Mage Tank

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SYSTEM ADDENDUM ADDED BY USER NAME: [ERROR: REDACTED]

ADDENDUM NOTE: 5 months before the awakening of the first monolith

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Tavio examined the walls of the Imperial Palace with fascination. He had never before been inside the splendorous halls, decorated with art and material from across the empire.

The palace had been altered on multiple occasions, sometimes being essentially rebuilt. Whenever a new province was incorporated into the empire, the Imperial Assembly commissioned the greatest artists, architects, and engineers from that province to create an addition to the palace, spanning its great lengths. Tavio studied each of the features in detail, watching them weave together an intricate mural dedicated to the empire’s long history.

The stone itself was from Litta, sanded to geometric perfection, and providing a foundation for all that would come after it. Finely polished marble floors and pillars supported the structure, donated by the masons’ guild of Connas after it became the first province of Litta following the liberation.

Large stained glass windows blown in Seaward added vibrant colors to the interior lighting. Massive tapestries woven in silk from Dhonvos hung from the ceiling, depicting momentous occasions throughout the empire’s past; the one opposite the hall from Tavio showed the Littan army battling back the monsters of the Forest. Appropriately, magical plants from Nohrrin grew behind the tapestry and along the palace walls, providing fresh air and soothing light to the grand hallway.

Flawless gemstones from Tavio’s home province of Seqaria accented huge statues forged by the master bronze workers of Lotor, one for each emperor dating back to the liberation of Connas. The ceiling featured detailed paintings of legend and folklore by Echimara Yokotana, one of the greatest painters of all time, with lush pigments derived from her native province of Ginso. The painting above Tavio showed Yara returning to Arzia, granting her blessing to all below. He noted that the colors of the painting blended seamlessly with the tapestry, making it appear as though the Littan soldiers battling the Forest were surrounded by holy light. The towering roof itself was carved with intricate reliefs by the wood workers of Bavecira, renowned for their unmatched craftsmanship.

Everywhere he looked, Tavio saw history unfolding before his eyes, with some of the most beautiful and masterful artwork the world had ever seen. Not even the Delver artists could match the majesty of this place, but how could they? The palace was a testament to civilization itself, bearing the might and glory of a combined people, transcending any one individual no matter how gifted. The symbol of community, driven to benefit all the world. That was something you couldn’t match with any active skill or attribute evolution.

“Her Imperial Majesty will see you now,” said a Littan aid, who had approached from down the hall. Tavio reeled himself back from the wonder of the palace artwork and stood, making one last inspection of his finest robes for any hint of dirt, debris, or imperfection. He ran his hand down the front of his apparel to smooth it as much as possible, taking special care to fold the red sash of his military position neatly, then nodded and followed the aid back into the palace interior.

He passed by many more tapestries, windows, and paintings of various events and lamented he had not the time to appreciate them all. As he came upon a set of large double doors guarded by two level 21 Delvers, the aid motioned for him to stop.

“Tavio of Seqaria to see Empress Rona,” said the aid. The two soldiers looked at Tavio, or more precisely, above Tavio’s head. After a quick glance, one nodded then opened the door. The aid gestured for Tavio to enter, and so he did.

Inside was a foyer of sorts, with a lit fireplace, soft down couch, and a fine mahogany table. Opposite the entrance was another door, which was closed. The door Tavio entered was shut behind him, and he looked around the room which had nary a sound save for the soft crackle of the logs as they burned heat and light into the space. Unsure of what to do next, he sat upon the couch and interlaced his fingers.

Several moments passed by as Tavio contemplated the upcoming conversation. Personal meetings with the Empress were unheard of at his station, typically given only to senior members of the Assembly or dukes of significant influence, not mid-level captains early in their career.

The far door opened and an exceptionally lithe and toned Littan peered out, dressed in high quality but plain robes with only an indigo sash to belie her status.

“Captain Tavio?” asked the empress.

