The hum of Anders' SUV engine accompanied the group's departure from Lüneburg Heath, its wheels crunching on the gravelly path. Emil helped them out a bit more and refilled their tank, along with giving them a few extra liters.
Although it’d be a stretch, they should be able to near the Southern Border of Germany with what they have now.
The vehicle's cabin was filled with light banter, punctuated by occasional bouts of contemplative silence. Zayzal sat in the passenger seat, fiddling with the compass they received from the Troll Dungeon.
Meanwhile, Sera took this opportunity to meditate. She wanted to improve her [Barrier Constructor] as much as possible.
Their path took them through Hanover, where the rejuvenated city bustled with activity, both military and civilian alike. Rebuilding efforts were evident everywhere as people tried to return to a bit of normalcy.
They didn’t linger and pressed on towards Braunschweig.
The journey, thus far uneventful, was a nice break from all the monsters they seemed to face regularly.
However, as they entered the outskirts of Braunschweig, Zayzal noticed the previously immobile compass needle began to waver. Holding it steadily in his palm, he observed it shift in its direction, now pointing southeast.
“Hmm? Interesting.” He muttered with a raised eyebrow.
“What?” Anders asked.
“The compass we got started working.”
“Oh?” Anders' interest was piqued. “What’s it doing? Where’s it pointing?”
“Looks like it’s pointing Southeast,” Zayzal replied.
“Then, do you want to follow it? Or should we keep heading south?” Anders asked before adding, “I’m fine either way. It’s up to you.”
“I don’t care either.” Sera chimed in without opening her eyes.
Zayzal fell into thought. On one hand, it would delay their journey to Greece. On the other hand, the compass could lead them to something special. He pulled out his phone and tried to contact his parents but to no avail. He tried a few other numbers, but they didn’t work either.
He sighed but soon made his decision.
“...Let’s see where the compass leads to.”
“Alright! Let’s go!”
“Let’s get that loot!”
His two companions exclaimed. Zayzal shook his head and put the compass on the dashboard for Anders to follow, then fell silent.
‘I’m confident my parents are alive. I’ve learned all my fighting and survival skills from them. If they died or were in trouble, then I doubt I would be able to help them as I am now.’ He thought, his expression turning somber.
His father was a master at hand-to-hand combat and skilled with cold weapons. His mother was a decent archer but also a great historian. They were both rather renowned in their community, so as long as they didn’t die from the initial onset of mana, they should be alive.
However, Zayzal still had a long way to go before he reached Greece.
‘Who knows what might appear in the coming days? A damn Dragon might just appear and reduce us all to ashes! We need to be prepared for something like that!’
Following the compass's direction, Anders steered the SUV southeast, leaving behind the familiar roads for smaller, less-traveled paths. The landscape began to change, with the dense urban environment giving way to sprawling forests, their trees tall and imposing.
***
Deep in the forests of Germany, Kaldrik Voss stood tall among the remnants of a destroyed village. With his 6'5" stature, short silver-gray hair, and icy blue eyes, Kaldrik was an imposing sight.
The dark, jagged scar that ran down his right eye added a chilling touch to his already cold demeanor. Dressed in luxurious dark robes that flapped in the harsh wind, he was the very embodiment of menace.
Around him were the corpses of dozens of wild animals, little goblin-like monsters, and humans. There were burn marks, gashes, and shattered bones all over the bodies.
All the survivors backed away from him in fear, indicating that it was Kaldrik who was the cause of this mess.
He surveyed the area, a small smirk gracing his lips. While most saw destruction, he saw an opportunity.
His talent, [Elemental Mana Control], allowed him to feel and control mana and its various elements with unmatched proficiency.
He could bend the very elements to his will, creating rocks out of thin air, wind blades, or water shields with but a mere thought. His lineage, which his family believed could be traced back to an ancient mage from thousands of years ago, seemed to be proved true. He had certainly manifested the powers expected of an ancient mage’s bloodline.
