Chapter 16: Chapter Sixteen: A [Hero] Trains.

ew Asgard, a massive city located on the North-Western side of the continent. The city, built upon a tier 7 dungeon, is controlled by the church of Odin, the most powerful force within the Aesir lands.

At the center of the city is a massive palace, the location in which the [Grand Chancellor] of Odin resides. And to those in the know, it is also the location where the heroes were summoned.

After washing and cleaning himself, Franky finds himself leaving the palace, stopping momentarily to admire the intricate marble statues of Odin, the leader of the Aesir gods. His form, depicted in a robe, is sitting upon a throne while several crows perch upon his shoulders. His left eye gazes forward while his right is replaced by a clear white jewel, signifying his ability to see everything.

Frowning, Franky removes his gaze from the statue, heading outside the palace, giving a smile and a nod towards the two [guards] standing ready at the gates.

The [guards], noticing the [Hero], immediately salute, their hands going to their chest, making a clunking sound.

Franky shakes his head.

“No need for the formalities guys, I would rather you treat me as you would a fellow guard.”

The [Guards] do not answer, merely keeping their heads low and fist to chest, watching silently as the [Hero] passes them by.

Rolling his eyes, Franky Increases his pace, traveling further away from the massive palace, entering the [Nobles] quarters.

The nobles quarters, a place with clean roads, flowers everywhere, expensive carriages, and of course, the nobility, who merely give Franky a confused look as they watch him jog down the street, unknowing who the young man actually is.

The chancellor had ordered information about the [Hero’s] to be kept hidden, only allowing the public to know that they had indeed been summoned.

Regardless, Franky ignores the looks he is getting, especially considering he is dressed in a [inquisitor's] robe… that has been turned inside out.

Several minutes pass by as Franky enters the trader's bazaar, an area bustling with people of various kinds. [Traders] yelling out their prices from stalls twinkling with every kind of goods imaginable. Weapons, armors, clothing, magical trinkets, food.

The last one had almost made him stop. The smell of roast meat, fresh bread, and various herbs was a rather enticing smell. The aromas seem to bend and weave, doing their best to attract his attention.

But Franky is not one for distractions, so he continues his jogging pace, weaving around people with ease as he finally finds himself in front of a massive building several stories high.

Franky stops, looking at the massive red-trimmed sign upon the building.

Entering through the sturdy double doors, immediately getting a whiff of alcohol and food, all accompanied by the chatter of various groups of divers, sitting and chatting while drinking and eating, planning their next dive or celebrating a successful one.

Divers… they are groups of people who make their living diving into dungeons, gathering rare materials and returning alive.

Dungeons which will do whatever it is in their power to make sure the ‘returning alive’ aspect of their jobs does not happen.

“Franky!” a big man sporting a huge battle ax on his back yells out, waving a mug in the air.

Smiling back at the big guy, Franky diverts his path, traveling to the table seating four.

“Brock, last I saw you, you were heading into the dungeon. I presume everything went remarkably well.”

Brock, a shit-eating grin on his face, points at an object one of his teammates is holding fondly.

The teammate, a young elf [Mage], a rarity to be found in human lands as he was told, is caressing a seemingly boring looking staff with a jewel on the top of it.

Lacking any skill to identify items, Franky looks back towards Brock,” so what does it do?”

Brock opens his mouth, only to frown as he turns towards his other teammate, a rather young petite looking girl who seems to be glaring daggers at him.

“ Jessa, can you please stop kicking me. It's very unladylike.”

Jessa continues to glare.

“Stop giving out secrets you oaf. We paid good money for a [Enchanter] to look into the staff.”

Brock stops, frowning, his hand slightly moves, then he looks back towards Franky.

“It creates ice traps.”

*DING*

Immediately Jessa jumps out of her seat, holding her foot with one hand while hopping on her other foot.

“Fucking... stupid... shield,” she exclaims.

Looking down, Franky notices Brocks shield having been placed in front of his shins, protecting him.

