multiple best features. A strong jawline, classically good looks, even with my face in an expression of shock, and topped off with slightly curly and somehow fitting isekai protagonist hair. It was shorter than my last body's, and I had a feeling that was because of whatever dress code this school I was apparently enrolled in had. Falkor huffed a chuckle on my shoulders, and I heard his voice for the first time. He sounded young, but there was still a rich tone to it that was deeper than my own.

"Handsome!" He boomed in my brain, and I had to admit, he was right.

 

[Sahqoreyth]

Chapter 2: Is It Wrong to Flirt With High Schoolers When I've Been Reborn As One?

For the record, yes, obviously yes.

Rose and most of the first year students are 17-18. Drake is a young boi because...reasons.​

---

"Draaake! Time for breakfast!"

Drake Long blinked in disbelief again, still coming to terms with his objectively hot teenager body, and the uniform he was wearing. Drake had no doubt Laurelin intended for him to go to some sort of high school. His mind was racing. Puberty. Again. Homework. Again. Tests. Drama. Cliques. Again. Greeeaaaat. Term papers about useless subjects. Trapped in an uncomfortable plastic seat for six or more hours. For years. Awesome.

The dark memories of a time in his past life he was eternally glad to have been over with were resurfacing with a vengeance. He'd been as much of an awkward nerd in his last high school as he'd been as a nearly thirty year old man. He hadn't been lucky in le romance either, as the father of the one girl he'd managed to woo as a teen had arrived in her room when he'd been 'lubricating the gates' and the relationship had never recovered after that.

Then, Drake blinked again, and looked at Falkor, who had a very bemused expression on his dragon face. "Wait…that voice…was that Laurelin?" He nodded, and they left what Drake assumed was his room, to find a rather absurdly large hallway with a high ceiling and many other closed doors along it. He decided to go left, as always, and came upon some stairs. Then, the smell of food hit them. Some kind of meat, and eggs, it seemed. Falkor smelled it too and Drake followed his forward-leaning dragon snout to the kitchen and dining area.



Goddess Laurelin was indeed there, in a lighter dress this time, blue and white and still filled with stars. She smiled as their eyes fell on the feast sitting on the dining table and said, "I figured you would appreciate a meal before heading off to the Academy."

Drake blinked. "Academy…? I just got here…as a teenager apparently…and now I'm going to a school of some sort?"

Laurelin nodded. "There's no better place to learn what you need to know! And you already know how to navigate one, so it should be no problem for you." Drake knew better than to argue. Her 'mom tone' would brook no truancy. "It's a 'boarding school' in Earth terminology, and the semester started a few days ago, just so you're aware." Drake hid his grimace as he had some lightly salted eggs.

"And it's all just…the same as what I know from Earth? Grades? Tests? Math, language, science, P.E, and…magic, probably?"

She smirked at him. "You got most of the courses just by guessing. I expect straight As from my chosen Hero." Drake groaned. Grades. Great. Awesome. Yay. He genuinely would've preferred a dank dungeon reeking with the stench of voided orc bowels, than more schooling. Both Laurelin and Falkor laughed at him, even as the dragon was munching on a small mountain of cooked sausages. "Falkor will be staying here, with me, for a time, while you get educated. I need to examine his growth, make sure it isn't stunted, and inform your instructors that they are not to harm him when he visits you. They do not allow pets, but I know I won't be able to keep him away forever."



Drake raised an eyebrow at her. "Is he…going to fit in this place, once he's grown?"

She chuckled again. "I take it you haven't looked outside yet. You should. It's quite a sight."

Nomming on a sausage of his own, Drake stood and strode towards the paned windows lining the far wall of the eating area, and gasped, as he beheld Arcadia's sky for the first time. There was no Sun, no star to warm the far flung planet. Magical lines of energy swirled through the sky, but above them, was a truly majestic rainbow nebula. "Holy shit…" Drake muttered, in awe. Falkor jumped on his shoulders again, and Drake watched his eyes widen as well, scratching underneath his chin as they took in the sight. Laurelin joined them, a moment later. "Is the view always like this?"

"Only from our palatial grounds." A new, deep male voice said. Drake turned and beheld what looked like a classic stereotype of a wizard. He seemed human, with long white hair, long white beard, kind but tired eyes, and blue robes trimmed with gold, not at all dissimilar from his uniform's color scheme, that glowed with faintly pulsing purple arcane patterns. "Greetings, Drake Long. I am Galdurath, husband of Laurelin, and God of Magic." He inclined his head, and after glancing at Falkor, Drake bowed low, and Falkor lowered his head as well.

Drake could tell that Galdurath didn't care for him. He was looking at the two isekai'd arrivals with veiled distaste, like an upper east-sider looked at a puddle of urine on a New York sidewalk. This did not bode well. Drake needed the two good aligned Gods to be firmly on his side. As Drake met his gaze evenly, his eyes narrowed slightly. "I am, genuinely, honored to meet you, Galdurath. Since your wife told me about you, I've been eager to meet an actual God of magic."



Galdurath's tone now echoed his eyes, with disdain. "I'm sure you have. Just so you're aware, your current year's tuition has been covered by us. For matters involving the Galdurian Arc Warden Academy, we will be acting personally as your Guardians." Galdurath stared him down with quiet intensity. "Obviously…we're very busy. So don't waste our time by having us need to be called in by your instructors. Future school years will be up to you to pay for. To graduate as a recognized Arc Warden, you need a Grade Point Average above three, and six consecutive years of schooling."

The teenager did the math, and tried not to grimace. He'd be twenty two by the time he finally got to adventure, assuming his grades, which had been lackluster at best back on Earth, were up to par. GREAT. Drake must have shown his disdain on his face, because Galdurath's white brows crashed together. "We can always return your worthless essence to the Earthsphere, if you prefer. Seeing you now…I genuinely cannot fathom what my wife sees in you, and seeing your achievements of your past life, all zero of them, I expect you to fail. Spectacularly."

"Galdurath!" Laurelin's fierce tone sliced through Drake's retort before it formed. "I chose him, with the same parameters that selected you once upon a time. You insult both yourself, and my intuition, before he's even stepped out the Fucking door!"

"My love, I-"

"Spare me!" She countered, and Drake made a mental note to never piss Laurelin off, but this had the vibe of a fight long in the making given how quickly she'd gone off, so he wisely shut the fuck up. "You've had nothing but disdain since I came up with this plan, you've whined about it incessantly, and now, atop all of this childish behavior from a God, you insult our Hero, a guest in our home, before he's so much as opened his Status Magic!? Go back to Primus. The sight of your countenance is enraging me."



With fury in his eyes aimed in Drake's direction, Galdurath wordlessly bamfed away in a flash of bright blue magic. Laurelin took a deep breath, and calmed herself. Drake noticed the sky then, and the clouds that had suddenly rolled in, now once again dispersed, revealing that gorgeous nebula in the space 'above' Arcadia. "I'm sorry about him…for all his wisdom and intellect, he can still succumb to Mortal flaws. He was once a Mortal like you, and his utter failure to stop our son and guide our society has made him frustrated. My summoning you here is proof that he has completely and utterly failed. You will have to impress him greatly, if you want him to respect you."

Drake had a feeling the God of Magic was plagued by other worries. He recognized that look in Galdurath's eye, the one he had when he saw his beloved wife. She was admittedly quite a catch, and were Drake in his position, he'd probably also be feeling some trepidation from her summoning another isekai protag to accomplish a task his own Godly powers failed to handle. "With respect, Goddess…I need to speak with him. Now. Letting this fester, is just going to cause more problems. I think things will go better though, if you're not around while we speak. Give me...ten minutes, and then bring me back here…after that, I'd like to at least look at my stats and get a feel for casting magic before I go to an elite Academy dedicated to it."

Laurelin sighed, and then waved a hand at him. A divine golden shield surrounded his person, clinging to his skin. "His powers won't negatively affect you, so long as this shield endures. Ten minutes." She said, tiredly, before bamfing him away. Drake nodded, and then, he was elsewhere.



Drake appeared in a genuinely awe inspiring wizard sanctum, worthy of a God. There was only one large window, showing the city, Primus no doubt, below. Galdurath was standing by a table full of arcane devices, and he scowled as he saw him appear. "You have some nerve, asking to come here uninvited." He stated plainly.

Drake nodded. "I apologize…both for that, and for what I'm about to say, if it offends you." That got his attention. "I'm sure…that dealing with the aftermath of your son turning evil is…a kind of stress I can't properly fathom. Having the fate of an entire world is, as you pointed out correctly, new to him. But all I want, Archmage Galdurath, is for you and I to be allies in his purpose here. I owe your wife, for saving me, and Falkor. I can see that losing your son has deeply hurt her…and I want to help. I know I can help. But I'm going to need your help as well, so, man to man, reincarnated Hero to reincarnated Hero, I want to give you my word on this. And you can use your Godly powers to confirm the truth of my words in my soul: I solemnly swear to help your son return from the darkness, to guide your precious world to a better path, and to make your family whole again. That's what your wife wants, I think." Galdurath was quiet, his angered expression lessened, as his words were processed. "And," Drake added, "I have absolutely no romantic intentions towards Goddess Laurelin. I just want to state that, for the record, here, at the start of what I hope is a long and mutually beneficial partnership." Drake offered a hand to him, and Galdurath looked at him, sighed, and then walked towards him.

As he took his hand in a firm shake, he said, "I remain skeptical…but…my wife is right. You have literally just arrived. You will make mistakes, as I did, and rise to the challenge set before you, as I did. You have my word, Drake Long, I will not hinder your quest. Until your oaths are fulfilled, you may see me as an ally." He let his hand go, and regarded Drake with, by his estimation, mildly less disdain. A puddle of dirty water, perhaps, as opposed to urine. Drake called that progress.

Drake bowed again, deeply. "In time, I hope we can also be friends. I'll do my best to prove worthy of your wife's appraisal, and, I'll put in a good word with her on the home front for you…if uhh, you wouldn't mind sending me back there."

Galdurath nodded again, his expression passive. "I will wish you luck, Drake Long." He said, as light engulfed his vision, and Drake was whisked back to the home of the Gods. "You will need it…" He muttered, before returning to his work, and shaking his head. A magicless soul from a magicless universe attending an academy dedicated solely to magic had a low probability of working out.



Falkor's scaly tail wagged as Drake returned, appearing in the kitchen this time, and Laurelin was once again at the table, quietly sipping what smelled like tea. "How was he?" She asked, eyes not leaving her cup. Drake smirked lightly. It was clear she cared as much for Galdurath as he did for her, but losing a son to evil's embrace would strain any marriage, divine or otherwise.

"Skeptical…perhaps credibly so, but amenable to helping me accomplish our mutual goals. I'm sure once I can prove somewhat competent, he'll warm up to me. Maybe once I clear a Dungeon or two." Drake chuckled.

Laurelin raised a brow at him. "That's quite a feat, you know." Drake blinked in confusion at her, and she elaborated. "There are thirty two known Dungeons that have appeared across the entirety of Arcadia. Seventeen of those, are what we call Demon Dungeons, and the creatures within them are quite strong. Stronger than Runic class Adventurers. Fortunately, at a certain level of power, they cannot leave the Dungeon without Dagorath's direct influence either personally or through a Demon Lord. Only low level monsters can leave, though they'll simply respawn if they're killed outside of a Dungeon. The only thing that ends their twisted souls permanently, is dying in a Dungeon, and while inside one, they are exponentially stronger. The Final Bosses of each Dungeon are considered comparable to the highest ranks of the Arc Wardens, and just reaching them takes quite a lot of resources, supply lines, and manpower. We do have Heroes who could beat them, but the interiors of Dungeons can be incomprehensibly vast. Like…the interior of a TARDIS, they're bigger on the inside, and entirely under the control of the Final Boss that rules over them."

Drake smirked, and ran his thumb across his nose, embracing the stereotype he'd been reincarnated into. "I'll say it again, then. I'll clear out a Dungeon, maybe even two!"

My bravado got the Goddess to chuckle. "In all our long history, since the Dungeons first started appearing, only five regular Dungeons have been fully cleared out. Two by the Elves, and three by Humans. And those only fell because they appeared well within the territory of those races, where supplies and strength of arms were plentiful. Perhaps before you start boasting, you should at least use your Status Magic."



"Right, let's see what awesome stats I've spawned with!" Drake said confidently, then, as the silence grew, Drake realized he actually had no idea how to cast magic. Like, at all. He'd been focusing his mind like a true anime protag, and yet, no screens appeared. Frowning, Drake raised a hand before him, but still, nothing happened. His mind raced, and settled on, perhaps, the status being summoned by both verbal and somatic components, as most spells Drake was familiar with required. "Status!" He said, still projecting confidence, but again, nothing happened.

Laurelin raised a brow. "Oh dear. You really have no idea how to open it, huh? I suppose that makes sense…you are from a Universe that utterly lacks magic. Just searching it was quite tiring, as a result, even for me." She set down her tea, and approached him, taking his hands. She closed them together, like he was about to pray, and then it occurred to him, the source of this world's magic was a God. Maybe praying was the main requirement. As an atheist in his former life, the idea simply hadn't occurred to him. Drake had to remember he was in a world with nature-defying powers, now. The old rules no longer applied. "Try again." Laurelin gently encouraged.

Calmer now, Drake tried praying, or at least, his best attempt at it. His parents had, like the majority of Earthlings, indoctrinated him into the same cult they'd been a part of before he could even form words, let alone properly comprehend what a God even was, as a concept. Drake hadn't been a genius, but he had been rational, and had his clever moments. And his not so clever moments. One such moment, had been noticing that Santa's handwriting just happened to be identical to his mom's. Once that childhood lie was gently exposed for what it was by his father, it hadn't taken him very long to apply the same logical thinking to religion. And, of course, actually reading the Bible had cemented his opinion of the Abrahamic God as a mass murdering, utterly evil entity, by every objective definition of the word. Galdurath might've been a bit self important, but he was not the kind to, for example, murder everyone on Arcadia by drowning an entire planet, or maul children by ordering the local wildlife around. Probably. That said, Drake made a note to look into both his and Laurelin's recorded divine acts, in this world. Drake doubted Laurelin had any sketchy actions in her past, but Galdurath seemed like the type who would, and had, done whatever he had to do to keep his precious home intact, by any means necessary. It was a good idea to know exactly who his new allies were.



"Status…" Drake said quietly, whilst thinking of the God of Magic. Drake could've sworn he felt a disembodied sense of irritation, but when he opened his eyes, it was to a floating blue screen with his handsome face in the top left corner, above which, was his name. He smirked. The layout was slightly different, streamlined, one might say, but the similarities were uncanny. "Say, Laurelin…who designed the layout for these Status sheets?"

She gave him a knowing smirk. "Why, that would be my dear husband."

Drake chuckled. "And uhh…I take it the honorable Galdurath had Dungeons and Dragons on his home planet? Another Dimensional Echo, perhaps?"

She giggled lightly, amused by his reaction. "Caverns and Wyverns, actually."

My eyes widened. "Oh, please tell me there's a variant here on Arcadia!" There was not much Drake had liked about the Earth. It was a violent, merciless place whose beauty was belied by the brutal nature of its natural laws. To survive, one had to consume another living thing's energy, and despite not liking that, it was just how things worked. You either ate, and lived, or ended up as food for animals, or plants, so they could live. But D&D had been a bright spot in an otherwise depressing timeline. For a time, anyway. All groups eventually drifted apart, his being no exception.

He'd actually started the group at one of his first jobs, as an after school counselor/teacher in what had essentially been a daycare for both 'normal' kids and those on the autism spectrum. When the time had come to sadly move on from that part-time job, the D&D group's parents had asked him to keep things going since the kiddos had so much fun with it, and he had agreed, after working out where they'd host things, and most importantly, when. Despite being almost twice their age, they'd continued playing D&D for many years, and those memories of hijinks and hilarity would never leave him. But this was a new life, and more D&D meant there would be more memories.



Laurelin tilted her head. "I've personally never cared for it…but I believe the nerds of my beloved world call their version Dungeons and Deities. My Galdurath was quite amused by it."

Drake grinned, turning back to his magical character sheet. "Mark me, D&D. I shall play you, again." He'd been a DM in his past life, so either he could make a group, or join one. Like most, he'd been a player before he rose to share Ao's role as Overgod at the head of a pack of nerds. He wouldn't mind being a PC again, though. And judging by his Status Magic, he essentially was one, in a sense.

(I'm just going to make the actual Status sheets and put them here, rather than describe every single thing on them every time it comes up. Enjoy.)

"So…" Drake started, as Laurelin stood beside him, eyebrows raised, "My int is great…slightly higher strength, I like it, but uhh…how high do these numbers go? Is one hundred and three a lot? Do stats increase by more than one point per level?"

"One point per level, usually…but I don't know how your level and charisma has already…" She chuckled then. "It seems sweet-talking my husband gave you experience. And extra charisma points. Makes some sense, he is a God after all. You must have really gotten through to him for that to have happened enough to level you up…"

Drake took the opportunity to make good on putting in a good word for the God of Magic. He'd never played wingman to a God, but if anything would raise his charisma some more…

"I think he's just…frustrated that I even have to be here, which is fair. Were I in his position, I'd be irritated too, being kinda replaced with a seemingly unqualified stranger. But we reached an understanding. Once I prove somewhat useful I'm sure he'll come around. He didn't immediately shoot down the idea of us being friends, at least." Drake nodded confidently. "It's a start."



Laurelin's expression was a mask of a slight smile, and Drake had no doubt she'd guessed what he was trying to do. But she made no mention of it, so Drake assumed he'd been successful. His eyes were drawn to his Feats and Minor Blessings section, as it updated. "Ally…of the Gods…ten percent universal experience bonus!? Fuck yes!" That reaction got another chuckle from the Goddess of Life. "Now…let's try some skills before the school day ends completely."

He swiped to the side of the status screen, and brought up his depressingly tiny list of skills.

"Huh. So I have…Dragon Palm…damages and stuns…and a basic melee attack…and no magic? I thought I'd be able to manipulate magical energy?" He asked towards Laurelin, as he noted the colors around his attacks. Yet another D&D reference no doubt. Green indicated At Will attacks, or Cantrips, red meant they were either Encounter powers, or had a significant several-minute cooldown, and while he didn't have any Daily class skills yet, he guessed their border would be gray, black, or white.

She nodded. "Manipulating raw magic isn't so much a skill as something you can do because your body has such a large amount of it. With an Intelligence stat on par with a Adamantine or Runic level Adventurer, you should have enough magic power to fuel whatever you desire. I'll let you try out Pyrokinesis, before we need to depart in time to arrive for afternoon classes, including meeting the Headmaster, and assigning you a room."

Drake nodded. "Fair. I'll try to grasp using magic quickly. So…how exactly does one manipulate…raw magic?"



Laurelin tilted her head. "Hmm. It's…hmm." After about a minute, she snapped her fingers. "You saw The Last Airbender, right? My records said it was a favorite of yours."

Drake nodded. "Greatest cartoon ever made. Not even a contest. I think I know where you're going with this, Goddess." She chuckled, and gestured for him to try. Drake closed his eyes, and visualized the magical energy that was flowing through his new, objectively hot body in a way and amount that simply didn't exist in his old universe. He gasped slightly, as he felt it. In multiple parts of his body, his Chakras perhaps, pools of significant roiling energy. "How umm…wow that is something. How do I make it into fire?"

"Magic, at least in our world, responds to one's Will. If you have the willpower to imagine something, you can usually guide the magic into whatever form or pattern you desire. Like fire."

"Alright." Drake muttered, eyes still closed, visualizing. "Think…flamethrower." Three images stood out in his head. Actual real life Earth flamethrowers circa WWII, a Charizard, which basically was synonymous with the fire typed move, and Phoenix King Ozai, high on Comet powered energy, burning the world with unhinged glee. Probably because she'd mentioned Avatar. His eyes snapped open, and his hand rose, pointing into the air. He felt the flames form, swirl, condense in his palm, and then surge into the air. Drake blinked as the force of it actually had recoil, and he briefly wondered if he could make himself fly like a human rocket. If he ever found himself in the air for whatever reason, he'd try it with four limbs.



Remembering Laurelin's words and Aang's first attempt with this element, Drake lessened the output with the force of his will, and guided the flames down into his palm, keeping them alive as he focused. He walked away from Laurelin carefully, and then very slowly started weaving the flames around him, exactly like a firebender. It was, Drake discovered, a great way to get a feel for manipulating magic, which became easier and easier to do as time passed. With his will focused, he could draw on the magic from the back of his mind, and stopped and restarted his 'firebending' several times to get a feel for it.

He was so into it, he nearly lost track of time, and about halfway through his total reserve of magic, he stopped with his best attempt at a firebender's flare, making the flames into a dragon. That, was still a bit beyond him though as the final surge of flame just spread out wider, rather than taking on a draconic shape. Laurelin clapped, and Drake heard Falkor let out a roar that resembled a bark. Bowing to his audience, and properly sweaty, he caught his breath and walked over to them. "I think I've got the hang of it. Thank you, Goddess. That example was perfect."

She chuckled. "I barely explained anything. You have a knack for this, Drake Long. I think if you check your skills, you'll find that they've changed." Drake did as she suggested , and sure enough, he now had Firebending listed under his Dragon Palm and basic melee attack. It was a stance, apparently, and would increase his party's attack power, while he used it. A dark grin came over his face. He planned on taking a page from the Goblin Slayer. But with fire. When he finally got to start adventuring. Drake figured the school would probably have them clear out weaker monsters at some point. It'd be an incredible waste if they never actually utilized their top tier magic skills to wipe out monster hordes.



Laurelin's method of transporting him, enough clothes for a week (which was also seven days, here) and his various course books (which he would also have to buy in the future), was a carriage drawn by pegasi, which were apparently as rare as unicorns on Earth, in that science minded people thought they didn't exist. Laurelin had been evasive when Drake asked why she'd guided them to the God's realm in the north, but her expression, and mention of her people's obsession with their wings and feathers, told him all he needed to know. It also confirmed that the mortals on Arcadia were not immune to the barbarity the mortals on Earth had also experienced.

The sky spires of Primus surrounded the academy, a primarily white stone series of skyscraping pointed towers that stretched impossibly high, and as they got closer he realized, stood taller and wider than anything Drake had witnessed on the Earth. The Galdurian Arc Warden Academy was quite a sight, from above. Nestled between several skyscrapers in the ancient city of Primus, the campus nevertheless had plenty of room, and seemed to connect to the city at large with usefully placed footpaths. There were three main buildings that formed the central campus, with multiple, much simpler buildings on either side that had to be dormitories, separated no doubt by gender, and distance. As if that had ever stopped teenagers.

Directly and centrally behind the main campus building, was a long rectangular field that reminded him of Soccer, or what Pokémon Trainers faced off on. In the center was a golden eye surrounded by a white pyramid, and the majority of the field was a rich blue. As they descended, Drake saw the field was trimmed with gold, confirming for him that blue and gold seemed to be associated with the Gods, or at least Galdurath.



The grand entrance of the academy was framed by towering ivory columns, blue runic etchings glowing faintly with latent power, and beneath the statues atop them; accurate depictions of both Laurelin and Galdurath that had been carved in gold and silver respectively with clear and obvious skill. The cobbled walkways leading inward were lined with floating lanterns, their glow shifting to reflect the hours of the day, and winding bridges spanned small artificial rivers filled with bioluminescent fish that resembled Koi fish from Earth. Vendors operated stalls along the academy's campus, selling enchanted parchments, rare alchemical ingredients, and a metric ton of what seemed like magical amulets, rings, and necklaces, items that probably took up minor slots on one's person, but improved their overall power, for a steep price, no doubt.

Drake's arrival was nothing short of a spectacle. The pegasus-drawn carriage, gilded and pristine, descended with practiced grace into the academy's main courtyard, the winged beasts landing upon the intricately carved stone before the statues of the Gods with a synchronized beat of their hooves. The moment he stepped down, he could feel the attention shift, eyes drawn to him as if by some unseen force. Laurelin, disguised as a mortal elf now, and playing the role of his mother, exuded a quiet regality in her new posh noblewoman attire and hairstyle that only heightened the curiosity surrounding them as they headed towards the main building. He could hear the whispers, hushed and hurried, as students clad in uniforms like his own murmured theories about his origins.

"Who is that?"

"I've never seen him before, with a face like that, I'd remember. Did he just transfer?"

"Look at the way she carries herself. That woman… she's no ordinary noble."

"She has to be from a major House...but which one?"

Even the faculty seemed intrigued as they entered the main hall of the building. Professors watched them, some with mild curiosity, others with narrowed eyes filled with calculation. To Drake's eyes, not one of them would've looked out of place at a Harry Potter convention. The interior of the academy was nothing short of breathtaking. The ceiling soared high above them, enchanted to resemble the nebula-filled sky outside with soft golden hues of the late morning hour. Immense chandeliers fashioned from sparkling rainbow colored crystal floated in midair, and the glowing arcane gemstones pulsed softly with power.



The marble floor beneath them was polished to a near-mirrored shine, etched with intricate golden filigree on every single tile. Towering columns lined the hall, each wrapped in a spiraling flow of softly glowing arcane script that drifted like living ink upon the stone, constantly rewriting itself as if scribing an unending spell, likely of protection from all kinds of magics. Along the walls, massive tapestries illustrated the academy's rich history, depicting grand battles, pivotal moments of magical discovery, and the formation of Arcadia's greatest Heroes. Students from presumably higher years passed through the hall in groups on their way to their next class. Only a few occasionally paused to glance in Drake's direction before quickly moving on, whispering in hushed voices. As they walked deeper into the grand entryway, the scent of parchment, enchanted ink, and aged tomes mixed with the varied perfumes the upper classes used, resulting in a not-unpleasant, but potent aroma.

Inside the academy's central tower, Headmaster Veydris awaited them. His office was a vast chamber, its vaulted ceiling covered in shifting constellations that mirrored the sky outside. Shelves upon shelves of ancient tomes stretched from floor to ceiling, each bound in leather embossed with golden filigree, glowing faintly with protective enchantments. The scent of old parchment mixed with the lingering aroma of rare incense, a blend of knowledge and tradition that permeated the air. A grand circular desk, carved from an immense slab of dark obsidian, stood at the center of the room, its surface covered in neatly arranged stacks of scrolls, enchanted quills, and arcane artifacts that pulsed faintly with dormant energy.

Behind the Headmaster, was an enormous enchanted window that did not reveal the outside world, but rather displayed shifting depictions of history itself, from grand battles fought in the age of legends against powerful Demon Lords, to celestial charts that predicted the flow of the leylines across Arcadia. Arcane scripts hovered in midair around the frame, providing onlookers with a brief but informative blurb about the scene being depicted. Drake tried not to get distracted by the slideshow of interesting lore. Being very much a ravenous consumer of various lore about various worlds, Drake considered himself an expert on histories ranging from Arda to Azeroth, though, almost none of that knowledge was likely to help him in his new life, which was a depressing thought. He took mental notes from the scrolling images, and resolved to look up the key words he could remember in the academy library at some point.



Headmaster Veydris himself radiated an aura of composed authority, his silver eyes sharp and wrinkled with the weight of centuries. His presence was neither oppressive nor overtly welcoming, but one of calculated observation, as if he measured the worth of every individual that stood before him. His long, deep-blue robes shimmered subtly with interwoven magic, layered with runes of wisdom and power. His fingers, adorned with rings containing stored spells, rested upon the surface of his mahogany brown desk as he regarded them with quiet intensity. His hair resembled Galdurath's, probably on purpose, with the only difference being a braid of silver locks that encircled his wizened skull. He acknowledged Laurelin with the barest inclination of his head.

"You walk among Mortals today, Goddess Laurelin." He noted, his voice steady.

"I do, Headmaster." She answered simply, offering nothing more than a fake smile. Then, with a subtle shift in her demeanor, she continued. "Drake Long is under my direct protection, as well as my husband's, and though he may appear unfamiliar to your records, he is not without merit. You will find him a fast learner, and soon, his presence here will make sense." She paused, letting her words settle. "Additionally, he is not alone. His companion, Falkor, will be visiting on occasion." Her voice was light, almost casual, but the weight of her authority made it clear that this was not a request.

The Headmaster frowned. "You know we do not allow pets-"

"Falkor is no mere pet." Laurelin answered, enjoying the old man's discomfort more than perhaps she should have. "He is a Dragon, the first of a new breed of magical creatures who will undoubtedly aid us against Dagorath's dark abominations, should they arrive with the next Demon Lord. He is intelligent, kind, and can speak and understand our tongue, so if he violates any of your precious rules, simply explain them to him, and he shall follow them. My main concern, is that you do not try shooting him down. You will not like his response to being attacked." She provided a physical description of Falkor then, and the Headmaster nodded, resigned to simply accepting that his campus would now be playing host to a dragon, sometimes, apparently. Gods.

The Headmaster studied Drake in silence, his gaze piercing and irritated. Then, with a measured breath, he retrieved a document and stamped it with a glowing sigil. "Welcome, Drake Long. You will be assigned to Class Seven, year one. You will stay with your Instructor and your classmates for the duration of your time here, so I would advise you to make a good first impression. You will be informed when your...Dragon...arrives to visit you, and will be financially responsible for anything he destroys." Drake nodded, doubting Falkor would break anything intentionally. The meeting was over as swiftly as it had begun, but the weight of it lingered as they departed.



As they stepped outside the office, the heavy wooden doors shutting behind them with a soft thud, Laurelin turned to Drake. Her expression was softer now, the sharp authority she had worn in front of the Headmaster fading. She placed a hand on his shoulder and gave him a small nod of approval. "This will be difficult, but you have endured much worse. Learn quickly, trust your instincts, beware your fellow classmate's goals, and do not be afraid to carve your own path," She said, her voice carrying the quiet certainty of someone who knew his potential far better than he did. "You are not alone, even if you feel like it."

With those parting words, she stepped away, vanishing into the grand corridors of the academy without another glance. The moment she left, the quiet intensity of the situation caught up with Drake as he realized he was, in fact, very much completely on his own, in a world he knew precious little about. He exhaled and looked around, realizing that without Laurelin leading the way, he had no idea where he was supposed to go.

He hesitated at the grand junction of twisting corridors and arched passageways, each lined with glowing runes that pulsed gently like the heartbeat of the academy. The students moving past him seemed to know exactly where they were going, while he stood in place, trying to make sense of the path ahead. After a few minutes of aimless wandering, he found himself in what appeared to be a maintenance corridor, filled with floating dust particles illuminated by the soft golden light of hovering lanterns.



"Lost already, are you?"

Drake turned to see an elderly elf with platinum blonde hair and a light mustache, leaning against a broom, his pointed ears twitching slightly with amusement. His long hair was tied back neatly, and his deep green robes bore the faint insignia of the academy's maintenance staff. His eyes twinkled with wisdom and an undeniable kindness. He had the look of someone who had seen countless students come and go, yet still found amusement in their struggles.

"Yeah," Drake admitted with a sheepish grin. "First day, new place, kind of a maze. I'm trying to get to Class Seven."

The janitor chuckled, resting both hands on the broom handle as if it were a staff of great importance. "Ah, the academy does have a way of humbling even the brightest minds. I am Faelar, caretaker of these halls." He gestured down a side corridor. "Class Seven, you say? Follow the blue sigils on the walls. They will lead you to the main classrooms, which are marked on the top of their doors with two numbers The first is your class, and the second, your year. You'll want class Seven-One."

Drake nodded, glancing at the softly glowing symbols before turning back to Faelar. "Thank you, Faelar. I appreciate it."

The elf smiled, tapping his broom lightly on the marble floor. "Pay attention to the details, young one. The academy is more than just books and battlefields. Sometimes, the smallest things hold the greatest secrets. Now go, before you are late."



Drake gave him a nod of thanks before following the path, and eventually finding a door marked with the number he sought. He paused at the entryway, tried to ignore the weight and importance of the impression he was about to make, and knocked, straightening his uniform and his leather backpack holding his books, as he readied himself. "Enter." Came an authoritative baritone.

As he stepped into the room, the eyes of the students of Class Seven shifted toward him with intrigue, some openly staring, others whispering among themselves. The students were arranged in three neat rows of four desks, each seat occupied by someone who, in some way, exuded talent or breeding beyond the average. The air practically vibrated with unspoken assessments, each person weighing his presence against their expectations. Drake eyed them, in turn, but only briefly, as he met his new Instructor.

Standing at the front of the room was an absolute mountain of a man, or rather, a Leonid, as he believed their race was called. The Instructor towered over the assembled students, his physique closer to that of a warlord than an academic. His crimson blood red mane, streaked with silver, was combed back loosely, revealing a feline face marked by experience but softened by the warmth in his golden eyes. Despite his sheer size and the undeniable power radiating from his presence, there was an air of calm about him, a quiet confidence that made him feel more approachable than intimidating. He was not dressed in the flowing robes of the other professors but in a well-fitted, dark blue longcoat that sat on his massive frame over a red plaid undershirt. His attire was simple, stylish, but practical, the kind worn by someone who had no patience for unnecessary frills.

The lion man regarded Drake for a moment, his expression unreadable, before giving a slow nod. "You must be our newest addition." He said, his deep baritone rumbling through the room with an effortless authority. "Drake Long. Welcome to Class Seven. I am called Aslan. I will be your Instructor during your time here, as I help you and your peers ascend to the level and competence of an Arc Warden. Just so you're aware, we will be having a new student join us tomorrow, as well. Introduce yourself." A large, clawed paw gestured at the gathered students.

Drake couldn't help but let out a small chuckle under his breath. Yet another Dimensional Echo. He had half a mind to ask if Aslan was a king in another life. Instead, he simply nodded and stared at the back wall of the room, avoiding eye contact and controlling his nerves as he said, "Hello there. I'm Drake...uhh, I'm fairly new to casting magic, and to the customs and rules of your impressive city, but I'll do my best not to drag the class down. I look forward to working with you all." He lowered his head just enough to convey respect, and then took his seat. Murmurs followed him, wondering how a 'newb' at only level three had made it into the Academy. Apparently, people could tell what level he was just by looking hard enough.

"Good. Let us begin. Time waits for no one, and we've a limited amount of it." Instructor Aslan turned away and picked up a thick tome from his desk, flipping it open with a practiced ease. "We will continue today, with the history of the Seventh Demon Lord invasion, and the varied effects on Arcadian society that the invasion caused both during and after the Hero Valerian managed to slay the Demon Lord, and carve his name into legend." Aslan gestured at the book as he spoke, and Drake's eyes widened, as it displayed actual images projected and formed by the words within the pages. They sure knew how to make learning fun, here.



He split his attention then, as he felt far too many eyes shifting his way, and not on the lesson. For his part, he had, almost immediately, noticed the bombshell of a blonde elf in the second middle row of the room. She had piercing emerald eyes, and sat with an air of aristocratic confidence, her uniform immaculate and her posture flawless. The way she held her chin slightly raised gave the impression that she was used to being in charge, or at the very least, being the most important person in the room. Her gaze flickered towards Drake as she simultaneously took in the lesson, not with idle curiosity, but sharp calculation, as if she were gauging his worth in an instant. Drake met her gaze, and felt his body's pulse quicken. He shot her a genuine smile, but she seemingly ignored him, and focused back on the lesson.

Next to her, a smirking, tabby furred cat girl leaned back in her chair, arms crossed behind her head, the glint in her large eyes hinting at mischief. She had an effortless, almost roguish energy about her, like someone who had spent just as much time breaking rules as she had following them. The contrast between her and the blonde elf made it clear that if there was a hierarchy here, she was the wildcard who disrupted it regularly. She was more openly staring at Drake, but had turned away in disgust when he smiled at the blonde.

A dark-haired and composed human student sat at the front left of the class, his posture rigid and his expression focused as he ignored Drake's existence, and focused on the lesson. Unlike the others, he did not bother with outward displays of authority or charisma. He had the air of a Class Representative, and Drake had a feeling he also boasted the highest scores on written exams.

A towering brute of a teen, another leonid, sat near the back next to Drake, his massive fur covered arms crossed over his chest. His mane was youthful and black, shorter than Aslan's, and his eyes were a bright red, unsettling with his leonine pupils. His uniform strained against his muscular frame, and his expression was unreadable at first as their eyes met, until he gave a slow, approving grunt, as if deciding on the spot that Drake met some unspoken criteria of strength. There was no malice in his gaze, only a simple, practical assessment. Strength recognized strength. Drake was just glad his neighbor approved of him.

On Drake's left, also in the back, was a silver-furred Fox youth who had clearly never bothered brushing the silver clump between his foxlike ears. He had a lazy grin, and lounged against his desk, looking entirely unbothered by the tension in the room. His sharp, foxlike features carried an air of amusement, as if he found the entire situation entertaining rather than concerning. His grin widened as Drake made eye contact, and with an exaggerated stretch, he was the first to quietly say something to him, having noticed his smile towards the blonde elf.

"Well, well. Looks like we've got a new contender."



Before Drake could respond, another student shushed the silver fox from the middle row, a tan-skinned girl with dark brown, tightly coiled black hair adorned with small golden rings. She wore a confident smirk, her piercing amber eyes shining with irritation. "Quiet Leif. Pay attention, newbie." She focused back on the lesson, and had the vibe of someone who had had to struggle to afford to come to a school this prestigious, and had every intention of making the most of every second.

Seated beside her, a dark elf with smooth obsidian skin and striking dark green eyes folded her arms across her chest. Her long silver-white hair reminded him of a Drow. She said nothing, but had flashed Drake a smile on his way to his seat. Now, she was paying attention.

Behind the Dark Elf, as they were apparently called, a towering lizardkin with smooth emerald-green scales tapped his claws against the wooden desk. His bright yellow eyes locked onto Drake with an analytical gaze, and they shared a nod of respect. Apparently, seeing the black maned leonid give his approval was enough for the lizard man. Drake liked their vibe, and hoped he could keep up with such obviously skilled warriors that, he had a feeling, would be on the front line in melee combat with him.

To the left middle side of the room, was a crimson scaled merman with well groomed crimson hair and looks that rivaled Drake's own. He leaned back with an easy grin. His clothing was slightly more disheveled than the others, and a well-worn spellbook sat open on his desk, its pages covered in handwritten notes. He too gave Drake a nod, before looking back at the Instructor, who seemed to notice all the looks Drake's way, but tolerated them. They were teens with brilliant minds, he couldn't rightly expect them to ignore a shiny new mystery dropped right in the middle of them.

The last member of the class was right in front of Drake, and sensing Aslan's tacit approval of the class looking at him, she turned right around, with a bright smile, but spoke quietly to him so as not to interrupt. He leaned forward, so he could hear the buxom honey blonde bunny girl. "I'm Tala! If you want the notes on the other lectures we've had, just let me know!"

Up close, he noted some beastkin had more 'human' in them than others. Like the cat girl, and Tala, the only exception being her bunny nose, which only further accentuated her cuteness. She was by far the class member closest to full adulthood judging by how her bust was straining her blazer, with long brownish blonde hair that sat between her long rabbit ears, and genuinely kind vibes. "Thank you, Tala." He murmured smoothly, "I'll take you up on the offer, after class." That seemed to overjoy her for some reason, and she turned back to the lesson, fluffy tail twitching in what appeared to be joy.



History class was nothing like the dry, monotonous lectures Drake had expected. Instead of dusty textbooks and endless recitations, Instructor Aslan used magic to bring the past to life. With a flick of his fingers, glowing symbols coalesced in the air before unraveling into vivid, three-dimensional projections of legendary battles. Vast armies of high tier adventurers, their armor gleaming under phantom sunlight, clashed against monstrous foes that included orcs, goblins, trolls, and other horrific variations of Arcadia's races, mutated by darkness. Their swords carved through the air with precision and power. Ancient castles crumbled under the assault of arcane sieges, and spellcasters wove dazzling displays of magic, their energy rippling through the illusions, and sometimes striking a student, harmlessly, but with enough of a jolt to focus their attention back on the lesson. It seemed that Aslan was directing the projections, in conjunction with the book.

Drake found himself leaning forward, enthralled by the sheer spectacle of it all. This wasn't just storytelling. It was an invitation to witness history firsthand. He observed how warriors moved, how spells were seamlessly interwoven with physical strikes, how battle formations dictated the flow of combat, and what a proper Arcadian war actually looked like. The Instructor narrated with an air of reverence, his voice rising and falling in perfect cadence with the ebb and flow of each historical moment of significance that would be on the test. Aslan was clearly in his element, and his lesson was an art form, a dissemination of knowledge wrapped in spectacle, meant to ignite a sense of wonder and respect for those who had shaped the world before them.

At one point, a massive spectral knight, the Arc Warden Valerian himself, standing at least fifteen feet tall from an Enlarge spell, charged forward, his greatsword carving a flaming arc through the illusory battlefield as he went blade to blade with an even larger orc. The monstrosities face was tattooed and pierced, large tusks jutted up from his round, powerful jaw, and dark runes rippled across his musculature in place of armor, the Dark God's blessing clear by the horns and leathery wings that sprouted from his back. The force of the Demon Lord's swing sent projected adventurers scattering like embers in the wind, while Valerian stood strong, and alone. Drake barely suppressed a whistle of appreciation. He could almost feel the heat radiating from the fiery steel, even though he knew it was all just an illusion.

"Pay attention, students," Instructor Aslan's voice carried over the magical din of the display. "This was the Hero Valerian's last stand against the Seventh Demon Lord. Note his footwork. His stance. his unflinching resolve in the face of pure evil. The way he anticipates his opponent's strikes before they happen. These are not just relics of history. They are lessons for your future."



By the time lunch rolled around, Drake quickly departed the classroom and was one of the first to the lunch line, thanks to a helpful and timely directive finger-point from Faelar. Once he had his rather decent meal of meat covered in some sort of gravy-like sauce, what looked like and had the consistency of mashed potatoes, and something the lunch lady had assured him was delicious for a side dish, he opted for solitude at an empty table near the back of the large room, hoping for a quiet meal to process everything he had learned so far. However, his solitude was short-lived.

He barely had time to take a bite of his food before a shadow fell over his tray. The blonde elf from earlier approached with an air of regal confidence, setting her tray down across from him with deliberate grace. Her arrival was quiet, composed, and yet undeniably purposeful. Her gorgeous emerald eyes flicked toward him, lingering a moment longer than necessary before she turned back to her plate. She made a show of appearing indifferent, but Drake caught the subtle way her fingers drummed against the tray, perhaps a sign of nervousness? Her presence alone carried a weight of expectation, as if she had already decided something about him, and he wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing.

After a pause, she finally spoke, her voice smooth and measured. "You don't belong here."

Drake raised an eyebrow, swallowing his bite of food before he spoke. "I paid tuition like everyone else."

She studied him again, this time with a hint of curiosity breaking through the practiced veneer of aristocratic composure. "It wasn't meant as an insult. Just an observation. You do not walk or speak like the scion of an Arc Warden family, and I have never seen you before. Your level is too low to afford this place on your own. Who is your sponsor?"

Drake smirked, and projected confidence. "I'm afraid I can't say...just know that I'm here to learn, grow, and...shake things up. In a good way."

She didn't answer right away. Instead, she took a slow sip from her goblet, her gaze never quite leaving him. "Interesting."



A moment later, the tabby cat girl from their class sauntered over and plopped into the seat beside the elf, grinning at Drake with an expression that was equal parts curiosity and mischief. She leaned forward slightly, tapping her clawed fingers on the table. "So, what's the story, new guy? Drop in from the sky? Get teleported in from some hidden kingdom? Or are you secretly an exiled prince?"

Drake arched an eyebrow. "None of the above...although, I will admit, Teleporting was involved. But that's all you're getting." He smirked at her as well, and she raised her eyebrows, ready to retort, with sass no doubt.

Before she could, the towering black maned brute of a leonid approached, carrying a tray stacked with enough food for three people. He set it down with a decisive thud beside Drake, and gave him a nod. His gigantic frame made an imposing wall between Drake and the rest of the room. Without a word, he dug in, sharp teeth making quick work of the roasted meat. The table shook slightly with each heavy movement, but the sheer normalcy of the act somehow made it even more intimidating. It seemed he'd be introducing himself after his hunger was sated, which was fine with Drake, who had no intention of interrupting him.

The dark-haired tactician arrived next, his movements precise and measured, as if every step he took was premeditated. He took the seat next to Drake, as the cat girl said, "Vincent! You were right, the newb Teleported in from...somewhere." The smart teen nodded, and adjusted his glasses, giving Drake an appraising look. "Perhaps he simply tested at an advanced level, bypassing the standard entrance examinations due to his Arc Warden potential. It wouldn't be the first time." His tone was neutral, but seemingly friendly, or at least as friendly as nerds like him could be. He placed his tray down without hesitation and folded his hands in front of him, studying Drake as though he were a puzzle waiting to be solved.



Finally, the silver-haired fox trickster strolled up on the other side of the blonde elf, balancing an apple between his five fingers before casually tossing it into the air and catching it. "You all are asking the wrong questions. The real question is, how long does he plan to last?" He smirked, sliding into the other seat beside the elf, his fox-like ears twitching. "Hope you don't mind the company, newbie. We tend to adopt interesting cases."

Drake smirked. "Not at all. But I have a feeling this isn't just about making friends."

The tabby cat let out a mewl of laughter. "He catches on quick! Most people don't just appear in Class Seven without a name that carries weight. We had to find out if you're some kind of hidden prodigy, a noble's illegitimate heir, or just someone lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time. Figured we'd do a little investigatin'."

"Subtle," Drake remarked dryly. "But if any of those apply to me...it would certainly be luck." His vague answer made the cat girl subtly grit her teeth. Like pulling water from a desert stone, this guy.

Rose finally spoke again, her voice smooth and composed. "Since we'll be working together, it's only natural to gauge what you can do. A weak link in a team can be disastrous, and I prefer to know what I'm dealing with before that happens."

Drake took a bite of his food and nodded. "Fair enough. I suppose I should ask the same. Who am I dealing with?"

The cat girl couldn't help but answer first, as she leaned back, balancing her chair on two legs. "Nyara. My old man is an adventurer, and I'm planning on being even better than him. I'm what you'd call a Sword Mage. But despite that, I stay the fuck out of melee combat. The sword increases my range, but it's not really meant for parrying or stabbing. Too fragile."



The blonde studied him, as if weighing the truth in his words. "I am Rose Valcrest. My family has trained Arc Wardens for generations. My specialty as a Sage, is the healing arts given by the Goddess Laurelin, and enhancement magic. I'd like to know yours, before everyone else speaks."

Drake glanced around, and noted that when Rose spoke, everyone else in Class Seven listened. For varying reasons no doubt, but even the silver fox teen stayed quiet when she spoke. He nodded, and said, "In the interest of honesty...I'm very much a newbie. I have three skills so far, my level is single digits, but you're right, my potential was classed as an Arc Warden's, so I was brought here."

"And your class?" Rose asked.

Drake nodded again, she'd shared hers, so it was only fair. "My Status listed it as Monk."

From the other side of the hulking leonid, came the hissing tones of the emerald scaled lizard teen who'd apparently sat down without anyone noticing. "What...the fuck...issss a Monk?"

Drake blinked, and looked around, as the others echoed his question. "Do...do you guys really not have Monks, here?"

Rose answered him. "No...none of us have ever heard that word, let alone what class it is or what it does." Her beautiful features furrowed. "Explain, please. If we're to work together, we need to know."



"A Monk is..." Drake started, as he struggled to find the right words, and then settled for what would help Rose the most. "I'm a melee fighter. Most of my attacks are close to mid range. My skills so far seem to deal damage and have a brief stun...I don't know what they'll be like as I level up, since apparently...I'm the first Monk here. I'll probably need light armor so I can move around and dodge, and my fists are my primary weapon. There's more, but that should suffice for now."

Rose smiled at him, and Drake felt his heart quicken again. She really was just absurdly beautiful. "That was a useful assessment, Drake." Her gorgeous emerald eyes had him snared. "I look forward to learning your class with you, and seeing how you grow. There is...an air of destiny about you that's..." She let her sentence trail off, and Nyara butted in, seizing the pause to fill the air with her sassy tone.

"So wait, you punch things until they die? That's it!? What kind of Arc Warden doesn't use a weapon? What kind of damage dealing melee class doesn't have at least medium armor? You're gonna die, kid. The Goblin archers will turn you into a pincushion before you ever get close."

Drake smirked at her. "Actually, if I'm right about my future abilities, catching things like arrows or bolts will be within my skill set. I'll be just fine. Now, let's hear from the rest of the class, shall we? Names too, if you all don't mind. I'll try to remember them."



The dark-haired class rep in the making adjusted his glasses slightly, making them purposefully obscure his sharp, narrow eyes as they caught the light. "Vincent, of the noble House of Kei. I'm an Enchanter. Strategy and tactics are my specialty. I study how to control the battlefield before the fight even starts. Most charge in thinking strength or speed alone will decide a match, but positioning, information, and strategy win wars." He adjusted the cuffs of his uniform. "I analyze patterns, predict enemy movements, and manipulate engagements to ensure victory. My spells are largely supportive and controlling, barriers, illusions, and forced movement effects to dictate the flow of combat. I can also use a few decent attack spells, enhancement magic, and low tier healing and magic restoration spells."

Vincent then glanced at Drake, a knowing glint behind his spectacles. "If you're planning to fight with just your fists, you'd better learn how to think ahead, or you'll be a dead man walking the moment a real battle begins."

The leonid brute finished tearing into a piece of meat and finally spoke, his voice deep and steady. "Garret."

Drake turned his head to look at the hulking leonid and waited for more. Garret swallowed his bite, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and added, "I'm what you'd call a Knight. Tanking is what I do best. Holding the line. Taking hits on my shield, so others don't have to."

He then gave Drake an appraising look, his red eyes narrowing slightly. "Getting up close to punch things, though? Takes guts. Even the best Arc Wardens prefer attacking the spawn of Dagorath from a distance."

Drake smirked. "Well, I don't really have much of a choice. It's what my class is built for."

Garret let out a low chuckle, nodding approvingly. "Then I hope you're fast. Otherwise, we're gonna need to find you some better armor."