In normal times, this was disregarded as nonsense, but when he awakened a talent that granted him immense control over this new energy, he could no longer call it the ramblings of the uneducated.
Born in a remote northern region known for its relentless winters and unforgiving terrain, he was raised amidst tales of powerful mages and warriors. As a child, the community had passed down all their teachings, wanting to awaken and bring forth the first mage in millennia. This was no surprise, considering his bloodline.
But as he grew older, his ambition grew as well. Unwilling to be tethered by familial bonds and traditions, Kaldrik betrayed his own family in pursuit of more power.
His insatiable thirst led him to explore the newfound dungeons. It was in these dark depths that he further honed his skills, mastering dark magic and developing an uncanny ability to navigate the dungeons using this power.
As he moved through the destroyed village, a group of survivors approached him, hope evident in their eyes. Perhaps they thought he'd be their savior.
Kaldrik, however, had other plans. He recognized the strong potential in some of them, their mana fluctuating in a way that indicated they might be of use.
In a voice as cold as the northern winds, he addressed them, "You may follow me if you wish to live. But know this – I will not tolerate weakness. Prove your worth, or perish."
Several among the group hesitated, fear evident in their eyes. But a good number stepped forward, ready to follow this enigmatic, powerful mage. They were desperate for a leader in these trying times, even if it came from someone as intimidating as Kaldrik.
He smirked, finding their desperation amusing. But he also recognized the value of having followers.
‘Every good ruler has peons to do his bidding. These wastrels will be the catapult that will set me above the rest.’ He thought, his mind already envisioning a glorious future.
Kaldrik observed the ragtag group that now followed him. Despite their poor appearance, they gave off an air of resiliency.
The early morning sun gleamed on the remnants of the destroyed village, its rays casting shimmering patterns on a partially destroyed car nearby. It was an older model, but it still looked functional. Walking over, Kaldrik examined it and, utilizing his [Elemental Mana Control], sent a jolt of electricity into the ignition.
In mere moments, the car's engine roared to life, stunning the group of survivors.
"Load whatever supplies you can find into this vehicle," Kaldrik commanded, and they scurried to do his bidding. Watching their hasty movements, his icy blue eyes glinted with amusement. The sensation of power was intoxicating, and every moment only made him crave it more.
As they loaded the car, Kaldrik closed his eyes to sense the mana in the air.
‘Let’s see… Which direction has the densest amount of mana?’ He questioned, feeling this omnipresent energy brush against his skin. From his experience since the beginning of the ‘apocalypse’, dungeons often have the densest mana.
If he could find another one, he could improve faster.
However, he couldn’t quite get an accurate read as the distance to the next dungeon seemed quite far.
‘A shame, but not unexpected.’ He thought, shaking his head. ‘But, I’ve heard that central Germany is a mess right now, so for now, I’ll just head in that direction and scope things out. I’ll run into a dungeon eventually.’
When the car was filled, he slipped into the driver's seat and gripped the steering wheel. Only then did he allow all his followers, whom he couldn’t be bothered to count, into his car. Then he took off, hardly allowing them to say goodbye to their families.
As they ventured further into central Germany, the landscape changed, becoming more rugged and mountainous. The Harz Mountains loomed in the distance, their peaks shrouded in low-altitude clouds. But what truly caught Kaldrik's attention was the palpable increase in the density of mana in the atmosphere. He could feel it tingling on his skin, beckoning him closer.
‘There must be a dungeon there.’ He thought with a smirk.
Several hours later, the sun hung high in the sky as the group made their way through a more forested area. The old, rugged car held as many supplies as it could bear, its engine grumbling and coughing as it struggled to navigate the uneven terrain.
He went as far as the roads could take him before, eventually, he was forced to park the car and continue on foot.
“Get out! We’re going to explore these mountains!” Kaldrik ordered, causing his followers to scramble out of the car, taking whatever supplies they could hold with them.
