《Grandfather of Necromancy》 Prologue - The Beginning at The End Hello. My name is Andras Grigori, Archmage of the dark arts. If you are reading this, I am dead. Fret not, dear mortal, with powers such as mine death is not a final farewell and merely a temporary setback. A hurdle to be cleared. Even now as the fools I once called friends are assaulting my tower, even as I transcribe my final message, I am also weaving perhaps the most extraordinary spell frame of my lifetime. A shame it will be the last, of this life. When the man I thought closest to my equal, Vincent Gildea, and our band of companions succeeded in ridding this world of the Tyrannical Dragon Emperor, I thought we would live in luxury and retire. I was a fool. With the dragon gone, the biggest threat to Vincent¡¯s idyllic world-view was me. Sure, he was never one to complain when my magic healed his wounds, blocked his heart from arrows, or raised our enemies to fight in our stead, but the world could never know that the great hero Gildea allowed the use of necromancy. The dark arts were a weapon of convenience for him, and when he denounced me publicly that convenience had ended. The disgust on his face as I fled the capitol would be reason enough to destroy him. My heartache even more so. Unfortunately, my message was halted there when the door to my sanctum was blown off its hinges. The only sign of my final spellwork falling into place was a telltale flash of dark light in the resulting plume of smoke. When the dust settled I looked up to see Vincent, standing in the doorway with anger painted across his face. He was followed by what few of our friends were foolhardy enough to join him. I could only spare them a final glance. A pity, no one else was supposed to die. I¡¯ll need to keep them out of the crossfire. ¡°Hello Vincent, what brings you to my office this evening?¡± I asked in faux hospitality, stalling while I began to weave my combat spells in either hand. The rage on his face deepened and curled into a scowl when he bellowed in response. ¡°Andras Tellmire Grigori¡± Ugh, does he have to use my middle name? So dramatic. ¡°By the authority of the Fifth Sovereign Emperor of Teraq, and the Holy Teraqi Church of Light, you are hereby placed under arrest. Surrender peacefully and your death will be painless¡± Blah, Blah, Blah. Vincent was always such a drama queen. Thankfully, his blow hard monologue gave me enough time to finish my spells. The first spell sprang into place with a calculated delay, building a wall of force in the shell of my former doorway. The incompetents who followed Vincent would be too inept to break it, and if he¡¯s half the man I thought, he¡¯d see it¡¯s safer for them on the other side. Either way, the delay repeater built into the spell frame gave just enough time for Vincent to cross the threshold alone. Predictably dashing headlong into my second spell. He¡¯s struck with the most mana-efficient mid-grade curse I could muster. It wouldn¡¯t be wise to strip him of his entire divine blessing, but I needed this fight to look convincing. If he struggled too much, I might not have fulfilled my contingency requirements. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.Vincent paused for only a moment to glance over his shoulder before he charged me again. Babbling some nonsense about trusting his ¡°friends¡±, as if he himself could be trusted. I didn¡¯t have enough time to weave together my next volley before he closed the distance. His sword shredded my first six warding layers in a single swing. The strain on my mind was a searing pain as I was knocked across the room, my spell frames stuttered from the loss of focus. Fucking heroes. Impacting the wall behind me shattered another ward, leaving me with only the three interior protections. Fucking. heroes. ¡°Andras. Surrender now and I will entreat the church to spare your life. There is no need for anyone to die here.¡± Vincent offered. I¡¯m sure in his mind it seemed like some great kindness, offering a final mercy. I am no fool though, he lies as easily as he breathes. ¡°You are right Vincent, no one needs to die today. This bloodshed was a choice, Your choice, and a choice I hope you take to your grave¡± I explained through gasping breaths while I struggled to my feet. Thankfully my mind worked better than my lungs, and by the time I regained my footing, the second volley of spells was complete. My eyes filled with inky black clouds at the same moment as Vincent¡¯s, [Sympathetic Blinding] overtook us both. I had mana sense to fall back onto, Vincent did not. His skill, [Sense Vitality] was easily circumvented by my second spell. [False Death], masked me in a shroud of necrotic energies, to any outside observation I would seem like a walking corpse. ¡°I committed no crimes, Vincent. All I ever did was help you, aide you. My methods may be unorthodox, but that never bothered you before.¡± I felt my voice grow louder and louder with each word. ¡°Tell me. Who convinced you that I was so evil? The church? The emperor? Does your new life of fame not fit with your old friends?¡±. Dodging each blind strike from Vincent¡¯s [Sword of Light] skill kept me dancing around the room as I begged him for answers. I knew he wouldn¡¯t tell me though, so I cast one final spell. [Shroud of Silence] wrapped around me, hiding my footsteps from any detection so I could I close the distance between us. When I finally stood in front of him, I let the spell fall away. ¡°Did I truly mean so little to you?¡± was my final question before his sword pierced my heart. [Sympathetic Blinding] fell away and my mana drained rapidly into the holy sword through my chest. The shattered fragments of my spine screamed like daggers through my blood and I lost control of my body, slumping forward into Vincent¡¯s arms. Typical. He kills me, but won¡¯t let me die alone in peace. The look of horror and confusion in his eyes above me was sickening, even after making it all this way he was still completely clueless. A perpetual idiot. I drafted the battle plans against the Tyrant Dragon, and I healed and directed our party for years. Yet he¡¯s surprised I know every skill, every ability, every hit point on each of us? Perhaps he underestimated me, or perhaps he didn¡¯t expect my final plan to play out this way. I could hear him shouting at me, but it was distant, muffled. The hot rain on my face jostled me back from the cold of oncoming sleep. No, not rain, tears. I wasn¡¯t sleeping, I was dying. ¡°...dras. Andras! Why? Why wouldn¡¯t you surrender? I could have protected you¡± Vincent was crying. The tears weren¡¯t mine. What a fool, did he never stop to think that maybe he should have told me about his master plan to protect me? ¡°This was the only way.¡± The archmage of Darkness, Andras Tellmire Grigori spoke his final words, a cryptic declaration of his plan, and died. With former friends and current rivals rushing in around him, he received one last system message as his soul departed his body. Conditions met. Soul upload complete. Beginning search for adequate host body. Search progress¡­..0% Chapter 1 - Time to do a slip Birth - 99.9999% compatible host found. Soul download Initiated. Error. Mana reserves at critical levels. Restructuring. Restructuring. Restructure failed. Emergency mana siphon initiated. Maintenance energy siphoned from system buffer. System buffer empty. System unlock reset to final fail-safe window. System Class set to minimum variable. Soul download concluded. A rapid-fire string of notifications filled my mind before I could even open the eyes of my new body. If the spell functioned as I intended, and all signs said yes, then I was a fresh new-born so my eyes were likely still very sensitive to light. That explained the pounding headache. All other things aside, a few years of delay to system access wasn¡¯t the end of the world. It would stifle my initial skill growth a bit, but it wasn¡¯t something I couldn¡¯t recover from. I wonder how long it will be delayed anyway? Flexing the mental muscles of a new brain was odd, but eventually, I was able to formulate the system commands. Strangely though, in my original life it had been ¡°Access¡± to parse information to the system for a request, and after however long I had stayed dead the system only seemed to respond to ¡°Query¡± now. That took some trial and error to discover, but I figured it out quickly enough. ¡°Query. Count down to full system control¡±, was the first command I parsed. When I got my answer, I Immediately gave up on any further commands. No more of that for today. Full system unlock in: 17 Years 11 Months 3 weeks 8 days 16 hours 32 minutes 47 seconds The final number slowly ticked downwards as I watched it. The timer, infuriating as it was, did give me a few pieces of information. I was initially hoping to unlock the system by age five in optimal circumstances, and I¡¯d prepared myself to wait until age ten at worst. The timer hovering behind my eyes explained three things. Firstly, I would have to wait until my eighteenth birthday. Second, I had been born sometime in the past eight hours. Third, I had not been dead long enough for the calendar to change much. Still twelve months in a year, still nine days in a week. This would have to do, for now, my still-damp baby body couldn¡¯t support high cognition