Finally, the silver-haired trickster smirked. "Leif. I hide in the shadows, and I'm quite fast. I use knives and a bow, but all my skills are suited to gathering information, and dealing quick bursts of damage. If you see me out in the open and in melee combat, I'm having a bad day."

Drake chuckled. "A Rogue, then? I understand. If I ever see you struggling, I'll lend a fist or two." The fox man smirked, but seemed to appreciate that.

Before they could continue, another tray clattered onto the table beside the tabby colored cat girl. Tala, the lapine girl, had arrived, her long ears twitching as she settled beside the cat girl smoothly, having no doubt already heard their conversation even from the line. "You guys are being too nosy," She said with a cheerful huff, her voice lilting playfully. She shot Drake a reassuring smile, one that felt far more welcoming than the calculated assessments from the others. "If he wants to punch things, let him. I think it's very interesting that you're a class we've never heard of. You must be special, eh Rose?"

The elf coughed, only the faintest of flushes marking her cheeks, but then it faded as fast as it had appeared, and she nodded. "If he's the only Monk, then one would assume he's special." The two girls shared a silent, intense stare then, and Drake blinked, wondering if he was sensing what he thought he was sensing. Maybe if his charisma had been naturally higher, he might've been more sure.



Tala turned to Drake then, her soft brown eyes bright with curiosity but absent of pressure. "I'm a Cleric, by the way. Healing and protection spells are my specialty. I'll keep you alive, no need to worry, but if you could avoid getting hurt so I can focus on healing our tank, that would be great!" She giggled, but Drake had a feeling she was being serious, and telling him, in so many words, not to stand in the fire. Thankfully, he'd played enough MMOs to understand his role. She continued, bubbly as ever. "Need help figuring out your schedule? Class Seven can be overwhelming at first. I can show you the easiest paths between buildings."

Drake chuckled, appreciating the rescue from the interrogation. "That might not be a bad idea. I'm still getting my bearings."

Tala helped him after that, and he learned that Sethis, the lizard man, was also a tank class, though instead of a shield, he used a massive greatsword, and a small buckler. For a tank, he did quite a lot of damage, though his actual blocking skills were nowhere near Garret's. Drake knew he'd prefer to be behind the hulking leonid. The members of their class who hadn't joined them were Zara, the darker toned human who was apparently what people called a War Mage, the dark elf, Lyria, was a Sorceror, which was apparently just a War Mage that used summoned elemental minions to supplement her role as a damage dealer, and the crimson merman, Caelum, who was apparently a Sage like Rose, though instead of enhancement, his affinity for water magic made him a healer, and an off-damage dealer.



By the time the meal ended, Drake had earned a mixture of begrudging respect and genuine curiosity from his new peers. The jabs, the assessments, the playful skepticism, it was all a means of weighing him, testing his presence, his confidence. But more importantly, it was inclusion. He wasn't just some outsider being observed from afar. He was already becoming part of the rhythm of Class Seven, tangled in their web of rivalries, friendships, and unspoken rules. That distinction made all the difference.

As they stood to clear their trays, Rose lingered for a moment, glancing at Drake before finally speaking. "You didn't crack under their pressure. That's a good sign."

Drake smirked at her. "Was that a test?"

"Everything here is a test," She replied mysteriously, before turning to leave.

Garret clapped a heavy hand on Drake's shoulder, nearly knocking him off balance. "You don't spook easy. That's rare in a striker."

"Not much point in fighting if I'm afraid to take a hit," Drake said with a shrug.

Tala laughed, her long ears twitching with amusement. "I like this one. He might actually last a week."

Vincent, adjusting his glasses, offered a small nod of approval. "We'll see if he lasts longer than that. The Academy is not forgiving."

Drake chuckled, shaking his head as they exited the cafeteria together. Whatever this place had in store for him, he wasn't facing it alone. He had a solid group in the classmates who'd deigned to introduce themselves, and he'd be glad to have any one of them in his party. Indeed, they were all over level thirty, and he really hoped he didn't bring them down because of that.



Unlike conventional physical education, their next class was designed for practical survival in Dungeons. The massive training grounds in one of the campus's main buildings were split into several magically controlled battlefields, each simulating different dungeon environments, rocky caverns, dense forests, crumbling ruins, etcetera. The instructors wasted no time in forming teams, pairing students randomly, but also based on their roles. Drake was assigned as a damage dealer once Instructor Aslan confirmed that no one knew what a Monk was, thus, as a close-quarters fighter responsible for dealing swift and decisive blows while evading counterattacks, he'd been relegated to DPS. His team consisted of Vincent, who took the role of tactician and battlefield controller, Garret, the unshakable tank who anchored their defenses, and Tala, the team's cleric. Though her natural Lapine agility made her an excellent scout, her true strength lay in support magic. Her spells reinforced Garret's defenses, mended wounds mid-combat, and bolstered their endurance, ensuring they could last in extended engagements.

The other team, consisting of Sethis, Rose, Leif, and Zara went before them, and performed quite well on a battlefield of ice against a elemental golem made of stone. Leif was less than useless with his daggers, so Zara had been forced to expend quite a lot of her magic power to compensate his lack of damage. Rose had also had to apply several damaging spells that drained health over time, and Sethis was able to close the gap with mighty strikes from his greatsword, as he kept the golem focused on him, and tanked its brutal hits with his weapon, and Rose's potent healing magic.

When it was their turn to face a summoned construct, they found themselves on a mountainous piece of terrain. The cliff sides rose high, making it into a small canyon, with limited space to move. As their construct burned to life in a tornado of flame, Drake swore. The one element he'd been hoping he wouldn't have to face, on literally his first day. With more time, he could've at least tried experimenting with water, or earth. His teammates were Garret, Vincent, and Tala, and with that team composition, dealing damage was almost entirely on him. Without him, they wouldn't bring down their target within the time limit, which was as good as failing.

"What's wrong, Drake?" Vincent asked, worried for his grade point average.

"I did say I had three skills, yea? Well...the most damaging one changes my attacks into fire damage...and I don't think punches will do much against that!" The burning cyclone roared, not waiting for the party, and Garret stepped forward, shield at the ready. The flames parted around his massive frame, and the other three hid behind him.



"Well...figure something out!" Vincent shouted, as he and Tala split once the flames stopped, forcing the construct to divide its attention. "You're our damage dealer! Deal damage!"

Garret looked back at him from behind his shield, and grinned confidently, making an impressive form in his basic plate armor. "I'll draw its attention! You find a way to hit it where it hurts. We're counting on you, newbie!"

The massive Leonid charged, planting his feet firmly before meeting the beast's burning claw strike head-on. A loud clang rang through the training grounds as Garret's enchanted armor absorbed the impact, his sheer bulk keeping the creature occupied. "Vincent!"

Vincent, standing further back atop a small cliff now, eyes flicking between their positions, adjusted his glasses so they caught the light. "Tala, circle around and mark it with DoTs! Drake, do something!"

Tala darted up another cliff behind the construct, her lapine agility allowing her to weave between the beast's wild swings. She began casting three spells in a row, each one landing like a weight upon the construct, weakening it, and slowing it down. "Damage over time is active!" She called out.



Drake gritted his teeth. Fire wasn't going to work. His basic strikes wouldn't land with enough force to matter, and though he probably could have attempted a Flurry of Blows, he also knew that would be negligible at his level. The construct was at his teammate's level, though it had, mercifully, been lowered so he could at least damage it enough for them to pass. He needed something else besides fire. His nerdy mind thought back to Laurelin's lesson, and the stereotypes that had led him to new skills. Once again, Pokémon entered his mind. What beat fire? Water, obviously, but there was none around. All he had were rocks. Then, he remembered, rock and ground moves also beat fire types. Firefighters dumped not only water, but sand and dirt on, for example, forest fires empowered by ridiculously high winds, and a climate suffering from the massive pollution humanity was causing. Figuring if it had helped in California it would help here, Drake quickly sent his will into the rock and stone around them, desperately forcing them to react to his magical commands.

And the earth responded.

With a sharp exhale, he spun in a smooth spiral out to the side of Garret's bulk, and drove his palm into the ground. Jagged stone erupted in an instant, like a proper Stone Edge, as it raced towards his target. The once solid terrain became his weapon, sharp rock formations jutting upward, knocking the beast off balance as he hammered it with a surprise strike to its 'jaw'. As it staggered, Drake moved, using his agility and the raised stones like stepping platforms to launch himself higher. Warping the final stone around his feet as he leaped heroically into the air, he twisted his body and came down with an explosive heel drop, striking the creature's 'head' and sending it to the ground. He shouted at his teammates. "NOW!"

Vincent reacted, as he'd been charging up a powerful ice spell that wouldn't immediately melt, all he'd needed was an opening. Garret stabbed his sword into the construct's 'neck' as it was stunned, the magical weapon keeping it pinned, as Vincent's spell lanced forth in a line of frost. Tala healed Garret as he stepped back from the beast with smoldering fur, and Drake followed the ice with a downright brutal beatdown from his now rock-encased fists. Within thirty seconds, and after another Ray of Frost, the construct dissipated, and Drake fell onto his ass, panting hard. He wordlessly expressed his thanks to the stone, not sure if they could grok him, but glad that his gambit had worked out in the end. He felt Tala's magic surge into him, and realized he'd also been pretty badly burned. He hadn't even noticed. With as little damage as his earth enhanced fists had done, his entire focus had been punching the fire elemental as fast as possible, until it died.



Silence followed before Garret let out a low, approving rumble. "Not bad, newbie. Most people wouldn't have figured out a new skill that quickly."

Vincent adjusted his glasses again, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Still inefficient, but adaptable. It seems Monks have a proclivity towards elemental magic."

Tala grinned, as she hopped down, and helped Drake up. "I'd say that was a solid first run. Not bad, handsome." She winked at him, and he felt his face heat up in a manner that had nothing to do with almost burning to death.

Drake let out a breath and centered himself, rolling his shoulders as the tension in his muscles slowly faded. His entire body ached from the intensity of the battle, but the rush of victory was worth the considerable effort that his earthbending had taken. His magical power was still fine though, barely even a sliver had been used, but despite that, it had still drained him physically, as if strength was also a factor. He wondered if earthbending would also improve his other skills, and resolved to try a workout with the various elements when he had time. That could be his solution to making sure all of his stats rose with every level.



Aslan came over to them, as they walked off the field. "Very well done, Drake Long." He rumbled. "I threw fire at you on purpose. I was made aware of your skills...and wondered how you would react. And in the flames of combat, your strength has grown! As has your level, I see. Well done indeed. Now, clean yourselves up. We've still three more classes before the day is done." Class Seven groaned, but did as they were instructed. The other groups were not thrilled that the newbie had upstaged them with his performance having drawn Aslan's eye, but not one of their groups had failed to take out their construct.

The next class was Advanced Magic Control, which required absolute precision and teamwork, forcing students to wield arcane forces with discipline rather than raw power as they shaped their magic together, weaving it to form something fragile, like a vase, in his group's case. Drake was paired with Rose and Tala for the class competency assessment, and thanks to the budding love triangle forming between them, which Drake took all class to even notice, not one of them performed very well. Rose's magic was elegant and refined, but she kept glancing at Tala and Drake, and losing her focus thanks to her rising anger.

Tala, for her part, was too focused on helping the newbie instead of her own magic control, and Drake, despite his best efforts, was trying to suppress the powerful mix of male hormones that surged into his dumb ape brain every time Tala's glorious breasts pressed into his back, or his side. After the tenth time, he knew it had to be on purpose. He appreciated that she found him attractive, but it was frustrating to lose his magical focus every time his instincts said, 'Look! Tits!' He'd forgotten how incessant a teenage male mind could be.



He hadn't put much thought into le romance, as he was used to either being ignored by women, or being too obtuse to notice their subtle cues. Nothing about this was subtle though, and he found himself with a moral dilemma. Both Tala and Rose were going to become exceptionally gorgeous women, he had no doubt. The problem, was that he was mentally twice their age, and his stupid body, was not. It was very much eager to swipe its V-card. Drake was fairly sure that would be immoral, and yet every time he tried bringing it up to Tala, she barreled over his words with niceness, forcing him to focus on the lesson, y'know, at least until her giant tits pressed into him again, and shattered his focus. This in turn, had often made Rose lose focus, and shatter their forming vase. By the end of the class, Drake was properly sweating, not entirely from exertion, Rose had a red mark on her refined nose from where she kept pinching it, every time Drake's concentration had faltered, and Tala seemed very pleased with herself.

Their next class, Dungeon Tactics, delved into the recorded experiences of past explorers, dissecting the perils that lay in the depths of the unknown. Unlike the previous class, this one was far more theoretical, relying on maps, historical accounts, and strategic breakdowns of famous expeditions. Vincent thrived here, answering the instructor's questions with crisp, methodical explanations. When a scenario was presented, a hypothetical dungeon filled with shifting traps and monstrous guardians, Vincent sketched out three different plans in mere minutes.

Drake, for his part, also excelled at this, using his raw intelligence stat to keep pace with Vincent, much to his irritation. This culminated in a final example of a truly absurd Dungeon layout, involving spring jumps, spike pits, floating ever-rotating flails that would knock people out of the air, and of course, not one, but three fucking lava pits. Drake had questioned the veracity of the layout, wondering aloud if Dungeons actually became this ridiculous, at which point he learned that the older the Dungeon Boss, the more clever they tended to be. While Vincent had tried to carefully strategize around each trap, Drake had asked Aslan what powered things like ever-rotating flails, and the answer, was always magic. Dispel Magic was indeed a thing, and quite a common spell across classes as it turned out, so Drake had his theoretical party, displayed by a magical approximation, Dispel most of their traps, claimed he could cool the lava either with water or by firebending the heat from it, and at that point they had still had enough spells at the end to theoretically face the boss and win. Vincent's party, had not, as his overly complex plan had confused them, and their magical simulation of the Dungeon ended in repeated failures, while Drake managed the final win.

Much to his relief, Tala had been partnered on Vincent's team, and Rose seemed to have regained a little respect for him after he managed to out-strategize Vincent. The Enchanter was clearly upset with his loss, but Drake had walked over to him at the end of the class saying, "If our parties ever end up split in a Dungeon, I'll feel better knowing at least one of us is with them. And if we're in the same one, well...I weep for whatever Boss we encounter. It won't know what hit it." The two had shaken hands, but Vincent still seemed resolved to beat him next time. Drake, and his unfairly boosted intelligence supplemented by decades of dungeon crawling in video and tabletop games on Earth, wished him luck.



Obscene Beasts and How to Kill Them, by far Drake's favorite class title, was exactly what it sounded like. The Instructor, Kang, was a battle-scarred bovinid man, a veteran with an eye patch and a love for dramatic storytelling. He took the class from Aslan as the leonid took a well-earned break, and guided the students through the horrifying abominations that Dagorath had spewed into the world, creature by creature, including their theorized origins, and the known extent of their abilities. The class was held underground, and the stone brick walls flickered with magical projections of towering monstrosities, their twisted forms shifting as the instructor described their habits, weaknesses, and worst-case scenarios. Drake recognized far too many of them, yet another reminder that Dimensional Echoes were at work, though thankfully his D&D knowledge often turned out to be wrong, as he got a name for a creature slightly wrong, or gave it an ability it wasn't known to have. He proved competent, but Kang eyed him with a weird look whenever this happened, probably because Drake always sounded sure of himself, and wary from what had to be experience. He let out a sigh of relief when the Instructor continued the lesson without mentioning certain nightmare-inducing creatures, like Beholders, or a Tarrasque. Some creatures were better left on the tabletop.

By the end of the day, Drake was assigned his dormitory. The fourth floor's twentieth room. That made him chuckle, as he had always celebrated the Highest of Earth Holidays with gusto, and weed. He briefly wondered if Arcadia had hemp, but then remembered, his teenaged brain wasn't ready for drugs, and they were probably against the Code of Conduct that he'd been issued, but hadn't actually read. The hallways of the dormitory wing were lined with thick wooden doors, each marked with glowing runes to indicate their magical security enchantments.

Pushing his door open, he stepped into a spacious room, far more lavish than he had anticipated. There were three large beds, each separated by wooden partitions to afford a modicum of privacy. A single enchanted lantern hung in the center, casting a warm glow. Bookshelves lined one side of the room, already filled with various tomes, likely courtesy of one of his roommates. A sturdy desk occupied the far corner, covered in carefully arranged notes, diagrams, and spell matrices. The air held the faint scent of parchment, ink, and unwashed teenage male.



Drake's arrival did not go unnoticed. One of his roommates, Vincent, was already seated at the desk, meticulously reviewing a thick tome, his glasses reflecting the lantern's glow. He barely spared Drake a glance before returning to his studies, though his silence spoke volumes. He would not be defeated so easily again. The other, was the sharp-eyed merman with deep crimson hair and a handsome face, Caelum, who looked up from his own book, offering a polite nod. "Ah, Drake Long. We didn't have a chance to meet today. I am Caelum Triton, a Sage who specializes in healing and offensive water magic. I expect we will be seeing much of each other in the coming months."

Drake set his bag down on the empty bed, glancing between the two. "Good to meet you, Caelum. Hope you don't mind a bit of company."

Caelum gave a faint smile. "As long as you do not mind the faint smell of the ocean and fish, we should be just fine."

Vincent finally spoke, not looking up from his book. "Try to keep the noise level reasonable. Unlike some, I intend to spend my nights refining my strategies, not causing disruptions."

Drake smirked. "Duly noted."



As the night stretched on, Drake sat on his bed, status screen hovering before him. The events of the day replayed in his mind; the battles, the lessons, the romance, the tests of wit and willpower. He had expected this world to challenge him, but not in the ways it already had. More than the combat, the camaraderie, and the lessons, it was the simple fact that he had carved out a place for himself here, however tenuous. He wasn't just an anime enjoyer watching events unfold. He was in it now, truly part of some great story that had yet to even properly start.

He checked his status one final time, smirked at the visible progress he'd made, and then quickly fell into a deep sleep, thoroughly exhausted from the day.

His dreams were not to be undisturbed however, as his unconscious mind was enveloped in a golden glow. "So, my Hero, how was the first day of the rest of your new life?"

Drake groaned tiredly. "It...it was a lot. But I leveled up into double digits, at least. I won't be as much of a burden on my party, now. Although...I did umm...I did face a problem I could use your Divine guidance with."

Laurelin smirked at him, knowingly. "The flirting?"

"The flirting!" Drake said, exasperated, mumbling it loudly in his sleep. Caelum and Vincent shared a look, sighed, and tried to go back to bed. Drake continued in his head, oblivious to his roommates, "I didn't even think about it, but I mean, I'm technically twice the age of everyone in my class. The only reason I could keep up with Vincent, whose also my fucking roommate apparently, is because of my life experience, and that same experience is...making me hesitant about forming any uhh...romantic relationships."



Laurelin broke into laughter. For a solid two minutes. It just kept going every time she saw his expression.

Finally, he said, "I'm glad my awkward pain is so amusing to you, Goddess..."

She gave him a kind smile. "Drake Long, for that is who you are, now, you are a sixteen year old male. These relationships are important, and they'll last you the rest of your life. Spurning romance now will only cause problems later, when you decide you do want to woo one of them."

"But...but it's so...Wrong!" Drake countered.

Laurelin fixed him with a stare, then. "I'm going to be blunt, Drake, and I need you to hear me. Your past life's romantic exploits were...objectively sad." Drake winced, but Laurelin kept going, and did not hold back. If she was going to watch his exploits, she wanted some romantic spice, and though she'd never admit it, she was one hundred percent the reason Rose Valcrest had ended up in his eventual class. Drake hadn't remembered the reference that was his name yet, but she certainly had, to her amusement. She hadn't expected Tala, though. Laurelin knew, if she wanted her dose of drama, she had to break down this admittedly fair hangup her Hero had, and make him understand the objective truth, harsh though it was.

"Your first relationship was ended by parental interference, and a relocation. The next three were all long distance, over the Internet, and didn't really count. Your most serious one ended abruptly when it also became long distance, and she eventually left you for someone closer, and the final one barely counted as a relationship because you had, by your definition, 'checked out' already and determined your Earth had enough people living on it. The epitome of casual, that one."



"I get it, I was awkward and incompetent at love." Drake muttered. He wasn't used to Laurelin being so blunt. He'd also thought he was over his romantic incompetence, but her words had cut him deep.

"My point is, Drake, your past life's choices did not a Lothario make. Your actual experience, is about the same as an average teenager, but you have the added benefit of understanding what not to do, what goes where, and what to stimulate to get results. You have the means, motive, and opportunity to have a proper teenage romance, so take my advice: do not hold back. Trust your heart, and you won't regret it. You are once again a teenager, and should not feel guilty for experiencing perfectly normal teenage desires."

Drake pondered for a long time, going silent. She was, technically right. By every metric, he was now sixteen, and though he had lived more years than his peers, they had not been spent on romance. He knew the mechanics of course, enough to achieve the basic goal of a sexual encounter, but his only actual epic romance had become long distance, and never overcame that distance again. It had also effectively broken his heart, and his hope of finding a 'soul mate'. "I'm...I'm just gonna see what happens, I guess." He said with a sigh. He wondered if he still wasn't over the aforementioned romance.

Laurelin nodded, smiling knowingly, and with a suppressed chuckle said, "Very well, Drake. I will let you rest. Just be aware; polygamous marriages are quite common on Arcadia! Byeeee!"

And with that, she was gone. Drake mentally narrowed his eyes, wondering at the Goddess's motivations, before tiredly letting them go. It didn't matter what she wanted, or what the common romantic entanglements on Arcadia were like; in no reality would he ever willingly create a harem.

---

For those curious, here's Class Seven's layout, definitely not in any particular order whatsoever.

 

[Sahqoreyth]

Chapter 3: My First Guild Quest Was To Punch A Thunderstorm, So I Did

I'm having way too much fun writing this.

Enjoy.​

---

The Galdurian Arc Warden Academy, Boy's Dormitory - Primus City​

The first thing Drake noticed about his new world upon awakening, was how technologically advanced it was. It wasn't even electricity based technology, either. It was magic tech. The most important invention being, of course, the shower, with an honorable second place mention to the Magitoilet. There were no sewers on Arcadia, all the waste was just teleported, apparently, to a fiery volcano dungeon whose inhabitants, apparently, liked it. So much so, that said Dungeon hadn't spewed forth monsters in centuries to attack the civilized world, and in return, adventurers didn't raid the place. It was as close to peace as the minions of Dagorath had gotten, with the other races.


Vincent had been up at the ass crack of dawn, studying, and Caelum could apparently wash himself off with his magic as he pleased, so Drake had plenty of time to enjoy a steamy spray of perfectly controlled water. It was infinite water, too, so there was no inherent guilt about washing himself in enough clean water to support entire villages, for weeks, on remote or poor parts of the Earth.


This morning, Drake was using his shower thoughts to make a decision: buxom, bouncing, bunny girl, or gorgeous elf Sage? Both blonde, both beautiful, and both healers of significant skill. He knew he had to pick one to pursue, and not lead on, when ideally, he'd get to know them both before deciding. Whoever he showed a preference for was sure to make the other hurt right in the feels though, and despite knowing rejection would hurt regardless, neither young woman deserved to be led on or lied to.


Then, there was also the elephantine skeleton in his closet to consider. He knew how trying to hide one's isekai status went, and he knew it would get out eventually. All anyone had to do was read his Status to see he was a special boi. How each of them would react to that knowledge, for he intended to share all of it (which was the only way this situation stopped creeping him out because of the age gap) was also something to consider. That conversation would happen soon as well, as he didn't want either of them falling for his pretty facade and then being disgusted when they learned he was technically twice their age.






Finally, he made his choice. Despite the appeal of Tala's bouncy bunny booty that his instinct driven eyes had noticed the day before, there was just something about Rose that hit different. She had a Zelda vibe to her but the attraction went beyond mere physicality. "Well Drake Long, looks like it's Rose for…you…wait a fucking minute…" He muttered, as his cognitive wheels finally turned, and his Earth memories finally made the connection.


It was at that point that Laurelin's mysterious 'reference' with his name clicked into place for Drake. He'd asked her why he hadn't chosen his own name, and she said that once he understood her reference, he'd probably laugh, and roll with it, knowing him. He was, indeed, physically laughing, as he realized he was now the American Dragon…Monk. Drake Long. Classic.


He heard Laurelin's laughter in his head, then. "It's about time, Hero…given how much that show influenced your last life, I was sure you'd remember sooner…and to further encourage you to embrace your new status, Drake Long, if you can spell your name to have the same flow as the theme song, I'll grant you a Boon." Drake, of course, knew what she was referencing. Jake Long, the 'Amdrag' himself better known to some nerds as the voice of Fire Prince Zuko, had an admittedly catchy flow in his Disney show's intro theme song. Before the second season had ruined it. He probably hadn't made the connection since he'd been younger than he was currently when he'd watched the Disney channel for the last time. But that catchy flow still echoed in his thoughts.


"From the D to the R to the A to the K to the…no, that doesn't flow at all." He muttered.






He heard the Goddess giggle again, and before she faded away, he asked her a question that had been bugging him since yesterday. "Goddess…am I the only Monk in the world?"


Laurelin answered, her good mood conducive to exposition. "You are the first. There was one other who multiclassed into it later in their life, but they never acquired skills from it, beyond using meditation to focus their mind. Your peers don't know what you are, because no one has ever properly started or multiclassed to Monk early enough to learn its martial arts. The weapon arts and spellcasting are much more common, not to mention, easier to master."


"Yea…that makes sense. I'll work on having my name match the flow of the show. Stay tuned." She giggled again, wishing him luck, but he was motivated now. She'd dangled the perfect reward in front of him. It was literally too good to ignore, though he couldn't fathom why Laurelin was offering something that big for something so objectively small, that nobody on this planet would understand as a reference. Maybe she just wanted a laugh, or maybe there was a particular Bard she was grooming to one day literally sing his praises. At this point, that wouldn't surprise him.






The mornings of his days were, according to Instructor Aslan, to be spent working for the Adventurer's Guild, to build rapport with their staff, and get their names somewhat known amongst those they could very well one day end up leading on a Dungeon Raid. Everyone else in class had groaned at Aslan's mandate, though, which led Drake to believe there was a catch. As he arrived in the Primus Adventurer's Guild, he suddenly understood the catch.


He was still in his uniform, since he lacked any kind of armor, not that Monk armor even existed anyway. Any regular clothing he wore would probably be about as equally protective as 'Monk armor', the way he saw it. As he saw his classmates though, he realized he was very much alone in his assumption. Vincent was on his case immediately. "Imbecile!" He hissed. "You can't wear the Academy's uniform here! Not only will it get ruined beyond use almost immediately, you just painted a giant blue and gold target on us!"


"Don' get pissy with him, glasses." Came an obnoxious, rough voice. They turned to behold three heavily armored and armed veteran adventurers, sporting steel plates stamped with the Adventurer's Guild's seal on their armor as a sign of their skill level. "Tha entire place had you newbies pegged as Arc Warden babbies tha moment you waddled in 'ere."






Drake stared at the human scum with a bored, blank expression. "And? So what if we're from the Academy? That means every single one of us has more magical potential in our pinky than your entire genetic lineage."


The two geniuses beside their truly foul smelling leader made 'ohoo' noises, and Drake noted his classmates facepalming. "Big talk frum a kid tha' showed up in his Academy jammies."


Drake narrowed his eyes. "This is a uniform, Trash Heap. One representing the colors of the God of Magic. You'd do well to remember that." The leader looked back at his comrades with a knowing smirk, but if this was a trap, Drake was going to spring it. He was confident he could take any of the losers before him one on one. His level might have been low, but he had the Kung Fu knowledge of a Master in his brain, and a body capable of using it. He was also absurdly durable, which meant his punches hit harder than they should have. "I can change into my bedclothes, if you prefer. I'll kick your mongrel ass in whatever outfit you want, it makes no difference to a class that uses Light Armor."


Vincent grabbed his shoulder. "Drake, we're not allowed to start brawls-"






The sad excuse for an adventurer mocked Vincent's tone. "Waaaaah! Wuwr nowt awowed to stawt bwawls! Hahahahaha!"


Drake's eyes narrowed, and he found his voice deepening towards what it had been in his old life, as he said, "I'm not going to brawl here, in the Guild of Primus. But if this Human garbage wants a Duel to settle this nonsense, I will happily show him Exactly where he ranks, compared to an Academy First Year." Drake smirked then, and dropped the bait. "The lowest level First Year in my entire class, I might add. Surely a big stwong steewl cwass Adventuwer can take a level ten, no?" He taunted, mimicking the man's tone.


By this point, the entire tavern floor of the guild was watching with bemused expressions, and as Drake planned, the crowd made an 'oooooooh' as he laid down the gauntlet. The scum didn't have enough brain cells to wonder why a level ten first year student would do something like this. Anyone with a brain, might have known the Academy did not enroll idiots, and been more cautious, but it seemed the disease of stupidity was as rampant on Arcadia, as it was on Earth. And once again, to his dismay, prevalent among humans. Dimensional Echoes at work, no doubt. "Yer on, whelp." The man snarled, thrusting forward a hand. "I agree to tha duel. Name tha terms."






As Drake took his hand, he suddenly knew, without knowing how he knew, that the man was exactly level fifty. High, for a steel rank adventurer, and likely at what Aslan had called the 'Blood Limit'. Apparently, those without Arc Warden levels of potential had a limit to the amount of levels they could gain, and eventually stopped. According to his research though, a level fifty should've been able to advance to the next class of adventurer. Either way, he was practically drooling at the chance for that much experience. A level twenty five construct had boosted him from three to ten. A level fifty seasoned warrior, stupid though he may have been, might just boost him further, especially with his experience gain.


"One on one. No weapons, no potions, no healing. I came here to quest today, and I don't have time to punch through your potions. Not that you should need them against a level ten." Drake said, smirking, and gripping the man's hand tighter.


The steel adventurer was all in, unfortunately for him. "I accept. An' I don't want no repercushions from tha Academy when I beat one of their little babbies bloody."


Drake grinned malevolently, as his grip tightened on the man's hand even further. The adventurer tried to pull it back, but Drake did not relent as he all but snarled. "Oh I promise…the Academy will hear nothing of this from me." With that, their hands glowed with magic, as the symbol of a flag bearing a pair of crossed swords hovered over their fists.


"The duel is agreed upon…and in the interest of safety, the Guild will be holding it on the roof." One of the elven counter attendants said, giving Drake a sympathetic look. Forty levels was an insurmountable wall, as he would soon learn. "Those who wish to watch, should ascend now. This way, gentlemen…"






Drake finally let the man's hand go, and he sneered at Drake, following the woman. Drake went after them, but stopped as he felt a light hand on his shoulder. He turned, and felt his breath vanish, as Rose's absurdly pretty eyes locked on his. "You should forfeit, Drake…these Adventurers love situations like this…and if you lose, our class will look weak. Also…I-"


She was cut off by Tala, who sensed a moment happening, and got in front of it, literally pushing Rose out of the way as she took one of Drake's hands. "I can't bear to watch you be hurt!" She said with her big golden bunny eyes wide and pleading, "The rules say nothing about a Buff. Fortitude!" She intoned, and Drake blinked, as the divine magic surged into him, significantly raising his health, and strength. For a time.


"Cat's Grace!" Came Rose's voice, as she Enhanced his Ability for good measure, boosting dexterity, if he recalled rightly. She gave him a small, shy smile. "Don't die up there, alright? You're definitely going to get in trouble for losing, though…the Headmaster doesn't like bad press."


"Ladies." He said calmly, evenly, his mind already calmed and focused, for battle, "Have a little faith that I'll win. I managed just fine against the Fire Elemental. Compared to that, this trash is nothing."


"He's a seasoned level fifty Steel Ranked Adventurer." Vincent snarled, gripping his staff so hard it would've broken had it not been magical. "He's going to wipe the floor with you. Absolute. Imbecile."






"Glad to have your support, roomie." Drake said, smirking at the Enchanter, who looked ready to snap. He leveled his staff at Drake and snarled, "Enhance Strength! Enhance Movement! Chant of fucking Fortitude!" Three more buffs landed on Drake's person, as he blinked in surprise.


"If you're going to talk so big…you had better fucking win!" Vincent snarled, making his own way up the stairs the spectators were using, alongside the rest of the class. That left Drake with Tala and Rose, neither of whom was willing to depart first.


He smiled at both of them. "Thank you, both, for the Buffs. But seriously. Believe in the me that's going to crush that asshole. The prayers of two beautiful healers is all I need, for victory. Watch." He nodded and smiled at Tala, winked at Rose, and then turned to walk confidently up the stairs. As he went, he stretched his arms, stopping at each square landing to stretch his legs. He could feel the magic empowering him, and as he made it to the top of the building, or rather, a high balcony that had been converted into a fighting field for practicing adventurers, he heard the man's obnoxious laughter.


"Aww look! Little Academy babby got himself some Tier One Buffs! Bahahaha!" He popped a potion and went to chug it, when suddenly, it was snatched from his hands. Indignantly, he blinked at the Guild Clerk holding his potion.


"The rules were clear, Mr. Kedran. No potions. Magic, like Buffs, is allowed."






The foul smelling excuse for an adventurer, Kedran, apparently, scoffed. "I don' need no fucking Buffs to crush this runt. Come on already, fresh meat! I'm starvin' over here! I'm hungry like a woooolf!" He howled, and his compatriots chuckled. Drake took in the crowd as well, and frowned.


The clerk was equidistant between them, on Drake's side of the field, were his classmates. Garret gave him an encouraging thumbs up and a confident nod, while Sethis and the rest seemed assured of his imminent loss. Vincent was still fuming, but watching closely. Rosa and Tala were holding hands, united, briefly, in their worry for their hot classmate. Drake didn't notice, but their resident dark elf, Lyria, was also watching him closely. His performance with the elemental yesterday, namely the way that he moved…intrigued her. It also helped that he was pleasant to look at.


Drake fell into his Dragon Stance, and smirked at Kedran. "A wolf…is no match for a Dragon…"


"Begin!" The clerk shouted, stepping back.


Kedran waltzed forward two steps, and then blinked. Drake was gone. "Wot the fu-" An almighty crack echoed across the balcony, as Drake channeled his buffed speed and his Street Fighter knowledge into a beautiful Shoryuken to the jaw. He was by no means done, though. He could feel his magical power surging through him, and it was showing him details of his opponent that hadn't been there seconds ago. He spun gracefully as he rapidly landed and adjusted from the uppercut, straight into a high roundhouse kick to Kedran's midsection. Empowered by magic, Drake's eyes widened as his durable, hardened foot sent the man hurtling into the white brick wall of the Guild with a resounding boom.






Drake rose from his stance, awkwardly, and looked at the clerk. She was an elven woman with her chestnut brown hair drawn back in a ponytail. "He still has health…should I leave him, or…?"


"The duel will end when one participant runs out of Health Points." She informed him calmly. Drake nodded, and took his stance again, as Kedran got up, swearing like a sea captain.


"Smarmy…fucking…juiced up, inbred, cousin fuckin', CUNT! I'LL KILL YO-" He launched a basic Flare at the first year, but Drake was a blur again, gone from where he'd been standing. Another boom filled the air as Kedran smashed into the brick wall a second time, from a speeding gut punch from Drake's hardened fist. Then, he just started pummeling the man. Eight heavy strikes to his face, followed by Drake going full Rocky Balboa training on cold meat montage on his midsection, and then a graceful sweep of the legs and a falling People's Elbow to the gut ended Kedran's remaining health, by his estimation.


The clerk was there, ready to stop him, but Drake was nowhere near blinded with rage. If anything, he was as calm as a still lake. He gestured to the adventurer, and the clerk checked his pulse and status, nodding. "Adventurer Kedran, Steel Rank, is unable to continue! The winner is…umm…" She paused awkwardly, gesturing to Drake, who wiped his brow, and addressed the crowd.






He walked before them, and projected his voice. "My name, is Drake Long. I'm the world's first Monk!" The crowd murmured, having never heard that word. "For those who don't know, Monks essentially 'punch things until they die.'" He said with actual air quotes. "We're also pretty fast, but not very well armored. I look forward to working with all of you!" Fist to palm, he bowed low, and rose once the slow confusion and disbelief shifted to highly entertained disbelief and raucous insults at Kedran's incompetence.


"This kid's a whole new class? The fuck?"


"Wow! I knew that guy sucked, but beaten by a level ten!?"


"Monks are legit, man…"


"He's going to get demoted a rank for sure."


"Nah mate, I think the kid is just that good. He's on an Arc Warden's level, remember?"


"Nah, you're right…those kids are just on another level…seeing it in action though…damn."


Similar murmurings followed the crowd as they descended, and left Drake chuckling. He flexed his fists, testing them. Normally, in his old body, punching someone's face bones and rib bones would've hurt. Now, they barely tingled. "Durability…" He muttered, grinning. "Worth it."






Then, he felt a familiar press into his back as toned feminine arms wrapped around him from behind. Yet, he did not buckle under Tala's weight. "You did it! Holy shit! I don't even…how!?" She shrieked in his ear. Gently, Drake unclipped her arms, and turned to the stunned faces of his class, and the clerk.


"That…was cool." Garret rumbled in approval, as Sethis, despite his skepticism, nodded in agreement.


"And hot." Tala giggled. Drake felt his face heat up, suddenly.


"Like a frozen Sun…" Nyara muttered, disbelief plain on her feline features.


"I too would like to know how you accomplished this, Mr. Long." The clerk stated, amazed how one so young could move so fast. "The disparity in level…this result should've been impossible…or at least harder to achieve…" Quietly, she wondered if she was looking at the start of a Chosen One's rise.


They were exceedingly rare, mortals favored directly by Laurelin and Galdurath, but every few centuries, one would appear. Usually right before a Demon Lord. She suppressed a shudder of fear. Their world had gone centuries now without a new Demon Lord appearing…which meant the next one would be seriously bad news, if the past was prologue.


Drake chuckled, nonchalantly shrugging as he'd already stopped sweating. "Look people, I'm not braggin'...I'm just an American Dragon…Style Monk." He tried not to burst into laughter, but he did have a wide smirk on his face.


"Amer…ican?" Vincent said, puzzled, irritated, but smiling despite himself. Their new classmate was certainly something.


In the back of his head, Drake heard Laurelin giggling hysterically.






The clerk ahemmed, before the blonde bun could make further advances. "You'll need to come with me, Mr. Long. The Guild Master is…going to want to hear about this. Having a level fifty veteran so soundly beaten is going to be a big hit to our competence."


"Or, the start of a meteoric rise from another Academy student." Drake offered. "Surely the G.A.W.A. is renowned enough for this to not be that surprising, right? We do also have to get started on our Quests, guys." He made his voice deep, like Aslan's then, "Time waits for no one…" That, made smirks break out across his still shocked classmates. Every single one of them knew for sure now, their new rapidly leveling classmate was in no way weak.


It was at that point, that Rose spoke up. "I'll be your party's healer, Drake…if you'll have me." She gave him a small but hopeful smile.


The victorious Hero smiled genuinely back at her. "Gladly, Rose…so now all we need is a tank…" Garret thumped his basic iron breastplate, and gave the pair a nod, "And another damage dealer…" He cast his eyes towards the rest of the class.


At that point, a voice Drake didn't recognize, because it rarely spoke up, filled the air. "I will aid your party, Drake Long. Your skills are…impressive…if confusing. I wish to see more." The owner of said voice turned out to be their resident dark elf, Lyria.


Drake inclined his head towards her. "Glad to have a powerful Sorceress along. And with that, I think we've achieved a balance of beauty, and brawn, eh Garret?" He elbowed the giant lion man, who chuckled awkwardly, glanced at Lyria, and then looked away quickly. The dark elf smirked at him.






As the rest of the class split up and set off, Drake, Rose, Garret, and Lyria followed the Guild's clerk up another flight of stairs to what Drake recognized as an elevator. Naturally, like all the other tech he was noticing today, powered by magic. As they made it to the top floor and entered the Guild Master's office, Drake noted it was considerably less magical. A magnificent, massive red-orange greatsword with a pair of S shaped twin blades comprising its length sat on the wall, covered in visible dust. The master himself was standing before a window, hands behind his back, as he looked out over Primus.

​

"Sir, I've brought the Academy student involved in the duel below."


"Thank you, Kelista. That will be all, for now." The massive golden armored form rumbled. The clerk gave them all a look, and then hurried off. "I saw your class's handiwork down there. But even without Buffs, that…Monk, was it? That Monk would've torn through Kedran regardless." The man turned then, and the party blinked, as they saw a scarred human visage, still handsome, despite the damage. Drake blinked, as his eyes and their seemingly new ability to evaluate people registered him as a High Human, like Drake was. Rose was considered a High Elf, and according to Laurelin, the 'high' versions of a species were simply those with exponentially strong magical potential in their blood. She'd made Drake a High Human mostly as a joke though, one they had both found amusing. He was glad his patron Goddess had such a good sense of humor.






"Adventurers like Kedran are a stain on what we do." The Guild Master stated flatly. He'll be demoted posthaste. I've only been looking for an excuse, until now." The Guild Master crossed his burly arms, then. "You there. Dragon Monk. Step forward."


Drake did so, and as he did, he once again felt he was in the presence of one who could reduce him to atoms, if they wished to do so. "I am Guild Master Solus, of the Primus Adventurer's Guild." He needlessly said, "This effectively makes me the head of the entire Guild all across Arcadia. You seem like a capable fighter, despite your low level. Bring up your Status for me, please."

Drake briefly hesitated, but as the man raised a scarred eyebrow, he did so. Quietly, Solus looked over the information. "From level ten, to level twenty five. Most impressive, but how... Ahh. I see. Lord Galdurath and Goddess Laurelin's will becomes clear, as their latest ally appears now, in an age of peace that has not known a Demon Lord in generations." Drake winced as he heard sharp inhales from behind him. Garret, as usual, was taking things in stride, but then, the leonid had known Drake was special since they'd met. It was the girls who were shocked by learning their newest classmate was a Chosen of the Gods. "Drake Long. I am giving you and your party a Quest worthy of your skills. Complete it, and I shall promote you to Mithril Ranked Adventurers on the spot, and give you a bonus in the form of compensation as well. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to protect a herd of migrating Alicorns currently flying over the Elven forest of Silmaril east of here."






Drake's eyes widened in shock, and he silently, immediately, reached out to the Goddess. Her answer was amused, but measured.


"Calm down, my Hero. There isn't an actual Silmaril there. It's simply a name the Elves of old chose for the land after learning my origin, a story that you don't have time for right now."


Solus was still talking, and Drake blinked as he sensed Rose had now walked up beside him. "…some kind of beast that the Guild hasn't identified yet. What we do know is that if it's hunting Alicorns, it's powerful, and has likely feasted on some before. This mission would be difficult for most Adamantine parties, but with your levels and skills as future Arc Wardens, it should be well within your skill sets. Take a moment, before you accept. Death is a very real possibility."






Drake huddled up with his allies a few feet from Solus's desk. "I think our party is ideal." Garret rumbled. "I say we rise to this challenge."


"I…really need the money." Drake muttered. "And I trust in our skills."


Rose, however, seemed worried. "He said it was a flying monster. Can you handle aerial combat, Drake?"


He nodded. "If our Sorceress can boost me with Fly, it won't be an issue."


Lyria scoffed. "I'd need a Pegasus feather to learn a spell that strong. I'm good, not that good. Pegasi are insanely rare. We didn't all come to the Academy riding in a carriage pulled by four of them. And yes, I did check for feathers once I heard about that."


Drake grinned at her. "Would an Alicorn feather do? If our lovely Elf Sage can approach one and ask for such a gift, we can help protect their herd. Either way, Garret and I would probably spook them."


Rose peered at the handsome monk, her cheeks slightly more pink. "More of your strange sometimes-accurate-sometimes-not beastlore?"


Drake shrugged. "From what little I know of Unicorns and Alicorns, they will apparently only tolerate female virgins. Not male ones. So it's up to you, ladies."






Rose's face went scarlet, and Lyria's darkened to a mix of black and purple. Garret awkwardly looked up and away from both women, wisely not touching that subject in any discernible way. "You assume much Drake Long!" Lyria hissed at him.


Drake blinked. "Oh. My bad. Are you both not…?"


"Of course we are!" Rose whisper-shouted. "It's still incredibly rude to assume though!"


Behind them, Drake heard Solus failing not to chuckle. "I'm…sorry, ladies. Clearly you're more sensitive about this than I am. My apologies. The point still stands. One of you can approach the Alicorns, beg a feather, and then we'll be able to fly against whatever Monster is hunting them. And if that fails…I do have a trump card that can fly me around, but…I don't know if he's ready yet. Either way, I'm very much down for this Quest."






Lyria looked at Rose, then shrugged. "I like this plan. I say we go for it."


Rose sighed, composing herself. "A-Alright. I don't want creatures like Alicorns being devoured by some Demonspawn. Let's save them."


"Good!" Solus boomed, having heard every word the teens had spoken. They reminded him of his own days at the Academy, back when Galdurath had still taught there. "Now that you've accepted, I'll sweeten your reward, to further motivate you. If all the Alicorns safely make it to the northern continent, I'll double your monetary reward, throw in some second tier, class appropriate armor, and make you Adamantine rank. Obviously, if you hadn't figured it out, the Guild and our beloved Goddess Laurelin are very invested in making sure the Alicorns arrive intact. Their role in Arcadia's ecosystem is vital. Good luck."






As the party left the Guild's headquarters, they gathered around Lyria for Teleportation, which was within her skill set. They appeared in an elven city, and Drake got his first proper look at one. He was reminded of Night Elf cities, but this one was much brighter, and didn't have actual buildings. The homes and businesses had been built into carefully hollowed trees, probably through magic, and the trees didn't seem negatively affected by that. They'd simply grown around whatever the elves built within them, as nature always did. Instead of resisting that though, the elves of Arcadia had embraced and utilized it to their advantage. Some of the trees seemed as tall as skyscrapers, marking them as ancient.


Seeing his expression, Rose smirked up at him, as he had about a head of height on her. "First time in an Elven city?" Drake nodded. "Some day I'll have to show you Fangorn, our capital." Her cheeks flushed slightly, as he shifted his eyes to hers. "If you want to, of course…"


"I do." He answered smoothly. "Who better than a High Elf Sage to show me around? I think I'd get lost without a guide, it just looks like a forest to me."


Lyria ahemmed loudly. "If you two are done, we need to get moving, if we're going to find them before whatever is hunting them."






Nodding in agreement, Garret and Lyria led the way, while Rose quietly pointed out the buildings to Drake's eyes. Eventually he saw what gave away a home or business from a regular tree, but he let Rose go on explaining. He didn't mind hearing her voice.


The journey was long, but primarily boring. They came across a violent pack of wolves, but made ridiculously short work of them as Garret drew their aggro, and the other three punched, burned, and smote them to death. Even Drake hadn't leveled up from them. To counter the sheer boredom of walking, Drake tried controlling the wind, and getting some airbending under his belt. It'd be incredibly useful for the fight to come. Unfortunately, the wind didn't answer, but Rose was supportive every time he failed.


When they came upon a small river, Drake had a chance for redemption. Thankfully, the water was more responsive, and he was able to impress his party members with a series of flashy moves straight out of The Last Airbender. They refilled their water canteens, part of the standard Adventurer Kit that came with the usual bedroll, spark stone, and travel rations. As well as, of course, rope.






Figuring his party would be knowledgeable about the composition of their adventuring gear, Drake slyly made a show of examining the rope, and then said, "So uhh, what do you guys think this is made of, exactly?"


The three of them shared a look. Rose shrugged, Lyria was too puzzled to answer him as she just squinted at him, but Garret, bless his big beautiful furry face, said, "Uhh…Hemp? It's called hempen rope, so…"


"Yes!" Drake whooped, and the others shared another look. No one commented, though. Sometimes Drake asked weird questions, almost like he somehow didn't know basic things about the world. Like what people made rope out of.


For Drake, the logic was simple. If Hemp existed, then the fun version also existed. Probably. And even if it didn't, it could. He was still too young for that, but some day, he would once again celebrate the Highest of holidays, for Arcadia also had twelve months, though he hadn't memorized the names yet. Currently, it was the Earth equivalent of Fall, which meant the school year at the Academy was similar to the one in America, starting in Fall and likely ending for a break in early Summer. The seasons, oddly enough, did have the same names.






He kept trying airbending as they walked, but had a continuous lack of success, until Lyria signaled that she'd found the herd. "Alright ladies," Garret rumbled after Drake nudged him. "You know what to do."


Drake gave them a thumbs up. "Good luck!" The girls gave him an unamused look, confirming they still hadn't forgiven his faux pas.


As Garret and Drake waited in silence, he continued futilely trying to match Jake Long's flow quietly, to himself. "From the D to the R to the A, K, E…" His eyes widened. That…actually flowed correctly. "I'm the…Dragon Monk…daddy of the N.Y.C. Ya heard…?"


He sat up suddenly, drawing Garret's attention, and practically shouted it in his head, properly, with the right speed, and he grinned as he felt Laurelin's amusement. "I knew you'd get there…good timing, too. Choose your Boon, Hero. Or, two Minor Boons instead of a major one."


"Oh, that's…that's gonna need a minute…what qualifies as a Minor Boon, Goddess?"


"Armor, weapons, a reasonable boost to your stats…it'd be easier if you knew what you wanted, and I could tell you if it qualifies as minor, or not."


"I'll let you know, Goddess. I appreciate your infinite patience." She confirmed his words, and Drake sensed her humming his flow in her own mind, to her immense amusement.






A minute later, Drake had his choices. "So…wise and merciful Goddess…would learning another Language not native to Arcadia count as a Minor Boon? The one I have in mind would be from a place you probably know well."


She chuckled in his skull. "I had a feeling you would eventually ask to wield the Dovah Zul. Hmmm. I'll allow it as a Minor Boon, with the caveat that you have to learn any Shouts. I will grant you one Shout to begin with, though, for I am a merciful Goddess."