The hum of Anders' SUV engine accompanied the group's departure from Lüneburg Heath, its wheels crunching on the gravelly path. Emil helped them out a bit more and refilled their tank, along with giving them a few extra liters.
Although it’d be a stretch, they should be able to near the Southern Border of Germany with what they have now.
The vehicle's cabin was filled with light banter, punctuated by occasional bouts of contemplative silence. Zayzal sat in the passenger seat, fiddling with the compass they received from the Troll Dungeon.
Meanwhile, Sera took this opportunity to meditate. She wanted to improve her [Barrier Constructor] as much as possible.
Their path took them through Hanover, where the rejuvenated city bustled with activity, both military and civilian alike. Rebuilding efforts were evident everywhere as people tried to return to a bit of normalcy.
They didn’t linger and pressed on towards Braunschweig.
The journey, thus far uneventful, was a nice break from all the monsters they seemed to face regularly.
However, as they entered the outskirts of Braunschweig, Zayzal noticed the previously immobile compass needle began to waver. Holding it steadily in his palm, he observed it shift in its direction, now pointing southeast.
“Hmm? Interesting.” He muttered with a raised eyebrow.
“What?” Anders asked.
“The compass we got started working.”
“Oh?” Anders' interest was piqued. “What’s it doing? Where’s it pointing?”
“Looks like it’s pointing Southeast,” Zayzal replied.
“Then, do you want to follow it? Or should we keep heading south?” Anders asked before adding, “I’m fine either way. It’s up to you.”
“I don’t care either.” Sera chimed in without opening her eyes.
Zayzal fell into thought. On one hand, it would delay their journey to Greece. On the other hand, the compass could lead them to something special. He pulled out his phone and tried to contact his parents but to no avail. He tried a few other numbers, but they didn’t work either.
He sighed but soon made his decision.
“...Let’s see where the compass leads to.”
“Alright! Let’s go!”
“Let’s get that loot!”
His two companions exclaimed. Zayzal shook his head and put the compass on the dashboard for Anders to follow, then fell silent.
‘I’m confident my parents are alive. I’ve learned all my fighting and survival skills from them. If they died or were in trouble, then I doubt I would be able to help them as I am now.’ He thought, his expression turning somber.
His father was a master at hand-to-hand combat and skilled with cold weapons. His mother was a decent archer but also a great historian. They were both rather renowned in their community, so as long as they didn’t die from the initial onset of mana, they should be alive.
However, Zayzal still had a long way to go before he reached Greece.
‘Who knows what might appear in the coming days? A damn Dragon might just appear and reduce us all to ashes! We need to be prepared for something like that!’
Following the compass's direction, Anders steered the SUV southeast, leaving behind the familiar roads for smaller, less-traveled paths. The landscape began to change, with the dense urban environment giving way to sprawling forests, their trees tall and imposing.
***
Deep in the forests of Germany, Kaldrik Voss stood tall among the remnants of a destroyed village. With his 6'5" stature, short silver-gray hair, and icy blue eyes, Kaldrik was an imposing sight.
The dark, jagged scar that ran down his right eye added a chilling touch to his already cold demeanor. Dressed in luxurious dark robes that flapped in the harsh wind, he was the very embodiment of menace.
Around him were the corpses of dozens of wild animals, little goblin-like monsters, and humans. There were burn marks, gashes, and shattered bones all over the bodies.
All the survivors backed away from him in fear, indicating that it was Kaldrik who was the cause of this mess.
He surveyed the area, a small smirk gracing his lips. While most saw destruction, he saw an opportunity.
His talent, [Elemental Mana Control], allowed him to feel and control mana and its various elements with unmatched proficiency.
He could bend the very elements to his will, creating rocks out of thin air, wind blades, or water shields with but a mere thought. His lineage, which his family believed could be traced back to an ancient mage from thousands of years ago, seemed to be proved true. He had certainly manifested the powers expected of an ancient mage’s bloodline.
