[Level 5 Catacombs, Skull Sect Temple]
The month that followed was a study in controlled patience. Greem knew a swift return to Lunia would raise Elizabeth's suspicions, while a prolonged absence would worry his family. The Skull Temple, for all its grim atmosphere, became his unlikely sanctuary—a forge where he could temper his body and magic freely.
The Catacombs was full of magical beasts, especially in the unexplored and vast Level 5. Slimes, dire wolves and velvet spiders were common. Though their flesh was disgusting in terms of taste, the benefits to the physique of those who consume it was evident.
His days fell into a strict rhythm. Mornings were for the [Breath of the Dusk Hound], practiced in the solitude of his assigned cell. After a week, Willem stopped speaking. For the sake of his cover, they were extracting information from him on a daily basis.
Greem came to learn a lot about Willem's background, secrets he was spilling despite not saying a word after four years of partnerships. His clan's locations, its strength...Greem was surprised, for the Pourshield clan, Willem's vampire household, possessed an intermediate-rank patriarch, deeply at odds with dark elves in the forest.
Despite this, most of the vampires lacked magical talent, and suffered from basic sunlight. He was part of the elites, but he was an outcast as he did not take part in the conflict between his clan and the dark elves, preaching peace and even going so far as to save Iriana, which caused a rift between him and the family.
On the other hand, Willem's past did not interest Greem much. The information was nice to hear, in this boring setup. But that was the end of it. That being said, the breathing technique now felt as natural as his own heartbeat, the rhythmic cycles further stabilizing the wyvern's blood within him and steadily refining his body.
Afternoons were for the library, where he continued his silent, rapid assimilation of shadow lore, his [Shadow Elemental Knowledge] climbing steadily.
But it was the evenings that yielded the most unexpected dividends.
His display of quiet authority and the faint, intimidating aura he carried had drawn the attention of the temple's more ambitious—and neglected—lower ranks. Three acolytes, in particular, began to seek him out and eventually entered his mentorship.
The first was Gael, the youth who had first guided him out of his cell. Sharp-eyed and fiercely ambitious, he had a natural, if untutored, affinity for shadow. He was tired of low-rank missions and looked up to Greem and his boundless magical knowledge, far superior to any of the higher-ups in the organisation.
The second was Roric, a hulking, silent boy with hands like stone mallets. He walked the path of body refinement, but had only been taught brute strength exercises, his potential languishing without proper guidance. However, he was already a knight, inferior to Vanessa in all aspects, but growing still.
The third was Anna, a young woman with a feral intensity. She possessed an innate talent for beast-speaking, but the Skull Sect's methods were crudet. Her only companion was a scrawny, intelligent-eyed cave wolf she'd named Ash.
They came to him hesitantly at first, under the pretense of asking about "surface world" techniques. Greem saw not nuisances, but opportunities. Disciples were a source of influence, and teaching them, he discovered, generated a slow but steady trickle of EXP for himself as he guided their progress.
Besides, as he would be away for long periods of time, he needed loyal followers.
He became their master.
"Again" Greem commanded, his voice echoing in the secluded training grounds, a privilege he had earned after giving a patch of [Grave Moss] to Oriana, the Lv. 5 librarian, another friend he had made in the temple.
His first student, Roric, charged. The hulking boy was a body refinement acolyte, his [Strength] and [Vitality] his greatest assets. He swung a heavy, blunted practice sword in a wide, powerful arc meant to crush bones.
[Roric - Lv. 3Acolyte]
[Strength - 5 | Agility - 2 | Vitality - 5 | Magical Power - 3]
Greem didn't retreat. He met the blow with his own sword, not with brute force, but with perfect positioning. He deflected the force to the side, using Roric's own momentum to unbalance him. As the larger boy stumbled past, Greem tapped his kidney with the flat of his blade.
"You leave your flank open. Power is useless if it doesn't connect"
[Swordsmanship proficiency increased to 43]
Roric grunted, nodding as he regained his footing. The lesson was brutal but effective. He activated his spell [Lightning Eyes], providing him with enhanced perception, but with Greem who possessed a magical artefact, the increased sharpness in skills did little to alleviate the disparity in swordsmanship.
The second student, Anya, didn't attack directly. She and her cave wolf, Ash, moved as one. Anya feinted low with her dagger while Ash lunged from the shadows at Greem's blind spot. It was a clever pincer attack using Roric's swordsmanship contest as a distraction
[Anya - Lv. 3 Acolyte]
[Ash - Cave Wolf - Lv. 3 Magical Beast]
Greem's [Perception], heightened by his pendant, caught the wolf's movement. He dropped into a low sweep, forcing Ash to leap back, then immediately rose to parry Anya's real dagger thrust.
