*Date: 33,480 Second Quarter - Chalice Theocracy*
When they passed, both guardians had finally bead out from the dungeon. Their forms human once. "They don't want us to examine," Aris thought. The silence that followed was worse than their attacks. It was the silence of an exam over, but without certainty that you had passed.
Orric coughed, spat blood, then managed a crooked grin. "You still alive?"
"Barely," Aris said. "I think I'll feel those blasts in my bones for the next decade."
"Then we passed," Orric said, sheathing his blade. "Co on. Let's see if this dungeon gives us sothing better than a headache."
They staggered forward together into a smaller sanctum beyond the battlefield. The air changed imdiately, thinner, colder, tinged with the tallic tang of magic. At the center stood a squat pedestal, and above it floated a crystalline shard glowing faintly blue-white. The light pulsed like a heartbeat, casting skeletal shadows across the wet stone walls.
"That's it?" Aris asked, disappointed.
Orric rubbed his jaw. "Looks like it."
The mont they stepped closer, the shard flared and a thin whisper burned across Aris's mind:
"Trial complete. Endurance asured. Strength recorded."
That was it. No surge of levels, no wave of stats like in old Realmforge days. Just cold words and a prize that felt more like a receipt than a reward.
Orric let out a humorless chuckle. "So, no treasure chest, no legendary sword, not even a healing potion. Chalice Theocracy sure knows how to inspire loyalty."
Aris frowned. "I think... the real rewards go sowhere else. They're asuring us. Not rewarding us."
Before Orric could respond, the chamber shuddered violently. Fissures split the ceiling, sending streams of glowing spores trickling down. The pedestal cracked in half and the shard winked out, vanishing into the air like smoke.
"Oh, perfect," Orric growled. "Ti to run."
They sprinted through the corridor, the ground trembling under their boots. Mossy walls split apart. Fungal blooms ignited into strange sparks, lighting their path with unnatural flashes. A chunk of ceiling collapsed just ahead and Aris threw up his shield on instinct, and the golden do shimred long enough to deflect falling rock before snapping away. His lungs burned from the effort.
"Keep going!" Aris shouted, pulling Orric's arm when the wolfkin stumbled. Together they burst into the wide central cavern, gasping as fresh air hit their faces.
Waiting in the cavern was the shepherd-official, his gray robes glowing faintly in the cavern light. One by one, other first-years stumbled in from their own tunnels, bloodied, coughing, eyes wide with exhaustion. So had to be carried by their partners. Others were missing entirely.
The shepheron's voice echoed coldly. "C3 complete. Survivors recorded. Step forward."
Aris and Orric obeyed, shoulders heavy but steps steady. Around them, whispers spread: "They cleared C3. Together. And they walk unscathed."
The march back blurred. Templars and priests escorted the first-years out of the dungeon, through the portal, and into the cloaked tent in the capital's center. From outside, muffled sounds of the city pressed in, curious voices, shuffling feet. Tradition once celebrated these trials, Aris rembered. Realmforge had made it a parade. Now it was a prison march.
When they erged from the portal into Ivory Gate grounds, the morning sun burned bright, too bright after the dark. Students were herded into neat lines. So collapsed outright on the grass. Priests moved quickly among them, casting simple heals, their hands glowing faintly. Aris refused their touch and helped Orric hobble back to the dorms.
"By the Chalice," ca a familiar growl. Rathvoss, the at-headed Templar instructor, pushed through the lines of returning students. His scarred face split into a grin when he saw Aris and Orric. "Well, well. My inconsistent student lived."
Orric snorted weakly. "Barely."
"Barely is enough, for now," Rathvoss said, clapping him on the shoulder. "You impressed , Aris. Again." He jabbed a finger at Aris.
Aris managed a crooked smile. Every part of his body scread in pain, but Rathvoss's words planted sothing else deep in his chest, unease. To be noticed by a Templar here was both complint and curse.
"How many made it?" Aris asked.
"Don't worry about that now," Rathvoss replied.
While Rathvoss praised them, a group of fae students gathered nearby, their glares sharp as knives. They surrounded their injured comrade Sliver Stone, casting poisonous looks at Aris. He could almost hear their whispers: "Favored. Protected. Not natural."
Aris took his leave and went back to the library to et Lyra and look at his stats. But Lyra seed distant, didn't wave back. Fox ca and joined him.
"She says keep your distance when people are around. That last job really freaked her out," Fox explained.
"I understand," Aris said.
"So how was the dungeon? You managed to leave in one piece."
"I managed to combine healing touch and cure disease. That opened a slot and I managed to manifest a shield."
"Combine? Lyra said it is near impossible. Good job kid, you ca along pretty good."
"Witness stone worked?"
"It kind of worked. I didn't get all 36 levels like before I think, but it jumped to level 20ish. I don't really know. My magic seed more powerful than before but not as good as the first ti I used the stone. But sothing else happened."
"Yeah, what is it?"
"The stone took energy or XP from the killing of the dungeon boss."
"Wait, really? That's excellent!"
"I know right. And even though the Templar route isn't my first choice, it still can be useful to fill xp."
"But how are you gonna fill it with xp? There are no zones near here you can quickly take advantage of and co back here."
Lyra ca back finally when everyone cleared.
"Sorry kid, I am keeping distant to protect you. You never know. Congratulations surviving second dungeon."
Aris's smile widened.
"Why is he smiling like a mad man?" Lyra asked Fox.
"He's saying he managed to combine spells to open a slot."
"No way. Let's take a look," she said and revealed her machine.
1This is End of Volu 1
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