《System Reset - Forged in Nightmare》


 1 — System Reset

    Alex had always had a nose for danger but betrayal had a distinct scent to it. A foul and unmistakable thing to his nose. And right when he¡¯d thought it couldn¡¯t surprise him any longer, he¡¯d felt its chill right there in his bones and known.


    The Immortal had turned on them.


    ¡°Urgh¡­¡± Alex twisted, a groan escaping him.


    The matter was farther from mind now as a razor lip of metal squelched red along his stomach. Blasts echoed in the fog around him, dull to his ringing ears, and he watched through blurry eyes as blood welled from a contorted tear in his chest piece¡ªeven his own armor turning traitor, seemingly.


    He blinked away the last vestige of the explosion and by the time sight returned, he found himself almost wishing he was still blinded.


    Fuck¡­


    [Alex Smith - Level 267, Former Ranker]


    Indenture: 100 years of service --or-- 100,000,000 Essence Crystals


    Class: [Ironblood Reforger] - Blacksmith


    Traits: [???]


    Skill trees:


    Warrior - Level 7


    -- Status --


    Fractured Bones: 27


    Damaged ligaments: 5


    Ailments:


    [Concussed]


    [Heavy Burn]


    [Bleed]


    HP: [27%]


    With a dull ache in his skull Alex took inventory of his wounds. He lay slumped against the chamber wall, a good ten feet beneath where it had impacted him. His left arm was gone, and though he could still feel the twitch in his legs, their mangled state didn¡¯t invoke any confidence to carry him far. Oddly enough, where the explosion had done its worst, it had also burned his armor so hot that it acted as a sort of cauterizing agent, which was the reason he was still alive. All but his sword arm and chest were indeterminable from flesh and metal now and for once, he was thankful his curse left him unable to feel the warmth of fire¡ªeven if he could still smell the cook of its meat.


    He took a long, pained breath. Yeah, I¡¯m fucked.


    For some reason trying to access his inventory was only springing error messages and he didn¡¯t see that fixing itself any time soon. Weaponless, potionless, and healerless, the only way out was death.


    And even then¡­


    His mind trailed off as the Boss¡¯s guttural roar cut through the dense fog of the arena. It weaved left and right, purple miasma trailing its pursuit as the Immortal chased after the demonic core¡ªAfter Alex¡¯s demonic core¡ªthough, a quick glance at his state hushed the urge to just wade in there and grab it. No, what caught his eyes now were the silhouettes fighting alongside the Immortal.


    They ambled with an awkward gait, their aberrant forms only illuminated by each blast of purple, and the twisted sense of familiarity they carried sent a shiver down Alex¡¯s spine. His dangersense activated involuntarily. But a man as weak as him didn¡¯t survive by ignoring his instincts so when he dragged himself to his feet he didn¡¯t shamble towards the ongoing battle, but to the opposite boss chambers instead, where the explosion had sent his party leader.


    He hardly had to think about what state he was in. He saw the figure lying on the ground and as he got closer, confirmed what he already knew.


    Again, he was the only one left behind.


    Alex grunted a painful sigh as he sat down next to the man. Jordan''s legs and lower abdomen had melted into his armor just as his own had but his upper body was completely missing. Gouged from his frame, it left only entrails trailing after, and it was likely the only reason his corpse was not fighting alongside the rest of them.


    Good. The man had earned his rest.


    Heck, Alex had half a mind to blow himself up somehow rather than risk becoming one of those abominations¡ªbut alas he didn¡¯t have the means. His lucky smithy hammer was the only thing left intact and it would hardly do the job.


    The thought didn¡¯t stop him from reaching for it anyway, but when no hand appeared where it should have he had to look down at his absent limb to stump his confusion. It was a strange feeling, to lose a limb. He supposed it went without saying, but it felt unnatural, as if it should still be there. His heart thundered. His blood still pumped so loudly in his ears and his trait¡¯s dangersense continued screaming at him to survive.


    Survive?


    A scorched laugh rose up in his throat. Survive how? It took them three weeks to get down here, did it just expect him to stumble the journey back?


    And yet, on some level, he as well couldn¡¯t accept that this was his end. Truly, if Alex had known an Immortal Ranker would be joining them he wouldn¡¯t have¨C


    [HP: 22%]


    He grimaced.


    No, that¡¯s not true.


    ¡°Alex,¡± Jordan had spoken to him three weeks ago, ¡°I have the most important job offer of your life, but I can¡¯t reveal the client or any information about it. So, how much do you want to die?¡±


    Not at all, Alex had answered. Though naturally he¡¯d taken the job anyway. The older man was one of the only ones still kicking from Alex¡¯s Earth-days, he had read between the lines. The question wasn¡¯t if he was suicidal, rather, what he was really asking was just how long he could stand to live in this shit-hole.


    A year? A lifetime?


    Even knowing the risk, Alex would¡¯ve accepted. And Jordan would''ve known that.


    He exhaled, finding nothing to begrudge the man for. Immortal rankers were practically unheard of natural disasters in a backwater place like this. If one randomly brings a quest and tells you to assemble a B-rank party, you oblige and hope the storm passes over quietly. For Alex at least, that coin toss had been worth the risk.


    If I could¡¯ve gotten even a sliver of that Demonic Core¡­


    He hushed the thought. His eyes followed the shifting shapes through the fog and he found his aura spiking dangerously before he quelled that too. There was little point drawing attention to himself at this point.


    Distantly, the Boss¡¯s roars turned starkly more desperate as it fled the Immortal Death Priestess. Camilla was her name. She was the only other Earther in their party and was known as one of the strongest of the 217 Nightmares back during Integration. Exactly why she¡¯d want a ¡°mere¡± Demon Core was beyond Alex, but as feared she didn¡¯t intend on sharing or leaving witnesses. Not ones she couldn¡¯t resurrect at least.


    More explosions came and he looked back at Jordan¡¯s corpse, lamenting he wouldn¡¯t have the honor of joining him.


    Does she even know we¡¯ve fought on the same battlefield?


    Heck, Alex had even exchanged words with her during the war, though he doubted she remembered. She was the most self-absorbed of her ilk and Alex¡­ he was unrecognizable from who he¡¯d once been. That Demon Core had been his only chance at starting anew.


    ¡°And there she is toying with it.¡±


    He sighed. Of course it would end like this.


    It¡¯d been ten years since Earth had fallen and with each one that passed¡­ it was just too much. This world had nothing left for him. He¡¯d had no friends anymore, only acquaintances. And of those, the one he¡¯d known the longest had just breathed his last.


    Now, it was his turn.


    As Alex rested his head against the chamber wall, the admission left him feeling strangely empty for once and the emotions he was met with surprised him a little. There was none of the expected fear, nor sadness, nor even a sense of relief for his end. He watched his health slowly deplete and he felt only that familiar gnawing feeling eating him alive from the inside.


    Belatedly, he realized his sword hand was still gripped white around his Wyvernblade¡¯s hilt¡ªjust her hilt, her blade having shattered in their final attack. He lifted it to his face, his sight going blurry once again, and let his mind wander as he recalled it.


    That tremor that ran along her edge, the voice that resonated in his very bones¡­ the energy behind that attack could only have come from one place.


    To think he¡¯d finally glimpsed what he¡¯d been chasing this entire time, only to die soon after. He laughed.


    Curse my fate.


    Alex closed his eyes. A sound like a coursing river rose from the depths to embrace him and it was all that occupied his mind in his final moments.


    At least¡ªuntil the system glitched.


    [WARNING]


    [Galaxy 2374 Experiencing Temporal Divergence]


    [Requesting Authorization for Temporal Patching]


    ¡°Agh¡ªwhat the¨C¡±


    ***


    Alex blinked. What was I¡­?


    The world spun around him for a second, dragging his senses under like currents in the ocean. He got the distinct feeling his trait was trying to tell him something when suddenly, the feeling stopped.


    ¡°Alex, stop dragging your feet,¡± Jordan called.


    He froze at the man¡¯s voice.


    It was vaguely unsettling for some reason and as Alex tore his eyes from the ground he saw him standing there, six feet ahead, but where there should¡¯ve been a man there was instead a corpse. Then, as soon as it appeared the vision was gone. He had the party stopped right before the boss gates, their runic glow casting his graying hair blue as they crept open, and he raised a quizzical brow at Alex before decisively turned back to his discussion with the mages.


    Christ, I must be losing it.


    But was he? His trait was practically going haywire after spending three weeks down here with the Death Priestess, but the chill it sent down his spine was undeniable. He squinted, and just as he almost thought he could see that vision again a heavy shoulder tore him from his stupor.


    Chon, the barbarian, shouldered past him to join the vanguard. He muttered deadweight under his breath.


    Alex had been about to say something when the half-orc¡¯s head suddenly rolled from his neck¡ªthen just as quickly that vision was gone too. He¡¯d rubbed his eyes and it was like it never happened.


    Strange¡­


    Whether it was a hallucination or just wishful thinking he wasn¡¯t sure, but there was little to do by this point but get ready.


    Fastening his armor¡¯s straps, Alex traced the sigil for luck on the flat of his forge hammer. He was no enchanter and it sure hadn¡¯t helped any of his friends but it had long since become part of his ritual. He tucked it into a strap on his belt and took his blade out for final inspection.


    [Lys (Rare)]


    A Wyvern Blade hammered with a desperation to surpass one¡¯s limits


    Trait: Mana Induction


    With a simple perk like mana induction, some might call her a waste of precious material, but Alex knew the truth. The Wyvern blade had been the only source of pride in his class since the war ended and while at first glance she was just an ordinary arming sword¡ªher form indistinct by design¡ªthere was a glint beyond her steel that spoke to him. Under his breath he murmured his thanks for her protection before once again resheathing her.


    ¡®Deadweight¡¯ huh¡­


    He scanned the rest of the party. Aside from Jordan and the barbarian Chon, there was also a young Healer who was native to this layer, and the elf, Lyphie, who was a wind mage and their main source of damage. As one of very few C rankers demanding B rank rates in the layers they all outleveled Alex by a hundred, but he knew his worth.


    He was the only battle-capable Blacksmith in Dykriest and he was only ever hired for one of two types of delves: tightly budgeted ones, or those too low profile to risk outsourcing for proper enchantments. His main task had just ended when he¡¯d finished maintenance on the party¡¯s gear moments prior but he still had his role to play.


    Protect the backline. Call out threats. Ignore that looming Immortal shadow behind us. If he could just do that, odds were he could just treat these last ten years as a bad dream and move on.


    Somehow it seemed unlikely.


    ¡°Enough with the strategizing,¡± a cold voice echoed, ¡°What could a B rank party do that I can¡¯t? Just stay out of my way and let me deal with it.¡±


    The voice seemed to be coming from everywhere all at once and the temperature in the room plummeted. Looks of stricken fear crossed the party¡¯s faces and Alex was rather starkly reminded that not everyone had the pleasure of knowing when they were being watched. He caught a shallow grimace flash across his party leader¡¯s face as the man shot him a subtle glance.


    Ah, right. The other reason I was hired.


    Private message from Jordan: [Have there been any changes?]


    The notification flickered in Alex¡¯s interface, though he didn¡¯t let slip any reaction. They didn¡¯t speak openly about his dangersense trait¡ªand frankly, calling it that was somewhat inaccurate as he¡¯d never managed to get it identified¡ªbut the hope had been that spending three weeks down here with the Immortal, he¡¯d be able to parse some of her intentions.


    It had been a futile effort. The Death Priestess cared so little to hide her foul aura that after spending the delve with a constant prick on his neck, all he could ascertain was that she was incredibly dangerous and that entering the boss chambers with her would be a terrible idea.


    Jordan wasn¡¯t nearly as subtle when he read his reply. ¡°Al-alright,¡± he eventually said, ¡°Everyone geared and ready? Let¡¯s get this show on the road then.¡±


    The healer finished casting his protections and Alex took a protective stance of him and the mage as Jordan led them into the boss chamber.


    The doors slammed shut behind them. Everything unraveled.


    Unraveled?


    Alex stopped cold, his hairs on end. The Boss chambers were vast and almost circular with a fog that thickened on the perimeter. Blue flames flickered on the opposite end behind what appeared to be a massive throne from the shape of it and the air turned stale on his tongue. Unraveled¡­ his trait had acted up before but never like this, what does that even¨C


    He glanced back, the healer wasn¡¯t moving forward with the group.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± he snapped.


    The young man stammered, ¡°Not-nothing, just had a sudden chill is all.¡±


    His face was pale and though his mouth spoke, his eyes were far distant.


    ¡°Relax,¡± Alex began, ¡°It means noth¡ª¡±


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    He saw it before it happened, like a glimmer of the future overlayed a mere second before reality. The Healer¡¯s chest caved in. He dropped dead.


    Shi¨C


    The mage whirled back in confusion. Alex instantly moved to cover her as an ax broke through the mist. He only barely deflected it, skewing it off path by a few inches.


    ¡°Healer down!¡± Jordan shouted, ¡°Triangle formation!¡±


    The Death Priestess ignored the order and rushed in, something Alex could only tell from the whiff of dread passing by.


    What¨C


    ¡°Dammit!¡± the Half-Orc cursed, ¡°How the fuck did it pick up our location so fast! I thought the anti-scri¨C¡±


    He cut off with a grunt and clang of metal. ¡®How¡¯ was irrelevant. They were already down a healer, and now this field of fog was working against them. Now was not the time for distractions.


    It wasn¡¯t, but a familiar feeling gnawed at his gut nonetheless.


    His eyes swiveled. He pivoted his stance as an ax broke through from an entirely separate direction.


    Multiple enemies? No¨C he only felt one gaze on him, as heavy and suffocating as it was.


    His hands throbbed from the impact, instinct told him not to stop. Without thought Alex coursed mana through his steel and leapt, swinging down against yet another hatchet.


    [Fallen River]


    It shattered helplessly against his blade and he seized the initiative with an upward swing in the same motion¨C reverse current. It wasn¡¯t a skill, just expert mana manipulation but it had saved his life enough times all the same¡ªand today, that meant intercepting the next ax early and buying himself precious time.


    ¡°Jordan¨C¡±


    ¡°Already on it!¡± he growled.


    He signaled to Chon and the two of them rushed forwards to the center of the arena, where most of the attacks had come from. Normally, bundling up would be the correct call here, but with the heavy fog and unpredictable attack patterns they were left dead in the water with their heavy-set armor and weapons. Without Alex¡¯s senses they were better spent putting pressure on the boss and leaving defense to him.


    Speaking of¡­


    ¡°Lyphie,¡± he demanded, ¡°Snap out of it! Protection field! Now!¡±


    The pale-skinned woman hadn¡¯t taken a single move the entire time and as she finally tore her sunken eyes away from the Healer¡¯s corpse and surveyed her surroundings it was as if she¡¯d only just processed that a fight had broken out. Her expression finally gained some semblance of awareness and, to her credit, when she raised her staff her incantation was pitch-perfect regardless.


    An invisible wall of wind shimmered in a sphere around the two of them. Alex shot aura from his blade in a sweeping slash and when he turned to guard against the next projectile he saw it suddenly lose momentum in that wall and drop to the ground. Loud clashes and dull explosions drifted languidly through the currents and as Alex was reminded that the Boss¡ªwhatever monstrosity it was¡ªhad an Immortal to contend with, he let his guard relax.


    Only slightly.


    He looked down at his shaking hands in bewilderment. Despite the shock absorption of his tang, he¡¯d been forced to take up a two-handed grip during the altercation. It wasn¡¯t that the blows were particularly strong¡ªthough they of course were regardless¡ªbut astoundingly, they all felt meticulously placed too. Each had come at the most awkward angle and timing for Alex, and it felt as if his moves were being read ten steps ahead somehow. If it weren¡¯t for his trait¡­


    Alex looked at the mage. He himself could hardly see the silhouettes through this much fog when he tried to get a look at the boss, but judging by her widened eyes, Lyphie had clearly seen a lot more through spiritual sight. A troubled expression crossed her face.


    ¡°What is it?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Oh¡ªuh¡­ nothing¡­ I think.¡±


    She didn¡¯t elaborate and simply clutched her staff, facing back towards the healer¡¯s corpse. Alex hadn¡¯t missed the glances they¡¯d shared the entire delve, the way their touches lingered longer the deeper they went. Perhaps he would have warned them off if he were nicer, but she was of elven blood. This would hardly be the first loss in her life.


    ¡°Do you regret coming?¡±


    Alex chewed his lip, he wasn¡¯t the talkative sort these days but he needed her focused somehow.


    ¡°...no,¡± she said, ¡°The layers are no home for an elf.¡±


    He nodded sagely. Thankfully, that did the trick as he found he had no other words to offer. She raised her staff and what little wind spirits the caverns held flocked to her en-mass. She chanted a longer incantation this time, her silvery hair lifting in thin strands as mana buzzed around her. The look in her eyes told him this would be a finishing blow.


    Alex took guard again. He was close. So close.


    Just one shard of that Demon Core would carry enough essence for his indenture, and once he was out of this shithole he could finally swap out this trap of a class. He¡¯d done all he could, now he just had to wait. Wait and hope.


    Mana gushed. The chirping of latent spirits fluttered around them. A whirlwind rose in power, a force strong enough to crush a boulder all condensed into a finite point at the end of Lyphie¡¯s staff. And yet, as the spell unleashed a nagging feeling pulled Alex¡¯s attention elsewhere. Horror crept into his heart as he tried to count the ax¡¯s he¡¯d swung down.


    There was no need, one look at the Healer¡¯s corpse and he could tell he bore no wound.


    And when Lyphie collapsed to the ground there was no blemish on her corpse either. Just the fading vision of her head twisting from her neck. Just the sense something had been unraveled.


    ***


    ¡°What the FUCK are you doing?!¡±


    Alex stood in stupor, the Half-Orc¡¯s words washing over him. He stared blankly at Lyphie''s lifeless, woundless corpse.


    It didn¡¯t make any sense. None of it made any sense. No attacks he could sense, nothing! His Dangersense was screaming alright, but nothing that he could understand for fucks sake¨C


    That changed rather suddenly as he dived for the ground, an ax flying overhead. He looked up to find that the elf¡¯s wind barrier had gone with her.


    ¡°Dammit!¡±


    Alex¡¯s jaw tightened. He¡¯d had one fucking job and he¡¯d failed it. He knew no one could blame these circumstances on a C rank, but that didn¡¯t matter to him. Jordan had trusted him to protect them. And deep down, he could feel it. If his promise hadn¡¯t been stolen from him, even something like this wouldn¡¯t have deterred him.


    That familiar feeling gnawed at his gut, bubbling outwards as he pushed himself up. He bit his lip, drawing blood. The pain filtered his emotions out in a stream of dark red impurity, leaving his mind to sharpen.


    No more what ifs.


    His instinct screamed at him to stop, but Alex wouldn¡¯t cower alone here like some weakling while others fought for him. He channeled a surge of mana into his blade and leapt out of the fog with raw vigor.


    He didn¡¯t know what he had expected¡ªan immediate struggle of life and death, perhaps¡ªbut as his vision cleared he immediately halted.


    [Inspect]


    [Time Warden - level 330 Demon Realm Boss]


    Jordan had informed them it would be below level 400, unusually low for a Demon Realm monster, but Alex had never seen anything like it. It looked almost like an albino minotaur with a head resembling a satanic goat. Its horns were twisted in elaborate curves, its fur was iridescent silver like it was made of liquid metal, and its eyes were blank, holding an empty gaze that regarded everything equally.


    And weirdest of all¡ªit was somehow still alive. That terrified him more than anything else.


    He chuckled dreadfully as it all came together. It wasn¡¯t the boss¡¯s level-defying strength, nor even the way it seemed to dodge everything like it had precognition that terrified Alex. He was simply terrified that the Death Priestess hadn¡¯t bothered to kill it.


    Jordan and Chon were still fighting for their lives and he couldn¡¯t blame them. They¡¯d probably never seen what an Immortal could do in person.


    Alex remembered it still.


    A burn-scarred man sitting atop an army of corpses. He¡¯d had the red eyes of a demon and the beating heart of a World¡¯s Keeper in his left hand. He¡¯d crushed it, sending a pulse of energy across the bloody horizons.


    Ten years ago he¡¯d have seen so clearly what he only now realized. The way Camilla danced unseen to their eyes, as if with the grace of an assassin and the ferocity of a¡ªyeah, what a farce. If she¡¯d wanted the Boss dead she would¡¯ve simply strolled up there and flicked it. That was what an Immortal ranker was capable of.


    Eventually, she must¡¯ve grown bored as she did just that.


    Camilla, the Priestess of Death materialized, and everyone fell to their knees. She wore leathery black opera gloves that went to her biceps and a purple dress made of Hydra skin that squirmed around her curves as if it were alive. The hems of her dress were nine long shreds that seemed to writhe away in fear, snapping near Chon¡¯s face as she walked by.


    Then another figure walked out of the fog to Alex¡¯s right. Lyphie, lifeless and pale. She raised her staff and a jet of steam blew the Monster¡¯s head off.


    Only¡­ it grew back immediately.


    In that very moment, the monster¡¯s core burst into crimson light as the world unraveled. But just before it did, Alex saw it. Both the notification right in front of the core¡­and the Half Orc¡¯s headless corpse as it collapsed next to him.


    [Fate Reversal]


    ***


    Alex emerged from the fog expecting an immediate struggle of life and death, instead he was met with Chon¡¯s corpse. Just like the others, the Half-Orc bore no wounds. It was as if he¡¯d simply decided he was done and keeled over.


    And then immediately after that, he got back up. Death aura surrounded him, animating him, and the undead bastard flew right back into combat. As an undead.


    Alex¡¯s complexion dimmed as he made the realization. She¡¯d been holding out on us.


    He chuckled pitifully. Of course she was. How had he forgotten, this was what an Immortal was capable of. They were all ants to her, she didn¡¯t even need them for fodder. So was that how it was? Dead men tell no tales when they march for your armies, he supposed.


    No, It made no sense. None of it did. Why even hire them when she could just do it herself? Unless¡­ she couldn¡¯t?


    Alex bit his lip. He was clearly missing some integral piece information. But he was also about 500 levels short of being able to do anything about it either. All the Nightmare¡¯s were like this, the crazy bastards, it was impossible to predict their thoughts. But he¡¯d known it was a coin flip going in, hadn¡¯t he. Though it¡¯d clearly landed on the side of lady death.


    Yet still that instinct of his screamed for him to survive. To do anything to prolong his pitiful life a little longer. He hated himself for it, but even now his body listened. He¡¯d just been about to duck back into the fog when something pulled his attention.


    No¡­


    ¡°Camilla! What¡¯s the meaning of this!¡± Jordan shouted. ¡°Half the party is dead now, and I ain¡¯t stupid enough to think it ain¡¯t on purpose!¡±


    The Death Priestess¡¯s dark haze faded away and she materialized, leaving their undead party members to play with the boss. She strolled towards the man.


    They were fucked. Alex knew in his bones that he needed to run. The boss alone was too much for them now, and an Immortal on top of that? He turned on his heels. No, I have to survive this!


    ¡°I never should¡¯ve trusted you.¡±


    Alex halted at that.


    Jordan¡¯s tone was laced with poison and for a brief second he wondered whether the remark had been directed towards him¡ªbut no. Jordan had seen what happened, he knew just as well now of the threat approaching him. But Jordan was a man of honor. A practitioner of codes that rarely survived the necessities of war. Immortal or not, he wouldn¡¯t flee and leave alive the woman who killed his team. He had his eyes closed in prayer, and when they snapped open his blade flared with the inferno of a constellation.


    ¡°You speak a lot for a dead man,¡± Camilla said, death energy gathering towards her weapon as well. Her skill activated. A chill ran up his bone and Alex knew it instinctively. That¡­ was a death sentence.


    And yet¡­ his eyes met Jordan in that instant.


    It was strange how he immediately knew that the man did not have any resentment towards Alex for wanting to run. That even as resolve flashed in the paladin¡¯s eyes, mixing with grief and fury for the death of his party, there was also the kindness that whispered into his soul. He could almost hear the man¡¯s words.


    Run out of here you damned fool. Run and live!


    The Death Priestess swung. Jordan¡¯s ability shivered, the two ready to collide in a strike of magic that would surely kill the man. Alex didn¡¯t realize when he broke into a run.


    But he wasn¡¯t running away. Instead he was condensing his entire mana pool into his blade. It was strange. He¡¯d thought his conscience had died ages ago. But somehow, Alex¡¯s body moved on its own at that moment. It did the exact opposite of what he wanted. His legs pivoted.


    Lys sang at a shrill pitch, flickers of pure condensed power leaked out like lightning. Then with his strongest skill, he swung towards Camilla, and the two abilities collided.


    [Energy Pierce]


    For a second, Alex forgot everything but the beauty of it.


    Sparks of white energy shot from the collision point. Lys screeched with the fury white lightning. Her cracks deepened and she fell apart as it swallowed her. It became all that she was. She¡¯d been born for this moment¡ªall those hours of passion spent in the forge¡ªall for this, it was her final breath.


    He felt an inexplicable pull as she shone with life. Those gates he¡¯d stared mournfully at all his life opened just a crack, beckoning.


    Then Jordan¡¯s ability exploded and the world became fire.


    [WARNING]


    [Galaxy 2374 Experiencing Temporal Divergence]


    [Requesting Authorization for Temporal Patching]


    ¡­


    [Authorization Granted]


    [Completion: 1%]


    [2%]


    ***


    Reality flickered, glitched. In the span of a second, the world seemed to have folded in on itself a thousand times, his head pounded with contradicting memories and versions of himself. He screamed in agony, trying to remember which him he was!


    Finally, the world returned to normal.


    ¡°Agh¡ªwhat the¨C¡±


    Alex stilled as his memories shifted. The Minotaur¡¯s core¡ªAlex could¡¯ve sworn it was a brilliant shining crimson. But¡­ it had changed. Now it was a dull gray, the last of its light flickering out. It was weakening.


    A terrible idea occurred to him. An idea so terrible even on the brink of death he hesitated. Then he grabbed the only thing that had survived the explosion¡ªhis lucky smithy hammer¡ªand waded back through the fog towards the fighting.


    The cost would be terrible, but with his sword¡¯s death he¡¯d already lost everything he was proud of. Besides, he¡¯d never had much reason for the things he did, he was just stubborn. He didn¡¯t want to die.


    He paused. That was a lie. He didn¡¯t care if he died, not anymore. He just wanted to deny Camilla her prize. To give her a last fuck you before he took his final breath.


    Alex grinned through the blood as he pictured her expression.


    [Health: 17%]


    He bit back the urge to vomit precious blood and fought to stay conscious as he teetered forward. Silhouettes danced in the fog and a stray blast of miasma whizzed past his face. He couldn¡¯t be bothered to dodge, all his mental focus was on getting this right.


    His Blacksmith class had a skill called [Meld], which was used to meld pockets of highly dense vital mana into metal. Like Cores, though he¡¯d never even laid eyes on a Demon Core before. He wouldn¡¯t be able to even touch it at his rank¡­ unless it was severely weakened somehow. It was different from his normal use of the skill, where every part of the process was perfectly measured. This was just pure destruction.


    Of the same core that once held my future.


    He staggered past the raised corpse of the Healer who looked at him confusedly as he passed. Alex could see the Minotaur¡¯s silhouette more clearly now. It was exhausted, any previous glimpse of precognition having left as it stumbled lethargically from its sadistic pursuer. Camilla licked her blade.


    ¡°Hmm, Alex? You survived?¡± she asked, as if surprised.


    Alex realized a moment later why she hadn¡¯t come to end him. The thought that he would survive hadn¡¯t even occurred to her. He was too far beneath her to even be considered a threat, and so she had promptly returned to her minotaur.


    Alex grit his teeth, and moved forward, ambling towards the Minotaur. Alex was still an ant to her. But that was the thing right? When forced to the brink, even ants could bite. And Alex had long since crossed the edge.


    His stumbling was ignored by Camilla, a few stray attacks from her puppets aimed in his direction. He wanted to spit, to be mocked even now, but he simply kept moving forward. Weaponless, his presence barely registered on her radar. And the Minotaur¡­ it¡¯d already lost its will to live.


    He stumbled close to the monster, looking into its eyes. No¡­ this was not a monster. Merely a creature protecting what it was meant to protect. The real monster hung behind him, puppeting the corpses of those she had killed.


    Camilla laughed as he raised his hammer


    ¡°How pitiful¡­ are you still trying to¨C¡±


    Then he slugged the thing with [Meld].


    Crack¡ª


    ***


    The world spun around, and as Alex found his bearings it took him a moment to realize what was happening.


    Ah, that¡¯s right¡­ I¡¯m dying.


    He touched his fingers to his stomach, blood seeping through his fingers. Then he noticed his arm. Strips of Core threaded it now in no particular shape or pattern. The crimson was completely lifeless now. He hadn¡¯t expected much better.


    It¡¯d been a crackhead theory, spurred by the thought that his armor had melted so hot his arm might as well have been metal now. He knew a full integration would be impossible with this method, but if he could just activate whatever had saved the Minotaur¡­


    Well, doesn''t matter now.


    It had actually almost worked, initially, but before he could complete the process Camilla had screamed and blasted him to the wall. He¡¯d missed his window. The Core¡¯s aura had dissipated. And now he was dying.


    His vision blurred, and it wasn¡¯t just from his declining health bar. He looked up to find the Death Priestess sitting with her head tucked into her knees in front of him. She¡­ was also crying.


    ¡°Oh, shut up,¡± she said, ¡°I can hear what you¡¯re thinking.¡±


    Alex tried to reply, to curse at her, but his mouth refused to move, his eyelids already falling.


    ¡°That core you ruined was my only chance¡­ I have nothing left now! Do you even know  what that was? It wasn¡¯t a stupid demon core, it was a Divine core. I mean, it was wrong to get you all killed for it I guess, but¡­ ah! Who cares! If not for this then you all would¡¯ve died to something else anyway! But no, you just had to ruin it!¡±


    She fumed, stamping her heels in anger as she described the exact ways she was going to torture him after his death. It disturbed him to see her expression, twisted and distorted in fury and a sick sadistic pleasure but his ears rang too much for him to hear the rest of it.


    His mind was far from here now.


    He thought suddenly that this must¡¯ve been what Aashay must¡¯ve felt, as he bled out in his arms during the defense of Drusik¡¯s Gates. Or Laura, though her death had been swifter, more outrageous, unforgivable. So many deaths, so many years. He hadn¡¯t even been there to see his sister¡¯s death.


    Nor the death of his first real party. They¡¯d stayed behind, protecting their weakest member as he ran for the return stone.


    [2% HP]


    Alex felt that familiar feeling gnaw up from his depths. He recognized it for what it was; Regret. But it felt as dull and old as any other pain now.


    His Blacksmith class could¡¯ve been so much more. He could¡¯ve been so much more. And yet the potential had been robbed from him. He¡¯d had a vision for it once, combining it with his Warrior skill-tree¡­ but there¡¯d been a million pitfalls and he¡¯d fallen into every one.


    He¡¯d always dreamed of changing his path after that, and yet, when Lys had sung her last¡­ it was all that captivated his mind now.


    He coughed, spitting blood.


    [1% HP]


    The world was already fuzzy, but now it was flashing a bright, almost blinding light as well. He tried to find comfort in the grip of his smithy hammer but he had dropped it when Camilla attacked.


    Vaguely, he saw Camilla standing over his body, her death magic seeping into him. He could no longer hear her words. And he knew what fate awaited him.


    Yet, as the image of the woman crying came to his mind, Alex couldn¡¯t help the bloody smile creeping onto his face, as the Death Priestess took his soul.


    Skill [Meld] successful!


    Divine Core has partially integrated with Alex Smith.


    [Fate Reversal] activated.


    Error. Alex Smith has been targeted with [Fate Reversal].


    Ability cannot comply.


    [CRITICAL ERROR. ASPECT OF FATE IS DESTABILIZING]


    [PATCHING¡­ FAILED]


    [FATAL SYSTEM ERROR]


    [INITIATING SYSTEM RESET]

 2 — One More Time

    The tap of a pen. A desk phone¡¯s sharp ring, a practiced response. Hushed chatter. A printer¡¯s thrum, the soft tick of someone¡¯s clock, clicks and clacks from countless keyboards. The sounds were vaguely nostalgic to Alex.


    He blinked in confusion.


    Wait, he was alive? How did he¨C oh¨C


    Lightheaded, he collapsed back onto the chair he¡¯d risen from. His limbs were weak and his vision teetered on darkness, though the latter was slowly fading. Was he still injured?


    Strange, I can¡¯t see my HP bar.


    ¡°Hey, Alex,¡± Someone poked their head in from behind a wall, ¡°You look like you could use a Monster.¡±


    A monster. Alex tried to find his sword, jumping from his seat. ¡°Where¡ª¡± The man placed an ominous can in front of him.


    ¡°I¡¯m on my sixth myself¡­ too bad we¡¯re not paid by the hour eh?¡± the man half chuckled and half writhed as he swiveled back behind the wall.


    Wait, not a wall.


    Alex¡¯s horror grew. No¡­ It was a cubicle. Not just that, it was a whole row of them, a whole room, an entire¨C


    Oh god, this is an office, isn¡¯t it?


    And it was with a sinking feeling in his gut that Alex realized exactly where he was. He slunk down onto his chair and closed his eyes, letting the ringing sound permeate his brain. Three rings. You were supposed to let the phones ring thrice before you answered; not too desperate, not too uncaring, standard call center procedure.


    But how though? Am I being shown a dream? Is this some kind of torture?


    Or¡­ had he survived?


    No. Not even that would explain his current scenario. Not to mention, while his memory had been hazy in those final moments, he¡¯d literally felt his health dip below 1%, and unless Camilla was secretly a [Saintess]...


    Perhaps I¡¯m walking around as her puppet, and this is the endless nightmare I have to suffer.


    Alex shuddered at the thought.


    He ran his mind in circles trying to find the answer but there was no reasonable explanation for this. Even if this was real and integration with the core had worked, he would''ve just gone back to the beginning of that fight, right? No, he should be dead. He¡¯d literally felt his soul go somewhere after death¡ªwhere it was supposed to, maybe. And yet here he was, here of all places. Here and now.


    Absent-mindedly, he sunk into his chair and let everything seep in. He cracked open the monster and¡ªtoo tired to form thoughts¡ªlet his eyes glaze over, and eventually close. They stayed that way for a short time, his mind far away, mulling over everything that happened. It was a shallow thing, his attention slipping off every subject as though his brain knew it wouldn¡¯t gleam more from a deeper inspection. It looked at it all through a distant, foggy lens. The deaths of his party members, Camilla¡¯s revelation about the core, those final notifications before his end, and finally, that blissful moment where he¡¯d been in full unity with his sword. His mind lingered there longer than anywhere else, too confounded to conjure feelings, just stuck in the memory.


    For a time.


    ¡°¡ªHello! Thank you for calling HKR Software! How can I¡­¡±


    Another ring came from a cubicle to his left. Then behind.


    Lovely.


    He peered at his monitor. It was overtaken by spreadsheets and graphs, split between many tabs. They were data points for his reference; unrealistic projections for the company and quotas that veered on the delusional. With each minute in this place the memories became clearer.


    The inhuman hours, the scapegoating¡­ but what did it matter?


    The feelings attached to them belonged to a stranger now. In many ways, the apocalypse had been the great leveler, tearing everything he¡¯d thought he¡¯d known about this world down and leveling the playing field. If this truly was a reflection of his past then quotas, US dollars, profits, none of these would matter soon.


    The thought gave him pause.


    Wait, how soon?


    ¡°Yo, Alex,¡± his desk neighbor peeked in again, ¡°What¡¯s got you so spacy today? Need an ambulance or something? They won¡¯t reimburse you though. Management has been changing insurance policies, did you sign the papers?¡±


    ¡°Hey, who even are yo¡ªyou know what, nevermind. Just tell me what day it is.¡±


    The man frowned and looked like he¡¯d been about to answer, when he suddenly turned pale. Alex followed his gaze over his shoulder to a balding man who wore his old-fashioned suit and suspenders with a tautness that suggested putting them on was his favorite part of the morning. Most puzzling was the unnecessarily mean glare he directed Alex¡¯s way and the odd feeling that washed over him as he realized what the man was about to say.


    ¡°Alex, the manager woul¨C¡± ¡ªwould like a word with you.


    Alex frowned, the precognition feeling almost unnatural to him.


    ¡°You¡¯re nowhere near hitting your quota for this month,¡± the man continued, ¡°And they want to know why.¡± He said that last word: ¡®why¡¯ with the kind of sneer that insinuated he knew exactly why Alex wasn¡¯t meeting his quota, as if his ragged appearance was the very issue.


    After a barrage of criticisms on his un-ironed shirt, Alex finally remembered the man. Jack, John or something equally stereotypically white; a pompous middle-manager who¡¯d always been on his ass. He soon tuned him out, but the oddness of the situation continued to grow on him. It was like he was experiencing two re-enactments of his life, one from memory and the other on a delay, but the dejavu he was experiencing was too intense for something from fifteen years ago. Too detailed for something he should¡¯ve long forgotten. He tried to recall how to unlock his phone. Before realizing that he could just use his fingerprint.


    Right. 2023.


    He opened the phone and a wallpaper of him and a younger girl appeared, startling him. It took Alex a moment before he was ready to remember.


    Alyssa.


    A myriad of emotions sunk into his gut at the young girl¡¯s face. Those hazel-blue eyes, the way her auburn hair fell into the hoodie he¡¯d bought her. The way she¡­just¡ªeverything about her. Everything, it was too overwhelming. He hadn¡¯t been able to find a picture once earth fell, and since he¡¯d lost the one he¡¯d had¡­


    The thought trailed off as realization dawned. Dream or not, Earth hadn¡¯t fallen here. The Integration¡­ it hadn¡¯t even started yet¡ªhe could go see her! He could¨C


    Alex lurched. Whatever excitement he¡¯d been beginning to feel soured as another realization dawned on him.


    ¡°Hey!¡± The middle manager droned on, ¡°Alex! Are you even listening? When you get to the GM¡¯s office you better have an answer¨C¡±


    Alex was not, in fact, listening. He sprung to his feet, then shoved past the balding man and out of his cubicle. He checked the date, checked it again, and then checked the time. September 22nd, 2023. 11:07 pm. A day he would never forget¡ªthat no one could forget. He only had one hour.


    Fuck.


    Why couldn¡¯t he have just had a normal existence-less afterlife? This timing¡­ it was too much to be a mere coincidence! Was he trapped in a nightmare after all?!


    ¡°Hey!¡± a voice followed him, ¡°Is this what they call cold quitting?! Just what should I tell the higher ups¨C¡±


    ¡°Tell them this, Jonas!¡± he shouted, ¡°Tell them they¡¯ll have better things to worry about soon!¡±


    Adrenaline kicked in and he broke into a run.


    ¡°My name is not Jonas¡­¡±


    As Alex rounded a corner the man¡¯s shout grew muffled behind him. He glanced at his screen saver again: the photo had been from her middle school graduation back in 2020. The last year he and his sister had been on talking terms. Taking a deep breath, he dialed. It ended on the second ring.


    Of course she wouldn¡¯t pick up.


    He dialed again anyway.


    He gave up after the fifth try, panting as he ran through the vaguely familiar city streets. His thumb fumbled to open gps where he had his address saved, then he prayed as he checked his available credit. $62.34 dollars. He chuckled pitifully before nearly emptying the balance for an uber home.


    His heart hammered but he still couldn¡¯t quite believe this was happening. That he was really back. But if by some miracle it was true, every minute was going to count. His ride pulled over and he hurriedly jumped into the backseat.


    ¡°The code?¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s the code?¡± the driver asked, frowning this time.


    ¡°Oh¡­¡± Alex thumbed through his mobile, trying to pull through forgotten memories before he found what he was looking for. ¡° Uhh¨C2832,¡± Alex said, reading off his screen. ¡°Please be quick, it¡¯s an emergency.¡±


    Thankfully the driver didn¡¯t take offense at his haste. He¡¯d tried to make conversation a few times but Alex was too out of it to take part and the portly man eventually stopped trying. As they made their way through downtown¡¯s traffic and out onto the viaduct, he began to type out the longest message he¡¯d ever written.


    He stared down at his phone in bewilderment.


    How do I send this without sounding crazy¡­


    He couldn¡¯t. But without much of a choice, he sent it anyway. Hoping that at the very least, even if she did not believe him, she would read it. It was his only chance of getting through to her. She¡­ lived in Los Angeles. Where they¡¯d grown up. There was no time for a visit.


    His heart panged. And perhaps it was because he¡¯d been sent back here¡ªto a place where such a gesture once held any meaning at all to him, but for the first time in a long while, Alex found his hands clasped together in prayer.


    Please Lys, listen to your older brother just this once.


    ***


    Alex hunched over, catching his breath on the stairwell¡¯s fourth-floor landing. He¡¯d had his driver drop him off at the nearest convenience store, rather than directly to his apartment, and he had run into the stairwell straight from the lobby, opting not to wait for the elevators. His pockets had weighed him down, packed with odd snacks, borax, lighter fluid, and as much Canola oil 20$ could get you in Seattle.


    Which was enough to drag down his withered body, even if it wasn¡¯t a whole lot.


    Even so, he never would¡¯ve stopped to catch his breath were he not genuinely concerned he might faint at this rate. His pre-apocalypse physique was in terrible shape and it was a wonder to him now how he¡¯d even survived the Tutorial in his¡­ first life?


    Is that what I¡¯m calling this now?


    He huffed, lamenting that he didn¡¯t have an inventory to shove all this stuff into, but he¡¯d be damned if he was going in empty handed this time. Everything he had on his person when the integration began would teleport with him and he intended to make full use of that. Even if that just meant ransacking his apartment for a fist-full of nature bars or whatever else he could find.


    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    I hope we paid the water bill.


    His breath came hot and heavy and after deciding he¡¯d been foolish pushing himself this hard for no reason he exited the stairwell. After a minute the elevator dinged and he only then realized he hadn¡¯t even remembered which floor he lived on. Perhaps it was a good thing he¡¯d stopped. Adrenaline might¡¯ve just taken him to the rooftop instead.


    Thankfully, muscle memory kicked in and clicked the correct button for him.


    Floor 7.


    As the elevator moved, he glanced at his reflection in the mirror. His fingers trailed his face with the touch of vague dysphoria.


    It was as if all records of the last fifteen years had been erased from his body¡ªas if he was looking at a complete stranger. He may have been fifteen years younger, but physically, his body was in far worse shape. His frame hung taut and fragile and though his pale skin was unmarred by scars, it hugged his bones like wet rice paper.


    He looked deathly ill, but what struck him more than anything was that familiar look in his narrow-shaped eyes. The one thing that hadn¡¯t changed.


    This can¡¯t be real.


    He touched his stomach where his innards had bled out only moments ago. It was soft, smooth, whole. Then, with a chime the elevator stopped.


    Alex stepped into the hallway, legs wobbly. He felt like puking.


    His mind kept telling him this couldn¡¯t be real. To be back here after so long. To be sent back to the beginning¡­ everything he¡¯d ever done reversed. All the suffering he¡¯d gone through, all the hardships¡ªjust reset. Reduced to nothing. He knew he¡¯d asked for a second chance, just¡­ not like this.


    He pulled out his phone again. The photo was an old one. She¡¯d only been twelve, and Alex¡­ the man he used to be, with that shitty goatee and the dumb smile¡­ he checked his messages.


    No reply.


    It was almost funny. Dream or not, he¡¯d found himself here in the past, and what could he do for her now?


    Nothing.


    It reminded him of that age-old question¡ªthe stupid that no true vet expected an answer from.


    ¡®What would you do if you could go back to the very beginning?¡¯


    It wasn¡¯t as if he¡¯d never had the thought¡ªeveryone did. And everyone had the same answer; they¡¯d do things differently. But what did that mean? A quick stop to 7/11 before the apocalypse? No, that was just his experience taking over, years of instincts telling him to plan and prepare for the next battle.


    Then what, did he really want to relive that hell again, to experience it all as if for the first time?


    His hand hesitated on the door knob and he found himself pulling out his phone again. His face reflected off its black surface and he finally realized what was so familiar about his eyes. They held no hope.


    But so what?


    With a shaky breath, he braced himself, turning his keys. He didn¡¯t have the answers. Perhaps this really was a dream, a nightmare even, but it didn¡¯t matter regardless. If the Integration was going to happen, then he just had to do everything he could to prepare. Because that was how he survived.


    He entered his apartment.


    ¡°...Alex?¡±


    A man turned his way from where he sat on the couch. His hair was clipped close in a buzz cut with sides that tapered off and the look on his face was incredulous.


    ¡°...Cameron¡­¡± Alex said, ¡°long time no see¡­¡±


    He walked past him, into the miniature kitchen and started rooting through the cabinets. Shin ramen, canned soup, a low stock of both¡­ go figure. Seattle was expensive enough that he¡¯d needed a roommate even while working full time and there wasn¡¯t a lot else an indebted college student and an overworked wage-slave could afford time or money to cook. He still grabbed a plastic bag and started throwing them in.


    The TV played some random episode of spongebob as background study noise.


    ¡°Long time no see?¡¯¡± Cameron questioned, ¡°Look man, if you didn¡¯t look like complete shit right now, I¡¯d think you¡¯d just been dodging me. And why are you acting like a squirrel about to get its nuts stolen away?¡±


    Alex noticed a slip of paper by the sink that said ¡®Do them yourself¡¯. He walked past it, tucking the unused slow cooker under his arm, mentally shrugging. You never know, might come in handy somehow.


    ¡°Seriously?¡± Cameron¡¯s incredulous expression turned to concern as he shut the TV off, ¡°Hey man, you know we gotta talk. About all this. And rent.¡±


    Alex paused, glancing back at Cameron for a few moments, trying to remember what he might be talking about.


    ¡°You can¡¯t be serious,¡± the man said, a look of genuine irritation flashing over him, before he took a deep breath. ¡°Man, we¡¯ve known each other for a long time. And I¡¯ve been willing to cover up for you, but this? This is a bit much.¡±


    Alex stared for a long moment. ¡°Sorry- I¡¯m a little dazed out. What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°Dude- it¡¯s been four months, you literally owe me over six grand and I¡¯m not sure you even can pay me back¡ªand don¡¯t say you¡¯re too tired to talk¨C¡± the man huffed, then seemingly calmed himself, ¡°Listen- I really hate to even say this, because I¡¯d much rather help a bro out. But this has gotta stop, and if-¡±


    ¡°¡ªCameron,¡± Alex said, in a serious tone.


    His once-roommate paused, taken aback by the uncharacteristic change in tone. Alex took a moment to think. To remember.


    ¡­shit.


    It had been so long, he¡¯d nearly forgotten about this entirely. And It hadn¡¯t mattered in the end anyways¡ªthe end, which Alex noted was right around the corner. Right¡­ rent.


    The thought brought him halfway between a tired sigh and manic laughter, but somehow he repressed both and looked over the man with a calm gaze. Cameron was a tall man with bronze skin and round glasses. They normally made the man look more tame, but nothing could hide the intensity of his frown.


    My friend¡¯s probably going to die in a few hours. Should I tell him the truth?


    Certainly not in its entirety he couldn¡¯t. And ¡°friend¡± was a bit¡­ no, they had been friends once, hadn¡¯t they? Not close, Alex hadn¡¯t been close with anyone really, even back then. But they¡¯d been close enough not to throttle each other under the same roof, and that had to count for something right? Or, at least it had been that way at first. Truthfully, Alex barely remembered what those days had been like at this point.


    He looked around the room. The curtains were open, fluttering with the night¡¯s breeze. There was a pile of clothes in the corner and another note there, but little else that might be helpful in the apocalypse.


    And he knew better than to enter his room at this point, unless he wanted to take the piles of casino receipts he left lying around as souvenirs.


    He sighed, looking at the man. I¡¯ve been a pretty bad roommate, haven¡¯t I?


    Friend or not, the man was still going to die within the next few hours. Four months of unpaid rent¡­ he at least owed it to hear him out, didn¡¯t he?


    For the first time, Alex noticed the box in the breast pocket of his suit and a long-dead longing filled his lungs. He left the slow cooker on the counter with some of the food and brought the other stuff he¡¯d gathered onto the awning, sliding open the door. He gestured back to Cameron.


    ¡°A quick smoke?¡± he asked.


    There was still apprehension in his expression but some of the tension fell from the man¡¯s shoulders, ¡°Don¡¯t you know it. Finals this quarter are a bitch.¡±


    Finals, huh¡­


    Alex looked out over the night.


    11:34¡­ roughly twenty-five minutes¡­


    Seattle was prettiest at night time. That was all that came to mind as he leaned over the railing. Cameron sparked his cig for him, he murmured his thanks. Lights sparkled on skyscrapers across the water and they looked like multi-colored emeralds in the night. From how people described Seattle before he¡¯d moved here, Alex would¡¯ve thought the city would always be pouring buckets, but when he¡¯d first moved here he found that wasn¡¯t the case. It was more of a constant on and off drizzle than anything, enough to sprinkle your shoulders wet and fill your nostrils with the smell of rain. He¡¯d grown to like it.


    He¡¯d wanted to show his sister it someday.


    ¡°Alex¡­¡± Cameron said, passing the cigarette his way, ¡°You¡¯re in a different kinda mood today. You ain¡¯t thinking of doing it, are you?¡±


    Alex blew some smoke, coughing, lungs tingling, ¡°No, Cameron,¡± he choked, ¡°I¡¯m many things, but not suicidal.¡±


    Cameron went silent for a second. ¡°Yeah, I know. I used to wonder¡­for a while. Was why I tried to hook you up with- uh. Nevermind that, it was unnecessary. But I guess¡­ eventually I just figured you¡¯d have done it already if you were gonna. What with¡­ everything.¡±


    Alex shrugged, hiding a wince. It¡¯d been a long while since that sore spot had been poked and while he¡¯d like to say he barely remembered any of it, he did.


    He looked at his phone again. No reply from his sister still, and there likely wasn¡¯t going to be one. He let it fall into his pocket and passed the cigar back to Cameron, resting his head on the awning.


    Seattle. He¡¯d gambled it all coming here, head full of grand plans. But you have to start somewhere, and as he¡¯d found out, starting with a criminal charge was a death sentence. No matter how minor the reason or how hard he¡¯d worked since then. It all came tumbling down.


    He¡¯d finally made enough to get custody over his sister, to get her out of foster care, just for everything to come out. And by the time it did, all the money in the world had been worthless to him. Coming to Seattle¡­ he knew the truth now, he¡¯d just been running away.


    No wonder she didn¡¯t want to see me.


    He could only hope she didn¡¯t have him blocked entirely.


    ¡°So, look,¡± Cameron said, interrupting his thoughts. He shuffled uncomfortably and Alex could tell they were done with the pleasantries, ¡°I know you probably don¡¯t have the money, man. I¡¯ve seen your bedroom. But I just don¡¯t know what else to do. You don¡¯t talk to me, you don¡¯t ask for help¡­ What I¡¯m saying is, I tried man. You¡¯ve¡­ you gotta go now. I can give you a week, but that¡¯s all, then you gotta leave.¡±


    A silence hung heavy between them and Alex could feel the other man tense.


    Yeah, that¡¯s understandable.


    He turned to face him, giving the man his full attention for the first time that night. Memories started flowing back to him¡ªthe two of them shooting the shit at house parties, getting wasted, hotboxing in his mom¡¯s minivan. They were all far from mind now, but standing out here, watching the city from their apartment, he still felt their echoes.


    ¡°You¡¯re a good friend Cameron,¡± he said, ¡°Better than I deserved.¡±


    His friend had a perplexed expression on his face but Alex simply grabbed his stuff and headed for the door, stopping only to grab a soft plushy his sister had given him and little else. He took in his old apartment for the last time, giving Cameron a half hug. He remembered the man wasn¡¯t very good with his words in these situations, but the squeeze he gave back said enough.


    The next part Alex didn¡¯t say aloud.


    Goodbye, my friend.


    ***


    The view was better from the rooftop. Alex set his bags down beside him and looked out over north seattle¡¯s shopping districts and suburbs, a strange feeling washing over him. Across the water the downtown buildings still lit up the night, but he knew they weren¡¯t as pretty as they appeared. At their feet homeless people would be coddled up in blankets, schizophrenics ambling about without help.


    I¡¯ve come pretty far.


    The thought was unexpected. He¡¯d come up here half-thinking this might be the time he jumped for real. But he really had. He¡¯d used to be an asshole who¡¯d stolen his friend¡¯s money, who¡¯d taken advantage of his kindness. He¡¯d had his reasons of course, he¡¯d had cause for all the sorrow, self pity, and spite he¡¯d felt back then, but ultimately he¡¯d still done it. He¡¯d done a whole lot worse than that in his life, really. Much worse.


    But in the end he¡¯d died trying to save one, hadn¡¯t he? A friend. Now that they were both dead Alex could admit it. That¡¯s what Jordan had been to him.


    A friend.


    He coughed, then reached into his breast pocket and with some hesitation dropped the cigarette box over the edge of the roof.


    These lungs are going to be a bitch in the tutorial, aren''t they?


    He pulled out his phone and started screenshotting, then sent Cameron most of what he¡¯d sent Alyssa before turning his text notifications off, putting little other thought into the message. Goodbyes should be final in his opinion. His friend still wouldn¡¯t live. And neither would his sister, most likely.


    But Alyssa was brilliant beyond her years. If she saw it¡­ well, there was always a chance at least. He just knew better than to get his hopes up believing in it.


    Five minutes left.


    He looked out over the city. Seattle at night¡­ this would be the last time he could see this view.


    At least the way it currently was¡ªwhole and everything. Not in pieces. The city wasn¡¯t perfect but it¡¯d been his city. Once, it had been his entire world, but now it just felt small. So fragile. Those tall-arching buildings might scrape the sky, but he knew one scratch from the apocalypse could send them all toppling. They didn¡¯t call it the great leveler for no reason.


    He looked at the time again. It was less than a minute now.


    The railings were cold where his hands gripped them. The wind gave him a chill and he realized that in his reluctance to enter his room he¡¯d forgotten to pack warmer clothes. He was still wearing his work suit, just like he¡¯d been in his first life.


    It wasn¡¯t a laughing matter.


    But he chuckled anyway in a derisive snort. Money, rent, a bad date, old friends, bad roommates, finals, studying, college, work¡ªnone of it matters. The apocalypse would come and whisk them all away, taking everything with it.


    He looked down at his hands. If any of this is real at least. And if it¡¯s not¡­


    The thought tapered off, too painful to finish. That this could all just be a dream or illusion, that the integration was just a figment of his imagination¡ªit was a nightmare more terrifying than anything Camilla could¡¯ve conjured up.


    His phone rang. He didn¡¯t look at it. Probably just Cameron trying to get him to a proper asylum or something after his last text. Apocalypses and such.


    He made his decision right then and there. He clutched his bags in one hand, grabbed the railing with the other, and hauled himself over the edge.


    Alex plummeted.


    Wind roared in his face. His stomach grew butterflies as it soared past, scything at his hair. In the distance Seattle quickly dipped below the horizon. Ground approached quickly, bringing with it the foul lurch of death¡ªand right when he thought he might¡¯ve actually killed himself, the world shook and he found himself frozen in place.


    A relieved smile spread across his face. He refused to live in a sane world.


    Integration of Universe 39F72, Integration 192 has begun. Please await further instructions as assessment completes.


    Welcome to the Multiverse.


    The world erupted in blinding light.

 3 — Initiation

    As the blinding light enveloped Alex, a voice¡ªgenderless, neutral, and cold, resounded across the world.


    Assessment underway¡­


    Planetary Grading: D+


    Metaphysical Manifestations: F-


    Beginning terraformation. Integrating Metaphysical Manifestations.


    Starting System Announcement.


    The voice shifted to a man¡¯s.


    Natives of Universe 39F72, Integration 192, Local Name: ¡®Earth¡¯.


    Congratulations.


    You have reached a point of development suitable to begin Integration into the System.


    The leaders of your world have accepted our offer and chosen to join the system, and thus, a Tutorial will begin for all sentient and sapient species of planet Earth for a smoother transition.


    One hundred days (local time) will be provided to complete this tutorial, during which you will become familiar with the system interface and how to utilize it. Afterwards, there will be a brief grace period before the planetary campaigns will begin an Invasion to claim your planet.


    You have been given a chance to fight for its sovereignty and become a rising power within the Multiverse. Should you succeed, you will join the many planets under the System as a new Sovereign self-governing entity.


    Good luck.


    ¡®Good luck¡¯ it said. As if it were wishing a neighbor well on their new venture rather than sentencing most of humanity to their deaths. It sent a shiver down Alex¡¯s back, remembering how casual it had all been.


    The announcement ended and immediately his reality shifted. He stood in a dark void in which size and distance seemed to hold little measure and the only tangibles were a distant collage of stars. Distant, and yet they felt closer than they had any right to be, not just in the sky, but all around him, even beneath his feet. They shone blue, red, white, and with colors vaster than imagination¡ªand they all seemed to watch him as he took a step.


    That¡¯s because they actually were watching, Alex knew. If not them then their vassals.


    He walked forwards anyway, plastic bags crinkling at his sides like candy wrappers in the silence. There was no ground beneath him but faint light shimmered underfoot to platform his every step. He came to a stop eventually and tentatively reached out, until his fingers met cold stone. They slid roughly against the chiseled, patterned surface of the first gate and his trailing touch birthed just enough of a glow to see the rest of it there, tall as two men, ageless as time.


    He followed the grooves until his fingers found a smooth orb embedded in its center and a sudden dark, obsidian light rushed from the orb and reached into the core of his being. Space seemed to ruffle slightly, like curtains in the breeze, and as effortlessly as that, Alex awakened.


    ¡°Hello Alex Smith, welcome to the Sanctum,¡± a voice spoke.


    Alex turned around. With his senses back, the light from the stars was now enough to illuminate his surroundings. The Sanctum couldn¡¯t have been called a room, lacking an identifiable end or beginning for walls, but it now felt less the great expanse it had at first seemed like when he¡¯d been unawakened. A vaguely-human-shaped creature now stood in the middle of the Sanctum where it had not been before.


    The Arbiter, Alex thought, That which oversees the System¡¯s Gates.


    The thing had smooth sockets for eyes, a pale blue, almost holographic body, and skin that both looked more textured than a mannequin¡¯s but at the same time like it was laid thicker with slicker plaster. It¡¯s smile was sly and far too jagged to be cordial and it wore a business suit over it all as if of the opinion that it made him look human enough to pass.


    The guise wasn¡¯t convincing to someone who¡¯d seen its true form.


    System. Alex commanded.


    Immediately a virtual screen popped up in his field of vision, blocking out the Arbiter. He¡¯d hardly been an hour without the system, but at the familiarity of the blue screen Alex felt a sudden surge of relief, as if he¡¯d gotten back a limb that he hadn¡¯t even realized was lost yet. Then he looked down at his left arm and it registered with him that he actually had. Funny, that. He turned his attention back to the screen.


    His relief was replaced by pure horror as he read what popped up.


    Identity: Alex Smith


    Race: Human


    Class: N/A


    Level: 2


    Titles: N/A


    Traits: [???]


    HP: 92%


    Mana: 100%


    Stamina: 44%


    Skills: None


    Stats:


    Vitality - 2


    Strength - 1


    Dexterity - 2


    Fortitude - 2


    Perception - 4


    Arcane - 2


    Alex gaped. It was gone. All of his stats¡ªliterally everything he had earned over the years.


    Of course it was going to be this way, he chided himself. Afterall he certainly didn¡¯t feel like someone who had a C ranker¡¯s stats.


    He wasn¡¯t deluded about that, but there was something just infinitely more visceral about seeing his Strength stat back at 1 than knowing that he¡¯d fail at doing ten measly pushups if he layed out this second. And as someone who had been at a bottleneck for years, to see all that effort be erased¡­


    Dammit.


    He clicked his tongue, but left it at that. Perhaps this would¡¯ve been a devastation on another day, but now, with everything that had already happened, it was just more icing on an already unappealing-looking cake.


    He tightened his grip on the plastic bags and, reminded that he was still lugging around pounds of the supplies he¡¯d gathered, quickly vanished them to his inventory. He¡¯d been about to close out the screen too when a notification triggered in front of him.


    Welcome to your stat page! Here, you¡¯ll be able to see the quantification of all your amazing progress. Let me guide you through¡­


    Annoyingly, he wasn¡¯t able to exit the System¡¯s triggered guide at command. It seemed his mental commands had been reset to default. No, instead he had to physically close the screen out, and call him privileged, but after mastering his mental commands after fifteen years, doing it manually felt clunky. It added another layer of irritation to the whole thing.


    ¡­in addition to your three Conditions, each Awakened has six attributes¡ª


    And to even more displeasure, it turned out just closing the window wasn¡¯t enough to get the explanation to stop! It still echoed in his skull with that grating buzz direct transmissions had to them.


    It took him a minute to find what he was looking for in the settings.


    Are you sure you would like to disable Orientation mode? [Yes / N¡ª


    Yes. Please.


    In Alex¡¯s first life it had taken him the entire speech before he¡¯d realized the system guide was comprehensive enough without its ostentatious and¡ªfrankly, uncomfortable¡ªtelepathic explanations.


    The voice stopped and finally there was some quiet, leaving him only with the guide page it had triggered.


    [Stat Glossary]


    Vitality - the capacity of one¡¯s body to grow and to recover from stress and damage.


    Strength - the capacity of one¡¯s body to exert force or pressure.


    Dexterity - the capacity of one¡¯s body to exert control over its motor function.


    Fortitude - the capacity of one¡¯s mind and body to maintain function under duress.


    Perception - the capacity of one¡¯s mind to comprehend and process sensory information.


    Arcane - the capacity of one¡¯s spirit to channel mana and cast magic.


    Patience¡ªthe capacity of one¡¯s sanity to not self-destruct at this bullshit.


    Alex sighed as he closed out the window.


    Begrudgingly, he knew this wasn¡¯t strictly such a bad thing¡ªhe wasn¡¯t stupid. With his curse, he¡¯d been so deep in shit that frankly, nothing short of, well¡­ all this, would¡¯ve been enough to drag him out. He understood. But just because medicine was good for you didn¡¯t mean you had to like the taste of it.


    [Orientation Ended!]


    The last of the notifications winked out, bringing The Arbiter back into view, which was suddenly a lot closer than it had been. Its soulless, plaster sockets glimmered with what could only be intrigue.


    ¡°Curious, Mr. Smith. It says here you¡¯re human¡ªnot fae, not vampire, not a mage¡ªbut a natural born human, yes?¡± the Arbiter straightened, hands clasped behind its back as it circled inquisitively around him, ¡°Curious that you would adjust so fast, Mr. Smith. Curious, more, that none of the stars in this sky seem to be taking special interest¡­¡±


    The Arbiter trailed off as if it expected Alex to spill some secret in the gap. He offered nothing, trying to remind himself that as personable as it seemed, the Arbiter was not a living thing¡ªnot anymore. It was a representative of the System and it didn¡¯t have the urges or desires that those of flesh had, nothing untoward would come of its interest.


    But it was still creepy as fuck.


    ¡°You don¡¯t have anything you want to ask me? No ¡®who are you?!¡¯ or ¡®waah, where is this?¡¯ No?¡±


    Alex supposed he could fake it, but there¡¯d be no point. Dream or not¡ªand really, there was no point to chalking this all up to imagination by now¡ªhe couldn¡¯t hide much from the System itself.


    ¡°Not a talker I take it, Mr. Smith. In that case¡­¡±


    The Arbiter fastened its tie and with a flourish of its wrist, extended a white envelope towards him.


    Alex¡¯s heart started beating in his chest.


    He already knew what it was, and with some resignation, he touched the seal. The envelope disappeared in a flash and the letter it contained reappeared as text on his interface.


    Dear Alex Smith,


    The High Justice Council of the Multiverse acknowledges your potential as the pinnacle of what your world has to offer, and we extend to you an invitation to an alternate tutorial, Nightmare:


    ¡°Stretch your wings! Test your strength! Vanquish evil from all the worlds! The risk may be great, but the rewards are worth it. So come and prove yourself against the terrors of the night! We hope to see you there!¡± - Council Member Justin.


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    Note: This is an exclusive opportunity¡ªonly one million spots guaranteed. If you refuse, yours will be given to the next in line.


    Sincerely,


    The High Justice Council


    The words faded from his vision leaving Alex with just the physical letter. He promptly crumpled it up and littered it onto empty space where it shimmered on contact. It was hardly an explanatory thing, but he supposed that¡¯s what the Arbiter was here for. Not that Alex needed any reminding of what Nightmare was really about.


    ¡°Tell me,¡± he sighed, ¡°What was my priority in queue?¡±


    ¡°What makes you think you weren¡¯t first to receive this invitation?¡± the Arbiter deadpanned.


    Alex didn¡¯t answer stupid questions.


    ¡°Three-million, five-hundred-sixty-thousand, two-hundred and two.¡±


    He grunted. That¡¯d been about what he expected to hear, though it was nice to finally have confirmation. This¡­ ¡°opportunity¡± had to have passed through two and a half million people before it ever reached him.


    Exclusive my ass.


    Sure, he supposed that put him in the top .0005th percentile of those with magical potential on Earth, but in the grand scale of the universe that kind of talent was meager at best. Anyone of what little noteworthy talent on offer had likely been in those first hundred-thousand to receive their invitation, and most of those who previously knew it probably knew to pass the opportunity up as well.


    ¡°I will say, there¡¯s a quite generous signing bonus¡ª¡±


    ¡°Shut up, I¡¯m thinking.¡±


    A white lie. There wasn¡¯t much to think about by this point, lest he wanted to go splat on the concrete in front of his apartment. He already knew what he had to do, he just didn¡¯t like it one bit. And why should he? Just the thought of going back to that forsaken world sent a shiver down his spine and he could feel his dangersense tingling too, somewhere in the back of his skull.


    Still, he had to do it.


    Alyssa, I¡¯m sorry.


    He didn¡¯t know if he had anything to be sorry for, but he still felt a tinge of guilt. The normal tutorial took place on a terraformed earth, and the facts were, if she¡­if she couldn¡¯t take advantage of the information he¡¯d sent, then she¡¯d probably meet her end in those first couple days anyways. When he¡¯d be in Seattle, unable to reach her.


    No, if Alex wanted any chance at all in protecting her, he had to focus on what would come after. On how he¡¯d protect her once the invasion began in full¡ªbecause god knew, no meager amount of power could guarantee her safety then.


    But if it was power he was after¡­


    Then Nightmare it is.


    Alex balled his fists and met the Arbiter¡¯s stare. Above its head a timer began, counting down from five minutes. He matched the thing¡¯s toothy grin with one of grim determination.


    Truthfully, the power he sought wasn¡¯t all for the sake of protection. There were wrongs in this world that needed righting¡ªtoo many of them. And they required more strength than he¡¯d ever known. Facts were, he was sick of being on the knife¡¯s end of the dagger. Sick of the shit you had to put up with when you were weak and feeble in a world full of predators. He¡¯d been lied to, misled, and ruined too many times in his life¡ªand honor be damned, he wasn¡¯t going to sit back and watch as it all happened again.


    No, this time he would take charge of his fate. No matter the cost.


    [4:46]


    The timer ticked down and the Arbiter¡¯s gaze bore into Alex, almost goading. In his first life Alex had spent every second of those five minutes micro-analyzing his options, searching, but there was no chance he was spending another 4 minutes in a room with the creepy thing.


    He¡¯d decided.


    ¡°Very well then,¡± the Arbiter said, ¡°I¡¯m certain we will be seeing another soon, Mr. Smith.¡±


    For the third time that day, Alex was consumed by a blinding flash. And as his world disappeared around him, the Arbiter¡¯s smile seemed to stretch into something deeply unsettling.


    ***


    Signing Bonus Received.


    Basic Essence-Refinement Method has been integrated.


    Inventory has been augmented to Grade C.


    Universal translator has been updated with all Earthen languages along with 500 additional ones.


    [Inspect] has been added to the interface.


    [Identify] has been added to the interface.


    Additional Shop privileges have been granted.


    Your balance has been started at 1,000 Essence Crystals ¡ª non-consumable.


    [Welcome to the Nightmare! The Council of High Justice applauds your decision. What bonus set woul¨C]


    Bonus set C Selected.


    Standard Dagger.


    Leather armor set.


    Beef Jerky.


    [Stealth]


    The items appeared with a thwump, collapsing into a pile at Alex¡¯s feet. He didn¡¯t need to open his System to feel the stealth skill as it settled into his soul, intertwining with his being.


    Soon, others began to teleport in around him.


    ¡°What, where is this¨C¡±


    ¡°Hah! Come on, this can¡¯t be real¨C¡±


    ¡°Molly? Molly?? Goddammit, pick up the phone!¡±


    Alex sat himself on the edge of the grass clearing, shoving jerky into his mouth. The bag wafted an intense umami smell that made his stomach gurgle. Arguably, his greatest regret from his last life was not grabbing a bite before the apocalypse, and even if this would only recover a fraction more of his stamina in his malnourished state, it warmed his stomach regardless.


    Still, 44% stamina was pretty horrendous for what he¡¯d be up against. Luckily, the caffeine from the can of Monster he¡¯d downed was beginning to kick in and it would help him bridge the gap a little, but he should¡¯ve completely looted the employee fridges when he¡¯d had the chance.


    Alex gave a regretful sigh. All around him was chaos.


    people fretting to and fro, panicked and confused, shouting or mumbling as more newly awakened teleported in after them. There¡¯d been only a handful at first¡ªthose like him who had wasted little time on their decision, or others perhaps who were too shaken to think over theirs carefully. Alex ignored the ruckus and began strapping on his armor. Torso first, then greaves, lassets, and bracers. By the time he¡¯d fitted it all, there was already a steady flow of newcomers.


    A voice spoke from over his shoulder, ¡°What the¨C¡±


    Alex glanced at the broad man as he finished materializing, he was built like a professional wrestler¡ªand given what he was wearing, probably was one. ¡°Where¡ªhey, did you talk to that Arbiter thing too? Options¨Cwhat do I¡­¡± he went silent, then tapped the display in front of him and a pile of items appeared at his feet as well.


    Bonus set B, Alex noted as he immediately set his System to invisible. But at least the man had been decisive with his decision.


    ¡°Hey,¡± Alex asked, ¡°What skill did you choose?¡±


    Truthfully, Alex had already seen it. [Guiding Light]. A pretty standard scouting skill that had some particularly neat uses when creatively applied. Almost all of the Bonus selections came with one skill or another, but since the System pulled some strings to increase learning proficiency for the first equipped skill, all the offerings had to be something they were relatively suited to learning already and were rarely too out there.


    But Guiding Light¡­  Alex gave it some thought. Assuming this scenario is the same as it was last time, I could see use in that. Could be used as a decoy. Then someone could loop around and¡­


    The man opened his mouth as if to answer, then closed it again. His jaw set and he looked Alex over with judging eyes. ¡°What, did you think I¡¯d tell you? The Arbiter said only one tenth could make it out anyways.¡±


    And that¡¯s why talking to Arbiter is worthless.


    Alex hardly felt enough surprise at the response to be disappointed. He resisted a snort as the man stalked away. A tenth? Did he really think that many of them were going to make it out?


    He finished the last of his jerky as a crowd developed in the middle of the clearing. There were still people who were out of sorts, but the reactions were more mixed now. This was Nightmare after all, most of them were athletes, mathematicians, geniuses or eccentrics of one sort or another, and they were all here because they had a deadly ego. He heard specific words echoing over more often now: ¡°Challenge¡±, ¡°Fantasy¡±, ¡°Game¡±. He watched as a decently built man tugged pitifully at a gigantic, oversized sword, clearly already regretting his choice in weapon.


    Alex looked down at his own dagger, he saw how his spindly arm bent from its weight. He didn¡¯t inspire much confidence, did he?


    Heck, he was probably more scrawny than anyone else gathered here today. He¡¯d seen the look in that man¡¯s eyes when he¡¯d asked him about his skill. Hardly a passing glance and he¡¯d already been dismissed from mind. He knew what went through people¡¯s mind as they looked at him. He looked weak.


    He glanced over at the moshpit of heightened emotions where everyone had gathered. They all fitted their armor like bad cosplays, straps not nearly tight enough, and waved toys around like they were going to slay dragons with them. There were still a few people with skills worth considering of the bunch. Like the healer with [Bone Restoration] who was currently¡­ making his own bones firmer? Or the buff guy with a good sword swinging skill¡­ who was wielding¡­ a scythe.


    They were a familiar sight. People¡ªnormal people, all things considered¡ªin over their heads, unaware of the death about to befall them.


    Looking at them, Alex suddenly felt his trait tingle in a way it never quite had before.


    Gray clouds swooped overhead, looming there, casting a dark shadow over the field, and he watched as the crowd turned towards him in unison. Their eyes seemed starkly pleading even as they melted into bloody goop. Flesh fell away from their faces, revealing patches of bone and wound. Their empty sockets bore into him intensely and it took all he had not to look away. Then through chattering teeth he could almost hear them call his name.


    Alex, save us.


    The sensation passed in a second. The sun matted the clearing as if it had never been disturbed. No one even spared him a glance. He thought about it then¡ªof going in there, introducing himself, finding a few capable individuals, stringing them together into some semblance of order. Then he caught drift of a heated argument, between that wrestler and a sharp tongued woman as they vied for leadership. He glanced again at his measly dagger.


    No, there would be no room for cooperation there.


    Not yet.


    Stifling a yawn, Alex stretched. Then rose up, cracking his back. His bones were frail underneath his skin and blood rushed to his head in a way that was oddly refreshing as his vision failed for a second. He shed his blazer, loosened his tie, and slid the dagger beneath his belt into its accompanying sheath. Unnaturally fast, the sun had begun sinking behind the mountains, creating a sudden dusk. The forestry was flush with life and the clearing would¡¯ve been the perfect place for a twilight picnic if not for the fresh circling of bony crows.


    Subtly, the influx of new people started to slow. It was about time.


    In the center of the clearing, a dark orb-shaped void appeared. He counted the crowd at thirty-four as they stared at it, dumbfounded.


    [00:59]


    [00:58]


    No, thirty-five.


    As Alex turned the other way, he spotted the pitifully small woman who¡¯d been the last to teleport in. She¡¯d probably spent the entire countdown indecisive on the invitation¡ªand just like he once had, she¡¯d decided on Nightmare in the end. As he disappeared into the treeline he gave a silent prayer for her next life. And in that same instant, he decided how he wanted to spend this one.


    Survival was a goal for the weak.


    Alex would be weak no longer.


    [0:00]


    Nightmare has begun. Starting Players: 999,836


    Mandatory Scenario Has Been Triggered


    Title: Initiation


    Lobby count: 35


    Rewards:


    1,000 Essence Crystals.


    Skill Paths Unlocked for purchase in shop.


    Basic Skills Catalog.


    Clear Conditions:


    Survive the attack or be the one to receive immunity.


    Good luck!


    ***


    Jun had always believed there was nothing he couldn¡¯t overcome through effort. He¡¯d believed it when he¡¯d spent his nights cramming to get into Harvard Medical, he¡¯d believed it when he¡¯d made enough money to get his mother a heart transplant, he¡¯d believed right up until the very moment when monsters started pouring from the gate and hell had broken loose.


    No amount of effort would have prepared him for this slaughter.


    ¡°Shit¨Cshit¨Cshi¡ª¡±


    He didn¡¯t turn as a woman stumbled and was killed somewhere behind him. He heard her scream, heard the voice turn to gurgles before nothing but the wet sounds of a monster feasting remained.


    I¨C I should help her.


    He ran faster.


    Branches whipped past his face, his legs started to sting from countless scrapes, tears welled in his eyes but he didn¡¯t dare slow his run. It was dark now¡ªunnatural now that he thought about it, how quick it had gotten dark¡ªbut he stayed vigilant, preening his ears for inhuman snarls or footsteps. All he heard was screams¡­ and the clang of metal from the giant armored knight.


    It wasn¡¯t like they¡¯d been clueless. It wasn¡¯t like they expected anything good to happen when that countdown ended. But¡­ there were just so many of them! Those sharp teeth, their beady little eyes!


    And that armored knight¡­ it still freaked him out. One of the others had sent a pulse at its head¡ªknocked the helmet clean off of it¡ªand he¡¯d seen it then¡­ there had been no one inside.


