Chapter 38: Seeds (1/2)

As soon as the group had exited the dungeon, they were escorted by guild personnel back to the guild house. Apparently, when a newbie class enters the dungeon, they have a specific time frame in which they are expected to return. Since this group not only took longer, but came back with one less person, they were hustled into a back room at the guild for a thorough examination and debriefing.

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 circumstances, 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 classes.

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 class 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 passed 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 reassured 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 god, 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 passion, a desire that was lighting a fire in his heart.