I'm Really Not a Paladin

The experience gained from the two Amnians was a bit meager, but since he had merely been finishing them off to steal the kills, he couldn't really ask for much more.

"Why didn't I level up?"

He hadn't been able to keep track of his experience during the heat of battle, but Anse remembered he hadn't been far from the next level.

He sank his consciousness into his mind, where the silver D20 spun gently, its third symbol now glowing with full intensity.

I suppose I shouldn't be too timid, he thought, his spirits lifting.

He tapped open his Character Sheet; his experience sat at 2596/2700. He was only a hundred or so points shy of leveling up.

"Ugh, this... it's so close yet so far."

He steadied his emotions; now was not the time to dwell on such things.

Without wasting a moment, he rode around the lake, wrapped every piece of loot that caught his eye in linen, returned to the camp, packed up the three tents, and tossed them haphazardly onto his horse's back.

Then, he mounted Noronos and galloped eastward.

He didn't go into the water to search for potential loot; who knew what might be lurking in the lake?

Ten minutes later, a few lights appeared ahead, where dozens of dejected figures were huddled together, the sound of sobbing drifting over from time to time.

Anse scanned the group; they weren't all there. Perhaps a few had been separated.

Brat and the others heard the hoofbeats and hurried over to meet him.

"Are you hurt?" Brat saw the items on the horse's back and knew a battle must have taken place.

"I'm fine." Anse vaulted off the horse and unloaded the pile of goods.

Emon saw the tents and his spirits lifted. "Are the undead all gone?"

"As far as I can tell, yes. There isn't a living soul left by the lake," Anse said, his words carrying a double meaning.

"Please, help us keep watch while we pack up our things," Emon requested.

Without those tents and supplies, these dozens of people likely wouldn't last long.

"No problem. Be quick; we need to leave as soon as possible," Anse urged.

"I understand."

Emon immediately gathered the able-bodied men to head back along the original path, and Brat went along to help.

Fortunately, it wasn't far, so it wouldn't take too long.

Anse didn't go; he had already done enough by acting as a scout and covering their retreat.

If not for his connection to Brat, he might not have helped at all.

Of course, there was a mix of selfishness and greed involved; he was a normal person, after all, and being greedy and fearful was only natural.

Human nature was complex and contradictory.

He found a quiet spot, leaned back against Noronos's leg, and sank his consciousness into his mind.

The silver D20 spun gently, its third symbol glowing with full intensity.

What will it be this time? He was filled with anticipation.

He tapped the die, and fragments of memory surfaced in his mind: the battle, the rescue, the mount, the encounter...

A moment later, the symbol transformed into a complex, spherical mark.

Ding—

[You have gained the Adventure Trait: Arcana Resonance.]

"Arcana Resonance": Magic brings both destruction and rebirth; there are always some beings who receive the favor of magic.

Choose one from Abjuration, Divination, Evocation, Illusion, Conjuration, Enchantment, Necromancy, or Transmutation. You gain one additional spell of that school per class level, provided the spell level does not exceed your current maximum spellcasting capacity.

"An extra spell every level?!" Anse's eyes widened.

Although the spell school was restricted, it was still incredibly powerful, greatly compensating for the Sorcerer class's lack of spells.

Spells were the core of a spellcaster; the more spells one had, the more ways one had to deal with difficulties or dangers.

"What should I choose?"

The eight schools of magic each had their strengths, but the only one that truly resonated with him was the Evocation School.

Evocation spells were the most numerous, and his Dragon Bloodline provided an Elemental Affinity that could significantly boost the power of his Evocation spells.

This way, he could master two spells every time he leveled up—one from the Evocation School and one from another—giving him a much richer repertoire.

After he confirmed his choice with a thought, the spherical mark burst open, transforming into a tangible orb of energy where various elements surged and churned.

[Arcana Resonance: Evocation. You have gained Evocation Spell Mastery.]

"Spell Mastery." His heart skipped a beat as he carefully savored the term.

It was likely some form of passive ability; perhaps it would make using Evocation spells more fluid and intuitive. He would have to explore its specific effects slowly over time.

"Now, which spell should I choose?"

He tapped the orb of elemental energy, and dozens of elemental sprites leaped out, colorful and dancing gracefully around his consciousness.

Every elemental spirit represented a spell, including all first and second-level spells from the Evocation School.

He was currently level 3, which allowed him to choose three spells.

There were about a dozen second-level Evocation spells, so the selection pool wasn't very large. After a moment of consideration, he chose "Scorching Ray."

Scorching Ray required no material components and had a base range of 120 feet (≥36 meters), which exceeded 72 meters with the bonuses from his attributes and feats.

It could fire three rays of flame at one or more targets, with each ray dealing 2d6 (2-12) points of fire damage; three rays meant 6-36, which was quite brutal.

Most importantly, the trajectory of ray-type spells was ridiculously fast; as long as one aimed accurately, it was difficult for enemies to dodge.

In Faerun, there were mages who specialized in ray spells—a niche path, but a very troublesome one to deal with.

After he made his selection, most of the elemental spirits around him dissipated, leaving only the first-level spells.

It seems I can't cheat. He had been wondering if he could pick three second-level spells.

After a moment of thought, he chose "Faerie Fire" and "Divine Smite."

The former was a spell for Bards and Druids, while the latter was the signature skill of a Paladin.

The vast majority of the Evocation School consisted of offensive spells, and Faerie Fire was a rare utility spell.

It could cast a Mana Aura covering 20 feet (≥6 meters), outlining every object in the area with colored light for one minute, and the affected objects and creatures would emit dim light in a 10-foot radius.

This was an anti-stealth spell that added magical markers, making it highly practical.

As for Divine Smite, it went without saying; it was illustrious.

It was instantaneous, applied to a melee weapon or one's body, and added 2d8 (2-16) points of radiant damage to an attack. If the target was a Fiendish creature or an undead, the damage increased by 1d8 (1-8).

His "stealing" of this skill wasn't out of some perverse hobby, nor was it to impersonate a Paladin, but rather to compensate for his own incompetence in melee combat.

He had Polymorph; if he were to imbue his claws with Divine Smite, an average assassin wouldn't be able to withstand more than a few hits from him.

The thought of that scene was quite amusing.

Besides, his first-level attack spells were sufficient, so what harm could there be in experimenting?

As he confirmed with his intent, the mana around his body surged incessantly, and his eyes shimmered with various hues of light.

Fragments of knowledge and memories regarding Evocation spells surged through his mind, and realizations welled up like a spring. While he couldn't fully comprehend the principles and Arcana behind these spells, he could use them proficiently.

After a long while, he raised his right hand, and platinum-colored holy mana emerged from his palm. Judging by the color, it was different from Land's Divine Smite.

This was normal; Paladins of different oaths or faiths imbued their Divine Smite with unique colors.

"I've become stronger again. Should I find time to learn swordsmanship from Brat?"

Many feats and skills could be mastered through training and study. A Sorcerer had plenty of time, but it was best to have a professional teach him; self-study was prone to bad habits, which were more troublesome to correct later.