The four of them stood in the cold, mist-shrouded abyss, their gazes locked onto Xin, the one they had been summoned to aid. Surrounding him was an oppressive darkness, punctuated only by the faint glow emanating from the throne at the center, where Xill leaned casually, his hands resting on its ornate arms. This desolate environment felt alive, heavy with an ancient power that hinted at the need for transformation, a reflection of the struggles within the soul realm.
The fog swirled around them, making the atmosphere dense and almost tangible, as if it carried the weight of unfulfilled destinies. The four figures: Xill, Doom, Death, and Demiurge. Contemplated their next move, their breaths visible in the frigid air. A shared understanding hung between them: they had a mission to guide Xin, but the path forward was clouded with uncertainty.
Xill broke the silence. "Our priority is clear. We must help him harness his abilities." His voice was steady, authoritative. "After all, he is the son of our great Dark Lord, Shen."
Doom's eyes widened in realization. "He is!? Then we must kneel, for he will be our young master!" Without hesitation, Doom dropped to one knee, and the others quickly followed suit, their heads bowed in respect for the lineage that Xin carried.
Demiurge added, "We must raise him to be the next Dark Lord. It is our duty."
"But what if he sides with the light?" Death interjected, a hint of concern in his voice.
Xill shrugged, an enigmatic smile playing on his lips. "Then let him do as he wishes. We cannot question our master's will, can we?" His gaze bore into Death, challenging him to consider the deeper implications of their service.
Doom approached Xin, a flicker of excitement in his eyes. As the Scourge Necromancer, he had a wealth of knowledge about the dark arts, and he intended to share it. "Listen carefully, Xin. I will teach you a fundamental spell, Soul Fire." He emphasized the words, ensuring they resonated with the gravity of what was to come.
"Soul Fire is a skill that inflicts pain on the soul itself," Doom explained, his tone serious. "It can scorch the flesh, but its true potency lies in the torment it brings to one's spirit. If wielded correctly, it can lead to a fatal outcome." He paused, allowing the weight of his words to settle in. "This spell served as the backbone of Necromancer combat long before martial arts intertwined with our craft. It can distract an opponent long enough for a decisive strike."
With a swift movement, Doom conjured a tendril of dark energy and hurled it toward Xin. The young man flinched as the spell made contact, a brief flicker of pain coursing through him before the sensation faded. When he opened his eyes, a scythe glinted ominously at his throat, a vivid reminder of the power he had to master.
"It disrupts the target's soul, creating an opening for an attack," Doom elaborated. "Now, it's your turn. Practice."
Confusion crossed Xin's face. "Wait, I can't return to the real world yet?"
Doom chuckled, a deep, resonant sound. "Time flows differently in this realm. One hour there equals a full day out here. So relax and train."
As Doom settled into a meditative stance, Death stepped forward. "I am Death, and I will teach you Bone Shield." He handed Xin a skill page, its surface shimmering with potential. "This skill is invaluable. You can manifest bones to form a protective barrier. They can shield you from projectiles, intercepting attacks mid-flight."
With a flick of his wrist, Death summoned a skeletal archer, its bony frame animated by dark magic. An arrow was loosed, soaring toward him, but before it could strike, bones swirled into place, forming an impenetrable shield that caught the arrow mid-flight. "Now that's Bone Shield!" Death proclaimed, grinning with pride.
"Demiurge, your turn!" Death called out, passing the training mantle.
Demiurge stepped forward with a theatrical flair. "I will teach you Weaken. This spell is essential for one-on-one combat. It inflicts a debuff on your opponent, halving their stats for a brief period. Initially, you might manage to hold it for seven seconds if you're skilled."
Xin absorbed the information, eager to apply it. In a bold move, he cast Weaken on Demiurge himself, a wave of energy washing over him.
"Such humiliation! Why me?" Demiurge exclaimed, feigning despair as he felt the effects.
"Remember, the duration is maintained by the caster, and you can make it last up to seven seconds," Demiurge explained, albeit with a hint of amusement.
To his surprise, Xin managed to hold the debuff for a remarkable ten seconds. "What willpower! I'm impressed!" Demiurge praised, clapping his hands in delight.
Xin smiled, but a sharp pain throbbed in his head, nearly forcing him to his knees. "Well, perhaps don't push yourself too hard on your first try," Demiurge laughed, the sound echoing in the mist.
"Now that our practice has concluded, you must hone these skills until you reach mastery before seeking further instruction," Xill announced, his voice slicing through the fog. "Now, off you go."
With that, Xin awoke in his room, his body drenched in sweat. He gulped down some water, splashing his face in a desperate attempt to shake off the remnants of the dark training. He felt invigorated yet exhausted, aware that he had much to learn.
In the days leading up to the Newbie Exams, he diligently practiced his newly acquired skills: Bone Armor, Soul Fire, Summon Skeleton, Weaken, and Bone Shield. Each spell was a step toward unlocking his potential, and the thrill of possibility surged within him.
Finally, the day of the Newbie Exams arrived. Xin made his way to the gym, his heart pounding with anticipation. Renji and Anna were already present. Their master, Drey, observed intently, ready to offer guidance and insight.
As Xin was excited to watch the sparring match unfold, he felt a mix of excitement and apprehension. The tradition of the exams had been upheld for generations, and now it was his turn to prove himself. The atmosphere buzzed with energy, each participant aware of the stakes involved.