Chapter Sixty two: Sparkle
Chapter Sixty two: Sparkle
Hawk flicks his hand quickly which redirects a spire that was about to hit the boy. The magic coming to his call quickly and accurately without removing his [Camouflage] ability that he had kept active the entire time since he followed Franky into the dungeon.
Flicking another hand, he redirects another spire as it was about to strike Franky again.
The boy had fought and won splendidly throughout the whole dungeon. Granted, the dungeon was very young to begin with but was still a great danger to any single combatant.
But the boy survived and even defeated the boss that defends the dungeon core. It was an impressive win, but it seems the boy’s understanding of the dungeon is lacking considering he had been surprised over the trembling.
Young dungeons aren’t adept at creating reinforced structures, instead, they use their mana to keep the dungeon from falling on itself.
Thankfully, Franky turns and runs out of the boss room with Hawk unseen on his heels.
Exiting out of the room, Hawk finds Franky still running even though this part of the cave is relatively structurally sound. Regardless, he follows for a good half hour before Franky runs out of the dungeon, breathing hard.
Hawk, on the other hand, isn’t out of breath at all. Several skills including a large stamina stat have helped him keep pace without even a sweat.
“Why the hell did that happen? Nobody told me the room was going to be trapped.”
Not trapped, but older dungeons do have a tendency to use traps.
The boy takes a couple of minutes to reorient himself before he takes off his bag and opens it.
He grabs the [Tree Whisper] from the bag and walks to a tree, “This better work,” he says before stabbing the tree.
The next thing the boy does almost makes Hawk begin to laugh as he places the stone itself upon the enchanted wood.
Sylva, what have you told this boy? What need is a dungeon stone? Hawk thinks as he suppresses a laugh.
Thanks to his [Greater Mana Sense], Hawk is able to watch as the boy sends mana into the stick.
“Sylva, I’m done. Come and get me,” the boy pauses a moment, frowning, “please.” he adds at the end.
It doesn’t take long as Hawk senses a mana signature form before Sylva appears with a smile on her face.
“Franky, it seems you have done an amazing job. How was your first solo dungeon experience?”
Franky opens his mouth to say something, but pauses, “It was good and I leveled a bit. Thank you for the experience.”
Sylva’s smile widens at the answer.
Had the boy figured it out? Maybe…
Sylva claps her hands together, “Good, good, I am glad. I will continue to find more dungeons, but in the meantime, how about you rest. You look rather disheveled,” she says as she walks up to him, her hand moving on his shoulder.
Not a moment passes as they both disappear and Hawk disables his [Camouflage] skill.
He walks to the tree and grabs the [Tree Whisper] as well as the dungeon core. He looks at the core closely.
Hmm, a tier-one dungeon though it looks like it would soon turn into a tier two if left alone for another couple months.
Hawk pockets the items and turns towards the mana signature.
Sylva shows up, her gaze meeting his.
“Well Hawk, how did he do?”
Hawk takes a second to compile his thoughts before he speaks,” Far better than I expected. The boy had been careful in moving through the dungeon and had adapted to the situations throughout it. He even defeated an awakened that had evolved to spit acid.”
Sylva raises an eyebrow at that, “Oh, and you didn’t help him or show your presence throughout the dungeon?” she asks.
Hawk nods, “ I only helped him after he had already taken the core. The room was collapsing and I made sure he wasn’t killed by the debris. My presence was hidden the entire time. I would have known if he knew I was there.”
“Good,” Sylva says as her hands touch her hips,“ as long as he believes he is fully endangered, then his leveling should be significant. Which I’m sure you noticed,” she adds with a smirk.
Hawk can only scratch his head at that, “Indeed. He gained several levels in all of his classes and even five levels in his [Hero] class when he took the core. I didn’t believe you when you said [Heroes] level fast, but that is amazing.”
Sylva nods, “Good, then you should have no problems over having your daughter join him in these dives.”
Hawk turns angry,” No, that is too dangerous! What if she is hurt? Or worse?” he exclaims quickly.
Sylva only smiles, “Hawk, she ran from you because of your overprotective nature. Just because she is back doesn’t mean you can dictate her life. She is her own woman, and I will offer her the choice if she so chooses.”
“I will stop her,” he says but Sylva only answers with a smile as the trees in the surrounding vicinity shift.
“Really now, and how will you do that?” she says with a hidden force. A threat.
