The Boss?

"I am ready," Alice finally broke the long silence.

"So, what will you sacrifice?" Lumière asked, setting the teacup down.

"May I write it down?" Alice inquired.

"I thought you didn't know how to read or write?" Lumière laughed, even as a note and a quill dipped in ink materialized in front of Alice. "Be my guest."

Alice gripped the quill with trepidation. Truth be told, having been blind from birth, she had never learned to read or write. But, just as she had been able to read the card, she speculated she might also possess the ability to write. As Lumière had mentioned, this was 'knowledge to ensure balance'. Now, she was about to put that theory to the test. With her impending inability to hear post-induction, she recognized the necessity of relying on other means of communication.

She placed the quill on the paper and attempted to write her thoughts. To her amazement, she succeeded. The sensation was so surreal it made her hand tremble. The knowledge was indeed there; she could not only see but now also read and write.

Shaking off her astonishment, she focused and began to write earnestly. After a moment, she reviewed the note once more and slid it across to Lumière.

My Might cannot increase in any way.

My Finesse cannot increase in any way.

I cannot wear any equipment except for accessories.

I cannot directly reduce the HP of any entity.

I cannot speak.

Lumière did not even look at the note but looked directly at Alice: "And what do you desire?"

"I suppose I might as well speak this time," Alice smiled.

I possess twice the Might attribute of an average healthy adult human.

My Essence will be further boosted, resulting in a total increase of 100%.

My Mystique will be boosted by 100%.

I can 'see' the words spoken by others as words or images that I can understand.

I can 'see' when someone is lying.

I can project my thoughts into others, as if speaking in their minds.

I can ask you questions freely during my journey.

Lumière took another sip of his tea and said, "Your wishes exceed the bounds. Please reformulate."

After a moment of deep thought, Alice made some changes: 

I possess twice the Might attribute of an average healthy adult human.

My Essence will be further boosted, resulting in a total increase of 100%.

My Mystique will be boosted by 100%.

I can 'see' the words spoken by others as words or images that I can understand.

I possess a passive ability that allows me to write in the air.

While the ability to detect when someone else was lying was a valuable advantage, she considered it inferior compared to the second and third points—her main proposals—and decided not to risk it. After all, she already found it easy to discern lies from truths, and having a skill might make it somewhat boring for her. 

Regarding the questions, while it was an immense boon, she acknowledged that getting it accepted within bounds would probably be asking too much. The first boon was meant to offset her initially halved Might, as she was worried it might cause her physical issues. The last two were to enable her to communicate, considering her lack of hearing and now, the capacity to speak as well.

"Acknowledged. Your wishes are within bounds," Lumière said, looking at Alice. "I wish you the best on your journey."

Alice was rather stunned by the swift progression of events, barely noticing she was already fading from this realm.

"A smart selection for a smart character. Let's see how you do, Alice Fontaine," Lumière said, then vanished from existence.

***

Virgil leveled up

Dante, even now, found himself puzzled by the mechanics of leveling up within The Game. Unlike other games, there was no visible experience bar or indicators to hint at how close Virgil was to achieving a new level. However, it was evident that Virgil was indeed gaining experience—not just the numerical kind that typically dictated leveling up, but the genuine, hard-earned experience that a warrior accumulates through the crucible of battle. He pondered whether this authentic, battle-forged growth was what The Game considered when determining Virgil's readiness to ascend in level.

In his attempts to predict when Virgil might level up next, Dante had even tried to craft a formula, drawing on the pattern of a 50% increase in coins awarded with each enemy level as a makeshift benchmark. Despite his sharpened mental faculties, his calculations never hit the mark, revealing the absence of a discernible pattern or any reliable means to estimate the number of adversaries they needed to overcome for Virgil to level up.

"Still as unpredictable as ever," Dante mused, although he couldn't help feeling a surge of satisfaction at the timing of the level-up. "It was about time you made an appearance," he remarked, half-jokingly admonishing the concept of leveling up itself.

Indeed, even with his mindset recalibrated for resilience against solitude, here was Dante, engaging in one-sided conversation with the abstract notion of a 'Level up' announcement.

Name: Virgil

Class: Undead Summoner

Level: 8

HP: 182.5

MP: 198

Might: 31.5(+5)

Finesse: 30(+5)

Mystique: 54

Essence: 66

Dante perused the available skills once more, only to find the selection unchanged. He surmised that new skills might only appear every fifth level. After some contemplation, he opted to reserve the Skill Point gained, noting that Virgil had encountered no significant challenges in their recent battles. It seemed prudent to accumulate SPs, leveraging them to dramatically shift the tide in future, potentially more daunting encounters.

Continuing their journey through the aftermath of their latest skirmish, Dante and Virgil encountered a stark deviation from their typical path: a gate stood before them, imposing and unexpected.