“Oy, Siberia, heal my foot, I think I might have broken my toe,” Jessa says, quickly removing her boot and pointing her naked injured foot towards the elf while balancing on one leg, a rather easy feat for a [Rogue].

Siberia ignores the [Rogue], continuing to caress the staff as one would a child.

“SIBERIA!” Jessa yells, hopping closer, her foot mere inches now from the elf’s face.

The elf turns her head, finding Jessa’s foot an inch from her nose, the smell making her nose crinkle.

The foot in question wiggles its toes.

“Heal?”

An annoyed look crosses Siberia’s face as she lifts her hand, slapping the offending appendage away, eliciting a squeal of pain and another onset of hopping from Jessa.

Smiling and shaking his head, Franky looks at the last person of Brock’s group, a short man with a huge round belly and an instrument which looks like a guitar at his side. The man in question is a dwarven [Bard], who is currently sleeping in his chair, head back while drool can be seen falling out of his mouth.

“So Brock, I’m guessing you're going to let Siberia keep the staff?”

Brock nods,” Yup, it's a good staff, and the ability it grants makes it much easier for me to do my job, especially considering my new skill.”

“Oh, you leveled up?”

“Yup, take a guess on my level,” he says, a huge happy smile on his face.

“[Analyze]” Franky calls out, eliciting a pout from Brock.

“You know, people take offense when you use skills without permission on them.”

“Aha, luckily you're not most people,” Franky says, enjoying the banter with this group.

Franky had met the Emerald Shields when he first entered the Divers Guild. He was looking for information, preferably information that isn't bastardized by the [priests], but quickly found himself being flirted on by Jessa.

She was curious about Franky and why he was wearing an inquisitor's cloak, something that would be punishable by death if found you even owned it, much less wearing it.

Luckily, Brock came in and saved the day by literally picking Jessa up and placing her on his shoulder, ignoring her squeals of outrage.

“So, I’m guessing you're heading out to see grandma?” Brock asks, pointing towards a staircase going downward.

Yup, Matilda, the [Witch], is actually Brocks Grandmother whom he had introduced Franky to.

“I am. Hopefully, she will be ready for me.”

*Smack*

At a moments notice, a foot lands upon brocks cheek, its toes wiggling.

“I need a potion,” Jessa announces.

Chuckling, Franky shakes his head, enjoying the annoyed confused expression on Brocks' face.

“Well, it seems you're a bit busy Brock, so I’m going to head down for training.”

Brock merely nods, his eyes staring at Jessa who is looking at him expectantly.

_______

Leaving the group with a smile on his face, Franky moves towards the stairs, taking relaxed easy steps down towards the basement and the location of several trainers for hire.

Entering the basement, a long passage greets him, lit with magical lights on the ceiling, eliminating the lack of light which would be present otherwise. At the right and lefts of the passage are doors, each door leading to a trainer, all of which are older retired divers who train the next generation.

Traveling several meters in, Franky stops at a black armored door, knocking lightly on the hard enchanted wood.

A moment later and Franky hears the sound of shuffling as the door slowly opens, revealing an old lady with an annoyed look on her face.

The annoyed look takes a complete one-eighty, replaced by an energetic smile instead.

“Franky! It’s so nice to see you again. Have you come back for training?”

______

I nod slowly. Staring at her wrinkly face, the face of someone who has lived quite a long life.

“Oh! Right. Please come in.” she says, moving out of the way, allowing me to enter her not at all humble abode.

Her classroom, if it is to be believed as such, is covered in papers, dust, unorganized furniture and various contraptions I had never seen before. Overall, it looks like the room had been through a tornado.

“Matilda, you really should clean this place up a bit.” I say, watching an actual rat shuffle out of a pile of papers, notice me, and then run back into the massive pile.

“That's Jeffrey, he’s harmless.”

Shaking my head, I turn to one of the cleaner seats on the far side of the room.

I sit down on the chair, watching as Matilda sits down across me, a black robe stained with… possibly blood, but it could really be anything considering the nature of her class, covers her rather skinny visage.