Hawk gulps as he takes a step back, his senses telling him that the roots underneath the ground are wiggling too.
“I will tell my wife abo-,”
Sylva waves her hand, “Go ahead, I have already spoken to her and she requested I make sure that the dungeons are of at least Tier-three. She also told me to tell you not to baby her daughter.”
Hawk takes a moment as he grinds his teeth in frustration. He is a level 207 [Ranger Knight Archmage], the only one of his kind, but it all means nothing against someone who has such a powerful Domain. If he fought now, he would be captured and given to his wife.
Hawk shakes as he thinks about the punishment he would be forced to endure.
He sighs and relaxes, “fine,” he says defeated.
Sylva smiles and claps her hand as she walks up to him, grabs his arm and the scenery changes instantly.
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A muscular man with a short white beard steps forward, his gaze strong and steady. The man looks as though he is sixty but is in reality far older. His clothing is of great quality while his sheer presence would make even high level [Lords] impressed.
The man looks completely human except for the two white-haired ears on his head and an old bushy tail of similar color.
He is a wolfkin, arguably the strongest of the demi human races. Unfortunately, they are only present in the central north, a land always shrouded in constant and complete darkness. A land avoided by all the nations that reside on Orbis.
The man touches his neck, feeling the old spiked enchanted colar wrapped around it. He is, in name, a slave, as are his brothers within the chamber.
Twelve of his kin are on one knee, daggers in their hands as they circle a central figure. A husk of a woman. A corpse to so many. But such thinking is mere ignorance.
“Begin,” his words are said neither loudly or softly. Just normally, but to his kind, it is heard easily and as clearly as though he were shouting.
The twelve wolfkins slit their wrists and allow their lifeblood to flow into the center. The blood touches the women’s skin and is quickly absorbed. Minutes go by and the former husk begins to gain color, the wrinkly skin turning a glossy smooth white.
“That will be enough,” he says and the wolfkins cover their wounds, healing the cut in mere seconds right after.
The man walks forward as he gazes down towards the naked women. Her crimson eyes open and stare at him. She frowns.
“Garm, my revival is several decades too early,” she says with a hint of annoyance.
Garm takes a knee, “Apologies my [Lady], but the Panoptic requests your presence.”
She frowns at his words and raises herself. No blood is on her body, all of it had been absorbed. She looks down towards Garm who continues to be on his knee, as do the twelve others surrounding her.
“Her request could have waited decades,” the woman says while licking her lips, feeling her two rather long and sharp teeth,” but you still chose to awaken me Garm. What did she say?”
Garm stays unmoving as he opens his mouth, “She said that what you most desire is obtainable.”
The women’s red eyes begin to glow as a smile forms on her lips. Ony filled with happiness and the incoming hunt.
“Stand Garm, we will meet her immediately.”
Garm nods and stands, his hand flicks and one of the wolfkin steps up and runs towards the entrance to the chamber and picks up a fur coat. He brings it to Garm who takes it and hands it to the women. She takes the coat and wraps it around her naked hairless body.
“I will need some proper aparell first. Let us go into my chambers Garm,” she says and Garm nods as he turns, his lady walking behind him.
They travel silently for about ten seconds before the woman speaks.
“You have grown Garm. Over level two hundred now. With your strength, it should be easy to be rid of that collar.”
Garm touches his collar, his thumb rubbing the old metal. “My life belongs to only you my [Lady].”
Unfortunately, without looking back, Garm was not able to see the expression of surprise upon her face. One not even she herself was ready for. But it only lasts a fraction of a second.
She continues to follow him, her bare feet touching the colored tiled floor of the hallway. The walls stand strong and she takes a moment to look at the murals of battles, of blood, and of monsters.
The hallway ends into the living area of a massive mansion. Garn continues unimpeded and walks up some stairs until he arrives at a magnificently carved wooden door. He opens it and moves to the side, “My [Lady]” he says directing her within. She walks, her feet now touching a fluffy carpet. Bowing on one knee are three girls, each with many levels in the [Handmaiden] class.
But the women only takes a quick glance before moving to her wardrobe. She opens it and smiles at her available dresses.
“Bring me panties and a bra, both colored red. I’m feeling in a good mood right now.”
The three [Handmaidens] stand and quickly move while the women looks forward.
“Garm, tell me, has much changed in the world since my slumber?”
Garm, standing at the door, begins to speak.