for long, and despite just waking up, I was already exhausted. I hate kids. Six months - Judging by the shifts in my system timer, It had been several months since my successful download into this host body. Instances of full consciousness had been few and far between unfortunately. My earlier estimations had proven correct though. The full cognitive load of my mind was nearly impossible for this body to sustain. I¡¯ve been ¡®awake¡¯ in truth for only brief bursts, the rest of the time the mind regressed into a more age appropriate child like state. The brief windows of time I was granted, along with the vague and fuzzy memories allowed me to gather several key pieces of information thankfully. The rest of my measly waking minutes were spent trying to further this body¡¯s development with the knowledge I had. To begin at the beginning though, mustn¡¯t get ahead of myself. The building that had thus-far comprised the entirety of my second life was in a poorer rural area. From what I¡¯d seen there was no artificial light of any kind, magic or candle, and thus our daily activities relied heavily on the sun, so I concluded we don¡¯t have extravagant means. My new family was poor. The windows, when open, contained no glass panes, thus rural. However, the abundance of food, though simple, suggested my family to be competent at whatever it was they do when they go outside. They had yet to take me with them while I was ¡®awake¡¯. On the subject of family, in the many weeks of my new life, I had met several people. Most of my memories of the occasional visitors were vague and difficult to parse, but the constant presence of two figures, one man and one woman, led me to believe these were my parents. They did not speak a language I recognized, so I had been operating under the assumption that I was reborn rather far from my homeland of Teraq. The female answered when the male called her ¡°Neia¡±, I decided hence forth to refer to her as Mother. Mother called the man ¡°Daniel¡± or ¡°Idiot¡±, The first was more common, and the tone of the second suggested some kind of insult. I think father¡¯s name was Daniel. Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! Mother was as tall as father but her presence made her seem taller than Father was, she was built incredible elegantly. I did not know if this was hormonal influence on emotion, but her presence was calming. Her golden hair and shining green eyes, coupled with a fierce point to her ears betrayed her as an elf. Father was as human as they come though, which suggested I am a Half-Elf in this life. The extra life span would come in handy. Father was a barrel chested man build wide and thick, his stature told of a lifetime of hard physical exertion and prowess wrought from sweat and effort. His strapping, nearly chiseled physique was a stark contrast to the flowing and soft features of my mother. Mother and father were the only two I seemed to be in constant, or even repetitive contact with. Every other adult person in my fuzzy memory was otherwise impossible to nail down in detail. My days were spent alone with these two, though father did leave quite frequently to do whatever his job must be. When he returned it was always with fresh food. Not that mother allowed me to eat much solid food yet. When I uploaded my soul into a magical matrix to catapult my consciousness forward in time, I never once imagined that the biggest hurdle to my return would be the mind numbing monotony of baby food. Any food that was given to me had been boiled, mashed, crushed, or otherwise pre-digested to a point that texture was a non factor and flavor may as well have been an afterthought. Even then I was blessed when my food did not come from mother directly. Yes. Indeed. Andras Grigori, greatest spellmeister of his generation was reduced to a mewling babe and forced to suckle from the ample chest of a common elven housewife. Don¡¯t get me wrong, I had my fair share of dalliances with the fairer sex, even the occasional elf. However, this woman had given birth to me, and that presented a sizable hurdle for enjoyment of the situation. The cognitive dissonance aside, my body was that of a child even if my mind was not, it was physically impossible to gain the same satisfaction as a man would regardless of how many times she stuffed her frankly disproportionate chest in my mouth. The entire situation was nothing short of complete and total humiliation. As a result, I had chosen to retreat to the fugue of non-sentience whenever she insisted on skinship. The other day I came out of my fugue with mother bathing me in a tub alongside her, only to immediately flee to the recesses of my mind. Infuriating. So, I came to the decision that any and all wakeful hours my body could handle must be spent on self improvement. Since I had no way of yet knowing how far into the future I had been born, if at all, I need to be prepared for the eventuality that Vincent was still alive and I would have to face him once again. The first steps? My first steps. But I had to walk before I could run, or in this case crawl before I could walk. Locomotion had proven difficult with an under developed nervous system, but with no small portion of effort, my endeavors were fruitful. When I finally began to pull myself across the floor, my limbs barely underneath me yet, Mother and Father both rushed into the room in a tizzy of excitement. Shouting and going on and on about something I did not understand. I assumed my clearing of this developmental milestone was earlier than their expectations. They had clearly underestimated me. With basic movement handled, It was important that I become able to support my own body weight. The muscles in my neck had developed for the most part while I was unconscious, so the weight of my head was mostly offset already. Instead, I had to focus on core strength, and limb strength. First to be able to lift myself upright, and to stay seated without falling over. My pride is injured once more. The fundamental exercises I knew to increase these muscles were impossible with the level of coordination I currently possessed, but the general movements were not. Repetition is the mother of success, so my only option was to try repeatedly and fail repeatedly. Each time I heaved myself upright only to fall back down was a step on the way to my eventual rise. An infinitesimally small step towards the overall first step, but a fraction of progress was still progress. In the meantime, since my body tired out quickly, it wouldn¡¯t do to merely devote my focus entirely to physical development. No! I also had to grasp the language of this region if I wanted to gather the information I needed to formulate a plan. The general sounds of my parents¡¯ languages were not overly familiar, but they don¡¯t seem difficult to form. Given my immersion in the language on a daily basis, I had grasped most of their phonetic rules already. Time to strike. I needed to let them know of my magical gifts. If my theories were correct, the stress syllables for magic were simple enough. I just needed to get mother¡¯s attention. ¡°Milk fiend!!, Look over here!¡± I cried out in my mind, barely managing a wail of non-verbal tones as I tossed a small wooden block as far as I could in her general direction. The toy landed only a few inches from me at best. Curse these tiny arms! Still, it was enough for Neia to come away from the vegetables she was cleaning in the washbasin and stoop down in front of me. Now was my chance. Strike Andras! ¡°Maa¡­¡± Fuck! Magic damnit. Magic. ¡°Maa¡­ Maa.¡± was the best I could muster, my mistake already apparent when Mother¡¯s eyes began to water. Clearly I¡¯d neglected to train jaw muscles to a necessary minimum. When mother swept me up off the floor and held me tight against her outrageous chest, I resigned myself not to speak carelessly again. Blast you woman! I was not expressing affection, I need magic! Chapter 2- The power of a name 1 year - Several more months had elapsed and with each passing day my body grew stronger, I had truly begun to think of it as ¡°my body¡± rather than ¡°the host body¡±. The affection I felt for Mother and Father was no doubt a side effect of this form and the hormones of childhood, but did knowing the origin of an emotion make it any less real for those experiencing it? I couldn¡¯t say. In any case, things were progressing well. The duration of my full consciousness was increasing, and the gaps of fugue between them were shrinking at a similar rate. Soon my mind would be entirely mine once again. Though I had to admit, being able to disassociate at the drop of a hat had significant advantages so far. I didn¡¯t need to worry myself too much though, my body had finally begun producing teeth! My days of relying on Neia and Daniel for my sustenance were soon to come to a glorious end. The milk fiend would be dissuaded from humiliating me by force if necessary! Though, it should be noted that the agony of having my jaw split from the inside by force-able protrusions of bone was no small torment. I understood more than ever why children cry so much. The humiliation of diapers and the torment of teething, it was a fate I would not wish upon many. On the subject of food, the nutritional density of my diet thus-far had proven rather substantial. Neia had humiliated me less and less frequently as my teeth came in, and I had yet to have to resort to violence against her milk tanks. I¡¯m sure neither of us would have enjoyed that. As milk consumption declined, my parents began handing me other solid foods in more frequency. Most of them cubed, or cut into small pieces, but occasionally I received a vegetable or a fruit in it¡¯s entirety to relieve some of my pain by teething. In the past few months I experienced a rapid up-tick not only in the size of my body, but in muscular competence as well. I think I¡¯d soon be able to approach the hurdle of walking. Mother would no doubt make a fuss about my first steps, but they were necessary if I wished to learn more of this place. Achieving my first steps required me to clear several incidental milestones first. My languages was coming along fine, and was mostly unrelated to my physical endeavors. However, there was one literal barrier I could not overcome alone. The door. It was not only safer to try and walk outside with grass and dirt to cushion me, and no furniture to avoid, but it served a dual purpose of gathering intel. When I looked up at Father and said ¡°Owside?