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Sustaining The King's Life 119 The First Level

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"How dare that son of a . . ."

Anakin Disfiegro a.s.sessed himself. He took a deep breath and then tried to calm his nerves. A mere commoner shouldn't be able to get into him. Their ranks literally meant heaven and earth. He stopped himself shortly from speaking as he felt anger rising in the depths of his very being. That Leviticus—he was simply getting fool of himself. Anakin a.s.sured his heart that he shouldn't get swayed by that filth.

Mages born as commoners are what you can call weaklings. They were fortunate enough to have been granted a mana that they can convert into ordnances, but that doesn't put them on the same page as n.o.bles. n.o.bles were of high stature. Once they get their magician licenses, they can apply in the palaces, The Court, and even The Council. Whereas commoners—huh. Anakin doesn't give a d.a.m.n about whatever profession they would see fit. But he was certain that it won't be higher than any of the n.o.bles. Even a baron.

Anakin rarely had to deal with people like this, much less interact with commoners. He was raised in the Disfiegro household and had only met those who were of equal standing as their own. He was an elite. He shouldn't step up low to that filth's level.

And peculiarly enough, Anakin remembers his eldest brother at this certain time. His brother Ruenti. He was the pride of the family, a graduate of the second Ianua. Ruenti was born strong and healthy, he was also smart and talented growing up. Unlike Anakin who was born premature and weak. The two of them were often compared, but Anakin carried no remorse over his brother. In fact, he wanted to be like him. No, scratch that. He wanted to be better than him.

Anakin took a deep breath before he conjured a smile. "So where were we?"

"Well, we're still here." Says one of the students. "Should we follow them?"

"Follow them?"

"To the secret door."

Anakin laughed loudly. "Huh? No."

"Why?"

"Well, for one, we don't know where it's heading!" Anakin exclaimed. "It could be a trap, for all we know."

"Well, he's right."

"We're going to the main entrance," says Anakin. "Trust me. We n.o.bles, will all pa.s.s this test with my help."

**

The Dark Castle wasn't like the one in Feuersturm. It was shawled in dark vines and was unkempt. There were bones of dogs and various animals lying on the floor, with the puddle of soot in the halls. They had taken the entrance to the castle's main wing, with them being welcomed by the great hall. The castle itself looked architecturally wrong, its place warped and odd. It had doors that one can open but there was nothing but darkness and the grimy waters below to welcome you, and even windows on top of the ceilings.

It created a feeling of discomfort to anyone—even the slightest sound had alerted the group. The only light that sufficed the whole vicinity was the lights emanating from their staves. It was a good thing to come in a group because one staff could only light up what was ahead at a limited spectrum—and completely leave out what was behind.


"This is . . ." Anakin stopped to his tracks, making the whole group stop as well, including Faustina.

"What is it, Anakin?" Asked one of the n.o.bles, walking to Anakin's side. Her eyes widened as she sees the door.

"The Mirror of Truth?" She reads, and then her eyes see what Anakin was looking at. "the first level of the dungeon . . . ?"

"Jackpot," Anakin exclaimed.

"Whoa, did she just say the first level of the dungeon?"

"So it was here?"

"Then it's just right that we followed Anakin!"

Faustina found Anakin's eyes—he was looking at her. He then proceeded to smile.

"Are you feeling unwell, Lady Feuerlon?"

Faustina blinked. "I-I'm fine."

He ambled towards her and wrapped an arm. "Are you sure you're okay? You can be with me if you're unwell."

"That's so sweet of you, Anakin," says one of the n.o.bles.

���Well, I've heard that Lady Feuerlon's youngest daughter has a . . . declining health. So I want to help her pa.s.s the exams."

Faustina did not know how to feel. She was in another n.o.ble's arms, which shouldn't be what you can call appropriate given the fact that he wasn't even acquainted with her.

"I'm quite alright, Lord Anakin," Faustina says politely, pushing Anakin. "My health has been improving. I think I can handle the exam my own."

**

Anakin had thought about Lilliane, his sister, about her tactics. She wasn't bright nor was she graceful. The only redeeming quality about her is that she knew how to use her pretty face and her ranks. She was able to climb as far as being a queen candidate, but also managed to fool around with the son of the schoolmistress, Ezekiel Unsterblich.

Anakin thought about using that kind of audacity to the youngest daughter of the duke, Faustina Feuerlon. She looked plain and gloomy, but she was undeniably beautiful. Although she wasn't Anakin's type, he still tried to make his moves.

Only to fail.

She obviously rejected him in front of everybody.

Anakin smiled, but he wanted to rip her to shreds. Did she just deny his kindness?

After evoking a smile as a response, Anakin sauntered back to the door and opened it without any second thought. And then—

"What in the world—"

"Aah!"

A magical circle appeared into the floor they were stepping into, and then as the light from the hex gleamed brightly, the floor vanished as the students fell into what seemed like an upside-down chamber filled with mirrors. The group landed on the ceiling, with the upside-down floor above them.

Faustina slowly rose as her eyes behold the spectacle, her reflection at every angle was embedded in every mirror.

THUD. THUD. THUD.

The ground reverberated and quaked as Faustina and the group slowly turned towards the source of the footsteps heavily thumping to the ground.

And appearing before all of them was an enormous cyclops, holding a morning star to his shoulder. Its eye peered down to them.

"Run." Anakin murmured.

"GRAAAWWW!!!!!!" the monster howled loudly as it swung its morning star down in front of them.

"RUN!"


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Sustaining The King's Life 119 The First Level summary

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