Sworded Affair

Happy to have defeated the Leech King and even added his spirit to her arsenal, Emma returned her attention to the remaining half of the floor. Stepping forward confidently onto a long, straight corridor, she approached the third cluster flight of tomes at a brisk walk. Surprisingly, their magic began to manifest when she was less than halfway towards them, considerably further back than in either of her previous encounters. Once again forming a single large construct, black ink coalesced into a spectacle of red and white, angled precisely forty-five degrees to her right.

[A Big Fan - Level 1]

"A fan?" Emma tilted her head; before stabbing Epitaph deep into the floor in front of her.

Even with her blade as a secure handle for her two-handed death grip (pun intended), Emma barely avoided being blown off the platform by the monstrous gust generated by the fan's first flap.

"That would've been a humiliating way to go." Emma groused, analyzing her opponent as she hung on for dear life behind Epitaph, continually buffeted by gusts of wind. "Let's see here; a single wave at a time, in two second intervals?"

Timing the fan's movements until she had the motions memorized, Emma took the next lull between waves to hop forward, repositioning ahead of her blade such that the next blow sent her into Epitaph instead of hanging on behind it, thereby gaining a meter or so of distance towards her assailant. In the next lull, Epitaph was withdrawn and repositioned ahead of her yet again; in this way, Emma managed to progress at a snail's pace, using Epitaph as a portable handhold and crawling to make each inch count, until she came within striking distance of the fan nearly five minutes later.

"Whoever designed this Dungeon has a devious streak," Emma complained, as she cut the fan to ribbons before it could blow again.

[A Big Fan defeated!

50 EXP gained.

Level up!

Emma Knight - Level 7 Revenant

Race: Undead {LOCKED}

Alignment: True Neutral

Anima: 400

EXP: 1115/1500

Die by the Sword is in effect, re-calibrating skill selection!

Seven is the number!

Choose one of the following three Weapon Enhancements for Epitaph:

Weeping Scar: Wounds caused by this blade inflict periodic poison damage until they are healed.

Searing Enigma: Those who view this blade are assailed with eldritch knowledge, disrupting the focus of the strong and driving the weak to madness.

Spirit Severing: Consume intangible aspects of those that are slain. +10% EXP gained for killing with this blade.]

"Interesting," Emma hummed; not quite as excited as she'd been previously despite the obvious power in the selection; in large part due to the short duration between her recent level ups.

"Definitely not the one for bonus experience gained; I'm already growing at a very generous pace as it stands. Maybe it would be more useful later down the line? But no, there's no point betting a selection on circumstances that might never become relevant. Hmm. Honestly, Searing Enigma is probably the strongest, but quite frankly, that description worries me. If there's no off-switch, then I'll never be able to show Epitaph around friendlies any more, or they won't remain friendly for long. Is that going to be an issue?"

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[At present, yes. Further modifications may mitigate or resolve this concern.]

"Weeping Scar it is then," Emma grimaced. "Not the most exciting effect all told, but a consistent one with good synergy for my existing skill set; between that and my healing I can outlast almost any opponent."

[Weapon Enhancement - Weeping Scar selected!]

Epitaph didn't look any different after receiving the upgrade, nor was there any tangible sensation upon her soul this time around. Despite that, Emma's trusty status updates had yet to lie to her even once, so she decided to leave testing aside in favor of proceeding toward the final challenge of the floor. The last few floating books paid her no mind as she arrived, not even when Emma was directly below them, staring up at them and waiting for a reaction.

[What are you looking at? - Level 9]

"Eh?" Emma blinked, squinting as she read a second time to make sure she wasn't seeing things.

[Yeah, I'm talking to you! - Level 9]

"What's wrong with this description? System, are you bugging out on me, or did April Fools day come early?"

[Amogus - Level 9]

Annoyed, Emma almost swung at the nearest book before halting the motion midway, getting a funny feeling about the situation. The books themselves remained in place, declining to follow her as she backed up quite some distance away, before calling on her captive boss for the first time. Despite her lingering worries, the floor was more than able to hold the Leech King's weight, showing no signs of strain as it manifested; now tinged a spectral blue but otherwise identical to the boss Emma had fought against not long ago.

[Hit me with your best shot! - Level 9]

"Yeah, that's beyond suspicious," Emma deadpanned. "Big guy, go eat those books for breakfast."

Obeying her command, the Leech King darted forward with deceptive swiftness, lunging at the final approach and swallowing the entire cluster whole in a single gulp. He then exploded, bits of gore coating the entire platform, with yet more falling into the mists below.

[1/1 The Leech King - Level 8 (Cooldown: 1 hour)]

"Yeah, that's about what I expected," Emma sighed. "Out of curiosity, how many people have actually fallen for that?"

"This fourth obstacle has the highest kill count for the floor, as a matter of fact." The overseer replied, an unmistakable undercurrent of pride in her voice. "Having defeated the first three challenges, most aspirants will have internalized the idea that the books themselves are harmless, so long as they aren't given the chance to manifest their contents. Many impatient youngsters in particular notice how 'slow' the last batch are at summoning, and try to interrupt the process with their attacks."

"That's cold," Emma whistled. "Sure, there are some ranged attackers who'll get away with it purely off of lack of proximity, but any melee fighter who takes that explosion is done for."

"We are a society dedicated to the advancement of magic," The overseer sniffed imperiously. "Hotblooded morons with swords for brains are not welcome within these hallowed halls of learning. We have standards."

The grinding of hidden mechanisms caught Emma's ear as the overseer's diatribe finished. As Emma looked on, a spiral staircase descended from on high through a hole in the roof, landing where the final books had been with a firm thud.

"Up you go then," The overseer ordered. "By clearing the first floor, you've made it into the upper half of aspirants already; I'd say congratulations, but honestly, this floor has the highest rate of attrition of the first ten floors by far. Anyone can enter after all, whether they're remotely ready for the trials or not; whereas those who make it to the second floor often have what it takes to clear the whole lot."

"Dragging down the average, huh?" Emma grinned, reminded of many complaints from teachers she'd heard over the years. "Sounds like education never changes, magical or otherwise."

[First floor clear!]

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