Another day in my paradise of sarcasm. I had reached the milestone of being old enough to eat the green mush my mother prepared for me. Yay—pre-chewed food. What’s next? Straight-up poison? Okay, maybe I was exaggerating, but that green concoction was objectively the worst thing I had ever tasted.
How do you even turn food into that? Even zucchini tasted better, and I used to hate zucchini. Heck, I’d take kale at this point—and kale was basically leaves masquerading as food. I sighed internally. I miss you, sweet, sweet ribs. I projected the thought toward Zotherg, hoping for sympathy.
I heard him scoff in my mind but got no further reply. It seemed the old mountain spirit was in a mood. I poked and prodded him mentally for a while before realizing he wasn’t ignoring me out of grumpiness—he was distracted.
“Zotherg?” I called out.
“...Yes, what do you need, my lord?” His voice was distant, almost dismissive.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, concern creeping into my tone. “You’re clearly worried. Don’t try to hide it.”
There was a pause. Earth elementals, it seemed, liked to take their time—or were naturally lazy. Perhaps both. Finally, Zotherg replied.
“There is a strong demonic beast that has entered my territory,” he said gravely. “It has figured out that I am stalling for time, and it is strong enough to be a real challenge for your village.”
A cold sweat ran down my little spine. An enemy is coming for me, and I’m still powerless.
I quickly opened my status screen, hoping for a miracle. But nothing had changed. My stats were still pitiful, and I had no way to gauge the strength of my enemies. Zotherg could only give rough level estimates—he couldn’t identify species, talents, or skills.
If only I had a way to analyze enemies, I thought bitterly. But according to Zotherg, no such skill or talent existed. The best skills could offer were basic names or levels. That was when a light bulb went off in my head.
If it doesn’t exist, why can’t I create it?
I had already created my [Soul Vortex], a completely unique skill. Why not take another leap? Determined, I decided to develop a skill from scratch.
I noticed a small beetle crawling near the edge of the tent. Staring at it yielded no results, so I focused inward. My soul is stronger than most, I reasoned. Maybe that’s the key. Closing my eyes, I imagined my senses extending outward, like invisible tendrils reaching for the beetle.
It worked.
I felt the beetle’s life force, faint but distinct. A prompt followed, though it wasn’t what I had been hoping for.
<hr>
Skill Created: [Soul Detect]
<ul>
<li>Detects beings with souls and their locations.</li>
<li>Can measure the strength of a being’s life force and other forces affecting their soul.</li>
</ul>
<hr>
“Well, it’s not useless,” I muttered, “but it’s not exactly what I wanted either.” At least I’d know when the beast approached, though I still wouldn’t know how strong it was.
Frustrated but undeterred, I returned my focus to the beetle, experimenting for what felt like twenty minutes. Slowly, an idea began to take shape. What I truly wanted was a status screen for my enemies—something akin to my own system interface.The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
If all beings have a status menu, why can only the user see it?
The answer had to lie within the soul itself. Zotherg had once mentioned that even spirits had status screens, so it wasn’t limited to physical bodies. The system must be connected to the soul.
I activated [Soul Detect] on myself, searching for anything unusual. My soul appeared as a swirling vortex of golden rings, spinning and intertwining like a vast clockwork mechanism. At its center was a brilliant, sun-like light—exactly how my traits had described it.
As I shifted my focus outward, I noticed a smaller, glowing blue orb orbiting the core of my soul like a moon circling a star.
I reached for the orb with my being, instinctively grasping it. Information flooded into my mind, confirming my suspicion: the blue orb was my interface with the system. My status prompt appeared without me summoning it.
<hr>
Name: Juren Knollen
Age: 1 Year
Level: 0
Traits:
<ul>
<li>Elven Swiftness</li>
<li>Elven Talent</li>
<li>Elven Longevity</li>
<li>Elven Spirit</li>
<li>Soul Memory</li>
<li>Simultaneous Thinking</li>
<li>Chosen</li>
<li>Soul Vortex</li>
</ul>
HP: 5
MP: 3000
MP Regen: 240/min
Stats:
<ul>
<li>Strength: 0.3</li>
<li>Endurance: 0.3</li>
<li>Agility: 3 (0.3 x 10)</li>
<li>Intelligence: 30</li>
<li>Wisdom: 24</li>
<li>Charisma: 1 (+50)</li>
<li>Constitution: 0.3</li>
</ul>
<hr>
The only difference was a new line under my name: Age: 1 Year.
I winced at the reminder that my mother had breastfed me for an entire year. The truth hurts, I thought, resisting the urge to mentally shout “Objection!” at the universe. With a resigned sigh, I moved on.
Having verified the blue orb’s purpose, I turned my attention back to the beetle—only to find it gone. In its place was a small lizard, chewing on what I assumed was the beetle’s leg.
I frowned, mildly irritated, but decided the lizard would suffice. Activating [Soul Detect], I focused on the blue orb within its soul. This time, two prompts appeared.
<hr>
Skill Created: [Soul Hack]
<ul>
<li>Allows the user to touch, affect, or modify a soul directly.</li>
<li>Opponents with strong souls are immune. Backlash can be severe.</li>
</ul>
Skill Created: [Soul Analyze]
<ul>
<li>Creates a connection to the target’s status interface.</li>
<li>Allows the user to see all information about the target.</li>
</ul>
<hr>
I stared at the prompts, then broke into an improvised baby-version of the cabbage patch dance. I did it! I’d created a skill that no one else had.
Activating [Soul Analyze] on the lizard, a new screen appeared.
<hr>
Tree Lizard
<ul>
<li>Age: 1.3 Years</li>
<li>Level: 3</li>
<li>Traits:
<ul>
<li>Tree Camouflage</li>
<li>Skittering Evasion</li>
</ul>
</li>
<li>HP: 35</li>
<li>MP: 15</li>
<li>Stats:
<ul>
<li>Strength: 0.3</li>
<li>Endurance: 1</li>
<li>Agility: 3</li>
<li>Intelligence: 0</li>
<li>Wisdom: 0</li>
<li>Charisma: 3</li>
<li>Constitution: 2</li>
</ul>
</li>
</ul>
<hr>
I noted its traits with interest but had little time to study them before the lizard, startled, darted away. The connection broke, and the status page vanished.
As if on cue, my father, Ileor, entered the hut. He picked me up, holding me aloft with an expectant smile, but I just stared at him blankly.
Curious, I activated [Soul Analyze] on him.
<hr>
Name: Ileor Knollen
<ul>
<li>Age: 842 Years</li>
<li>Level: 759</li>
<li>Traits:
<ul>
<li>Elven Swiftness</li>
<li>Elven Talent</li>
<li>Elven Longevity</li>
<li>Elven Spirit</li>
</ul>
</li>
<li>HP: 9,210</li>
<li>MP: 80,815</li>
<li>MP Regen: 8,140/min</li>
<li>Stats:
<ul>
<li>Strength: 641</li>
<li>Endurance: 512</li>
<li>Agility: 21,560 (2,156 x 10)</li>
<li>Intelligence: 871</li>
<li>Wisdom: 814</li>
<li>Charisma: 222</li>
<li>Constitution: 101</li>
</ul>
</li>
</ul>
<hr>
Ileor flinched, looking around as though someone had pranked him. I barely noticed, stunned by the sheer scope of his stats.
My dad is a serious badass, I thought. With strength like that, who could stand against him?
But then the truth dawned on me: the other Elves weren’t as strong. My father was the sole reason our village could survive here. The demonic beast wouldn’t announce itself or challenge him directly—it would go for the weakest prey first.
And that meant me.