Nothing but the most resilient ferns lived in the shade of the giant oak. The impossibly tall tree loomed over the forest, cloaking it in darkness. Its boundless crown started a hundred meters above the ground, partially obscured by mist.
After a half a year of travel, the father and son finally reached their destination. To an adult, this period of time was neither too long nor too short. For a young boy, on the other hand, it was enough to make his sleeves a tad too short and his shoes uncomfortable.
But those slight discomforts could be ignored now that they were finally here. Mesmerized, Wolf gazed upon the giant tree which blotted out the skies. In the darkness much deeper than in the rest of the primal forest, Wolf made out the distant tree’s trunk. It was wider than any building he’d ever seen.
You can probably fit half the Muddy River’s houses inside it, he thought in awed silence.
His gaze shifted to a vast tangle of moss-covered roots, which stuck out of the ground like a cluster of snakes. The roots were thicker than the most ancient trees he’d seen during this trip.
This was without a doubt the biggest, most majestic tree Wolf had ever seen in his life, as long as it was. And Wolf now considered himself an expert when it came to majestic trees.
Archibald looked for different things. He immediately noticed that there were no signs of animals anywhere. Not even birds and bugs lived here, resulting in the eerily quiet area swallowed by resilient shrubbery. His eyes shifted to a spot from which he felt danger. There, the big man saw a patch devoid of life.
A triangular hole opened into the trunk at ground level and nothing grew within a dozen meters around it.
As they neared it, Archibald confirmed that three smooth cuts were used to make the opening. A thick layer of moss covered the trunk of the Skytouching Oak - a harmless plant type Monster Beast. But not even moss grew near that entrance. In fact, the erratic bark pattern made it look like the tree itself was also trying to flee from the hole.
Wolf, who could see better in this dim lighting, knew that three perfect strokes of a sword had opened this entrance. The walls were absolutely smooth and remained the way they were when he’d first made those cuts.
From inside this deep tunnel a strong Sword Aura radiated, scaring away plants and wildlife alike. Even Archibald, who was less sensitive to swordplay, knew that this was the work of a great Sword-Saint.
“Dad, I think you’ll have to wait somewhere around here,” Wolf said worriedly, unaware of the muddling of his thoughts. “I don’t know how long I'll stay inside. I think it could take more than a week.”
Now that the boy was about to separate from his father for the first time, he wasn’t afraid for himself. Instead, he worried that something might happen to the big man.
Archibald failed to hear the heartwarming display. He stared at those three sword marks with a deep frown. The lingering aura he felt was very familiar, and it brought out some of the most unpleasant memories of his life.
“Son, listen to me carefully,” Archibald said with a hard face. “If you don’t want to enter this place, we can turn around and leave immediately. I won’t get angry. That Sword Aura is very strong and very sharp. The one who made these cuts has killed a huge number of manlings and Monster Beasts. The ones he’d slain with his own hands likely number in the millions.”
The problem was, Archibald only knew of one man who fit that description.
That man had the moniker of Lonely Eagle. He was an elven Sword-Saint who was more than a millennium old. He was so powerful that he single-handedly toppled the incredibly powerful Wolf clan, and brought them to ruin in a matter of days. His intervention also brought the Northshield duchy to a point of collapse without him even taking direct action.
Those were just the man’s deeds which Archibald had personally experienced.
There were countless legends surrounding Lonely Eagle. Some of his feats were even greater than bringing down the elven imperial clan all by himself.
Allegedly, the ancient Sword-Saint ventured into the demon lands for several months. There he slaughtered hordes upon hordes of demons, before safely coming back home just in time before the rift between the worlds closed.
Rumors also stated that Lonely Eagle had slain a Great Red Wyrm, which was a deed far more difficult than toppling the Empire of Elf. It was a feat which officially netted him the title of World Power centuries ago.
“Everything will be fine. We’ve already come all this way.” With those words and a determined look, Wolf bravely walked towards the entrance into the tree.
“Wait up,” Archibald called out and tossed a ring towards Wolf in an arc. “Put that Ring of Holding on. You’ll know how to use it as soon as it’s on your finger. There’s enough water and dry rations in there to last you a month. I even keep some utilities inside, just in case.”
