And I'm back! In a week as promised.
May I say something first...I appreciate constructive criticism and all...this is meant to be a fic that will last a long while and I try to spare no effort in improving it...but if you're going to be RUDE, and overall talk a whole lot of crap when you haven't even done research on the lore of both universes, then you can take it elsewhere.
This is MY fanfic, and I will decide in which direction it goes. Me giving you votes and asking for your opinions does not mean you can just spout any old rubbish and I will tolerate it.
For those that stayed around to support me and kept giving me power stones, to the point where over a hundred was accumulated even though I was not updating, you are all legends and much appreciated, you really are.
Enough with that, on with Volume 2
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[Three Weeks Later]
(General POV)
Freya sat in her chair at the top of Babel, one leg over the other with a chalice in her right hand and her face leaning into her other as she stared below her, her gaze penetrating the floors of Babel Tower and the dungeon all the way down to the fifteenth floor.
She'd found that her favourite pastime nowadays was continuously observing the brilliant soul of Lyzof Keele, the same way anybody else may enjoy watching a campfire.
The beautiful flame in his soul burnt brighter than she'd seen it before and it swelled as more and more power filled the boy. She would find that in the haze of amazement and delight of such vibrancy, she gained an odd sense of clarity and peace of mind.
Usually.
But lately, that had not been the case. Whereas she would normally lean her face into her hand staring dreamily at the child, now it was filled with an expression that was quite hard to read. The closest that could come to describe it was a face of someone on the brink of displeasure, right before the tipping point.
Her zealous Familia were very much aware of the boy's presence by now as well as the rest of Orario. Among the gods, he was simply referred to as 'The Minstrel', while amongst adventurers he was known as 'Record Breaker' or 'Black Newbie', courtesy of the fact that the boy seemed to enjoy wearing black.
Her not so subtle infatuation with him had quickly been caught on to by her children, and no doubt in her mind were they baring their fangs at him, looking and waiting for any excuse to pounce him and treat him with as much as hostility as they could dish out.
That was just the state of her Familia. She supposed that it was simply because she was so invested in him that they hadn't actually done anything and perhaps because Ottar was keeping a tight grip on them as he usually did whenever she set her sights on someone.
Not to say that she had lost interest in Lyze at this point but lately she'd found that she was not as impressed as she had been at first. The boy still grew very much in power, and she would have bet that he'd ranked up a good bit in the past few weeks with how much his soul burned.
But it was the nature of the silver flame itself in the boy's soul that displeased her. Before it had been a controlled fire that blazed with heat and passion, as well as a stable foundation and a steady flicker.
But now the singular flame swelled to great proportions before breaking into other flames, and then those flames would come together again. It flickered madly from side to side and seemed to grow uncontrollably. Passion, ambition, lust and yearning for power had completely taken over, so much so that in exchange for a constant income of growth and power, the boy had done away with his sense of self preservation and integrity.
Put simply, the boy was going mad.
She'd watched as he threw himself into hordes of monsters uncaring whether or not he was run through by their weapons, claws, teeth horns etc. He'd come to a point where he'd not even care about pain. Instead he fought on, deliberately bringing more damage to himself as he fired off his elemental spells, sometimes catching himself in the blast as well.
She couldn't count now how many times he'd burned himself with the pale blue fire he'd somehow discovered, or how many times he'd shocked himself with lightning to prevent himself from succumbing to a Mind Zero.
Just a week ago, the spawn time for Goliath had come by again and it had gone around that the Astraea Familia intended in taking it down this time. But when they got to the 17th floor, they'd found it already dead with its spawn area charred and burnt.
The boy's overzealous use of fire had earned himself another nickname among lower level adventurers, 'Mad Arsonist'.
Freya could not for the life of herself figure out what had changed so abruptly in the boy's temperament that he'd lost self control. The casual swing between moods gave him a very...chaotic personality. One thing she did know however was that this change was sparked by something on the night he'd sang at Ganesha's party.
Freya had never really heard so much emotion thrown behind the lyrics of a song or the thrumming of a piano's keys. At the time, his flame had burned brightly as well though it burned in a different way that was not blinding. It was like a flame that was burning as much as it could to prolong its existence before its inevitable snuffing.
She could only speculate that those few moments he'd spent singing had triggered some sort of painful memory or something within him. It was usually the case. Mortals tended to let almost everything go to heart, perhaps a consequence of their short lives?
