Nathan – POV
We were on our second day at the encampment outside the city of Kharb. The merchants bustled within the walls, trading coins and goods, while we lingered beyond them; our camp was an island of steel and silence. Jack and I sparred with swords, the ring of steel echoing against the distant hum of the city, while Serena and Christine sat cross-legged in meditation. Serena and I had agreed to avoid any overt use of magic; too many eyes lingered on us, especially those of other adventurers who prowled on the outskirts.
Meanwhile, I kept in touch with my minions, who had ventured into one of the nearby dungeons. Their reports were steady: they had crossed paths with other groups, particularly the sanctimonious holy types, but had thankfully been left unchallenged. When they told me they were close to clearing the dungeon entirely, I was taken aback. Clearing a dungeon without a healer? That was no small feat.
Curiously, I asked how they managed their wounds. Their answer intrigued me; they healed their injuries by activating their shadow meld, siphoning vitality back into themselves from the void itself. Apparently, the skill Shadow meld had some hp regen recovery which I didn’t notice. Interesting. It reminded me of the voidwalker’s ability to mend damage through its own darkness. Somehow, they all have it. Clever and efficient. Even so, they assured me they could handle themselves. Reluctantly, I let them continue, hoping their progress would help me break through the threshold of level fifty. Perhaps my Shadow Meld abilities work the same way. I will have to investigate that in the future.
Later that afternoon, Jack and I sat aside my blades. Christine needed guidance in forming her mana core. She was visibly nervous, but Serena, Jack, and Shive stood nearby, offering quiet encouragement.
I instructed her to draw in the ambient mana, to let it settle and compress just beneath her heart. Her breathing slowed, her focus sharpened. I could feel the shift in the air as threads of mana coiled around her, condensing into something tangible. Minutes passed, and then, her core solidified.
Her eyes snapped open, shining with triumph. “I did it!” she exclaimed, smiling wide.
“Now, access your status again,” I told her.
She hesitated, then gasped with delight. “I have MP now… thirty out of thirty!”
Serena leaned forward, impressed. “That’s more than I had when I formed my core.”
Jack smirked. “That’s because you’re a knucklehead.”
“Shut up!” Serena shot back, and their familiar bickering flared once more, a rhythm as old as our bond.
Amid the laughter, I felt a small hand slip into mine. Christine looked up at me, her cheeks flushed. “Thank you, Nathan,” she whispered.
I smiled softly. “You’re welcome.”
And then it came...the unmistakable chime.
Ding!
Congratulations!
You have reached Level 50!
You have reached Level 50 at a young age!
You are further rewarded with +50 Intelligence.
I immediately called up my Status.
Status:
Name: Nathan
Class: Shadow Mage, Warlock Demonologist, Affliction, Destruction
Title: Otherworldly Knowledge
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Name: Nathan
Class: Shadow Mage, Warlock Demonologist, Affliction, Destruction
Title: Otherworldly Knowledge
Level: 50
HP: 500
MP: 6550
Strength: 50 + 1 = 51
Stamina: 50 + 1 = 51
Agility: 50 + 1 = 51
Dexterity: 50 + 1 = 51
Intelligence: 600 + 5 + 50 = 655
Constitution: 50 + 1 = 51
Affinity: Shadow SSS+, Fel Energy SSS+
Active Skills: Shadow Bolt 7, Immolate 6, Summon Imp, Shadow Tendrils 10, Corruption 5, Curse of Weakness 5, Life Tap 5, Curse of Agony 5, Fear 2, Summon Voidwalker, Drain Soul 3, Create Healthstone , Health Funnel 6, Drain Life 5, Curse of Recklessness 3, Unending Breath, Searing Pain 5, Create Soulstone (Greater) , Ritual of Summoning, Summon Succubus, Summon Incubus, Rain of Fire 3, Demon Armored Skin 4, Eye of Kilrogg, Shadowmeld 1, Drain Mana 3, Sense Demons, Banish 2, Summon Fellhunter, Subjugate Demon 2, Hellfire 2, Curse of the Elements 2, Shadow Ward 3, Detect Invisibility , Summon Felsteed, Howl of Terror 1, Death Coil 2, Curse of Shadow 1, Soul Fire 1, Detect Greater Invisibility, Summon Inferno
Passive Skills: Mana Sense 2
One-handed Sword Mastery 1
Two-handed Sword Mastery 3
Spear Mastery 2
Dagger 2
Mounted Combat 1
There it was...the skill I had been waiting for: Summon Infernal. Alongside it, several of my other abilities have improved. I now possess Detect Greater Invisibility, but none of that compares to Summon Inferno. A towering golem wreathed in fel fire, a heavy hitter unlike any I had commanded before. My minions had achieved it, and I couldn’t help but smile.