Wolf caught the Ring of Holding. When he put it on his thumb, his face brightened and he grinned. He could sense a bunch of things inside it which were just a thought away from appearing somewhere near him.
“Thanks Dad,” Wolf exclaimed before venturing into the tree’s hollow.
The tunnel sloped downward, slowly descending underground. The one hundred-odd meters of the bare triangular walls were, in fact, the first trial.
The deeper a trial-taker went, the stronger the Sword Aura got. It was so sharp that it could cut apart a person’s soul. About halfway through the tunnel, the Sword Aura became strong enough to snuff out a normal person’s life. However, Wolf felt no danger or pressure as he advanced down the hallway.
The only thing the boy felt was a warm sense of familiarity, of returning to himself. The Sword Aura washed over Wolf like a gentle spring rain, going straight through him without doing the slightest bit of harm.
The sensation was blessedly comfortable. Wolf even had a feeling that if he stayed here for a while, he could recover some memories of his past life.
As that thought sprang up in his mind, Wolf shook off the tug to his soul. He wasn’t the least bit interested in reawakening his old memories.
Based on what he had seen when he was a year old, his past self was a real meanie. Not to mention he hated his dad without even getting to know the man. Wolf’s past self was… an ignorant peasant!
Fighting away the beguiling influence, Wolf pressed forward and at the end of the tunnel found several bleached skeletons lying on the ground.
Those were desperates and fools who didn’t know their limits. They pushed themselves too hard when they should have returned. Wolf glanced at the bones emotionlessly before disregarding them.
To seek power is to risk one’s life, but to die from not knowing your own limits. The disdainful thought passed through Wolf’s mind without the boy even being aware of it. Something about this place had caused that mean streak, which powerlessly stumbled within the depths of his soul, to stir and run wildly.
The smooth wooden tunnel ended in a spiral stone staircase leading down. A regular stonemason fashioned these walls and the steps, which lacked the perfect straightness and smoothness which the wood infected by Sword Aura possessed.
He probably didn’t feel like cutting each block individually, Wolf guessed, while using conscious effort to refer to his past life as a “he”, not an “I”.
The tunnel behind still had some dim natural light. Enough even for a half-human half-elf to see. The staircase ahead, however, descended into pitch blackness.
Elves saw perfectly fine in complete darkness. Even though he wasn’t a pure-blooded elf, Wolf’s night vision was rather good thanks to the power of his soul. With the growth of his soul, Wolf’s perception would improve even further.
Currently, Wolf needed to give his eyes a moment to adjust, before he noticed a faint light down below by which he could see.
The stairway was unexpectedly long, and it took more than a minute of careful stepping to reach the bottom.
After hopping down from the last step, Wolf found himself in yet another long hallway. The whole place glowed with gentle fairy lights. Or at least that’s what the faint glow looked like to Wolf.
The floor before him was paved with bluish-green flagstones, looking kind of like a forest floor. The walls were made from yellowish-green slabs of rock, probably also in an attempt to imitate a natural environment. Whatever the aesthetic idea was, it had missed the mark, not looking natural at all in Wolf’s eyes.
He would’ve carved the hallway better. He was sure of it.
No matter what the intent was, Wolf saw nothing but a faintly glowing chamber. As for the light, it came from those stones. Each slab had some runes engraved into it, pulsing with energy. The light was merely a byproduct of whatever the runes were there for.
Wolf took a step forward. As soon as he set foot on the first engraved flagstone, an emotionless metallic voice rang out from the depths of the hallway.
“Greetings Young Elf. I wish to welcome Young Elf as the… fourth person… to make an attempt at acquiring Honored Master’s legacy. I am the artifact spirit left in charge of the trial. I can guarantee that there is no possibility of me being biased. It is also impossible for me to deviate from Honored Master’s wishes and instructions.”
Wolf listened to the rumbling voice, wondering whether he really looked like an elf enough to be confused for one.
“To acquire Honored Master’s full legacy, Young Elf is expected to reach the third door down this corridor. There are two doors along the way. Once Young Elf reaches them, Young Elf may freely enter the chambers beyond and claim the rewards Young Elf has earned. At any point Young Elf is free to leave the trial and give up on Honored Master’s legacy. However, if Young Elf leaves, Young Elf is no longer eligible for the trial.
