Chapter 70: Path to Ascension - Step 2 |
Allen stood atop the mast, not to show off, but to review the newly unlocked main quest.
[Main Quest Two Triggered: Path to Ascension]
[You have successfully raised one attribute above 35 points. This is a domain unreachable by mortals, the starting point on the road to the divine realm, the insurmountable chasm between the mortal and the divine.
Continue your efforts. Raise one attribute to 40 points, and you will touch the threshold of the gods, perceiving the existence of a higher dimension.]
[At the same time, true deities tolerate no weaknesses. Before stepping into the divine realm, you must first forge a vessel capable of bearing divine power.]
[Quest Objective: Raise any one attribute to 40 points; Raise all attributes to 25 points.]
[Quest Reward: Obtain a divine shard, increase divine rank by 1 level, obtain 2 divine-level traits.]
Ascend to godhood... huh?
Allen’s gaze lingered on those words for a long time.
Completing this quest would let him take the first step.
Becoming a demigod.
He still had 6 Free Attribute Points. The closest to 40 was, of course, his Charisma attribute, which sat at 36.
But the system also reminded Allen that before truly stepping into the domain of the gods, he needed to forge a vessel capable of bearing divine power.
With that in mind, he decided to use the remaining 6 attribute points to shore up his weakest link.
[Strength: 14 → Strength: 20] (Since when does a mage not work out?)
The moment Strength hit 20, Allen felt a scalding hot current surge through every limb and joint in his body.
It felt as if his body was being kneaded, forged, and reshaped by an invisible hand, power rushing through his veins like molten lava.
His body swayed uncontrollably for a moment.
From below, the master standing atop the mast suddenly looked like he had stumbled, nearly falling off.
"The master has exhausted his magic! He can't get down!"
On the deck, Paval, who had been craning his neck to look up at him, looked around anxiously, grabbing a coil of rope from the ship's railing.
"Mr. Prestor! Catch!"
He threw the rope forcefully toward the mast, and it hung down, swaying unsteadily.
Allen was still immersed in the afterglow of that surging power. He turned his head and saw a coarse rope resting on the mast, swaying in the wind.
He looked down.
On the deck, Paval was looking up, making frantic gestures at him with a face full of worry.
Allen was silent for a moment.
A flash of white light.
He was already standing on the deck, face to face with Paval.
"Thank you." He nodded, his tone flat.
-----------------
The next day.
The fires in the harbor and the city had all been extinguished, but the scars left by the catastrophe of the previous night were still jarring.
The docks were a charred wasteland. The remains of a few ships were still smoking, and shattered wooden crates and scorched ropes were scattered everywhere.
The entire city was bustling. Soldiers were clearing debris, craftsmen were urgently repairing ships, priests were tending to the wounded, and some were searching through the ruins for the missing.
Inside the security office.
Count Bertol’s face was ashen as he furiously reamed out Edmund Vester, not giving him a moment's respite.
The old general stood in silence, never uttering a word of rebuttal.
Captain Daelin impatiently tapped the table, interrupting his tirade.
"The most important thing now is: what do we do next?"
His fleet’s flagship was damaged, and two battleships had suffered severe losses, but at least they hadn’t sunk. The escort frigates, however, were nearly wiped out. Sunk, burned, or barely functional—only a few were still operational.
Paval stood up and said in a grave voice, "The top priority is to safely deliver Miss Jaina to Dalaran."
He turned to Allen, his eyes earnest.
"Mr. Prestor, since the remnants of the Horde intend to seize the ships, it’s actually more dangerous for the young lady to stay with the fleet. I beg you, take the young lady overland and get to Dalaran as quickly as possible."
Allen looked at him, silently complaining in his mind.
You really know how to pick a place.
In fact, Dalaran was the most dangerous place of all, because it would be the next target of an attack. There were three artifacts in total, and as he traveled north, he had run into every single one—though most encounters were by his own doing.
He shook his head. "I can take Jaina overland first, but what about Menethil Harbor?"
Everyone was taken aback.
"Last night, I only managed to drive away that adult black dragon using special means. They want to seize the ships to search for Sargeras’s scepter out on the sea. This time they failed, and we’ve suffered heavy losses..."
His gaze swept across everyone present.
"They will definitely come back."
Count Bertol’s face turned ashen white. He opened his mouth, his voice carrying a slight tremor. "D-don’t... don’t come back. Can’t we just hand it over to them?"
Captain Daelin snapped his head around and glared at him fiercely.
At that moment, General Vester also spoke up awkwardly, "Daelin, I have to tell you some bad news. A while ago, a bunch of damn Dark Iron dwarves blew up the Thandol Span. This isn’t the first time they’ve done it. We’re trying to figure out how to retake the Thandol Span, but even if we do, rebuilding will take time. So, for now, the overland route is..."
Just then, Jaina spoke up,
"Then I’ll take the ship. As long as there are no ships left in Menethil Harbor, they won’t invade this city again. Besides, even if the warships stay in the harbor, it won’t be safe. It’s better to get them moving; we can still fight. Mr. Prestor, this journey might be dangerous. I have no right to ask you to come with me."
Allen glanced at her.
Captain Daelin seemed to have made up his mind:
"In that case, we need to move fast. We set sail today. They’ll need time to regroup and make new plans. They might expect us to be busy repairing the ships, but we’ll do the opposite and set sail directly."
His fingertip traced an invisible route across the table.
"By the time they realize there are no ships in Menethil Harbor, they’ll probably think we’ve sailed for Kul Tiras to seek reinforcements or flee. But we’ll go against that expectation and stick to the original plan of heading to Southshore."
"Once Miss Jaina disembarks at Southshore, the enemy, after failing to find a route to Kul Tiras, will inevitably turn to other sea lanes. By then, we’ll sail back to Kul Tiras."
He paused, a hint of pride showing on his face.
"Yesterday we were caught off guard. But out on the open sea, I’m not necessarily afraid of them!"
Allen nodded. "The Horde’s small boats definitely won’t be able to catch up. The only thing to watch out for is the black dragon. At worst, I’ll just drive him away again."
The meeting concluded, and everyone agreed to the plan. The people of Menethil Harbor, of course, wanted to see this plague ship leave as soon as possible.
Allen and the others prepared to return to the inn to pack their belongings and board the ship as soon as possible.
As they were leaving the security office, Count Bertol pulled Allen aside.
Count Bertol squeezed out a fawning smile, pulled a bulging pouch of gemstones from his pocket, and pressed it into Allen’s hand.
"Master Prestor..." His voice was very low. "If the opportunity arises in the future, I hope you can put in a good word for me in front of your esteemed father."
Allen looked down at the pouch of gemstones, then up at this loathsome man.
He had seen the grandest mansion at the highest point of Menethil Harbor. This cowardly, bloodsucking, exploitative, capitulationist noble... just moments ago, he had overheard Count Bertol discussing with his attendants how to swiftly seize the land deeds of all the families that had been tentatively listed as all missing.
And now, at a time like this, he was thinking of handing over money.
Allen took the pouch of gemstones with a beaming smile.
"It’s not really appropriate for me to make an introduction. In fact, I’m an illegitimate child. He doesn’t like me. It’s best if you don’t mention me in front of him."
Count Bertol’s face stiffened, and he very much wanted to take the gemstone pouch back.
"But I can point you in the right direction. Lord Daval hates black dragons the most. Next time you get a chance to see him—"
Allen leaned in closer, lowering his voice:
"You can brag about how you killed two black dragons right here in Menethil Harbor."