Drake grinned wider. "Merciful indeed, fair Laurelin. Well, if I'm the American Dragon Monk…only one shout will do!" He heard her chuckle again, as he shouted, in his head, "Dovah…Alok!" Roughly, of course, this translated as 'dragon rise' but in Drake Long's context, it was 'Dragon Up'. Because of course it was.


"If you find yourself falling short of power in your fast-approaching battle, try your Shout. It will burn a considerable amount of magic, so be aware. Your second Minor Boon?"


"I need better armor than my school uniform." Drake stated plainly, "and since no such Monk armor currently exists…I was hoping for a robe. Maybe…something white, gold and green trim, with a Yin Yang symbol on the back. Silk, probably, but enchanted with…let's say tier two magic, with the potential for more. Crafting skills are something I really want to look into…y'know, when I have a minute. As far as effects…turning my movement speed into a flight speed would be ideal to start with. That and the tier two defenses should be enough for a Minor Boon, and it will greatly aid me in keeping your Alicorns safe."


"Your Boons are granted, Drake Long. Fight well. The beast that is coming is…a true horror."






As Drake grimaced, suddenly less confident if Goddess Laurelin was calling their opponent a true horror. Then, several things happened at once. Drake was illuminated by a flash of light, and Garret stared, mouth open, fangs visible, as a folded white garment trimmed with gold appeared in his arms. He held it up, letting it fall open before him, and noted a white, silken, breathable top and bottoms as well. Underclothes, for the robe to go over, not at all dissimilar from what monks wore on Earth. "Yessss." Drake hissed. "Monk armor! I'll be right back, Garret!"


The black maned leonid just stared, as his ally dashed into the bushes to change. "What…the actual fuck…"


Then, sensing something, the leonid looked towards the girls. The Alicorns were launching into the air in a panic, while Rose and Lyria were readying spells. With a snarl, he leapt from the bushes with a skill designed to help big, heavy bois like him get where they needed to in a timely manner, just as a sparking black claw wreathed in red and black lightning struck at Lyria. Garret's shield pulsed with blue light first, then red, and the beast who owned the claw shifted its burning red eyes to him.


It was a creature from a nightmare, not entirely unlike a leonid, or the Lions they'd come from, but whatever this had once been, Dagorath's power had warped it into something else entirely. Two massive leathery demonic wings rose into the sky, and Garret noted they were coated in sharp, black armor, as were its forearms and elbows. Its mane was almost white, save for the bloody tint that darkened it, and the leonid knight grimaced, as he saw for himself the ever-lingering stain that Unicorn blood came with. It didn't seem fresh at least, so their bonus was still intact. Then, he saw its stats, and his eyes widened. Level seventy five. The three of them were just under forty. This was not something they could take. Not unless Drake had another ridiculous card up his sleeve, which, to be fair, he had hinted that he did have. Leveling up had apparently given him several intense new skills, including something that could, apparently, cause near instant death, or at the very least, significant damage that couldn't be resisted.

​

Lyria attacked anyway, as a barrage of Fireballs launched from her crescent Moon tipped staff. What truly hurt it though, was the Smite that Rose landed on it, manifested as a slash of divine light. "Anyone remember what the fuck a Raiju is!?" Garret shouted, but the girls both answered with a negative. "Balls." He rumbled. The name of the game now, was kiting it away from the Alicorns. Even if they fell and became its next meal, the mythical winged and horned creatures would be given a significant head start. "I'll kite it!" He shouted, "Rose! Hasten them!"


Forcing the sparking claw away, Garret bravely charged the beast and forced it to step backwards as he sliced at its paws and face. It leapt back into the air, snarling as lightning began building around it. He had no doubt Drake was coming, his new friend was probably just waiting for an opening. "Starting Debuffs!" Lyria called out, as she used her innate sorcerer powers to cast three spells at once. Then, once the relatively quick debuffs fell over the Raiju, she summoned a Lightning Elemental. "Divert its attacks! Or we're dead!" She ordered. The being composed of pure plasma made a nodding motion where its eyes were, and shot into the air above the Raiju, waiting to strike.


Garret, for his part, was going blow for blow with the massive beast, but Rose kept having to heal him, as each one lowered him by half his health points. The creature's claws and serrated metal covered wings were cutting through his plate like a hot knife through butter. "Where the fuck is Drake!?" She shouted.


"He'll be here!" Garret roared. "Keep your Magic replenished, and focus! We can do this!" Despite his words, Garret knew they were, at most, keeping the Raiju at bay so far. The damage they were dealing was negligible, and Lyria's spells seemed to be resisted. They had limited magic potions, too. This stalemate they'd managed to force with their tactics so far could not last. Garret activated his damage mitigating buffs specific to his class as Rose chugged one potion, and his body surged with white energy as Lyria cast Enlarge on him. With a feral grin, the dark maned knight empowered by powerful defensive skills rose to the Raiju's eye level, and with a pair of roars that shook the forest, the two leonine figures clashed.






For his part, Drake had been about to jump in, it had just taken a minute to attune to his new clothes. Once he did, he launched into the sky, and got some height. Reaching level twenty five had come with some new skills, though he hadn't had a chance to try them out yet. His Step of the Wind got him into place instantly, and he saw Rose and Lyria notice him first. From under his hood, he had a cocky smirk. Quivering Palm, a technique that might well save them here with the sheer amount of damage it did, needed an opening, which meant he needed to make one. Thankfully, he had something that could, probably, do that too, since it wasn't technically a magic based attack. They needed damage this thing wouldn't resist.


That was where his new Ki Blast came in. That one, he had tried on the road, and though he hadn't told the others, he felt he could make them bigger. Much bigger. At the price of more magic power, of course. Despite not being a magical attack, using Ki still burned his magic energy pretty significantly.

"Dovah Alok!" His Shout cracked through the air, and as promised, seemed to function like the Kaio Ken from Dragonball Z, in that it greatly enhanced his attack power, briefly, for a heavy price on his body. Wasting no time, he lowered his hands by his sides, and created a new move as he summoned his Ki Blast, and forced it to grow. Purely for fun, he started shouting, "Kaaaa…meeeeh…"


He smirked, as he heard Laurelin in his head. "Oh wow, you're actually trying it mid-combat!?"


"Haaaa…! Meeeeeeh!" The Raiju, sensing the growing source of Ki, turned its foul eyes to Drake, but Garret was there, smashing its muzzle with his giant shield, and forcing its focus on him as he continued brutally bashing its feline face. Lightning arced around the creature in a deadly display and shot towards Garret, but the Lightning Elemental tanked it. It could do that, at most, one more time. Drake didn't wait, they needed to damage this thing as fast as possible, before Rose ran out of magic. "HAAAAAAAAAA!" Using his magic and his manipulation of his bodily Ki that had come with leveling up, Drake imposed his will on the empowered Ki Blast, making it take the iconic beam shape he desired.






The area turned bright white from the light it gave off, as it shot down towards the Raiju, hammering it right between the wing joints, and slamming it into the ground. A significant portion of its health was removed, but the creature was nowhere near done yet. It still, unfortunately, had over half its health points, while Drake felt his considerable magic pool rapidly depleting. As soon as his Kamehameha Wave struck, Drake shot downward, readying his Quivering Palm, as Garret further pinned the creature by stabbing his sword through its right paw. Rose and Lyria hammered it with spells, and Drake felt a buff empower him, specifically his health again, as he landed on the creature, and disrupted its natural bodily Ki with his glowing red palm.


Drake grinned, as he sensed the Raiju, considerable constitution though it had, fail to resist the technique (It rolled a 5). Drake kept brutally pounding its wing joint with his glowing crimson fists, as his Quivering Palm worked slightly different from the table top version. He needed to strike his target repeatedly to make the internal waves of force damaging its organs take effect. Empowered as he was by his Shout, this was not hard to do, and the party watched, in awe and disbelief, as his punches started making the Raiju's body rupture. It spat up foul black blood, thoroughly unable to rise as the sheer force of Drake's punches kept hammering it back to the ground, and continued to rupture its internal organs. "Get back!" He shouted at Garret, and the knight swiftly turned, abandoning his sword, scooped up Lyria, and then leapt back towards Rose.


Without the tank to draw aggro, the suffering beast turned its wrath on Drake. Another surge of lightning struck at him, and though Lyria's elemental tanked it, the attack still hit him. But Drake refused to so much as falter as he felt the foul energy burning him. "Just die already you sparking asshole!" He shouted at it, his blows coming faster and faster, even as he felt his power waning. Sensing his strikes weakening, the Raiju countered, and countered hard. Drake's eyes bulged as the brutal backpaw sent him soaring into a sturdy tree trunk, and he hit it hard enough to cough up blood. That was bad, but his own stats said he wasn't done yet.






"DRAKE!" He heard Rose scream, and he grinned at the Raiju as it slowly stalked towards him, the vibrations from his punches still very much tearing up its insides. He felt a timely surge of healing fill him, and he was no longer at death's door, as his health points surged to full.


Drake stood up straight, his hood now lowered after getting struck, and wiped some blood from his mouth. He raised the palm that had started the internal organ barrage, still glowing crimson from the effects of his shout. "Nice try, fucker…but you're already dead." At about just under half of its total health, he knew his Quivering Palm could end the Raiju now, with how many strikes had strengthened it. He clenched his open palm into a fist, and all at once, his internal Ki strikes ruptured the creature's heart. Its red eyes bulged, and its natural lightning radiated outward as it died, a final fiery fuck you to anyone in its vicinity, namely Drake. Drake raised a quick earth barrier, but the explosion still knocked him back into the tree again, thanks to how concussive force worked, and his vision went black.


When he came to consciousness again, he was…oddly comfortable? Like he was on the world's softest pillow. Then, he grimaced, as he felt something wet hit his face. He tried raising an arm to wipe whatever it was away, and then groaned. Massive amounts of pain filled his body, and his eyes shot open. He didn't even have time to register he'd been in Rose's lap, his head just mere inches from Paradise, as his body punished him for using the Shout. His ears were ringing, and he coughed up more blood, but then another surge of warmth and healing filled him, and he punched the ground, forcing himself to focus.






Gradually, the pain lessened, but he had a lingering soreness all over. Finally, his ears started working again. "...think he can hear us." He heard Garret rumble. "Drake…say something, my friend."


"I'm…I'm alright…" He managed with a raspy voice. "That…that new Boon is a bitch…" He muttered, feeling markedly better, as he realized Rose was rubbing his back.


Laurelin's concerned voice entered his mind again. "That's because you didn't set a limit, you fool! You activated the Shout to its highest degree, and while that probably helped you defeat such a powerful foe, the backlash nearly killed you! If Rose hadn't recklessly spent so many Heals on you, that final blast would've ended you."


"My…bad…" He groaned, shifting to a sitting position. He finally looked at Rose, and it was guilt that hurt him this time. Her composed self was gone, nose runny, puffy red eyes, and yet there was relief there. Using the robe sleeve of his new armor, he gently wiped her face, and smirked at her as he subtly cleaned the sleeve on the grass around them. "The Goddess just confirmed it for me…I'd be dead right now without you, Rose Valcrest. My life is yours." And having died once before, Drake knew his words were sincere, and accurate.






Her face turned a deep crimson then. "Wha- I don't- I just-"


"I do…need to rest a minute though…guys…check on the…things…" He fell back into the elf's lap, and was out again. This time though, there wasn't lingering pain. Just comfortable bliss. He was vaguely aware of his teammates talking, but he had to focus. Another feature he'd gained with leveling up, was a kind of Healing Trance, and while he'd need a solid four hours eventually, for now, he needed his muscles strong enough to help him walk. A few minutes would get him there.


He sensed Garret and Lyria move rapidly away from them, belatedly realizing the sorceress probably knew Fly by now, and felt relief. They'd check the Alicorn herd, make sure everything was good, and by the time they returned, he'd probably be ready. He felt Rose stroking his head, and let a small smile form on his face. He could've stayed like that for hours, but eventually, he sensed the others returning, and woke up.






"You're awake." Rose said, her cheeks still flushed for some reason, despite there having been plenty of time for them to cool off.


"I am." Drake replied, smiling at her. Her composure had returned, at least. "Thank you, for tolerating that…it umm…helped speed up my Healing Trance. I'm good enough to walk now, probably." He said, slowly rising to his feet, unsteady for but a moment before he found his balance.


"The mighty Monk rises!" Garret roared, clearly enjoying being able to fly. He landed, and clapped Drake's shoulder. "Your skills are seriously cool. What even was that energy beam?"


"I want to know, too." Lyria stated. "It didn't feel magical, and the Raiju didn't resist it."


"I basically supercharged a Ki Blast, and after I mishandled my newest Boon, it uhh, got exponentially stronger, though you saw the blowback. I know how better to wield it now, though. I don't think I'll be going that hard again…that hurt, man."






Garret smirked at him, a sly look on his leonine face. "I'm sure another healing session on Rose's lap pillow would fix you up just fine." Lyria snickered.


Drake coughed into his fist. "The lap pillow is for emergencies only…probably." He said, eyes closed, though he subtly peaked at Rose. Her face was red again. More seriously, he said, "I was dying, guys. And I'm pretty sure her Healing Aura helped my own healing skill work faster."


Lyria and Garret shared a look. "Uh huh." The sorceress said, smirking.


Drake looked at Rose again, smiling genuinely. "I meant what I said before, though. You saved me, Rose. Anything you ever need from me, just say the word."






Lyria sighed loudly, before Rose could answer. "We get it, you're into each other. Anyway, the Alicorns were over halfway to the northern continent when we last saw them. None of them died, and it's just about noon. We need to get back, report in, get our rewards, and get back in time for homeroom."


"Oh Gods…" Drake groaned, "I forgot we still had classes…"


"We should check our Statuses too." Rose finally said, managing words in her usual calm tone, though she seemed quite happy, judging by the small smile on her mouth. "That monstrosity is sure to have leveled us up."


They stepped apart then, checking their stats individually, and as Drake saw his new level, a mind boggling fifty five, he heard three simultaneous gasps of "Holy shit!" from behind him. Turning, he looked at his party. "You guys alright?"






Coming closer, Garret said, "We hit fifty five! That's over the level fifty mark!"


Drake raised a brow. "Level fifty mark?"


Rose chimed in, just looking impressed. "Once someone hits level fifty, levels get a lot harder to gain. And what's more…by my math, all of my stats increased by one for each level I got. That's…hold on, why do I have Ally of the Gods too?"


"I noticed that as well." Garret rumbled.


"Same." Lyria said.


They all looked towards Drake, who shrugged. "I guess…it applies to my allies too? The allies of my Godly allies are my…allies?" That made them chuckle. "I also reached fifty five. Looks like I finally caught up to you guys." He grinned, though it was mostly at Rose. Her beauty was like a magnet for his eyes.






"Either way," Lyria said, interrupting before they got lost in each other's gaze again, "We're at the right level to be Adamantine Rank Adventurers. The rest of the class is going to lose their shit over this."


"Right." Rose said, still smiling. "Let's get back. I don't want such a great outing spoiled with tardiness!"


They stepped closer to Lyria then, and with a flash of magic, they were gone.

Primus Adventurer's Guild - Primus City​

"Wow…that burned a lot less magic than usual…" Lyria muttered, as they appeared with a bamf in the foyer of the Guild.


"Probably your new level." Drake said, grinning. "Praise the Gods, for they are generous."


All three of his party mates nodded in agreement. Rose seemed to literally thank Laurelin, quietly praying. They approached the Guild Clerk's counter, while Rose had a moment with her Deity, and the elf, Kelista if Drake recalled correctly, stared at them with an open mouth, looking between them, probably at their levels. "You're all level fifty five!?"


Once again, the entire lower floor went silent, as the gathered adventurers, some of whom had seen their shenanigans earlier in the day, stared at them, their own eyes confirming what Kelista shouted.






Not one to miss an opportunity, Drake said, loudly, "Guild Master Solus's Quest was pretty intense…Runic class, easily. We faced something called a…Raiju. Level seventy five, massive, armored, the kind of thing that feasts on Alicorn blood." He paused for dramatic effect. "But between our top tier Party tactics, and some Monk badassery on my part, we managed to kill that fucker! Garret! Give the lady our proof."


The massive leonid, whose armor was practically falling apart at this point, placed two massive black horns he'd hewn from the dead beast on the Guild Clerk counter. Kelista cast Identify, and just stared in disbelief. "You…you're not lying…this thing was an Epic tier Monstrosity, and you managed to kill it!? At level twenty five!?"


Drake chuckled loudly and confidently. "I laid down some high tier Monk moves on its ass! And now its ass is grass! Of course without my tank, our potent heals, and some timely debuffs and tanking from our Sorceress's elemental, we'd all be crispy fried right now, but we did it." He grinned at the elf. "And now we'd like our reward. Please. Every Alicorn survived."






"I'll need to check with the Guild Master…" Kelista started.


"No need." Came a thunderous baritone that echoed through the room. The scarred handsome visage poking out above the titanic gold plated form of Guild Master Solus stepped down the stairs, walked nonchalantly through the tavern portion of the floor, and up to the victorious party. "Our branch in the north has confirmed the Alicorn herd arrived safely, if a bit spooked. Well done!" He thundered. "From this moment on, you shall be Adamantine Ranked Adventurers, and have access to the Quests available at that level! I don't think a group of First Year students has ever gotten to that rank… Furthermore…I believe I promised one class-appropriate Tier Two piece of armor for each of you…though…Garret, was it? I'll give you two. To replace that armor that's clearly beyond repairing. I can tell you fought hard, to keep the abomination in place."


There was unhappy grumbling from the modestly filled tavern, and from what Drake could tell, the regular adventurers were not thrilled that a bunch of Arc Warden newbs were now Adamantine rank, having jumped straight past bronze, iron, and even mithril.






Solus looked over the party then, and though it was subtle, he could tell they'd had quite the morning adventure. His eyes settled on Drake, then. "I see you found some proper Monk attire out there…not bad at all. Good thing I got you a weapon instead of armor!"


"Oh, I don't really use-" Drake started, but then his eyes widened as Solus produced a pair of awesome, gleaming light blue metal gauntlets. "Fist Weapons do actually have a niche in our society, and I think these will serve you well. The Fists of Far Reach enhance your attack power, your magical control, and can turn your punches into ranged attacks." Drake thanked him, in awe as he slid the light blue metal gauntlets onto his hands. They shrank to fit his size. Large blue arcane gems surrounded by a circle of tiny engravings were on the back of each hand of the gauntlet's presumably powering their useful magic.


"For your dedicated High Elven Sage, a set of vestments, once worn by the first healers to learn from Goddess Laurelin herself. They will greatly increase your available magic power, and reduce the cost of all healing spells. Wear them with pride, for you are worthy of them after keeping your Party alive against such a powerful enemy." Rose was similarly in awe, and scurried away to a changing room for adventurers to put them on immediately.


To Garret, Solus said, "Your armor will be sent to you on the morrow, but for now…I give you my old Shieldblade. I can attest to its powerful defensive magics. It should serve you well in Dungeons, until you loot something with better stats." He moved on to Lyria then, who was clearly the most eager to try her new gear. "And to the skilled Sorceress, without whom your party would have taken much longer to arrive and return from your Quest, I give the Stave of Stored Spells. It can hold any spell, of any level you can currently cast. The higher the spell's rank though, the less room it will have. May it save your party, when your magic is drained and your backs are against the wall."






With the items handed out, alongside their reward of eighty thousand Gil per party member, Solus departed, leaving the teens to marvel at their new stuff. Garret was still shocked he was wielding a blade that the Guild Master of Solus had once used, from the sound of it, on quite a few adventures, before taking up his current apparently iconic greatsword. So iconic, they'd literally named it after its wielder.


From Drake's perspective, the rest of the day was a blur. One second he was complimenting how gorgeous Rose looked in the rather revealing, for healing robes, white and gold clothing that now fit well with her similarly colored staff. It also had a hood on it. Being thoroughly drained, Drake managed to recount for his classmates what their morning had been like, much to their chagrin, and despite his best efforts, and how interesting Aslan's lessons were, he could barely pay attention.


They did get their new arrival, though. A burly bear man by the name of Bjorn Bjornson, who demanded, not asked, that everyone just call him Ironside. He was a Berserker, and being a bearkin, that meant he was extremely durable, and hit things so hard it healed his own damage. Such Berserker tanks were rare, but renowned for how absurdly good their recovery skills were, to the point that, apparently, healers in their parties could just focus on damage and not even need to worry about their health points.


As soon as classes were over, Drake tiredly returned to his dorm, and was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. He belatedly activated his Healing Trance, but rest was very much required. He hoped the rest of his days weren't this exhausting, or his school work would surely suffer.

---

Our protag's current stats, for those wondering.

 

[Sahqoreyth]

Chapter 4: The Only Cure for Goblins, is Death

Be aware, there are some...intense and gory parts in the Zemkarth part of the chapter. If you've seen Goblin Slayer, you already have an idea. Nothing too graphic is described in detail, but this is your trigger warning.

Shit gets intense.

Also, due to popular demand, I've split chapter 4 into shorter chapters. The story is identical, it's just in smaller parts now.

Enjoy.​

---

When Drake Long, the isekai'd American Dragon Monk, returned to consciousness, only four hours had passed. His stomach growled, and after glancing at the magic clock in their dorm room, he realized it was dinner time. He continued his streak of avoiding the dining hall in the evening hours, as that many people in one place made him twitchy. The food vendors around the entrance of the campus were just as good, provided portable portions, and had much shorter lines.


He grabbed a pair of what looked like burritos to his eyes, and wandered towards the combat field behind the main campus building. A few people apparently had the same idea he did, and were having dinner in the stands, but after a quick scan, he realized they were couples, and moved on. He wandered aimlessly, letting the universe guide him until he found a grassy, secluded spot under a large tree, and chose there to eat. In under two minutes the rather yummy burritos were in his stomach, and he was looking at his status.


Seeing nothing had changed after sleeping, he closed his eyes then, and started meditating, reaching a state of inner calm before he attempted to bend the air again. Spreading magic into it like he had with other elements simply hadn't worked, so instead he made his sphere of influence wider, and lessened the amount of magic to a trickle to compensate.






Drake found himself getting rather focused as he meditated, more so than he ever had back on Earth. He marveled at the magic flowing through him, and with some minor alterations, made it flow into the air more effectively. He was so focused, that it took Rose shouting his name three times, before he finally noticed, and opened his eyes. They widened, in surprise. The entire field around his chosen tree was wildly waving in a strong, constant breeze. The wind calmed immediately, but he felt he could control it now, within his magic's range and influence at least. He also realized he'd been floating, which wasn't an ability his academy uniform possessed.


His efforts had attracted a small crowd, most of which was the rest of his class. Rose had that impressed look on her face, but as she gracefully started walking towards him, Tala hopped ahead, and skidded to a stop in front of him, jiggling all the way. "Drake! I heard you could fly, but only in your special robe!"


"Yeeaa, well, I think I've more or less figured out Airbe- err, Air Magic." He chuckled, then glanced at Rose as she joined them at her own pace, hiding her irritation with the bunny girl rather well.


"That makes all four basic elements now, right?" Rose gave him a sweet smile. "You're going to be even stronger once you master them all."


Drake scratched the back of his head. "I wouldn't say I'm anywhere near mastery with the four I have."






Both girls put an arm on a different shoulder of Drake's then and said, simultaneously, "You'll get there." By this point, the rest of the class had approached, and most of them shared a look, as the two blondes glared at each other again.


"Ohhh, damn. Here we go, fam." Nyara muttered in the background, as several of their classmates nodded eagerly.


Then, in a tone that sent a premonitory chill up Drake's spine, Rose said, far too calmly, "You know, Drake, I think it would help all of us if you made it clear which one of us you prefer…romantically."


Behind them, Leif had a surprised look on his foxy face as he muttered, "Oh shit, she's just going for it."


Drake gave Rose a sad smile, and he knew, deep down, the time for the truth had come. She looked worried with this response. "Well Rose, the thing is-"


Tala unhelpfully cut him off. "He prefers girls that aren't going to be small the rest of their life, right Drake?" She said, putting her arms behind her head as what she had was bared for the world to admire. She was out of her uniform now, and her chosen outfit of a low cut but simple top with straps and her school skirt hid absolutely nothing of her top tier curves.


"Boobs over brains. Wins every damn time." Zara muttered, irritably.


Drake gulped, trying not to stare, but the bun's cleavage had to have been magnetic. Or something. Finally, he wrenched his eyes away. "That's not what I-"


"Drake said he owed me his life." Rose said calmly, her words like a rapier. Tala looked back at him with big, sad, brown eyes full of disbelief and hurt.


"Can confirm, he did say that." Garret rumbled from the crowd. It was clear the lion man was cheering for what he considered the One True Pairing.






"Girls!" Drake finally raised his voice. "Please let me finish. There's something you should both know about me…especially before we start getting into romantic entanglements…"


"Finally…the backstory reveal!" Vincent said, leaning forward and pushing his glasses up.


Drake sighed, audibly, at their peanut gallery. "Y'know what? Fine. You should all know this, if we're going to be raiding Dungeons together. Can't really ask all of you to trust me, if you don't know me. I'll ask you to keep it quiet, but I know how loud some of your mouths are." He glared specifically at Nyara.


"He's got you pegged there, Cat." Lyria taunted her.


"Lyria." Drake said, gesturing the rest of the class closer. "If you and Zara wouldn't mind giving us a sound barrier…that'd be much appreciated." The two spellcasters shared a look, and then nodded. One by one, they sat in a circle beneath the tree, as the leylines in the sky began to shift towards dusk. "Some rules, before we begin. No interruptions. I solemnly swear that everything I'm about to say is the God's honest truth, but Rose, feel free to drop a Zone of Truth if you doubt me."






She hesitated for a moment, and then began casting. "I trust you, Drake, I just…I need to know for sure."


"I understand." He said, smiling at her. "I won't hold wanting the absolute truth against you. In fact, I'd be kinda disappointed if you didn't." She gave him a shy smile, and started casting. The holy magic formed a circle around their sitting circle, just inside the sound-containing barrier. "If you'd confirm for our allies that I'm not resisting…"


Rose nodded at them. "He is under the Zone's effects. Go ahead, Drake."


Drake took several deep breaths, and then began, lowering his voice towards what it had once been, in his past life. A rather deep and not unpleasant baritone. "I come from a planet known as Earth, the third planet in what my people, Earthlings, called the Solar System, within what we called the Milky Way Galaxy." The entire class had wide eyes, as the Zone of Truth did not activate. "When I lived there, it was in a city not entirely unlike Primus. One of, if not the largest on the Earth. New York City. My world, and my Universe, apparently, completely lacked magic, according to Goddess Laurelin, so naturally, we had a lot of problems that we could only solve by using our technology, powered not by magic, but by electricity. I worked at a shelter for animals, dogs, cats, nothing too unique or different from what you have as house pets here, who had been mistreated or abandoned by their owners…"






He had them effectively spellbound, as he recounted his life, his true age, his nerdy preferences, his crippling injury, the corrupt Garbage that had been elevated by those with currency to rule his decaying nation, and then, of course, the last walk he and Falkor had ever gone on.


"I heard the horn, and I knew I had to act…nobody else was close enough to reach them. I ran to Falkor and the kiddo, and then tried to leap out of the way…but at that moment, my ankle decided to break again." Rose gasped, and Tala had tears forming in her eyes. The rest of the class was quiet, and somber. They knew what came next. "I tossed Falkor and the child onto the curb, but in doing so, fell back on my fat ass... The last thing I saw was Falkor running towards me, and…then I met the Goddess herself. I…don't think it's yet time to tell you all the mission that she tasked me with, but I give you my word, some day, I will. If you end up following me to the conclusion of this journey of mine, you will know our ultimate goal well before we reach it, and I will not hold it against you if you decide to back out. It's...a lot. Even for someone with Divine aid."


He took another breath, and sighed lightly. "Anyways. Laurelin gave me three Boons to achieve this task of hers. I chose an absurdly durable body that would not easily break again, a significant boost to my Intelligence stat, so I could keep and retain the knowledge of my old life, and the knowledge of the Dragon Style of Martial Arts, and my final Boon I used on Falkor, once I realized he'd purposefully chosen to go out alongside me. He was named after a Dragon from a movie in my world you see…so I had Laurelin make for him a new, proper draconic body. I expect he'll be visiting me soon enough, so you'll all probably be able to see him when he does. And from there…you all basically know the rest. It's been about three days, maybe four since I was on Earth." He smiled at them, then. "But I like it here. The people, the magic, if I'm being honest, Arcadia is leagues better than that shithole I left behind."


Rose spoke quietly, then, "But your family…"


Drake nodded, sadly. "Thinks I'm dead. And…in a very real sense, I am. I am not who I once was. Even my personality has…shifted. I was never this social or talkative or strong on Earth. I was essentially an outcast, and content with my status as one, but…Laurelin selected me to be something greater, and I'm not going to pass up the chance. That's my story. You ladies can release your spells, now."






They did so. Drake stood, as did everyone else, and it was Vincent who spoke first, stepping forward, and placing a hand on his shoulder. "You're a Hero, Drake Long. A proper Chosen One, with the morals to match. I'd be honored to fight beside you, no matter what quest the Goddess has given to you."


"With my power, and your tactics Vincent, I'm sure we could clear multiple Dungeons." Drake answered. "I'll see you back in the room. I'm sure you have questions." The bespectacled genius of their class nodded in confirmation, and headed away from the tree.


Garret was next. "We make a solid team, Drake Long. I am honored to know you better, and to continue to call you friend. Rest easy knowing nothing you told us has lowered my opinion of your character."


Drake chuckled, as they bumped fists. "I couldn't ask for a better tank, Garret. I'm glad we're friends too." The leonid gave Rose and Tala a meaningful look, before he walked off.


Lyria was next. "This explains your weird class that no ones ever heard of, and your sometimes incorrect Beast Lore. But I like it. I'm sure whatever mission the Goddess gave you is worth pursuing. Count me as an ally, Drake." Drake thanked her, and she left as well.






One by one, the others came.


"Sssorry I doubted your sssskillsss." Sethis hissed. Drake forgave him, and the large lizardkin departed, rightly sensing Tala and Rose had words for him.


"That's quite a story, Drake…I wouldn't believe a word of it if I didn't trust Rose's magic." Leif said, before just sauntering off immediately after speaking. Drake heard him mutter under his breath as he left, "...n't believe…Goddess…him of all fu…people."


Next, was Zara. "If the Goddess Laurelin vouches for you, that's good enough for me. Just don't drag our class down, newbie. I don't care how high your level is; you're no warrior. We'll see how that 'courage' holds up inside a Dungeon."


"Appreciate the vote of confidence, Zara…" Drake muttered, as she left too.


His other roomie, Caelum Triton, stepped forward then, a smirk on his handsome merman face. "I knew you were special, but a bonafide Hero from another world? I have sooo many questions. But we can get into that later, in the room."


Drake chuckled. "I'll answer as many as you like, you're a gentleman and a scholar, Caelum." With a mutual nod, the crimson scaled merman followed after Vincent.


Last to linger, besides the girls, was Nyara. "I'll keep my mouth shut about this one, Monk boy. Not like anyone would believe me anyway."


"Thanks…?" Drake replied, but the swift cat girl was already gone.






Then, finally, Drake, Rose, and Tala were alone. He chuckled awkwardly. "Soo…I hope you understand now why I was uhh…hesitant to…start anything romantic. You both deserved to know the truth about who I am before anyone got…too attached."


Rose crossed her arms, her gorgeous emerald eyes searching his face for a long moment, as if weighing something in her mind, before she spoke. "I can't say I expected that story, but…I appreciate your honesty, Drake. You didn't have to tell us all of that, but you did." Her expression softened slightly. "And for what it's worth, it doesn't change anything for me." Drake was stunned by her tacit admission, and in hindsight, he'd probably pick that moment as the one where he properly fell for her.


Tala, arms still behind her head, gave him a grin, though her ears twitched slightly as she caught the look in his eyes. "Yeah, you think a little thing like 'I was reborn from another world' is gonna scare me off? Please."


"But…I was nearly twice your ages…" Drake started.


Tala chuckled. "I like older guys…" She purposefully jiggled again, and Drake avoided his teenage gaze getting caught in that chasm of soft warm pillowy paradise again. "What's wrong? Don't even pretend you don't like these…"


"Thirty years is almost nothing, to Elves." Rose cut in sharply, snaring his eyes with hers again. "Besides, I know what my heart is saying, and I'm not going to deny it. I still want to know who you prefer. That hasn't changed, either."






Drake looked between them both, and then sighed softly. "Sorry Tala…you're gorgeous, I mean it, but Rose…there's just something about her that…feels right. On every level." The High Elf flushed again, but she didn't avoid his eyes.


Tala deflated, and lowered her arms as she saw them having a moment. Crossing them under her absurd bust, she said, "Yeeaa…I had a feeling. As soon as she offered to be your healer first yesterday, I knew my chances were slim. Ahh well. I guess I'll see if Bjorn wants a bushel of bunny babies. Or maybe Caelum."


Drake blinked. Twice. "W-wait, you're going to…?"


Tala winked at him. "Lapines don't waste time when it comes to having kids. We start as soon as we're able, especially those of us with Arc Warden potential." She smirked at his stunned expression. "You probably didn't know that, huh? I was sure our babies would've been beautiful and strong…but alas, it seems the Elf beat me to it. Guess that's that! Enjoy your preachy tree hugger, Drake. If you ever change your mind…well, you know where to find meeee!" As the bunny girl bounded away, Drake exhaled slowly, feeling more certain in his choice. He knew himself well enough to recognize that creating a literal army of powerful bunny children with a woman that fine would result in a problem he was not prepared to handle.


Although, the more he thought about it, the more he was sure the rest of lapine society raised the young communally. Tala wouldn't have had time to study, otherwise, and judging by those matronly curves she rocked, she'd probably already had a few offspring. Not that it seemed to bother her, and really, why would it? Different cultures had different expectations. The hangup was his, not hers. He also wondered if they even chose one mate for life. Probably not. He didn't hold it against their species, but it was enough to be a deal breaker in terms of a relationship.






He blinked, as he felt Rose's hand slide into his. Her ears were red now too, as she murmured, "Elves…don't reproduce nearly as often as Lapines…but…my family will also want heirs, at some point…probably quite a few of them."


He felt his cheeks light on fire at the implication. "Uh-uhm, err, well, as uhh, as soon as you're ready for that, we can, uhh, discuss it."


"I've had enough words for today…" She murmured, and then she stood on her tiptoes, and kissed him.

Drake blinked, his mind going utterly blank, as he blinked twice more, and then let his instincts take over. His arms wrapped around her, and he let himself enjoy the moment without any guilt. His actions, making sure she knew what she was doing, with whom, also felt right, to him. When they finally broke for air, the night had arrived, and his new gorgeous elf girlfriend bid him goodnight, walking off looking quite pleased, as she subtly touched her lips.


For Drake's part, there was no comparison. No woman on Earth had ever given him a kiss like that, and now, he understood the difference. And, begrudgingly, admitted Laurelin had been right. He had functional knowledge, which would be used to Rose's benefit, but actual experience…left him very much feeling like a teenager. His body still felt like it was on fire, as his heart raced in his chest. All that, from just one kiss. He hoped Rose had felt similarly smitten afterwards. He inhaled a long breath, and then exhaled literal fire, as he expelled the heat from his body, cooling himself down rapidly with his firebending.






Upon returning to the dorm's fourth floor, and its twentieth room, Caelum and Vincent greeted him with knowing smirks. "Sooo? How'd it go, extraplanar lover-boy?" Caelum teased from his bed.


Drake felt his cheeks heat up again, but the smile was on his face before he could even try to hide it. "Rose Valcrest…is my girlfriend." He shook his head, still not quite believing it. The finest elf in the entire Academy, and she was into him. Enough to make the first move. He smirked at Caelum then, regaining his composure. "Oh, and Tala may have her sights set on you, now."


Caelum's eyes went wide. "Really? Interesting…but not surprising. I take it you realized what Lapine culture is like?"


Drake nodded. "Yea…I mean…I get the appeal but uhh…it's a bit too casual for me, y'know? I prefer one woman. Most Earthlings do."


Vincent chimed in, at that point, looking up from his book. "Interesting. It seems Earth cultures had more of a developed predisposition towards monogamous coupling. Could you tell me what drove this development, Drake?"






Drake chuckled. "Uhh…well, most of the, erm, more technologically advanced part of the planet was essentially taken over and ruled, more or less, by a…rather oppressive cult for a solid two thousand years. We had Kings and such, but they all paid homage, and gold, to the Church. In that time…the Church managed to properly fuck up any chance our society had for being as open and polygamous as Arcadia. Unions were between one man, and one woman, blessed and overseen by their God, that's literally what they used for his name, just God, and deviating from that norm, or breaking that covenant by marrying others or fornicating outside of those unions was seen as an affront to God. And the Church. But mostly the Church."


Vincent frowned. "And yet, despite this control, civilization advanced? There must have been some benefits to this system, even if unintended."


Drake shrugged. "For a long time, the survival strat for anyone without wealth was 'have as many babies as possible, and hope they don't all die during the Winter'. And that worked. But society's actual progress was more due to the geniuses our population produced, than any byproduct of monogamous coupling. Sure, stability from two parents, one male one female, helped raise offspring, but that system was extremely prejudiced against same sex pairings, which are entirely capable of also raising offspring to maturity. Anyone that didn't fit into the cult's mold was ostracized, and vilified, in the name of their God."


Vincent squinted at Drake. "But…you said your Universe of origin had no magic. So from whence did this God come?"


"People's imaginations." Drake said, hopping on his bed.


Vincent squinted further. "So…no magic whatsoever…and yet many Humans worshiped it?"


"Yea…Earth is…pretty terrible. People needed something to believe in. Fear, mostly, of the consequences of bad behavior, murder, adultery, etcetera. It didn't always work, but for many, it managed to keep their behavior in check…more or less. Naturally, the leaders of the Church had no such fear. The people selling this lie very obviously knew it was nonsense. And to be clear, the cult I'm speaking of was only the latest in a long line of cults, stretching back around about two hundred thousand years of recorded history. We had many Gods and Pantheons of Gods, but when I left, most of the old Gods were used in our cultural media as imagined characters, and mostly for their epic names."






"And did you believe in this 'God', Drake?" Caelum asked.


Drake shook his head. "I was indoctrinated into the cult as a child, but I figured out it was nonsense eventually. Science was much more interesting, and it had a pretty solid method."


Vincent leaned forward now, interest piqued. "What is this…Science? Another cult?"


"Uhh…I mean, there were a few eccentrics that definitely treated it like one, but no, mostly it was a method of examining the basic truths of our magicless reality, and demonstrating whether they were accurate, or not. It wasn't perfect, but for a species as dumb, violent, and horny as the majority of Earthlings…it worked. The only actual God on Earth, was Currency. When I left, money was the only thing being genuinely, universally worshiped. If you had enough of it, you could literally buy your way into power, no matter how undeserving you were, or what heinous crimes you'd committed."


Vincent made a 'hmm' noise. "I can see why you're glad to be free from such a place…but this…Science, and electricity-based technology intrigues me."


Drake smiled at his roomie. "I can try to pass on what I know, some time, if you want. I'll have to write it down, though. There's…a lot. But I believe much of it can be used here on Arcadia as well…we just uhh, have to be careful what we introduce to your world. Goddess Laurelin was…not impressed with the weapons the Earth had, mostly because Earthlings used them with depressing frequency on their own species."






Caelum blinked in disbelief. "Wait…the Humans on your world actively killed each other? Without being corrupted by some darker force?"


Drake nodded. "You…have no idea, my friend. When I died, there were at least three global superpowers committing active acts of systematic and entirely needless slaughter of their fellow Humans. Even on kids. My own country was no exception, either."


Caelum let out a low whistle. "That… sounds bleak."


Vincent exhaled, shaking his head. "Perhaps a lesson in what happens when power is left unchecked, with no higher authority to guide it." He glanced at Drake. "I'll take you up on your offer. I want to see if this 'Science' of yours can be applied in Arcadia… responsibly."


Drake nodded at Vincent. "So long as we stay responsible…it shouldn't be an issue. I'm sure the Gods will tell us if we start to unleash something that will destabilize your society."


Caelum leaned back, deep in thought. "The idea of a world without divine intervention… it sounds fragile."


Drake nodded. That was one word for it. "You should all really thank them for what they've done with Arcadia…as someone from a world without any God managing it, the contrast keeps highlighting just how bad things are on Earth."






With that, the conversation changed to the lateness of the hour, and the three teens decided to turn in. Another day at the Academy awaited them.


The next morning, Drake immediately noticed a change. Vincent and Caelum were glad to see him, and Vincent's prickliness had faded considerably after hearing Drake's origin story. They were becoming fast friends, and Drake spent a solid half hour explaining, as best he knew, how electronic devices functioned. Having increased intelligence made this much easier than it would've been just a few days earlier, and Vincent seemed eager to try it out. When he learned that there were electrical currents even in some foods, like popotoes (essentially just potatoes) he'd immediately sprinted to the school's kitchens to acquire one.


This left Caelum and Drake to head to the Guild on their own. They found Rose and Lyria idling by the clerk's counter, chatting with Kelista. Rose had her new healing robes on, and Drake shamelessly checked her out. She must have felt his gaze, because she turned, saw him staring, and then shifted her shoulders. The already low cut robes sank lower, revealing even more porcelain elf skin, and Drake gulped, before he forced himself to focus.






"Ladies." Drake said, acknowledging Lyria's existence, before his eyes were inevitably drawn back to Rose's. "Vincent is uhh, busy, today, so it's just Caelum and I."


Rose seemed practically glowing, as she smiled up at him. "Two healers is fine, since we don't have a tank. Garret and Sethis partied up today."


"Then we should do the same." Caelum said smoothly, smiling at Lyria. "If you'll have me."


Lyria looked at the happy couple, saw they were waiting on her approval, and then she nodded at the attractive, crimson scaled merman. "You're welcome to join us any time, Prince Caelum."






Drake blinked. "Wait. What? You're a Prince!?"


Caelum chuckled at him. "I keep forgetting you don't know much about our world. The Triton family has ruled in the undersea city of Thalassia since Merpeople and the Beastkin of the sea first appeared. We've been going to the Academy almost as long." The merman prince smirked at Rose then. "I'm surprised your new girlfriend didn't mention that. She's practically a Princess herself."


Drake blinked, and then stared at Rose, who was glaring at the merman. "I can believe that, actually. It makes sense. She has the beauty, the poise, the manner of speech, I was wondering if she was royalty or something, but Elves don't have Kings…right?"


Caelum chuckled knowingly. "They have those who might as well be such. But I'll leave her family history for the two of you to discuss. We should start on our Quests."






At that point, Kelista chimed in helpfully. "We do have a Mithril Rank Gathering Quest, if that interests you. You wouldn't need a tank necessarily, and your Sorceress can summon one if you get swarmed."


The party shared a look, and when no one spoke, Drake said, "What exactly would we be gathering? And what lives there?"


Kelista checked the quest's specifics. "Apparently…Mithril Ore, and enough Blackstone to smelt it into bars. That's about three pieces of Blackstone for every piece of Mithril. As for what lives nearby…Giant Scorpions, a reclusive Goblin Tribe, and a small settlement of Dark Elves who own and work the mine."


Lyria's eyes went wide. "W-what's this settlement called, exactly?"


Kelista scanned her info. "Ahhmmm…Zemkarth, I believe."


Lyria let out a soft sigh. "No way…but…why would the Dark Elves not mine this for the Guild themselves?"






Kelista scanned the info again, and then shrugged. "I couldn't say…but I did hear a rumor that the settlement is having a rough time." She had a sly smirk on her face, then. "Sounds like something a group of Adventurers might handle."


Drake cracked his knuckles, and grinned. It sounded like some giant fuckoff mine beast had interrupted production, and giant beasts were essentially experience pinatas to a party this damage heavy, assuming it wasn't absurdly high level. "Oh, we'll handle it. I do have a question, though…I've seen Mithril on the armor of some Adventurers, and I know our Adamantine tags are still being forged, but uhh…what is Blackstone? Is it as literal as the name suggests?"


The clerk nodded. "You'll know it when you see it. Blackstone is crucial in forging high level weapons and armors. It's also what powers the Dark Elven forges, since it burns so hot, once it's purified." Drake nodded. It was coal. He'd been pretty sure, but now, Kelista's description confirmed it. With the quest accepted, Drake and Caelum changed into their respective robes, and Lyria teleported them.






They didn't appear in a city-based magic circle though. They were barely even within the settlement around them. Dark purple magical lanterns gave Zemkarth an ominous glow, and as soon as they materialized before a small dwelling carved into the mountain rock. Lyria muttered, "I'll need a second, friends." Before she ran into the house before them, clearly worried despite her expression.


Putting two and two together, Drake said, "So…did either of you know she was from Zemkarth?"


Rose shook her head, and Caelum said, "She doesn't really talk much, our Lyria. Which is a shame, truly. She has a lovely voice…but remains mostly a mystery."


Drake smirked at his roomie, raising an eyebrow. "Ohh? Sounds like someone would like to investigate that mystery a little closer."


Caelum sighed. "I would, honestly, but…I'm not as lucky as you when it comes to romance, Drake. Being a Prince of Thalassia…scares off most people, no matter how attractive I make myself."






Drake blinked, and then tilted his head. "Is…is Thalassia okay? I can't imagine many things that would scare off Arc Warden tier suitors…"


Rose spoke up then leaning into him. A small smile appeared on her face, as she heard Drake's heartbeat triple in pace. "Ahh, right…Otherworlder. You see Drake, Thalassia is next to a particularly…powerful Dungeon. The Fathomless Rift. It was one of the first Dungeons to appear, and by the time the Thalassians found it…its Boss was quite powerful. It spews out so many monsters that the seas of our world are practically swarming with them. Thalassia itself had to seriously improve its defenses just to stay intact…so it's a bit like living in a war zone. The attack swarms come daily, and while its defenders are strong, the Riftspawn are nearly infinite, and the assaults are nerve-wracking. It's impossible to tell when one will manage to slip into the city by force, or by some previously unknown weak point."


Caelum nodded sagely. "An excellent summary, Rose." He looked at Drake, then. "It is the duty of every Triton King to one day assault the Fathomless Rift, and try to end its horrors…I've lost my father, four uncles, and three of my five brothers to it already…I'm the youngest, but my time will come as well, and once I have an heir, I'll be forced to go. So you see…anyone who would want to date me would have to ignore my very likely demise, and the demise of our child, should it be male, to be with me. It's…gotten to the point that certain Mermaids have to be selected, at random, to help the Triton family stay intact." Seeing his face, Caelum gave him and Rose a sad smile. "But it's fine, it's simply my fate, I've long since come to terms with it. And so long as my dear friends and classmates remember me, that's all I need."






Drake wiped the formation of tears from his eyes, and hardened his gaze at Caelum. "I consider you one of the first friends I made here, Caelum. I'm not just going to remember you. I refuse to just let you die. When the day comes, I will join you in the Rift, assuming I'm able to…and we will end this foul legacy together." He looked at Rose, and his bravado faded slightly, as he saw her expression. "Are you with me, Rose?"


"It's…more complicated than that, Drake…the Fathomless Rift is…a death sentence. You have yet to actually delve into a Dungeon. You don't know what they're like, what their Bosses are like…"


He smirked confidently at her. "I know with my Party by my side, the woman I adore included, nothing will stop us. And I think Caelum is worth fighting for. But to ease your mind…I won't attempt the Rift until we're ready, and have cleared two other Dungeons at least."






Caelum sighed, and gave Rose a sad, but knowing smile. "Would that it were it so easy. I know you mean well Drake, but…I would feel better if you and Rose lived, and had many happy centuries together. Maybe name one of your offspring in my honor. There's no need to die on my account."


Drake shook his head firmly. "I wouldn't be able to look at the child without feeling guilt. Look, I know I may be new to this world. I know I may have some naïveté when it comes to Dungeon delving, but I also know quite a lot about Dungeoneering. You saw my skills. I beat Vincent at planning our way through a frankly absurd Dungeon layout. With our class on your side, and other Adventurers besides, we can do this. We can free Thalassia."


Caelum sighed, and his body shuddered slightly. Drake's eyes widened as he saw the merman was tearing up. "Don't…give me hope. I already accepted my Fate…"


Drake was insistent, though. "Hope is what you need, my friend. Hope will be what sees us through that undersea Hellhole. Just…trust me. Two Dungeons…and then we save you from Fate itself." He offered the merman a hand.


Caelum wiped his eyes, and nodded, taking it, and shaking it firmly. "I don't know why…but I believe you." He smirked at Rose then. "I can see why you were drawn to him."


Rose had a big smile. "He certainly is…something." Her eyes hardened too, then. "We've been friends for a long time, Caelum. I don't want you to die, either. You deserve to be the King who lives. The first to rule Thalassia for the majority of his reign in peace, in thousands of years. When the time comes, I'll be right there beside Drake. I know Garret will, too."






At that moment, a slightly sweaty, haggard looking Lyria emerged, a frown on her fair features. Caelum spoke first. "What's wrong, Lyria?"


She looked down at the ground, hand gripping her staff so tightly even her dark skin was whitening. "It's…my family. My home. I'm sure you all figured out this is my house…only my grandmother was left inside, and she can barely move…apparently, the rest of Zemkarth is being snatched, one person at a time…by Goblins."


Caelum scoffed. "Goblins? I didn't think such weak creatures could bring mighty Dark Elven smiths so low…"


Lyria and Rose glared at him, but Drake spoke first, as his nerdy ass knew better, he raised a hand towards the girls, non-verbally asking them to hold off on berating the princeling. "You speak as though you've fought them, Caelum. Might I ask where?"


Caelum blinked, frowning slightly as he recognized he'd said something insensitive. "The Wallow. It's a low level Dungeon on the northern outskirts of Primus. Absolutely packed with Goblins. Low level Adventurers sharpen their swords there, usually until they hit Steel Rank. Bjorn, Leif, Zara, and I killed so many, we hit Mithril…we made it quite far down, too, until our supplies ran out. Time can also flow differently in Dungeons, sometimes. We were in there for a week, and were out before the afternoon."






