Sworded Affair

Chapter 44 : Midway

Would it have killed the builder to install an elevator? Emma wondered as she climbed the latest staircase, fully expecting many more before she cleared Scholomance fully.

[Nobody ever saw the need for them. Most beings a Magus or above can fly if they put in a bit of effort. As for everyone else? Well, just another bit of motivation to become a Magus, right?]

"In other words, get stuffed, plebs?"

[Pretty much. The Empire is very much a meritocracy by nature. On the one hand, this is a good thing because it means anyone can theoretically reach the top if they have the aptitude. On the other hand, the viewpoint of equating talent to worth does not, as a rule, engender much sympathy for the weak.]

"I can climb stairs just fine," Emma scoffed. "Doesn't mean I enjoy it. Conveniences are called such for a reason."

The small talk tapered off as she reached the top, breaching the next floor to find herself in a tastefully furnished, well-lit hotel room. A queen-size bed served as the centerpiece of the room, a solid wooden desk and an armchair a light touch revealed to be real leather, or the most convincing imitation Emma ever felt. The minibar was fully stocked with a variety of drinks, leaning strongly towards a preference for the alcoholic, and the bathroom was an actual bathroom rather than a portal to the Dungeon Core.

Were it not for the lack of a front door, any windows or a television, Emma would have rated it a good 4-star hotel room; as it stood, her first priority was finding a way out. A quick rummage through the desk drawers provided Emma her answer; instead of the customary King James Bible, the top-left drawer contained a small pamphlet titled The Guide to Midway. Flicking past the introduction, Emma found that it was (thankfully) not a primer to the famous WWII naval battle, but rather instructions for the fifth floor of the Dungeon.

"Welcome to Midway, far more comfortable than the other one." Emma read aloud.

"You are now halfway through the practitioner's trial, the first of two sets of four behind you and the second yet to come. This fifth floor is a sanctuary: to make it clear, there are no trials or tricks here, as this floor is purely a place for rest and reflection. You are required to spend the next twenty-four hours here, doing so in any manner you deem fit short of leaving the premises. At the end of this mandatory break period, two doors will appear, marked LEAVE and CONTINUE respectively. Their effects are exactly as described on the label; the former will deposit you outside the front door of Scholomance, ending your participation in the trial, whilst the latter will take you to the sixth floor.

Keep in mind that the second half of the trial ramps up the difficulty compared to the first, so if you've struggled your way up to this point, barely making it here at all, I advise that you take this opportunity to depart. There is no shame in leaving to train and better prepare, and you will be permitted to take the trial again in the next academic year. If you remain certain in your current course, then continue, knowing that such an opportunity to bow out will not arise again until the tenth floor.

In the meantime, please make full use of the amenities provided. Foodstuffs will replenish themselves in the minibar, all ready-made for consumption and tailored towards the needs of the individual aspirant in accordance with their physical, mental and spiritual needs. Eat, drink and rest, and let none claim that Scholomance has failed in upholding our duty of care."

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The leaflet combusted as Emma read the final word, burning to ash without so much as warming her fingers. Glancing around her home for the next full day, Emma shrugged and headed to the kitchen, eager to test out the supposedly endless minibar.

"I was never a big drinker before," She mused. "Might as well start now, and put that poison immunity to good use."

---

"If I live past all this madness, I'm building myself a home in Antarctica," Noah gasped, not quite dry heaving but not far off either as he huddled beneath the barricade.

"Why?" Ryan asked, handing him a canteen filled with water that he gratefully gulped down in seconds.

"No trees there," Noah sighed once he'd finished his drink, the welcome liquid soothing some of the fire that continued to burn within.

Noah knew that he should stop; he was a novice completely new to the game, and he'd already contributed more than most in the current situation. He was fully justified to crawl back into bed and leave the cleanup to others, but unfortunately for everyone involved, Noah Knight simply hadn't been raised to do that.

"Think I'm ready for the next one."

Grabbing the railing, Noah hoisted himself up, peering through packed dirt, sandbags and barbed wire into the battlefield beyond. Sixty men and women stood alongside him to man the walls, over half the current encampment and practically everyone who knew how to shoot straight. Their effectiveness was evident in the large number of dead stumps littering the ground of no man's land, well over three hundred at even a casual glance across the kill zone. Noah shook his head, turning away from the morbid sight; the small ones weren't his targets after all.

"Behemoth sighted!"

Turning west at the shout, Noah saw yet another monster emerge from the black of night; massive skeletal mammoth that wouldn't have looked amiss in the Natural History Museum, were it not for the baleful glow in its otherwise empty eye sockets.

[Tuskan Raider - Level 20]

Were the circumstances any less dire, Noah would have laughed at his System being a Star Wars fan. As it stood though, the massive constructs had shrugged off any and all small arms fire, and the one tank they'd managed to cobble together had run out of shells half an hour ago.

"Mana's back to ten percent," Noah heaved a sigh. "Time to make some magic."

The only saving grace of the whole situation was that Noah hadn't made any choices until tonight; he'd been too preoccupied fighting for his life and subsequently recovering from the injuries incurred. As such, he was able to tap his extensive RPG experience to cobble together a build that - although exceedingly risky - made him actually able to harm these behemoths.

Raising a hand, a single wisp of flame ignited, burning pure black as it floated into the sky. Shaping it into an arrowhead, Noah willed the spark to sail forth, crossing the dead zone in an instant to strike his target in the head. The mammoth continued its march, utterly unfazed by the minuscule amount of heat it represented.

"...Six, seven, eight , nine, ten." Noah counted steadily, and on the tenth second the Tuskan Raider collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut.

[500 EXP gained.]

Smiling wanly through the sudden exhaustion of his mana draining completely, Noah took a look at his status page.

[Noah Knight - Level 10 Invoker

Race: Human

HP: 100 {LOCKED}

Mana: 0/10,000

EXP: 2620/3000

Spells

Balefire (Cost: 10% Current Mana, Minimum 1000): Flames that burn the soul to nothing in 10 seconds flat.

Traits

Pact of Annihilation: Your HP may never exceed the starting value at Level 1 for your race (100) under any circumstances. Gain a single restricted spell from the Path of Destruction (Balefire).

9x Mana Maketh Man: +9000 Mana]