Chapter Nine: The Dual Elite Path

The number of logins Arthur saw today was not yet the game’s peak period. The true surge would come half a year later, when the game's popularity soared—several times, players’ new achievements within the game even made it to the trending topics in society. At this stage, though there were character cards and various game data available for review, players were unable to access any remote chat tools within the game, nor could they use any online search engines; all such functions were strictly blocked. So, when confronted with particular questions, everyone had to rely either on themselves or on the system’s knowledge and skills to search for answers. If someone insisted on logging out to look up information, the waiting time alone—not to mention the twenty-minute cooldown between logging out and back in—would be enough to deter most people.

Despite this, some guilds, unwilling to pay for expensive communication spells, still relied on the primitive method of logging out to communicate and then logging back in to reply. Many players, upon first entering the game, were utterly confused. Some never bothered to ask for directions and wandered for days without finding the designated training site. Zhao Xu was likely the very first among all players to grasp the meaning of the markings on the parchment map and understand how to navigate.

As his initial choice, Zhao Xu decided to visit the Arcane Gate—the headquarters of the Mage Association. There was more than one Mage Association in Arthur. However, the one located in Mystra, the magical capital, was by far the largest, with the greatest number of mages; its branches were scattered throughout cities across the continent. Other mage organizations could not compare, their influence barely a tenth of Mystra’s; even the association of Red Robe Mages could only thrive in a single nation. Only the Mage Association at the Arcane Gate needed no prefix—“Mage Association” was synonymous with Mystra’s.

After Zhao Xu submitted his documents at the Arcane Gate’s reception hall, the apprentices in charge used a simple spell to identify the key in his letter of recommendation and quickly confirmed its authenticity. In this era, those bold enough to attempt forging documents to deceive the Mage Association headquarters did exist, but the fastest, most cunning among the current player base had not yet mastered such skills—and certainly not enough to fool the association with their low-level abilities.

For Arthur’s natives, players were not inexplicably dropped from the sky, nor were all NPCs brainwashed to believe they were native to Arthur. In fact, players later discovered that the world operated on entirely self-consistent logic. The natives had already learned, thanks to years of temple propaganda, that players were projections from another world—Earth. The concept of “other worlds” was not foreign to Arthur’s natives or to adventurers in general; in fact, the gods themselves resided in such planes. Mages frequently summoned extraplanar creatures to project them onto Arthur’s main plane for combat. Because players could log in and out and were blessed with five resurrection stones, they were regarded as another form of projection—albeit one immune to anti-magic fields and dispelling.

Zhao Xu had even heard that elite mages, when adventuring, rarely went in person; instead, they would send a projection with their exact strength. A year after the crossing, all Earthlings would truly become Arthur’s natives—no longer projections, but real people.

Zhao Xu waited in the hall for less than fifteen minutes before a black-robed mage appeared to escort him inside the Arcane Gate. He cautioned Zhao Xu not to wander, lest he trigger a trap and lose a resurrection, and otherwise remained silent throughout. All those passing through the Arcane Gate were similarly quiet, rushing to and fro. Within ten minutes, the mage led Zhao Xu into a vast chamber.

Pointing to the glowing portal ahead, he said, “This door is reserved for mage apprentices. Don’t overthink it—go straight through.”

“A teleportation portal?” Zhao Xu marveled at the three-meter-high gate. He hadn’t expected that their training site wasn’t even on Mystra’s surface, but required passage through this portal. Aside from its size limit and single destination, there was nothing but praise for such portals. In just one round (six seconds), a player could reach the designated location, needing neither assistance nor spell activation. Instant arrival at the destination—a portal priced at one hundred thousand gold coins—was the stuff of adventurers’ dreams.

The wilds were simply too hazardous. Players could, if out of combat for five minutes, log out safely and avoid sleeping outdoors. However, most early players’ resurrection stones were consumed by unexpected situations in the wild. Even Arthur’s natives, unless necessary, would not recklessly leave the safety of towns.

“You’ve seen one before?” The black-robed mage finally looked up, glancing at Zhao Xu. Under his cloak, his face was shadowed and elusive.

At last, Zhao Xu realized that this was no mere novice guarding the main entrance—a rookie at most one or two levels. Most mages here knew well that players were “adventurers from Earth.” Logically, new players were limited in their knowledge of Arthur. But Zhao Xu knew his best move was not to explain, but to continue asking.

“This portal leads upward?” He pointed, indicating the ceiling above, though its meaning was clear.

“Quick on the uptake.” The black-robed mage regarded Zhao Xu with a deep gaze. Yet Zhao Xu noticed his attention was fixed on the two badges pinned to his chest.

