"Now, bear the fruits of your labor!"
With a final, ceremonious wave, Zorrenor led our teachers and the class instructors through an unassuming door, leaving the fifty-five of us reclined in our bramble thrones, staring at the writhing mass of arcane vines above.
Like the writing tentacles of my Eldritch Abomination, the vines coiled and reach out. Down towards the brow of every page in the room to nearly blind us with an arcane radiance. Like a liquid crystal ball, the excretion clung to the tip of the stalactite long enough for me to wonder how the eldritch creation was faring before the drop fell.
Like a fat raindrop falling onto a pond, the sap, or whatever it was, splat between my brows, sending a burning pulse through both bodies, material and spiritual. The energy, or whatever it was, intensified further with each drip. Each splat between my drow set the temperature of a heat I had no immunity to a higher and higher setting. And when it grew to an almost unbearable intensity, it suddenly waned.
In an orgasmic second, the heat receded to the pinpoint of its origin and congealed into a palm-sized disco ball of black and gold.
The dissipating heat soon brought on a shudder that rattled the throne below me. Simultaneously, the ceiling above writhed. The stalactites shriveled into stumps made of vines and then regressed further into cobalt-blue pits that spurred the fruit-bearing vines we were so desperate to see. And more.
Crawling among those deep red-brown vines, teetering atop the thick blue veins that gave the wood its arcane vibrancy, were creatures that stole the air from my lungs.
They glowed with the same radiance as the veins, appearing as insects with transparent carapaces formed into a rough diamond shape. And through that clear chitin, I saw what could only be described as circuitry of an arcane variety. It was their very flesh, spread throughout their comparatively tiny body from head to toe.
They, the Divine Aphids, made me curious, to say the least. But my curiosity soon turned into anxiousness once they burrowed into the object that occupied a large portion of my mental for the last fifteen years.
The fruit of my labors was an oversized, hideless durian, though it still had the spikes that made the fruit instantly noticeable. And those spines emitted a golden radiance that was only seen from the quills lining the edge. Those on the face remained as black as the void, giving the surface a mangled, brainy texture in my darkvision that was as unsettling as the aphid crawling around inside.
As disgusting as it may have seemed, I felt almost compelled to taste it. I felt famished. I felt as if my efforts over the past year racked up a bill of exhaustion that was just now paid off with interest. I felt as if I hadn't eaten in my entire life. So, desperately, and yet calmly, I pulled the fruit towards me to sink my teeth into its flesh.
It was… tasteless. But contained every taste and texture familiar to the tongue all the same. Salty and sweet and bitter and sour and savory. Chalky and rich and creamy and powdery. And it was filling. Like the food of legends, a single bite stated my endless hunger and enriched every aspect of my being. But only for an instant.
I took another bite. And another. And soon I found myself taking another in my never-ending loop of satiation and hunger. Yet, I remained distracted by the ambient mana coalescing into tendrils of radiant-coated darkness before my eyes.
[Blessing Granted: Telin's Grace - As Telin's Champion, you are blessed as the most beloved by mana in this universe, making mana bend to your will better than any other.]
[Blessing Granted: Telin's Sight - Your connection with Telin, the creator of all, enables you to peer down the many paths available to those who meet your gaze. Or, your own.]
[Blessing Granted: Telin's Hand. By your standing under the Creator's wing, you passively grant a higher tier of affinity cores to those who stand under yours.]
"Holy shit!" I recoiled in unbridled surprise after the words began to fade. Along with the rest of the room.
Though, I had to remind myself that the best was yet to come. And thankfully I did, as a sharp tingling began spreading throughout my entire body while new words began to form before me.
[Prestige Class: Void Sorcerer- The Path of Zefroth.]
[Level 1: Hear Evil, See Evil, Speak Evil.]
[As one of the Darkest Devils of the Nox, you are able to walk the path that leads through to the end of the Abyss. Through Darkness, Death, and Void you will venture. From the other side, you will emerge before legions of devilkin to take the throne as their God. To make the first step, summon your closest Devilchild to learn from them the language of your kin. Then, make your first deal in the tongue of your people.]
'And there it is.' I grinned in satisfaction. Then grinned harder and wider after reading further down the line. Not only did my blessing allow me to see what needed to be done to move forward in the higher levels, but I was also able to see the rewards as well.
And oh, were they exciting.
However.
[Prestige Class - Cleric of Telin: The Eternal Path]
[Level 1 - Divine Portfolio]
[As Telin's Chosen, you are beloved by mana more so than any other. But as an Unproven Eternal Seed, you were born a Divine Soul, stunted in maturation until the time of your evolution. Now that your divinity has awakened, you can take your first step down the Eternal Path. This first step to godhood is to finalize your Divine Portfolio.]
I could hardly think about the Class or look down on the rewards, as an intense pressure soon grew out of the sharp tingling I felt earlier. Though it was small and thus manageable, I couldn't help but look around to see if anyone else felt it before I was distracted by more words appearing before me.
[Master Class - Grandmaster Artificer]
The feeling disappeared almost entirely as I smiled wider and leaned forward a bit to absorb the details of my most-awaited class.
[The path of the Grandmaster Artificer is open only to those who have an understanding of and experience in manipulating both the natural and arcane worlds. Those individuals, with the potential to master all forms of craft, must do just that to call themselves a Grandmaster Artificer.]