Whatever it was, the impact it had had on the current condition of his soul was something that she was not too happy about. Her mind briefly lingered on the temporary water figurine of the strange woman he'd made on the night of the party.
Thinking about that actually, her eyes darted to the table beside her which held the wine bottle and the ice figurine of her that Lyze had given her. For perhaps the hundredth time now, she picked it up and admired it from all angles, drinking in the sheer artwork.
Miraculously, it had not actually melted at all and even now was cold to the touch. Somehow the boy had captured her beauty perfectly, and more than once she'd caught her children staring at it in both envy of the one who made it and desire of it because of who it depicted. It was just that exquisite.
Whereas she would normally sight wistfully at it, now she slightly frowned. The artistry of this masterpiece, the impression it gave was not befitting of the unbalanced soul down there skinning a Liger Fang alive. It was something she sought to rectify, even if the Loki Familia were making no moves to stop it themselves.
"That boy only seems to grow and grow in might, Ottar." She said, not looking at the man standing behind her. He hummed in acknowledgement. "But I find myself...dissatisfied with his progress."
"Why is that, my Lady?" Ottar asked quietly.
"For all he achieves and for how fast he grows..." Freya gripped the figurine a little tightly. "...he has become unhinged, mad with an obsession for strength. And while his body grows stronger, his mind seems easier to break now."
"A dangerous sentiment to himself and his companions." Ottar stated.
"Indeed." Freya plopped the figurine back on the table. "And while it is tempting to see whether or not that fragility of his conscience could be used to bring him under my banner, where would be the fun in that?" She leaned forwards on her propped leg, and sipped slowly trying to savour the wine.
"You would obtain a broken puppet, and not a powerful asset."
"Indeed. I would be quite disappointed if he turned out like the rest. But I know he is better than that. He is still a child after all...or perhaps that's what he wants everyone to believe." Freya said mysteriously.
"My apologies Mistress, but I'm not sure I follow." Ottar said confusedly.
Freya waved it off. "I was once the Arbiter of Souls, Ottar dear. Hundreds upon millions of years of constantly observing and judging souls that have passed on to the after life teaches you how to spot certain things about them. And I have been watching little Lyzof's down there VERY keenly." Freya sat back and closed her eyes. "But that is a matter we need not discuss here Ottar. For now, I have a job for you."
"Anything at all, Lady Freya."
"I believe that now is the time you test his mettle. And while you're at it, I hope you help to bring him back to his senses, and teach him that recklessness in the dungeon is not something that he can afford."
"As you wish." Ottar bowed.
"You will lie in wait on the 18th floor. He tends to go there to freshen up before he moves back to the surface. It is there I want to witness the two of you fight. Make sure you do not treat him like other rookies Ottar. After all, you are one of those most aware that he isn't what he seems..."
"Of course."
"And one more thing."
"Yes?"
Freya smiled. "In all the time he's been doing lone dungeon runs, he has not yet shown that ominous form of his that he utilised against Goliath the first time they clashed. Take it far enough that he is forced to use it Ottar. Do not let him leave until he has done so. I wish to see more on what it can do. And when it is all over, tell him this..."
---
Lyze furiously attacked the old man, his small arm becoming a whirling blur as even the temporary sword in his hands began to phase out of sight with the speed of slashes the boy was sending towards his opponent.
Noir expertly twirled his own sword effortlessly, not so much relying on his superior strength but his technique as he deflected and fended off each one of Lyze's volleys. Obviously, he returned some of his own to put pressure on the child.
But as he'd learnt by now ever since their first training session together, the boy thrived under pressure. Still though, Lyze's incredible adaptation fell short against the veteran's experience and soon, he found himself disarmed with the butt of Noir's hilt smashed into the back of his head.
The boy went stumbling across the grass patch as he lost hold of his weapon while his head rang and throbbed with pain. The pain rose so much that for a moment, Lyze heard whistling in his ears, forcing him to crouch and hold his head while gritting his teeth to make the pain go away.
That did not mean he'd dropped his guard though. His last few weeks in the dungeon had taught him a thing or two about sneak attacks coming from unexpected places and he took the time to actually properly utilize his mastery over 'Thread'.
So he immediately sensed Noir rush forward with his sword poised as if to run him through. Right before the level four managed to skewer him, Lyze flipped off his feet and while mid-air launched a 'Rock-Shot' at him. It was the name of what was essentially a spell that far too often was given the name 'Stone-bullet'. Lyze did not want to use a cliché so he'd made up that name instead.