“How interesting. No wonder they told me to bring you here,” the mage said, leaving Zhao Xu puzzled.

“What do you mean?” Zhao Xu’s keen senses told him he might have just uncovered something pivotal.

Arthur’s natives were living, breathing people; there was no such thing as only speaking to someone when a quest was triggered. Generally, high-level mages were aloof, unwilling to waste time on novices. Even in the most prestigious mage academy, that remained true.

The mage’s somewhat cloudy eyes met Zhao Xu’s. Zhao Xu felt as though he was gazing into the eyes of an aged sage, though the skin beneath the robe was anything but old. Still, Zhao Xu respectfully lowered his head. Unlike other players who entered with reckless bravado—who could always delete their character or stop playing if things went wrong—every Earthling had to make a living in Arthur. Arrogance was the path to ruin.

“If I were you, I’d put away your cleric badge. It’ll spare you some attention,” the mage suggested cryptically.

“How so? Isn’t it permitted for players to participate in dual profession training?” Zhao Xu asked quickly. Though most players didn’t know this yet, he did, and he was certain. Some, like him, were awarded multiple badges when only a few profession statues remained, allowing them to join multiple trainings. Others had to choose which badge and association to pursue. But as a dual elite, he could have both.

The black-robed mage, like Zhao Xu, did not answer directly but murmured, “Just ten minutes ago, a female player also had two badges. She was sent to the portal in the adjacent chamber.”

A year after Arthur became reality—when Zhao Xu’s character sheet’s sixteen Intelligence had yet to take effect—he still had to rely on his native intellect to parse the mage’s words.

Now fully composed, Zhao Xu considered whether there was a hidden quest or secret mechanism here. The words implied that he, like the female player, should head to the neighboring portal. Was it necessary to have two portals for mage training? The Mage Association wasn’t so frivolous as to build two portals in adjoining halls leading to the same destination. They must lead elsewhere.

In other cities, perhaps a portal would be added to send top students to Mystra. But the Arcane Gate was already the premier mage academy, with legendary mentors. If there was anything more prestigious, would it be proximity to the goddess herself? Cleric training took place in the neighboring temple, so there was no need for such arrangements.

Suddenly, Zhao Xu realized that his attempt to show off—bringing both badges to display his uniqueness and attract investment from the Arcane Gate—had indeed produced an unexpected effect. Perhaps even without wearing them, the moment he entered the association’s headquarters, the outcome was set.

But what did this have to do with two portals? Suddenly, the answer struck Zhao Xu: Hidden base profession! Those bearing two badges could qualify for a hidden profession beyond mage and cleric! But which portal—this one or the next—led to the hidden base profession?

He was about to ask for confirmation when he caught the mage’s look and paused. The answer was self-evident. If it were a hidden profession, it wouldn’t be revealed before reaching the portal. The adjacent portal was the one leading to the hidden profession.

Now the question arose—why, with two badges, did the other go to the hidden profession while he was sent down the mage’s path?

“So you’ve figured it out?” the mage asked.

No matter how revered, the mage profession was still a foundational one on the continent.

“Think for yourself—what’s special about you?”

Zhao Xu lowered his head, pondering his uniqueness. Sixteen Intelligence was high, but others had seventeen or eighteen. Dual—dual elite!

Suddenly it dawned on him, though logically the mage shouldn’t be able to discern this. Players were immune to mind-reading and control spells for a year.

The mage looked up, gazing into the distance as if seeing through the portal itself. “Rest assured, you adventurers from Earth are immune to many special effects. Let me leave you with this: for mages, wisdom and knowledge are abilities just as important as spell slots.”

Zhao Xu understood—if NPCs could read players’ minds or worse, chaos would ensue. Such immunity was the gods’ protection for players, effective for a year. It was a safeguard for Zhao Xu; otherwise, his crossing would be written on his face in front of legendary figures.

So the mage’s insight came from wisdom and observation? Zhao Xu nearly slapped his forehead—he’d forgotten about his “Insight” skill. His expressions were too transparent; he’d need to level up his “Disguise” skill to better resist such scrutiny.

Having understood, Zhao Xu nodded and moved toward the portal. Just before stepping through, he paused to ask, “After completing mage apprentice training, do I proceed to the neighboring portal?”

He didn’t mention being a dual elite, but trusted the mage would understand—not assuming he’d switch to the hidden profession at level two.

“No.”

“Your mage path will continue onward. Your other path is to become a level-one cleric first, then a Scriptorium Scholar.”

Profession line one: Level-two mage.

Profession line two: Level-one cleric / level-one Scriptorium Scholar.

Zhao Xu’s mind flooded with the route described, and he caught the name of the hidden base profession. He spun around and asked, “Why?”

“It is the will of the goddess.”