Chapter 98: Nine Swords

“Master Xu, so early tonight?” Zhang Qi asked with curiosity, watching Zhao Xu log off before ten o’clock.

For several days Zhao Xu’s online hours had been fairly regular, and tonight he had left even earlier than yesterday.

After Mage Lain drove Roa Squad out of the mine shaft, no one made a fuss. They set up camp nearby and waited there for the next day’s departure.

Zhao Xu had decided to log off early to look up some references.

“Qi, has anyone reached level two lately?” Zhao Xu asked, and at the same time he searched key terms on the forum.

Zhao Xu usually browsed the forum while he ate after logging off.
Zhang Qi, however, spent his whole day outside game time staring at the forum, roaming Arthur groups, and joining the business-like praise sessions in them.
So Zhao Xu could often get many firsthand tidbits from him that never appeared on the boards.

“There have been. Warriors are even approaching the threshold for level three, and yesterday a wanderer named Wuye seems to have been the first to promote to level two. But no caster class has reached level two yet; otherwise people would have sung him into heaven by now.”

“Everyone knows this now too. Even if you have enough experience to hit level two, you still have to burn through your skill points first and finish all your feats. That’s why the first wizard who graduated has gone back to the academy to train further. Among the remaining front-line mages, most of the top players still have their skills and feats unfinished—there are only one or two complete examples—yet they haven’t accumulated enough experience either.

“And I’ve heard some mage players can’t stand that kind of class training anymore and are planning to delete their accounts to protest TC.”

Zhang Qi understood Zhao Xu’s concern was the mage side, so he mostly talked about that.

Zhao Xu thought for a moment. These last few days he had been too busy with adventure content and memory spells; he hadn’t expected other players to be so far behind him. He had, without realizing it, ended up among the top tiers of Arthur players in the world.

Because Zhao Xu was a double-elite, every stat was calculated using the better of his two classes.
In his skill points, his class base used the six points of a cleric rather than the two of an ordinary wizard; with the level-one quadruple bonus, he effectively had sixteen more skill points than a wizard of equal intelligence.
He also carried two extra flaw feats, which meant from the start he had to work harder than other players just to level up.
Yet this sweet burden was one he wouldn’t mind taking on again.

Even with only two feats—Odd Foresight and Versatile Caster—he had escaped the player’s usual embarrassment of having to lock in all spells at dawn.
In terms of freedom, a wizard like Zhao Xu could almost rival, if not surpass, a sorcerer who casts on the fly.
Other wizards had to allocate limited spell slots between damage, control, and protection spells; at a crisis, they could only watch useless prepared spells sit idle as opportunities slipped away.
Only when a wizard levels up further and gains enough slots can he really break out of that stranglehold.

“Master Xu, everyone’s going crazy over this game lately,” Zhang Qi said, clicking his mouse. “So many of them are hooked—many go straight into it after class. That old Liu in the next room and his girlfriend now even do their dating there.”

“Si Nan has been going a little wild too, playing his paladin. Usually he comes back and quietly writes his homework the same day, but these days, you know what? he’s been copying the teachings of the Just God.”

Chen Si Nan was the most diligent student in their dorm, but his family wasn’t wealthy, so he had to finish early and get a job; Zhao Xu and Zhang Qi had neither of their minds on that, while only Liu Hanqiang, whose background was from a civil-service family, chose graduate study.

“Zhang Qi, what about you?” Zhao Xu asked. “What are your plans?”

“My plans? What plans can I have? If I can honestly get my diploma, my old man will burn incense in triumph.” Zhang Qi laughed heartily. Just getting into this 985 university had made that rich father of his boast for a long time. He had already mapped out Zhang Qi’s route to going abroad, but Zhang Qi blew through the gaokao and changed everything.

“I mean your route in the game,” Zhao Xu said seriously.

Zhang Qi still looked carefree, but in Zhao Xu’s memory he overlaid with a sturdier, sober warrior he once knew. “What else can I do? I’ll just take it step by step. A warrior gets one feat every two levels—pretty strong, I think.”

Hearing that, Zhao Xu was reminded how Zhang Qi had once used this as his reason for convincing him to choose warrior instead of Chen Si Nan’s suggestion of paladin.
Smiling wryly, Zhao Xu said, “Have you considered a side profession? Even an advanced one?”

Human multiclass penalties are lower than for other races, and Zhang Qi wouldn’t pay much cost for a secondary class anyway.

“Paladin and monk doctrines don’t fit me—I know I wouldn’t stand them. Barbarians are too simplistic, I can’t stand that. As for those caster options, I’m even worse with them.”

Zhang Qi had browsed forums for ages and had done some reading. “By the way,” he said with a hint of mystery, “have you heard of a new class system over in the Eastern Lands called the Nine Blades?”

That night, when Zhao Xu logged back in, everyone was already in early sleep, exhausted through body and mind.
But as he reached into his Howard utility bag for his sleeping bag, he suddenly felt an incoming link request in his mind:

[Mage Lain is requesting a Mind-Link communication.]

Zhao Xu looked around but saw no one.
He pulled his staff from his pack and accepted the communication at once.

“I didn’t expect you to be this cautious,” Lain’s voice came through. “Don’t worry, it’s just simple telepathic communication. It can’t harm you.”

Zhao Xu frowned. “Anything else?”

He always had the impression that when he ran into this mage, nothing good followed.

“It isn’t exactly anything urgent, just some loose ends. You and I talked about too many secrets, and I forgot to break the curse on your teammate Fengye.”

Only then Zhao Xu realized he had forgotten to ask Lain to cast the removal.

“Did you remove it?” he asked.

“Of course.”

“Can wizards cast at beyond-line-of-sight distances now?” Zhao recalled some spells that could cast far, but at least required seeing the target.

“There are long-range spells, but Remove Curse is a touch spell. I was just made invisible.”

“Then we’re done. Can I sleep now?”

“You’re really rude,” Lain said with a teasing edge. “I came in goodwill, and now you should probably persuade that warrior, Fengye, to what you people on Earth call ‘delete the character,’ just in case.”

“You mean he’s in danger?” Zhao’s expression darkened.

“I didn’t say that; you did.”

For now Fengye was fine, only one year from now players would lose the mental protection of divine power.
The thought made Zhao’s brow tighten.
After Yoyo spoke the name Dimogargen, she became protected by clerical blessing; even after a year, they still wouldn’t easily catch her.

“Then why does cursed Fengye seem to have attracted some kind of attention?”

“You must have more to do, Great Mage Lain,” Zhao said carefully.

“Clever. It’s mainly one thing I still haven’t pinned down, and I won’t sleep well tonight.”

“What is it?” Zhao asked, surprised.

“Why did you have the nerve to challenge me back then?”

Zhao could only laugh. So that was it.

“I had a god-prayer candle with me.”

“I’ve never even touched one of those!” Lain snapped.

“I knew it,” Zhao said. “You people of the Great Scrolls are all loyal to your own kind.”

“Back then all I did was protest against the princess treatment given to Antonia, and the guild expelled me and sent me out to patrol the grounds!”
Lain’s voice came through bitterly, but Zhao had already broken the link and crawled into his sleeping bag.