Christine noticed immediately.
“You’re happy. Did something happen...aside from me creating my mana core?” she asked curiously.
“Yes,” I replied, keeping my voice measured. “I’ll show you later.”
“Is it good?” she pressed.
“It’s more than good. With this, we’ll be safe even when the Hellblazers aren’t around.”
She nodded, her smile soft but knowing.
This was a true game-changer. I now commanded four demons, each amplifying my strength. I could already envision it: Inferno charging headlong into battle beside Leshner, while Xander and Shive shielded me, and Krizek hurling fel fireballs or tearing through enemies in melee. A loyal cadre of warriors, bound to me alone.
Yet despite this triumph, dissatisfaction gnawed at me, not with my spells or skills, but with my body. I was still a boy. My adult mind strained against the limitations of youth. There was so much I wanted to accomplish, yet who would take a child seriously? Months, perhaps a year, separated me from the Shaxaian lands. Time enough to master my magic, but not enough to shed the image of boyhood.
I could only wait for my body to grow. Still, I had convinced my parents of our destiny: we would rise as nobles. My father explained that we could purchase a noble charter from a local lord, king, or regent. Our wealth, hidden in the pocket dimension, was more than sufficient for a barony. But he overlooked one crucial fact: without an army, no one would respect us. Nobility without force was an invitation to be robbed or crushed. We needed a fighting force loyal to our family.
That afternoon, I gathered with my parents and presented the idea.
Jakob nodded gravely. “That was one of my main concerns. The Shaxaian lords will never take us seriously unless we have an army behind us.”
Dianne countered, “It doesn’t need to be an army, Jakob. A household guard will suffice.”
“How many people are in a household guard?” I asked.
“It depends… ten, twenty, perhaps a hundred,” Dianne replied.
Jakob leaned forward. “That’s doable. We already have three of your minions. And by my estimates, we still have months, maybe a year, before we arrive. Plenty of time to recruit along the way.”
Dianne added, “We should also have a banner, with our household crest. It will lend credibility.”
Jack, who had joined us, frowned. “Banners? Mother, won’t that make us look like pretenders in the eyes of nobles? That could get us executed.”
Dianne hesitated. “It would raise suspicion, yes. But with proof of letters of patent, we could silence any doubts.”
Jack blinked. “Letters?”
I knew exactly what she meant. Letters of patent, royal certificates of nobility, issued by monarchs or regencies. They established the family coat of arms and a noble family name. But how could my mother possess such a document?
“Mother… are you a noble?” I asked.
Her face tightened with anxiety. Jakob remained solemnly silent.
“Mother, I know what those letters mean. They are issued by a monarch, but to whom and when? If you won’t tell me, I’ll be forced to assume you stole it.”
“I did no such thing!” Dianne protested, her voice sharp.
Jakob admonished me. “Nathan, how could you accuse your own mother of theft?”
“Father, Mother, forgive me. I’m not accusing, only stating facts. Letters of patents are rare, especially for refugee peasants from a failed state. Either you found it… or someone stole it.”
Silence fell. Serena, Christine, and Shive, who had been listening, now stared intently at the adults.
Finally, Dianne sighed. “Alright, children. I’ll tell you. But you must be discreet with what I’m about to reveal.”
She rose, pacing slowly, the wind tugging at her cloak. After a long pause, she sat again, drew a deep breath, and spoke:
“I am a noble. So is your father.”
Gasps erupted from the others, but not from me. I suspected it. Their education was far too refined for peasants, their mastery of magic too advanced. Adventurers might possess skill, yes, but coupled with their knowledge and bearing? No, they were nobles. The real question was why they had abandoned their home… and chosen to live as peasants in exile.
