An area of the 'map', per se, that provided the most protection by 'plot armour'.
By logical fallacy, it would be stupid for such a powerful mage, such as h̵̯͛̇i̷̖̒͋̐̓̌̆̌̽̐̈́̒m̴̭̬̻̹̫͔͖͍͕͋̓͆̇̃́ to slowly plant the seeds of doubt inside the kingdom, which ultimately lead to its fall.
H̷͉̑̋̐̈́́͗e̸̟̊͝ is someone who could have easily broken through and fucked up the cast.
Sure, you can argue that it was the strategic move, but I know for a fact that ẖ̴̹̹̝͈̌̀ĭ̶̦̲̘̭̺̫͖͚͉̝̉̎̊̌̇̽̎̀̑͑̽s̶̱̺̠̭̦̊̈́̾͊̒̏̉͝ team has the firepower to do so.
So why?
Why would he not enter the Capital of Elenos?
Because there's a narrative blockade. That's the likely reason.
Therefore, it would be in my best interest to head to this 'narrative' fortress.
Not to mention the security it provides in terms of Magic.
Isaac flashes back. The Institute is protected by the headmaster, A Paragoned-Class Mage, approximately 17-Stars in terms of the EAA. His name, Headmaster Orthellius Sol Tharis. Holder of achievements such as:
"The Sigil of the First Spark"
An award granted to esteemed mages who have made unconventional developments to magecraft, or as the game puts "where raw instinct meets arcane theory"
"The Prime Arcanum Laureate"
An award to those who have dedicated their lives to magecraft. Those who have perfected the 4 main elements, I.E, Earth, Wind, Water and Fire
And most importantly:
"The Oculus of Infinite Thesis"
An hourglass given to scholars whose body of work becomes indispensable—their papers are literally woven into the kingdom's defensive wards. Only 1 exists in a single kingdom and will be passed on upon the holder's death.
I'm sure that he or the sovereign has sufficient strength to protect me. Even if that boss has the authority to rewrite the game. His power should be limited to some degree.
That settles it.
In death's void, I saw a message about the main storyline being infected.
If this is true, only God knows how much this 'plague' has spread already.
Therefore, orientation is needed.
I should head there to inspect the corrosion, if not, try and fix it.
Aight. Let's go.
.
.
.
Uhm… Hmm… How the hell am I gonna reach the Institute? Am I even in the Elenos Kingdom?Considering how vast the EAA's map is, it would be a fortune to be even put in a native kingdom.
Ah!
Isaac got off the poor Ritualist and undid his tear-soaked cloth choker.
"FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU!!! IT HURTS SO FUCKING MUCH. I'll FUCKING KILL YO一"
A stomp to the back of the knee, directly against the wound.
Another scream of pain.
"Answer me quickly if you want to die faster. Where are we?"
"SHUT THE FUCK UP! I'll KILL YOU!"
"Tsk… Uhhh… You chose this outcome, okay? Remember, it's YOUR fault."
Contrary to Isaac's belief, he would never subject any person to such treatment.
Ever.
But…
To him. Everything in this world was still an aspect of a game.
NPCs included.
This bloody bum.
Know your place.
Isaac raises his arm and brings down the dagger against his thigh.
Again. Another cry of pain.
"Where. Are. We?"
"OKAY! OKAY! WERE IN THE ROTSHADE CANOPY!!! JUST KILL ME, PLEASE!!!"
"Wrong answer," He twists the dagger. "Where is the Capital of Elenos?"
"UP NORTH! UP NORTH! STOP!!!"
"Last question. Which Esoteric Art do you follow? What is an Esoteric Kabbalist? What is the 8th Quaternion? And, can you use Magic?"
"Magic??? I-I can't say…"
"ANSWER ME!"
"I CAN'T SAY!"
"FUCKING ANSWER ME!!!"
"FINE!!! I FOLLOW THE GRE一"
But what followed was not an answer.
But rather.
The Sacrifier being sacrificed.
Ritualist Matthew's form began to contort along impossible axes, folding in and out, an oscillation between scream and silence.
Isaac immediately tore the dagger free and stumbled backwards at the mathematical horror in front of him.
What the fuck???
When the folding ceased, what remained was no longer Ritualist Matthew but rather his heart, pulsing with no vessel in sight. The rest of his body had collapsed, folded upon itself into infinite macroscopic compression beyond human comprehension.
Did he just…
Hah… I see how it is.
A truth.
There is something…
Something out there that doesn't want its identity revealed.
But…
FUCK.
I should have gotten more information out of him. If only I rephrased the last question to ask what Quaternions and Esoteric Kabbalists are…
Sigh~
No looking back, I don't have a lot of time either way… At least he gave me coordinates.
Isaac climbed atop a lichen-crusted house and cast his gaze across the horizon. The rising suns split the land into conflicting shadows.
Since I'm in the Rotshade Canopy. South should be about…
Hm?
Isaac narrowed his eyes against the sun. There, half a league east, rose the jagged silhouette of a towering spiral, a stone protrusion thrust from the earth.
Stormbreak Spiral, its peak pierced the dark clouds above.
A landmark of the game's first great act.
He exhaled in quiet relief.
Phew… The Institute is a two-day trek beyond. Approximately 144 kilometres? Well. So be it.
The course was set. He leapt down, bones protesting, yet breaking into a sprint.
…
Instantly regretting it.
FUCK. Not a good idea.
Jeez, how weak is this body?
Isaac's lungs smouldered, his legs faltering after scarcely minutes of exertion. At last, he bent forward, hands pressed to his knees, drawing breaths.
In the game, the protagonist's journeys had never been about cardio and stamina…
Yet here.
I am NOT him.