“In this hallway, every fifty meters Young Elf will meet an opponent Honored Master has defeated before. The first Monster Beast will be chosen based on Young Elf’s age. The Monster Beast will be one that Honored Master defeated when he was ten years younger than Young Elf is, or when Honored Master was nearest to that age.”
Ten years younger than me? Huh. I wonder how that’s going to work? Wolf wondered while picking his nose and listening to the explanation of the trial format.
“The next monster will be the one that Honored Master defeated a year later. After Young Elf defeats five monsters in this way, Young Elf will be rewarded and considered an In-name Disciple of Honored Master. After Young Elf defeats ten monsters, Young Elf will be considered a Personal Disciple of Honored Master. After Young Elf defeats fifteen monsters, Young Elf will be considered a Legacy Disciple of Honored Master. Young Elf may now begin the trial at their leisure.”
As the words “Young Elf” still buzzed in Wolf’s ears, the boy headed down the hallway.
Twenty meters in, Wolf found a stone shelf with an assortment of swords and daggers. He browsed the blades for a while, then chose the smallest dagger he could find. Compared to the boy's tiny body, the blade was somewhere between a long-sword and a great-sword with an oversized handgrip.
He waved it around for a bit before nodding with satisfaction. For the first time, Wolf held a real sword. Kind of…
It’s a bit too heavy, but I guess it’s good enough, Wolf thought, noticing that even this extremely light weapon put him off balance.
The weapon in Wolf’s hand was so-so, but definitely several grades better than a stick. Tightly holding the seax, the boy went down the corridor, wondering what the trial had in store for him.
Exactly fifty meters away from the entrance, the enchanted flagstone lit up as soon as Wolf’s too tight for comfort boot touched it. A moment later, the rest of the stones lit up as well, and a wolf solidified in front of the boy. Not a lupine Monster Beast, but a common forest wolf with light gray fur and vicious-looking fangs.
The illusion snarled at the boy realistically. Its sudden appearance fascinated Wolf. He just stood there, transfixed, as he tried to find any difference between the illusion and the real thing he’d seen from a distance.
After five seconds of growling, the wolf charged the idle boy, reaching him in two bounds. The motion of the legs didn’t quite match up with the way the wolf maneuvered. The figment’s figure flickered and distorted when moving between flagstones, confirming that this was merely an illusion.
Wolf remained unnaturally calm as he watched the snarling beast leaping towards him. From the front, he only saw the slightest flickers, but even those went by barely noticed.
Faced with an enemy, Wolf didn’t think. He acted solely on instinct. He sidestepped, pivoted, and smoothly brought down the dagger onto the charging wolf’s neck, attempting to behead it.
While the movement was clean and confident, and made Wolf appear as if he were an executioner, it was completely ill-suited for this situation. The dagger’s blade was short, and light, while Wolf’s slash lacked power. He only managed to leave a shallow scratch, barely piercing the wolf’s fur and drawing blood.
Seeing the meager results of his effort, Wolf frowned with dissatisfaction.
I’m too weak to use fancy swordplay, he thought.
When you’re weak, borrow strength. Wolf’s mind raced as the illusory beast turned around and pounced once more.
This time Wolf didn’t dodge. He observed the beast soar through the air with its maw wide open as time seemed to slow down.
The glint of vicious teeth, saliva and stinking breath. All of it seemed incredibly real until they flickered like a candle in the wind. With an all too real glint of steel, Wolf stabbed the dagger, arm and all straight into the snarling jaws. The beast bit down as the blade dug its way into the brain.
For a moment, Wolf felt sharp pain from his arm. Blood started flowing, but in the next moment, the illusion ended, and the pain was gone.
Wolf inspected his arm, unable to find a trace of blood. Even his clothes remained undamaged. He flexed his right hand several times and moved the digits to make sure he wasn’t hurt.
“Congratulations Young Elf. Young Elf has passed the first test and is on the right track to become a disciple of Honored Master. Don’t be overconfident. The first test was the easiest. The tests will get more and more difficult,” the mechanical voice sounded once more with those choppy lines.