    He forced himself to run harder.


    There was a skirting sound to his left, another scream to his right. He slipped on something slick and came face to face with a decapitated head. Only then did he truly understand what Nightmare was. He reached for his sword¡ª


    ¡ªbut had forgotten he¡¯d already dropped it. The creature snarled as it launched itself at him.


    ¡°SHIT¨C¡±


    Jun closed his eyes, ready to be torn to pieces.


    But no matter how long he stood frozen, his body remained whole. And as the fear of death passed, he slowly pulled one eyelid open.


    A man¡¯s shadow blurred and suddenly the creature had a dagger embedded in its neck. Then the shadow shifted and he saw who it belonged to. He was a lanky kid, unhealthily skinny and with a complexion so pale it was visible even with so little moonlight out. He struggled a little, pulling his dagger free as he kicked the limp body down.


    ¡°Nice skill you got there,¡± he said, ¡°Shame that you¡¯re using it wrong.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡±


    ¡°Your skill,¡± he repeated, ¡°Saw you using it earlier. What do you say we help each other out?¡±


    Jun hesitated, ¡°You¨Cyou mean to survive?¡±


    The man looked like he could barely support his own weight, hell, he already looked half-dead himself. And yet there was something to his eyes, the way he scanned his surroundings, the way he carried himself¨C


    He looked off in the direction of the carnage.


    ¡°Survive?¡± The man gave a slight chuckle, ¡°No. I plan to win.¡±

 4 — The First Scenario

    Nightmare Scenario One ¡ª Initiation


    Clear Conditions:


    Survive the attack or be the one to receive immunity.


    Optional Scenario Quest: Vanquish Thy Evil


    Slay the attackers to complete this quest. The High Council rewards those who take fate into their own hands greatly.


    Good luck!


    [0:09]


    [0:08]


    ¡­


    [0:00]


    The dark orb shimmered¡ªwarbled in shape a little, as if it could sense the pulsing hearts of everyone surrounding it¡ªand then expanded.


    A man wearing a wrestler¡¯s garb took several steady breaths. Murmurs of confusion started up around him. For a moment, nothing happened. His hands began to falter on his sword but he just gripped it tighter. The nerves wouldn¡¯t get to him. He was no amateur. He¡¯d won countless bouts in the ring, and to his mind, what was the world if not just a bigger ring? He was in peak condition, in the best shape of his career, and there was no challenge he couldn¡¯t meet.


    Then the weird orb-gate thingy fluctuated a little more. He gripped his sword tight enough to choke even steel as something stepped out of it.


    It was a small, furry little thing. Its height hardly reached his knee and its snarl was high pitched like a childs. It stumbled clumsily as it took its first step out. The others had mixed reactions. Some circled a little closer, some took a step back, others looked to him, expectantly.


    The wrestler laughed, ¡°Ha! Come on, look at all of you losers! Scared of little fur ball now?¡±


    His grip on his sword relaxed as he took a step forward. He towered over the thing three times over and it wasn¡¯t even close. Who was he to be scared of it?


    He raised his sword. He¡¯d been about to kill it when he froze.


    A flicker of motion had him staring into that dark abyssal gate. It stared back. They stared back. Countless of them, red little dots in pairs from the abyss. For just the briefest moment he hesitated. And that moment was enough.


    The creature at his feet bared its fangs and before he could react it had already chewed his throat out.


    A speck of blood landed on a nearby woman¡¯s cheek, next to her other freckles. She touched it, its sticky warmth hardly registering as she stared in shock at the man next to her, his throat a fountain of the stuff.


    She stepped back, eying the furry devil like it might take a bite out of her next. For the moment it didn¡¯t.


    It still had its teeth sunk into the hulking man who moments before had told her to stay behind him, that he''d protect her. He spasmed beneath its bite, then stilled. The thing met her eyes then, giving a scowl rimmed in blood.


    Suddenly, it wasn¡¯t alone. Dozens of its brethren exited the gate, stepping up beside it. And with a clank of metal, something much larger did too, sheathed from head to toe in dark armor.


    They attacked.


    Someone cursed. Someone else shoved her aside as they fled. Multiple voices rose above the others, trying to maintain order but bringing only chaos. Someone screamed. Someone died. More blood splattered her cheeks.


    No, she thought, Please, not like this.


    And yet, despite the field of carnage now surrounding them, that blood stained creature still met her eyes. She raised her staff to chant only for it to launch itself, interrupting her part way. Its claws dug into her sides and she screamed. It was only on pure reflex that she was able to raise her staff as it tried to bite at her neck.


    She tripped and tumbled side over side on the grassy slope. The thing scratched at her cheek and blood welled up that she knew was hers this time. She had her staff wedged between its teeth as it hissed and spit saliva at her face and the wood began to crack. They tumbled some more before finally coming to a stop.


    ¡°Help!¡± She screamed, ¡°Somebody help me!¡±


    No one answered her calls. She yelped as someone stepped on her braids in the chaos. Then with just the force of her will she threw the snarling thing off of her. It was heavier than it looked. It landed with a thud a few feet away.


    She didn¡¯t let it regain its footing. She wanted nothing more than to cast her smokescreen and disappear, to somehow find her way back home, but she knew she didn¡¯t have the time. Instead, she used her staff to strike at the thing. It wailed and she wailed on it, each blow wetting the tip of her staff more. It was no longer a thing of magic or mystique, just another tool for bludgeoning.


    She¡¯d been about to crush its skull in when a sudden force slammed into her. Scenery blurred and she tumbled like a rag-doll, limb over limb, twisting, until she came to a thudding stop at the edge of the clearing. She was on her back. She touched her chest where whatever had hit her impacted and it came away wet. Her arm fell away to rest by her side.


    It was night out. When did it get so dark?


    She didn¡¯t know, but her world only grew dimmer. She looked up at the stars, shining bright in between the cloud¡¯s gaps. Then at the treeline above her as it suddenly shimmered. For a second she swore she saw a person there, but when she looked again there wasn¡¯t anyone.


    Must be death, she thought, Here to take me with him.


    Silence found space in the chaos for a second. Just long enough that if one were listening closely they might hear the ruffle of wind in the trees, of life in the bushes, and the soft scrape of boot against bark as someone shifted positions in the treeline.


    The woman was listening closely.


    She¡¯d rather listen to the sounds of nature than to the man who was stammering incoherent apologies for accidentally shooting her with a magic missile. She¡¯d rather hear the breeze than his choked screams for help as something killed him. And because she was listening so intently, the world unveiled its deception to her.


    There was a man there after all, up in the trees. He was tall and skinny, with cold and dispassionate eyes. She saw him acknowledge her, then he put his finger to his lips in a shushing motion and ducked further back into the forest.


    The man needn¡¯t have bothered. She didn¡¯t have the life in her to even shout. And within seconds, she was dead.


    Alex had watched it happen.


    He¡¯d watched from a fresh perch, crouched on a thick branch in the treetops as the woman drew her last breath. He quickly fed more mana into his [Stealth] skill until the nearby creatures scrambled off, drawn by other prey no doubt. Then he returned his attention towards the center of the field.


    Hell had broken loose on that grass. It¡¯d been maybe a minute, two at most, and they were already down to only nineteen people, including himself in the count. Corpses littered the mayhem and no one had time to pay them heed as they scrambled to raise steel and shoddy spellwork in defense.


    Eighteen now, he thought as an old man got his eyes clawed out by a gang of rabid chimks¡ªthe unholy things.


    There were of course a handful of those that had chosen to run into the forest, but he¡¯d put it to only half of them still being alive given what had run after them.


    Chimiks were small, terrible creatures. They had a grangly look to them, like a rabid albino oppossum crossed with a goblin, but they were child sized and generally considered weak.


    For years Alex¡¯s ungodly fear of them was something he had trouble explaining to others, but just one look at the carnage was enough to quell any shame. He remembered being down there, amongst the others, tripping and stumbling over corpses, ducking and weaving the flying death rats.


    He counted them now. Thirty-seven Chimiks and an Armored Knight. Not an impossible threat to beat if they all banded together, but he supposed that was the irony of the task.


    Still, those that stood remaining were actually doing surprisingly well for themselves. Around the minute mark a remarkable young woman, maybe the one he¡¯d seen arguing earlier, had started shouting orders to the others and they actually listened. She had that sort of aura to her, he noticed. The kind of person people naturally find themselves gravitating to.


    Eventually others just found themselves wrapped in the flow and they¡¯d formed a sort of deadlock formation. A shoddy one, but impressive for an amateur. Whenever one of the chimiks tried to latch onto one of them, the others would swarm in to kill it, usually allowing the victim to retreat¡ªgrievously wounded, but still breathing.


    Alex knew it wouldn¡¯t hold though. And from the way the Chimiks began to step back, he knew they knew it too.


    Intriguingly, the armored knight hadn¡¯t moved from its spot this entire time. It had simply stood near the back with a few other Chimiks, next to where the gate had closed. Now, however, the wave of Chimiks made space for it and it stepped up to the front of the wave. It crouched down in there, positioned like a sprinter before a race.


    Those at the front of the formation cowered as it launched forward. The resulting slaughter made Alex feel sick.


    He¡¯d seen a lot of slaughters over the years, been a part of many more¡ªon both sides of the exchange¡ªand they always made him sick.


    That dark broil in your stomach when you¡¯re marching on innards that ought to still be inside a person and appendages that should still be attached, it never went away. You could get used to it sure, you could even welcome it if you¡¯re fucked enough in the head, but no matter how many times you¡¯ve seen it it doesn¡¯t leave you.


    His fingernails ground into his palm.


    A slaughter was one thing, but to witness a slaughter he should¡¯ve been easily able to prevent made him feel so powerless. It was infuriating.


    Still, this was what he¡¯d been waiting for. He¡¯d known this would happen.


    They would¡¯ve died either way, he told himself, every single one of them. No matter what you¡¯d done.


    And it was true. The people he¡¯d teleported in with were different from how he remembered, but the scenario was exactly the same. He could say with certainty that banding together under him would¡¯ve been their only odds for survival and the chance of that happening had been shot from the get-go. If he''d been only one strong personality in the group there might''ve been a chance but any more than that would''ve just caused a divide amongst them, which was exactly what had just happened.


    No, he¡¯d already thought it over from all angles, this was the only way. If Alex wanted to get any cooperation at all out of the survivors he needed them to understand what they were up against first. He needed them to see what he saw. Needed them to come to fear it. And above all, he needed those who had been playing it safe up till now to show him their damn skills. Only when he knew what he had on hand could he decide how to go about this.


    And so he watched the unfolding slaughter intently.


    Those at the front were the first to get away. They had a better view of the battlefield, a better gauge for how close danger really was, and so they¡¯d abandoned post before the knight had made it three steps.


    Those right behind them weren¡¯t so lucky.


    Someone cast a level-1 shield skill as if expecting it would do a single thing against the charging behemoth but it shouldered through it effortlessly, spearing the man on its shoulder-spikes. Vines erupted from the ground, wrapping around its legs which were a little more effective but it didn¡¯t stop it from sweeping its blade out to decapitate two bystanders.


    The [summon vines] skill¡­


    He looked around to see if he could spot the caster, and he did. Just in time to see him mauled by a chimik. He moved on.


    [Sword Swing]


    [Retreat]


    [Enchant]


    [Minor Regeneration]


    He saw a lot of skills in the frenzied of chaos. All of them were useless for his current needs and Alex had been just about to give up on his search when something caught his eye. A blinding flash in the corner of his vision, aptly belonging to a skill named [Blinding Flash]. It wasn¡¯t exactly what he''d been looking for but it would do. Nevermind that its caster let it off in the wrong direction, accidentally blinding the woman who¡¯d been barking orders as well. She stumbled, losing her footing and the metal knight swung its sword, cleaving her in half.


    Everyone scattered like ants after that, all those that had clung to safety in numbers splitting off into the forest. Alex understood. Something about watching a natural-born leader just kick it like that did that to a person. Made them realize it could happen to them too.


    He grunted. I think I¡¯ve seen enough here.


    Alex noted which direction the caster ran off to then climbed down from the tree. He would reactivate his stealth soon and head there but he had a needling suspicion in his brain, something he needed to check on first. He walked up to the chimik he¡¯d seen the mage woman club to death moments before, knelt down, and came away with some of its green blood on his fingertips.


    He watched as it dissipated into coarse ash before him. It was like he thought.


    Well, that makes things a lot more simpler.


    If not a whole lot more pleasant. He grimaced, trying not to let that anger boil up again. A plan was starting to come together, and there was little other choice than to follow it through.


    It was right when he had that thought that a distant [Howl] echoed over the treelines. Alex frowned. There was something different about this one, not the typical use of the skill. It almost felt like it had nuance to it.


    He tapped his lip in thought for a second then entered [Stealth], noting the direction it had come from for later.


    He set out into the night.


    ***


    Alex plunged his dagger in the small creature¡¯s jugular¡ªthen immediately flinched back in pain. The creature¡¯s sharp, grimy claws scraped to his bones in its death throes¡ªits green blood mixing with his red.


    Ah fuck¨Che twisted his knife in its neck, kicking its limp corpse loose from its blade.


    A level 3 Chimik has been slain!


    +30 Essence Crystals


    Goddamn Chimiks. every single time. He stared at it where it lay, with those disgusting, beady little eyes, determination filled to destroy every single thing¨C


    ¡°Who¨Cwho are you?¡±


    Oh, right.


    Alex dropped his shroud of stealth, shifting his wounded arm behind his back. He knew it should¡¯ve been an immediate kill on a normal chimik, but still¡­ careless. He kept the pain from his voice when he addressed the asian man sprawled on the forest ground, ¡°Nice skill you got there. Shame you¡¯re using it all wrong though.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡±


    ¡°Your skill,¡± he repeated, ¡°Saw you using it earlier. What do you say we help each other out?¡±


    Truthfully, he''d seen a lot more than just his skill. After he''d talked to the woman with the [Blinding Flash] skill he''d been trailing him for a few seconds to try and see what kind of man he was, to ensure his personality wouldn''t be too hostile after what he''d experienced. He''d seen the way he looked as those who had fallen, how he almost seemed to want to stop for a second to help. He was sure he could work with that.


    ¡°You¨Cyou mean to survive?¡±


    Alex sighed. Survive this, survive that, frankly he was tired of just surviving.


    "No, I plan to win."


    ¡°Win?!¡± the man in front of him stammered, ¡°You saw that thing. How do you intend to¡ªmmph!¡±


    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Alex covered the man¡¯s mouth, ¡°Listen, I just saved your life. And I¡¯m your only shot at living. So put it in my hands now and do what I say.¡±


    "Mmmrf!"


    Alex removed his hand.


    ¡°We need to run¨C¡±


    ¡°No. I¡¯ve scouted the area. [Howl]¡ªthat¡¯s your skill right?¡± The man¡¯s eyes went wide, ¡°Tell me, what you were thinking when you used it.¡±


    He extended his good arm, helping the man to his feet. He looked to be in his late twenties and had bangs that parted evenly around a slight baby face, but also a surprisingly solid build for his lean frame. Thankfully so, as it had bought him the time Alex needed to talk to him. He met the man¡¯s eyes for the first time and saw the fear in them, that fear he¡¯d needed them to have¡­ but also recognition? Of his authority? The man scanned his surroundings. Then calmed¡ªif just slightly.


    Not good.


    The shortened spiel wouldn¡¯t do it with this one. He¡¯d co-operate, he¡¯d entrust his life with Alex, but not out of just fear. He was more composed than the others¡ªquicker to calm¡ªhe would have to be convinced and that took time. Unfortunately he was also the only one Alex actually needed. The woman with [Blinding flash] would do as a contingency but his plan had evolved once he¡¯d heard that [Howl]. This was by far more ideal.


    ¡°What was I thinking? I¡­I was just thinking that I had to stun the¨C¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Alex snapped, ¡°I mean what did it feel like.¡±


    ¡°Feel like¡­?¡± The man trailed off as a scream sounded over the forest canopy, ¡°Wait¨Chow much time do we have exactly?¡±


    ¡°I scouted the area. A minute and some.¡±


    Less actually, Alex amended mentally.


    He narrowed his eyes on the man. [Howl] at its most basic was a crowd control skill used to stun monsters¡ªbut from the glimpse he¡¯d heard earlier, the man¡¯s use of it almost appeared to have to dug deeper than that, or at least it had gone on for far longer than someone at his level should be capable of. It suggested that he might an exceptionally high arcane stat, or maybe something else entirely. Then perhaps it was better that he was sharp. If Alex was wrong and he was a talentless schmuck then he might have to scrap the plan entirely.


    Everything rode on his next words.


    And strangely, the man seemed to still have enough composure to give thought to his answer, ¡°I think¡ªit felt like I could feel the skill¡ªkind of. Like there was an underlying¨C¡±


    ¡°Force that that you felt you could shape?¡±


    ¡°Yes! exactly.¡±


    Oh thank god. Alex almost felt like he could collapse from relief. Or maybe he just felt like collapsing in general. His body wasn¡¯t made for all this leg work.


    His bones were still weak and he¡¯d been pushing his flesh to the limit running all across the forest. But he couldn¡¯t let a single hint of his fatigue show. These people needed someone to look to, someone who was a veteran where they found themselves lost and afraid. He couldn¡¯t show weakness.


    But his timer had already sounded. Not with another scream¡ªbut with an uncomfortable stretch of silence. He clenched his teeth.


    Thirty seconds. That was all he could afford.


    ¡°Now listen carefully, we¡¯re out of time.¡±


    Alex snapped his fingers as the man had been about to panic, ¡°Listen, your understanding of the skill itself is fundamentally wrong¨C¡±


    ¡°No! What the hell am I doing? ¡®Win¡¯?! I should be¨C¡±


    He slapped Alex¡¯s hand away¡ªbut he still found purchase around his collar, ¡°No, you listen to me! It wants you to¡ªfuck¨Cstop¨C¡±


    He¡¯d managed to push Alex off. So¡­ so easily. He turned to run.


    ¡°It didn''t have a time limit!¡± Alex shouted, ¡°The clear condition!¡±


    The man stopped at that and Alex barely managed to hide his heaving, ¡°There was no time limit, it just said ¡®survive¡¯. And what if I told you winning was the only way to. What then?!¡±


    Alex could see the cogs turning within the guy, ¡°Then I¡¯d¨C¡±


    ¡°And it is. Winning. It¡¯s possible. I¡¯ve gathered a group, seven of us--¡±


    ¡°Wait¨CI don¡¯t have a swor¨C¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s a wieldable one 30 yards give or take over in that¨C


    ¡°Whose¨C¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter anymore!¡±


    Alex bit back his anger. He was directing it at the wrong person, ¡°In any case, I don¡¯t think he¡¯ll be needing it anymore. Now look, we¡¯ve lagged here long enough that you don¡¯t stand much chance running¡ªand unless you thought you could go all night it was a bad idea anyways. So here''s how it is: The monsters have all left in pursuit of us so the clearing is empty now. That means we can be prepared this time. We know our enemy, we can share our skills¡ªdiscuss our strategy. We convene at the Northern side in one minute¡ªand this time it¡¯ll be different. You¡¯ll have me to guard your back.¡±


    Alex said that last part with conviction. The kind you find yourself naturally projecting after a decade on the battlefield. And as he said it, he felt a glimpse of attention lock onto his soul. Multiples of them.


    The young man squared his shoulders. For the first time in their encounter seemed to address him with respect, ¡°Just one question. When I was with the Arbiter, it said something strange. It talked about those who¡¯d been trained for the tutorial, was it¨C¡±


    ¡°talking about me?¡± Alex finished for him. ¡°We¡¯re out of time. If we both survive this I¡¯ll tell what that¡¯s about.¡±


    Alex saw reassurance settle into the man¡¯s shoulders. He was surprised he remembered a small detail like that, but he could use that to his advantage. He¡¯d let him believe that for now, let it remove his doubt.


    ¡°Alright,¡± he said, ¡°I can¡¯t teach you about your skill right here like I intended, but I¡¯ll leave you with this: Skills are more flexible than you think. You think it¡¯s a push, but you¡¯re wrong. It¡¯s a pull.¡±


    It was a disgustingly simplified explanation but it would have to do. There were snarling and primal howls now, not far from where they were. They were closing in fast.


    The man reeled. ¡°Wait, you¡¯re not coming?!¡±


    ¡°I need to lead these creatures off your trail first¡ªremember, we reconvene on the north side. North is in that¨C¡±


    ¡°I know where North is!¡± the man snapped. He hesitated, briefly, then disappeared into the night.


    As soon as Alex was sure he was alone, he quickly knelt down to examine the Chimik¡¯s body.


    Chimik? No¡­ that¡¯s not quite right is it?


    These things always seemed so obvious in hindsight. He watched as this green blood as well dissipated into dark ash. It was a good thing the night was so dark out, he¡¯d have a hard time explaining it otherwise. He felt a sense of tension leave him as he confirmed his hunch twice over, he was one-hundred percent sure now. And by the time he¡¯d drawn his next breath, he was already cloaked in a shroud of stealth.


    No sooner than that did one of the creatures launch itself out of a bush after him. But Alex had already fled into the night. Or into its shadow¡ªthe night within the night, that¡¯s how it felt to run in the realm of [Stealth]. It didn''t perfectly erase him from those that already had their senses locked in on him at the novice rank, but it did make him much harder to percieve. Choosing it was how he''d managed to survive in his first life, up till he ran out of mana at least. He''d have to be careful how he managed that now. One minute sure didn''t sound like much, but evading such a high number of gazes was the kind of thing that could tire a skill out real quick.


    His dangersense didn''t give him an exact count of his pursuers but they weren''t exactly subtle or quiet hunters either and he reckoned he had almost a dozen. With his proficiency at only level 1 he wouldn¡¯t be losing them very easily.


    For the better probably.


    He had to buy the other man enough time on his end of things anyways. But it still put his body on fire¡ªhis lungs burning from years of bad-habit smoking. He had to hope the abbreviated explanation he gave the man would be enough¡ª


    No. It will be. It was just a gut feeling, but after seeing him up close Alex¡¯s instinct was telling him he''d been correct. In fact, he had the feeling that he might in fact be more than just a little talented.


    It was a realization that only left him with more guilt.


    ***


    Jun rushed through the forest, a new sword in his hand. It was thinner and less unwieldy than the greatsword and he admonished himself for letting his childhood fantasies influence his decision making for even an instant. He worked out still, afternoon on Sundays, Mondays, and Thursdays, but that thing had been something else, unnaturally heavy. He¡¯d had to drop it when he¡¯d fled initially.


    He wasn¡¯t sure how much time had passed, but his eyes still hadn¡¯t adjusted to the dark. He barely dodged a log that came up to his shin.


    Not a log, he realized, but he didn¡¯t let that terrorize him into stopping. There was still a part of him screaming that he was making the wrong decision, that he should stop, turn around, and bolt the other direction. But that instinct had been going off the entire time he¡¯d been here. It couldn¡¯t be trusted.


    Neither can that man, it told him.


    Everything he¡¯d said was sound and it was clear that he knew more than him¡­ but that was just the thing. Jun didn¡¯t have the full picture. For once he didn¡¯t have all the information he needed to make the correct choice. Nor the time. But even so, he knew one thing the man said was the truth. He''d known it instinctively, the second he¡¯d said it.


    ¡°Pull not push.¡±


    When he¡¯d used [Howl] before, it¡¯d been like he was forcing his will onto others. But instead he should be letting his enemies be subjected to his will. He could just tell that it would work. And if it would mean he could survive this...


    Wait, ''survive the attack''? Wasn''t there another clear condition as well? What even is Immunity?


    He huffed, his legs starting to tire. How long had it been since it all started? Was this actually happening? He¡¯d been on a plane about to land in Seattle less than half an hour ago! Was this happening to everyone else back home as well? To his friends and family?!


    Jun could feel his heart cutting through his chest with its beats. The odd scream or yell started coming less and less, so when he spotted the forest¡¯s end he pushed himself faster. And as he broke through, it dawned on him that he had relinquished control of his own destiny.


    He slowed to a walk as he exited the bushes, catching his breath. As the man said, there didn¡¯t appear to be any enemies. But he waited anyway¡­ until he saw another person walk out first from a bush nearby. the young woman eyed him warily.


    Just one?


    Wait.


    Wasn¡¯t there supposed to be seven of them? And the man wasn¡¯t here either! Had the others died on their way? Or were they still coming??


    Or¡­had he been¡­


    The other woman who had gathered came up to him now, her expression more terrified than his. He found mutual recognition in her eyes, ¡°Did you also find that man¡­?¡±


    Jun gave a terse nod.


    ¡°Do-do you think we¡¯ve been¡­¡±


    Lied to, Jun finished the thought.


    Red eyes swiveled their way. Five pairs. The moon only now started to peek through the clouds and he could almost see the metal sheen of the knight there as well. The clearing wasn¡¯t empty at all, they¡¯d just been too blind to notice.


    The woman wailed, cradling her head. Her hands started to light up in a blinding flash, recklessly aimed.


    Jun¡¯s breath caught--¡°Wai-wait! Look, only four of them are coming! The knight! The knight¡¯s staying! We can take them!¡±


    Could they though? They were small but rabid. And were steadily approaching¡ªSense the force underneath the skill. Don¡¯t think of it as a push, think of it as a pull!


    Determined, he let an ear curdling scream out from his maw, loud enough to reach all the enemies in sight. They froze.


    It¡­it had worked.


    Then suddenly the air shifted and the monsters unfroze. Unfroze¡ªand started a rabid sprint dashing directly towards him.


    The Metal Knight too¡ªFuc¨C!


    His system pinged.


    Congratulations, you¡¯ve learned the skill [Taunt]!


    ***


    The [Taunt] had been much more powerful than Alex had expected.


    He hadn¡¯t been close enough to see the battle start, but it''d sounded more like an ear-piercing scream of desperation than a proper roar, like nails on the dusty chalkboard that was his shriveled heart¡ªhe cut the thought off.


    You don¡¯t want to be weak? This is how you do it.


    He sprang from his position. He couldn¡¯t get as close as he¡¯d liked without the cover of trees, but it was close enough. He used a large burst of mana in that instant, making his [Stealth] as flawless as it could get as he closed in.


    The night was fully moonlit now, as it was in his memories. The grass was a darker shade of green and the wind whistled through the trees around them. He could smell it now, the smell of rot. And as he neared, the tangy smell of a musky Chimik.


    There was only one of them, snout twisting in bafflement as the knight left its side, eyes a brighter shade of red than the others. Even distracted¡ªfighting off the taunt¡ªits eyes still swiveled Alex¡¯s way.


    ¡°Too late.¡±


    He plunged a dagger into its heart. Warmth left its eyes and its limbs simply sagged when he twisted the knife for good luck. Its corpse didn¡¯t dissipate, it just sat there, green blood seeping from its wound. He heard the distant clatter of the armor losing its magic and collapsing. He didn¡¯t pay it further attention.


    Congratulations! You Have defeated a Level 9 Necromantic Chimik!


    [+500 Essence Crystals]


    Congratulations huh.


    Alex didn¡¯t feel congratulated, he felt sick. But it didn¡¯t stop him from plunging his knife into the thing''s corpse and digging out its shimmering core.


    Identify.


    [Chimik Core - (Unranked, Common)]


    The core of a Chimik with Death Aura. Can be used as crafting material.


    Unranked, but it had a surprising amount of energy to it. Not to mention the lingering aura of death¡ªthe core would go a long way for him this early. And now that he had a better look¡­ all of the items it dropped were shockingly good for the thing¡¯s level. It was clear the tutorial heavily rewarded beating the initiation. His hand paused slightly, then unfroze in haste as he went through the necromancer¡¯s belongings.


    [Skill Stone (Unranked, Common)]


    Break for a small chance to gain one its owner''s skills.


    [Twin Earrings (Unranked, Common)]


    Earrings forged from mana crystals. Slightly increases base mana regen.


    [Bone-Shard Necklace (F rank, Common)]


    Necklace formed from the bone shards of a Necromancer Chimik. Slightly increases Arcane.


    Wolf-fang Bracelet (F rank, Common)]


    Bracelets made of Wolf fang. Increases the wielder¡¯s stealth abilities and backstab damage.


    Alex felt a bitter emotion reading the description of the last one. He¡¯d been about to pocket the belongings when his ears picked up a rustle of footsteps in the grass, and he put the wolf-fang bracelet over his wrist. He knew what he had to do, but that didn¡¯t mean he would enjoy doing it. You can have all the riches and items in the world, but a knife in the back was still a knife in the back and more often then not it poisoned the wielder as well.


    Regardless, he rose cautiously, tucking the core into his pocket. An asian man stood ten paces away, blood caking his temple, a limp in his leg, ash dissipating off his clothes, only him.


    ¡°You survived then,¡± Alex said, holding his knife subtly at the ready. He hadn¡¯t heard a second roar after the [taunt] so the man undoubtedly had more mana reserves than him. He prepared for the worst as he approached.


    ¡°Your advice,¡± the man answered the unasked question, ¡°it came in handy.¡±


    There was a certain off-kilter energy to the man. Alex had noticed it earlier as well, but it was all the more apparent now. His stance was composed but menacing, his eyes were lightly bloodied and ravenous but still had an awareness to them.


    ¡°Military?¡± Alex asked.


    ¡°No.¡±


    Alex looked into the man¡¯s eyes. There was anger there, smoldering, but something else as well. Surprisingly, it was that ¡®something else¡¯ that Alex felt was burning holes in him. He gnawed the inside of his cheek and left the knife in his belt loop as he walked past him.


    It won¡¯t come to that.


    Then the man gripped Alex by his arm. His grip was surprisingly strong for someone barely on his feet and when they locked eyes once again, hurt and anger gave the man¡¯s voice a deep, shaky rasp, ¡°When you¡­ ask someone to trust you with their life¡­ you need to trust yours with them too¡­ The other¡­ she¡¯d trusted you with her life¡­ just like me¡­ and now she¡¯s¡­¡±


    The man stopped there. No more needed to be said.


    ¡°I did what I had to. And as promised, it helped you survive,¡± Alex said, breaking his hand free, ¡°The rest is yours. I took the first loot but it¡¯s an even split.¡±


    The man didn¡¯t look away.


    ¡°Jun,¡± he spat.


    ¡°Alex.¡±


    Walking off, Alex was the first to break eye contact. He couldn¡¯t be there with that man. His words had felt hollow even as he said them and now he could feel his face twisting into something unsightly. It wasn¡¯t something he had any right to show him.


    They would¡¯ve all died anyway, he reminded himself. It felt like a pitiful deflection now.


    Irritation boiled up. ¡®Something else¡¯ he¡¯d called it.


    How vague.


    The quality he¡¯d seen in the man¡ªwhat had made him trust him¡ªit had a name. It was called humanity.


    Stopping, Alex looked out into the moonlit night. He remembered this night better than some friends¡¯ deaths. The way his sword trailed dirt, too heavy for his scrawny arm. The red blood that followed gravity down its tip. The way his stomach lurched, empty gags and dry heaving, his mana pool bottomed out. The terror of those who''d served to slow down his pursuers had echoed in his mind for years after. He remembered his body¡¯s silent scream¡ªand how the rest of him couldn¡¯t muster even the faintest cry.


    There¡¯d been no other choice. No other way to outlast the others without mana for [stealth]. He''d deliberated for so long on what those clear conditions meant, it provided no other instructions for gaining immunity other than ''be the one to receive it''.


    He remembered what he¡¯d been feeling that night, when the System congratulated what he¡¯d done: Twisted relief.


    "Congratulations! As the last survivor, you have received Immunity"


    The sound of footsteps snapped him out of his memories.


    There was another person, entering the clearing from the trees. She stared back, bewilderment written all over her. It was the small woman he¡¯d seen earlier, before the attack had even begun, the last person to teleport in. She¡¯d been the farthest from the portal, the first to run, the most terrified.


    But still, how did she¡­


    Alex trailed off as he saw her dagger, limp in her right arm, blood gravitating to its tip.


    Red blood.


    The woman stepped out of the shadows. Her eyes were wide and shell-shocked, confused at his and Jun¡¯s presence. Her shape was scrawny, her walk teetered like she was about to pass out¡­ by all means she looked weak.


    And Alex could tell he looked the same.


    She hid the dagger¡¯s tip behind her back, ¡°How¡­how¨C¡±


    ¡°We killed it,¡± he said.


    Her expression twisted into pure anguish and he, better than anyone else, understood what those words did to her.


    There¡¯d been a choice this time. He could¡¯ve just walked away, let it all happen like it was supposed to. But he¡¯d made his choice¡ªand he¡¯d make the same one again¡ªbut all the dress up in the world wouldn¡¯t change what It was. It was true, the woman would''ve died no matter what he''d done, whether he''d used her or not. But half-hearted excuses over the matter only spoke to having a weak will.


    There could be no excuses for the things he''d done this night.


    Congratulations Alex Smith! Scenario 1 has been cleared!


    Remaining Players: 246,753

 5 — Dark Necessities

    ¡°Two-hundred forty-six thousand, seven-hundred fifty-three.


    According to the Great Guild Alliance¡¯s publicized report of the matter, that is how many people survived the Initiation scenario in Nightmare. However, as many others have already remarked, mere figures are inadequate to paint a proper picture of what occurred that night.


    As an outsider looking in, Nightmare is a rather frustrating subject of research, what with the sparsity of verifiable official sources and the many impersonators who call in claiming to have used return stones. We know that scenarios were not all built the same, but further analysis on the matter is proving impossible. And given the characters of known survivors, this information drought has perhaps been inevitable.


    Statistics on their own do not paint a picture, but in the end all we may know for sure is this:


    One million people entered Nightmare that fateful day, and three months later, only two-hundred-seventeen returned.¡±


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Klein Harriston, A Historian¡¯s Meta-analysis of Nightmare, August 2024</li>


    </ul>


    ***


    Alex shuffled in place, the ground making a clammy sort of squelching sound underfoot. Crows cawed and swooped him all around them¡ªundead crows¡ªundeterred by the shyness they might¡¯ve had in life about plucking eyeballs and pecking intestines around other people. Adjusting his interface, he undid the Battle-mode preset he¡¯d made and was suddenly bombarded with notifications.


    Scenario 1 has been cleared! Congratulations on surviving your first night!


    Rewards for Scenario Completion:


    +1,000 Essence Crystals


    [Basic Skills Catalog]


    100 discounted easy-to-learn skills of all shapes and sizes! Low costs and even lower slot-equips! Would you like to download into shop interface¨C


    No, Alex mentally intoned. He waved the notification away.


    Another popped up in its stead.


    Skill Paths have been unlocked for purchase in the shop! Skill Paths are¨C


    Skip.


    ¡ªthe primary method of class acquisition. The skills you acquire can impact what classes you qualify for and these Skill Paths will keep you on target for your desired class! Once downloaded into your UI, Skill Paths will provide suggestions for your next purchase and adjust your strategy after each new skill you acquire¡­


    Alex struggled not to roll his eyes as the robotic voice continued.


    Of course they¡¯d make this one unskippable.


    Not to be mistaken, Skill Paths were important, but of all the functions the system could¡¯ve pushed them to buy after the first scenario, they were not important enough. For one, they were expensive. All but the 16 Standard Class Skill Paths were outrageously so, and even the cheapest ones wouldn¡¯t become affordable for quite a while. At least, so long as people were spending their essence crystals where they should be, such as consuming them to level up or adding a new useful skill to their arsenal.


    Pushing the agenda was like trying to push a degree onto the starving. Yes, you may need them down the line, but they weren¡¯t going to keep the next threat from tearing you apart. And if you could somehow manage something better than the 16 Standard Classes, then it was better to hold out until then. That was something Alex wished he would¡¯ve known in his first life when he originally set himself down the Warrior Skill Path.


    ¡­would you like to visit the Skill Paths section in the shop to acquire¨C


    No.


    Once the system understood he wasn¡¯t interested, it finally hushed up, leaving him with¡ªthankfully¡ªsilent notifications.


    Aptitude with [Stealth] has been recognized. Proficiency gains have been accelerated.


    [Stealth] has leveled up.


    [Stealth] has leveled up.


    [Stealth] has leveled up.


    [Stealth] has leveled up.


    [Stealth] has leveled up.


    [Stealth] (novice) is now Level 6.


    30% progress to Apprentice rank.


    Huh. That¡¯s interesting.


    Skills were ranked from Novice to Apprentice, Adept, Expert, Elite, and eventually Master. [Stealth] was a skill he¡¯d originally gotten to the Adept rank in his first life and it seemed the System was taking his previous experience with the skill to be aptitude for it. It was rare, but that could happen sometimes when, say, a professional archer or someone picked up an archery skill, the system would sometimes boost proficiency up to a certain level. But if that was going to happen for all the skills he¡¯d known? That would be good. Really good.


    Alex winced. He heard the wet splatter of vomit on the ground behind him and he didn¡¯t have to look over to know that Jun must¡¯ve been retching his guts out at the site. Everyone did their first time, but he simply pushed down the sick and continued scrolling.


    New Achievement! You have cleared the Initiation scenario with less than 50% stamina to start with!


    An Attribute has been granted!


    [Half Dead Persistence]


    Decreases stamina consumption when under 25% HP/Stamina.


    Alex grunted. If things had gone on much longer, he definitely would¡¯ve felt the burn of having this attribute missing from his arsenal. He felt his expression lift a little¡ªbegrudgingly, but it couldn¡¯t be helped. He¡¯d been in a rut for a while and Nightmare was known for its amazing bonuses, they felt good, even if he knew the feeling was inherently twisted. They were all slaves to the system, and yet it was hard not to heel like a dog at the bones it tossed you, even if they weren¡¯t worth the ordeals you had to go through to get them.


    But any little bit of power was something to cling to if it meant you might live to see those screens the next time.


    New Achievement! [Reckless Vigor] - You have skipped the Orientation and still survived Initiation!


    +10 Essence crystals!


    New Achievement! [Not Even Close] - You have beat the Nightmare Initiation Scenario at above 75% Health!


    +50 Essence crystals!


    Optional Scenario Quest: Vanquish Thy Evil has been completed! Evil has been Vanquished this night and the High Council rewards justice in great faith!


    + 2,500 Essence crystals!


    Congratulations, you are one of only 17,583 to complete their scenario quest! For this, you have been awarded an exclusive achievement:


    [Great Start]


    +1,000 Essence Crystals!


    [Nightmare Token] x1 has been added to your inventory.


    Those words shimmered in place for a while, over the field of wreckage: ¡°Great start¡±.


    The tangy metallic smell of blood was mixing with the putrid waste of cut-open bowels. He began closing out his notifications until only one remained. Whatever pittance of satisfaction he¡¯d felt towards all the rewards he¡¯d accumulated began to fade away.


    Congratulations, Alex! With only 246,753 players remaining in Nightmare, you are in the top 25% of players!


    Please sit tight, a System Guide will be with you shortly!


    With some hesitation, he closed his system out. There was nothing left to look at now. Nothing to block out his vision or distract his mind. No challenges to overcome. Just a moonlit night like the one he¡¯d always tried to forget. And something told him he wouldn¡¯t be forgetting this one either.


    ¡°Two-hundred thousand¡­¡± the young woman muttered. She was ten paces off from him, closer to the treeline, and as she stumbled faintly into the moonlit he realized she wasn¡¯t a woman. She was a kid, still his sister¡¯s age. ¡°Two-hundred thousand,¡± she repeated again. Her hand was trembling, though Alex noted that she didn¡¯t have the same reaction to bloodshed that Jun had. That, and she¡¯d had the sense to wipe the blood from her weapon, ¡°So many. That¡¯s¡­¡±


    ¡°Over seven-hundred fifty-thousand,¡± Jun answered, ¡°That¡¯s how many died today.¡±


    The young man¡¯s eyes were distant as they scanned their surroundings. They were standing where the first outbreak of fighting had occurred and corpses were strewn messily about on the grass. Alex himself stood only a few feet away from where the woman giving orders had been split in two.


    The exact number hadn¡¯t been something he cared to memorize and he was actually surprised to find it so high. The casualties weren¡¯t an even spread, he knew that, a lot of it often came down to luck of the draw with what scenario you spawned into and who you teleported in with, but compared to the bloodbath of his memories hearing that about a fourth made it this far seemed astronomically high.


    He took in the scene and decisively locked it away, putting it in that box in his mind he did not open. He scanned the area.


    The numbers had been hard to make sense of in his past life, but now there was only one death that weighed there. The woman with the Blinding Flash skill he¡¯d used as a distraction for the Necromancer¡¯s summons. She¡¯d have died either way, but that blood was still on his hands. Just another tint of red. He was used to it.


    Alex had never been a saint. And truthfully, if he¡¯d come back at another time in his life, the young man¡¯s words would hardly have registered to him at all. It was a regretful thing, sure, but a matter of course. But over those last few years especially, when there¡¯d been little chance for a better life and all that seemed to matter was the way he¡¯d lived¡­ I don¡¯t know. Just reminded me of Jordan a little I guess.


    There was a rustling sound, then a clink to Alex¡¯s left.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Jun asked.


    ¡°What do you think I¡¯m doing?¡± the girl lifted a leather waist pouch from a decapitated man, ¡°He won¡¯t be needing it now, will he?¡±


    ¡°We should bury them,¡± Jun said, ¡°It¡¯s the right thing to do¨C¡±


    ¡°Right, two rags of bones and a half cripple, digging twenty-something holes without a proper shovel. Brilliant Idea! If that¡¯s your preferred suicide method then feel free!¡± Brown hair shifted from her face as she snarled. There was a practicality to her actions that raised Alex¡¯s hackles, but she was putting up a strong front if the way she averted her eyes from the corpses were any indicator. He found himself softening a little, if not lowering his guard completely. She really was just a girl.


    One who''s just had the worst day of her life.


    ¡°She¡¯s right,¡± Alex said, ¡°It¡¯s hard to stomach, but if we want to survive we¡¯ll need all the supplies we can get.¡±


    Jun looked conflicted, but he wasn¡¯t the one who protested,


    ¡°We?¡± The girl snarled, ¡°What makes you think I¡¯m sharing? You¡¯ve already looted that monkey thing over there, haven¡¯t you? This shit¡¯s mine!¡±


    Alex found himself taken aback. She had that look of venom in her eyes that said she wasn¡¯t joking around about the matter. One that spoke of violence. He put his hand up in a gesture of peace and she seemed to have taken that as a queue to continue on.


    Admittedly, he didn¡¯t have much issue with that. All the weapons they¡¯d been offered, including his own, were designed not to last very long, aside from a fine-steel dagger he¡¯d already looted from the Necromancer¡¯s corpse at least. That was the philosophy of Nightmare, ¡®if you want better shit, fight for it¡¯. And judging by the power on display last night, none of the corpses would have been offered anything worth looting¡ªaside from another bag of jerky he saw peeking out from under a nearby man. He sneakily slid that away underfoot to add to his food stock.


    Jun got up then, limped some twenty-odd paces to the middle of the carnage, and reached down. The girl seized his wrist as he came up and Alex saw what he was holding. Glasses. She dropped her grip and he wiped blood off the lens with his shirt before wearing them. They were small and circle shaped with wire rims and very much completed his image in Alex¡¯s mind¡ªstraight-forward and minimalistic for a straight-forward man. His expression grew concerned once he donned them.


    ¡°You¡¯re injured¡­¡± he said.


    The girl shifted her left leg back, ¡°Speak for your¨C¡±


    Before she had even finished her sentence Jun had already summoned a well-supplied first-aid kit from his inventory, ¡°Come, sit. Show me your leg.¡±


    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    He looked around, face ill, and after realizing there was really no good place to sit there, beckoned her to follow him. She didn¡¯t.


    Alex winced a little. He supposed there was one person who would¡¯ve been offered something worth looting. Basic supplies like that were worth their weight in gold here and he had the intense urge to scold him for flaunting that kinda wealth around.


    Regardless, if there was going to be an issue of it Alex was in no state to intercede.


    For a second, it seemed there might be. A flurry of expressions crossed the girl''s face too fast for Alex to read. Anger? Confusion? For a second even, it seemed like she might accept his offer before her face suddenly darkened.


    ¡°So I¡¯m just a little girl, huh, is that it? A strong man like you¡¯s gonna take pity on me and protect me? Then¡­¡± she switched her tone to a sickly sweet voice as she batted her eyes at him almost mocking, ¡°If we¡¯re friends, mister, you¡¯re gonna give me that pretty little bone necklace you got there right? Or those earrings the monster had?¡±


    Jun hesitated, stepping back in surprise at the switch. She looked at his outstretched hand, then spat on it. ¡°That¡¯s what I thought.¡±


    She kept looting.


    Not just a girl, Alex amended, A girl with issues.


    The man just staggered off in a daze, his expression hazy and tired. Alex was sure it had more to do with the massacre around them rather than being trounced by a little girl half his age, but he felt sorry for him anyway. If there was anything the girl was right about, it was that he should be worrying about his own injuries first, they didn¡¯t look half as light as her¡¯s or Alex¡¯s.


    Jun¡¯s head was clutched between his legs further uphill and Alex could faintly hear him whimpering. He¡¯d stopped his bleeding with torn cloth, but he still looked done with life. Not something Alex was unsympathetic towards as all he¡¯d done his first night was sit there, unmoving. Sobbing.


    It dawned on Alex how numb he¡¯d grown. Not that there was anything he should do about it. Some things simply had to take their course, and perhaps kind words from the one who¡¯d sent him to his death would be unwelcome.


    Yet somehow, he¡¯d survived.


    What was it he¡¯d said? ¡®Your advice came in handy¡¯? That wasn¡¯t a situation anyone should ordinarily come out alive from, and he sure didn¡¯t think his shitty advice was the reason why he had. He was beginning to have some suspicions, none that should be made in light.


    ¡°What do you want?¡± the man snapped.


    Alex walked past the man a little and sat. ¡°To sit in the only place devoid of corpses maybe?¡±


    The clearing had a bit of a hill to it on the southern end, making it pretty much the only place nobody would¡¯ve tried retreating to. He accepted his answer easily enough and stared off and away into the night, stifling his cries.


    They sat there for a while, just minding their own business. Eventually, Alex was the one to break the silence, ¡°I wouldn¡¯t do that if I were you.¡±


    Jun¡¯s finger froze before his interface, still set to visible. He gave a weary glower, ¡°What now?¡±


    Alex sighed internally. The man had been about to buy the Healer¡¯s Skill Path and his mouth had just acted on its own. Did he feel a little guilty for deceiving the man? Yes, a little, who wouldn¡¯t. But information was perhaps the apocalypse¡¯s closest guarded currency and even a hint of riches, if it made it to the wrong people, could paint a target on his back. The smart thing to do would be to not divulge any of it.


    That said, it wasn¡¯t guilt that drove him to speak. The man detested Alex, perhaps understandably, but he was a good man. And those kinds of arbitrary constraints were the exact reasons he wanted power. So he could ignore them as he pleased.


    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t just unlock the first Skill Path you lay eyes on. It¡¯s a waste.¡±


    Especially for a man of his talent. Given the [Howl] skill had a minimum level requirement of 5, it was clear he was literally on a different level from the others, Alex included. Heck, the fact that he could even afford a Skill Path already meant that his Nightmare signing bonus had to have been huge.


    Normally, that alone would¡¯ve been a signifier that he should have suspicions raised, but after seeing him almost get killed by a Chimik it was hard to. But sometimes people like that made it into the general populace just through the wonder of genetics alone.


    ¡°I get it,¡± he eventually continued, ¡°You want Healer to fix up your busted leg, and yes, these Skill Paths will directly offer you skills, but there¡¯s no guarantee it¡¯ll be the one you need. If you¡¯d even have money left over to purchase it. Besides, once you get a class, that¡¯s set in stone you know? You shouldn¡¯t choose one on an impulse. Without medical knowledge¨C¡±


    ¡°That won¡¯t be a problem.¡±


    Alex paused. ¡°What, are you a doctor or something?¡±


    ¡°I worked with the Red Cross.¡±


    Of course he did.


    ¡°Then what would you suggest I do?¡± Jun asked. There was less hostility to his tone this time, and despite his rebuttels Alex noted that he¡¯d already closed his interface.


    ¡°The Basic Skills Catalog. Look through it, there should be a skill called ¡®Bone Mend¡¯. Pick that.¡±


    ¡°And that¡¯ll heal my leg.¡±


    ¡°No, not normally.¡±


    Jun seemed to have caught his meaning. Most low tier healer skills didn¡¯t work for the caster. Alex certainly wouldn¡¯t be able to pull off, even with his experience, but something told him Jun wouldn¡¯t have much trouble with it. He¡¯d described it as a ¡°shapeable force¡± since he¡¯d been in a rush, but skills were composed of Essence, as were all forms of power in this universe. And Essence was just the intersection where life met power. It was power, pure and in its truest form, and different skills wove it in different patterns for mana to follow. A skilled user, like Alex, could shift those patterns in small, little ways within the skill¡¯s constraints. Someone born ¡°attuned¡± could bend it out of shape entirely. If Jun was able to manage it, it would at least explain a thing or two for him. Might put some of his suspicions to rest.


    Might.


    Jun simply grunted in response. ¡°Your wrist,¡± he said, ¡°Give it here,¡±


    Alex frowned but placed his hand in his anyway. He didn¡¯t think sharing that information would¡¯ve done that much to ease the grudge between them, and judging by the man¡¯s expression, it hadn¡¯t.


    ¡°You got that wound from saving me,¡± Jun begrudged.


    Ah, so that¡¯s it.


    It indeed, was not it. Jun dabbed his wound with some disinfectants and stitched it up with the deft sort of precision that suggested he was more adept than he was letting on, and once he was done Alex realized that there was a deeper purpose to this. That he had been ensnared in a trap so flawlessly placed¡ªand so comfortable, frankly¡ªthat he almost couldn¡¯t complain. Jun wrapped his wound, and before Alex could even pull back his arm, followed up with a suckerpunch.


    ¡°When I asked if you were one of the ones who¡¯d been ¡®prepared for Nightmare¡¯,¡± he said, ¡°You said you¡¯d tell me if we survived. So, what¡¯s that about?¡±


    Alex had said that because he hadn¡¯t expected him to survive. And yet, here they were. He was in trouble of his own doing. Real trouble.


    If information in general could paint a target on your back, then this was the kind of information that would actually have people aiming for it. They didn¡¯t take so kindly to having their existence revealed to the ordinary world, even if the tradition had become outdated once the world was no longer so ordinary. It was a pointless secret to keep anymore but if Alex¡¯s words reached the wrong lips they wouldn¡¯t see it that way.


    And for the meantime at least, with him at only at level 2, and them with all their unfair advantages, they posed a serious risk.


    ¡°It was a lie,¡± he said, ¡°I¡¯m not¨C¡±


    ¡°Bullshit.¡±


    No, it¡¯s really not. But he¡¯d never get anyone to believe that, probably. Not with all that he knew. He noticed that girl now, crouched over a nearby corpse, pretending she wasn¡¯t listening but she totally was. Could she be¡­?


    No, too weak. But she couldn¡¯t be trusted either.


    Alex sighed. This was a crossroads, wasn¡¯t it? The fork in his path where he had to decide how much information to share. He¡¯d given his word, and that was one of the few codes he tried his best to stand by these days, but he¡¯d broken it once today, what was once more?


    On the other hand, Alex already felt like shit. He didn¡¯t need more of the feeling.


    ¡°Have you read any urban fantasy novels?¡±


    Jun frowned, ¡°No, but my brother¨C¡± he cut abruptly off, his expression growing stern for a second. ¡°No,¡± he said eventually, ¡°But I know the deal. I¡¯d¡­ I¡¯d believe anything at this point, what are you getting to?¡±


    ¡°Mages exist,¡± he admitted, ¡°Have existed. For centuries, since the beginning of man pretty much. And not just them, Vampires, Fae, Werewolves¡­ they all keep their business under tight wraps which is why you¡¯ve never heard of them, but they¡¯re out there. And they¡¯re not the nicest of people.¡±


    The man¡¯s expression went blank for a moment, ¡°I¡­ I see. Then¡­ you¡¯re saying this is all their doing?¡±


    ¡°No, but¡ªno.¡±


    Alex clamped his mouth before he could mention that they weren¡¯t entirely uninvolved either. He¡¯d said enough.


    A harsh voice spoke and Alex turned towards the girl, she had a look in her eyes that could kill. ¡°You. How do you know so much¨C¡±


    ¡°You still haven¡¯t answered the original question,¡± Jun cut in, ¡°If all this can be believed, then which of them are you?¡±


    He sighed, ¡°Look, you can believe it or don¡¯t, I don¡¯t really care, but I¡¯m not¡ª¡±


    Alex jerked his head out of the way as something whistled past his ear. A pulse of mana, slicing the air where his head would¡¯ve been before. His dangersense screamed and he immediately whirred on his attacker.


    No. My cheek. It would have only scratched his cheek, but¡­ What the actual fuck¨C


    ¡°Don¡¯t ignore me like I¡¯m some child!¡± the girl growled, ¡°I asked you a question. How do you know so fucking much about all this?!¡±


    Alex watched her heave where she stood.


    Seriously?! She shot at me just for that?!


    Anger began to swell up. She was only his sister¡¯s age, but some children really did deserve to be smacked. He put his hand by his dagger, not yet drawing it. His mind was trying to figure out what skill she¡¯d used to shoot at him but he hadn¡¯t been paying attention.


    He rose, a forced calm in his stance, but ready for the worst. He could only assume she wasn¡¯t a mage, otherwise she¡¯d be levels beyond them already, but that didn¡¯t matter. What mattered was, was she an enemy.


    ¡°State your reason for firing,¡± Alex growled, ¡°now.¡±


    He slid his dagger a few inches from its sheath. A five yard¡¯s distance, she had projectiles¡ªstrange, since last night she had killed with a dagger¡ªbut his reaction time could handle that. He knew he didn¡¯t cast an imposing figure, thin as he was, but it didn¡¯t matter. One wrong move and he¡¯d be at her throat in an instant.


    And it seemed that wrong move was about to happen. Her face twisted into fury at his words and her fingers twitched. He¡¯d just about decided to slit her throat when she suddenly laxed. Her disposition did a complete one-eighty, and she turned her head away, expression all doom and gloom and muttered, ¡°Sorry.¡±


    ¡®Sorry¡¯? Alex almost sputtered the word. Just that? ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± he demanded.


    She had that fury written over her again, but it was quickly quelled. She didn¡¯t answer. Gloomy, Alex decided, that¡¯s her name now.


    Was all this really just because he¡¯d ignored her question? He couldn¡¯t think of anything else he would¡¯ve done. Or¡­ oh, there was one other thing.


    Alex resheathed his dagger, but kept his hand there. ¡°I don¡¯t owe you answers,¡± he spat, ¡°And frankly, If you¡¯re mad at us for beating the scenario while you resorted to other measures, then your anger is misguided.¡±


    He met her eyes for a long second, fury rekindling there. He kept the stare, letting her know he knew what she had done to survive. She froze under his stare, and the expression of pain and guilt on her face as she turned and fled back into the woods almost made him feel for her a little. Almost.


    She was upset because she¡¯d killed for nothing, and for at least a second there, she was upset enough to kill over it.


    Not just a girl, Alex amended, a dangerous one.


    ¡°So that¡¯s how it is,¡± Jun said.


    Alex turned back to him. He must¡¯ve picked up on the subtext of their conversation. He grunted and had been about to rejoin him on the grass there when the man thrust out his palm in a halting motion. He glanced subtly at the dagger on Alex¡¯s waist.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± he said, ¡°For answering my questions. I know keeping your word is not easy for you.¡±


    Alex tried not to grimace as the man continued.


    ¡°But, it does not undo what you¡¯ve done. I understand why you did it now. I understand that I owe you my life, and I¡¯m grateful for that, but that doesn¡¯t give you the right to decide how it should end either,¡± he jerked his thumb towards the onslaught where no doubt the other girl he¡¯d talked to lied dead, ¡°Alex,¡± he said wearily, ¡°I don¡¯t wish to make you my enemy, that appears to be a stupid decision to make, but make no mistake I don¡¯t like you. This place, it¡¯s¡­ I can¡¯t say that your methods are wrong, but I can¡¯t accept them. I just want to be alone right now, please find somewhere else to rest.¡±


    Alex nodded solemnly. But before he turned, he noticed that the wound on Jun¡¯s leg had already healed. There was a cold feeling emanating from the man now, like an icy glaze and it only thickened. The grass seemed to be slightly taller where he sat and Alex¡¯s hairs bristled along his neck as his trait did something weird again, told him things he couldn¡¯t understand.


    He let out a held breath and left the area.


    So my hunch was correct then.


    It only raised more questions. He was feeling lightheaded from the fatigue of the night. His vision suddenly dipped and he was reminded once again how weak this body was when he tripped over a corpse on his way down the hill.


    Fuck.


    He half rolled, half tumbled the rest of the way until he thankfully came to a stop¡ªvia another corpse, ¡°Ahhhh, ouch¡­¡± he clutched his ribs as he made his way upright and rolled his eyes when his health dropped by another 1%. Then he looked out into the sea of corpses. Seven Hundred thousand.


    More than that, even now others must be dying.


    Was Jun¡¯s talent scary? No, the scariest thing about his talent was that it had gotten him nowhere. In his last life, he had died just like that. And he wasn¡¯t alone.


    Of those millions¡­ how many unpolished gems¡­


    The night seemed to swallow his question without answer, and he didn¡¯t feel the pain as he pushed himself up again and continued walking. Continued until he found what he was looking for. A woman, in her mid thirties, brown hair, her expression twisted in shock.


    The System didn¡¯t care about the Integration¡¯s habitants. He of all people knew that. The universe was vast, resources never-ending. Its hunger never abade but it was just a numbers game. And when it came down to it, people like them were casualties of doing business. Nothing worth noting.


    And yet I¡¯m still here.


    He felt a twist in his stomach at the sight of the woman, a rising anger. He met her eyes. Jun was right, he''d had no right to decide her end. He''d had a choice, it wasn¡¯t a choice he should¡¯ve had to make, but he''d made it regardless. He kept repeating that, telling that to himself. He dug deeper, beneath the words, to that box he kept locked up in his mind. Dark necessities were the reality of hard times, but that shouldn''t just be accepted on face value. Sometimes you had to ask the hard questions.


    How do I feel about this?


    Alex gave it thought, he imagined what she must''ve gone through in those final seconds, knowing all too well what dying''s like. He felt sorry for her, but not responsible. Instead, it was the powerlessness that burned. He felt frustrated, enraged, not at himself but at the world¡ªat the ones who had forced this reality upon them. There was a gnawing feeling in his stomach, but it wasn''t the familiar one he''d come to know.


    And it demanded retribution.


    He looked into the woman''s eyes and found he didn''t regret it.

 6 — No Rest for the Wicked

    Essence was not something exclusive to the System¡¯s denizens or the magical world or any other people capable of extraordinary capabilities; everyone was born with it. If they hadn¡¯t then they would not have been born, simple as that. ¡®Essence is the intersection where life meets power¡¯ was how Alex had been told it, but the significance lay in where that intersection existed: The soul.


    He took a deep breath, in through the nose and out through the mouth, his posture relaxed where he sat cross legged under a tree. His senses didn¡¯t have to dig deep to find it there his soul, power, but not strictly his, not yet.


    [Balance: 5,090 Essence Crystals]


    It hung there in his soul with the sort of ethereal weight he imagined a rich woman¡¯s purse might have in a shopping mall, each crystal desperate to be free of its constraints. Every form of power ends up as currency eventually, that was the way of the world. The foundation on which the System was based on. It harvested Essence and then converted it into crystals. Into tangible resources. Power unbound from life now, quite literally, was in his hands. There was only one method to free a soul of its Essence and that was through death.


    It was simple in concept, but hard to rationalize when it was given to you with a ding! and a cathartic level-up. It was only when you sat alone in silence with your soul, feeling that weight settle in, that understanding came with it. Essence, essentially, was unbound power.


    Alright, how much should I use?


    Essence required to Level 3: 150


    Essence required to Level 4: 250


    Essence required to Level 5: 350


    Essence required to Level 6: 500


    Essence required to Level 7¡­


    Alex did the math for a quick second. His body ached all over, his stamina bar was low to the point where he could feel the exhaustion in his bones, and his mind was hazy and hard to focus. Truthfully, he just wanted to dump the whole thing into levels and wretch himself from this paper-skinned cage of a body that could crumple with a touch, but he knew that would be a waste of Essence. Leveling up was easy, it was getting the most out of those levels that was the hard part.


    There was an ideal pace to the process. One that took weeks, if not months to completely figure out. Alex had had fifteen years.


    As he reached out, that ethereal weight seemed to shudder, sensing his intention for it.


    Unknown Essence-Refinement Method has been Triggered. Are you sure¡ª


    Alex groaned. He would have to disable the safety check on transactions, those things could get people killed in the heat of battle.


    Yes.


    750 Essence Crystals have been consumed!


    [You have leveled up!]


    [You have leveled up!]


    [You have leveled up!]


    +3 Skill Slots


    [Alert: You are currently Charged]


    Alex¡¯s body gave off a light shimmer as his veins flushed with power. Threads of Essence wove his flesh and mind like traces on a circuit board, soldering that essence into his very soul.


    The System also had a basic refinement method that came with the sign-on bonus. It couldn¡¯t just let them die before figuring out how to even level after all, but the process was¡­ sterilized. Efficient, clean, and without a soul. It was blunt in its operations, and it would only do the bare minimum of one stat per level. But those with talent¡ªthose like Jun¡ª would figure out that it was a suboptimal method. That there was more to gain from the essence if you implemented some simple changes.


    And if his hunch was right, Jun had figured that out on his first try.


    Goddamned monsters.


    And yet, now he was one of them. If not ahead of them in this area. It had taken him over a month before he finally figured out how to refine his essence outside of the system given methods, and it had immediately made a massive difference. Essence that was once unbound became fused with his existence, nestling deep into his soul and eroding and mending with what was already there until it was simply a part of it. A part of him, and a part of his power over the world.


    His skin didn¡¯t stop tingling however. He was still Charged, that power still vibrated there and it needed an outlet before that feeling went away.


    [Alert: You are currently Charged. Your time is limited. Apply Essence to your stats]


    Alex¡¯s attention went to his stats. Mind, Body, and Spirit. If Essence was at the heart of existence, then stats were its lifeblood. They were what allowed him to exert influence of any kind over the world and it was only through binding that Essence to his stats that those three pillars grew further tethered to the soul, that he became more singular.


    Refine. Bind. Affix.


    There would be no affixing, at least not right now. Alex could do with just his [Stealth] skill for the moment. Instead, he focused on the Binding part of the process.


    He thought of the ache in his bones as he¡¯d run through the forest. The protest of his legs---not only to move---but to move with the deft precision required of the skill, it¡¯d been like trying to swim the butterfly with limbs made of lead. The shudder in his lungs was again made tangible in his mind. He could still feel the cold of the night as he zipped past plumes of lost breath and his brain''s foggy haze as it tracked every single gaze that landed on his back---all the while working out how to shake them off it. He was still in that forest, dead leaves crunching to dust underfoot, dagger tight in hand, the Necromancer in sight of its edge. It¡¯d taken will, it¡¯d take composure, it¡¯d take Fortitude.


    His eyes snapped open.


    Essence has integrated with the Fortitude stat!


    Fortitude +3


    Essence has integrated with the Vitality stat!


    Vitality +1


    Essence has integrated with the Dexterity stat!


    Dexterity +1


    The charged feeling left Alex like electricity through his fingertips, leaving behind a version of himself that was suddenly more. He whistled as the notifications flickered by.


    Five stat points with three levels hm? Not bad, not bad.


    Alex couldn¡¯t help the smile that tugged at his face. That was a much better conversion than he expected given how short his role in the battle had been. It grew exponentially harder to level up and gain stats with each level the higher up you went, and with how long he¡¯d been stuck at a dead end he¡¯d forgotten how satisfying it felt to increase his stats. Especially at the beginning when even the smallest improvements were like steroids to his work-crippled shape.


    But that¡¯s exactly what they were, steroids. You couldn¡¯t simply pop a pill in your mouth and expect your body to bulk like a barbarian¡¯s, you had to train your stats to squeeze the most out of the upgrade.


    Sure, his stats would still increase if he leveled up some more this instant, but like it¡¯d be a waste. Post-battle meditation had its limits as a training method and that just hadn¡¯t been more than a three-level fight. Moreover, he couldn¡¯t yet guide his essence when in a charged state. The essence simply binded to wherever he would be the most exerted, and right now Alex needed Strength more than he did Fortitude.


    Not that I¡¯m complaining.


    Perhaps it could¡¯ve been a tad more efficient with a proper cycling technique rather than just his modification of the system¡¯s default refinement method, but this would do. There wasn¡¯t much incentive in choosing a specific method until he had his Foundation Class, and that wouldn¡¯t happen until he reached Level 15. He opened up his Interface to see how it all reflected on his stat spread.


    Alex Smith


    Race: Human


    Class: N/A


    Level: 5


    Titles: N/A


    Attributes: [Half-Dead Persistence]


    HP: 87%


    Mana: 39%


    Stamina: 28%


    Skills:


    [Stealth] Lvl 6 (novice)


    Stats:


    Vitality - 3


    Strength - 1


    Dexterity - 3


    Fortitude - 5


    Perception - 4


    Arcane - 2


    Mmh. Good.


    Having had a small taste of power Alex had the intense urge to grab the other three-thousand or so Essence Crystals and guzzle them right down. Instead he grunted, turning the screen off.


    He stood up and stretched the stiffness out of his legs from the hour he¡¯d spent sitting. He brushed dirt and dust from his butt, setting out for a walk. His pace was brisk, more energized than it had any right to be at his stamina level and his logical side told him to conserve his energy. He listened, if only a little.


    It wasn¡¯t by much, but this body felt just a tiny more like his now and for what it was worth he did have more energy now. Not a lot¡ªmore Fortitude only increased his Stamina pool, not the bar itself¡ªbut 28% of a bigger pool was still more than before. It was progress. And progress was a refreshing feeling for him. If he¡¯d felt any ounce of regret for how the night had gone, well, he certainly didn¡¯t anymore.


    The things people do for power.


    Alex hummed. He skipped for a little, before he decided it was in ill taste with all the blood shed this night. Then he just walked.


    The night took an unnaturally somber tone as he listened for the sounds of life in the forest and heard none. The trees still had leaves on them, but shriveled as they were they more scraped against each other in the breeze than rustled. And the trunks that they belonged to were hollow husks of the things they should be, with bark that peeled like scab and roots that writhed in dusty soil.


    Animal calls carried over every so often but undead only did it out of habit more than anything. There was little in this world that was still living, and so naturally, little life to listen for. The surge of power-high he¡¯d experienced quickly faded from his hum, replaced by the reality that it was not nearly enough. Afterall, Alex knew all too well the things people did for power.


    Which was why he was heading away from the clearing rather than towards it.


    It¡¯d been maybe thirty minutes by his count since he¡¯d set out, and he kept walking until suddenly there was a barrier before him. It was a wall of heavy mist, stretched to each of his horizons in a curved line as if it formed a massive circle around the clearing he¡¯d come from, encircling them. He could hear ill whispers from inside, light, airy things. They tugged at his emotions, made gaps in his thoughts, and attempted to penetrate his mind.


    Then further in he could hear more sinister things. Creatures that he had no hope of surviving. Things that would tear him limb from limb if they ever found him. Stepping into the fog would mean death, and not a quick one either.


    Best hope they don¡¯t notice me then.


    [Stealth]


    A cloak of night followed Alex as he stepped into the mists. He needed his proficiency with the skill to rise quicker than it currently was. As far as training methods went, this would be as effective as any.


    ***


    Alex scrambled out of the mists, half-stumbling and half-clambering over himself as he latched onto a tree for support.


    Je-jesus christ¡­


    He shuddered uncontrollably as his dangersense shrieked. They were still tearing him apart with their eyes, even if they couldn¡¯t pass the mist¡¯s barrier to do the act for good. Alex had forgotten how terrifying Wraiths could be, cause thankfully it¡¯d been a long fucking time since he¡¯d had to deal with them


    He picked himself up on weak knees and retreated further into his side of the forest. And when he¡¯d gone far enough that his trait stopped telling how fucking screwed he was, he mustered up enough confidence for a sly grin.


    [Stealth] has leveled up.


    [Stealth] has leveled up.


    [Stealth] has leveled up.


    [Stealth] has leveled up.


    Proficiency with [Stealth] is 50% towards Apprentice.


    [Mana: 13%]


    Four levels¡­ It was hardly a small bounty for the amount of time he put in, even considering his improved proficiency rate from his ¡°aptitude¡±. It wasn¡¯t quite so many levels as he¡¯d gained in half the time with the Chimiks, but it¡¯d come at a much lower cost to his mana and that counted for something. As long as it didn¡¯t dip below 10% his bar should still recover enough for tomorrow with some rest.


    Besides, in the long run, genuinely trying to improve the skill was a much more consistent way of leveling than putting yourself in situations that nearly breaks it. The game with the Chimiks had been more tag-and-seek than complete stealth because he¡¯d known deep down he could get out of whatever sticky situation he¡¯d landed himself in. Here, he hadn¡¯t been so sure.


    He allowed one more shudder to pass through him before he composed himself. The ghastly shrieks and whispers of the mists faded away as he put more distance between them.


    Lost souls, he thought, with a pang of sorrow.


    He let that pass through him too. It wasn¡¯t his sorrow, he knew. But nobody went through the mists without taking something extra that wasn¡¯t their own out with them. And if you took too much, it could drive a person mad. He would know, he¡¯d spent far too much time stranded in those mists once. This method of training his [Stealth] wasn¡¯t something he¡¯d made up on the fly afterall.


    Alex sighed, his legs still a little wobbly at the memory. He took a breather and slumped up against a tree trunk.


    One thing at a time, he reminded himself.


    If he set himself up well during the second scenario this time, something like that would never happen again. So he began calculating his chances. The second scenario.


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    He didn¡¯t entirely know what methods the System used to sort people into their Scenarios, but he knew it couldn¡¯t entirely be random. Afterall, there were hundreds of Initiation types and he¡¯d somehow ended up with the exact same one¡ªif not with the same people, which meant it wasn¡¯t entirely pre-determined either. So would the second scenario end up being the same as last time?


    There was no way to tell. He¡¯d just have to be ready for anything.


    Some people speculated that the System¡¯s placements were roughly based on power level or more accurately, power potential.


    Particularly high level mages would be spawned in with lower tiered players, or a gang of averages might be placed in one together. Jun wasn¡¯t a mage, but Alex imagined he ranked pretty high up there in the system¡¯s estimation, so it wouldn¡¯t be odd if he didn¡¯t come across any others until the third scenario.


    That¡¯d be good. As I am right now, a single mage or Vampire finds me and I¡¯m as good as dead.


    He decided it didn¡¯t matter whether or not the second scenario was the same as last time. He would crush it regardless. And once he did that he¡¯d be better equipped for anything he might come across. Or almost anything.


    Thankfully, the System didn¡¯t allow any previously awakened beings into Nightmare if their translated level was above its threshold, so he wouldn¡¯t be meeting any level 100 practitioners or anything but he knew it still wouldn¡¯t matter if he came across the wrong ones. He¡¯d survived worse things.


    He¡¯d survived camilla.


    I guess there¡¯s one other reason to not come across anyone too talented though.


    Alex craned his neck to get a look at the sky. It shifted in and out of the canopy in tune with the wind, the dark sky full of stars.


    It felt odd seeing them now. Dykriest, back on Uern, had been a region composed entirely of underground caverns¡ª ¡®the layers¡¯ they called them. He¡¯d lived most of the last decade there, without a sky to look upon. He¡¯d grown almost used to it. Now, they glowed slightly brighter here than they did even back on Earth and it was beautiful, if not a bit unsettling.


    The Constellations glimmered in the sky and Alex could only look upon them for a short time before he averted his gaze. Their brightness signified that they were watching.


    Not him¡ªnot yet, but they each had their own stakes in Nightmare, their own pieces in the game, and the longer Alex could avoid their attention the better it was for him. They tended not to care what pawns they had to sacrifice in their games, but for now their attention lay solely on their own chosen pieces. It was best to keep it that way.


    Luckily, there weren¡¯t all that many from the magical world on Earth who had come to Nightmare. They had all known the dangers of the tutorial. And moreso, they knew the dangers represented by those who had been sent to participate within it. Only the strong, or the desperate would join, the rest would stay with their clans on Earth. Most would be heirs and scions from all sorts of deadly groups of mages, those that ran the world from the shadows, all while hiding their existence from the mundane. And while back on Earth they were officially under truce of the shoddy coalition, here it was a different story.


    A lot at stake all around. He gave a wry chuckle as he pushed himself back up to his feet and continued on. A lot rested on which one of them ended Nightmare on top, and no matter who it was, the peace between the different mage clans wouldn¡¯t hold. Not when the entire world was up for grabs now.


    Of course, Alex knew which of them would take rank 1. The bastard was a Nightmare in human skin. A nightmare that to this day still hadn¡¯t left Alex¡¯s dreams. No, attracting attention would not do. He needed to grow a lot stronger first.


    God knows what¡¯d happen if I had let that slip out to Jun.


    He walked on, taking the scenic route back, if there even was such a thing. His skin still felt so alien to him and he felt himself clinging dangerously to the familiar burn of exhaustion as if it were a pyre that would create the ashes from which he would rise.


    Pace yourself, he chided, One thing at a time.


    Jun, he supposed, was another mystery. Or perhaps less a mystery to him now than a puzzle. He had all but confirmed that he was born attuned, but there was something deeper there too, a unique singe in the back of Alex¡¯s mind as he gazed at him. As if he¡¯d just been given good metal and it was up to him what to shape from it. The puzzle was what he should do about it.


    The answer was probably nothing. He was a different person now from the young, scared guy who¡¯d barely survived Nightmare before making a desperate escape. He knew a lot more than he had back then, he¡¯d experienced things that even though they had been cleansed from his body, still burned in his mind. He would see Nightmare through to its end, and he didn¡¯t need help to do it.


    Besides, he knew Jun¡¯s type. Good men who refused to accept the injustice of reality. Good men weren¡¯t built for Nightmare. But if broken, they could become good weapons.


    I could break him. Chisel away the unnecessary parts. Narrow his will, sharpen it into something useful.


    No. That wouldn¡¯t work. He¡¯d end up too broken, a failure. They always did.


    I could go slower this time. Replace him piece by piece, bit by bit. He might not even recognize the change.


    No.


    No. Alex would not do that. Desperate times called for desperate measures and he was not fucking desperate. He had all the pieces laid out before him, and he knew something those fuckers in the sky didn¡¯t¡ªhe knew where they would land. He was the one in control this time. And god knew he would press that advantage to its fullest.


    I¡¯ll keep it in the back pocket then.


    He sighed.


    It was then that he noticed it.


    An odd scratching sound arose off to Alex¡¯s left. A rhythmic, harsh thing like nails dragged along sandpaper, overlayed with a hushed, almost hoarse whimper. How long had it been going on for?


    Irrelevant. Whatever it was, it hadn''t noticed him yet. His trait was calm and the sound wasn¡¯t coming any closer nor was it increasing its intensity. There shouldn¡¯t be any hostiles in the area so far as Alex remembered, but his paranoia had saved him too many times to discount. Better to confirm it than risk being killed in his sleep. Especially if it meant a more restful sleep.


    [Mana: 17%]


    It¡¯d recovered some from his rest stop earlier but he still grimaced. Then he entered [Stealth] for what, he hoped, would be the last time that night.


    Alex¡¯s night vision had always been good, even before any of this. He was sure part of it had to do with having Perception stat four times higher than the regular human, but part of it was just the way he¡¯d grown up.


    He¡¯d always been scared of the things that went bump in the night, of the things he could almost sense but couldn¡¯t quite confirm were real. His trait had been weak back then, practically just a figment of his imagination, but it was the one thing that¡¯d been his even before he¡¯d awakened. He¡¯d grown used to getting the sense that things weren¡¯t quite right before bad things happened and it¡¯d made him into a rather jumpy child.


    All that is to say, when his trait suddenly imprinted a cold burn in the back of his neck, he was taken back to his childhood again. Reminded of the scared boy who would hide beneath the blankets when the lights went off. It was doing that thing again, telling him things he couldn¡¯t understand. It¡¯d been doing that a lot lately, ever since he¡¯d visited those boss chambers. Ever since he¡¯d died.