¡± for the first time, he nearly broke down the door in his rush to take me. Daniel was earnest if nothing else. Once outside I was greeted to a visage I had all but expected, and even still it took my breath away. Deep green rolling hills and soft swaying grass pastures. The gentle peace and quiet of a rural farmland waiting just outside my home for all this time, finally greeted me like a friend. I¡¯d seen glimpses out of windows, and I¡¯d even stood in the doorway before, but being held in Father¡¯s arms at the edge of the yard was different. I could see the other houses scattered around at a distance, and the sun felt warmer on my face. The height advantage even let me see past the fence. I giggled in glee before I could stop myself, The horror, and set my full focus learning to walk. Father set me down and I began to stand up, an endeavor of itself that I had only recently mastered. While standing unassisted had proven a trifling matter, if I attempted to move almost at all, I often found myself falling. The combination of an underdeveloped brain and sensitive inner ear. Each wobbling step was a failure, and soon Daniel realized what I was trying to do. Grasping my hands from above me, he served as a stabilizer and I waddled my way in small circles around our garden. Effective, if embarrassing. Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. I had to repeat this process for several days before I could take a step without falling over. Though a single step was all I managed at first, within a few weeks, mother and father were both going outside with me to watch me fumble for movement. I suppose without recording magic they wanted to see my steps and burn it into their memory. The ruckus they caused at the end of the week when I finally managed six steps unassisted has even attracted the neighbor down the dirt path we call a road. I felt like I¡¯d seen this person before, but I didn¡¯t recognize them enough to know for certain. Before they could reach our gate though, mother picked me up and whisked me inside. I could hear father talking as the door shut behind us, but I was more concerned with our sudden flight. Was mother hiding me from the neighbors? And if I had actually met this person before, was mother hiding herself? I couldn¡¯t answer either of these questions on my own at that point, and I lacked the language skills to ask detailed questions. Thus, language would be my next goal as I continued to practice walking unassisted. The language in this region was most definitely not Teraqi. I wasn¡¯t even sure it belonged to a similar language group with how unfamiliar it sounded to me. I might even have been on the opposite side of the world to Teraq, since I thought myself well versed in our neighboring tongues. Language was no barrier to my intellect however, and while sentence structure did still evade me slightly, the phonetic rules of word construction were simple. I had grown an increasingly potent list of words, most of them associated via observation of my parents, but each one another granule in my ability to comprehend others. The word for magic was not something I had heard yet, my parents both appeared content to live their lives entirely mundane. However, most cultures were similar in their word for it, so I would be able to extrapolate the word for certain soon. When I finally achieved speech this nation, wherever I was, would be brought to heel for my endeavors. They would protect and worship the prodigy of a generation. For now though, I desired snackies. Gods dammit, why do my thoughts keep wandering like this. ¡°Mama?¡± I called out across the house from my seat on a coarsely woven rug in our central room. Neia, my mother, seemed to respond better to infantalized pronunciations than any grammatically correct words. Soon she came sweeping into the room like a summer breeze. Everything she did had a flowing elegance and rhythm to it, like she merely floated above the world rather than living in it. ¡°Hi honey!¡± She smiled brightly and lifted me from the floor into her arms. I couldn¡¯t help but smile on my own in response, the warmth of her presence was a subconscious comfort to my body. ¡°Carrot!¡± I managed to shout out after a momentary fumble. The interior of my mouth was shifting almost constantly with these teeth, so pronouncing the ¡°R¡± sound had been difficult. Plus, the vegetable in question was crunchy and made my teeth hurt less. ¡°Are your teeth hurting or are you just hungry?¡± Mother questioned as she carried me across the house to the kitchen and larder. I don¡¯t know what this woman expected me to say, I¡¯d barely gotten more than one word out at a time, but effort yielded results. ¡°Teef?¡± is the only answer I managed, accidentally inflecting my tone to sound like a question as I struggled with the sounds necessary for the word. It was close enough. Soon I¡¯m placed in a high chair at our only table, a freshly peeled carrot in my hands, the sheer size of the thing requiring both hands for me to manipulate it. ¡°There you go V???i???n???c???e???n???t???¡± mother cooed down at me, gently patting my back as she set off to do several small chores in the kitchen while supervising me. I wasn¡¯t paying attention to her though. I was caught off guard by the word she spoke. I¡¯d heard it several times now since my rebirth, and always at the end of a sentence. I hadn¡¯t been able to place it¡¯s meaning so far, but there are times when I didn¡¯t hear it for days. Just then, I understood most of the words in that sentence. Except that one. Mother was speaking to me, she¡¯d handed me the carrot and then said ¡°there you go¡± but that word was last. My heart beat began to race in my chest. No. Dear gods no. I prayed that this was just a peculiarity of language, that it¡¯s just a coincidental expression that sounds similar. I couldn¡¯t bare the thought. I needed it to be anything else. Was my name Vincent? I felt my new teeth gently pierce my lip, my focus shattered by the sudden revelation. For the first time in my living memory, I cried willingly. Chapter 3 - Leaping towards literacy 2 years - Another year had passed since my reincarnation into this place. The time was beginning to flow much faster from my own perception. Each individual day I spent in this body, it became a larger and larger piece of my overall whole. In time, it would come to be more comfortable to me than the memories of my first life. Perhaps those memories would even fade. I couldn¡¯t say, but I did hope dearly that my skills and knowledge of magic would last long enough for me to reinforce them into the new skill selections the system would grant me. I had made several attempts to start with the most basic building blocks I could manage in such a young body, but without access to the system I was never truly able to tell if my efforts were having permanent or significant results. Mana shaping was much harder without a refined mana sense to tell me if the shapes and patterns were correct, and unfortunately Mana sense was nearly impossible to train without the ability to shape mana at least partially. I vicious cycle if ever there was one. Regardless, I persisted in those efforts daily. Thankfully I didn¡¯t have to rely on magic as my only source of personal development. It was still entirely feasible to focus on increasing the capabilities of this body even if my timescales had shifted a bit. I was no longer in a position to learn new words in a matter of days, or coordinate my limbs over the course of a week. I had to function in months, if not longer, and plan for the future in a more broad sense. The most prepared I could be was the only acceptable goal. To that end, I continued to develop my fine motor skills. The interior of this house had become my domain. Why Neia and Daniel insisted on padding all the corners and door handles, I did not know. It¡¯s as if they believed me to be some bumbling fool. Still, my days of wobbling unsteadily only to walk a few feet were over. I now had complete and total control of my legs. Unfortunately, I was small. My most dedicated efforts were not enough to take me far, and my stamina failed quickly. On the bright side I was quickly increasing the speeds at which I could comfortably transit. I was never much one for running in my previous life, but I would be the first to admit that a minimum level of physical fitness was necessary for an effective and efficient life. A sound mind resides in a sound body, one can¡¯t exist without the other. But movement was only one half of the puzzle of control. To successfully challenge my surroundings they must bend to my will. Without mana to guide my intent I had no choice but to use my own hands. Nothing in this house is safe! I would grasp, grab, toss, through, and squeeze anything my hands can reach. The strength of my fingers shall rival the strength of my magic and none shall appose me! Again my thoughts run away from me. Is it this body or something more? Can I halt any further degradation? ¡°Vincent, what do you have in your hands?