You have earned 468,000 XP by defeating multiple enemies with a significantly higher level than yourself.
Horace breathed heavily as only one thought played in his head.
"One more floor. Just gotta beat one more floor." He checked his status and grinned. Level 13 meant one main thing - class skill upgrade. These happened after one gained a class, every third level after gaining it - up to 30 where one would gain a class upgrade or more commonly referred to as advancement.
[Horace Smith, Level 13, Blade Dancer]
Experience: 212,000 / 811,200
Mana: 185/185
Strength: 22
Agility: 26 → 30
Endurance: 22 → 24
Intelligence: 37 → 40
Perception: 18
Unique Skill: Time Dragon's Blessing
Upon death, regress to the earliest possible time in the realm the blessed one occupied at the moment of death, retaining 50% of stats and non-unique skills while keeping other benefits such as proficiencies.
Proficiencies
Bastard Sword [Basic]
Mana Manipulation [Basic]
Mana Enchantment [Minor]
Mana Detonation [Minor]
Manakinesis [Minor]
Mana Corruption [Minor]
Skills
Arcane Enchantment [Passive]! - Any sword wielded by the user becomes automatically enchanted with Arcane Mana, leaving traces of it on enemies struck. Consumes Mana based on the amount of traces left behind.
Manakinesis [Passive]! - Allows the user to manipulate their mana even outside of their body.
Lingering Mana [Passive]! - User's residual Mana lingers in a state of inertia once it leaves their body.
Arcane Explosion [Active]! - Detonates Arcane Mana outside the user's body.
Blade Dance [Active]! - Consumes 50 Mana. For the next minute, residual Mana whirs around the user and strikes out.
En Pointe [Active]! - Consumes 30 Mana. Focuses Mana on the top of the sword before blasting it forward or to the side.
(!) Notice - Skill upgrade available for [6] Skills.
Horace swallowed. It surprised him that all of his skills were eligible for an upgrade. Upgrading a skill was a big deal - it made them at least 50% better. However he swallowed hard - there was a chance that his skill wouldn't be the one he carried over.
"Well. Arcane Explosion is the most useful. It meshes well with everything I have and if I get back to Arcane Swordsman I can level it up again with the duplicate skill. Hopefully I can also break through this goddamn tower on my next round." He muttered under his breath before standing and tapping Arcane Explosion.
[Arcane Explosion has been upgraded into Advanced Arcane Explosion: The user can now shape the explosion of particles affected by it.]
With a large grin on his face he realised that meant he could now detonate the arcane mana in Blade Dance without hurting himself. Or detonate the mana stepping stones he creates with Manakinesis. Even possibly create bolts of energy out of it, pierce an enemy and then detonate them with full explosive force.
"Okay. Time to face the floor where I am certain to die." Stepping into the circle he once again felt weightless. And then appeared in a room with only three enemies.
"FUCK!" He cursed as he saw their names.
[Abyssal Dark Elf Warrior, Level 50]
Dark Elf Warriors. They are a bitch of their own. And worse they are highly resistant to magic - not at the level of dragons, however enough that unless you literally stabbed them with the magic or triggered an explosion point blank they would just ignore it. Worse yet they were warrior caste, trained from childhood on how to disable and kill their enemies, and their armour is enchanted against slashing damage.
"Okay. Elves, main weapons bows and arrows, but they do have swords. And they can use Charm magic..." He muttered, repeating what he remembered from school.
Charm magic was the main issue. It was why even today, with a treaty between the two realms, there were soldiers stationed between them - to prevent Elves from kidnapping humans and making them slaves or pets.
"Okay. Blunt force will work best. They have high agility and Abyssal forms seem to be higher in their main stat, while being detrimental to the others. So this will be like fighting three souped up Abyssal Goblins with better training and intelligence." He breathed and noticed the protective circle flicker.
"Let's go." He growled, grabbing his sword in what he faintly remembered was Mordhau, hands gripping the blade with the pommel facing away from him. This allowed for two things - bypassing the armour and breaking their limbs. After all, no matter how fast you were, you can't do shit with your leg broken.
The first elf was ten feet away. The moment Horace left the circle, it zeroed in on him, drawing its bow. Horace got in close before it could shoot - its ingrained arrogance making it take its sweet ass time.
