Sanctum of Trials. This space, roughly 3 by 3 meters in size, was bare, with no furniture except for a single meditation seat at the center of the room. The walls and ceiling were made of wood and leaves, a hallmark of druidic architecture. Etched into the curved roof and all around the walls were intricate symbols, unfamiliar to me. These symbols emitted a faint green glow. The magical aura in the room was palpable, thick with power.
After the blessing, we young druids took turns entering this sacred space. I immediately seated myself cross-legged in the center, closing my eyes to meditate, as I had been instructed. Within the game, the Sanctum of Trials is where druids learn their spells. Each spell branched into its own unique paths, allowing for countless combinations. Most druid spells were nature-based, designed to enhance status or provide buffs. It was no surprise that druids often filled support roles within teams.
As soon as my eyes closed and I began to meditate, visions of the spells available to me appeared, along with detailed descriptions.
Verdant Surge, Emberroot, Thornstrike, Nature’s Veil.
One by one, I read the details of these spells. Fortunately, they were identical to what I had seen in the game.
After simulating hundreds of strategies in my mind, I settled on one spell that seemed essential for survival in the early floors.
But how do I choose the spell I want? I wondered. I focused my thoughts on the spell.
[You have successfully learned Rejuvenation.]
I felt something magical enter me, accompanied by a gentle vibration in my horns. It seems to have worked, I thought. Now, it was time to choose the next spell.
Druids could select two basic spells at the start of the game. Most players would choose one defensive spell and one offensive spell. Based on the strategy I had decided on, I already knew which spell to pick next. High risk, high reward. If this failed, my character would likely become worthless or even worse, perish. But if it succeeded, I was confident I could at least make it to the second floor. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes once again.
[You have successfully learned Windstride.]
I hope this works.
***
After the Sanctum of Trials, the young druids were allowed to prepare for the adventure that awaited them the following day. More than half of them made their way to their rooms to rest, as the night had already fallen. Some gathered in groups, chatting and testing out the spells they had chosen. I don’t have much time left. Every second is precious, and I must use it wisely to finalize my last remaining preparations. I quickly headed back to the starting area, passing the Sacred Willow, and made my way toward a small hidden waterfall deep within the heart of Willow’s End—the place that druids lived.
Fleet Lotus seeds, Blue Shell Snails, and Red Nightshade. I worked diligently to gather all of these, all of which could be found around the waterfall. Once I had collected everything I needed, I hurried to my next destination—Nightspring Glades. A small area at the border of Willow’s End and Ellarion Woods to the west. Here, I could find the last ingredient I needed. Nightspring Glades was an open space within the forest, where the moonlight pierced through the canopy, illuminating the area clearly. Filled with tall grasses, it was unmistakably the place I had been searching for.
To my surprise, I spotted a dark figure bent over in the middle of Nightspring Glades. It was highly unusual to find anyone else here at night. Slowly, I moved forward, keeping a close eye on the figure.
“Orin Sylvas?” I asked. I could vaguely recognize the shadowy figure. She was one of the newly born druids, small in stature and looking rather shy. I recognized her by her stiff gestures and confused demeanor during the ceremony—perhaps because she had been placed in the first place.
Startled and nervous, Orin turned to look at me. She seemed relieved and gave me a stiff smile. "Are you collecting Emberfly?" I asked again, returning her smile. Orin nodded slowly. "Eryndor Leafshade," I continued, extending my hand.
“H-hi,” she stuttered, clearly caught off guard. "Y-yes, I know you. You are quite famous among the newborns," she added, her voice still a little shaky. I remained silent, my gaze fixed on her. She must have been referring to the moment with the Archdruid during the blessing ceremony.
I was somewhat surprised to find another druid who knew about the use of emberfly. I had planned to ask more, but decided to hold back. Instead, we both focused on gathering the emberflies, engaging in light conversation now and then. To my surprise, beneath her shy exterior, Orin actually seemed quite eager to talk. She shared how she had learned about emberfly. It turned out she had visited the library and read extensively about a certain area.
We spent about 20 minutes gathering the emberflies before deciding to return to the resting area.
"Eryndor, would you like to form a team with me?" Orin asked, breaking the silence as we walked.
I paused for a moment, considering her question carefully, before responding.
Druids have long been regarded as the weakest among the adventurer races. While a druid may manage to join a team, their role is often relegated to that of a courier or a support character, ensuring that they receive only the smallest share of any spoils or rewards. This unfair condition widens the gap in combat prowess between druids and the others, as the rewards from the Tower are essential for any adventurer seeking to thrive. For this very reason, druids are often encouraged to form exclusive teams with others of their kind. Though such arrangements are far from ideal, they do increase the likelihood of survival, especially when faced with the harsh realities of the Tower. Adding weight to this notion, the Archdruid’s endorsement of me made the idea of teaming up with me all the more reasonable.
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
"I’m afraid I can’t," I replied curtly, choosing not to elaborate. According to the strategy I had mapped out, entering the Tower alone was necessary. I had to follow through on that plan, no matter what. Yet, I held back from explaining the entire situation to her.
"Hahaha, I understand," Orin chuckled, though her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. It was clear that she was hiding a hint of disappointment. Feeling a bit guilty about turning her down, I decided to offer her some helpful advice about the Redridge Range, ensuring it was all common knowledge while also trying to avoid raising any suspicions. After all, it would be strange if a druid, barely out of their birth stage, had so much detailed knowledge about the Tower.
"Wow, you really know a lot," Orin said with wide eyes, her face filled with admiration. "No wonder the Archdruid has such high expectations for you."
I shifted uncomfortably. "I’m just repeating what the elder shared with me during our study," I said, trying to downplay my knowledge.