Not an avatar but a frail interloper, consigned to fcking suffer every indignity of this shitty body.
A crack resounded from the undergrowth.
Huh?
He stilled.
The Rotshade Canopy was never a place of benignity. Its inhabitants, though lesser than the Myconids, bore no reticence in claiming blood.
Slowly, he straightened, his gaze settling upon the swaying gloom. Motion stirred, too substantial for a hare, too deliberate to be harmless.
At length, it revealed itself: an Ophiocervus, near two meters in stature.
Its serpentine neck coiled, the scaled hide glimmering with an obsidian sheen, while the scimitar-like antlers lowered in silent menace. Within the game's taxonomy, such a creature was deemed an Adept-Class Monster, four stars in strength, standing scarcely a rank beneath the dreaded Myconids.
Isaac, by contrast, was but an Intermediate-Class Mage, no more than two stars.
The beast hissed before it lunged.
Isaac flung himself aside, striking the soil with bruising force as the antlers tore through the earth where he had stood moments prior.
Scrambling upright, he drew the dagger he had plundered from the Ritualist.
He swung it downwards with great resolve. The metal glided down against the creature's hide, leaving no scar whatsoever.
It scarcely acknowledged the blow.
Stamina: 24% |
Are you kidding me…
Isaac retreated at a pace; the disparity between him and the serpent was undeniable.
No weapons. A shitty stamina pool. No plan. But I got something for you, you damn snake.
By Isaac's own calculation, the arithmetic was simple:
Each Wind Slash, a 1-Star Spell, had consumed twenty mana points from his mana reserves.
Thus, a Second-Star invocation would cost forty, a Third-Star, eighty. As seen before his third death.
With a reservoir of two hundred fifty, and one hundred eighty-nine still present, he could risk four Two-Star Spells or entrust himself to two Three-Star Spells.
Either four 'Bursts' or two 'Gale Javelins'.
Remaining MP: 189/250 |
The Ophiocervus wrenched its antlers free of the ground, poised for another strike. Isaac, in turn, raised his arm, mind balancing the imagery of explosion and spear, both ready to be summoned at need.
A standoff followed: the ravenous predator and the desperate intruder, each suffused with killing intent, each waiting upon the other's misstep.
The silence is dreadfully long. But just as fast as that silence begins, the Ophiocervus breaks the quiet with a hiss and a lunge.
"Gale Javel-"
Isaac halted mid-incantation.
The Ophiocervus undulated laterally, its body cutting in a sinuous S.
Antlers, curved like scythes, drove toward his torso.
But Isaac had anticipated this.
At least these haven't changed. They always came from the side, either way.
"Burst!" His voice rang out, strained yet resolute.
Stun and disorientate. Concussive straight to the head.
His left palm was braced beneath his right tricep. By unclenching his fist, a torrent of compressed wind detonated from his hand. The concussive blast diverted the antlers, the force staggering the beast which it exposing its underbelly.
Remaining MP: 150/250 |
Duck. Shovel Hook. Pierce.
Seizing the instant, Isaac ducked low and drove the dagger into the soft flesh beneath its exoskeleton. Logically, the skin parted like crushing a grape. Inside the belly, his nails scrape against its muscle.
Last but not least. Execute.
"Burst!"
This time, the spell was released from within. A grotesque erupted through its viscera, wind pressure ballooning against the confines of armoured scale.
What nature had perfected for survival became the instrument of its demise. The implosion tore the creature asunder from within, spraying the clearing with flesh fragments and ruptured organs.
Seriously? That's it?
Also EWWWWW.
Remaining MP: 110/250 |
Stamina: 5% |
Isaac stood trembling, his chest heaving with exhaustion as he tucked the dagger back into its scabbard.
Judgement?. Victory belonged to Isaac, without hesitation, without doubt.
GG EZ shit. No spell cooldown for me to follow, unlike the game.
I'mma just start spamming this shit.
Get rekt.
Yet the price of adrenaline weighed heavily, his vision blurred, and his limbs sagged.
There was that iron tinge on his tongue as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Around him, a messy scene of guts and gore, with Isaac being covered in it.
But. Even for a moment, the forest gave him solitude.
Although calming. It was a blessing in disguise.
No witnesses would mean no questions, and questions, especially from the Institute, that could cause him trouble.
Then came the flicker of the system.
At its sight, he smiled despite the ache.
Hehehehe
Vitality: 2-Star → 3-Star |
Agility: 2-Star → 3-Star |
Thank you~
An improvement, meagre yet invaluable.
With a step, he passed the mangled corpse of the Ophiocervus, setting his gaze upon the horizon where the silhouette of the Stormbreak Spiral was.
Two days of walking, two days through this damn world with no game mechanics.
That's aigh't though. So long as I get there before the boss is stunned by the system, then it's fine.
He accepted the truth grimly: he was an outsider of this world, one unfit to belong, but resolved to carve his mark by force.
. . .
Fuuuuucking heeeell… Even with the upgrade in vitality and agility, this body is still shit.
Two hours in, Isaac's body screamed in protest, though the stat-improvement steadied his breath and kept his stride from collapse. Still, it was insufficient. Every wasted second invited agony greater than exhaustion.
If stamina betrayed me, then mana can serve me instead, right?
His mind sifted through the arcana of EAA's Wind Noësis.
'Float', a Novice-Class Spell, 4-Star, that could work. But my mana reservoir is too shit, so nah.
Lethal. I'd die if I launched myself a bit too high.
'Flight'? Adept-Class, 5-Star spell…
Hell nah, even worse.
That leaves two choices: 'Tempest Leap' and 'Wind Walker'. The first one is broken limbs without reinforcement.
The second, ehhhh… I think that works.
'Wind Walker' it is.