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18.18% Primordial Crown / Chapter 2: Unexpected Help

Chapter 2: Unexpected Help

"I don't know how you found out my past, and especially about the Gods. But just knowing it doesn't mean your special." The Klaus said. With the power of a Spell, the house was lit and not a single speck of dust laid inside. Several riches older than the kingdoms themselves glistened at Crid's eyes.

Paintings made from jewels, books that would make any archmage start a war, wines perserved for who knows how long, and Crid knew that those were only the tip of an iceberg. Klaus surely lived up to his title as the thief worsphipped by the few who knew his existence.

Even the walls themselves were treasures, made from wood harvested from another world. Having a royal purple color while being strong enough to resist and became a conductor of Mana, cutting down a single tree would make one rich. Much less having a house made from it.

Seeing these riches while knowing it's reality, he was filled with awe. Lost as he stared at his reflection from the golden treasures that lavished the house.

"I'll have to assign a mission for you, survive then you pass. Fail, then even if you're the kid picked by the heavens, you won't learn a single thing from me." Klaus said, as he took out an empty vial.

Realizing that he must have looked like a fool, Crid blushed. No wonder countless people grow greedy, he thought.

"That would be stealing a Spell Scroll from the ruins of the academy. Where in the academy? It's up to you to decide." He continued, throwing a map at Crid.

It was map of the Broken Isle before it was given that name. With the map detailing a empire now reduced into ruins. Being made while that forgotten empire still stood, it was centuries old. But despite that time, the map still maintained it's pristine condition.

"Sure." Crid shrugged, as the glistens of his spinning dagger amused him. Seeing his dismissive attitude, Klaus felt like his intelligence started degrading to match his toddler size.

He had met several idiots in his lifetime, but the way this child infront of him was clueless to dangers of this world. He felt wronged.

"Are you an idiot?! I can sense that you barely practiced any Class. Do you know the dangers lurking inside the ruins?" Klaus' little head looked like a smoking red kettle, while erected a curved dagger at the table. "Are you gonna use a kitchen knife to explore the ruins? Use this dagger, the rest is up to your own abilities."

Crossing his arms, he sweared that this was the only help he'll give this clueless moron.

Crid paused for a moment. Unable to believe that this monster of an NCP that once sent him to the hardest Quests he ever had, was actually helping him. He could still remember that when he accepted the quest, he was litterally kicked out of the house.

"Of course. Thank you." Those were words he never expected he'll say to Klaus. It was true that unlike the first time he took that mission, his charcter and equipment were powerful. But now, he needed anything he can get his hands on.

Seeing the impatient look at Klaus, he immediately left. Not wanting to test just how short tempered this thief was.

Looking at the map, the size of the empire nearly consumed the whole island. Unlike the other magic schools, Crid's destination wasn't inside the empire. Instead it was a little speck at the edge of the island, small and forgettable.

Thinking about retaking this quest, he couldn't help but to shiver. No matter how much he reassured himself that he now knew the ins and outs of that Academy, he only had one life now. There was no longer the respawn circles provided by the game.

Died? Then your dead. That was it. A dead corpse can't regret anything.

Crid gulped, forcing a step forward as he tried to calm himself. "It's not like I have a choice." He said to himself. Though he wished that he could atleast sleep for even a single night on a comfortable bed, he had already wasted enough time.

As Crid looked at distance, he could already foresee that the breeze would be joining him with the tantrums for sheer boredom.

While travelling, Crid took several breaks under the shade of a tree. He lacked the stamina his character once had, he could barely last under the hot scorching hot sun. Telling himself it will all be over once he steals that scroll. He was afterall still used to the luxuries of his previous world, where travelling was barely an issue.

Nervousness occasionally struck him. Inspiring him to practice with his dagger. Thinking hard to piece together the self defense tips he was taught.

Back then, the intoxicating feeling he got when he fatasized about defeating someone in a fight satisfied him. Only now did he truly realized it's importance.

With his dedication in his training and analyzing the outdated map, days passed by in a flash. Though no matter how hard he tried, he could never do a proper slash. Even when he used all of his might, the dagger always gets stuck on the tree trunk. Leaving an unclean and rough mark on it.

Until finally, under the afternoon sun, Crid stood infront of the Academy ruins. But instead of the tall towers froming the school, all there was were house-sized rubbles.

It was never the conventional academy. Being where the empire experimented on their magic, the academy was underground. Free to test the chaotic nature of the elements without worrying about the destruction it brings.

The familiar emptiness that haunts the academy, caused Crid to be rooted where he stood. His heart was almost like a roaring beast wanting to break free from his chest. He knew the passages that will lead him to the scroll, but still...

Crid held the dagger Klaus gave tightly, the weight of it's leather handle giving him comfort. "Better get this over with." He said as he went inside.

Navigating his way through the seared-black hallways to find the path to the bottom floors. He held his dagger infront of him, paranoid to the dangers waiting to pounce on him.

The stairs led to a path below. But before he could even take a single step, a loud, muddled scream echoed. It sounded like it had no meaning. Not to provoke, not to communicate, just a scream.

"Couldn't they atleast waited until I got down."


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