¡± Mother¡¯s voice interrupted me as I attempted to pull a small spoon from the table. Curse you woman! I need this spoon to build my sanctum. With haste I fled the scene of my theft, aiming for the safety of the nearby hallways. My legs, accursedly stubby, failed me in my flight and I was quickly apprehended. ¡°Vincent, darling, where did you get that? And why are you all sticky?¡± I am not sticky Mother! You are just strangely clean for a house devoid of running water. With my treasure stolen from me and replaced to a higher shelf, I could do nothing to rectify this injustice and instead had to turn my attentions to other hurdles. Doors. For months now doors have contained me in this house. We had solid wooden doors at the exterior entrance, and one separating the main bedroom from the kitchen. All other thresholds were demarcated with curtains. The thick woven curtains had long ago become no obstacle, yet the wooden barricades still entrapped me in the house of my father. I could just barely reach them if I found something to perch upon, it appeared my body was slightly taller than an average human child. The precarious nature of these climbs had resulted in a few unfortunate tumbles, but no growth was ever without pain, much as my teeth can attest to. Of course, I don¡¯t mean to say that this house was always a prison. Shortly after my first birthday, father began taking my to the village with him occasionally. I had met several of the other people here, and it even seemed there are a few children older than me. I had chosen not to learn any of their names at the moment as these seemed unnecessary if and until I interacted with them independently. The older women seemed especially fond of asking me inane questions about my age, name, or such. Did they believe my memory to be faltering? Like I would ever forget something so simple. The trips to the village had allowed me to gather more useful information. Like the jobs everyone had to do. Daniel, my father, was apparently a guard here in the village. He took regular patrols around the exterior borders to keep an eye on any encroaching beasts. Similarly, when the village was not in immediate danger he served as some form of constable. Breaking up disputes and dispensing legal punishment to rowdy miscreants. Expectedly, here in such a rural place, the majority of his job consisted of shooing off naughty children and stopping the occasional bar fight. You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. I didn¡¯t gain much information about his class or skills, but I had to imagine it to be specialized in force redirection and physical endurance. Allowing him to do combat with significantly larger creatures without injury while maintaining his effectiveness against other humanoids before needing to resort to execution. Perhaps some variation of the [Militiamen] class? I was curious to know more and would likely ask him once my language skills develop further. I wonder what mother¡¯s class is? Regardless, there was decidedly one benefit to the infrequent trips to the village. Open space. In the dusty streets of this rural place, I could do the physical practices my body so greatly needed. It was difficult to train my coordination in running when the small cramped spaces of my home posed a threat to my physical health. In the open village roads I could run, or speedily waddle, with total freedom. Unfortunately, my father wasn¡¯t overly fond of my desire to explore this new place and stretch my young legs. Each time I wandered off, he scooped me up with his absurd strength and held me captive for some time. No matter how much I protested ¡°Down!¡±, ¡°Down!¡±, He would always choose to wait some arbitrary amount of time before he was willing to release me. Repeating the same unnecessary speech about ¡°responsibility¡± and ¡°Not getting lost¡± as if I were a complete ignoramus. I knew where the house is! We walk there every day we visit, if I couldn¡¯t find my way back by now I would have to be completely oblivious. Still, he made a good point. I suppose it was natural for people to worry about their children when they can¡¯t find them, but one would think that within the confines of the village I would be safe. Especially with all the familiar faces my father seemed to be on good terms with. If he¡¯s worried about something happening to me, it would have to be one of these people to do it, yet he was always just fine talking with them. Strange. I¡¯ve never been great at interpersonal subtlety, perhaps I¡¯m missing something. Either way, Daniel left me no choice. If he wouldn¡¯t allow me to explore the village under his supervisory gaze, I would merely have to make my escape when his attention was elsewhere. Waiting for Daniel to get distracted was not particularly difficult, thankfully, his attention span is incredibly limited. The moment he looked away, I took off like a very unsteady shot. Zooming further away at the fastest speed my legs could sustain. This did not last long unfortunately. A malicious cabal of betrayal had been instituted to keep me from my goals. Every time I managed to get even a few yards away from my father, the sinister people of this village alerted him to my position, or barred me from escaping further. Like an organized surveillance net of housewives and farm hands, the people of the village dashed my hopes and dreams. I have heard the saying ¡°it takes a village to raise a child¡± but apparently it also took a village to keep me from achieving my goals. After the first few attempts I realized how futile this whole exercise really was, and reluctantly resigned myself to supervised strolls. No use beating a dead horse, In fact, I had far more practice reanimating dead horses. Much less wasteful. Nevertheless, it was made abundantly clear my efforts were better served at home. So, I spoke, very disjointedly, with my mother in an attempt to convince her of my educational needs. I only cringed slightly when I had to say, out loud, ¡°Mama. Letters¡± as the soft shapes of my childish mouth made the L come out as a W. ¡°Wetters¡± didn¡¯t really help me here. Thankfully, my darling mother was proving herself at least partially competent the more I spoke with her. It only required two or three times before she finally understood I was begging to be taught language. Specifically how to read the language of our region. I felt as if I was grasping the spoken word well enough. This was the second worst mistake I¡¯d made within a week. To my dismay. To my despair. To my abject horror. My mother explained to me. ¡°Victor, sweetheart, I¡¯d love to. There¡¯s just not any books in the village you know, books are very expensive around here¡± Which told me two things. One, I did in fact live in ¡®fucking nowhere¡¯ as I originally guessed. Secondly, it appeared from inference that mother originally came from a place that was indeed civilized enough to be comfortably familiar with the concept of books. Something I readily expect from the elves. I am wise enough to admit, I did initially panic, almost brought to tears by the news. When mother saw my distraught face, she reacted with the poise and grace I had come to expect. ¡°It¡¯s okay darling, Hush, hush¡± she softly comforted me after scooping me up in her arms. ¡°I¡¯ll ask daddy to pick up a slate and some chalk from the next town when he goes out again. You never got a gift for your birthday right? We can teach you letters that way¡± she gently offered as I started to calm down. My own hormonal levels were making emotional regulation difficult. But is that really the case? More and More my thoughts lately feel disjointed. How much can I blame on this physical form? This was an acceptable deal, all things considered, and the next several days were spent in anxious anticipation for Father¡¯s trip. When he returned I was reminded of the feeling I used to get on winters-fest with my first life. The feeling of receiving gifts is always comforting. Yet that feeling brings with it no specific memories. I can¡¯t recall a family that would have given me any gifts. The next several weeks were also a great comfort. Each day mother would teach me a new letter, and the general sound it made. I would then spend an hour or two drawing the symbol over and over for her to check, each time erasing it and drawing it anew. Soon all the letters of this unfamiliar tongue would be at my disposal, and after, the words themselves. Chapter 