She puts up her hand, not allowing me to speak.

“First, let us blind your little stalkers.”

She claps her hands.”[Zone of Disturbance]”

The walls start to glow, runes hidden within the stone depths come to light, glowing immaculate colors of various designs. The mana forms, blending around me as they form and converge, sending a sensation of pressure on my psyche.

And just as fast as it happens, the pressure subsides, the runes going dormant around me.

I blink, shaking my head, confused.

“What… Just happened?”

Matilda smiles in return,” Well, I created a zone which nullifies all scrying spells and spying abilities. As of right now, nobody is able to listen to our conversations.”

She leans forward,” So you can speak freely... [Hero].”

My eyes widen, and then immediately focus.

“What do you want?” I say, slightly panicking that she figured out my identity so quickly.

She smiles back,” Coin,”

I stop, looking at her relaxed expression.

“Hehehe, what? Did you expect this to be some convoluted plot for me to kidnap you and attempt to sell you off to some other country for a fortune which would allow me to live the rest of my life in luxury?”

She pauses, her eyes widening.

“Huh… now that I think about it, that would have been quite a great plan.”

I look at her, confused. But a smile slowly forms on my lips as I remember something Quasi had told me.

‘The most trustworthy people tend to be the weirdest. Always make friends with them. More often than not, they're not plotting your downfall. The worst they will ever do is drug you and take you to bed.’

I relax on my chair, watching as Matilda has her hand on her chin, her mind someplace else.

Heh, it's funny how Quasi's ramblings about his job as a hero has been helping me out tremendously this past week. He always says I have the qualities to be summoned.

I reach into my pocket, taking out a small bag of Danuri, the most common coin in the world of Orbis, and plant it on the table with a clank, immediately grabbing Matilda's attention.

Her eyes move to the bag.

“All yours after training.” I say.

She frowns.

“You know, the amount of coin you are paying me is significantly more than my rates. It's actually the main reason why I figured out who you are.”

You also seem to have a far more extensive spy network considering barely any [Nobles] even know how many heroes were even summoned.

I nod.

“As long as I continue to improve my [mage] class, I doubt they care how many coins I spend.”

Her hand moves up to her lips, looking down towards an entire month's worth of her wage.

She nods.

“That's fine.”

She gets up, moving towards a pile of… clothes, quickly rummaging through them, finding a rather old wooden staff with a jewel at the end underneath.

She quickly returns and hand’s it to me.

I take the staff, confused as my hand touches the worn down wood.

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“I was warned to learn magic without a staff, that it would be best to cast spells without a crutch.”

She rolls her eyes,” Are you talking about those [Archmages], a bunch of pricks they are, being born into a family of mages, learning magic at an extremely young age.”

She waves her hand.

“Those idiots know nothing of training someone of a low-level class. They probably expect you to have the [Mana Sense] skill already.”

She sighs, glowering,” They’re powerful, but that's it. Any Diver [Archmages] can outspell them even if they have over twenty levels more.”

I nod, acknowledging that as strong as these [Archmages] may be, they have an exceptionally crippling ego.

“But enough about them, Last time you were here, I had you learn to sense your Mana, forming complicated shapes. And you seem to have been a prodigy at it, already gaining seventeen levels.”

Indeed, the training, once you get the hang of it, was rather easy, giving me several levels.

“But I didn't get the [Mana Sense] skill, only the minor version.”

She smiles, showing her teeth.

“The skill manifests itself after you are able to do it subconsciously, which requires constant practice, same as learning spells…” she stops,” Did you gain any spells when you hit level ten?”

“Yes, I gained the spell [Flash Fire]”
She smiles, her eyes twinkling.

“Wrong, what you gained was the skill, not the spell. It's very different. A skill of a spell is the most efficient of that spell, allowing you to activate it using a fixed and extremely low Mana cost. The skill is extremely efficient, but is considered a crutch as it does not allow you to manipulate the spell.”

I frown, confused.

Matilda nods, noticing my lack of understanding.

