Chương 271

As the spatial containment faded, the pitch-black [Null Laser] tore through the grove. A tidal wave of earth and roots met the beam and simply unspooled, their molecular bonds unraveling into drifting subatomic dust in silence. The black light punched through the defensive wall without pause and struck the Troll Shaman squarely in the chest. Its tattoos flared brightly, attempting to command the surrounding life mana to heal the wound, but the magic found no purchase.

[Null Laser] cleaved a two-foot-wide cylinder through the monster's torso, erasing its heart, staff, and spine in a single strike. The beam continued outward, carving a vast trench through the ancient ironwood trees for another hundred yards before Orion finally severed the flow of mana. The remnants of the Shaman's upper half slid backward, landing in the dirt with a heavy thud.

Orion dropped to one knee, gasping for air as the toxic mist slowly began to dissipate, but a familiar sensation at the back of his mind, along with the rush of power that accompanied it, gave him the strength to stand back up. System Notification Personally defeated [Ironwood Troll Shaman] [Lv. 121] Major Level Disparity Bonus Applied. New concepts applied in spellcasting. A spell, [Null Laser], has broken its previous limits. +3, 950, 000 Exp Level Up! Level Up! Level Up! Level Up! Level Up! Level 95.

Orion let out a long, shaky exhale as the System's energy washed through his exhausted muscles, lending him new strength. He was agonizingly close to the third tier, yet he knew the final five levels would require even more experience. It was unfortunate, but he couldn't rely solely on farming the Ironwood to close the gap. Although he was confident he had already achieved enough to guarantee some very interesting class evolutions, he was not prepared to confront another danger similar to the Shaman.

Additionally, time was too limited to hunt for the number of weaker creatures he'd need. Not that it would help much. If the spiders were any indication, it would take hundreds to get a similar amount of exp as this lone orc, and I sincerely doubt I could take on that many, or that I wouldn't stir up a much more powerful monster by going on such a rampage. Asteria dropped from the branches, floating above the smooth, glass-like edge of the trench Orion's spell had carved through the forest.

She looked at the devastation, then at the monster's smoking remains, and finally at him.

"Well, I suppose you are my son," she said with a smirk.

"Someone once told me I had the nasty tendency to obliterate the monsters I was supposed to hunt and harvest, so you might have inherited that from me." Orion blinked wearily before realizing she was likely referring to the time she'd spent adventuring with Antares around Cyril. She rarely spoke of the man and almost never of those days, but looking at her now, he couldn't see any sign of the usual pain that accompanied those memories. He shook his head, refocusing.

"I had the best teacher," he answered with a tired grin, and she huffed out a laugh. Two hours later, they were back in the druid village, and Orion was freshly washed. He'd even found time to bring his lab coat to the Sanctum quartermaster, who'd bathed it in alchemical washes to remove all the dirt and detritus it had accumulated after the enchantments failed, and had even applied new ones upon it. Feeling much better with it on, Orion stepped through the flaps of the tent he'd been told his team was assembling.

Six people stood around a wide map table, their low conversation halting as the canvas flap fell shut behind him. Orion immediately activated his glasses, letting the Arcane Overlay pull data directly from the System. He wanted to know exactly who he was going to war with. I doubt anyone will be as powerful as Mom or as dutiful as Pauline, but I hope at least they won't slow me down. He knew that theirs was just one of many teams being assembled all along the front lines.

There would likely be more than one operating within this same theater, in fact. But Orion still felt he would have a bigger role to play in the war, and whether it was misplaced arrogance, he wanted to be sure he wasn't dragging unsuspecting people into the messes that usually followed him. To his surprise, he didn't even need to read the data streams to recognize more than one person. The first face he saw was that of a young man in polished silver armor, one he knew all too well.

Jordan Flanel looked taller and broader than he had in Valderun. The cheerful, training-obsessed squire was gone, replaced by a somber veteran whose eyes seemed to have darkened over the past months. Jordan Flanel - Burgeoning Light of Hope The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

Class: [Paladin of the Dawn] [A-rank] Level: 115 Mind: 399 Body: 711 Attunement: 617 Traits: [Magic Resistance] [A-rank]; [Righteous Aura] [A-rank]; [Martial Paragon] [A-rank]; Internal Mana Manipulation [A-rank] Jordan met Orion's gaze, recognizing him, and offered a small, tired smile, tapping his gauntlet against his breastplate in a quiet salute. Apparently, he'd already known he would be joining them. Across from him stood another familiar face, Esmeralda Ottingen.

The Vampire Baroness had shed the frail, innocent glamour she usually wore. She stood tall now, her skin alabaster-perfect, her crimson eyes glowing with unrestrained power. Esmeralda Ottingen — Daughter of the Whispering Dark Class: [Vampire Baroness] [B-rank] Level: 128 Mind: 562 Body: 359 Attunement: 717 Traits: [Blood Dominion] [B-rank]; [Night's Veil] [B-rank]; Mana Manipulation [B-rank]; [Kiss of Death] [B-rank]"Orion," Esmeralda purred, her lips curling into a warm, fanged smile.

"I knew we were fated to meet again. I am glad to see you have survived the Heartwood so far, and perhaps even thrived."

"As am I," Orion replied, stepping further into the tent. He was genuinely surprised to have two friends with him on this next adventure, and he had to wonder whether his father or the High Priestess had meddled with the teams to ensure it. Still, both Esmeralda and Jordan were quite powerful and very talented, having risen so far so quickly. He perhaps could have expected to see the former here, but the latter had blindsided him.

