It took him time, at least twenty minutes, and he had to reference his bloodline multiple times to ensure he didn't fuck this up and summon something he couldn't control. It was tedious and nerve-racking at the same time. He was also reminded why most people used spells over glyphs. Glyphs were sooo slow. When he finally, finally, finished the stupid circle, he activated the simple summoning.
<[Light Magic] has Reached Level 7>
<[Lumenmancy] has Reached Level 2>
<[Lumenmancy] has Reached Level 3>
<[The Pen is Mightier than the Sword] has Reached Level 5>
<[Words of Power] has Reached Level 5>
<[Words of Power] has Reached Level 6>
<[Wordsmith] has Reached Level 5>
<[Wordsmith] has Reached Level 6>
<[Knowledge] has Reached Level 6>
<[Gift of Tongues] has Reached Level 5>
<[My Mind is a Temple] has Reached Level 5>
<[Best of Both Worlds] has Reached Level 5>
"I'm not sure if I like how much this tutorial is making me work," Tom muttered as a brown bull stepped out of his ritual circle. He identified it out of reflex more than anything else.
<[Identify] has Reached Level 9>
It was shit. He didn't have any skills to boost his proficiency in summoning the bull, so he was getting the bare minimum, which showed. Not that it mattered. This was more of a sacrifice than an actual guardian.
"Alright then," Tom began, "charge through that door."
The bull immediately launched itself towards the door, smashing through the double wooden doors and flying into the room. Tom launched himself to the side as the traps activated.
The SNAPS, CLICKS, THWANGS, THUDS, CLATTERS, SMASHS, CRASHES, and tortured Bovine SCREAMS.
It all came as a sudden explosion of noise. Thankfully, the cow noises only lasted a few seconds. The crossbows continued SNAPPING and POPPING like the three-minute mark on a bag of microwave popcorn, and then nothing.
Tom causally peaked into the hallway.
"Holy shit," Tom muttered. "Peta is going to hate me."
From floor to ceiling, crossbows lined the walls. Half of them were destroyed beyond repair, having been stuck too many times by their fellows. There, spent bolts lay all over the floor. A conspicuously dense concentration of them marked the middle of the room, probably where his bull had died.
Tom pulled open his class options and picked the [Biomancer] class.
DING!!!
DING!!!
DING!!!
DING!!!
DING!!!
DING!!!
Tom immediately cast all four of his new life magic spells in quick succession, restoring and repairing his shoulder.
"Oh yes," Tom moaned in pleasure as he swung his arm in great loops, enjoying his range of movement. The notifications were nice, too. Walking forward, Tom collected hundreds of bolts and any of the dozens of crossbows that looked intact, dumping them all into his inventory—more seed money.
<[Storage] has Reached level 11>
<[Storage] has Reached level 12>
<[Biomancy] has Reached level 2>
It was kind of interesting to see his second skill break into the ten range. The first ten levels were easy—you could knock them out in a day. After that, the requirements got steeper. He had to have dumped a ton of materials into his [Storage], and he had only grabbed two levels for it. If it had still been level 1, he would have gotten to at least level 10, possibly 11.
Tom was beginning to wonder if this tutorial was specially made harder for veterans of the Legend of Noralon like him—something to consider.
Tom carefully opened the doors at the end of the hall, jumping back in case of traps. But there was nothing, only a sloping path downwards. Slowly following it down, Tom descended further into the dungeon.
The entire place seemed like a crypt, with fake corpses and coffins lining the walls. Tom checked to see if any of the corpses had any loot. Unfortunately, he didn't find anything.
The next chamber revealed a spacious dining area frozen in time. The table stood as the centerpiece, surrounded by a macabre gathering of skeletons and lifeless bodies, their hollow eye sockets staring emptily ahead. It appeared as though they had assembled for a feast that was never to be enjoyed. The table itself was strewn with a lavish spread of food: loaves of Bread, Mushrooms, delicate cheeses, potatoes, onions, tomatoes, dried meats, nuts, carrots, and unopened bottles of wine decorated the table.
The fireplace in the corner popped merrily as if the homeowners weren't dead and would be back any second. A simple staircase ascended to a second floor on the other side of the room, offering a vantage point that overlooked the wide room.
Suspended above the table, a chandelier with flickering candles cast eerie shadows on the remnants of a ghostly gathering. It was a haunting sight, frozen in time, where echoes of laughter and celebration lingered, now swallowed by the passage of years.
"10$ says all of the corpses are undead," Tom muttered as he used [Identify] on them.
DING!!!
DING!!!
DING!!!
<[Identify] has Reached Level 9>
<[Identify] has Reached Level 10>
"I fucking called it." Tom cheered.
His joy was shattered the next moment as the heads of the undead rose up to meet his eyes, and the pathway he had used to enter the chamber snapped shut behind him, locking him in with the undead.
"Crabbaskets," Tom swore.
You may skip to the next Chapter.
Base
Personal: +4 PER +4 WILL +3 INT +3 CHA
Racial: +3 WILL +2 CON +2 CHA +1 SPIRIT
Bloodline: +5 INT
Mini-Character List
Tom: Our Protagonist.
AN: