PftA Book 5 - Chapter 41 - Practice Run

I appeared in a small ritual room and was quickly greeted by a priestess named Helen. She eagerly showed me around, explaining several basic things about the situation in which I found myself.

I was considered a ‘traveler’, not an ascender. I had also arrived in a small temple instead of one of the many ascender dungeons spread throughout the realm where a ‘real’ ascender would have appeared.

That was fine. It was probably the dungeon’s way of making the logic work out, though it did raise a question about whether there were actual travelers in the upper realm.

Was it possible to get isekai’d between realms? If so, did it only happen within the same strati, or was it possible to be sent from an upper realm back to a lower realm (or vice versa)?

It was something I’d have to try to remember to ask the dungeon about when I completed my time in the simulation.

I was given temporary lodging and access to what amounted to an online library after being registered with the Delver’s Association. The Association was basically Dia’s version of the Adventurers’ Guild. However, instead of being run by an independent group, the Delver’s Association was sponsored by the church of Dia and literally co-located with the local temple.

The access point for the dungeon was also within the multi-purpose complex, which seemed a little strange until I realized that the city had literally been built around the dungeon.

With just a few light inquiries, I soon learned that Dia was a very active participant in the realm. The goddess essentially controlled the system and would often generate quests to influence certain aspects of society.

I was a little worried to hear that it was possible to get a goddess-generated target placed on one’s back if they angered the goddess too much, but the priestess was quick to clarify that such things only happened when someone committed egregious offenses – like targeting a bunch of Tier Ones when they were significantly stronger.

Apparently, Dia didn’t care for the thought of having a bunch of murdering assholes ascending into quasi-godhood since they tended to find themselves joining the demonic faction and making it stronger.

The same applied to tyrants who crossed certain lines, though the priestess admitted there were plenty of tyrants out there who hadn’t been made the target of a quest for elimination. I could only assume that those had little to no hope of ever ascending, else it didn’t make sense for the deity not to target them.

“How soon can I enter the dungeon?” I asked the priestess after she showed me how to use the virtual library.

Priestess Helen laughed. “I’ve heard that travelers are a lot like ascenders, but I hadn’t realized how true that might be. Since you only have two skills, it might be better to train at the Association until you pick up a defensive skill and a combat skill or two. You could also purchase skills through the Association if you want, after you earn enough funds.”

I’d only admitted to having a healing skill and a stealth skill, though Corrogo had granted me my choice of three skills – one from each affinity – plus an inventory capable of holding things in stasis.

He’d explained that it was likely my demesne would be downgraded to its most basic function, but allowed me to keep the stasis aspect since he claimed my service to the realm would likely buy me a bit of flexibility with such things.

He was careful not to make any promises, which I understood. Still, his action gave me hope that I might be able to retain more than just the basic storage function of my personal dimension.

“In fact,” the priestess continued, “I recommend you offer your healing services here at the association. It would allow you to earn some money while also making connections. Most prefer to delve with a group, after all. And even with just the two skills, I’m sure you’ll find a group interested in including you.”

They’d made me prove my capability with the two skills I’d claimed since there was no other way to verify my claim. Unlike skills that were acquired in regular skill slots, core skills were protected from all but the most advanced inspection skills.

Since I’d already proven my ability to heal, I followed Priestess Helen’s suggestion and spent a bit of time working as a healer for delvers in need of my services. Association healers didn’t get paid that much since healing skills were fairly common, but it was enough to save up for a skill – or more realistically, the materials I needed to reclaim my Enchanting skill.

It was entirely possible to manually learn such skills, though Enchanting was one of the most difficult due to the types of subskills that were required. Without my existing experience, I would have had to study under a master for months or even years just to unlock the skill. Even then, it would have been barely functional.

There were also schools that taught such highly sought-after skills, though most were hard to get into without already having the skill in question.

Magic schools were also a thing, though it was impossible to learn a magic skill without already having another one. Acquiring skills through skillbooks was obviously an exception, but unless the skillbook was created via the sacrifice of someone’s skill levels, the skill would always be limited.

Most people still only ever gained access to magical skills through skillbooks. Those who got most or all of their magical skills from dungeon skillbooks were usually called Mages, while those who learned how to manipulate their existing magical skills beyond what the skill naturally allowed were called Magi, since they had greater control and flexibility when it came to using magic.

And unlike Neohim, where basically everyone was considered a mage, Dians only applied that term to those who primarily used magic instead of melee or mundane ranged attacks.

The term also didn’t apply to those who used magical weapons. It only applied to those who fought primarily with spell-type magic.

At first, I wondered why anyone would bother with dungeon-sourced skillbooks when those obtained from sacrificed skill levels seemed so superior. However, once I learned that sacrificing a skill level to create such skillbooks caused severe soul damage, I rapidly changed my tune.

In fact, I was surprised anyone would willingly do such a thing. However, I was soon reminded that some people would do just about anything for the right amount of money.

= = =

I spent just under five years in the starter city before moving on. During that time, I’d regained my Enchanting skill and started working as the Assistant Enchanter for the Association’s local branch.

I’d mentioned my experience as an Enchanter during one of our conversations, so Priestess Helen wasn’t surprised when she discovered that I had unlocked the skill on my own.

The feat had garnered me a bit of attention since there were very few Enchanters in the small city, but it was nothing like what I was used to as a Trinity Mage. In fact, I was quite enjoying the relative anonymity of being just a normal person.

Because semi-permanent portals were exceedingly rare due to the material requirements in the higher realm, I took a flying ship to the closest city with an Ascender Dungeon.

Ascender Dungeons – named such because they were where ascenders arrived and often rewarded delvers with variations of ascenders’ former skills – were the only locations that allowed one to level beyond Tier Three.

Well, that wasn’t totally true since it was possible to absorb a lot of lower-tier essence cores and slowly gain levels, but most people just moved on to an Ascender Dungeon if they wanted to progress further than level 300.

Though I was still firmly within Tier Three when I relocated, I’d decided to make the move a little early since there was a part-time Enchanter position at the local Association branch.

In truth, I spent less of my time enchanting than I probably would have if everything were real. But the fact that it was a simulation, and I knew it was a simulation, meant that I didn’t feel the same pressure to push myself.

My Enchanting skill was growing well enough even without spending a lot of time on it, so I didn’t feel bad about exploring a bit and learning about the realm beyond what I’d discover by grinding levels.

The fifty subjective years ended up being a much-needed break, and I spent most of it simply existing as part of the community.

About halfway through my allotted time, I’d picked up a pet gliding cat, which ended up being my favorite thing that I encountered in the entire simulation. It wasn’t actually called a gliding cat, but that was basically what she was.

Coco was a dark brown creature that fell somewhere between a perpetual kitten and a sugar glider. She had the look of a long-haired fluffball of a kitten with little hand-like paws tipped with needle-sharp claws. Coco’s ears were more bat-shaped than cat-shaped, but otherwise, her little head looked just like a kitten’s.

Her entire body – minus the tail – could easily fit within my palm.

It really was love at first sight. Before I even brought her home, I had already decided to get a real gliding cat when I eventually ascended.

“Come on, Coco,” I said as I headed to the door a few days before the end of my time in the simulation.

It was easy to keep up with how much time was left because the dungeon provided a handy countdown that ensured I never truly forgot that I was living in a simulation.

My adorable pet leapt from atop her perch on the opposite side of the room and glided into my hand. She was able to use small bursts of air to propel herself and adjust her trajectory, so landing in my hand wasn’t much of a feat.

Pets were common in Dia, I’d learned. Conversely, feral dungeon beasts were exceedingly rare since only undiscovered dungeons ever broke, and those were typically found right away.

Escaped beasts lost most of their excessive aggression within a few generations, so there wasn’t much risk there unless those who’d decided to stay Tier One and didn’t possess a combat skill wandered into their territory.

Even dungeon offspring almost never grew beyond Tier Two without someone purposefully feeding them essence cores or bonding with them and taking them into dungeons. Since beasts that died outside of a dungeon didn’t produce essence cores, there was only so much a natural beast would grow.

I walked through the marketplace just outside the Association compound with Coco on my shoulder. The people of the city barely reacted to her presence, and those who did acknowledge her tended to gush over how adorable my tiny companion was.

Even with the countdown in the corner of my vision, it was easy to forget that none of the people that I interacted with were real. The realization that they were, in fact, non-player characters controlled by whatever passed as artificial intelligence within the dungeon and not real people was something I often tried to ignore.

Everyone seemed so alive – even more so than Lisa, which held implications that I simply didn’t want to address. I would have to, eventually, but that was something for future me to deal with.