[Equipment

  Consumed Wolf’s Ring (Rare)

  Consumed by the Curse, the wolf remembered nothing about its past. All that remained with it was primal rage. The wolf was slain by the Mage as it struggled to defend what had once mattered to it, for reasons it had forgotten. The ring is the sole proof that it once existed.

  Effects: increases the power of all spells and magic Active Skills by 10%.

  Secondary Effects: Increases the wearer’s physical stats by 20.

  *All effects are amplified as the wearer gets injured, up to a maximum of 15%.]

  Michael let out a breath, nodding to himself.

  It’s a good ring.

  The primary effect was good enough on its own, but the berserker-like amplification made it even better. It was a ring with no downsides. On top of it all, it wouldn’t hinder him in the least, since all he needed to do was wear it on his finger. At that moment, a question hit him.

  How many rings can I even wear at a time?

  Physically, it would be possible to stack several ring Equipment on each finger, almost to a comical extent. Did that mean rings were actually the best pieces of Equipment? No, that was unlikely. The System probably had limitations in place to prevent this from happening. The same went with necklaces.

  Well, it doesn’t really matter right now.

  He only had a single ring, anyway. Michael took another look at the charred remains of Iki, turning his thoughts to other matters.

  To beat him, I was forced to take a severe injury. Shit, I almost died.

  It was likely that from here on, things would only get worse, especially because the Curse’s effects had increased. Even though he would Level up from the repeated fights, this wouldn’t make them less dangerous. If he could, he would go back to Tairy and train some more before returning to the Consumed Territory, but there was simply no time. The Tutorial was in its last stretch. Clyranth’s words still rang in his mind. Backing down and accepting his current performance wasn’t an option. Because he didn’t know what exactly would even happen once the Tutorial ended, he needed to jump at every opportunity to become stronger.

  Michael took a deep breath.

  Can only keep going, then.

  He would train and fight at the same time. They did say that experience was the best teacher. Even if it meant having another sword pierce through his stomach, he would keep going. He would only return to Tairy and dedicate himself to training only if it was absolutely necessary.

  Having reaffirmed his determination to himself, Michael looked around, trying to decide where to go. His gaze reached a stone path that led from the current blue trail that made up Bluestone’s sole Territory in the Consumed lands into the darkness. After taking another deep breath, he followed it. It was almost disheartening to delve into the darkness again, but Michael only sighed and marched on.

  It didn’t take long for the first Forgotten to reach him. However, the creature wasn’t a dark elf. Michael blinked at the green skin and large lower fangs that almost looked like tusks. The orc had a single, circular wound on its chest, and held a greatsword that was almost larger than its own body. Michael’s expression hardened as he looked at it.

  They moved at the same time. Michael hurriedly finished his chanting as the greatsword was about to reach him, stepping to the side to just barely dodge the attack. Once the blade smashed on the ground, he pointed his staff at the Forgotten’s head.

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  “Mana Missile.”

  The twin projectiles took shape and shot toward the orc, who shifted his head to avoid them. Michael gritted his teeth and continued to chant, jumping backward to create more distance.

  This situation repeated itself over the course of the next few minutes. Michael tried to minimize his injuries, but the Forgotten was equally good at it, despite the Curse. As the battle extended itself, the risk of being found by other Forgotten increased. Eventually, the slashes and thrusts managed to reach Michael’s body. Each cut went deeper than the last amidst bursts of crimson. The situation only worsened once a cyan aura took shape around the orc. In the end, as the stinging pain of the various wounds cried out, Michael reached a single conclusion.

  I need to do it again.

  If he didn’t put his life on the line like in the battle against Iki, he wouldn’t be able to defeat this Forgotten before more of them found him, which would only result in his death.

  So be it.

  Michael’s Dragonheart raced within his chest. As the greatsword slashed diagonally at his chest, his eyes widened. He took a calculated step back, allowing the attack to cut his chest. At the same time, he gasped out the final part of a chant.

  “Earth Spike.”

  The earth behind the orc rippled. A fraction of a second later, twin spikes tore their way out of the stone ground and pierced the Forgotten’s neck. Once Michael waved his staff, they became thicker and severed the orc’s head completely. He let out a breath as the Forgotten’s body collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut, then immediately cast Minor Heal. The waves of healing mana coursed through him, bringing him relief from the pain. Michael immediately resumed his walk, watching his mana levels.

  The battles that followed were both similar and remarkably different. Each Forgotten presented a unique challenge, and he was forced to risk his neck each and every time. The deeper he went, the stronger the Forgotten became. Finally, after walking for a while and fighting continuously, Michael reached what he assumed to be the Forgotten orc’s Village. Just like the dark elves’, there was only a single enemy at its heart.

  Michael gauged his enemy from afar. Unlike what he expected from an orc, the Forgotten was holding a staff and wearing robes.

  A Mage, huh?

  He stopped to analyze his condition. Physically, Minor Heal and Cleansing had healed all wounds he had received, and his Dragonheart continued to supply him with mana that felt almost inexhaustible. The problem was Clear Sight. Michael looked around. The previously clear scenery was now covered in shadows that became darker by the second. The light had disappeared, leaving behind only a dim world. He frowned.

  This isn’t ideal, but…

  If he decided to fight the orc Mage, he would be striding dangerously close to recklessness. It wasn’t a matter of taking a risk or not.

  Can I kill the orc before Clear Sight runs out?

  Michael stared at the Forgotten. He could simply go back to Bluestone, get Sullivan to cast Clear Sight again, and then run back here. It wouldn’t take too long, even though he would likely have to fight more Forgotten on the way back and forth. There was also the possibility that he wouldn’t have to fight at all as long as he stuck to the blue path he’d carved into the Consumed Territory.

  But he didn’t turn around.

  His Dragonheart thumped in his chest, as if trying to remind him of its existence. Was his desire to keep fighting caused only by his determination to become as powerful as possible? Or was there more to it? It was a strange feeling, not to recognize his own emotions.

  If they are my own at all.

  Michael let out a sigh and stood up from his crouching position.

  He raised his staff, still some distance away from the Village’s center, and started chanting. The orc reacted immediately and looked straight in his direction. Michael narrowed his eyes but didn’t stop casting. The orc Mage raised his staff with a guttural sound, slurring whatever chant he was supposed to say. Still, the mana gathering around him was proof enough that it was working. Without hesitation, Michael dashed to the side, keeping his eyes on the enemy.

  Because he had started just a bit earlier, he finished first.

  “Fireball.”

  The atmospheric mana ignited. The magic flames gathered into twin spheres and shot toward the Forgotten. Hot air rushed to Michael’s face, but he didn’t even blink as he kept his eyes on the Fireballs. The orc finished casting his spell. A thin layer of green mana took shape above the Forgotten’s skin, then expanded into a large sphere.

  No point in changing the Fireballs’ trajectories.

  Magic Shield was an omnidirectional spell. All he could do was break through it with brute force. His Dragonheart thumped in his chest, channeling power into his spell. Once the twin Fireballs touched the orc’s Shield, Michael slightly waved his staff. The spheres exploded in a burst of heat and all-consuming fire. It was as if the Shield had been hit by a missile. The flames covered the entirety of the Forgotten’s Shield in a heartbeat and kept going. They devoured the stone ground around the orc and quickly spread out over several meters to create an enormous inferno.

  Still running, Michael could see the Forgotten’s silhouette through the fire. The orc was still keeping its Shield up but seemed to be uninjured.

  He can block one of my Second Circle spells?

  For some reason, he grinned at the sight. Once again, his life was on the line.