Touch Of Fate 38 Seeds

When asked about the boss fight, the newbies maintained, as a united front, that Mike had delivered the final blow on the Lava Salamander. However, they were vague on specifics, only agreeing that the young man had used powerful water magic to do so.

After an hour or so of light interrogation, Philomena brought them back to the guild's front lobby.

"Ordinarily this would be done with some ceremony, but considering the circ.u.mstances, I think we will have to dispense with them. As of now, you are all recognized as official adventurers of the Wyrport Adventurer's Guild. From this point forward you can freely access the Wyrport Dungeon. May I be the first to congratulate you on this achievement."

She smiled in a tired manner while giving her speech. Mike could still see some of the previous pain evident in her features.

Under Philomena's direction the group moved to the turn-in window and sold their collected mana cores. Even though Mike had ceded the two most valuable ones, the others he had picked up still netted him 18 gold and 3 silver.

By this point, it was already late afternoon. The group had spent almost the entire day in the dungeon, and Mike was tired and hungry, so after saying his goodbyes to his fellow graduates, he decided to head back to the inn. He briefly stopped by the guild weapon shop to pick up two common steel longswords for 5 silver apiece. He was little sad to see some of the money he had earned leave him again.

[I really need to stop breaking my weapons, or find one that is a little more durable. Replacing these things every time I go on a mission or delve is going to become expensive. Perhaps I need to focus more on my magic, at least that is free.]

He looked at his status again, and still couldn't believe how fast his skills were progressing. He recalled Morris mentioning that improving skills depended on a number of factors, but it was well recognized that life and death combat was the most effective method of growing stronger.

While training and practice help, and are often the best way to work on new skills, fighting in battle was dramatically more effective. This seemed to be especially true in the case of hunting monsters.

There were a number of theories about why this was the case, but most experts believe that when a person kills a monster, some of that monster's essence is absorbed. Somehow, the System seemed able to convert this into skill improvement. It was the reason that so many of the highest Tier people in the world tended to be combat oriented cla.s.ses.

It made him feel like that month spent training with Albert would have been better spent hunting in the forest.

[Oh well, at least I'm fully established in the guild, so finding opportunities to hone my skills against monsters should be relatively easy.]

Mike entered the inn and, seeing Morris sitting by himself, collapsed into a seat next to him, resting his head on the table.

"Ugh, I'm exhausted and starving. Morris old buddy, could you get some food and drink?"

Morris looked up from a stack of papers he was reading through with a wry smile. "Hard day?"

"Like you wouldn't believe. The whole cla.s.s got caught in a teleportation trap and we had to fight our way out of a lower dungeon floor." Mike's face clouded over. "One of the other students died as a result."

Morris motioned a waitress over. "Get my friend here some ale, and whatever your serving for dinner." He pa.s.sed a handful of copper over as payment.

He looked back at Mike. "Dungeon's are dangerous places. Its not uncommon for veteran adventurers to lose their lives, let alone newbies. You shouldn't blame yourself. You're powerful, but not all problems can be solved with strength alone, and you can't be everywhere at once."

Mike started. Was he blaming himself? He didn't think so, but he felt some guilt all the same. Devin's death had cast a cloud over his whole experience in he dungeon, and continued to effect him even now. He wasn't really sure why. He had witnessed the death of allies before, while fighting the Annihilates and in the caravan ambush. However, neither case had quite had the same effect.

Almost as if reading his friend's mind, Morris quietly rea.s.sured him. "I know you feel some pressure now that you've gained this power. You can accomplish so much now, that when you experience some kind of setback, it effects you more deeply. You have to remember, Mike, that you aren't a G.o.d, you aren't all powerful. Do what you can with what's in front of you and trust in Fate to deal with the rest."

Mike chuckled slightly at Morris's mention of the force that got him killed in the first place, but his friend definitely had a point. He straightened in his seat.

"Alright, I'll try not to let it bother me." He grabbed the flagon of ale the waitress had brought. "But in the meantime let's get drunk!"