Drake's eyes narrowed. "And the Goblins on the lower levels…let me guess, they got exponentially harder to fight, right? Started appearing in groups of twenty, thirty, or more?"


Caelum nodded in confirmation. "Higher level, supported by magic users, and enough numbers to rapidly drain our supplies."


Drake grit his teeth. "And another guess if I may…you didn't see a single one on the way out, did you. Not even corpses."


Caelum's eyes widened. "Is…this a Monk ability? It's like you were there…you're right. Our path towards the upper floors was unimpeded, though we ran into plenty on our way out. The upper floors always have squads of three to five roaming them."






Drake nodded, and sighed. "Fuck. They're using you. All of you. The Final Boss of that Dungeon…it's probably been doing this for ages. Even longer, since time flows faster in there. Fuck. This means…they're like the Goblins I'm familiar with…easy to pick off alone, but deviously clever. Especially once one of them ranks up to a higher tier of Goblin." His eyes shifted to Lyria. "I'd bet my robe that's what is happening here. In fact, I bet their leader is originally from the Wallow Dungeon. Are there any other Dungeons around Zemkarth?"


"Just the Infernal Cistern." Lyria said, grimacing. "They're the ones that…love our excrement. But they don't attack us, so long as they're not provoked."


"There's also Blackspire…" Rose said, shuddering slightly. "But the Monsters there are too powerful to bother with Goblins. Even among Monsters, Goblins are seen as lesser beings. They're not created from other sentient races getting corrupted, either. Dagorath engineered them himself, from pure darkness."


Drake nodded, and sighed heavily. "Of fucking course he did. Alright. If we're going to save your people, Lyria, we need to move. Now. This just became an Adamantine or Runic level Quest, and whatever is leading them is probably pretty high level…definitely over fifty." He glanced at Rose then, and murmured, "I read somewhere the level cap was two hundred. Is that accurate?"






Lyria led them, as they started heading towards where the goblins were known to reside. Rose murmured back to Drake, "Leveling over fifty usually takes an absurdly long time. Even if we killed another Raiju level monster, we'd get maybe four or five levels at most, with your Boon. I think two hundred is the highest people have been able to reach in their lifetimes…but anything strong enough to boost one past that lives near the South Pole…and those Monsters tend to be around level one hundred and fifty, with the abilities and skills to match."


Drake nodded, and then raised a hand. They were outside Zemkarth now, in a ravine through the mountain that was perfect for ambushes. "Hold up, guys…I want to try something." During his conversation with Vincent, he'd learned that apparently, Buffs worked by surging magic, either from the buffer or buff-ee, to the parts of their body that ended up enhanced.


Now more in tune with his bodily energy after unlocking airbending, Drake had a feeling he could take it further. "Draconic Perception…" He muttered, increasing the flow of power to his eyes, ears, and nose all at once as he channeled his namesake. Sure enough, the stench and light giggling of goblins filled his senses.


"Rose, Caelum, we need Buffs. Lyria, you're going to want an Earth Elemental. Like now. They've already surrounded us. I sense thirty." Drake said, speaking low and quiet. They'd stopped though, and the goblins were just smart enough to know they'd been noticed. Their sages empowered Drake's health, strength, and speed, while Lyria got a boost to her magic power, and one from Caelum that would apparently refresh her magic power over time. Then, the goblins appeared from both sides of the ravine. "Cover our front with Stoney!" Drake shouted. "I've got our backs. Sages, in the middle, and keep your Barriers up."






Sure enough, several roughly made bolts launched at the sources of empowering magic, and not Drake or Lyria. They fell uselessly, blocked by divine shields of Laurelin's light. Seeing where they'd come from, Drake didn't hold back. One of the enhancements martial artists on Earth sometimes used to help their bodies prepare or strike harder, involved certain kinds of breathing techniques. Drake hadn't tried them out yet, in this life, but he had used them in his previous one.


He inhaled through his nose and exhaled through pursed lips several times, building heat, and then took in a larger one. He activated his firebending, exhaled a line of flame from his mouth, and with some guidance from his hands, made it arc gracefully into the goblin's hidey holes, burning them alive.


The rest jumped out then, roughly fifteen of them with truly shoddy wooden weapons and armor, but Drake had already inhaled again. He made an O shape with his hand, raised it to his mouth, and then exhaled again, immediately enhancing the flames he made from his mouth as they passed through his hand's amplifying energy. The fires burned white from their intensity, as Drake didn't hold back, and all that remained as his vision recovered from the blinding glare, was a few piles of stinking ashes that faded away. Seeing their back was covered, Caelum and Rose helped Lyria make short work of the fifteen or so that came from the front, and just as quickly as it started, the fight was over.


"There will be more, and soon." Drake said. "Lyria, lead on. Have your elemental hide in the earth, if it can. Let's pick up the pace. If they have scouting parties that large…it doesn't bode well for Zemkarth's captives." They started running then, and Drake dashed up by Lyria's side, as they continued. "I should warn you…you're probably going to see some…truly depraved things once we reach their base…I know it sounds harsh but…stay focused. We can retrieve anyone who died later. If you get stunned by what they've done with your people…they'll use that opportunity to do the same thing to you." Drake glanced back at their sages, too. "That goes for you two as well…stay focused, stay angry, and turn anything with green skin into pulp. We can deal with the residents once the Goblins are completely exterminated. That means not spending your magic on wounded captives, either, not until their leader is down. We need to slay all the Goblins. Then we can help their victims."






Sure enough, as they approached the part of Zemkarth's mines that historically housed the aloof goblin tribe, they came upon an atrocity that confirmed for Drake the depths of depravity to which Dagorath had fallen. Dark Elven heads were mounted on wooden spikes, their bodies treated with the same disregard, in displays meant to intimidate, and unnerve.


"Ignore it." Drake reaffirmed with an angry grimace. "They're going to try to weaken and demoralize us as much as possible before we find the abomination responsible for this…save your anger, and your spells."


Two heavily armored goblins with tower shields and spiky metal plate armor blocked their path as they reached some kind of gate, or entrance, also carved with the same shoddy wooden style. Drake surged forward before Lyria could bring up their stoney friend. His first fist wove between the tower shield's shoddily forged spikes, and hammered the shield, smashing it into its owner from the force of the blow. Filled with fury, Drake ripped the shield, and the arm, from the dazed goblin, stomped its helmeted skull into green paste with a durable boot-covered foot, and then roundhouse kicked the shield towards the other charging goblin.


The giggling green monster seemed…happy, as his ally was turned to pulp. As if watching the brutality was doing something for him. Thoroughly disgusted, and more worried for Zemkarth's inhabitants than before, Drake switched to his earthbending as the goblin blocked the shield with its own, and stabbed at Drake with his corroded iron sword. Drake moved like water, spiraling right, then left, and then brought his hands together with a powerful clap. Two boulders rose from either side of the goblin, and mimicked the path of his hands, crushing it into bloody metal goo between them. "Keep moving!" Drake shouted, already running, "If they like watching each other die, that does not bode well!"






As expected, the gauntlet only got tougher and more brutal as they ran deeper. The bodies and their parts were arrayed in truly barbaric positions, and Caelum confirmed that, usually, low level goblins outside of a Dungeon did not go to these lengths. The worst part though, was that even if they killed all of the goblins, and their leader, they'd just respawn in the Wallow within a few days. Free to sneak out and start this horrorshow all over again somewhere else.


The enemies also got tougher. Magic casters accompanied shielded and plated warriors, and while Drake and the earth elemental handled the warriors, their casters managed to masterfully Counterspell and dispatch the goblin shamans and wizards. By the end of the gauntlet, their opponents were in the high forties, in terms of level, more than double what usually lived here, according to an ever more shaken Lyria. She was holding it together, but as they entered a circular arena at the end of the gauntlet, she saw a 'tree' full of her people, and finally fell to her knees. "Is…is anyone even left…?" She murmured, weeping quietly.


"Ho ho ho hooo…" A laugh that could rival Jabba the Hutt filled the area, as did his ungodly stench. "See how tha leetle elf cries! Ho ho hooo!" The earth shuddered, as an obscenely obese example of goblin biology stomped out from behind the 'tree', where Drake heard pained cries coming from.


"Lyria…" Drake murmured, "There are still survivors…and you haven't seen your family yet…compose yourself. This is the pile of shit responsible for all of this." That seemed to help her, as her sorrow was replaced by rage, she let it get her back on her feet.






The giant Goblin King grinned at them, but then, his eyes narrowed, as he saw they were furious, raring to go, and not nearly done yet. "Dum dums!" He thundered, "Me said tire them! Grrraaah! Kill! Now!"


"Drake…" Lyria said quietly, as plate wearing goblins surrounded them, though most did not have shields, being instead dual wielders or two handed weapon users. "Handle the rest…Elemental…protect the Sages…" Magic power started flaring off of her in waves of white, and her long hair rose with her power. "That pig is mine…" She leveled her new staff at the obese goblin, and arcane rings appeared around it as she struck. "METEOR!"


The goblin leader was enveloped by heat as a massive burning rock shot from the top of the staff and expanded rapidly. And yet, the powerful creature caught it, struggling against its momentum. Lyria, still furious, burned power to make it strike full force.


For his part, Drake encased his fists in stone, and raised a shield wall like a castle's turret around their healers. "Right here, greenskins!" He shouted, drawing their attention. "Dovah Alok! Times four!" Energy radiated out from him in waves at a lower rate than it had against the Raiju, and he charged at the goblins. Drake spiraled past their strikes, but did get hit by three of the attacks, despite his masterful dodging. He felt Rose's magic immediately flow into him though, and his wounds closed and healing instantly. He shot her a wink, before roundhousing another goblin with a stone encased foot.


Seeing their leader was resisting the Meteor, Drake used his buffed speed to get involved. Like a white blur, he was there with a Step of the Wind, and struck with a timely Dragon Palm, then backflipped away, throwing an sharp earthen elbow into two goblins attacking his earth shield around their sages. A massive elemental fist rose from the earth, and turned them into goo. Then, the powerful stored spell detonated, but Lyria was by no means done, and neither was her target. "Sunfire! Moonfire! Rain of Stars!" A beam of orange, silver, and then a torrent of white magic rained down on the obese creature, but it was essentially a living sack of health points. Lyria swore, and then shouted, "Debuffs! Now!"


Caelum and Rose shifted from firing basic Smite and Frostbolt spells at Drake's enemies, to laying on multiple debuffs at once. The dragon monk was not idle though, as he was making a pile of stunned and pummeled goblins. Each strike he landed stacked the minions atop the others, keeping them all pinned as they landed with force, and once he had as many as he dared to stack, he stomped the earth, and brought his raised fists down towards the ground. A circular pillar of stone descended rapidly on the pile of murderous goblins, and reduced them to gooey green chunks, and then black smoke.






His Shout ran out of steam about that time, and Drake suddenly felt winded, panting hard, as the Goblin King suddenly roared with enough force to shake the cavern system. Lyria leapt and pushed herself back with a Gust, shouting, "It's enraging! Elemental! Draw aggro!" Saving the elemental for this moment had proven to be the smart choice. The Goblin King's metal spiked fists tore into its body, but the elemental gave it a pounding in return. Each blow in the oversized slug fest sent shockwaves through the cavern.


Seeing Drake was on one knee, still winded from his Shout, Rose restored his energy. Drake gratefully nodded at her, rose to his feet, and then, he was gone in a flash of white. The Goblin King was sitting at level sixty, an earned level sixty, and his roar had actually been a demoralizing debuff of its own, not unlike a Slow spell. Drake hadn't been affected though, already slowed by his own exertion, and Rose had spent her action on freeing him of it. Caelum healed the elemental, his magic water restoring parts of its earthen form, and as the Goblin King readied a martial skill to hammer it to pieces in his enraged state, Drake was suddenly there, his palm quivering with power.


The Gods smiled on his strike, and even the obese goblin's constitution couldn't resist the effects of the Quivering Palm. He followed it with a Flurry of Blows, and each one multiplied the internal damage his bulging stomach was now suffering. Furious at his lack of damage on his enemies, the Goblin King struck with his own martial skills, but the elemental was there, and tanked the hits, all three of them, reduced to rubble before Drake's eyes. To his credit though, he didn't hesitate. Flames surged around his fists as he changed forms, hammering the giant green monster's stomach with two brutal fire fists, before unloading another Flurry of Blows, something he could chain with pretty much any melee attack. They didn't do much damage on their own, but with Quivering Palm up, they were incredibly useful.






Drake back flipped away, and Lyria was there, staff held forward, as a stream of white hot flames of her own burned the Goblin King, his obscene tree, and everything around him that was wooden. That final attack, put the creature within the range of Drake's Quivering Palm damage, and he shouted at the obscenely fat monster as he clenched his fist, and ended its life. "Hear me Goblin! I'm going to hunt you down in the Wallow, and kill you for good!"


Burned, battered, and internally bleeding the goblin grinned at him with a rotting smile, "Try it!" He roared, coughing up a thick glob of dark green blood, and smirking as it dribbled down his obese chest. "The Wallow is endless! The Emperor already begun!" The obscene creature grinned wider, as the internal damage made him expand. "You never stop us, weak Humie…your city already bends...soon...will break!!!" Then, with a gleeful cackle, his bloated body convulsed violently before exploding in burning green goo, which was actually quite damaging as it landed on all four of them. Rose and Caelum had to burn several spells just to get it to stop burning through their clothes and their allies. Once they were safe, Drake earthbended the fallen, burning corpse tree out of the way of the small tunnel behind it, and the party dashed inside to behold a new horror, one Drake recognized.


Dark Elves were manacled to the stone walls all around the chamber, in various states of bleeding, but the most disturbing thing, was what the goblins had done to their nether regions. The women's clothes, the lower parts anyway, were gone. The men were bleeding, apparently repeatedly stabbed in the family jewels. Healing magic could keep them from bleeding out and repair any brutalized body parts, but there was no easy fix for the trauma the goblins had caused.






"Above us!" Drake called out, as Lyria and the others started to move for the prisoners. Drake and Lyria moved before the small, stealthy goblins could strike though. Each once more utilizing their flamethrowers, the objectively weaker but somehow more perverse goblins fell like burnt insects to the ground, before they disappeared in black smoke like every other monster.


Drake switched to waterbending, and used what he had on hand to hydrate the survivors, and keep the Sage's mana filled. After ten minutes, everyone was free and healed to the point that they wouldn't die, but their eyes were haunted. Lyria's family, her mother, father, and two young sisters, had been among the more recent captives, and thus hadn't been brutalized like the others. The Dark Elves did confirm, though, that the Goblin King had indeed come from the Wallow Dungeon, and everyone who'd been turned into an 'art sculpture' had been brutalized like they had been, first.


For Drake, that solidified his choice. "Guys…" He said quietly, and all eyes turned to him, even the Dark Elves. The ones that weren't in shock, anyway, which was too few of them. "I think I know which Dungeon we need to clear first…"


Caelum grimaced. "Clearing the Wallow won't be something the Guild will approve, Drake. It's next to Primus, and it has plentiful low level monsters. It's too convenient. It's why they never attempted to clear it before."


Drake shook his head. "I don't care. Adventurers can fight other things, and y'know, actually go on adventures for their early experience points. The Wallow needs to be Purged. This will not happen again." His eyes were burning, and he knew the things he'd seen on their way in, and repressed, would stay with him for a long time. "If the fucking Guild has a problem with that…I'd like to see them try and stop me."






"Obviously…I'm in." Lyria said, the raw fury still in her tone.


"I'll support your choice, Drake." Rose said, calmly, "But clearing a Dungeon without the Guild's blessing will…have blowback. Even at the Academy. They might even demote you, or ban you from Raid Parties. Either way…we'll be made examples of, not elevated as Heroes. The other low level Adventurers will probably not be happy either."


"So I'll have a shiny blue Adventurer plate instead of a green one, and I'll have to do things solo. I don't care, Rose. What matters, is people. And if those savages have done this here, I have a feeling they've done it in the suburbs around the Wallow as well. They need to be stopped." Drake replied, adamantly.


"I will aid you as well, Drake. But we must be prepared. The Dungeons, especially the Wallow, are designed to drain our supplies before we ever reach their Goblin Emperor." Caelum said, quietly. "We're going to need a ton of food…especially if you plan on bringing Sethis, Garret, and Bjorn. Those beast boys eat four times the average sentient."


"You're right, Caelum…getting food and supplies to Adventurers on long term raids in Dungeons is a problem we need to solve, if we're going to clear them. Right now…we need to help these people, bury the dead, and get back to the Academy…then we'll do some reconnaissance. If the Goblins are getting out, it means the Wallow has other entrances. Something that fat and grotesque probably couldn't just sneak out the way Adventurers come in."


Caelum nodded. "I was thinking about that myself. We need to find and plug the other exits, root out any reinforcements they have lurking in the urban sprawl of Primus, and then Purge the Dungeon floor by floor." A dark smirk came over his handsome features. "Looks like Class Seven is going on a Dungeon Raid."






The rest of the quest was simple, comparatively. Lyria insisted that they continue their mining, and they left her to gather two stacks worth of Blackstone, while Rose put the bodies of the goblin's victims to rest. They'd settled on a mass grave, due to how scattered they were, and wanted to build a monument to remember them. Drake was gathering Mithril and Iron Ore for his quest and said monument respectively.


Eventually, he grew tired of the pickaxe he'd been provided, and just used his fists, which actually turned out to be faster. When he delivered the iron, the Dark Elves who'd managed to avoid torture and process what had been done, came to him. Lyria's father spoke for them, his silver eyes were empty and angry. "You're the one they call a Monk, yes?" Drake nodded. "We heard your words…and we want in. Dark Elves are strong fighters, when we're not ambushed. We know the bastard's tactics now…and we want vengeance for our fallen kin."


Drake gave him a grim smile. "We're going to scout things out first, and once we do, I'll take those of you high enough level to survive. You're not coming against the Boss…but numbers will help against the High Goblins. Train hard. It will take some time, so prepare yourselves, and enough food for several months. Maybe even a year. Time flows weirdly in there." The elf nodded at his words, and Drake paused, thinking ahead. "There's…one more thing you could help with. Spread your story. The Guild and the Academy will likely pitch a fit over this…and I intend to call them on it. Spread word of this in Primus and your capital. Try to recruit some strong Adventurers if you can, and when the time comes, we'll end these atrocities." Lyria's father, and the elves with him, nodded.






When the party returned to the Guild, they reported what happened to Kelista, who gave them some serious hazard pay as a result. In level, Drake, Rose, and Lyria had gone up by two. While Caelum had hit level fifty thanks to Drake's Boon. They gave nothing away about revenge, but had mentioned the leader's place of origin. All that elicited from Kelista was a shrug, but none of them lost their cool at her callousness.


Drake ended up bringing the ore to the Blacksmith Guild, and he managed to get a crash course in blacksmithing from the smiths who were more than glad to let the eager young student do their work for them. They'd actually laughed when he said he wanted to try smithing with his fists, at least until he pounded fresh mithril into an ingot in two strikes of his flattened, stone-encased fist. The smiths had him punch his way through much of their workload, and though he'd been quite dirty by the end, with his white martial arts pants almost fully black, they were quite amused by the sweaty, shirtless monk, and invited him back any time.


Smithing also had a level as it turned out, and gaining experience through that had gotten him halfway to fifty eight. Punching metal with stone-clad fists was cathartic, and he liked the idea of being a smith without a hammer. Caelum had also done some smithing, as it was a hobby he'd picked up from his home, and he too was quite amused that Drake had opted to forgo a hammer.


Once they wrapped up their quests, they returned to their room for a well earned shower, and to clean their clothes. Somehow, it was hard to believe they still had an entire day of classes ahead of them, but the whole raid had actually gone quite fast, thanks in no small part to their party's Buffs, and Drake's airbending. Drake sighed quietly as he showered, feeling very much exhausted, and wondering how he was supposed to focus while being this drained. Images of the mangled elven bodies the goblins had displayed flashed between drops of water. Yet, he didn't complain, he just dried off, and quietly promised those departed souls vengeance.


It was going to be a long year.

---

I Need Infinite Rations, and a Cold Shower

Enjoy.​

---

By the time Caelum and Drake were done with their basic Blacksmithing quests and had returned to Class Seven, most of their peers were gathered by Vincent's desk, marveling at how something like a bit of zinc, copper, and a popotoe could produce the equivalent of a low level Light cantrip. Even Aslan was intrigued.


Once the amusement over Vincent's 'magic popotoe' died down, Aslan gestured at their chalkboard, and conjured what looked like a seating list. "From today forward, Class Seven will be sitting in this formation, for the rest of this year at least, unless changes are needed. Please adjust yourselves accordingly."

Drake, as it happened, was now beside his girlfriend, with Garret on her right, and Lyria on the opposite side of the row. Glancing at the layout again, Drake realized there was, in fact, a pattern to it. Each of the teams they'd formed recently for questing had seemingly been solidified. "As you may have noticed,"Aslan rumbled, "your new seating arrangements are the parties you have formed in recent days. I am impressed with how you've all done with your questing, especially the four in our first row. The Raiju was a powerful opponent, one the guild is saying could have been a Dungeon Boss, had it been contained within one. Expect your future challenges to be even more dangerous, but rewarding."






The four in the front row nodded in unison, unified in their resolve. They'd filled Garret in on their traumatic morning in Zemkarth, and the lion man was very much down to fly in the face of the Guild and clear a Dungeon full of torture-happy goblins.


Their Instructor continued. "Now then, as some of you may be aware, our Academy has ten classrooms per year, with around twelve students per room. Each classroom regularly competes with the others, within the confines of Dungeons, once their students have achieved Steel Rank with the Adventurers Guild. These competitions are designed to help you grow, but also are quite important for keeping Monster populations managed. Your teams are expected to work together to gather as many kills and items as you can." Aslan smirked then, though there was a slight gleam in his leonine eyes. "Since we have some overachievers this year, we've been paired against Class One this time."


Drake raised his hand. Aslan inclined his head, indicating he could speak. "Are…the classes ranked by some kind of factor?"


Aslan nodded, and his blood red mane moved with him. "At the start of the year, they were ranked by your averaged levels and abilities. We lacked two students though, so ours was a bit lower by comparison. Now that you and your Party have reached Adamantine Rank, and we have you and Ironside, we're closer in power to Class Two. This test will also determine if we deserve a higher number, or even the topmost spot." He grinned at the class then. "I am confident that you are Class One material. Prove me right! Hahaha!"


With that announcement given, they began the lesson, on the only heroes to ever successfully defeat multiple Dungeons. Drake and his party shared a look, at that particular lesson happening the very day they'd decided to clear the Wallow Dungeon, but they paid attention all the same.






"Those who clear Dungeons are those who have carved their names into history." Aslan rumbled, "Final Bosses are exceedingly difficult, and almost always level one hundred, or higher. This means they are effectively immortal, and will only grow in power for the duration of their existence. Their abilities are what usually make them rise above other Monsters. We actually have a Final Boss with a pretty rare ability not far from here, in the Wallow Dungeon. Does anyone know what it is?"


Drake felt a bead of sweat run down his neck. Somehow, Aslan knew. This was too much of a coincidence to be natural. There was that, and the fact that he'd looked directly at Drake when asking his question. Drake used a subtle breathing technique to stay calm, and shrugged in answer to Aslan's intense leonine eyes. Mercifully, he looked elsewhere, and the rough rumble of Bjorn, 'Ironside' as he preferred to be called, filled the air, as the nonchalant bear teen said, "The Goblin Emperor of the Wallow Dungeon. Chronogrin. He can manipulate time, so even if some cocksure newbies did manage to reach him, they'd never actually get the chance to defeat him. In his lair, he is unkillable. And he never leaves his lair. He's also extremely high level, last sighted at one hundred and five."


Slowly, Drake and the others in his party reached the same conclusion. Someone had squealed. Drake trusted his teammates and Caelum though, which meant someone with Stealth had spied on them and spilled the beans. He subtly enhanced his perception again, and glanced at their class Rogue. Leif was staring directly at him. And smirking.


"Correct." Aslan rumbled. "Chronogrin has tried for centuries to break out of the Wallow, but each time he makes an attempt, the Guild in Primus soundly defeats his High Goblin armies. Your upcoming contest against Class One will take place within the Wallow to curb these armies, in two months time. Much like its namesake, the further one delves into the Wallow, the slower time flows. Even the most prepared parties end up burning through their supplies before ever getting near Chronogrin himself. This is, unfortunately, the case with most Dungeons that are still intact. The Final Bosses learned from the mistakes of their fallen contemporaries, and now, just reaching them takes monumental effort. It is why clearing a Dungeon is regarded as such a legendary feat."






The rest of the lesson continued, going over the heroes who'd cleared the Dungeons, which Dungeons had been cleared, and the party names of those storied Adventurers, carved forever into Arcadia's records. The most recent ones, Vis Aeterna, still had members who taught at the Academy. When the class departed for their five minute break between the next one, Aslan called out, "Drake Long. Stay a moment."


Leif snickered at him as he confidently strode out of the room, and started chatting with Rose. Drake had no worries about her stabbing him in the back romantically, but it still inspired the urge to wring the damned fox's neck. He was mostly irritated that Leif had been able to spy on him, though he started to wonder if Leif had not been spying on him, but on Rose. And if he made a habit of doing so. He kept his cool, as he stepped before Aslan's desk. The powerful leonid steepled his fingers, watching his student with a practiced eye.


"So. You have figured out that Leif has heard, and reported your plans to clear the Wallow." Aslan rumbled, plainly. Drake didn't bother denying it, he knew Aslan was no fool, and, he respected the lion man. "I heard about your Quest in Zemkarth. The atrocities the Goblin King committed in the name of his Emperor." The hulking leonid sat forward. "Leif expects me to report you to the Guild. As your Party has no doubt told you, clearing the Wallow will not be seen favorably by the Guild. It has too many benefits for their Adventurers…" His tone turned harsher then, "However…this ease of access to low level Monsters comes at a cost. The areas around the Wallow are, as one might expect, filled with the poor and the destitute. Nobody wants to live near a Dungeon, and those who do are desperate, and without Magical ability. Few capable warriors patrol that area of Primus, and even when other breaches in the Wallow are reported, they take months to seal by the Guild. The atrocities you witnessed are not contained to Zemkarth. They have been occurring for some time among the lower castes of Primus as well." He lowered his clawed hands. "I am in agreement with you, and your rebellious teammates. Chronogrin must be slain, and the Wallow purged. Even among Monsters…his Goblins are barbaric. Torture is not uncommon among Dagorath's spawn…but the rape and the…art…are unique to Goblins."






Drake nodded along with Aslan's words, glad to hear them. His opinion of his Instructor was skyrocketing. "I sense a but coming…"


"But, the problem remains. Reaching the Final Bosses is simply too taxing. Thus, Drake Long, Chosen of the Gods," He rumbled, dropping his title and simultaneously revealing that he very much knew who Drake was already, to some extent, "I task you with solving this problem. You have two months to prepare, and with Class One down there with you, you will never get a better opportunity to delve deeper into the Wallow than anyone else. Now then, on to our next class."


The rest of the day was a blur, and though Drake paid attention, his mind was focused on how one might even grow enough food to last. He essentially had three options. Bring as much food as possible, ration it, and shove it in, ideally, the equivalent of a Bag of Holding. Unfortunately, Rose told him such inventions did not yet exist, so unless Vincent could figure it out with his top tier enchanting skills, that was unlikely to work. There was also the problem of acquiring so much food. Currently, with his rewards, he had just enough Gil for three years worth of tuition, roughly twenty two and a half thousand, which meant he couldn't spend more yet.


The next options, relied on his nerdy weeb knowledge from his other life, in the form of special foods that appeared in what he hoped would be Dimensional Echoes he could make use of. The first option, and the most likely to work, given who had grown Arcadia from scratch, was Lembas Bread, or its Arcadian equivalent. With enough of a easily rationed foodstuff that could fill a man with one bite, rationed appropriately, they could last a very long time in the Wallow.


The third option, was the most unlikely, and that was finding a way to create the equivalent of a Senzu Bean, straight out of Dragonball. Not only would it, assuming it followed the pattern, keep them fed for ten days straight, it was an instant revive to full health and magic. Invaluable in the deeper floors of a Dungeon. He'd already managed to replicate a Kamehameha Wave closely enough for it to become a skill of his, so he figured making such an item was not completely impossible.






As it happened, fate was on his side, as Class Seven reported to the final class of the day, one considered boring by most: Alternate Jobs and Where to Find Them. Their Instructor for this class was an elderly witch who oversaw Class Three, usually, and Drake made use of her knowledge, once he and Rose partnered up to study the magical plant they were going over for the day. The plant in question was unimportant to Drake's goals, and he only paid it enough attention to pass the class. His real focus, was plying the witch for knowledge.


"Instructor Hollowbranch…" He started, after calling her over, "I was wondering something. Farming is considered an Alternate Job, as opposed to the regular Jobs like Blacksmithing and Weaving, right?" The elderly woman smiled and nodded. "Is there like…a world-renowned Farmer who has achieved a high level in that Job?"


The silver haired elven woman had a gleam in her eye, as she eyed Drake, saying, "It is said no living being is more skilled a Farmer, than our own Goddess Laurelin. This is why all Farmers, and Gardeners like myself, pay homage to her, and her techniques. Every single high level Gardening and Farming skill we possess, stems directly from her own, and her immense generosity in sharing them with us." The old woman smiled at him then. "If that's all, you should help Miss Valcrest before she finishes the assignment on her own." The threat was veiled, but it was there. She'd lower his grade if he didn't focus on the task at hand. Fortunately, the vision of perfection beside him made even Botany interesting.


Despite being essentially brushed off by the Instructor with what she probably thought was a non-answer since she hadn't named a single contemporary, Drake smirked inwardly. Laurelin he could, theoretically, go and see. And it'd be nice to see Falkor as well.






Once classes were done, Rose insisted on having dinner together, in the city. When he realized she intended for them to go to what Drake perceived as a fine dining restaurant, he informed Rose that he didn't actually have any clothes suitable for that, unless his Academy uniform would suffice. Rose lied, saying it wouldn't, and then dragged him to the nearest tailor.


She put him in several different suits, and each time her face flushed a little harder, until she finally settled on an emerald green one that made her ears turn red when he'd stepped out in it. They parted, then went back to the dorms to dress themselves, before rendezvousing by the agreed upon dining area. They also had a similar experience, from their roommates. Vincent was useless, uninterested, and plied Drake for more scientific knowledge, while Caelum helped him with Arcadia's version of a bow tie, that seemed more like an ascot to Drake's eyes, but he didn't argue with their naming conventions. Rose got aid from Tala, as they wrongly assumed he was a 'boob guy', the buxom bun had still managed to make Rose's assets pop enough to catch the eye, and her dress straddled that line between classy and way too revealing perfectly.

When they met up again, they stared at each other for a full thirty seconds, as a red flush reached both of their cheeks. Rose's dress, shimmering white, trimmed with gold, and form-fitting, made her already striking features even more dazzling, while Drake, in his emerald-green suit, felt uncharacteristically dapper. Rose had been right, this color suited him, even if he wasn't used to the finer things in life. Finally, recognizing that look in his eye, and realizing Drake was just going to keep staring until someone said something, Rose smirked and held out her arm. "Shall we?"


Drake chuckled and took it, leading her inside. The moment they stepped through the entrance, conversation around them hushed. Patrons turned, eyes flickering with interest, admiration, and, in some cases, jealousy. It was clear they made a striking pair. Drake wasn't sure he liked the attention, but Rose seemed to thrive in it, walking with the confident poise of a noblewoman, and looking quite pleased with herself.


Once seated by a rather impressive view of the rainbow colored Nebula above Arcadia, ever-present in the sky, they were handed menus, but Drake found himself watching Rose more than the elegant script in front of him. "What?" she asked, raising an amused brow.


"Sorry." He said, smirking. "Your beauty keeps drawing my gaze back to you."


She scoffed, but her cheeks tinted pink. "Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr. Long. Now, what are you having?"


Their conversation drifted as they ordered, and soon enough, food was placed before them. It was a fine meal, nothing particularly grand or exciting, but the company made it worthwhile. Over plates of expertly cooked meat, mashed popotoes, and seasoned vegetables, Drake steered the conversation. "So, tell me about your family," He said, remembering Caelum's words, as he took a bite of his meal. "I know you have siblings, but I don't think I've ever heard the full rundown."






Rose smiled, swirling a fork through her popotoes. "Two older brothers, both Arc Wardens, like I will be. One's stationed in Var Thule, that's an Adventurer City down on Tharvoss, holding the line against Dagorath's forces, and the other is an explorer, constantly sending letters from the edges of the known world. He's always chasing rumors of lost civilizations and forgotten artifacts. Then there's my younger sister...she's still finding her path. She's smart, but not much of a fighter. She might end up a scholar, though that's never been my path."


Drake raised an eyebrow. "Your parents are Arc Wardens, right? I assume they aren't just any Arc Wardens."


Rose nodded, her expression shifting to something between pride and exasperation. "That's putting it mildly. My father is one of the Arcari, a group of Elite Arc Wardens in Primus. He leads them, which means he's also in the Triarchy, namely, the three most powerful individuals in our society. Our rulers, in a sense. My mother is a Sage of Fangorn, a master of Light magic and healing. They are both widely respected and feared in equal measure."


Drake sat back, processing that information with wide eyes. "So…you're basically a Princess of the entire planet…and your father is one of Arcadia's three most important people." He made an internal 'aww man', but his expression gave him away.


Rose gave him a look. "I prefer 'highly esteemed,' but sure, you're…not entirely wrong. My brothers followed the path they were expected to, one is an Adventurer holding the line in Var Thule, another is an explorer chasing the unknown. My parents expect me to take a seat among the Sages or dedicate my life to politics. But that wasn't what I wanted. I didn't want to sit in Fangorn forever, healing minor injuries and bruises and performing fertility ceremonies. I want to use my power to help people…like you do. Like we've been doing. It's been so much fun." She smiled at him with her big besotted eyes, and he felt his body heat up again.






Drake smirked. "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself. I'll endeavor to keep her 'esteemed Highness' entertained and satisfied on our many adventures. Even if we keep almost dying…"


She giggled. "It is never dull, I'll give you that. What about your family? You've mentioned them before, but you always stay vague."


Drake hesitated, twirling his fork between his fingers. "I had a brother, parents… good people. But they're gone now, in a way." He sighed, setting down his utensil. "It's weird. Technically, I'm not even related to them anymore. From their perspective, I don't exist."


Rose's expression softened, but she didn't press. "Does that change how you feel about them?"


"No," He admitted. "But it makes me wonder…what does that make me now? Where did this body come from? It's DNA, it had to come from somewhere. Did Laurelin make me from nothing, or am I carrying pieces of someone else? Maybe even Galdurath? Or am I truly, divinely random? The first of my line?"


Rose reached across the table, resting her hand lightly over his. "You're still you. Whoever you were, whoever you are now…none of that changes the person sitting in front of me, or how I feel about you."


Drake smirked at her, getting lost in her emerald gaze again as he squeezed her hand gently. "You…are something special, Lady Valcrest." He teased.


She smirked. "It's a gift. Now eat your food before it gets cold."






Rose showed him a few landmarks of Primus within walking distance once they had their meal, and everywhere they went, Rose drew stares with her sheer beauty. She insisted he was getting looks as well, and he was, but none of the women had the bravery to try to snare him away from a High Elf so obviously beautiful. The men, naturally, were not so hesitant, and after the fourth rando tried walking up to her, he didn't leave her side again. Most, saw his level and backed off, and eventually they decided to end their date where they'd first kissed, by picking up where that one had left off.


Since it was late by that point, few people were around, and since they didn't have classes the next day, they had their first proper make out session, which only got increasingly heated the longer it went on. It took Drake more bodily control than he expected to keep his stupidly eager teen body in check, and to his credit, he remained 'at ease' right up until the end, when Rose's tiny hands kept exploring his now open shirt, and she decided to straddle him.


Both their eyes widened as he felt warmth and she felt firmness, and Drake was taken by surprise when she kept going anyway. He got lost in her lips again, and then forced his mind to stay focused. "Rose-" He managed her name, but her lips smothered his again, and he literally could not resist her. Finally, he moved his hands from her back to her shoulders, reluctantly pushing them apart. "Rose." He said more firmly. "I-if this keeps…heating up…things are going to…look," He said, smirking, and cupped her flushed, sweaty cheek. "The very least a woman like you deserves, is a bed."






His words, and hearing her name, pierced through the haze of hormones, and she turned even redder, as she realized just far things had gone. "Y-yea, right, you're right. I'm sorry, I…I forgot where we were." She giggled at him, and stole another kiss, while her hands buttoned up his shirt again.


His smirk stayed constant, as he let her fix what she had eagerly undone, and with impressive speed, for one supposedly not versed in le romance. Elven dexterity at work, no doubt. "We should do more of that, next time…somewhere more private. If you want."


The flush, which had been fading, returned in full force, but she didn't deny her feelings, or repress them. "I'd like that…you're a good kisser, Drake Long."


He shook his head. "I'm average at best…but it helps when I'm so completely enamored with who I'm kissing." He sat up then, and helped her to her feet, as they both adjusted their clothes. "It's pretty late. I'll walk you back, miss Valcrest."


"Such a gentlemen." She teased, offering her arm again, as they walked, slowly, back to the girl's dorms.






There were more people around outside, even with the late hour, and their lack of uniforms and general attractiveness once again drew eyes to them. Rose, heedless of this, grabbed his collar and dragged him into one final, passionate kiss, before she bid him goodnight. Drake departed the girl's dorms then, once Rose was inside, and walked back to his own dorm, expelling the heat from his body through his skin, this time, rather than a flamethrower. With how hot she'd gotten him this time, that would've drawn way too much attention, but the air around him did shimmer from the amount of heat he discharged.


Drake sneaked quietly into the room once he arrived, dropped down to his underclothes, and exhaled yet more heat, as he pulled his sheets over his sweaty form. Then, suddenly, the two lights above Vincent and Caelum's beds flicked on. His roomies were sitting up on their beds in their nightclothes, Vincent smirking, and Caelum feigning seriousness.


"You were out quite late, mister Long. Care to account for your whereabouts?" Caelum said, struggling to keep from cracking a smirk.






Drake shrugged, not sitting up. "I gave Rose a first date she'll hopefully fondly remember…I know I will. Ye Gods."


Vincent snortchuckled, as Caelum continued. "I hope you were a perfect gentleman, young man. Otherwise her father is going to kill you." That part, he wasn't joking about.


"Right, her father, one third of the rulers of the entire fucking planet. I'd almost forgotten, with all the…uhh…heat." Drake muttered, sitting up properly to look at his roomies. Their eyes widened, as they stared at him, and their reactions were priceless.


"Lucky…fucking…otherwordly Bastard." Vincent muttered, sighing, and falling back into his bed in a feigned huff.






Drake blinked. "What?"


Caelum broke into a laugh, as he saw the state Rose had left him in. "You uhh…should look in a mirror, my friend. She was all over you, clearly. If her father saw you now, he would one hundred percent murder you. And probably get away with it, too."


Getting up to head for the bathroom, he saw what he looked like, this time. Most of her lipstick had been transferred from her lips to his neck and chest, and that had been early in the session. She really had been all over him. Slowly, and with great effort, he wiped the irritatingly persistent lipstick away, and as he did, he pondered Rose Valcrest, and just how fond of her he was becoming. She clearly felt the same way, and as he cleaned off her lipstick and saw the marks she'd made on his chest and abs, he decided meeting her parents, or at the least the elven member of the Triarchy, sooner than later would be a good idea. He had every intention of being serious with her, for the long term, and likely his entire life. As he returned to his bed, he used a breathing technique to calm down further, but he knew he wasn't going to sleep very well after getting that wound up. Thankfully, he had a new outlet for all that energy in Blacksmithing, and an idea of how to rapidly increase his level, possibly.

 

[Sahqoreyth]

Chapter 5: Every Thing I Make, Every Quest I Take, Every Base I Break, an Elf King's Watching Me

Here's Class Seven again, now with combat armor variants. Class One will be at the bottom of the chapter. Enjoy.

---

Behold. Le World Map is complete. Enjoy.

And our boy's current skills.

Office of the Triarchs, Primus - Arcathis




​

Vaelithar Valcrest was at his ancient white wooden desk, his sharp eyes, one gold on the right, one silver on the left, were taking in the usual report of his beloved daughter's activities. Lena, his High Elf assistant, looked particularly nervous, hiding her classic elven good looks under her curly chestnut tresses, and as he read the report in its entirety, he understood why. His body was the picture of calm, dressed in robes befitting the Archsorcerer of the Arcari, the elite group of Archmagi that ran, operated, dispatched, and trained Arc Wardens, Vaelithar sat above all of them in terms of power, respect, and prestige, as one of the three immortal sovereigns that had overseen Arcadian society for millennia.


"Lena."


The word was like a thunderclap in the space, as the level one hundred and ninety sorcerer's aura started to flare up. Not many things could cause him to lose a measure of control, like this. In fact, there were maybe only two. His daughter, and his wife. He doted on them, but not on his sons, and they understood why. He respected them instead, as they'd done their storied lineage proud, but they were both several centuries old. His precious Rose was barely seventeen. Thus, Lena understood his intentions when he spoke again.


"Get me every single piece of information that you can about this…Drake Long."

​

Lena nodded. "I-I had a feeling you might want it, Archsorcerer, so I already compiled everything the Guild and the Academy have on him." She handed him a single piece of paper.


Vaelithar considered himself a good boss, even tempered, fair, even if their hours required them to work tirelessly year round for the good of their planet. There was simply so much to do, and arcane sorting methods could only go so fast, and retain so much. So it made his assistant flinch when his eyes rapidly scanned the paper that was slowly bending in his strong grip and said, "What the fuck is this?" He was perfectly calm, but there was a storm in his eyes and his bodily network of magic. "It's nothing. It's barely three paragraphs. You're telling me the oldest Guild on the planet and the finest Academy in the world, both of which he must attend, only gathered a single piece of paper's worth of information on him!?" Most dossiers ended up being several pages, at least.


"Well, sir, it uh, it seems your daughter has chosen a complete enigma as her suitor. No family history, no family name, and while the word itself is not unknown to us, it seems his last name has only ever been used to refer to, umm, length. There are no other Longs on all of Arcadia. On top of that…he's a class we've never heard of. A…Monk, I believe. Running description of its abilities is, and I'm quoting the Guild, sir, 'a fast, melee striker that punches things until they die'. And that does seem to be what he does. He and his Party, your daughter among them, have faced down a level seventy five Raiju that was hunting an Alicorn herd, and a level sixty Goblin King. The same one responsible for the slaughter in Zemkarth. The Monk, Drake Long, was level twenty five at the time of facing the Raiju, and level fifty five against the Goblin King."






The Archsorcerer slowly raised a sharp eyebrow. "He's gone from level three to fifty five inside of a week?"


"Fifty seven, as of last Status activation, sir!" Lena clarified, standing straight.


The High Elf's aura grew more intense. "This…has the reek of that Goddess all over it…" He snarled, standing, hands on the desk as he gave his orders with a controlled fury that made his robes billow. "Find out where he's going tomorrow…then, I'm going to Eradicate hi-"


Vaelithar paused, as one of the floating patterns by his desk drew an ornate Magic Mirror up onto it, as it received a communication from its partner. On Arcadia, these essentially functioned as telephones, though thanks to magic, they had jumped straight to the 'face time' stage of that technology, and never progressed it any further. While useful, they were hard to craft, and could only pair with one other mirror at a time. This one was specifically for his beloved wife. "Syl…That was fast. I take it you saw the same report I did."


His wife nodded. "And as expected of my darling Vael…you're already plotting to destroy the young man our daughter chose. Even you can't commit Murder, Vaelithar. Especially not of this boy."


The Archsorcerer grit his teeth. "I don't care how special he is to the Goddess, he will not have my Rose!"

​

Sylriel Valcrest rolled her eyes. "You sound like my father. When you courted me. At the Academy. As teenagers."


Vaelithar blanched, but as usual, his wife was right. Skilled politician he was, he dodged her point. "She's too young to start dating! We were twenty, at least. Several years in, proper Adventurers! She's barely seventeen! Maybe when she's a hundred and seventy. Or seventeen hundred. Quadruple digits at least." He said firmly, crossing his arms.


"She's closer to eighteen, and you know it." His wife replied calmly. "Listen to me well, Vaelithar. I know I cannot stop you from spying on him tomorrow. Few could. But understand, I will not allow you to murder our daughter's chance for a life as happy as ours before it's even begun! At the very least…examine the quality of his character. Our Rose is no fool, and if this report is accurate, she seems to have fallen harder than he has. She practically ripped the poor boy's shirt off in public, and he left not a mark on her." Sylriel smirked knowingly at him, then. "Perhaps, like some people, his emotions aren't always immediately obvious, and readable. Perhaps he understands what seeing kiss marks on her neck would do to her reputation. We simply do not know…so observe him. I will be. I'm very curious."


Vaelithar exhaled, defeated once again by his wife's sound logic. "Fine. But if he fails to impress me, I will see to it that he is removed from my Rose's life, one way or another."






Sylriel sighed, exasperated. "She's not Yours! She's her own person, Vaelithar. Just like we taught her to be. And this is her choice. By the Gods, you are stubborn…but I know it's because you care. You should come home, dear. Relax properly, before tomorrow."


Vaelithar sighed, tiredly. "There's…just too much to do. Weekends are when I catch up on everything I don't have time for during the week. I'll try to make it home soon."


Sylriel deflated at his words, but nodded stoically. "Alright. I'll see you then, I suppose." The mirror floated back to its resting place, and Vaelithar sighed again.


Lena spoke then. "Sir…I can wrap things up tonight, and I've already made room in your schedule for tomorrow's…spying. Go home. Rest. The work will be here when you return from scouting this…Drake Long person."


Vaelithar eyed his assistant. "You're sure? You already have your own work to see to as well, Lena."


The younger elven woman nodded confidently, though she still looked nervous for some reason. She's already given him the report, but Vaelithar didn't question it further. Many people were unnerved in his presence, and he had been releasing his aura more than intended. "Quite sure. Get some rest. I'll keep things from catching fire until you return."


Vaelithar glanced at his work pile, and sighed. "I could use a rest…very well. I leave things in your capable hands. I'll see you sometime tomorrow, Lena." With that, arguably the most powerful spellcaster on the planet, save Galdurath, Teleported home to surprise his wife, leaving his assistant alone in his office.






She got to work immediately, organizing papers, perusing the high level magical tomes on her boss's walls, many of which had been magically sealed and warded for centuries. Then, after several minutes, she contacted her true boss. Or rather, the one that had leverage on her. "Mr. Pandarus. I'm finally in."


The spell, a new one invented for one to one communication over vast distances, crackled as the arcane office's wards interfered with it, but the man's sleazy voice came through all the same. "It's about fucking time, Lena."


"Just tell me what I'm looking for." She said, barely hiding her disgust.


"Mind your tone, wench." The man growled. "The tome is called the Arcanomicon. Dispel the ward on it, and use the Scroll I gave you. Then, I'll see that your sister is let free. You should hurry up…Goblins are quite unkind to female prisoners."






Having seen the accounts from Zemkarth, and hundreds of others just like them that she'd kept from the eyes of the Triarchy at the behest of her blackmailer, her sense of panic and worry overpowered any hesitation she had for betraying the Archsorcerer. The tome was quite ancient, and a warning ward flashed as she drained it of magical power, what little was left. This simply required someone with enough mana to repower it, and the wards would persist for another several centuries.


It was a common enough occurrence, but before she repowered the ward, she'd be quickly perusing the tome in question. She opened the scroll, and grimaced as she recognized the highly regulated Duplicate spell, capable of exactly copying non magical artifacts in their entirety. Like the interiors of old tomes.


She had the tome copied and replaced quickly, and then Teleported the object in question to her blackmailer. His sleazy voice came into her head again, making her cringe as she placed the tome back and empowered the ward again. "Your sister will be just outside the main entrance to the Wallow. Have a nice life, Lena." She shuddered again, and Teleported, leaving the work pile, and the office, unattended.






She appeared outside the Wallow Dungeon, gasped in shock at the sight before her. Her sister looked like she'd been literally thrown out of the Dungeon, and left in the dirt. The lower part of her clothes were gone, and her eyes were blank, expressionless, disassociated with her reality. She curled up when her sister touched her, and as she looked up, her blank eyes registered that she was back in the upper world, and with her sister.


Tears streamed down the younger elf's face, and her sister was shaking as well, not with tears, but with rage. She forced a connection to Pandarus, all but shouting in his skull. "You said she would be unspoiled! What the fuck Eridion!? We had an agreement!"


The voice she was rapidly coming to hate filled her head again. "Ahh. That is unfortunate. You know what Goblins are like, my dear, downright brutal, and exceedingly stupid. Tell you what, I'll pay for her medical treatments, and a memory wipe spell, and she'll be good as new."


Lena grimaced. Even memory spells had limits. The more traumatic the memory the more likely it would resurface. Her sister would get maybe a decade before things started resurfacing.


"Remember, if you renege on our agreement, they'll bury You, not me. You're the one that committed a crime, all I did was purchase an illegally cloned tome that, for all the Wardens will know, turned out to be fake. Take your sister to the nearest hospital. I'll make sure she has the best care on the planet."






Lena got her sister to her feet, and cut off the communication to Pandarus. He was the reason her sister had been captured at all, she was sure of it. She knew her sister wasn't his only victim, either. But she had no proof.


As Lena felt her sister weeping against her side, her resolve solidified. She'd play along, burn Pandarus's money on expensive treatments and therapy, but in that moment she decided that pig had to go down. The only question was how, or more importantly, who. Pandarus had enough Gil to buy anyone's loyalty, or threaten them into inaction.


For some reason, a snippet of information relating to Drake Long bubbled up from her subconscious, as apparently, though it was unconfirmed, the young monk had decided that the Wallow needed Purging in the aftermath of what they'd done to Zemkarth. He was unbound, somehow, to their society, and his only emotional ties were all Arc Wardens, and had the vaunted protection of the Academy keeping them safe from the likes of Pandarus. He would, Lena realized, be the ideal instrument of Pandarus's downfall, and he might even do it for free, with moral fiber like what the rumors claimed he possessed. With a plan forming, Lena guided her sister to the hospital, and then began composing a secret, magical message.

The Next Day, Galdurian Arc Warden Academy Male Dormitory - Primus City​

"The idea is to pass an electrical current through an antenna, kinda like the 'magic popotoe', but much stronger. That'll make what we called 'radio waves' back on Earth. And thanks to the capacitors we made and set to charge before breakfast, we should, theoretically, be able to communicate with them, now they've had time to draw in ambient mana. This actually turned out really easy, since these nifty magic crystals can translate sound waves. We had a whole wire, cone, and magnet setup on Earth, but this is…so much easier."


Drake had used some minor metalbending by combining his earthbending to make his new device, along with a new blacksmithing skill related to magically shaping metal. This had unlocked a whole new stance, and had evolved his various element bending techniques into one single technique that he was familiar with, and very excited at the implications of: Energybending.


Vincent was composed but excited, the shine of his eyes giving him away. Caelum had tuned out and made a vacant expression during the explanation of how radio waves and antennas worked, but he was just as interested in the end result. "So we'll be able to speak to each other over long distances without any magic? Just a button press? Do you think they'll work in Dungeons?"






Drake shrugged. "They should. Depends on how much interference they pick up. Anyway, I'm gonna go outside and test this bad boy. Don't touch anything but the button, when you answer."


Drake ran out of their room then, found the stairwell crowded, and thus opted to leap out the window of the fourth floor in front of the stairs, cushioning his landing with some timely airbending. He looked up then, and smirked as he realized Rose and Lyria were before him, already in their adventuring clothes. They smirked at him, and Lyria shook her head as Drake said, "Stairs were crowded. Wanna see what we've been up to all morning?"


The two girls shared a look, eyed the magitech walkie talkie in his hand, and then nodded. Drake grinned and held the button. "Weed Den, this is Amdrag, confirm you copy, over."


Rose giggled at his strange choice of words, and Lyria was also smirking. Then, their eyes widened, as they heard Caelum's voice, and what sounded like Vincent struggling to grab the device. "Uhh…what? Drake? We can hear you, uh, over."


Drake smirked, and pressed the button again. "Ten-four Fisher King. Put Four Eyes on, if you would, over."






Vincent's voice came through next with remarkable clarity. "This must be that…radio language, you mentioned. It seems to combine vague physical characteristics, along with number combinations meant to convey acknowledgement in a subtle manner. I must say, I don't understand 'Weed Den' or 'Amdrag', though… over."


Rose and Lyria shared a look, and Drake grinned, as Vincent's voice was coming in crystal clear. He'd been worried the ley lines encircling the planet might scramble radio waves, but so far, they were good. Theoretically, with how Vincent explained that Dungeons were highly concentrated areas of magic, one of the many things that made their inhabitants so deadly, especially when they had time to just level without doing much for centuries, the walkies would probably work even better within them. At least, until one of the Final Bosses figured out what they were doing.


"Drake…" Rose started, "Did you…just invent, or perhaps re-invent is more accurate, a magicless long-distance communication device…in less than half a day?"


"Our room is the Weed Den, and I'm American, technically, and a master of Dragon Style Martial Arts. Amdrag. Over." There were, obviously, other reasons he'd chosen that callsign, but Vincent wouldn't understand them. Yet. Making cartoons, anime, movies, video games, all of it, was very much on the list. Currently, the most popular Arcadian method of entertainment was magically animating words with a mid level spell, like the Instructors did when teaching, but it was very draining to anyone who wasn't a high level Arc Warden, and the animation style changed with who was doing the casting. Drake intended to revolutionize their animating skills, and make bank while doing it. He smoothly turned back to Rose, and winked at her. "Girl, I've barely gotten started. Just wait. Once I make screens and recording devices, I'm paying a visit to the artists at our fine Academy. They're going to be superstars!" He chuckled, using jazz hands to emphasize his point.


They would also, from the jump, be getting certain guarantees about rights, pay, ownership over their image and its use, and of course, a strict code of conduct that would try and prevent any perverts in the future from creating the abusive, cookie cutter, greed driven shithole that Hollywood had turned into.






Rose chuckled at him, practically glowing as she did. Or maybe she just did that from his perspective, since she still had him dazzled from the night before. "Well, the sky isn't roiling with magic, so I guess the Gods will allow whatever schemes you have in mind. Anyways. If you boys are done reinventing how the world communicates, Garret is waiting at the Guild already, and so is most of the class." She gave him a meaningful look. "We're going into the Wallow, today."


Drake grinned with a fake sinister gleam in his eye. "I hope you all did some cooking already…because while I was making this," He spun the walkie like a revolver and slid it into his once more white martial arts pants, "Vincent managed to revolutionize Adventuring forever…after a few discussions about quantum mechanics, and a lot of spellcasting. I'll go get them."


In short order, they'd arrived at the Adventurer's Guild, where they found their classmates, geared and ready to roll out. They were also, each of them, holding various multitudes of foodstuffs in various methods of wrapping. Their class clown, Nyara, got on Drake's case as soon as he and his party walked in. "This is too much food, Drake! I didn't realize you asked everyone to make some. There's enough here for a year!" She also seemed oddly upset, for some reason, as if she'd thought he'd only asked her and her alone to cook.






Drake looked at the gathered foodstuffs, estimated their portions, and then calculated for their beastly tanks. "I'd call this about eight months worth, if the Tanks eat like they usually do. Vincent, if you'd like to share with the class?"


The bespectacled enchanter smirked knowingly, pushed his glasses up so they caught the light and turned white, and then said, "My friends, our extraplanar ally informed me of a nifty concept that Adventurers in his home used, to carry large amounts of food and water simultaneously." He smoothly brought around the leather backpack he'd had on his shoulders then, and placed it on the ground. Glancing around, Drake noted that Kelista, the Guild's primary clerk, and a few of the other adventurers loading up on breakfast were eyeing them too.


"It's called…a Bag of Holding." Vincent said, and a few of their classmates smirked at the name. "As you might expect, it holds things. But more things than usual. A lot more. Normally, shoving this much food into an Arcane Hole would make it too heavy to carry, but with some timely low level Blacksmithing runes for weight reduction engraved into the high quality leather bag I attached the Hole to, it's able to be worn in combat. The leather did also need to be magical and somewhat high quality for the runes to take, but it all worked out. Put the food in here friends, and we'll be on our way."


One by one, they put their food in the pocket plane, and then Vincent shouldered it again. They took some basic kill quests for goblins, hobgoblins, and even a Goblin King, if they could find one. As they stepped outside, they found the only members of their class who hadn't initially joined them, namely, the fourth row of their class seating chart that included Bjorn, Caelum, Leif, and Zara.






Caelum nodded at Drake as they locked eyes. "I explained the situation. Despite Leif's snitching, we're all in agreement with the general plan. The abominations in the Wallow need to be destroyed."


"Good." Drake said, meeting the gaze of everyone but the backstabbing fox, "We're going to need to trust each other down there." At that point, he gave Leif a hard to read stare, and the fox man's ears lowered slightly. "If we can do that…we'll be fine. The Goblins already trust each other, or at least obey enough to work together. If we can't outmatch them in that regard, they'll have yet another advantage over us." He addressed the group then. "While we're in there, try to stay close to me. I have a buff that boosts your experience gain, and we all need to get a lot stronger."


With that made clear, Class Seven made haste to the Wallow Dungeon. The upper floors were little more than a series of caves, long tunnels, and the occasional round intersection that nine out of ten times either had a fight going on, or the remnants of one. Drake quickly realized the upper levels on the first day of the week's end were absolutely packed with new adventurers. After a solid thirty minutes of only finding in-progress fights or ones that already ended, Zara finally said, "Let's just head deeper. We're wasting too much time."






Heading downwards in a Dungeon meant finding the right room on one's current floor, one that usually was home to what adventurers called Floor Bosses, which were usually higher level monsters, and always had loot with or around them. They found the floor, and the boss, already slain and looted, and by the look of him, he'd been slain a while ago. The next floor was entirely different. Connected by a short descending spiral staircase encased in black worked stone walls that seemed beyond a goblin's ability to craft, they emerged into an open field that had rolling plains, idyllic grassy fields, and several valleys, within which were fortified goblin camps with watchtowers surrounding them. Around the hills were a ring of mountains that, Drake assumed, were the hard border of the floor they were in. There was even an artificial sun in the sky, despite Arcadia not being anywhere near a star. Even this far away, Drake could see sentries on the furthest encampment's watchtowers, though his brows furrowed, as he saw arrows take them out.


Enhancing his senses, he looked closer at the other encampments, and swore. "There's only one left, and it's being attacked now! If we want in on the Floor Boss, we need to move!" As one, the four teams of four started running forward in a wedge formation, and Drake grimaced, as he noted the various trees and bushes dotting the landscape had enemies hiding within. "Hit the bushes with arrows! Low level spells only, they're just weaklings!"


Having apparently heard him, one of said weaklings that he hadn't noticed, a goblin in an assassin role most likely, leapt at him with a surprise attack from Stealth, and a pair of daggers dripping with poison. Drake managed to dodge one, but that just brought him right into the other, as it sank in deep, and critically, into his shoulder, near his heart. Almost immediately, he felt the poison numb his nerves and take effect. Perhaps it was his anger at being injured so easily, or just luck, but Drake countered with a critical strike of his own, as the power of his Dragon Palm blew away the top half of the low level goblin. Rose came up to him, but he shook his head. "I'm fine. Daggers can only do so much damage, and Monks can expel poison." Or at least, they could in D&D. He focused his inner Ki, and slowly, the tainted blood, now purple from the poison, leaked from his shoulder, and with some quick waterbending, it was left in a smoking pile on the ground.






In the distance, smoke began to rise from the final war camp, and Drake saw their group had fallen behind, to wait for him and Rose. "We need to go faster…everyone huddle close! I'm giving us a speed boost!" As they started running again, he started bending the air around them, first increasing their speed, and then as they caught up to their classmates, the entirety of Class Seven. In under a minute they crossed the vast plains. "One three…jump as high as you can! Trust the air to carry you over the wall, and get ready to fight as we land!"


Drake counted down, and then as one, they leapt. With a surge of airbending, he propelled them over the wall, and straight into utter chaos. Three teams of four adventurers below were heavily outnumbered, and in an increasingly desperate fight. Drake's growing perception saw they were also Academy students, and he had a feeling, they'd just jumped in on their class rivals right as the shit hit the fan. Leveling past fifty five had unlocked a new move that promised to make Quivering Palm even more brokenly overpowered. The Status System called it 'The Dragon's Fangs'. Drake knew it by a different name though, Eight Trigrams, Sixty Four Palms. The best part though, was that it was classified as a at will attack, meaning he could use it repeatedly, though his heightened perception when he aimed each attack did burn through his magic, it wasn't fast enough to matter, with his mana pool.


As he activated it, Drake saw the nodes of magic within the goblin's bodies that were within his melee range, and with his new ability, he could hammer those nodes for serious damage that grew exponentially from two, to four, to eight, to sixteen, to thirty two, to sixty four strikes at once. He just needed to manage to hit six times in a row to get to that number. As Drake took in his targets, he noted that these were hobgoblins. They were much larger than ordinary goblins standing at least six feet tall, they were hairier, and apparently hornier too, as they had a reputation for stalking the upper caves in search of female adventurers, but usually, they just ended up dead. The noob squads they'd run into had, after some chatting, revealed that multiple parties would band together to slay a hobgoblin, if one was found up above. Everyone knew what they did to their prisoners, but the system wasn't perfect, and too many women ended up being dragged down to this floor, or even further into the Wallow as a result.






Class Seven wasted no time. Their tanks spread out and drew the focus of the hobgoblins going for their peer's healers. For his part, Drake hammered a particularly hairy one for twelve total Dragon Fang strikes, which left it stunned about as long as a Dragon Palm would. Lyria's magic struck next, a Lightning Bolt that burned off most of the hob's fur, and then Leif was there to steal the kill, as he stabbed the creature in the neck and heart simultaneously. He smirked at Drake, as if his juvenile BS mattered, but Drake had already moved to his next target, along with everyone else.


The tables turned on the hobgoblins quickly, with most of what he assumed was Class One accepting their aid with little more than a nod. Their skills were legit, but their levels were slightly lower, and the hobgoblins were all at least fifty. Between that, and numbers, they'd ended up in dire straits rather quickly. As Drake and his timely fists helped turn the tables, and Leif kept stealing his kills, he finally found their leader.


Sethis and one of the knight tanks from Class One had it cornered, and as more of their damage dealers were freed up, they were converging on what had to be the Floor Boss. Covered in spiky black metal plate, the heavily muscled goblin was not a hobgoblin, but something else entirely. "It's a Champion!" Vincent shouted helpfully, as he and the rest of Drake's party saw where he was heading next. "Debuffs!"






He and Lyria hit the Goblin Champion with a series of debilitating debuffs that sapped its strength and forced it to slow down. Champions were apparently a mutation that hobgoblins could turn into when they served a strong enough king. They were considered leaders among their species, but they didn't tend to live for very long. The stronger a goblin got, the more paranoid it became, often for good reason, as a race as fecund as theirs was always trying to shift the power structure. It took brains, cunning, and brawn to advance, and hold one's position. This particular Goblin Champion clocked in at sixty, and Garret took over as main tank, since he was the highest leveled damage sponge they had.


As the champion swung its double-bladed great axe, Garret tanked it, and Sethis took the next blow, sliding across the field as even after a reduction in strength and speed, the Goblin Champion was no joke. After him, Class One's knight, covered head to toe in expensive looking plate armor, tanked the next, by which point Garret had been healed by Rose. This was the first time Drake had seen tanks rotate in action, but he didn't wait and watch, he needed to get a piece of the action, if his experience buff was going to apply to everyone around him. Thus, he decided to use some more of his new techniques, a powerful three-strike combo, and his first class buff, Fury of the First Dragon, which caused the enemies he struck to either be knocked prone, or sent flying into the air.


With a furious yell, he vanished in a flash of white and caught the champion with a swift uppercut to the jaw, sending it skyward, to the shock of both it, and his tanks. "Back up!" Was all he had time to shout at them as he leapt into the air after it, and activated Duel in the Heavens, the aforementioned three-hit combo.






Drake caught up to the champion in the air, as rotated to his right, hammering the monster with his knee, right to the midsection, where a human's kidneys would be. He then rapidly spun the other direction, and landed another knee strike, at which point he gusted himself back with some timely airbending, then forward again as gravity brought the Goblin Champion earthward again. Shifting the focus of his buff, Drake sent him hurtling into the ground with a double handed slam to the goblin's green abdominal muscles. The Goblin Champion slammed into the ground hard enough to break it, making him prone, as their tanks laid into him.


Having backed up as asked, they were perfectly positioned to damage the champion. Sethis cut off a leg, while Garret stabbed its heart, and the Class One tank went for the throat. Two sorcerers from Class One joined Lyria then, as all three focused lines of intense flame from their staves on the crater in which the Floor Boss had landed, reducing its health to zero.


The other parties, seeing they had things in hand, had begun searching for victims, but unfortunately, those they found were already dead from their wounds. Leif called out that the Floor Boss was dead then, around that time, and the rest of the two classes converged on the three tanks, Drake, Lyria, the other two sorcerers, Rose, and another healer who'd been helping her from Class One. Seeing the looks in their eyes, Drake spoke up first. "Four from your class and five from ours took this bastard down. I'd say that means we split the loot evenly. Any objections?"






The armored knight from the opposing class shook his spiky black haired head, as did Garret and Sethis, but of course, there were dissenting opinions. The epitome of a pompous noble stereotype, a High Elf whose golden plate armor was still pristine, spoke up loudly, turning up his pointed nose at them, as he needlessly ran a hand through his orange-blonde hair. "Our Class got here first. The loot, therefore, is ours." He hadn't even bothered joining the other tanks, despite being near enough to do so.


Leif spoke up next, a grin on his foxy face. "Your Class would be dead without us! And we'll take the payment for saving your asses from that chest!" He said, raising a silver claw towards a rather large and stereotypically overflowing brown loot container right beside a set of stairs that, presumably, led even further into the Wallow.


"Everyone calm down…" Drake started, as more claims for the loot erupted from both sides. "Garret, Sethis, take our armored friend here, and guard the chest for now, if you would." The three tanks shared a look, nodded, and then did so, which quieted the bickering.


Another force of personality emerged from the back of the opposing class then, and Drake could tell he was their leader. His hair was blue for some reason, probably thanks to mixed ancestry, and he smirked at Drake, as they locked eyes, and read the basic info that, Drake had learned, was a byproduct of reaching level fifty, namely, seeing another person's name, level, and class, with a glance and a bit of focused magic to the eyes. This teen's class was Sword Mage, like Nyara's. He was also level sixty, though, as Drake checked his own level, he found he'd hit fifty nine, which meant that, with his experience boost, he'd gotten a level and a half from a Goblin Champion. Given that the only ones above them were Kings and presumably the Emperor too, that made sense to him.






The blue haired teen held out a hand towards Drake. "Rael Astorius. You must be the Monk. I speak for class One."


Drake took the hand, giving it a firm shake. "Yes, I'm the Monk. Drake Long." He glanced at his classmates, and shrugged. "I don't know if I speak for all of them, but I am the primary reason we're here."


Rael gestured to the chest, then. "You seem reasonable. I'm glad. What should we do about this loot?"


Drake chuckled. "First, let's see what's inside. Garret, if you and your Class One compatriot would kindly open the chest…"






Rael smirked. "Forgive me, I forgot you're new to our Academy. The gentleman in the plate armor is Varian, a Knight of the noble house of Rynn." Drake blinked, and bit his tongue before he could smirk. Varian Rynn. He had a feeling the knight's sword could split in two, and the more Drake looked, the more similarities he noticed. A blue and gold lion on his kite shield. Both pauldrons of his blue full plate armor sported the head of a lion framed by eagle wings. Nice. Rael Astorius continued.


"The rest of my Party, Ceyrin Aerothal and his mighty wolf, Draug…" A member of Arcadia's bird folk that strongly resembled a Bald Eagle dipped his white head in Drake's direction, and the wolf by his side, which had to have been a Dire Wolf by its size, gave him an intelligent glance, and a slow nod. Apparently it qualified as a magical creature. "…and of course, our own fiery healing Sage, Lady Elara Astris."


The lady in question was busy smirking, and chatting with Rose, who looked absolutely thrilled to be in her presence. As she heard her name, the admittedly beautiful redhead turned to Drake with a critical eye, but this time, even his teenaged body did not react as she stepped close and offered a hand for him to kiss. He shook it, instead, and she scoffed, pretending to be offended. "So this is little Rose's latest love, hmm? Well, at least you've got the look of a Noble…I don't know about that Class, though…"


Varian spoke up in a rough baritone as he and Garret emptied the chest, placing the items within on the ground for all to see. "His Class just sent a Goblin Champion soaring twenty feet in the fucking air, Elara. With his bare fist." He gave Drake an approving nod. "It takes guts to face the spawn of Dagorath in melee combat, let alone in armor that light."






Drake shrugged. "Doesn't really bother me. Now then, along with the armor and weapon he left behind, it looks like we've got…an uneven amount of items." He sighed, and cast his gaze over the members of Class One that had yet to be introduced. Their second party was led by the paladin with orange-gold hair, long elven ears, full golden plate armor, and a cape. He was using a warhammer, and a large shield with Laurelin's symbol on it, the same golden tree that marked Falcor's brow. Their healer was a snake woman with black scales that had red bands on them, and a yellow underbelly, though her top half was more human than snake. Their damage dealers seemed to be a pair of pretty cat girls, one was a rogue like Leif and had black fur, with white markings on her cheeks. Her twin had white fur and black face marks, and he read her class as 'Druid', but she didn't look like a healer. Drake's eyes widened as he realized her hands had been shapeshifted into powerful white claws. A Feral Druid, then. A master of shapeshifting.


Drake sighed inwardly. In another life, in another world, that had been his class of choice. Stealthy, high burst damage, decent DoTs, and of course, the ability to heal. He tried not to think of his many MMO characters, now probably doomed to sit idle forever. All that effort and time, now useless to everyone. The final party of Class One arrived next, and Drake had to do a double take. Their leader seemed to be a redheaded nerd who was classed as a wizard. She was human, objectively normal, but the rest of her party was not.


Their tank was a hulking turtle man, with custom plate armor for his stomach and limbs. He had a two handed warhammer, and his thick, round shell, probably his shield, was covered in blue runes that had been carved into its edges. Their other damage dealer was an armored minotaur, with a large pair of dual-bladed axes. The most unique member though, had to be their healer. She was a being made entirely of stone, with orange-gold gems for eyes and similarly colored veins that ran throughout her skin. Her class was unusual too, as he'd never heard of a runescribe before.






"Now that everyone is here, shall we begin?" Rael asked, and the majority of those gathered nodded. "Let's start with the Champion's weapon. I see…only one here who could even use it, so, Bram," He said, turning to the massive bull man, "How does it compare to what you have?"


Bram looked between the two, and his brows crashed together. "Sharper…but the durability is trash. Would need forging." He snorted in exasperation.


"Actually, I can help with that," Drake chimed in, as he trotted over. The bull man was even larger up close, but as Drake pulled out a mithril ingot, left over from his first foray into smithing, the heavy bestial brows raised in surprise. He offered Drake the axe, and after some firebending, some fist smithing, and some blacksmith skills, he managed to infuse the shoddy goblin axe with the mithril bar, making it much stronger, and changing its overall appearance.


The bull man raised it, grinning. "HA! Mighty! You have the gratitude of Brammoth Ironhorn, small Monk."


Drake chuckled, and bowed. "Drake Long. Happy to help." He turned to the rest of the gathered adventurers. "If anyone needs repairs on metalwork, I can probably mend some stuff." He offered the gathered classes, and then blinked, as he realized his blacksmithing level had risen quite a bit just from that relatively simple fusion of materials and weapon. Apparently the higher the quality of material he worked with, the more experience it gave. An idea formed, as he remembered how objectively easy turning the mithril into bars had turned out to be. The four to one ratio with coal was a lot, but not with a Bag of Holding.






Next, the goblin's armor was claimed by Sethis, and Drake patched it up, along with a rent piece of Varian's breastplate, with his fist smithing. He'd managed to find an anvil in the goblin's encampment, which made fixing the armor quite easy. They also had a lot of Blackstone, as well as iron and copper ore. A little digging around had revealed a stash of mithril, which seemed to have been attempted to be forged by the goblins, with no success, but Drake had Vincent pack it all away into the Bag of Holding anyway.


Rael had fully taken over item distribution by that point, with both classes agreeing those who would benefit most from an item, should be the one to have it. The ultimate split ended up being fair, but the parties were split over the final item, as it would objectively improve anyone who used it. "You guys are still divvying loot?" Drake said, as he returned from the hut with the anvil in it, "I thought you'd be done by now."


"Ahh, Drake Long." Rael said, inclining his blue haired head. "Perhaps that Monk wisdom of yours can aid us here. Every Dungeon Chest below the first floor always comes with what we call an Epic tier item. This one, just happens to be…really quite good. Behold, the Corestone Catalyst." He held up what looked like a golden medallion, with a rainbow colored crystal at its center. "It passively heals any wound, and restores magic. At quite a fast rate. It also significantly increases one's speed, and provides a twenty point boost to all stats. As if that wasn't enough, it also grants its wearer an ability called Battlefield Awareness. Once activated, it highlights all nearby monsters, as well as allied creatures, in red and green respectively. Neutral creatures like natural and magical beasts are blue. It has only a three minute cooldown, and lasts until there are no longer red marked creatures in the area, or until its wearer ends the ability."


Drake whistled. "I can see why we're in disagreement on this."






At that moment, Rose stepped up next to him, and gave him a wink only he and their class could see from her angle. "I know how we might solve this, Rael, if you'll allow me."


Rael bowed gracefully. "Of course, Lady Valcrest. If anyone could mediate this, it would be you."


"Thank you." Rose said, stepping forward. "First, I'd like to propose something. From this point on, the floors will be harder to traverse, the enemies higher in level. My Drake here has an ability, as some of you have noticed, that affects all of those he deems allies. Many of you received quite a bit more experience than you were expecting, thanks to his arrival. I propose, in the name of leveling ourselves, we journey together henceforth, as allies, for I know the Goblins will be equally unified. Not being so ourselves may very well end up killing one of us."


Rael glanced over his class, and there was no dissent. She'd had them at 'magic experience boosting buff'. "Good." Rose said, with a dazzling smile. "Now then, as for who this rather decent item should go to, would everyone who already possesses a magical amulet, please raise their hand?"






Slowly, and with some confusion, everyone present raised their hand. Everyone except Drake. He was too busy falling, hard, for Rose as he just stared at her, impressed. Rael spoke then, "Drake Long…do you really not have an amulet, rings, or empowering trinkets?"


Drake shook his head. "I was going to get some, but I need all the Gil I make, currently. For tuition. I was told I had to pay my own way. I was hoping to get some on this run."


Rael nodded, and sighed. Rose had them. There was no one who needed it more than one without the slot even filled. "In that case…" She said, gently taking the Corestone Catalyst from him. "I believe the choice is obvious. We of Class Seven wouldn't be here today, if not for Drake. He's one of the highest level students in our class, and he's managed to outmatch even our Vincent in Dungeoneering." She put the medallion around his neck, still smiling, and finally met his gaze. As Drake had hoped, her cheeks flushed slightly. "If nobody objects, I'd like to make him our Class Leader, as Rael is to Class One."






There were, at that, some objections from Class Seven. Bjorn, Zara, and Leif all loudly protested, calling Rose biased. Bjorn crossed his arms, his deep voice rumbling with discontent. "I don't care how strong he is, leadership should go to the most experienced. And that's not him. I've been delving into Dungeons twice as long as all of you. I should be leading."


Zara scoffed, flipping her black hair over her shoulder. "You couldn't lead yourself out of a paper bag, 'Ironside'." She said with actual air quotes, before turning on Rose. "This isn't the government, Princess. You don't get to just crown your boyfriend as leader because you like him. He's not a leader, he hasn't been groomed since birth to be one, either. In fact, I don't believe he even has a family, let alone the finest tutors in Primus. Vincent or myself should be leading, no one else is near qualified."


Leif's ears flattened as his tail bristled. His glare was sharp, unrelenting. "Oh, of course. Let's all just line up behind the Chosen One like mindless sheep. Just because he's got divine backing, we should all just roll over and obey?" He scoffed, eyes burning with resentment as he crossed his arms. "He drops into our class from nowhere, racks up levels faster than anyone in history, and now we're just supposed to fall in line behind him? Not a chance. I'm not about to bow to some outsider just because Laurelin decided he should be special."


Drake spoke up, then. "I didn't ask to be Chosen, Leif. Goddess Laurelin made that choice herself, and she didn't choose you. She's not the only one that didn't choose you, either. Get over it." The foxkin drew his daggers and snarled, but a glare from Garret made him remember where he was. Behind them, Class One watched, interested, but lacking context. Drake turned to the others as Leif stormed off. "For this outing, at least. Rose is right, it was me that gathered us here today in a Dungeon most of you are well leveled above, at least for the upper floors. I'm the one who brought you into this pit, I'm the one who should be responsible for leading you out."


Bjorn studied Drake for a long moment before exhaling heavily. "Fine. But when you screw up, I'm taking over, Rookie."


Zara huffed but gave a reluctant nod. "No one is going to follow a guy that doesn't even use his real name Bjorn. Let alone someone who had to be demoted a year. You're less qualified than Drake is…but fine. He did beat Vincent that one time in class, I guess. Can't hurt to give him experience. That's what the Wallow is for."






Seeing Leif was still fuming, Drake walked over to him. "I think it's about time you and I had a heart to heart."


Leif remained unconvinced. "Fuck off and die." He said, simply.


"I'm not going to, Leif. I'm not going anywhere. I'm here to stay, and special boi that I am, I'll probably live longer than you. We were on good enough terms at lunch my first day. We've barely spoken since. What happened?"


Snarling, Leif pointed a clawed finger at him. "You stole Rose! The most beautiful woman at the Academy and you just waltz in and immediately romance her? It's bullshit! You did something! One of your weird God powers warped her mind, or something!"


Drake whistled. "Wow, dude. Uhh…y'know what? I'll let Rose herself set you straight on that one. Just do me a favor and agree to work with the Class until we're out of the rapey Goblin cesspit, alright?"


Leif snarled, tail still bristling. "Fine." It very much was not fine, though, and the last thing Drake needed was some lovesick delusional fox boy stabbing him while he was facing down a goblin.


Drake returned to Rose's side then. "You should uhh…talk to him. He has some…misconceptions about your relationship."


Calmly and serenely, Rose walked over to Leif, and Drake heightened his hearing so he could hear her words. She wasn't harsh or mean, but she did make it clear the silver foxman had never had even a flicker of a chance at being with her romantically. She called her attraction level to him a flat, unmoving zero, which seemed to make Leif deflate under the weight of the reality of her words. They both returned to the group then, and Rose very obviously took Drake's hand. Leif was quieter after that, no doubt processing the reality of being so calmly and brutally rejected. Drake understood Rose's methods. They had just identified who was still against the idea of him leading. Not that he really wanted to, he'd never been even remotely leadership material in his past life, but with a medallion this overpowered, it would be foolish to not have him in some sort of leadership role.


With the drama settled, Varian, Rael, Drake, and Garret led them further into the Wallow Dungeon. The next floor was very similar. Grassy fields, a bit more forest, some nearby mountains that likely contained ore. Drake murmured to Rose as they walked. "I was expecting more…mud. So far, all I'm seeing is fertile farming land and ore rich mountains. Why don't the Goblins just stay in here? Block off the entrances and prosper until they have enough numbers to break out?"






Rose smiled at him, though it faltered, as the eagle man ranger called out four total encampments. "Monsters don't know how to farm…they also don't need to eat, they just like how food tastes, when they take it off Adventurers. Their only instinct is to slaughter and spread despair, as their God commands. The only things they build are weapons, and temples to Dagorath's depravity. Besides, only a few can break out, without a Demon Lord to call them forth from the Dungeon with Dagorath's power. We'll find more of them the further down we go, though."


At that point, Rael called them over. "We've decided to take two of the four Goblin fortresses here per Class. Ceyrin's eyes spotted a Goblin Citadel in the far mountains, packed to the brim with Goblins wielding iron weapons and heavily fortified, and the forest around it was crawling with Hobgoblins. Draug also, apparently, heard wolves, which means there's likely a squad of Goblin Riders, lurking about."


Drake frowned. He didn't know if his buff had a range limit, but there was another issue. "What if they have Goblin Champions in each encampment? You guys were in pretty dire straits from just one. We should scout them out, first."


Rael nodded in agreement, and then, a moment later, Ceyrin landed beside them. "I heard you talking." He warbled in his shrill tone. "Each encampment has a lot less Goblins than that last one, but they do have Champions leading them. There's never been so many on just the third floor." He said, giving Rael a look.


"I also don't know how far my Buff extends." Drake added. "If they're higher than sixty, our Class could end up in trouble too, and I wouldn't be surprised if they had more Goblins waiting where we can't see them."






Rael nodded. "Well then, the obvious option is to Party up. Your Buff affected us even without that, but it makes sense to do so here. It should still affect us if we're all in the same party, in the same Dungeon. We'll all be able to see each other's health and magic, and if one Class ends up in trouble, the other can rush over, or send some timely aid. We should select who among us can get to the others the fastest, and either lend a hand, or rush back for full reinforcement."


Drake agreed, and those chosen to be potential runners were himself, Lyria, who could fly, Leif and his Rogue speed, and Zara, who also had learned the Fly spell. From Class One, the runners were Ceyrin, the bird ranger, both of the cat girl twins, Miuli and Miulei, and Aeliana Altis, the nerdy redheaded mage who had tons of spells, among them, Fly. The sorcerers and wizard could cast that on tanks and healers as needed as well, making them the more valuable go-betweens.


With the worst case scenarios prepared for, the parties shared their class buffs with each other as needed, and then set out. Garret, Sethis, and Bjorn smashed through their first encampment's wooden gate with little effort, and the slaughter began. There were far less hobgoblins this time, but no small amount of regular goblins, many of whom had annoying ranged weapons. Drake kept the arrows off them with his airbending, and the casters in the parties took them out with spells.


After that, he switched to firebending, and went hut to hut, catching several groups of lazing regular goblins in his firebending breath attack before they'd even realized they were under assault. Then, a roar echoed through the camp, and Drake, Rose, Garret, and Lyria converged on it. They found Ironside, already in berserker mode, matching a confidently smirking Goblin Champion blow for blow, each one of his greataxe's strikes healing him.






The champion's smirk faded as he realized there was not one, but three parties attacking his home. Garret and Sethis got involved, and so did the rest of their class. Seeing the damage being done, Drake shot into the air this time, and prepared a Quiet Kamehameha, as shouting the words was entirely for flavor. It didn't feel as epic, but it was quite satisfying when the empowered Ki beam hammered the champion directly and ended his existence, after the casters and Leif had done their damage. It wasn't an easy encounter by any means, but once they found the pattern of his attacks, six damage dealers, three tanks, and three healers keeping them all up made short work of even the mightiest foe.


They looked over at the encampment across from theirs, and sure enough, a few minutes later Class One gave the all clear. None of their health or magic was overly depleted. Ceyrin was flying towards them, and Drake met him halfway, where they confirmed that they'd take the next two encampments, and then rendezvous to camp together. More eyes, and a chance to bond, not to mention more people to take watch shifts, would guarantee a safe long rest as their abilities recharged. He also confirmed that, like Class Seven's champion, theirs had been level sixty two, but they'd all gotten a shitload of experience from it, so his buff was working.


Drake had his parties ransack the camp for all it had, though once again there were no living prisoners, just corpses, a few very rotten Adventurer Guild rations, and shoddy armor. It seemed only the final encampments on a floor would have anything to do with smithing. There had been a chest by the champion, but Drake already had his loot, so he didn't bother trying to get any, yet. Everyone who'd gotten nothing so far, had first dibs.


Their next raid went much the same, though Class One finished their champion first, and Ceyrin marked where the camp would be. The quests they had for exterminating goblins were finished, and the hobgoblin one was as well. Now all they needed was a Goblin King, though apparently it was rare for them to be this high in the Wallow. Despite facing a dual-wielding champion this time, once again, Class Seven's tactics proved as good as Class One's, and their rising levels and damage of their abilities made even the level sixty two opponent an easy win without his camp to back him up. Goblin Champions were threats to less experienced lower level parties, and their status as Academy prodigies was proving to be a legitimate threat to the goblins. Drake had no doubt that the Goblin Emperor was watching them though, and probably on the next few floors, his minions would adapt, likely with larger numbers.


Drake ended up getting a trinket that no one wanted, his first, in fact. The Mirror Image Mirror didn't boost stats, just hit points, but it also made Mirror Images of its holder. Apparently, the images were durable, and also drew from the same magic pool, so it wasn't a popular spell even among casters, and they only usually made one or two images, typically. Drake could make up to six, with the mirror. Apparently they just autonomously attacked too, but Drake tried it out on their way to the camp, and realized his new medallion regenerated his magic faster than his clones were burning it. With a little communication and mental control, he could also make them attack as he wanted, so none of them wasted Quivering Palm on low level enemies, or a tree. They were, essentially, Shadow Clones straight out of Naruto, but they were also him, and therefore shared his goal of kicking ass and looking cool as a monk. He even found he could adjust their robe colors, for help differentiating.






Drake offered to store Class One's food along with theirs, after explaining what the Bag of Holding did, and they tossed in some other hard to carry things as well, to be retrieved later. Dinner was something that Sethis had made, namely quite a lot of hearty stew in a magic cast iron pot that always replenished the broth. This meant, if they could hunt, they'd always have stew to eat. It was then Drake learned that natural animals did also live in Dungeons, and could apparently come and go from them at will. Ceyrin had offered to hunt some deer after hearing about the infinite broth pot, and Drake and Rose went for a walk through the now cleared area of the floor, as the night sky took over the day. Oddly, the night sky had three moons in it, despite Arcadia having zero, and Drake started to wonder if Dungeons were just altogether separate planes connected to entirely different worlds, or planets. Or maybe it was just an aesthetic choice by the Final Boss, or whatever force in Arcadia was responsible for creating the Dungeon's layouts.


Once they were far enough away, Rose kissed him again, and while he could never deny her, he did avoid another make out session, saying, "The Final Boss can probably see everything we do when we're in his Dungeon. The last thing I want is that pig Emperor seeing any more of You than he has to." Rose deflated, but nodded, seeing the sense in his words. Drake guided her chin upwards then, snaring her eyes again. "Once we're out of here, we should go somewhere private, tomorrow. Maybe a beach, or something."


Rose smirked at him, his intentions obvious, but not unwelcome. "I'd like that." She said, eyeing him in his far too concealing robe. The flowing garments hid his muscles well. "Well, I'm going to get some rest then. Don't stay out too long, Drake."






Drake assured her he wouldn't, but that wasn't entirely true. He'd sneaked the Bag of Holding off earlier, and now retrieved it. There were mountains near the floor's entrance, and his Battlefield Awareness confirmed no nearby monsters, so he wanted to do some mining before turning in. With some earthbending, and using said earthbending to sense ores within the mountain, he found quite a lot of copper, iron, coal, and even ten solid chunks of mithril. He also ended up with what he was pretty sure was adamantite, but his smithing skills were too low to confirm it. He went deeper though, testing the limits of the Dungeon, and eventually found an ominous black stone that seemed to be a hard border of the floor, but he knew for sure that no goblin had placed it here, under literal tons of earth.


About two more hours of mining, and he returned to the surface dirtier, but loaded with more than enough ore for his purposes thanks to years of perfecting strip mining in Minecraft. When he returned, he set the Bag of Holding back where he'd nicked it from, and found Rael and Ceyrin still up, murmuring in low tones. They both seemed relieved to see him. "We were about to go searching." Ceyrin warbled quietly. "Draug saw you tunnel into one of the mountains, and for a while there we were out of range of your Buff."


Rael smirked. "Vincent said not to worry. Doing some late night Fist Mining, were you?"


Drake nodded, and grabbed a fresh bowl of stew from the pot, though it was mostly broth. Ceyrin and Rael joined him. "You guys haven't seen this yet, but I can actually bend the earth to my fists as well as fire and air and water. I loaded up on some ores that I'm going to smelt when we get out of here, and after that…I have an idea of how I can rapidly increase my Blacksmithing level, which as I understand it, will also give me regular experience too."






Rael chuckled. "Vincent pegged you correctly. Always improving. Though I saw Rose return early looking a bit disappointed. After that steamy makeout you two had the other night that got the entire campus buzzing I was expecting more mussed hair and missing makeup. Trouble in paradise?"


Drake shook his head. "There's only a few things that could keep me from kissing a woman that fine…but a Final Boss watching us, especially one as perverted as a Goblin, is one of those things."


Ceyrin nodded. "A fair assumption. I have felt eyes upon us since we set up camp, and there is nothing in the woods around us, though your new ability could confirm that for us."


Drake took the hint, and activated it. A moment later he said, "We're all good. I think Draug scared off any normal Goblins that might've tried messing with us, and the Hobgoblins are all by the Fortress."


"In that case, I'm going to get some rest. Don't stay up all night on watch, Rael." As the birdman departed, that left Drake and Rael to talk some more, not of anything important, mostly just stories of epic fights. Rael had tons, whereas Drake had to draw from his D&D group's escapades, and insert himself into them. The handsome Sword Mage was a decent guy and Drake found himself liking his subtle humor the more they spoke. Once Nyara and one of the cat girl twins, the black Rogue one took over their watch, he went to bed confident that, though Class One were rivals, they were also worthy allies. He made a mental note to see if the other first years were as worthy, and then went to sleep trying not to think of Rose and her soft, warm lips.

---

Since our Protag did ding to 60, here's the level 60 stat blocks

---

And here's Class One, the most elite tier of first years at the Academy. We're just gonna do combat armor for the classes moving forward since...y'all get it. Blue/gold blazer. Black pants. Pleated skirts.

​

 

[Sahqoreyth]

Chapter 6: Fire, Goblins, and the Pursuit of Loot


We'll be taking a brief reprieve from Goblins after this. Fun as it is to imagine those little shits dying, it Does get repetitive.

Enjoy.​

---

Third Floor - Wallow Dungeon ​

A piercing howl jolted Drake awake, but his heightened stats helped him reach awareness quickly. A chorus of other howls filled the air after what must have been Draug's, and Drake heard Ceyrin shout, "Riders!"


The camp had slowly been waking up, and Drake was one of the last to rise, which he'd expected, after staying up so late. What he hadn't expected was for the wolf riding goblins and their hobgoblin allies to attack them so late in the morning. He assumed one of their leaders had gotten impatient, and as he ran out of his tent, he found chaos. The minotaur built like a bison, Bram, was already surrounded by three, but the furious warrior was laying into them, and their mounts. One swing from him could, and had, split both goblin and rider in half.


Drake, being a fan of canines, immediately recognized that the goblin's mounts had been driven mad by hunger and pain, arguably more brutalized than the sentients the goblins captured. It'd take years to rehabilitate them, in facilities that simply didn't exist on Arcadia. He heard Ceyrin screech in alarm, and Drake saw why. Draug was surrounded by five riders and four rather large hobgoblins. Drake started running, seeing everyone else was adapting to combat with who they happened to be near. He also noted their enemies this morning were level sixty five. Ceyrin's scouting had put them at least ten levels lower just a day before.






Drake heard the thudding of soft feet beside him as he ran for Draug, the only member of the party in real danger at that moment, and found Leif, daggers drawn. The fox man grimaced, but nodded. "Take the left!" Drake shouted, activating his Buff, and shooting ahead with his Step of the Wind. A moment later, a hobgoblin went soaring sixty feet in the air, immediately after, a rider and his rabid mount were slammed into the ground and then hammered twice, four times, eight, sixteen, thirty times in total, before the goblin finally died. An arrow through the neck had killed the hobgoblin in flight, and another arrow mercifully ended the wolf under Drake, leaving him to keep going.


Not to be outdone, Leif had leapt onto the back of a hobgoblin, and cut its throat with a single deadly sneak attack, leaping off it and onto a rider. One dagger cut the wolf's throat, while the other was parried once by the goblin, but another quick stab through its eye and into its brain ended it, as well. Getting clever, Drake shouted, "Leif!" And then hammered one of the two remaining hobgoblins, sending it into the air horizontally this time, and straight into the other hob. They collided in a blubbery goblin heap, and Leif quickly cut their throats.


By that point, the three remaining riders turned on their new adversaries, and Drake had to raise a gauntleted hand as wolf fangs came down on his arm with frenzied strength. The goblin stabbed with its spear, but Drake grabbed it and crushed it in his grip, with strength now comparable to a level eighty adventurer thanks to the absurd stat boost his medallion gave. Using his firebending, he raised a hand and Shouted, turning the Yol into a sudden, massive flamethrower that turned the foul rider into ash. Across from him, the turtle man who Drake hadn't really spoken with yet came to Leif's aid, drawing his rider's focus and pulping his mount's head with his warhammer, while the nimble fox Rogue lunged at the goblin and stabbed it in the heart, neck, and skull in rapid succession.






Then, a blur of blue stabbed the rabid, clearly starved wolf that was savaging Drake in its muzzle, making it open its jaws in reflexive pain and releasing Drake's arm, before the magical momentum behind the masterfully aimed sword stroke sent it flying and rolling into a nearby tree. The ominous crack of bone, likely its spine or ribs, ended the poor creature quickly. Rael helped Drake to his feet, and then dizziness overtook him. Glancing at his arm, he saw the wolf's fangs had properly opened it, and blood was spraying rather quickly from it. "Velda!" He heard Rael shout, but the sound seemed far away.


Drake took a breath, and forced his body to stay upright, and focused. He ignored the burning pain in his nerves or the warm, wet spray of blood coating the ground, and his outfit. Then, intensely powerful light from a golden rune that appeared over the grisly wound surged into his screaming nerves, soothing them as it rapidly repaired blood vessels, tendons, muscle and skin. Only the lower part of his forearm had suffered, Drake noted. The top had been protected by the now thoroughly scratched gauntlet covering most of his hand and arm. He looked up to see the strange stone person, Veldra, he believed her name was, responsible for the powerful, rapid heal.


He gave her a thumbs up with the healed arm, and then his eyes widened as he saw the final rider going for her. Launching into the air, Drake blinked, as lightning surged around one fist, while the other drew a casing of stone around it. His first punch in this evidently new two-hit combo skill sent lightning surging into the Goblin Rider, and then his brutal stone fist turned its foul head into goo as the plasma lingering on its body surged into the stone fist and further empowered his follow-up strike.






Hearing heavy thudding paws and a premonitory snarl, Drake backflipped off the rabid wolf snapping at him, as Draug barreled it over, freshly healed by Ceyrin's abilities, and one of their healers. The dire wolf tore the smaller one apart, and Drake looked around as he floated in the air. The campsite was littered with goblin bodies, but none of them were too injured.


"Class One, on me!" Rael shouted, raising his sword. In short order, all three of their parties gathered with practiced ease around their leader.


Not to be outdone, Drake landed roughly in the center of his Class, and raised a hand. "Revenge time! Assemble!" Not waiting on his peers, he let his robe flare as he approached the earthbended table they'd put a rough map of the floor on. Slowly, and more haphazardly, Class Seven assembled. Leif wasn't visible, Bjorn decided to loot the bodies first, Nyara made sure the goblins were dead, and to her credit, found two that'd been faking, before she came over as well. Everyone else had been prompt in assembling.






"So." Drake started, as he and Rael stood at opposite sides of the table, "What the fuck was that? Reinforcements?"


Rael nodded. "We are of a mind. It's unlikely those were the Goblins we scouted yesterday…there's no way Monsters get that much stronger that quickly…unless…" He shook his head. "It's very unlikely."


Drake slowly raised an eyebrow. "Iiiis there a way they could level up that fast?"


Rael gave him an inquisitive look. "I'm surprised you don't already know. The only method known to us…is if they somehow acquired a shard of the Dark God's power. An artifact, or corrupted magic item…just being near the power of their progenitor can level them quite quickly…but such artifacts are usually only the possession of a Demon Lord…and we haven't had one of those in eons."






Drake glanced down, as Rose's tiny hand rested on his shoulder. "I've known Rael for a while. We should tell them. All of it."


Drake smirked at her. "Maybe you should tell them. I'm nobody. You're basically a Princess."


She furrowed her brows at him. "You're the world's first Monk. Ever. And our leader."


"As adorable as your lover's banter is," Rael cut in, "There's a fortified fortress full of Goblins waiting on us, and he's right, Rose. If you have information to share about the mysterious, handsome Monk that appeared out of nowhere, we'd believe it more coming from you, than from him. No offense, Drake."


"None taken." Drake said, smirking. "I'd be disappointed if you trusted me immediately." With a nod from Drake, and a last-minute but probably smart sound muting barrier, and a Zone of Truth from Class One's paladin, Rose told them, vaguely, of Drake being chosen by the Goddess, hence the experience buff, and that he'd come from another world, being reincarnated into this one. That was why none of them had heard of him, and why he was so strong. Strong enough to, she added, take on a level seventy five Raiju, and a level sixty Goblin King despite being very underleveled when facing them.


Drake added that his Shout, and unintentionally using it with no limit, had helped beat the Raiju more than anything. The only reason he hadn't died was because of his absurd magic pool, Rose's healing, and Quivering Palm. Quivering Palm had also saved their asses against the Goblin King, along with tactics.






"So you see," Drake added once she finished, "If it's the same Goblin King, the Goblin Emperor might well have figured out I have divine aid, and thus given his own servant something similar, knowing that I'd come here. There's a good chance there's a Goblin King in that fortress, empowered by Dagorath."


Rael nodded, taking it all in stride. He seemed almost relieved when he'd heard Drake was apparently the God's chosen. "So to have any hope against it at all, you have to face it, and that's after we get the experience from clearing most of the fortress. But how do we draw them out…"


Drake grimaced. "Well…there's a few options. We bombard it with Fireballs, fire arrows, and…something new I want to try myself, and see if that draws them out. If that doesn't work…we rely on their lack of intelligence, and bait them with the lovely ladies in our Party. Then, once they make a move to snatch them, we murder them. One by one. Over and over."


Rael was also grimacing. "That…could work, honestly. Goblins this high up in the Wallow are not the brightest. Their private parts do the thinking for them, outside of combat. Let's bombard them first, and see if we can't set their base on fire. I'm interested to see what you have in mind."


Drake grinned. "There's a few…tricks I want to try with my Firebending. Save your spells, for now…if this works, I'll be able to bombard them repeatedly from a distance, and they'll have to come out to deal with me. Gimme ten minutes."






Rael did so, and Drake left the actual assault of the fortress's terrain to Vincent and the others as he found a spot away from the stench and gore to meditate, and focus. His plan was straight out of The Last Airbender, again, as he strove to revive Sparky Sparky Boom Man, and his overpowered firebending technique, in some form. Since his magic regenerated stupidly fast now, he could practice as hard as he needed, and would still be good to fight later.
He started by checking his status, and found that hitting sixty had given him a new at will ability, probably the one he'd just used. One element per hand, for him to mix and match as he pleased. The obvious combo with fire was air, but first, he had to make his fire dense and compressed as possible, holding it until it made contact with something, at which point, it would explode. This actually turned out to be surprisingly easy, and he supposed he was technically just recreating a Fireball spell with Ki. Picturing that, helped him keep the small fiery condensed ball intact up to super long distances from him, the max he managed to reach being around what he assumed was four hundred feet, more or less, at which point he used his bending to make the ball of flame expand violently.