“Here's an example, your [Flash Fire] skill is a basic fire attack that creates a fiery explosion from your palm. It's quick, efficient, and powerful. But someone who has the spell mastered could infuse more Mana, making the explosion wider, hotter, or even farther.”

My eyes widen,” so the skill itself is useless later?”

She smiles, looking down at her hand and removing a ring.

“Normally yes, but skills can be upgraded. If, say you learned the spell [Flash Fire], then your [Flash Fire] skill will upgrade to a more advanced and powerful variant.”

Huh...

She leans forward, placing a ring on the table and pushing it towards me.

Frowning, I pick it up, finding that the metal is rather plain.

“And this is…”

“A minor identification ring. Not that expensive, but it allows you to use a weak [Identify] spell to get a good understanding of magical items,” she crosses her arms,” I find it amazing that the Church didn't even give you any proper items. Regardless, the ring is yours, please use it on the staff.”

Taking the ring, I point it at the staff “Identify.”

The feeling of Mana can be felt moving through my body, converging towards my finger, entering the ring.

And nothing happens.

I frown.

“You have to make sure the ring is touching the item you are casting the spell on.” Matilda calls out of her chair, enjoying the view as a [Hero] struggles to use a rather simple magical item.

“You would think there would be some kind of instruction manual or something… whatever.”

I move the ring and allow it to touch the staff.

“[Identify]”

I don't understand.

“What's the point of this staff?”

This doesn't seem useful. I would run out of mana very quickly.

“The point is to help you get a better understanding of what better control feels like.”

She leans forward, extending her hand, her palm opening and a blue sphere of light forms above it. The sphere quickly morphs into different Geometric shapes like squares, triangles, octagons.

“The first part of becoming a proper mage is being able to properly control your mana.”

The Mana above her palm immediately changes, forming into complicated circles which are integrated into each other, interesting and complicated designs can be seen around the circle's edge.

“Then you can start attempting to learn spells.”

The mana on her palm starts to changes, circles melding into each other… and then a ball of red flame forms above it, heat quickly emanating from her palm.

And just as quickly, the ball of flame disappears, an exhausted look comes over her face as she lays back on the chair.

“Wow, been a while since I used that much mana.”

I give her a confused look.

Isn't she a level 90 something [Witch]?

“Making mana actually able to be seen requires a significant amount of mana concentration. It's not easy kid.”

She stretches her arm and cracks her neck rather loudly.

“Ohh, that one was pretty good.”

She points at the staff on the table.

“Anyways, I want you to use the staff to create a shape, any simple shape. The staff should make it easy. Then, after your attempt, practice doing it without the staff. Only when you master the shape without the staff are you allowed to use the staff again for another shape. Rinse and repeat.”

I nod, grabbing the staff, mentally ordering my mana into it.

_________

A [Hero] eh? I did not expect to get such an interesting student.

I watch as he sends his mana through the staff, a concentrated look on his face. He nods and places the staff on the table, his eyes closed as he attempts to recreate whatever shape he did.

Normally, this type of training is only done by elven children because elves naturally have a very large amount of both innate Mana and Mana regen. A normal human child would find it very difficult to even use the staff as the sheer mana requirement would cause them to pass out.

But [Heroes] are different, aren't they?

At first, I thought he was some kind of son of a rich [Lord] who was found lacking in the ability to use magic, so much so that the school would not accept him.

And I would have told the kid to go home and to find another class.

But my big oaf of a grandson had introduced him to me, so I felt it would be in my best benefit to at least attempt to teach him.

So I did.

I first explained to him about how to sense mana, and to my immediate surprise, he got the hang of it rather quickly.

Then I instructed him to move it around mentally. At which point I placed clear mana stones in both his arms and told him to make them light up at the same time.

He had instead given me a confused look and asked ‘how’.

At this point, I should have realized something was wrong considering his ignorance of something so simple. I explained to him that they lit up when near mana and that he would need to focus his mana into both hands at the same time.

After explaining, I left him and went to grab something to eat.