Sure, a year had passed since he'd first met Jordan, but his growth in Valderun had been slightly slower than Orion's. It seemed that much had happened since they'd parted ways. I'll have to find a moment to ask what happened. I don't believe it was just hard training; otherwise, the Radiant Vigil would be the foremost power in Cyril. In fact, his stats were nearly on par with Esmeralda, who had been tier three for much longer and was higher level. I guess that's when the difference between ranks really shows.

Jordan is an Extra Ranker like me, after all. In all his travels around Cyril, he'd only met a handful of people with a similar blessing. They could be counted on one hand. Two, if he included those he suspected, like his own father and the High Priestess. A low scoff cut through the pleasantries. Leaning against the central tent pole was the third and last familiar face, though this one wasn't friendly: Erethemor Und'erter. The Dragonkin's crimson scales gleamed in the lamplight, and his spiked tail swayed lazily.

Orion remembered him brutalizing Jonatan in the Valderun arenas, stopping short of killing his friend only because Archmage Valentia intervened. He wondered at the wisdom of sending someone so volatile on such a delicate mission. Erethemor Und'erter — The Lurking Fire Class: [Draconic Blood-Rager] [A-rank] Level: 135 Mind: 516 Body: 821 Attunement: 978 Traits: [Magic Resistance] [A-rank]; [Wyrm's Wrath] [A-rank]; [Scales of the Progenitor] [A-rank]; Mana Manipulation [A-rank] Correction. There is another like us.

That so many extra rankers could be put on the same team by sheer chance was beyond the realm of possibility. No, if he'd been suspicious before, he now knew there had been meddling in the formation of this team, though he couldn't quite divine the reason. A single extra ranker was very, very valuable, as far as he'd been able to learn. They were often prized by factions and kept out of harm's way until they'd grown enough to face their enemies without fear.

Concentrating them before theyhad reached their potential seemed like a recipe for disaster. Should anything wipe them out, the factions would lose far more than their tactical value. Well, I doubt we'll be told outright, but I should be able to learn more once I get to know them better. Next to the Dragonkin stood a man wrapped in bark-like armor. His eyes were entirely green, with no pupils, and he kept rubbing his thumbs together in a nervous, twitchy rhythm.

Daus — Wandering Root Class: [Ironwood Sentinel] [B-rank] Level: 120 Mind: 400 Attunement: 739 Body: 89 (589) Traits: [Root-Walker] [B-rank]; Innate Harmony [B-rank]; Mana Manipulation [B-rank], [Nature's Call] [B-rank] Beside Daus stood a tall, impeccably dressed mage in the deep-blue robes of the Arcane Collegium. He offered Orion a polite, welcoming nod.

Verner Inutz — Devout Apprentice Class: [Arcane Scholar] [B-rank] Level: 122 Mind: 491 Attunement: 773 Body: 70 Traits: [Mana Manipulation] [B-rank]; [Mana Weaving] [B-rank]; [Enchantment Mastery] [B-rank]; [Researcher's Gain] [B-rank]"A pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. Voidwalker," Verner said smoothly.

"I have read your theories on the barrage doctrine. Your work is a fascinating departure from the Collegium's standard papers, but it remains extremely rigorous."

"Thank you," Orion said, carefully noting the strange 'Devout Apprentice' description. It spoke of fanatical loyalty, though the overlay did not specify to whom. His mentor, clearly. I'll have to learn who that is. The last man in the room stood at the head of the map table. He was in his late forties, his face a map of pale scars, holding an unadorned greatsword that rested point-down on the floorboards. He wore practical leather armor reinforced with beast bone.

Garrick — Son of the Vengeful Red Class: [Big Game Hunter] [A-rank] Level: 148 Mind: 770 Attunement: 873 Body: 1041 Traits: [Veteran's Grit] [A-rank]; [Indomitable Will] [A-rank]; Internal Mana Manipulation [A-rank]; [Unstoppable Force] [B-rank]; [Magic Resistance] [B-rank] Another one! There are only two normal people here if you don't count Esmeralda, and one of them is more plant than human, and the other is apparently some sort of fanatic!

It was interesting to note that Garrick, who was the strongest of the lot and the oldest by quite a few years, at least visibly, had two traits at the B-rank despite being an extra ranker. Why that was, he couldn't tell. He doubted an adventurer of that level lacked the achievements needed to get a good class. Garrick looked Orion up and down, his gaze lingering on his youthful features.

"Were we truly stalling the deployment for a Tier Two student?" Erethemor rumbled, his slit pupils narrowing.

"I care little for his bloodline. If the boy cannot hold his own, the Iron State will kill him, and I will not waste my fire protecting him." Verner seemed disturbed by those words, though his tone remained perfectly level.

"Mr. Voidwalker is the only individual capable of tracking the alchemical footprint of this Uther's laboratories. Raw power is irrelevant if we cannot locate the target, Lord Erethemor. His intellect earns him his place among us."

"I have tracked beasts across the shifting sands of the Dragon Wastes," Erethemor growled.

"I need no scholar to track for me, especially one who looks like a little girl."

"You will follow the scholar's heading, or you will return to the Dominion," Garrick interrupted, his voice rough as gravel. The Adventurer's tone brooked no argument, silencing the room. He even shot a warning look at Esmeralda, who had drawn up to retort to the dragonkin's words. Garrick turned to face Orion with an annoyed expression.

"The High Council calls us Strike Team Obsidian, and our mandate is simple. We shall infiltrate the Iron State's northern supply lines, locate the hidden laboratories producing this 'Silence', and eradicate them. Through our actions, the armies that the factions are assembling will be able to sweep them aside."

It was, in truth, quite a bit more complicated than that, but Orion could appreciate someone with the gift of brevity, and Garrick didn't seem like the type to appreciate anyone else talking just to hear their own voice. Well, if anything, this should be interesting.