"I’ll make sure to repay you once the exploration is over," Orin responded eagerly, her excitement barely contained.
I couldn’t help but smile at her earnestness. She truly was a unique individual. I thought to myself, hoping silently that both of us would be able to overcome the challenges of this first exploration. It was a daunting task, but perhaps we could find a way to succeed together, even if our paths diverged for now.
***
At exactly 10 o''clock, the young druids gathered in the training area, where the morning sunlight filtered through the canopy of trees overhead, casting dappled shadows onto the forest floor. We stood in neat rows, eagerly awaiting our instructor’s next words. After a short speech, we used the recently distributed equipment, feeling a slight boost in our overall stats. Then our group was broken into smaller teams, each assigned a different instructor.
[Eryndor Leafshade]
[Soul Level: 1
Vitality: 2 → 3
Strength: 3 → 4
Agility: 3
Wisdom: 21 → 22
Willpower: 134]
[Spells: Rejuvenation, Windstride]
***
My instructor, Vallen Raenhir, was a young woman of average stature, her figure wrapped in a deep crimson robe that flowed around her as she moved. Her face was stern and determined, and there was no mistaking her authority. The sharpness in her voice left no room for hesitation.
"Hurry up, we don’t have time to waste!" she barked, her tone commanding and urgent as she motioned for us to follow. She swiftly led us through the dense forest, moving with purpose toward a particular destination.
As we walked, the trees around us grew larger, towering high above, their bark as white as moonlight, and their leaves shimmering faintly in a delicate glow, as if touched by the magic of the world itself. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth, freshly bloomed flowers, and the almost imperceptible hum of nature’s arcane energy.
We reached a clearing where the vastness of the forest opened up, and at its heart stood an awe-inspiring sight: the Worlroot, an ancient oak that seemed to stretch toward the heavens. Its trunk, gnarled and twisted by time, pulsed with a deep, steady life force. Its massive roots extended far into the ground, creating a network that connected the tree to the very heartbeat of the earth itself. Above, its branches twisted through the sky, weaving in and out of the clouds, as though the tree itself was trying to touch the heavens.
At the base of the Worlroot, nestled among the vines and moss, was a large, circular stone platform. This platform, ancient as the tree, was covered in intricate druidic runes—symbols whose meaning had been lost to time, but whose power remained. They glowed faintly under the touch of sunlight, their ethereal light casting a soft shimmer over the stone.
Andrheus Rift, a mystical anomaly embedded in the heart of the ancient oak’s roots, pulsating with an energy that felt as though it were alive. It was a magical warp point, a conduit between places, allowing druids to travel across vast distances with ease. In the game, one had to complete a certain achievement before being allowed to travel using the rift. I remembered the process well—tedious and time consuming process—but none of that mattered now. Here, in this world, the rules were different.
"How convenient," I mused silently, admiring the shimmering rift before me. However, a small seed of caution sprouted in the back of my mind. The world around me was tangible, alive, and unpredictable. Not everything I had learned in the digital realm would apply here. I needed to let go of the mindset of a mere gamer and embrace the uncertainty of this new reality. It was time to adapt—to be open to the unknown rather than relying on strategies built in a virtual world.
When instructor Vallen Raenhir raised her hands and began the incantation to activate the Andrheus Rift, a strange sensation gripped me, deep within my stomach. It was as if my insides were being twisted and stirred, causing an uncomfortable churning that radiated outward. My vision immediately began to swim, the world around me blurring into an unrecognizable mess of colors, as if the very fabric of reality were unraveling before my eyes. The air grew thick, pressing in on me from all sides, and for a moment, I felt as if the ground beneath my feet had ceased to exist altogether. It lasted only a few moments, but those moments felt like an eternity.
Then, as quickly as it had come, the sensation faded. The spinning stopped, the dizziness vanished, and I could finally open my eyes again. But the world I found myself in was no longer the one I had just left. The clearing by the Worlroot was gone, replaced by a landscape that was totally different. The very air was thick with a different energy—a type of magic that vibrated in the atmosphere, alive and ancient. In the distance, towering high above the surrounding landscape, stood the Tower of Ascension.
Rising high above the bustling town like a monolith carved by the gods themselves, the Tower of Ascension stands as both a symbol of hope and a daunting challenge for any adventurer who dares to enter its shadow. Located at the heart of the town, its towering spires stretch up to the heavens, reaching a total of ten stories, each higher and more treacherous than the last. The tower is constructed from ancient stone, its surface etched with intricate runes and symbols that pulse faintly with an inner magic. The air around it feels charged, as if the tower itself is alive with an ancient energy.
The base of the Tower of Ascension is surrounded by a sprawling plaza, where adventurers gather, prepare, and share stories before embarking on their climb. Massive iron doors adorned with gilded symbols of various elemental forces guard the entrance, opening only to those who have been deemed worthy by the Tower''s ancient magic. At the foot of the tower, an inscription reads: "Only the strongest may ascend. The trials will test your mind, body, and soul.
I felt a surge of anticipation mixed with trepidation as I gazed at the tower before me. This was no mere challenge. It was a rite of passage, a trial by fire that would push every adventurer to their limits. Only those who were truly worthy would succeed.
Suddenly, a loud, mocking laugh broke the tension, and I turned to see a group of adventurers sneering in our direction. “Hahaha, look at those grass-fed weaklings!” one of them jeered, pointing a finger at our group. They were a rowdy bunch, their laughter echoing across the plaza as they mocked us, but we simply remained silent, pretending not to hear them, just as instructor Vallen had advised. Their words stung, but I knew better than to rise to the bait.
Those fuckers. I thought bitterly to myself while remembering their faces.