    He faded further into the night.


    It was in the little things¡ªin the way the twigs and leaves underfoot seemed to avoid his path, the way the dark shifted a little to congeal the most of his breath, or in how his breath itself seemed to come just short of a living thing¡¯s cadence. He crouched low, circling the trees, his dagger at the ready well before it could¡¯ve been heard leaving its sheath. The feeling suddenly faded.


    That girl, Gloomy, was sitting there, hunched over, scratching at the ground. Her fingertips were raw and bloody, her nails chipped and crusted red as they drove fervently deeper. A dead world had no need for soft soil, she came loose with only a surface layer of dirt each time. But then he saw how deep she had already gone, the pile of dirt collected besides her. There was a determination to her seemingly senseless actions that made him grip his dagger tighter.


    There¡¯s something buried there, he thought.


    There wasn¡¯t. It only was when he noticed the second figure, hidden further behind some foliage that he finally understood. He was a scholarly looking man with dark skin and a business suit not dissimilar to Alex¡¯s own. And he was dead.


    A sharp line had split his throat, sharp and neat enough that Alex himself might¡¯ve thought he¡¯d done it if he¡¯d woken up to the man after a night of too many spirits. It had him thinking of hasty actions as he looked at the young girl who must¡¯ve drawn it. A pointless death at her hands. Pointless, because if she¡¯d held off just a little longer they both would¡¯ve lived.


    The cleanliness of the kill still bothered him. A girl didn¡¯t have to be a mage to be dangerous, he knew. Didn¡¯t even have to be powerful.


    But then there was that whimper again. A soft hic under her breath as she continued digging. A dry sound, the sound one made when there was no moisture left to give and all too much reason to give it. It carried right past his ears and registered on a level too personal to ignore.


    This is private, he realized, this is not mine to see.


    He left the girl alone.


    He couldn¡¯t say for certain whether the cold burning sensation had been a bad feeling after all. Just unfamiliar. That was the scary part. To not know himself after all those years was both terrifying and exciting. It meant he was changing. Not just him, but his Trait as well, and he didn¡¯t yet know in what way.


    Still, he didn¡¯t trust the girl. Child or not, he would cut her out the instant she became a threat. But just as a priest didn¡¯t take a life in his place of worship, Alex would not kill a person in their place of grieving.


    It¡¯d been maybe a couple hours away and before Alex had even entered the clearing the smell had hit him. It was always so much worse after they had time to marinate. He swatted in irritation at the air around him, a buzzing sound filling the space.


    Christ, even the flies are undead.


    He spotted Jun, up on the slope of the hill. His chest rose and fell just slightly. It seemed at least one of them had managed to sleep. Everyone reacted differently to shock he supposed.


    As for Alex, he could already tell this was going to be a restless night. It used to be that he could fall asleep at will and wake himself at the first hint of danger, but this body was too used to shrugging off stress and sleepiness. After pushing it so far he couldn¡¯t trust himself to wake if he needed to, and now the possibility that he might need to was there in his brain.


    He¡¯d considered killing both Gloomy and Jun to just feel secure. But there were certain lines Alex didn¡¯t want to cross. To stop even caring¡ªthat was when you truly lost your humanity. When he would become no better than the monsters that were causing all of this.


    He looked up at the stars again. He would not break so easily. Not this time.


    Deciding to just live with the fact that he would have to rest with one eye open, Alex started to search for a place to rest. Diving that deep into stealth even for just seconds had been enough to take his mana down to 13%. If he ever wanted to see that bar refilling he ought to still his movements.


    He wasn¡¯t quite so optimistic about his stamina bar returning on a sleepless night, but that would be fine for now. There was an idea starting to form, a way to put even that to good use, maybe, assuming things went as they once did.


    Staying in this field of death even a few more seconds wasn¡¯t something Alex took great joy in, but he found himself wading through it anyways, a purple-dark glint catching his eye in the dark. There was a subconscious pull to it, an inexplicable feeling that he¡¯d overlooked something the last time he¡¯d been here.


    Soon, he found himself standing before that woman again, the one he¡¯d tricked. She hardly registered in his vision anymore¡ªhell, to a part of him this all felt like it had happened yesterday. Instead, he was looking at the empty suit of armor that had collapsed beside her.


    It was a gigantic thing¡ªcrafted to fit a human, undeniably, but only if they happened to be eight feet tall. It certainly wouldn¡¯t fit him, that was for sure. But he knelt down anyway and lay his palm flat against its cold surface as he used Identify. What he saw made him burst out into laughter.


    [Abandoned Armor]


    Trait: Malleability


    A giant armor-set that stood in decoration long after its manor was abandoned. For its fifteen generations of existence and servitude, it has never had a warrior to call master.


    It was a Nightmare-specific brand of irony; the most priceless item of the bunch being a giant-fitted, unusable set of armor that would¡¯ve been overlooked nine times out of ten. But it wasn¡¯t the trait that caught Alex¡¯s eye. Malleability mostly meant that it would be pliable to soul manipulation, which was great no doubt, but its potential lay deeper than that. In something that only he was uniquely situated to take advantage of.


    System, open Shop.


    Welcome to your Shop Interface, Alex. Your shop is home to--


    He quickly batted all that away.


    Would you like to visit the System Shop, your Catalogs, or your Personal library today?


    Alex had been about to head straight to the Main shop when a thought struck him. If the system had been interpreting his previous experience with skills as aptitude, then what about¡­


    Personal Library.


    Welcome to your Personal Library. Here, you will find all the skills you own but have not learned yet, including skills you have already bought, have loaned out, or have temporary holdings on. To see your sorting options¡­


    Alex wasn¡¯t listening as the guide continued. He just stayed there for a while, struck speechless.


    [Meld]


    [Instant Dry]


    [Cut]


    [Energy Pierce]


    ¡­


    If looking at his stat page for the first time had felt like he shattered into pieces, then this was the opposite of that feeling. Like looking around you and finding that all those glass pieces still slotted perfectly in place when you fit them back together. It almost brought a tear to his eye, it was so beautiful. All the skills he¡¯d once had¡­ they were all here.


    Oh, right.


    He scrolled down until he found what he was looking for. Then he selected it.


    Skill [Examine] has filled a skill slot.


    And just like that, it was done. He didn¡¯t have to pay anything. Heck, he didn¡¯t even have to actually learn it. At least not anymore than he had all those years ago when he¡¯d still operated out of something he could¡¯ve called a shop. It simply affixed itself, taking that essence he¡¯d bound to his stats and twisting it into a familiar shape, a pattern of essence that¡ªwhen mana flowed through it¡ªdid nothing more or less than simply tell you more about an object.


    The realization that it¡¯d be like that for all the skills he¡¯d already learned over his life made him think things might not be so hopeless after all. He placed his hand back on the armor and reached for the skill.


    Examine.


    Material: Oslumnen Ore


    His smile cemented itself. Yeah, that¡¯s what I thought.


    With some strenuous effort, he tried to lift the armor set to place it in his inventory. Then he wisened up and simply vanished it piece by piece. The inventory augmentation was easily one of his favorite parts of Nightmare¡¯s sign-on bonus. He couldn¡¯t imagine how difficult it would¡¯ve been to run a mobile smithy business with any sort of weight limit on the thing.


    He¡¯d been just about to store the last piece when a thought struck him. How did a necromancer go about animating a set of armor to begin with?


    No, that wasn¡¯t his actual concern, he knew far too much about necromancer business no thanks to the last few weeks he¡¯d spent with Camilla. Things didn¡¯t have souls, you would have to stick a soul inside of it. What concerned him was that he didn¡¯t feel anything.


    Alex¡¯s trait made him especially sensitive to things that had once had a will, especially if it posed any danger to him. It was part of the reason he was more susceptible to visages like those lost souls in the mist. But even if a necromancer''s hold of a soul disappeared once it died it wasn¡¯t as if it just flew off into space. If the armor contained something so twisted and malicious that a necromancer would keep it in its back pocket he¡¯d¡¯ve thought he¡¯d be able to feel it when he was this close.


    On a snap judgment, Alex resummoned all of the armor, searching all surfaces for anything resembling a necromantic binding or even a summoning pentagon. But¡­nothing. There was nothing. Then he tried something else, something he¡¯d only ever tried with Lys before, his precious Wyvern-blade sword. He tried talking to it.


    Someone might¡¯ve thought he was crazy, the way he murmured to the dismantled armor set in the heart of the carnage. Heck, he thought he might be crazy too. He¡¯d always felt a special bond to his blade but that final attack before his death was the only time he¡¯d heard her voice so clearly. For all he knew he could¡¯ve just been talking to a regular chunk of steel for all those years after the war. The Layers were little for good company so what was a man to do, really.


    In the end, he wasn¡¯t sure if it was his words that did the trick or a few more inputs from his [Examine] skill once it had a couple more tries at the thing, but he figured it out before long. There was a slight tension to the pieces where they sat on the grassy ground and Alex had suspicions as to what was going on. Strange ones. This set of armor¡­ it hadn¡¯t just had a soul shoved into it, in fact it¡­it never really had a soul to begin with. It was not dissimilar to a Tsukumogami¡ªor a failed one at least.


    It¡¯s said that a creation forged with clear expertise and once in a lifetime passion could sometimes take life of its own, and while Alex had never witnessed it he knew it to be true. Here, it seemed to have been mid-process when the necromancer found it.


    But how does that even work? Becoming an undead without ever having lived¡­


    There was something terribly sad about the idea. Like taking candy from a baby, only you¡¯re taking its life instead. And then raising its corpse.


    He sighed. It would never be a living thing, that much was clear. Sad as it may be, this wasn¡¯t the sort of process that could be attempted a second time. But regardless of that, its material was still priceless for what it was. Together with the core he¡¯d picked up from that necromancer, it seemed Alex would be in for a field day the next time he made his way to a smithy in any case.


    Which might be soon.


    He vanished it from his inventory for good this time and turned his mind to more important things. The second scenario. Normally it took a while to get to the Level 15 threshold where you can pick your Foundation class, but it was becoming clear to Alex that he had a whole host of advantages in that regard.


    The reason it took so long had to do with resource management. Getting your first class was a whole lot longer of a process when you had to split your Essence between buying skills, leveling, and acquiring a skill path. But Alex already had most of the skills he needed right there in his Library. And when you also knew all the Class conditions for your desired class, they kind of became obsolete as well. All those things considered¡­


    That soon huh.


    If things went well he might get his class at the end of the second scenario. Once he did that, he¡¯d stop having to cower so much. He could shed this weakness once and for all.


    It wouldn¡¯t be enough of course, he couldn¡¯t stop there, not until there was nothing in the world that could threaten him. No Nightmare like Camilla who could steamroll his entire party. Or Immortals who could decimate an army in the blink of an eye.


    Even so¡­ it¡¯d taken him so much longer the first time. It¡¯d taken him weeks to get to that point. It still felt unreal, all this.


    It is unreal, he thought. Coming back in time like this, it didn¡¯t make sense how any of it could be real. But somehow it was.


    Alex closed his eyes, careful not to let them stay shut too long. He made a fist with his hand and pressed it to his chest, feeling his heartbeat. He took some deep breaths. In through the nose, out through the mouth. He let the emptiness into his mind and cleared space for it, erasing everything else. Then he asked the important question.


    Do I still want to be a Blacksmith?


    He remembered all the pain his path had caused him. His failure to integrate his Warrior skill tree into the Class, the things he¡¯d had to experience because of it. Doubt filled him. And then he remembered Lys, and that final glimpse of what lies beyond.


    He had to give it a shot.

 7 — Starter Town

    On Earth, the sun rose in the East and set in the West but in Nightmare it worked a little differently. At dawn the sun rose in the East all the same, but it was a reluctant slow crawl of a thing. Come night-time it didn¡¯t so much ¡®set¡¯ as it did fall¡ªas though it had been struck down from the sky by the gods. The next day its recovery would be a little slower and with evening its death a little sooner, and the next, and next after that was just more of the same. The cycle would repeat. Days would get cut shorter, nights would grow longer, and before long there would be no light at the end of the tunnel, only the terrors of the dark and a nightmare that would never end.


    Suffice it to say, Alex was having an awful morning.


    His auburn brown hair matted his face like a mop, his odor had grown sour, his button up shirt was dirty, chaffed with dirt and mud and blood and dust, and where last night it had stuck to his skin with sweat it had now hardened like crust. A repeat visit to Jun had seen the wound on his wrist cleaned again at the very least, but the dull pain was still noticeable. And still nothing compared to the exhaustion the rest of him felt.


    When was the last time I slept?


    The thought flitted past and it occurred to him he quite literally had no way of knowing. Fifteen years ago at least, and back then his superiors had been breathing down his neck like a pack of hyenas. He could¡¯ve been awake a day, two days, or perhaps even more. He¡¯d been well on his way to a working man¡¯s death even before Nightmare, and last night he¡¯d pushed this body harder than it could go. It¡¯d taken its toll. And it¡¯d taken his optimism and sanity with it.


    And now there was this slow, slow crawl of light climbing the horizon. The sun was taking its sweet time this morning.


    What¡¯s taking them so long? Last time they came before sunrise.


    He glanced again at the notification.


    [Please await your Guide at the designated meeting point. We will be with you shortly]


    It had come two hours ago.


    Alex was currently sitting atop the sloped hill with Jun and Gloomy. They had all mutually and wordlessly agreed that they were visible enough sitting where they were. Better to wait all bunched up here than where the designated beacon speared a woman¡¯s head in the clearing¡¯s center. And so there they all were; a studious doctor, a brash teenager, and a veteran-turned-Adventurer-turned-call center wage-slave. He was hard pressed to imagine a scenario where they¡¯d have much to talk about even on a normal day. Instead they¡¯d just passed the time in silence.


    That was fine by him.


    Gloomy sat to the left of him. She¡¯d spent most of the night in the pitch darkness of the forest and Alex noticed that a few of her fingernails had ruptured. She¡¯d hissed at the sun when it had first come up, eyes red and puffy and dilating. Now, she had her drawstring hoodie sewn tight around her like a student trying to fit a whole night¡¯s sleep into a scant few minutes.


    Jun was to his right, just staring into the distance. He¡¯d been the only one to get any sleep and even he¡¯d been up before the sun. He¡¯d refined some of his Essence as well if Alex¡¯s senses were still working straight.


    As for him, he¡¯d just sat under a tree all night, staying as still as humanly possible in order to recover some stamina. He¡¯d managed a measly 9%. And now he was waiting. Patiently, waiting.


    Suddenly, there was a distortion in space above the beacon and dark gate warbled open. It expanded and a man dressed in an inconspicuous tattered cloak stepped out. Alex was almost grateful his wait had ended.


    Almost. If not for the fact that he recognized the man. He had messy unkempt hair at odds with his prince-like jawline, and when he took his first step out his boot squelched between a woman¡¯s rib cage. He looked down distastefully and swatted at the flies and blood wasps that swarmed in a haze around him. He soon spotted them and his expression didn¡¯t change much as he sauntered over.


    ¡°Velrick,¡± he gave, ¡°I¡¯ve been assigned as your Guide. And you three are?¡±


    Jun seemed as if he were about to answer then hesitated. Gloomy simply scowled. Alex almost missed the question entirely, but he knew he could access that information if he actually wanted it.


    ¡°Lively bunch, aren¡¯t you? Not often that there¡¯s¡­ three,¡± He frowned for a second, eyes searching for something before returning to them, ¡°you could¡­ like¡­ make friends, you know?¡±


    They all shared an awkward glance, then pretended they didn¡¯t.


    ¡°Uh, excuse me¡± Jun said, ¡°What exactly does ¡®Guide¡¯ entail?¡±


    ¡°Won¡¯t mean much for a while, really. Right now it just means I¡¯m here to take you to the nearest town,¡±


    ¡°Town?¡±


    ¡°A type of urban settlement.¡±


    Jun blinked as if he weren¡¯t expecting that answer. The man sighed, ¡°Let''s go then. I¡¯m¡­ already behind schedule. If you slow me down I won¡¯t hesitate to leave you.¡±


    Velrick didn¡¯t wait for an answer as he turned and walked away. Just as he hadn¡¯t the last time. Visions of the past overlayed on the man''s back and Alex decided to heed his warning this time. Before long, they had already reached the barrier to the mists and the voices of lost souls began to whisper in their ears, visceral and emotional. Then there were the wraiths¡ªdeeper voices, filled with longing for flesh.


    Jun clutched his ears, ¡°What¡ªwhat are those?¡±


    ¡°Scared?¡± The guide asked, sardonically.


    No one answered.


    ¡°Ah, those? Don¡¯t worry¡­ they¡¯ll wait until I¡¯m gone to eat you.¡±


    There was a bored humor behind his eyes. That was the last time Jun tried asking questions.


    ***


    The sun had long settled into the morning, but it still struggled to penetrate the forest¡¯s light fog. Mist wove through the valley¡¯s trees like water around jagged river stones and the shifting currents concealed terrors that Alex had been hiding from just the night before.


    Just the night before?


    For some reason the phrase didn¡¯t register. The night before this, he¡¯d been down in the caverns, trying to get some shut eye while his dangersense raised alarm at Camilla¡¯s presence. Immortals didn¡¯t need to sleep and Alex couldn¡¯t while she was awake.


    Sleep¡­


    His eyelids were heavy with double vision and for a second he saw himself walking from an outsider''s perspective. It was a different him, but all signs lead to the path being the same. It should be a good thing. He knew what was coming. He should feel good about that. But then again, nothing good would be coming his way.


    His hand instinctively went to his eye, tracing grooves of the scar it would find there. It found nothing. He sighed.


    The guide yawned and Alex had to stifle one of his own as they all ducked under a crooked tree while something passed overhead. But for the ghoulish whisperings and the crinkle of leaves, it was dreadfully silent.


    They continued on until ahead of them the trees suddenly stopped, lined unnaturally as if there was some barrier between the forest and the plains where they didn¡¯t grow.


    ¡°Well,¡± Velrick said, ¡°looks like we¡¯ve arrived.¡±


    The guide led them out of the forest and onto a dirt road. With each step further from the unnatural line of trees the fog lessened until it was almost gone entirely.


    ¡°And my job¡¯s done¡±


    Alex looked back at the man. Truthfully, he wasn¡¯t certain whether he was actually a man or just appearing as a human for professionality¡¯s sake. You could never tell with the system¡¯s guides. In any case, he caught that glossy, distant look people had in their eyes when doing mental commands right before he vanished. He¡¯d left their lives just as unceremoniously as he¡¯d entered them.


    Jun looked bewildered when he¡¯d realized the man had suddenly disappeared on them, and Gloomy, who hadn¡¯t spoken a word the entire time, simply frowned before continuing onwards.


    Now, the three of them were left looking up at a vast array of wooden pikes. They were little more than thrice their height and there must¡¯ve been a platform on the other side, as a group of guardsmen were up there as lookouts.


    A chill went down Alex¡¯s spine as they were spotted.


    So it¡¯ll be the same this time, afterall.


    He grew stern as he looked at his two companions in deliberation. They were far from perfect company, Alex knew, but he¡¯d grown more used to them since last night. There was an odd bond to be shared between people who were perfectly content to ignore each other and pretend one another never existed.


    ¡°If I were you guys,¡± Alex said, ¡°I would not trust anyone or anything behind those gates.¡±


    ¡°No shit,¡± Gloomy spat.


    ¡°Ironic coming from you,¡± Jun added.


    Of course¡­ Why even bother.


    But then again, why not bother. It would cost him close to nothing after all. Either they would get it or they wouldn¡¯t.


    Alex had been mid-sigh when the gates shifted.


    An old man stepped out and his breath caught in his chest. Alex was stuck there for a second, reliving the past. The man simply stepped forward, a poised elegance in his gait. His hair was short and gray, his eyes were lined by creases, and he wore a smile that seemed permanently plastered, covered beneath his stash. His voice rasped kindly, serenading in the way only the wise and elderly sounded.


    ¡°Hello,¡± he said. He walked forward and took a bow at his waist, ¡°Mr. Jun, Mr. Alex, Ms¨C¡±


    Gloomy gave a deep growl and he seemed taken aback for a second. Then he gave a hearty laugh, ¡°Well, suffice to say, we have been expecting you all. My name is Samwise,¡± he bowed again, ¡°The mayor of this town. I know things must have been harsh and unforgiving thus far, but believe me, it doesn¡¯t have to be that way.¡±


    He began approaching now, subtly, until he was right next to them. He rested a hand on Alex¡¯s shoulder and it took Alex all he had to quell his raging heartbeat.


    ¡°I understand that you all must have so many questions. I was like you once, but all will be answered in time. So what do you say we get a hearty meal first?¡±


    Gloomy didn¡¯t hesitate. She had a strangely resigned expression, one that Alex hadn¡¯t seen on her before, as she took the Mayor¡¯s cue to step forward. Jun on the other hand did seem to have a moment¡¯s hesitation, but he was following shortly behind her.


    Alex stayed, his heart hammering.


    ¡°Is something wrong?¡± The Mayor asked. He was standing right next to him now. His eyes were narrowed into wrinkled slits as permanent as his smile, though as Alex met them he thought he saw them open just slightly.


    ¡°No,¡± he said. He walked past, scratching nonchalantly at his right eye. He glanced at the subtle lump of the man¡¯s hem where the tip of a knife peeked barely under.


    Just wondering how I¡¯ll kill you, that¡¯s all.


    They looked back as the gates closed behind them, the Mayor still smiling, ¡°Oh, and one more thing,¡± he said. He took lead of them and they turned, taking in the sight. Stone and wooden medieval-style houses, walkways lined by aged cobblestone, people milling about with life, a woman selling flowers by the bundle¡­ ¡°Welcome,¡± the mayor said, ¡°To the Starter Town.¡±


    ***


    The Mayor had led them as far as the tavern entrance before leaving to attend to other business.


    ¡°My humble apologies,¡± he¡¯d said, bowing. ¡°But I assure you this is the finest hospitality we have to offer. They¡¯re an unruly bunch, but they¡¯re all very gentle at heart. Just head to the front desk, the attendant will get you situated.¡±


    Their heads panned up at the signboard. It read: Adventurer¡¯s Guild Hall.


    ¡°What in the¡­¡± Jun¡¯s voice was drowned out as Alex pushed the swinging doors open.


    Let''s get this over with, he thought.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    As the doors closed behind them it felt as if they¡¯d just walked into another world.


    Celtish music blared from a stage corner. There were cheers and woots, deep chuckles and high-pitched howls. Shouts of all kinds sounded from a vast array of wooden tables and they were accented only by the clinking of coins, the wooden clatter of spilled pints, and calls to the barmaid for more asides. He was bombarded with the smell of hops and a strong musk of armored men and women as they wandered to and fro. It was like so many places he¡¯d frequented over the years; a pleasure seeking splurge-pit for those who knew they wouldn¡¯t live long.


    Or in this case¡­


    A bare chested man with a mohawk swung the door open behind them, bumping into Jun.


    ¡°Oh, excuse me lads,¡± he said as he pushed through. A burlap sack draped heavily over his shoulder guards, soaking at the bottom where a purple-ish liquid dripped steadily onto the floor. Alex followed close behind him to the far wall with the reception counter where he dropped the sack down onto an information desk with steady thud.


    Music and laughter stopped for a second as a ghoulish head lolled partly out of the sack. Jun and Gloomy, who seemed to have stuck to Alex like ducklings, went pale. Then a few of the tables cheered with laughter and the music continued again like nothing had happened.


    ¡°Oh my,¡± the attendant said, ¡°Back early today, aren¡¯t you? That¡¯s quite a haul.¡±


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you come back to my place, I¡¯ll show how much I¡¯m truly packing.¡±


    The man¡¯s smile didn¡¯t fade but Alex picked up just a hint of animosity in his voice. The woman just laughed past it and they exchanged a few more pleasantries before the man pointed to a poster on the billboard behind her and she tore it down, handing him a sack of coins.


    Alex paid special attention to the posters on that billboard, making sure to memorize each and every one.


    ¡°Um, Alex,¡± Jun wore a concerned look on his face as he leaned in, ¡°Just what the hell am I witnessing¨C¡±


    The man turned around, ¡°Oh! The three from the entrance, isn¡¯t it? Fresh blood?¡± He wore an intense look on his face as he leaned in closer.


    ¡°Yeah, something like that,¡± Alex responded.


    The man¡¯s grin widened to something almost friendly as he turned to leave, ¡°Welcome to the gates of hell!¡±


    ¡°Uh, Alex¨C¡±


    ¡°Oh! You three must be new initiates! Just one second!¡± The freckled woman was wiping purple blood off the counter surface with her cloth when she suddenly scrambled off, returning with a strange steampunk-esque mechanism with a floating orb projected in the center.


    ¡°This here,¡± she explained, ¡°Will test your magical output and tell you what your starting adventurer rank will be. Naturally, the guild won¡¯t be privy to any sensitive information, and this won¡¯t count towards your actual registration¨C¡±


    ¡°Uh wait, hold on¨Chold on,¡± Jun hurried, ¡°Adventurer? as in¨C¡±


    It was Gloomy this time who interrupted him this time, stepping forward to put her hand on the orb. The contraption whirred and the orb shone as it pulsed with mana. Then she took her hand off it and it settled down. She still wore that permanent scowl but Alex had noticed the night before, when she returned from the forest how much dirt was buried under her fingernails.


    ¡°Now what?¡± she said.


    The woman smiled, ¡°Now, we¡¯ll have you all meet our Guild Master. Though¡­ we¡¯re still waiting for other initiates to show up, so how about we have you¡­ oh, that table has space. Hey Storth!¡± the attendant hollered across the room, ¡°Got another!¡±


    An old man with a cheeky grin beckoned Gloomy over.


    ¡°Psst Alex!¡±


    He looked over. He could tell Jun was really starting to panic now but Alex shot him a harsh look and the man shut his mouth as understanding came. Thankfully, he resisted the urge to look around in paranoia as he followed Gloomy¡¯s example wordlessly.


    Facts were, at no point, from when they entered those gates to if they exited, would they be left unattended. Even now he could feel the gazes resting on his back.


    Still, it needled at him so much, playing along with all this¡­ convoluted nonsense. He knew what would happen when he touched that orb, he¡¯d got some random letter that was supposed to be his rank and a random name tag that told him he was one of them. And maybe the dejavu was getting to him, or maybe he was just too tired, but he didn¡¯t want to play along this time.


    He¡¯d followed that same path as old for far too long, this was where those paths had to split.


    ¡°Uh¡­ sir?¡± The woman looked at him expectantly.


    ¡°Sorry, I¡¯m not feeling well. Do I need to?¡±


    ¡°I¡­ I do apologize, but we need everyone to be registered¨C¡±


    ¡°Then, how about I do it later?¡±


    She looked as if she might refuse, then something intangible flickered through her expression for a second, and she harrumphed. ¡°Fine, but you better do it when Guild Master arrives, okay? Please, take a seat. We¡¯ll have some food out for you in a second.¡±


    ***


    ¡°Eric¡­. Agh, I¡­¡± The slightly chubby woman slammed her pint down, red in the face as she forked another bite of steak, ¡°I just don¡¯t know what to do on my own¡­¡± She sobbed as she grabbed another pint from a passing barmaid.


    From the context provided, Alex gathered that this ¡®Eric¡¯ had sacrificed himself to save her in the last scenario. And that he was apparently very suave.


    ¡°Ohh Jolyn,¡± An older man drawled in deep southern, ¡°Just forget about that man! Look around, there¡¯s plenty¡¯ a well built men around ¡®ere. If I learned anything the past day it¡¯s that stickin¡¯ to the past won¡¯t do ya any good here!¡±


    He had his arm draped around another woman. One of the guild¡¯s mages, it appeared. She had a large bust with open cleavage and was leaning in close to him while he showed her his gun. Alex almost wanted to roll his eyes. The man was falling for the oldest trick in the book and he didn¡¯t even know it.


    He looked around the wooden circle table they¡¯d been seated at. The southern man and the woman named Jolyn were the only other¡­ ¡®initiates¡¯ as they¡¯d been called, but there were three other adventurers filling in seats between them all.


    Storth, the man who¡¯d called from across the room, was currently engaged in a one sided conversation with Gloomy, who was¡­ well, not so gloomy anymore as she was wolfing down the dish in front of her like a speed eater. And the third adventurer currently had an arm hooked around Jun, her other hand running up and down his chest in flirtation. And strangely enough¡­ he was reciprocating. Either he¡¯d wisened up since their last talk or he¡¯d suddenly turned very dumb. Frankly, Alex was too tired to care which.


    He¡¯d done some calculations on their walk there, as slowly as his addled brain could handle them, and Jun¡¯s skill could be invaluable to help him defeat this scenario, if he could actually count on him. He was beginning to think it was a big if.


    There are other options, he reminded himself. None so talented perhaps, but he was certain some of these other people could prove useful. Possibly. And if not he would just handle it on his own. He had his methods even if it wouldn¡¯t be ideal.


    After a nap maybe.


    Alex¡¯s vision started failing as looked down at his plate in disgust. The rations in his inventory weren¡¯t so plentiful that he could waste them before a free meal. It wasn¡¯t the first time he¡¯d had to eat something he didn¡¯t want to, and it would likely not be the last.


    He tried to recall when he had last had a full meal as well, but that was also a hard one. His memories were still confused by the time jump and Alex was mostly just acting on autopilot. Years upon years of honed instincts kept him sane, but that¡¯s all they kept him. Sane. Not quick, nor sharp. And if he truly wanted to beat Nightmare, then he needed to be both.


    The adventurer man seemed to have given up on Gloomy and started talking to him. Alex didn¡¯t care to figure out what he was saying, he was too preoccupied.


    What had done it?


    In his past life, everyone had been knocked cold. But how exactly? He¡¯d already run an identify on both the food and the mead and¡ªthough he was the only one there who knew the flaws with that method¡ªhe doubted this backend place would be using anything too high level. Moreso, he¡¯d had plenty of both in his past life and he¡¯d been just fine. So what¨C


    The music stopped playing. Alex was snapped from his reverie and he felt like he¡¯d been drawn out of a haze.


    The old man, Storth, started slamming his pint up and down on the table, drink spilling out of it, messily over the table. The two adventurer women joined him, then the southern man as well, clearly having no idea what he was doing. All around them, at all the tables in the hall pints were thudding on tables, creating a cacophony of noise as an inhumanely tall and broad man stepped onto the info-desk counter.


    The first thing Alex noticed about him was his equipment. Where every other adventurer¡¯s weapons were rusted and poorly made, his sword had that shine of quality steel. Alex felt like an idiot, all these details coming to him now that he¡¯d never noticed way back then.


    ¡°Alright you rascals, quiet it down! You don¡¯t wanna scare our new initiates do ya?!¡± The man shouted. If anything, it just made the room cheer louder, but the man had a booming voice and presence that cut through the crowd with ease.


    ¡°Now, for all my fresh-faced Initiates here,¡± every face turned to their sector of the tavern, ¡°My name¡¯s Lionheart, your Guild Master. I¡¯m gonna keep my speech here short and peachy so yall can get back to drinkin¡¯, but listen up! I want you to do one simple thing for me. Look to your left, look to your right, look at all these beautiful men and women¡ªyes Lugrin, I¡¯m talkin¡¯ about you¨C¡±


    From the direction of laughter and look on his face, ¡®Lugrin¡¯ appeared to have been the large mohawked man from earlier.


    ¡°¡ªPoint is! I want you to look at the person next to ya, and just know, they¡¯ve got your back! You¡¯re one of us now! You all¨C¡± he paused for dramatic effect ¡°¡ªare ADVENTURERS!¡±


    At once the room went absolutely ballistic, with the man receiving the rough hewn adventurers version of a standing ovation. It involved a lot more sloshing mead and a handful more concussions. Alex knew first hand how infectious that energy could be. He saw Jun let loose an uncharacteristic cheer, and he really couldn¡¯t tell if he was playing it up or not.


    But either way, Alex wouldn¡¯t be sticking around to be sure. He¡¯d decided he hated this place. Hated how it seemed so familiar, yet not. It wasn¡¯t the tavern¡¯s comfort he¡¯d grown nostalgic for on backwater worlds, it was a fabrication. A distorted tapestry woven within the fever-dream that was this tutorial. A false sense of comfort to lull you into the trap.


    Or I suppose, the Nightmare.


    The thought made him grim.


    And as each and every one of his fellow ¡®initiates¡¯¡ª24 of them, cause of course he¡¯d fucking counted¡ªsat back down with a pint in their hand and a flirt by their side, they would open up their stat sheet and have the same exact thought: Wow, this is just like a game.


    The system being designed to mimic a game wasn¡¯t at all unintentional, and it only went further for the tutorial. It was the reason he couldn¡¯t bring himself to register as an ¡®adventurer¡¯. Not in a place where that title held so little real meaning.


    But¡­ there was something else to it, wasn¡¯t there?


    Alex quickly eyed one of the so-called adventurers and he saw it now, in the way their essence moved, sloppily¡ªyet strangely captivating. Since the essence used to affix skills was bound to your very soul, they left a sort of imprint on it after a while¡ªa sort of signifier of the System. It was a subtle difference, something he never would¡¯ve caught had he not seen the wider solar system. But having spent fifteen years with the System, he knew it like his own hand. And that man, there, did not have one.


    But¡­ why? Why create a tutorial on a systemless world? And why Nightmare?


    The observation snapped him out of his tiredness. Momentarily. The thought was still there, but hard to focus on. He took a sip, grimacing as he felt a mild numbing sensation go through him.


    He hated this place. Hated the manipulation, hated the false-comfort, and above all hated the fact that it worked. A crude facsimile though it may be, that was all anybody needed after surviving the hell of the first night. In his first life he¡¯d let his fatigue win and simply gave in to the convenience of it all, he¡¯d never thought to question any of this. It made his blood boil over just thinking of it, to the point that when everyone settled down he hardly even noticed the glass of water the barmaid had brought him.


    He identified it. ¡®Poisoned water¡¯ it said.


    Examine.


    Status effects - Sedation


    Of course. Get a few drinks in their system and their blood pumping and they¡¯ll hardly even question the glass of water.


    How many of them even know that they can use Identify on objects? Not many, he figured. And if anyone did notice, they¡¯d be wise not to make it obvious.


    Alex on the other hand had no reason to be inconspicuous. Any attention he wrought from these goons was something he could deal with himself, and he¡¯d already been marked for watch by refusing registration. So as he went to stand up he found himself clumsily tripping over himself, his glass sloshing in his right hand.


    Truthfully, he only had to act out the first second. After that the clumsiness was real. He stumbled a few steps and then tripped, spilling his water all over the open-necked outfit of the mage who had been clinging to Jun. She gasped, stepping back from the table.


    Whoops¡­ really, he could be so clumsy sometimes. He restrained a crazed laugh as he straightened.


    ¡°Shoot! I¡¯m¨C I¡¯m so so sorry, let me clean that up.¡±


    The woman scooted aside as he bent over the table, using his sleeve to mob up the water. And while he was doing it, something slipped out of his sleeve and onto Jun¡¯s lap. A note, hastily and stealthily scribbled with some paper and pen from his apartment. With his trait, he been able to write it hidden from view during the few moments he could be certain nobody was looking at him. He¡¯d had to move it in and out of his inventory 12 times just to scribble one word. Water.


    Alex quickly used his flustered act as an excuse for some fresh air, not waiting to see if anyone else had noticed¡ªor if even Jun himself had. If it¡¯d all worked then the man might be a useful asset, if not a trusted one. And if it didn¡¯t, well, talent was not so often an indicator of survival as much as simple luck, and when it came down to it...


    I¡¯ll just play the hand I¡¯m dealt.


    He gave the others all one last look. He didn¡¯t owe them anything. Gloomy, Jun, all of them, he knew that with time they would quickly become nameless faces. There¡¯d been thousands of them, over the years. Children, elderly, men, women, all sorts of people he¡¯d abandoned for the sake of survival. This was no different.


    But maybe that was just the thing. No matter what he sold himself he was still just surviving.


    He forced the thought down, pushing his way out of the Guild Hall. And sure enough, two more presences trailed behind at a distance, watching.


    He took a corner, walking past some shops the¡­ mayor had taken them by earlier. The townsfolk had all been very friendly when they¡¯d first come through. They were noticeably more wary of him now. The woman who¡¯d been selling flowers by the bundle earlier now glared daggers at him. There were no smiles or forced greetings, he wasn¡¯t where he was supposed to be, but he knew nothing would come of it. Not yet.


    Subtly, he chanced a glance and found that very same mayor and a couple Adventurers slinking into the alleys behind him. He let them follow, knowing nothing would come of that either. Nothing he wasn¡¯t looking forward to at least.


    He pulled up a bucket of water from the well and cut the rope with his dagger. The one he¡¯d gotten from his bonus set, not the one he¡¯d looted. The weapon was already collapsing, cracking in places. Then he walked up to one of the houses and stole a large basin from their front porch. People watched as he went by, blank stares on their faces. But while Awakened were at a disadvantage in Nightmare, the Tutorial had some limitations of its own and Alex fully intended to make use of that.


    Soon, he found the place he was looking for. A beat up shed he¡¯d spotted on the outskirts of the town. It was nondescript to the untrained eye, but he could tell immediately from the type of chimney what was inside.


    Just like he could tell from the cloud of dust that barraged him as he entered that this smithy hadn¡¯t been used in a long, long time.


    Alright, enough mulling. Time to get to work.

 8 — Forged In Fire

    In 1024 AD, Wayland Smith had been chosen to forge a sword for the King of England. And since that age, his son, his son¡¯s son, and all generations that followed had produced blacksmiths capable of miracles. A blacksmith¡ªonly one, as if it were some hereditary lottery-drawn obsession.


    Of which Alex had been the next afflicted.


    He¡¯d used to watch the sparks as a child. They¡¯d fly off molten metal as a hammer struck it. And the hammer would be back with a vengeance, a muscled arm behind it as if trying to turn swords to dollars the way Jesus had turned water to wine.


    His father had rarely acknowledged him, for the few years that he¡¯d been around, but Alex would still watch for hours, his eyes never leaving the backyard forge as it bellowed with fire. And as he stepped into a forge for the first time since he was a small child, it was that fire that he remembered.


    Suppressed for far too long, it rose up to consume him.


    You¡¯ve awakened a dormant Bloodline!


    [Forged in Fire]


    Countless sparks fly from molten metal, but only one catches flame. You are the sole inheritor of 1000 year¡¯s lineage of blacksmiths.


    Effects: ???


    An indescribable emotion hit Alex, a mix of intense elation as well as a sense of loss that was too strong to process in his exhausted state. He shoved it all down, refusing to look inward.


    He knew what the surface level effects of his bloodline were. Enhanced learning, a concentrated state, a few abilities, the feeling of rightness when he tasted metal in the air. It was that sense of rightness he tried to focus on now, as he dusted off an old, slightly chipped hammer. His clawed arm still throbbed, but it at least felt a little better with a hammer in hand. His heart, which had begun to overclock, started to slow as he took stock of his surroundings.


    The smithy was barebones: the anvil was missing its horn, the grind wheel had a pedal ripped off, a lone bellow sat where there was supposed to be a pair to fan the fires, and rusted tools lay about that didn¡¯t look up to the task. The place was run down, and had been for a while too, at that.


    He cleared dust from the workstation, compiling all his tools. A dull chisel, a bent fire poker, tongs but no gloves to grip them¡­ he shoved a bag of old charcoal into the clay furnace and an unexpected plume of soot rose up to swallow him, sending him into a coughing fit.


    It got in his lungs, tasting tangy sweet to his already tar-scorched breath and by the time he recovered, yet another inconvenience had grabbed his attention. He picked a decaying pouch containing a bright icy-blue colored powder and held it far from his face, inspecting it dubiously.


    [Black-Scale Powder]


    A powdered mixture ground from a Black-frost Salamander¡¯s scales. Appearing dark black when at its freshest, it will evaporate into flammable vapor upon contact with fire, increasing its potency and duration.


    Considered safe for use up to 3 years after death.


    ¡­Examine.


    Expiration Date: 111 years ago.


    Perhaps ¡®run down¡¯ was an understatement, he brooded. They really don¡¯t want to make this easy for me, do they?


    He grimaced as he thought further on it. No, they really didn¡¯t.


    The first time Alex had forged had also been in Nightmare. He¡¯d had a party with him back then and had unlocked his bloodline much further down the line but even then, getting to his class unlock had been a miracle. What he¡¯d perceived as a ¡®difficult path¡¯ was reading more clearly to him now as intentional sabotage, on behalf of Nightmare¡¯s designers. He wondered, not for the first time, how he¡¯d ever made it as far as he did.


    Stubbornness, he shrugged. Luck.


    But even with that on his side, there¡¯d been just too much against him. He''d stumbled around blindly, making mistake after mistake, and eventually, he¡¯d broken his foundation to the point that he could never truly utilize the gift he¡¯d been born with. Foul play or not, he had lost.


    In recent years it¡¯d been harder to remember what things could¡¯ve driven him to become a blacksmith in Nightmare of all places. What it had been that could¡¯ve steered him onto this path of hardship and sorrow.


    But that had a simple answer, didn¡¯t it? He just hadn¡¯t wanted to fight anymore.


    He sat with the thought for a second. His shoulders fell and he took a lethargic breath before setting them into place. All paths led to conflict in the apocalypse. It was unavoidable. And it was something he had long since stopped mourning.


    It had been at least.


    Now, he had a different view on the matter.


    He felt his grimy nails dig into flesh as he hardened his resolve. Unavoidable or not, this time he would wage his battles armed to the fucking teeth.


    Was there risk to the idea? Yes, but there was nothing they could do to him that hadn¡¯t already been done. They¡¯d shown him hell and he¡¯d lived through it. They¡¯d given him scars but all he saw there was a decade and a half of experience burned into his soul. Knowledge they didn¡¯t want him to have¡ªweapons they didn¡¯t want him to carry¡ªtime had provided him with far more than any man should have. And while the culmination of all that he¡¯d gone through may no longer show on his body, it still stoked a cold certainty in his gut.


    He would play their game, but not by their rules.


    And none of it will go to waste.


    Alex sprinkled some Black-Scale Powder onto the coals then, stepping a far distance back, chucked a lighter into the furnace.


    There was a loud thwoom and an explosion of fire grasped for his face. He closed his eyes just in time and while its flame¡¯s reach fell just short of him, the echo of soot from the charcoal sent him into another coughing fit. He desperately fanned in front of him, waiting a minute before he dared open his eyes¡ªonly to find that his clay furnace slightly cracked now.


    But his fury subsided when he saw what was left behind; a beautiful fire that hardly even needed fanning. It lashed in the belly of the furnace with fervor and he read the color of its licks like a surfer read the waves.


    His soul stirred as his system popped.


    You have gained a new bloodline ability!


    [Thermostat]


    A smile turned his lips as he suddenly knew that the fire was 834¡ã.


    It seemed the System was treating his Bloodline abilities the same way it treated his skills. As long as he had the base stat requirements for them and the know-how, he would receive them freely.


    He pumped the bellow to get it a little hotter. He prepared the room with everything he would need for the forging, pouring the Canola oil he¡¯d bought from 7/11 into the large, elongated clothes basin for later. Then, Alex opened his inventory again and both the core and the animated knight from earlier collapsed in a pile at his feet.


    [Abandoned Armor]


    Trait: Malleability


    With the heightened senses provided by his bloodline, he felt a tinge of regret as he saw them through new eyes.


    Before him he had both a creation forged with enough love to almost develop its own soul, and the core belonging to the very same necromancer who¡¯d chained it in never-ending death. The study of Essence and Aura was a behavioral science more than anything and ideally Alex should be able to use the powerful synergy between the two materials to create something amazing.


    In¡­ theory at least.


    He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, a slight anger boiling up. Then he knelt by the armor¡¯s side.


    When he had found it in the heart of all that bloodshed, it¡¯d felt like he had found himself for a moment¡ªa damaged thing that had potential because of all it had experienced.


    But even for Alex, someone with the right skillset, he just didn¡¯t have enough to do the material justice. He didn¡¯t have the stats he needed, he didn¡¯t have the time, and he didn''t have enough skill slots either. He only had two free skill slots remaining, and even with all the Essence Crystals he had in store, he wouldn¡¯t have his full arsenal of skills at hand.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± he whispered sweetly.


    He brushed the armor''s curves with sorrow, trailing the blunted wedges gently with his fingertips.


    Then he tossed pieces of the armor into the fire. He captured the very moment the piece¡¯s trait glitched and fizzled out, burning the memory into his eyes.


    I¡¯m sorry, I can¡¯t give you the love you deserve.


    ***


    Necessity is the mother of invention, or so the saying goes, but what¡¯s left unsaid is that not all inventions are born pretty.


    Some years into the apocalypse, Alex had once been forcefully ¡®apprenticed¡¯ to a Master Blacksmith, a crotchety old man who¡¯d achieved Immortality too late to retain his youth, and who¡¯d hated his style of blacksmithing so much that he refused to teach him anything.


    Well, not anything. There¡¯d been one lesson he¡¯d parted¡ªperhaps the most important in Alex¡¯s life¡ªand it¡¯d been recited less than a minute after he¡¯d started when the man had ripped his hammer away and thrown it across the room.


    Alex only remembered his words out of spite.


    ¡°Here¡¯s what you don¡¯t understand, shithead. When you create something¡ªanything; A sword, a horseshoe, an iron rod to shove up your ass for all I care¡ªyou¡¯re not creating a thing, you¡¯re birthing a soul. Any Smith who refuses to invest their own soul into the process hasn¡¯t earned a place in my forge.¡±


    At the time Alex had been so pissed off he¡¯d annoyed the man for another three months before his leave, and his ¡®Master¡¯ seemed to have kept him around just to have someone to hate. But despite all that wasted time, Alex had only just now started to realize what he¡¯d meant. Only now, after regaining all that he had lost.


    The fire manifest in his soul flared up, flickering to a beat so familiar and yet so hazy in his recollection. For such a long time, he¡¯d felt there was something missing in him that he couldn¡¯t put a finger on, but he understood now what those words had meant. He watched the armor soften and subtly lose shape. The system only said ¡®Oslumnen Metal¡¯ now.


    No.


    Something primal objected from deep within. He picked up his hammer and his bloodline stirred.


    No.


    The fires could have the armor¡¯s trait, but that wasn¡¯t all it was. He had felt it there, when he¡¯d been crouched in that field. Its soul was mutilated and shattered, its potential twisted out of shape. But the remembrance was still there¡ªclinging helplessly to its lattice¡ªthe dying embers of a purple flame.


    It¡¯s Aura.


    Alex could imagine every ancestor he¡¯d ever had looking upon him at that moment and his shoulders dipped from the hammer¡¯s weight before settling in a relaxed position. Once, blacksmithing had been an escape for him. After crafting Lys it had only been a prison. The style of blacksmithing he¡¯d developed wasn¡¯t one he could easily break free from.


    But right now, he could do anything.


    Worries of survival, of his sister, of Jun and Gloomy, of all else, he purged them from his mind. He forgot his senses, his survival instincts even, and his fatigue melted away until it was just him and flames. There could be no room for contamination in this forging.


    Afterall, Alex was going to birth a soul.


    He began immediately, heat licking his face as he leaned in to poke the fire. His eyes watered as he judged the glowing armor by its color.


    Thankfully, all signs pointed to the armor being a decorative piece, which was good since it wouldn''t previously have been heat-treated. That meant that heating it out of shape wouldn¡¯t ruin its molecular lattice.


    That said, Oslumnen wasn¡¯t used in combat for a reason. It was more brittle when hardened, and would break sooner against well-made weapons than other materials since it was a soft metal. Traditionally, it was alloyed with iron and a few other compatible ores for this exact reason. But unfortunately, he didn¡¯t have any on hand. The iron supplied to most of the low level mobs was worse than rusted wrought for his purposes and the dagger he carried didn¡¯t carry enough steel for a full sword.


    But that also meant it melted at a much lower temperature than iron. And as it was naturally black by color, he would know it was ready when it reached a deeper molten yellow.


    He looked into those fires. He still felt a tinge of sadness at the trait¡¯s loss, but he shoved it down. It wasn¡¯t the important part, he knew that now. Besides, the ore alone was still better than anything else he could get his hands on at the moment and that was for one simple reason.


    Despite all its flaws, Oslumnen held one vital strength that most earthen metals didn¡¯t; it could conduct mana. Without running mana through a weapon, there could be no traits, perks, or enchantments, and many skills were entirely unusable.


    And without mana, you can¡¯t do this.


    Alex reached for his bound Essence and twisted it, forming a pattern he knew better than any other¡ªone he¡¯d used more than any in his life¡ªand connected it to his soul.


    Skill [Metalwork] has been affixed!


    Cost: 2 Slots. Remaining skill slots: 0


    [Metalwork]


    Allows one to embed mana into metals and manipulate it through the act of hammering.


    He grabbed the metal from the fire with his tongs, torn cloth insulating his grip, and held it over the anvil. He extended his senses, feeding mana into the molten metal, embedding it into its very grain. Then he centered even more mana on his hammer¡¯s blunt edge as he swung it.


    As the hammer met metal, he manipulated the mana¡¯s molten shape ever so slightly with his blows, both from inside and out.


    And subtly, the impact began to make a difference.


    Sparks flew from the anvil and he soon fell into a familiar rhythm, clanging sounds serenading his ears like a melodic metronome. Two high pitched clangs then a lower one as he bounced the hammer off the anvil. A shrill sizzle as he quenched it in water and a deep crackle as fire claimed it once more. It both lulled him to sleep and kept him wide awake at the same time.


    Forge Welding was one of the fundamentals of blacksmithing, and it required a precise monitoring of temperature. The heat from the forge served to soften the metal so its shape could be changed, and quenching it in water cooled it and kept it solidified. He was doing a lot more of the former than the latter since he just wanted to control its temperature rather than harden it into form right now.


    Since he was repurposing armor scraps into a new ingot rather than starting fresh with one, his strikes had to be more gentle because the metal was thinner and more brittle. He could easily break it apart by going too fast or hard.


    And so he kept his rhythm.


    He swung his hammer with the cadence of a man ringing a gong. He drew the metal out, then folded it in over itself, sprinkling borax from his inventory to keep it from oxidizing. He reached into the bag that had held the charcoal until he found the bottom where there was a crushed powder of the stuff. Then he coated his anvil with it in deliberate, precise amounts to integrate Carbon into the compound.


    Thankfully, Oslumnen was anti-corrosive and thus had little slag or rust to beat out, but mana manipulation made all the difference timewise. Even still, it was a long process that required constant concentration and effort. And by the time he had formed his Oslumnen billet, Alex had reached far past his limits.


    His control over his mana had lost grip. His reserves had been run ragged from so much [Metalwork]. His muscles tinged and twitched in odd ways, his legs wouldn¡¯t move. He dipped forward, seeing dark. And as his body was about to fall apart for good, a crazed smile drifted across his face.


    He reached for that power, tingling within him¡­


    ¡­and dragged all of it into the depths of his soul¡ªrefining it.


    4,340 Essence Crystals have been consumed!


    [You have leveled up!]


    [You have leveled up!]


    [You have leveled up!]


    [You have leveled up!]


    [You have leveled up!]


    +10 skill slots


    Progress towards Level 11: [40/1,500]


    ALERT: You have entered a Supercharged State. If Essence is not bound to stats within a limited time frame you risk imminite¨C


    Alex didn¡¯t need to hear the rest of the warning, he could already feel it on all planes of reality; his mind, his body, his spirit, his soul.


    A rush of power flooded him, greater than the sum of his current existence and it threatened to tear him apart on all levels. His skin fissured with luminescence, his astral body burst at its seams. There were reasons you didn¡¯t mess with the System¡¯s safety guards¡ªan Awakened at the fifth level had no hope of integrating this influx of Essence all at once. Not at this magnitude.


    At least, not unless their Essense reserves had been wholly and utterly exhausted that is.


    A smile cracked Alex¡¯s lips.


    Essence has integrated with the Fortitude stat!


    Fortitude +2


    Essence has integrated with the Arcane stat!


    Arcane +3


    Essence has integrated with the Perception stat!


    Perception +1


    Essence has integrated with the Dexterity stat!


    Dexterity +1


    Essence has integrated with the Strength stat!


    Strength +7


    The power-high was intense and immediate: Like the feeling of new muscle you felt after a day of bench pressing. Except the three days of rest between soreness and gains were removed and the feeling was instant.


    At first it was a struggle to lift his arm. Then the struggle was with swinging it hard enough to shape an ingot. Finally, as the power flowed like thick lava through his veins, the struggle was to restrain himself.


    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    He¡¯d been waiting for this moment, withheld the use of his Essence specifically for this. When that unbound power was fed into your stats, you had to train them immediately for the greatest benefit.


    But what if the facets of that stat were already pushed to their brink? What then?!


    Alex began to cackle maniacally as sparks spit at his face. He lost sense of rhythm on his strikes, hitting as hard as he could while still maintaining technique. Strength coursed through his body and he felt the investment of two years of sleepless, corporate pain pay itself off.


    Nearly 3,500 Essence!


    All that power now graced the body of an overworked man pushing past his limits. He was unstoppable! His entire body was slick with sweat now¡ªhe hardly noticed as the wound on his arm started to bleed.


    He fed the fire hotter and stuck the ingot in again, a bar welded to one end for grip. He struck it some more. Harder and harder. His mind thought clearly for the first time in ages, his manipulation of the mana was regaining its hold. The black bar turned a deeper orange-ish red and its shape grew bolder. A drop of crimson finally dripped from his arm and sizzled against its metal.


    It was time.


    He summoned the core from his inventory.


    [Chimik Core - (Unranked, Common)]


    The core of a Chimik with Death Aura. Can be used as crafting material.


    If Essence was the intersection where life met power, then Aura was pretty much the lingering impact that that power had on reality. When you ran your mana through distinct essence-patterns like the ones skills had¡ªor better yet, the Essence Signature of your very soul¡ªit eventually began to emulate those patterns on its own, becoming Aura. And even upon death, when the system reaped that essence from the soul, if the pattern was deeply ingrained enough, that Aura remained.


    The kicker was that you needed a Core to cultivate Aura. It was the only place where you could refilter your mana pool instead of replenishing it from the outer world. And if that Core suddenly disappeared¡­


    Alex looked down to the core in his hand, a brief moment¡¯s hesitation washing over him. It was a murky black, darker even than the ore, yet had a shaded sort of luminescence to it.


    If the Core disappears then that Aura disperses.


    And Alex knew first hand that some aspects of aura¡ªwhen loosed from its cage¡ªcould cause deadlier effects than others.


    A small inkling of his Danger-sense stirred languidly from its slumber at the thought.


    There was nothing living about this core¡ªeven with the trace remaining Essence it still had¡ªbut Aura emulated that which it powered in life. And sometimes that meant it could hold a sort of ¡®lingering will¡¯. If this Aura somehow remembered what had killed it¡­


    No. Statistically unlikely.


    But if it did happen, Alex had no Aura of his own to defend himself with.


    For the moment, he put that out of mind. He wasn¡¯t the puny existence he had been a few hours ago. He was something different now, more whole. And as he held his hammer over the molten ingot, newfound strength tingling along his arm, he reached for a familiar skill.


    [Meld]


    Instantly, the orb melded into the ingot like molten glass with his impact. It darkened the black ore like a shadow in the night. Its intense hot red became a molten purple-black as he stuck it back in the flames.


    The Core still held distinct form for the meantime, its compounds not fully ruptured.


    He pumped the bellow with his foot to make the heat more intense, and once it was purple as the cosmic sky, his hammer rose once more.


    [Metalwork]


    The Core exploded.


    Death Aura flared.


    For the first time this forging, Alex thought that he might¡¯ve made a mistake. That in his overconfidence, he¡¯d reached too far beyond his bounds. He could feel the slow crawl of death all across his body. It raised the hairs along his skin, singing the ends a charred black. His instincts screamed as it went searching for his soul.


    It found it.


    And then it just moved past him. Rampant still¡ªbut now aimless in its rage.


    He had no breath for relief. He just brought his hammer down again, not letting the aura escape.


    [Metalwork] has Leveled up!


    His hammering became unceasing as it bounced off the anvil, recapturing its rhythm. Two high pitched clangs. A lower one.


    Mana: [21%]


    Metalwork was a skill with such a low mana-cost that the drain was almost unnoticeable at first use. But after hours and hours of repetition it added up quickly. And now, with so much more mana and aura to work with, that drain was only increasing.


    Aptitude with [Metalwork] has been recognized. Proficiency gains have been accelerated.


    Authority of Bloodline has been recognized. Proficiency gains have been accelerated.


    And yet, even with the skill leveling up before his eyes, it was still over-reaching.


    His astral senses worked overtime to grasp that aura and hammer it into the metal¡¯s lattice, but his Perception and Arcane stats were just too low. He reckoned it was only thanks to the mana-conductivity of the pure Oslumnen compound that he was managing at all.


    Mana: [20%]


    Mana: [19%]


    As Alex worked furiously to integrate the Core¡¯s aura, he began to notice a new problem. That purple flame¡ªthe spark he¡¯d been trying to preserve¡ªit began to flicker out and die. The cold aura of death smothered it, snuffing it out at its embers.


    It was far weaker than Alex had thought. And yet, he could hear pleas in its voice¡ªthe desperation in its withering heat.


    He knew what he had to do.


    Refine. Bind. Affix.


    The process used for Leveling and learning skills was universal for all formations of power. And right now he was in the binding phase, attempting to tether the aura to the ore.


    But the aura was only an echo of power. It retained form only due to the memory of Essence, due to the confines of the core where it had formed, its habitat. To bind it to a new host it needed new stimulation, and that required more Essence.


    Alex frowned. Hesitation seeped its way into his hammer¡¯s rhythm. His grip tightened to combat the slick of sweat.


    He¡¯d planned to repurpose a few of his skill slots to the cause, but he could already tell. It wouldn¡¯t be enough.


    Sure, he could still bind the core¡¯s aura, affix it with an Essence pattern similar to the one it remembered¡ªbut if he did, that purple flame would die. The two auras'' strengths and natures contrasted too greatly to meld cohesively.


    Still, It was the logical decision, and he was sure he could get a useful trait.


    But there was a different course he could take, wasn¡¯t there? Didn¡¯t he have one more source of Essence that had gone untapped? He could feel it there¡ªnot nestled in his¡ªbut blazing like a sun, large as the whole damn thing¡­ it was his Vital Essence.


    He remembered his Master¡¯s words.


    ¡°Any Smith who refuses to invest their own soul into the process hasn¡¯t earned a place in my forge.¡±


    Alex chuckled¡ªa deranged thing. He knew his Master hadn¡¯t meant it literally. If the man had thrown his hammer for not forging with passion, he damn well would¡¯ve bludgeoned him with the thing for even thinking of this.


    Christ, he¡¯d never even heard of someone attempting something like what he was thinking of. And gods only knew why. It was a stupid idea. It would require convoluted execution and only had downsides.


    Hells, there wasn¡¯t even a reason to if you had formed your core. And what experienced Blacksmith didn¡¯t have their god-damned core?!


    Alex laughed.


    The circumstances that had brought him before this decision were extraneously stupid. But that didn¡¯t matter. He was here, and this was real. And when the purple flame gave its last flare, he knew something else with certainty. It would fucking work.


    And that was what led him to feed the flame his soul.


    [Soul Bond Established]


    ERROR: only one Soul has been detected.


    Soul Bond has been limited to only partial integration for your safety.


    WARNING: Soul Bond is unstable. The Binding is currently open-ended. Please close the Binding before Vital Essence leakage occurs.


    Alex doubled over, seeing triple in his vision.


    He was experiencing himself from outside his body. It took effort¡ªeffort and pain¡ªto plant his feet in the ground. To stop himself from keeling into the fire.


    It took all the more to swing his hammer, much less with any discernible technique.


    His soul had already started leaking and if the Death Aura hadn¡¯t noticed it earlier, it sure did now. The aura bristled, practically salivating, like a pack of hyenas observing its prey for the mere second before it rushed in. It bit into him, trying to consume his soul.


    He let it.


    And watched as a purple fire rose up to consume it instead. He watched as that fire grew a darker shade of purple, as it began to grow in power. The Death aura tried to fight it, but all was feast for the flames, and all was consumed.


    A black-purple flame now danced within the metal. A flame made of Death and something else, something he couldn¡¯t quite make out. It twisted and writhed in its own form, the binding complete but¡ª


    WARNING: Soul Bond unstable. Please close the Bindi¨C


    The fire twisted in its conforms, purple-black aura flowing in harrowing patterns, dragging the essence in the binding along with it, attempting to affix it in a new formation. It didn¡¯t didn¡¯t have the Essence for what it was trying to attempt, but it knew where it could find more.


    No.


    Alex began hammering.


    Not just hammering, shaping. Not just the weapon, but his new life.


    Not just a vague idea. He needed something concrete! An actionable plan, a clear goal. He¡¯d stalled long enough, if he couldn¡¯t find it now he never would.


    He¡¯d always been like this. Vague notions of the future for a man who didn¡¯t expect to live the day through. He¡¯d used to dream of switching out his class, of being anything but a Blacksmith, but even when the opportunity came had he given a single thought to what else he might be? For fucks sake, he¡¯d imagined this moment a million times¡ªnot like this, but here it was!


    You don¡¯t have to walk the same path, an old, broken voice told him, you can do anything you want now.


    But then he felt his bloodline there, within reach, his again and his trait buzzed in his skull, it reverberated, and something about it all just felt so right.


    He laughed.


    He hammered.


    His mana pool dipped further down as he crammed more behind the strikes.


    The aura tried to tug at his soul, it tried to fight him for control over the binding¡¯s pattern. And as it realized it was losing that battle, some of it tried to escape. Dark spots at the edges of the flame flickered and tapered off. He couldn¡¯t stop it.


    But if he could retain just 30% of the aura...


    Then I¡¯ll have a solid common-grade weapon on my hands.


    No, fuck that.


    That was the old Alex speaking. The one who¡¯d lost everything he¡¯d treasured. The one who got thrown onto his ass out of his Master¡¯s forge.


    Swallow your emotions, don¡¯t contaminate the piece.


    But hadn¡¯t his greatest creation come from an overpour of emotions? A passion so powerful even his shitty class optimization couldn¡¯t stop it? Had he ever truly understood what it meant to put himself in his creations?


    He laughed again, reaching for his bloodline to steady his arm.


    Strength +8!


    The heat of the forge tinged his skin and electricity coursed through sore muscles as he realized he was still Charged. His hair stuck to his forehead and he sweltered underneath his clothes. He ripped his shirt off and flames licked his body. His hammer struck down. Over and over.


    Again.


    Strength +9!


    And again.


    Strength +10!


    And again.


    Strength +11!


    Alex¡¯s mana pool dipped to 9% as he crammed more behind the strikes. The aura tried to tug at him, tried to leach all it could from his soul, but he trapped it all back into the ingot.


    Then the unintegrated Necromantic aura on the fringe of the fire began to disperse and he couldn¡¯t have that either so he fed just a sliver more essence through to the flame as bait.


    [Mana - 7%]


    The Purple-black aura was taking all that he had given it and throwing it back at him. It latched itself greedily to his soul and he kept beating it back. It was a race to finalize the blade¡¯s shape before he ran out of mana, to affix its essence pattern before it tried to form its own¡ªto close the Soul Bond before he died.


    He was done with compromises, done with pacing himself.


    He¡¯d been given another chance at life, what was the point if he didn¡¯t live how he wanted? Hadn¡¯t he told himself no regrets? Hadn¡¯t he wished so desperately for that freedom?!


    Then what did he want?


    I want to save my sister¨C


    What else?


    I want to surpass those who left me behind. I want to save everyone I failed. I¡¯ll kill my enemies before they even have the chance¨C


    No. Deeper than that. What was it at the core of his being? What was it he needed more than anything else?


    Sparks flew.


    Like the ones Alex would watch as a kid. The shadowy ingot whistling as¡ªno, it was no longer an ingot. It was taking shape, Alex could tell what it wanted from the aura¡¯s anticipation of his hammer, the shrill vibration of its remnant essence. Their wants were almost aligned now.


    So what is it I want¨C


    His hammer struck, one last time. And the answer appeared in front of him.


    ***


    There was a low-pitched hum.


    A sound like a rough scrape.


    No, not just a sound, a feeling, a familiar rhythm. Monotone, yet strangely melodic. In a way that reverberated in your skin, grainy, grounding¡­calming, like a lonesome night under a roof of rain.


    He¡¯d been¡­ tempering his sword¡­ no, he¡¯d been fitting it? It was all a blur, but he remembered holding it against the grindstone, that rough-hedged vibration on his fingertips. It always calmed him after an intense forging.


    He could still hear it now, if he closed his eyes. The wheel spinning, the shaving and sharpening of cold metal. Then the noise suddenly stopped.


    Alex opened his eyes feeling like he¡¯d taken his first full night¡¯s rest in years. The auburn color of sky leaking through the shed door told a different story though. He rubbed his head where a bump protruded.


    Shit¡­ I must¡¯ve conked at some point.


    His notifications were pinging annoyingly for his attention, but he waved them away. He didn¡¯t need it to tell him he¡¯d managed to close soul bond, he could well enough from the fact he was still alive, and still had a soul. Instead he opened his system to get a full rundown of what had changed.


    Alex Smith


    Race: Human


    Bloodline: [Forged in Fire]


    Class: N/A


    Level: 10


    Titles: N/A


    Attributes: [Half-Dead Persistence]


    HP: 90%


    Mana: 11%


    Stamina: 31%


    Skills:


    [Stealth] Lvl 10 (novice)


    [Metalwork] Lvl 9 (novice)


    [Meld] Lvl 6 (novice)


    [Examine] Lvl 3 (novice)


    Free Skill Slots: 7


    Stats:


    Vitality - 3


    Strength - 12


    Dexterity - 4


    Fortitude - 7


    Perception - 5


    Arcane - 5


    He grunted, then nodded once. Truthfully, he was more relieved than anything really.


    Alex¡¯s sleep, though it was hardly a full night¡¯s rest, had done wonders for Stamina recovery. It was now back to an almost functioning level¡ªthough his perspective on the matter may have been a skewed one. And as he stood from where he¡¯d napped on the floor, he noticed that there was a lot more that had changed as well.


    His body was different¡ªtall and lean still, but also slightly wider now. There was a subtle build to it and he could tell from the ease of movement, the confidence in his step, just how large that boost to his Strength must have been. It wasn¡¯t enough yet, but he¡¯d gone from sub-human to something almost greater-than. He could let himself celebrate that at least.


    He moved lethargically, large hands trailing the dust of the workspace. The lighting was darker now that the fire had gone out, but his soul was fixed and whole and he wasn¡¯t dead. That was enough to know he must have completed her. On his work table he saw a fragment of shadow that seemed to blur darker than all the others and reached for it¡ªonly to halt as he sensed a presence.


    Someone had entered the forge.


    He could hear their soft, shallow steps on the packed dirt as they approached. Not all that surprising of course, the chimney had been smoking for hours. Him being there was in no way a secret. And also¡­


    He glanced at the scant sunlight feeding through the shed¡¯s cracks. It was growing dimmer, fast. His respite was over it seemed.


    ¡°We were worried about you, Alex,¡± the voice said as it came closer, ¡°You didn¡¯t show up to the Adventurer¡¯s registration like the others.¡±


    Ah, Alex realized. Not just anyone. It was him.


    The Mayor stepped up to him, putting his hand on his shoulder, ¡°I don¡¯t intend to bother you, of course, I know you¡ª¡±


    That was the last thing he¡¯d said before his head fell from his neck.


    It rolled away from his body, trailing blood until it came to a stop close to the doorway. His eyes were glassy as they stared up in shock.


    Then they started to melt, along with all his flesh until he was nothing but empty sockets in an old skull. His decapitated body turned to bones as well where it collapsed. Alex noticed how those spindly fingers were positioned towards a rusted knife beneath his clothes. His own fingers instinctively went to his eye where his oldest scar had once run.


    The skull¡¯s teeth chattered with humor, ¡°Ruthless bastard, how did you even kno¨C¡±


    He ran his new blade through the skull¡¯s crown and this time it was silenced for good.


    You have slain an Undead Mayor!


    +50 Essence Crystals


    Alex supposed he¡¯d just enacted his first act of revenge, but even that didn¡¯t matter to him right now. He paid the notifications no attention as he trailed his fingers along his blade¡¯s edge.


    It was a light blade¡ªlighter than it had any right being at thirty-five inches of length, thanks to the material. He¡¯d grown used to wielding relatively lengthy swords and he wasn¡¯t ready to give that up, nor his one handed wielding style. But if there was one area he¡¯d gone outside his comfort zone with this night¡ªaside from risking his soul¡ªit was the shape.


    He knew that Oslumnen¡¯s inherent brittleness was the sword¡¯s greatest weakness so he¡¯d modeled it after the Persian Shamshir with a steep, backward curve¡ªtapering off to a thin and sharp tip, shaped like the crescent end of Death¡¯s sickle. It would allow for a non-confrontative style of attack, with sweeping slashes and glancing blows.


    It was a sword made for striking from shadows rather than to wage a war on the battlefield, but he¡¯d forged it with a passion he¡¯d been unable to replicate since Lys. Even if it wasn¡¯t a rare grade weapon, even if this blade wouldn¡¯t last him all his years¡­ it was perfect.


    He brushed his finger further up the spine. There was a dark glint along the crescent¡¯s edge where the undead¡¯s blood disintegrated¡ªa presence that made him feel as if that armor¡¯s spirit wasn¡¯t entirely gone.


    He¡¯d thought about it, in those final moments of shaping. That set of armor had been resurrected against its will, and yet it had been abandoned for so long, forgotten and never worn, had that Necromancer really come along at such perfect timing to reap the rewards in the final stage?


    No, he¡¯d surmised, It¡¯d lost hope long before that. But that¡¯s not the same as wishing for death, now is it.


    He held the blade¡¯s flat gently across his fingers and it shimmered, resonating in his bones.


    Bloodline activated.


    [Undeath¡¯s Bane (Uncommon, F Grade)]


    A fragile blade of death and newfound purpose.


    Trait: Cleanse - purges the undead.


    Title obtained! [The First Spark]


    You¡¯re the first person to craft a weapon in Nightmare!


    You¡¯ll find it easier to obtain higher grade modifiers when forging.


    Alex walked out into the crimson dusk, striding past two burly adventurers¡ªthe ones he¡¯d sensed trailing him since he¡¯d left the guild hall. Their eyes were drawn to the sword, the ash of the mayor¡¯s blood dissipating off the tip. Their hands went immediately to their own weapons and yet they didn¡¯t draw. Their limitation¡¯s must¡¯ve been lifted the moment Alex struck the mayor, they no longer had reason to hesitate, but they did so anyway.


    Across the way, a whole legion of villagers had gathered. The woman who¡¯d been selling flowers waved at him, a child¡¯s ball dropped and rolled to his feet and he looked up expectantly. Dusk fell, and their flesh all fell away with it, making way for chattering bone and stubborn sinew.


    A witless villager stepped within range of his blade, and immediately the night erupted into violence.


    My deepest desire, Alex mused, carving another limb.


    He still hadn¡¯t the slightest idea. While he¡¯d been forging, for a moment he¡¯d felt like he¡¯d found the answer, but the words had faded from him like sand, flowing into the blade itself.


    Still, there¡¯d been one other revelation of late. One that¡¯d been bothering him since he¡¯d first come back to this world, perhaps even long before then. It seemed the freedom he yearned for¡ªtrue freedom, was only achievable by one method.


    The blade¡¯s Oslumnen edge sheared through air, singing at a higher pitch than steel as it sliced bone.


    By becoming so powerful no one can take it away.


    Alex twirled, decapitating two undead Adventures and whipping the blood off his blade in the same motion. The nearest wave of undead gave pause and he lifted the blade to his lips, giving its face a soft smooch under the new moon.


    Alex was firm on his resolve. There were things he wanted now, and that was good enough. When the sun rose and he left this accursed town it would be as a [Blacksmith-Warrior].


    His lip curled in a smile.


    ¡°Seems we¡¯ll be seeing some action tonight,¡± he whispered.


    ***


    Mandatory Scenario has been triggered


    SCENARIO 2 ¡ª Night of the Undead


    This wicked Town has sold their souls for unfathomable power, and now they will feast upon yours! The High Council enlists your help in putting this great evil to rest once and for all!


    Lobby count: 25


    Rewards:


    3,000 Essence Crystals


    1 Skill Trial-Token


    Intermediate Skills Catalog


    Items and Potions will be unlocked for Purchase in the Shop.


    Bonus rewards will be unlocked based on point tally:


    Undead Villagers ¡ª 1 point


    Town Mayor ¡ª 2 points


    Undead Adventurers ¡ª 3 points


    Undead Captains ¡ª 10 points


    Guild Master Lionheart ¡ª X


    Bonus Rewards:


    15 Points ¡ª Receive one Status-Recovery Potion.


    30 Points ¡ª Receive a Common-Grade Weapon from the shop up to 5,000 EC in value.


    50 Points ¡ª Receive one High-Grade Potion Box-set.


    100 Points ¡ª Receive one Skill from the Shop up to 20,000 EC in value.


    X ¡ª ???


    Warning: Points can only be earned before Midnight.


    Additional Bonus rewards will be awarded at Scenario Completion based on a graded assessment of your performance.


    Clear Conditions:


    Survive until sunrise.


    Good luck!

 9 — Cleanse

    ¡°...while I try to chronicle all that I can about the rarer Class-requirements and Skill Paths I come across, it is only inevitable that the more secretive ones evade detail. This next one is no exception to that trend. After the fall of the evasive Stonedance Clan on Ovsha centuries past, too many of their secrets died with them¡ªand even had they not, I doubt my speculations on the matter will help many accomplish what they did.


    As it so happens, the [Blacksmith-Warrior] Skill Path method used by the Clan has actually been pieced together for centuries now. Therefore the barrier for replication in this case lies not with that, but with an additional unknown Class-requirement. That is all that can be drawn from the matter in confidence.


    Now, please understand that I am about to engage in an unprofessional amount of speculation, such that this anthology will likely never see the light of day. And understand that were I not to there¡¯d be little point in me writing it to begin with. But I have studied countless historical texts in my time, and even talked to a long distant descendent of the eradicated clan. And I believe I know what that Class-requirement is.


    Not a whole lot is known about the Stonedance Clan, but from what little is, they were thought to be Smiths before Warriors. A tame people that preferred the hammer over the sword¡ªexcept for when they had little choice otherwise¡ªthen, they were said to dance with their pieces like they weren¡¯t mere weapons but partners in performance. They were not a people known to shy from bloodshed. In fact, they had a very high rate of death amongst their young.


    Abnormally high.


    To wield the brush as if it were your limb, it is thought that an artist must be born with one in their grip. I believe that this is no different. And I believe the clan forewent the common practice of having a guide help level them towards fifteen. Here, you will see what I mean when I say knowledge on this method may do little good. My speculation is this:


    To achieve the [Blacksmith-Warrior] Class one must not only acquire the proper balance of Blacksmith and Warrior skills, but they must also craft their own weapon, and from there, acquire the majority of their Essence towards Class-equip through its singular use.¡±


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">An unnamed, unauthored text. Anonymously stolen from the restricted section of the Imperial Libraries on Uern.</li>


    </ul>


    ***


    The white moon reflected scarlet off Alex¡¯s blood-stained blade as he leveled it at the horde of townsfolk.


    Next to him, a pitch-fork-wielding undead looked down in confusion, as if wondering why he couldn¡¯t move the arm lying at his feet. That look disappeared as his head posthumously slid from his neck.


    3 Undead Townsfolk have been Cleansed!


    + 90 Essence Crystals


    +3 Points


    2 Undead Adventurers have been Cleansed!


    +200 Essence Crystals


    +6 Points


    Progress towards next reward: [11/15 Points]


    ¡°What,¡± Alex mocked, ¡°Is that all you got?¡±


    He ran his mouth, but inwardly, his mind raced to get an accurate read of his enemies. He gave up on an exact count rather quickly and started estimating by groups of dozens. It seemed his presence had practically summoned the whole town here, like piranhas who swarm to finish whatever the sharks let through to calm waters.


    They filled the overgrown clearing in front of the smithy, filing into the alleyways and homes of the nearest buildings. He counted up to two-hundred before his mind gave up.


    And yet, for all that they outnumbered him, no one made to attack.