The projectile flew towards Noir's face but the adventurer quickly dodged, although his sword attack was ruined. So he opted to use his superior speed and punch Lyze in the face before he could land. Lyze want backflipping over and over in the air before landing on his back, the air knocked out of him.
The cold sensation of Noir's sword on his neck indicated the end of the duel. Lyze flopped himself back a bit more and released a sigh.
"Another loss to me it would seem."
"Given with how much more time I've spent at this than you have young'un." Noir said as he removed the sword. "But you have gotten better. Although, how many times have I expressed that the use of magic is forbidden?"
"I cannot help it Noir. I trained myself to be a battle mage, so I utilise both weapons and magic in a fight."
"Well I am training you to increase your sword proficiency. If you want training with magic, I suggest you go to Riveria."
"Please don't say that. She's really been pushing me to attend those magic classes she conducts with her."
"Oh?" Noir raised a brow as he helped Lyze up. "And why have you not gone?"
"Because of those elves." Lyze muttered, irritated. "I can practically hear the derogatory thoughts rolling around behind their eyes every time they look at me."
"And why would they be doing that?"
"Isn't it obvious? I'm a human that does not have the normal limitations of magical law placed on me. Add in the facts that I can generate every element and Riveria has taken a lot of interest in me because of the nature of my magic, it doesn't take a genius to figure out they're jealous the whole lot of them."
Noir shook his head while clasping his eyes.
"I think you're overthinking it son."
"My instincts never lie." Lyze said while wagging his finger. Noir just nodded, sensing that this topic was at its end.
"By the way, why have you still not taken out that special sword of yours in any of our spars huh? You've broken so many over the past three weeks, its just a good thing they are old relics nobody wants in the storehouse. Otherwise every bit of fortune you've made so far would be contributed to replenishing those weapons."
Lyze shook his head.
"I do not want to take out Libur for a while. I just believe it's made things far too easy for me. Taking down Goliath was not something I could achieve with a normal sword at my then level, so it serves as a good bit of learning and an opportunity for appreciating something that doesn't last indefinitely."
"The Astraea Familia are still not very happy with you taking their prize Lyze." Noir chuckled.
"Well I was there first, so I laid claim to it. Simple is, simple as." Lyze brushed it off.
"I know, I know." Noir said, behaving like an exasperated grandfather. But given his age, he may as well have been. "Still though, you really have improved quite a lot. You were already far ahead than your peers in swordsmanship when I began with you. But now you have improved by leaps and bounds. It's no small surprise that you can better yourself that well and in such short time."
"Still not enough to beat you however." Lyze muttered.
"You'll get there one day. And once you're done with me, only then do I suggest you move forward with surpassing the captain of the Freya Familia."
"How did you even find out about that anyway?"
Noir threw his arms up.
"It was all over town. How the 'Record Breaker' stood up to the strongest of the current generation and proudly declared that he would surpass him. You've got a real pair on you."
"I meant every word." Lyze said as he looked to the sky. "I have no choice but to go through with it."
Noir cocked his head and leaned on his sword with a slightly worried look on his face.
"What exactly does that mean, son?"
Lyze snapped out of his thoughts and shrugged it off.
"Forget about it." He said waving his hand as he went back to pick up his current sword.
"They are all worried about you, you know?" Noir said softly.
"Who?"
"You know who. Finn, Riveria and Gareth. Not mention sweet little Ais as well. They've been quite worried about you. All you do everyday is go to the dungeon and either come back half dead with exhaustion or with injuries. This fanatic accumulation of stats frenzy you've thrown yourself into is not quite healthy, in any aspect of your life."
"We all fight or something Noir." Lyze said as he began waking away. "My objective does not afford me time to rest. I must become as strong as possible in the shortest amount of time possible if I wish to achieve my goals."
Noir watched as the child walked away, unwanting to continue this conversation. The old man shook his head.
'And once again he doesn't answer the question.' He thought sadly. He took out a sheet of parchment Loki had given him for reference in their spar. 'But whatever it is he's fighting for, it darn well gives him good stat growth, that's for sure. Kid's these days though, so impatient...'
---
Lyzof Keele
LEVEL: 2
STR: 113 H - 608 C
END: 127 H -598 D
DEX: 31 I - 347 F
AGI: 104 H - 600 D
MAG: 258 G - 612 C
SKILLS;
{Xenia Khaos}
{Overdraft}
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