He swung, straight at its elbow, focusing his arcane mana into an approximation of wind elemental mana to make it faster. The elbow cracked, the arm bending in the wrong way as the arrow shot between his legs.
"It's trying to shoot my knees." He realised as he whirled around and went for a strike at its throat, which the elf dodged. It threw away its bow and pulled out a wicked-looking curved sword, the left arm hanging limp by its side, while speaking something in Elven, which Horace understandably didn't understand.
The elf rushed at him, parrying his sword before twisting it. Horace twisted back and slammed his pommel against its head. He felt the crack as his enhanced strength understandably took a few of its teeth.
They disengaged and Horace only now noticed the other two were chattering, grinning at him. He understood why - Elves tended to prefer to capture humans alive, to either enslave or brainwash them, so letting their companion fight him alone was kind of understandable from a fucked up perspective.
"Bastards." He growled and called upon Blade Dance as they both dashed at each other. Horace had the upper hand in strength and with his Blade Dance up the elf had to be careful not to extend its arms into the near-invisible storm of mana.
However it wasn't one-sided - they locked blades only for the elf to twist his arm and stab his shoulder. Horace growled as he tested his improved skill, which he had henceforth called Blade Claymore. "Yeah. That's gonna be useful later on."
In other words he detonated multiple shards of the Blade Dance, making the whirlwind weaker - however as close as they were it was undeniably powerful. The Arcane Mana exploded and heavily charred its skin - while it was resistant to magic, taking a point blank blast would hurt even a Dragon.
It staggered back, allowing Horace to slam at its head with an overhead strike. He forced more mana into the sword, making it imitate the heavy Earth Mana, and slammed his guard into its head. With a crunch it broke apart, making the elf stop moving, dead.
He ignored the chime as he felt what he feared the most - a fog-like feeling enveloping his brain. For a terrifying moment a thought of kneeling and begging for mercy entered his mind. However, before he was consumed by it fully, with a growl he focused, sliding his hand along the now pretty ruined sword blade, tearing the skin of his palm, snapping his mind free from the insidious magic.
He came back to his senses just in time to dodge the first arrow. The second landed in his abdomen. He quickly snapped the shaft off as he whirled and dashed at the two elves who had obviously decided he was too dangerous to fight one on one.
He used the mana scattered from his first fight to create stepping stones to allow him to dodge arrows with some success - by the time he got the two into a corner he had only taken two more hits, one in his shoulder and another in his chest, his increased endurance making it stop in his rib.
He whirled, swinging the guard at the closer one and predicting where it would dodge, even as they went for their swords. He slammed it into its shoulder and then forced his own mana into the wound, morphing it to take on fire-like properties before ripping the sword out and parrying the attack from the other elf.
The elf used its agility to twist the sword, slashing across his eye, while the other recovered and slashed his back. With a growl he reactivated Blade Dance and immediately screamed. "GO TO HELL, POINTY EARED FUCKS!"
A massive explosion rocked the chamber as Horace detonated all the Arcane Mana in the air, trying to minimise the damage done to him.
A white-ish fog followed. Once it cleared Horace was looking... rough. His legs and left arm were broken while he was also bleeding from all the wounds. However the Elves were even worse off - one with ribs sticking from its chest while the other had many cuts across its pitch black skin and its head twisted a bit too far back.
A slow clap sounded as the Elves started disappearing. The Architect appeared above him.
"Wow boy. That was... something."
"Fuck... you..." Horace growled - he really wanted just one chance to kick this guy in the balls. "Re-ally...? El...ves?"
"Yeah yeah, now no time to explain. You are very much dying. Drink." The Architect, realising that Horace was close to death, quickly pulled out a fancy-looking potion bottle, uncorking it and pressing it to Horace's mouth. "This is gonna hurt but, by our theory, as long as it's in you when you die it should work."
The moment he said that, Horace felt like he had just swallowed lava - it burned, he felt his flesh literally melt as the Architect poured it all in.
The last thing he saw was the announcement of the system.
You have earned 144,000 XP by defeating multiple enemies with a significantly higher level than yourself.