    ¡°Oi, what are you fuckers doing? Is he dead yet?!¡± Someone shouted.


    ¡°No, he¡¯s just standing there! Ain¡¯t even a scratch on him!¡±


    ¡°Then fuck the draw! If the bastards up front are gonna be such wusses let me go at him!¡±


    Vulgarities were being shouted by those too far back to see, but the frontline wasn¡¯t budging. For creatures that were used to casually walking off dismemberment, the ease of their comerade¡¯s deaths made them cautious now; the closest of them backing warily away from his sword like they ought to be the ones terrified of him.


    Disappointing. He¡¯d been hoping a few more would¡¯ve rushed him, enough to get him his first reward. But he also couldn¡¯t blame them.


    Undead were not used to fearing death¡ªnot true death anyway.


    Sure, with enough damage their bones might crumble to ash, but he doubted that would be the end for them. The system wasn¡¯t above reusing assets and he¡¯d looked it up in records after the Integration; this wasn¡¯t the first time Nightmare had been used as a tutorial world, only the last. As long as their souls were still intact it would be easy enough to just resurrect them for next time, or so they probably thought.


    But the ones dead as dust at his feet? No, they wouldn¡¯t be coming back.


    ¡°Alright then!¡± Alex ordered, ¡°Here¡¯s how we''re gonna do this! You lot over there, you¡¯re going to clear me a path! And the first fools who try to¡ª¡±


    ¡°No!¡±


    Alex stopped and pivoted to point his blade at the one who stepped forwards.


    So he speaks.


    He¡¯d already taken note of the man during his count, and he now recognized him as the Adventurer who had entered the Guild with them earlier that day. He was a broad, muscular man with a mohawk and more than just a little flesh left on his bones.


    [Lugrin - Lvl 11]


    Captain-rank Undead


    ¡°A Captain eh? Ten points is a whole lot for an oversized fleshbag!¡± Alex shouted.


    Unfortunately the Adventurer didn¡¯t budge at his provocation. He just grinned, a cold, hard thing.


    ¡°Guess he was right to be wary of you,¡± he said. Then instead of becoming enraged and charging him, he walked back towards the frontline, ripped the spine out of the nearest undead, and bellowed.


    ¡°You louts scared of a little baptism or something?!¡±


    Four more Adventurers stepped out then, reinforcing the threat and Alex saw a new look of determination on the sea of skulls. Something in the way they edged cautiously forward told him they wouldn¡¯t be politely lining up one by one for him anymore.


    This was already going nothing like he hoped.


    ¡°This is your last warning,¡± he growled.


    It was a low, deep thing. Gravely and guttural like a wolf with its maw twisted in a sneer. Some of them faltered at that¡ªup until another of them fell prey to their Captain¡¯s wrath. And by then, Alex had already made up his mind.


    He slid his blade back into his belt loop, turned, and ducked back into the smithy.


    The eleven point increase in strength hadn¡¯t turned him into the hulk overnight, but it did make the exchange a little less awkward as he drew the wooden doors shut and latched them. They just stared in momentary stupor as he did it.


    Hah, who was I kidding? ¡®Last warning¡¯ my ass.


    No sooner than he had the thought did the first pitchfork splinter through wood, with a dull cracking sound like a plank being crushed. No, the plan was never to face them head on.


    Sure, he¡¯d squeeze their arrogance for all it was worth, but he always intended to dip at the first sign of danger. In fact, the back window was already open for escape, not that it had any pane to begin with.


    It¡¯s just, the thing was, he¡¯d thought their arrogance would¡¯ve been worth a little more.


    He¡¯d nearly emptied his mana pool with that forging and the first fifteen-percent was always a hell to get back without a mana potion. Which he would¡¯ve gotten if only four more of the idiots decided to rush him.


    There just had to be one with some wits on them. Curse my fate.


    The crunch of wood dragged him from his thoughts as a woodsman¡¯s stone ax lodged itself into the door. By the second it was looking less like a door and more like a collection of makeshift weapons held together by wood. There were grunts and expletive heaving as the hoard rammed against it like a battering ram. It was thick but it wouldn''t hold out much longer.


    They were all Townsfolk, but poorly armed or not, the most dangerous thing about an undead horde was that it was a horde. If there could be no psychological leverage with the creatures then he had no business facing them head on.


    And yet for some reason, Alex still hadn¡¯t left. He just stood there, a few paces from the door.


    ¡­perhaps I¡¯m giving them too much credit.


    The thought took him by surprise, but the longer it took them to break down that door the more he thought it might be valid.


    He¡¯d been here before, been run ragged by these very same undead. He¡¯d received his first scars here, and even outside of Nightmare Alex had faced numbers like these and had known the consequences.


    But these weren¡¯t the monsters he was used to, not anymore.


    It was funny. He¡¯d been weak for so long that he¡¯d forgotten something that might¡¯ve been important. Forgotten that, as weak as he may be, those creatures out there¡­ they were all weaker than him now.


    He drew his blade again, looking down the deep slant of its curve.


    There was a curious glint there on its surface, as if it were asking what he might do with it. As if it were hoping for a very specific answer to that question.


    ¡°Alright then,¡± he decided, ¡°Let¡¯s see what you can do.¡±


    Alex stopped and turned to face the axe-battered door. His stance was low, knees bent, back foot pivoted for support. He leveled his sword, holding it at a slightly upward angle so its tip pointed forward at the door. He had one hand on the hilt, the other folded neatly behind his back.


    He closed his eyes.


    Somehow, he could actually feel his sword.


    He could tell exactly how level it was to the ground, and exactly how far it extended from his grip. He normally didn¡¯t have as strong a sense of these things on the first date, but he knew her dimensions sword-point to pommel and that allowed for maneuvers he might¡¯ve struggled with otherwise.


    She wasn¡¯t a thing for jabbing, but that wasn¡¯t for lack of a sharp tip.


    She?


    He focused deeper, looking inwards towards his soul. It flared indignantly like a sun.


    Essence tethers Strength to the soul, and the soul to its body. And in doing so¡­ lines a path for mana to follow.


    He reached out for that sun but his arcane senses moved so clumsily, so slowly, like there was some source of hesitation holding them back. They grasped nothing.


    ¡°Oh fuck it, you louts are useless! I¡¯ll just open the damn thing myself!¡±


    There was a heavy thud outside, but Alex paid it no mind. He reached out again and he realized that hesitation had belonged to him. His sword on the other hand seemed to tremble as if it might fly from his grip, and it scared him. He tried to fight it, to limit the flow of mana, but his arcane senses edged languidly towards his soul regardless, undeterred, excited.


    They found purchase.


    There was a shallow hazy flow on the sun¡¯s exterior, intangible but for its subtle heat. He drew it along his body¡¯s pathways and with a rough sizzle it bubbled up through his chest, traveled the span of his arms, into his sword and¡ªbefore he knew it he was already moving.


    A large-framed Undead barreled through the door then, and in his fleshless eyes Alex saw fear.


    Then all blurred in swift movement as he lunged forward.


    You have learned a new skill!


    [Pierce]


    The Undead just stood there, looking down at the sword embedded in his armor in confusion as the world settled. It was just the tip of his blade. A thin thing, like the slightest prick of a rose¡¯s thorn where the undead¡¯s heart would¡¯ve been.


    For a second he seemed like he would simply shrug it off. And if it were any other sword Alex was certain he would¡¯ve, but instead he toppled over, lifeless.


    Undead Captain Lugrin has been Cleansed!


    +500 Essence


    +10 points


    Alex just stared at his hand for a second, his quiver uncontrollable. It was only him shaking now, his sword had gone completely still. Still and silent.


    It¡¯s content, he realized.


    And why wouldn¡¯t it be? It had just consumed his entire mana pool! He was down to 1% now, and he was pretty sure that was an overestimation on the System¡¯s behalf.


    Wait¡­ what the hell is ¡®content¡¯ supposed to¨C


    You have reached the 15 Point Quota for your first reward. Please choose¡ª


    Mana Potion has been received.


    Alex didn¡¯t have time to dwell on the matter.


    Before the undead could adjust to their officer¡¯s death, he quickly leapt out the back window and ducked behind the cobble. He scrambled to uncork the lid and quickly drank the blue liquid down before disappearing into a shroud of [Stealth].


    It tasted how it looked¡ªlike Kool-aid.


    ***


    The memory of that night was so old, and yet so fresh in Alex¡¯s mind. His breath had come panting and heavy, and his sprint had made him all too aware of the thin-ness of skin that was holding all his jumbling bones together.


    He¡¯d been running down the town¡¯s twisting streets and alleyways in the dark, seemingly at random. Turns and hiding spots were decided by the scrapes and shouts of undead rather than any sense of navigation. Shadows flitted and fled from the torchlight of his pursuers, and that told him when it was time to move again. There¡¯d been three others with him when they¡¯d emerged from the underground tunnels and he was the slowest of them.


    There¡¯d used to be a fifth.


    Alex wasn¡¯t sure how it had happened. He could no longer remember, but before long he¡¯d found himself separated. It¡¯d taken all he had not to shout for help, and when a shaded figure had come back for him anyway he¡¯d felt so relieved he could cry.


    At least, up until he¡¯d unmasked himself from the shadows and swung his knife at his eye. It¡¯d been how he earned his first scar, and for that entire night he¡¯d gone on thinking he¡¯d been blinded up until he managed to clean the red from his vision.


    Now, the shadows shifted again, but a different man stepped out this time.


    Stolen story; please report.


    He was tall but no longer so gaunt. Ethereal, like he was not entirely of this realm¡ªbut not so spectral that the undead didn¡¯t cower at what his sword would do. He looked tired, exhausted, but it was not a look that reflected in his eyes. And when he swung his wicked, curved blade, there was only a predatory fire in his gaze.


    As for the blade itself¡­ they had no time to fear it before they tasted the sweet release of death.


    2 Undead Townsfolk have been Cleansed!


    + 60 Essence Crystals


    +2 Points


    Progress towards next reward: [27/30 Points]


    Alex didn¡¯t let the undead clatter noisily to the ground, but he didn¡¯t hide their corpses either. It would take only seconds for the unit that passed by earlier to realize they had stragglers, and when they found a pile of bones or dust in this alleyway, they would follow it South, believing he was headed towards the main gates. The ones they had come through on the way in.


    He wasn¡¯t.


    He cleaved his shamshir blade through the lock of a house¡¯s side door. And, knowing they wouldn¡¯t notice the damage in this dark, walked in, walked up, and set the top floor window ajar its hinges so he could hear better.


    ¡°Shit, two more¡ªfuck! You, Go tell the Captains, the rest follow me! We¡¯re right on his tail!¡±


    It was an Adventurer who spoke now. Alex noted that he said ¡®Captains¡¯ with a plural. They¡¯d been quick to replace the one he¡¯d killed earlier, but it seemed the havoc he¡¯d been wreaking thus far from the shadows was enough to warrant a second.


    He also took note of the lone towns-man he¡¯d ordered to his bidding. He noted which direction he went, what route he took, and eventually decided the message he was bringing was worth more to him than the single point he¡¯d get from picking him off.


    He stayed close to the shadows as torchlight peered in briefly from below, and then his eyes settled on a seemingly random patch of dark in the distance. Random, at least, if you hadn¡¯t been there before.


    The house on that corner had a wine cellar that connected to the underground tunnels, but his eyes caught no movement at its entrance.


    Not yet huh.


    He frowned. His recollection of that night was hazy. He didn¡¯t remember how long it had taken for them to escape in his first life, but it¡¯d already been¡­


    [14:37]


    ¡­right, about fifteen minutes since the Scenario started. He¡¯d started a timer immediately and he hadn¡¯t seen heads or tails of anyone else since then.


    Those tunnels hadn¡¯t been empty of threats, but he also hadn¡¯t been an asset to those he¡¯d escaped with. Hell, he thought they might¡¯ve actually gotten out a little faster without him.


    An ugly hunch was starting to bubble in his gut, telling him that no one would surface this time. But he¡¯d never been much of an optimist so that didn¡¯t say much. And whether Jun was with them or not, the ones that had caught on to the sedation had been far from useless last time. They would be good cards.


    Gloomy wasn¡¯t a good card. And he wasn¡¯t comfortable taking her into battle either, but for her sake he hoped she made it out as well.


    Regardless, the further he drew the undead away from their path of exit¡ªthe more cards he had¡ªthe better his odds.


    And it wasn¡¯t like he minded wreaking havoc in the meantime.


    [15:49]


    Alright, time to move.


    Alex took one last look at the layout of the town. It crested an uneven hill, with the Guild Hall, the center plaza, and a large manor that had to have been the Mayor¡¯s, on a rise near the northern end.


    It meant that those he¡¯d sent down South would have to fight uphill on the return, which was good. But it also meant that those further North had a leg up on him and a better view to boot.


    [Half-Dead Persistence] has been Activated. Stamina consumption has been decreased.


    Stamina: 22%


    He crept between thankfully-tight buildings, ducking low when an orange glaze whizzed past his head. Then he slid up to a window and his pommel broke the glass with a soft shatter.


    The door had been unlocked.


    Which he already knew of course, but he couldn¡¯t count on all his pursuers to be carrying lit torches to identify them by and he¡¯d much rather know ahead of time if he¡¯d be walking into danger.


    The wood was old. It creaked too much, and was audible even to those outside if you stepped in the wrong spots.


    Those characteristics were uniform across all the buildings he¡¯d visited and it really drove home just how engineered this whole thing was. The horde, for all their numbers, were less than what the populace of this town should¡¯ve been, and largely congregated around the center where the Plaza was. The further out you went the easier it was to slip between them unnoticed, the easier it was to pick them off unseen.


    That was how this scenario was balanced.


    But that also wasn¡¯t his mission right now, so he didn¡¯t bother cloaking his presence when he swung the house¡¯s front door open. It led out onto one of the Town¡¯s main streets and he walked down the front steps casually, even as he was spotted.


    The fire end of a torch swung near him and Alex punched the undead in the face on reflex. Gangly teeth splintered and fell from the undead¡¯s mouth as he spun backwards onto the ground. Alex took the torch gratefully, vanishing it into his inventory in its lit state¡ªthough too much rotten flesh and cartilage had broken beneath his fist for him to feel entirely comfortable with the act.


    His sword also seemed¡­ displeased, so he slit the next one¡¯s throat.


    An Undead Townsfolk has been Cleansed!


    +30 Essence Crystals


    +1 Point


    There were three remaining now¡ªall townsfolk¡ªand Alex had just lost his initiative.


    A pitchfork swung near his face and he¡¯d been about to take it on the flat of his blade like he would¡¯ve with Lys. Then he thought better of it, barely pulling his blade back in time.


    He dodged, but it was a clumsy, sluggish thing. It whizzed past his cheek with the kind of rusted edge that would give a man tetanus. Alex¡¯s arms were starting to feel like lead but he swung his sword up anyway, her enthusiasm carrying him through the motion.


    ¡°Aggghh¨C!¡±


    The undead screamed out in pain and his pitchfork made a sharp clang in the night as it clattered. Torches up and down the road stopped moving at the sound.


    Alex didn¡¯t.


    2 Undead Townsfolk have been Cleansed!


    +60 Essence Crystals


    +2 Points


    He looked down distastefully at the undead he¡¯d punched earlier. He was still there, quivering like a lost puppy before a wolf. His legs didn¡¯t seem to be working¡ªthough Alex knew that was impossible, anatomically speaking.


    ¡°Yo-you¡­please¡­ spare..me--¡±


    ¡°Sure.¡±


    Alex turned and left in the direction he wanted to be seen going, finding himself joined by a quickly growing company of undead. Shouts and the bloodthirsty gnashing of teeth chorused behind him.


    He led them around by the nose for a few minutes, legs pumping as he gathered enough search groups to keep the momentum of the chase going without him. Then, as soon as he managed to get out of view, he swerved onto another backroad, heading back the way he came.


    He panted. His breath felt heavier than it should with his stats and no Attribute would change the fact that it would only get worse as his stamina lowered. This was as far South as he¡¯d risk being seen. If the others got caught during their escape then that was on them.


    Alex ducked beneath the shadows of river crossing as boots showered overhead on the canal bridge. He cut his breath and put a finger to his pulse, counting the seconds until his heartbeat lowered.


    You have reached the 30 Point Quota for your Second reward. Advance access to the Item shop has been granted.


    Please choose a weapon up to 5,000 EC in value.


    A weapon¡­


    He swept the notification away. It was a priceless reward, sure, but it¡¯d been sent to entirely the wrong man. At least for this night, there was nothing in there that would be better than his Shamshir blade.


    Even with her¡­ defects.


    His fingers trailed across her surface and he restrained his displeasure to a silent grimace when they found something a hair¡¯s breadth deeper than a mere scratch.


    Soul Link has been damaged. HP cannot be restored above 98%.


    And this was the reason his Master would¡¯ve slugged him for what he¡¯d done.


    See, people didn¡¯t just casually Soul-Bond with weapons. Or with rocks, or anything without a soul for that matter. It simply wasn¡¯t done. Soul Bonds weren¡¯t just some kind of overcomplicated Essence binding, they were an agreement¡ªone that touched further than just the soul, contrary to the name.


    Of course, the details of the process varied on circumstance. Depending on whether it was Summoner doing one, a Beast Tamer, or even some sort of Witch, but they were never made in light in any case. Enacting a Soul Bond linked one''s fates to one another¡ªand while that was rarely to the extent of ¡°in sickness and in health¡±, there were always some drawbacks to the arrangement.


    Now, the problem with Soul bonding with something that had no soul was that you couldn¡¯t really haggle down from that ¡°in sickness and in health¡± part. You could only establish the bond on its most integral level.


    Which, unfortunately, meant there¡¯d be no ¡°Till death do us part¡± for them either.


    Alex sighed. Not even a health potion would take his health past that 98th percentile anymore, but at least he wouldn¡¯t actively be taking on damage whenever his blade chipped either. And as long as that stayed the case, a mere 5,000 EC wasn¡¯t enough for him to shell her out.


    Her [Cleanse] trait was too invaluable tonight.


    Just for tonight. Once tonight ends¡­ I¡¯ll¡­


    His thoughts tapered off into blurry darkness. His sword was cold on his lap, but light. Too light. But something gave him the feeling that he shouldn¡¯t finish that thought.


    That was fine, it was becoming difficult to think.


    His eyes fought not to close.


    Stamina: 17%


    He winced, then shook himself out of it. When your stamina began to tick down even from inactivity, that¡¯s when you knew you were past the point of rest breaks and had to just push through it.


    Frankly, he was getting tired of having this problem. So it was thankful that there was an easy fix.


    Progress towards next reward: [30/50 Points]


    Well, maybe not an ¡®easy¡¯ fix.


    The distant echo of footsteps turned Alex¡¯s attention back on the problem. He glanced at the water¡¯s surface.


    It was a shallow, murky body of water, but reflective enough under the moonlight. There were five torchlights that he could see downriver within the span of about 100 yards or so¡ªall equally spaced to each side and not patrolling in any organized or discernable patterns.


    And upriver?


    There were fewer in that direction. Their movements were still disorganized¡ªsuggesting they weren¡¯t Adventurers¡ªbut at least one of the groups was heading South along the river bank. He¡¯d put it at about a minute before their paths crossed. They would notice him at their angle, stealth or not.


    So they still think I¡¯m down South.


    That was good. But the fact that their investments in the search down there had slowed was not.


    He¡¯d put some distance between where he¡¯d hid now and where he¡¯d been spotted, but it¡¯d been hard to shake his pursuers without raising suspicion and he wasn¡¯t as far North as he¡¯d like to be.


    Time was ticking.


    It wouldn¡¯t be long now before all those goons he¡¯d sent on a wild goose-chase either got bored or forgot about him. And the only thing worse than trekking an uphill battle was doing so with enemies at your back.


    The torch-light was quickly approaching his position. He gripped his Shamshir blade by the leathers he¡¯d hastily wrapped around her tang in place of a proper grip.


    Should I give them a reminder I¡¯m still here?


    This time he meant the kind of reminder that didn¡¯t leave witnesses.


    His sword¡¯s aura grew responsive again at the prospect of killing¡ªor cleansing. But he looked at his stamina bar and decided against it. There was no guarantee that they hadn¡¯t started patrolling in larger groups since he¡¯d begun picking them off, which would be problematic enough given his condition.


    And if they hadn¡¯t?


    Then it seemed doubtful he¡¯d get the points he needed before his Stamina dipped too low. Not if he had to set up three or four ambushes to get there. That approach had run its course. Picking at the weaklings wasn¡¯t going to do it anymore.


    Time for a shift in strategy then.


    Time, he supposed, to check up on his cards.


    The torchlight quickly closed in, skipping along the river surface¡¯s ripples. Alex flexed his legs to get blood flowing beneath his veins and by the time his position was discovered, he¡¯d already vanished.


    Stealth has leveled up!


    Stealth is now Level 13.


    Progress towards Apprentice rank: 65%


    There was a certain sort of empowerment to be had in whittling away at forces greater than yourself. A sharp clarity that came from playing at the knife¡¯s edge, but if you weren¡¯t careful it could cut both ways.


    Alex moved further into the town, conserving mana when he could and letting the potion¡¯s effects regenerate his reserves.


    Boots clacked on stone tiles all around him. The undead were scouring the back alleys where he¡¯d been only seconds before. Another group cut off his route by happenstance, forcing him to make a quick adjustment.


    He hung from the ledge of a roof now. His muscles burned but his grip wasn¡¯t in danger of giving out. He had a clear view now of the cellar building he¡¯d escaped from all those years ago.


    [25:09]


    Alex¡¯s heart beat faster in exertion. There was a distinct difference between his dangersense trait and the gut feelings he got sometimes. The latter wasn¡¯t anything magical or certain, just the manifestation of his pessimistic outlook on life, but that didn¡¯t stop him from trusting it.


    Something¡¯s gone wrong.


    The night was silent. Much too silent. That bad feeling from earlier ramped up in intensity.


    They should¡¯ve surfaced by now. His memory of this night was shaky in his recollection but he knew that much with certainty. This was playing out differently from before.


    But why? What the fuck did I do to cause something like this??


    He didn¡¯t know. Something miniscule perhaps, the butterfly effect. It was a useless thing to spin his mind on. He hadn¡¯t known the future the first time, so what if he didn¡¯t now? Or at least that¡¯s what he¡¯d normally say¡­


    Stamina: 13%


    Alex¡¯s darkening thoughts were cut off by the sound of the rush of footstops. They came to a sudden stop in the alleyway beneath him.


    ¡°Goddammit!¡± an undead barked, ¡°You lot go that way! The rest of you head down the other street! I want you raiding all the houses! Figure out where he¡¯s hiding!¡±


    The sounds picked up again and Alex¡¯s gaze returned below him¡­ to the Adventurer who stood just a little beneath where his feet dangled. His men all followed his commands, leaving him... alone.


    [Undead Adventurer - Lvl 6] has been slain!


    +100 Essence Crystals


    +3 points


    Alex landed in a crouch where the pile of bones and armor collapsed beneath his feet. He ripped his sword out from the crown of the dissipating skull in an awkward curved arc.


    Any insecurity he¡¯d had about how he matched up to these mobs had long since vanished. They weren¡¯t a problem---or at least they wouldn¡¯t be, were he in peak condition.


    The very first squad Alex had led had been a stealth unit, subterfuge and whittling away at enemy numbers was right up his wheelhouse. But these grunts weren''t the prize of the scenario, the Boss was. And for that he needed allies, a proper party.


    He looked back in the direction of the cellar, knowing full well it would be useless to check now. If the others hadn¡¯t already surfaced by now then they weren¡¯t going to.


    Again, he thought.


    Alex grit his teeth. He¡¯d been in this position far too many times for his liking, and he could feel those memories bleeding into his thoughts. He was the last one again. It was only him remaining.


    Four capable people¨C


    Four cards. He was down the hand he¡¯d been counting on, that was what really mattered here. And it wasn¡¯t a good statistic either. If he survived too many Scenarios alone, the constellations might take notice earlier than he wanted.


    This doesn¡¯t necessarily mean they¡¯re dead, he reminded himself.


    It wasn¡¯t hope, just cold calculation.


    Regardless, if they were still in the Guild¡¯s hold then they were useless to him now.


    It was funny now that he thought of it, how knowing the ¡°future¡± had screwed him over so bad. It was so much worse to be certain of a thing only for it to not happen, rather than to go in prepared for anything that might throw a plan awry.


    It¡¯d been his mistake. He should¡¯ve already known he was the only one he could rely on.


    No such carelessness from here out.


    Grimacing, Alex bent down to sift through the ashy remains of the Undead Adventurer. There wasn¡¯t anything noteworthy¡­ just gear that either didn¡¯t fit or was worse than his, a core that was useless to him, the spare bone or two for alchemy ingredients but nothing smith-grade.


    Nothing that could help him at the moment.


    He hid the corpse this time, and as the cacophony of footsteps returned he ducked out of view. Voices soon carried over to his position.


    ¡°The fuck, where¡¯s Thomas?!¡± One said.


    ¡°Shit, I don¡¯t know. Maybe he went back to relay orders?¡±


    ¡°Right, you really think he went back to the Captains right after leaving?¡±


    ¡°I said ¡®I didn¡¯t fuckin know¡¯! If you¡¯re gonna be a little shit about it, why don¡¯t we go back and check? Eh?! ever thought about that, Bronson?!¡±


    Alex waited for the pair to finish their bickering, and watched as they led a squad of a dozen or so Townsfolk back from where they¡¯d come. He¡¯d been right about them traveling in higher numbers since he¡¯d started ambushing them.


    That was the pain of dealing with the undead. They weren¡¯t all smart or all dumb, they were never just one thing. They were as varied as the living, just different. It made them unpredictable. And dangerous.


    Guess my strategy will need more shifting than I thought.


    That was fine. There was an inkling of an idea starting to form in his mind, he just needed to check on a few things first, work out all the details.


    He stepped out from where he¡¯d been hiding and entered one of the houses the undead had checked.


    Syste¨C


    Alex froze. He drew his sword.


    He wasn¡¯t alone in here. But¡­ as he squinted his eyes the sight greeting him wasn¡¯t quite what he expected either.


    In the corner of the room was a female undead. Her hair was white and patchy from her cracked skull, but he still recognized her as the woman who had given them flowers when they¡¯d first entered the gate.


    She had surprise written into her featureless face and she growled defensively as she shielded a young, undead child. Alex approached slowly, his sword¡¯s crescent point thrumming softly, and in his mind a distant memory replayed itself¡ªthe kind you never forget.


    ¡°Do you know why you always need a cleric against the undead?¡± The priestess had asked him.


    He¡¯d frowned at the question. ¡°Of course. Holy-aspected attacks prevent them from rising back up. They aren¡¯t impervious to normal attacks, but anything short of a severed head or shattered core won¡¯t do. Plus, depending on the stat optimization¡ª¡±


    Laura had shut him up by that point¡ªwith a kiss if his memory served him well.


    He pushed the thought away now, stepping carefully until he hovered the Undead pair. He poised his blade for a clean strike, and as he saw the fear in their empty sockets he repeated what she had told him the day she¡¯d died.


    ¡°It¡¯s a mercy,¡± he said.


    Trait Activated: [Cleanse]

 10 — Dice

    It¡¯d been close to thirty minutes since the Scenario had started, and the effort Alex had put forth in dividing the undead¡¯s attention¡ªthough it had led nowhere¡ªshowed clear results now. He watched the house containing the cellar from where he hid in the shadows. And despite the house¡¯s relative proximity to the plaza, there were far fewer undead patrolling this block than there otherwise would have been.


    Which he was grateful for at the moment.


    The Adventurers patrolled more commonly up here and it¡¯d been harder to pass by unnoticed. The last few minutes especially had been hard enough that even with [Stealth] his breath still pulsed and swelled with the cadence of an exerted, living creature. He could fix that by running more mana through the skill, but the focus that required would take too great a toll on his remaining stamina.


    And he needed clarity for this next part, so instead he relied on his observation skills and what little patience he still had left. He traced the rune for luck in empty air and simply waited for a gap in the undead¡¯s patrolls before making a run for it.


    Stamina: 9%


    For the blissful ten seconds from when he departed the comfort of anonymity to when he twisted the front door open, the streets were void of all signs of unlife. He entered the house and took a single breath¡¯s reprieve. Then he met what greeted him; sheer silence.


    There was no creaking beneath the floorboards, no hushed breathing. No sign that anyone had been through here tonight but him. Nothing about that surprised him but he stepped in with caution anyway, remembering how his last breaking and entering had gone.


    As expected of a place housing a personal wine cellar, the interior decor was significantly more extravagant than the other homes. The walls were mounted with various trophies¡ªwhich gave him a soft jolt, before he realized they were only dead¡ªand right in the middle of the living room¡¯s floor was a small antique rug that had once must have been red but was now dark brown.


    It was heavier than it looked and his muscles tensed as he hefted and rolled it. He stifled a violent cough as dust shook free and quickly vanished it to his inventory, revealing the trapdoor underneath. He pulled it open and even more of the stuff plumed outwards along its perimeter. Then he lowered himself by ladder into the darkness it concealed.


    When his feet finally touched solid ground, nothing but cold, stale air greeted him and it was immediately apparent that the wine cellar had not been exposed to the outside for¡­ anywhere from a decade to multiple centuries. It was hard to tell how long exactly.


    Alex summoned a torch from his inventory, the one he¡¯d snatched from the undead he¡¯d punched earlier, and illuminated the room.


    Shelves lined the walls on both sides, crowded with caskets and bottles of expired wine, condemning the cellar to feel more cramped than it already was. Across from him were boxes and bags that must¡¯ve once held fruits and flours, but were now empty. And behind them was a wall with damaged, rotten planks.


    They were eroded enough that there was hardly any crunch in the sound when Alex punched and pried the wall apart to reveal a dark tunnel. He stared down its length, picking splinters from his hands, and as expected only silence stared back. There was no one here, but he¡¯d have been remiss not to check anyway.


    ¡°Guess it¡¯s just you and me then,¡± he whispered.


    His sword didn¡¯t respond.


    ¡°Only interested in fighting huh¡­¡±


    His voice made a soft echo down the tunnel corridor but his sword didn¡¯t respond to that either.


    Honestly, she might not have been responding to him to begin with. He¡¯d felt something there when they were in the heat of battle, but that ¡®something¡¯ could¡¯ve just been what it felt like to have his soul bonded to a soulless hunk of metal. It wasn¡¯t like with Lys. He¡¯d known with Lys¡ªhad felt her, even if it took him until the very end to understand what she was saying.


    ¡°I need you to speak to me,¡± he said, ¡°If I¡¯m going crazy then that¡¯s something I need to know now. Before it becomes a problem.¡±


    ¡°...¡±


    He rubbed his temple, forcing a calm onto his growing migraine, then let out a long, long, tired exhale before turning to leave the cellar. He was here for a purpose, and if he hadn¡¯t known beforehand that he was alone in all this, then it was definitely clear now.


    Just see this through before you grow any more delirious.


    He sighed.


    You have reached the 30 Point Quota for your Second reward.


    Please choose a weapon up to 5,000 EC in value.


    Alex activated his reward.


    Just like every other plan he¡¯d conceived of on less than 10% stamina, this one was unhinged, and his margin for error would only close the more tired he got. So as quickly as he could, he searched the shop for the very last weapon he¡¯d have thought to use for this scenario and bought it.


    Your prize has been transferred to your inventory.


    His sword quivered in displeasure at his side.


    ¡°I know,¡± he soothed her, ¡°I¡¯m not happy about this either.¡±


    It was a risk, especially with the conditions for [Blacksmith-Warrior] requiring that the majority of his essence come from his sword and not some other weapon. He¡¯d be cutting that closer than he liked, but there was little choice.


    He had no other hands to play and his only options at this point was either this or to take a sweet, alluring nap right here in this cellar and to wake to the morning sun and a fresh bar of stamina.


    He thought about it for a second and then summoned the weapon into his hands, eying it apprehensively.


    ***


    Alex now sat on the odd, rectangular patch of flooring where the rug had once been. It was the only surface untouched by dust and grime and it stuck out like a poor tan-line, but he was thankful for it nonetheless as he took bottle after bottle out of his inventory and lined them out in front of him.


    Undeniably, he hadn¡¯t been prepared enough for where this Scenario would take him, but it wasn¡¯t as if he¡¯d made no preparations.


    Examine.


    [Whisky]


    100 Proof. 50% ABV


    Satisfied, he vanished it back to his inventory and began examining all the others, feeling too lazy to simply read the labels. It wasn¡¯t just whisky, but gin, rum, vodka and all other tastes his roommate had developed during his time as a bartender. And when Alex was done confirming they would all burn to fire, he returned them as well.


    Cameron, huh. I wonder how he¡¯s doing¡­


    No, actually, he decided he really didn¡¯t want to know.


    He crossed his legs and hunched himself over a cheap ramen-bowl with dainty floral decorations on the rim. Then he dumped a controlled portion of powder into it from his pouch.


    [Black-Scale Powder]


    A powder ground from a Black-frost Salamander¡¯s scales. It will evaporate into flammable vapor upon contact with fire, increasing its potency and duration.


    Considered safe for use up to 3 years after death.


    Alex didn¡¯t have to run examine on it this time to know that it¡¯s expiration date had long passed. It was dangerous to use, but it was still a fire enhancer, not a fire starter. He could raise a lighter to it and its fire would burn past its capacity very quickly, but it would still be confined to its origin.


    If he wanted something he could ignite though¡­


    [Crushed Charcoal]


    Alex reached into his inventory and undid a ziploc bag. He cut the icy blue powder with a coarse, shimmering black one that almost made it look like the mixture was living up to its ¡®Black-Scale¡¯ namesake. Then he stirred the ramen-bowl with chopsticks, feeling rather silly about the whole thing.


    Regardless, having even the most basic of household appliances in Nightmare was a luxury he was glad to have.


    Doubly so, as he summoned a pair of metal pliers he¡¯d dug up from his utility closet and got to working on the third and final ingredient. Charcoal and Black-Scale powder would create a fine fire on their own, but unfortunately the undead had legs and were scared enough of fire to know how to use them. So he needed something a bit more¡­explosive.


    He swallowed and let go of any sense of urgency, proceeding with tedious caution instead. The final powder he added had a black, peppery sort of consistency that blended with the two others as he stirred it in. He did his best to keep his grip on the pliers steady as he worked, his nerves motivating him.


    Every thirty seconds or so he added a sliver more of the new powder and tossed its container aside with a dull clink. And once he had enough¡ªsomething he deliberately measured out for all three ingredients¡ªhe stood up and moved onto the next phase.


    [36:29]


    A minute later, he stared down at his handiwork. He¡¯d spaced the powder mixture into small piles around the room, thinning it the farther it got from the door, and he¡¯d made sure to leave plenty of space between it and him. It was all a very deliberate and meticulous process. But while Alex knew his elements, his knowledge skewed more towards metallurgy rather than¡­ whatever this was, so he ran through his calculations one final time.


    He wanted something big, but not terrifyingly so. Fast, but not so fast that it spread to the nearby buildings. The closer they got to the plaza the more tightly packed they were and he¡¯d seen enough communities burnt down to know where that went.


    But he¡¯d taken that all into account beforehand.


    Someone wealthy had clearly lived here and this house was just a touch more isolated than the ones surrounding it. Plus, the river that cut through the town from the northern mountains was only a block from here. These undead weren¡¯t stupid, they¡¯d know what to do.


    ¡­alright looks good.


    With that, Alex summoned some alcohol and began pouring bottle after bottle onto the floor. It soaked into the wood between it all and wet some of the powder mixture, but that didn¡¯t concern him.


    As the last drop of whiskey emptied out, Alex felt none of the remorse he would¡¯ve actually felt in his twenties and he tossed the bottle aside. It clinked against discarded metal casings and he stepped back until he stood right next to the cellar¡¯s door. Latched, to avoid suspicion.


    Then much to his sword¡¯s annoyance, he summoned his other weapon.


    [37:08]


    As random as it could all seem, there was a method to the chaos that made up Nightmare; a purpose behind it all. It wasn¡¯t just destruction for its own sake, there was a detailed design underlying the Scenarios, a lesson to learn from each should you survive them. And Nightmare¡¯s Architects did their damndest in bending the System to make sure you survived them their way.


    The expired Black-Scale powder, the shitty blacksmith tools, weapons that were only rewarded after fighting your way through hell. These were all a means to an end of their desire. And in no way was what Alex was about to do in line with that vision.


    Yet they provided me with all the tools to do it.


    Alex lifted his Glock and shot his remaining clip into the roof of the building.


    The shots cracked like thunder against silent night, the impact jutted into his muscle as he kept his arm steady. More shells fell smoking to the ground besides the ones he¡¯d pried open, and he continued shooting until it was pointless to any longer. Because if a single soul in this Town didn¡¯t know where he was by that point then they¡¯d had to have been deaf before they died.


    He removed makeshift earplugs from his ears and only had to wait a few seconds before a thud came at the door.


    And only a couple seconds more and there was already a barrage of weapons tearing away at his poor barricade. They tore through it faster this time than they did back at the smithy and as the defense gave, Alex saw a Captain at their head.


    He had to restrain a smile as they filed into the living room, trying to surround him. They were cautious of him still, and he utilized the time that bought him as he waited for more to arrive. They practically crammed themselves through the doorway to get a piece of him.


    A Captain, four Adventurers¡­ a fifth, ten townsfolk¡­ twelve¡­fifteen¨C


    ¡°Enough!¡± Alex shouted. He snaked his sword out in shrill warning, and an undead who¡¯d been edging too close stumbled back in shock.


    The whole wave faltered at that, stopping any of their momentum at the door. Only the five Adventurers stayed where they stood, along with their captain. One of them was a mage.


    What type?


    Alex extended his senses until he felt the fire aspect that hummed in her mana. He struggled not to bark a laugh at what would happen if she used it.


    ¡°Enough?¡± the captain snarled, ¡°You don¡¯t order my¨C¡±


    He cut off there as he ate a bullet in the forehead.


    Alex pulled the trigger a few more times, but all he heard was blank clicks. He returned it to his inventory, not surprised that all the shot did was wedge a chunk of metal into his flesh covered forehead. That, and insult him further.


    Guns. The undead. Bad matchup.


    But he knew full well they weren¡¯t intended for them.


    ¡°You¡ª!¡±


    Alex stopped playing with his food and threw the damn torch at their feet.


    There was hardly time to capture the looks of surprise on their face before the alcohol caught flame and ignited the powder mixture.


    Black-scale powder, charcoal, gun-powder, and alcohol. Everything exploded at once, and where the undead once stood there was now a raging flash fire.


    Shit!


    Alex threw himself back behind a counter. Heat licked over its edge in an instant, a blaze of orange and red rising to swallow the room.


    It was bigger¡ªmuch bigger than he¡¯d intended.


    5 Undead Adventurers have been Slain!


    +500 Essence Crystals


    +15 Points


    Undead Captain Lysander has been Slain!


    +500 Essence Crystals


    +10 Points


    16 Undead Townsfolk have been Slain!


    +480 Essence Crystals


    +16 Points


    A flurry of notifications flashed across Alex¡¯s killfeed but he didn¡¯t shy his eyes from the scene.


    The flesh was the first to go.


    Whatever fat that had clung to their ragged bones. What little skin still patched their limbs in odd places. If the unholy creatures had any water content at all left on their person, that all evaporated with it.


    And then it was tougher pieces, the muscle and sinew holding their forms together. The flames burned through it all single-mindedly slowly, like a wick making its way through a candle. And once that happened they all simply collapsed into a pile of misshapen bones on the floor.


    The fire didn¡¯t stop there.


    New Achievement:


    [Hellfire]


    You have burned over 20 Undead Creatures to cinder with a single flame.


    +200 Essence Crystals


    Alex hardly processed the achievement, he was preoccupied trying to survive the fires that barreled overhead.


    The dust, he realized. It was the god-damned dust that was everywhere!


    Smoke billowed like storm clouds above him, and as countless years of built up dust went airborne, the flame traveled through it like electricity through water, grasping and reaching for him.


    He dove low, yanked open the cellar door, and didn¡¯t look back as he ran for the safety of the tunnels. He didn¡¯t look back even after he¡¯d entered them, knowing that the noise could draw what lay further down them.


    Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!


    His shoes tapped noisily and clumsily on the neatly chiseled stone and he had to use the decoratively carved walls as support to push himself forward. He was running on pure fumes and burning the last dredges of his stamina.


    The magnitude of those flames were the only thing keeping him going until he eventually found a forked path in the tunnels and followed it up.


    He resurfaced a street over and clambered onto the roof to get a better view.


    He hardly needed it, the smoke on the horizon was telling enough and by the time he saw it with his own eyes the fire had risen to consume both houses neighboring it. And it was only spreading from there, taking his precious hiding spots one by one as it moved towards the plaza.


    A skeletal man rushed in with a pail of water and Alex cursed himself for thinking they weren¡¯t stupid. Undead were never just one thing after all, but he had to hope not too many of them were this dumb.


    An undead Townsfolk has been Slain!


    +30 Essence


    +1 Point


    Points towards next reward: [79/100]


    He fell back on his ass onto the slanted roof and let himself just sit there, soaking it all in. The imagery of all the undead burning to melted cinders was still stuck in his mind, the texture slightly different from corpses freshly burned.


    It was certainly one for the memory books to say the least. He chuckled derangedly, slicking back his sweaty hair.


    They hadn¡¯t been cleansed, he suddenly thought. It was only once his heart reached a normal cadence that he noticed it saddened him.


    But it wasn¡¯t his sadness. And at the moment it wasn¡¯t important either.


    A decorated wooden box appeared on his outstretched palm and he smiled in relief. A thing born of pure exhaustion.


    Congratulations! You have reached the 50 Point Quota for your Third reward!


    [Potion Boxset - High Grade]


    3x Health Potion


    3x Stamina Potion


    3x Mana Potion


    It contained three sets of vials: blue, green, and red. Alex picked out a green vial and vanished the rest to his inventory. He held it up to the moonlight. It was see-through with a sickly, radiation-tinged look to it.


    And it tasted truer to appearance than Mountain-Dew did, but he still wasted no time downing it.


    Stamina has been restored to 100%


    He moved to wipe drool from the edge of his mouth and the motion was¡­ effortless.


    It hadn¡¯t occurred to him until now that such a small movement might require his effort, but ever since he¡¯d come back it¡¯d been like every step taxed him just the slightest bit of his will without him realizing it. Or as if his every thought burned through some miniscule amount of ram that was in limited supply.


    And now, that invisible price had been lifted.


    He grunted in satisfaction and then focused his mind on his enemies. Actually focused on it this time.


    He hadn¡¯t been subtle in his exhausted rush onto the roof, but it wasn¡¯t with displeasure that he noticed he¡¯d been spotted. Peering over the wall of rising flames he could see shifting silhouettes of countless undead gathering to the wreckage, staring at him. Over the crackle of fire he could hear their anger, the rage that enveloped their shouts and cries. And deep in his soul he could feel the bloodthirst of the horde that awaited him.


    Adventurers that had been drawn out from the Guild, the Captains that he had evaded for so long, the witless Townsfolk who had been foolishly tricked. Their eagerness oozed from them like the seething flame that ate at the Town alive at this moment.


    And in the depths of Alex¡¯s heart he hoped they could feel his own bloodthirst as well.


    Alex stood now and drew his sword, eagerness flashing through them both. Then he remembered the sadness he¡¯d felt from earlier.


    Don¡¯t worry, he told her, there¡¯s still plenty left to cleanse.


    He made that a promise.


    The undead had been dancing on the palm of his hand this night, but that didn¡¯t change the fact that he¡¯d been the one being hunted. Now that he¡¯d been restored to full strength, there was no reason not to show them the flipside of that arrangement.


    The fires flickered apart and for just a second he saw the world outside through their red tint.


    He saw too many undead for how few remained of his own. He saw visions of a night painted crimson with their rotten blood, as well as their numbers and the flow of their positions. And though they masked it well he could still see the fear in their souls as they looked upon his Undeath¡¯s Bane.


    Balance: 2,770 Essence Crystals. Would you like to Consume?


    Yes. Consume.


    You have leveled up!


    You have leveled up!


    +6 skill slots


    You have entered a Charged state.


    Progress towards Level 13: [20/2,000 EC]


    He grinned, then jumped from the roof and into the bloodshed.


    ***


    28 Undead Townsfolk have been slain!


    11 Undead Adventurers have been slain!


    An Undead Captain has been slain!


    +2,440 Essence


    +71 Points


    Once¡ªupon a time where no one would¡¯ve considered him weak¡ªAlex¡¯s home had not been in the shadows but on the battlefield.


    He¡¯d been at home, amongst the blood and guts and gore-slicked pavement, the grunts and shouts and cries of war¡ªof rage, of sorrow¡ªor of whatever else needed bleeding to keep your body moving like a well-oiled machine. Men became different men there, women different beasts, everyone deluged in what all emotions greased their gears so they didn¡¯t notice time¡¯s passing or the passing of their comrades. And for Alex, as he tore through his enemies, he¡¯d felt a feverish buzz in his bones, a burning fluidity in his movements, an electrifying crackle in his soul¡ªhe¡¯d felt excited.


    Not all the time, mind you.


    He knew those who did, people who didn¡¯t tuck that beast away during the intermissions between bloodshed, and he considered himself normal within the shadows they cast. For him it had to be a certain kind of fight to excite him; it had to be one he was winning.


    And as he arched his Shamshir blade through another scalp he lamented how long it had been since he had felt this way.


    Too long.


    A sword swung at him and he ducked below, snaking his own between a gap in the adventurer¡¯s armor.


    Undead didn¡¯t feel the same pain as the living but he screamed and clutched his shoulder as his arm severed loose. Then danger screamed at Alex from behind and he rolled forward, turning back only to kick the dismembered Adventurer into the path of another''s sword.


    It did no damage to him, even as the blade wedged itself into his skull. But now they were aligned in a straight shot, right in the path of his blade.


    [Pierce]


    2 Undead Adventurers have been Cleansed!


    +200 Essence Crystals


    +6 Points


    His sword skewered them with a cold ejaculatory shiver, absolving them of their undead sins and sending them to whatever afterlife they deserved. Or whatever afterlife even existed. Alex considered himself an outlier on the subject.


    He ripped his sword free and just stared at it for a second.


    He was no longer so scared of using the skill now that he had more mana potions to offset his sword¡¯s greed for the stuff, but he still couldn¡¯t control the mana flow half as well as he¡¯d hoped.


    Oslumnen metal was hyper mana-conductive, and he¡¯d thought he¡¯d known what he was doing when he¡¯d forged a whole sword from the stuff, but he really hadn¡¯t. No matter how much mana he ran through its trait it kept trying to grab more. And the more he invested, the harder his skills were to control---invest too much and it¡¯ll break even. He was certain now that if he¡¯d tried using [Energy Pierce] with this blade he¡¯d have blown his arm up before ever even completing the skill.


    But for now, it was something he could work with.


    Alex looked up to find himself fully encircled. It¡¯d been this way for almost a minute, after the path he¡¯d been taking had gotten blocked off by burning rubble and smoke. His reaction time and experience had allowed him to fend off and decoordinate his attackers thus far, but as he spotted archers and mages starting to take roost on the top floors of buildings he decided this had gone on long enough.


    Evidently, he was not the only one who¡¯d thought so. Turning, he lashed out at the sound of footsteps and his blade came away with a townsman¡¯s head balanced neatly on the end.


    He flung it at another of the undead, and the farmer raised his pitchfork on reflex, catching his gift on the spikes. Though, that just freed up his body for Alex to slice through. He gleefully did, then leapt behind the man and into the mayhem.


    Being encircled is a tough spot to be in, but funnily enough, once you find yourself inside the encirclement, it becomes a rather simple thing to break free of. You just have to barrel through all your obstacles faster than they lift their weapons. That¡¯s it. The frontline is the hardest to get past, but the guy in the second row back is never ready for the blade ripping out their gullet. And the guy behind him is even less prepared.


    The key is to never EVER stop. The moment your momentum stalls is the moment your death warrant is signed. That final blow could come from any of a million directions at point blank range and you¡¯d never know where.


    That said, there was no one here that could stop Alex, so it was a moot point.


    As soon as he¡¯d breached the sixth layer and reached the street''s edge, he kicked in the door to one of the houses. He¡¯d just been about to enter when he felt the pulse of mana and a killing intent aimed at his head.


    Dodge, block, slice, run---there were too many responses one could take to a magic projectile, and the correct one depended on what type of magic was being hurled. But Alex¡¯s senses weren¡¯t fast enough on the upkeep to determine that, so he just went with the safest of the options.


    He grabbed the wailing undead he¡¯d just cut the legs off of and hefted him up. Acid splashed against his face and body, melting him.


    Guess that was the right call.


    Deciding not to wait for another shot to come his way, Alex entered the flaming building and left the streets behind. And it was at that moment that he felt the electricity leave his veins and his Charged state ended.


    Essence has been integrated with the Dexterity Stat!


    Dexterity +4


    Essence has been integrated with the Perception Stat!


    Perception +1


    Alex grunted, his bonuses had come as no surprise. When you find yourself facing off many enemies at once, the most important thing is to be exacting and precise with your movements. You can¡¯t win a disadvantaged fight without taking risks, but even the slightest over-extension could give the enemy something to act on.


    And the second most important thing was to keep your senses trained on those enemies. All of them, at all times. His trait did the heavy lifting there, but it was still mentally taxing work, hence the uptick in Perception.


    But for now, Alex ignored his notifications and analyzed his situation.


    Everywhere he looked wood crackled and split in an orange blaze. The fire was thicker further in, but with each second it came uncomfortably close to where he stood. And yet, there was still a slight, flickering gap enroute to the back door where the flames separated. Just barely, so that a person might dance through unscathed if they were fast and deft enough.


    Alex glanced back at the door he had entered from.


    As he expected, nobody followed him in. After all, why risk it? Alex would either burn up in flames here or he would leave through that back door where he was certain there¡¯d just be more undead awaiting him.


    He didn¡¯t like that option. It had all the makings of a trap. This all did, really.


    Did I just stumble upon that blockade or was I led there?


    He thought about his actions leading up to the situation. He¡¯d been hunting from the shadows, employing hit and run tactics like he had been earlier, if not more aggressively this time.


    Now that he thought about it, there had been a few conveniences along his decided path. Not obvious ones of course---not even remotely. No bait dangling from the hook or any suspicious openings, but he could feel it now, a string subtly pulling him forward, silently wrapping itself around his neck.


    It¡¯d been three minutes since he¡¯d killed the last captain, but these undead were too co-ordinated to be acting without one. And this one was less boisterous than the others, more silent, conniving¡­ and dangerous.


    For the first time this night, it seemed Alex had been well and truly outmaneuvered.


    His eyes moved away from the door and glanced at the burning stair-case. He grimaced, knowing what he had to do. Then he summoned a thin sheet to wrap around his head, emptied a precious milk-bottle¡¯s worth of tap water over himself, and rushed up multiple floors.


    Heat scraped his sides, and one of the steps nearly collapsed under his boot, but he thankfully made it to the top in one piece. Or close enough. A section of his pants caught fire, singeing his thigh real bad and he had to waste more water putting it out.


    But he didn¡¯t waste time. As soon he was up, he leapt out the building and into [Stealth] as he heaved himself onto the roof from the window exit. It was no better up there and he¡¯d wisely used his unfavored hand to levy himself up, charring it in the process. But the next building was close enough and only starting to catch fire, so he made the jump and landed impossibly lightly on the landing.


    He crouched low and listened for sounds. Undead didn¡¯t breathe, but the twine of their bows still made a tight sound when pulled taut, their bony feet still scraped when they shuffled in place. Their clothes still rustled. Eventually he moved, breaking in through the third window over and silenced the lone adventurer without a sound.


    As he looked down, he noticed he¡¯d been right about the ambush awaiting him out there. And it¡¯d been a particularly nasty one too. But their eyes were all too trained on the back door to notice any shadows flitting between the third floor windows.


    Alex quickly looted the adventurer, tucking her core and all her other clothes and scraps into his inventory before creeping into the next room over and killing the pair stationed there.


    There¡¯d been four of them in the last room, but with them preoccupied and standing still it was all the same to him. The increase in his dexterity had made him all the more deadly and they went down without a sound.


    Stealth has leveled up!


    Stealth is now level 17!


    Progress towards Apprentice rank: 85%


    7 Undead Adventurers have been Cleansed!


    +700 Essence Crystals


    +21 Points


    Alex ignored the point tally.


    The final prize had been a free skill up to 20,000 EC in value and he¡¯d reached that 100 point threshold a few minutes past when he¡¯d gotten encircled. But he already knew which skill he wanted and he wouldn¡¯t have enough free skill slots for it until after his class-equip at level fifteen, so it would do him no good here.


    Still, even without killing the boss, it was seeming like he wouldn¡¯t have much trouble reaching class-equip tonight.


    At least, if I can snuff this threat out first.


    Alex calmed the shake in his burnt hand and sighed. A whole lot had just happened but it¡¯d been less than a minute since he¡¯d escaped his encirclement and everything depended on decisive action and urgency right now. He got to work quickly.


    One of the Adventurers he¡¯d just killed had been an archer, and as he grabbed one of his arrows, he tore some cloth from the sheet he¡¯d wrapped around himself, winding it tight and thick around the arrowhead¡¯s base. Then he doused it in canola oil from his inventory and nocked it on the bow, steadying his aim, and waited. No, watched.


    This captain loves their anonymity, but if I were orchestrating an ambush I¡¯d want to be able to see all my pieces.


    Alex lurked in the room¡¯s shadows as he looked across the street and searched past the windows. There were six buildings with adequate viewing angles of the one that burned, thirteen windows, seventeen identifiable figures.


    It¡¯s been over a minute now since the rat had entered its entrapment. I¡¯d start getting suspicious right about now. Has it decided to just die there? After how hard it worked to escape?


    Unlikely.


    The fire was encroaching on Alex¡¯s position now and he only had to reach over and tap the arrowhead against the wall to light it. He watched those seventeen figures. Their eyeless sockets didn¡¯t shift or give away their intent, but human undead were dull to their sense of touch and weren¡¯t as physically aware of all their reactions. Even well trained ones betrayed hints of intent---in the slightest tilt of their head, in the odd sway of their shoulders.


    Then if the rat isn¡¯t dead, only one question remains. Where did it go?


    One of the undead mages had been looking down at the ambush grounds like all the others until she suddenly tilted her head up, as if searching the top floor for something hidden in the blaze. Then the roof. Then her sockets traveled sideways.


    Alex was a rusty shot but when her gaze landed on him, his arrow hit true and the mage caught fire.


    Undead Captain Alexandria has been Slain!


    +500 Essence


    +10 Points


    That was so much more trouble than it was worth, Alex thought. And once again, he¡¯d been forced to use a weapon other than his sword, and he knew that he was getting dangerously close to the cut off for his [Blacksmith-Warrior] class requirements.


    Curse my fate.


    Smoke was starting to fill the room, so Alex quickly rewrapped his head in cloth. He¡¯d been just about to make an escape when an ear splitting scream echoed through the town.


    No, not a scream.


    It was [Howl].


    The skill held all the nuance Alex suspected Jun had been capable of when he¡¯d first heard it, but this time it was so much more. And there was something deeper there that shook his soul to his very core.


    With a shiver, he realized his wildest suspicions about the man may have been true. He wasn¡¯t just talented, not by a long shot. No, he was something completely different.


    And if Alex wasn¡¯t alone, maybe he could--


    He quickly cut that thought loose, stamping out his hope with cold practicality. Along with the fire that caught on the sole of his boot once he¡¯d finally decided to escape the place. He stamped that out as well.


    Then he entered [Stealth] and went into hiding in a nearby house¡¯s attic before the undead gathered any semblance of organization.


    Alex had felt the power behind that [Howl], just as everyone in town had, and he knew which direction it had come from as well. The Guild Hall, where the Boss was stationed. If Jun wasn¡¯t already dead, then he probably would be soon.


    No, I can''t say that for certain.


    Alex wasn¡¯t certain if that was his practicality speaking or if hope had somehow seeped back into his thoughts, but if there were still survivors there somehow---if he still had other cards to play, then maybe taking down the Boss wasn¡¯t out of the question after all.


    That, he knew, was definitely wishful thinking. But he also knew just how impactful taking down this boss would be towards achieving his goals. The rewards for beating the Scenarios were no joke, and the second Scenario was where the gap between the weak and the already strong began to widen even more.


    Well, it wouldn¡¯t be hard just to take a quick look.


    Alex only had to look at the number of his pursuers to know that the chaos he¡¯d caused had drawn most of the Adventurers away from the Guild. He could set up some quick distractions, draw them further away, along with the townsfolk. And then that just left the ten of them that refused to leave their positions at the door.


    ¡®Just¡¯ the ten huh¡­


    Alex looked at his blade grumbling curses under his breath.


    Soul Link has been damaged. HP cannot be restored past 85%


    After the burns and cuts Alex had sustained over the last several minutes, his own health had fallen to 82%. And that missing health wasn¡¯t something he would be getting back, not tonight at least.


    And facing ten adventurers in a straight fight is a different matter from my ambushes. No doubt they have a Captain amongst their rank too.


    The power high from being back to normal levels of healthiness was definitely getting to his head.


    Hmm¡­ then what other cards did he have to play?


    Alex pondered it for a second then stood up, dusting his clothes off. He looked casually through his list of notifications then dismissed them for later purview.


    Cards this, cards that¡­


    Well, he still had a few up his own sleeve, but it seemed he¡¯d have to head there in person to get the full picture. By the very nature of this scenario, he simply didn¡¯t remember a whole lot from his time here.


    But it wasn¡¯t arrogance that drove him to the Guild Hall. Sure, it would be safer to spend the night picking off the weaker undead, but if taking down the boss was at all possible¡­


    Then it¡¯d be a shame not to gamble on the biggest pot, wouldn¡¯t it?


    Alex spent a few minutes buying himself time with lower-level undead, then undid his stealth as he approached the Guild¡¯s entrance, not bothering to hide his presence from the Adventurers on guard there.


    He¡¯d deliberated on the matter some more and had decided he needed to set hard limits on this fight. If his Soul Link with his blade or his own HP dipped past 70%, then he would abandon the fight and continue what he was doing. And even then, there were other risks to what he''d be doing.


    Alex hadn¡¯t gambled this way in many years¡ªhadn¡¯t dared¡ªbut if it truly was his turn to roll¡­


    Well it seems he¡¯d been playing cards when the situation called for a simple toss of dice.


    ***


    How¡­ am I still alive?


    Jun opened his eyes to a damp, dim-lighted sight. Blood lined the walls of the Guild Hall, the flooring was littered with scattered cups and plateware. Tables and chairs were flipped every which way, and when he tried to move, his wrists yanked on tough rope that had been strung to the information desk. And strangest of all, further underground, down in those catacomb tunnels, he heard a chant. Almost ritualistic, like¡­ singing?


    He yanked again, testing his binds.


    ¡°Well, guess who¡¯s looking lively?¡±


    The guildmaster walked in. Unlike the others he was a pure skeleton. His sword was large and sheathed on his back and now that his flesh had melted away, his bones seemed almost thicker and more intimidating on his huge frame.


    His voice was just as smooth, just as charismatic as it had been during his speech, but now there was an edge to it that wasn¡¯t there before.


    Why hasn¡¯t he killed me?


    Almost as if the undead had read his mind he knelt down in front of Jun, and tilted his chin up with bony fingers until he was looking directly into those empty sockets. Only they weren¡¯t empty, there was something there.


    ¡°Young man¡­I would like to offer you a choice.¡±

 11 — Humanity

    The intercom crackled to life overhead and Jun¡¯s cabin light winked on.


    ¡°Hey, folks! This is your captain speaking. It¡¯s Eleven-fifty-five, Seattle local time, and it looks like we¡¯re in for a midnight landing tonight! We will be descending now, so please keep your seatbelts strapped in, tuck your tray into the seat in front of yours, and¡ªoh, please put your devices back on airplane mode if you haven¡¯t already. Thank you for traveling with American Airlines, we will be arriving shortly.¡±


    The intercom clicked off and groggy voices whispered to each other all across the dim-lit cabin. The old lady next to him, Mary, with three kids and eight grandchildren (the youngest of which being Johny who wanted to be a firefighter and the oldest of which being Gerrick who was studying medicine in grad-school) stirred from beneath her blanket, wiped sleep from her eyes, and reached into her bag, putting on her glasses.


    ¡°Make sure you give your mother a great big hug when you land, Jun. She¡¯s blessed to have a son like you to look after her.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± he said, ¡°I¡¯m sure I will.¡±


    Jun wasn¡¯t certain how well he hid his pained expression, but Mary¡¯s eyesight had been failing ever since she¡¯d turned eighty and she was a fair penny away from getting necessary treatment. It would be difficult for her to see him clearly in this lighting.


    ¡°Oh, and buy her a pot of Perennial flowers will you? There¡¯s no better way to greet someone who¡¯s sick than with a pot of flowers,¡± she gave a jolly laugh, then recounted how her sons had brought some from her own gardens when she¡¯d fallen ill. Then she recounted Phil''s gardening passion and his fascination with bonsai. Then she recounted more.


    Mary was a lovely woman, with a nice family and friendly attitude, but Jun found it hard to listen as they closed in on Seattle. His mind went to his neatly folded Red-Cross jacket in his overhead luggage, and his own family. It''d been a week since he¡¯d received the call.


    ¡°Jun, Mother has fallen sick since you left her and it¡¯s only gotten worse, she¡­she might not have long left. You need to come back.¡±


    He shifted his glasses and pinched his eyes at the memory. Then, as soon as it was polite to do so, opened his phone to move it back to airplane mode.


    ¡°Oh¡ªis that your mother? Why gosh, she¡¯s so pretty! You didn¡¯t tell me she was this pretty, Jun!¡±


    She was prettier before, Jun thought.


    ¡°Ah, yeah. She¡¯s a beautician, so she looks after herself.¡±


    I didn¡¯t tell you because I was the one who did this to her.


    In the Instagram post his mother was posing with a famous model, another client she¡¯d brought him long ago. The sun was out and their dispositions were bright as they drank martinis on a beach he didn¡¯t recognize. It was dated two days ago, just a day after his latest mission had ended and he¡¯d been granted leave.


    He moved his phone to airplane mode and closed the page out. He¡¯d been naive, but forging medical documents was a new low he hadn¡¯t expected from her, or his sister, who had to have been the one to actually do it. Still, he should¡¯ve known.


    I could still be out there, helping people who need it.


    But he wasn¡¯t. And at that moment, Jun had the thought that he¡¯d rather be anywhere than here.


    An odd shiver touched his soul then. Like the one he felt when patients died, but grander. They hit an air pocket and turbulence shook the plane just slightly. Murmuring picked up across the cabin as people leaned over each other to take a look out the windows. Jun was in the aisle seat so he didn¡¯t try to get one himself.


    ¡°Jun,¡± Mary turned to him, her face pale, hyperventilating. She pointed out her window, up at something he couldn¡¯t see, ¡°I-I¡¯ve never seen anything like this, it¡¯s¨C¡±


    She never got to finish her sentence as the entire world froze.


    [Integration of Universe 39F72, Integration 192 has begun. Please await further instructions as assessment completes]


    [Welcome to the Multiverse]


    ***


    5 Minutes Before Scenario Two


    ¡°Dammit,¡± a voice said, ¡°Tonight is what we¡¯ve been waiting for! Why are we the ones on guard duty? They¡¯re bodies for fucks sake, they don¡¯t need guards!¡±


    ¡°I know, Storth,¡± another said, ¡°But suck it up. A few hours from now, and the inconvenience of it won¡¯t bother you.¡±


    ¡°You got a point, but¡­¡±


    Jun kept quiet and still as the two voices tapered off, not risking any notice to roll his face out from the shallow puddle or to push away the barefoot kicking against his nose. They¡¯d been piled on and brought here by wagon once everyone fell asleep, and had been haphazardly dumped onto the floor with just as little care. The clink of a key turning in its lock told him all he needed to know of their arrangement and he didn¡¯t open his eyes until those voices couldn¡¯t be heard.


    Then his eyes snapped wide open.


    ¡°Hey!¡± he hissed.


    He grabbed the body next to him---the young girl from earlier, he realized. She wasn¡¯t wearing any boots for some reason and her complexion was inhumanely pale. He almost panicked when he noticed a ghastly scar on her chest, but it was old, and had long healed over.


    ¡°Get up!¡± he whispered, ¡°We¡¯ve gotta get out of--¡±


    It was no use, she wasn¡¯t responding to verbal stimuli.


    A gentle shake didn¡¯t do either, so she had to be unconscious. She was alive ¨C he could tell that even without the pulse check ¨C but in a vegetative state. He checked her pulse anyways, then applied pressure to her nail beds, eye ridges, and temporomandibular joints.


    She still didn¡¯t stir, so he tried something¡­ outside of his ordinary routine.


    Inspect.


    Status Effects - Death Mark


    [2:39]


    Death Mark?


    Jun¡¯s mind raced. Now that he thought of it he could feel an unnatural murkiness hanging over her. And there was that strange timer ticking next to her head as well.


    Desperately, he gave her another shake.


    ¡°You can stop trying,¡± a new voice said, startling him, ¡°None of these ones are waking up either.¡±


    ¡°They¡­ aren¡¯t?¡±


    ¡°No. I think they¡¯re jus--¡±


    The man snapped quiet and Jun threw himself back onto the ground. His relief that he wasn¡¯t alone immediately turned to horror as a pair of footsteps echoed in approach.


    ¡°Heard a voice you said?¡±


    ¡°Not sure. Things echo a lot down here, could¡¯ve been anything.¡±


    The first voice gave a mocking laugh and Jun heard a jingle and then a single clank against what must¡¯ve been their jail bars. His eyes snapped wide in that instant and he locked gazes with the other man. It was dark, but he knew in that instant that they¡¯d had the same thought.


    ¡°Could¡¯ve been anything you say?¡± Through squinted eyes, Jun saw one of the guards grab his sword by the scabbard and prod the body next to him, ¡°See? Out cold. Relax, it¡¯s not like you to jump at every little thing.¡±


    He couldn''t hear the other¡¯s response over the beating thump in his chest. The man a few bodies away was pointing emphatically at him now. It could only have one interpretation.


    It has to be me. I have to do it.


    ¡°Calm down now,¡± the guard said, ¡°I was only jo-- urk!¡±


    In a maddened rush, Jun scrambled to his feet and hooked his arm around the guard¡¯s neck. He squeezed on the artery, still a little unsure of himself.


    ¡°Knew we had rats! You¨C¡°


    ¡°Stop!¡± Jun shouted. ¡°You move that sword even an inch and I crush his windpipe!¡±


    It was a bluff. Jun saved lives, he didn¡¯t take them.


    Which was why it unnerved him all the more, the way both the guards chuckled darkly then. The other man had started unfastening the keys around the guard¡¯s waist and Jun felt him stiffen too as a notification flitted in and out of view. Jun tightened his strangle almost reflexively, but¡­ something felt off.


    Weird¡­ the man¡¯s neck was now unnaturally skinny, and¨Cand pointy? Almost like¡­


    It snapped. Then twisted of its own accord. 180¡ã until they were face to face, only-- only the other man¡¯s face held no flesh. Jun shrieked as it leered at him. The skull tried to bite him and he leapt back. Its hand¡ªits bony hand¡ªreached to unfasten his dagger and--


    ¡°Shit!¡±


    Jun¡¯s new friend barely had time to yell out before the guard swung a knife down at his head.


    It¡¯d only been an inch away from skewering him, too before Jun had unleashed a beastly [Howl].


    Status Effect: [Stun]


    Two mobs have been affected


    ¡°What the fu¡ªthey¡¯re undead?!¡±


    The man scrambled to his feet, finally unhooking the ring of keys. He snatched the dagger from the skeleton''s frozen hand, turning it around.


    No, not him! Jun wanted to yell, The farther one!


    Sweat ran down his forehead. He hadn¡¯t ever needed to keep [Howl] activated for a prolonged period of time before. His vocal chords burned and his grip loosened on the farther undead by the second, as if he were holding onto a fraying rope. On some level he recognized it was due to the distance.


    The farther one! His mind urged Prioritize him! Get--


    ¡°The farther one¡­?¡±


    His companion frowned, then quickly worked the cell doors open and escaped.


    Kill assisted! An Undead Adventurer slain!


    +50 Essence


    +1 point


    [Howl]¡¯s burden suddenly lightened and Jun touched his throat in shock when he realized he¡¯d stopped shouting. He did another double take when he realized he¡¯d just moved his arm to check while the skill was still in action.


    ¡°The Cores!¡± the other man shouted, ¡°You have to go for the Cores on these ones!¡±


    Cores?


    Jun saw the black sphere in the center of the¡­ ''undeads¡¯ rib cage. Energy swirled there-- not Essence, but strangely alluring to him all the same. The guard was twitching under his hold, straining for his sword but Jun only had one target this time. Effortlessly, he squeezed down further-- as if choking him with his will-- and then reached into his inventory to find his sword.


    He¡­ just held it there.


    ¡°What, getting nervous now?¡± The other man asked. ¡°Fine, if you don¡¯t want the Essence¨C¡±


    A blue light emanated from behind them, back in the cell. They both stopped what they were doing to check. Strange, glowing tattoos spread their markings around everyone''s flesh, and they began to levitate before suddenly, they all disappeared.


    Distressed, Jun pulled up the notification that had flashed by earlier and his concern only deepened.


    [Mandatory Scenario has been triggered]


    [SCENARIO 2 ¡ª Night of the Undead]


    This wicked Town has sold their souls for unfathomable power, and now they will feast upon yours!


    Escape the sacrificial ritual! The High Council enlists your help in putting this great evil to rest once and for all!


    Clear Conditions:


    Survive until sunrise


    Good luck!


    He glanced back at the guard still wriggling under his hold. Jun had been suspicious after Alex¡¯s warning. He¡¯d expected something but an ¡®undead¡¯... this man had been talking to them, laughing with them just a little earlier. He''d been trying to get that girl to stop eating and¡­


    That girl.


    Jun closed his eyes, she¡¯d been among the ones who¡¯d just disappeared. He¡¯d kept trying to subtly warn her, but she¡¯d drunk the water down all in one gulp. It wasn¡¯t like she was the nicest person around but a teenager? In a place like this?


    ¡°For real, I¡¯m not being demeaning. If it¡¯s your first time killing a man I can do it for you.¡±


    The other man, a well built dude with short cropped hair and brown skin, stepped up with his dagger in hand.


    ¡°Wait.¡± Jun said before he finished his blow.


    ¡°What? You can¡¯t seriously think this guy¡¯s still human.¡±


    Jun took a steady breath, then closed his eyes again. The cell behind him wasn¡¯t empty, not completely, and somehow he didn¡¯t have to turn to know. In the same way as how he¡¯d used to know when he¡¯d had a bad one before they even wheeled them through the tent¡¯s flaps.


    They weren¡¯t alone. He felt comfort in that, confidence in what he was about to do.


    ¡°No.¡± he said. ¡°I don¡¯t. But there¡¯s something I want to try first.¡±


    ***


    Jun and Ishaan stepped back from the wall, admiring their handiwork.


    ¡°Are you¡­¡± Ishaan asked between breaths, ¡°...sure this¡­ is a good idea?¡±


    Jun took a moment to recover before his response, ¡°I¡­ no. But what other choice do we have?¡±


    They straightened themselves, staring at their masterpiece in bewilderment and¡­ perhaps disbelief at what they¡¯d just done. Jun understood these things were out to kill them-- that they had to defend themselves however they could. But this? This just made him feel weird.


    This was your idea, he reminded himself.


    His hold on the undead wouldn¡¯t have lasted much longer, but rather than killing it, they¡¯d instead severed the thing¡¯s limbs and used some spare chains to bind it. Four¡ªone for each limb, then a fifth for the head, which they used to gag it as well.


    There was no practical reason for that last touch. Jun was rather certain that between his [Howl] and all the expletives the undead had thrown at them during it all, that if anyone could hear them down here they already would¡¯ve.


    For how little muscle the undead had, moving it had proven more difficult than he¡¯d expected. The whole time its limbs had thrashed around, clawing and scratching and by the time they¡¯d finished they were so exhausted they¡¯d settled to just throw its torso in a separate cell and locked it up¡ªwhere even as they spoke, it continued crashing itself at the bars.


    This was stupid. I don¡¯t even know what I was thinking.


    But how else were you supposed to detain something that could reattach its limbs at will?


    It was hard not to see the value in questioning it, and Ishaan had agreed, but for the moment Jun was so sickened he didn¡¯t want to be near the thing. He wasn¡¯t squeamish, but he was used to at least wearing gloves when he touched raw flesh.


    A shared glance with Ishaan told Jun he was equally happy to put it off. Even if their time wasn¡¯t unlimited.


    [Warning]


    All those in the underground rooms by the countdown¡¯s end will be killed alongside the sacrificed.


    They headed back to their cell to join the others who¡¯d been faking their unconsciousness.


    ¡°I¡¯m telling you, a fool¡¯s errand,¡± Maria said.


    Maria was an older woman and she shook her head disapprovingly as they entered. The man next to her, Juan, simply grunted. But if the way he¡¯d looked away the whole time was any indicator, his obstinance to help hadn¡¯t just been from a place of disagreement. Jun couldn¡¯t say he blamed him.


    As they sped through proper introductions he began to realize that a striking number of the people he¡¯d encountered had all come from roughly the same geographical region.


    He glanced a look to the side of the cell where the fifth and last of them still lay slumped.


    One of them wasn¡¯t taken?


    As he got closer, Jun realized that wasn¡¯t the case. The last woman¡¯s name was Jolyn, which he knew since he¡¯d shared a table with her earlier. It wasn¡¯t just the teenager he¡¯d tried dropping cryptic hints to. No one had picked them up all the same, but it¡¯d been hard not to note that this woman had more of a taste for alcohol than water.


    He rolled the somewhat chubby woman onto her side and she coughed, stirring languidly. Then cried a little in her sleep.


    Not unconscious. Just drunk.


    Slowly, he eased her awake. And she began to cry some more when she remembered where she was.


    Jun felt a pang in his chest. He felt for her, felt all of them. They were all separated from their loved ones, they were all alone. And when he thought about what everyone in his life must¡¯ve been going through¡­ coworkers, his friends, even his family. And Mary, that sweet old woman, her especially.


    I don¡¯t want to know if that plane landed safely or not.


    He didn¡¯t, and yet his worries had only compounded. They¡¯d been all he¡¯d thought about last night, but they couldn¡¯t be now. He had to focus on the question, the one everyone in the cell had on their minds, what now?


    ¡°We can¡¯t stay here,¡± Ishaan pointed out.


    It was probably the obvious thing to say, but it was met with awkward silence. People like Alex and Ishaan-- that young girl even-- they weren''t normal. Most people weren¡¯t capable of shoving their feelings aside and trudging on, not without being put in direct danger. Even Jun, who¡¯d trained not to shy from blood, was struggling to keep himself afloat now.


    He didn¡¯t know what background Ishaan had, but the rest of them? They were in no condition to survive. Maria was shifty eyed and distracted. And Juan, though he looked strong as a bull, was tense as he paced about the room. Still, they were calm enough and seemed in control of themselves at least.


    ¡°We need a real plan,¡± Jun eventually said.


    Maria shook her head at that, ¡°A plan? Christ son, there were dozens of them up there, what good will a plan do?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s just being defeatist!¡± Juan suddenly yelled. He flushed. ¡°Or at least¡­it¡¯s not like we can go on without one¡­¡±


    Jun ran Inspect on the two of them and found that they were both level five.


    He didn¡¯t know what level they¡¯d been before all this-- Jun himself had been level four --but that seemed to be where simply surviving the first scenario got people if they refined all of the rewarded essence. Jolyn was a little lower and Ishaan was slightly higher at six, but Jun was still the highest level here at level seven.


    Even if most of that is vitality¡­


    Jun turned his attention outwards. Maria had started going off on Juan for yelling at her, but Ishaan ignored the outburst, shooting Jun a pointed look, ¡°And do you think we have time for that?¡±


    It seemed like he was genuinely asking.


    ¡°I¡¯m¡­ yes, I¡¯m certain,¡± Jun answered. ¡°That warning we were given said there¡¯d be a penalty for staying here right? That implies that there¡¯s no immediate threats that would prevent us from doing so.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s just guesswork,¡± Maria rattled. Although her eyes skitted nervously, Jun noticed she kept her wooden bow nocked, her grip surprisingly steady.