"Decent...It could have worked against my teammate, but you rely too much on your contracted beast. You should put more effort in learning the Fireball spell you bought, instead of bonding so much with your contracted beast. Your relationship should be of dominance and fear, not friendship", Greem shook his head in disappointment.
Finally, it was Gael's turn.
The pockmarked youth stood his ground, hands weaving. A [Shadow Arrow] shot toward Greem, followed immediately by a shaky but determined [Shadow Hand] erupting from the ground at his feet. Both spells were decent, lacking proficiency but still, these were two distinct spells. Greem's shadow cloak easily blocked them both, the difference in sheer magical power too big to be dismissed.
[Gael - Lv. 4 Acolyte - Shadow Path]
Greem didn't use a spell.
"Two spells in quick succession is excellent. But your focus is split. Make the hand smaller, denser. It will last longer and hit harder"
[Shadow Elemental Knowledge proficiency increased to 81.]
[Mentorship EXP Gained: 15 EXP...]
[Intermediate rank EXP threshold already met...Hidden condition preventing breathrough...]
[Greem Southport - Lv. 7 Beginner Rank Acolyte (664→ 1060 / 800 EXP)
Strength - 5 → 6 | Agility - 4 | Vitality - 5 | MagicPower - 7
Perks: Grade IV Shadow Elemental Affinity, Shadow Wyvern Bloodline
Spells: Dark Illusion (81) → (86), Shadow Hand (65) → (70), Ombre Curse (30) → (36), Shadow Cloak (3) → (22), Shadow Arrow (10) [New]
Skills: Shadow Elemental Knowledge (65) → (81), Magical Knowledge (50) → (60), Swordsmanship (33) → (43), Crossbow Mastery (12)
Miscellaneous skills: Accounting (61), Eloquence (36) → (40), Charm (25) → (35)
Magical Artefact: Soul Ring [SSS], Thread of Fate Pendant (+1 Perception) [Low-grade Rank 0]]
Greem sighed. He had long since reached the requirement to become an intermediate rank acolyte. He had initially thought it would be sufficient to break through, but a wall was blocking him...But this wall was getting smaller on a daily basis. His bloodline was battling inwardly, crushing it brick by brick. Regular acolyte would need a regent. A potion of some sort, a ritual to do so. However, as a bloodline path acolyte, Greem could afford to just wait and break through naturally, not having to go through the side effects of the other dubious methods.
As Gael nodded, absorbing the critique, a dry, slow clapping echoed from the cavern entrance. An old man stood there, leaning on a staff of yellowed bone. His robes were finer than the others', and his eyes, sharp and calculating, scanned the scene.
[Elder Borin - Lv. 6 Acolyte - Skull Sect Elder]
"Remarkable", Borin rasped, his gaze lingering on Gael, "This one... he was barely able to light a candle with his shadows a month ago. Now he wields two combat spells."
His eyes shifted to Greem, a glint of genuine approval within them.
"Malakor's gamble appears to be paying off. You have a gift, boy. Not just for power. You already have three loyal followers and many praise your presence among us in the temple. You have charisma"
He stepped forward and handed Greem a rolled parchment sealed with black wax. "Your convalescence is, however, over. It is time you made yourself useful back in that city of yours. Malakor has a task for you"
Greem broke the seal and read. The parchment detailed a list of specific alchemical ingredients, enchanted tools, and communication crystals—things the isolated sect desperately lacked.
"The Dark Market opens in Lunia's docks in three nights," Borin explained. "You will sell these," he gestured to a small chest one of his attendants carried, filled with magical beast cores, and use the proceeds to acquire everything on that list. Smuggle it all back here. Our... resource situation is more precarious than we let on. We have raw materials, but need artisans to turn them into strength"
'It's already that time, huh?', Greem realised
A month had passed. He had a legitimate reason to return. He had grown stronger, forged alliances, and now he had a mission that played perfectly into his cover.
[Mission (Optional) - Smuggler of the Skull Sect
The Skull sect elder Borin has given you a mission to smuggle a list of 32 items back into the temple.
Rewards - Whatever profit you make on the trade, 200 EXP, Reputation in the Skull Sect, Reputation in the Black Widow Association]
"Understood, Elder", Greem said, rolling the parchment back up. The path back to Lunia was open, but he was returning as a very different person than the one who had left.
"How should I handle Willem?", Greem spoke
Borin smiled: "We fed him and his beast a sleeping potion. By now, he should already be in a deep slumber. Use this window to escape the temple, and return with the goods. You have one month. Of course, you can keep the profits for yourself. The sect is generous with its followers"
Greem smiled: "Flawless plan"
Gael, Roric and Anya escorted him out, leaving behind the buildings of bones and mud.