You have earned 468,000 XP by defeating multiple enemies with a significantly higher level than yourself.
Horace breathed heavily as only one thought played in his head.
"One more floor. Just gotta beat one more floor." He checked his status and grinned. Level 13 meant one main thing - class skill upgrade. These happened after one gained a class, every third level after gaining it - up to 30 where one would gain a class upgrade or more commonly referred to as advancement.
[Horace Smith, Level 13, Blade Dancer]
Experience: 212,000 / 811,200
Mana: 185/185
Strength: 22
Agility: 26 → 30
Endurance: 22 → 24
Intelligence: 37 → 40
Perception: 18
Unique Skill: Time Dragon's Blessing
Upon death, regress to the earliest possible time in the realm the blessed one occupied at the moment of death, retaining 50% of stats and non-unique skills while keeping other benefits such as proficiencies.
Proficiencies
Bastard Sword [Basic]
Mana Manipulation [Basic]
Mana Enchantment [Minor]
Mana Detonation [Minor]
Manakinesis [Minor]
Mana Corruption [Minor]
Skills
Arcane Enchantment [Passive]! - Any sword wielded by the user becomes automatically enchanted with Arcane Mana, leaving traces of it on enemies struck. Consumes Mana based on the amount of traces left behind.
Manakinesis [Passive]! - Allows the user to manipulate their mana even outside of their body.
Lingering Mana [Passive]! - User's residual Mana lingers in a state of inertia once it leaves their body.
Arcane Explosion [Active]! - Detonates Arcane Mana outside the user's body.
Blade Dance [Active]! - Consumes 50 Mana. For the next minute, residual Mana whirs around the user and strikes out.
En Pointe [Active]! - Consumes 30 Mana. Focuses Mana on the top of the sword before blasting it forward or to the side.
(!) Notice - Skill upgrade available for [6] Skills.
Horace swallowed. It surprised him that all of his skills were eligible for an upgrade. Upgrading a skill was a big deal - it made them at least 50% better. However he swallowed hard - there was a chance that his skill wouldn't be the one he carried over.
"Well. Arcane Explosion is the most useful. It meshes well with everything I have and if I get back to Arcane Swordsman I can level it up again with the duplicate skill. Hopefully I can also break through this goddamn tower on my next round." He muttered under his breath before standing and tapping Arcane Explosion.
[Arcane Explosion has been upgraded into Advanced Arcane Explosion: The user can now shape the explosion of particles affected by it.]
With a large grin on his face he realised that meant he could now detonate the arcane mana in Blade Dance without hurting himself. Or detonate the mana stepping stones he creates with Manakinesis. Even possibly create bolts of energy out of it, pierce an enemy and then detonate them with full explosive force.
"Okay. Time to face the floor where I am certain to die." Stepping into the circle he once again felt weightless. And then appeared in a room with only three enemies.
"FUCK!" He cursed as he saw their names.
[Abyssal Dark Elf Warrior, Level 50]
Dark Elf Warriors. They are a bitch of their own. And worse they are highly resistant to magic - not at the level of dragons, however enough that unless you literally stabbed them with the magic or triggered an explosion point blank they would just ignore it. Worse yet they were warrior caste, trained from childhood on how to disable and kill their enemies, and their armour is enchanted against slashing damage.
"Okay. Elves, main weapons bows and arrows, but they do have swords. And they can use Charm magic..." He muttered, repeating what he remembered from school.
Charm magic was the main issue. It was why even today, with a treaty between the two realms, there were soldiers stationed between them - to prevent Elves from kidnapping humans and making them slaves or pets.
"Okay. Blunt force will work best. They have high agility and Abyssal forms seem to be higher in their main stat, while being detrimental to the others. So this will be like fighting three souped up Abyssal Goblins with better training and intelligence." He breathed and noticed the protective circle flicker.
"Let's go." He growled, grabbing his sword in what he faintly remembered was Mordhau, hands gripping the blade with the pommel facing away from him. This allowed for two things - bypassing the armour and breaking their limbs. After all, no matter how fast you were, you can't do shit with your leg broken.
The first elf was ten feet away. The moment Horace left the circle, it zeroed in on him, drawing its bow. Horace got in close before it could shoot - its ingrained arrogance making it take its sweet ass time.
