The Arcane Emperor - Chapter 162: Preparation for War

Rainer started laughing as he stared at his hand, drawing the attention of his party just before they left the rest area.

“Rainer?” Kara asked, a bit worried. She was aware that much of the skills and training he had received and had been doing related to the Soul. While she may lack a Mage’s knowledge, she knew what type of consequences that could draw. Only he could play with such things lightly, but…

“If you were twice as strong, in every possible way, would your last Trial have been hard?” Rainer asked in between laughs.

“No?”

“Exactly!” Rainer chuckled and left the rest area.

It took Kara only a moment to understand what his Trial reward related to.

Rainer had long since expected an ambush, which was why he had his Mana-Well Avatar check on the situation. According to what he saw, and Elelaria’s borrowed information network, many of the parties had been waiting for him.

‘Him’ being the winner, and waiting not for him to come out but for him to win. Whether through other parties in the Dungeon or information spread amongst themselves, it became widely known that the Dungeon’s first stage would continue existing as almost a separate world for a month. And that not only would resources be up for grab, there would be chances to gain experience beyond just killing monsters. Without the limits of parties, entire Guilds and the strongest of the Dragon Isles and other countries entered.

After the Dungeon had turned out to have such a singular reward, many parties couldn’t wait for this opportunity. No matter their goals or motivations, there was no one waiting around for Rainer.

That said, the otherworldly invaders—Rainer was well aware of the irony in offensively calling them that—had yet to make another appearance.

Rainer’s own party had plans to re-enter the Dungeon, though they held back for two reasons. One, they wished to wait for Rainer as Talvara would be taking a much needed break, and two they needed to interrogate a little prisoner of theirs. Something that couldn’t be done without Art’s aid.

Aurora herself wouldn’t even be available for rescue missions as Talvara was going to do some more modification after some of the rewards the Abyssal Elf, if she really was that anymore, had received. Art’s and Amer’s teleportation was far too risky to rely on as a saving device from Tier 3 monsters.

So while most of them went off to help prep the Enchanter’s Guild for leaving this world prior to any invasion, those willing in any case, Rainer, Tian of the Farseers, and Art, along with a napping Luna, headed to a deserted island to speak to someone.

Zan-Lan shook his head as he blearily came to consciousness. Or at least tried to. Nothing other than his mouth gasping for water seemed to function like it should. He happily accepted the offered drink even before he managed to see clearly again.

The face of the red-headed monster and the Arcanist met him, reminding him of just what his situation was. A blind man somehow using the passive magic of their state was beside them. How…

“Wait, stop, please,” Zan-Lan quickly blurted out. “There’s no need for unpleasantness,” the High Elf rushed to continue as he saw how displeased his statement had made the Arcanist. Had the mad violet thing desired to torture him? Was he so angry at the denial of it?

“I’ll answer any questions,” he said, hoping his companions would hold that man back.

Zan-Lan wasn’t proud of it, but it had been centuries since he had truly been at war. And he couldn’t really ever claim to have experienced torture of any sort. He had been captured before. But when the other side was a similarly large force, there was protocol in place for this type of thing. We don’t torture your important ones, you don’t torture ours and happily accept whatever outrageous sum for their return.

But he got the feeling these barbarians knew their position as a lesser opponent.

And the High Elf knew he’d eventually succumb to their torture before the main force got here to rescue him, especially given that he hadn’t been rescued already. Rather than answer their questions while he was missing a limb, he may as well do so in good health. And it wasn’t as if giving any information to these people would matter when their conquering army came. Even a farm-raised Tier 3, so long as they weren’t surprised, and poisoners of this power weren’t common place, should be enough.

“Why did you come here,” the Arcanist asked, looking even more displeased than before.

“To seek out the Dungeon,” the High Elf said cautiously, noting a pair of invisible eyes on his mana pool. A truth-reading spell. Not willing to risk that it wasn’t advanced enough to catch a half-truth, he continued, “and conquer whatever world that held it.”

Only his centuries of age kept him from looking visibly shocked. That answer had pleased the Arcanist? What sort of world did they step onto?

Zan-Lan sighed and went on answering the questions, noting with confusion that they avoided being too invasive. It seemed they didn’t want to push his willingness too far for whatever reason, or they were calibrating truth spells on him. As he had no intention to lie, he relaxed and answered them simply.

Whether it was about his own strength relative to the state or other information that wasn’t exactly a secret he answered it happily. He even with glee described their farm-raised Tier 3’s and other reserve forces of the state. It had become a tradition to put their strongest in stasis 50 or so years before their death. The stasis wasn’t perfect, but it was enough for them to be the last line of defense, or offense, if ever needed millenia down the line. Usually Divines were the only reason they were used.

“Why did you rush a second 3rd Tier class so soon?”

[Appraisal]? Zan-Lan questioned internally, having been momentarily stopped by this question.

“Rush? I do not follow.”

“Your highest level is only 4.”

“Only?” Zan-Lan asked, barely keeping his anger in check. Only, he says.

“You are without Tier 3’s on this planet?” Zan-Lan asked.

“Yes,” the red-head answered, making the High Elf feel that for everything he learned he only gained ten more questions. Though that they just revealed such important information made him worried.

“I am not a skilled mage, despite my talents for it. Runes never clicked for me. In fact, reading has always been a struggle no matter how I’ve leveled the skill with points,” he admitted with some embarrassment but wasn’t willing to risk setting off their truth spells.

“And?”

“And, acquiring titles of the 3rd Tier nature in order to level our classes is not an easy thing to do without magics of the 8th Tier. And getting experience the normal way is a fool’s errand.”