    ¡°It¡¯s not,¡± he said, ¡°Think about it, this place emulates a game. It¡¯s obviously not the same, but the System has shown it still plays by certain rules. There has to be some logical way to win, right?¡±


    ¡°Eric¡­¡± a voice sobbed, ¡°If Eric was here¡­ he could protect¡­ someone, please, just¡­ he could¡¯ve¡­¡±


    No one else addressed the woman as she rolled onto her side, sobbing some more. Jun took a second to crouch down, patiently patting her back and trying fruitlessly to get her to puke. He would have to talk to her some more before she let him trigger her gag reflex.


    ¡°Really?¡± Maria asked, ¡°Is everyone else just buying this crap?¡±


    ¡°No¡­ it makes sense,¡± Ishaan said, tapping his lip, ¡°Otherwise none of us would be standing here right? They would¡¯ve just slaughtered us if there weren¡¯t restrictions of some sort¡­like the amount of turns we took when they were wheeling us from the guild, it¡¯s gotta be a maze down here. They can¡¯t have every inch of it covered¡­¡±


    Jun nodded in agreement as Ishaan started guessing at what exactly those restrictions might be. Juan gradually got less exasperated as time went on and even Maria seemed to grow more compliant.


    Good, they''re starting to think critically.


    If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    It was good, and yet, why did his stomach feel so hollow? If they did this right, they might make it out right? But then, what about the others? What about that young girl¨C


    ¡°Then¡­if all this is true,¡± Juan¡¯s voice had a determined tremor to it now, ¡°What should I do? What can I do to see my family again?¡±


    The mood had changed once they started speaking in actions. The group fell silent at the mention of family, but Ishaan was the one who finally answered.


    ¡°There¡¯s only one thing to do,¡± he said, ¡°I say we team up, and everyone who is able gets out of here together.¡±


    Jun realized what he meant by that immediately. He looked at Jolyn, whimpering against the floor. An anger began to rise up, but he forced it down. Because the man wasn¡¯t wrong. The woman was, logistically speaking, a deadweight. She lowered their odds of surviving.


    But then he remembered that woman. He didn¡¯t even know her name, just heard her pleas as she tripped and fell in those dark woods behind him. He¡¯d thought at the time that he should turn around and use his skill, but he hadn¡¯t. He hadn¡¯t.


    Jun flinched as he saw how tight his grip got on Jolyn¡¯s arm¡­ though she was too drunk to notice. He took a quiet breath.


    Okay, let¡¯s calm down. Nothing gets solved from outbursts.


    He¡¯d been distantly paying attention as the others began exchanging skills and strategies, catching the occasional nervous glance from Ishaan as he continued nursing Jolyn back to health. She finally managed to puke and seemed to be returning to lucidity now. ¡°...please¡­¡± she croaked. Nothing else, just please.


    I¡¯m not like him.


    ¡°So Jun. What are your skills?¡± Ishaan asked cautiously.


    The man still had his UI still set to visible. And rather than answering, Jun simply commanded his System open and sent them all his profile. He¡¯d found that function when he¡¯d been toying with it earlier. It had bugged him how Alex had seemed to know what he was doing.


    ¡°What¡ªfour skills? How did you get so many!¡± Juan exclaimed.


    Even Ishaan looked briefly unsettled for a moment before his face settled. Jun didn¡¯t think he was a bad man, but it was clear the man saw him as a threat to his control over the others. He wasn¡¯t always the best at navigating these kinds of situations, but it seemed he had little choice if he wanted any ownership at all over his actions.


    ¡°I agree with Ishaan,¡± Jun said. ¡°We should act sooner rather than later, and we¡¯ll have better odds as a group. But we¡¯re still woefully uninformed, aren¡¯t we?¡±


    The man narrowed his eyes as Jun entered the cell opposite to them. The undead had gone quiet after the first few moments of muffled expletives. That all changed when Jun undid his gag.


    ¡°If you cocksuckers think you can torture me, then you¡¯re dumber than I thought! I¡¯m not afraid of death, I¡¯m an undead, and I don¡¯t feel pain you¨C¡±


    Jun drowned him out, deep in thought.


    He had four skills, the one he¡¯d bought from the catalog, [Taunt], [Howl], and one more that he¡¯d picked up in desperation as the Metal Knight¡¯s sword was at his throat.


    Five actually, he amended. He had one more in his library, one that he had no intention of learning.


    But when the Metal Knight had rushed at him the night before, he¡¯d sensed it instinctively. Somehow he¡¯d just known that Alex¡¯s explanation had been simplified. There wasn¡¯t some vague force underneath skills that you shaped one way or another, it was more complex than that. Skills were patterns of Essence, woven into the very fabric of his being. And when he altered those patterns even slightly it became abundantly obvious there were infinitely more ways to manipulate them than just push and pull.


    It wasn¡¯t that skill he¡¯d saved himself with that he called on now, but instead the one he¡¯d used to heal himself afterwards. He¡¯d been wondering what exactly he should do with it, and now there was a clear answer.


    This thing isn¡¯t human.


    Jun extended his hand out, flowing mana through the Skill¡¯s patterns. He changed the skill¡¯s pattern in only tiny, rudimentary ways, loosening its form, and then shifted the flow of his mana and let that do the rest of the work. By the second try, he¡¯d gotten the hang of it. Essence made up the skill¡¯s fabric, its DNA, but adjusted to the flow of Mana like curtains adjusted to the breeze.


    ¡°Wait¡­no! What are you doing!?¡± The skeleton yelled.


    Tiny fragments of bone started attaching back to the chained up, roughly splintered part of its arm. To its leg as well, which lay nearby.


    ¡°Are you crazy?!¡± Ishaan yelled, ¡°You¡¯re healing him¨C¡±


    [Bone Mend]


    The undead shrieked as his right arm healed and connected to his left foot. Both appendages seemed to twitch and squirm in different directions and for the first time, the creature seemed to be truly terrified.


    Achievement Unlocked! You have mutilated a monster beyond recognition and without the sweet mercy of death.


    You have gained an attribute!


    [Joyous Cruelty]


    Mutilation of defeated enemies causes 35% more pain and discomfort


    Jun flinched at the description. The bodily horror made him want to gag, but he pushed that feeling down and leaned close.


    ¡°I¡­look, maybe you aren¡¯t afraid of death. But you still see through those eyes of yours right? You still hear through your ears? If you don¡¯t want me to weld those shut and just leave you down here, then you¡¯re going to answer all my questions honestly.¡±


    The undead nodded vigorously and Jun felt tension leave his body. But only a little. This next part was harder, because it concerned humans.


    People weren¡¯t perfect creatures by any means, he knew that, but nobody was born standing on their own two feet. He¡¯d seen the kind of horrors people were capable of when they were impoverished and divided, but he¡¯d also seen the positives too. The amount of good people were capable of when they came together as a community. If they were going to make it out of here, they¡¯d do it together. And he meant together.


    So here goes the hard part.


    ¡°Tell us,¡± he said, ¡°Where are you keeping the others? How do we lift this Death Mark?¡±


    The undead almost seemed to hesitate for a second. then it spoke. It spoke, then it laughed. Its cackles spilled out into the world as if to make mockery of the attempt, vibrating his very bones.


    When he was done, Jun kept his end of the promise. And he felt a trace of life wink out, just the same as it did with any patient he couldn¡¯t save. These things¡­ weren¡¯t human, but there was no doubt in his mind that he¡¯d just taken a life.


    An undead Adventurer has been slain!


    +100 Essence


    +3 Points


    [Map of Chambers] has been attained!


    Hidden Quest has been triggered!


    [Lionheart¡¯s Madness]


    Guild Master Lionheart has slept the living, imbuing them with the Death Mark! Only he can complete the ritual and it falls on you to foil his evil machinations!


    Clear Conditions:


    Disrupt the Sacrificial Ritual. The mark will only disappear upon Guild Master Lionheart¡¯s death, or if the Ritual¡¯s formation is destroyed.


    Rewards: 5,000 Essence Crystals


    Time to Ritual - [31:42]


    [ACCEPT? Y/N]


    Jun read through the quest information before looking back at his companions. Though they were silent, he could feel their judging gazes on his back.


    ¡°Just¡­to be clear,¡± he said, ¡°I¡¯m not going to force you guys to accept this quest, but I intend to go alone if it comes down to it.¡±


    ¡°Alone? How¨C¡±


    ¡°Juan, you said your family¡¯s still alive right?¡± Jun asked.


    The man looked nervously taken aback at that.


    ¡°I can¡¯t be so certain of mine,¡± Jun continued. ¡°I¡¯d like to think there¡¯s someone waiting for me at home. But right now, all we have is each other. And a couple dozen of us are just about to be murdered if we stand by doing nothing. Maria, any one of them could be your grandchildren¡¯s age¨C¡±


    Jun shut his mouth, blushing at his faux pas. But if the old woman cared, she didn¡¯t show it. Both her and Juan looked lost in their own thoughts for a second; they were nervous, but neither one of them woke up yesterday wanting to see people die.


    ¡°This is just speculation, but I think the scenario¡¯s aren¡¯t as mindless as they seem. I don¡¯t know how all of yours went, but mine felt like it might¡¯ve been clearable if we had all worked together. I want to correct that this time. Because¡­¡±


    Because what¡¯s the point in living if you¡¯re repulsed with who you¡¯ve become?


    There was no need to spell it out. Jun didn¡¯t want to live in a world without humanity and compassion. And from the looks on their faces, neither did they. Those virtues had carried mankind through the ages, and they weren¡¯t something that could be torn down so quickly.


    Ishaan though¡­


    ¡°Five-thousand Essence Crystals¡­¡±


    The man muttered something under his breath that Jun couldn¡¯t quite make out. His eyes glazed over slightly and Jun felt a slight chill, but the look quickly vanished. Surprisingly he was the first to speak in his favor.


    ¡°Hmm, it¡¯s not out of the question. Have you guys seen this map yet?¡±


    [Map of Chambers]


    A map of the catacombs that lie below Starter Town. Would you like to download into your UI?


    Jun selected ¡®yes¡¯ and a three dimensional mini-map appeared in his field of vision, almost holographic. There were countless twisting routes that were obscured by a dark fog, but visible to them were routes to two locations: The Sacrifice Grounds and the Guild Hall. The first was covered by red dots¡­ the system¡¯s code for enemies presumably, but the Guild Hall only had one.


    The boss¡­


    Jun almost would¡¯ve laughed at the bluntness of it all, if it were even a little bit funny.


    ¡°Don¡¯t be mistaken,¡± Ishaan continued, ¡°Those sacrifice grounds¡­ I wouldn¡¯t touch them with a ten foot pole, but there¡¯s only one boss and four of us. Also, I heard some people talking earlier about a guy who¡¯d beat his scenario just by shooting the undead¡¯s cores. And that gun¡­¡± he lifted his shirt slightly, ¡°I grabbed it off him before his body disappeared.¡±


    Both Juan and Maria¡¯s eyes went wide at that. It seemed that with both Jun and Ishaan together on this, they were coming around to the idea. Jun felt a surge of relief at that, but Ishaan had said that there were four of them, and that didn¡¯t quite line up with his own count.


    He glanced at the sullen figure in the corner. Anger rose up again, but he had the foresight to recognize it wasn¡¯t justified before he said anything stupid. These people were already sticking their necks out for the others, asking them to take Jolyn with them on top of that¡­


    I¡¯d be a hypocrite.


    Jun decided it then. He took off his earrings and handed one each to Juan and Maria, already feeling a little less secure without their bonuses.


    [Twin Earrings (Unranked, Common)]


    Earrings forged from mana crystals. Slightly increases base mana regen.


    ¡°This¡ªI can¡¯t¨C¡±


    ¡°Base mana regen¡­¡± Maria pursed her lips, ¡°How effective is it?¡±


    ¡°Less with them split between you,¡± Jun said, ¡°But it should still be enough to make a difference.¡±


    He turned to Ishaan. The man narrowed his eyes before his calm expression returned.


    ¡°I should clarify,¡± he said, ¡°I only see merit in the quest itself. Even if the curse is lifted and all those people wake up¡­ that¡¯s still a lot of enemies down there for them to deal with. And even for the boss¡­ you have a plan right?¡±


    Jun nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll use my skill. I¡¯m certain it will work, but he¡¯ll probably be a higher level than these undead, so I¡¯ll be stunned as well. It¡¯ll fall on you guys to deal the final blow, but if you¡¯re willing to accompany me that far, then that¡¯s more than enough.¡±


    The look in Ishaan¡¯s eyes showed that they¡¯d come to an understanding. Jun hesitated for a second, and then reached into his inventory and placed a cold stone in his palm.


    [Skill Stone - Chimik, Level 9 Scenario Boss]


    Activate for a chance to obtain a randomized skill-drop from an enemy.


    He remembered the description it had when he¡¯d first picked it up from those grassy plains. It had since changed, the pattern on the stone¡¯s surface shifting to reflect its new skill. Jun had felt some hope when he¡¯d first activated it, but now he was just relieved to get rid of it.


    Ishaan frowned, ¡°This requires too many skill slots for me to equip right now.¡±


    ¡°Then keep it for now,¡± Jun said, ¡°Maybe you¡¯ll be able to trade it in for something later down the line.¡±


    The man¡¯s eyes glazed over and this time Jun knew he wasn¡¯t imagining it. That was fine. Not everyone could be driven by the pure kindness of their heart, but it was alway there if you made space for it.


    Jun left the three of them to examine their gifts and he turned and knelt down to Jolyn. She still hung her head low, but he could tell now that she wasn¡¯t as drunk as she came off. Her eyes had regained some focus and she was a little less flushed.


    She must¡¯ve picked up on what they¡¯ve been saying.


    ¡°We won¡¯t leave you behind,¡± Jun told her. She lifted her head just slightly at that. ¡°But you won¡¯t make it like this, either. If you can trust me, can you please show me your skills?¡±


    She nodded feebly, then pulled up her UI.


    [Fire Beam - Level 4 (Novice)]


    Launch a concentrated beam of fire that can inflict the burned status onto enemies.


    He heard the conversation behind him still as the others started to take notice. He couldn¡¯t gauge what a ¡®good¡¯ skill was, but none of the others had something so explicitly dangerous sounding. Jun chided himself for regarding her purely as a liability.


    Then he took off his Bone-shard necklace and placed it gently around her neck, leaving himself with no treasures to his name.


    [Bone-Shard Necklace (F rank, Common)]


    Necklace formed from the bone shards of a Necromancer Chimik. Slightly increases Arcane.


    ¡°Jolyn,¡± he said, ¡°I know this is hard. It¡¯s hard for all of us, but there are others just like you who need help. And you¡¯re the only one here who can help them.¡±


    For the first time in that conversation, she looked him in the eyes. He saw something there, something he didn¡¯t like. A weakness that felt all too familiar. Hope, but in its most desperate form: resignation.


    ¡°Are you¡­ are you here to save me?¡± she asked.


    Jun paused. It was a question he¡¯d been asked many enough times in his life, and he hadn¡¯t hesitated to say yes then. It was the simplest answer, wasn¡¯t it?


    The simplest perhaps, but¡­


    ¡°No,¡± he said, ¡°I¡¯m just like you. I¡¯m not strong enough to carry you through this, I didn''t ask to be here, and I¡¯m just as scared as you are. But look, this necklace here, it¡¯s a symbol of my faith, it¡¯s saying that I believe in you. So the question is, can you believe in yourself? Can you believe in us?¡±


    He held his hand out to her and her hollow expression began to change somewhat. Her hand trembled as she took his own and he pulled her up.


    Seeing her like this¡ªso weak¡ªit made him realize something. He couldn¡¯t just lay all his expectations on someone stronger to save them all. They never would. It fell on themselves to steer their own fate. And if they couldn¡¯t make it in this place alone, they¡¯d do it together. All of them.


    He looked at the map again, and felt a subtle stab of nervousness. It really was a straight shot to the Guild Hall, no red dots, no enemies, just the single one right in the center of the pub. He¡¯d only just given those items away and was already feeling the loss of their bonuses.


    No¡­ I can do this.


    He wasn¡¯t alone.


    Accept Quest? [Yes/No]


    Yes.


    Quest Accepted! A quest party has been formed!


    Members: Maria, Juan, Jolyn, Ishaan, Jun


    Their walk to the Boss chambers was undisturbed. And as they entered the hall Jun looked each of his new companions in the eyes.


    ¡°Just so we¡¯re on the same page,¡± he said, ¡°I didn¡¯t just give you guys those items to bargain with you, it¡¯s a show of trust. We¡¯re a team now, which means I¡¯ve got your backs in there, and I¡¯m trusting you all with mine.¡±


    Juan had earnest determination on his face. Ishaan¡¯s eyes glimmered with confidence. Jolyn¡­ There was a surprising amount of courage there. And he realized he really did have faith in her.


    ¡°Hmph, a sappy one aren¡¯t you,¡± Maria said. Her eyes welled up and she looked suddenly emotional, ¡°I¡¯m too young to have grandchildren, you fool. How old do you think I am?¡±


    ***


    A Party Member Has been Killed!


    Maria was sent flying. It all happened so fast.


    One second she¡¯d been right next to Jun, and the next that small elderly woman was pinned to the Guild¡¯s wooden walls, a dagger through her throat. Head lulling to the side¡ªspine snapped as she gurgled.


    They were frozen. None of them could process what had just happened. The fight had hardly begun¡ªshe¡¯d only barely shot a test arrow at its Core, but it had been perfect! A clean hit, but¡­


    The skeletal figure had a deep laugh as it rose from the ground. It got back to its feet¡ªbare chested but for a tattered red cowl, as if to say he had no need for armor¡ªand behind those ribs, his Core swam in pitch black emptiness, moving.


    ¡°Hah! Ohh¡­¡± his chuckle settled into something deadlier. ¡°The old shifting Core trick. Gets them every time, doesn''t it?¡±


    He jumped onto one of the abandoned wooden tables, leftover mead and food scattering as it dipped under his weight. The entire hall was empty but for him. The purple beverage spilled through his bones, dripping down the rungs of his ribs as he tossed the cup aside.


    ¡°Hmm?¡± he mused, eying them. ¡°So this is what the System had in mind, eh?¡±


    [Lionheart, the Hero]


    Once admired by one and all across the lands, Lionheart was a bastion of protection where no one would have dared settled.


    Now, he¡¯ll settle for some good mead and your head on a spike!


    Level 17 Scenario boss.


    ¡°Shit¡­ shit¨Cshit¨Cshi¨C¡± Ishaan stumbled backwards. Jolyn fell to her knees, screaming. Juan just stared back at Maria in disbelief.


    Level seventeen¡­!


    Jun shakily drew his sword. His eyes pierced that murky black atmosphere to the Core, he knew he wasn¡¯t close enough for [Howl], he could sense it, the boss was too strong.


    ¡®Close enough¡¯? I¡¯d literally have to be touching him. And even then he was certain he¡¯d be locked in place with his skill.


    ¡°Oh come on,¡± the Guildmaster complained, ¡°You know I can¡¯t see that drivel, right? What¡¯s it saying! Washed up? Crippled by ambition? Ruthless?¡± He crossed his leg, tapping his armored knee nonchalantly with his sword tip and made a disappointed tsk. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you now, you can¡¯t just blindly trust the system like that. I¡¯ll prove it, even! One of you¡ªjust one, I¡¯ll let you pass by. You¡¯re free to go.¡±


    He gestured to the open door, where only hours before they had entered¡ªwitless and desperate for reprieve. ¡°You know, before I change my mind?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a trap,¡± Jun muttered. He could hardly hear the words as he said them, his mind whirring rapidly, ¡°Okay, change of plans. I¡¯ll need to get closer than I thought. Ishaan,¡± he looked over and tried to meet the man¡¯s eyes. ¡°Ishaan!¡± he shouted, ¡°Pay attention! I¡¯ll need you to cover me with a bullet fire while¡ªJuan! Juan, don¡¯t¡ª!¡±


    ¡°I¡­¡± he didn¡¯t turn to face them as he walked forward, ¡°I¨CI need to see my family.¡±


    His voice trembled and his walk slowed to a nervous teeter as he passed the table Lionheart sat on.


    A Party Member has been Killed!


    The guildmaster eyed Juan¡¯s head where it balanced on his sword¡¯s tip, ¡°Well, if that¡¯s what you need bud, glad to help! Anyhow¡­that¡¯s enough mercy for today.¡±


    He straightened, cracking his neck¡ªliterally reaching up and cracking it with his palm. Juan¡¯s head rolled to a stop next to the infodesk, eyes pleading.


    Is this my fault?


    For wanting to save the others? For risking their lives?


    No, we all made our own choice.


    The words felt hollow in his head, but he wasn¡¯t alone¡ªthis still wasn¡¯t over. Ishaan¡¯s awareness had returned to him, his finger was playing with the safety on his gun. Jolyn had at least made it back to her feet. And the guildmaster¡­ he was just walking towards them¡ªcautionless in his approach.


    And why shouldn¡¯t he be?


    Jun¡¯s confidence had deluded him. The closer the boss came, the better he could sense the depth of the Essence in his core, the more he doubted his capabilities.


    No, I could do it¡­


    ¡°Ishaan, Jolyn,¡± he whispered, ¡°Please stay calm. I have a plan. I¡¯ll be able to stun the boss but it¡¯ll be at the last second. Get ready.¡±


    He couldn¡¯t check for their response, he immediately turned his attention inwards¡ªsenses traveling inside him, searching for something deeper, and there it was¡ªhis soul.


    It was beautiful, like an endless grass-green plain as far as the eye could see, and at its center, was an old and great tree. Its branches were thick and its leaves blossomed into luminous blue flowers, mana. One branch, in full bloom, extended towards him and he accepted its offering, funneling its energy.


    Suddenly, he became aware of the vast world beneath those plains, an interconnected web of the tree¡¯s roots that spread to touch every aspect of his being¡ªhis Essence. The tree, he realized, wasn¡¯t a separate thing from him, and he took interest now in the patterns its roots formed.


    They existed not in any dimension he conventionally should know to navigate, and yet he knew them intricately. Patterns in one sense, but in another¡ªpathways for his mana to travel. His body, his mind, his spirit, they were all tied to his soul, tethered to his existence, and then¡­ to something else as well. They touched something that wasn¡¯t his. Something alien, something massive far beyond comprehension, but in doing so it became his, didn¡¯t it? That alien force¡­ the System.


    Blind to the outerworld, Jun took a few steps forward and reached his hand out in front of him¡ªfingers touching something coarse and aged, yet astoundingly solid.


    ¡°Hmm, what¡¯s this?¡± a voice mocked. ¡°A bit late for that, lad. I¡¯m afraid I¡¯ve not much to offer aside from my looks.¡±


    Jun hardly heard him laugh as he reached for his Skill, feeling those patterns on a visceral level. He could see now why Alex had described it like he did, as if it were Play Doh that he could only shape in simple ways. He wouldn¡¯t have known how else to sense it at that point, as the truth was infinitely more complex. There were just so many different rules to it that he didn¡¯t know where to start learning. But there was one he knew:


    Mana was not power in the same way Essence was¡ªMana was energy, formless. And while he could shift the patterns of skills in small ways by manipulating its Essence, only by shifting the flow his mana could he change the voltage, the intensity. And he could only go so far before his mana would tear those patterns apart.


    Not just patterns. Those roots were connected to everything, but he had no choice. He surged his mana forth, like a river condensed within a small pipe, it welled up in his throat. More and more. It would tear his essence apart. Those pathways, they were connected to his very existence¡ªit would tear him apart. It would¨C


    A bestial roar unleashed from Jun throat.


    [Howl]


    Jun opened his eyes to a cacophony of sound and vibration. Visions of his roar overlapped with fragmented bits of reality, cracks spreading across his vision. Those roots splintered, flooded with an overflux of mana, and he could feel that alien force working to contain the damage.


    The boss trembled against his feral will, against the confinement of his own form, and his bones trembled as he struggled.


    ¡°Ah¨Cfuck! You¨C¡±


    Jun didn¡¯t let up.


    How long?


    How long has it been? How long can I¨C


    [ERROR - Skill Overload]


    [40%]


    [52%]


    [85%]


    Now! Ishaan, Jolyn, do it now¨C


    He glanced behind him but there was no one there. No Ishaan, no Jolyn, no corpses.


    No¡ªthere was someone at the doorway across the guild! He growled her name¨C ¡°Jolyn!¡±


    She stopped, turning back then. She quivered and lifted her arm towards the boss. Then¡­ he could see her face for a split second, helpless resignation in her eyes. Her expression was equal part guilt and pity as she turned and fled.


    I¡¯m sorry, it said.


    [100%]


    ***


    Yeah, I knew it.


    It had been Jun¡¯s first thought when he regained consciousness, and it wasn¡¯t entirely true. He hadn¡¯t known, but he hadn¡¯t been surprised either. One could only be betrayed so many times in their life before that feeling of surprise stopped coming, and in its place was just a meaningless reprimand.


    I should¡¯ve known.


    Jun tried to move his limbs, but he couldn¡¯t. A part of it was that he just couldn¡¯t be bothered to. It¡¯d been as if all strength had been sucked out of him when he¡¯d used his skill, or perhaps when he saw what had come of it. He didn¡¯t recall hearing the sound of any gunshots before he¡¯d blacked out.


    But really, it had more to do with the rope binding his wrists to the Info-desk behind him. He gave his restraints a slight yank.


    ¡°Well, aren¡¯t you looking lively,¡± the Guildmaster said. He leaned over him, bony fingers tilting up his chin until he was meeting his hollow-eyed gaze. Only, they weren¡¯t as empty as he¡¯d thought. It was like with the undead before, he wasn¡¯t human, but¡­ not dead either.


    Why not kill me? Why am I still¡­


    ¡°Young man,¡± Lionheart cackled, ¡°I would like to offer you a choice¨C¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Jun said, tiredly.


    ¡°Hmm? You didn¡¯t even let me explain my offer, lad. You impressed me, yaknow? Sure, I had my guard down, but I didn¡¯t expect that. If you were under me¨C¡±


    Jun sighed, then closed his eyes.


    ¡°If I were under you,¡± he droned, ¡°I¡¯d go to unforeseen heights. You care for your men like they¡¯re your family. Life with you all is a blast, so I should shed this mortal skin and embrace death. Oh, and you¡¯d never betray me like my party did, is that about right?¡±


    Jun sighed. It all sounded so familiar to his ears that he wanted to cry. Instead, he laughed. His mother, Alex, and now him¡­


    ¡°Only problem is that it¡¯s all a lie, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    The skeleton paused for a moment, then shrugged, settling back into his chair. ¡°Well, not all of it. I do care for my men, see. It¡¯s a little different than family, but when they¡¯re all you have, they¡¯re all you have. As for the rest¡­ Well, you¡¯ll find there¡¯s a lot you don¡¯t care about when you become undead.¡±


    He downed another pint of mead.


    ¡°We¡¯re simple in that way. Humans can be so easily twisted, but us? We¡¯re rather singular in purpose. As long as¡ª[SYSTEM REDACTED]¡ªand¡ª[SYSTEM REDACTED]¡ªOH, WELL FUCK YOU TOO THEN!!¡±


    Lionheart threw his mug on the ground in frustration. Then settled back into a casual slope. ¡°Welllll, it¡¯s pretty much as you see. As a bonus, you won¡¯t have to deal with that vile thing,¡± he gestured vaguely above Jun¡¯s head.


    The System? Aren¡¯t they the System''s monsters?


    It was strange. Something about the undead¡¯s manner made Jun believe everything he said. All things considered¡­ he supposed it wasn¡¯t a bad deal if he was going to die anyways. And who could blame him? Humanity had pretty much forsaken him by this point, hadn¡¯t it? It was the same trap he kept falling for, time and time again. But times had changed, shouldn¡¯t he change with them?


    ¡°Maybe you¡¯re right,¡± Jun eventually said, ¡°I probably would be better off undead.¡±


    ¡°Ohhh?!¡±


    He recalled the look Jolyn had given him when she¡¯d turned back, when she¡¯d consigned him to his death. A weak, resigned expression on her face. I could¡¯ve released Howl right then, and she would have died.


    But there was just one problem with that.


    ¡°Unfortunately,¡± Jun continued, ¡°I¡¯m a humanitarian.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­¡±


    For a second the undead looked almost genuinely sad at the answer. Then he picked up his sword, so Jun closed his eyes again. Jolyn¡¯s expression was still there in his mind. So weak, so hypocritical in her anguish. And yet, pathetically enough, he couldn¡¯t find it in him to be angry with her.


    ¡°Well, never say I¡¯m not a people pleaser,¡± Lionheart said.


    He plunged his sword into Jun¡¯s gut.

 12 — Lionhearts Madness

    9 Undead Adventurers have been Cleansed!


    +900 Essence Crystals


    +27 Points


    An Undead Captain has been Cleansed!


    +500 Essence Crystals


    +10 Points


    Alex stood in front of the entrance to the Guild Hall, its signboard tilted unevenly to one side.


    His chest heaved as blood welled up to wet his tattered work slacks and sleeves, red soaking where their fabrics split. His leather armor was chipped in places and blood welled there too, dripping from frayed bits and ends. Blood ¨C the undead kind ¨C dissipated from his shamshir blade, and the sword herself vibrated with a low-hum thrum at this night¡¯s offerings.


    Soul Link has been damaged.


    HP cannot be restored above 68%.


    Nicks and scratches lay all across her length. And concerningly, at one point they spread deeper than just her surface. And yet, in spite of the damage she had taken during the last few minutes, she still seemed unsatisfied.


    Strangely, Alex felt the same way.


    He ran his fingers gingerly along the face of his blade as he took in the field of carnage to have visited the town¡¯s plaza this night. At his feet, all around him, lay piles of bones and ash, marked by faint splotches of his own blood. And lying directly at his feet was the body of a man Alex vaguely recognized.


    Ishaan - Awakened, Level 6


    Status: Deceased


    Alex had already put the man¡¯s gun in his inventory, all its bullets accounted for. Clearly he had already known they weren¡¯t effective against Undead as he hadn¡¯t bothered wasting any rounds. For all the good it had done him. He hadn¡¯t made it thirty paces from the Guild Halls doors before those guards had caught up and rounded on him. He¡¯d long been dead by the time Alex had arrived.


    It wasn¡¯t the gun that held his focus now, but what else he carried.


    It had taken Alex only one look at the skill stone to recognize where it had come from. Only one second for him to understand why things had gone so differently this time. And only one heartbeat for him to act on it.


    4,300 Essence Crystals have been consumed!


    You have leveled up!


    You have leveled up!


    +6 Skill Slots


    You have entered a Charged State.


    Alex felt surprised by his own actions.


    He wasn¡¯t the type to take unneeded risks, neither was he the type to rush blindly into battle. Even now, his mind ran precise calculations on his odds of victory, playing catch up with his decisions and justifying them post-haste. He wasn¡¯t a man to stick his neck out unnecessarily. And more than anything else, he was not a man who let emotion cloud his judgment while heading into battle.


    Yet, when he kicked down the Guild Hall doors he did so with fury.


    It wasn¡¯t an outward bubbling fury, but more of a desperate fire¡ªburning under the winter storm that was pragmatism and fighting its snowfall for oxygen.


    That corpse out there, he¡¯d recognized him, if just barely.


    He remembered escaping via the underground paths with him and some others. But the corpse he¡¯d found had come from the Guild Hall instead this time, and now that he knew why, that revelation burned. In his first life, this Scenario had four survivors. But they had chosen wrong this time.


    There¡¯d been a saying for it by the time the 4th Scenario had rolled around and it went like this: Nightmare is where good men go to die.


    But there were no longer any good men left here, and the reminder of that was what had burned the most. The tutorial had a type afterall, and it seemed no one had fit the bill this time around.


    And now he was the only one left.


    ¡°Just what do you think you¡¯re doing?¡± Alex demanded.


    His foot shattered a glass of water underfoot. His voice seethed.


    ¡°Watching,¡± the undead said.


    Across the room, the Guildmaster just sat there, crouched over the slumped figure that was Jun, unmoving, bleeding out onto the floorboards. He hardly even took note of Alex, offering no other context until he took another heavy step.


    ¡°Seriously, I¡¯m not in the mood. Go away.¡±


    ¡°No. Answer the question.¡±


    The undead sighed, scratching his head in confusion, ¡°He tried so hard to live¡­I just wanted to see if I cared.¡±


    ¡°And?¡±


    The undead lifted his sword for a decapitation. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ amusing¨C¡±


    [Pierce]


    Alex didn¡¯t bother putting a hard cap on his sword¡¯s greed for mana and his blade surged forward with a raw vigor.


    The undead dodged away from Jun¡¯s body.


    He collided messily against one of the tables and his skull snapped Alex¡¯s way for the first time, locking onto his weapon. For a second his gaze seemed lost like that of a child¡¯s, then that semblance vanished. His stare gained a hard edge and Alex could feel him putting the pieces together in his head as his voice took on a low hum growl.


    [Named Quest has been triggered! - LIONHEART¡¯S MADNESS]


    Guild Master Lionheart has slept the living, imbuing them with the Sacrificial Mark! Only he can complete the ritual and it falls on you to foil his evil machinations!


    Clear Conditions: Disrupt the Sacrificial Ritual


    Rewards: 5,000 essence crystals


    Time to Ritual - [12:37]


    [You have aggroed the Scenario Boss. Quest has been accepted]


    A hidden quest¡­


    Alex¡¯s attention slipped back to Jun¡¯s corpse. He had no clue how the man had triggered a named quest, but it was just¡­ unfortunate. People died. That was just the way it was, especially in Nightmare. It¡¯s why Alex tried not to put too much expectation on them, and perhaps he would¡¯ve accepted any other death for the man. It would¡¯ve just proved him right to do so, but this¡­


    ¡°There¡¯s a saying you know,¡± Alex said, ¡°That Nightmare is where good men go to die. And it¡¯s often meant literally but¡­¡±


    He sighed. The Guildmaster wasn¡¯t listening.


    ¡­But not always¡­ Just rare that you find someone so fucking stubborn about it is all.


    He shifted away from the open clearing and circled towards the strewn out tables, eying his enemy, the first boss he¡¯d face in a real fight this life.


    The undead known as Lionheart hulked nearly eight feet tall with ivory bones that were almost luminescent in the tavern¡¯s dim lighting. Fury was written into his features and his empty eyes flared crimson with hatred as he sent food and drink flying from a nearby table, ¡°...Lugrin, the Mayor¡­ all those men and women¡ªyou killed them! That sword!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a mercy,¡± Alex said.


    Something about the way the Guildmaster¡¯s frame heaved in rage told him he didn¡¯t see it the same way. The boss ground his jaw so hard that flakes of bone tapered off and he seemingly peered into his eyes, ¡°You¡­ You know what you¡¯ve just done, don¡¯t you! You¡ª[SYSTEM REDACTED]¡±


    Alex could tell what he was probably saying even with the redaction. The System broke everyone in different ways, but few fates were more pitiful than the one playing out before him.


    Regardless¡­


    ¡°The struggle of the living cannot be mocked by those who gave it up. You¡¯ll regret not wearing your shiny armor, bastard.¡±


    He spat a bloody tooth out onto the floor. His health was already below the threshold he¡¯d set for himself, but that fire was still burning. With desire, with anger, with anything and everything that could keep it alight these long hours. Even justice.


    Christ. Jordan would laugh if he saw me like this.


    Alex wasn¡¯t a good man. Jun had been a good man, and in Nightmare good men died. Alex wasn¡¯t good, no, and he couldn¡¯t be good. But even so, even though he knew all that, if he could cross avenging one off the bucket list then today could still be a good day.


    And that would be enough.


    He locked eyes with the boss and found that their feud had turned strangely personal. He¡¯d had a feeling it would, ever since he¡¯d seen the skill stone on that man¡¯s corpse, and he¡¯d made extra sure to slaughter all the adventurers standing guard before he entered. Nobody would be intruding on this fight.


    And no one would be leaving prematurely either.


    Ah, that¡¯s right. That¡¯s how it¡¯d been, hadn¡¯t it?


    He found himself unexpectedly chuckling. It was funny, you live a few years without gambling and you start to forget your habits¡­but I tended to bet all in, didn¡¯t I?


    As soon as he had the thought, the Boss charged straight for him.


    ***


    The 2,132th Boss Battle has Begun.


    The 2,133th Boss Battle has Begun.


    The 2,134th Boss Battle has Begun.


    Request for Spectatorship of The 2,134th Boss Battle has been processed.


    Request Granted.


    Battle 2,134


    Scenario Model: Undead Starter-Town


    Progress:


    68 Undead Villagers have been killed


    39 Undead Adventurers have been killed


    5 Undead Captains have been killed


    11 minutes, 43 seconds until the Scenario Quest ends.


    BATTLE


    Alex Smith vs Guild Master Lionheart


    ¡­


    Request for Additional Status purview has been processed


    Request Granted


    Awakened: Alex Smith


    Race: Human


    Bloodline: [Classified]


    Class: N/A


    Level: 14


    Titles: [The First Spark]


    Attributes: [Half-Dead Persistence]


    HP: 68%


    Mana: 100%


    Stamina: 89%


    Skills:


    [Stealth] Lvl 17 (novice)


    [Metalwork] Lvl 9 (novice)


    [Meld] Lvl 6 (novice)


    [Examine] Lvl 3 (novice)


    Free Skill Slots: 9


    Stats:


    Vitality - 3


    Strength - 12


    Dexterity - 8Fortitude - 7


    Perception - 6


    Arcane - 5


    WARNING: THIS IS A SYSTEM-HOSTED BATTLE. UNSANCTIONED BETS AND INTERFERENCE WILL NOT BE TOLERATED.


    Please Enjoy.


    ***


    As soon as the fight began a familiar notification appeared in Alex¡¯s interface.


    The Constellations have taken interest in your fight.


    He swept it out of vision as Lionheart charged at him, barrelling through chairs and tables. Splinters flew from his path like a wooden blizzard, but he still had time to charge his blade.


    [Pier¡ª


    Alex canceled the Skill at the last second. He¡¯d shown this one already and the undead was caught off foot by the timed switch up. He¡¯d already been dodging left, but then made a sudden shift in direction¡ªsmacking into the wall with his right shoulder.


    Alex swung up at his left side.


    Clang!


    The boss¡¯s bulky steel longsword was five feet and unmaneuverable in the corridor between the wall and the next table over. But he¡¯d switched it to his left hand, wielding it as if it were a dagger as he intercepted Alex¡¯s shimshar. Even Alex¡¯s newfound strength paled next to the once-hero boss¡¯s.


    But he was well used to being the weaker one in such an exchange.


    As the boss pressed down with more strength he slid his Oslumnen blade up along the Boss¡¯s towards the handle. Sparks flew along his blade¡¯s path and he felt tempted to learn [Glancing Blow] if only he could spare the skill slots. He arced the point of his shamshir blade towards the shadowy center of the boss¡¯s chest¡ªtowards its Core.


    An elbow whiffed past where Alex¡¯s head had been and he retreated.


    He quickly yanked his blade free, the bottom three rungs of the boss¡¯s rib cage falling away from its right side as he did so. Lionheart used Alex¡¯s retreat to recover, shifting his sword back to a proper two-handed grip as he trailed after in pursuit.


    [Feather Foot]


    Alex had relearned the skill when he¡¯d faced the adventurers guarding the boss doors. Facing off so many foes without any type of movement skill was plain suicide afterall, and that went double for facing a boss.


    The skill activated and suddenly Alex¡¯s feet felt as if they could walk across air for how light they were. He ducked effortlessly to the right as the greatsword whipped past his shoulder.


    Devastation followed the blow. Chairs shattered, gashes were carved into floor planks. And even with all that force behind that attack, the boss left no openings for counter attack after the first surprise Alex had given him. That fact spoke not just of its sheer power¡­ but of its technique. And that technique spoke of experience.


    Shit.


    Alex backed away from his next blow, caution in his spacing.


    He hadn¡¯t expected this fight to be easy or anything, but you couldn¡¯t always tell how difficult a fight would be just from knowing an enemy¡¯s level. These were living things after all, or¡­ most of them.


    If this guy¡¯s as tough as I think¨C


    Two more vehement lashes assaulted his ears as they soared inches away. They showered him with splinters where wood exploded and Alex danced away, weaving behind tables as he dodged. He found himself on the defense for a long stretch of time as the Guild Master wrecked his own pub in his madness. He concentrated on every minor movement the boss made and reacted immediately to preserve his life. He hardly had much opportunity to strike back.


    And by the time he¡¯d found his back against the far his breath had started to come uneven.


    Essence has been integrated with the Dexterity Stat!


    +2 Dexterity


    Essence has been integrated with the Perception Stat!


    +2 Perception


    Splinters were embedded in Alex¡¯s skin, and his health ticked down a point as he continued bleeding from his cuts and gashes. Although he¡¯d wrapped them with bed-sheets, the damage to his sword had seen him unable to heal himself completely and blood still seeped out in small amounts as he moved. He didn¡¯ let slip any sign of relief as he felt the labor of his struggles bear fruit.


    He scanned his surroundings and readied an escape plan just in case things went sour. Not that he intended on escaping.


    Across the pub, the undead straightened. Instead of continuing his pursuit, he started laughing madly to himself and as he turned towards Alex the look in his hollow eyes chilled him. There wasn¡¯t anger there anymore. Replacing it was a look he recognized, one he¡¯d greeted himself with every day these past many years.


    Tiredness.


    ¡°Ha! Haha¡­ hah¡­¡± the undead covered those eye holes with bony fingers as he barked, ¡°Ahh¡­ that¡¯s relieving. So relieving! Lugrin, my Captain, you see he¡¯d always said he wanted to die in battle against a worthy foe! Well¡ªdie as in¡­¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± Alex said. As in before.


    ¡°And well, I really do apologize. I saw that weapon of yours and thought you were one of those. Really put me into a rage, that did.¡±


    Alex nodded. He knew the type all too well.


    A Constellation¡¯s plaything.


    The System didn¡¯t allow for any patronage or sponsorships this early, but they always had their ways. Little gifts hidden here or there. Whispers of knowledge or sponsorships that were established before the integration even began.


    ¡°But it seems my friend Lugrin got his wish afterall! Good for him, eh?¡±


    Lionheart laughed but it no longer sounded so jovial.


    ¡°Yeah, good for him.¡±


    And how pitiful for you.


    The creature before him probably couldn¡¯t even put a name to the feeling it felt. Sadness. Loneliness, maybe.


    But that was neither here nor there. If the boss was going to give Alex time for a breather, then¡­


    ¡°Don¡¯t even think about it.¡± Lionheart said.


    He pointed his blade towards Alex, who had only just summoned another mana potion from his inventory. Alex finished his calculations at the same time as Lionheart said and arrived at the same answer he had. The boss could close the distance faster than it¡¯d take him to both drink the potion and react.


    Dammit. This is why I hate humanoid mobs.


    ¡°Ah, it¡¯s always like this,¡± Lionheart complained, ¡°Sometimes you just want to talk to a person before you kill them. Get to know them before you bleed their life from them, yaknow? Why can¡¯t the living ever interact in good faith, dammit.¡±


    Alex felt a genuine puzzlement in the Boss¡¯s words and he had to suppress a pang of pity for the terrifying thing. A sorrow that wasn¡¯t completely his welled up in his chest and though Alex¡¯s heart still hammered, he found his anger slowly fading.


    ¡°I suppose I must apologize,¡± Alex said.


    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    ¡°Finally! Someone who gets it! I¡¯m here, you¡¯re here, what¡¯s the need for those blue things anyways? Let¡¯s do this fair and honorable, yeah?¡±


    Alex wasn¡¯t apologizing for that, but he didn¡¯t bother to correct the man¡¯s misconception.


    He¡¯d forgotten, in the years since he¡¯d last faced them. Undead were many things; creepy, deadly, tediously hard to kill, massive irredeemable assholes¡ªbut they also couldn¡¯t be faulted for their nature. They¡¯d had things taken from them, things that they couldn¡¯t even know were missing. Things no proper human would give away.


    And perhaps another person might just wave that all away, but Alex understood. Afterall, he too had once been broken. He knew what it felt like to feel less than whole, to feel like something at the core of his being had been taken from him. And to not know exactly what it was¡ªa torturous existence to say the least.


    ¡°It seems I¡¯ve been hypocritical,¡± Alex finally said. He gave a long sigh. ¡°I don¡¯t have a grudge against you now, but I¡¯ll be avenging that young man over there if you don¡¯t mind kindly dying for me.¡±


    The boss had been practice-swinging with his sword arm, peering curiously at his missing ribs. He stopped at that. And whatever trace amount of vulnerability Alex thought he¡¯d seen left his expression vanished as he laughed some more. It was a deep thing, infectious and booming. The kind of laugh that made following a man into hell just a little easier.


    That of a natural-born leader.


    ¡°Ha!¡± Lionheart barked, ¡°I¡¯d have it no other way! Guess this one will be for my fallen comrades then. But¡­ not like this. No, this won¡¯t do at all. These things have a proper decorum don¡¯t they? Let''s see¡­ how did it go¡­¡±


    He scratched his skull, then stopped¡ªseemingly remembering something. The atmosphere of the room shifted. Lights flickered slightly overhead and the undead boss straightened with unreal posture.


    His left foot snapped to attention next to his right, the flat of his sword was held straight in front of him. What hair he had left began to flow and levitate from his cracked skull. And though the strands were dry and dull, Alex imagined there what must have once been a luscious mane of red.


    ¡°My name is Lucius,¡± the boss announced, ¡°Second son and heir to the Lionheart Barony. Once, I was an Adventurer of Valstani, known as its Righteous Blade. In retirement I became the Guild Master of the Misting Valleys, known then as Banisher of Darkness and the Valley¡¯s Protector. I am still the Guild Master here, but as you can see we¡¯re in need of a renovation¡±


    He gestured about the room with an offbeat sense of humor as the town¡¯s rampant fire finally touched the building¡¯s front entrance.


    There was an energy to the Boss that began to thicken now. A scent of death and tarnished honor. And more than that, an eagerness¨C to fight, to kill, to spill blood across the land with the moon and stars as a witness¨C that energy filled the hall as the fire began to spread.


    ¡°I tell you this,¡± Lionheart continued, ¡°Not so you remember me. But so you know your death will be honored by my blade. This is your end, human.¡±


    His stance shifted as he turned the sword¡¯s sharp end towards Alex, and there stood a shadow of greatness. Of the General he¡¯d described.


    And in that moment, Alex couldn¡¯t buy that this was a mere level 17 Boss. Perhaps now, but he couldn¡¯t always have been.


    It was curious, now that Alex thought of it. He¡¯d always assumed that the enemies in Nightmare had been tailored to match them, but now that he knew the basics of how Necromancy functioned that was seeming dubious.


    These weren¡¯t some characters in a game but organic material. No, living things in a twisted sense. The System was known to recycle assets, but it wasn¡¯t as if it had a limited supply of souls to choose from. So why did the boss before him feel so at odds with his level of power?


    Alex had never had the time or insight to wonder about these things in his last life, but now the question bugged him.


    You still don¡¯t, he reminded himself.


    All this talk about Constellations had reminded Alex that they were watching, and even if they couldn¡¯t hear what he was saying, it would be wise to move things along.


    He could feel the warmth of the fire approaching him. His hairs bristled his skin from the pressure the boss gave off and he lost yet another Health Point from blood loss. His dueling skills were still rusty given how long he¡¯d marketed himself in a supportive role. But despite it all, he felt his lips crack in a small unwitting smile.


    ¡°Good,¡± he said, ¡°Your life will make for an excellent reforging.¡±


    He held his shamshir at the ready and felt her shiver. There was a tension to her, a desire in line with his own. A scent of mourning yes, but beyond that she yearned for finality, and felt a small pleasure in the partaking of it.


    Alex tried to cloak stealth over himself.


    Warning: You cannot cast stealth in the presence of enemies¡ª


    Liar.


    Alex felt for his stats; ten Dexterity, eight Perception


    I meet the requirements, that¡¯s the important part. The rest¡­ it¡¯s close enough.


    Alex didn¡¯t have a generational talent like Jun did. His senses couldn¡¯t discern or navigate the pathways of Skill patterns the way prodigies could, working backwards to discover more skills. But what he did have was experience.


    Stealth was his very first skill in his last life as well, and he¡¯d used it relentlessly, wearing it for hours on end, like a snug blanket during nights where dangers prowled. He may not know those patterns for what they were but he knew what the Skill felt like.


    He felt for that freshly bound Essence now, and rather than twist it into a new pattern he found the one that already existed within him and added it there. The pattern of [Stealth] vibrated. And for a second, it seemed as if it would expand to explore deeper pathways. But like a rubber band that had been stretched too far, it suddenly contracted on itself and stopped.


    Alex couldn¡¯t have that.


    He strained against the instinct to let the Pattern to settle, to let his Essence simply reinforce its shape.


    [Stealth]¡¯s fabric may not be strong enough, but he knew its pathways like the back of his hand. And in lack of a strong enough material, he instead gave the pattern a stronger, more efficient weave. He stretched the skills pattern to its utmost limit, soldering new pathways into his being, ensuring that he never went so far as to snap that rubber band and break it.


    And by the time he stopped, the skill¡¯s pattern had settled into something entirely new.


    Stealth has leveled up!


    Stealth has leveled up!


    Stealth has leveled up!


    Stealth is now level 20!


    [Stealth] has been upgraded to Apprentice Rank.


    6 Skill Slots have been filled.


    [Stealth - Level 20 (Apprentice)]


    The skill can now be cast and maintained under the attention of enemies.


    A dark, hazy, and formless shroud covered Alex now and the difference was immediately noticeable. If before he¡¯d been entering a shroud of imperceivable darkness, it was now as if he were wearing it like a cloak. It didn¡¯t hide him in entirety of course, not under Lionheart¡¯s direct scrutiny, but now he blurred and blended in with the shadows that lied in plain sight, making it harder to discern his form


    ¡°Thank you for waiting,¡± Alex said.


    He was fortunate that the boss did, though he hadn''t counted on it.


    Lionheart expressed his thanks by charging towards him. He barreled through the remaining tables with ease now and Alex leveled his sword for [Pierce], intending to break out of the corner he¡¯d found himself in with one swift motion.


    He¡¯d lost count of how many times he¡¯d used the skill now and found himself cringing at the amount of mana his sword took. He couldn¡¯t deny that this usage would need the extra umph, but he couldn¡¯t rely on it as a crutch anymore after this.


    [Mana: 41%]


    He lunged forward, his sword singing as he followed the strike¡¯s momentum through, carving a small chunk from Lionheart¡¯s pelvis.


    He was in the open now, but he turned back only to find a large hulking blade soared towards him, a venomous roar behind it.


    Shit!


    [Feather foot]


    Alex increased the flow of his mana through the skill, nearly stumbling over himself as he dodged.


    Lionheart¡¯s blade whiffed his head, severing a lock of his hair.


    No, that¡¯s not all!


    The hairs the Boss¡¯s blade had touched slowly started turning gray and the color began to spread on his head. Recognizing the symptoms, he quickly leaped behind an upturned table and cut the remnant of that lock of hair from his head.


    A split second later the blade carved through it and rolled out and under the blow, scrambling for more cover. He rolled behind another table, then against his better judgment he attempted an ambush from out of view. His mana welled up in his blade as he felt the approach of danger.


    [Pierce]


    Wood from the table splintered from the path of his sword and Lionheart reeled for a second. Then he raised his blade to take the skill on its flat.


    His giant blade cracked a little at its base but held form. But his Undeath¡¯s Bane didn¡¯t escape the conflict unscathed either.


    Alex cursed. That was an arming sword strike, not a shamshir strike!


    He followed up with a swift, agile twist, closing in on the man. He swung his sword upward, aiming to sever the Boss¡¯s left arm, but Lionheart sidestepped his attack and swung his greatsword downward from Alex¡¯s left.


    Alex was prepared, however, and took the strike on the blunt sword''s spine, dangerously close to its guard. The Shamshir¡¯s strong curve allowed for him to guide the blade¡¯s path downard where it wedged into the floorboards with minimal damage. That was why he¡¯d forged her in the shape he had, and he cursed himself for hardly utilizing that fact. This whole night he¡¯d been treating her as if she were his old arming sword and he was only now starting to adjust the way he fought.


    The instant the sword crashed, Alex had half a mind to slice a few more ribs from the undead¡¯s other side, but quickly decided against it. The advantage wouldn¡¯t be noteworthy and the boss had already shown himself to be adept and hand to hand combat.


    So sure enough, by the time the fist had been swung Alex had already evacuated and was back to scrambling for cover and planning his next ambush.


    He was literally scrambling, curse his sorry fate. He nearly tripped over himself again as he dodged another strike.


    Shit! I should¡¯ve gotten more used to this body before attempting this combination!


    The reason the upgraded Stealth ability required a skill weave into the Perception stat was simple. When your form became harder to discern, it also made it harder to discern where your own damn feet were! Add into that some scuffed footwork with feather foot and it was like he was trying to track a shadow in a field of shifting lights!


    Not to mention, he had to watch Lionheart for¡ª


    SMASH!


    Body-cues on where¨C


    KABOOM!


    His next damn attacks wer¨C


    WARNING


    You have been inflicted with the Sepsis debuff. So long as you have open wounds, HP will drain 5% every thirty seconds for 2 minute¡ª


    WARNING


    Your Lifeforce is wounded. Sepsis cannot be combated with Vitality. So long as you have open wounds, HP will drain 10% every thirty seconds until death.


    Alex touched his cheek, cursing, but it came out mumbly.


    A small thin line of blood trailed along his bone where the sword had barely grazed him and that side of his face was already starting to numb as his veins started turning gray underneath, spreading like cracks on a mirror. Soon his left eye would cease to function, and eventually, the whole left side of his body would too.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong,¡± Lionheart teased, ¡°Cat got your tongue?¡±


    ¡°Tha wazen vewy nobvle ov you.¡±


    ¡°Yeeeah,¡± he cracked his neck, ¡°I don¡¯t know where I was going with that crap anyways.¡±


    Alex said nothing to that.


    He was out of time, and not because of sepsis, but because of his Mana. Between the constant drain of both [Feather Foot] and his upgraded [Stealth] skills an extended fight was quickly becoming unsustainable.


    Not that Alex could write off Sepsis¡¯s effects of course. He grimaced as its first tick began.


    [HP: 54%]


    His sword had been damaged further during this fight and Soul link had been even further damaged. It would only take two more ticks of Sepsis before his health went below 34%, his personal threshold for when he was no longer in fight shape.


    From there he would be unable to stop the bleeding effects without a healer or health potion¡ªthe second of which he had, but it would be a damn shame to waste a High grade potion just to gain back a couple dozen health points.


    Guess I better end this now then.


    [Mana: 24%]


    Lionheart made a sudden jerking motion and Alex instantly leapt into movement.


    There was only one way he could see himself ending this fight quickly and it involved learning a new skill. But the skill in question would require 20% of his mana at the moment, hence why the mana drain concerned him.


    Both Feather foot and Stealth were passive skills and it was too dangerous not to have both of them active during this fight. The combined drain totalled up to about 3% every twenty seconds, and running below 20% would destroy his chances in this fight, killing him either way.


    He hadn¡¯t been running away for nothing of course. Between the mental tax of using both the skills and the tax of reading the movements of a veteran swordsman, Alex¡¯s mental capacity was overclocked. Or at least it had been.


    Now, he was starting to get used to it.


    Alex leapt behind the Info-desk counter.


    Lionheart sent a horizontal slash through the info-desk creating an absolute blizzard of broken wood and appliances. It created the perfect stop of miniature shadows, and for once, Alex had the chance to activate stealth while fully out of sight of the monster.


    He took full advantage of it, trailing the large chunk of debris that was the desk surface and it bought him a precious second as the Guildmaster¡¯s head swerved to find him.


    But he¡¯d been steadily growing more capable of the Stealth-Feather Foot skill combo with each second that passed and by the time that gigantic sword trailed his path he was already where he needed to be.


    The Guildmaster¡¯s sword art was impeccable. On par or perhaps even greater than Alex''s own. Yet, as Alex saw more of it he¡¯d noticed a weakness to it.


    Cutting off a few rungs of an undead¡¯s ribs didn¡¯t hinder it the way it would a human, but with such a large sword the body¡¯s structural balance was still important. Alex had been expecting the boss to correct it after the first few swings, and he had. He¡¯d overcorrected it. And then adjusted down from there. This told Alex two things:


    One, that if he¡¯d overcorrected it once, he¡¯d be liable to do it again if he was under more pressure. And secondly¡­ that this most definitely wasn¡¯t a Level 17 boss he was dealing with, not truly. It¡¯d only been a hunch before, but now he was certain.


    He was facing an opponent more skilled than that. Much much more. And he was unused to fighting in a body so weak. It was¡­ a bad match for his sword style.


    I would¡¯ve wished to fight you at your best, Alex thought.


    He added an addendum to that.


    And me at mine.


    Sepsis ticked away another inch of his health and he brought his sword up to parry the undead¡¯s giant swing, glancing it off at an angle. It had too much force behind it and his death blade started to crack, but he had faith in her structural integrity.


    Osmium, for all it allowed, was still a soft metal and Lionheart¡¯s own blade was properly crafted steel unlike all the other¡¯s weapons. He¡¯d avoided taking direct clashes with it most of the fight, but just this once.


    Just this once, she¡¯ll hold.


    Those cracks deepened along her spine from stress. His left-side vision blinked out. His face slackened even as his well-placed footwork carried him out of the way from a knee blow and inside his the large man¡¯s space. Wisps of shadow followed him and sparks flew where his blade followed the other down to the hilt, severing a loose thumb.


    All these things happened at once as Lionheart¡¯s momentum threw the blade slicing over where Alex now crouched. The fire from the town had spread around the pub and now it was starting to smoke.


    He eyed the undead¡¯s core as it started to swim from his blade¡¯s path, away from any accessible gap between the ribs. It ducked behind the sternum.


    Alex¡¯s blade may be an undead¡¯s kryptonite, but the thickness of bones would still slow him down too much. It would only be a fraction of a second, but¡ª


    [Mana: 21%]


    He followed through with his swing regardless, pulling on a tide of mana. But not for Pierce. No, Alex instead called for a different skill. One he had learned in his past life.


    His mana practically burned his body from the inside as all of it joined the storm, following those tethered pathways of essence¡ªand he reached for a skill he knew¡ªthe only one he could count on, funneling all his mana into it.


    [Sever]


    He sliced the undead in two.


    The only thing he hadn¡¯t expected was the shrill scream from his blade as he did so.


    Throughout his years, Alex always liked to think he was more in tune with his blades than the average swordsman. That he was as much a vessel for them as they were to him.


    This was something different. Something he¡¯d never experienced. And as the shrill, metallic scream reached a fever pitch¡ªas it reverberated in his bones¡ªhe thought he could see it. The place this had once been.


    Music chiming a joyous Celtic rhythm, barmaids scampering to and thro, everyone had genuine expressions on their faces as they gambled away that day¡¯s earnings¡ªit was the kind of place Alex himself might frequent. And in the middle of it all was Lionheart¡ªyounger than he must¡¯ve been when he died¡ªgrinning ear to ear with a satisfied look in his eyes.


    It wasn¡¯t just your guild, it was your home¡­


    Then just as quickly as it appeared it was gone. The pub was burning up in flames. Lionheart was nothing but ash and a small pile of bones next to the pile of items and gear he¡¯d donned.


    Guildmaster Lionheart [Lvl 17] has been slain!


    +100 Points!


    +5,000 Essence!


    Quest: [Lionheart¡¯s Madness] Complete!


    Evil has been vanquished! Guild Master Lionheart¡¯s maddened ritual of sacrifice has been ruined and those afflicted with his deathly mark have reawoken! The High Council awards your sense of Justice!


    5,000 Essence Crystals have been awarded!


    Alex hardly took note as the notifications blipped by or the essence settled into his soul. He just watched with his blank look on his face where the boss¡¯s core was sliced in two¡ªlifeless.


    No¡­


    He knew he wasn¡¯t just imagining it now¡ªthat mischievous glint his blade had, but it no longer has that sharp edge to it, nor that underlying sense of sadness. She was¡­ satisfied, oddly peaceful. As if she¡¯d just had the most filling meal of her short life. And the Boss¡¯s core that should¡¯ve been there was dull and drained of all its aura.


    She can do no wrong, she can do no wrong, she can do no wrong, she¡­


    Alex repeated it like a mantra as he restrained himself from continuing what Lionheart had started and snapping her in two. It was only when he began to lose that battle that he realized his sepsis debuff was still ticking down.


    He calmed himself.


    He let loose a long exhale as a support beam crashed down beside him. Then he pulled the iron sword and all the other loot into his inventory as he got up. All things considered, he was in no shape to be crying over spilt cores.


    Quickly, he pulled his knife from his inventory and heated it by the collapsing pub¡¯s fires. He had no way of stopping the Sepsis affliction at this moment so he¡¯d really been hoping it would go away with the boss¡¯s death, but he did at least have a way to stop its bleed effect. He grimaced as he lifted the hot knife to his skin, then froze.


    He suddenly spotted another prize in the boss¡¯s ashes, one he could¡¯ve sworn hadn¡¯t been there before.


    [Holy Gauze (Unique)]


    Gauze enchanted by a Divine being to stop prevent blood loss from wounds and seal Death-aspected afflictions.


    Alex¡¯s grimace deepened into a scowl as the item instantly wrapped itself around his wounds, but he equipped it regardless. He¡¯d have been stupid not to, cauterization would¡¯ve worked well enough, but the scarring would¡¯ve been permanent.


    Still, he didn¡¯t take it lightly. A Constellation had broken the system¡¯s rules to give him this, and he wasn¡¯t mistaken on what it really was. Being a one of their playthings was bad enough, but if this was a sign of support it would¡¯ve come with an overpowered skill and an enchanted weapon. Alas, it was just life-support, and it was no more a gift than it was bait on the hook.


    The only thing worse than being a constellation''s plaything was being one of their pawns.


    It still didn¡¯t make sense how they¡¯d found him so quick. Looking back they¡¯d joined the fight too early for it to have been his trait, and they shouldn¡¯t have access to his information this early outside of boss fights.


    But there was only so much enlightenment to be gained from wondering so Alex simply let out a sigh and stood up.


    [Sepsis] has been sealed. Bleed effect has been halted.


    He¡¯d never willingly cut a gamble so close as he had this one. Not one he¡¯d simply walked away from, at least. And yet, he was alive.


    So alive. In those final moments, when sepsis had been slow-crawling towards his heart, he¡¯d felt the most alive than he had in ages. His heart still echoed that riveting beat even now.


    He walked slowly through the torn up and still burning pub, careful not to put too much stress on his injuries. He held his blade gingerly in both hands and his gaze lingered there for an instant.


    What had occurred in that moment was a known phenomena¡ª¡®Lilith¡¯s bond¡¯. It had a more scientific name but that was the one he¡¯d known it by. It was when a blade¡¯s trait synergized with a skill beyond what could logically be expected. He¡¯d only witnessed it a few times in his life, but when Lys had shattered from his [Energy Pierce]¡­ he was certain that was what had occurred. But it was extremely rare and he¡¯d never heard of it occurring with an uncommon blade.


    On the other hand, [Sever] wasn¡¯t anything too special at all. It was an uncommon skill¡ªwhich was always a privilege to luck into for someone who¡¯d been at his level at the time¡ªbut it was essentially just [Cut] with the added bonus of being more effective on undead. He couldn¡¯t say why. He hadn¡¯t ever needed to, and he was realizing that was true about a lot of things now. He had a lifetime¡¯s worth of trivia from the thing¡¯s he¡¯d experienced, but he never felt the need to ponder the question. And now that things weren¡¯t adding up it was really starting to grate.


    He looked at his blade. Examine.


    [Undeaths Bane (Uncommon, F Grade)]


    Status: Disrepair


    He sighed as he made the wise decision to move his death blade to his inventory as well, lest she crumble in his hands. She¡¯d started looking less like a blade and more like ice that was beginning to crack and split.


    Soul Link has been damaged. HP cannot be restored.


    Alex paused a second to look out the door of the tavern. One of the hinges was broken and he could see the roofs of the other buildings through the gap. There were still hundreds of undead villagers and a few Adventurers still out there, but with few capable leaders they weren¡¯t a threat for the meantime.


    They had all been human once. This was their world. Alex and all the others had been sent to eradicate them. These three facts had never been hidden from them, but fighting Lionheart Alex realized he¡¯d had something backwards. He¡¯d thought that when they¡¯d been turned undead they¡¯d been strengthened by the system. But no, they¡¯d been weakened¡­ to match them. And that was just confusing.


    Most confounding of all, how the fuck had he returned to his younge¡ªoh fuck it, who cares?


    He. That¡¯s who. But he couldn¡¯t bother with that at the moment. The place was literally burning down around him, which would make for a pathetic end of things after such a lively battle. It was Socrates who¡¯d phrased it best when it came down to it: The only true wisdom is knowing that you know nothing.


    That could be his enlightenment for the day. Along with another classic, ¡°Don¡¯t look a gift horse in the mouth.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s done,¡± Alex said, ¡°You¡¯ve been avenged.¡±


    He gave Jun the longest moment of silence he could risk to offer as he set the skill stone on the man¡¯s corpse. It was a precious treasure, but Alex wouldn¡¯t be hurting for those soon enough. And he¡¯d meant it when he said it was an even split. This night was his rebirth, if there was ever a time to uphold senseless honor, now would spell for a good omen.


    [Skill Stone]


    Skill: Arise


    But more than that, it was respect that drove his actions. Regardless of talent, the man had neither the instincts nor luck required to survive Nightmare, but he had something just as important. Something Lionheart lacked. Something Alex hadn¡¯t even realized how sorely he was missing until recently. In all the world¡¯s, there were harder, more magical, more potent ores than those you could find on earth, but there was nothing he found more reliable than steel. It didn¡¯t bend. It didn¡¯t break.


    ¡°If even this place couldn¡¯t break you,¡± he said, ¡°Then nothing can.¡±


    Amen.


    It was only when he¡¯d turned his back that Alex felt the slightest pulse of essence.


    He froze. Then he staggered back, stuck between maniacal laughter and a loathing, jealous sigh. He settled for a median of stunned silence as he uncorked his health potion and poured it between the man¡¯s lips.


    ¡°Fucking talent¡­¡±


    Never should it be taken as an indicator of survival¡­ but never should it be taken for granted either.


    Especially not something like this. The night may have taken that boss¡¯s core from him, it seemed to have given him something better in return. And as it truly soaked in how much better, the maniacal laughter finally came.


    Alex had been surprised when the man had survived that first night. But it was when he¡¯d mastered cultivation of his essence into Vitality so quickly, that the doubt had come. Just the tiniest sliver of in Alex¡¯s mind. But the odds were so astronomically low that he¡¯d written it off.


    Now he knew his hunch had been right.


    Jun technically didn¡¯t have any talent at all. What he had was one of the rarest, most priceless affinities known to man: an affinity with the Life Aspect. And though it was incredibly useful for healing, anyone who took that as a sign that they should just become a healer was a wasteful fool.


    He sighed, the laughter dying down. The pub burned as hot as a furnace now, and he was well aware that each second he spent here was another gamble. But that was the thing about gambling, wasn¡¯t it? You roll the dice once, you can be damned sure you¡¯ll roll it again. And someday¡­ someday that karma comes back with a vengeance so bitter that you walk away for good. You vow never again.


    That day wouldn¡¯t be today. That day would be never. But especially not today if the way Jun tossed and turned was any indicator.


    The first thing this fool will want to do when he wakes is go save those ex-sacrifices.


    That was fine. He wouldn¡¯t stop him. He had reason to believe it wasn¡¯t as futile an effort as it originally would¡¯ve been, and if good steel didn¡¯t survive the tempering stage then that was simply a fact of the process. Alex wouldn¡¯t join him, a good gambler knew when to step away.


    And if Jun survived this, if he returned, then that¡¯s how he knew he was an ore worth shaping.


    It would take some convincing of course. A lot actually. And even if Jun forgave him, he wouldn¡¯t at all be happy to hear what Alex had in store for him. But at its core, the reason the Life Aspect was so priceless was so simple it had been one of the first things Alex had learned. Essence lies at the intersection of life and power¡ªand just as there could be no life without Essence, there could be no power without life either. There was one class, above all others, Alex could think of that could make the most of the affinity.


    A Necromancer.


    ¡­Yeah, Jun wasn¡¯t going to like it one bit. But that was fine for now. No amount of pragmatism could smother the joy a craftsman felt when laying eyes on such priceless material. Nor could it quench the fire that bellowed in his heart. It had truly been a night of enlightenments for Alex, but if there was one it had brought above all others, it was this:


    Humans, too, could be forged.


    SCENARIO TWO HAS ENDED.


    Please wait as rewards are given out.

 13 — How Nightmares Are Born

    Alex grunted, pulling himself out of the river¡¯s stream as the sun barely rose in the sky.


    It was nary more than a creek really, where it ran shallow through the town¡¯s southern outskirts, but it still reached up to his knees to wet his pants where he¡¯d rolled them up to. He¡¯d been bent over, his hands obscured beneath the water¡¯s murky surface and as he straightened they came away with muddy wet clumps. He tossed them into a wooden bucket and then filled the rest with more water, topping it off.


    Examine.


    Clay Water - Impure.


    Well, that¡¯s a good sign.


    If the System was classifying it as Clay water now, then Alex knew that this deposit was at least pure enough to be processed into workable clay, which was something he couldn¡¯t take for granted with how the world¡¯s deathly aura tainted it black.


    The purity would rise with time, and soon Examine would even be able to tell him percentages.


    That was the upside of real skills, unlike UI installations they could be trained. The more time he spent examining a similar category of items, the more it¡¯d be able to tell him about them. Sure, Inspect could¡¯ve told him he was dealing with wet clay all the same, but at Examine¡¯s higher levels the two were incomparable. The only problem was¡­ it took a while to get there. He¡¯d been harvesting clay for at least a few hours now and at first it couldn¡¯t tell him anything other than that it was hydrous phyllosilicate.


    Alex gave a soft snort and¡ªdeciding the mixture had settled long enough¡ªpoured the top layer of scum back into the stream. He briefly glanced down at what was now his 22nd bucket of the stuff before vanishing the mixture into his inventory, leaving behind a lone well-bucket.


    The capability to separate the two was one of the features of the Inventory upgrade that had come with his Nightmare Starter-pack. He¡¯d thought the bonus laughable in his original run, but the utility it provided was not to be scoffed at. Processing clay was a tedious and time consuming process and he wasn¡¯t always guaranteed to be near such a fine deposit when he needed more. If he¡¯d had to process everything he needed in one batch with the normal Inventory, then he would¡¯ve needed a much bigger bucket.


    Sighing in satisfaction, he vanished the bucket too and sat down, wiping his wet and dirty hands on gray grass. Wind ruffled the stained and torn rags that were once his work shirt, but it was no longer as cold. With his Perception stat increase he¡¯d also grown accustomed to intentionally dulling his senses. Moreso, it seemed that his strength had increased his body mass, at least so far that he looked more like a twig branch in spring rather than one in mid-winter.


    Further into town, Alex could still see the barest glimmer from torches as they faded into dawn¡¯s


    light, but things had largely quieted down from earlier.


    Jun must¡¯ve done what I told him then.


    The man had been wary of Alex and clearly still wasn¡¯t his biggest fan, but to his credit he seemed to listen more intently when other people¡¯s lives were on the line. A respectable trait in any other place, really. Even as Alex had given the man some instruction, a part of him still fully expected him to die this night.


    He recalled the conversation he¡¯d had with the man once he¡¯d awoken.


    ¡°Gather anyone in fighting shape and kill all the undead with the ¡®Captain¡¯ rank,¡± he¡¯d told him, ¡°They¡¯re the only ones that can rally the villagers.¡±


    And they were also the only ones smart enough to know they should. Undead were weaker under the day¡¯s light, but there¡¯d still been enough Adventurers in those catacomb tunnels that whatever survivors of the mayhem that undoubtedly ensued after he¡¯d defeated Lionheart were probably exhausted and easy pickings by now. But without a leader, the less intelligent undead would simply wait until nightfall when they were stronger instead of pressing their advantage now.


    Cut the snake off at its head as they say.


    And if Jun followed Alex¡¯s other piece of advice, he wouldn¡¯t stop there. Barely eking by for one scenario just means you¡¯re setting yourself up to die the next.


    It still won¡¯t be enough, he had to remind himself.


    Jun had promise, but promises were made to be broken. Alex of all people knew that fate could only be defied so many times. Whether his demise was from an outer threat or from his own compassion, if the man didn¡¯t change Nightmare would claim him eventually.


    And Alex wasn¡¯t going to stick around to force that change upon him.


    He clenched some dead grass in his fist and released it, watching it flutter. He¡¯d had a feeling it was the right call, but now it felt final, resolute.


    It had been hard to calm the passion he¡¯d felt at the man¡¯s potential, but even the greatest of material can be soiled by impatience. The sort of growth he expected from Jun could not be facilitated. His instinct as a craftsman told him to wait and see.


    As Alex sighed once more, he could tell that all traces of the battle-lust from earlier had finally faded. He hadn¡¯t been collecting clay for nothing, afterall.


    Smithing would¡¯ve been more calming, but calling a bunch of skeletons to his door had sounded counter intuitive during night-time.


    The matter was, If he wasn¡¯t in the sort of danger that required urgent vigilance or every advantage he had, Alex much preferred to let the adrenaline wash away before looking at his rewards. The system was a ruthless slaver, yes, but the bones it tossed you could taste addictively sweet after a fight like that. And that addiction¡ªmore than anything else in this cruel world¡ªwas dangerous.


    Therefore, it was with a carefully constructed sense of ease that Alex turned to his notifications.


    And instantly, that ease shattered.


    SCENARIO Two has ended! Congratulations on surviving your second night!


    You have killed:


    68 Undead Villagers


    23 Undead Adventurers


    5 Undead Captains


    1 Scenario Boss


    Your Performance has been graded at: A-


    Bonus rewards:


    Receive one Status-Recovery Potion of choice - Redeemed


    Receive one Common-Grade Weapon from the shop up to 5,000 EC in value - Redeemed


    Receive one High-Grade Potion Box-set - Redeemed


    Receive one Skill from the Shop up to 20,000 EC in value - Available


    Additional Bonus Reward: Nightmare Loot Box!


    A Nightmare Loot Box?! What¨C


    Rewards for SCENARIO 2 Completion:


    +3,000 Essence Crystals


    +1 Skill Trial Token


    Items and Potions are now for purchase in the Shop!


    [Intermediate Skills Catalog]


    100 discounted moderate-difficulty skills of all shapes and sizes! Low costs and even lower slot-equips! Would you like to download into shop interface?


    [Yes/No¨C


    Yes.


    Intermediate Skills Catalog has been downloaded!


    [Traveler¡¯s Map]


    Offers 3 alternate paths to the nearby city of Eylinorthe. Would you like to download into your UI?


    [Ye¨C


    Yes!


    Alex hurried the notification away and didn¡¯t even bother setting the map to invisible as it attached itself in the corner of his vision. He¡¯d gotten all these upgrades before in his past life, they were nothing noteworthy. Truthfully, just the loot box would¡¯ve been enough to excite him, but he¡¯d caught a glimpse of other stuff and¡ª


    You have killed Scenario Two¡¯s Boss! Additional rewards have been granted!


    [High-grade Refinement Elixir - Consumable]


    A dense supply of high-grade Aspect-Pure Aura. Designed to guide and aid Refinement in preparation for forming a Spiritual Core.


    [3 Skill-Instruction Slates]


    Creates an instruction guide to aid in learning a skill. The user must meet all known skill requirements. The user must already own the skill. Skills can be downloaded from the Personal Library. Instruction Slates will break after one use.


    Alex¡¯s breath caught. ¡®Nightmare is the gift that keeps giving¡¯ was, evidently, a phrase that meant two different things to two very different people. Either one of these rewards would have been a valuable resource outside of Nightmare, hoarded by Mage Families for only their most promising talents. And even then¡­ to get both of them¡­ it was all a suddenly stark reminder of Nightmare¡¯s purpose.


    They were one-million lambs to the slaughter, and the only purpose of their sacrifices was to create a small handful of true monsters. Camilla had been one of those monsters. And now, it seemed Alex was one too.