“Yes,” he said, suddenly standing. “I mean, yes, your Imperial Majesty.”

The empress smiled warmly and beckoned him to follow her through the door, to which he complied with all the grace he could muster. The interior room was not like Tavio imagined; it was littered with stacks of papers, scrolls, maps, and books, even some stone slabs Tavio recognized as summoning tablets. Various ink wells of different colors sat atop an equally varied number of parchments, from missives to ledgers to journals. While not exactly a mess, the decor was far less pristine than Tavio had anticipated. The empress held out her hand towards a chair opposite a large desk she then sat behind.

Tavio took his seat, then sat still, waiting for whatever it was the empress had summoned him to talk about. However, she sat still for what seemed like minutes, as though they were in some sort of contest. Unable to help himself, he examined her form, which was completely symmetrical, with an impeccable complexion, finely trimmed fur, and not a single blemish to be found.

He could bear the silence no longer, and so asked her the most pressing question he now had.

“Excuse me, your Majesty,” he said, “but you are a Delver, are you not?”

The empress tilted her head and furrowed her brow.

“What makes you say that?” she replied. The response was reasonable; she had no level above her head, no particular aura, and no magical effects Tavio could detect. But still, no one’s body was that perfect by nature alone.

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“Forgive me, your Majesty,” he said, “but I have never seen any natural-born Littan so free of imperfections. Only a Delver’s body is so precise.”

“Are you saying I was born unnaturally?” asked the empress.

“No! No,” stammered Tavio. “That’s... I mean to say, you should not have so fine a bod-... ah...” Tavio felt his Wisdom finally kick in and he clamped his mouth shut, sweat beginning to bead around his muzzle. His eyes darted to anywhere but hers, as the world fell beneath him and an abyss of insurmountable impropriety threatened to swallow him whole.

She held up a hand and chuckled.

“It’s fine,” she said, “it’s alright. I’m just twitching your whiskers. Yes, I am a Delver, your observation and intuition are correct. Impressive, considering the System could not have told you that.”

Tavio shuffled in his chair, whiskers-a-twitching. It was a bad habit of his, revealing uncertainty. He was not much of a card player.

“Yes, well,” said Tavio, “I have learned there is a flaw in relying too much on the System.”

“Indeed,” said the empress. “Very much so. From what I hear, that lesson was hard-won by you.”

Tavio looked to the desk and stared into an unknown distance. The empress sat calmly, waiting for him to respond. He took the opportunity to consider his words more carefully.

“My eagerness may have blinded me to certain truths that would have been more obvious had I not been so single-minded in the pursuit of Delving,” he finally said.

“Perhaps,” said the empress, “but you have much to show for your tenacity. You immediately detected I was a Delver by appearance alone.”

“You honor me,” said Tavio, “but that is apparent to any who know what to look for.”

“No, it isn’t,” she retorted. “Not one person I have ever met with, Delver or otherwise, has had any such suspicion. They don’t see a number above my head and so dismiss the possibility.”

“I must admit,” said Tavio, “I have never heard of any item, evolution, or passive that hides Delver status, and I have researched such things thoroughly.”

“I’m afraid I can’t let you in on that secret just yet,” said the empress. The “just yet” perked Tavio’s ears, but he dared not pursue it. “But your remarkable talent for Delving is well-received. In fact, I don’t know of anyone more knowledgeable on the topic than you. Even the Hiwardians lack the depth of knowledge you possess for they are too caught up in their family politics and secrets to take Delving so seriously.”

“I am humbled by your words,” said Tavio, “but I do not understand why Her Imperial Majesty would take such an interest in me to come to such conclusions.”

“Why not?” she asked.

Tavio did not have an answer other than that he was not terribly notable. His whiskers twitched again and he looked to the floor, running his fingers down his robes that now looked shockingly inadequate for the position in which he found himself, sitting across from the empress in her personal study.

