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Mage's Rebirth

An old cripple awakes as his younger self, ready to right all the wrongs of his life.

Ramkrne · Fantasi
Peringkat tidak cukup
37 Chs

Brutes

My stave came into my hand, almost without a prompt. The seamless transition from the storage ring to war mode was proof enough of the quality of enchantments. I was looking forward to trying out the more violent uses of the staff. I just hadn't expected it to be so soon.

It wasn't the most powerful of the tools I had acquired in the store. Still, It would undoubtedly be able to handle this situation. The mana bolt from the staff's tip made any previous attempts at magic look like a party trick. A bolt with the full strength of a mage came into life, flying at the unsuspecting enemies.

The mana was almost muted compared to my standard attempts. The end result, however, was anything but.

It was only thanks to the enchantments on both my staff and my cloth armor that I managed to escape the blast unscathed.

Even with my incredible progress, I was quite a few months away from reaching a mage's mana level. Yet this one simple use of magic made my lust for power burn a whole lot stronger. The fact that people were walking around who could cause such untold destruction without any thinking was one thing.

The fact that I had managed to join their ranks was very much another.

Sure it was with quite a powerful amplifier, and pretty much any initiate would be able to accomplish the same thing with the resources I had. That didn't stop a surge of pride running through me.

Now I would just have to deal with the rest of the pack who had quickly caught up with me.

My newfound power made my mana bolts rip through the satyrs with ease, each one taking out the many creatures that were together in a row.

Just like that, the tribulation was over. I wasn't thrilled that I had to resort to the big guns within the Dungeon's first floors. It just spoke to how I hadn't been taking the Dungeon as seriously as I should have been. I had allowed my thoughts of invincibility to take me too far once again.

That person could have killed me if they had so chosen, so that was another thing I had to be in constant vigilance of within the Dungeon. They were many people with extraordinary circumstances who would try their hand at the Dungeon, the many benefits were enticing even to royalty, nevermind the common folk. I couldn't underestimate a single encounter in the Dungeon.

I figured since I had now used my staff, it was time to face this floor's boss. The Elites would be a hassle to deal with, all five of them with fully equipped armor, two of which had ranged capabilities. I would have to take them out first.

They appeared much the same as the previous boss fight, five of them sitting around a campfire, the only noise being the fire's crackle. Their size and power was the only difference.

It was almost a peaceful scene.

Two of the Elites at the very back had reed pipes hanging from their neck. Each one would be capable of sending out poisonous darts. It wouldn't be the best thing for my life if I was caught with one of them.

That was why they had to be taken out first.

A simple, empowered mana bolt ensured that neither of them would be able to play their deadly songs ever again. Having magic on the first few levels was truly unfair to the satyrs. It wasn't until the next level that they would have any defense against spells. For now, they were just sitting goats.

Goats that were quickly taken care of with a few more spells. The new power of the staff was intoxicating. It was tough to rationalize, putting it away. Yet I should have done so for this fight.

There was no point pretending I was more than I was just yet. I wouldn't be able to use the staff in the academy. I also wouldn't be able to use it in any of the street fights. Such expensive gear would raise a lot of questions and greedy ideas.

I wouldn't survive long if news were to get out. I wasn't ready to take on a whole city of mages vying for the item.

No, that really wouldn't do. I would attack the next level with only what I had received from the Dungeon and my natural abilities.

The chest that popped up from where the campfire was once lit was quite a bit larger than the one on the previous level. I wasn't sure what I would get as the Dungeon often gave you what it thought you were missing.

Using my stave, I had basically guaranteed that I wouldn't be getting anything else to amplify my magic like the wand from the second floor.

Opening it up revealed a necklace with a shield engraved on the front. Obviously, seeing that I had no issues with my attack strength, the Dungeon decided a defensive treasure would be best for me.

I couldn't argue with it.

The show I put on with the horde following me wasn't the best. This would allow me another lifeline so I wouldn't have to rely on the enchanted clothes' defensive power just yet.

I figured I would also need it on the next level. While brutes were easily avoidable by using a bit of speed, the shaman boss would be an entirely different story.

I was also worried about taking on the next level with the invisible attacker still at large somewhere in the Dungeon. I had little doubt that they would be able to sneak past me now that the path was open down to the next floor.

Whether they wanted to or not, I wasn't totally sure. They had only been killing Elites with two Rabbids on this floor. Facing off two elites at the same time was an entirely different matter. Especially if they were only an average person who happened to stumble across a way to turn invisible.

Hunting the Elites would give great wealth to any average person. Of course, it wouldn't be able to fund much in the way of armor or weapons. Still, as long as they were careful and took their time, with invisibility as their trump card, they would be able to become quite a strong adventurer.

There wasn't an end to the number of ways a party member who could turn invisible would be invaluable to a team. I was also surprised they hadn't resorted to theft for their wealth. It spoke to a good character.

The stairs down to the next level were much the same as the ones on the previous floor.

For the first twenty-five levels of the Dungeon, there was only a change in design with the floors every five floors, each one ending with a big boss battle. Beyond floor twenty-five, however, each level had a separate plan. I wouldn't reach that level for quite some time yet, so for the moment, I would have to continue doing battle with lesser monsters.

That would still be enough to temper me further in the short term, which was all I really needed in the first place.

The fourth level layout was similar to the two above it, the only notable difference being the size of the tunnels to allow the brutes to patrol.

I was lucky on this floor, and there were no patrols immediately in front of me. There were only a few differences between the fourth floor and the rest. The traps that were now laid around the floor being the main one. As obvious as they were, they could still be very deadly.

Each shaman had a slightly different elemental variation every time it spawned in. The type of traps you came up against was a good indicator of what manner of shaman you were bound to fight in this iteration.

I had no real preference for the moment as the shaman had only rudimentary tribal spells that mainly focused on support rather than pure attack.

Moving through the lower floors, the eerie quiet never changed. It was still the same here. I could enhance my senses, but I wanted to leave that for a more intense situation. The mana drain from those types of spells was no joke.

I had allowed myself to recover my mana after the last boss fight, so I was running on full. That didn't mean I wanted to risk the mana loss, especially when the creatures themselves wouldn't use their superior senses.

The thump of the brute alerted me far sooner than I saw the hulking form after all. The Giant goat would have little care for its surroundings.

The creature turning around the far corner made any of the elites look tiny. The Satyr Brute, a beast twice my height. Made of pure muscle and aggression.

It caught sight of me, letting out a noiseless roar, it began to charge.

My first fight with a Brute had just begun.