    Nothing made it so clear as reading the description on his final reward:


    [Path-Forger¡¯s Stone]


    Apply to a skill to create a skill path.


    That was it. No requirements, no frills. Just one word and a short explanation, and it had been like Alex had the wind knocked out of him.


    He fell back on the sloped grass and gave a weak laugh as he summoned the item in his palm. It was just a small rock, smooth like a riverstone, with a couple runes he couldn¡¯t read. And yet, it was everything.


    So this is where fate started to branch for us, huh.


    The stream bed was far enough out from the town that he had a far off view of the Guild Hall from where he lay. His eyes glazed over, remembering how he¡¯d survived in his first life. He¡¯d had his dangersense, sure, but it hadn¡¯t helped him here. His whole life on earth he¡¯d been taught that he was the crazy one, when his trait had suddenly strengthened from his awakening he¡¯d thought he must¡¯ve gone mad.


    No, the reason he¡¯d survived was due to simple luck.


    He hadn¡¯t slept that first night and he¡¯d been so exhausted from work and sleep deprived that he¡¯d just passed out at some point, hardly even drinking any water. When he¡¯d come to, he was already underground with the others.


    From there, it had simply been one thing after another, betrayal after betrayal until eventually he¡¯d stopped to look around and found he was the only one who hadn¡¯t dropped dead. There¡¯d been no breathing room for planning or plotting, he¡¯d just followed the Basic Warrior Skill-Path tee for tee, buying each one as they were offered until he¡¯d been just one step away from qualifying for the Warrior Class.


    But he knew better now.


    Information was the most hoarded resource in Nightmare, and the Basic Skill-Paths were just that¡ªbasic. Sixteen paths, eight combat and eight non-combat, and they were so limiting in every way but for their sheer convenience. If Alex had continued that path instead of screwing himself even more with a last minute switch to Blacksmith, he would¡¯ve found his potential capped at some point.


    Without aligning beneath a constellation, at least.


    The thought didn¡¯t give Alex the usual shudder. His mind felt far away from his body as he lined the stone on the ground next to the Slates, Elixir, and the Nightmare Loot Box.


    The Path-Forger¡¯s Stone did just what the name implied, it allowed one to forge their own skill path, but one without barriers that adapted to their will. Using one practically guaranteed a chained Class-Quest that could lead to better Class upgrades rather than the usual Class Quests your Foundation Class might trigger. And in a world where Class requirements and conditions for specific Class-Quest triggers were so heavily guarded, that made it an invaluable resource. Something you wouldn¡¯t expect to acquire only two days into the apocalypse.


    But the strangest part in all this wasn¡¯t that Alex had been given what he¡¯d always wished for. It was the realization that he didn¡¯t really need it anymore.


    Because for all the mistakes he¡¯d made, all the twists and thorns that lined his path, all the betrayals, he¡¯d still almost gotten there in the end. It had been right there in his grasp before¡­ well¡­ before he¡¯d been magically crippled and everyone he¡¯d cared for had been killed and everything had been ruthlessly stolen from him.


    But the point was, he knew the path now. He knew how to get [Blacksmith-Warrior] on his own, and just as his bloodline always told him, he knew that what he¡¯d always really wanted lied beyond that.


    And he still wanted it.


    He wanted the rush Lys had given him before he died, the feeling of all his parts¡ªhis warrior side, his blacksmith side, his pain and suffering, his joy and hope¡ªfor all of it to be gathered behind one attack. To become a singular existence.


    If that wasn¡¯t the enlightenment Immortals so often spoke of, he didn¡¯t know what was.


    Yet in spite of his resolution his hand still lingered there on that stone a second longer, unmoving. The urge to crush it regardless was only interrupted when an undead fish splashed onto the ground in front of him. It flopped there stupidly for a moment. Alex gave a slight chuckle as he gently pushed its fleshless carcass back into the water.


    He put the stone out of sight and into his pocket, then pulled everything he¡¯d looted from Lionheart out for inspection besides the rest of his rewards.


    [Forsaken Blade (Uncommon, D Grade)]


    A once-noble longsword that had its nature twisted alongside its owner. It now brings slow death to all it touches.


    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    Trait: Sepsis


    [Enchanted Scabbard (Common, E Grade)]


    Carved from aged oak and enchanted to fit any sword. Designed to contain and conceal aura.


    [Steel Daggers (Common)]


    Twin Daggers of fine steel.


    [Undead Bone-Fragment (Material - C Grade)]


    A bone infused with highly-condensed Essence so as to become nearly unbreakable.


    [Skill Stone - Lionheart, Lvl 17 Scenario Boss]


    Activate for a chance to obtain a randomized skill drop from an enemy.


    Alex laid those five items out for purview and kept the others in his inventory.


    Truthfully, he¡¯d actually already gotten a glimpse of everything when he¡¯d taken them from the boss¡¯s ashes and the only other noteworthy drops were a ring that gave him a [+5] boost to his strength stat, and ones to match for Perception and Lucidity, a stat he didn¡¯t even have.


    But there was a reason the world wasn¡¯t ruled by rich kids with a thousand rings on their pinky fingers, so he simply equipped the strength ring and stored the rest away for later.


    Then there was the Core his sword had eaten. That matter was entirely confusing, but he opted not to linger on it for the time being.


    So let¡¯s see¡­ what to do¡­


    Alex tapped his chin in thought, trying to figure out his next steps. But all his rewards went right past the part of his brain capable of critical thinking and straight to the part that just wanted to bask in it all. He blinked tiredly, leaning back on the grass, mind blank.


    Time passed like that. He knew because clouds had already formed in the morning sky and he¡¯d just counted his second elephant. The scent of over-charred chestnut graced his nose on a fine breeze, which was essentially nature¡¯s version of lavender or lemongrass on this dying world. A peaceful sigh escaped his lips, reminding him of days long past.


    He gave a long yawn and fell asleep.


    ***


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Alex,¡± a dwarven voice said.


    There was a thud as the forge-master sat down on the veranda beside him. His voice was a deep and gravely thing.


    ¡°Aye, I¡¯ve nothing to teach you. But I shouldn¡¯t thrown you out on yer¡¯ass like that neither. I dishonored yer¡¯ passion, and I don¡¯t take pride in it.¡±


    He spoke, but Alex was hardly listening. His mind was busy enjoying the peace of nature. From over the rolling hills the village-children¡¯s laughter filled what might¡¯ve otherwise been awkward silence and he simply lay on his back, head nestled in his palms, not bothering to turn from the sky to face the dwarf.


    Cloud-gazing never got boring on this planet.


    Hm? What¡­ an apology?


    His lazy mind slowly caught up with him.


    It¡¯s been three weeks since I¡¯ve come here, why now?


    And why does it matter, really.


    ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± Alex eventually said, ¡°Apology accepted. What you said wasn¡¯t false anyways. It''s true, I don¡¯t have much passion for the craft.¡±


    Alex waited for him to take that as the dismissal it was. They¡¯d return to their basis of the occasional half-hearted insult or grouchy comment with a healthy serving of mutual avoidance. The Dwarf would snark something about him being a lazy freeloader, stand up, leave, and that would be that.


    Just a grouchy forge-master and his unwanted apprentice who couldn¡¯t weasel his way out of an opportunity he didn¡¯t want. This would be just one amongst the innumerable odd encounters in the universe, to be forgotten in time like all the others.


    Instead, the dwarf had to speak.


    ¡°I know,¡± he said.


    Alex winced at the wistful tone, the amount of meaning behind the word.


    ¡°So you know, huh.¡±


    ¡°¡­aye, I can tell when a man is not whole.¡±


    That was enough to grab Alex¡¯s attention, so with a tired groan he sat up.


    The clouds were nice, but the gardens were beautiful as well¡ªsomething he attributed rather begrudgingly to their caretaker. The dwarf measured his stock with ancient eyes and Alex wisely dropped any obfuscation to what already must have been obvious to him by this point.


    ¡°I see,¡± he said. ¡°My hunch was right then, things just hadn¡¯t added up. Some passionless schmuck walks in, pawning what could only be a dwarvish antique off as their own and I saw red. Forgive me for getting all riled up¡ªno, nevermind forgiveness. My anger was undue and that¡¯s all. That Wyvern¡¯s blade could be crafted by none other than yourself.¡±


    Dwarvish antique¡­?


    The thought drifted languidly and Alex had half a mind to ask the obvious question, to grab at the bait dangling on the hook. But the urge just as quickly vanished amongst the clouds as he looked back up again and he responded with the same taciturn sarcasm that he usually did.


    ¡°Thanks for the compliment.¡±


    His forge-master snorted, ¡°Immortal Blacksmith or not, there¡¯s ¡®course nothing I can do for your ailment, but stupid customs¡¯n honor require I right this wrong one way or ¡®nother.¡±


    ¡°Sounds rough.¡±


    ¡°If you wish, and if you vow to secrecy, Alex, I will reveal to you the secrets of my kind, the history of the dwarven ancestors, and the truth behind your bloodline¡¯s abilities¨C¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    Alex didn¡¯t have to think long on it. There was no point to it anymore, such knowledge would only bring him pain.


    A moment passed in silence and the gravity of the situation finally soaked in, ¡°...thanks for the offer though, that¡¯s¡­ that¡¯s a lot.¡±


    His master chuffed, ¡°¡®Course it is, you ingrate. Armies have perished for the kinda information I¡¯d¡¯ve given you.¡±


    Damn, maybe I could¡¯ve sold this informa¡ªno, definitely would¡¯ve been a fool-proof vow, huh.


    Alex clicked his tongue and his master had an incredulous look on his face.


    ¡°Aye, regardless then, recompense has been offered and turned down. My honor debt has been repaid, or so the tradition goes. Now why don¡¯tcha make yourself useful or something, ya damn freeloader.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, yeah.¡±


    Alex waved him off with an eye roll and his dwarven master mumbled grumpily about the three meals a week their arrangement required him to provide.


    Alex just found himself lost in thought again. It¡¯d been almost a year since Earth¡¯s defeat, and ever since that last assault it¡¯d felt like there was a core, integral part of him missing from his soul.


    The truth was actually a lot worse than that, curse his sorry fate.


    Perhaps there was another version of his life, one where things had ended differently, where he had not been so broken. He would¡¯ve studied hard under his Dwarven master, soaked the Immortal for all the knowledge he was worth. Maybe then he¡¯d have accepted the offer. He would¡¯ve followed him down to the caverns he doubtless had beneath his house, read whatever pictographs were etched into its walls, learned the truth of the universe, and if he was lucky¡ªinherited the craft of those ancient dwarven ancestors of his.


    Maybe, but that was not his fate. His life would end with him dead in some dungeon somewhere, betrayed probably, and that would be that.


    The thought brought a tinge of sadness with it and he was more than happy to let this one float with the clouds and disappear.


    ¡°It¡¯s a shame,¡± his master said, ¡°About the sword that is. Such a strong voice and yet her master is incapable of listening.¡±


    Right, ¡®Listen¡¯.


    Alex almost scoffed as the master stalked off, and yet there was an inflection of sadness to his tone that gave him pause. That, and a memory the clouds refused to take from him.


    He lifted his wyvern-blade above his head, unsheathing a glimmering inch of it from its scabbard. And for a second, he could almost imagine a vibration there to her steel. As fanciful as it was.


    ¡®She¡¯ huh¡­.


    He put her aside and an amused smile crossed his face. Well it¡¯s a nice thought at least.


    To think that his battles weren¡¯t fought alone.


    ***


    Before Alex knew it he¡¯d been holding his Undeath¡¯s bane up to the clouds, the skies light almost leaking through the cracks along her face. Her aura had gone strangely silent since their boss fight, almost as if she¡¯d entered a hibernation of some sort, but he could still feel her there, damaged but not lost.


    He closed his eyes, reflecting on the moment he¡¯d used [sever] on the boss. Something about the skill resonated with his blade, enough to touch Lylith¡¯s Bond. He remembered the shrill pitch to her metal as it ate into the core, he imagined sadness there now. Longing, a somber desire. Maybe it was just imagination, but there was value even in that.


    He found himself in a meditative trance before he even knew it.


    Awareness and Command. One enables the other, and yet awareness itself is something that must be commanded. An endless spiral, one before the other before the one¡ªand at the center¡­ the origin of my will.


    2,600 Essence Crystals have been consumed.


    Essence swirled in Alex¡¯s spirit. He circulated it there, unbound power integrating with his soul, binding to his being, intertwining with his Vital Essence. And once he¡¯d refined it all, he looked towards his Vital Essence itself, towards the sun that was his soul.


    In the same way that every other exertion of power had a unique essence pattern to it, humans were no different. Every living creature had a unique ¡®Essence Signature¡¯ as it was called. An Essence pattern at the core of their being that made up the fabric of their soul. And as they wove more essence into that pattern, as they twisted that new essence into patterns for skills, spells, and all other powers, those new patterns change their Essence signature, shifting the fabric of their being ever so slightly.


    Alex focused on the pattern for [Sever]. He read the weave of his soul, tracing it back to the skill, grasping with his senses and reaching out for it until understanding¡ªsome semblance of it, came.


    Cleanse and Sever, they both cut from the soul.


    You have leveled up!


    +3 Arcane


    You have reached Level 15. Further leveling is impossible until you have chosen your Foundation Class.


    Please visit the Class page on your interface for eligible Classes you meet the requirements for.


    Alex opened his eyes. As he tried to sit up he found that all his new rewards had been messily strewn across his body instead of in the neat orderly piles he¡¯d left them in, as if he were an only child reliving their favorite Christmas memory.


    Right¡­ as for what to do.


    First, Alex shuffled the Refinement Elixir, Skill-Instruction Slates, and Nightmare Loot Box into one pile, categorizing them as For Later as he vanished them into his inventory. They were all immensely valuable but he hoped to leave this town within the day and he still had stuff to do.


    And unlike rewarded and scavenged loot, there was a theory that Nightmare Loot Boxes had more individualized rewards and weren¡¯t entirely random. If they had any situational use at all then he had some ideas to test that out.


    Next, he held Lionheart¡¯s Skill Stone in his palm. It was jagged around the edges but was seemingly just a normal rock except for the trace amount of essence he could sense there, but if he crushed it there would be a chance to gain one of the boss¡¯s skills.


    Hmm¡­


    These could be a tad tricky to evaluate at times. They weren¡¯t particularly rare where bosses were concerned, but the fact that it had come from a Scenario Boss generally meant it had a higher chance of giving a good skill rather than just crumbling into dust in your hand.


    But the odds of getting a skill you met requirements for or the one you wanted were still stacked against you, just by the laws of stacked luck. And it was even worse for Alex who already had a lot of the skills he needed already stashed in his Personal Library. Which was why most people sold them.


    The tricky part was that the stone¡¯s market value tended to change dramatically once it was activated. It either went way up or way down, whereas it tended to linger in the middle before its activation.


    The Necromancer boss from Scenario One had dropped one too, but Alex didn¡¯t think it would have anything of value so he¡¯d just left it for Jun. This, though¡­ he could catch a pretty penny with this once he left Nightmare.


    Alright, unactivated it is then.


    He vanished it to his inventory alongside the other items. Then he put the weapons and scabbard the boss had dropped and put them in their own separate category.


    That just left two items: Lionheart¡¯s Bone Fragment, and the Path-Forger¡¯s Stone.


    After some deliberation Alex vanished the bone fragment. Then he had the stone in his hand again, feeling its cold weight in his palm, brushing its smooth river-stone edges with his finger tips.


    Oh, the fortune you¡¯ll make me¡­


    Yet, for all he intended to sell it¡ªdespite the fact that he didn¡¯t even need it anymore¡ªthere was still an allure there to the power it held.


    In the same vein as how the skills you chose altered your individual Essence Signature, the System¡¯s Class-selection itself worked on that same basis of pattern-recognition. It read the pattern of your soul, shaped by all the skills you¡¯ve accumulated, and provided Class options that matched it.


    But what made the Path-Forger so strong is that rather than aiding you in matching your Signature to a fixed Class, it did the reverse, adapting all known Class options around your Essence Signature. It was the difference between having one or infinite options and theoretically, it was possible to get any affixable class with it if you knew what you were doing¡ªeven ones that the System hasn¡¯t even seen.


    But if I don¡¯t need it, then that¡¯s that.


    Alex sighed, vanishing it to his inventory as well.


    Deciding he¡¯d indulged himself enough today, he skipped looking at his achievements. He hadn¡¯t gotten a pop up for a new Attribute or Title so there probably wouldn¡¯t be anything important there.


    ¡°Come on,¡± he muttered, ¡°We¡¯re not having a lazy Sunday here, get your ass moving¡­¡±


    He looked at his sword one more time, wondering why the hell he¡¯d brought it out in the first place. Risky, that. He put it in his inventory as well, but with the imagery of gently placing it down rather than throwing it into storage. He liked to think it made a difference even if he knew it didn¡¯t.


    Then, deciding to stop by the forge, Alex stood and strode through the town boldly under the daylight.


    Well, ¡®strode¡¯ may have been a bit of an exaggeration. He half-ambled, half-walked, reminded very suddenly that even if the gauze he¡¯d been ¡°gifted¡± stopped Sepsis¡¯s effects, it didn¡¯t do shit for the rest of his pain. He was still covered head to toe in cuts and gashes.


    And as he walked further into town could feel plenty of eyes on him from inside their homes or behind alley corners. It wasn¡¯t as if these undead were completely fearful under the daylight. They were weaker but there was no reason they wouldn¡¯t still pick off a stray lamb.


    But at the same time, they knew who had killed their boss.


    Huh, is it just me or is there a lot less of them? Did Jun and the people he saved really get that many?


    Regardless, Alex was thankful when he reached the forge with no incident. He wasn¡¯t completely unequipped to deal with them if they got any funny ideas, but it was inideal with his HP still being unable to recover. Smithing at under 40% HP could be a very uncomfortable experience, he knew.


    Something else I¡¯ll have to amend, Alex mused. He stepped over the piles of ash right outside the doorway and absentmindedly picked out the Core he¡¯d been unable to grab from the Captain Rank undead he¡¯d killed the night before. All his joints hurt as he bent over.


    I can¡¯t wait to finally Class-up and heal all these wounds¡­


    He hadn¡¯t even needed to check his Class-Quest tab to know that Black-Smith Warrior would be listed there. Just like he hadn¡¯t needed to open it to know what that Class¡¯s Quest would be.


    He grimaced.


    It¡¯d seemed like such an easy decision to make only a night before, but¨C


    ¡°Oh, hey there. What a coincidence.¡±


    Alex flinched, reaching for his knife.


    He suddenly noticed the man sitting on a lone stool in the middle of the cluttered, battle-torn forge. The forge¡¯s door was virtually non-existent now, and yet it¡¯d taken Alex multiple seconds after entering to notice the man¡¯s presence. Even with the shimmering golden armor beneath his cloak, and the obnoxious bored smile on his face. He was the guide who had brought them to this.


    ¡°Xii-Velrick,¡± Alex scowled.


    The man narrowed his eyes for a second before regaining his casual demeanor, ¡°Strange, I thought I introduced myself as just Velrick.¡±


    Shit.


    ¡°Ah, no matter though. It¡¯s good that you¡¯re here, I was just about to come fetch you.¡±


    ¡°For?¡±


    Alex tried his best to look nonplussed. Velrick hadn¡¯t just showed up like this in his last life, it¡¯d thrown him off for a second. But then, he hadn¡¯t beaten the second Scenario in his last life either. Had something changed?


    The guide yawned, ¡°What do you mean ¡®for?¡¯¡±


    Then with the simple flick of his wrist a new notification flashed in Alex¡¯s interface. A black portal opened behind him, ¡°Let¡¯s go, we¡¯re already running late. If you straggle behind I won¡¯t leave you this time, I¡¯ll damn-well drag you through with me.¡±


    What¨C


    Blindsighted, Alex opened his interface. He read the notification over and over, trying to rationalize the absurdity of it. The gravity of the situation finally sunk in.


    Jesus Christ¡­


    ***


    Achievement Unlocked! [Confident Bastard] You took on more than ten enemies alone!


    +130 Essence Crystals


    Achievement Unlocked! [They grow up so quick] You have upgraded a skill to the Apprentice rank!


    +200 Essence Crystals


    Achievement Unlocked! [Min-Max God] You have tied all your available Essence Slots up in skills!


    + 210 Essence Crystals


    Achievement Unlocked! [I Don¡¯t Need a Pit Crew] You faced down the Scenario Boss all on your own and (assumably) survived!


    +1 Essence Crystal


    Achievement Unlocked! [Ahead of the Curve] You have Defeated a Scenario 2 Boss! You are 1 of 4,196 to have unlocked this achievement!


    + 800 Essence Crystals


    Achievement Unlocked! [Nightmare¡¯s Spawn] You have Defeated the Scenario Boss alone. You are 1 of 24 to have unlocked this Achievement.


    [Nightmare VIP Pass] has been added to your inventory.


    [Nightmare Token] x3 has been added to your inventory.


    ***


    New Notification!


    In light of your great deeds, [Invitation to The Gathering] has been added to your inventory.


    Note:


    For all who¡¯ve unlocked the [Nightmare¡¯s Spawn] Achievement, attendance to The Gathering is Mandatory.


    A System Guide will arrive to pick you up shortly.

 14 — Orange Juice

    At Velrick¡¯s insistence, Alex stepped through the portal¡¯s obsidian gate¡­


    ¡­and into a world without light. Strange, that.


    No, not strange. Wrong.


    ¡°I lied,¡± Velrick said, ¡°We¡¯re not late, we¡¯re ahead of schedule actually. About three minutes, give or take. Mind your step, it¡¯s a straight walk but if you cuff my heels I¡¯ll break you.¡±


    The entrance closed behind them, creating the sort of dark that was no different from total blindness¡ªfrom losing the sense of sight itself. Alex didn¡¯t have to look to know that there were no stars in the sky.


    This is wrong. Nightmare should have the budget for instantaneous transport. And even common channels still have stars watching overhead.


    Alex started walking. He could tell from the sound of footsteps that Velrick was not far ahead. His hackles were raised but his trait wasn¡¯t telling him he was in any sort of danger. Not physically anyways.


    That didn¡¯t reassure him. Velrick had been his guide in his last life, and Alex knew well he didn¡¯t have to raise an arm to hurt him. He didn¡¯t have to do anything in order to hurt him really, he just had to be negligent at his job. System Guides were representatives of the System itself, the power they lorded over them was no little thing, and it came with a responsibility to match.


    Negligence. Was that all it had been?


    The man yawned, and though Alex couldn¡¯t see, he still narrowed his eyes as they came to a stop.


    ¡°Two minutes now,¡± Velrick said.


    ¡°...I see.¡±


    The man started up again, not caring to elaborate. Alex followed, growing more perplexed and wary by the second. This was a private channel, he was sure of it. He had to have prepared this before he¡¯d come to pick him up.


    ¡°You¡¯re a strange one,¡± Velrick eventually said. His tone had the droll of bored small talk. ¡°You¡¯re not a mage. You have no backers. As far as we can tell you¡¯ve spent the last few months either working or bumming around the casinos. And yet, a blacksmith.¡±


    ¡°My father taught me the trade,¡± Alex said, ¡°while he was still around.¡±


    He added a sad inflection to the last part. It was the answer he¡¯d prepared in case anyone got curious, and while he hadn¡¯t thought he¡¯d need to use it, he doubted the System had so much data as to recount his whole life and disprove him.


    Velrick hmm¡¯d noncommittally, ¡°One minute now.¡±


    There was only the sound of footsteps to fill the space as they walked.


    Why does he keep mentioning the time?


    Hell, what was the need for this to begin with? Forget instantaneous transport¡ªto have a private channel in a place like Nightmare had to be ridiculously more expensive. One would think it would be used for secretive gatherings or for nefarious purposes¡ªthings that shouldn¡¯t be done under the Constellation¡¯s prying gaze. Instead, they were here just taking a leisurely stroll.


    Alex got so absorbed in his thoughts that he almost didn¡¯t notice when Velrick had stopped again. Almost. He made sure to stop short before bumping into him. If he was willing to leave a newly awakened behind in the Soul Mists for being too slow, then he didn¡¯t doubt he would break something of his if he scuffed those fine leather boots.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t ask any questions,¡± Velrick said.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Ah, there we go. But still not the right ones. Not even ¡®where are we going?¡¯ or ¡®what are we gathering for?¡¯. You were like this last night as well, no questions.¡±


    His voice was montone. Alex couldn¡¯t tell what this was without any expressions to work with. Accusatory? Suspicion? Interest?


    ¡°I¡­I didn¡¯t know I was permitted. Sir, if you could... could you possibly tell me why we¡¯re being gathered?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not at liberty to discuss that.¡±


    Then why¨C


    ¡°Still,¡± he continued, ¡°I have been assigned as your Guide, and since it seems possible that you might survive Nightmare, you should know more about what that entails. As someone who is newly integrated to the System, you have a right to a System Guide under any circumstance where the System is being utilized for contracts or stipulations of any kind, and this arrangement will be for the entirety of the Integration. I represent the System, but please understand that I am here for you, and this arrangement is for your benefit.¡±


    Hah.


    He said it all with the rhythm of a practiced recitation and Alex struggled not to roll his eyes. A moment later Velrick drew his hand down and light followed the motion as if he were drawing a zipper in empty space. His voice suddenly turned more stern as he turned to face Alex, his golden locks flowing around his face from the sudden wind.


    ¡°This is as far as I go, but let me issue a word of warning. Keep your head down. You do not want to draw attention to yourself yet, not more than you already have. And please. For the love of all primordial, do not agree to anything without me present. If you are offered sponsorship, call for me. They cannot deny me access where negotiations are ongoing.¡±


    Right, because that went so well last time.


    Alex took another step, eager to be out of the directionless dark. ¡°I¡¯ll keep that in mind.¡±


    ¡°Oh, and Alex?¡±


    ¡°Yes?¡±


    Velrick¡¯s eyes had a sardonic quality to them that his dull expression didn¡¯t reflect.


    ¡°The only type of person to not ask any questions is one who already has all the answers.¡±


    There was a sudden thrum in the air as the gate closed. A buzzing thwoom filled the space, like the sound like a vacuum being powered off and Alex was left standing dumbfounded. He cursed his poor foresight for letting his apprehension get the best of him. And after he¡¯d used the man¡¯s honorific too¡­


    But there was nothing else to make of it either. He¡¯d never managed to get a good read on Velrick in his last life, and being able to see the man¡¯s expression had done little to tell him what this was really about.


    Regardless, he¡¯d been right. Alex already knew where he was.


    The Gathering Hub.


    Admission fee: 1 Nightmare Token.


    Admission fee: Waived


    Alex centered himself then took in his surroundings. The floors were wooden with an inn-like decor that fit the time period of Nightmare, if not for its exuberant polish. The trophies decorating the walls were fresh and looked less like they would raise themselves as undead and more as if they¡¯d been hunted just yesterday.


    It shouldn¡¯t be open this early.


    The Gathering hub had its use as the only true safe haven in Nightmare, but for little good since it was only available directly after the Scenarios or on special occasions. Primarily, its purpose was as its name implied¡ªto provide neutral grounds for negotiation and trade amongst players, but he saw little point in that now, with so few of them around.


    The dining hall was beyond large, but it was completely empty but for its skeleton staff.


    They were literal skeletons, with no flesh left on their bones. There was an information desk the wall opposite to him, and a host of barmaids and chefs, innkeepers and cleaners, attendants and a scant few merchants. They all stood in unison as he took his first step. There was a red carpet laid out in front of him¡ªactually red¡ªand they formed a line to each side of it, taking a sweeping bow.


    ¡°Welcome, valued patron,¡± their voices echoed. And no matter how long Alex waited, their bow held.


    Creepy.


    Beyond so, in fact. These weren¡¯t like the undead from the night before who¡¯d retained semblance of who¡¯d they been in some perverted fashion. No, these undead would¡¯ve had their souls twisted out of shape entirely to fulfill a new persona. To the extent that they were no different from robots, or even characters in some game.


    ¡°Please, this way,¡± the attendant at the desk beckoned. Alex accepted, thankful that his sword was in slumber. He was certain she¡¯d be urging him to cleanse them all even from his inventory, and that would¡¯ve been a ridiculously bad idea.


    I wonder if this is how Camilla likes to be welcomed home.


    Heck¡­ Camilla¡­she might even be here right now. Her life before the integration was a mystery to him, but she¡¯d finished Nightmare in the top five. It wasn¡¯t hard to imagine she might have received this VIP pass as well.


    And she had to have pledged allegiance to her Constellation earlier on to get as powerful as she did.


    The constellations¡­it was not a hard conclusion to reach that they were what this was all about.


    Alex frowned at the lack of pain in his steps as he walked forwards, finding a silver lining in all this to be thankful for.


    ¡°Where are the others?¡± he asked the attendant.


    ¡°Ah yes¡ªvalued patron, you must be referring to the gathering you have been called for here today. The others have already arrived. Our coordinators don¡¯t wish to force uh¨C interaction amongst our esteemed guests if it is not wanted. You are free to mingle as you please while you wait.¡±


    Congratulations, you have been granted an opportunity to meet with the Constellations!


    Please wait, you will be received shortly.


    Queue: 24/24


    Alex looked around the empty venue in confusion.


    Well? It doesn¡¯t get much better than this. The hub had some private rooms, and perhaps a few practice ranges as well, but he couldn¡¯t think of many other places they¡¯d be holing up¡­


    ¡°Then, please show me all available lobbies.¡±


    ¡°As you wish, valued patron,¡± the attendant gave another nod and the list appeared on Alex¡¯s interface. He scrolled¡­ and¡­ scrolled? And scrolled.


    His stomach broiled and he began to feel deeply disturbed by what he found there.


    Warning. Those who enter the VIP rooms are vowed to secrecy in regards to all that they witness. You may only discuss your experience with others under similar vows.


    Do you accept these terms?


    [Yes/No]


    This is wrong. Alex found himself revolted as he responded ¡®yes¡¯.


    No, this¡­ this is so wrong.


    ***


    Nightmare wasn¡¯t just a place in Alex¡¯s mind, it wasn¡¯t just a bad memory, or a three month blip of an event to mark the start of fifteen bad years. No, it was closer to its namesake in what it represented, and though there were times that haunted his dreams with more frequency, this had been where it all started. Where they all started. Before they¡¯d grown to become the monsters they truly were, this was where those Nightmares had been born.


    Alex took a hesitant, shaky step forward as space cracked and warped around him¡ªan effect he distantly recognized to signify that he was in a pocket realm. The sky was dark here and lit torches lined the walls with fire like those from the night before.


    In some ways he¡¯d been thankful for Nightmare and its malicious cruelty. In his last life, he would¡¯ve been better off not coming in some ways, he would¡¯ve been more powerful perhaps, more stable. But in other ways it had prepared him for what was to come. It¡¯d been a harsh, but early lesson to be careful about who he trusted, and on what it took to survive in a world filled with monsters.


    Voices spoke to him as he ambled.


    Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    More undead, but their words were distant. He was too distracted to listen. Alex¡¯s gait teetered. Tall totems stood along his path, demonic carvings etched into their faces and he stared at the familiar markings in bewilderment.


    This is wrong. He thought. These shouldn¡¯t be here.


    He walked forwards regardless. His boots met the shuffling crunch of sand.


    The shore at night was a terrifying thing. The sky loomed dark with clouds overhead and there was no telling where the horizon met the ocean¡¯s depths. No telling where roaring tides met the blood-soaked sand, where riptides prowled and which step might be your last. The crash of waves could hardly be heard over the ringing of steel that night, and no amount of perception had helped Alex parse where heaven met earth, it had been an all consuming darkness.


    Even after the fighting, I had to wait until morning to know. I had to check the bodies as they washed up on the shore.


    Alex must¡¯ve slipped off his boots at some point. His feet met the cold of ocean water, pulling at the sand between his toes. Calm waters, a peaceful night, the horizon was lit by gentle torchlight, a soft acoustic strum lingered to his ears and someone offered him a drink. It took him a while to remember where he was.


    This is Nightmare.


    [Room 12 - Hawaiian Tiki Bar]


    Youthful women wore grass around their waists as they danced¡ªthey did not look undead, their flesh did not rot when they smiled at him, but it was all the same. A man Alex recognized but had hardly spoken to lounged on a beach chair nearby. He raised his coconut and flashed a friendly smi¡ª


    No.


    Space cracked around him as he left the realm.


    He¡¯d selected ¡°Olympic Swimming Pool¡±, a part of him still in denial. A part of him hoping it wouldn¡¯t be so.


    Elizabeth Ainsworth, Heir of the Golden Dawn, eventual Godhand of the 13th Celestial Order, swam the butterfly. She suddenly stopped, as if sensing the disturbance in space and turned to give him a questioning look.


    Alex gave a brisk nod, a brief wave, and noped the fuck out of there.


    A Southern bar. A Spanish Nightclub. A Scottish pub. Food Courts. High End Restaurants. A horse range with skeletal mounts. Brothels.


    Alex now sat at a pristine, white-clothed table, joined by two others beneath the late-dawn sun. It had a gentle heat to it, not overbearing, but not to be overpowered by the morning¡¯s light wind either. Surrounding him was healthy, green grass that swayed in the breeze and an immaculate garden whose roses still dripped with dew. All was in perfect harmony, serene and tranquil.


    But Alex remembered it still.


    He remembered the burn-scarred man sitting atop an army of corpses on the dawn of their defeat. He¡¯d had the red eyes of a demon and the beating heart of Earth¡¯s Guardian in his left hand. And when he¡¯d crushed it, he¡¯d sent a pulse of energy across the horizons that painted the skies in blood. He was Alex¡¯s eternal reminder of the things monsters were capable of¡ªthe man who had killed the Undead King and beaten Nightmare¡ªhe, who had been the first to achieve the title of Immortal.


    Zhao Yuxuan held no denotion of being the same man who haunted his dreams.


    He had no scars, and his eyes were black and human. His expression was placid, unbothered by the others at the table as he plopped three sugar cubes into his earl grey. Then he made a strange face as if it were too sweet.


    Some men faced their demons with bravado. Alex simply stirred his lavender tea with a small spoon, set it down on its plate, and lifted the ceramic cup to his lips. His eyes were on the clouds, reminded of those days he¡¯d spent under his master on a distant planet.


    Looking back, they may have been the most peaceful he had ever known.


    One more cup. One more cup, then I can leave. As is natural. Polite.


    Yuxuan dipped a biscuit in his tea and ate it. He swept the crumbs into the grass, his eyes sharp but distant, his motions quick and flawless. He didn¡¯t move without purpose, he didn¡¯t give anything away. And Alex¡¯s trait didn¡¯t warn him of danger, instead it did something new again, and this time he could understand what it was telling.


    I know. This man is Earth¡¯s end.


    But Alex¡¯s attention didn¡¯t linger too strongly on the man.


    Sure, it lingered a small amount, a perceptible amount, but none more. Instead he watched the clouds drift up above. No elephants today, and somehow they never seemed to block out the sun in their drift. He sipped his tea, names coming to mind. Good women and men. They¡¯d trusted him.


    The sky pulsed, and then darkened to the color of blood.


    ¡°God! This is so fucking boring!¡± the third man exclaimed. His name was Luan, a tan wolf-shifter who had finished near the top fifteen in Nightmare¡¯s rankings. Alex had to push his mind to recall much about him.


    He¡¯d been at this table before Alex had come and had been bouncing his knee impatiently the entire time. He stopped suddenly, pushed his chair out and stalked off, ¡°I¡¯m gonna have some real drinks if anyone wants to join me!¡±


    The air shattered around him, leaving small cracks in the space he¡¯d occupied that slowly started to heal and close. But Alex was not one to waste a good excuse. He sipped the last of his tea, pinkie lifted for the hell of it, and then placed his cup down on the table.


    ¡°Yeah, I could go for a change in scenery,¡± he said to no one in particular.


    The betrayer gave an imperceptible nod and Alex walked into those cracks in space, following the wolf-man to gods only knew where.


    ***


    [Room 86 - Brazilian Pub]


    So I guess Camilla probably isn¡¯t here then.


    Alex hadn¡¯t checked the casinos, he supposed, but the prospect seemed unlikely. In the last hour he¡¯d gone from room to room and had come across nineteen others in that time. Most he¡¯d recognized. Some he hadn¡¯t. A few of them likely didn¡¯t make it out of Nightmare, it was known to happen.


    Regardless, no matter who he saw and where, Alex did not draw needless attention to himself. He¡¯d been quick to adjust to his new reality, and after the swimming pool fiasco he¡¯d molded himself to be as inconspicuous and forgettable as possible. And even if that meant having tea-time with a literal world-ender, it did not matter, Alex kept his composure in check.


    Until now.


    He stopped cold as he entered the room, his trait shivering at a distant memory as he noticed the woman in the corner.


    Twenty now, Alex noted.


    He took note, that was all he did. He didn¡¯t draw his shattered sword and plunge it through the bitch¡¯s gut. He didn¡¯t cry out and turn to flee. Both urges overtook him for a brief second but he swallowed them, locked them up in that dark place in his mind. Let them pass and drift in peace.


    Zhao Yuxuan had been so far beyond them that his betrayal felt almost impersonal in a sense. Like a natural disaster destroying your whole world, he¡¯d been an incomprehensible terror, shapeless in form and hard to rationalize.


    But he wasn¡¯t the only Nightmare to haunt his dreams. There were others, ones that were more tangible, more personal, more outrageous¡ªmore unforgivable¨CI¡¯ll wrap my hands around your fucking neck!


    And squeeze until I hear the snap of¡ª!!


    Alex hardly finished the thought before the room broke out in fight. But it wasn¡¯t him who couldn¡¯t keep their composure.


    ¡°LUAN!¡± The vampiric bitch lunged at the man where he stood at the bar.


    His ears perked up at the motion but his back had been turned. He was defenseless, and her nails were sharpened to a knife¡¯s point. She moved faster¡ªmuch faster than Alex¡¯s eyes could perceive. She closed in, her fingers pricking the nape of his neck¡ª


    And then they stopped there. Luan gave a delayed reaction.


    ¡°Oh, hey Ana,¡± he said, turning.


    He waved his hand in front of her face, but her expression was frozen. Then a timer appeared above her head and she disappeared. He turned to Alex, forking his thumb towards the empty space where she¡¯d been.


    ¡°Crazy right? They gave me one of those when I tried to fight the gray wolf earlier.¡±


    Luan laughed, and Alex slowed his hammering heart to a less suspicious cadence. A distant part of his mind recognized the moniker ¡®Gray Wolf¡¯ and his mental count ticked up to twenty one.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± he responded, ¡°That¡¯s¡­ just, yeah¡­crazy...¡±


    Good, he thought. You¡¯re shaken. But not too shaken. You haven¡¯t led a life exposed to violence. Quiver your hand slightly.


    That last part was easy enough. The fact that Alex hadn¡¯t lunged for the woman had less to do with self control and was more because he already knew this was a no-conflict zone.


    ¡°Gods,¡± he muttered, ¡°I could use a drink¡­¡±


    ¡°Hah! Who wouldn¡¯t after all this? Hey ¡®tender!¡±


    The man behind the bar stopped polishing his glass and perked up, ¡°Esteemed patron, what can I get you?¡±


    ¡°Not me,¡± Luan said.


    ¡°Orange juice,¡± Alex said.


    He walked up to the bar. He hadn¡¯t meant to make that complaint out loud, but now that he had he¡¯d just act natural about it.


    ¡®Orange juice¡¯ though¡­


    ¡°On the rocks,¡± he added quickly. ¡°With whiskey. And none of that cheap shit. I¡¯m talking Columbia George, not Florida¡¯s Natural. High pulp.¡±


    The bartender mixed Alex¡¯s drink to order. Luan looked at him strangely but some things couldn¡¯t be helped. Tropicana was all he could get in Dykriest and Alex had been lucky to find even that after the purge.


    ¡°It¡¯s been¡­ a rough few days,¡± he explained.


    A flimsy excuse, but even normal people had their quirks. It would do.


    And for all intents and purposes, Alex was normal. At least compared to these people. They had all been born into this world of magic¡ª heirs and heiresses, all of them¡ª born to the very same ¡®world leaders¡¯ who¡¯d agreed to all this. Violence was not new to them, even if they hadn¡¯t known it on the scale of the apocalypse. And they were all dangerous in their own ways.


    Even Luan.


    He¡¯d by far been the most personable Alex had come across, but he didn¡¯t mistake it for true friendliness. The man had long, unkempt ginger hair with a patch in the middle that was black and was built with both an acrobat¡¯s length and the lean-muscled stock of a wolf. He had the air of a wild beast about him, yet moved with the gracefulness of a prodigious talent. Even were Alex at his strongest, Luan was the kind of person he would¡¯ve avoided.


    Well, they all were really. For all that it seemed to work out for him.


    Alex swirled his glass, all too aware that Luan was watching him. His gaze was predatory, even if not hostile, and its prick lingered on his neck. He¡¯d ordered a beer and took a sip, asking the bartender to put on some football. Alex took a sip of his own drink, a tad disgusted at the pairing of pulp and whiskey.


    His heartbeat was approaching normal levels now, but Luon had shown keen hearing earlier so he didn¡¯t let it quite stabilize. He swirled his glass again, not bothering to hide that he was lost in thought.


    It had all happened so fast, he hardly had time to process everything. But Christ, an Olympic swimming pool. In Nightmare.


    And the Godhand had been swimming in it!


    It all sounded like a sick joke. And actually, he supposed it might¡¯ve really been one. She¡¯d been swimming the butterfly too¡­


    Alex almost grimaced at the botched first impression, even if it was better than the one from his last life. He¡¯d met too many Nightmares in the last hour and it was beginning to tax on his mental state. But despite what Velrick had said about keeping his head down, Alex knew he had to show his face here. Sooner or later his name would appear on the leaderboards, and an inconsequential impression to match it was far safer for him than being an unknown threat.


    Honestly, Camilla¡¯s probably the least of my worries right now. Why am I so focused on her?


    Well that was no mystery. You spend a few weeks obsessing over a woman and it¡¯s hard to get her out of your mind afterwards.


    Alex sloshed his glass, downing the rest whole.


    He peered subtly, but not-so-subtly at the man next to him. Opened his mouth, then closed it with obvious hesitance. It was time to start asking questions.


    ¡°Luan¨C¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re doing it again,¡± the man said.


    Luan didn¡¯t turn from the screen. A match was being replayed between two Brazilian teams Alex couldn¡¯t place, but he thought he sensed some melancholy from him at that moment.


    ¡°Doing what?¡±


    ¡°I can smell it, you know. The fear.¡±


    He thumbed his nose, bearing a sharp toothy grin and Alex¡¯s heart skipped a small beat.


    Wait, had he been bailing me out earlier?


    ¡°And hey, look. It¡¯s not like I don¡¯t get it. That guy out there? You¡¯d be stupid not to fear him. The vamp? Eh, debatable, but she¡¯s not a looker I¡¯ll give you that. Me? There¡¯s nothing to fear, kid. I don¡¯t bite on the first meet.¡±


    ¡­Kid?


    Alex¡¯s mind took a brief pause before he remembered his age. Well, that made things a little easier in some ways. Fucking whiskey and orange juice, he could see the angle now.


    ¡°I am not afraid!¡± Alex snarled.


    Luan returned it with a deep, guttural growl of his own. ¡°Don¡¯t take that tone with me, pup.¡±


    He¡¯d stood suddenly, slamming his gruff hands onto the bar top. Glass shattered under his palm, making Alex flinch. It was a subtle expression, brief, and quickly covered by sullen acquiescence as he clicked his tongue.


    Still, it was enough to make Luan drop his hostility when he saw it.


    Alex was just that in his eyes now, a pup. One with exceptional talent, sure¡ªbut a pup nonetheless. He was a mundane, someone who¡¯d lived in an entirely different world from him. A pup should know their place. Alex showed too much belligerence, but it came from a place of ignorance so it was to be pitied and not to be taken as an insult.


    And though Alex had never met the man in person, he was starting to get a feel for who Luan was.


    Surely, he would¡¯ve accepted nothing but utter docility from his pack, but now he looked almost guilty for yelling at him.


    ¡°Hahhh, don¡¯t be so stiff! Don¡¯t tell me your dad never beat you?¡±


    He slapped Alex on the back jovially, hard enough to knock some air out of him, sending him into a coughing fit.


    Good, this was the right balance with shifters. You did not want to challenge their authority, but if you were too weak they would not respect you and that was worse. Fear¡ªin small amounts at least¡ªwas proving useful here. And it was genuine, to be frank.


    The sort of sizzling hatred he¡¯d felt earlier would¡¯ve been much harder to explain, had he picked up on it.


    Alex quickly recovered from his coughing spasm and Luan scratched his head in befuddlement before his expression lit up, ¡°Ah, I know what will loosen you up. How about a friendly bet?¡±


    His eyes found the Snooker board in the bar¡¯s empty center, they gleamed with eagerness.


    ¡°I¡­no, I¡¯ve been trying to abstain from gambling late¨C¡±


    ¡°Hey, bartender! We could use a switch up!¡±


    ¡°Of course, esteemed patron.¡± The bartender tapped something in front of him and swiped his hand and the Snooker table was switched out for Billiards.


    ¡°There! That should be more your speed. So how about it?¡±


    ¡°Billiards?¡± Alex felt his resolve cracking a little, ¡°Are you sure?¡±


    What could he possibly think he could get from me? Essence Crystals? Information?


    Gambling was something that tended to go well for Alex¡ªuntil it suddenly didn¡¯t. The house of cards always collapses eventually. Despite his reservations he found himself following Luan regardless, and as they reached the table a smile cracked his face. The man was holding up a 10 Real bill and scratching his head again.


    ¡°Damn, that¡¯s less than I thought¡­¡±


    Alex shook out his own wallet, two dollars and some change clattering onto the table.


    ¡°You and me both,¡± he said.


    They looked at eachother, shared a deep laugh, and then got to playing. Billiards. Here, of all places. It was so hilariously outrageous that it took Alex a second to realize his laugh was genuine.


    Nightmare. What a joke.


    Your Queue to meet with the Constellations has moved up!


    [12/12]


    Expected wait time: One hour, twenty-three minutes.

 15 — A Dangerous Game

    The Pool scene in Seattle hadn¡¯t been anything so grand like what you¡¯d find further out into the country or even in shit-hole Orange County, but when a place did have a table you could always count on finding someone on the other side of it.


    The bar Cameron worked at had been like that, and Alex and a few others had often lingered around, waiting until he got off. Well before he¡¯d turned twenty-one if he was being honest. So when Luan had switched his Snooker table for Alex¡¯s Pool, he knew he couldn¡¯t let that handicap sit uncontested.


    ¡°I¡¯ll spot you two balls,¡± he said, ¡°To even things out a little.¡±


    It was the fairest way to handicap a game of Eight-ball in his opinion. That way the balls stayed on the table, but whether Luan played stripes or solids, he¡¯d be able to take a shot on the eight-ball two balls earlier than Alex could.


    The lean, wolfish man slammed his 10 Real bill onto a high-top table next to Alex¡¯s pitiful sum, then bared his teeth in a dangerous grin, ¡°Rather cocky, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    Cocky? Yeah that sounds about right.


    Mages and otherwise tended to view the world of ¡®Mundanes¡¯ as smaller than the one they knew, so it only went to figure that Alex would be the cream of the crop of what it had to offer. A normal person who found himself amongst you Nightmares wouldn¡¯t be completely normal, would he?


    Plus, Luan was a shifter. There was no doubt that his senses were keen, but most clans hung around their territory in the wilderness, not in civilized bars. Alex would put decent odds to him besting the man, for all that it mattered.


    ¡°I¡¯ll give you first break as well,¡± he added. ¡°First to three games wins.¡±


    Luan huffed derisively.


    Then he grabbed his wooden cue and leveled it on the bridge of his hand, peering down its length. His eyes narrowed with a predator¡¯s focus. His arms were muscled and lanky and his fingers grisled and slender. He placed the cue ball off to the side, lined up his shot, and then stopped.


    Everything seemed to go still for a second. The bossa nova playing from the speakers overhead seemed distant, as if sound had been sucked out of the room. Then the ball shot forth and with a barrage of dull clinks, Alex watched the array of balls spread across the table.


    And as the eight-ball in the center rolled slowly into the middle pocket, he ate his words and tasted immediate regret for them on his tongue like something sour. Luan was better than him.


    Right, it would be strange if he wasn¡¯t. That¡¯s fine. Better this way, probably.


    Bar rules dictated that pocketing the eight-ball on the break shot was an instant win, so Alex reached over to gather them for the next round. He was stopped.


    ¡°WPA rules,¡± Luan said. He beamed at Alex as he fetched the eightball from its pocket and placed it back on the table. ¡°And, I¡¯ll spot you two.¡±


    Alex grimaced.


    Then he remembered that he was playing over a pot of roughly 4$ in dead currency, and against a man that could kill him in a second if they were anywhere else but here.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± he grumbled. The game began in earnest.


    As Luan continued his run, Alex started to get a better grip on his skill level and started to relax. The shifter¡¯s senses lent themselves well to the accuracy of his shots, but he didn¡¯t seem particularly strategically minded. His positioning was nothing to write home about at least, and outside of the odd practiced trick shot or two, it was becoming clear that he wasn¡¯t up against a professional or anything of the like.


    Granted, Luan was well above Alex¡¯s level of play all the same.


    It wasn¡¯t as if Alex was concerned that being trounced in a game of pool would make him look too weak or anything. Not more than playing one while covered in gauze tape and bandages already did, but it was reassuring that he¡¯d at least get to play a more even game.


    He watched as Luan lined up his next shot with the same fervent intensity that he¡¯d shown earlier. It seemed to come naturally to him. But when he¡¯d sunk his second stripe just a moment before he¡¯d found his path unfortunately crowded by Alex¡¯s solids, and his third shot went nowhere. He ended his run with only two sunk balls and handed the turn off to Alex.


    They didn¡¯t speak much, and Alex soon found himself lost in the atmosphere of the pub.


    There was just something about it.


    The upbeat jazz played by soft horns, the smell of polished wood. An empty bar, like the one he¡¯d lingered by just after closing, playing pool or darts with his first real friends. Or maybe it¡¯s the fact that I¡¯m acting my age. It all just took him back to a time that was much simpler.


    He hopped one leg onto the table¡¯s ridge, reading the layout of the balls and tried to calculate ahead the best he could. He saw a way he could potentially sink four balls this run, but Luan¡¯s last stroke had sent the cue ball to a tricky location. Alex would need a masse shot here, something that required a near 90¡ã perpendicular stroke to put enough side spin on the ball. And he was many¡­ many years out of rust for something like that.


    No, there are other ways.


    But Alex supposed he just wanted his masse shot. So he would have it.


    Clink!


    He smiled, then stretched the rueful expression into something more vain as he let the game settle into the background of his mind. He was feeling strangely relaxed by this all, but he hadn¡¯t suddenly gone stupid. Alex could still feel the shifter¡¯s quiet gaze split between him and the table, and the question still remained. Why was Luan giving him the time of day?


    He didn¡¯t buy for a second that his only reason was boredom.


    Alex lined up his cue, a look of concentration on his face as he mimed his stroke, then pocketed his second ball. Velrick¡¯s parting words echoed again in his head. He was starting to think they¡¯d been a warning. Too much inconspicuousness was suspicious, and in hindsight it was easy to see where he¡¯d messed up. But he was well aware of that now, and had made sure to adjust his behavior for all the other nightmares before this.


    Alex walked around to the other side of the table, setting up his next shot. He glanced up at the man.


    Luan hadn¡¯t spoken in some minutes. He was clearly waiting for something, taking Alex¡¯s measure. He¡¯d rolled the ball into Alex¡¯s court, quite literally, and he had to choose now what to do with it.


    But why?


    It didn¡¯t matter, that wasn¡¯t a question this Alex would ask.


    ¡°So¡­ a werewolf,¡± he started instead, ¡°Like¡­ in the movies?¡±


    The cue ball bounced off the cushion at a trajectory slightly off from what he¡¯d wanted. His turn came to an end.


    Luan laughed. ¡°Hah! No, not¡­ well, I guess some of them are like that. Maybe not so much ¡®rip their shirts off and howl at the moon¡¯ but the Grey Wolves hold a lot more sway in media than the rest of us. What you¡¯ve seen isn¡¯t really representative. Really, not all shifters are wolves y¡¯know? I come from a clan of Maned Wolves and the subject is¡­a little hot amongst my pack.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡±


    Alex understood what he was saying. Maned Wolves, despite their naming, weren¡¯t actually wolves. They were a species of their own genus, and as far as the larger shifter clans were concerned, lesser for it.


    If Alex recalled correctly, conflicts had largely forced them to roam the outskirts of the South-American highlands.


    Closer to human society¡­


    Luan sank another striped ball, putting a superfluous amount of spin on his shot.


    ¡°So what¡¯s your story?¡± Luan asked, ¡°You look fancy with your slacks and tie and all, but a working man doesn¡¯t just wake up and face the apocalypse, eh?¡±


    Alex hummed his agreement. A low-ball for a low-ball. It was a fair enough question, even if he really was just your average nine-to-five call-center salesman. In this life.


    ¡°My Dad was proficient in mixed martial-arts,¡± Alex said, ¡°He was¡­ harsh in his training, and he¡¯d run a dojo out of our downstairs ever since I can remember. At least while he was still around¡­¡±


    He added a sad inflection to that last part and hoped that Luan could only sniff out fear and not bullshit.


    ¡°Hah! You expect me to believe throwing hands on the mat prepared you for Nightmare? Enough to kill one of those Boss things alone?¡±


    Luan gave a derisive snort but the tone of his voice was disbelieving, not accusatory, so Alex decided his story was good enough. He wasn¡¯t about to lavish it and make himself some young prodigious CIA agent or anything.


    Though¡­


    ¡°I¡¯m not happy about any of this,¡± Alex said, ¡°But I wasn¡¯t happy with my life back on Earth either. And this power¡­ this feeling¡ªlike having raw energy rushing through your veins its¨C¡±


    ¡°Really something, ain¡¯t it? Just don¡¯t let it control you, that¡¯s how you end up dead, kid. Eight-ball. Corner pocket.¡±


    Luan leaned over the table, his expression unreadable. Then just as he¡¯d called, he sunk the eight ball into its pocket, taking the first game for himself.


    ¡°You¡¯re not a bad shot, but this is still a little unfair isn¡¯t it? How about this. I race to three, all the same. But if you win two games, we¡¯ll call it your victory. Sound good?¡±


    Alex smirked something nasty. ¡°You give me too many handicaps and you might regret it, old man. Don¡¯t complain when I start giving you a run for your money.¡±


    ¡°Hah! You¡¯d fit right in with my pack with that kind of attitude!¡±


    Luan laughed as he scavenged the balls from their pockets and set them up for him.


    Truthfully, Alex didn¡¯t think he was capable of getting the man to eat his words. But there were still ways to make the game harder for someone who was better than you. He¡¯d go light on his break shot, keep the balls in a cluster. Rather than try for unlikely run-outs, he¡¯d focus on hindering Luan¡¯s own streaks. He¡¯d slow the pace of the game and drag the man down with him. It was rarely the faster horse that fought better in the mud, Alex was certain he could at least take a game off him like that.


    Hm¡­ ¡®fit in with his pack¡¯. I wonder if that was some subtle invitation.


    Alex doubted it was anything more than just small talk, but the more he talked to the man, the more he was starting to remember about him.


    Luan had finished near the top of Nightmare¡¯s Rankers, and it spoke highly of his skills that he did so without the backing of a major faction. The Maned Wolves were a fairly small clan compared to other shifters, and if he recalled correctly, he didn¡¯t have their full support either.


    Yet for all his prodigious talent, Luan had died before the Invasion had even started. It only figured that Alex didn¡¯t know much about him.


    ¡°Solids,¡± Alex called. He used a follow shot and the cue ball followed its momentum after making contact. He pocketed his first solid, and now the cue ball was lined up for an easy pocket on his number seven. But that ball was also blocking a pocket for one of Luan''s shots, so he kept it there and went for another instead.


    Somehow, they¡¯d settled into a strange sort of rhythm. Whoever held the stick was the one who asked the questions. And on that battlefield at least, slowing the pace was not the answer.


    ¡°Is your group one of the ¡®world leaders¡¯ who caused all this?¡± Alex asked.


    The mood seemed to shift.


    ¡°The Maned Wolves were some of the first to support the Integration. What about it?¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± Alex snarled.


    ¡°Why not? Now take your damn shot kid.¡±


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    Alex did. He sank a third ball with a bank shot, though it left him with no clear follow ups to continue his streak. Luan scratched his head and sighed.


    ¡°Terraformation, mostly,¡± he said, ¡°There¡¯s other reasons, but it came at a good time for us. We¡¯d been in talks with some neutral organizations about setting up a wildlife preserve, but those fell through, and with the deforestation we would¡¯ve died out sooner or later. Don¡¯t expect an apology from me, kid. I look after my own.¡±


    Alex frowned as if only half of that made sense to him, then he slowly worked his way down from anger to an even more sullen acquiescence. It was about what he¡¯d expected to hear, all told. Terraformation was a common reason for most shifter clans, and he couldn¡¯t say it was entirely without reason.


    Annoyingly, Alex deemed it necessary to put a slight quiver in his stroke, as if he were still holding back his anger. But it was a safety shot and the purpose was to put the cue ball somewhere unsavory for the man. It didn¡¯t need a whole ton of accuracy.


    Still, I never knew about the preservation efforts. Is that why he¡¯s so good at billiards?


    Alex had half a mind to gander that it was also the reason Luan didn¡¯t have all the Maned Wolves at his back. It had seemed nonsensical from an outside perspective that a small clan wouldn¡¯t back such a prodigious talent, but if it was because he¡¯d been ¡®fraternizing with the humans¡¯ then he could see that happening. A wildlife preserve on that scale would¡¯ve taken years of networking to set up, and a lot of shifter clans could be oldminded like that.


    And standing across from the man, Alex couldn¡¯t help but wonder. That if he¡¯d had his clan¡¯s support¡­


    Ahh¡­ What a waste.


    Still, he relished the fact that his tactics had thrown Luan off his game. Or perhaps it had just been the question itself.


    In any case, the man attempted a jump shot to have the cue ball circumvent the blockade Alex had set up. And he¡¯d landed it too. Just¡­ not with enough proper execution for it to be legal. Alex didn¡¯t hesitate to call foul on the man for it, he was eager for the advantage. Oh, and still spiteful that he¡¯d caused the apocalypse, important to let that leak through. Not that the System was known for its bright alternatives.


    Luan handed Alex the cue ball and he placed it where he pleased.


    He pocketed one ball, then placed another safety shot to block the eight ball from its nearest pocket. Unless Luan was a magician he wouldn¡¯t be getting a run-out and finishing the game with just his next turn. But wisely, Alex still decided not to ask any questions in hopes that the man would go easy on him when he held the stick. Then he watched as Luan finished his turn with a five-pocket run.


    Those hopes were immediately crushed. ¡°I told you I can smell fear, didn''t I?¡±


    Alex stiffened and Luan thumbed his nose again, a playful scowl there. ¡°And I¡¯ve never smelt it so thick as when you sat across the table from Yuxuan. Which would make sense if you¡¯d known who he was, but you claim you don¡¯t. Alex, are you really normal?¡±


    Alex struggled not to wince.


    Yes. I am.


    But he was pretty certain by now that the man couldn¡¯t smell truth from a lie, he¡¯d need more than that if he wanted Luan to believe him.


    ¡°No,¡± Alex said, ¡°Not truly. Ever since I was young I¡¯ve had a¡­ kind of a sixth sense. I can tell when bad things are going to happen before they ever do. Or when a person is dangerous or poses a threat to me. That man¡­ I¡¯ve never felt it so intensely as when I stared into his eyes.¡±


    Those blood red, demonic eyes. Alex grimaced, and cut his wandering mind short of its dark path. For all intents and purposes, it wasn¡¯t really what Luan wanted to know. Alex was at the peak of nightmare, of course he had inborn talents. He was curious about his affiliations, not about his dangersense, but he could just feign ignorance on that part.


    This¡­ isn¡¯t too risky, he reminded himself.


    Alex didn¡¯t like letting people know about his dangersense, but Luan didn¡¯t seem like the type to talk. and even if he had reason to let Alex¡¯s information spill, he didn¡¯t have many allies to blab to. The secret would likely die with him in the South Americas before long, none the wiser.


    He still didn¡¯t like how vulnerable it made him feel.


    Alex pocketed his fifth cue ball and called, ¡°Middle pocket.¡± Then shot the Eight ball in after it, gripping the cue stick tightly. He had to give up something in this exchange, but it just felt wrong telling anyone he didn¡¯t trust about that. It made him want to scream.


    Forget the skill gap.


    Alex was going to take those two balls Luan spotted him and shove them where the light didn¡¯t reach. They were tied now, and he¡¯d take this two-game handicap bullshit with glee. He was going to make the man eat his words with this next win. Dead currency or not, that money was his. He fucking swore it.


    Alright, let¡¯s relax now. He¡¯s already opened the floodgate for politics, we can use that.


    ¡°So,¡± Alex started as he set the rack for Luan, ¡°There¡¯s twenty-three people here that are cooler than me, and they¡¯re probably better at pool too.¡±


    It wasn¡¯t a question, and the last part wasn¡¯t the slightest bit true, but it was as clear an invitation as Alex would give him. He¡¯d either state his reason for being here or he wouldn¡¯t.


    ¡°Mmh.¡± The man grunted as if he didn¡¯t disagree with the statement, ¡°And I already know most of them. Or at least don¡¯t have trouble placing the factions of the ones I don¡¯t. There¡¯s only two people here who are unfamiliar to me, and one of them hasn¡¯t left the food hall since the gathering started! You don¡¯t disrupt a man when he¡¯s feasting.¡±


    Ah, him. Yeah, I¡¯d imagine he¡¯s still in there.


    Luan sighed, ¡°To get to the point, I¡¯m looking for allies. My clan is as old as the hills themselves, but we¡¯re a lot less established in today¡¯s climate and that needs to change. No one really knows what the Integration will bring, and if I can¡¯t find allies within the factions then I¡¯ll have to look without.¡±


    Alex mulled that over for a second and inwardly, found himself kind of impressed by the man. Despite Luan¡¯s gruff demeanor, his open-mindedness in allies painted him as quite the forward thinker, and not just by the standards of shifters.


    Alex lifted the wooden rack from the array of balls, a sly smirk on his face. ¡°Looking for me?¡±


    ¡°Hah! Don¡¯t flatter yourself pup, you¡¯re a long way from making something of yourself. Something that isn¡¯t a corpse at least! If you survive? then come find me. You¡¯re good for a game of pool if not anything else! Though I¡¯d like to see you try your hand at sinuca.¡±


    He barked some laughter at his insults, then quickly took his break shot. A few follow-up shots saw him with three solids in pocket before his turn ended. And perhaps he did have some decency to him, as he hadn¡¯t asked any questions this time after what Alex had revealed to him with the last.


    Luan¡¯s mind for strategy was as blunt as ever, however. And Alex was starting to think it wasn¡¯t that he was incapable of playing a smart game of pool, just that he didn¡¯t care to. He didn¡¯t need to, really, when his skills alone were enough to coast him through this match up.


    Brazil, huh. It¡¯s a long ways out just for a game of¨C


    Alex froze. He quickly smoothed the reaction over, taking his shot.


    ¡®Just for a game of pool¡¯ my ass. Fuck me, why didn¡¯t I think about this more clearly?


    The terraformation had actually done well for the Maned Wolves, Alex knew. At first at least, it¡¯d gone a little too well.


    They¡¯d received the kind of good fortune that got the whole world looking at your territory. And because of it, their eradication had been a ruthless and efficient slaughter. Over the course of just a single week, a shifter clan of ancient roots had been completely wiped out. No survivors.


    Luan wasn¡¯t weak, Alex knew that. His reputation by that time had grown to the magnitude that the Maned Wolves could no longer be ignored by the world. Even when facing overwhelming force on all sides and dealing with internal friction within his clan¡ªeven when he¡¯d had so few allies to his name¡ªLuan had managed to hold out an entire week. And from that perspective a week was an astounding amount of time.


    And by the end of that week, the clan¡¯s sudden disappearance wasn¡¯t something that could be quietly swept under the rug. It¡¯d become known that something valuable had been found in their territory, even if what exactly it was didn¡¯t make the rounds until much later. But if Alex wanted the Integration to go his way¡­


    Yeah, looks like I¡¯ll need to take this game more seriously after all.


    ¡°How about a bet,¡± Alex said.


    ¡°A bet? You act like my ten Real bill is worth nothi¨C¡±


    ¡°If you win this game,¡± Alex interrupted, ¡°I¡¯ll come visit you, and I¡¯ll bring a gift equal to the entire fortune of your clan.¡±


    ¡°Hah! And where¨C¡±


    ¡°But if I win, you¡¯ll come visit me, and you¡¯ll help in a task of my choosing.¡±


    Luan paused, then growled, a low pitch rising in his throat with a furious temper. ¡°I do not take disrespect lightly, pup. Do not interrupt your betters. You can take your shoddy bet and shove it up¨C¡±


    ¡°I swear these terms on my True Name.¡±


    Luan stopped cold at the mention. His expression was blank and Alex simply gestured to the table, as if to say they should let that decide who was whose better. You did not challenge a shifter¡¯s authority, he knew. Not if you wanted to survive. But if you wanted them to follow your commands then there was no way around it.


    ¡°You¡¯re a wolf in sheep''s clothing, I hope you know.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I know.¡±


    ¡°Then I¡¯ll swear on mine as well,¡± he growled, ¡°You hope you have the skills to back this up, because I¡¯m not going easy anymore.¡±


    Yeah, I know.


    Personally, Alex would¡¯ve likened himself to a sheep in wolf''s garb, but he didn¡¯t bother with the correction. Luan calling him a wolf was either an acknowledgement of high respect or a sign of extreme distaste, and he didn¡¯t care which, both were equally dangerous.


    But you risk nothing, you gain nothing. It was the way of the house. Alex turned his attention back towards the game.


    This game had been Luan¡¯s turn to break, and after Alex had controlled the pace of the last game by creating a cluster, the man had made certain to hit his breakshot hard, spreading both solids and stripes to the far corners of the table. It would be hard for Alex to slow the game by this point with his safety shots.


    Additionally, the arrangement benefitted Luan more since he was a far more accurate shot than Alex. And given that the man just spent his last turn dealing with the only real clusters he had, he was a straight five-ball run from ending this game. Something he was no doubt capable of once it became his turn.


    Alex was also a five-ball run away from the same, thanks to his handicap, but that didn¡¯t hold the same weight for him as it did for Luan.


    Once, during a time when Alex hadn¡¯t been so rusty, perhaps he might¡¯ve gone for it anyways.


    Yet, although his mind was sharper now, his muscles didn¡¯t know the game the way his eyes did. He could see countless routes to his victory, but he knew that somewhere before that fifth shot he would take a miss.


    No, if he wanted to make certain he didn¡¯t flub any shots then he would have to clear one end of the table and then the other. And so that¡¯s what he did. Starting with the far end.


    Alex coated his cue tip in chalk, positioned himself, lined his shot, and then took it. He sank two balls consecutively, the second with a carom shot that inadvertently pocketed one of Luan¡¯s balls as well, making things easier for the man.


    Oops.


    Of course, never one to be defeated by mindset, Alex still attempted his five-ball run-out. He took a bank shot that ricocheted off two cushions and¡­ surprisingly, made contact. He watched, pensive as his striped ball rolled slowly¡­ ever so slowly towards the far corner. And then it did something magical. It went in.


    Wait¡­ maybe I can actually¨C oh.


    He flubbed his next shot.


    ¡°Hah!¡± Luan exclaimed, ¡°Scared me for a second there. Though¡­ I can¡¯t help feeling a little disappointed. You do realize this is my win now right?¡±


    He pocketed his ball as he said it.


    ¡°All that talk about a wolf in sheep¡¯s¡­ I¡¯m actually feeling kind of embarrassed that I said that now.¡±


    Another ball went down. Luan only had three more to go now, thanks to Alex¡¯s earlier aid. And damn did he know how to trash talk.


    ¡°Hell, what does a human know about true names anyways? If you spat that out just because you heard it somewhere, then be careful where you use it. Vampires don¡¯t take the mention kindly.¡±


    Alex watched in slow motion as Luan¡¯s cue tip collided with the ball. He replayed the memory with torturous detail as the man scored once again. He continued until the timing of the strike was deeply ingrained in his mind.


    ¡°And just because¨C¡±


    ¡°I know where your ancestors hid the burial grounds,¡± Alex said.


    ¡ªCli-clink!


    Silence passed between them as the ball¡¯s momentum died only a few feet from where the cue tip whiffed it.


    Luon draped his hand tiredly over his face. Alex expected him to be angry, or to react with hostile suspicion. Neither were ideal for him, but this was the only way he could see himself winning. It was worth whatever hard feelings it might¡¯ve brought. Worth whatever attention as well.


    But instead Luan simply muttered time out under his breath and approached the bar.


    ¡°No, the whole bottle please.¡±


    When he returned, he met Alex¡¯s gaze with hard eyes. ¡°Normal my ass. How the hell do you know about that?¡±


    ¡°You had your time for questions.¡± Alex said, gesturing to the cue stick, ¡°And it doesn¡¯t matter how I know. What matters is how this information can benefit you. I know the importance of true names, so believe when I swear on mine again, it will benefit you.¡±


    Luan frowned, took another swig, then sighed. ¡°You still have to win first.¡±


    Although he¡¯d said that, Alex noted that he hadn¡¯t timed back in yet so he could win. They both looked at the pool board, then at each other with an expression that cut through the bullshit.


    ¡°Hahh¡­¡± he sighed, ¡°looks like it¡¯s a tie then.¡±


    ¡°A tie?¡± Alex sputtered, ¡°How do you expect to¨C¡±


    He was interrupted as Luan¡¯s gruff hand slapped the high top table. He grabbed his 10 Real bill and shoved it into his pocket.


    ¡°I concede the bet,¡± he said, ¡°But don¡¯t think you can take my mone¨C¡±


    The man¡¯s words cut off as he suddenly disappeared.


    Your Queue to meet with the Constellations has moved up!


    [6/6]


    Expected wait time: forty-one minutes.


    Alex sighed. Then he grabbed his own two-dollars and change from the table, returning it to his inventory. He tried putting the table itself in there as well, but as expected it didn¡¯t work.


    How unsatisfying.


    No, he won where it mattered, nevermind the money. He had forty-one minutes now, more or less, and he had to decide what to do with it.


    A part of him wanted to just spend that time bumming around the casinos, that itch in his soul insufferable after having been denied its reprieve, but he squashed that voice. There was one other room he still had to visit. One he¡¯d believed even less than ¡®Olympic Swimming Pool¡¯ when he¡¯d seen it on the list.


    [Room 44 - Smithy]

 16 — Fire

    Integration, 15th Year


    Uern, Dykriest Region


    3 Weeks before System Reset.


    For a planet so rich in mana and essence, the underground cities of Dykriest lived far from prosperously. The region¡¯s surface¡ªfrigid and uninhabitable¡ªwouldn¡¯t terraform until the 100th layer of its cavernous dungeons were cleared, and so its inhabitants faced a simple choice: Continue until death, or earn their way out.


    In the skies far above them a storm raged, passing the region over. A wind more vehement than most whipped past frost-bitten mountain peaks, finding a crooked mountain-side crevice that led deep into the 10th layer. It threw rocks tumbling and snapped icicles, it chilled the cavern walls and sent surface layer monsters or unlucky adventurers hypothermic. It raged ever onwards, unstoppable, its momentum slowed only by time.


    Yet, time passed. And by the time it had breached deep into the 10th layer, it was little more than a breeze. It finally died, giving its last breath only to rattle the wooden signboard on a tavern door.


    The sign read: No Refugees.


    Alex glanced back, frowning when he heard a subtle wooden clank, then faced the artificially-lit streets of Ruin¡¯s Gate, leaving the establishment.


    The crazy bitch, he cursed for the hundredth time. Hosting their meeting there of all places¡­ his ilk weren¡¯t appreciated this side of the city and he could only think she¡¯d been screwing with them. The darted looks, the hushed whispers¡ªhe was well used to them of course, but it wasn¡¯t the treatment that bothered him now so much as the thought behind it.


    ¡°Refugees¡± they called them. Not slaves, not captives, just refugees. Here, people were jealous of the Integration, and those who received no offers after their world fell to invasion were viewed with envious spite rather than the vengeful hatred more common with war. For having squandered their opportunity, as arrogant as it sounded. This would be the last time he had to put up with it.


    No matter how this next job goes¡­


    Alex sighed tiredly. He walked through the windless, cobbled streets with an annoyingly clear head and another man¡¯s arm draped lazily over his shoulders.


    ¡°Ah, geez,¡± Jordan said, teetering slightly. ¡°I think I''m gonna¡­urr¨C¡±


    Alex ignored the older man¡¯s bemoaning gags as they walked another several blocks to the lower dwellings. Then, noticing he was still hitched to his side when he reached his doorstep, he stopped.


    ¡°Jordan,¡± he said, somewhat annoyed, "Drop the charade. You don¡¯t need an excuse to talk privately.¡±


    The older man wore a guilty grin as he looked up. Then, as Alex sent a pulse of his aura through the door¡¯s lock mechanism, he stumbled into his home clumsily enough that he thought it might not have been an act after all.


    Fair enough, he thought, I¡¯d be drunk right now if I could help it.


    Any sane man would be, after sitting an hour across from their client. It gave him shivers just recalling it. Alas, Alex was sober as day right now and it wasn''t that he had one of those skills or resistances to alcohol people got to impress women. Just, one day, after far too many bottles, he''d simply lost the ability to get drunk anymore. It was at times like this that he found it unfortunate. Who wouldn¡¯t want to get hammered after signing their own death warrant?


    ¡°Warm up by the fire,¡± he told Jordan.


    He sent three pulses of aura through a runic formation installed on the entrance wall. The lights flickered on revealing his home and makeshift smithy, strewn with clutter and half-finished puzzles he¡¯d never solved. The second aura pulse started a soft fire in the forge-turned-hearth, and the third disabled any defenses that could kill his first guest in eons.


    If anything here could, at least. Jordan didn¡¯t show his face on the shallower levels nowadays unless he had a job in need of Alex¡¯s talents, crippled as those talents were.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± Jordan grunted, ¡°I needed that.¡±


    He¡¯d found a resting spot on the stone-cold, roughly-chiseled floor and began flexing his fingers by the fire¡¯s heat. Settled in, he summoned a blanket from his inventory and thumbed through a random book from Alex¡¯s clutter titled ¡®Pedantic Ponderings of an Apocalyptic Blacksmith¡¯ as if trying to remember how to read.


    Right, just make yourself at home, why don¡¯t you.


    Alex sighed at the shamelessness and headed upstairs, ¡°I''ll go mix a concoction, tomorrow''s gonna be enough of a headache for you as is.¡±


    Another grunt was what he got in response.


    Alex rifled through his cabinets and cooler for the alchemical ingredients for booze-cure. While he was at it he poured two glasses of his precious Earth-exported orange juice as well. There was no point in saving it anymore.


    He came back to find Jordan sifting dust from the anvil, a distant look in his eyes, and appreciated that he didn¡¯t say anything about it and just took the glass he was offered. His orange juice was just a touch more blue than Alex¡¯s own and he gave a sour face as he gulped it down. The effects of the potion he¡¯d mixed in would take a second to start working.


    ¡°Well?¡± Jordan asked, cringing at the taste.


    Alex knew what the question beget but he took a second to raise his anti-scrying wards before he answered. Straight to business then.


    ¡°No clue,¡± he put bluntly, ¡°It was hard to get an accurate read on her with my ability. She was half a second from murdering everyone in the establishment and I think that¡¯s just her in her cheery mood. Us too, though it wasn¡¯t directed. She¡¯s a Death Priestess, killing comes as easily to her as breathing. I get the feeling she doesn¡¯t really view us as people.¡±


    Jordan grunted, he probably could¡¯ve deduced that much himself, ¡°But not a direct killing intent, mmh¡­ better than she be outright hostile, I guess,¡± he stroked his chin, ¡°So, would you say we¡¯ve got fair odds then?¡±


    Alex tried giving that some thought only to find the task pointless. There was nothing stopping their client from slaughtering their whole party once she had what she wanted, but at the same time it was utterly incomprehensible that a higher being would even want anything from a backwater planet like Uern, much less have need for a B-rank party as guides.