"The boss?" Dante mused, skepticism mingled with a surge of anticipation. The prospect of facing a fundamentally different challenge after a series of straightforward combats sparked a thrill within him.

Dante surveyed the gate with keen interest. It loomed large, its height exceeding two and a half meters, constructed of wood that boasted both age and sturdiness. Positioned squarely on their path, it offered no alternative route, compelling them to confront whatever lay beyond.

Despite its imposing presence, the gate's design was notably simple, eschewing elaborate decoration for a more understated elegance. The wood, while ancient, was marked with the barest traces of craftsmanship, its surface smooth and unadorned save for the natural patterns of the grain that spoke of its age. This simplicity lent the gate a certain gravitas, as if its creators had intended for it to stand as a testament to time itself rather than a showcase of ornamental skill.

Amidst the whirlwind of curiosity and anticipation, a sudden wave of worry washed over Dante. The presence of what appeared to be a final boss ignited concern: defeating it could mean the conclusion of his current Quest and the culmination of the Tutorial:

Main Quest: Defeat the dungeon boss to complete the Tutorial

This realization brought with it a pang of regret:

"The extra stats and skill points! My pizza!" Dante's thoughts abruptly veered back to the vending machine. After all, he had accumulated a considerable stash of 88,184 TC. The notion of leaving this phase without spending his hard-earned currency and savoring the culinary treats he had long fantasized about—especially the Takoyaki Deluxe, a delicacy he knew nothing about but sounded tantalizing—felt almost sacrilegious. After all, given their designation, Tutorial Coins were likely only valuable within the confines of the Tutorial.

Upon further reflection, Dante reconsidered the likelihood of facing the dungeon boss at this juncture. Firstly, his memory cast back to the forking path they had encountered just before discovering the coveted vending machine. The path had split in three, and he had chosen the left. It stood to reason that the remaining paths held untold challenges yet to be explored—something he hadn't pondered much at the time.

Another consideration was his current coin haul. Despite its impressive size, he was still shy of affording the most extravagant item the vending machine had to offer. Given that enemies seemed not to respawn—a conclusion drawn from both a brief experiment and his own intuition—amassing additional coins through combat appeared off the table. This suggested that further adversaries, and thereby opportunities for coin collection, lay in wait.

Lastly, Dante reflected on the overall difficulty of the Tutorial thus far. It had been undemanding, almost to a fault. He hadn't felt compelled to significantly adapt or refine his strategies beyond the development of the 'Immortal Macro'. This ease of progress didn't align with his expectations of a Tutorial designed to test and temper the players, especially after remembering the skeleton's words.

Piecing these observations together, Dante felt confident that the challenge awaiting them beyond the ancient gate was unlikely to be the dungeon boss. It could be a mid-level or sub-boss, or perhaps something entirely different—a new test. With this in mind, he steeled himself to face what lay ahead, willing to risk his Takoyaki Deluxe.

Hence, Dante, with a twinkle of mischief in his eye, declared it was prime time for Virgil's spectacular entrance. With his trusty, albeit not-so-mighty, summons by his side, he couldn't resist adding a touch of theatrics:

"S1, S2, fling open those gates! Roll out the red carpet—it's showtime for Virgil's grand entrance!"

***

A gut-wrenching scream tore through the chamber's oppressive silence, echoing off the ancient walls. Materializing from the void, a young man in his early twenties collapsed onto the cold, unforgiving stone floor of a vast, shadowy chamber. His arrival was marked by agony and fear; he lay gasping, his breaths ragged and desperate, as terror etched every line of his face. His body convulsed with tremors, so intense that movement seemed an insurmountable task. Wide-eyed, his gaze was fixed on an unseen horror, pupils dilated in sheer panic.

Lifting his head with great effort, he caught sight of it once more—the source of his unending nightmare. Unmoved, unflinching, it sat upon its ancient, dust-covered throne, a figure of eternal stillness. Draped in what once must have been regal attire, now reduced to tatters yet still exuding a ghostly majesty, sat the undead ruler, the skeleton summoner. Its crown, bearing the weight of centuries, perched atop its skull, a silent testament to its timeless dominion.

Despite the lack of life in its hollow sockets and the absence of any semblance of human expression on its skeletal visage, the young man felt the weight of its gaze. It was a look that bore through him, laden with a chilling sense of superiority. To this eternal monarch, he was less than insignificant—a mere insect caught in the vast web of its dark kingdom.

As moments melded into an indistinguishable eternity within the chamber's embrace, the oppressive silence bore down like the ancient dust that cloaked every surface. Gradually, Dante's labored breaths found a semblance of rhythm, the wild pounding of his heart easing into a persistent, throbbing presence. Amid this torturous calm, a transformation unfolded within him—the pervasive fear, while never fully dissipating, was overshadowed by a burgeoning spark of madness in his eyes. Dante, against the shadow-strewn backdrop of terror, did something utterly inconceivable: he smiled.