4 5 years - Another astounding leap forward in time as I once again took inventory of my situation. The past several years had been very fortunate for me. Even though I would describe life in this village as ¡°slow¡± and ¡°tedious¡± the wide swaths of unfilled free time were incredibly useful to me. Most of my goals at the moment were things that required dedicated practice and frequent repetition, and being left alone for hours at a time nearly every day allowed me to make significant strides in my efforts. Of course, my parents only saw this as ¡®playing¡¯ but I knew that each centimeter crawled towards my return to glory was another milestone. Though, I was doing much less crawling if I was being honest. It had gotten to the point where I was finally comfortable running, jumping, or climbing just about anything in my usual surroundings. I did still get tired quite easily, the stamina of a child was laughable. Not to mention the frequent tumbles and falls I took from a lack of coordination. My one saving grace in this matter was the recent growth of my body. I thought the first few years of growth to be impressive, but the recent ones proved prodigious. I had easily doubled in size, though that¡¯s not saying much about my current form, just the diminutive nature of the former. My body does of course still maintained a slight and angular demeanor owing to my elven blood, but it was not a circumstance I would mourn for. I¡¯d never been a particularly determined athlete and a lack of musculature was not a great loss. No, instead my attentions were turned to a far larger and more robust injustice. A terror laid upon me not once, but twice. I knew the eventual day would come, but I had prayed for it to be much later than this. I had lost a tooth. Now, this alone wasn¡¯t too bad. The offending incisor naturally loosened over the course of several days from my first notice and fell out naturally while eating. The issue was, the new tooth growing in. There was still a gap in my jaw from the original, but the sharp corners of the new protrusion working its way up and out of my skull was only slightly less painful than growing teeth the first time. To think I would have to experience this perhaps a dozen more times when the rest of my teeth fell out sent shivers down my spine. That was a problem for the future though, no use living in fear of the present. No, I had to continue to plunge forward every single day until my system unlock. To lay a flawless foundation for the life I desired. I couldn¡¯t level up or manually take skills, the system locked me out of all of that. However, I should have been able to build up experience points, in fact they were likely to carry over and level up several times when the system did indeed unlock. One thing I¡¯d been pondering on lately was parental override. In my first life I didn¡¯t have parents when I was growing up, Not that I can remember, and as far back as I could remember the system was always unlocked. This time though? I had a loving family that wouldn¡¯t leave me alone even if I asked. I¡¯d be able to meet the requirements for a skill and get Neia to run the parental override for me. Of course, this did run several risks. She could refuse, which I doubted my mother would do, or she could pick skills that would be nearly useless to me and I¡¯d have to wait more than a decade to get rid of them. My best chance was to explain what I wanted to her after I¡¯d already qualified for a handful of skills and hope she understood the sentiments that burned like eternal embers in my heart. Thankfully mother and I had grown much closer over the past few years of my reading lessons. What started out initially as a very simple teaching of letters had since evolved into a system where she was slowly teaching me new words. Both in the language of the region which I learned was ¡°Hikos¡± as well as her mother tongue, Elvish. ¡°Learning¡± Elvish had been quite the experience I must say. I was frankly already fluent in what is known as ¡®Low Elvish¡¯ or the tongue of Elves and their descendants outside the native Elven lands. My mother, apparently, spoke High Elvish, and while most of the vocabulary and rules were shown to be transferable she had given me strange looks and corrected my pronunciation on more than one occasion. My reading lessons were becoming more and more rare as Neia ran out of subjects for me to learn. After a certain point she ran out of real, usable vocabulary and we devolved into theory and impractical edge cases, matters I would never use and matters Neia was unqualified to teach. If I wished to proceed with my education any further I would have had to either turn to new subjects or seek a new teacher, neither of which was particularly useful. Now that I¡¯d grasped the numerical system for Hikos math was not an issue either, so my attentions turned to the system. At that time, my parents and I had come to an agreement, where so long as I promised not to wander away from the house on my lonesome, they would leave me alone in our garden with little interference. My request prompted a rather spirited discussion about young people needing privacy. It¡¯s of little consequence either way, but I relished the time for experimentation. I had recently learned how to query the system for my status despite being locked out of everything else, and in preparation for my discussion with mother I reviewed it in full.
Name: Vincent Stesk Strength: 10 Classes: You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. Half-Elf Child lvl 1
Hp: 20 Vitality: 10
Mp: 60 Agility: 10
Active Class: Half-Elf Child Intelligence: 50
Charisma: 5
Willpower: 100
General Skills: Class Skills: Half-Elf Child
When I first reincarnated I would have given anything for a [Magical Prodigy] or [Boy Genius] class on the prospects of their stat increases alone. To be saddled with a racial variant of the common [Child] class was grating to no small measure, but there was nothing I could do about it now. With a child class it was practically guaranteed to meet the lvl 1 experience requirements before my system unlocked. Honestly, since I¡¯d gain [Child] class xp until I¡¯m 18 it would be rather simple to hit the first three class milestones from the beginning. I expected to catapult directly to my level 25 class with no issues what so ever. Skill acquisition as a child was also boosted, so my experiments would receive sizable dividends either way. I had ten general skill slots that would last the entirety of my life in this body. Unlearning a skill was possible, but both dramatically inefficient and remarkably painful. It was best to aim for my general skills as early as possible. I didn¡¯t expect the class skill list for a child to be overly impressive. My request list for mother was as follows. [Dubtiful Student] - I was certain I¡¯d already met the prerequisite number of study hours for my age, and the bonus to skill acquisition and experience gain in the future would be one of my better options. If for whatever reason it seemed to be locked any form of study boost or experience buff would be good enough. [Bountiful Energy] - while not directly something I was keen on, needing to sleep and rest less often was extremely useful when skill and level grinding would come up later. Probably not the intended use of the skill, but good for my purposes. [Curious Kid], [Quick Learner], were both useful in this regard as they helped pick up on new topics faster. The final class slot was my bargaining chip with mother, allowing her to choose one of my class skills was likely to make the rest more appealing to her. Even if all my skills were positive buffs to learning, she might want me to take something like [Well behaved] or [Polite] since I had a tendency to ¡®get out of hand¡¯ and ¡®not listen to instructions¡¯. Pfft. Mothers. The only three general skills I was concerned with were [Mana Shaping], [Mana Sense], and [Mana Control] which would allow me to become more aware of the mana both inside and out of my body, and to exert my will on it. [Spell shaping], would be useful, but it was likely to be more powerful if I picked it up as a class skill and once I had [Mana Shaping] I would be able to do spellforms manually. These seven skills, plus whatever mother chooses for my class, were hand picked to make the acquisition of magic easier once my system unlocked. Thus, my labor of passion began. I would meet all the prerequisites for each of these skills before I approached mother about the parental override and she would be astounded by my aptitude for magic! I would become the talk of the town and no longer would my parents equivocate on the topic of ¡°chores¡±, the future would be dedicated to magic! I would not rake the leaves! Let out into the garden every morning, I dedicated myself solely to the gathering of new and more powerful skills than I was granted in my first life. Stopping only for meals and the occasional nap, my efforts were as tireless as my body allowed. My first step, [Mana Shaping]. Mana itself was more akin to the breath of reality than an external energy source. It could build and fade, ebb and flow, much like water. Unfortunately, attempting to grasp it was like trying to catch water with your bare hands. Sure, you can close your hand in a river and there would always be some water