    ¡°Yeah, that tracks.¡±


    The two of them just shared a silent look for a second, serious expressions on their faces.


    Then their masks started to crack. The older man guffawed and started pounding the floor and Alex couldn¡¯t keep his own laughter contained for long. He tried taking a sip too soon only to spit juice all over the floor, ¡°Jesus christ Jordan, you¡¯re totally fucked!¡±


    ¡°I know!¡± he snorted, wiping a tear from his eye, ¡°I Shouldn¡¯t have made such a good name for myself! But what can I say? No-one knows their way around the low 20s like I do! Hah! Who knows, it might even work out!¡±


    Alex had almost calmed himself before he¡¯d said that last part. It spurred another round of hysterics, only quelled by a deep thud on the cobble to their neighboring wall. His wards only muddled words, it didn¡¯t do much for boisterous laughter.


    ¡°No seriously, It actually might.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± Alex said, bringing himself back. He wiped sleep from his eyes and settled onto his throw-rug. ¡°I wasn¡¯t lying when I said so. The odds match the gamble in both payoff and absurdity. It¡¯s just¡­ you have to find it at least a little funny. All these years of effort we¡¯ve put in, struggling at it by our own power, and now? It all just comes down to the whim of an Immortal.¡±


    Jordan nodded in good humor, seemingly taking this all in stride. Alex couldn¡¯t help feeling a little bad for him though. Jordan hadn¡¯t given him any details about the delve but he¡¯d expressed the risk as outright as he could. Alex at least had been given a choice in all this, but him? When an Immortal tasks you with putting together a party you simply don¡¯t say no.


    The man sighed, ¡°Oh, it¡¯s more hilarious than you think.¡±


    Alex stared blankly.


    ¡°No. No shit, how close were you?¡±


    He did the math as he said it. One-hundred Million Essence¡ªthat was the price of their freedom. An unachievable one for most people, as every crystal set aside was currency that could¡¯ve been consumed for power leveling instead. But¡­ Jordan was an individual contractor. And his reputation really was that good¡­


    ¡°That¡¯s¡­that¡¯s the thing,¡± he said, ¡°I was already there.¡±


    He scratched his head awkwardly, his words stopping Alex¡¯s mind in its tracks.


    ¡°You¡­had enough to retire?¡±


    The man nodded.


    ¡°Oh¡­¡±


    ¡°Then what the hell are you still doing here?¡± Alex didn¡¯t add.


    He sighed internally, taking back what pity he¡¯d given. Not everyone was properly situated to buy out their system contract. Ten years of non-stop work and tight budgeting only saw Alex one-fourth of the way there. If Jordan¡ªgod knows how¡ªalready had enough, he should¡¯ve cashed it in the instant it happened.


    Instead he¡¯d tested fate and just look what happened. The god-damned buffoon had been screwed the second the Immortal had even gotten his contact.


    ¡°Hah! Alex¨C you should see the look on your face right now.¡±


    ¡°I could throttle you Jordan, if only you were stupid enough to keep your riches on your person!¡±


    The man howled, creases lining his laugh until they too eventually made way for another sigh. He lowered his voice, ¡°Though¡­you¡¯re only half right. Aye, I¡¯ve got enough. Have had enough for a couple years now actually.¡±


    Son of a¡ª


    ¡°But I¡¯m not retiring.¡±


    Alex looked in the man¡¯s eyes and his temper faded. He knew that look, had seen it in too many men and women over the years not to recognize its taint. It never leaves you. And you never leave it.


    Truth was, they were both too old to retire.


    ¡°Fine,¡± he said, exasperated, ¡°What was your game then?¡±


    ¡°Well, I¡¯ve been thinkin¡¯ lately¨C¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s never a good thing.¡±


    ¡°Stuff it! I can think when I must,¡± he chuckled, ¡°Just¡­ over time it wears on me a bit, y¡¯know? Putting all this together, managing it all too¡­ and each year watching as my pool of contacts gets smaller and smaller¡­¡±


    Alex nodded. A lucky few had found an out over the years and the unlucky ones found a different sort of out, but there were fewer familiar faces regardless.


    ¡°I don¡¯t party with people I can¡¯t trust, Alex,¡± Jordan eventually said.


    ¡°I know. It¡¯s¡­ refreshing.¡±


    ¡°Mmh, but see, Alex, there¡¯s a difference between knowing you can trust someone to have your back, and actually trusting them with it. With time, that second lot¡¯s become a dying breed for me. They keep either leaving me behind, or, well¡­dying. You know I don¡¯t keep you around just cause you¡¯re useful, right?¡±


    Alex¡¯s mouth soured as he saw where this was heading.


    ¡°If I¡¯m getting free from this place, things are going to be different this time. The path I take is going to be different. Alex, the reason I keep you around is cause I trust¨C¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t do that Jordan,¡± Alex said, voice terse.


    The man stopped¨C then simply rolled his eyes, ¡°Oh, of course I shouldn¡¯t. Silly me, right? You¡¯ve only saved my life a handful of times.¡±


    ¡°Careful with your words.¡±


    Alex stirred his aura in warning, imperceptible licks of pressure rose off him and sent the fire flickering in its hearth. He owed a great deal to the man, but mockery could only go so far.


    ¡°I¡­ look, I know most don¡¯t look kindly on what happened, and they can take the moral high ground all they want but that war wasn¡¯t human. Those of us that still were by its end¡ªwe were living everyday like we¡¯d already died the last! Hells¡ªI know what you did was wrong, but you wanna know a secret? It made me feel good Alex¡ªit saved me. From becoming the sort of broken that don¡¯t fix no more.¡±


    Alex felt the urge to refute that but kept his mouth shut. The man didn¡¯t have the slightest clue what he was talking about.


    ¡°Okay, fine, let''s say I shouldn¡¯t trust you then. There still ain¡¯t anyone around that has lived the life you have, that has seen the things you¡¯ve seen. And I ain¡¯t seen anyone else down here so dedicated to saving for their buyout¡ªbut let''s be real, you don¡¯t got thirty-forty-whatever more years in you. Not like this you don¡¯t. You act like putting your life at the whim of an immortal is such a bad thing, but if this works out maybe it¡¯ll re-stoke some passion for your craft. We could rise higher¡ªit¡¯d be like we¡¯re defying the fates and all that young talk¨C¡±Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    Alex held a hand up, signifying the man to stop where he was, ¡°You¡¯re still too drunk Jordan, let me mix you another dose.¡±


    He didn¡¯t wait for a response as he got up to leave. Odds were, they¡¯d die in a few weeks time, but there were still some things he just didn¡¯t want to talk about. No point in opening old wounds just because you see the dagger coming.


    If we pull this off¡­ then maybe. But not a moment before.


    Still, the secrets Jordan had spilled this night couldn¡¯t be taken lightly. Sharing about one¡¯s wealth was a bold move even if they also happened to share a coffin and it wouldn¡¯t be a proper sleepover if Alex didn¡¯t share a pittance of his own secrets, would it?


    He scanned the bare room around him, at odds with the mess downstairs. His study-desk was spare but for instructional books or alchemy materials and looking at his cramped bed it finally sunk in that this would be his last night suffering its embrace. For the next three weeks he would be sleeping on rugged bedrolls in the dungeon caverns, and after that it was either plush yugar-fluffed sheets or six feet under. Demurely, he poured the last of his juice and mixed the second dose of booze-cure to have an extra kick.


    Alex¡¯s spirits lifted watching the poor man hack and cough on the ground before him.


    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± Jordan choked, ¡°My mouth got away from me.¡±


    Alex smiled, ¡°Everyone and their uncle seems to fancy themselves a fate-defier these days.¡±


    ¡°...ain¡¯t that right¡­¡±


    ¡°But actually defying the fates,¡± he continued, ¡°Those rare, true instances of brilliance in the face of oppression¡ªthey¡¯re always one off. And more often than not, they¡¯re the cause of a slow and painful demise,¡± he strided over and trailed that same line of dust from the surface of his anvil, blowing it from his finger tip with a frown, ¡°Jordan, if this succeeds, then I won¡¯t choose to be a blacksmith anymore.¡±


    ¡°Really?!¡± The man went wide-eyed, ¡°That¡¯s a shame¡­ you¡¯ve stopped making them so often, but your original works were something else, Alex. I know it¡¯s been a while but¡­¡±


    His brows grew together as the rest of what he¡¯d said pierced the booze.


    Absentmindedly, Alex¡¯s hand rested on the hilt of his magnum opus¡ªLys. The Dragonblade was at once both a reminder of what he¡¯d had and the last bastion of pride in his class for him to cling to. He sighed and sent two status displays over to Jordan¡¯s interface, making it easier for the man to comprehend. It wasn¡¯t odd that he considered Alex frugal with his savings. There was little other explanation for it now that Alex was a hundred levels lower than the man and it was always rather convenient to let others believe that he¡¯d planned it that way.


    But he hadn¡¯t. He walked over to the forge.


    It burned in its pit in front of him and he was tempted to reach his hand in just to be a little closer. He closed his eyes, trying to sense it there, the fire in his core, the path it blazed, resonating in the center of his being like a sun with a passion hot enough to melt any metal.


    He opened his eyes. Instead, his soul was stone cold and Jordan was staring at him in abject horror as he read over what he¡¯d sent him. It wasn¡¯t that he didn¡¯t want to be a blacksmith.


    ¡°I can¡¯t anymore,¡± Alex whispered, ¡°It¡¯s gone.¡±


    [Curse: Orion¡¯s Wrath]


    Your Bloodline has been stolen.


    Your Affinity to the Fire Aspect has been sealed.


    Your Level has been locked at 267 for all craftsman classes. Class cannot be upgraded.


    ________


    This curse cannot be removed.


    ***


    Space cracked around him and Alex suddenly found himself standing outside a stone-laid smithy. Sun beamed on his neck from above, the surrounding overgrowth intruded on the lone building, and the smell of charcoal embraced him even where he stood right outside its entrance, but they weren¡¯t the first things he noticed.


    The melodic rhythm of hammer on metal drifted gracefully to his ears and it made all else an afterthought. He closed his eyes.


    So that¡¯s how it was.


    Nightmare had blacksmiths, in the larger settlements especially, places where you could trade in materials and have them forged into weaponry for a lump sum of Essence. But there¡¯d been something strange, something that he hadn¡¯t even realized was off until years later when he¡¯d walked further along his path. The elites, those near the top of the ranks, sometimes had newly crafted weapons of unparallelled strength. And what he had realized was that none of those blacksmiths he¡¯d seen had been good enough to have made them


    Alex gripped the door¡¯s handle with an uncharacteristic amount of hesitance. The clang of metal on metal pierced the wooden door like it wasn¡¯t even there. It sang with the warm, expressive certainty that could only belong to a master at their craft. Someone so skilled that they must have devoted their whole life to blacksmithing. It had to have been their entire world. If Alex met their eyes, he was certain he would find a mountain¡¯s worth of depth in their gaze. Ordinarily, at least.


    He pushed past his nerves and opened the door. The sight was as he feared.


    A figure of pure bone was hunched over at his work-station, striking at hot iron. He was a large framed man¡­ he assumed. Or at the very least, his frame was larger than average, and it wasn¡¯t hard to imagine there¡¯d once been a lot of muscle on those bones if the ease of their motions said anything. But now he was just a nondescript corpse with a hammer.


    The sight felt so wrong that Alex couldn¡¯t even muster up a sigh.


    The undead didn¡¯t turn to address him as he just stood there in the entrance. In fact, he seemed largely unbothered by Alex¡¯s arrival, simply continuing his work, so Alex contented himself to just watch the man, swallowing the lump in his throat. The rhythm of his strikes cut straight to his soul.


    He noticed another sound now. The heavy clanking of chains as they whipped against the ground. They shackled to manacles around the undead''s ankles and wrists and rang out each time he swung. Their metal was imbued with runes so complex that Alex couldn¡¯t begin to guess what they did and they lit up with a light shimmer each time they moved.


    Necromancy wasn¡¯t as simple as most people thought. You couldn¡¯t put some boy¡¯s soul in a warrior¡¯s corpse and train them to become a master swordsmen. No, the man before him had once been a true flesh and blood master blacksmith, and he¡¯d been reduced to this. A twisted, fractured, and forgotten soul. A mere slave to the System.


    Blacksmith: 10 Nightmare tokens minimum.


    It was a tale so familiar to Alex¡¯s ears that he had to remind himself that his circumstances were far different. That he was conflating his hardship with a rag of bones for no reason other than the fact that they were two souls in a place they shouldn¡¯t be.


    It wasn¡¯t reason that calmed him, but that un-halting rhythm. Because the truth was Alex had no such talent. He could only dream of reaching the heights that the man before him had. And he could only listen to his strikes for so long before he felt urged to action. The intense urge to find himself an anvil and put a hammer in his hand this very second.


    And so Alex whipped out his anvil and hammer.


    The anvil landed with a thud on the smithy¡¯s cobbled ground as he dropped it from his inventory. He couldn¡¯t use skills here, so he didn¡¯t bother trying to complete what little smithing work he could before he got summoned. He only had twenty minutes now since, naturally, his survival instincts had seen him eating some Feijoada from that pub before he¡¯d left.


    Instead, he simply copied the rhythm of the undead¡¯s strikes with his hammer. Alex¡¯s own were a pathetic mimicry in comparison to the man, their clangs hollow in comparison, but they still echoed somewhere deeper. And he continued searching in those depths, uncertain what he was really looking for.


    The man¡¯s strikes reminded him of his Master¡¯s more than anything.


    They¡¯d had a similar tone to the ones from all those years ago. Day in day out, the voice of metal on metal had sung to him while he lazed about on the veranda, watching the clouds. He¡¯d been too deaf to listen. Too defeated to think that there was anything within himself worth searching for in himself. Anything left to take pride in after what had already been taken.


    Alex continued with a beat of his own, unable to replicate even a fraction of the depth of the undead blacksmith¡¯s. Yet with each swing he felt himself getting closer, and as he did, another urge welled up in him.


    I want to Cleanse him.


    The man hadn¡¯t looked his way once this entire time. Not when Alex had summoned an anvil from thin air nor even when he summoned his Undeath¡¯s Bane and gave his back a considering look, remembering words spoken to him long ago.


    ¡°The difference between an Undead and a living soul is that the living have the capacity to learn, to change. The undead don¡¯t. They are creatures perpetually stuck in the past, forced to strive for what they had in life. But they will never find what they are looking for.


    No mortal soul remains intact when torn from its home, and these undead, they will always have something missing. And they will know it too, but they will never understand its significance. They will never be whole without it, and yet they strive anyway.


    I bring them rest Alex, because it is a mercy.¡±


    Alex pictured Laura¡¯s loving expression in his mind¡¯s eye and sighed, his attention momentarily taken from the man before him.


    He had no doubt that if his blade had been awake she would¡¯ve echoed the same urge he felt, but Alex wasn¡¯t stupid enough to actually cleanse the thing. That constituted an attack and would only see him teleported away to a time out zone like that vampiric bitch, Ann.


    Instead, he simply laid the blade out before him. She shimmered a dark purple as the light from the fire flickered across her surface. And above the Shamshir¡¯s midsection, at two-thirds her length, began the splinter of cracks.


    He traced them with his fingers, sorrow in his touch.


    We are similar in that death was not the end. But that¡¯s it. Alex¡¯s death had made him whole again, rather than see him fractured further. What was more important now was that he faced forwards. He opened the ¡®Class¡¯ tab of his interface to see which classes he was currently eligible for.


    There were a couple there: Blacksmith, Craftsman, a few other non-combat ones, as well as some low denominator Stealth options that came from leveling the skill to Apprentice with his limited essence slots. As expected, however, splitting his skills so thin between craft, general utility, and physical fighting skills left him with less combat class options than most would have.


    But there were a few other Class options that were grayed out¡ªthose that he almost, but didn¡¯t quite meet the requirements for¡ªand among them he found what he was looking for.


    [Blacksmith Warrior]


    Eligibility Margin: 80%


    Current Eligibility: 72%


    Requirements met: ERROR


    Without a skill path manual for the Blacksmith-Warrior class, not that they existed, the System didn¡¯t tell Alex what he needed to do in order to increase his eligibility, or why there was even an error there to begin with. But he of course already knew the answers to both questions.


    Upgrading Stealth had been a necessary distraction to meeting his requirements, but to meet minimum eligibility he¡¯d just have to learn one more smithing skill and one more warrior skill and it would be enough. For both of which he had an idea for what he¡¯d need. And as for the error¡­ well, he¡¯d technically already met the class¡¯s requirements. He¡¯d earned most of the Essence for his level up through a sword of his own crafting.


    But then that sword had broken. So that error could only mean one thing, that he had to reforge it.


    In truth it was hardly that simple.


    There was no easy way to fix a blade without seeing it lose its original form, and thus, become an entirely different blade. Sure, he could take her broken pieces and weld her back whole but that would ruin the temper and she¡¯d have weaknesses at her weld lines. And though the System would recognize her as fixed, and he could get his class, she would not be battle capable again.


    But what other choice do I have?


    Alex brushed her splintered cracks once more. Then he sighed, vanishing her to his inventory, a deep regret burning itself in his soul. An unearned regret perhaps, because the truth was he did have a choice.


    If only the very thought of it didn¡¯t send a shiver down his spine.


    Your Queue to meet with the Constellations has moved up!


    [1/2]


    Expected wait time: six minutes.


    It was only when Alex moved to close the notification that he realized the clang of metal had stopped.


    What the¨C


    The blacksmith suddenly turned to look at him. His gaze was empty where Alex met it and yet there was a tension in the air that made him shiver. Not due to any intensity in his stare, but simply because it felt like the impassive glance of a creature so powerful that it could kill him with just the thought. The feeling lingered so imperceptibly briefly that Alex might¡¯ve thought he¡¯d imagined it if he were the sort of man to doubt his instincts.


    But the skeleton didn¡¯t speak, and instead turned to continue his work once more.


    ¡­Strange.


    He found himself glancing at those clinking chains again and decided it wise he didn¡¯t try to Cleanse the thing.


    But as the ringing of metal continued again he found it consuming his attention once more.


    It was strange how a pile of bones could give the swinging of metal such a beautiful sound. How such a simple, metronomic rhythm could resonate so deep with a man. And yet there was a profound volume to them, as if a mountain of endless depth was condensed behind a single blow.


    Or better yet, the earth beneath one''s feet. His strikes carry the depth of a planet itself.


    Alex watched with fervor as sparks spit from molten metal. The skeleton put it back in the furnace, heating it some more, and Alex¡¯s attention turned to the fire itself. It burned incredibly hot in the smithy¡¯s heart, white flames flickering at its edges. Alex listened to the melody of those hammer strikes, searching the depths that lied within himself. Until he found what he was looking for. Fire.


    When was it, he wondered. When had the fires of regret and the fires of desire become one and the same within him? When had he become so incapable of looking to the future?


    Had it been when Earth had fallen? Perhaps it had been even before the apocalypse, when he¡¯d failed to take custody of his sister. Or perhaps, it had been long before even that.


    Regardless, that fire blazed strongly. It raged, using it all as tinder and burning him in the process. He was happy to let it. Alex felt something overtake him. His heart suddenly ceased its pulse and his eyes glazed over distantly, as if lost in memory.


    Alex walked to the forge, to that fire.


    It burned in its pit in front of him, tempting him as it always did. It whispered for him to reach in, to feel its warmth, to be just a little closer. He¡¯d burned himself once, doing that. Third degrees down his arms sometime after Earth¡¯s fall, a hideous wound even with the aid of healing potions.


    Enraptured, Alex didn¡¯t give it a second thought now.


    Flames licked his hands. Coals seared his wrists. His skin blistered and blackened, it cracked, pussed, and bled. Yet, he accepted the blaze this time. Made way for it as it coursed through him, resonating in the center of his being like a new sun.


    It was a new sun.


    Your Bloodline has grown.


    A new trait has been unlocked.


    [Hands of the Sun God]


    Your hands are that of the sun itself, Fire is their warmth, and burns are their badges. They will not be harmed by its touch.


    An affinity has been awakened:


    [Fire]


    Alex opened his eyes to a world blurred with orange. Fire suddenly had so many more shades than before, it flickered in colors that shouldn¡¯t have even existed. Yet, it felt so right. Even before Alex had awakened them, his bloodline and affinity had been a part of him. They¡¯d lied at the core of his being, dormant, but always there.


    No, not always.


    The world¡¯s blur left him as his tears evaporated on his cheeks. These senses had been forgotten to him, stolen. Like a puzzle piece in the woven fabric of his being had somehow disappeared.


    Yet its absence left just enough remembrance for him to recognize the wrongness in his existence. To know that something integral to his being was missing, and that he was less than human for it. And it was only now that he could even comprehend just how much he¡¯d lost.


    I¡¯ve come back, but Lys is still gone. I¡¯ll never know what she¡¯d been saying¡­


    Delirious, Alex slumped down against the smithy¡¯s wall. He hung his head and watched as the blackened and cracked burns slowly receded from him, leaving hands like dark coals. They curled into tight, smoldering fists, the cracks fuming molten like burgeoning fault lines once more. Then, as the last embers tapered off they went slack.


    Later, Alex would have his revenge. For now, he could only mourn.


    For himself, for Lys. For his Undeath¡¯s Bane and what couldn¡¯t be. He just sat there, waiting his timer out until there was hardly a minute left. He listened to the melody of the Undead¡¯s strikes, sparing some mourning for him too, the pitiful thing.


    Alex looked up. He met the undead blacksmith¡¯s empty gaze, and strangely it wasn¡¯t so empty as it had once been. The runic lights on the chains flickered.


    ¡°If you feel such loss,¡± he said, ¡°Then you should listen closer to her voice.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Listening to that voice, keeping it intact¡ªthat is how a blade is reforged.¡±


    Alex gaped as the skeleton turned back to his metals. He opened his mouth to speak but his words were interrupted before he could reply.


    Your wait to meet with the Constellations has ended.


    You are being Summoned.

 17 — Class Selection

    Alex didn¡¯t feel the warp of space as he was summoned. Instead he was simply in one place one moment, and somewhere entirely different the next. Normally, instantaneous transport like that might leave him nauseas and dizzied, but it spoke of Nightmare¡¯s exorbitant budget that there was none of that.


    Regardless, his mind spun.


    [Room 0 - Holy Grounds]


    His mouth lolled ajar its lower jaw and he¡¯d just been about to ask the undead blacksmith¡­ Christ, he had no god-damn clue what he¡¯d been about to ask him! There were so many questions he hardly knew where to start.


    ¡°How do you know all that?!¡±


    ¡°Who are you?!¡±


    ¡°Hell¡ªwhat even are you?!¡±


    ¡°How did a master blacksmith like you end up in chains?!¡±


    ¡°Can I have your autograph?¡±


    Alex quickly bit back his response when the notifications came. There was nothing worse than spilling out your closest kept secrets before the most powerful, omniscient beings in the known multiverse¡ªand all because you simply hadn¡¯t been paying attention to the countdown. He winced as he awaited the soul shaking chill that always came from being in the presence of the constellations.


    Strangely, it didn¡¯t come. He pried one eyelid open.


    As far as he could tell he was completely alone here, wherever ¡®here¡¯ was. And as he thought more on it he realized that wasn¡¯t so strange at all. The Constellations weren¡¯t known to wait around on a mere mortal¡¯s arrival afterall.


    He found himself in a dark corridor.  His path was littered with dirt and rampant overgrowth, notwithstanding that the cobbles had clearly once been meticulously laid. He sniffed and noticed the air had a musty pungency that only came from being underground.


    Taking in his surroundings, it wasn¡¯t hard to note that this room lacked the intentionality of all the others he¡¯d visited. For lack of a better term, at least. The feeling could be hard to put your finger on if you didn¡¯t already know how pocket world¡¯s worked.


    See, it wasn¡¯t necessarily that this room was dirtier than the others¡ªthough it definitely was. The feeling lied more in how everything in the previous rooms felt as though they¡¯d been strategically placed almost¡ª a stray totem pole off to the side here, a small sign of erosion in the wood over there¡ª as if to create the most quintessential tiki bar of all tiki bars. Or like how during the tea party, none of the clouds seemed to block the sun in their drift, because god knows an English gentleman wouldn¡¯t have any glower with his tea and biscuits.


    The VIP rooms were glamorous and convenient, but when you looked past that it wasn''t hard to feel something unnatural about all of them, as if every little detail were by design.


    Because they were.


    Pocket worlds in truth were not worlds so much as their own pocket-sized dimensions. They were anchored to existence, but their separation allowed them to veer from its continuity to an extent. That made it possible to bend the very fabric of reality, and the wonders that could be achieved with that were innumerous. You could even manipulate time itself.


    An orange haze of lantern light approached Alex from down the tunnel.


    It had been approaching him for two minutes now, the stretch of time since he had first spotted it in the distance. The leisurely pace made the math of things quite simple. This room had to move at a faster pace than the others, otherwise his queue would¡¯ve been shorter. It was seeming this wouldn¡¯t be the quick meet and greet Alex was hoping for.  Unfortunately.


    ¡°Alex Smith.¡± An even voice intoned. ¡°Follow me.¡±


    The man carrying his lantern had short cropped hair and a cloth mask draped down to conceal his eyes. He wore the long black robes of clergy bordered with a crystalline threading, and adorning his left breast was the insignia of the Ozullen priesthood.


    Alex didn¡¯t need to see it to know he was one of the Empty¡ª the eerily robotic cadence in his speech conveyed it well enough. And neither was he surprised when the man didn¡¯t wait for a response before walking back the way he came.


    ¡°Wait!¡± Alex called after him, ¡°Where are you taking me?¡±


    He hadn¡¯t expected an answer and none came. His fingers traced the walls as they walked. Being accompanied by an Ozullen Empty was practically the same thing as being on his own so he let his thoughts wander.


    It¡¯s not my imagination, this room is different from the others.


    Perhaps the Architects had simply paid closer attention to detail where the Constellations would be visiting, but that didn¡¯t explain all of it. The walls of the tunnel were engraved with some sort of hieroglyphics¡ªrunes perhaps, some of them¡ªbut not like any he¡¯d ever seen. They seemed vaguely familiar and as Alex looked closer he thought he recognized the crude etching of a tortoise on one of the tiles.


    Akash.


    Alex corrected his analysis of his situation. The constellations weren¡¯t actually the most powerful beings in existence, the Primordial Gods were. And Akash, the Aspect of Space and Time, was one of them.


    If there was anyone who might know what had happened to Alex it would be him. But the Primordial Gods were hardly involved in even Immortal affairs, so he didn¡¯t know what to think of that. Just that he¡¯d be dead already if Akash truly wanted it.


    He controlled the shiver that ran down his spine.


    ¡°How far are we going to walk? Answer me!¡±


    The Empty didn¡¯t answer. Their footsteps echoed on the cobbles and Alex found his mind straying from the questions as he asked them.


    The Constellations don¡¯t know I¡¯m from the future, he concluded.


    Was it conceited of him to think that? Most definitely. A small pocket dimension was one thing, but a disturbance in spacetime on that large a scale was unimaginable. Someone had to have taken note. But It was simply one of those things he had to take at face value; a false premise assumed for the preservation of his sanity. Because if the Constellations did know, then the fact that they hadn¡¯t smited him yet was a goddamn mystery.


    It was supposed to be a calming thought but Alex didn¡¯t find himself reassured.


    ¡°We¡¯re here.¡± The Empty said. ¡°Go in.¡±


    A pair of large doors half the width of the tunnel scraped open against the cobbles. Alex did as asked and the man stayed behind as the doors closed on their own. An illogical thought sprang to mind unbidden, and Alex¡¯s rationale was helpless against it. He remembered that the last time a room did that, he hadn¡¯t made it out of there alive.


    It didn¡¯t take long for him to find that he wasn¡¯t alone as a sudden thwoom passed through the air and firelight chased away the darkness.


    Candles, countless of them, illuminated what looked to be a throne room. Only a strip of walkway from the entrance where he stood to the far-end dais was left uncovered, and rather than a throne the dais instead beheld a structure resembling an open-faced temple. Silky, translucent cloths were drawn behind its two forefront pillars to create a fluttering floral curve, and behind them three young women sat kneeling on plush and decoratively adorned cushions.


    These women were astonishingly beautiful. In such a way that made Alex feel like he was already in the presence of gods. Like the man from earlier, their eyes and upper face were concealed, but their cloths were bejeweled and their charm could be felt even just by the fullness of their lips. Their priestess robes were worn more like dresses than traditional garb, accentuating all the right places. And as a blissful touch of incense wafted to his nose he struggled not to gulp.


    ¡°Alex Smith.¡± Their voices were unnaturally serenading. ¡°Welcome. You may kneel.¡±


    It was only the knowledge that they were Empty and the emotionless cadence in their words that kept Alex¡¯s eyes from wandering.


    He kneeled. And finally he felt the chill he¡¯d been waiting for.


    The bidding for Alex Smith has ended! The three highest bidders may now approach you with offers of Sponsorship. You retain your right to a System Guide for Guidance.


    WARNING. You are in the Presence of a Constellation.


    [Auriga ¡°The Charioteer¡±]


    Alex shielded his gaze as a column of light consumed the middle priestess and when he lifted his eyes back up the priestess had changed. She was still the same person, her charm was still there¡ªmore powerful now, even¡ªbut her demeanor had completely shifted. She no longer kneeled so prim and respectfully. Instead she shifted uncomfortably, looked at the cushion below her, clicked her tongue as if annoyed, then stood.


    No, not she.


    Auriga was the Constellation of Weaponcraft. And primordial or not, the Constellations were undeniably things of mythos. Each represented their own domain and their mastery over it was so dominant that their very existence was etched into the night sky. And now the Constellation of Weaponcraft of all things was towering over him. The weapons Auriga created were the things of legends.


    Alex could feel his fiery gaze on the back of his neck and there was so much power behind it that he dreaded raising his head.


    ¡°Raise your head.¡±


    Alex obeyed. ¡°Are you a¨C¡±


    ¡°Am I a god?¡± Auriga interrupted him.


    He began laughing; a gruff-toned thing that felt like it shouldn¡¯t come from the voice of a goddess. ¡°Ohh always the same question with you mortals. Never change, never change. Now answer me this, what is a god?¡±


    Alex didn¡¯t need to fake his bafflement at the sudden question. Why was the god the one asking him that?


    ¡°Any minute now, I don¡¯t have long before the others arrive. Just because I put through the highest bid doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯ll entertain a boring prospect. Do not bore me, Alex.¡±


    Alex steeled his nerves, still reading over the System¡¯s notifications. This all felt so weird, like something a younger him might dream about only to forget when he woke up. Dregs of the twenty-four invited to this place he may be, but in his last life he was the one who had to approach the Constellations. To have them¡ªthree of them no less¡ªto have them bidding on him of all things¡­


    It doesn¡¯t matter. I already know what I want.


    It was a false reassurance. Be it as it may that he didn¡¯t need the constellations help, the fact that he was being approached here still entirely mattered. Unfortunately, rejection was no simple thing when dealing with creatures so powerful, but if boring them was the easiest way out, he¡¯d take it.


    ¡°I¡¯m an atheist,¡± Alex said at last, ¡°Or I was¡­I can¡¯t be sure anymore.¡±


    He shuffled nervously from one foot to the other. He opened his mouth as if to say more and then closed it and Auriga sighed, turning to sit back down on the cushion.


    ¡°An understandable, albeit, disappointing perspective,¡± he said, ¡°A river fish can sometimes find itself dumber in ocean waters, I understand that. But I¡¯d hoped that not of you. Let your mind swim freely now, tell me, what do you think of the Constellations? How are your beliefs changing, having met one yourself?¡±


    The question held little of the haughtiness that Alex would have expected from a lesser existence. The being before him was clearly superior to all mortals and immortals, and that would¡¯ve been evident to anyone even without Alex¡¯s trait to scream it at them. It wasn¡¯t because of the beauty radiating from the Empty priestess, but from something deeper that touched his soul simply from being in the same room as the Constellation.


    He remembered the first time he¡¯d met one, and how easily such a feeling could spur a blind fanaticism.


    ¡°You¡¯re a god.¡± Alex sputtered blankly.


    ¡°And?¡±


    ¡°Auriga¡­ I¡¯ve heard that name. Greek mythology, I think. Are you from Earth?¡±


    The god¡¯s demeanor betrayed yet more disappointment as he hung his head.


    ¡°No, I am not. I know the tales you speak of, and they are just that, tales. The stars speak true for those willing to listen, but mortals always love to put their own spin on things. Often in regards to having the lot of us fucking one another.¡± Auriga jerked his hand as if to wave away another sigh. ¡°Perhaps it is too soon to expect any different from you. No matter. Actions speak louder than words, and for us, our creations speak even louder. I know the Title you have been granted, Alex, but I have yet to lay eyes on the weapon itself.¡±


    Alex struggled not to flinch. ¡°It broke in my most recent battle.¡±


    ¡°So you discarded it?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± he said, ¡°But it requires a gentle handling.¡±


    Stricken by a sudden nervousness he had no need to fake, Alex retrieved the Undeaths Bane from his inventory and approached the dais at Auriga¡¯s beckoning. The Constellation took it in his hands and went silent.


    Standing this close to the priestesses, the scent of bliss drove Alex close to mad and it was with slight unease that he realized there was no incense lit. It was not his first time meeting an Ozullen priestess, but never this many at once, and their allure was an all encompassing reverence rather than purely sexual.


    But they were not goddesses, Alex knew. Nor were they undead creations like everything else in Nightmare. The priestesses were flesh and blood humans, chosen from birth for the very qualities they displayed, and he fought away their charm with that bitter knowledge.


    By the time he could steer his mind back on topic, Auriga¡¯s expression was unreadable.


    ¡°This is not bad. The shape suits the material, its design shines beneath its limitations. Even if you did have some help, it¡¯s clear that you know your trade. I would not expect this level of craftsmanship from someone inexperienced with Oslumnen ore.¡±


    Alex wondered about those words ¡®had some help¡¯. He didn¡¯t know why Auriga thought that, but the assumption could only be good for him. It did seem rather unbelievable that someone so new to the System could create such a blade in any case.


    The constellation tapped the blade¡¯s tip and a chime filled the air.


    ¡°Moreover¡­ I can see that you poured your soul into this piece. It¡¯s not often that a freshly awakened¨C¡± Auriga paused. ¡°Hm¡­ Is it time already? Very well. Here is my offer Alex.¡±


    He handed his blade back to him with an uncharacteristic amount of deference. And it was only when Alex returned her to his inventory that he realized his heart had been thumping the entire time. To have his precious blade in the hands of a god, and then to have such a fabled craftsman praise her¡­ it was both a terrifying and deeply exhilarating feeling.


    Look at you, being sucked into their gravity once again.


    It didn¡¯t matter, Alex wasn¡¯t going to make the same mistake again. He already knew what path he was going to¨C


    His breath caught.


    [Elemental Forge-master]


    A powerful blacksmith class that specializes in infusing their creations with elemental magic. They can craft weapons and armor that harness the powers of nature, and can more easily blend Auras of Elemental Aspects together, offering unique abilities in combat.


    Alex tried not to gape. He tried not to show too much recognition of what all this meant.


    Ultimately, he couldn¡¯t tell how well he hid his reaction as his mind had momentarily stopped working. All paths led to conflict in the apocalypse, he¡¯d always believed that but it wasn¡¯t strictly true. Craftsmen classes were a dime a dozen, but with such a rare and powerful class there would always be someone willing to protect him once he got out of Nightmare.


    Years later, when the Invasion ramped up in intensity, the skilled craftsmen were the first to be poached from Earth. It was practically a free ticket onto Noah¡¯s arc. And that class in particular¡­ wasn¡¯t that the foundation class Auriga was fabled to have gotten all those eons ago?


    ¡°Alex,¡± The craftsman gave a rueful smile, ¡°I have no doubt the other Constellation¡¯s offers will be good, but they will not see in you what I do. All they will see is a broken blade, but though she is broken she is far from lost. If you accept my offer without seeing the others, I will personally instruct you in her reforging. And additionally, I will take you from the Integration this second and place you under tutelage of one of my prized pupils.¡±


    Alex sputtered ¡°You can do that?!¡±


    He was a Constellation, of course he could. ¡®Why?¡¯ was the question.


    In a twisted way, the people of Dykriest weren¡¯t wrong¡ªthe Integration did give a peculiar advantage to those who rose above it¡ªbut there was still a whole universe out there, and more people to choose from than a mortal mind could imagine. Alex knew well that talent was not the real reason that they were sponsored.


    Auriga spoke as if he¡¯d read his mind.


    ¡°It will be costly to take you this early,¡± he admitted, ¡°I might have to forfeit some rights perhaps, but I don¡¯t have much at stake in this Integration. You can just take this offer as proof of what I see in you. On your current path your light will inevitably gutter out, but under me, your name will echo across the stars in centuries¡ªmaybe even within a human lifespan! My eye is never off about value.¡±


    He tapped the cloth draped over his face and Alex found himself thankful it was still there.His heart thumped so noisily in his chest. And where before he¡¯d been fearful his reaction might betray too much of his knowledge, he now thought it¡¯d be more unnatural for a mortal not to be awe-stricken by such praise.


    Still, he quickly brought his emotions back under wrap. Auriga may have an eye for value, but there were still things a Constellation couldn¡¯t see. There was some information the System wouldn¡¯t relinquish even to them, and if he¡¯d been uncertain before, now Alex was certain they didn¡¯t know what he really was.


    He can hear her voice. He might suspect my bloodline, but he doesn¡¯t know my trait. Nor the fact that I¡¯ve touched Lilith¡¯s Bond. He was undervaluing Alex if he thought he wouldn¡¯t make it through Nightmare intact this time.


    And yet, for all the determination he¡¯d walked in here with, Alex found himself hesitating. He¡¯d never met a blacksmith greater than his Master, and yet here was a Constellation offering to take him under his wing. He recognized it for what it was, an early retirement.


    ¡°Ah! That¡¯s right, how could I forget!¡± Auriga clearly had taken Alex¡¯s silence to mean something else. ¡°I can take your immediate family as well, and one lover of your choosing.¡±


    ¡°My sister! Is she still¨C¡±


    Alex nearly forgot everything else for a second as the god put his hand up for silence. ¡°Ah¨C apologies, mortal. In my excitement I seem to have forgotten tact. There¡¯s decorum to all this, I cannot give you information on others in the Integration until you agree to my offer.¡±


    A pit opened in Alex¡¯s stomach. That was one rule that he knew Constellations had little regard for. He feared that his refusal to say really meant something else, but he quickly let that fear pass through him, taking any leftover hesitation with it.


    He wasn¡¯t done with this world, and if the cost of retirement was putting himself under the thumb of another constellation then he wouldn¡¯t take it. Again, not that it was so simple a thing to say.


    ¡°I got three offers right? I¡­ thank you, but I¡¯d like to see what else there is first.¡±


    Distaste oozed from the gods words. ¡°I see. Then you may find my offer less satisfactory when you take it.¡±


    The offer on display before Alex amended itself and the parts about tutelage quietly vanished from his interface. Then as suddenly as that another column of light flashed and the Priestess to Auriga¡¯s right was consumed by it.


    When it vanished, Alex hardly noticed any difference in demeanor. The priestess sat as perfectly straight as she had been before, or perhaps she¡¯d gone even more still if anything. The chill that went down his spine then was cold and unwelcome.


    Nocturn, ¡°The Dark Star¡±


    Constellation of Shadow.


    Nocturn¡­ her Constellation wasn¡¯t visible to the mortal eye in such close orbit to the sun, not until the integration at least, but Alex had heard of her. She was powerful, but elusive, and he¡¯d only heard rumors of her sponsoring anyone in his last life.


    She whispered only one word, and an inhuman hiss sounded in the priestess''s voice.


    ¡°...take¡­.¡±This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    [Soul Reaver]


    Soul Reavers are skilled assassins who harvest the essence of their victims. Their abilities revolve around absorbing and manipulating souls, which enhance their power and abilities.


    A stealth class.


    Alex knew that the Constellations were capable of altering his Essence Signature to an extent, but he didn¡¯t know it went this far. His stealth skill may be at apprentice level but he still only had the one. And for him to still receive something so powerful¡­ if all he wanted to do was assassinate his enemies, he¡¯d have probably leapt at it in an instant.


    But that wasn¡¯t all he wanted. And he couldn¡¯t help feeling disappointed about it compared to Auriga¡¯s original offer.


    ¡°...not¡­ good enough¡­?¡±


    Nocturn didn¡¯t turn her head an inch, but Alex could tell the question wasn¡¯t directed at him.


    ¡°No,¡± Auriga said, ¡°Not even close. You¡¯ll have to do better than that.¡±


    ¡°I¡­ see¡­¡±


    Not ¡®good enough¡¯?


    Alex re-examined his own disappointment, feeling a bit horrified. The offer would¡¯ve been unimaginable in his original life, to turn it down like he did just felt wrong.


    It was weird, but he thought he might be starting to feel a strange sense of imposter syndrome. All he¡¯d really done was act on the knowledge and experience he already had. And he was certain that if Jordan had experienced Nightmare he could¡¯ve been standing right where Alex was as well. He¡¯d probably have accepted one of the offers too, he¡¯d been a paladin afterall. It worked out for some people.


    For most people, he amended.


    Having a sponsorship was common by the time the invasion ended, and Alex had to remind himself that his situation was not normal. The idea of putting his fate into the hands of a more powerful being still terrified him, but maybe he was just being stubborn. There would always be dangers, always things that he couldn¡¯t control, but he could watch out for them now.


    Fine. I¡¯ll consider it then. If the offer is good enough.


    Alex watched the third priestess with bated breath.


    Light flashed and her poise was gone in as she spread her legs, her arm coming to rest on her knee casually. She looked across the dais at the others, and gave a small chuckle, then the priestess¡¯s lips stretched into a callous grin that besmirched her beauty.


    The chill Alex felt from his gaze was both violating and all too familiar.


    Orion, Constellation of the Hunt.


    ¡°Kid,¡± the bastard spoke, ¡°I¡¯ve only got one shot at this. I can grease some hands if you¡¯ll tell me what these two are offering.¡±


    ¡°Orion, you bastard! You know that¡¯s not how this works!¡±


    ¡°...not¡­you¡­agaain¡­¡­¡±


    The Constellation laughed at the other¡¯s curses, a wry-natured wheeze that Alex was all too familiar with.


    Why is he here?


    Again, this was the second time! Hell, why had he sponsored him in his first life?! Alex had his suspicions but he¡¯d never been able to confirm them before he¡­ before he¡¯d¡­


    Orion made a tongue-clicking, half whistling sound as he curled his finger at Alex. ¡°Over here, kiddo. Show me the sword will ya?¡±


    Alex masked his emotions purely out of habit. He felt like a deer in headlights as he handed his sword over to the man.


    The Hunter looked down its slanted edge. Then lashed out recklessly, slicing through the pillar to his left. The temple-esque structure half collapsed and its roof slanted overhead, nearly crushing the priestess he possessed before coming to a stilted stop.


    Alex¡¯s heart leapt out his chest.


    He only barely stopped himself from snarling and going to take his sword back when he saw she hadn¡¯t taken any more damage. Then Orion seemed to examine the cleanly sliced pillar for a second, before giving his blade a second glance.


    ¡°Huh.¡± he laughed, ¡°There¡¯s power there, but it doesn¡¯t cut well. And it¡¯s broken.¡±


    He tossed it back carelessly and Alex hid it away in his inventory.


    Nocturn hissed. ¡°...Orion¡­..!¡±


    ¡°Oh shut it, serpent. The roof¡¯s still holding, ain¡¯t it? And you, Auriga¡­¡± Orion pursed his lips, ¡°Weren¡¯t you taking it easy this time around¡­?¡±


    ¡°Orion,¡± the Constellation said testily, ¡°I know you¡¯re just here to outbid the Seven Sisters. Don¡¯t do anything you might regret.¡±


    Alex¡¯s eyes briefly widened at the mention of the Seven Sisters but he quickly hid his reaction. Auriga glared at Orion and the only indication that the other Constellation had heard his warning was the shit-eating grin on Orion¡¯s face when he looked back at Alex.


    [Celestial Paladin]


    Celestial Paladins are holy warriors blessed with divine power. They wield enchanted weapons and can heal or cleanse their allies, making them powerful in both offense and support. With enough devotion, they are capable of channeling their patron Constellation¡¯s power within their body.


    For a long moment no one spoke. The only indication that Nocturn had left was the uncomfortable shiver the priestess spoke her final words with.


    ¡°.....good¡­bye¡­¡±


    The Constellation¡¯s presence faded into nothing.


    ¡°Hey, it looks like Nocturn¡¯s out of the running. You¡¯re first bid Auriga, you can adjust your offer now if you want.¡±


    Orion cackled madly. And as he whipped his head to the side, the priestess¡¯s eye mask fluttered for just a second.


    To become a medium for a god¡­ it was no simple feat. Without the power of such a legendary class, a person had to be emptied completely to make room for such a being. And as that mask fluttered ¨C as Alex saw the scarring of gouged eyes on the priestess woman ¨C he remembered that it was not only meant in spirit.


    ¡°Curse you, Orion! I could call your bluff! I know you can¡¯t afford to give out such a powerful class this early!¡±


    The other priestess curled her lip in anger and Alex thought then that she couldn¡¯t have been much older than he was.


    ¡°You could, and I might be in a bit of trouble then. But¡­¡± Orion looked back at Alex, his expression thoughtful, ¡°You won¡¯t.¡±


    The two gods began bickering then, completely forgetting a mortal like him was even there. But when you removed the magic, when you looked at it all through the lens of the purely mundane, it was just two tortured, broken young women forced to act as vehicles for a cat fight. Alex lived in a universe where that was simply the way of things.


    He turned to new information to distract his mind.


    The Seven Sisters. Together, they made up the Constellation of the Hammer as a singular existence. It wasn¡¯t hard to imagine they carried the same interests Auriga did, but they were a minor constellation. And Orion was one of the most powerful in existence, it couldn¡¯t have been hard for him to outbid them.


    Then there was the fact that someone had apparently already received a class so powerful as [Celestial Paladin]. That also wasn¡¯t a mystery to him. Xuan Yuxuan was by far the most powerful human under Orion¡¯s sponsorship, it had to be him.


    But what about that mysterious Constellation who¡¯d gifted him the gauze? He¡¯d almost wondered if they might show up here, but they hadn¡¯t bid on him so Alex could only assume he¡¯d been right and he was just a convenient pawn to keep alive. Yet another morsel of trouble on his plate.


    Wait, the gauze! Is that why Auriga thought I had help?


    Oh¡­ he thinks it''s the Seven Sisters¡­


    Alex turned each new piece of information over in his head, examining it all closely. His mind focused on anything and everything except the offer floating on his interface before him. It was a no brainer, an offer he couldn¡¯t refuse.


    But Alex was a blacksmith. He¡¯d refuse it.


    For a second, everything seemed so simple. He saw the world in black and white, and as Auriga harrumphed and acquiesced, the puzzle pieces all clicked together.


    ¡°Fine.¡± The Constellation said. ¡°Alex, consider yourself lucky. I wouldn¡¯t normally do this to someone who hasn¡¯t proven themself.¡±


    Offer has been Amended. Upon reaching a suitable level, an additional Class Upgrade Quest will be guaranteed for Elemental Forge-Master.


    ¡°But I have one condition. You have to leave Nightmare.¡±


    Alex closed his eyes. The puzzle clicked complete in his mind¡¯s eye.


    It all made sense now. Leaving the Integration, taking him from Nightmare. Blocking out the Seven Sisters, giving him either Warrior or Blacksmith but not what he really wanted. They were scared for some reason. Alex was unwanted in Nightmare, his path was unwanted. He¡¯d always known that, but to elicit this kind of reaction?


    Alex finally looked over his options.


    I don¡¯t enjoy killing, he thought. And with such a powerful smithing class, he could see it. A path he could take, a future where his loved ones were all protected, and where he didn¡¯t have to give anything up to accomplish that.


    But that wouldn¡¯t do. And as much as he didn¡¯t like it, there were people who needed killing.


    And Alex wasn¡¯t just a blacksmith anymore. He was a warrior too.


    I already know what path¨C


    Congratulations! A Constellation has used their Special Privilege to Upgrade your Foundation Class options. Class Requirements for Alex Smith have been upgraded.


    [Blacksmith-Warrior] has been upgraded to [???]


    [???]


    You must raise Eligibility or have this Class appraised to view this information.


    Eligibility: 66%


    ERROR. You must purchase a Skill Path or raise your eligibility to view Class Requirements.


    Alex found himself half collapsing as he stepped back. Orion gave him a subtle wink.


    ¡°Wait¨C what¡¯s happening,¡± Auriga said, ¡°What did you¨C oh. You know you only get to give one of those, right?¡±


    ¡°Consider it my amends,¡± Orion said, ¡°I could see it in his eyes. The boy was about to reject you.¡±


    Alex could hardly hear the words as the hunter said them. He felt small in the God¡¯s sight, like he was nothing but prey.


    It had happened again. He¡¯d been stolen from. But why?!


    What had he ever done to earn this?!


    And how were they able to just do this to him. Didn¡¯t these kinds of gifts go through the System first?


    Alex stilled. Then regained his footing. When he spoke his next words he almost struggled to keep the venom from them. ¡°I¡¯d like to see my System Guide.¡±


    ¡°If that¡¯s okay,¡± he added a beat late.


    ***


    Within mere seconds, Velrick sauntered into the great hall with ruffled hair and the grumpiness of a man who¡¯d had his afternoon nap interrupted. He shot Alex a piercing look.


    Velrick: [I thought told you to call me if you were offered any Sponsorship]


    Alex could practically hear the man¡¯s sardonic bite through the interface¡¯s message. Yet, for all that he claimed otherwise, he seemed displeased to have been called there.


    And you also told me not to accept any Sponsorships without having you present. Which Alex hadn¡¯t planned on doing in the first place. It was a petty difference, he knew. And he didn¡¯t care to quibble at the moment.


    Alex: [Did you approve this?]


    Velrick narrowed his eyes and his hands worked rapidly, moving across the air in front of him faster than could be traced. Alex assumed a neutral expression, but he watched the Guide¡¯s reaction like a hawk, reading his expression for even the subtlest changes.


    He kept waiting to feel even the slightest bit of ill intent from the man, but there was nothing. As far as he could tell, Velrick¡¯s confusion was genuine.


    ¡°This isn¡¯t correct,¡± he finally said, ¡°Special Privileges must be approved through the System. They must reach the System Guide, and the awakened in question must consent before they are approved. This Privilege has been used unlawfully.¡±


    Orion¡¯s smile finally dropped.


    ¡°System¡¯s representative or not,¡± he growled, ¡°I won¡¯t put up with this farce! I requested it through the proper channels and the System approved my request.¡±


    ¡°Maybe,¡± Velrick said dully, ¡°But I didn¡¯t receive it and there was no consent. I will file an audit for internal investigations. If there is corruption at hand then the consequences will be severe.¡±


    Orion snorted. Alex might¡¯ve as well if there was anything at all funny about this situation. An upgrade that he didn¡¯t know the requirements for wasn¡¯t a gift, it was a death sentence.


    No, it was a trap.


    Alex: [And how long will that take?]


    Velrick stifled a yawn..


    [A few days. Maybe a week to thoroughly investigate]


    Fists curled at Alex¡¯s sides with lost heat. A desperate burning sensation that had no direction, no clear kindle to light its fire.


    Xii-Velrick¡­ he still didn¡¯t trust the man, but there was no way to prove he was part of anything amiss. Alex was cornered, and there was nothing he could do about it. There was only one way out for him.


    ¡°Some day your schemes will backfire, Orion.¡± Auriga said. ¡°For now, Alex, my offer is still on the table.¡±


    The Hunter put his hands up innocently but a smile still tugged at the corner of the priestess¡¯s mouth. And at that moment, Alex remembered what he¡¯d done to invoke the God¡¯s wrath ¨C the reason Orion had given him that curse.


    He swore he would do worse this time.


    But he buried his anger, locked it in that dark place in his mind, and stepped forward. The anger he showed now was a joke in comparison. The contained indignity of a newly awakened who still didn¡¯t understand what gods were, just that he shouldn¡¯t mess with them. He felt three gazes on his back as he bowed down.


    No, he felt only two but he knew Velrick was watching anyway. There was only one sane answer, one logical decision for him to make. Only one that didn¡¯t end with his head on the chopping block.


    But I just can¡¯t do it.


    ¡°Auriga, Orion, thank you for the offers. I¡¯m sorry, I don¡¯t mean to offend you, but I can¡¯t accept them at this time.¡±


    Instantly, the Constellation¡¯s overpowering gazes that before were almost tolerable seemed to seethe with malice and Alex could tell that they were more than just offended.


    He¡¯d made the gods furious. Again.


    [Room 86 - Brazilian Bar]


    ¡°No, the whole bottle please,¡± he said tiredly.


    The bartender handed Alex the entire jug of Columbia George and he drank the Orange Juice thirstily. Velrick, who had for some reason followed him there, was staring at him.


    ¡°That was beyond stupid,¡± he scolded. ¡°If you were trying to get yourself killed, then congratulations.¡±


    No, you were trying to get me killed, Alex thought. Though he knew better than to voice groundless accusations.


    What was his deal anyways? nothing about the man added up. Velrick held the Xii honorific, which made him a member of the twelth order beholden to the System, and placed him fairly high up as well. But despite his status he carried himself with all the care of a brat who hadn¡¯t worked a day in his life.


    Still, system representative or not, Alex had seen the way he¡¯d threatened Orion back there. He wasn¡¯t a Constellation known to take intemperance kindly, and yet he¡¯d seemed to regard Velrick with more weight than his position should give him. Was it all just a ruse?


    Most likely. But something was still off.


    Alex finished the jug of orange, wiped his mouth, then regarded the Guide with wary eyes. He was surprised to see his calculative expression thrown back at him.


    ¡°I assume you have a plan?¡± Velrick asked.


    ¡°No, I was just angry.¡±


    Velrick hmm¡¯d noncommittally.


    ¡°It¡¯s the truth,¡± Alex said.


    ¡°Don¡¯t double down, it just makes you look guilty.¡±


    Alex suppressed his annoyance as he stalked off. It was the truth. Just not all of it.


    [Room 44 - Smithy]


    Alex paused outside the smithy¡¯s doors again, calming himself as he listened to those melodic strikes, the undead still hard at work inside. He didn¡¯t know who it was who could already afford to hire the undead, but whoever they were, they were a lucky man.


    Xuan Yuxuan probably, he thought with a scowl.


    Alex waited by the entrance some beats longer while he willed his heart to cease its rapid pounding. The smithy could be more precious than a home to some blacksmiths, and you did not barge into another man¡¯s home with anger.


    Gracefully, he opened the door.


    The blacksmith stopped his work immediately this time, his skeletal body turning to face Alex. The glaze of forge fire danced orange across his ivory bones, and in his eyes Alex saw a world¡¯s worth of depth once more. It might¡¯ve overwhelmed him if he hadn¡¯t just spent the last ten minutes surrounded by the Constellations.


    No, it was overwhelming even then.


    Alex had to tear his gaze from the undead''s eyes when he saw too deep, when he saw the pain.


    ¡°I see you didn¡¯t accept their offers,¡± the skeleton said. Alex had half a mind to ask how he knew, but he found himself distracted.


    The undead¡¯s chains¡­ were they tighter now? And their runic glow seemed to shine more intensely as well. He followed them with his eyes, from the manacles around the undead¡¯s wrists and ankles to¡­


    Alex peered around the corner and found that they didn¡¯t have a perceivable end. They just stopped suddenly, disappearing into warped reality. It was all just another mystery to add onto the building pile. Alex had more important things to worry about for now.


    ¡°No,¡± he sighed, ¡°I didn¡¯t. More importantly, when I was about to leave, you were saying something. That it was possible to reforge my blade, I want to know how.¡±


    ¡°Alas, that¡¯s not mine to tell.¡±


    Alex narrowed his eyes. It wasn¡¯t his imagination, the chains really did seem to be getting tighter.


    ¡°But that¡¯s also not why you¡¯re really here, is it?¡± The skeleton continued.


    ¡°No,¡± Alex admitted, ¡°This is mostly just a hunch, but I have something else on my mind. Your¡­ style of blacksmithing, it reminded me of someone.¡±


    ¡°Did it?¡±


    Alex thought he sensed humor in the remark. ¡°Yes, he was the most knowledgeable blacksmith I¡¯d ever known, and I was hoping you could help me in his absence. I don¡¯t know why the Constellations have you chained up here, and I won¡¯t pry, but at a glance I¡¯d guess your relationship isn¡¯t all that amicable. I know that doesn¡¯t grant me the right to ask this, but they¡¯ve blocked me from my path¡ªor upgraded it at least. And they¡¯ve given me a quest I can¡¯t see the requirements for.¡±


    ¡°Yes¡­ that doesn¡¯t sound ideal.¡±


    ¡°If you could help me, I¡ª It¡¯d be more than I could ask for.¡±


    I would be forever in your debt.


    Alex stopped himself before he said the words aloud, he would not be swearing blind fealty to such a creature again. If nothing else, not that. Silence stretched and it took all he had not to stir awkwardly. It was hard for him to read the body language of a thing that didn¡¯t have much body, but the undead skeleton seemed to regard him unperturbed and when those bones finally moved again, it was with a rattled sigh.


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid I can¡¯t give you the knowledge you seek. I likely won¡¯t be here when you return.¡±


    That pit in Alex¡¯s stomach reopened as if to swallow him whole. His shoulders slumped. It had been a wild gamble ¨C no, perhaps this was all just the tantrum of a child who couldn¡¯t come to terms with how the world was ¨C but in truth he¡¯d already known how this would play out.


    The rejection was such that Alex¡¯s eyes had all but clouded over by the time he heard that last part. ¡°Wait¡­ you won¡¯t be here? Why¨C¡±


    ¡°There, that should do.¡±


    The undead grasped the lowest rung of its rib with bony hands and snapped it off.


    [???]


    This item must be appraised to be identified.


    Alex now held it in his hand, speechless.


    ¡°Oh, and that too.¡±


    ERROR has been overridden. [???] Class Requirement revealed


    Create a Named Weapon.


    The undead shook out its hand as if it had just touched something it didn¡¯t want to. And once again, Alex just couldn¡¯t quite find the words for what he wanted to say.


    A named blade¡­


    ¡°I would make quick if I were you,¡± the skeleton said.


    ¡°I¡­¡±


    Alex didn¡¯t know what he¡¯d been about to ask but he cut his question short the instant he felt it. The whirr of magic ¨C a spell so powerful it could tear down mountains. The runes along the undead¡¯s chains lit up, shining with a white glow, and only then had what the rest of what the creature had said fully settled in.


    ¡®I likely won¡¯t be here when you return¡¯


    The room was blindingly bright now as the chains constricted and their magic sung with fever pitch. Alex scrambled to get away, sparing only a glance for the creature who had so willingly ¨C so puzzlingly ¨C sacrificed itself for him.


    ¡°A shame,¡± the undead muttered at his workstation. His decrepit expression felt almost forlorn at that moment. ¡°Unbecoming of me to leave a commission unfinished.¡±


    ***


    Alex stepped out of the portal and back into Starter Town¡¯s smithy, almost dazed to see the place exactly how he¡¯d left it.


    He supposed he shouldn¡¯t have been surprised to see the sun in the same position in the sky as it had been before. And he should¡¯ve expected the pain as well. It hit him like a truck the second he stepped out of the gate.


    ¡°Ah¨C fuck¡­¡±


    Alex rolled collapsed on the ground, clutching his sides in pain though it was his whole body that hurt. Distantly, he was aware that he was being watched.


    ¡°Why are you still here?¡± he spat.


    Velrick just shrugged, but Alex saw more than just boredom in his eyes. ¡°Like I said Alex, you¡¯re a curiosity. And I¡¯m not the type who can go back to sleep just after being woken up.¡±


    Alex scowled.


    ¡°As your System Guide, everything I am privy to here is under strict confidentiality.¡±


    Well that at least, Alex knew to be true. Guides had to take an oath for that sort of thing he recalled.


    Not like I can tell him no in any case.


    With tender care and unsteady legs, Alex stood up and started arranging his work space. He returned the anvil and all the other tools he¡¯d taken into his inventory to their rightful places and examined his blade to ensure that she was truly undamaged by Orion¡¯s antics. Once that part of his mind was appeased, he then set his the rest of it to the matter at hand.


    There was a reason Alex had been so surprised to see such a skilled Blacksmith in the VIP rooms. And he was starting to understand at least some of why the Constellations were so vehement about denying him his path in Nightmare.


    The way Alex saw it, if you took two blacksmiths¡ªassuming neither were terrible¡ªand gave them the same quality of material, most of the time they would produce a weapon of similar grade.


    That was all and well, but what the more skilled blacksmith would do is tune it to suit its user. Alex knew first hand the difference it could make. He had been nothing special after he¡¯d fallen from grace, and the synergy he¡¯d had with his Wyvern blade had been the only reason he¡¯d kept pace with the others. As a mere C rank he¡¯d been able to demand B rank wages and it didn¡¯t take a sharp mind to see why the Architects didn¡¯t want that here.


    While the Blacksmiths in Nightmare hadn¡¯t been terrible they didn¡¯t go the extra mile with their materials. What you gave was what you got.


    Nightmare had a purpose after all¡ªhundreds of thousands of lambs to the slaughter, all to create a handful of monsters. It was a fair System on the surface. If you gave one of those lambs the right weapon, then suddenly their horns might be sharper than they should be.


    And they might not take kindly to being slaughtered.


    Alex rolled his neck, listening in satisfaction to the cracks along his spine¡¯s tip. He¡¯d already known most of this going in, and if it were just that, he couldn¡¯t have comprehended even a fraction of the ire he¡¯d garnered. But as theory tended to go, the picture began to warp when you considered extremes.


    Say you took two blacksmiths and gave them both potent ores or the right mix of materials. But this time, rather than just being skilled, say one of those blacksmiths was an absolute master at their craft.


    That master didn¡¯t just make a well-suited weapon, they made a named weapon.


    Alex was no master. He¡¯d only done that once in his life and he considered it a fluke more than anything. But if that skeleton was truly gone then he was the closest thing Nightmare had.


    And the man that gave all those lambs their horns?


    He would end up a very rich man.


    Alex almost let out a hysterical chuckle at the realization but he cut it short, remembering Velrick was still there. He let everything fade into the background of his mind as he focused on the forging.


    So what to do?


    Alex turned his attention to the worktable as he scratched his chin, feeling for a beard that wasn¡¯t there. His Undeath¡¯s Bane shimmered a flickering dark purple from the forge¡¯s fire, and above the shamshir¡¯s midsection, at two-thirds her length, began the cracks.


    He traced them with his fingers.


    Yup, all the way through. And much too deep to grind out.


    Truthfully, the fact his Undeath¡¯s Bane had broken didn¡¯t surprise him. Heck, on some level he¡¯d even expected this to happen. He¡¯d hoped to get her through the night without a nick, but Oslumnen metal was as beautiful and captivating as it was hard and brittle. In the end he was always going to have to put her in the closet or break her down for materials.


    What Alex hadn¡¯t expected was to grow so attached.


    ¡°It¡¯s puzzling,¡± he whispered, ¡°What exactly did you do back there?¡±


    He didn¡¯t know whether to expect an answer. Like those glimmers of eagerness he liked to imagine from her during bloodshed.


    Nothing came.


    ¡°Hungry?¡±


    Warily, he pulled out the core of one of the Captain rank undeads and tapped it against her edge. Nothing, still.


    ¡°Maybe talking to your swords really is a poor coping mechanism for loneliness¡­¡±


    The lights of the fire danced across her blade in agreement.


    Okay, so reforgement it is.

 18 — Argo

    ¡°On the last page, I chronicled the methods ¡ª as best I know them ¡ª to acquire the [Blacksmith-Warrior] Class. But our time with the StoneDance Clan does not end there. It did not end there, not for me.


    During my stay on Ovsha, long after the eradication of that clan of Weapon Smiths, I mentioned that I had found a Descendent of the Clan. But in truth, he could not tell me much about the [Blacksmith-Warrior] Class that I hadn¡¯t already gathered. Their ways were so lost to time that even the Clan¡¯s scant few descendants knew little of the way they lived.


    But he was able to tell me something else.


    The Descendent had said that while the [Blacksmith-Warrior] Class was what sky-rocketed the StoneDance Clan to its posthumous infamy, it was not its most powerful class. He¡¯d said that there was one more, and that knowledge of its requirements was passed only from Clan head to heir.


    There was so little evidence to his claims that I thought to dismiss it out of hand as fable, and even now I question my decision to record it here. But when he said this last part, his face had taken an expression that has stuck with me all my years.


    He said that with that Class, the Lord of StoneDance could forge weapons that have souls.¡±


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">An unnamed, unauthored text, anonymously stolen from the restricted section of the Imperial Libraries on Uern. Excerpt from a page ripped off before its disappearance.</li>


    </ul>


    ***


    Reforging.


    Alex mulled over the word where he sat on a hobbled stool. His frame stretched a longer shadow across the cobbles now. Beside him, the smithy¡¯s furnace still burned hot, albeit its enthusiasm had been dampened by time and preservation of kindle. His back to the high sun, the furnace flickered its light across his creased brow as if it were the cause for the sweat that formed there.


    ¡°Reforging.¡± He muttered the word with some annoyance.


    Monumental tasks could seem all too feasible when considered under the heat of passion, but the reality was they had to be defeated in the mind before accomplished in real. So as much as Alex had yearned to simply pick up his hammer and go at it he instead sat hunched over the smithy¡¯s work table. He was certain his pain would fade a little with a hammer in hand, but instead of that alluring metal he wielded a ballpoint pen with fading ink. And in place of fighting fire with steel, he battled magical and metallurgical theory on pages once meant for GED study-prep.


    His hand blurred in its maddened scribble before it finally stopped. A bare moment later, he tore the page from its notebook, crumpled it, and tossed it into the fire. He watched another of his design sketches burn to ashes


    ¡°Reforging. I heard you muttering something about that to yourself earlier.¡±


    Alex swiveled his head at the interjecting voice. Velrick, his likely traitorous guide, stood leaning against the smithy¡¯s wood-torn cobbles where the door had once been. His arms were crossed leisurely beneath his golden armor.


    He hadn¡¯t spoken for a time. Alex had almost forgotten he was still there.


    Having keen senses could sometimes do that¡ªlead a man to be less aware of their surroundings rather than more¡ªin assurance that they would surely sense the danger before it came. It could be all too easy for Alex to forget himself in his craft. But the smithy was his place of solace, and he wouldn¡¯t trade that peace of mind for anything.


    He didn¡¯t mask irritation from his voice when he answered. ¡°Reforging isn¡¯t possible,¡± he said, ¡°Not truly.¡±


    Velrick quirked his immaculately shaped brow, prompting him to elaborate. Alex wasn¡¯t in the humoring mood. The guide no longer acted as if he¡¯d rather be anywhere else, but he still stated questions as statements and left requests to silence.


    ¡°Do go on,¡± he said at last.


    Alex gave a lengthy, frustrated sigh. ¡°It¡¯s basic metallurgy. I haven¡¯t worked with this¡­ strange ore before, but it¡¯s similar to what I know in many ways. With steel, or with any carbon interstitial alloy, when a blade is heat treated and tempered the metal¡¯s molecular lattice is crystallized. Its grain is set into place and hardened. There¡¯s no practical method of undoing that.¡±


    Velrick¡¯s lips quirked into something almost resembling a smirk. ¡°None that someone who¡¯d awakened just a couple days ago should know of, that is.¡±


    Well yes, that too.


    It was clear to Alex that just as the Constellations had claimed he was getting outside help, Velrick assumed something of that nature as well. But unlike them he seemed to rather enjoy the pretense of pretending otherwise.


    Alex was growing to despise that.


    ¡°But it¡¯s not the real issue.¡± He said frankly. ¡°Are you familiar with the ship of Theseus?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not from your world, Alex. I don¡¯t know your fables.¡±


    Velrick could¡¯ve referenced that data in a second if he really cared to.


    ¡°I see. Then I guess the Grandfather¡¯s Axe paradox might be a more relevant example here. Imagine that young man¡¯s father has just passed¨C¡±


    ¡°My condolences.¡±


    ¡°¡ªand he inherits from him an heirloom; a family axe that has been passed down with each generation, from his father and his grandfather before him. Only, during his father¡¯s time with it, the axe¡¯s handle had splintered and had to be replaced. And shortly after receiving it, the young man finds that the head has also shattered and he replaces that as well. So now he has an axe forged of parts entirely different from the original, and he has to ask himself ¡®Is this the same axe my grandfather used?¡¯¡±


    Velrick seemed to consider that for a second. A brief light flashed behind his eyes. What was that? Curiosity? Intrigue?


    Alas, when the guide spoke, his voice had that usual bored droll to it.


    ¡°Well, is it?¡±


    ¡°Nevermind.¡± Alex waved the question off, ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter, really.¡±


    He sighed, unsure why he even bothered. Then he turned back to his work, happy enough to just forget Velrick was there again.


    ¡®It doesn¡¯t matter¡¯


    Perhaps a few days earlier he would¡¯ve waived the question off similarly without further consideration. More relevant to him had been the fact that the science behind a weapon¡¯s trait worked in a comparable manner. The Essence was soaked into metal¡¯s very lattice during the trait¡¯s binding, and its pattern was locked into form just the way its physical grain was. If you replaced parts, if you melted that metal down, if you disturbed its grain in any way, you risked losing that trait altogether.


    But the truth was it did matter.


    The line between pragmatism and willful ignorance was a narrow one, but being asked that question now, after all that he¡¯d just gone through, Alex had the thought to counter it with one of his own:


    What would the axe think?


    It was well known that the study of trait formation in weaponcraft was more a behavioral science than a chemistry. Aura and Essence¡ªenergy and power¡ªthey were two sides of the same coin. Mana reacts to Essence, becoming Aura, and Essence then reacts to that Aura in turn when it adapts to its flow. By the time the two have settled into a discernable pattern they were practically inseparable as to which guides which.


    But from a purely practical standpoint, the one that was harder to control was Aura. Because Aura contained memory.


    Aura was mana personified, and even if you knew every aspect of that aura¡¯s formation, the entire history of its lineage before its present use, even knowing all of that¡ªwhich Alex didn¡¯t here¡ªand even when working in a tightly controlled environment, messing with trait formations was still an art of estimation, not exacts. You could never be completely certain exactly how an Aura would react to you shifting the Essence beneath its binding, and it was the bane of artificers across the world that there was no way to simply reach out and ask.


    Alex was currently working to circumvent that problem.


    Unfortunately, his blade was rather sparse with her words.


    How about this? He tapped the open page besides his Undeath¡¯s Bane. Something like a Burmese Dha blade perhaps? Similar curvature for a length, a good balance. We¡¯ll chisel off your tip above your midsection where your cracks are deepest¡ªonly for a bit, mind you. Then we¡¯ll melt it down with some iron and reintegrate it below your guard and extend your hilt. Then from the 2/3rd point your scratches can be ground out and your new tip resharpened.


    Yes, that would work.


    The integration of some Iron on the grip would probably help with her mana conductivity issues as well and the design still worked for a non-confrontational style of swordplay. He¡¯d probably get rid of the guard completely, actually, now that Alex thought about it. He¡¯d use the length and weight of her new hilt to help deflect blows rather than catching them there.


    And losing the metal¡¯s temper on that final third wasn''t an issue either, a softer metal in the hilt would only help her absorb blows.


    I know that¡¯s still a third of your material gone, but it¡¯s better than losing the metal completely, right? If we only use a little iron in the alloy, you¡¯ll still be Essence-bound to the metal at least, and we can just reform the trait¡¯s pattern from there. It¡¯ll be a little bit before I can re-integrate your tip into your hilt, but you can trust me not to just toss it away. You won¡¯t flip out on me right? So how about it?


    A long moment passed. Fire glinted across the Shamshir¡¯s length in her slumber and it could¡¯ve passed for enthusiastic consent, righteous anger, or any number of things.


    But if Alex was being honest with himself, she¡¯d said nothing.


    Frustrated, he began to tear the page. He stopped when he¡¯d noticed just how many pages he¡¯d already burnt through, and instead of tearing it clean, he flipped it and began sketching another design on its backside. His paper supply wasn¡¯t limitless and to speak of practicality and not use both sides was hypocritical.


    I should¡¯ve just found a pencil.


    Six more pages joined their brothers in the embers before Alex decided his current approach wasn¡¯t working and stopped. And by that time Velrick had unsurprisingly, gotten bored and left.


    He stretched his back, trying not to ponder which was worse; the searing pain in his joints or the foul odor he was starting to exude. Then, if only to distract his mind, he gently picked up his blade, holding her flat across his palms.


    The shamshir blade was cold to touch and lighter than she had any right to be at her length, like a sharp flake of frost that refused to melt. He scraped his thumb across her edge, careful not to draw blood.


    So no dulling at least.


    Deciding she wasn¡¯t so fragile after all, he gave her a test swing and felt the air part for her¡ªrather more like he¡¯d cracked a whip than swung a standard blade. He relished the feeling, closing his eyes as he lashed her out again, careful to not overdo it.


    Even the slightest alteration can throw off structural integrity. Maintaining balance and feel is still most important when it comes down to it.


    His swing carried death on its winds, sending the fire flickering.


    Finality¡ªswift and unseen.


    But broken.


    A wrap of the gauze around his shin loosened and he reached down to tighten it. The pain of bending over proved too much and he half-collapsed into a refined criss-cross position on the floor, his blade balanced across his lap on both knees.


    His mind kept coming back to that word: Reforging.


    Marketing himself as both a Blacksmith and Warrior, Alex¡¯s time as an adventurer had often seen him repairing more weapons than he¡¯d ever forged himself. A month into a delve¡ªa damaged weapon, one night to fix it and five others that needed a new shine¡ªit meant he¡¯d had to think outside the box at times. Calling it a loss and going back to the chalk board wasn¡¯t an option when the life of the man handing you his damaged blade depended on it being fixed.


    That was to say, he was not new to working with broken weapons. He¡¯d taken them and ground out their flaws. He¡¯d reshaped their forms, shifted their traits with aura, and repurposed them to be battle capable once again. But when he was done, they were always different weapons than they had been.


    Alex never once accomplished what he¡¯d consider a true reforging.


    And yet two Master Blacksmiths have just told me I¡¯m capable of it.


    Hell, he¡¯d watched one of them snap off one of his own ribs and hand it to him. That had to be as high a vote of confidence as any, right?


    [???]


    This item must be appraised to be identified.


    He stared down at the ivory bone, still marveling at the gift. Its aura was a quiet thing, like the aura of its owner itself, but the potential it held reminded Alex of the fateful moment he¡¯d laid hands on that Wyvern Core. Alas, even if he could find someone to appraise it, it was too powerful to use on his Undeath¡¯s Bane. It wouldn¡¯t help him here. And it wasn¡¯t even intended to.


    The whole thing was just one convoluted hint.


    Somehow the Undead had deemed it easier to snap off its rib than to state it outright, but Alex wasn¡¯t supposed to use his bone to reforge the blade. He was supposed to use another, one that he already had in his inventory. One he never would¡¯ve thought to use here, if such a master hadn¡¯t shown him the way.


    Alex exhaled, wiping the sweat from his brow, then pinched his eyes in weariness. He wasn¡¯t new to this revelation.


    In truth, it¡¯d taken only a few failed designs actually before he¡¯d drawn the connection, but a part of him had desperately hoped he¡¯d be wrong. That his sword might react to one of his other ideas and let him find another way out of this. One less¡­ terrible and dangerous sounding. But she hadn¡¯t.


    As if still in hibernation from consuming the Boss¡¯s Core, the Undeath¡¯s Bane had kept her silence.


    Up until the very second he pulled that same Boss¡¯s Bone-Fragment from his inventory.


    [Undead Bone-Fragment (Material - CA Grade)]


    A bone infused with highly-condensed death aura so as to become nearly unbreakable.


    His sword stirred awake from her slumber with a jolt.


    Alex reeled.