He had gotten his best title through luck, after all.

“As for the why, the answer is simple. My lack of an ability to level the first, while still making me a rarity amongst my people to simply have a 3rd Tier class, meant I was amongst the weakest,” As far as Zan-Lan was concerned, the farm-raised didn’t count.

“It was hard to care that you stand above millions when your peers are greater than you. So I did what many of them weren’t willing to do: I took the trial again. I admit it was youthful folly—” he had only been 532 at the time, “it was a bad idea. But luck was on my side, and the extra life was a great reward.

“And the extra strength was everything I needed,” he added with as much pride as he could. Given his current circumstance, that pride wasn’t much. How it irritated him to be surprised so. Let alone capture him, those of the 2nd Tier shouldn’t be able to hurt him. That he was pinned down like a common man and cut into, rankled him dearly. Being caught by a Mage who somehow mastered a magical poison to such a degree and was capable of teleportation was just bad luck, but the rest was his own folly and arrogance. Had he used his skills beyond just a simple fist and casual step, would they not have all died in an instant? Oh how he wished to be around when his people came and dissected this strange humanoid Arcanist.

“Extra life?” the red-haired man questioned.

“Yes… unlike the 2nd, every additional 3rd Tier class gives you another 50 to lifespan.”

That they weren’t any longer pretending to know more than they did, scared Zan-Lan. But he continued answering, knowing that it was only a matter of time before they perished and he was rescued. Time was all he needed.

It was some time later that they managed to ask the first question that made him uncomfortable.

“What spells can you give us?”

“We are bound when we receive them. Nothing I’ve learned from the state can be given,” Zan-Lan said truthfully. “Should I try, the knowledge of the spell erases from me.” The ancient High Elf that served as their Imperial Chancellor, a position of great power but only chosen responsibility, was a devious Soul Mage.

Zan-Lan let out a grateful sigh as they seemed to leave it at that. The process was not pleasant and not even his 3rd Tier Soul made it that much more tolerable.

Rainer looked over the unconscious Zan-Lan after they finished questioning him for a few hours. It had been an… experience. As useful as his willingness was it scared them just as much. It wasn’t hard to guess that this High Elf thought nothing of them.

“It was wise to begin getting the Guild ready.”

“That it was. I’ll have to do something nice for Elelaria for getting that started ahead of time.”

Rainer glanced at the High Elf. It was time to put him into a longer sleep.

It was an hour later that with a joint effort of his mother and Art, they managed to put the High Elf into a sort of living death. Knowledge of more 3rd Tiers coming meant it was worth keeping this High Elf alive and that the risk wasn’t much greater than what they would face anyways. They’d hide him from magic as best they could, and Art would handle studying the passive spells within him once they were done with the Dungeon.

“I’m sure you are all aware of the circumstances, so I will be brief,” Rainer said to the large gathering of the Enchanter’s Guild, “this world is to be invaded. And already has by one of the 3rd Tier.”

The hushed whispers were enough to know Elelaria never mentioned that part of it.

“So you will be heading to another base. So long as you are under my command, I would never let you be in such danger.”

Some of their eyes practically asked where in the world they’d be safe. But they all had the respect not to interrupt him. Having a class of legends did have its benefits.

“The world you are heading to is filled with ambient mana, calmer than the Dragon Isles, but far thicker and worldly prevalent. Enchanting there is a bit of a challenge, but I’m sure you will find a way to occupy yourselves. Gather yourselves and those you wish to take with you into the courtyard within an hour. This is not a test, and you will not be rewarded for staying,” Rainer said and they barely kept themselves from running as he dismissed them. An invading force to enchanters meant a new master chasing after them.

Only some of the stronger Mages among the enchanters had any calmness, though that was mostly ruined as they, like children, came up and asked him about world travel, the threat of others completely forgotten. It seemed the rest were too busy worrying about their lives to yet be shocked about world travel.

He hoped they could figure out how to run the machines of that world on mana crystals, or in other words the Mana-Well. They wouldn’t have much to do otherwise he imagined, other than tinker with their attuning spells and help their less talented descendents take advantage of the ambient mana to awaken. He’d explain anything more in depth once he figured out who was willing to go.

“Do not resist.”

Rainer said as he overlooked the courtyard, taking as many as he could into living storage, before leading the rest and their families elsewhere. It looked like he’d be pushing the limit as to just how many people he could carry.

After moving everyone, Elelaria included, and sending the Werewolves back to their village, Rainer’s group and extended family that hadn’t gone to the Mana-filled world prepared themselves for re-entry—or for some, first entry—into the Dungeon. He planned on sending his Avatar with them, while he, Kara, Luna, Sarah, and Gunthar went to go explore the planet he and Amer fell to. Lilia and Tiamat would be coming along once the place was confirmed to be mostly safe.

He had offhandedly learned from Zan-Lan that planets tended to have weaker monsters and safer environments than planes. That passed-by planet seemed like a good destination to relax for a bit and play around with their newly gained skills and items. There was always time for seriousness in [Sleep Learning]. And the Farseers had ways of reaching him for when things truly started getting heated.

There was little point in waiting around for the invaders, even if he planned on fighting them. Why would he fight from an easily found position? He was a walker of the Void, not a castle. Whether it was Kara’s family, the Forbidden Lands, or the connection to the Fae, he wasn’t planning on giving any of them up.

But given that he needed an Avatar on permanent Mana-Well duty, he first had to finish his business across the universe in a far different type of ‘world’.