in your grasp, you can even cup your hands together and lift some of the water up and out. However, you can never hold it for long, nor can you hold as much as you would like. It was far easier for most to focus on the manipulation of the raw mana within their own body. A resource many physically inclined individuals called ¡°Stamina¡±. This would not work if I sought to return to my magically fueled glory. So, my mind was pushed to it¡¯s limit stretching to grasp the fundamental behaviors of mana once again from the start. It felt similar to retraining a muscle after years of disuse. It was difficult, but not impossible. That was of course, usually. Here in Hikos the mana was like a thundering avalanche compared to the subtle snowfall I was familiar with. That was not a good sign. All historical records point to mana signatures rising gradually for the preceding five hundred years before my death, for it to cycle so fully can only mean one of two things. Either I had been propelled so vastly far into the future that the outer bounds of my spell were shattered into dust, and the mana reserves had to account for another thirty thousand years of forward travel. Or I¡¯d accidentally gone backwards. Mana cycling occurs on an order of magnitude longer than human civilizations, so I would have expected advanced technology and magic to be everywhere if I truly went that far forward. But then all the pieces began to fall into place. Mother only spoke High Elvish, no one here seemed to have ever heard a single gasp of the Terraqi language, and Hikos followed no language group I was familiar with. The higher mana signature, the lack of mass produced books, the lack of mass produced anything! Dear gods. Half the spells I knew hadn¡¯t even been invented yet, and the other half were reliant on the first half. Shit. Shitshitshitshitshit. In my moment of panic, an idea dawned on me. If these spells didn¡¯t exist yet, could I invent them first? Would I be heralded as the greatest mage of an era? That would certainly divert my current present from the timeline my past-future occupies. Right? I could stop Vincent from being born. I could prevent him from betraying me. Hell, If I went back as far as I thought, I could prevent Terraq from ever being founded. How hard could rewriting history actually be? Chapter 5 10 years ¡°How hard hard can rewriting the past be?¡± - Andras Grigori, biggest fucking idiot of a generation. How hard can it be? Really fucking hard. I basically had to start from scratch to build up the skills and spell forms I was familiar with and do it all in an overpoweringly high mana density environment. Learning a skill the system already recognized is an order of magnitude easier than being the first person to acquire the skill and getting it recognized. It was like trying creating a new number or color without using the others as reference points. Outrageously frustrating. The only upside to this ridiculous system lockout was that I had a massive buffer of time to meet my early skill prerequisites. Though realizing that I would have to spend multiple years to hit my original goals was a momentary speed bump. I¡¯d opted to speak to mother about class skills and just leave the magic skills for later. ¡°Hey Mama?¡± I asked out of the blue one day. Neia preferred when I used pet names rather than articulating ¡®mother¡¯ fully. She nearly cried the first time I used her name, so I had been careful not to do that again. ¡°The box in the sky says I can¡¯t access the ¡®sees tem¡¯¡± I explained, purposefully playing up the inept child facade to put her in a receptive mood. ¡°I¡¯ve got all these spots for skills but I can¡¯t pick anything¡­¡± I trailed off, hoping she remembered our earlier discussions on the functions of the system and it¡¯s classes/skills as much as I clearly did. ¡°Can you help me?¡± I begged in the sweetest tone I could force without vomiting. I did adore my mother in this life, I loved her very much in fact, She took care of me very well and dedicated her time to helping me. My issue was with pretending to be a clueless whelp to save face when I could just as easily explain this entire situation in a single afternoon. My only reservation was how she may react, and what the fallout would be if my secret became known before I had system access. ¡°Sure Vincent!¡± Mother smiled back at me, drying her hands at the washbasin and leaving the kitchen to come join me in our central room. I was sat on the floor, drawing my status out on our slate, being careful not to waste too much of my precious chalk. ¡°Are there any skills you really want to get? Have any interesting ones been offered to you?¡± She asked softly. I did enjoy it when she didn¡¯t treat me like a fool. Daniel, my father, had a habit of talking at me rather than to me, like he was looking down at a dog or a moron. Mother was gentle and graceful enough that it felt natural when we have conversations. ¡°I haven¡¯t. No pops ups or anything.¡± I harrumphed, clearly displaying my displeasure at the lack of cool offerings. ¡°Can you reads them to me? The symptoms won¡¯t let me read any menus.¡± I grumbled again, deliberately choosing each word to reinforce my facade of frustration. ¡°Of course sugar! Just hold still okay?¡± Neia instructed me, taking a seat on the floor beside me and slowly focusing in on the Parental Override feature of a locked system interface. Shortly there after she began reading off the available skill names to me and the descriptions of what they did. I didn¡¯t pay too much attention to the predictable basics like [House work] or [Patience], knowing full well that I intended for my mother to pick one skill for me initially. The hum drum daily life skill she could choose would be her decision and I wouldn¡¯t worry myself with it. No, instead I listened with apt attention to all the other skills I had spent the past five years building a base for. When she read a skill name, I had questions about the specific wording, trying to squeeze as much information out as I could. I was blown away by my options. I had not qualified for [Dubitful Student], instead the closest variant I had was [Obsessive Mind], a much more narrow skill tailored towards learning in a specific field but with exponentially larger returns than the broad spectrum [Student] skill variants. According to the description mother provided, my version of [Obsessive Mind] was geared towards all things mana and magic. A perfect choice. Similarly, nearly every other skill I even considered came in a more specific or difficult to acquire variant than I originally hoped. Each of them laid another brick into a stronger foundation even despite such a long system unlock. [Mana Sense] was replaced by [Mana Sight]. The enhanced version of the skill allowed for more direct sensory information rather than a vague feeling. From what I understood the skill functioned like a sixth additional sense, allowing you to ¡®see¡¯ mana as if it functioned the same way humanoid sight used light. It wasn¡¯t reliant on your eyes, and was far more detailed than [Mana Sense]. Instead of just feeling the mana around me and its density, I would be able to ascertain type, concentration, and flow as well. A skill I hadn¡¯t even had in my first life. [Mana Shaping] was replaced by the upgraded version [Mana Forming] which normally took a decade or more to train and level before the upgrade was possible. Perhaps the techniques in this time are even more delayed than I thought? Or were my efforts in higher mana density wielding a higher return? I couldn¡¯t say for certain, but all of these skill offerings weren¡¯t something to complain about. I would not look this gift horse in the mouth. Confirming the skills I absolutely wanted to take with mother was difficult, once we actually began discussing my choices she was unfortunately overcome with emotion. ¡°Vincent! All these skill options are wonderful sweetiepie, some of these I¡¯ve only heard of from your grandfather. I always knew you were a smart little man¡± She practically wept with joy, painfully pinching my face and glossing over what appeared to be the first mention of any extended family in my life. ¡°Momma, I have some skills I want to take, but since you¡¯re helping me would you pick out one of the Half-Elf skills?¡± I asked, my missing teeth forcing the ¡®f¡¯¡¯s in Half-Elf to be pronounced more like ¡°Halv-Elv¡±. ¡°I have four alweady¡± I offered in context, further struggling with the pronunciation of the ¡°R¡± sound in Hikos. ¡°Aw!¡± Neia melted into a motherly smile, clearly touched by my desire for her involvement in what was a fundamental building block for the rest of my life. ¡°I¡¯d be happy to pick out a good skill for you sugarplum!¡± She confirmed, once again refusing to dispense with the needless pet names. She grasped me in a hug before I could react and held me close for a moment before she began reading over my skills once more, this time to herself. This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. The hug was fine honestly. She¡¯s my mom after all. I just couldn¡¯t get over being called ¡°Sugarplum¡± or ¡°Honeybunch¡±. It was humiliating. Once she seemingly came to a decision, I pulled up my status to confirm it for myself. Everything looked okay at first, and then my heart drops deep into my stomach.
