No matter the world, the profession, or the species, things like "bottlenecks" truly existed.
Bottlenecks were usually discussed alongside talent and potential, because only those lacking talent or potential would end up trapped by them.
Many professionals became stuck at crucial thresholds like level 5, level 11, or level 17. No matter how desperately they trained or fought, they could not advance a single step further, wasting away their entire lives because of it.
Hard work certainly mattered, but only during certain stages. Once a person's potential was exhausted, relying on effort was less useful than gambling on luck.
If some big shot happened to take a liking to you, soaring into the sky in a single leap was not impossible.
Anser shook his head and stopped letting his thoughts wander. In any case, the one lacking talent was not him.
He was currently in excellent condition. Just as he was about to leave and continue exploring the mushroom forest, he suddenly remembered the deck of tarot cards he had thrown into the prison.
At that thought, he stepped forward, his body instantly appearing inside a blackstone prison cell. The floor was completely empty except for a single deck of tarot cards.
The bodies of the Warlock and his accomplices had long since been dealt with, and the spoils had all been neatly stored in his room. Only this item remained untouched, something he did not dare tamper with.
Previously, he had tried using Legend Lore to obtain information, but that spell still required a name or more detailed information as a lead. There were simply too many legends related to tarot cards, so the information he received had been extremely vague and largely meaningless.
Squatting on the ground, he locked his mind onto the deck.
The die spun for a long time. A full fifteen minutes passed before the target information finally appeared:
[Magic Item: Luba's Tarokka of Souls]
Category: Wondrous Item
Rarity: Artifact (Requires Attunement)
Not every soul lingering in the world is a tragic spirit lost on the road to the lands of the dead. Some souls lose their vitality and become prisoners; they are so wicked that mortals dare not release them into an unsuspecting afterlife.
This was an artifact created by Mother Luba. Using the threads of fate, she sealed certain supremely evil beings and imprisoned them within this Tarokka deck. These wicked souls are trapped within a lower-planar space hidden amid the shuffling and turning of the cards, silently waiting for the day fate itself becomes corrupted.
Like all Tarokka decks, the Tarokka of Souls consists of fifty-four beautifully illustrated cards, including fourteen High Deck cards and forty additional cards divided into four suits: Coins, Glyphs, Stars, and Swords.
…
Anser's nerves tightened as he carefully examined the properties of the artifact. The more he read, the more alarmed he became.
After a long while, he let out a helpless sigh. Most of the excitement in his heart faded away, leaving behind only faint disappointment.
This artifact possessed two beneficial properties and two detrimental properties, but he could not see them. Only after attuning to it would they become known.
The six detectable traits were: Spells, Enduring Vision, Twist of Fate, Prisoners of Fate, Reshuffle Fate, and Destroy Deck.
The most important among them was Twist of Fate: draw a card from the deck and weave the fate of a creature or magic item you can see, twice per day.
The actual strength of this ability was unknown, but if it was merely used to affect a minor Sorcerer's planar transfer and cause him to appear in a certain region, it was probably quite easy to accomplish.
'Impossible to guard against.' Anser sighed inwardly.
After being hunted down by that Warlock, he had considered countless possibilities, yet he had never imagined that his fate itself had already been woven by an artifact.
He considered himself cautious enough, but in the face of schemes on this level, there was simply no way to defend against them. It was not as though he could just hide inside his castle forever and never leave.
'Did he use Twist of Fate directly on me, or on the Deck of Many Things?'
Either possibility proved that the Traveler's Rest was not absolutely safe, and even the inn's Antimagic Field could neither detect nor block the overwhelming power of an artifact.
However, despite the artifact's immense power, it came with an extremely deadly side effect.
Prisoners of Fate: whenever you use the Twist of Fate trait, there is a chance that one of the imprisoned souls will escape. The released soul appears at a random location within 10d10 miles of you…
One had to remember that the supremely evil beings sealed within an artifact were all extraordinarily powerful—such as flaming skulls, death knights, mummy lords, and the like. Their Challenge Ratings generally exceeded 15, making them impossible to confront head-on.