“Since your slumber, the other covens have been doing what they do best.”
The women removes her cloak and allows it to fall upon the floor, “so they squabble over paltry amounts of power while attending those boring orgies,” she exclaims, shaking her head, “So boring and weak. Anything else?”
“Two years ago, the Cape of Inexistence was stolen and has yet to be found.”
Her eyes widen as she snorts, “Hah, I can only imagine the elders must be rather angry. A divine item like that, lost is a rather big blow to their pride.”
“My [Lady]”
Her gaze moves and lands upon two [Handmaidens] which hold up panties and a bra respectively.
She grabs them and slowly put them on while allowing one of them to strap the bra on her back.
“Also, the gods have recently summoned a large number of [Heroes].”
The woman stops adjusting her breasts as her gaze switches to Garm in curiosity. A [Hero] summoning and her awakening seems like there is a relation.
“Explain.”
Garm grunts, “Recent reports reveal that Odin and Zeus have both summoned several [Heroes], though the actual number is still unknown, though one has already died.”
“Died? How?” she asks while grabbing a rather fitting red dress.
“Well, it seems that Zeus had failed the summoning and that many [Heroes] had been cast off throughout Orbis. One such had been captured by the elders.”
“Ahhh, and that one had died. Wasteful.”
“Indeed my [Lady]. The elders had attempted to change the [Hero] into your kind, but was found immune. Thus, instead, they attempted the Blood of Classes to attempt to transfer the [Heroes] class to one of the elders.”
“Oh? And what happened? My guess is that it failed and the [Hero] died.” she says amused.
“On the contrary, the [Hero] died but the transfer was a success. Elder Ging had succeeded and then shortly after, fell dead.”
The [Lady] begins to laugh, ”Oh what glorious news. Now only five are left. I do wonder how much his death will change the power struggle now that one of the covens had lost their head.”
The lady hums happily as she puts on her dress, one of the [Handmaidens] helping her put it on. She turns and is surprised by the third handmaiden who waits by a chair. Red nail polish on the table as well as blood red heels.
The [Lady] gazes at the [Handmaiden], taking a good look at the aged expression compared to the other two before she realizes it.
“Hanna, you still live? I thought humans age poorly.” she exclaims before calling up a skill.
Hanna Astorca
Level 87 [Handmaiden]
“Before your slumber, I obtained the skill [Servants Kinship]. It has allowed me to age slower while you exist.”
The [Lady] smiles at the misunderstanding of the skill. The skill itself allows the women to gain a portion of her mistress’s stats. In this case, she had gained an enormous amount of vitality.
But the [Lady] does not attempt to correct, instead she walks to the chair and sits, allowing her nails to be polished. Hanna does so quickly and expertly, the polish drying in mere seconds of being applied. Hanna then puts on the heels and steps back.
The [Lady] lady rises and turns to Garm who waits patiently.
“How do I look,” she asks making a twirl.
“Splendidly,” he says, the same answer he had given her every time she had ever asked.
“Then let us go, my curiosity can only take so much.”
Garm leads his [Lady] outside, a carriage waiting with magic runes carved throughout. It floats above the ground, a wyvern waiting at the front.
Garm helps her enter before entering himself again. He feels four of his men step on top of the carriage before the [Beastmaster] orders the wyvern to move.
The wyvern takes flight and the carriage as well.
The [Lady] gazes outside the window, staring at her city, the farms, and of course the massive fighting coliseum in the center. A training ground for her combatants. It is those combatants that have given the [Lady] enough power to own a city and be left alone by her coven.
“Garm, how have the fights been going? Are we still rank nine in the coliseums?” she asks knowing that she is not the only one who gains prestige through winning the coliseum challenges.
“No, we are rank three now. I have modified many of the training regimes and classes to help level and improve.”
The [Lady] raises an eyebrow at the unauthorized change, but stops as she realizes that they are now rank three.
“Ohh, what changes did you make?” she asks the man who sits unmoving, eyes constantly changing and looking for threats.
“I have stopped the training of [Gladiators] and instead allowed the recipients to choose a class.”
The [Lady] looks at Garm utterly confused. She was under the impression that [Gladiators] are the best combatants in an arena. She is about to voice her objection but stops as the carriage shakes and the wyvern lands.
“We are here,” he says as her gaze changes to the window. Towards a massive spire that ascends into the ever present pitch-black clouds.