[Level 6 - Grandmaster Industrialist.]
"Goddamn!" I gasped again, then almost gasped in pain as ripples and waves churned within my spiritual body.
The pain, mild though it was, was concentrated mostly around my brain and eyes, but also within my hands and seemed to burn intensely as yet more words formed before my eyes.
[Lvl 1 Reward: Mutation - [Artificer's Cookbook.] Your mastery of the basic aspects of crafting has granted you perfect recall of all the things you have learned to create, giving you precise knowledge of the materials and techniques needed for an item's creation.]
[Lvl 2 Reward: Mutation - [Audit]. Your grandmastery of crafting has granted you proficiency in identifying the quantity, quality, and material worth of all products or raw materials in your possession.]
[Lvl 3 Reward: Skill - [Appraisal.] Your mastery of the artisinal crafts has given you a keen eye in ascertaining the nature, monetary value, and quality of any non-living object with but a bit of concentration.]
[Lvl 4 Reward: Skill - [Locate Possession.] The result of your grandmastery of the artisinal craft is the permanent mark of your magical signature bonded onto any object of your creation. By concentrating on this mark and the item in question, its whereabouts can be located across any distance, and on any non-divine plane of existence, so long as ownership of the item has not been granted to another.]
[Lvl 5 Reward: Skill -[Material Handling.] Your grandmastery of manufacturing has given you an innate understanding of the inner workings of raw materials. With one minute of focus on one hundred cubic centimeters of material, you can ascertain the properties of any material.]
[Lvl 6 Reward: Skill - [Material Purification.] By becoming a Grandmaster of Industry, you have learned to make the most out of whatever material you find along your way, sparing nothing to bring your creations to reality. Because of this, you have gained the ability to exchange a tremendous amount of mana and an hour of focus to increase the quality of any raw non-magical material by one tier.]
"Jesus Christ!" I gasped in satisfaction.
While I didn't need the cookbook to know what I needed to create things, the other perks were far better than I could've imagined. Especially the last two, as I had and would surely come across many unknown materials that were low in quality.
With the tingling subsiding, however, I realized I couldn't let my thoughts linger for too much longer and so I quickly scanned through the next rank until more words appeared.
[Level 7 - [Grandmaster Alchemist:]
[Task: Craft either 1,000,000 Common potions. 500,000 Greater potions. 100,000 Superior potions. 10,000 Supreme potions. Or 1,000 Legendary Potions.]
'A grandmaster through and through.' I chortled in mild despair. And chortled again after seeing the paltry reward for the arduous task.
Still, though, I had well over fifty liters of fresh unicorn blood in my umbral pocket, so my mirth wasn't stolen entirely. And even less so, considering the basics of enchanting is what followed and even continued until levels 14 and 15, grandmastery of weapon and armorsmithing respectively. And then would I arrive at the stage the big gnome himself was stuck at.
Runes.
With such lucrative rewards, I couldn't wait to go out and give them a test run. But soon, the coveted darkness formed into more radiant words before my eyes, leaning me forward expectantly in my seat.
[Master Class - Monk: The Way of Death's Door.]
[Level 1: Uninitiated - As one with the strongest ties to the Underworld, you have grown accustomed to toeing the line with death in a way unlike any other. By dancing with death, the energies of your spirit have learned to meld with those of the Underworld. By meditating under the Shadow of Death, your mind has familiarized itself with its embrace. Yet, your body remains an unsuitable vessel for this energy. To begin the Way towards Death's Door, your flesh must first become attuned to the monastic traditions.]
I felt a soundless sigh of relief escape my lungs after reading through the words. Though I didn't want to admit it, a seed in my mind had germinated after months upon months of failing to circulate ki within my body. In hindsight, I realized, the crafty drow never intended for us to circulate it. She only wanted our minds to grow accustomed to it.
Mind, body, and spirit. It all made sense to me now.
But what didn't make sense was the ambient mana condensing before my eyes once again. Compressing into wispy lines of glowing darkness that stole every bit of excitement and joy from my slow-beating heart.
[Master Class]
"Huh?"
[Rogue Devil: Soul Mastermind.]
"W… what?"
[Level 1: Branded]
"No."
[Your chaotic nature and disregard for any law but your own has led you to eschew the ways of your devilkin. You have gone rogue. Yet, your talent for dealing with souls is unmatched by all but the most powerful of Archdevils, thus your standing within the caste remains uncontested. However, your relationship is tenuous. Lest your kin turn their blades on you, you must forever bring glory to the Abyss and keep your standing in the hierarchy by showcasing your prowess in dealing with souls evermore. To accomplish this, you must first learn the Thieves Cant and create your Rogue Alias.]
Rogue.
The word repeated in my mind. Echoed like the haunting steps of a leviathan. Among others.
Relationship. Tenuous. Hierarchy. Standing.
I was their god, yet they'd turn their blades on me?
The thought was laughable.
But then, I felt a sudden tingling wrap around both wrists.
For the first time in this life, worry crept up my spine as I looked down to see seafoam green flames reaching across my wrists to form binding chains of eldritch text that seared me down to my bones.
Thus branding me as a rogue devil.
"What the fuck!?!"