Wolf nodded and stopped examining his arm. He was perfectly fine. He could continue like nothing had happened.
The artifact spirit must be in charge of making these illusions, he concluded. I wonder how many different monsters it has prepared?
Fifty meters later, another wolf appeared. This time, using his previous experience, Wolf simply stabbed the illusory creature in the same self-mutilating manner, gritting his teeth against the sharp yet illusory pain.
The boy moved on, and then another wolf appeared, and another, and another. Once Wolf had defeated his fifth namesake, a door appeared to his left.
“In-name Disciple may enter the room to claim the reward,” the artifact spirit proclaimed and Wolf followed its instructions.
Inside the room, he found one hundred small stone pedestals. Atop each of them was a Ring of Holding, surrounded by a shimmering dome. The two pedestals nearest to the door were missing their prize and lacked the protective barrier as well.
As Wolf stepped into the room, the nearest shimmering globe disappeared, leaving behind a ring on the pedestal.
“In-name Disciple may claim the reward,” the artifact spirit’s disembodied voice echoed in the room, but Wolf didn’t really need it to make the proclamation.
The boy picked up the Ring of Holding without hesitation and inspected it just like the one his father gave him. Inside, he found three bottles with a liquid that looked like blood and two scrolls.
“Every In-name Disciple will be awarded three Lesser grade Healing Potions, a scroll with a technique to gather Internal Energy and a scroll on basic sword arts Honored Master practiced,” the metallic voice droned on and on.
Potions were useful. Two scrolls were probably not too valuable, but were worth reading, if only Wolf knew how to read.
The boy placed this new Ring of Holding into the one his father had given him and left the room. As he went down the corridor, he killed five more illusory wolves. Killing his namesakes was kind of depressing.
Has this guy killed anything other than wolves? Wolf wondered as the second door emerged from the wall.
He couldn’t help but muse about the way Lonely Eagle set up the trial. At least he could go through it quickly and without suspense.
As Wolf entered the chamber, the metallic voice once again echoed in the empty hallway.
“Congratulations Personal Disciple,” the artifact spirit started. “Personal Disciple has passed the second test and become Honored Master’s Personal Disciple. Personal Disciple may enter the room to claim their reward.”
Wolf was way ahead of the voice and entered the chamber. Inside he found only twenty-five pedestals, all of which with rings and wards.
“Personal Disciple may claim their reward.”
Wolf snatched the closest ring as soon as the warding dissipated. In it, he found five more potion bottles, a metal vial and three scrolls.
“Every Personal Disciple will be awarded five Moderate grade Healing Potions, a scroll with the second tier of the previously acquired technique to gather Internal Energy and a scroll on advanced sword arts Honored Master practiced,” the voice then paused for a moment. “Also included are the Magma Marrow and a manual describing the use of this marvelous substance.”
The last scroll piqued Wolf’s interest. He retrieved it from the ring and unfurled it only to realize that he couldn’t read what it said.
“Um… Artifact spirit sir, could you read this for me?” Wolf asked sheepishly.
After a moment of silence filled with a child’s trepidation, a metallic yes echoed in the room.
Wolf then waited in awkward silence for a while, but nothing happened.
“Um… Artifact spirit sir. Can you read it now?” he asked, then realized there was another problem with his request.
“And, and could you please read it aloud so that I can hear what you’re saying?”
After a moment of silence, the metallic voice read the content of the scroll.
Archibald's lessons:
All Ten Races of Man speak one language. Monster Beasts communicate using a series of growls and screeches, however legends say that they can learn proper speech. Allegedly, once a Monster Beast’s sentience is high enough, they all understand the language of manlings. And in folktales when a Monster Beast evolves even further it gains the ability to speak our language.
sleepydad88 This chapter was edited thanks to the support from June and July patrons: Auron32, Carla Measner, Connor Kogut, GenericKane, Hammy, Jarloway, Joao Paulo Cambri Fiorin, Johnny Hines, Kai, Magnuss, MrrC, Nonie, Roland Thelefty, shabbybook, Story Seeker, Thundermike00, Tom and warmoger55.
