Master of Dominion-Chapter 62: 2 Days
Rael sat cross-legged in his longhouse, deep in thought. He was going over what Iyvre had said about ascending to the next rank. Though he wasn’t at the peak of the Iron Fighter rank yet having not even undergone his breakthrough to the third tier,he couldn’t help but reflect deeply on the mysteries of the ranks.
"The heart," he murmured.
He found it an oversight on his part that he hadn’t even bothered to notice what really changed within him after he stepped into the first rank. He didn’t blame himself though he hadn’t been in the best position to do so, he had no one to mentor him, and the WarMaster Scripture was either too vague or simply meant for its users to explore their own paths.
Rael focused on the itch in his veins, an odd feeling to begin with. "It starts with the veins," he traced the vein on his wrist up to his shoulders, "then the heart. That becomes a core," he murmured, finally coming to a conclusion.
"So that’s the difference," he thought, seeing why a third-ranked beast was called a Core Beast. Clearly, the Bronze rank was meant to transform the heart into a kind of engine for an Aether warrior.
But then he frowned. "The WarMaster scripture refines the veins through pain... oh, shit." He finally realized that if and when he wanted to step into the next rank, his heart might be the prime target of focused pain.
"Huff." Rael took a breath, choosing to throw those thoughts behind him as he finally closed his eyes, calming his mind with slow inhales and exhales.
He kept doing this for an hour until he felt a slight, warm current pass through his veins. They converged towards his chest but paused there, not going any further, as if there was some sort of blockage.
Rael took a sharp breath, feeling invigorated. He knew full well that he had finally stepped into the third tier of the Iron Fighter rank. He felt a warm sensation wash over him, signaling an increase in his bodily stats, so he drew up his status panel to check.
[Host Interface]
[Name: Rael Drakul]
[Age: 22]
[Gender: Male]
[Race: Human]
[Rank: (Tier 3) Iron Fighter]
[Aether Capacity: 15%]
[Aether Limit: 20%]
[Strength: 12.5 > 14]
[Agility: 11 > 13.5]
[Endurance: 16 > 18]
[Will: 19 > 21]
[Intelligence: 15]
[Aether Reserves: 15%]
[Aether Manuscript: Warmaster Scripture I (Phase: Iron Path Initiated)]
[Aether Techniques: Blood Rend Technique,WarMaster’s Precision]
[Aether Spells: Eye of Critic]
[Quest Logs]
Tier 1: Locate Four Resource Points
Objective: Discover four resources that could benefit the growth of the host’s territory.
Reward: Furnace of Hephaestus Blueprint
Completion: 2/4
[Tier 2 Quest: ??????????]
[Tier 3 Quest: ?????????]
[Tier 4: Survive the Withered Nights]
Status: Dormant
Trigger: In 2 days
Objective: Endure the Withered Nights, a time when corrupted essence floods the land and sanity rots.
Reward: ???
Seeing the changes to his stats and the intoxicating feeling of his increased strength, he couldn’t help but smirk before his face narrowed in determination.
"I’m getting there. Though still far away, I’ll get there eventually... and then I’d be coming for you," he muttered coldly. He remembered that even in the Drakul family, a Tier 3 Iron Fighter held an high positions.
Then Older figures were Bronze ranked, and his deadbeat father was a Silver Knight. Though his current power still meant nothing, he felt proud that he had caught up to, if not surpassed, his fellow mates and siblings
"Anyway, that’s the least of my problems." His attention was drawn to the glowing red quest in his logs. The Tier 4 quest was only two days away from becoming active.
"Two days... two days to say my last prayers," Rael snickered to himself. He rose and headed outside the longhouse. Seeing no one in sight, he used his Dominion Sense to feel Xaphxan dozing off in a corner then chose to head out, planning to test his new strength while exploring his new skill, WarMaster’s Precision.
Of course, he didn’t leave before turning to stare at the House of Alchemy, where he had left Iyvre to undergo her ascension to the next rank.
" I do hope she succeeds"He muttered before,heading out the gate and into the woods
....
"How many of these do you need? Argh!" Ayobe complained, picking a red Pauline flower from a tree sprout.
"Not many, but enough to make poison pellets. Although I detest the use of that vile concoction, I see it as necessary for our survival," Yasmin replied nonchalantly, plucking another red flower from a tree root.
Both her and Ayobe had chosen to head into the woods in search of some herbs that could come in handy ,of course it was Yasmin’s idea to begin with
"And then you’d say you’re not an alchemist," Ayobe chuckled, throwing a jab at Yasmin.
"Tsk. I’m not. I don’t even have such a manuscript, and even if I had, I’d never explore that path," Yasmin scoffed.
"And yet you sometimes speak like one and even make potions yourself. Sounds like the making of an alchemist to me," Ayobe laughed as she struck a pose. "The great alchemist, Yasmin!"
Yasmin smiled. "It seems it has been a long time since I’ve taught you a lesson, hasn’t it?"
"All fun you girls have been having, huh?"
Just then, a cold voice called out, causing the two sisters to frown. They drew their gazes toward a specific direction covered by bushes and immediately stimulated their aether, for they recognized that voice.
"Drogon," Yasmin spat, clenching her fist.
Rustle.
A black-robed figure stepped out of the bushes, glaring with his only functional eye at the two sisters.
"I told you girls I’d find you, did I not?" Drogon smirked as five other robed figures appeared from the bushes as well, effectively surrounding the sisters.
"Too bad, though," Drogon added exaggeratingly, turning his head left and right. "Iyvre isn’t here to save ya."
"And who told you we can’t save ourselves?" Yasmin spat, her palm lighting up in flames as she fired a fireball toward Drogon.
