I kick the door shut with my heel and flop onto the narrow bed, the mattress yielding just enough to cradle my aching frame. Exhaustion tugs at me, but my mind spins from that training session. Eye of Power limits, my bloodline still dormant. Time to dive into this damn Archive again, see if it holds more than what Odin fed me before.
I lean back, closing my eyes. "Odin, pull up the Archive. Focus on bloodline stuff and the Infinite Eyes. Whatever's buried there."
A faint chime echoes in my skull. Holographic panels burst into existence, hanging suspended in the air like holographic screens.
I wave a hand through the closest projection, a book titled "Eternal Convergence Origins." Bloodline abilities like accelerated healing, mana absorption, but nothing specific to my situation. Just basic generic notes. Just endless theories on affinities and different spell combinations, which will be useful in the future but not now.
Frustration knots my stomach. What was the point of this Archive if you weren't going to at least explain the gift?
Sigh
Looks like I have to figure this out myself. You know the novels I've read, I don't think this is how a golden finger usually works.
"The Archive contains raw knowledge, not tailored guidance. Maybe looking at other areas of archive can you give an idea towards your next step " Odin's voice cuts through, calm and precise, a metallic undertone that vibrates in my thoughts.
I chew my lip, staring at the floating array. "Like what?"
"Consider the exploration records. The Warlock documented numerous anomalies during his travels. Patterns emerge from those accounts."
"Okay, bring it up"
The holograms shift instantly. New panels manifest, field journals detailing forgotten lands and treasures found. Maps unfurl in deep purple, dotted with orange markers for mana flares and beast sightings. I scroll through with mental commands: expeditions into shadowed ruins, diaries from the Elf Domain, skirmishes in the Demon Realm's outskirts, even a brief on Mana Wars relics.
My eyes narrow at one entry, marked in bold crimson: "Dungeon Rift: Gravemind Reprise."
"Odin, what's this?"
"The Dungeon Rift known as Gravemind Reprise. It's located in the Dark Forest on the border of Varnhold and Eidengard, in a place called the Umbra Hollows. A place that is shrouded in fog even during the day. The Warlock's knowledge details that no one knows about the dungeon."
I skim the entry, my eyes darting across the shimmering text. It describes that it radiated high-density magic power. Aurelian's notes boast of incredible rewards gained after a single clear.
Then, the kicker. Aurelian discovered that the dungeon possesses a unique Respawn Cycle. Every month, on the exact same day, the dungeon resets, restoring its mana and creatures. It's a renewable source of power.
My pulse quickens. If I could clear this, even once, I could skyrocket my growth.
I'm about to ask Odin for coordinates when his voice cuts through my excitement.
"I do not think that is a good idea, Cael."
I pause, frowning "Why? It sounds like the perfect shortcut."
"Analysis of the Warlock's logs indicates the Dungeon Rift is B-Rank," Odin states. The hologram shifts to display a threat assessment, a glowing red warning label pulsing in the center. "The ranking system suggestion that you must be at least a peak C rank to b able to clear this dungeon. Attempting a B-Rank Rift at your current D-Rank statistics is statistically inadvisable."
I stare at the warning, the red light reflecting in my glowing blue eyes. A B-Rank dungeon. The monsters inside would tear me apart right now. I did take out that beast after getting the legacy but i can only use my powers at full power for five minutes, and I can't survive with just that.
"Right," I mutter, clenching my fist. The power of the Warlock is within me, but my physical shell is still weak. "So, I go after I've reached C-Rank."
Sigh
I grumble, waving away the hovering text of the Archive. I get it, I'm not ready for a B-Rank suicide mission. Doesn't make it any less annoying, though. I could really use a shortcut to close this power gap.
Shaking my head, I focus inward. "Okay, Odin. Forget the graveyard for now. Pull up my Status Screen. Let's see exactly how pathetic my current stats are."
A translucent window materializes before my eyes, the blue glow reflecting off the polished floor.
(A/N:I won't be bringing up the status screen everytime)
I stare at the floating blue interface, the letters burning into my retinas. D-Rank. Mostly D-Rank. Even the strength and agility are marked with that annoying little minus sign. I flex my hand, feeling the familiar ache in my muscles from the earlier training. The magic part, the Infinite Eyes and all that space-time jazz, that's flashy. But looking at this, the raw stats scream one thing: I'm still a glass cup. If a physical beast gets ahold of me, it's over.
"Odin, run a simulation," I think, leaning back against the cool wall. "If I get hit by a standard C-Rank beast with these current defense stats, what's the survival probability?"
"Less than ten percent," Odin's voice replies instantly, no hesitation. "Without the Eye of Power active, your bone density and muscle reaction time are standard for a D-Rank human"
"Yeah, yeah, I get it," I mutter. "No pain, no gain. Looks like I'm going to need to start hitting the gym for real. No more slacking off."
I switch the hologram back to the Dungeon Rift information. Gravemind Reprise. The Warlock's notes say the dungeon resets every month. I check the date in the corner of the screen. Based on the cycle logs archived, the next respawn is in exactly two weeks.
"That's my window," I whisper, a spark of adrenaline igniting in my chest. "I need to hit at least peak C-Rank before then. Maybe even low B if I push it."
I pause, considering the alternative. Why not wait until I'm B-Rank? That's more safe right ? But the Shadow Cult is out there hunting artifacts. If they find this dungeon before I do, or if another awakener or even the heroic corps stumbles upon it, I lose my renewable source of power. The Archive said it's undiscovered, but that info is old. I can't trust a 150-year-old map completely.
A grin spreads across my face. The pressure is on, the stakes are high, and the path is dangerous.
"Damn," I chuckle, shaking my head. "This is actually kind of fun."
* * *
To be continued…