Nothing but the most resilient ferns lived in the shade of the giant oak. The impossibly tall tree loomed over the forest, cloaking it in darkness. Its boundless crown started a hundred meters above the ground, partially obscured by mist.
After a half a year of travel, the father and son finally reached their destination. To an adult, this period of time was neither too long nor too short. For a young boy, on the other hand, it was enough to make his sleeves a tad too short and his shoes uncomfortable.
But those slight discomforts could be ignored now that they were finally here. Mesmerized, Wolf gazed upon the giant tree which blotted out the skies. In the darkness much deeper than in the rest of the primal forest, Wolf made out the distant tree’s trunk. It was wider than any building he’d ever seen.
You can probably fit half the Muddy River’s houses inside it, he thought in awed silence.
His gaze shifted to a vast tangle of moss-covered roots, which stuck out of the ground like a cluster of snakes. The roots were thicker than the most ancient trees he’d seen during this trip.
This was without a doubt the biggest, most majestic tree Wolf had ever seen in his life, as long as it was. And Wolf now considered himself an expert when it came to majestic trees.
Archibald looked for different things. He immediately noticed that there were no signs of animals anywhere. Not even birds and bugs lived here, resulting in the eerily quiet area swallowed by resilient shrubbery. His eyes shifted to a spot from which he felt danger. There, the big man saw a patch devoid of life.
A triangular hole opened into the trunk at ground level and nothing grew within a dozen meters around it.
As they neared it, Archibald confirmed that three smooth cuts were used to make the opening. A thick layer of moss covered the trunk of the Skytouching Oak - a harmless plant type Monster Beast. But not even moss grew near that entrance. In fact, the erratic bark pattern made it look like the tree itself was also trying to flee from the hole.
Wolf, who could see better in this dim lighting, knew that three perfect strokes of a sword had opened this entrance. The walls were absolutely smooth and remained the way they were when he’d first made those cuts.
From inside this deep tunnel a strong Sword Aura radiated, scaring away plants and wildlife alike. Even Archibald, who was less sensitive to swordplay, knew that this was the work of a great Sword-Saint.
“Dad, I think you’ll have to wait somewhere around here,” Wolf said worriedly, unaware of the muddling of his thoughts. “I don’t know how long I'll stay inside. I think it could take more than a week.”
Now that the boy was about to separate from his father for the first time, he wasn’t afraid for himself. Instead, he worried that something might happen to the big man.
Archibald failed to hear the heartwarming display. He stared at those three sword marks with a deep frown. The lingering aura he felt was very familiar, and it brought out some of the most unpleasant memories of his life.
“Son, listen to me carefully,” Archibald said with a hard face. “If you don’t want to enter this place, we can turn around and leave immediately. I won’t get angry. That Sword Aura is very strong and very sharp. The one who made these cuts has killed a huge number of manlings and Monster Beasts. The ones he’d slain with his own hands likely number in the millions.”
The problem was, Archibald only knew of one man who fit that description.
That man had the moniker of Lonely Eagle. He was an elven Sword-Saint who was more than a millennium old. He was so powerful that he single-handedly toppled the incredibly powerful Wolf clan, and brought them to ruin in a matter of days. His intervention also brought the Northshield duchy to a point of collapse without him even taking direct action.
Those were just the man’s deeds which Archibald had personally experienced.
There were countless legends surrounding Lonely Eagle. Some of his feats were even greater than bringing down the elven imperial clan all by himself.
Allegedly, the ancient Sword-Saint ventured into the demon lands for several months. There he slaughtered hordes upon hordes of demons, before safely coming back home just in time before the rift between the worlds closed.
Rumors also stated that Lonely Eagle had slain a Great Red Wyrm, which was a deed far more difficult than toppling the Empire of Elf. It was a feat which officially netted him the title of World Power centuries ago.
“Everything will be fine. We’ve already come all this way.” With those words and a determined look, Wolf bravely walked towards the entrance into the tree.
“Wait up,” Archibald called out and tossed a ring towards Wolf in an arc. “Put that Ring of Holding on. You’ll know how to use it as soon as it’s on your finger. There’s enough water and dry rations in there to last you a month. I even keep some utilities inside, just in case.”