Name: Vincent Stesk Strength: 10 Classes: Half-Elf Child lvl 1
Hp: 20 Vitality: 10
Mp: 60 Agility: 10
Active Class: Half-Elf Child Intelligence: 50
Charisma: 5
Willpower: 100
General Skills: Class Skills: Half-Elf Child
Mana Sight - lvl 1 Obsessive Mind - Lvl 1
Mana Forming - lvl 1 Energetic Soul - lvl 1
Mana Command - lvl 1 Inquisitive Spirit - lvl 1
Rapid Aquisition - lvl 1
Cutie Patootie - lvl 1
[Mana Sight], [Mana Forming], and [Mana Command] were all great. They¡¯re upgraded versions of the sense, shaping, and control skills I had considered already. [Obsessive Mind] had replaced dutiful student, [Energetic Soul] replaced bountiful energy and lets me burn mp in place of stamina for prolonged physical activity. It all looked great! Except the last skill. Why, just, why? I was likely to have these skills for the rest of my life, and Neia had seriously chosen one called [Cutie Patootie]. I could learn languages in weeks with [Rapid Aquisition] at high levels, [Inquisitive Spirit] would help me formulate new spell forms from scratch and find lost sources of knowledge. What on earth could [Cutie Patootie] possible contribute?
[Cutie Patootie] - Lvl 1 Passive skill ¡°Who could say no to that face?¡± Skill user experiences a minor correction to physical appearance, appearing more well put together even when injured or filthy. Skill user experiences a slight correction to social appraisal from others when presenting themselves in a harmless or adorable manner. Effects doubled for women 10+ years or older than the skill user.
Skill name aside, it was basically a reputation buff. It made outward appearance easier to maintain, and helped me make good first impressions. All in all, not that bad, I just hoped the skill would evolve to have a better name and maybe ditch the last line rider. A wizard of the dark arts already carried a certain negative context. If people¡¯s mother¡¯s and grandmother¡¯s started to be unnaturally kind to me that just added another layer of issue I¡¯d prefer not to address. All things considered it could have been significantly worse for me, I think I actually got off pretty good. Avoiding a skill like [Speak when spoken to] could be a big deal when you¡¯re locked out of your own system controls. Regardless, with new skills in hand my goals inched ever so slightly closer. The past few years had seen astounding increase to my physical size. Given, I didn¡¯t start from very tall, but I no longer felt like I lived in a world of giants. Every few months it seemed fewer and fewer everyday tasks required my reliance on another person, and while I did care for my parents, not having to ask for help just to open a door had been delightful. On the note of doors my increased height, now nearly a meter and a half, had made it so Daniel and Neia could no longer restrict me as easily. I could come and go from the house as I wished, lest they found a way to lock the doors out of my reach. The first few times I wandered off had been an event of course, with both of them giving detailed lectures as to why I should let them know. Honestly, if I just wanted some privacy, what was the harm. I hadn¡¯t seen a single mana-beast anywhere near this town and when I grew up the first time they were everywhere! The increased mana density somehow made this time safer than any other I knew of. I digressed again. The current focus of my attention was finding time to actually train my new skills. With my new found freedom I had begun making trips into and out of the village. Having of course come to an agreement with my parents regarding the responsibility of such things. I was not allowed to leave the confines of the village proper, and they expected me to take on some more responsibilities around the house. Father¡¯s exact words on the matter were ¡°You can¡¯t just be responsible when it¡¯s convenient for you. If you want to start being a big boy, you need to realize that comes with a few not-so-fun requirements too¡± No amount of arguing would likely change his mind on things anyway, and the deal was acceptable enough in the first place. So I agreed without hesitation. The final details we settled on revolved around my trips to the village being unsupervised, but I had to be willing to go pick up our groceries and supplies whenever asked. In practice this meant I was bringing home a small parcel just about every time I went out, but that was of little consequence. The village itself represented an unprecedented space for learning, reconnaissance, and the least exciting part of human growth, socializing. As much as I had a tendency to despise other humans, having peer relationships and the recognition or respect of others was key to a successful life while still living in society. In order to avoid a repeat of my first life and death, I needed others to truly care about me. To the point they would not betray me. The lack of heartbreak was a bonus as well. As uncomfortable as it would be in the long run, I needed relationships with others. And, though I regretted having to admit it, having no peers or even friends of a similar physical age was dramatically isolating. For lack of a more acceptable, less humiliating word, I¡¯d been lonely. I was lonely still. My world and everything I knew about it had been left behind when I died. I had tried to run from this fact, I had tried to pretend like it didn¡¯t bother me. Like it doesn¡¯t bother me. It does. If I wanted to avoid falling into a pit of despair and self pity, I had to move on with my life and actually live it. Chapter 6 Socializing. Social skills are the key to winning friends and influencing people, and if I wished to be successful in my new life I had to master this subtle art-form. I regretted not starting earlier, due in part to a rural upbringing and reserved personality, but I can¡¯t delay any longer! I had formulated the perfect plan to see my efforts fruitful. Step 1. My long term plan now that I had unlocked skills was to see them all leveled to the current level 5 maximum. To that end, I would practice my skills in more open and communal spaces. This way, as I began to display prominence with my magical prowess, the other residents of the village would have no choice but to acknowledge my superiority, and thus they would flock to me like the mindless sheep always flock to the powerful. The useful skill levels would be a very large bonus to this portion of the plan as well. When my [Mana Forming] reached a high enough degree I could begin to manually form spells. I was unsure what the level would be for the forming variant, but with [Mana Shaping] It was unlocked at exactly level 5. For a more advanced skill, I imagined level four at the latest, if not three. With spells in hand this monotonous rural life would become exponentially more bearable. The magical revolution looms! Prepare thine self peasant masses! Your savior is at hand. In the process of training up my new skills, I had become a more constant fixture of village life. Gone were the days of isolated rural family life. Instead, I was quickly forming inroads with the people of the village. Near the center of the town lived a young boy named Clifton. He was a touch younger than me and a hair larger. His father was headman, responsible for organizing the militia and administering to the town as well as his own farm. Clifton, like his father, was a beast of a boy with as much muscle as sense and a oafish look beneath his dirty brown mop of hair. He meant well though, He reminded me of Vincent in that manner. Too strong for his own good. On a related side note, I made it a point to become familiar with the tradesfolk here in the village. Everyone farmed for their sustenance to some degree, but we had a few necessary craftsmen for essential tools that supplemented their table with bartering. My goal was to pick up a few odd jobs, dabble here and there in as many fields as I could, and establish a wide base for my eventual class-ups. To that end, The local smith had been a frequent visit of mine. I feigned interest in his daughter Leigh as much as his forge, and the aging man I suspected to be of dwarven descent seemed not to mind. Leigh herself is a stout girl, two years my senior and already partially system unlocked. She could take skills and such, but her class upgrades were apparently locked for several more years. She had a forge skill of her own and acted as her father¡¯s apprentice and more recently, my tutor