Next, was compressing the air, which would add force and momentum to his Ki Fireball, essentially turning it into a firebomb. One that actually didn't take much magic at all to form. No more than a basic Ki Blast, anyway. By the end of ten minutes, he returned confident that he could set the goblin's fortress on fire.






Without further ado, the parties made their way towards the fortress, and Drake's brows furrowed, as it looked…quite different than it had yesterday. There was a lot more metal, a lot more goblins, and just more fortress in general. It was at that point, that another explanation besides a rising Demon Lord presented itself for the level boost to their enemies. Taking eight hours to rest had seemingly given the goblins eight years to prepare themselves for the coming fight. Swearing, quietly, Drake signaled for Rael and his teams to join them again. "Change of plans…" He hissed, irritated, "They've bent time to give themselves more power. Leave the distraction to me, we're going to need the spells later. Ceyrin, if you could cover me from the trees, that'd be great. Everyone else…get ready to ambush a lot more Goblins."


Rael nodded, and he led both classes as Drake and the eagle man took their positions. "Try to keep the archers off me. I can handle everything else. You'll know when to start."


With a quiet nod, the ranger waited patiently from a good angle on the fortress and the haphazardly fortified battlements, and Drake flew high into the air, using his Step of the Wind to leap past the general eyeline of the goblins manning the fortress. They'd never been attacked from above, so why would they ever look up? Once more, Drake focused his Ki, and one hand burned to life with flames, while the other formed a compressed swirling cyclone of wind in his palm. He combined them, staying focused, aimed, and then fired. Repeatedly.






Suddenly, the almost idyllic Dungeon landscape was hammered with violent explosions, and they increased in pace, as Drake realized he could fire them faster. For three straight minutes, tiny orbs of orange death hammered the fortress. Supplies exploded, ballistae and huts caught fire, and the main gate took at least twenty blasts. Then, all went silent, save for the sounds of panicked, wounded, and burning goblins. In the following quiet, Drake smirked as he heard Vincent and Rael. "Holy shit…he's a one man army…"


"Yea…Drake can do alot with his…Ki or whatever that turns classic spellcasting on its head. It's fascinating."


About a minute later, the firebombs rained down again, and the Academy students waiting in hiding watched in a mix of disbelief and awe, as it seemed giving the monk the epic amulet had indeed been a smart choice for the party. This time, the fireballs came even faster, as Drake had a handle on combining his elements now, or at least, air and fire, which naturally complemented each other.


"Shields up! Shields up!" One of the goblins shrieked, only to vanish in an explosion of expanding flames before he finished his sentence. Another group started chanting, their crude staves glowing with their foul goblin magic, until a firebomb hit their makeshift battlements, turning them into a column of flame leaving nothing but ash behind.


Quietly, the sorcerers and other magic users took notes. Replicating Drake's feat would've burned through their mana four times over, and inwardly, every single one made a point to ask him about how he was managing to fire so many Fireballs at so little a price. This display of power was intoxicating to watch, but there had to be a trick to it. Not even past chosen heroes had been able to unleash this kind of ruthless fire barrage so fast, and so often.


Six minutes of firebombing passed, and the gate was mostly slag now. A few archers had tried shooting at where the firebombs were coming from, but Drake and Ceyrin had made short work of them, and their weapons. About two minutes passed, before they started up again, and Drake started bringing down the foundations of the fortress built into the mountain. There were always more goblins, but as their fortress literally fell on them, Drake burned any that might've survived in the wreckage. Then, he brought the finale. His Shout rang out over the sky, as high level hobgoblins started swarming out of the fortress interior. "Do…vah… Envok! Times three!"


The charging hobgoblins looked around in brief confusion, as silence reigned, and no more fireballs came. Then, the sky cracked, and their world turned blue. A bright blue beam of Ki energy carved through the hobgoblins, and burned its way into the entrance they'd come from. Drake kept the Kamehameha going, until he used as much magic as he dared. Two minutes later, as hobgoblins started appearing again after digging their way out through stone and corpses, Drake shouted, "NOW!" As he flew full speed, boosting himself with airbending, straight into the base. He encased both hands in stone, and as expected, combining an element with its same element with his new technique doubled its power. He hit the fortress's center like a meteor, and the resulting earthquake buried the approaching hobgoblins in fissures in the earth that swallowed up and closed on them. It also ripped the front door off its hinges, and as the gathered adventurers charged in, yet more hobgoblins from below crawled out of the woodwork, and the ruined, firebombed fortress became a scene of pure chaos.






It was, Drake realized, a proper war. The hobgoblins were seemingly endless, but Drake didn't waver. "Stay together! They have to run out of reinforcements eventually! Take down as many as you can!" They all knew the reason why, and sure enough, despite their enemies' high levels ranging from sixty five to sixty eight, the young students were effectively grinding them. By the time they finally stopped, their healers were winded, their tank's abilities were all on cooldown, and the magic users were starting to flag. Even with his buff however, Drake was about halfway to sixty one. It seemed the grind got even harder every ten levels, but that just meant everyone else in their classes were able to catch up.


"Mana Potions!" Rael ordered, "We're nowhere near done yet!"


"Ho ho ho hooo…" A deep laugh echoed through the area, and Drake grimaced, as did his party.


"I know that laugh…"


"Ho ho ho hoooo! Little God puppet remembers me! I remember him…" Sure enough, the Goblin King from Zemkarth reappeared, his ugly goblin face unforgettable, bloated and hideous as he was. This time, he was at level sixty eight. He was thinner, too, not muscular but stocky and in much better shape. "It's been mere days for you…but years for me…lucky I serve an Emperor who understands what threat you pose…" He held up a black piece of what seemed like something that belonged to a larger object, and had been broken off. It was radiating literal darkness, black and red energy surrounded it.






"Don't let it eat that!" Rael shouted, his eyes wide, but his warning came too late. Drake tried firing a combination of compressed air and a reasonable chunk of stone this time, but the Goblin King had already swallowed the piece of what was likely a shard of a shard of Dagorath's power. The bullet-like rock merely nicked his pointy green ear, and the Goblin King doubled over, as the shard's power, even such a comparatively small amount of it, raised his level to seventy five before their eyes.


The physical changes it wrought were more noticeable. This time, its body did shed the fat, becoming less stocky and more classically muscular. The powerful legs became covered in green fur, the obscene feet of the grotesque goblin became cloven hooves. Large leathery wings sprouted from his back, and his yellow, flat toothed maw was now filled with a razor sharp grin. Horns erupted from his skull, jutting upwards, and he grew in size, to a solid fifteen feet in height. That fucking laugh of his did not change, though. "Ho ho ho hooo! My God blesses me! Quake, Mortals! A Demon Lord stands before you!" He let out a classic villain cackle that echoed through the entire Dungeon floor.

Rael started to panic. "We…we need to run. We need to run Now! We have no chance against that thing!"






"FUCK. THAT!" Drake shouted, drawing everyone's gaze, as he stepped forward, his inner Ki slowly manifesting in waves of white around his form. "I told this sentient piece of shit that I'd kill it when next I saw it." His eyes were furious, and on fire, as he looked at Rael, the horrors of Zemkarth still fresh in his mind. "Don't make me a liar, Rael."


The strongest first year in the Academy blanched, his face white. "Drake…it's over ten levels above us! It's a nascent Demon Lord! We're out of our fucking league, man!"


Drake looked back at the Goblin King. "Your league, maybe. This is exactly what I was brought to this World to face. I'm not letting this garbage out of here alive so it can rampage on the surface! Not without at least trying to bring it down! Who's with me!?"


Garret was there, shield ready, a grin on his leonine face. "I am with you, Drake Long. My word is my bond."


Lyria stepped up as well. "This pig dies for good, this day. I don't care how juiced up it is."


Rose was next. "I'll keep all of you up! The Gods are with us!" She looked at Rael, then. "The Raiju we faced was the same level…and we were much weaker, then. Help us, Rael."






The blue haired sword mage was beyond reason, though. Too many legends and stories of these creatures had him crippled. To be fair though, nobody expected a Demon Lord level opponent in their first year at the Academy. "It's over seventy! Do you not understand what that means!? You're all fucking insane…"


Varian Rynn stepped forward then, grimacing at his leader. "Rael…he's right. If this thing reaches the surface it'll get even stronger. Thousands will die. There's no fucking way I'm just running!" He readied his own shield, and abilities. The other tanks in Class One joined him, the turtle man's runes activated along his shell, and the pompous paladin, though unnerved, would not be outdone.


Vincent stepped up alongside Drake, with Caelum, and the rest of those who hadn't been at Zemkarth. Class Seven took their stances. "It's just another sack of Health Points…" He said, pushing up his glasses so they caught the firelight, "and frankly…I want its loot." That, more than the words of honor and bravado, convinced the rest of them to stand firm. Only Rael was left, shuddering in fear.


Then, the stoneforged woman, Veldra, put a firm hand on his shoulder. "Trust in your allies, and your power, Rael Astorius. It is time to live up to your family's name."


Rael took a shuddering breath, and managed to calm himself. Shakily, he raised his sword. "Fuck it, then. If we die, we die together!"






They should have perhaps been more concerned that the ascendant Goblin King, now classified as a Malblin King, had given them time to find their resolve. He cackled again, and raised his now muscular arms as they brimmed with black and red energy. "Good! I was hoping you would prove worthy of Dagorath's blessing! My first blood offering to my God!" The fortress shuddered, and what shoddy wooden buildings hadn't fallen in the firebombing now collapsed, crushing what sounded like more goblins within them. It seemed the Malblin King wanted them to itself.


Massive black obsidian pillars of stone rose from around the former fortress, and Drake quietly started to sweat. This thing might have been the same level as the Raiju, but the boost from Dagorath and being in a Dungeon made their respective power leagues apart. If they were to have any chance at all, they also needed divine assistance. In his head, Drake quietly said, "Are you with me too, Goddess Laurelin?"


A comforting warmth filled him, and he gasped as his Ki shifted from white to gold in color. "Always, my Hero. When your need is dire, call for Falkor. He has been leveling up as you have grown, for he is bonded to you now and forever. He is ready. But the timing must be perfect."


"The Goddess is with us." Drake affirmed, and he heard other soft gasps as the combined classes saw his light. "We're the best in the Academy." He said confidently. "Stick to your tactics, keep the healers alive, and hit this Demonic shitstain with Everything you have! Do not hold back, or death is guaranteed!" Gamer that he was, Drake understood, even here, it was a race against time. They needed to do more health damage than the Malblin King had, in the time it took their healers to run out of magic, and potions. Thankfully, his allies were rich snots, and thus well-stocked, but even wealthy adventurer potion hordes had a limit.






The adventurers roared in acknowledgement, as the Malblin King roared in fury, hatred forming in his eyes as he, and his new Patron, recognized the power supporting Drake. The debilitating debuff from his roar washed over them, but the Goddess's power kept it from affecting them. Then, the tanks surged forward. Garret, Sethis, Ironside, Varian, and Vasari all started attacking at once, but it was Varian Rynn who took the aggro first. Red energy surged from his sword and into the Malblin King as he shouted, "Right here, shitspawn! Your fight is with me!"


The demonic goblin raised a muscular arm, but instead of corroded iron knuckles, this time, it brought a weapon into being composed of the dark power surging through him. A flail with serious Sauron vibes formed in his hand. The spiked black head of it was as large as Bjorn, and connected on a thick black chain to a spiked iron rod. The spawn of Dagorath brought it down on Varian's shield, right as the warrior used a Parry at the perfect moment to deflect its momentum. The Malblin King stumbled back, as the momentum of his strike was suddenly reversed, knocking him off balance, and leaving him open. As one, the damage dealers attacked.


No less than ten powerful spells from the now collectively fifty five and above Academy students hammered the malblin, among them Drake's rapidly fired firebombs, and Ceyrin's magic infused arrows. The amount of damage to its visible health was negligible, but it was a chunk of it all the same. One large enough to give Drake a good measure. They could, with tactics, a little luck, and no full health regen bullshit, succeed in killing the monstrosity before them. "It bleeds! We can kill it!" Drake shouted, "Again!" He focused his Ki into multiple points of fire around him then, and saved magic by using the same larger but still compressed air burst to shoot the multiple Ki Fireballs at the corrupted goblin.






The Malblin King regained his balance quickly, despite the combined spells forcing him a step back, and this time, his foul flail connected with Varian's shield. Despite his defensive skill meant to mitigate damage, it took him down to a single quarter of his health. In one blow. If the shield had been anything but the highest quality money could afford, it would've likely shattered. Thankfully, runite did not break easily. Flames burning with healing light surged into Varian, bringing him back to full health, but the knight knew when they were outmatched. "Vasari! Only you can tank those!" The turtle man nodded, and stepped forward. Being a Rune Knight, and a turtle, he was exceptionally slow, but extremely hard to kill.


He leveled his warhammer at the Malblin King, forcing its attention onto him now, instead of Varian as a rune appeared on the foul beast's brow, and exploded. The next flail attack was faster than it should have been able to be, but Vasari was ready, as he intoned his ridiculous defensive magic. "Perfect Shield!" The barrier of white energy flared with one of the rune's on the turtle man's shell, and the rebounded momentum of the swing violently rippled through the flail's chain, ripping the jagged black metal handle from even the Malblin King's iron grip.


Another round of spells struck. Vincent laid down debuffs designed to slow his target, and severely weaken its attack power, which would hopefully make its attacks manageable by the tanks, and easier on their healer's magic pools. Behind it, the more stealthy party members finally struck, as the twin cat girls, one now in the form of a massive white saber-toothed panther, tore into the malblin's heels, specifically the tendons helping it stay upright. The rogue's blades were also coated with multiple poisons, further meant to weaken its attack power, and the corrosive black essence spread up the creature's calves, turning its veins black as its blood was corrupted.






Drake, for his part, saw an opportunity. He was a white blur in the air, as he went for the fallen flail, and combining his metalbending with lightning, he used his Ki to swing the now sparking weapon around at the Malblin King's head as he rotated in the air. An ungodly crack echoed through the ravaged fortress, and he finished his spin, purposefully tossing the weapon far away from their enemy. He'd either have to spend power making a new one, or spend power recalling that one to his hand.


The improvised strike with a weapon that large did manage to daze him though as electricity surged through his skull, and Vincent shouted, "Bring it down!" as the creature stumbled unsteadily. Another barrage of spells slammed into it, followed by a Greater Earth Elemental tackling it after being summoned by Lyria, and Draug, who was pouncing on the foul creature. All of that, every attack, every spell, even the flail, only managed to bring the nascent Demon Lord to three quarters of its health which, at that point, triggered a perhaps not entirely surprising change in its fighting style. At least for Drake, anyway.


A wave of dark force surged through them, sending the entirety of both classes slamming into the obsidian walls. Only Vasari remained in place, as did Lyria's elemental, firmly entrenched in the earth as it was. Drake tried to cushion the impact with airbending, as he was out of range of the large area of effect attack at that moment, but he only managed to catch Rose, Tala, Elara, and Veldra. He'd prioritized the healers for obvious reasons. Caelum and Class One's snake woman had been too far away, but Rose and Tala were on it, as they landed safely thanks to Drake and cast a combined Mass Heal.


Vincent had also, thanks to a quickly cast spell on himself, managed to lessen the brutal impact. "Vincent!" Drake got his attention. "I need Haste! Tell Lyria to Enlarge me once she's up!" He held up a palm radiating with golden Ki, that shifted to red specifically around his palm, as it started to visibly quiver. The Malblin King's eyes narrowed, as he recognized that attack, and with his next move, he recalled his flail, and summoned a massive demonic tower shield that had a gaping dragon's maw hanging open carved into the metal. The maw flickered with flames, and Drake had no doubt it could probably spew them like an actual dragon.






Drake's pupils widened, as he felt Haste take effect, alongside several tier two Buffs from Tala and Rose as well. The rest of the party was on their feet again, with the tanks and rogues already running towards the Malblin King again. Vasari took its focus again though, as another rune on his shell activated, this one making him almost as tall as the nascent Demon Lord himself. A second rune popped then, as his turtle eyes became clouded with storms, and as the Malblin King struck again, the slow moving and now giant turtle simply sidestepped the mace, dodging it by less than an inch, as if he saw it coming, and countered with a brutal upswing from his warhammer to the monster's jaw.


"Rael!" Drake shouted, as he stomped the ground, raised a boulder, and used one hundred and twenty six Dragon's Fangs to fire chunks of the boulder at the malblin like a stoney machine gun. "Give me an opening!"


Rael was slow to get back on his feet, but Drake's words galvanized him. "Aeliana!" He got his class wizard's attention. "We're doing the thing!"


The redhead's eyes widened, and then nodded. That particular thing would give the monk an opening, for sure. The rest of Class One also got ready. Rael stabbed the air multiple times with his sword, and around the Malblin King, various sparking blue crystals came into being. Then, with a Chain Lightning in each hand, Aeliana fired them simultaneously, creating a supremely damaging cage of plasma that kept arcing back into the same target after bouncing off Rael's crystals. Eight times the lightning struck, for an impressive amount of damage, but Rael wasn't done.






Before the spells dissipated, he used his own magic to give them another jump, this time, into his sword, at which point he combined the spells and added his own Lightning Bolt at an increased casting level. The three combined lightning blasts hammered the creature, and the sheer amount of electricity running through its nerves made raising its shield impossible, at least for a moment. That combo also brought the bastard down past half health. The rest of the class wasn't idle though, for while Rael and Aeliana had used what could only be called a tag-team combo spell, the rest of their parties took full advantage of it too.


An arrow with magically enhanced force behind it slammed into the creature, right as Draug, Brammoth, and Vasari did the same thing, finally knocking it prone. The minotaur roared savagely as his axes repeatedly buried into its muscular body. "Aldaron!" Vasari called out, and their paladin was there, ready with a spell he'd been charging for a while now. Shining golden blades pierced the malblin's limbs, pinning them down, and though the powerful monster tried resisting, it's dark power failed in the face of such powerful light.


Drake didn't need an invitation, he was above the Malblin King in an instant, and then shot down, increasing his speed with airbending, as he attempted to land the Quivering Palm. The malblin's eyes widened as it saw him, and then they bulged, as Drake struck his now solid abdominals covered in gaping axe wounds with a brutal palm. Once again, thanks to the debuffs and disadvantageous situation, the Malblin King failed to resist it despite his hearty constitution.


"Every hit will increase the damage! Unload on it!" Drake shouted, flying into the air again.






Hearing his words, Ceyrin unloaded a rain of arrows on the large demonic goblin. Each of the tanks struck it with advantaged strikes now that it was prone, for as many times as they could. Bram roared, enraging himself as he swung his dual axes even faster. Going for increased numbers of hits, every single spellcaster decided on the same attack, and a literal horde of Magic Missiles, about five per caster for a rough total of fifty, hammered the malblin with perfect accuracy, right in the center of his eight pack of demonic abdominals.


Drake also took advantage of its prone position, as from above he sent Ki infused air bursts into every single energy point on its body, for a total of one hundred and twenty six hits. Yet even with all of the hits stacking the growing internal damage from Quivering Palm, his eyes told him it wasn't enough yet. As the smoke from the barrage of attacks cleared, Drake reached out to his draconic companion, and felt a powerful mind answer him. It both was, but was not Falkor, and it seemed becoming an intelligent dragon and presumably reaching level sixty had significantly altered his personality from lovable pupper, to wizened dragon. He was happy to sense Drake, but he also knew he would have to fight.


"Ryuuu…haaaa…" He started, changing up the name of the attack slightly, as he poured a large amount of magic into his focused Ki Blast. "Meeee…" The golden aura around him flared, shooting off of his body and into the air behind him, as a massive white scaled draconic form appeared above Drake Long. His eyes and brow burned gold, his underbelly's scales were now black, like his claws, and his horns had grown into a majestic pair of antlers that still looked as solid as any other dragon's horns, despite their shape. The monk raised his charging Ki attack from his waist to above his head, making it as large as he could for Falkor, who understood what he needed to do.


The dragon both spoke and roared as he shouted with his own baritone. "HAAAAA!" The Ki turned golden, enhanced by whatever power Falkor had awakened as a now significantly high level magical creature. And, thanks to his very nature, luck was automagically on their side.






Seeing the dragon appear had made the Malblin King's eyes bulge in disbelief, but as the Ryuhameha Wave shot down towards him, the paladin's binding light swords finally faded, and he raised his dark shield in his defense. That did little to stop the critically effective hit, but it did, irritatingly, lessen the total amount of damage. On the positive side, the shield was reduced to nothing, though the positives were quickly balanced by several bad things happening at once. Artificially improving one's luck, it seemed, had a drawback.


First, the ground beneath the prone demonic goblin cracked, and caved in from the force of the Dragon Destruction Wave, but the creature only smirked as he disappeared into the darkness below the fortress, and Drake had a sneaking suspicion it had wanted to be pushed down there at some point. Then, right after that, Haste wore off, as did his Shout from the end of his firebombing, and the toll of firing such a potent combo attack effectively slowed Drake to a crawl. Thankfully, he managed to fight off the exhaustion building within him by focusing his Ki, but the boss wasn't done. Now on the last quarter of his health, he was desperate, and ready to cheat, like every other fucking goblin.


A hand of literal darkness surged up from the sinkhole, and grabbed Drake, as the nascent Demon Lord's voice rang through the area. "YOU! You die first!" Drake was too drained to fight it, and he only caught a flash of his friend's faces as the hand rapidly brought him down into the darkness below. He'd only briefly seen the others, as it was, of course, Rose that he looked to first. He hated worrying her, but he'd made himself the obvious choice for retribution, and the most likely target for a classic boss move that focused on, and usually killed, a specific damage dealer.






Still lethargic from the loss of Haste, Drake slammed into the dark stone floor beneath the fortress, and groaned. He didn't hear it though, for an entirely different, and again not entirely unexpected sound overpowered it. The chorus of dark chuckles from a horde of fucking goblins. The cowardly little shits had been hiding down here the entire time, it seemed. Their beady yellow eyes lit up around him, and his senses counted well over a hundred of the weaker, around level thirty and forty, variants, at least twenty hobgoblins, and two Goblin Champions. Then, of course, there was their leader, the one most visible in the gloom, thanks to the growing aura of pulsating red and black energy.


"Ho ho ho hoooo…my God greatly desires your death…Drake Long." Drake saw the creature's magic refill, but thankfully, his health did not. He was apparently reinforcing what health points he had still with a shield of some kind.


Slowly, activating his Draconic Perception, Drake managed to stand as the lethargy from Haste finally wore off. "I would know your name, Goblin…if shitspawn like you even have names…" He was very obviously buying time, and yet, none of his friends had jumped in after him. His ears vaguely heard arguing above, but he knew what they'd be saying. He was as good as dead, there were too many enemies down here, and the smart move now was to retreat, leave the Malblin King to heal, exit the Dungeon, call in properly high level adventurers, and then come back later, and maybe find either his corpse, or his tortured body.






"You will never know my name…it is wasted on one about to no longer exist in this world! Die!" The now much more articulate demonic goblin shouted, still grunting from the effort of attacking while his inner organs were being subtly pummeled by the chain reactions from Quivering Palm, the Malblin King's single-mindedness overpowered the pain, and Drake tried to block the incoming flail, but the lethargy was still affecting him. His health had already recovered from his hard landing, but his magic would take longer. This rapid recovery was all that kept him from dying, as despite the quickly raised slab of earth he did manage to bring up, the black metal flail smashed through it like cardboard, sending him rolling towards the waiting goblins.


Immediately, the opportunistic fuckers were on him, stabbing him with their knives, and though the pain was immense, he saw one of the champions bring down its massive spiked club towards him, and he forced himself to roll. The club pulped the goblins around him, except for the one he'd rolled into, but Drake dispatched that one personally, as he grabbed its foul face and burned it off. The creature suffered horribly, but that only seemed to entertain the others around him.


Furious, the Malblin King roared, "He is MINE! He must be offered to Dagorath…steal my kill, and you will die for it!" Again the flail hummed through the air, but Drake was ready this time, and finally able to move again. He spun low under it, spiraling up into a stance he hadn't used yet, as he hadn't needed it. The Restoring Palm. Instead of attacking the Malblin King though, he backflipped instead into the horde of goblins. They were stupid, greedy, violent, but they'd just gotten a direct order not to kill him, which made them perfect shields.






Roaring in irritation, the corrupted demon goblin struck again with the flail, while Drake pummeled the trash mobs, as many as he could, within his Dragon's Fangs reach. The multiple hits rapidly healed him, and helped clear his head, then, he backflipped and simultaneously spun through the air over the flail, as it took out a large swath of goblins, turning them to green paste. Drake came down on a hobgoblin, his foot cratering its skull, before two more punches in his three-hit mid air combo reduced two more goblins to goo, and then black smoke.


Drake whirled, turning both fists to stone and catching the greataxe wielded by one of the Goblin Champions that was attempting to split him in half. Its slobbering grin turned to a grunt of effort as Drake's superior strength stat forced the blade back up, slowly, and into its own face, and then skull. The other champion roared and charged at him, but by that point, the business end of the flail had returned. It smashed through the top of its own champion with ease, and killed even more of the goblins.


They weren't idle, or afraid of death, and though Drake dodged most of their opportunistic stabs, many did manage to hit him. He punched his way to full health again, at which point, the Malblin King tried something new. Like someone about to hock a loogie, he rumbled, and then spat multiple foul globs of glistening black goo onto the floor of the circular area he was fighting in. Then, he used some magic of his own, and the way his beady, demonic pupils dilated, Drake had a feeling monsters also knew about Haste. He smirked. An idiot goblin probably didn't know, or care, about the side effects though.






Drake focused his Ki, unwilling to give up, and began glowing again, the only visible light in the darkness. He blinked, as he felt multiple sudden Buffs hit him all at once, and then realized that, despite his assumption, the parties had not abandoned him. Yet. The dead corpse of a hobgoblin fell from the hole above, and Drake nodded. They were probably not doing much better than he was. As he took a Patient Defense stance, and gestured for the empowered demon goblin to bring it, the smirking crimson behemoth vanished with blinding speed, but Drake sensed his foul power. He spun into a roundhouse kick that connected with and parried his muscled fist, then, the flail came around again, but Drake easily leapt over it. Even with Haste, physics limited how fast a weapon like that could go. Had he been using, say, an axe or sword, it would've been much harder to dodge.


The Malblin King brought it around again in a wide arc, and Drake ducked under it, then raised a timely stone pillar with his earthbending. It wasn't just a rock though, it was a perfectly circular pole, thick enough to handle the demonic weapon's chain. The Malblin King's beady eyes widened in surprise as his flail came around again, missed Drake completely as the chain hooked on the pillar, and instead smashed its wielder in the face. By Drake's count, he had to dodge six more times, and then, he could counter. Drake's eyes widened, as he realized the flail had not only shattered the magic shield the monstrosity had created, but it had done enough damage to him to push him below his final quarter of health. At which point, a final transformation occurred, but this too, Drake had been expecting.


Another pair of arms sprouted from under the Malblin King's other arms, his wings grew even larger, and twisted black spikes erupted along his back and from his shoulders. His disfigured facial features, ruined by the flail, became even more monstrous, and he grew even larger as the black smoke of his fallen minions surged into him.

The enraged Malblin Tyrant roared at him, as he summoned not two, but four giant black fucking demon swords, one in each hand, and for the first time, Drake's courage faltered. He couldn't fight this monstrosity alone. Warmth surged within him, and he heard both Falkor and Laurelin speak in perfect unison.


"You are never alone, Drake Long. When the time is right, you will know what to Shout."


Drake nodded as he felt the knowledge enter his brain not from Laurelin, but from Falkor, and he focused, maintaining his defense. The Malblin Tyrant attacked in rapid succession, and Drake met each strike with one of his own, encasing his limbs in thick stone so they didn't simply break. Even with his durability, he had a feeling this thing could manage to rip him apart if it got close enough. Then, as Haste ended and lethargy took over, the demonic beast lunged again with its malformed maw, trying to catch him off guard with an extra attack he wasn't expecting. Instead, Drake backflipped away, and put his fist to his palm, as he focused.


His Ki flared, as he felt Falkor, and he Shouted, "I am thou…thou art I… Dovah Zii!"






Drake smirked, as he saw a draconic shaped surge of golden light descend from above, and he sensed Falkor's soul merge with his, not unlike the feeling he'd had when they first manifested in this world. He felt Falkor's wings settle onto his back, his horns landed atop his head, and white scales covered his arms, hands, neck, and body. It was like he was wearing the dragon like a cloak, or armor, and his smirk widened, as he realized just how close Quivering Palm was to, finally, being ready to activate.


For good measure, and dramatic flair as he wanted Class One to remember this as much as his own Class undoubtedly would, he activated his Fury of the First Dragon, and then vanished in a golden blur. A brutal Shoryuken to the jaw sent the Malblin Tyrant sailing up and out of the hole, and the following Dragon's Fangs hammered the giant defenseless target, thanks to the lethargy, one hundred and twenty six times in total, in a flash of brutal punches and kicks. The final one sent the abomination into the ground again, crushing numerous goblins and hobgoblins under its gigantic body.


Drake hovered over his lethargic foe ominously, and snarled, "I'm a dragonman of my word…time to die, shitspawn."


The Malblin Tyrant raised its grotesque head slowly, wincing as the inner organ damage finally seemed to be having an effect. "I…cannot…die…I am…a Demon Lord!"






Drake's eyes narrowed, and he flew closer to the prone malblin's face. "A Demon Lord? My ass…you're nothing but another stinking…filthy…Goblin…" Drake's Ki surged to life around his fused form again, and his eyes burned with Laurelin's light as he said, "And I slay Goblins…" He inhaled rapidly, and Shouted, using both his own knowledge and Falkor's, "FUS RO DA!"


The malblin's head was utterly eradicated before the Unrelenting Force. Drake stomped on the ground, shielding the now convulsing body in multiple layers of stone on one side, the one closest to his allies, as it struggled to regenerate, and was simultaneously being ripped apart from the inside. "Everyone get back!" He shouted again, remembering this asshole's final goodbye from Zemkarth. He flew into the air as more goblins surged from underground, and then activated his Quivering Palm. To his eyes, the Malblin Tyrant had, somehow, still possessed health points despite not having a head, but it was good to know that monsters empowered by their God could persist without vital organs.


The following explosion of flame and shadow surged through the base, and Drake saw their tanks and healers shielding everyone. For a heartbeat, silence reigned. The surviving goblins surging up to this level of the Dungeon presumably from the one below, stared in wide-eyed horror as their king's headless corpse convulsed, glowing with an unnatural energy. Then, fire and shadow erupted in a blinding wave. The last thing they saw was destruction, as they died, permanently, in the hard fiery evidence of their loss, and the adventurer's victory.






Drake let the fusion with Falkor, which was burning through his magic, fade. He got his first proper look at his draconic friend, and his eyes went wide. He was, essentially, just a bigger dragon now, but he was also majestic. His golden horns had grown to be more like a stag's for some reason, but it worked. His fangs were longer, his wingspan wider, but his golden eyes still shined with that same happy energy they'd had on Earth. He was still Falkor, and he was still happy to see his friend. Drake chuckled, and scratched the leathery skin beneath his powerful jaws. "Heyyy buddy. Thanks for saving my ass. That…was fucking awesome. I didn't know we could fuse…and when did you learn Dragon Shouts?"


Falkor rumbled a chuckle, very much enjoying the scritches. "I am a Dragon now, Drake. Goddess Laurelin gave me Unrelenting Force and Fire Breath, as well as knowledge of Zii, of Soul. Apparently, there will be what you would call 'Word Walls' appearing in Dungeons from now on. I will tell you if I sense any, but for now…my knowledge is yours." Drake's eyes widened, as energy from his partner surged into him. His knowledge of Yol expanded rapidly, and Skyrim's most iconic shout now also had a place in his head.


Slowly, they descended down to the waiting classes of students, and in his exhausted state, Drake didn't notice there were two new figures among them, hanging back. Immediately after landing, while everyone else's eyes were warily on the smiling Falkor, Rose ran up to him with zero hesitation, hugging him with tears in her eyes. "I'm sorry…I'm so sorry…we left you…we just left you down there…"






"Rose…I'm okay. He had my number from the start of this fight. I was always going to get pulled in alone…but I managed to stay alive…and all of your Buffs helped too." He said, wiping her eyes, and addressing Garret, Lyria, Caelum, and Vincent as they came over next. "You had your own problems up here…though…I will say, the next time some giant fucking third phase Boss drags me into a death hole, having someone jump in to help would be nice. If there wasn't a horde of weak Goblin trash down there to punch-heal off of, I would've died quite fast."


"We wanted to jump in, but…" Garret started to rumble, but a new, masculine, and entirely unrecognized voice cut him off.


"We prevented them from joining you, Drake Long." He felt Rose flinch, and grip him tighter, as the voice's owner came into view. Platinum blonde hair, one gold eye, one silver, a High Elf, a sorcerer, then Drake saw his level, one hundred and ninety, and his eyes widened in disbelief. He blinked, but he wasn't seeing incorrectly, and a moment later, a fully grown High Elven woman with emerald eyes he was very familiar with stepped up next to him. She was at one hundred and fifty, and a sage like Rose. He put two and two together, and nodded in understanding.


"Lord and Lady Valcrest, I presume." He nodded. "You put Rose's safety first, I understand…I was referring more to one of the tanks…I could've really used a damage sponge, but it seems they were needed up here."






The sorcerer spoke again then, "It was a good chance to see your abilities for myself. You were tested against the merest fraction of Dagorath's power…power that would've likely killed anyone else here, and you managed to surpass your limits, and survive." He sighed, heavily. "I have to admit…I am impressed. And as such…I will not interfere with you courting my beloved daughter." His voice entered Drake's head then, as he continued, "But mark my words, Drake Long…if you break her heart…I will break you."


He answered in kind. "She's as precious to me as she is to you…perhaps even more so, in some ways…I'll do everything I can to make her happy."


Despite his initial assumptions, Vaelithar Valcrest considered that, to be the correct answer to his words in this situation. He'd spent many centuries evaluating men, and could tell when they were lying. But this one, young, battered, exhausted, but still alive, was not lying to him. A slight smile cracked his face. As usual, his wife had been correct. Their Rose had chosen well. "Now then…I believe our monitoring duties have concluded…and both my wife and I have things to attend to. Enjoy your loot, Adventurers. It was well-earned."


Rael spoke up then, for all of them, as everyone present, except Drake and Rose, bowed their heads to him. "We are deeply grateful for your assistance, Archsorcerer!" The elderly elf, king in all but name, chuckled, and then Teleported himself and his wife away from the Dungeon. They'd have to leave manually, like everyone else, and usually Teleporting inside of one drained too much mana, but for the strongest sorcerer in Primus, it was quite easy.






"Now then…" Drake said loudly, shaking them from the awe of seeing one of the members of the Triarchy jumping in on their Dungeon run to keep their daughter from jumping into certain death after her boyfriend, "I believe it's time for some fucking loot!" They all cheered, but Class Seven was clearly louder.


Vincent spoke next. "First things first, Drake…I know what you're like, and that you've already forgiven us for just…leaving you to death or torture…but this is, at its core, an egregious breach of the Adventurer's Code. We don't leave people behind…but that's exactly what we would've done had Rose not been adamant about joining you, along with the rest of your Party. Thus…I think it should be you who distributes the drops. You're one of our leaders anyways, and did, by every metric, the most damage here. You also got the Boss kill. I trust that you'll hand it all out appropriately."


Drake sighed, and then nodded. This was a duty of a party leader, after all. He smiled down at Rose as she hit him with a stamina refreshing spell. "I'll make sure everyone, in both classes, gets something good. It might take a while to sort through though, so…clear a temporary camp, and try to get some rest."






Thus as the classes walked off to set up a spot to recuperate, Drake began with the pile of stuff that the Malblin Tyrant had left behind with its remains. For himself, and the Guild, he took the two horns from its head. They were classed as Legendary materials, but maybe after he punched through his ore stockpile, they'd be usable. Next, was a massive chunk of what his eyes claimed was orichalcum, an ore typically used by the greatest smiths to make Draconic Tier Adventurer items. Apparently, this had been the monstrosity's heart. He looked up as Falkor joined him with a heavy landing. "The others fear me…and I can purify these materials." Golden light washed over the remnants of the Malblin Tyrant, cleansing it completely of Dagorath's lingering taint.


It had also left behind a black metal crown that Drake vaguely recalled seeing on its head. He'd been more focused on the giant flail. It had some abilities, but he had a feeling he could make it suit Rose with some reforging. The final piece of loot was a massive pair of black metal shackles. Enough for three pairs of gauntlets, at least. He carried them over to Vincent, and spoke loudly. "Two things! Most of the Malblin's loot needs reforging, which I'll probably be able to do. I'm thinking there's enough metal on the shackles for every tank to have some gauntlets, so write down what enchantments or Buffs you already have and want to keep on them, and I'll try forging them later. Secondly…be nice to Falkor, guys. He's a good bo- err, Dragon," He said, catching himself, but those who remembered he'd once been a dog smirked at his words. "I'm sure you'll like him if you just…hey, wait, where'd he go?


The paladin, Aldaron, pointed at the giant purplish-black chest, which Falkor was now sniffing. "He's going to steal our loot! I knew you were full of it, everyone knows Dragons are greedy and evil!" A disappointing number of them stood rapidly, and readied their weapons in response to his words and the supposedly threatened loot, but Drake slid in front of them, arms wide. "Did you not see his brow!? He's good! I know a good Dragon is a new concept for you guys, but you need to not threaten him. You won't like what happens. Just…let him do his thing." Drake said, as he turned, saw Falkor glowing, and smirked. "He's a Luck Dragon, after all…"

The classes made an awed noise, as they watched Falkor, and his golden light warped and enveloped the chest. When it faded, the chest was no longer purple and ominous, but orange and ornate, covered in gold trim. Vincent's eyes bulged. "He…he just made it a Legendary chest!? Drake…I love your Dragon!" The rest of the teenagers cheered, as a much more slumpy Falkor walked back to them.


"I…require rest." He rumbled. And there were numerous chuckles. "You Heroes will have need of these items…for the challenges to come. Wield them well. Please. There should be at least…one for each of you." Falkor gave a tired sigh, and placed his toothy jaws on his paws.


Drake patted his head. "Thanks, bud. I'll make sure everyone gets what they need. Can someone feed him?" He asked, looking around. A smile broke his worried expression as Rose stepped forward, radiant and smiling.


"I've been dying to meet the brave soul who accompanied you here. I'll take care of him." Falkor thrummed happily as she started petting him, his large draconic tail doing a far too canine-like wiggle of happiness. Draug laid beside him as well, and the two seemed to be speaking to each other on a level their partners couldn't comprehend.






Both classes followed Drake this time, too eager to wait, and Drake said, "It'd be fitting to have the first hit and the last handing out the loot, I think. Varian, care to give me a hand? The noble knight nodded, and Drake opened the chest, eyes widening as he looked at the contents. "Holy shit…" Not only were there a solid twenty four pieces of loot, they were sitting atop a pile of platinum coins. Due to Arcadian scholars and magi understanding the inherent value and usefulness of platinum as a metal, they were worth a hundred gold coins each. Fifty silver made a gold piece, and fifty copper could be exchanged for a single silver.


He'd researched the Arcadian wealth gap, as that would be an integral part of breaking the magical stranglehold on greater Arcadian society, and the disparity in wealth, the gap between the 'castes' such as they were, made the wealth gaps on Earth look like small fissures compared to the Grand Canyon. This gulf also helped reinforce the non-wealthy non-adventurers to be content with their lot in life, as at the very least, Arcadian society didn't delude them into thinking they'd one day become part of the elite with hard work and elbow grease. It was more of a 'maybe you'll be luckier in your next life' kind of attitude, and it made Drake a bit nauseous. It was easy to forget, but all of those around him, people he'd come to call friends if not allies, were sitting at the top of a very immoral mountain because of where they'd been born.


"A-alright…" Drake started, "Let's uhh…let's just go in order, I guess." He grabbed a miniaturized light blue runic metal sword with an ornate golden lion hilt. The eyes blazed with a familiar orange light, and the weapon grew to standard longsword length as he withdrew it and handed it to Varian. The knight eagerly ditched his lower tier weapon, and put the new one on beside his top tier shield. "If uhh, if you guys don't want to sell your old stuff, I'll take it off your hands. See that it goes to someone who can make good use of it. Varian handed him his sword, but judging by the looks in the majority of the other's eyes, they would not be as charitable.






The distribution continued. Rael received something called an Aetherion Crystal for the base of his sword, one that would apparently allow him to strike with varied elemental magic as easily as Drake could. They agreed to a sparring duel later, at the Academy, and Rael departed, saying, "Once you get your item, break into teams and start looting the fortress! Be on alert for remnants of Goblins though, make no mistake, those bastards are hoping we wander off alone. If you get into trouble, make noise." The last member of Class One's first party, Elara, received a trinket that glowed with inner flame, and would apparently allow her to convert natural sources of heat into more mana. Drake quickly had her test it on flames made with his firebending, and it worked successfully. It was good, knowing that if they ever teamed up again, he could keep at least one of their healers supplied with mana pretty much indefinitely.


Ceyrin received a magic horn that would apparently call the beast version of his ancestors, namely giant bald eagles, to swarm and attack his target of choice, disappearing once it died. It had a fairly low cooldown though, and it gave him the passive ability to understand animal speech. He immediately ran over to Draug to try it out, and the dire wolf seemed very happy that they could finally speak as equals, with full comprehension. Aldaron, the next Class One tank in their second party, received a circular piece of metal that, when equipped, moved behind his head and shone like the sun. Apparently, its effects weren't that great, its main utility being that it could be combined with any headwear. It boosted his healing abilities and his magic pool, but he didn't seem too thrilled by it. Drake had a feeling his insulting Falkor right before the dragon did his thing, had resulted in a lesser reward, though perhaps not entirely on purpose, it hinted at just how potent Falkor's luck could be.


The next item, a snake-shaped amulet, went to the snakekin shaman that acted as one of their healers. It essentially turned her into a venombender, allowed her to heal her own health from poisons not her own, and allowed her to cast a potent poisoning aura on an ally that would do poison damage even to beings that resisted it. Next were the catgirl twins. The rogue got a cloak that boosted her stealth skills, and made Stealth usable in combat, while the feral druid received a powerful totem that directly enhanced her shapeshifting, allowing her to turn into bigger, stronger, and more deadly versions of her usual forms. Vasari got a belt that turned magical attacks sent his way into energy that would make his next attack as damaging as any damage focused class, which he seemed quite happy with. He bobbed his head in thanks, and slowly walked away to await the rest of his party, and begin looting the fortress. Veldra's item was unique to her race, and it melded into her arm, apparently without pain. It made her already absurd healing runes able to affect multiple targets, and would remove the fatigue she felt once all of her runes were on cooldown, allowing her to stay useful and conscious during a fight.


Their redheaded wizard got a powerful stave that allowed her to recast multiple spells per day, even the absurdly powerful ones, which with her repertoire, made her even more of a threat. Brammoth, the minotaur, got a pair of 'boots' that were really more like metal prison leg bindings, except that they did the opposite of restricting his movement. The runes engraved into the light blue runic material would make him faster, allowing his charging attacks to be even more deadly, and helping his titanic frame get where he needed to be to deal the most damage even quicker.






Next, was Class Seven's items, and Drake identified Rose's quickly. A brilliantly shining gold amulet that would let her healing abilities remove things like curses, disease, and fear effects passively. Her spells were also greatly increased in potency, putting her on par with the likes of Veldra in terms of how much health she could restore. It could, when activated by her health lowering, also generate an impenetrable but temporary shield that would give her a chance to heal herself, and hopefully regain her momentum long enough for her party to aid her. Drake pocketed it, approving of Falkor's choice for her. It was a bit too in line with what her parents undoubtedly wanted for her, and his dragon had likely heard and seen them, while Drake was busy in the death pit. Garret's item was a weapon unique to lion men, or other beastkin with claws. It made his basic attacks do lightning damage, fit over his claws, a weapon he was most naturally gifted with, and, he could still technically use a sword with them on. He seemed pleased to essentially be able to have two weapons. It was also very good at drawing attention from monsters.


Next up was Tala, who got a pair of what Drake mentally referred to as 'winged boots on steroids'. Not only did they let her fly indefinitely, jump even further than normal, and match her healing robes, they greatly extended the duration of her protection spells, to the point that she could now essentially keep anyone she wanted to shielded basically forever, so long as she kept casting the spell. Her other items naturally regenerated her magic too, like Drake's amulet, so she was very pleased that she could now give 'squishy Sethis' an eternal shield barrier that would go far in keeping him alive. Sethis, as it happened, was next. His item was a greatsword, though as Drake took it out, it grew so large and heavy that even he struggled to lift it. The Abyssal Edge, as it was apparently called, was essentially just a sharp slab of dark metal that could turn his attacks into heals, and once per encounter, shield him from magic damage. Sethis struggled to lift it, but Drake had a feeling that with time and practice, he'd be able to wield the massive weapon to great effect.


Vincent received a cloak, the same color as his current one but a bit more ornate, that had a complicated enchantment on it. From what Drake quickly scanned through, he could absorb magical spells, and redirect that energy as he saw fit, either into himself, allies, or into protective barriers for whoever he decided needed one. There was something about enhancing attacks too, but Drake let the genius figure out his overly complicated item on his own. Nyara got a sword that could actually be used in melee without breaking, and turned her basic attacks into sharp slashes of wind. She could also use it to boost her speed, or an ally's. The last of their tanks, but by no means least, Bjorn received a bear-shaped amulet that just naturally increased how hard he could rage, and enhanced his roars to cause fear, or draw mass amounts of focus to him from nearby enemies. It also greatly boosted his stamina.







For Caelum, Drake found an item that would probably help him survive his trials to come. It was a ring that provided similar health, magic, and stat boosts to Drake's amulet, and it also had the ability to cleanse tainted water, convert water into health that wasn't his own, and it let him see in pitch blackness. For Leif, Drake had what seemed like a single shuriken, but not only could it multiply itself up to a hundred times, the original always returned to the thrower's hand. "I was thinking of turning the Malblin horns into daggers for you, too." Drake said to the fox teen. "They'd probably be pretty good."


"Don't bother." Leif snarled. "Like I'd want something forged by someone who punches metal. Ridiculous. I'll be just fine with this, and my daggers." He walked off then, feeling smug, and Drake just shrugged. The horns had a natural effect that drained health and magic from whoever they stabbed, but Drake could definitely use them himself. Facing down the malblin had made it clear that his Dragon's Fangs, while powerful, would be greatly boosted by something actually sharp. At a certain point, he guessed jabbing enemy magic centers with Ki would stop being as effective, and if they resisted that for whatever reason, actually stabbing them over a hundred times would also be effective, probably. Zara received a staff that let her turn every spell she had into an area of effect, or single/multi-target. It also greatly increased her range, and gave her a Buff that thoroughly raised her magical attack power for an entire hour.


As Drake started counting out the money, he found a final item, and guessed rightly that Falkor had included one for him, too. It was a ring, easily lost among the pile of awesome treasure, called the Ring of Draconic Friendship. It allowed him to summon a bonded companion to his side anywhere, at any time, greatly enhanced abilities used in conjunction with said companion, and increased his damage against any monster infused with Dagorath's power, which was technically all of them, otherwise they would not have been classed as monsters. He slipped it on, and to his surprise, it faded from sight. He smirked as doing so had made Falkor look over, he waved at his partner, who was getting some stew from Rose. He found he could sense the dragon's emotions much clearer now, and from further away. Their next combo moves promised to be quite powerful indeed.






Very much wanting to join his girl and his friend, he counted the money quickly, and his eyes bulged at the final total. Five hundred and fifty thousand, in gold. Most of it was platinum, too. That was about twenty two thousand and nine hundred for each of them, and he made it an even twenty two thousand and five hundred for each of them instead, as they had abandoned him in the death pit. That meant about ninety nine hundred more for his total, which for soloing a final phase demon goblin, he felt was fair. It was also just over a year of tuition for him, and when he deducted his remaining years of schooling, plus textbooks, that 'bonus' would likely cover it all. Assuming prices didn't skyrocket. That left him, assuming his math was right, with roughly five hundred gold free for his smithing and other shenanigans.


It was a pittance probably, to his allies, but monetarily, it put him in the upper middle caste above the majority of Arcadia's populace, and highlighted just how lucky adventurers were. He set the rest into twenty three piles, and levitated them over to their camp with his metalbending. As each of them returned, he made sure everyone got their share.


Rose smirked at him as he sat down beside her, and Falkor, who brought his head into Drake's lap for more pets and attention. The poor boi had gone a while without any from his favorite person, and Drake made up for lost time. "So what are you doing for the rest of the weekend? Anything fun planned?"


Drake blinked at the sense of deja vu from that particular question. The last time he'd heard it felt like a lifetime ago, in a different world, as a different person. He smiled at her, and Falkor, and the absurdity of their surroundings. A gorgeous elf princess and his favorite doggo-turned-dragon, sitting in an idyllic landscape marked by a thoroughly fucked up goblin fortress, in an magic underground Dungeon, on a planet ruled by warring Gods.


It was amazing how much had changed in a week. "I was planning on taking this gorgeous High Elf girl I know somewhere private…wine her, dine her, y'know, the usual." He winked, projecting confidence as Rose's cheeks darkened to match her namesake. "And once she's…satisfied, I have some smithing to do. But aside from that…" He chuckled. "Sleep. I'm definitely going to be getting a lot of sleep. I have a feeling it's going to be another long week."

 

[Sahqoreyth]

Chapter 7: Spell-Breaking Fists, Two Steamy Trysts, and a Dragon's Cheesy Bliss



Somewhere in the Skies North of Primus​

Rose Valcrest was clinging to him. This would have been an extremely pleasant sensation, if she wasn't also shivering in fear. Drake had pictured this going more like it had in How to Train Your Dragon, but alas, there was no stirring instrumental string music, flying through clouds made one unpleasantly damp, and Rose was too terrified to open her eyes for very long.