Wolf caught the Ring of Holding. When he put it on his thumb, his face brightened and he grinned. He could sense a bunch of things inside it which were just a thought away from appearing somewhere near him.
“Thanks Dad,” Wolf exclaimed before venturing into the tree’s hollow.
The tunnel sloped downward, slowly descending underground. The one hundred-odd meters of the bare triangular walls were, in fact, the first trial.
The deeper a trial-taker went, the stronger the Sword Aura got. It was so sharp that it could cut apart a person’s soul. About halfway through the tunnel, the Sword Aura became strong enough to snuff out a normal person’s life. However, Wolf felt no danger or pressure as he advanced down the hallway.
The only thing the boy felt was a warm sense of familiarity, of returning to himself. The Sword Aura washed over Wolf like a gentle spring rain, going straight through him without doing the slightest bit of harm.
The sensation was blessedly comfortable. Wolf even had a feeling that if he stayed here for a while, he could recover some memories of his past life.
As that thought sprang up in his mind, Wolf shook off the tug to his soul. He wasn’t the least bit interested in reawakening his old memories.
Based on what he had seen when he was a year old, his past self was a real meanie. Not to mention he hated his dad without even getting to know the man. Wolf’s past self was… an ignorant peasant!
Fighting away the beguiling influence, Wolf pressed forward and at the end of the tunnel found several bleached skeletons lying on the ground.
Those were desperates and fools who didn’t know their limits. They pushed themselves too hard when they should have returned. Wolf glanced at the bones emotionlessly before disregarding them.
To seek power is to risk one’s life, but to die from not knowing your own limits. The disdainful thought passed through Wolf’s mind without the boy even being aware of it. Something about this place had caused that mean streak, which powerlessly stumbled within the depths of his soul, to stir and run wildly.
The smooth wooden tunnel ended in a spiral stone staircase leading down. A regular stonemason fashioned these walls and the steps, which lacked the perfect straightness and smoothness which the wood infected by Sword Aura possessed.
He probably didn’t feel like cutting each block individually, Wolf guessed, while using conscious effort to refer to his past life as a “he”, not an “I”.
The tunnel behind still had some dim natural light. Enough even for a half-human half-elf to see. The staircase ahead, however, descended into pitch blackness.
Elves saw perfectly fine in complete darkness. Even though he wasn’t a pure-blooded elf, Wolf’s night vision was rather good thanks to the power of his soul. With the growth of his soul, Wolf’s perception would improve even further.
Currently, Wolf needed to give his eyes a moment to adjust, before he noticed a faint light down below by which he could see.
The stairway was unexpectedly long, and it took more than a minute of careful stepping to reach the bottom.
After hopping down from the last step, Wolf found himself in yet another long hallway. The whole place glowed with gentle fairy lights. Or at least that’s what the faint glow looked like to Wolf.
The floor before him was paved with bluish-green flagstones, looking kind of like a forest floor. The walls were made from yellowish-green slabs of rock, probably also in an attempt to imitate a natural environment. Whatever the aesthetic idea was, it had missed the mark, not looking natural at all in Wolf’s eyes.
He would’ve carved the hallway better. He was sure of it.
No matter what the intent was, Wolf saw nothing but a faintly glowing chamber. As for the light, it came from those stones. Each slab had some runes engraved into it, pulsing with energy. The light was merely a byproduct of whatever the runes were there for.
Wolf took a step forward. As soon as he set foot on the first engraved flagstone, an emotionless metallic voice rang out from the depths of the hallway.
“Greetings Young Elf. I wish to welcome Young Elf as the… fourth person… to make an attempt at acquiring Honored Master’s legacy. I am the artifact spirit left in charge of the trial. I can guarantee that there is no possibility of me being biased. It is also impossible for me to deviate from Honored Master’s wishes and instructions.”
Wolf listened to the rumbling voice, wondering whether he really looked like an elf enough to be confused for one.
“To acquire Honored Master’s full legacy, Young Elf is expected to reach the third door down this corridor. There are two doors along the way. Once Young Elf reaches them, Young Elf may freely enter the chambers beyond and claim the rewards Young Elf has earned. At any point Young Elf is free to leave the trial and give up on Honored Master’s legacy. However, if Young Elf leaves, Young Elf is no longer eligible for the trial.