He swung, straight at its elbow, focusing his arcane mana into an approximation of wind elemental mana to make it faster. The elbow cracked, the arm bending in the wrong way as the arrow shot between his legs.
"It's trying to shoot my knees." He realised as he whirled around and went for a strike at its throat, which the elf dodged. It threw away its bow and pulled out a wicked-looking curved sword, the left arm hanging limp by its side, while speaking something in Elven, which Horace understandably didn't understand.
The elf rushed at him, parrying his sword before twisting it. Horace twisted back and slammed his pommel against its head. He felt the crack as his enhanced strength understandably took a few of its teeth.
They disengaged and Horace only now noticed the other two were chattering, grinning at him. He understood why - Elves tended to prefer to capture humans alive, to either enslave or brainwash them, so letting their companion fight him alone was kind of understandable from a fucked up perspective.
"Bastards." He growled and called upon Blade Dance as they both dashed at each other. Horace had the upper hand in strength and with his Blade Dance up the elf had to be careful not to extend its arms into the near-invisible storm of mana.
However it wasn't one-sided - they locked blades only for the elf to twist his arm and stab his shoulder. Horace growled as he tested his improved skill, which he had henceforth called Blade Claymore. "Yeah. That's gonna be useful later on."
In other words he detonated multiple shards of the Blade Dance, making the whirlwind weaker - however as close as they were it was undeniably powerful. The Arcane Mana exploded and heavily charred its skin - while it was resistant to magic, taking a point blank blast would hurt even a Dragon.
It staggered back, allowing Horace to slam at its head with an overhead strike. He forced more mana into the sword, making it imitate the heavy Earth Mana, and slammed his guard into its head. With a crunch it broke apart, making the elf stop moving, dead.
He ignored the chime as he felt what he feared the most - a fog-like feeling enveloping his brain. For a terrifying moment a thought of kneeling and begging for mercy entered his mind. However, before he was consumed by it fully, with a growl he focused, sliding his hand along the now pretty ruined sword blade, tearing the skin of his palm, snapping his mind free from the insidious magic.
He came back to his senses just in time to dodge the first arrow. The second landed in his abdomen. He quickly snapped the shaft off as he whirled and dashed at the two elves who had obviously decided he was too dangerous to fight one on one.
He used the mana scattered from his first fight to create stepping stones to allow him to dodge arrows with some success - by the time he got the two into a corner he had only taken two more hits, one in his shoulder and another in his chest, his increased endurance making it stop in his rib.
He whirled, swinging the guard at the closer one and predicting where it would dodge, even as they went for their swords. He slammed it into its shoulder and then forced his own mana into the wound, morphing it to take on fire-like properties before ripping the sword out and parrying the attack from the other elf.
The elf used its agility to twist the sword, slashing across his eye, while the other recovered and slashed his back. With a growl he reactivated Blade Dance and immediately screamed. "GO TO HELL, YOU POINTY EARED FUCKS!"
A massive explosion rocked the chamber as Horace detonated all the Arcane Mana in the air, trying to minimise the damage done to him.
A white-ish fog followed. Once it cleared Horace was looking... rough. His legs and left arm were broken while he was also bleeding from all the wounds. However the Elves were even worse off - one with ribs sticking from its chest while the other had many cuts across its pitch black skin and its head twisted a bit too far back.
A slow clap sounded as the Elves started disappearing. The Architect appeared above him.
"Wow boy. That was... something."
"Fuck... you..." Horace growled - he really wanted just one chance to kick this guy in the balls. "Re-ally...? El...ves?"
"Yeah yeah, now no time to explain. You are very much dying. Drink." The Architect, realising that Horace was close to death, quickly pulled out a fancy-looking potion bottle, uncorking it and pressing it to Horace's mouth. "This is gonna hurt but, by our theory, as long as it's in you when you die it should work."
The moment he said that, Horace felt like he had just swallowed lava - it burned, he felt his flesh literally melt as the Architect poured it all in.
The last thing he saw was the announcement of the system.
You have earned 144,000 XP by defeating multiple enemies with a significantly higher level than yourself.