When I came back, he had both crystals glowing.

I was flabbergasted considering it takes the average student a week to learn to manipulate mana separately.

And he did it in less than an hour.

After that display, I started showing him better ways of control, of thought, of practice, quickly becoming mesmerized by his rather quick learning and surprisingly exceptionally large mana pool.

If I had not misplaced my staff of [Analyze], I would have immediately checked to see if the young man had gained any levels in the [Mage] class, for surely he had the class.

After several hours, he thanked me and left a bag on my table, telling me he will be back for more training.

Granted, since he was a good student and a friend of Brock’s, I would have waived the fee, but he left the bag, telling me I deserve it.

It was only when I opened the bag did I think something was extremely wrong. The bag contained an entire months pay… for an entire class of students.

After he left, I got in touch with several individuals I know, paid some coin, and found out that the person who I had been teaching was actually one of the summoned [Heroes].

“I did it!” Franky calls out, face covered in sweat, looking into the air, the location that his mana is probably at.

A month. It takes a month for the average student to even attempt to make even an outline of a shape, let alone a complete one.

Franky shakily grabs the staff, a smile on his face, similar to a child after he completes something difficult.

“Franky,” I call out.

He stops and turns his head to me.

“Avoid training when you have low mana. Low mana will muffle your head, making it difficult to learn.”

He frowns,” and what should I do in the meantime.”

Most people would be happy with a break, but not you.

“Release a bit of mana and circulate it through your body like I explained the last time you were here. This will help you call on your mana quickly and allow you to cast faster.”

He nods, closing his eyes and doing just that.

Seventeen levels in three days. [Heroes] truly are amazing.

I shake my head, my thoughts changing to the church and on what they will do once they find out they have lost sight of their [Hero].

______________

*BOOM*

A loud muffled sound shakes the classroom, forcing Franky to lose concentration of the geometric shape he is attempting to make.

The runes on the wall glow, protecting the stone from cracking.

“What was that!” he says, turning towards Matilda who complicated look on her face.

“I think our training session today has come to an end. It would be best for you to head home and come back on another day.”

Confused, Franky nods and stands up shakily, sitting for several hours had caused his legs to fall asleep.

Leaving the staff and coin behind, Franky walks to the door, unlatching the lock and opening to it.

“Oh, and Franky.”

I turn, looking at Matilda as she stands over a table with various items and papers scattered about,” Continue your mental exercises. A good foundation is key to using spells properly.”

He nods and closes the door behind, thoughts focusing on the loud sound that had emanated from above.

Walking towards the stairs, Franky mentally calls up his stats.

He had gained six levels in the mage class after only a couple hours of training, which had increased his mana reserves by… six.

Which, from what he understands, is normal. What isn't normal is that a mage around his level might have only a hundred mana at most and a mana regen of a significantly lower amount.

The only thing that upsets Franky is that he did not gain any skills when he hit level twenty in the class. He had been told that most people gain a skill every ten levels, but it doesn't happen always.

Sighing, Franky walks up the stairs, finding himself in the lobby, watching as every diver now huddles at the window, watching outside the guild building.

Confused, Franky moves towards a window that is seemingly open and is greeted with a rather amazing sight.

Several men with the church’s insignia stand before the building. Over twenty of them. A couple of them are in robes while the majority are in shining gold armor, signifying them as [Paladins], one of the most powerful classes the church has to offer, each requiring a level of at least one hundred to obtain.

Such a sight would normally cause awe and fear, making entire armies shake in their boots.

But instead, fear can be seen through the holes of the [paladin]s helmets as they take on a defensive posture, shields pointed towards an individual.

A woman with long flowing red hair, covered in leather armor with several enchanted items on her person and a beautifully crafted spear on her back. She stands on cracked stone, her arms folded as she glares menacingly towards the churchmen.

She opens her mouth.

“Leave!” she says one word.

Not even a moment later, a feeling of power settles on Franky’s consciousness as his body heats up, throat starting to feel dry as a status effect forms into view.

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