“In this hallway, every fifty meters Young Elf will meet an opponent Honored Master has defeated before. The first Monster Beast will be chosen based on Young Elf’s age. The Monster Beast will be one that Honored Master defeated when he was ten years younger than Young Elf is, or when Honored Master was nearest to that age.”
Ten years younger than me? Huh. I wonder how that’s going to work? Wolf wondered while picking his nose and listening to the explanation of the trial format.
“The next monster will be the one that Honored Master defeated a year later. After Young Elf defeats five monsters in this way, Young Elf will be rewarded and considered an In-name Disciple of Honored Master. After Young Elf defeats ten monsters, Young Elf will be considered a Personal Disciple of Honored Master. After Young Elf defeats fifteen monsters, Young Elf will be considered a Legacy Disciple of Honored Master. Young Elf may now begin the trial at their leisure.”
As the words “Young Elf” still buzzed in Wolf’s ears, the boy headed down the hallway.
Twenty meters in, Wolf found a stone shelf with an assortment of swords and daggers. He browsed the blades for a while, then chose the smallest dagger he could find. Compared to the boy's tiny body, the blade was somewhere between a long-sword and a great-sword with an oversized handgrip.
He waved it around for a bit before nodding with satisfaction. For the first time, Wolf held a real sword. Kind of…
It’s a bit too heavy, but I guess it’s good enough, Wolf thought, noticing that even this extremely light weapon put him off balance.
The weapon in Wolf’s hand was so-so, but definitely several grades better than a stick. Tightly holding the seax, the boy went down the corridor, wondering what the trial had in store for him.
Exactly fifty meters away from the entrance, the enchanted flagstone lit up as soon as Wolf’s too tight for comfort boot touched it. A moment later, the rest of the stones lit up as well, and a wolf solidified in front of the boy. Not a lupine Monster Beast, but a common forest wolf with light gray fur and vicious-looking fangs.
The illusion snarled at the boy realistically. Its sudden appearance fascinated Wolf. He just stood there, transfixed, as he tried to find any difference between the illusion and the real thing he’d seen from a distance.
After five seconds of growling, the wolf charged the idle boy, reaching him in two bounds. The motion of the legs didn’t quite match up with the way the wolf maneuvered. The figment’s figure flickered and distorted when moving between flagstones, confirming that this was merely an illusion.
Wolf remained unnaturally calm as he watched the snarling beast leaping towards him. From the front, he only saw the slightest flickers, but even those went by barely noticed.
Faced with an enemy, Wolf didn’t think. He acted solely on instinct. He sidestepped, pivoted, and smoothly brought down the dagger onto the charging wolf’s neck, attempting to behead it.
While the movement was clean and confident, and made Wolf appear as if he were an executioner, it was completely ill-suited for this situation. The dagger’s blade was short, and light, while Wolf’s slash lacked power. He only managed to leave a shallow scratch, barely piercing the wolf’s fur and drawing blood.
Seeing the meager results of his effort, Wolf frowned with dissatisfaction.
I’m too weak to use fancy swordplay, he thought.
When you’re weak, borrow strength. Wolf’s mind raced as the illusory beast turned around and pounced once more.
This time Wolf didn’t dodge. He observed the beast soar through the air with its maw wide open as time seemed to slow down.
The glint of vicious teeth, saliva and stinking breath. All of it seemed incredibly real until they flickered like a candle in the wind. With an all too real glint of steel, Wolf stabbed the dagger, arm and all straight into the snarling jaws. The beast bit down as the blade dug its way into the brain.
For a moment, Wolf felt sharp pain from his arm. Blood started flowing, but in the next moment, the illusion ended, and the pain was gone.
Wolf inspected his arm, unable to find a trace of blood. Even his clothes remained undamaged. He flexed his right hand several times and moved the digits to make sure he wasn’t hurt.
“Congratulations Young Elf. Young Elf has passed the first test and is on the right track to become a disciple of Honored Master. Don’t be overconfident. The first test was the easiest. The tests will get more and more difficult,” the mechanical voice sounded once more with those choppy lines.