“To be frank,” said Tavio, “I am just a level 17 gold Delver, your Majesty. I worry that the actions of my former teammate and the incident at the blockade are what brings me to your attention.”

“Yaretzi,” said the empress. “Yes, he was an interesting experiment, albeit a failed one.”

“His build was most unusual,” said Tavio.

“That’s not what I meant,” said the empress. “Yaretzi was part of a now-defunct program which aimed to create ideal Littan commanders. He was the prototype for a particular Creation process we have learned to exploit, at least to some degree. Needless to say, after learning of his actions, we have declared the project a total failure.”

Tavio didn’t know what to make of that. He certainly was not aware of such a program, but he was also fairly certain the duchess didn’t know about it either. When it came to her party members, she was very forthcoming with information, even of the secret kind.

“But,” the empress continued, “his actions were his own. That is not why I asked to see you today.”

She turned and reached to a shelf behind her, pulling a leather-bound book before turning back and setting it on the desk. She opened the cover and flipped through a few pages before settling on some of the text. Tavio recognized the handwriting as belonging to his party leader.

“You joined Duchess Ruiz’s party at level 7,” said the empress. It was true. “You were awarded an achievement at level 8 for taking less than 5% of your maximum HP in damage during the course of an entire gold-level Delve. At level 9, another achievement for blocking more damage than the rest of the party took combined. Also at level 9, for defeating the Moray Kaijun Delve boss ‘in record time dating back 10 generations,’ according to the System text.”

Tavio shifted in his seat. The accolades sounded impressive even to him when read one after the other like that, but he still lacked any major accomplishments for the Empire.

“This is quite the list,” said the empress. “It goes on for another two pages. As far as I can tell, you have more achievements than anyone in the empire, and as you say, you’re ‘just a level 17 gold.’”

Tavio sat still, unsure where this was going. He had so many questions, such as why the empress had a journal from Duchess Isabel detailing his personal accomplishments, or why the duchess would keep such a journal in the first place. Did she keep similar journals for Narisa, Yaretzi, or Gharifon?

“No,” said the empress. “You left a singular impression in Duchess Isabel. She has been taking special note of your actions, citing multiple times your valor, talent, and will to succeed.”

Tavio’s cheeks flushed. Could the empress read his mind?

“Yes,” said the empress. “It is a useful skill, especially when no one knows you have it. Still, it is better to talk out loud. Speaking has a way of bringing clarity to thought.”

“Your Majesty,” said Tavio, “I do not know why you are telling me so many things. Such secrets are valuable, and I should not be privy to them. I am becoming a security risk, and I worry what that means for my future, and the future of your Majesty’s rule.”

The empress smiled again, with an appraising warmth.

“You are wiser even than your stats would indicate,” she said, “and your loyalty is firm. Truly, a platinum Delver if there ever was one.”

Tavio’s eyes shifted down and to the right.

“You grace me with your compliments,” he said. “I only wish I could live up to them.”

“You can,” she said. Tavio looked back to her, raising an eyebrow.

“Your Majesty?”

“Yaretzi was not the only experimental program we have undertaken. Some very clever minds in our Delver Research Division have come up with an interesting solution to elevating levels without completing additional Delves, up to a point. Effectively, the process can turn Delves completed in one difficulty to a higher one, say, gold to platinum, along with all the attribute points such an increase would provide.”

Tavio leaned forward, momentarily forgetting his etiquette.

“It is a long and grueling ordeal that only becomes more difficult as a Delver increases in level. So far, all attempts have failed, resulting in the deaths of the participants. However, I think where others fell short, you can soar. If that is what you want, of course.”

“Your Majesty,” said Tavio, “that is... that is a tremendous boon. I am not deserving of such an outrageous gift!”

“There it is,” said the empress. “I tell you of a highly experimental procedure that has killed everyone who attempted it so far, and your first thought is how great the potential can be. I do believe you will make a fine addition.”

“Addition to what, your Majesty?” asked Tavio.

“My party.”

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