While the rest of the group casually took the potions in front of them, Rachel couldn’t help but get the feeling that sothing was accelerating toward them. Like an event being pushed forward because of their actions.
With each person taking their potion in sequence, the sensation beca stronger and stronger until she beca almost certain.
After they leave this tree, sothing was going to happen. Sothing big.
However, while she didn’t know what it was, getting stronger was definitely the right call to make.
So without any further hesitation, she threw her head back and downed the contents. She then imdiately scowled.
"Why does mine taste like a banana smoothie?! Is it just cause I am a monkey girl now? This is so racist bullshit!"
Her ears twitched in annoyance as Leo who heard her complaint quietly snickered as if he found her situation to be amusing... and honestly he did.
In his eyes, she was the joker of the group. When it ca to diplomacy and communication, Leo would leave it to Rachel if he wanted a 95% chance at failure.
So when the heckler gets heckled he is going to laugh. Hearing his amused laughter caused Rachel to frown even more and shoot Leo a frustrated glare. She would never dare tell him that the banana smoothie was actually really good. Nope. Never.
Rachel crossed her arms and turned away from Leo with a huff, muttering under her breath about "flavor profiling" and "species discrimination." Her tail lashed once behind her, but Leo just kept smirking.
Aria tried to stifle a laugh from nearby, but Rachel didn’t pay her any mind. Her attention had shifted.
That feeling again.
The sa weight pressing at the edges of her thoughts. She didn’t know where it ca from, only that it had grown stronger each ti one of them drank the potion. Like sothing was watching. Waiting. Each bottle tipped was another tick on a clock she couldn’t see.
And now there was only two left.
Trying not to think about the foreboding feeling, she turned her attention to the book and the item that was left for her.
"What in the actual hell is this..."
Disbelief slipped from Rachel’s lips as she held up the armor that the Tree had provided. The issue was that sohow it was even more revealing than the one she was wearing right now!
The top was essentially a tal plate with bandages to bind it in place. While nothing important would be outright exposed, her stomach, back and shoulders were bare.
If soone didn’t know any better, they would accuse her of being a dancer!
Shadowmancers Plate (Set Gear)
Grade: Epic
Light Armor
Set Gear (1/4)
Status: Degraded
Durability: 12/100
10% Reflexes
10% Magic Regen
10% MP
Description: The Shadowmancer Plate was forged by an Ancient god many eons ago. The recipient was their mortal disciple who defied fate and rose to power. When the disciple’s life was coming to an end, they chose to scatter their armor so that it did not fall into the wrong hands.
Note: The piece has endured the harshness of ti and its quality and abilities have been degraded. With enough ti and the right materials, a skilled Tailor may be able to repair the armor so that it may see glory once more.
Rachel held the piece of armor at arm’s length like it might bite her.
"This isn’t armor. This is false advertising. What’s next? tal bikini bottoms and a dagger called ’High Heels of Doom?’"
No one answered, but Penny gave her a sympathetic glance. Aria, on the other hand, had a hand over her mouth, clearly trying not to laugh again.
Rachel’s eye twitched.
This was supposed to be a reward. A piece of gear forged by an ancient god, handed down by a sacred tree, soaked in centuries of mysticism and power. And it looked like sothing out of a cheap fantasy calendar.
She flipped it around to examine the back, only to find that it offered even less coverage than she feared. Her tail bristled.
"What happened to armor looking like armor?" she muttered as she stuffed it in her inventory with a grumble. "I swear if the next piece is just so fancy boots and a thong, I’mma find this ancient god and beat his ass!"
Rachel gave one last huff, the kind that said she was done with stupid armor and even stupider fashion gods, and turned her attention to the only item left in front of her. A thin black book with no title on the cover rested quietly on a patch of moss. Unlike the armor, it didn’t gleam or hum or look impressive.
It looked plain. Understated. Unremarkable.
Which ant it was probably the most important thing here.
She crouched down and picked it up. The leather was cold against her fingers, unnaturally so, like it had been resting in shadow instead of sunlight. A system prompt floated up in her vision the mont she touched it.
Shadow Spike
Active Spell
Shadow Damage
Cost: 15 mp
Cooldown: 5 seconds
Effect: Summons a Spike to rise from the targets shadow to pierce the target.
Rachel didn’t even hesitate to learn the skill.
"Yes."
The book dissolved into threads of ink that slithered across her fingertips and disappeared into her skin. A rush of cold spread through her palm, up her arm, and settled sowhere deep behind her heart. She inhaled sharply at the sensation, her pupils narrowing for a mont as the skill anchored itself into her mind.
Her first offensive spell. A ranged one at that. In all honesty, she felt it was a bit weird that as a mage her only abilities forced her to get into close combat.
But now she had a ranged spell of her own. Now she really felt like she was a mage now and not so pretender.
Yet her focus was ripped away from her new spell as she felt that gut feeling grow stronger as Greg downed his potion. Only Leo was left.
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