Morris laughed at that, before grabbing his own flagon.

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Brenden watched Mike leave the Adventurer's Guild, and a cracked a feral grin.

He had spent so much time wandering aimlessly, simply letting life direct his path. But that had all changed in the dungeon. Changed after watching a fellow newbie adventurer wield power that Brenden could barely comprehend. A newbie adventurer that could still make a genuine smile.

For the first time since he'd killed his father, Brenden felt a strong pa.s.sion, a desire that was lighting a fire in his heart.

He read over the description of his new t.i.tle again, thoughts still on the young man who made it possible.

- Destined Rival -

You have found your destined rival, the individual whose very existence spurs you to grow stronger, and Hitorius, G.o.d of Compet.i.tion and Personal Growth has blessed you for it. Whether they are aware of it or not, you are destined to come into conflict with this person in your mutual quest for power. Moderate increase to the improvement of skills so long as your rival is perceived to be stronger than you. Minor increase to all attributes when in combat with your destined rival.

[Just you wait Mike, I'm going to become stronger, and then I'm going to claim that smile of yours.]

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Talin stepped into the Guildmaster's office, and addressed the back of the chair in which the Guildmaster sat.

"Ma'am, the adventuring group containing the young man I mentioned previously has returned. They suffered a mishap. I've brought the report compiled by Philomena."

After a few moments of silence, Talin asked. "Ma'am?" He listened closely and heard the sounds of rythmic breathing.

Sighing, he took the report he had in hand and dropped it, loudly, on the desk.

"Hrgk, wha...what?" A rough female voice sounded from behind the chair, before it spun to face him.

"Ah, Talin, I was just in the middle of some deep meditation and I didn't hear you come in." The speaker was a powerfully built woman with dusky skin, that looked to be in her late thirties. She was running a hand through her shoulder length, wavy red hair before adjusting the disorder state of her simple tunic and pants.

She glanced up at Talin with her one good crimson-irised eye, the other was covered by a simple patch. A pale scar could be seen running across the bridge of her nose and behind the patch to end just above her right eyebrow. With her curvaceous figure, she could easily be called a beauty. At least those who didn't know about her shameless personality might think so.

Talin sighed again. "Ma'am, you still have a bit of drool on your chin."

The Guildmaster wiped her mouth with the back of her hand before rising to her feet. "Haha, anyway, what brings you in today?"

Ignoring the way she blatantly changed the subject, Talin continued. "I've brought you the report on the newbie cla.s.s containing the young man I mentioned previously. I thought you might be interested to know they ran into some difficulties."

"Bah, Talin you know I don't have time to deal with these minor problems. This is precisely the reason I employ so many subordinates. Now if you excuse me, I'm late for an important meeting down at the pastry shop."

[You only brought on so many staff members, so you wouldn't have to work. If it wasn't for your strength I'm sure the Head Guildmaster in Bergell would have kicked you out long ago.]

"Before you go for another 'taste testing' session, you may want to look this over. The boss room of the first floor had a teleportation trap, and the fourth floor boss they ended up defeating was a Lava Salamander."

"Oh?" The Guildmaster asked with sudden interest. She quickly scanned the contents of the report. before breaking out into a wide grin.

"Interesting. You said this Michael is the one with the composite soul?"

Talin nodded, feeling a deep chill that had little to do with the weather.

Andromeda, also known as the Crimson Disaster, Guildmaster of the Wyrport Adventurer's Guild and one of the handful of Tier 4s on the continent laughed.

"I'm going to have to make time to meet. Miren, get me my schedule!"

"The one for guild inspections or the real one?" A female voice called from the other room.

"My real one. I'm going to have to clear some time on it."

"Well, if your are willing to reschedule or cancel your daily three hour naps, we should have plenty of-"

"Lets not get hasty. I just need to see my d*** schedule!" Andromeda yelled while storming out of the room.

Talin apologized in his heart to her unfortunate target. [She wouldn't do anything too bad to a young adventurer, right?]