"Are we there yet…?" She asked for the eighth time since they'd taken off, just five minutes earlier.


Drake guided Falkor higher, and she clung to him tighter, then, with their new mental bond that, most of the time, did not even require words he had the dragon find a warm breeze, and just glide for a while. "Rose." Him saying her name made her look up from where she'd buried her head against him. "You should see this. Not many people get to." The view, of course, was spectacular. Even more so than it would've been on Earth, since the leylines lit up the clouds with a whole rainbow of colors, not just gold.


"I-I'm fine…I'm just…really not meant for flying." She murmured, trying to curl up again, but he didn't let her.


"I'm not going to let you fall. Falkor won't either. Just look, please? For me?" She made a face at him, but sighed and carefully turned around in the new saddle they'd gotten that could safely seat two people. The man who'd made it had been terrified of Falkor at first, but like everyone else, eventually calmed down.


The dragon had been very patient with the people of Arcadia, but seeing them so terrified of him, did hurt his feelings. He was used to people liking his Goldendoodle face, but now he had fangs and claws and wings. Thus, Drake wanted to get them away from Primus for the weekend. Apparently, Galdurath had a forge up in Eldarheim that Laurelin had said Drake could use, so long as he kept it orderly, and she was ecstatic to actually meet Rose. Rose, for her part, still hadn't fully processed that she was going to meet and stay with a Goddess, since she'd immediately disliked flying, and fear had dominated her thoughts.





Even now, despite facing forward in the saddle, she was covering her eyes. Gently, Drake wrapped his arms around her, and had her lean back against him, but she was stiff as a board with fear. "Don't think about the ground, just take in some fresh non-city air…and enjoy that view."


Slowly, she raised her head, and then looked back down, tiny hands covering her face. "Nopenopenope. Too high. I can't, Drake, I'll fall or puke or…"


"I'm fine with you puking on me, Rose…I just want you to see this. Just take a deep breath, lean back, and take it all in." She leaned back against him, but kept her eyes covered. Very gently, he took her hands in his, and then whispered in her ear. "Seriously, you're going to regret not seeing this…"


Slowly, hesitantly, she peeked out, and then all at once her eyes went wide. "Oh…"


Falkor looked back at her, and smirked knowingly as he spoke to her. "I will not let you fall." She smiled at him and patted his neck, eyes wide at the kingdom of colored clouds before them.
"Alright…" She admitted, "Maybe flying isn't that bad. This is…wow."


Drake smirked knowingly as well, his expression mirroring his dragon's. He kinda wanted to yank her off the saddle and fly with her himself, but the poor girl was still shaken. Maybe on the ride back, after she and Falkor had gotten in some practice on their own, while he punched through his mountain of ores. He'd offered smithing upgrades to both classes upon finally exiting the Wallow, but Class One had claimed they were once again rivals, and just left. Everyone in Class Seven though, except for Leif, had been more than happy to have the overpowered Monk Blacksmith have a look at their stuff, especially when they heard he'd be doing his forging in Eldarheim.





"You think this is a view…just wait until you see Eldarheim…" He nudged Falkor again, and his scaly friend brought them down slowly without so much as a bump as his large white wings carved through the air, and once again, Drake smirked as he heard Rose gasp in awe. Leylines swirled around the magnificent white stone fortress, above which was the best view of the rainbow colored nebula on the entire planet.


Rose leaned back against Drake, seemingly more at ease. "It…feels like I've been here before, somehow…but I definitely haven't…"


Drake chuckled. "Not in this life, no…but in past ones, probably. All Arcadian souls come here to be reborn, as I understand it."


Rose glanced back at him, cheeks darkening slightly. "If I fell in one of our battles…would you find my soul again? Would you wait for me?"


Drake nuzzled her. "You're not going to fall. But if you did…I'd carry you here myself…and figure out where you were reborn. Then, I'd just have to wait a decade or two…but yes. I would try finding you again."
Rose waited a beat, then smirked and said, "Even if I came back as a guy?"


Drake pondered for a moment, then nodded. "I don't know if I could still be as…y'know, romantically attracted…I could try, I guess…but we would absolutely be best friends. I'd teach you my Monk ways." He smirked, as that made her giggle.





Rose seemed properly in awe as Falkor landed within the fortress's curtain wall, that extended quite far behind it, several acres at least, and had been the backdrop for the family photos Drake had seen of the Gods, and a young Dagorion the last time he'd been here. Drake removed the saddle from Falkor and chatted with him about how they could make it more comfortable for him. Then, he turned, as he heard Rose gasp again. Striding across the idyllic green fields towards them was the Goddess Laurelin, radiant and beautiful as ever, once more in her blue, white, and golden dress that seemed to be her casual default outfit.
Rose, understandably, panicked, and tried to scurry behind Falkor, but Drake snagged her hand before she could. "You look fantastic. Just talk to her like anyone else."


"But she's Not anyone else!" Rose hissed.


Laurelin was smirking lightly, obviously hearing them, as she strode closer. "Welcome back, my Hero. And this must be the Rose that has so captivated you. Be welcome here, Rose Valcrest. I've had the pleasure of hosting many members of your family over the years."





Years of training took over, as Rose bowed, deeply. "I-It's an honor, Goddess Laurelin. I-I… I'm sorry, it's just… a lot."


Laurelin nodded in understanding, but moved forward to take Rose's hands in hers. "I understand, child. There have been many firsts, this day. First flight, first meeting with a Deity…but you are very welcome in this place. Be at ease." And with a little divine calming, she was. With a teasing smile to Drake, she said, "You told me she was lovely, but I do believe you undersold her, Drake."


Drake shrugged, then smoothly added, "I haven't the words in Common or Dovah Zul to accurately describe her…but I did translate some Elvish before we left…" He met Rose's eyes then, and in her people's tongue, compared her beauty to the rainbow nebula above them. Her cheeks darkened, which was what he was after.


"Y-you're both too kind…" Rose managed, very close to just fainting from…all of it.


Laurelin smiled at them. "You two must be hungry. My Galdurath will be joining us tonight. I've made a feast for you two, I do hope you'll enjoy it."


Rose blinked several times, in disbelief. The Goddess of her world…made dinner for her. And her boyfriend. And her God husband, Lord of Magic and architect of the very leylines that swirled above them even now, would be joining them. She gulped, and took Drake's hand again. Seeing Rose was having a moment, Drake said, "Thank you, Goddess. I have some food from our Class in the Bag of Holding you should both try, if it pleases you. I know my peers would flip to hear how the Gods of their people liked their cooking."


Laurelin chuckled. "Galdurath may not eat much…he rarely does these days, but I will sample them. Come. I'll show you to your room for the weekend, and let you settle in before we dine. Everything should be ready, by then."





Rose was still awestruck, so much so that until they made their way into the God's living area, further increasing her awe, she didn't realize the Goddess had said 'room', as in one for both of them, until they entered, and she left them alone. The room was very much a spare, though not a speck of dust covered it. A bookcase with a comfortable chair was in one corner, as well as a desk that looked to have been barely, if ever, used. The bed was wide and ornate, and more than large enough for two teenagers to sleep separately and comfortably.


Drake, oblivious to Rose's darkening cheeks, sighed, and tossed his school jacket on the desk chair, and then changed into his 'monk armor', completely heedless of Rose's presence. His undergarments were rather long and baggy though, practically shorts themselves, so he didn't think it mattered. He stretched his limbs then, with satisfying cracks. The trip over had taken about two hours, most of which had been spent tensely trying to get Rose to chill. Turning to glance at her, he blinked. "I can uhh…use the bathroom, if you want to change."


Rose, still dazed by the divine hospitality, had just let herself be led into the room. She'd barely taken in the bookshelves, the desk, the pristine surroundings, before her gaze landed on the bed. She hadn't even noticed him change. She blinked. Once. Twice. Then the realization hit like a thunderbolt. "The bed!" Rose squeaked, which caused Drake to chucklesnort. She coughed, and then composed herself, cheeks still crimson as her namesake. "There's…only one bed, Drake…how…how are we to sleep?"


Drake raised an eyebrow. "Well, usually one lies down, pulls up the covers, and then…drifts off to dreamland. So…like we usually do?"





"Wh- bu- it's…not proper!" She said, confused by his nonchalant attitude.


He shrugged, but let the hurt show on his face. "Look, Rose, I wasn't intending to uhh…do anything…I mean it's more than big enough for us to never touch…if that's what you want. I think uhh…the Goddess assumed we were further along than we are, in that regard." His own cheeks started burning, but he shook his head, and regained his composure. "I can get a different room if yo-"


"No!" She said abruptly, cheeks somehow turning even more crimson. "It's fine, it's just…I've never…slept with a boy before…"


Drake smirked, and nodded, walking over to her. He took her hands again. "If all you desire is sleep, then that's all we'll do. I have no expectations…but…if you're as serious about…this…as I am, we are going to have to get used to sleeping next to each other." He leaned in and kissed her cheek. "Whatever makes you most comfortable, even if that means me on the edge of my side, with no blankets, that's what I'll do."
Rose smirked up at him. "I guess I could share some blankets…"


Drake smirked back at her. "How generous…I'm going to use the bathroom now. You should get ready." She nodded, and he went to do his business. The bathroom was not unlike those at the Academy, with a shower, sink, and magic toilet. He went extra slowly, since he knew how women got when it came to changing, but after eight minutes by his count, he knocked on the door to the room. "Are uhh…are you ready, Rose?"


"Yes. You can come out." She answered.





Drake emerged to see Rose in a dress that stole the words from his mouth for a moment and made his eyes widen. Her dress this time was green and gold, but in the style of the one she'd worn on their dinner date. Entirely on purpose, judging by that pleased, coy smile of hers, she'd left herself unzipped in the back so she could tease him, and push the cleavage on display even higher. "Zip me up?" She asked innocently, and Drake nodded, once his brain started processing again.


Rose turned to face him once he had, and like a magnet he found his face drifting towards hers, that is, until Laurelin's voice reached them. "Drake! Rose! Everything is readyyy~"


Rose smirked, and put a finger on his lips. "To be continued, handsome." She left then, striding gracefully out the door without waiting for him. Their room got several degrees hotter, as Drake had to expel his inner heat again to keep from sweating. It seemed someone had, within eight minutes, found her confidence again.





The dining hall of Eldarheim was nothing like the grand banquet halls of mortal kings. It was large, but there was no ostentatious display of golden cutlery, no endless stretch of tables meant to seat hundreds in cold, detached luxury. Instead, it was warm, filled with the comforting glow of arcane candles that lit the interior now that night had arrived. The long dining table, carved from a single ancient tree, bore the weight of the evening's feast with effortless grace. Runes glowed faintly along its edges, keeping the food warm and fresh no matter how much time passed. The air carried the scents of roasting meats, spiced wines, and the unmistakable aroma of fresh bread still steaming from the oven.


At the center of the table sat a golden loaf of braided bread, its crust glistening with some sort of oil. Small wooden bowls held an array of spreads meant to complement its flavor. There was spiced honey butter, thick and golden, infused with hints of cinnamon and orange zest. A deep violet preserve, made from elven berries, shimmered faintly under the candlelight. A third bowl contained a creamy mixture of roasted hazelnuts and mead, the scent alone enough to promise indulgence.


Beyond the bread lay the heartier dishes, each prepared with a level of care that could only come from hands that had mastered their craft. A haunch of meat, slow-roasted until the meat nearly fell apart at the touch, gleamed atop a large plate, where Galdurath, the God of magic himself, was slicing it into manageable but generous portions.


The side dishes were no less divine. A medley of root vegetables, coated in an elven maple reduction, sat beside a bowl of wild mushroom risotto. A fresh-picked green salad, dotted with slices of fruits and vegetables Drake didn't recognize, had been laced with ethereal nectar that heightened the natural sweetness of the dish.


At one end of the table, wooden boards displayed a selection of cheeses. Crystal goblets stood beside each plate, filled with wines and meads that had been crafted with the same care as the food. Some were deep and rich, dark reds meant to complement the weight of the roasted meats. Others were pale gold, light and floral, chosen to refresh the palate between bites. No matter the choice, the glass always remained at the perfect temperature, as though responding to the drinker's unspoken desire.


Desserts had been placed toward the far end of the table, awaiting those with enough room left to indulge. Small honey cakes, layered with spiced fig preserves, rested on delicate floating silver trays, their tops dusted with powdered sugar that caught the candlelight. Dark chocolate tarts sat beside them, their centers filled with enchanted raspberry liqueur that shifted subtly in taste with each bite. A final dish, ethereal citrus sorbet, had been served in bowls carved from ice that never melted, the cold sweetness cleansing the palate with each spoonful.





Drake and Rose stared, this time equal in their awe. "Wow…Goddess, you didn't have to…do all this…but thank you."


Laurelin waved a hand, already into her cup of…some sort of sparkling golden liquid. "It was no trouble Drake, really. Galdurath conjured most of it." Drake thanked him as well, and the white haired God of Magic inclined his head. Laurelin continued, "Besides, our Dagorion never brought a Lady home, and we've hosted Rose's parents before. Only the best, for our beloved guests."


Laurelin gestured to plates and silverware, and Drake took that to mean he would be getting his meal himself, and he did so without complaint, passing one to Rose as well. Once they were seated, Rose frowned at his choices, mostly cheese, a loaf of bread split in half, some root vegetables that looked vaguely like carrots, and what he knew to be popotoes, and a piece of the meaty haunch. "No salad? Not many vegetables either, I see."


Drake snorted lightly. "Muscles don't run well on leaves. I've never really cared for salads."


"Hmm." Rose said, still frowning at him. "Well, my people are primarily vegetarians, and even conjured meat is…frowned upon."





Drake groaned inwardly. That meant every time he ate with her family, it would be an unsatisfying meal of greens, grains, and probably fungi. He didn't care for eating leaves, since he considered that to be what actual food ate, grains were usually fine, when processed and cooked enough, and he disliked fungi on principle. Nothing that grew in damp, dark places was meant to be eaten by beings like him. "I'll manage on bread and popotoes, I suppose…but why would they have a problem with conjured meat?"


Galdurath cut in, mercifully saving him from the displeased expression on Rose's face. "Conjuring foodstuffs is not as simple as you assume, Drake Long. The food must come from somewhere, it is not simply magic reconfigured to look and taste like meat. But the Elves have long since mastered the art of harvesting it properly, and honoring the animal from whence it comes, as they did with our meal tonight. Rose is correct though, the Elves of Arcathis largely prefer vegetarian diets, and always have." Drake sighed softly, and, having finished cutting his piece of meat into smaller bites, shoved one in his mouth. His eyes widened, as it was, indeed, masterfully prepared. Seeing he wasn't going to contribute, Galdurath continued smoothly, "How is your Lord father, Rose? I'm afraid we find little time to speak of late."


It was Rose's turn to sigh. "He's quite busy. Arcadia's population grows ever larger, and the Triarchy is struggling to keep up. I'm sure he doesn't mean to ignore you, Lord Galdurath."





The God of Magic nodded. "Perhaps Drake could assist him in that. The people of his world were quite adept at storing massive quantities of information."


Drake blinked, and swallowed. "What…you mean like…a computer? You want me to craft a computer for the Triarchy?"


Galdurath gave him a knowing smirk. "It would go far in earning the gratitude of your Lady's father, and free up his time to spend with her. I believe her mother would be quite grateful as well."


Drake nodded. "A-alright…I'll uhh…I'll see what I can do. I've got almost two hundred Intelligence, how hard could crafting a computer be…" He was being sarcastic of course, since he knew full well he'd need to create memory banks to store a planet's worth of data, an entire network, as Rose's father would not and could not be the only one entering said data, along with all the other various components such a setup would require. "Y'know, if I didn't have to pay for every year of tuition, I could get that done a Lot faster…"


Galdurath's smirk widened. "You will manage, I'm sure. You've already acquired what you need for tuition and textbooks, and your Blacksmithing will give you more than enough currency."





Drake frowned. "I'm not sure…Blacksmithing is definitely fun, but…maybe, what was it called, Weaver? Maybe making clothes that everyone, mages and regular citizens alike can afford, would be better."


Galdurath shook his head. "If you want Gil, Blacksmithing will get you the most. The lower castes barely pay anything for their clothes, by comparison, because they barely make any money." Seeing Drake continue to frown, Galdurath smirked again. "Of course…if you feel that's not enough, you could aim to become an Omnicrafter."


Rose's eyes went wide, and Laurelin gave her husband a look. Noting their reactions, Drake said, "Omni…crafter? What would that entail, and why would I bother, if Blacksmithing makes the most?"


Galdurath went full Instructor, as he said, "Reaching level thirty in each of the crafting Jobs in our world, unlocks Omnicrafting, helpfully combining them all together into a single Job. They also have unique skills and can use pretty much every material they find to craft something that will raise their level. It would also greatly ease the difficulty of making things like microchips and complex wiring, which I will tell you now, are too finesse-focused to be classified under Blacksmithing. You'd have to rely on your tools, and your natural Dexterity. Not impossible, but not practical, either. Omnicrafting allows the crafter to make whatever their mind can conjure, provided they know and understand the components it's made of, and how they interact."


Drake pondered the God of Magic's words. They had merit. Being able to use everything from a Dungeon run, a Bag of Holding's worth of loot, was very appealing, and would solve his Gil problem. It would also allow him to give the lower castes things like free clothes and weapons to defend themselves, with materials he didn't need, but crafted anyway, to raise his level. And, of course, technology would also likely work much easier if he had the associated skills with Omnicrafting to create it with. There was a lot of wire rolling in his future, otherwise. By hand. "What other Jobs would I have to learn?"





Galdurath grinned, glad that Drake saw the sense in his idea. "In our world, Blacksmithing is the umbrella term for anything relating to metalwork, including armor, weapons, and things like jewelry and amulets. Carpenters, as you might expect, work with wood and glass, among other materials, to build things like furniture, windows, and even entire houses. Weavers are responsible for basic clothes, and clothes for high level Sorcerers, Wizards, and now Monks as well. Leatherworkers, as the name implies, create medium armor, bags, capes, cloaks, anything you would normally make with leather, obviously. Alchemists are the ones who make things like Mana and Health Potions, though that is by no means their only craft, it's what makes the most Gil, enough to easily rival any Blacksmith, and last but by no means least, our Culinarians, who cook our food and keep us fed." Galdurath's eyes were alight with possibility. "Given your unique Class, I believe you could find a way to make use of it, and your Ki, in all of these Jobs, and with your experience Buff, reaching thirty in each would be quite easy."


Drake nodded, seeing his point. "So…since my Blacksmithing is thirty five already, you're suggesting I raise all the others, and then raise my Omnicrafting from there."


Galdurath nodded, and sipped his wine. "I will also mention, leveling Omnicrafting gives Class experience equivalent to ranking up all six Jobs."


Drake smirked. That, was the kind of thing that made the grind worth it. That, combined with being able to use essentially everything to craft with, sold him on the time and effort it would no doubt take to achieve. "I'm in. I take it you have facilities here for each job?"


Galdurath nodded. "I do. My forge is what the Mortals would call an Omniforge. I was hoping you would take my suggestion, and make full use of it." His eyes were gleaming. "I am quite interested to see the things you will make, Drake Long."





Laurelin chimed in then, as the boys went back and forth. "You're forgetting the downsides, dear." Galdurath gave her a look.


Drake raised a brow. "Downsides? To being able to craft anything with every material I find?"


Laurelin nodded. "There's a reason most people don't do this, Drake. With your gifts you'll be able to reach the threshold quickly, but Omnicrafters…have been known to go mad from the sheer amount of things they can craft. Often, they'll try to craft one thing, and get lost in gathering the materials for another thing, a component usually, of what they ultimately, originally, wanted to make. It is a slow, time-consuming process…not to mention, quite difficult to manage in terms of backpack space."


At that, Rose giggled, and Drake reached under the table, where he'd stored the Bag of Holding once they sat down. "Laurelin, Galdurath, I'd like to show you the first of my many inventions. It's going to revolutionize Adventuring, and things like bag space."





Galdurath's eyes went wide, as he set his goblet down, and in a flash of magic sparkles, appeared next to Drake. A grin cracked his visage. "Is…is this what I think it is?"


Drake nodded. "Vincent Kei, my Enchanter roommate, helped me craft it. Behold. The Bag of Holding. Mark one."


Galdurath laughed, and clapped his hands once, clearly quite amused. With another flash, he returned to his seat, and smirked at his wife. "Not yet even an Omnicrafter, and he's already toying with Enchantments, spatial magic, and runes." Laurelin just sighed, knowing she'd lost this argument.


Drake smirked at Galdurath. "I'm surprised you didn't make one already."


The God of Magic chuckled. "My bag is actually a pocket plane only I can access, so…I never needed one. I always thought making one would be too expensive for Mortals, but…Vincent Kei, you said?" Drake nodded. "The House of Kei has produced many great minds in their lineage. I'm not surprised you managed to make something so revolutionary with such an ally. With your Omnicrafting and his Enchanting and magical skills…I daresay the two of you will revolutionize society within a year or two."





Drake looked to Laurelin then. "I know you're worried, but…what you're describing doesn't sound that much more complex than what I dealt with in Earth's video games. I won't go insane and get lost in crafting menus, I promise."


Laurelin sighed again, but she was clearly amused by Galdurath and Drake's shared nerdiness. "I should hope not." She said, giving Galdurath a look, and he straightened up, as if he had an inkling about what subject the Goddess was about to shift to. With his growing charisma, Drake noticed she had that tone, and had a feeling this was the true purpose of inviting him 'home' for the weekend. "We will…require your aid, sometimes, in the days to come, Drake. You see…something miraculous has happened. Quite recently. Something that has not occurred since…the dawn of Arcadia." Rose's eyes went wide, as she guessed Laurelin's next words correctly, "We're expecting another little one, soon. And when the time comes, and we become busy, we'd like you to babysit, if you're willing."


Drake was all smiles, as Rose went from quiet and shy in the company of Gods, to quiet and wide eyed with poorly hidden dread. "Congratulations!" He said, grinning, and internally wondering if his wingmanning efforts had paid off. "How do baby Gods even work? Do they grow as slow as Humans? What will they be the God of? Oh, and yes, of course, I'll gladly watch the little one. I've always been pretty good with kids."


Laurelin smiled at his reaction. "They grow…fairly quickly, though it depends on their power, and what they develop an affinity for…we won't know what she prefers, until she joins us."


Drake chuckled. "A tiny little Goddess girl…I can't wait. If she's as benevolent as her mother, Arcadia will be quite blessed."





Rose's stomach twisted. The last time a child of the gods was born, Arcadia suffered centuries of war and ruin. She swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry. Her thoughts raced faster than she could control. Was this the start of it all over again? Was history doomed to repeat itself? At that point, she spoke, her quiet tone a stark contrast to the smiles and good vibes. "Is…is that a good idea, Goddess? I…I don't want to be rude but…your last offspring…umm…plunged the world into war and darkness…and turned millions of us into abominations of what we once were…I just…"


Gadurath nodded his head, and Laurelin's face fell, but she hid her sadness quickly. They'd both expected this reaction, from a natural born Arcadian. "We will be carefully raising our daughter, young Rose, worry not. We…we will not make the same mistakes that we did with Dagorion…"


Rose was shaking slightly, and Drake tried to put a comforting hand on her, but she pulled away. This was too monumental. Too potentially world-shattering to just hand wave. "I…I would never blame the two of you for Dagorath's choices…w-with respect, I'm sure you raised him closely as well…and he…turned out the way he did anyway. I just…is this a good idea? What if, despite everything, she decides to turn evil as well? I…I don't think our world can handle two dark Gods."


Laurelin spoke this time. "Rose…the power that corrupted my son…I know what it is. I know from whence it comes…and I have every intention of, some day, saving him from it. It will be…a long, arduous road to redemption, if such a thing can even be earned from all the lives and people he has brutalized, but…it is possible to save him. And…I believe his sister will be a key part in bringing him back to the Light." Laurelin reached for her goblet, swirling the golden liquid inside. When she spoke, her voice was soft but steady. "I understand why you feel this way, Rose. I do. But this child is not my son. She is her own soul, with her own path." She met Rose's gaze, her golden eyes shimmering. "I will not let history repeat itself. That is my vow."


Rose nodded, but then said quietly, "I…I think I'm done eating. I…uhh…I need a minute to…process this. Please excuse me, Lady of Life, Lord of Magic…the meal was excellent."





Once Rose left, Drake spoke, as Laurelin sipped her drink but failed to hide the tears rolling down her face. "I can speak with her, if-"


Galdurath shook his head. "It is better to let her cope on her own for now, Drake Long. That reaction…" He reached out and squeezed his wife's hand. "It's…what we expected. You see, Drake…the people of Arcadia have…suffered unimaginable trauma from Dagorion's actions…and this trauma has extended across many of their lives, and reincarnations. That kind of trauma...lingers. Rose is no exception, but you, are. You have not fallen to the fangs of a Monster, or the flames of a Dragon. You have not reincarnated lifetime after lifetime, to end up facing, potentially, multiple Demon Lord reigns and the tragedy they bring. She has. All of our world's children have…and this response is only to be expected.."


"It still hurts, though…" Laurelin quietly added. That settled it, for Drake.


"That's no excuse to blame the little one who hasn't even been born yet!" He argued. "She deserves the chance to make her own path, whether she chooses the light, or the darkness. I know…somewhat, the horrors of Dagorath. I fought a Goblin King empowered by a shard of one of his artifacts. It was terrifying…and not even close to the real deal, from what Guild Master Solus told me. If Rose and her people are ever going to forgive him, they need to overcome their fear…because fear seems to be what his spawn are after."


Drake had a feeling that fear, and causing it, was one of the motivating forces for monsters. They didn't eat, they barely needed sleep, they didn't create, or deviate, or progress. They just existed, under the rule of the strongest monster, until they were slain, so what then, did they live for? What made abominations like the goblin race grin and laugh that awful, nightmare-inducing laugh? Brutality. Pain. And the fear of what the monsters in the dark would do to those clinging to the light. That's why they raped and tortured and killed. That was why they'd laughed when they saw his own brutality to their own kin, wrongly assuming he would one day become like them.





"You have divined accurately what spurs my son's creations, and from just one delve into a Dungeon, Drake Long. I am impressed. You are correct, for though it varies, inspiring fear, despair, and reveling in carnage and chaos are what the spawn of Dagorath love most. But I know, in the depths of my soul…our daughter will abhor this. As we do."


Drake stood, then. "I believe you. I'll talk with Rose later, Goddess. Don't worry…she's smart, and brave. She'll overcome her trauma…with a little rationality." His words got a smile, but he could tell Rose had really hurt her. "Anyways…I'm off to this…Omniforge. Feel free to try Class Seven's cooking, Goddess." He said, laying out a small portion of the meals and treats that they hadn't yet needed in the Wallow.


Dagorath rose as well, gesturing to the food as Drake shouldered his Bag of Holding. "I will join you, and instruct you on how to begin leveling your other Jobs." He smiled at Laurelin, murmured something to her, and then guided Drake through his home with long, graceful steps.





Galdurath's Omniforge was unlike anything Drake had ever seen. Situated deep within Eldarheim, it occupied a grand chamber that seemed to stretch up into infinity. Smooth walls of pristine white stone surrounded the forge, interwoven with veins of softly glowing magic, casting the entire space in shifting hues of blue, violet, and green.


At its center stood the forge itself, a pool of impossibly white lava surrounded by a pagoda of that same white stone, at the center of which was a massive anvil that even then was humming with magic power from the runes carved into it. Indeed, as the forge's master entered, many parts of it started burning to life, as if hopeful to be used by the God of Magic.


Surrounding the actual forge were workstations dedicated to each crafting discipline. A long, sturdy bench covered in measuring tools and an ornately crafted saw awaited woodworking, accompanied by stacks of pristine lumber, from common oak to rare, enchanted ebony, with each stack carefully labeled and organized. Another station held a broad loom, surrounded by neatly arranged bolts of cloth, spools of thread, and delicate needles, as well as a chair that seemed too comfy and out of place for it to be Galdurath's, which meant it was likely his wife's. To the right, a leatherworking station awaited, filled with leather strips, racks of finely tanned hides, soft pelts, and precision tools for shaping and sewing leather with unmatched accuracy.


Further along stood the alchemy table, laden with rows of glass vials, jars of rare ingredients, and bubbling cauldrons over burners that glowed with an unwavering heat. Probably for sanitary reasons, the Culinarian station was not present in the Omniforge. The forge itself was incredible, a tangible aura of divine power permeated the very air. It felt as though Galdurath himself had woven his essence into every tool and machine, and it made Drake a bit awed as he realized the God of Magic must have used this space for eons.





Very quickly, as Galdurath watched him, he realized that the tools the God of Magic used in his own Omnicrafting were way, way beyond his skill level. Even the blacksmithing hammer, he'd barely been able to even lift. Thus, he stuck with his fists. He also made an executive decision to use the ore he had on hand first, to make starter level tools for the other jobs. A very basic saw, several sewing needles, a round knife specifically for leather, an alembic for potion crafting, and a small frying pan.


At that point, Galdurath chimed in. "I notice you don't make use of any secondary tools in your crafting."


Drake raised an eyebrow. "Secondary…? Ahh. Right. If the Dimensional Pattern holds, they would be…a file, claw hammer, spinning wheel, awl, mortar, and kitchen knife right?"


Galdurath smirked lightly, and nodded. "I'm sure you've noticed the other patterns we've drawn on for Arcadia, not least of which is our currency. I can sense the question burning in your mind. Just ask."


Drake chuckled, as he began punching the mithril he had heated and mixed with coal into an ingot. "Chocobos…horsebirds…are they a thing too?"





Galdurath's chuckle echoed through the Omniforge. "They exist, yes…but the people of Arcadia see them as too wild and skittish to be mounts. They are among the fastest runners on the planet though, and some even manage flight, if they become high leveled."


Drake smirked, and moved on to the next ingot. "I was thinking of taming one for Rose…so she can keep up with Falkor and I. Carrying both of us won't go well in combat, and he'll be more useful if we can surprise our enemies with my own ability to fly as well."


Galdurath chuckled lightly again. "I see you're living up to the legacy of Dragon Riders already, planning ahead and attacking in conjunction with your partner. But…I believe Rose would be better served by an Alicorn. She's already befriended one, you know."


Drake paused, sweating in the intense heat of the white magma surrounding the Blacksmithing station. His top was off again, and his firebending kept him as protected as any apron. "Oh? Perhaps I could convince it to ally with her…what do Alicorns like?"


Galdurath continued to smirk, his handsome features almost sinisterly lit by the lava as he said, "Magic items. Especially those that boost their pool of magic."





Drake nodded, his course clear then. First, he imbued the metalwork for his classmates with the orichalcum he'd found. Garret was getting Varian's old, but now improved sword, and Drake melted down the Malblin' Tyrant's shackles with some intense firebending, and careful control over Galdurath's weird but very intense white lava. From the shackles, he crafted epic tier black metal gauntlets that would give their attacks leeching properties, or enhance those properties if other pieces of gear gave it to them already. Lyria's staff also got some orichalcum, which gave it even more space for high tier spells to be stored.


Next, were the horns, which Galdurath helped him turn into weapons. Continuing with the shameless ripping off of Earth's various video games and anime, he went full Assassin's Creed, and turned the tips of the horns, mixed with some of his spare platinum coins and orichalcum, into a pair of Hidden Blades that would leech health from whatever they stabbed, and attached nicely to his wrists underneath his gauntlets. They promised to make his Dragon's Fangs hurt quite a lot. Galdurath had, quite generously, allowed him to use some of his runite bars, since they were just collecting dust in his care, and with those, he upgraded Rose's staff, also with orichalcum, making it the highest tier an item could be, according to the God of Magic. Next he upgraded his own items, increasing the Mirror Image Mirror's tier to now make eight copies of him. He'd also enhanced the latest of his rings, purchased from one of the vendors by the Academy. The Ring of the Elemental Warrior just straight up boosted his elemental attacks by twenty five percent. When he'd infused it with runite and made it an epic tier item, that bonus had risen to sixty.


By the time he Fist Smithed his way through the upgrades, his blacksmithing had reached level eighty thanks largely in part to the quality of the tools and materials he had available. The hour was late, but he and Galdurath were having quite a lot of fun. The God of Magic had finally realized Drake was the same kind of nerd he had once been, and after sharing some C&W and D&D stories, Drake felt confident asking him for a favor. Not another boon, something more practical, but that would prove invaluable to him, and his party. "I was wondering, Galdurath, if you might consider sparring with me tomorrow. I…have a theory about punching through spells to nullify them…and if it works on yours, it'll probably work on anyone's. Including Dungeon Bosses."


That got another chuckle from the Lord of Magic. "That's…too interesting not to see you attempt, Drake. I do have things to attend to in Primus, but I can fit in a sparring session, sure." With that, he cast a spell that conjured an arcane clock, and winced. "It seems we've spent quite a long time crafting…but this was…fun."


Drake nodded in full agreement. "It really was. Once my Omnicrafting gets to a worthy level, I'd love combining our talents on some truly Legendary tier items. But I should be getting to bed…" Rose was either already asleep, or would not be pleased that he'd avoided coming back for so long. He bid Galdurath a good evening, as he went to check on Laurelin, for it seemed the Gods didn't really need to rest much, if at all.





Drake managed to find his way back to the room they'd been given, and Rose was indeed asleep. He creeped into the bathroom, waterbended some liquid from the faucets, and somewhat quietly wiped the sweat from his body, and clothes. He also washed and dried them, and while he did not use soap, it did preserve their cleanliness enough to sleep in for the night, at least. When he finally emerged, thinking he'd been quiet enough, Rose was awake, sleepy eyed, but happy to see him. She patted the bed beside her, and Drake joined her, blinking as she just cuddled right up to him, eyes closed again, a slight smile on her face as her tiny hand ran over his still bare chest. "You were crafting all that time?" She asked quietly.


He rumbled an affirmative. "Galdurath helped me." He let out a long yawn, and then said, "I got everyone's stuff done, smelted all the ores into ingots…including your staff. It's Legendary, now by the way."
Rose sat up, her sleepy eyes wide. "Drake, that's…oh wow, you look tired…did you use all your magic? You must have, if you made Legendary items…"


Drake brought up his status, and blinked. It was refilling, slowly but surely, but he had definitely been near depleting his magic pool entirely. "It seems I did…" He gave her a tired smile, though. "If it means you guys are protected in the Dungeons though…I'd say it's worth a little exhaustion."





She pouted at him. "Not too exhausted, I hope…I was waiting so long for you, I fell asleep…" She climbed atop him and straddled him then, and suddenly, he felt wide awake, for some reason. Probably the night gown she was in, which appeared to be the only thing covering her body at the moment. "I did say we'd continue…"


He'd never be too tired to make out with her, and thus, resume they did. He only paused when an idea entered his head, and after asking her if she minded if he kissed her elsewhere, Drake drew on his knowledge from another world to begin lubricating the gates to Paradise until the hinges squealed open with a divine deluge of Mana straight from Heaven. Rose fell asleep quickly, after that, and Drake opted to use his healing trance, as he estimated he had about four hours until it was morning.


Four hours passed quickly, and he spent most of them in that semi-aware state marveling at the downright gorgeous elf girl who was cuddled up next to him. When she stirred awake, he opened one eye, and caught her staring at him, which made her cheeks darken. Drake stretched, ending his trance, feeling refreshed. "How are you feeling?"


Rose's cheeks turned darker red, and he could feel her heartbeat increase. "G-great, actually…my head hasn't been this clear in a while." That tracked, and Drake smirked at her knowingly. "Could umm…could we do that again?"





Mostly for fun, he rolled atop her, still smirking, and kissed her between his speech pauses. "Any time…any where…my lips are at your service." He said, confidently. Then, he blinked, realizing too late that certain things were rising with the dawn, and in response to their current position.


It was Rose's turn to smirk, as her tiny elven hands, naturally suited to tending the tall, wooden scions of nature, went exploring. "Is this at my service too?" She teased.


Drake didn't back down, though he didn't advance, either. Her father had told him to make her happy, but if there was sheathing of certain swords in certain scabbards before certain wedding ceremonies he had a feeling the Archsorcerer would reduce him to ash. His actions had pushed the boundary of that mandate, but no lines had, technically, been crossed yet. "If you want it to be." He answered, teasing her right back.


Before her green thumbs could get to work, Laurelin's voice saved them from incurring the wrath of the Archsorcerer. "Kiiids! Breakfast is ready!"


Drake exhaled, forcing his mind, if not his body, to calm the fuck down. "To be continued…" He murmured to Rose, giving her a lingering kiss, before he reluctantly pulled away from her, and strode into the bathroom.





He breathed deeply once he was alone again, trying to regain control of his stupid, eager, teen body as he turned the shower on. Then, the door opened right as his pants fell to the floor. He was about to protest Rose entering with him while he was completely exposed, but then, he realized she was as well. And his brain stopped working. She said something about his surname being accurate as she walked up to him, her eyes unabashedly running over his birthday suit, but Drake couldn't hear very well in that moment, as he was burning the image of Perfection into his brain for all of time.


"Drake…?"


Drake snapped back to reality at the sound of his name. "Oh, uhh, wh-what uhh, what did you need, Rose?"


She chuckled at him. "I said…would you like to help me wash my back?"


Heat rushed to Drake's cheeks at the offer. "U-uhh, your uhh, your father would absolutely murder me if I did…"


Rose pouted at him. "My father isn't here…and if you're as serious about this as you were last night…we should get used to showering together." The pout shifted to a smirk.


Drake swallowed hard, searching for a witty reply, but found none. His own words, now turned against him, left him completely at her mercy.





Ten minutes later, with the both of them now much more intimately acquainted with the other's body, the two teens descended to the kitchen again, hand in hand, and it seemed Rose had put off thinking about the God's news entirely, right until they reached the kitchen, at which point her expression sobered.


As they entered the kitchen, Rose hesitated briefly, her grip on Drake's hand tightening. Laurelin and Galdurath were already there, seated at the table in quiet conversation. Laurelin looked up, her golden eyes softening with understanding as she met Rose's gaze. Galdurath offered a gentle, welcoming nod, maintaining his calm demeanor. Rose managed a small, tentative smile, though her eyes betrayed her lingering unease. She took a steadying breath, offering a polite greeting as she moved closer to the table.


"Good morning," Laurelin said gently, her voice warm and reassuring. "I hope you both rested well."


Rose nodded quietly. "We did, thank you."





Galdurath glanced at Drake, his expression thoughtful. "Drake, after breakfast, we should begin your training. This…Monk Ki idea of yours does have the potential to unravel spells, but it will need refinement."
Drake smiled, somewhat relieved by the neutral topic. "Of course, Galdurath. I'd appreciate your feedback."


Laurelin looked kindly at Rose. "And Rose, whenever you're ready, we can speak more about…everything."


Rose took another deep breath, nodding slowly. "I…would appreciate that, Goddess. Thank you."


The room grew comfortably silent as the awkwardness lessened, slightly. Then, Laurelin spoke again. "Oh, Drake, Galdurath mentioned you wished to begin cooking, so I left some of the easier things, eggs, toast, bacon, for you to handle." Drake nodded, and got to it, as those were all things he'd actually made before. Cooking an egg wasn't exactly computer science, and his heightened dexterity and senses actually helped. He could tell the moment they were ready to be flipped just by sight and sound, and he had the speed to move them before they burned.





Breakfast proceeded quietly, the soft clinking of utensils against plates filling the comfortable silence as Rose helped the Goddess set the table. Laurelin eventually broke the silence, her voice gentle as she addressed Rose. "I understand this news must weigh heavily on you. If you have questions or fears, please share them. We're here for you."


Rose hesitated, setting down the fork in her hand carefully. "I know your intentions are good," She began, her voice soft but steady. "But Arcadia has suffered greatly from the actions of a Divine child before. How can we be certain this time will be different?"


Galdurath met Rose's gaze calmly from where he sat, sipping a steaming beverage that smelled like coffee. "You can't be certain, but you can have faith in our vigilance and in your own strength. We will not allow the past to repeat itself."


Laurelin reached out gently, placing her hand over Rose's. "This child will be raised with love, wisdom, and guidance. And unlike before, we will have support from remarkable individuals like you and Drake. We won't be alone."


Rose's expression softened as she looked between the two Gods. The enormity of all they'd done for not just her people, but the entire planet, for millennia weighed on her. "I want to believe you," She admitted, her eyes glistening with restrained emotion. "I truly do. ...I'll do my best to have faith." She said quietly, offering a small but genuine smile.


Laurelin smiled warmly in return. "That's all we could ever ask."





By that point, the food was done, cooked with remarkable skill, likely because he did, technically, know how to make such things already, he just hadn't done so in Arcadia until now. Rose blinked at her scrambled eggs. "Oh…I've…never seen eggs prepared this way." She smirked up at Drake. "Is this an Earth thing?"


Drake gave her a wink and a nod, and he added a few shakes of salt over them. "I make mine with cheese, too."


"You do!" Laurelin said, seemingly delighted as she took a bite. "Mmmm. That…is a novel idea Drake. And I believe the more ingredients you use, the experience you'll gain." Hearing this, even Galdurath took a bite, and gave a nod of satisfaction.


Drake grinned at his own plate. "Interesting. I'll definitely remember that for later…" Rose raised an eyebrow at him, and Drake elaborated. "My people, Americans…we weren't great at much, but when it came to food…we were masters at combining multiple ingredients. Even those that perhaps should never have been combined at all…" He fully intended to bring pizza to this world that, apparently, did not have an equivalent somehow, but he would not resurrect the blasphemy of adding pineapple to it. He also made a choice then, that if he did start introducing new foods, they'd be primarily healthy ones. That meant frying things was out.


Laurelin smirked at him. "You know, starting a McDrake's chain could solve your currency woes quite easily."


Drake chuckled, and Galdurath seemed amused as well. "The world shall tremble before my golden arches. That's not actually a bad idea…but I was thinking of bringing Pizza first."





Laurelin's eyes lit up. "Oooh…I do recall it looking quite good." She was practically drooling, and Drake wondered if this was a God pregnancy thing, or if Laurelin was just a foodie.


Drake nodded. "I mean, it was a staple of students around our age, and there'd be no better place to sell it than the Academy. I wonder how high level I'd have to be to even make one…"


Laurelin smiled at him. "I can prepare the ingredients, once Galdurath leaves for Primus. You should work on your culinary skills while Rose and I are out."


Rose blinked, quietly nomming her cheesy scrambled eggs with a controlled amount of gusto. "Are…we going somewhere, Goddess?"


Laurelin blinked as well. "Did Drake not mention it?"


Drake coughed, loudly, "We uhh…it was pretty late when I got back, so. Anyway." He dove into his Bag of Holding as Laurelin and Galdurath looked between the two teenagers. Body language spoke volumes, and their charisma level was quite literally God tier.





It was obvious, as Drake retrieved her items, how close they were sitting, the way they looked at each other. If they hadn't yet, they were going to soon. Laurelin gave her husband a look, and he nodded. He could educate the young monk in the Arcadian methods and norms of courtship after or during their sparring session.


Rose seemed delighted by her staff, but her eyes widened when Drake brought out armor fitted for a unicorn. Or the flying variant. "I haven't had time to make a saddle yet, Alicorns probably require really high level materials, but that'll be my next project, after I sharpen my cooking skills and reinvent la Pizza."


Rose's eyes were wide. "R-Runite Alicorn Barding!? No wonder you were so tired…I don't know if this is a good idea though…I was so bad with heights on Falkor…"


Drake smirked. "But then you got better. Just trust that Alicorn you befriended, and you'll be fine. And the Goddess will be there too, you won't fall."


"You don't have to ride her now, if you don't wish to, Rose." Laurelin added. "But I know she'd enjoy seeing a friend again. Alicorns are quite sociable. At the very least, the barding will be greatly appreciated, and she can don it and store it as easily as any Adventurer. Would it not ease your mind to know she is well defended?"





Rose tilted her head. "Wasn't the herd going to stay here?"


Laurelin nodded. "For a time…but Alicorns will not linger forever. I can teach you how to summon her, if she accepts you as her partner, and when you do have need of her, she'll be able to Teleport back to her herd quite easily. If she wants to."


Rose started gushing. "Ooh! But the Academy has stables, too! I could braid her mane!" She finished her eggs in a flash, and downed her orange juice, before eagerly standing. "I'm ready! Can we go? Can we?"


The other three sitting at the table shared an amused chuckle. Laurelin rose to her feet, and nodded. "Let me just set up Drake's ingredients…while I do that, you should put your armor on. Then we can go." Rose opened her status then, and Drake nommed his own breakfast, curious. Then, after pulling up her inventory and tapping her healing robes, she just manifested them on her body, and did the same with her staff, which appeared on her back. Finally, the barding also vanished into her inventory. She saw Drake staring, and raised an eyebrow at him.


"I didn't realize we could change clothes with our Status…I've been doing it manually this whole time."


Galdurath and Laurelin chuckled, and Rose tilted her head. "Ohh…is that why you took so long to show up for the Raiju fight?" He nodded, and she giggled at him. "Well, now you know. You'll never have to manually change again."





Seeing Drake was almost finished, Galdurath got to his feet, and headed out the windowed doors leading to the God's 'backyard'. "I shall await you outside, Drake, and we will begin our lesson."


Laurelin hummed behind the cooking area, and sighed. "Seems the tomato sauce is elsewhere. I'll be right back!~"


Left alone, the two teens immediately found their eyes drawn together. Rose was in his lap in an instant, forehead pressed into his as her cheeks darkened. "I'm going to have to find some way to thank you for this, Mr. Long."


"You can thank me by flying with Falkor and I sometime…but for now, I'll take a kiss." He didn't wait for her to lean in, but rather met her halfway. She pulled away slowly, and Drake was about to not let her, when he heard Laurelin's footsteps too. "Stay safe out there." He said, helping her back to her feet.


"I'll be just fine." Rose answered, smiling and fixing her hair. Laurelin confirmed for Drake that she had all the requirements for pizza, even pepperoni, or something that looked like pepperoni at least, and then the two departed.





Finishing his meal, he gathered their dishes and put them by the sink, before trotting outside to a happy roar from Falkor. "Heyyy bud." He said, giving him all the scritches. "I swear you get bigger every time I see you."


Falkor smirked at him. "After each time you see me, your level has risen. Silly Drake."


They chuckled, and then walked towards Galdurath, who had his staff out. A rainbow colored gem sat at the top, surrounded by a complex ever-moving series of golden, rune-inlaid pieces of metal. Runes had also been added down the thick shaft of the weapon, and each was now humming with power. "Watch this." Drake murmured to his dragon. "I'mma punch some spells into nonexistence."


Falkor blinked, and then smirked. "If anyone could…it would be you." He flapped a safe distance away, and curled up, paws casually atop each other as he watched the two.


"Are you ready to begin, Drake Long?" Galdurath called out, and Drake focused his power to his senses, before he called out an affirmative. "Very well then. Let the duel begin!" As before, a flag symbol appeared over his hand, bearing a pair of crossed swords, and Drake fell into his dragon stance, as he focused his Ki.





The concept he was attempting here was simple, in theory. Magic on Arcadia worked not all that differently from how it had in the numerous fantasy worlds Drake was familiar with, not least of which being, D&D. A magic user summoned or drew upon the world's natural magic, focused it, usually through a wand or a staff, wove it into a spell, with words or just sheer willpower, and then launched it, with their own personal pool of magic power. A new word, a concept in Dovah Zul, the tongue of dragons, or the knowledge of it at least, had entered his head the night before, when he realized that unmaking the items he'd crafted with the other newly acquired Jobs also gained him experience. He verbalized that knowledge now, as he raised his fists, and the air around him cracked with his Voice, "Kren!"


Galdurath started simple, by hurling a Fireball his way, and though the God of Magic had cast it, he hadn't raised the tier of magic it required. Drake ran, leapt, and then punched the Fireball, as his eyes easily found the central point of the woven magic, and he guided his fist to meet it. The flames dispersed in a circular wave of force, and Drake landed with a smirk. Galdurath raised an eyebrow at him, and then prepared another spell. Lightning crackled up his staff, and then out of his palm, a standard Lightning Bolt. Had Drake not been enhancing his senses, the intense plasma very much would have hit him, as its speed left no margin for error; he had just one chance to disrupt it, and yet he struck forward with his pointer and middle fingers this time, jabbing the plasma, and unraveling it with his focused Ki, empowered by his Shout. It dispersed into harmless sparks, and Drake took his stance again, confidently.


Galduarth was not irritated by this, but rather, fascinated. The spells came faster, then. No less than nine Magic Missiles fired from the God of Magic, as expected of a being whose level was, to Drake's eyes, classified as ???. He jabbed all of them, dispelling them before they could hit and deal their force damage. A Thunder Wave came next, and while it was harder to see, Drake's palm strike dispersed it before it ever hit. Shards of ice, stone, even a Meteor, all shattered before the Dispelling Fist of the monk.





It wasn't a perfect technique, though. Eventually, Galdurath loosed a Cone of Cold, and Drake realized it was simply too wide, the nexus of its weave too close to Galdurath, for him to poke into being dispelled. Other things, like acid, still very much hurt when he struck at them, and spells like Gust, or stronger variations, had weave-points that appeared and disappeared rapidly, before Drake could ever hit them, and since they stirred natural forces into action he was forced to use his bending to stop them. Things like Chromatic Orb still had their effects when shattered, and he had to dodge out of the way of them. Earth Tremor and Earthquake also similarly appeared and then vanished out of his reach, but eventually, Drake realized his gauntlets could help with reach. The next spell, and the last, was a powerful Blizzard, but Drake actually managed to punch its focal point before it even started with his Fists of Far Reach, at which point, Galdurath signaled the end of their training.


The God of Magic hadn't broken a sweat, and the gleam in his eye was not battle lust, but knowledge lust. They had tested a hypothesis, and found it credible. Galdurath appeared beside Drake in a flash of blue sparkles, looking very much like someone who'd discovered something. "I knew this Monk power…harnessing the body's natural energy, had potential but this…" He coughed, as he saw Drake's smirk, and composed himself. "I would see more of this…Ki manipulation. I'm quite eager to try it myself."


Drake's eyes widened, but he nodded. Quietly, he wondered what a God manipulating Ki would even look like. A frown crossed his face. "Just…be aware, Galdurath, there are different kinds of Ki. Our bodies, at least going by the running theories on Earth, generate positive and negative auras. We couldn't manipulate these on Earth, or if some of us could, they kept quiet about it, but here on Arcadia, it's different. Being a Monk is all about understanding the flow of your body's energy, and manipulating it. Like, for example, if I separate my Ki into positive and negative while Firebending…" He took a deep breath, centered his Ki in his stomach, spun his arms in opposing circles, and Galdurath watched with rapt attention, mouth slightly open, as lightning manifested at his fingertips, as the positive and negative flows met, at his fingertips, discharging a bolt of plasma equal to any Lightning Bolt.





Galdurath then raised a hand, and directed into the middle distance, where he wouldn't hit anything. As a being of immense power, the separated energy was visually manifested as it responded to his masterful control without needing to be centered first, he just willedpositive and negatively charged energy within himself to travel up his arm, and instead of his fingertips, Galdurath's mastery let him shoot it from his palm. He grinned as a terrifying large lightning bolt shot forth, leaving the air around them reeking of ozone. "That…was a lot cheaper to fire, in terms of magic used."

Drake nodded. "It's a lot easier to use one's own bodily energy than it is to summon it from the aether, shape it into a spell, and then fire it yourself. Just…be careful. Using it too much or too carelessly could unbalance your energy…and I dread to think of what that would look like, in a Deity."


Galdurath nodded, keeping his cool, but Drake could tell he'd gotten the Lord of Magic's mind racing with potential. "I will explore this new power carefully, with the meticulous procedure of one of your Earth's scientists, worry not." A smirk came over his handsome features then. "In exchange for this knowledge, I would give you some, in return. Namely, in regards to how one might properly court and romance a High Elf who is a Princess in all but title."





Drake blinked. That was a hell of a subject change, but one that very much had his attention. "A worthy trade, Lord of Magic. I'm listening."


Galdurath went into a detailed explanation of elven union customs that, while interesting, dragged on for a bit. Drake quietly summarized it in his head once Galdurath finished, making sure he understood, as this was important to him. On the surface, it wasn't all that different from what Earthlings did, or used to do. The elves used a physical display of tying two into one, but their medium was plant life, like vines, or flowers, and different mediums had different meanings. Helpfully, Galdurath informed him that first time unions typically had 'Nimloth' or white flowers.


Using the couple's magic, the binding would then be shaped by the officiating sage into a seed of whatever plant they used, and with some elaborating, Galdurath added that using Nimloth was traditional, while in more modern times, elven females had begun to pick different flora with different meanings. Rose being who she was, would almost assuredly be using the white ones, which did, to Drake's internal amusement, apparently form the seed of a tree. It was, in Fangorn at least, also seen as an identifying mark of a High Elven home, having a white tree outside it, in the general vicinity.


Vows were entirely spoken in Elvish, even for interracial unions, and the parents of both participants apparently joined them by the arch they were unified under, which was apparently grown with a spell. "Obviously, should things with you and the young Lady Valcrest go well, Laurelin and I would be joining you. In lieu of your family, I would compose your side of the gathering of the friends you make at the Academy. And…I believe that is everything. It's not especially complicated, but Vaelithar Valcrest will expect these norms to be followed."





Galdurath turned to leave, but then paused. "Ahh. One more thing…potentially awkward though it may be…you need to know." He faced Drake again. "Love and the making of it is…nowhere near as convoluted and strict as the norms on your Earth. However…one does not enter a…physically intimate relationship with one of the Triarch's daughters and then abandon them. Not if they wish to live a long life, if you take my meaning. My point is…be very sure of your choice before you and the young Lady give in to your teenage desires. I do not need the headache a failed union would bring upon me from the Archsorcerer, for he will hold myself and my wife accountable for your actions as well."


Drake nodded, eyes on the ground, as Galdurath finished explaining, and with that, the God of Magic vanished in a flash of arcane power. Drake returned to the kitchen then his thoughts heavy with the information dump he'd received as he went about setting up his pizza pie, and when Falkor mentally learned of what he was making, the tremors from his excited tail shook even the sturdy foundations of the divinely crafted dining area. He could no longer comfortably fit within the domicile, or parts of it anyway, so he laid his head in through the back doors, his eager, hopeful golden eyes juuuust visible to Drake from behind the dining table's edge.


Falkor thought he was being subtle, but it seemed the doggo-turned-dragon had forgotten that he now also possessed a golden pair of horns, which very much gave away that he was watching Drake, who found his antics hilarious. "I'll make you your own, Falkor." Drake finally said, "But you need to not ruin Laurelin's kitchen. Go outside, fly around, do some Ki manipulation practice of your own. I know you were watching us. By the time you're done, your food should be ready." Falkor groaned, but did as he was told, the promise of his own, whole, pizza was too good to pass up. No more crusts to gnaw on, no more pieces that went in a human mouth, before being tossed or spat to him, no, he would have one entirely to himself, which was quite literally a dream come true for him.





The first pizza was Drake-pan sized, which meant it would feed one person at most, or two blonde women who'd probably want more but never admit it. The second, Drake loaded with chopped meat. Sausage, venison, shredded chicken, and an unhealthy amount of cheese. That, was Falkor's, which Drake grabbed a slice of. It was a thin one though, and served as more of a taste test than anything. It also greatly boosted his Culinarian skills, and Drake made some cheesy breadsticks to hit the threshold of thirty. He also noted that pizza was a very cheesy (pun intended) way to game the system, since he could load it with more toppings than most dishes he now had inborn knowledge of, as well as what ingredients they needed, which meant it gave more experience.


Falkor had done his training as he'd been asked, and was absolutely thrilled as he received his pizza, and Drake promised that if his draconic stomach didn't become upset by cheese, meat, sauce, and bread, he would make the dragon a pizza at least three times a week, if he was good. He even offered to, eventually, help Falkor master the art himself, mostly to lowkey see if his 'familiar' could also learn Job skills. He had the intelligence level of any other sentient, and Drake had a feeling creatures like centaurs or bull men also had food makers, so it likely wasn't limited by a thing like race.


The third pizza came out the best, half cheese, and half pepperoni, a slice of which Drake gave to the dragon, before having two himself. He left the rest for the ladies upon their return, since the magic table would keep it fresh and warm, and then set about mastering his other skills in Galdurath's Omniforge.





Woodworking was next, and though it was time consuming, and he kept having to go smith new, higher level saw blades, breaking them down also gave him experience, and by the time he hit thirty, he'd crafted a fairly decent, if simplistic, set of furniture for a kitchen. Later on, he would confirm Laurelin's aid in Teleporting it where he wanted it, as he fully intended to give it to a lower caste family, assuming he could find one in need.


Next, he tackled leatherworking, which was when he realized that Galdurath's material storage was, seemingly, infinite. Recalling his words about the materials coming from somewhere, Drake didn't go crazy. Each item he worked and shaped was something someone could use, after he sold it. Mostly, what he made was bronze to steel tier leather armor. Once he hit thirty, he stopped, but did spy a Unicorn Saddle as something he could make at forty. If he had time, he fully intended to go for it, but he also wanted to, if possible, become an Omnicrafter by the end of the day. Achieving that seemed like the kind of isekai-protag shenanigans he should've been capable of doing.


Weaving, as it turned out, was the most difficult of the Jobs, but eventually, he made a bunch of hilarious baby t-shirts and onesies that, while a bit rough on the seams, were quite soft on the skin thanks to the high quality materials he had. They had amusing words stitched onto them, and Drake was particularly proud of 'Spit Happens', 'Tiny Goddess, Big Attitude', 'Already Smarter Than Dad', 'That Smell Means I'm Winning', and 'I'm the Reason Naps Are Sacred'. The t-shirt line got him to thirty five, but he'd been having too much fun to notice he'd reached his goal.





Finally, all that was left was Alchemy, but before Drake could get started, he heard Laurelin ask for his presence, which he'd expected eventually. It was impossible to tell time in the Omniforge, there were no windows, and he couldn't conjure a clock. He knew he'd been at it for a while though, in addition to the time it took to refill his pool of magic. Crafting higher level items took more power, especially with high quality materials, but he found it a worthy endeavor.


When he returned to the dining area, he saw Rose outside, beside a rather lovely purple furred Alicorn, who seemed to be having a pleasant chat with Falkor. Her horn, wings, and hooves were silver, and naturally sparkled, and her mane was a darker royal purple that somehow had silver highlights in the form of streaks in it. Her tail was the same. Her intelligent eyes fell on Drake as he appeared. Laurelin was still at the table, nomming happily on a piece of cheesy pizza, which he had written down the recipe for and left for the Goddess. He gave Laurelin the baby clothes, which absolutely delighted her, and her giggles at the words upon them filled the background.


"Already smarter than Dad! Oh, I love these!"

Rose scurried over, all smiles, tired but clearly excited as she leapt onto him, and then blinked. "Wh- Oh come on! You leveled up again!?" She pouted at him, but the smile on her lips never left. "Every time I leave your side you get stronger without me."


Drake pulled up his status, and then smirked. Hitting thirty in all the Jobs but Alchemy had gotten him to sixty nine and by the look of things, mastering Alchemy wouldn't change that. The required experience to hit seventy was an even wider gulf than fifty and sixty.


"Nice." He chuckled, and then set Rose down again. "Are you going to introduce me to your new friend?"





Rose brought him over to the Alicorn, who raised her head as he approached. Her equine eyes widened as he came closer, and she backed up further, wings raised defensively, and Falkor rumbled a warning snarl as her horn started shining with magic. Drake stopped, blinking in confusion at her reaction, while Rose tried to soothe her. She looked at Drake worriedly. "She says…something about you is…unmaking Magic? Somehow? It's scaring her."


Drake squinted in confusion, and raised his status, then, he realized what the Alicorn, a being that was innately magical, was probably sensing. His Dispelling Fist, as the system had dubbed it, was a stance, and that stance was still up. He shifted back to his energybending default, and the Alicorn calmed down, but still refused to approach him. He tried addressing the creature directly. "It's a…new trick I learned. To unravel spells cast at me, or my allies. I can see why you were hesitant…I didn't even think of what it might do to a creature that's innately magical…but you have my word, I won't harm you. Or any other innocent creature."


The Alicorn calmed, as Rose petted her, and as the magic around her horn faded, so did Falkor's snarl. He was watching the Alicorn closely now though, his initial trust in her good will evaporated, as she'd tried threatening his friend just because of a status effect. Despite Rose's efforts, the Alicorn blinked away with a spell, and then took off, leaving her new rider to sigh in frustration. "That…is Nymera." She said to Drake, looking disappointed. "And despite my best efforts…she's already decided she doesn't like you."


Laurelin appeared beside them, still nomming on her pizza slice, or perhaps it was a new one. "I'll speak with her before you two leave tomorrow." She declared in that soft but telling tone of hers. Her eyes shifted to Drake then, and he spied a gleam of mischief in them. "Very well done with the Pizza, by the way. Rose said it made her fall for you all over again, and all without you even being present."


"Goddess!" Rose shout-whined, as her face and ears burned red, but Laurelin would not, and perhaps could not, be stopped.


"It is well past time for you growing teens to be off to bed." Drake opened his mouth to protest, but Laurelin was all over his excuse. "You can unravel the Alchemical mysteries of the cosmos tomorrow, Drake. Off to bed. Go. Shoo. You too, Falkor." The dragon puffed smoke from his nostrils, but he already knew well that when Laurelin said it was time to sleep, she meant it.





Drake bid his scaly friend a good evening, Falkor thanked him again for the pizza, and then he and Rose returned to their room, where she locked the door with a sigh. Drake was already sitting on the bed, smirking. "Fell in love with me again, did you?"


Rose's face and ears turned crimson again, and she hid under her hair as she walked towards him, and collapsed into his arms. She pouted up at him. "Can you blame me? All I could think about all day was that…thing you did with your tongue…"


"I love you too, Rose." Drake said, smirking as her face somehow turned a darker red.


"How can you be so sure?"


"This isn't my first time around, remember? It's…been a very long time…but I know what it feels like…and this is the real deal." He leaned in and kissed her, and as things got steamier, he suggested they shower, before they sleep. Once more, Drake drew on his skill in the sacred art of Lingua Adorare, with similar results.





Rose refused to let him go to sleep standing at full attention, and after confirming her desire to truly be with him, they decided to finally cross that line together, losing themselves in each other until exhaustion, amongst other things, carried Rose into a deep sleep. As he meditated, Drake wondered if that decision was a mistake, for while it felt right in all the ways, it was how others would react that worried him. He settled into his trance trusting that no matter what transpired as a result of their choices, he was properly smitten by the woman who was still clinging to him even in sleep.


The morning brought two more rounds, one in the bed and one in the shower, and Drake was once again glad they'd crossed that line. His mind had never been clearer, and apparently, Laurelin had made sure Rose knew the spell to prevent poorly timed pregnancies. Compared to what women had to deal with on Earth to achieve the same effect it was almost unfairly easy, but it was also likely a large contributing factor to why 'love and the making of it' was so free on Arcadia.


Since Laurelin was busy today, along with Galdurath, Drake made breakfast for his lover, and then they departed back to the Academy. Despite Laurelin's words, Nymera took one look at Rose, and reaffirmed that she wanted nothing to do with Drake. He saw her trying to convince her on the flight back to Primus, but the Alicorn was resolute. They made quite the spectacle as they landed, but by now, word that Drake had a friendly dragon as a familiar had spread like wildfire through the campus. Nymera, disliking crowds, took off immediately, while Falkor greeted the students, and started answering their questions as he sat rather majestically in the Academy's courtyard.





Seeing his size compared to when they'd left several days ago, Drake realized his partner was getting quite large. About five minutes into the impromptu Q&A from his peers, the crowd had grown quite large, but not so large that he did not immediately notice the blood red crimson mane of his Instructor, striding beside the scowling figure of the Academy's Headmaster, Veydris. "Drake Long!" Aslan boomed, to the apparent irritation of the Headmaster, who'd wanted to do things more subtly, "Join us, if you would."


Drake nodded. It wasn't a question. He trotted over quickly. "Instructor. Headmaster." He inclined his head to both. "What can I do for you?"


Veydris began, cutting off Aslan as he opened his toothy maw to speak again. "In the space of one week, you have almost achieved level seventy. I trust you understand that…is unprecedented. And yet, despite my monitoring your efforts, your experience gain has been legitimate…and it seems your taking up of other Jobs while you were away has leveled you even further."


Drake felt a premonitory chill run up his spine, as the Headmaster crossed his hands behind his back, and continued. "In light of this…Blessing the Gods hath bestowed upon you, you will no longer be spending your mornings Adventuring with Class Seven. You have the level of an Adamantine Rank Adventurer, and the rank to match, something no First Year easily achieves. However, you also have a crippling lack of knowledge about this world, and the Lord of Magic has informed us that this is because you come from beyond it. So, from tomorrow forward, you will report to our remedial classes we typically offer to younger students, and gifted children of the elite. You will Party up with them, and if possible, help them level up as well. Should you prove competent in your basic courses, we will then be having you adventure with the other Classes in your year, as you did with Class One. Your afternoon classes will still be with Class Seven. This schedule will continue, until the disparities in level between Classes One and Seven and the rest of the first years are rectified."


Aslan spoke, once the Headmaster finished, and Drake did not stop them. He knew he had not even the illusion of choice in this. "There is also the matter of hitting level seventy." The lion man rumbled. "Typically, that threshold is where one unlocks key Skills for their chosen Class. However, you have long passed the point of choosing an advanced Class, which was level thirty, and we believe that you should do so immediately, lest your growth become stunted. However…we do not have any recorded knowledge on what Monks can choose to become, so the choice will be one you will have to make without foreknowledge. We will be departing immediately to the Tower of Knowledge, where those who reach level thirty typically choose their specialization."





The Headmaster left that task to Aslan, and with a sigh towards Falkor's majestic figure, and the crowds around him, returned to the academy's main building. The Tower of Knowledge, as it happened, was almost directly across from the academy, which was likely on purpose. Drake also had a feeling it was where Galdurath had his office. In short order, with no less than five scribes following them, Drake was guided to an arcane altar, and told to step upon it. Then, his perspective shifted. He sensed Galdurath's presence, and saw before him his Status screens, and his list of items.


"You've been busy since I departed." Galdurath's amused voice was omnipresent in the ethereal, starry blue void that Drake currently occupied. "Your Class…has been a bit skewed, as I'm sure you've noticed. You're clearly following the Path of the Elements, and yet your Dragon Style knowledge from Earth has unlocked Quivering Palm for you, a skill which has become central to your style of attack. Know this, Drake Long: there will never be another Monk like yourself. Those you teach Ki manipulation to will not walk the paths that you have."


There was something like a heavy sigh, then that filled the space. "However…you still need to formally choose a path, and to keep the system intact, along with your skills, and in recognition of the knowledge you brought with you to my world, I shall allow you to walk a second path, or in your terms, acquire a second Monastic Tradition."


Drake nodded. "I understand your meaning, Lord of Magic. What are my options?"





"The Way of the Ascendant Dragon would make the most sense…however…between your knowledge and your Boon-given companion, the abilities it would give you are…redundant. You already walk the Path of the Elements, and your Dragon Style knowledge is, with your abilities, essentially the same as the Way of the Open Hand, whose key skill you already have access to. Thus, your most logical choices are as follows."


Drake smirked, as it seemed Galdurath, who was apparently, but not surprisingly, the architect for how Classes functioned in his world, had drawn heavily from table top monk path choices. There was the path of Kensei, which focused on mastering many weapons, the Way of the Long Death, which was a bit to obsessed with murder for his tastes, the Way of the Astral Self, which had promise since it manifested extra arms for him to punch, or do other things with, the path of the Burning Soul, that would apparently turn him into a fist paladin with light and fiery abilities, the Way of Mercy, that would give him an almost uncomfortable amount of control over dealing life and death to those around him by manipulating the Ki of others, the path of Tranquility, that was appealing but simply too pacifistic for the destiny he had been tasked with fulfilling, and finally, the Way of Shadow, which would allow him to conjure darkness, cast Silence, step through shadows, unlock the Stealth skill, and give him access to Sneak Attacks, and the absurd damage they could deal. It was like multiclassing into Rogue without actually doing so.


Aslan had told him to wait before choosing, so that the Tower's scribes could write down the specifics of the monk class for future monks to make use of, foreknowledge that every other class already had access to long before this choice, and as he felt Aslan's shoulder tap signaling the scribes had finished, he spoke to Galdurath.





For Drake, the choice was obvious. He was literally wearing a pair of Hidden Blades. "I will walk in the dark, to serve the Light. I choose the Shadow."


He heard Galdurath chuckle, and then his vision turned white, before it cleared and revealed him standing back in the arcane circle he'd been guided to. "An…interesting choice." Aslan rumbled. "Take stock of your Status…and then you shall be free to enjoy the rest of your weekend. I will see you tomorrow, Drake Long." With that, Aslan left the building with his long, confident strides to go do whatever it was he did when he wasn't teaching.


Drake noted the scribes shamelessly peeking as he brought up his screens, and just said, "Guys, if you want to look, just ask." They did so, politely, and he let them peek at his Boons, blessings, and stats. He did note, perhaps on purpose, that his Epic Destiny became blurred in that moment, though he didn't have to guess who'd censored the information. Regular Arcadians would not react well, initially, to the idea of one as strong and blessed as Drake trying to redeem literally the most evil being on the planet, one responsible for countless atrocities inflicted upon its people.


Drake found his choice neatly shoved into a special skill, with one new additional daily ability that, in the context of his chosen path, made sense. The Way of the Inevitable Fist was a once-per-day Buff that would guarantee his usefulness, and as he exited the Tower of Knowledge and spied Rose, Falkor, and now several other members of Class Seven, he felt more confident than ever that he'd be useful to their party.

---

I updated our boy's Job now, but it will be the first thing we get to, next chapter. Here's his status.

​

 

[Sahqoreyth]

Chapter 9: A Song of Fists and Fabulous Hair

---

Magic Sciences Room, G.A.W.A. - Primus​

Magic circles surrounded by runes flared up around the iron ore, and two pieces of Blackstone. The circular cast iron setup they were in, built into the center of the classroom/laboratory, was designed to take the heat that the alchemically fused ingredients were producing. Light and heat flared white hot, and then just as quickly as it began, the magic ended, leaving a single steel ingot behind. Drake Long smirked, and his newest classmate, Souma Rishin, a young man with a disturbingly sharp intellect, cheered Drake's efforts. "I told you! Alchemy is exhilarating!" His young eyes were on fire. "All it takes to make Mithril is magic, and more Blackstone! You've got this, Drake."


Souma had what Drake referred to as 'anime protag hair'. It was platinum blonde with oxidized copper green tips, and for some reason, stuck straight up, like a paintbrush. Drake blamed it on the terrifying intellect the ten year old had, like his hair was trying to escape his powerful mind, but the going rumor was that it had gotten stuck that way in a magic accident when he was five, and despite his parent's attempts to fix it, it refused to go back down. Drake raised his hands again, and again, the magic circles appeared around the hole in the floor, but after a solid minute, nothing happened. Twice more, he tried, and failed.


"I'm just…not understanding how Steel becomes Mithril, Souma. And infusing magic isn't doing much…nothing I can see, anyway. You said Alchemy operates on the law of Equivalent Exchange," Which was a dimensional echo he was very familiar with, "So how am I supposed to exchange Magic power for Mithril Ore?"


Souma chuckled, and snapped his fingers, forming a single 'finger gun' that he brought up under his chin as he smirked at the monk. "That's not what's being exchanged. What you're exchanging is the Steel, and your Magic. Magic, is Power. You need it both to power the Transmutation, and the Exchange. Lucky for us, you have ridiculous amounts of it!"






Once again, Drake focused, this time splitting his magic, and sure enough, he felt the Transmutation begin this time. Galdurath had deeply undersold Alchemy as just 'people make potions with it'. With Souma's help, Drake now understood that Alchemists on Arcadia could do quite a lot within the laws of reality, provided they had enough magic. Most regular Alchemists needed magic crystals charged with magic power, and lots of them, to pull off Transmutations like steel into mithril, otherwise everyone would've done it. Drake was the exception to that rule, thanks to the intelligence stat being directly linked to one's magic pool. Souma whooped as the energy faded, leaving an azure ingot in place of the steel one, and the two nerds high fived.


Drake crouched by his work then, and the smaller human joined him. He smirked at Souma. "Whaddya think? Should we attempt Adamantite?"


Souma chuckled, and rubbed the back of his head. "Let's see…if we break Magic power into numerical units, it takes about four hundred for five seconds to Transmute, add another two hundred for the Power cost of changing Steel into Mithril…such reactions usually double the cost, so Adamantite…" The kid trailed off, and then smirked. "You said you have over eleven K, on your Status?"


Drake nodded. Souma grinned. "At your ridiculous recharge rate, you could…you could probably get it to Orichalcum! I've never seen real Orichalcum!"


Drake smirked. "Would you like to?" The paintbrush hair bobbed as he nodded eagerly. "Alright then…" Drake, for his part, did his own math, and felt like testing his limits a little bit. It probably wasn't smart, but Souma had told him that chaining Transmutations could ultimately lower the total cost of magic power needed.






"Alright then…" Drake muttered as he mathed out how much coal he'd need to reach orichalcum. Adamant ingots needed six. Runite needed eight. It followed then that orichalcum would use ten pieces just to become malleable enough to shape into an ingot, from an ore. "Souma! When I say 'mark', I need you to toss in eight pieces of Blackstone, and then ten! Think you can handle that?"


The kid nodded again, and Drake smirked. "Just don't miss. A Transmutation like this would probably explode pretty hard if we screw up the required materials. Alright. Here we go!" Souma fished out the required Blackstone, pretty much all Drake had left after his efforts in Eldarheim, and crouched by the Alchemy basin, ready to act.


Magic circles burned to life around the single ingot, and Drake knew them to represent actions in the smelting process. Heating, mixing, forming, and cooling. He'd have to use all of those, three times in a row, to reach orichalcum level. The classroom began glowing again, the only sign of what they were doing visible through a small window in the classroom's door. First, came the change to adamantite. The blue ingot shifted to green as it reformed, but Drake wasn't done. His uniform started flaring behind him, as the Transmutation shifted to a higher tier and the magical forces involved grew more potent. Souma quickly tossed in eight pieces of Blackstone, and Drake heated them, then added the required magic to convert adamantite into runite. Sure enough, through the blinding light, he saw the green shift to that high tier sparkly light blue. "Alright! Now ten!" He shouted over the humming energy.


Souma acted quickly, completely focused as ten pieces of coal joined the Transmutation in progress. Again, the circle rune for heat flared, Drake added more magical power, and the basin sparked as the high tier Transmutation turned their runite ingot into an orichalcum one. Then, something else happened as well, as Drake's Alchemy level surged past thirty. Transmutation like this didn't actually give much experience, since it just required magic and coal, but going for orichalcum had pushed his Alchemy level over thirty, and thus, his Job skills fused together. White light surged around the new Omnicrafter, and Drake dropped on his bottom, panting, as the magic died down, but Souma was ecstatic.






"I've never seen a Transmutation that high level! That was exhilarating! Dude all I gave you was a piece of Iron Ore, and we made it into freakin' Orichalcum!"


Drake chuckled at his little friend's enthusiasm. "I'm just glad I had enough Blackstone left. Good job on the timing, Souma." They shared a fist bump, and Drake stood, then retrieved his prize, smirking at the ten year old. "Y'know, that last Transmutation turned me into an Omnicrafter." Souma's eyes went wide with a mix of awe and envy. "What did you say your Class was, my friend?"


"Artificer." Souma answered.


Drake nodded, and then used his newest skill, after checking his Status quickly. Omnimorphosis was almost broken in how useful it was. No more anvils, no more benches, no more poking his fingers with needles. All he needed was magic, and will. And he had those in spades. Souma's eyes went wide again, as Drake activated the verbal component of his new skill. "Omnimorphosis! Smithing!" The black ingot with orange-red veins running through it levitated before the Omnicrafter.






His design was simple, and to his amazement, as he pictured it, the skill brought the image of what was in his mind into reality, in a sort of preview screen that only he could see. Artificers were more inventors than fighters, but Arcadia was dangerous, and ideally, their main weapon would do both killing and crafting. At the cost of some more magic, Drake lowered the level requirement to wield what he was crafting, and then, he made his will into reality. Runic circles appeared around the ingot again, though this time there were hundreds, and they were all tiny and complex.


Arcs of magic, like white lightning, surged into the ingot, shaping it into what Drake desired, and once they were done, he grabbed his creation by the handle. It was a hammer, keeping that same color scheme of black with red-orange veins, it could rotate its head to be a pinpoint tool, a generic smithing hammer, and a sharper one, for bashing monsters that got too close. Drake highlighted this feature of what he created, and then handed it to Souma.


"Behold. The Multi-Hammer. It will keep you safe, and help you with your Artificing in the years to come."


Souma took the item, and then his eyes bulged as he saw how good it was, and that he could wield it. "Drake…this is…this would cost hundreds of thousands of Gil! I can't-"


Drake held up a finger. "It was your Iron Ore that I made this from, technically, and though I provided the Blackstone, the actual material it is composed of is one that you gathered yourself." Their class had gone gathering for basic materials earlier that day, the first day of the week, and all poor Souma had managed to mine was a single piece of ore. He hadn't let that bother him, though. "You can probably use the sharper head to do some mining, too. You won't end up with just one piece of ore again. Use this, and become a Legendary Artificer!"






Souma grinned, and then wiped his slightly teary eyes, meeting Drake's gaze with determination. "I will! I just became ten billion percent more effective!"


Drake chuckled. "I have to get to my other classes…but you can go find your Party if you want to gather more stuff. Just flash that Epic tier hammer, they'll probably want to see it in action too. And stay safe out there. Don't get so absorbed in gathering that you miss the Goblin hiding in the bushes."


Souma promised to be safe, and then scurried off, with a shout of, "Excelsior!"

Drake just shook his head, and eyed his new Omnicrafting level. It averaged his other Job levels together, which put him at level fifty, presumably out of two hundred. As Laurelin had predicted, Drake immediately got drawn in by the sheer amount of things he could now make. He was so drawn in, that he lost track of where he was walking, until a familiar voice called out to him.


"Oi! Drake Long!"






He looked up from his menu, to realize he was…somewhere he completely didn't recognize. The person calling out to him was Faelar, the friendly janitor from his first day. He trotted over with a knowing smirk on his handsome elf features. "Getting lost again, are we? You almost walked into the Instructor's Lounge just now."


Drake blinked. "I…wow that's a big room for a break room…anyway. I uhh…got caught up in reading my new list of things I can make. Just became an Omnicrafter, you see."


Faelar let out a low whistle. "Level sixty nine in a week, and already neck deep in Omnicrafting. I knew you were one to keep an eye on. Nice job, kid."


Drake chuckled. "Thanks, Faelar. I uhh…I don't suppose you could point me back to the classrooms, could you?"


Faelar smirked. "Back the way you came, and two right turns. Just uhh…be on the lookout, alright? I heard that the Top Five have taken an interest in the new so-called 'Highest Level First Year'."


Drake blinked. "The Top Five?"






Faelar nodded. "The five strongest current students at the Academy. Most of them are fine, destined to be great Adventurers down on Tharvoss, against Dagorath's hordes. The one you really want to watch out for…is Skalos. Skalos Lycaon (Lie-kay-on)." Seeing Drake's blissfully blank expression, Faelar continued. "He's a Luparyn. Black fur. Real mean eyes. Not a fan of people like us, either."


Drake blinked again, and tilted his head. "People like us…?"


Faelar nodded. "Non-Beastkin. He hates Humans and Elves specifically, and especially the races that combine both. Determines purity by how much fur someone has."


Drake's eyes narrowed. "I thought that was random though, even for first time interracial pairings."


Faelar nodded. "It is. He doesn't care. The Adventurers Guild keeps censuring him for his attitude, but his power…lets him get away with a lot. He's already Runic tier, and if not for his Beastkin Supremacy, he'd be Draconic rank. He's that strong." Faelar patted Drake's shoulder. "So watch yourself, yea? He's not the only one keeping an eye on you, either. Between your leveling and your Dragon…you have a target on you now. In fact, I'd have your Dragon sleep off-campus, and out of Primus entirely, if I were you. The rewards for materials from a Dragon are very high, and people aren't going to care, or believe, that they're from a good one." Much as Faelar personally liked Falkor, he also had ulterior motives in moving him off campus. Dragon turds were…quite large. And cheesy, for some reason.






Drake nodded again. "Right…I'll keep an eye out. Thanks again, Faelar."


"Stay safe, kid." The janitor replied, before shaking his head. He knew better. Once Skalos got his scent, he'd be taken out, one way or another. It had happened to promising first years before. Faelar would've liked to root for the kid, but Skalos was a literal force of nature.


As Drake rounded the corner to the hallway leading to his classroom, he found most of Class Seven arrayed outside, before a single figure. He was a tall, muscular, black furred wolf man who was in the process of snarling at his classmates. "...cking tell me where the little Monk is…I'm not interested in the rest of you furless wastes of Magic..."


Rose was in the front of the group, with Garret by her side. Lyria and Zara were behind her, as was Leif. The rest of Class Seven seemed to be inside already, or watching from the door. Leif had his ears back, and looked ready to give in to his instinct to flee. Seeing Drake, he pointed a finger, and said, "Th-there he is! Now leave us alone already!" Rose turned at the same time the wolf man did, hitting Leif with a look that made him understand he was dead to her.


The Luparyn, who could only be the aforementioned Skalos, stalked towards Drake, hands in the pockets of his Academy pants. His eyes were red, and practically glowing with power, and his ruff of black fur around his neck was breaking free of his uniform, along with his absurdly chiseled physique. Then, Drake understood why, as he saw the wolf man's level. Sitting at a daunting ninety eight, that meant he had the stats to match, if not more. Thanks to his Corestone Catalyst though, which he very much still had equipped along with his other items, Drake's stats were on par with his, probably. The gulf between them was not as great as the unimpressed Luparyn seemed to think.






Despite their similar stature though, those feral eyes and his gleaming, toothy maw still filled Drake with instinctual fear. Humans and wolves, at least on Earth, very much had a love/hate relationship. Some, probably in pursuit of food, had become loyal pets and friends. Others, with attitudes more akin to Skalos, had either avoided humans, or actively hunted them when they were alone. For the record, Drake largely blamed his fellow Earthling Humans for that relationship. They had no business hiking through wolf territory for fun, and what species wouldn't attack predators who often hunted their kin if they had a numerical advantage? Even the historically friendly Orca Whales had been fed up with humanity's bullshit, when he'd left.


Despite the instinctual fear, Drake met Skalos's eyes evenly, and he knew immediately, that this was a canid who had suffered great trauma. Probably at the hands of humans. He'd seen that look before in the shelter. Feeding those poor doggos, who had too much hate in their hearts for humans to ever do more than tolerate them, only went so far. They were the kinds of dogs that had to be handled with multiple people, and unfortunately, had often been put down for their own good after a set number of violent incidents. Seeing not fear, but pity in Drake's eyes made Skalos's hackles rise, and start sparking with electricity. It was then that Drake noticed the wolf man's class, and gulped slightly. He guessed, correctly, that a Stormbound Shaman would be not at all unlike an Enhancement Shaman, straight out of World of Warcraft.


That meant Skalos was probably devastatingly deadly in melee, decent at mid range, and could also probably heal himself, though, at his level, Drake had learned that most classes had some method of restoring their own health points. "As I thought…yourrr're Nothing…" Drake ignored his bait, but that only pissed him off more. That made the Human frown, as it meant anything was just going to make Skalos angrier. "When your classes are done…you and I arrre going to duel…outside, on the field behind the main building. Don't try running back to your room. Cowarrrrds receive harsher beatings…"






Once again, Drake said nothing, even as the snarling wolf man brought his deadly maw inches from his face, and throat. Drake's body tensed, ready to strike Skalos in his own jugular with a Hidden Blade, but he wouldn't make the first move. He trusted that his friends would keep the wolf from ripping his durable neck off, and that Rose would be able to heal him before he bled to death. As if recognizing the danger on instinct, Skalos drew back with a snarl, and stomped off.


Once Drake could no longer hear his heavy footsteps, he exhaled, right as his classmates, and mainly Rose, ran up to him. She hugged him tight, and he patted her back, as he felt her shivering. "I'm alright, Rose. Even if I wasn't, I knew you'd heal me."


She looked up at him with those gorgeous eyes, tainted now with worry, and that alone, set Drake on his path. He also knew what bullies were like, especially bullies who possessed raw power and didn't expect anyone to be able to stop them. "You know who that was, right?"


Drake nodded. "Someone whose going to get his ass kicked after our classes are done."






The looks on their faces, were priceless. All except Rose's who looked genuinely terrified. "Drake, no! This isn't like at the Guild! Skalos will tear you apart! He's done it before!"


Drake's eyes hardened. "And that's why he's going to get his ass kicked. I know his type, and I have a good idea about his Class…" His eyes shifted to Vincent then, who'd joined the group in the hallway. Other first years were peeking out of the other rooms now, and murmuring as they registered his words. "Vincent…please tell me you know about Stormbound Shamans."


Vincent pushed his glasses up, and they caught the light as he said, "He's not just Stormbound, and capable of heals, he's an Alpha Luparyn. They have their own set of irritating abilities and skills. Not to mention, as a Beastkin, his stats are naturally higher than ours, even as High Humans." He gave Drake a brief overview then, and thankfully, it was what he'd expected. Enhancement Shammy, but with a few tricks. He also apparently used metal clawed gauntlets as weapons, which actually worked in Drake's favor. If he could block the magic in the Luparyn's arms, his weapons would just be sharp, and lack any stunning effects. Thus far, Drake had used his Dragon's Fangs to inflict damage instead of going full Hyuuga and blocking his target's magic, but after sparring with the God of Magic, he was confident that he could disrupt someone's bodily energy network enough to make it temporarily not work.


Once Vincent finished, Drake stroked Rose's cheek, as she hadn't pulled away from him. "I'll be okay, I promise. Even if I lose…and I probably will, I have enough tricks to put up a good show…and I have a feeling that will be enough." Despite his attitude and reputation, Drake knew a good doggo when he saw one, and deep, deep down, Skalos had once been one. He knew it in his core. He just had to punch through the delusion about Beastkin being superior by demonstrating that Humans and Elves were the chosen races of the Gods for a reason.






They took their seats in class then, and sure enough, a minute later Aslan was there. By that point, naturally, the news had spread to every first year class in their hallway: the overpowered monk was going to fight the most brutal Beastkin at the Academy. Their class went by quickly, mostly because Drake found it interesting, as he always did when learning about the world's history. This time, they'd covered the last raiding party to ever clear a Dungeon: Vis Aeterna. Most of them had passed on by this point, but Class One's teacher was apparently a former member.


As Aslan mentioned that, the entire class gave him a look, and apparently Drake wasn't alone in wondering what their Instructor had done in his youth. Picking up on the unasked question, he said, "…As for myself…I was a member of one of the last serious Dungeon clearing attempts…at the Wardengrave Dungeon…and it did not end well. You can ask me about the details when you're Fourth Years."


As they broke for lunch, Rose approached their muscular mountain of an Instructor, and Drake didn't bother getting up, as he had a feeling he'd be asked to stay anyway. As Rose spoke in hushed, hurried whispers, Aslan nodded his mighty maned head and gestured for her to depart, then steepled his claws as his sharp eyes fell on Drake. They were both sitting, as Drake's desk just happened to be right in front of Aslan's, and the silence in the room grew, as Aslan pondered his words.






"You…have a penchant for overcoming higher leveled foes. This has, beyond doubt and belief, impressed pretty much everyone at this Academy, and no small number beyond it as well. I'm afraid it has also led to…an enlarged ego. Skalos Lycaon is a scion of, arguably, the strongest natural bloodline Arcadia has ever seen. From the dawn of Arcadia, his family has possessed one of the deepest ties to the world."


Drake scowled. "And what has he done with this power? From what I've heard, abused it for clout."


"Would that it were so simple…" Aslan rumbled. "Only two of his Dueling opponents didn't drop out of the Academy, and the two who stayed, had to get several essentially artificial limbs." Drake winced, as that was something he very much understood. On Arcadia, as on Earth, replacing shattered bones was not an exact science, but it could be done.


"Despite that," Drake said firmly, "It's long past time somebody kicked his ass."


Aslan sighed again, and gestured for him to leave. "Some lessons must be taught with pain. Tread carefully, Drake Long."






As Drake left with a soft sigh, he ran straight into Rose, who of course, had waited for him. His eyes went wide as he saw her on the verge of tears. "Are you going to back out?"


Drake shook his head. "I can't. When you back down from people like Skalos, they get fixated. What he wants is a spectacle. I'll make sure it's one he won't soon forget."


Drake made an 'oof' noise, as Rose tackled him, and clung to his uniform's front. "I don't want you to die, Drake…why do you care so little for your own safety? Do you have any idea how I'd feel, watching you get torn to shreds?" Tears finally escaped her eyes. "I thought I lost you once, and it…made me realize my feelings. I can't…especially after the Birthday weekend you gave me, I…can't lose you. Please back out. Just until you level up some more. At the rate you're going you'll hit one hundred by the end of the week anyway!"


Drake blinked, slowly. "Wait, it was your Birthday!? How did no one tell me this?"


Rose made a face, as he changed the subject, but it was too important to ignore. "Wh- You didn't know? But what about all the presents, and the trip to see the Gods, and the…" She shook her head, before she lost her focus. "It's why I'm seeing my parents tomorrow. At a party I was hoping you'd be Alive for!"






Drake smiled at her, though he hated seeing her so upset. "The gifts were because, as I told you, I love you, Rose. I realized the same thing when I was dragged into that Goblin pit, in the Wallow. The thought of seeing you again drove me to avoid dying, or getting captured." Eager to keep dodging the topic at hand he said, "So…your Birthday would make you…?"


"Eighteen. The number after seventeen. Why, does that hold some special Earth significance?" She asked, drying her eyes.


Drake nodded. "I mean…yes…but also no…? Cross-planetary norms are…murky…anyways." He had a sneaking suspicion Laurelin was one hundred percent behind that timing. It was too coincidental. Drake looked her in the eye, and wiped away the tear streaks on her cheeks. "I'm not going to die, Rose. I promise you, I will return alive…probably badly wounded, but alive. Goddess Laurelin made me very hard to kill. Even wolf fangs will have a hard time ripping me apart, but Skalos will never get the chance, and he needs to be stopped. If it's not me, it'll just be another First Year who can't handle him as well as I can."


She let out a shaky breath. "A-Alright…just…" She sighed, exasperated at the whole situation. So, she grabbed his hand, and started dragging him towards the cafeteria. "Just have lunch with me."






In short order, they had their meal, and a table with only four seats, relatively far from any of the cliques. That wasn't going to stop people, though. Two strangers approached them, as Drake had barely loaded his fork with mashed popotoes. "For fuck's sake…"


Seeing who was coming, Rose gasped, and set down her own utensils. "Those are two of the Top Five. Alvar Thalorian is considered the strongest in the entire Academy. And Florian Solemere is...well...you'll see." Ignoring his rumbling stomach, Drake followed her lead.


She inclined her blonde head to the golden feathered birdkin with blue streaks on the feathers above and below his eyes who looked closer to maturity than Ceyrin had, and had the bearing of a priest. His class was listed as War Cleric. "It's good to see you, Alvar."

She said the name of his High Human companion with a simultaneous sigh. "Florian…"


Florian was quite obviously a bard, and fit that description to a T. His clothes and headwear looked like he'd gotten them from a Ren Fair, and his waist length cape was just eternally blowing in a nonexistent breeze. Drake blinked, as upon focusing on a magic item, probably thanks to his Omnicrafting, he could see its name and attributes. The Cape of Billowing didn't add anything notable. Aside from a five point boost to charisma, its main feature, was that it billowed. Forever.

​

The bard just smiled a wide, almost creepy and yet somehow still charismatic smile, as Alvar continued. "This must be the Monk I've heard talk of. The entire Academy was set abuzz upon hearing you survived, alone, in the final phase of a battle against a Malblin King empowered by the God of Monsters. A Malblin Tyrant, on the precipice of becoming a Demon Lord. Then, we heard that Skalos Lycaon had decided to make you his next victim. And that you had agreed to his challenge."


Drake nodded. "I'm Drake Long. Nice to meet you both. You heard correctly, about the Goblin trash, and about Skalos. Rose thinks he's going to tear me apart. You two are also considered among the Top Five, right? What do you think?"


Florian opened his mouth, overjoyed to share his opinion, but Alvar silenced him with a single raised finger. "Shut up, Florian." The bard closed his mouth, but kept that smile. His time would come.


The eagle eye of the War Cleric facing Drake, sitting at a very mighty level ninety nine, pulsed with power as it grew clouded and stormy. "Interesting…" He said after a moment. A smile curved up, where beak met flesh. "Most interesting… Like Rose, I believed Skalos would be your end, thus we were going to offer you protection, but…your reputation lives up to the hype. So I will instead grant you Fourth Tier Buffs, and those shall even your odds considerably, enough for this Duel to be a fair one." The bird man leaned in close, then. "Find me, before your Duel, and I shall ensure a fair fight."


Drake nodded, and smiled at him. "I will, thank you, Alvar." His eyes shifted to Florian, and his billowing cape. "What about your thoughts on my chances, sir Bard?"






Alvar and Rose simultaneously facepalmed, and Drake blinked at them, before all three of them found their gazes inescapably drawn to Florian. Drake's brow furrowed as he saw magic swirling around him in a purposefully graceful spiraling flow around his entire body.


"Oh…I think he's going to tear you apart…but if he Doesn't…?" A lute magically appeared in Florian's hands, and he strummed on it with a graceful stroke of his fingers. The entire cafeteria looked their way as the note cut through the din of conversation. Those who knew what was coming, smirked. Those who did not, mostly the first years, had looks of confusion. "You might just become my latest Muse, Drake Long!"


Florian spun away from their table as he adjusted his instrument's knobs, and strummed again before the eyes of the lunch room. "How about a light song!? I'm feeling a Fight Song!" The students gave an encouraging whoop, and Florian grinned. "Dedicated, of course, to Drake Long! The latest victim of our canine Lycaon!"


And with that series of rhymes, the bard began tapping his foot, and soon, the entire room was copying him. Drake took this opportunity to finally eat, though despite his best efforts, his foot tapped along to the beat

"From a tale so Long, the Storm is drawn,


A challenge laid on the Academy lawn!


A brutal Beast, all teeth and hair,


In the halls confronted, by the maiden faiiir!"





Florian spun, gesturing to Rose, who followed Drake's lead. But the bard would not be ignored. He leapt upon a nearby empty table with a dancer's grace, and kept loudly thumping his foot, as his lute provided a jaunty backdrop.



"Skalos, drawn from his foul lair,


To savage her Love! So young! Such hair!


But to whom doth our maiden's heart belong?


Why, the Monk! The Hero! It's Drake Long!



Fearless before the Alpha scion,


Of the noble House Lycaon!


The Monk refuses to run, to hide!


He takes approaching death in great striiiide!



Oh! Though he may die to the thunder's pull,


His bones, broken, his strength made null!


He still stands, unafraid to fight!


But will the wolf fall to his might?





A bringer of Pain, a rising Fame,


But who will win this brutal game?


The Beast who scorns those lacking fur?


Or the Monk whose Class remains obscuuure?





Strike and storm, clash and cry!


One will stand, and one will die!


Flames will rise, sparks will fly!


And in the ennnnnd…fair Rose will cry!"​

Drake's eyes narrowed at the bard. "I'm going to end him…"


Rose shook her head with a sigh. "He's right, though…I probably will cry... Out of-"


She was interrupted, as Florian was still not done. He leapt like a fae ballerina from his table perch, to the floor near theirs, and strummed again, loudly, "But will they be tears of loss, or joy? Tell us! Tell us, lover boy!"


Drake dropped his fork, fists clenched, as he stood up. "That's it. You've chosen Death, Florian."






But the fucking bard was already prancing away, all too familiar with that look. "And so ends my jaunty tune! Until next time, my fuming Muse!~"


The cafeteria was abuzz with reprisals of the song, and outright laughter at the final taunts, and Drake's reaction. Jeers filled the air.


"So fierce!"


"Such hair!"


"That hair won the maiden fair!"


Then, came the chanting. Just two lines, since that's what people could remember, but Drake had a feeling Florian would spread his words to everyone before long. It was too catchy, too easy on the ears, to not eventually learn by the end of the day.


"Strike and Storm! Clash and Cry! One will stand and one will die!"





Seeing the chanting was getting to Rose, the two ate quickly, and hurried to their next class. The rest of the day became a blur of assignments, broken up only by the occasional random stranger, usually female, asking him if he was really going to face Skalos. One magic equivalent of physical education, a lesson on obscene monsters, and a lesson on Jobs that were not a part of Omnicrafting later, and Drake was very much ready to have this Duel. People all throughout the halls, even a few of his Instructors, had been humming Florian's jaunty tune. He found Alvar easily enough with Rose's guidance, and his pupils dilated, as he experienced higher tier Buffs for the first time. Apparently, the highest tier a Buff could reach was nine, but only those well above level one hundred and fifty had access to them, and casting them drained so much magic, even Drake would've had trouble casting more than one. If he'd been a caster.


When he emerged from the Academy's main building, it wasn't hard to find the field Skalos had mentioned. It seemed like the entire school had shown up. Fifth and sixth years were occupying the bleacher seats that ringed the blue and gold turfed field, while everyone else had to stand and crowd around for a view. Drake gave Rose a final hug in the entrance courtyard as Falkor arrived to help him with his dramatic entrance. This was to be a spectacle, after all. "I'll be okay, I promise. Have some faith in me, and Alvar's Buffs." She told him that she would, but her eyes were lying. She was terrified, and shaking, even though she was pretending not to be nervous.


With that, Drake hopped on Falkor, and the pair shot up high into the clouds, drawing looks from the crowd, who very much noticed the giant white dragon launching into the cloud cover. Once it was just them, Drake spoke with his draconic friend. "It's just me for this one, bud. I'll be okay."


"I know." The dragon rumbled, confidently. "You've handled those like Skalos before." Drake nodded. Handling angry canines had been his job after all. They had not all been like Falkor. He gave his friend another nod, and then slid sideways out of the saddle, falling through the clouds, and making them disperse as he shot through them, forward flipped in the air, and landed hard enough to make the field shudder with his earthbending.

Skalos was there, armored and ready in what looked like chainmail armor suited for a caster, once again in line with what he'd expected. Drake had also equipped all of his adventuring items. He was going to need every single one against someone this strong.


"Drrrake Long!" Skalos snarled. "I thought you'd run away on your Dragon. Pity. I would've enjoyed hunting you down."


Drake smirked, and shifted to airbending, causing the wind around him to make his robe flare up. "Skalos Lycaon!" He shouted, as the wind carried his words for everyone around to hear, "When I beat your mongrel ass today, you will Never harm another younger year Student, or lower ranked Adventurer than you again! Do you accept the terms of this Duel?"


Skalos snarled. "Only if you accept that I'm about to rrrrip out your fucking throat!" Lightning surged around him, and lit up along his body. Drake swore. Beneath the fur, were tattoos, probably similar to runes, that no doubt helped him control his natural power to a higher degree, and seemed to be acting as his chest armor as well. Such practices, he had learned, were considered dangerous to have implemented on one's body, but it seemed Skalos wasn't worried.


Drake fell into his martial stance. "Take your best shot, furball."


The glowing symbol signifying a Duel appeared over both their dominant hands, the crossed pair of swords gleaming brightly. A sixth year Drake did not recognize rang a handheld gong and shouted, "Begin!"