Chapter 11

  Who Are These People?

  Kaelis was disturbed.

  When he first hired his two new attendants, he’d assumed they were fools. The only reason he’d given them a chance was desperation.

  But now?

  Well, he still thought they were fools… but potentially very dangerous ones.

  He felt a little embarrassed that he’d never even thought to ask their names. In his head, he’d just been referring to them as ‘attendant 1’ and ‘attendant 2’. However, he’d overheard several of their conversations. What was it that they had called each other…?

  Pete? Rel?

  The names tickled something at the edges of his memory. They sounded familiar, as if he had come across them before. But where? And why? They were only attendants, after all.

  He cast a furtive glance over his shoulder. The two of them were arguing, Pete gesturing angrily to the back of his shirt. There was a large hole in it where one of Rel’s fireballs had struck him. It had a diameter of about thirty centimetres, the fabric around the edges charred black.

  Rel’s fireballs…

  Kaelis was no expert on the mystic arts – he’d always been far more interested in pursuing the path of the warrior – but even he knew how difficult it was to learn such a high-tier spell. Someone who learned the spell in a month would be considered a prodigy, a potential future powerhouse of the galaxy.

  To learn it in a few minutes…?

  And Pete…

  The human had now taken his shirt off and was poking his head through the hole in the back. He’d raised his voice, but due to the distance separating them, Kaelis could hear little of what was being said. However, he was fairly certain the words ‘two silver’ had been repeated several times.

  When Kaelis had battled against the arcane crocodile, he’d done everything he could to avoid the creature’s fireballs. He knew that if one of them had hit him, he’d have been cooked alive inside his armour. To his knowledge, at least a dozen other Trialists had met such an end.

  Pete had taken one directly to the back - with nothing to protect him other than some flimsy clothing - and the only evidence it had even happened was a hole in his shirt and a barely noticeable pink tinge to his skin.

  What durability level would one need to have to so casually withstand such a powerful attack? Kaelis was very proud of his durability of eight. He’d worked hard on it and knew it was considered above average at this point in the trial period.

  What must Pete’s be…?

  And why were their names so damn familiar?

  Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

  * * *

  My poor shirt…

  The thing was truly beyond repair now. I was a little annoyed with Rel at first, but the more I thought about it, the more I realised he was right. I probably did deserve it.

  I sighed.

  Thankfully, my period of mourning for my shirt did not last long. I was too excited for that. Not only had I gained a point in strength and durability - I’d also discovered a new stat! It appeared that my mad dash through the trees, ducking and diving to avoid Rel’s fireballs, was enough for me to earn a point in agility.

  I glanced at Kaelis to make sure he could not overhear. He had been acting a little strangely – even more so than usual – since our encounter with the final boss.

  I wondered what was on his mind.

  “Do you know what I’ve realised?” I asked Rel. “We’re following this guy around for one gold a day, doing the grunt work, while he gets all of the stat gains and loot.”

  “True,” said Rel. “So what?”

  “So, we need to come back here on our own,” I continued. “This place is like a treasure trove of gains. Ten levels of increasing difficulty, countless enemies to fight, and lots of valuable items to be looted. With my incredible skills in close combat…”

  Rel attempted to interrupt. I assume it was so he could agree with my assessment of my fighting skills, but I didn’t give him the chance.

  “And your ability to cast big ass fireballs, we could easily handle any creature on this first floor,” I finished.

  “That’s true…” said Rel thoughtfully, and then his lips parted into a huge grin. “We might also find more scrolls!”

  My back tingled uncomfortably at the thought.

  Honestly, I’d expected a place called ‘The Tower of Potential’ to be more difficult. The enemies we’d seen so far had been… underwhelming. Maybe the first floor was just a nice little warm up, then the later floors would ramp up in difficulty.

  Either way, it didn’t matter.

  My mind had already drifted off into daydream land. I could picture it now: Rel and I, an incompetent wannabe magus and a skilled, handsome warrior, battling our way through a horde of deadly foes, gaining stat after stat, stockpiling huge quantities of valuable loot… it was going to be epic!

  It wasn’t. But we’ll get to that later.

  “Then the question is,” said Rel. “Do we ditch this guy now or help him finish his run?”

  I turned outraged eyes on Rel.

  “Ditch him?” I asked, scandalised. “Ditch him!? We’re professionals! We will stay and do our duty, no matter the hardships we have to endure.”

  Rel studied me for a moment, one eyebrow raised.

  I avoided any and all eye contact.

  “Professionals,” he said slowly, as if tasting the word. “Are you sure it’s not because we won’t get paid if we ditch him now?”

  No comment.

  * * *

  “This tunnel will take us to Floor Two,” said Kaelis over his shoulder, without breaking stride.

  Tunnel?

  “I thought this was supposed to be a tower. Shouldn’t there be a staircase somewhere to take us to the next floor?” I asked.

  “You just don’t understand the complexities of the arcane arts,” said Rel, somehow looking down his nose at me despite being less than a foot tall.

  “And you’re saying you do?” I replied. “You’ve known one spell for about twelve minutes. What the fuck do you know about the ‘arcane arts’?”

  Rel sighed grandly.

  “I don’t think you’d be able to comprehend my teachings,” he said, turning a pitying look on me.

  It wasn’t the ‘you feel bad for someone going through a difficult time’ kind of pity. It was the ‘this guy is so dumb that I’m surprised he remembers to breathe’ kind of pity.

  “Okay then, master of magic,” I snapped. “Explain how walking through a tunnel takes us up to the next floor of a tower.”

  “Very well,” said Rel, clearing his throat. “The floors of The Tower of Potential exist within isolated pocket dimensions. We’re not actually going ‘up to the next floor’ in the conventional sense. The tunnels act as a bridge between dimensions. As to why tunnels and not stairs? Isn’t it obvious? Stairs are inefficient from a magical standpoint. Tunnels result in fewer arcane disturbances and improve, err… mana flow.”

  I looked at him through narrowed eyes. I couldn’t decide if he was fucking with me or if he actually knew what he was talking about.

  “I’m just telling you what any other half-competent archmage would,” he said with a shrug.

  “Know many of those do you?” I asked, my eyes somehow narrowing further.

  “Of course.”

  “Name one.”

  Rel paused for a moment.

  “No.”