In normal times, this was disregarded as nonsense, but when he awakened a talent that granted him immense control over this new energy, he could no longer call it the ramblings of the uneducated.
Born in a remote northern region known for its relentless winters and unforgiving terrain, he was raised amidst tales of powerful mages and warriors. As a child, the community had passed down all their teachings, wanting to awaken and bring forth the first mage in millennia. This was no surprise, considering his bloodline.
But as he grew older, his ambition grew as well. Unwilling to be tethered by familial bonds and traditions, Kaldrik betrayed his own family in pursuit of more power.
His insatiable thirst led him to explore the newfound dungeons. It was in these dark depths that he further honed his skills, mastering dark magic and developing an uncanny ability to navigate the dungeons using this power.
As he moved through the destroyed village, a group of survivors approached him, hope evident in their eyes. Perhaps they thought he'd be their savior.
Kaldrik, however, had other plans. He recognized the strong potential in some of them, their mana fluctuating in a way that indicated they might be of use.
In a voice as cold as the northern winds, he addressed them, "You may follow me if you wish to live. But know this – I will not tolerate weakness. Prove your worth, or perish."
Several among the group hesitated, fear evident in their eyes. But a good number stepped forward, ready to follow this enigmatic, powerful mage. They were desperate for a leader in these trying times, even if it came from someone as intimidating as Kaldrik.
He smirked, finding their desperation amusing. But he also recognized the value of having followers.
‘Every good ruler has peons to do his bidding. These wastrels will be the catapult that will set me above the rest.’ He thought, his mind already envisioning a glorious future.
Kaldrik observed the ragtag group that now followed him. Despite their poor appearance, they gave off an air of resiliency.
The early morning sun gleamed on the remnants of the destroyed village, its rays casting shimmering patterns on a partially destroyed car nearby. It was an older model, but it still looked functional. Walking over, Kaldrik examined it and, utilizing his [Elemental Mana Control], sent a jolt of electricity into the ignition.
In mere moments, the car's engine roared to life, stunning the group of survivors.
"Load whatever supplies you can find into this vehicle," Kaldrik commanded, and they scurried to do his bidding. Watching their hasty movements, his icy blue eyes glinted with amusement. The sensation of power was intoxicating, and every moment only made him crave it more.
As they loaded the car, Kaldrik closed his eyes to sense the mana in the air.
‘Let’s see… Which direction has the densest amount of mana?’ He questioned, feeling this omnipresent energy brush against his skin. From his experience since the beginning of the ‘apocalypse’, dungeons often have the densest mana.
If he could find another one, he could improve faster.
However, he couldn’t quite get an accurate read as the distance to the next dungeon seemed quite far.
‘A shame, but not unexpected.’ He thought, shaking his head. ‘But, I’ve heard that central Germany is a mess right now, so for now, I’ll just head in that direction and scope things out. I’ll run into a dungeon eventually.’
When the car was filled, he slipped into the driver's seat and gripped the steering wheel. Only then did he allow all his followers, whom he couldn’t be bothered to count, into his car. Then he took off, hardly allowing them to say goodbye to their families.
As they ventured further into central Germany, the landscape changed, becoming more rugged and mountainous. The Harz Mountains loomed in the distance, their peaks shrouded in low-altitude clouds. But what truly caught Kaldrik's attention was the palpable increase in the density of mana in the atmosphere. He could feel it tingling on his skin, beckoning him closer.
‘There must be a dungeon there.’ He thought with a smirk.
Several hours later, the sun hung high in the sky as the group made their way through a more forested area. The old, rugged car held as many supplies as it could bear, its engine grumbling and coughing as it struggled to navigate the uneven terrain.
He went as far as the roads could take him before, eventually, he was forced to park the car and continue on foot.
“Get out! We’re going to explore these mountains!” Kaldrik ordered, causing his followers to scramble out of the car, taking whatever supplies they could hold with them.