That Warlock had likely used Twist of Fate deliberately inside the Traveler's Rest for the specific purpose of avoiding pursuit by those supremely evil entities. After all, that place was located in the Astral Plane. Even if one of those evil souls appeared near the Traveler's Rest, it would pose no threat to his safety.
The Tarokka deck originally contained fourteen High Deck cards, each imprisoning a supremely evil being. But now only six remained—less than half.
If all the remaining souls escaped, then this artifact would become nothing more than an ordinary deck of tarot cards.
'Once I grow strong enough, I can use it freely. Aren't those basically ready-made experience points?' he mused.
The reason he could not use it right now was because the moment one attuned to it, the artifact would forcibly compel its wielder to keep using it.
Shuffling Fate: if you do not use the Twist of Fate trait within seven days, your attunement to Luba's Tarokka of Souls ends, and you can never attune to it again.
'Powerful, dangerous, and kind of useless at the same time.' Anser picked up the tarot deck. It felt as cold as metal, yet possessed remarkable flexibility.
He stored Luba's Tarokka of Souls inside the Avaricious Dragonhide Pouch, with no intention of using it for the time being. Perhaps he would only consider attuning to it after reaching the pinnacle of professional ranks.
This thing was no joke. If a supremely evil entity with a Challenge Rating above 17 escaped, it would practically be a walking natural disaster. Towns along its path could vanish overnight.
'Let's head to the mushroom forest first.'
Anser went to the kitchen, grabbed a bucket of clean water and several towels, then activated the Rod of Security and returned to the Moonscar Basin within the Wood of Sharp Teeth.
At the moment, he still maintained his flying form, though aside from the dragon wings, the rest of his body remained humanoid, making him appear relatively natural.
He did not particularly like the way he looked with a tail, though he wondered whether Iris minded.
High in the sky, Iris was confronting several wyverns from afar.
The moment Anser emerged, she noticed him immediately and rode her flying carpet down beside him, narrowing her eyes as she carefully inspected his dragon wings from top to bottom.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk…" Her face was full of amazement as she gently touched the dragon wings, which resembled forged steel. "How rare. Three pairs of dragon wings—not only have I never seen something like this, I've never even heard of it."
"Now you've not only seen them, you've even gotten hands-on with them." Anser teased with a grin.
Dragon wings also possessed nerves and blood vessels, making them highly sensitive. Since it was Iris touching them, he did not mind. But if anyone else dared to grope them carelessly, he would shove an Otiluke's Freezing Sphere straight into their mouth.
"You're really strange." Iris withdrew her hand, her eyes carrying a trace of confusion.
Anser's condition was truly unheard of—neither entirely human nor entirely dragon, with a completely unpredictable path of growth.
"A mutant dragon, I guess~" Anser raised an eyebrow. Forget Iris, even he had no idea what his future would look like.
Games and reality were two entirely different things. In games, you could simply copy another person's character build. But now he could only rely on instinct; there was no such thing as a standard answer.
"How many adventurers went down?" he asked, changing the subject as he looked toward the adventurers gathered around the pit below. There were far fewer than before, only seven or eight remaining.
"Two teams went down. Seven people in total. A few others headed east too, probably planning to return to Durlag's Tower to report the news." Iris pursed her lips, her tone somewhat displeased.
It was not that her desire for control was excessive. Even strictly calculating according to exploration discoveries and combat contributions, the two of them should have possessed absolute authority over the situation.
Those adventurers were somewhat ungrateful—calling for reinforcements and heading down ahead of everyone else without the slightest sense of rules.
"Only natural. Sergei warned me about it beforehand, and I didn't object." Anser grinned, unconcerned. "When it comes to exploration, both strength and luck are indispensable."
Even if they found something valuable, those people might not recognize its worth anyway. And with just a little money, wouldn't it still end up in his hands in the end?
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