Wolf nodded and stopped examining his arm. He was perfectly fine. He could continue like nothing had happened.
The artifact spirit must be in charge of making these illusions, he concluded. I wonder how many different monsters it has prepared?
Fifty meters later, another wolf appeared. This time, using his previous experience, Wolf simply stabbed the illusory creature in the same self-mutilating manner, gritting his teeth against the sharp yet illusory pain.
The boy moved on, and then another wolf appeared, and another, and another. Once Wolf had defeated his fifth namesake, a door appeared to his left.
“In-name Disciple may enter the room to claim the reward,” the artifact spirit proclaimed and Wolf followed its instructions.
Inside the room, he found one hundred small stone pedestals. Atop each of them was a Ring of Holding, surrounded by a shimmering dome. The two pedestals nearest to the door were missing their prize and lacked the protective barrier as well.
As Wolf stepped into the room, the nearest shimmering globe disappeared, leaving behind a ring on the pedestal.
“In-name Disciple may claim the reward,” the artifact spirit’s disembodied voice echoed in the room, but Wolf didn’t really need it to make the proclamation.
The boy picked up the Ring of Holding without hesitation and inspected it just like the one his father gave him. Inside, he found three bottles with a liquid that looked like blood and two scrolls.
“Every In-name Disciple will be awarded three Lesser grade Healing Potions, a scroll with a technique to gather Internal Energy and a scroll on basic sword arts Honored Master practiced,” the metallic voice droned on and on.
Potions were useful. Two scrolls were probably not too valuable, but were worth reading, if only Wolf knew how to read.
The boy placed this new Ring of Holding into the one his father had given him and left the room. As he went down the corridor, he killed five more illusory wolves. Killing his namesakes was kind of depressing.
Has this guy killed anything other than wolves? Wolf wondered as the second door emerged from the wall.
He couldn’t help but muse about the way Lonely Eagle set up the trial. At least he could go through it quickly and without suspense.
As Wolf entered the chamber, the metallic voice once again echoed in the empty hallway.
“Congratulations Personal Disciple,” the artifact spirit started. “Personal Disciple has passed the second test and become Honored Master’s Personal Disciple. Personal Disciple may enter the room to claim their reward.”
Wolf was way ahead of the voice and entered the chamber. Inside he found only twenty-five pedestals, all of which with rings and wards.
“Personal Disciple may claim their reward.”
Wolf snatched the closest ring as soon as the warding dissipated. In it, he found five more potion bottles, a metal vial and three scrolls.
“Every Personal Disciple will be awarded five Moderate grade Healing Potions, a scroll with the second tier of the previously acquired technique to gather Internal Energy and a scroll on advanced sword arts Honored Master practiced,” the voice then paused for a moment. “Also included are the Magma Marrow and a manual describing the use of this marvelous substance.”
The last scroll piqued Wolf’s interest. He retrieved it from the ring and unfurled it only to realize that he couldn’t read what it said.
“Um… Artifact spirit sir, could you read this for me?” Wolf asked sheepishly.
After a moment of silence filled with a child’s trepidation, a metallic yes echoed in the room.
Wolf then waited in awkward silence for a while, but nothing happened.
“Um… Artifact spirit sir. Can you read it now?” he asked, then realized there was another problem with his request.
“And, and could you please read it aloud so that I can hear what you’re saying?”
After a moment of silence, the metallic voice read the content of the scroll.
Archibald's lessons:
All Ten Races of Man speak one language. Monster Beasts communicate using a series of growls and screeches, however legends say that they can learn proper speech. Allegedly, once a Monster Beast’s sentience is high enough, they all understand the language of manlings. And in folktales when a Monster Beast evolves even further it gains the ability to speak our language.
sleepydad88 This chapter was edited thanks to the support from June and July patrons: Auron32, Carla Measner, Connor Kogut, GenericKane, Hammy, Jarloway, Joao Paulo Cambri Fiorin, Johnny Hines, Kai, Magnuss, MrrC, Nonie, Roland Thelefty, shabbybook, Story Seeker, Thundermike00, Tom and warmoger55.