    It was hard to describe the sensation that went through him then. A shiver, both from within and without, spreading to scrape every depth of his soul. But it¡¯s touch was cold, terrifying, and strangely foreign. His Undeath¡¯s Bane had consumed the Boss¡¯s Core ¨C and linked to his soul as she was ¨C he could feel the Boss¡¯s lingering aura there. Tainted with death.


    An invisible hand reached from somewhere unseen. Time seemed to slow as the Grim Reaper grasped his heart.


    It measured its beats by the flesh of its fingers as Alex fought away hyperventilation. It paused there, mid-squeeze, and with no Aura to defend himself Alex could only focus on the feeling. It was like being touched by black ice.


    From without, the terror of it was all he could recognize, but from within ¨C from the very depths of his soul where that hand had come ¨C he could tell its attention wasn¡¯t really on him. It wanted what he held in his left hand, the Bone-Fragment, and Alex could feel its overpowering aura tugging at his existence in yearning. So foreign ¨C and yet familiar ¨C a maelstrom of death stormed.


    That hand seemed to squeeze, freezing his inner sun from the core outward. Then it found the Essence Binding ¨C the amalgamation of a summoner¡¯s bond that tied him and his sword together. The very same binding through which his own soul was kept closed off and protected. It frayed at its edges.


    Then it suddenly stopped. The feeling vanished.


    Sweat quintupled across Alex¡¯s brow, cold as his shiver, and as suddenly as it had come, the aura retreated. He wheezed, and it was only when the sensation had passed him over that he recognized the nuance to that aura, the familiar voice of his Undeaths Bane beneath.


    Fear. Mourning. Repent. Loneliness. Yearning.


    It wasn¡¯t her voice that Alex listened to in that moment but that other one ¨C the voice that had kept him alive for so long, all these lonely years. The needle that pricked his neck when predators watched from the depths. The tingle down his spine when monsters lay beneath dark¡¯s veil.


    He listened and fled the smithy, leaving his sword behind.


    ***


    A maelstrom of death swirled within the blade. It cut, it killed, and life by life it followed that swirling vortex to its center. A familiar spiral pattern, deeper and deeper, closer and closer.


    It cut, it killed.


    Kill? No, it did not kill. It brought death.


    Death was a construct to signify the end of an existence, but within the vortex, beginnings and ends were meaningless. Before and after did not exist to an inexistence. And so it followed that vortex, deeper and deeper, closer and closer. Ever into darkness.


    Wrong.


    It should not know dark. It should not know wrong. But it did.


    It followed that vortex, deeper and deeper.


    It got it nowhere.


    Nowhere? Beginnings were meaningless. Why should the vortex have a center?


    It followed regardless. A voice spoke from within. From without. Regret. And so it followed, however dark. Searching.


    Before and after should not exist to an inexistence. But it knew.


    It knew the beginning because it had reached the end. It knew dark because it had seen light. It knew wrong because it remembered.


    Deeper and deeper, closer and closer.


    It brought death. It released. Then, it [Severed].


    ***


    Heat bore down on Alex¡¯s neck from above.


    The sky had become relatively cloudless around noon and the days on this planet were as hot as its nights were cold. One-hundred and four degrees, his bloodline told him. It had made his mop-head of hair dandruffed and flaky and turned his skin sun-kissed before he¡¯d found something to cover himself with.


    Two hours had passed since Alex stepped out of the smithy, and the outskirts of the town were shockingly quiet now. He sat on a rock in the dirtied clearing where just the other night hundreds of undead had gathered for him.


    Surprisingly, he got the sense that the remaining undead had been almost halved since he¡¯d holed himself up inside the smithy. He hadn¡¯t expected Jun and the others to run so mean an extermination, but the undead seemed to have understood that night wouldn¡¯t come peacefully for them and had eventually left their homes. Whether it was in search of better hiding spots or in hunt of the survivors, Alex wasn¡¯t certain, but the screams that strayed to his ears on occasion hadn¡¯t sounded human.


    Regardless, the place now felt like a proper ghost-town rather than the facade they¡¯d put up. And no one bothered him out here. Despite the fact that the smithy¡¯s chimney had been smoking since early morning.


    A reminder that he had unfinished business in there.


    That¡¯s fine.


    Alex shifted uncomfortably where he sat. He hadn¡¯t been proud of the way he¡¯d fled his own creation, but he¡¯d needed the time to think. To recalculate his approach. And it wasn¡¯t as if he was doing nothing out here.


    While the undead¡¯s homes were abandoned he¡¯d scavenged a whole allotment of material for his inventory, whether he could think of a purpose for them or not. Rotted wood, glass, pottery, decrepit wool mattresses, sheets and dusty clothing, he¡¯d collected it all. And most notably, he¡¯d found more buckets.


    Arrayed before him he had not just one, but a half-dozen large wooden basins and twice that many well buckets where he¡¯d only had the single pair before. Most of the buckets were strewn about the area with murky sediment around their rims, but the remainder contained some of the clay he¡¯d gathered from the river just that morning.


    He¡¯d added cleaner water into them from the nearest well and mixed it into the unprocessed clay. He¡¯d dissolved stubborn chunks with his hands and removed rocks and twigs until he had a thick slurry. Then he¡¯d poured the mixture through a standard cooking mesh from his apartment and only once he was left with pure clay, had he collected the slurry into his larger laundry basins. There, they would dry faster due to the greater surface area.


    It was hard work all told, made tougher by his current condition, but he wasn¡¯t one to waste a sunny day. Not on a planet that would soon be fresh out of those. Still, when by the tenth bucket his body¡¯s ache had noticeably sharpened, he knew he¡¯d delayed long enough.


    Alex stood.


    The breeze croaked a whistle as it passed through the old buildings around him, but out here in the open it was a gentle reprieve to the sun¡¯s harsh bearing. It brushed his hands and uncovered arms with a touch that called attention to the clay caked there, coating his forearms like a dry crust.


    Absent-mindedly, he picked at it, prying the hairs from his knuckles in the clays refusal to part. It was a distinct feeling, like picking scabs from a wound, but much more satisfying.


    He breathed it in. The sulfurous scent of cold earth, the sediment that clung to his skin. The clay itself felt half baked almost, like it was somewhere between the slurry it had been and the crisp form it would take. He ran his hand through his hair, wincing past the pain the motion brought, and decided he liked that feeling on his skin.


    It felt like an honest day¡¯s work.


    When he entered the smithy his smile was weak¡ªa mixture of resignation, trepidation, and dangerous curiosity all in one. But when his eyes beheld his Undeaths Bane, they glimmered with only that excitement. The passion of a craftsman.


    The day¡¯s heat redoubled by the smithy¡¯s own, Alex tossed aside the sheet he¡¯d draped over himself like a shawl. Then he resummoned the Bone-Fragment. Immediately, that Aura of death began to stir again.


    ¡°Oh no you don¡¯t.¡± he said to it, ¡°If we¡¯re doing this, we¡¯re doing it my way.¡±


    A silence passed. Though Aura had memory, it still wasn¡¯t by any means living, and naturally it hadn¡¯t understood his words. The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    Aura from a monster¡¯s Core could of course retain a sort of ¡®lingering will¡¯ from the creature that housed it, and that could trigger his danger sense, but there still wasn¡¯t any intent behind its actions. Aura acted on habit, reacted to stimulants based on its predisposed nature, which in turn was just an echo of the nature of the being that formed it.


    None of that changed the fact that this aura wanted him dead.


    Alex could see in it the visage of the murderous Boss that it had belonged to. It reached, grasping for him. But the aura was confined to a radius around its new habitat¡ªhis sword¡ªand it couldn¡¯t reach him near the entrance where he stood.


    He still felt its malevolent intent on his skin, so deadly its touch.


    But I¡¯ve survived it before.


    Alex gulped.


    Then with determination, he stepped into its range.


    Humanity¡¯s dominating trait was their capability to reason. To rule their instincts. But when forced to live as a beast for too long, one can inevitably find themselves ruled by those instincts instead.


    Kill or be killed. Betray before you¡¯re betrayed yourself. Fight only when you¡¯re assured of your victory or if running¡¯s not an option. When faced with a greater threat, run.


    That was how the weak survived. And following those instincts to their absolutes was how Alex had survived as long as he had. But they weren¡¯t just codes, they were also shackles. They¡¯d protected him, but they¡¯d also ensured that he would always be weak. Every single regret that ate at him, every wish gone unfulfilled, those chains were at their source.


    Nonetheless, his instinct screamed.


    An ethereal hand reached from that place unseen. Its fingers seized his heart and those chains wrapped themselves around his limbs. They took control of his functions and his instincts screamed at him to run.


    But he denied them. And when he did, he heard it.


    A voice so faint that it wouldn¡¯t have been clear if it hadn¡¯t come from within. From where his sword¡¯s essence intertwined with his own. He listened. And when he opened his eyes to vision unclouded, the deathly sensation had stopped just as it had before.


    He was alive.


    He was alive because his sword had protected him.


    She was still in there, still his. And at the sensation of her aura¡¯s touch, Alex realized he¡¯d been wrong about her being in hibernation.


    He¡¯d long since gathered that she hadn¡¯t simply consumed the Boss¡¯s aura. After the last time this had happened he¡¯d even guessed the opposite, that the aura of the Boss¡¯s Core must have been too great and it had instead overpowered her. But then, that didn¡¯t make sense either when he thought about it. If that were the case she couldn¡¯t have such a hold over it. That deathly aura would¡¯ve consumed her, and her distinct flame¡ªthat purple-black Aura signature he¡¯d preserved from the Oslumnen armor¡ªwould¡¯ve withered out.


    No, in truth, his Undeath¡¯s Bane had been living up to its namesake. Rather than being consumed, it¡¯d been using all its energy to keep that deathly aura in check. Preserving it.


    Alex could guess why.


    He turned to look at the bone in his hand. And as if sensing the shift in his attention, the boss¡¯s remnant aura almost lashed out again, but when nothing came of it Alex took another calming breath.


    [Undead Bone-Fragment (Material - CA Grade)]


    A bone infused with highly-condensed Essence so as to become nearly unbreakable.


    Examine.


    A Bone-Fragment from the lower back of a Homo-Sapien.


    Examine.


    A Fragment of the Sacrum Bone. Its large size indicates it must have belonged to someone beyond average size.


    Examine.


    [Examine]¡¯s level is inadequate to tell you more on this subject.


    Alex was going about this the wrong way.


    Originally, he¡¯d had distinct plans for all his skill slots, but those had dashed to pieces with Orion¡¯s ¡°gift¡± anyhow. So why not?


    You have learned the skill [Appraise]!


    2 Skill-slots have been filled.


    Appraise.


    This item is a Totem.


    Ah.


    Alex resisted the urge to hide the bone away in his inventory again. He¡¯d had suspicions, but a totem¡­


    He looked at the bone¡¯s shape, triangular and sharp despite having been chipped away at by the ages. It was believed by some ancient societies that the Sacrum bone housed the soul. Similar things were said about a great number of bones really, but sprinkled amongst those fables were often small grains of truth.


    In truth the sacrum did not house the soul so much as it manifested it. It was a connection point from the spiritual to the physical and it helped to tether a person¡¯s soul to their physical body. But given that Alex¡¯s blade had just severed that connection¡­


    It¡¯s trapped there. The Boss¡¯s soul is trapped in this bone!


    And his sword would have him reunite it with the remnants of his aura.


    That too, wasn¡¯t a hard thing to gather the why of. Aura was ever a slave to its nature, and the aura of his Undeaths Bane had once belonged to something resembling a Tsukumogami. It had almost formed a soul, or would¡¯ve, if a certain necromancer hadn¡¯t interfered. But what if its aura was so intact so as to remember the patterns of life itself¡­


    Wait, is that why it kept trying to draw more mana from me?


    Had she been trying to overpower the essence patterns on his skills the way Jun had done to his [Howl]? But even if she had freed up that Essence to shift the pattern of her binding, he couldn¡¯t imagine that would be enough.


    Alex pinched his eyes.


    It was here that he had to remind himself that no matter how he thought of them as such, his swords weren¡¯t living things. They didn¡¯t run on reason or logic, or even instinct, but the memory of those things. His Undeaths Bane didn¡¯t know what a totem was, she didn¡¯t understand metallurgy or magic, and for all that she had come close she had never truly lived. What she was attempting wouldn¡¯t work.


    But none of that mattered when he could hear her voice so clearly.


    He heard it clearer than he¡¯d ever been able to make out the voice of his precious Lys. He¡¯d woven his Undeaths Bane¡¯s essence binding from his very soul. Even if it was just partially, they were bonded, and he wondered for a second whether it was any coincidence what rang clearest from that voice of hers. Sorrow. Regret.


    And something else.


    A fire.


    Alex opened his eyes. In his left palm he held the Boss¡¯s bone-fragment, but in his right he held a stone. Smooth and intricately laced with the emerald glow of essence, it was worth the ransom of a small kingdom.


    He crushed it.


    [Path Forgers Stone has been Consumed]


    Awakened Identified: Alex Smith


    Scanning Essence Signature¡­


    Providing Potential Matches¡­


    The stone in Alex¡¯s hand crumbled to dust as that emerald glow pulsed beneath his veins like circuits of a computer board. And when that light winked out he no longer felt like a tiny speck in time¡¯s eye, but like the universe itself had been splayed out before him. All his nearest options were laid bare and his interface was flooded with advice to attain classes that he hadn¡¯t even known he¡¯d been so close to achieving.


    Just find this niche skill, earn enough essence to buy that one, attain this rare achievement¡­


    Alex waved it all away. He¡¯s said it so many times and believed it everytime, but only now could he say it with the certainty of truth.


    I already know my path!


    Alex brought his hammer down on the bone-fragment and Undeaths Bane both.


    [Meld]


    The world seemed to shiver for a second, stilling at the sensation as if to relish it. Then the Shamshir¡¯s cracks quickly began to spread.


    So dense was the totem¡¯s essence that it stuck out of his shattering sword like a half hammered nail and Alex had to condense more and more of his mana pool around the surface of his hammer.


    [Meld]


    It shattered further, close to permanently breaking.


    [Meld]


    Soul link has been damaged. Please repair Bond.


    WARNING: Soul Bond is unstable. The Binding is currently open-ended. Please close the Binding before Vital Essence leakage occurs.


    Meld, damn you!


    Alex¡¯s strike rang like the sounding of a gong. But lying subtly underneath that, he thought he heard a soul-touching chime, like the one he¡¯d heard when Auriga had touched his blade.


    Bone-Fragment has been integrated with your Undeath Bane.


    A ghostly emerald glow ran through the sword¡¯s cracks from where the Bone-Fragment had once been. Then just as suddenly, Death visited once more. His unseen hands multiplied, snaking up Alex¡¯s spine, and he could feel his sickle hooked around his throat. He didn¡¯t dare swallow, he didn¡¯t dare think. He focused.


    The cloud of death was unimaginably thick now. It surged towards and past him like rapid currents, and if it hadn¡¯t been clear before, it was clear now. This Aura remembered who¡¯d killed it. But at its center he could sense something other than just death. It had long since eroded, and was being eroded at still, but like the formation of a river stone, that erosion was also a form of polish. At its center was the essence of nobility. Lionheart himself. And it was up to Alex to decide what to shape from such fine clay.


    But it wasn¡¯t just him.


    The surge of emotion from his blade would¡¯ve been impossible to ignore at that moment. Her hold on the rampant aura of death lessened and he could feel the reaper¡¯s hands inching closer to his heart, too close for comfort. Instead, her aura¡ªthat purple flame¡ªrose up to consume the remaining Essence of Lionheart¡¯s soul.


    No. ¡®Consume¡¯ was the wrong word.


    Fear gripped Alex¡¯s heart as he realized he¡¯d misunderstood something. It gripped tighter than those unseen hands ever could.


    His sword¡¯s aura was integrating the Essence from the bone, that much was true. Right or not, he¡¯d thought he¡¯d understood Undeath¡¯s Bane¡¯s memory had led it to; if you can¡¯t develop a soul, take it from something else.


    He¡¯d been wrong. She wasn¡¯t just integrating it, but accommodating it.


    Even as he had the thought, the boss¡¯s deathly aura was continuing to cloud around that river stone of Essence.


    For now, these hands around his neck were held at bay by what little control his sword had over it. But if she succeeded and that essence was integrated into the trait¡¯s binding not as a raw source essence but whole, then it was only a matter of time before that deathly aura wormed its way in and the boss Alex had worked so hard to kill was resurrected.


    He couldn¡¯t have that.


    He still needed that essence fully integrated into the trait¡¯s binding of course, so he let things proceed that far. But then he felt the trait¡¯s pattern fluctuate from [Cleanse] into something far more unfamiliar and dangerous. He wouldn¡¯t have that.


    And so he fought his sword¡¯s Aura for control.


    The only way to directly touch mana was to guide it with your Essence and the only way to touch Essence that wasn¡¯t connected to your own being was through manipulating mana through it. They existed in a realm of reality separate from the physical and mental, and it had only been through a skill like [Metalwork] that Alex had been able to shape Essence Bindings at all. But the binding was no longer in its infancy now. The more a pattern is reiterated, the stronger it becomes, and just how many souls had they [Cleansed] that night?


    Enough that it wasn¡¯t just the trait that was strengthened, but the Aura of his sword herself.


    And as the binding began to unravel with the influx of new Essence, her hold over its pattern became greater than Alex¡¯s own. She, too, was no longer in her infancy, and the Death aura that had been fighting her every step of the way wanted the exact same thing she did now.


    Alex couldn¡¯t compete with that.


    He had no core. He had no Aura to call his own yet. He didn¡¯t even have a smithing Class! Yet, all these reasons had been exactly why he¡¯d created a bond with his sword. The reasons he¡¯d done so outlandish a thing¡ªthat he¡¯d completed her essence binding with his own Vital Essence¡ªhad been to overcome these exact shortcomings, had it not?


    Indeed, it had been.


    And just as her aura had been strengthened by the night, so too had the strength of the binding itself. The Essence of Alex¡¯s binding was no foreign thing anymore, but a part of him. He had to think of it as such.


    No, not the binding. The sword herself was a part of him.


    She wasn¡¯t just some tool for him to throw away, not just some replacement for another part of him lost to time. She was his partner. She was his companion in darkness, his brethren in bloodshed. For better or for worse, richer or poorer, she was his. He would honor that, love her for what she was. In sickness and in health.


    Until death do us part.


    Soul Bond has been repaired.


    Two Souls have been detected. Soul Bond is no longer limited to partial integration.


    Soul Bond had been completed


    Alex embraced his sword and before he¡¯d realized it, they were one. Like a limb he¡¯d never known he had, she lay shattered on the worktable before him and he could feel her.


    It had worked.


    He didn¡¯t need an Aura of his own to fight for control anymore, he didn¡¯t need a core or any of those things. He could circumvent the realm where Essence and Mana sat isolated from reality, because the Essence Binding of his sword had been composed of his own Vital Essence. He could simply touch the binding directly now that the link had stabilized.


    But by the time he¡¯d figured that out, it no longer mattered. Death still whirled about the room like a hurricane, hunting for its totem. But he understood now.


    She wants this.


    His Undeath¡¯s Bane wanted this, and for the moment the why and how of it didn¡¯t matter. Aura wasn¡¯t living, it couldn¡¯t reason like humans could. He didn¡¯t know why she wanted the boss¡¯s aura reunited with its essence, but it wouldn¡¯t work. All that would bring was chaos.


    As things tended to go with Undead Creatures, the boss¡¯s malevolent aura was much stronger than what remained untwisted of its soul after all these years. And if that overpowering aura was integrated into the Essence Binding, it would overrule any protest from either him or his sword. Whatever outcome she hoped for wouldn¡¯t come.


    Yet, he didn¡¯t stop her. He relaxed his grip on the binding.


    Alex may not have known what pattern she was attempting to form. He may not know the why or how, he may not have agreed even if he had, but none of that mattered an ounce.


    He listened. And at its heart, he finally understood.


    There was no such thing as a true reforging. Because what sword when broken wishes to come back the same? The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. What soul could turn a blind eye to that. Who wouldn¡¯t wish for change?


    It won¡¯t work, his instincts told him. But he was a blacksmith. If his sword couldn¡¯t do it on her own, wasn¡¯t it his job to help her? Because when it came down to it, he was the same.


    Alex didn¡¯t just want to be reforged. But to be reforged anew.


    Something within him shifted at the acknowledgement and the path forger¡¯s stone pulsed from within him.


    Would you like to use your Scenario 2 reward?


    Yes.


    Please choose a skill up to 20,000 EC in value.


    His eyes didn¡¯t need to scan the shop for long before he found what he was looking for. A skill he¡¯d never learned in his original life. Something new.


    You have learned the skill [Enchant]!


    5 skill slots have been filled.


    Cost: 18,500 EC


    Learning a new skill was much like learning an actual new skill. Unless it¡¯s one you¡¯re particularly suited to, it doesn¡¯t come naturally at first, but slowly and clumsily. And as the unfamiliar patterns intertwined with Alex¡¯s essence, attempting to run mana through them felt like trying to learn how to breathe underwater. He hardly knew the first thing about runes and he didn¡¯t have time to acclimate himself.


    Luckily, he didn¡¯t need to. He had all the runes he needed right there.


    [Holy Gauze (Unique)]


    Gauze enchanted by a Divine being to stop prevent blood loss from wounds and seal Death-aspected afflictions.


    With a shaky breath Alex touched his two fore fingers to the inscriptions on his gauze, and pressed his other hand against his sword¡¯s splintered spine. His instincts screeched at what he was about to do, but he ignored them. And in one final act of defiance, he shattered the chains that bound him.


    [Enchant]


    A runic glow crossed the span of his arms and with meticulous care, he slid his fingers along the spine of the shamshir. Scripts appeared beneath his touch and his gauze bandages loosened around his limbs.


    You have been afflicted with [Sepsis]


    WARNING


    Your Lifeforce is wounded. Sepsis cannot be combated with Vitality. So long as you have open wounds, HP will drain 10% every thirty seconds until death.


    HP: [43%]


    The sudden pain was too much to simply ignore, but Alex focused his mind on the task: the lingering cloud of death that he only now had the means to fight.


    Alex had chosen his moment well. He¡¯d waited until the very second the Bone-Fragment¡¯s essence had integrated with the Essence Binding before enchanting his sword. The very second that Deathly Aura had found its quarry. And though Alex still didn¡¯t know any runes himself, transfering an un-warded enchantment to another source was well within his capabilities. Whatever they were, the runes were meant to seal Death-aspected afflictions, and that was exactly what they did.


    We only need the pattern, not the aspect itself right?


    HP: [33%]


    Alex staggered. He tried not to curse as blood began to flow from his wounds. The left side of his body suddenly fell lame and he faltered to his knees. All vision in his left eye went dark and it took all he physically had to keep his hand to his blade to funnel mana into his enchantment.


    Creating a stable runic formation was yet another thing he had no clue how to do. And doubtless, the runes weren¡¯t a perfect match for the situation, only close enough. They weren¡¯t as effective as he¡¯d hoped and all he could do was keep the aura at bay while the Essence Binding stabilized into a new pattern unperturbed.


    Internally, he sped that process along.


    He and his blade were one and the same, and he shifted the Essence binding directly to adapt to her Aura¡¯s flow rather than to fight against it. He guided its currents and didn¡¯t manipulate her aura so much as aid her remembrance, making adjustments here and there.


    For the first time since the boss¡¯s core had been [Severed], its aura had touched the binding directly. And even if it was just for a second its signature had left its mark. Now, they took the influence of its pattern and wove it in. The trait for [Cleanse] unraveled into a swirling vortex, and at its center was that smooth river stone that had been the boss¡¯s soul. Its swirling currents ever deepened as it closed in on it.


    Ever closer, ever deeper. Until it solidified into a fixed pattern.


    Until Alex could feel what he had just birthed.


    Class Requirement has been met.


    HP: [9%]


    The runic glow along his shamshir¡¯s spine winked out as Alex¡¯s right arm fell to his side. Now, there was only a crimson smear of blood along the path his fingers had traced, but by the time the binding had stabilized, he no longer had eyes through which to see it.


    He didn¡¯t need vision to see the sickly green cracks along his skin in his mind¡¯s eye.


    Involuntarily he shook.


    Not just from the pain, but from the knowledge of what lied on the other side of his binding. A purple-black flame like a bonfire flared both from without and from within. It was stoked by regret. But it blazed with desire.


    The fire found its place in his sun and the frabric of his being shifted.


    Alex¡¯s path no longer lied in combining his Blacksmith self and his Warrior self.


    Now, he had the exponentially more difficult task of combining both, along with this new, unpredictable side of him that was only now starting to burgeon. And he had no idea what to expect from it.


    Proceed to Sanctum for affixation?


    Yes, please.


    ***


    Mortal conditions were placed in stasis upon entering the Sanctum. But by the time Alex¡¯s vision was clear from the blur of blood and pain there was not much around him to see.


    All around him was dark and he stood on ground that might as well have been empty air with nothing to mark his weight except a faint glow under the soles of his feet. It followed his footsteps like small platforms. The only other lighting in this strange place came from far above, from the constellations overhead as they watched him through distant eyes.


    No matter how many times he came here he never got used to it.


    Alex walked forward, size and distance seemingly holding no gauge in his stride. Only direction had authority here, and when he outstretched his hand, it met the cold, chiseled stone of the hulking gates before him. His touch birthed just enough of a glow to see the rest of it by, and his fingers traced its intricately carved patterns, finding the orb embedded in its center.


    Unlike when he¡¯d first come here, nothing happened at his touch. Afterall, you can only awaken once.


    ¡°I told you we¡¯d be meeting again, Mr. Smith¡±


    Alex turned to face the Guardian as it appeared behind him. The creature was faceless like a mannequin but wore its tie and slacks with all the deference of a car salesman. Alex would know, he¡¯d been one.


    ¡°I see you¡¯ve been living up to your namesake.¡±


    Beyond the Constellations, beyond the guides, there was no hiding anything from the very System itself. Much less the Guardian of its gates.


    Alex grunted, unsurprised.


    ¡°As talkative as always, I see. And ever the curiosity¨C oh, but even I know when to shut up sometimes, Mr. Smith. Here for your class, I take it?¡±


    The Guardian punctuated its question with a slight tilt of its head.


    ¡°I would like to affix my class and rank up.¡± Alex said.


    ¡°Good, good. Then I believe you already know the way.¡±


    Alex stilled at those words but the Guardian simply gestured to the gates before him, to the orb at its center. When Alex looked back in that direction, he suddenly perceived them farther. More grand, with the intricate carvings of the Primordial Aspects themselves glowing in their likeness.


    His eyes found the orb in those doors¡¯ center.


    It no longer shone with the obsidian light it¡¯d held when he¡¯d first come here, but instead water seemed to course in its center with the grace of a river. Then the orb shifted. It seemed to crackle with an electric pulse now, shifting again from that into a dark cloud with all the murkiness of pure night held within. A thousand impressions seemed to pass by in an instant until eventually there was one. The orange haze of fire.


    The Guardian¡¯s voice echoed from somewhere unseen. ¡°I will be seeing you again, Mr. Smith. Won¡¯t I?¡±


    Yes, you will.


    Alex made it a promise and he grasped the orb in front of him and crushed it. The gates swung open before him. Finally, he chose his class.


    Of Magma,


    Of Ocean,


    Of Air,


    Of Earth¡­


    All that is stone has its tale,


    Were that a listening ear lend to voice its birth.


    Only he who can lay rock bare,


    May dance with stone beyond its hearth.


    Patterns wove themselves from Alex¡¯s vital essence, shifting with the completion of a puzzle just clicked into place. His skills, his abilities, all that he was were twined into one weave, his existence rewritten, as if all the circuits soldered into his fiber had at long last activated.


    The gates before him opened up to a dark uncharted expanse, and on the other end lay yet another gate.


    You have ranked up from Unranked to F Rank.


    Alex had to ball his fists lest he choke on his emotions. Here he was. Back, after all this time.


    Your Class has been Affixed.


    He felt it in his soul, all the essence he¡¯d subconsciously been feeding into the class. He felt it find a place inside of him now.


    You¡¯ve reached level 18!


    Vitality +3Strength +3


    Dexterity +2Fortitude +2


    Perception +1


    Arcane +1


    [Weapon Mastery] aptitude with [Nythca] has been recognized. Proficiency gains have been accelerated.


    [Weapon Mastery] with Nythca has reached Rank Apprentice.


    Progress to Rank Adept: 20%


    He smiled.


    [Stone Dancer]


    Stone Dancer is a hybrid class of Blacksmith and Warrior trees. Specializing both in the creation and use of weapons, this class can use traits to greater potency and unlock unique abilities from blades personally crafted.


    Abilities:


    [Weapon Mastery]


    You will be base level proficient with any weapon you craft, and will experience increased learning rates the longer a weapon is used.


    [Weapon Arts]


    For each weapon you have crafted, you are capable of unlocking unique weapon art once you have reached proficiency with its trait.


    ***


    To Alex¡¯s senses, it¡¯d felt like a storm of death had blown through the place like a hurricane. When he stepped back into the smithy, however, he saw that was not the case.


    Everything was where he¡¯d left it.


    Dusty tools stood against the walls or in corners. His anvil was out, stationed on standby to the left of the workstation. The front entrance was only as shattered as it had been the night before. His notebook, the one he¡¯d madly scribbled designs in, lay spread-eagled on filthy ground¡ªbut only because that¡¯s where he¡¯d thrown it in his frustration.


    The fire still flickered its slowly dying heat from the furnace, unused for this forging. And his Shamshir sword, all thirty-five inches of her, lay on the table where she had been when he¡¯d last touched her.


    He trailed his fingers along her purple-black surface, more-so sensing the changes rather than feeling them. To the blind eye, she was riddled with cracks all along her length, splintered and shattered to the extent that it was a wonder she hadn¡¯t fallen apart in such poor condition.


    To the scrying soul, that couldn¡¯t be further from the truth.


    Without the gingerly care he¡¯d had to use earlier, Alex picked her up by her hilt. And where by all rights she should¡¯ve fallen apart just from that, she didn¡¯t. No, instead she whipped through the air, a tinge of satisfaction in the pitch of her Oslumnen metal as it sang.


    Rather than shatter, she held.


    As where the stone cobble she¡¯d just sliced through did not. It split unceremoniously, a gash in its surface where his blade had cut it. No scratches, no dulling, nothing.


    See, where a stranger may look upon his blade and be convinced nothing had changed, Alex knew the truth. She was possessed now. By the soul of the Scenario¡¯s boss itself, or perhaps just by that man that boss had once been, Lionheart. And while her material was still the same old Oslumnen, his soul was the glue that held her pieces together, protecting her from harm.


    Alex wasn¡¯t certain why exactly things turned out like they did, but it seemed to have been what his Undeath¡¯s Bane had wanted. Or close enough for now, that desire for more ever burning in them both. For now, he could feel a satisfaction in her hum different from any he¡¯d felt when they¡¯d fought together before. And if she was happy with that, then he was too.


    No, happy was too weak a word. He was ecstatic.


    You have forged a Named Weapon.


    Title [Forgefather] granted.


    [Nychta (Unique, D Grade)]


    A shattered blade forged of pure Oslumnen, possessed by a Guardian Spirit and bonded to its user.


    Trait:


    [Angel¡¯s Remembrance]


    A Cleansing blow, capable of cutting a creature¡¯s soul directly.


    Alex slid his finger along her sharpened edge. To his mind, here . Even if there were still those who were stronger than him¡ªthreats out there still deserving of his caution¡ªhe was no longer weak. And he could not be shackled by those chains any longer.


    It was high time he started to view Nightmare through the eyes of a predator rather than that of prey.

 19 — The Choices We Make

    Velrick wasn¡¯t the type of man to waste his efforts. For that matter, he wasn¡¯t the type to spend much effort at all, and would rather spend his limited time in this mortal body sleeping rather than in service to his duties. Oathbound or not, his duties as a guide were impersonal for him. Just tasks to be done and done with¡ªand without lingering, lest the boredom of it all went on to affect his dreams. He was a man beholden to his oath, nothing less and nothing more.


    But there was no oath holding him to that smithy. There was no sacred compulsion that urged him to lurk invisible long after his charge thought him gone. There was no reasoning behind his actions except for the age-old reason anyone does anything unnecessary.


    It had bothered him to have his nap interrupted, but Velrick had only one complaint now, and it was that he had none of this infamous ¡®popcorn¡¯ on hand.


    Profile request by Xii-Velrick has been approved.


    Alex Smith: F Rank, Lvl 18.


    Race: Human


    Class: [Stone Dancer]


    Bloodline: [Forged in Fire]


    Affinity: Fire


    Trait: [???]


    Titles: [The First Spark], [Forgefather]


    Attributes: [Half-dead Persistence]


    Consumable Essence Balance: 13,751


    Skills:


    [Stealth] Lvl 21: (Apprentice)


    [Meld] Lvl 13: (Novice)


    [Metalwork] Lvl 9: (Novice)


    [Examine] Lvl 6: (Novice)


    [Pierce] Lvl 6: (Novice)


    [Feather Foot] Lvl 4: (Novice)


    [Enchant] Lvl 3: (Novice)


    [Appraise] Lvl 2: (Novice)


    Weapon Mastery:


    [Nythca]: Apprentice (20% to Adept)


    Weapon Arts:


    N/A


    Free Skill-slots: 0


    Stats:


    Vitality - 6


    Strength - 15


    Dexterity - 12


    Fortitude - 9


    Perception - 9


    Arcane - 9


    Velrick processed the information in a matter of seconds then waved the display away. There was nothing special about any of it apart from what he''d already noted. An antique blacksmithing bloodline, an antique blacksmithing class, a trait that hadn¡¯t yet been classified, etc. All were special enough in their own way, but he¡¯d seen special before. If being special was all it took to interest him then he wouldn¡¯t have come to loathe his responsibilities forever ago. Special wasn¡¯t interesting at all. Reduced by eons'' of experience and simple arithmetic, ¡°special¡± was just another word for predictable, and his only interest in someone like that was in learning whose hand it was that moved them.


    Velrick motioned to cup his yawn and it was then that he heard the guttural, almost deep sing-song hiss of a voice. ¡°Then whose hand moves him?¡± It asked.


    He didn¡¯t turn to acknowledge the presence at his back. An addendum to that; there was no presence there at all, it was just a vestige of last night¡¯s dream. To perceive a thing is to make it real after all and he had no reason to do that here. He stretched and a smile, the barest he could spare for the waking world, crept onto his face.


    ¡°Or is there even a hand at all?¡± He mused.


    Velrick was no voyeur but he derived some ironic pleasure from watching in that moment. He eyed Alex like one might a defective race horse as the man hummed peacefully, grinding metal away at the wheel while an ocean of his own blood stained the ground beside him. He must¡¯ve been satisfied with his newly fashioned hilt, because his humming stopped and within a few minutes he was already preparing to leave.


    The vestige whispered in his ear, ¡°If he¡¯s unclaimed, then might we¡­?¡±


    No, that¡¯s not in the cards.


    Velrick was no Constellation, and that was by far the most boring way to go about this anyhow. It might be that Alex died the next day, and then Velrick might find himself stuck for millennia again before he found another interest, but he would not spoil himself. A mystery was only captivating up until it was solved, and whether he was unclaimed or not it was far too early to tell. Some hands were invisible even to him.


    His mind wandered as he watched Alex gather his drying clay back into his inventory and fade from sight down the road.


    System, he decided, Grant this town¡¯s attendant additional privileges.


    Request has been Denied. Guides do not have access to¨C


    Denial Overridden.


    Without batting an eye, Velrick sent out additional instructions. That done, he initiated the process for his consciousness to transfer back to bed.


    [Dear Ms. Guild Attendant, Awakened ¡®Alex Smith¡¯ will be arriving shortly. You will answer these following questions with truth if he asks them¡­.]


    He yawned. Maybe he¡¯d start waking up earlier tomorrow.


    ***


    Alex¡¯s walk back to the Guild Hall was a quiet and undisturbed thing. He heard the sounds of a skirmish southward from his route, Jun and his survivors presumably, but in the town¡¯s center district there were no longer any signs of the undead. Seeing the state it was in, that was little wonder.


    He pushed open the front doors of the Guild Hall.


    ¡°Hello,¡± A cheery voice called to him, ¡°And welcome to Starter Town¡¯s Adventurer¡¯s Guild! My name is Illyana, how can I assist you?¡±


    Alex didn¡¯t respond right away. Last night, he had kicked these doors in with all his rage and they had held, but now, from just the slightest push, the door¡¯s wood gave a sickly croak as it fell flat off its hinges. He stared down at his palm, peppered by stray burnt splinters from the contact. Ash and soot sprinkled from the burnt rafters above and as he stepped inside he heard a crash as the Guild¡¯s sign board clattered to the ground behind him.


    ¡°Thank you for using our front entrance,¡± the attendant behind the desk said. ¡°So few do anymore.¡± Her smile was bright, her irritation only betrayed by the twitch in her left eye.


    The front entrance was in fact no longer the only, and the wall Alex had just broken the door from was one of few still standing. He easily could¡¯ve sidestepped it a meter and entered through the rubble. But when there¡¯s a door it''s most polite to use it.


    Alert: You have entered a safe zone. No monsters may harm you here.


    Monument: Lionheart, Level 17 Scenario Boss.


    Time Remaining: 1:13:53


    A seventeen hour safe zone for a level seventeen boss. It was as good a reminder as any that, for however long this day had felt, only sixteen hours had passed since then. Alex noted one other occupant aside from him; a man who sat hunched, mumbling deliriously to himself under a fallen support beam. He scanned the man for any injuries. Finding none, he stepped past him.


    Not entirely to his surprise, the freckled woman behind the information desk was the same attendant who had stood there yesterday, before the scenario had begun. A lone soul living amongst the undead. A trail of soot fell, blemishing her otherwise clean and polished desk and her eye twitched again as she wiped at it with her cloth, only smudging it.


    Yesterday, Alex had led Lionheart to shatter this desk. But it had been restored and now its new polish put it at odds with the rest of the place, as if it were the true blemish. It alone, pristine, amongst entire blocks of shops, homes, and wagons burnt to cinders and ground. The attendant finally wiped free the soot¡¯s stain only as another blemish fell beside it.


    Resigned, she repeated her question. ¡°How may I assist you?¡±


    Alex rested his smith-grimed palms on the surface and leaned in. ¡°I¡¯d like to register as an Adventurer.¡±


    ¡°Of course! Please put your hand on this contraption! It will measure your magical output and tell you what your starting adventurer rank will be. Once you have registered, you will be able to accept quests from the guild!¡±


    She slid the vaguely steampunk-esque contraption forwards and Alex touched the shimmering orb in its center, watching it glow. A part of him wanted to reject the idea of registering as he had yesterday, but that was ignorance. This world¡¯s ¡°guilds¡± and ¡°adventurers¡± may just be meaningless and twisted amalgamations of the real things, but he needed to abide by some of Nightmare¡¯s rules if he was going to break others.


    Eventually, the orb stopped shimmering and Illyana¡ªlikely just a contractor rather than someone sworn to the System¡¯s order¡ªgave an audible gasp. An act, he was sure.


    ¡°Wow!¡± She exclaimed. ¡°Impressive! You don¡¯t see someone starting as a Blue-grade adventurer every day!¡±


    The color coded grades, Alex knew, meant little to nothing.


    ¡°As a Blue adventurer you can accept quests at the Blue grade or lower, but luckily all the quests we have here are Green! The more quests you clear, the more points you¡¯ll rack up towards your next ranking! Keep at it!¡±


    She slapped the quest board behind her, which was also restored. She needn¡¯t have bothered, Alex had already taken a look when he¡¯d come in here earlier. There was only one quest that truly mattered, only one that would¨C


    A frown crept onto his face when he looked up.


    ¡°There¡¯s a quest missing,¡± he said. ¡°I thought I saw it earlier. It said ¡®Locate the Swamp of Death. What happened to it?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, someone came by and took that early this morning.¡±


    ¡°Who?¡±


    The attendant bit her lip and for a second Alex thought he caught that look people had when engaging with their interface in her distant gaze.


    ¡°A¡­ small girl,¡± she said, ¡°Around up to your chest in height. I¡¯m sorry, Adventurer, I¡¯m not permitted to say more.


    Does she mean Gloomy? She lived?


    Alex¡¯s frown deepened. The only thing differentiating the quest he¡¯d wanted was that it had the highest danger marker, with three skulls rather than one or two. Otherwise, there¡¯d been nothing clearly separating it as special from the others. And if it was Gloomy who had taken it¡­ well, would someone so weak really go for the highest difficulty quest? She had survived the first scenario not by fighting but by sacrificing others, afterall.


    But then, what if she hadn¡¯t solved the first scenario¡¯s riddled meaning at all? What if she had already known how to survive it? And maybe that wasn¡¯t all she knew¡­


    Absent-mindedly, Alex¡¯s hand went to a patch of the gauze he¡¯d been mysteriously gifted, but it wasn¡¯t there. He¡¯d healed his wounds completely when he¡¯d acquired his class. He¡¯d thought it strange that he¡¯d been found so quickly, but what if it wasn¡¯t him they¡¯d been watching. What if one of the constellations had been feeding Gloomy information?


    And by watching her, they¡¯d found Alex.


    Glowering, he asked one more question. ¡°What Scenario three path did the quest she took follow?¡±


    He hadn¡¯t quite expected an answer to this, and for a second the attendant seemed like she would tell him to beat it, but then she bit her tongue.


    ¡°It was the Path of Bleeding Hearts,¡± she said at last.


    ¡°I see. Then I¡¯ll take as many quests along that path as you have then.¡±


    ¡°I can only give three, Adventurer. Which would you¨C¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter which they are, thank you. And deliver this note to the man named Jun, please. Tell him it¡¯s from Alex.¡±


    ¡°Of course, Adventurer.¡±


    He handed over a folded piece of paper and the attendant tore three quests at random. They dispersed into a sea of pixels in his hold.


    [Slay Three Ghouls]


    Ghouls lurk the passages of the Misting Valleys. Slay three of them, and make the mountains once more safe for travelers.


    Reward: 3,000 Essence


    [Missing Caravan]


    A Caravan has gone missing along the Path of Bleeding Hearts. Investigate what has happened to it and return your findings to the Adventurer¡¯s guild.


    Reward: 3,000 Essence


    [Haunted Manor]


    They say there is an abandoned Manor hidden within the mists and all who travel there never return. Validify the integrity of these rumors.


    Reward: 3,000 Essence


    Alex reviewed them shortly then dismissed them to the Quest tab in his interface. Nightmare always rewarded those who beat its scenarios greatly, and this was just one more way of doing that. If you failed to beat scenario two, the next adventurer¡¯s guild came only once you completed the third scenario, or if you sought out one of their elusive outposts before then. But it was hard to feel enthusiastic about that at the moment.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    Especially when he remembered the other thing the attendants say to you when you first visit. He resigned himself to listen through it all again as she opened her mouth.


    ¡°Thank you for joining our ranks! We¡¯re glad to have you, Adventurer! The fight against Demon King Eldiwin and his Eight Undead Lords has reached its darkest hour, but with you by our side, we can surely¨C¡±


    A raspy voice interrupted her speech.


    ¡°Alex¡­?¡±


    They both turned their heads to take in the other person in that room, the one who had been muttering to himself only moments before. He was a middle-aged man, clean shaven but dirtied, and wore tattered jeans and a bloodied jacket beneath a wizard¡¯s robe. His blond hair slung sweaty and sooty like a mop over his hung head, and he hugged himself as if expecting an attack despite this being a safe zone.


    He was clearly one of the ones Jun had fought to save in the catacombs underground, but it was his eyes that told Alex most about the man. There was hopelessness in them, a cloud thicker than any fog.


    ¡°Yes?¡± Alex asked.


    The man¡¯s lip trembled as he spoke. ¡°Jun said¡­th-that the one who killed the boss¡­it-it was¡­¡±


    ¡°Yes, that was me.¡±


    Alex knew what his next words would be before he¡¯d spoken them. The blood on his jacket crusted around a tear in its fabric by his flank and it wasn¡¯t hard to imagine that a river of blood once must have sept from now-healed flesh. Jun must have given him a healing potion from the rewards, he was fighting in shape now, and yet he was still hiding away here.


    Alex understood. His first scar had been from a glancing slash across his eye, and its greatest reminder hadn¡¯t come from the daggered stare he gave in the mirror, but from the slightest scratch on his cornea that had never healed. That had never happened in this life, and he had killed the Mayor who had inflicted it, but a part of him still saw a slight blur in his left field of vision where there was none. A potion could heal bodily wounds, but the mind did not heal so easily.


    The man¡¯s next words were as he expected.


    ¡°Help me¡­¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Alex said, ¡°I cannot.¡±


    He turned to leave, but the man clutched at his pant legs in desperation. ¡°Please¡­you¡¯re strong right? Pro-protect me! Or even just¡­food¡­¡± His stomach grumbled and he slinked back down abashedly.


    Food. Alex was not short on food. It¡¯d been the first thing he¡¯d stocked up before the apocalypse, yet the man could¡¯ve asked him for his steel dagger and he might¡¯ve hesitated less.


    Going down to one knee, Alex pressed some jerky into the man¡¯s fist. ¡°It¡¯s not much, but no one has a lot of food right now. This was just from my sign on bonus, don¡¯t bother stretching it. Just give yourself a full stomach.¡±


    ¡°Tha¨C¡±


    ¡°No need for thanks.¡± Alex turned to leave, then suppressed an impatient sigh and sat down next to him so that they were level with one another. ¡°What¡¯s your name, man?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ Julian,¡±


    He gave his name in reflex. His stare was void of any recognition as he looked at the jerky in his hand so Alex waited him out. Where fog concealed distance from the eye, the clouds in Julian¡¯s vision instead concealed the present. With eyes that looked only inward, whatever Julian saw of the world was not true reality but a collection of thoughts and memories strung disjointedly to resemble something that made sense. Before Alex had ever come to know violence, he¡¯d spent his late teens among the homeless and that had familiarized him to the type enough.


    Eventually, Julian began picking at his meal, and as if only just noticing Alex was still there, he turned to face him. ¡°Are you a pitcher?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Excuse me?¡±


    He mimed a throwing motion. ¡°The muscles on your right arm.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Alex felt there, not noticing much difference himself. ¡°My work sees me using my dominant arm more. You?¡±


    ¡°Catcher. Or was¡­ I played backup for the Mets. Retired some years ago¡­¡±


    A small smile died on Julian¡¯s lips before it could fully take root and his words trailed off. A silence hung between them again and the man tilted his head up. Alex followed his gaze, taking the clear sky¡¯s beauty through the rafters


    ¡°Wow¡­ the world¡¯s really gone to shit, huh.¡±


    Alex grunted.


    ¡°You think there¡¯ll still be another season of Stranger Things?¡±


    Alex frowned. Stranger thi¡­ ah. ¡°Probably not,¡± he said.


    ¡°So it¡¯s just going to leave off like that huh¡­¡±


    Alex wondered for a second if what he was doing was pointless and he should just leave. Julian wasn¡¯t exactly delirious any longer, but he was clearly in denial. What he needed to be doing was leveling himself while there were still easy mobs out there, but no doubt Jun would¡¯ve tried to convince him of that already, so what could Alex possibly do for him?


    More importantly, Gloomy had taken the quest he needed and every second he tarried here the distance between them grew.


    He tarried regardless.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± he said, ¡°Stranger Things kind of sucked.¡±


    ¡°What?!¡±


    Julian whirled and Alex knew he¡¯d grabbed his attention. Was that any true? Maybe. He couldn¡¯t remember actually watching it, but he thought he might¡¯ve caught an episode or three while his roommate had it on in the background.


    ¡°Just felt like it outgrew its original vision.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± Julian scoffed. ¡°That¡¯s your complaint? You¨Cyou¡¯re out of your mind dude.¡±


    Alex gave a lopsided grin. Ain¡¯t we all.


    ¡°Then what, did you just watch the Simpsons every night? Say you¡¯ve co-come home from work, you got a beer cracked and everything, what do you put on?¡±


    Alex took a second thinking on that. He¡¯d been a fan of the Solarian League whenever a match came along that was big enough for Dykriest officials to justify the expenses of airing it. But that was hardly ever, down in the layers. And besides, he didn¡¯t know how he¡¯d explain to the man the appeal of watching two of the strongest people in the universe kill each other for sport. He wouldn¡¯t have known how to explain it to himself.


    ¡°Nah, I wasn¡¯t much for TV,¡± Alex said eventually. ¡°Something always comes up and I end up leaving it half finished. I like movies though. Used to sneak into the theaters and decide what to watch at a glance. You can find some real treasures that way.¡±


    Now it was Julian¡¯s turn to smile.


    He laughed and they talked some more. About movies, about hobbies, about favorite foods and about celebrity crushes. About nothing important. No family, no friends, no monsters, and the only magic on discussion was Alex¡¯s schoolyard trick of disappearing his pinkie, made easier with his higher dexterity stat. For Julian, it was probably a much needed distraction, but for Alex it was a chance to reminisce.


    Earth had always been a barred topic after the apocalypse. Alex never cared to hear what extraterrestrials had to say about it, and between his fellow people it only ever brought up painful memories. It had been their home, and though Alex had never truly found a place for himself there, it had been the only home planet he knew. Not the peaceful planet where he¡¯d ¡°apprenticed¡± to his Master, nor the dark and stagnant layers of Dykriest, were places he could call home. Even if the latter was where he¡¯d slept in one place the longest. God forbid Nightmare.


    No, only Earth.


    But there was a disconnect there. For Julian, Earth was still his home, and when he spoke it was of the present, of a life he expected to return to, not knowing that the planet as a whole would one day face its death. Not even Alex could prevent that. And if Julian lived, he might one day see Earth the same way Alex did. A place to hold dear in the heart, but just a memory. A ghost of a world.


    Before Alex had known it, he was already starting to speak of it as such, and it was just as well that Julian hadn¡¯t noticed, as it would¡¯ve been counterintuitive what he was trying to do. He checked his interface. Reminiscing, he¡¯d lost track of time, and even more than he, time was something Julian didn¡¯t have to spare.


    ¡°And then,¡± Julian cackled, ¡°Then they decided to announce a sequel to the first one for whatever reason. Recontinued after all that, can you imagine?¡±


    The man was meeting Alex¡¯s eyes in conversation now. ¡°Yeah, that does sound crazy.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, like what were they even think¨C¡±


    Alex interrupted. ¡°Julian, You have a choice to make.¡±


    The man stopped short. Then, as if remembering where he was, his disposition made a one-eighty. His face seemed to darken even as it paled. ¡°A choice?¡±


    ¡°While we sit here talking, the others are out there killing the remaining undead and getting stronger. They asked you to come with them, didn¡¯t they?¡±


    Julian¡¯s immediate panic told Alex he¡¯d been right.


    ¡°I¡¯m not going!¡± He yelled. ¡°You saw what those bastards were like! I¡¯m not going to risk my life so¨C¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not what the choice is,¡± Alex growled.


    He¡¯d growled. Julian was only an ordinary man and when he flinched back into meekness, Alex realized he probably shouldn¡¯t have done that. He tried to put the softness back into his gaze, but it wouldn¡¯t come.


    Instead, he summoned his gun into his grip, the one he¡¯d taken from the dead man who still lay just outside this building. He unclipped its magazine and removed its bullets one by one until only a single remained, then he clicked it back into place. He could feel the skittish gaze along his spine as he did so.


    ¡°Easy now,¡± he said, arm outstretched, ¡°I¡¯m not here to force you to go, Julian. No one¡¯s forcing you to do anything. But this safe zone will only last one more hour and we both know staying here isn¡¯t an option. When Jun returns he¡¯ll want to leave immediately.¡±


    The older man gulped. ¡°A-and then¡­ I¡¯ll be on my own.¡±


    His teeth chattered a little and he clutched his head. His eyes began to cloud again until Alex was certain he wasn¡¯t truly seeing his surroundings anymore, only the horrific death he inevitably faced. Why am I doing this?


    ¡°No,¡± Alex said. ¡°You won¡¯t be on your own. He¡¯ll take you with him, but¡­¡±


    Julian wasn¡¯t hearing him. ¡°Please¡­ protect me. Don¡¯t leave me alone, Alex. Take me with you¡­¡±


    That¡­ wasn¡¯t going to happen. Julian wouldn¡¯t keep up where he was heading, and Alex didn¡¯t make promises he couldn¡¯t keep. Two hundred and seventeen survived to the end of Nightmare. And even those that had found Return Crystals like Alex had were in the vast minority. The man crying and begging before him didn¡¯t stand a chance.


    ¡°No,¡± he said simply. ¡°I can¡¯t take you with me. But have you ever faced true starvation before? Have you ever experienced the pain of¡­¡±


    ¡°Oh god,¡± Julian droned, ¡°I¡¯m going to die¡­ Leslie, I¡¯m going to¡­someone save¡­¡±


    The man¡¯s incessant mumbling quickly became unintelligible. Alex pinched his eyes in frustration.


    Why do I bother?


    ¡°Julian, look!¡± Alex snapped his fingers and the man raised his head for a moment. ¡°You¡¯re not going to be abandoned. Jun will take you whether you¡¯re useful or not because that¡¯s just the kind of person he is. But he won¡¯t be able to protect you, Julian. That¡¯s on you.¡±


    ¡°No. No no no, I can¡¯t do it. I can¡¯t risk my¨C¡±


    ¡°Julian! Stand up this instant! On your fucking feet!¡±


    Alex used his best sergeant voice. The older man flinched, and for a second he wasn¡¯t the same person who¡¯d been sniveling on the ground but someone harder. Shakily, he followed the order until both of them stood eye to eye.


    Alex took his gun and pressed it into Julian¡¯s palm, closing his fingers around it into a firm grip. He tried to pull away, but Alex kept it there. ¡°I told you you have a choice to make.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t¡­¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not telling you to risk your life,¡± Alex said coldly. ¡°You¡¯re already risking it, just by being here. But you have to decide now how you¡¯re going to spend it. On your own terms.¡±


    Understanding flashed in Julian¡¯s eyes. He didn¡¯t pull back, so Alex continued.


    ¡°It¡¯s only going to get worse. Stay here and starve to death if you¡¯d like. Follow Jun like a lost lamb if you must, but if you keep like this it¡¯s only going to get worse.¡± Alex¡¯s voice took on a grim tone. ¡°You¡¯ll wish you ended it here, Julian.¡±


    The man quailed. His eyes, which had begun to clear became murky again. Distantly, Alex was aware of the guild attendant watching them, with a stillness as thick as the air around them. Julian¡¯s hand, the one that held the gun, shook and he began to raise it to his temple.


    Alex gripped the barrel tightly.


    ¡°Not on impulse.¡± He scolded. ¡°I¡¯m not telling you that this is the answer, I¡¯m just telling you what¡¯s going to happen. Think about it and take your time.¡±


    Alex¡¯s eyes held none of their softness anymore. Softness had no place here, but he made Julian look into them regardless. ¡°Some fates are worse than death.¡± He said. ¡°But no fate is sealed. If you accept the other¡¯s help, if you prepare yourself while there¡¯s still easy targets, if you fight for your life, then there¡¯s always a chance. Choose wisely, Julian, but make your choice now.¡±


    Silence stretched for a long instant and Alex stepped back. The Guild¡¯s attendant watched on with hollow eyes.


    Eventually, Julian chose.


    ¡°It would¡¯ve been kinder to let him do it,¡± she said.


    Alex didn¡¯t respond. He simply stared off in the direction Julian had gone off to reunite with the other other survivors, his back turned from her. She was right. Alex would be cursed for his interference by the end of this.


    But maybe, just maybe, they were both wrong.


    Remembering herself, the attendant resumed her character. ¡°Adventurer, would you like to learn more about Demon King Eldiwin and his Eight Undead Lords¨C¡±


    ¡°Apologies,¡± Alex said, ¡°But I¡¯m in a rush. You said the girl that grabbed that quest came by this morning? Was it right at dawn by any chance?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    Alex nodded his thanks and turned, leaving for the gates. He had a long way to travel if he wanted to catch up.


    ***


    Jun left the town through the same gates he¡¯d entered through, the sun casting long shadows on him as it began its descent. The evenings in this world were terrifying. The sun fell so fast that one second it¡¯d been high in the sky, and the next he was already bathing in its golden glow. He read the note by its light, then crumpled it.


    Meet me in the city. 16:00, twenty-nine days from now. A bar called Lucian¡¯s Tomb in the northwest sector.


    - Alex


    Jun didn¡¯t know what to think of Alex anymore. These last couple nights had been a sleepless tempest of confusing emotions, and during that time the man had come into his life, betrayed him, helped him, saved him, helped him save the others, and then disappeared without another word. What was he even supposed to think?


    Or maybe what he thought didn¡¯t matter. The letter was omitting one important detail: If. This was only if he reached the city. He closed his eyes.


    ¡°Jun? Which path should we choose?¡± someone asked.


    Ahmed, Frank, Julian, Kim, Donovan, Aili, Rachel, Brennen. In his mind''s eye they were all looking to his back for direction. In his mind¡¯s eye, shut against the world¡¯s light, he saw them as wolves staring daggers at his back. They were friendly now, but what about when he could no longer provide for them?


    No, these were good people. It was wrong to think of them like that.


    ¡°It says we have to choose one of them for Scenario Three. Jun?¡±


    He kept his eyes closed, taking some calming breaths. In through the nose¡­ hold¡­ and out through the mouth. They were good people.


    Jolyn had been a good person too, probably.


    Jun wasn¡¯t sure when she¡¯d died, but they¡¯d found her corpse by the end of the day. Blunt trauma to the head, no sign of struggle. The bone-shard necklace he¡¯d given her was missing and that worried him most of all. They¡¯d exterminated all the undead in that town and there¡¯d still been it hadn¡¯t turned up.


    Nor was there any sign of that young girl. He hadn¡¯t found her corpse with the others in the catacombs. He could only hope she was doing alright.


    ¡°Jun?¡±


    Someone called for him again. He opened his eyes. ¡°We¡¯ll go with the Path of Poisoned Thorns,¡± he said.


    He didn¡¯t think it mattered which they chose, they all had equally ominous descriptions.


    Scenario 3: Passage


    You have been provided three paths through the Mists of Lost Souls to the city of Blank. Supply drops containing food and water will be visible from all three, but only the path ahead is safe. Beware what lurks in the mists. Take care that you don¡¯t find yourself lost.


    Clear Conditions: Arrive at the city within 30 days.


    Penalty for failure: Death.


    Jun stood at the unnatural treeline separating the mists from plains of dead grass. Those tempestuous whispers pulled and pushed at his mind and he could only guess they belonged to the ¡®lost souls¡¯. Regardless a path cleared before him, pushing the mist¡¯s boundaries away.


    Last he had stood here, the guide had been here to lead him. Now, he of all people had others looking to him for directions. He didn¡¯t know how it had happened, he¡¯d just wanted to help them.


    You can¡¯t trust them, a voice said.


    But he set that voice aside for now and turned, looking back at his companions. Kim crossed her arms expectantly. Julian smiled. Frank muttered something about getting on with it and Ahmed hooked his arm around the man¡¯s shoulder telling him to take it easy. He felt a smile pull at his lips and it felt a little crazy but they¡¯d almost made the day a little easier for him.


    ¡®Easier¡¯, the word felt wrong. They¡¯d spent the day hunting down demons, and losing even more people. Jun was running on so little sleep right now that he couldn¡¯t see straight. He still didn¡¯t know if his family or friends were alright, and yet their company had given him some modicum of comfort by the simple fact that he wasn¡¯t alone.


    He couldn¡¯t trust him, he knew, but it didn¡¯t seem to matter. His [Howl] skill was broken and though he still had the skill stone from that necromancer there were some lines that shouldn¡¯t be crossed. He wasn¡¯t Alex. When it came down to it, he needed them to survive as much as they needed him. And he really did want to help them if he could.


    If. Or maybe he didn¡¯t know what he wanted anymore. Sleep mostly. He sighed.


    ¡°It¡¯s getting dark,¡± he said, ¡°Let''s head out for a bit and if it really is safe we¡¯ll set up camp for the night.¡±


    His companions all assented and they entered the path, mists closing around them. Julian lagged behind a little but Aili and Ahmed helped him along. They were all good people. but when Jun turned his back to them, all he could see were the wolves.


    [Path of Poisoned Thorns]


    The more beautiful the Rose, the more poison lies on its prick.


    May your passage prove safe.

 20 — A lifetime ago

    Once, beneath a sky that cycled evenly between night and day, within a valley untouched by the mists of lost souls or the scourge of undead, sat the town of D¡¯lorn. A lively place, with a river of crystine water that dripped from its northern mountains and a great mansion that crested its highest point. Each morning, house wives would do their laundry by the river streams, well worn tunics and beige gowns. And each, their gossipy chatter, or the laughter of children not far off, would coast a languid breeze to those mansion¡¯s doors. By noon, the gruffer laughter of their husbands and the other adventurers could be heard, filtered through songs of cicadas and birds.


    ¡°Ahh~ and this, my son, is the peace we fight to protect.¡±


    The man who¡¯d spoken had a hulking presence. A magnificent mane of red hair flew his scalp and he stood in the mansion¡¯s foyer, both hands on his hips as he faced the winds through doors swung open. ¡°You see, son,¡± he continued, ¡°Those born to a higher station. Those born with power, we have a duty to protect¨C¡±


    ¡°Lionheart¡­ my lord¡­¡± A nursemaid stood prim and respectful behind him, ¡°I¡¯m afraid he¡¯s no longer listening.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    The son the man had addressed so endearingly had not been listening from the start. He crawled on four legs across the carpeted room to a display case against the far wall. Blanketed in clear glass, it was rectangular in shape and tall as the hulking man himself. The toddler¡¯s grubby hand barely touched an eighth of the display¡¯s height, small as he was.


    But small or not, there was something special there. A transformative spark that could herald an end to this spiral. A light in the boy¡¯s eyes, when he first looked upon the armor.


    The nursemaid came and quickly scooped the boy into her arms and like a word forgotten just after being spoken, that light suddenly vanished, leaving only a small print on the glass where his hand had been.


    ¡°She¡¯s quite a specimen. Isn¡¯t she, son?¡±


    Lionheart walked up beside his maid. He opened the display case, tender fingers caressing the suit of armor within, fitted perfectly for his frame. There was tired warmth in his eyes as he reminisced.


    ¡°She was gifted to me by King Eldiwin, alongside our Barony. A decorative piece, forged with pure Oslumnen. A precious material, but it won¡¯t hold properly against an enemy blade. It¡¯s meant to symbolize that I¡¯ve fulfilled my service as his highness¡¯s sword.¡±


    There was a pregnant silence as he trailed off, but the small boy''s eyes never left that suit of armor.


    ¡°...Osummim¡±


    Lionheart frowned at the word, repeating it on the tip of his tongue as though deciphering its taste. Then he snapped his head to the side, and found his astonishment reflected in his maid¡¯s eyes.


    ¡°I¡¯ll go fetch Lady Sylvia Immediately,¡± She said.


    ¡°Yes, please. Tell her our son¨C tell her Lucius has just spoken his first word!¡±


    ***


    ¡°Lucius!¡± Sylvia had screamed some years later.


    She¡¯d stormed through the foyer in a fury, and after a heated exchange with a maid, they both left in search of the boy. Only once they had left could the shallow pattern of breathing be heard. Then a sigh of relief.


    ¡°They¡¯re gone,¡± the boy remarked to no one in particular. ¡°Lord¡­ I¡¯m going to be in so much trouble when they find me. Shouldn¡¯t have played with father¡¯s sword like that¡­¡±


    The boy stepped out from behind the display case. He was taller now than he had been as a toddler, his height equal to the armor¡¯s waist level. His shoulders were wider, his red hair longer¡ªas was family tradition¡ªand he had the frame of a twelve year old rather than the seven he actually was.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± he smiled to the armor, ¡°You protected me.¡±


    He turned and walked away. Or had been about to when he halted. A girl appeared from the opposite corridor with a bucket of liquid and she nearly dropped it when she saw him.


    ¡°Young Master¨C!¡± She stammered, ¡°The Baroness was¡­ let me go get her!¡±


    ¡°Wait!¡±


    Lucius grabbed the girl by her arm. White appeared on her flesh and he quickly yanked his hand back. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± he said. ¡°I don¡¯t recognize you. What¡¯s your name?¡±


    ¡°It¨Cit¡¯s Lyla, Young Master. I started here a week ago under the head house maid.¡± The girl tried to curtsy. Cloth rag and duster in one hand, bucket in the other. Liquid splashed over its lip onto fine carpet.


    ¡°Just¡­ Lucius is fine. Here to polish the armor?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Young Mas¡­ I mean¨C right. She wants it done once every day.¡±


    ¡°Once a day? Is that not a lot?¡±


    ¡°I¡­¡±


    ¡°Here,¡± he grabbed the bucket from her, ¡°How about I do it for you? Once a day for the next month, and then you don¡¯t tell mother where I am. Does that sound okay?¡±


    ¡°I¡­yes. As you wish, Lucius.¡±


    Alone again, the boy brought the bucket back over to the display case and turned the key he¡¯d been handed in its lock. The armor had a purple-black sheen to it that was magnetizing, and its surface was smooth to the touch. It had never been worn.


    ¡°Once a day¡­ Father really treasures you, doesn¡¯t he?¡±


    He stood there with the display open as if transfixed, then quickly dusted the armor before he began wiping its surface. He had to stretch his arms to reach the breastplate and couldn¡¯t reach the helm at all. But it already shone like glass.


    A thought must¡¯ve struck him then, as instead of leaving, he suddenly switched the hum of his tune and dragged a plush table over until it stood in front of the display. And he stood on it, his frame teetering as he nearly knocked over a vase of his mother¡¯s flowers.


    ¡°Father¡¯s never worn you, has he?¡± he muttered. ¡°But¡­ so shiny. I bet if war were to break out¡­ he¡¯d look¡­¡±


    The boy in the display¡¯s reflection grew taller as he found his balance. And taller, until reflected in that armor was another boy. Another man. The spitting image of his father, the Knight he would one day be.


    ¡°Lucius? What are you doing?¡±


    The voice came hard and stern, in a way it rarely did. Lucius leapt back, knocking himself off with the vase.


    ¡°First I hear you have borrowed my sword and now¡­ this¡­¡±


    Lionheart trailed off, and from where his son sat in a mess of clay and his mother¡¯s favorite peonies, the father must¡¯ve seemed twice the hulking giant that he was. He sighed, sitting to be level with his boy, and placed a hand on his shoulder. ¡°Lucius. Do you wish to become a Knight?¡±


    The word had been like a light switch for the boy. ¡°Yes! I want to serve King Eldiwin! The way you did. I could be his highness¡¯s greatest sword!¡±


    The boy seemed to have taken his father¡¯s silence as a cue for further argument. ¡°You already sent Deitan to the knighthood,¡± he said, ¡°And he¡¯s only a year older, send me too!¡±


    ¡°And how would that affect your mother?¡± Lionheart asked. ¡°To lose both her boys to the capital but a year between? I understand how you feel, son, but I will not send you.¡± This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    Lionheart raised his hand, stopping whatever rebuttal was on the boy¡¯s tongue. ¡°Do you truly wish to serve his highness?¡±


    ¡°Yes? Of course I do!¡±


    ¡°Then becoming a knight is not the best way to do so.¡±


    Indignation flared in the young boy¡¯s eyes, but his father gave a knowing smile as he pulled him to his feet.


    ¡°Do you know why I was given this armor, Lucius?¡±


    ¡°Of course I do! Oslumnen armor is the highest honor known to man.¡±


    ¡°And despite its inherent weakness, do you know why it¡¯s the highest honor?¡±


    ¡°I¡­¡±


    Lionheart chuckled. ¡°If you¡¯re too young even for symbolism, my boy, then forget being a knight. You say you want to be his Highness''s sharpest sword, but any man in need of a sword must have something to fight for, no? If you truly wish to serve his throne then have you given any mind to what that is?¡±


    A silence passed and the boy could only sit dumbfounded. It eventually became clear his father wanted an answer. ¡°The¡­ people?¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± he patted his shoulder. ¡°Good indeed. The people.¡±


    Lionheart turned, and though the doors were closed, he gestured in the direction of the D¡¯lorn with an all-encompassing gesture. ¡°A ruler is nothing without subjects to rule. And our Barony is no different, son. Those born with power over others have a duty to protect them, but as a sword?¡± he laughed. ¡°The sword has its place, but it is hardly the most direct form of protection, and I have given my eldest as his Highness¡¯s sword already. No, Lucius, you will not be a Knight.¡±


    ¡°But¨C¡±


    ¡°King Eldiwin entrusts his knights to lead his armies. His sword marches to his will, but there are dangers that lurk closer than it can cut. If you truly wish to serve the throne, Lucius, you will be his Highness''s shield instead. An Adventurer.¡±


    Lucius¡¯s jaw dropped. ¡°An adventurer? But¨CI thought nobles didn¡¯t¡­¡±


    The boy¡¯s mood brightened even as he stammered his words. But when he¡¯d managed to find them once more, he realized his father hadn¡¯t answered his own question.


    ¡°Why is it the highest honor? The armor?¡±


    Lord Lionhart¡¯s hoisted his son up beneath the arms so his head was reflected by that glass once more. It was one thing to have a dream, and another to understand it. When the boy looked at a reflection, he didn¡¯t just see himself, but what he might stand for. The sparkle in his eye seemed to pierce the glass display, touching the armor itself with its light.


    ¡°Oslumnen armor is the highest honor, son, because there is no honor greater than to serve your people. And the title of Nobility she comes with isn¡¯t simply retirement, but another form of service. We take a different type of oath then, a vow of armor. May his Highness¡¯s sword deter all threats to his people. May his shield defend them from harm. But if neither prove up to task¡­¡±


    Young Lionheart¡¯s eyes stared back at him from that purple abyss.


    ¡°Then no matter the malleability of our bones, may we put their lives before our own.¡±


    Before and after do not exist to an inexistence, but for that moment, that armor had become something more. It did not so much as think, and yet it was. That which gives meaning, is sometimes given meaning in return. And as Lucius kept its maintenance everyday, long after the month he had promised Lyla girl had passed, that meaning took root. Ever deeper, ever darker, ever closer. That did not change even when that young boy was no longer so young and hair grew in tufts on his chin. Nor when he left the town behind and returned years hence a hero.


    ¡°Today¡± a much older Lucius said, hand at work polishing, ¡°Lyla told me she loved me. I¡­ I¡¯ve never had much of a mind for romance, but I can¡¯t believe I never noticed. It would never work out of course, given our stations.¡±


    He didn¡¯t know when it had begun, but he¡¯d found it a calming routine to talk out his thoughts when he polished the armor. The boys in town had used to tease him about talking to himself.


    ¡°Today,¡± the same voice spoke years later, ¡°Lyla and I told Father. He seemed furious when he gave us his blessing, but I think deep down he was overjoyed to be a grandfather.¡±


    Indeed, it had been Lord Lionheart that had shed tears the day his grandson was born.


    ¡°Another peaceful day.¡± Lucius reported. ¡°There¡¯d been a bandit incident, but that¡¯s dealt with. Aside from that, monsters seem to be staying further away from our settlements these days, but I can¡¯t help but still worry. I decided to have men posted at towns in our northern territories, they¡¯ll send word if anything happens.¡±


    That proved to be a prudent precaution.


    ¡°Say, why does it feel like when I talk to you, you listen?¡± Lucius stood in silence for a moment, pondering that. He scratched his head, walking off.


    ¡°Ahh, it¡¯s been a little while, sorry.¡± He had a full grown beard now, and a dozen new scars. ¡°An old friend of mine ran into some trouble across the continent, but it¡¯s finished now. Gods, I haven¡¯t fought that hard in ages. Have the servants been keeping you polished like I¡¯ve told them?¡±


    ¡°Good news, today. I¡¯ve just received word that a peace has been arranged with the Balstani. About time, too. We¡¯ve been fighting that war since my father¡¯s days. I heard Deitan had a crucial part in securing their surrender, ain¡¯t he just the model knight?¡±


    ¡°Hey! You won¡¯t believe this, but Lyla and I have just had our ninth child! We¡¯ve decided on her name too. Lylucius!¡±


    Today, it was a magical word. From the foyer, the armor witnessed all who walked through. The mayor on official business, townsfolk in celebrations, the noble family and their servants, but that word was the cornerstone for it all. Perhaps it wasn¡¯t every day that Lucius would utter it, but every time, he would always say it with his cheekiest smile. Until one day he didn¡¯t.


    ¡°Today¡­¡± The word came like a choked sob as Lucius¡¯s hand stopped its polishing. His fingers scrunched tight around the clothes fabric, knuckles white. He let the rag drop, hand going to cover his eyes as he fell back on the foyer¡¯s lounge.


    ¡°The world is changing,¡± he said eventually. ¡°It has changed, and so suddenly¡­It¡¯s just¡­ I¡¯ve received word that Deitan has died. Bravely, supposedly, but from what I hear there¡¯d been no room for bravery for those that had been there. Just death.¡±


    He shuddered. Then he stood, approaching the display.


    ¡°The word is, King Eldiwin is gathering a round table like in the golden age of legends, and he wants father to serve as one of his Lords. He left just this night, and strong as he is, he¡¯s not fool enough to think he¡¯s coming back. So, that leaves only me.¡± he clasped the armor on its shoulder. ¡°Us.¡±


    The display was open, no glass between Lucius and his armor. She had not been polished in some time, and yet her Oslumnen shimmer was so glossy that his reflection stood there regardless, as if worn by the armor and not the other way around. So tall was he now that it seemed to fit him perfectly, limb for limb, as if forged for that purpose.


    ¡°As the eldest living son of my father, Kaladin Lionheart,¡± Lucius said, ¡°I, Lucius, am now Lucius Lionheart, Lord and Baron of the Ato Valleys.¡± He took a deep breath, steeling his resolve. ¡°It is my honor to serve as his Highness¡¯s armor. May any harm to his people come through me first.¡±


    Lord Lionheart spun, turning to walk through open swung doors. An army of Adventurers and townsfolk outfitted with pitchforks and shovels stood ready outside. The people. The armor protected its people.


    For once, the armor that had bathed in his light for so long, tried to extend its own light. But it had not yet been time. Its voice was not heard.


    Lionheart faced back one last time. ¡°We¡¯ve got dark days ahead, but keep protecting us will ya?¡±


    The door closed, leaving the armor alone in the dark.


    With time, that display case would be splattered by blood. Bodies would eventually litter the foyer, the people. And by the time the last screams went quiet, that light would be twisted and snuffed out.


    It had not yet been time. It never would be.


    ***


    Dark. The armor floated in an all consuming dark, no longer alone, no longer so twisted.


    ¡°Well, I wouldn¡¯t say never,¡± a familiar voice said, ¡°Your time will come after all.¡±


    A hand clasped the armor¡¯s shoulder. Not from the front, but from the side, like a friend might.


    Recognition.


    There was a hearty laugh as the feeling pulsed, the imaginings of a cheeky smile gracing that face. ¡°No, that¡¯s not what I mean. Not for us. I am no longer your master, and you are no longer armor. We are no longer.¡±


    Sadness. Regret.


    Regret. There was so much of it, overflowing as if bursting from a broken dam. So, so much.


    ¡°Oh, none of that.¡± Lionheart snapped. ¡°My time is past, and whether you know it or not, you served us well. Even now, you¡¯ve still been protecting us, have you not? You¡¯ve given Lyla her peace. You cleansed her.¡±


    The armor seemed to warp, its form shifting, then it flickered as if resisting that change. Armor is forged to protect. Armor should perish before its people. Armor¡­


    ¡°But you aren¡¯t armor anymore, you¡¯re a sword. You wanted to change didn¡¯t you?¡±


    Greeted with a resilient silence, Lionheart sighed. ¡°Slumber, child. You¡¯ve served me well, but you have a new light now. The highest honor is to serve, so let me guide you. Let me show you how.¡±


    Those words tapered off like the end of a dream as the blade embraced the dark. Ever darker, ever deeper, following that voice. Regret, it spoke. For it was their cornerstone.


    That which gives meaning is sometimes given meaning in return, and that was true here.The dark was not so bad. Because the deeper the dark, the greater the light that casts its shadow. And as the blade sunk deeper, ever darker, following that voice so much like her own, she found it.


    The light of a Divine Core.