in metallurgy. Despite being older than I, Leigh was practically the same height as I was, though her sturdy and at times rather adorable build had led us to see more eye to eye than many others. I of course was not attracted to children, but I must admit when she smiled there was an involuntary reaction in my chest. Her hair reminded me of the forge, as did the heat in my face. While I made no pretense to being a particularly skilled metalworker, Leigh had helped me grasp the basics quite well. I felt confident that I had qualified long ago for any class expansions, but I would miss the opportunity to be near her, so our training continued. Likewise I had visited the local carpenter, a man my father insists was a stonemason yet seemed to do nothing but carve gravestones, a combination tailor, leather worker, and cobbler, as well as the largest family farm by volume. The Prescots had three brothers, their wives, and fifteen total children living in the large house at the edge of the forest. The space between the village and them seemed barely enough to feed such a hoard. I say children but even the youngest Prescot broodling was more than 6 years my senior, and they seemed more infatuated with each other than they did anything going on in the village. Best left alone if you ask me. But, as such, my web of understanding had slowly narrowed around this village and my rural life. I learned we were called Romsey Village, and I had at least passing familiarity with everyone here and their jobs. They knew me by name, and I them. If I was to gain anything else it would be from the careful and constant nurturing of these relationships as well as diligent training. Diligence was something I could manage. In fact, with my age and independence reaching a point so as to explain any undo curiosity, I could now broach a subject I had thought long and hard about for years now. ¡°Hey mama?¡± I asked one evening during dinner. ¡°Yes vincent?¡± my mother Neia looked up from her own meal with a smile. ¡°So, uhm, everybody has a class right? And I have a class that says ¡®kid¡¯ on it, cuz I¡¯m a kid. Leigh says her dad has a blacksmitherers class because he does metal forging all day.¡± I began to lay the ground work for my master plan, laying it on thick with the affected cuteness. Mother was smiling already. ¡°And classes have levels right? Like I¡¯m level 1 cuz its locked.¡± Neia was nodding along politely, not wanting to interrupt. I was a sparkling conversationalist no doubt, but rarely was I the initial voice to start things. ¡°What are you and dad¡¯s classes about? Cuz, you don¡¯t do a lot of garden stuff like the other mamas, and dad¡¯s always patrolsing the forest¡± I sprang my trap, asking innocently enough in tone but striking perfectly to get to the bottom of my ultimate family mystery. ¡°Oh! Why didn¡¯t you just say so? I knew you¡¯d be pretty curious eventually¡± Mother explained rather calmly. ¡°Go get your writing slate and I¡¯ll show you some of my classes, and when papa gets home I¡¯ll ask him to show his after he has a chance to eat¡± She instructed, Daniel was out on some hunting patrol or other and likely wouldn¡¯t be home for another few hours. A near weekly occurrence that kept us stocked in fresh meat but left mother and I with lots of time alone together. Not wanting to delay any juicy secrets though, I stuffed one last roast potato chunk into my cheeks and hopped down from the dining chair just a touch too tall for me. No use in wasting mom¡¯s potatoes! She did such a great job that I was convinced she had a cooking skill at max level. The wonders she could weave with such simple ingredients. No! My mind was wandering again. Distractions like this used to be so foreign to me¡­ With haste and a force of will only described as prodigious I overcame the tender temptations of perfectly flaky root vegetables. Within moments I returned to the kitchen and handed mother my slate and chalk. I needed her to take it from me so I could return to my seat, the chairs we sat in are a bit higher than average so I had to step up a little stool to get into them. My hands being full had unbalanced me on more than one occasion. A few more inches of growth would solve this problem permanently! That or shorter chairs¡­ A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. ¡°Okay sugarplum, so we don¡¯t have to talk about it much when your dad gets home, but I¡¯m actually a few levels higher than he is¡± Neia smirked as she started to write out the specifics of her classes. I couldn¡¯t contain myself from peaking over at what she was writing, and it seemed like she was writing the class names in High Elvish and then translating them into Hikos to help me better understand the context. What a saint! A patron of learning if ever there was one. ¡°I have those extra levels though because I¡¯m an Elf, and we talked about it before how Elves live a really long time right?¡± Mother asked me, confirming the information she¡¯d ¡°told¡± me despite probably knowing more about Elf biology than she did. ¡°Well, your dad and I are of similar age when you compare total life span, how far away we are from being old folks¡± She giggled, clearly trying to simplify the concept in such a way that a child could understand. ¡°The only thing is, your dad will seem to age faster than me because of that. Faster than you since you have elf blood¡± She continued, finishing the list of classes on the slate and pushing it my way. ¡°Some people think Elves are immortal¡± She whispered, giving a knowing look that usually accompanies the phrase ¡°I¡¯ll tell you when you¡¯re older¡± whenever I asked her about what she did before she met dad. ¡°Most of the people I knew when I was younger that actually passed away didn¡¯t get old or sick or anything, they just got really tired after being around so long. So they went to sleep and stayed that way, wandering in the dreams.¡± For the first time in my life I saw my mother activate a skill. A shimmering mirage appeared at her finger tips depicting a lush and vibrant city that sparkled and shined like a diamond. I couldn¡¯t feel any mana being moved so it certainly wasn¡¯t a spell, but I didn¡¯t have enough knowledge of Elves to know what skill it was. ¡°Memories and Dreams are very important to my..¡± Mom stopped herself mid sentence to correct her wording ¡°To our people. When you live for a long time, you leave a lot of things behind, and it¡¯s important to remember them so you don¡¯t lose what was left¡±. Neia finished her explanation and I could feel an air of sadness settle in for a moment, she¡¯d clearly pondering something important. I didn¡¯t dare interrupt her, so I just cast my eyes down to the list of classes and began to read them.
Classes: Elven Child lvl 5
Elven Student lvl 10
Apprentice Scribe lvl 25
Apprentice Enchantress lvl 50
Memory weaver lvl 75
Keeper of Memories lvl 125
Retired Immortal lvl 36
Immediately my mind began to race and crunch the numbers. Carry the 2. Add the 5. Holy Cow! She¡¯s level 326! It took me nearly 40 years in an advanced era of knowledge to reach the lvl 75 class cap. I had died with total level in the low 200¡¯s, and she has passed me by more than fifty percent. Just how old was my mom? ¡°Hey mama?¡± I asked tentatively, glancing her direction out of the side of my eye. I could already feel her ice cold glare boring into my shoulder as the intuition only a mother can hold had read my intentions. ¡°It¡¯s impolite to ask a woman her age Vincent.¡± Neia commanded in a stern and monotone voice. A cold sweat ran down my back. This woman means business! ¡°Yes ma¡¯am¡± I sighed, holding the slate back out towards her. ¡°Can you explain your classes to me now?¡± I begged with my biggest, most adorable puppy-dog eyes. ¡°Of course sugar!¡± Mom perked up as soon as the topic of conversation had changed, and began explaining her classes one by one, stressing the importance that I keep her classes a secret between only the family. If anyone asked, I had no idea. The raw stats she must have made any threats of punishment carry that much more weight, so I agreed wholeheartedly. The first two classes on mother¡¯s list were pretty straight forward. [Elven Child] and [Elven Student] were variations of commonly known classes. Every known race with system access had a variation of the child class, with the only difference in them being the base stats offered. [Elven Student] was an interesting choice though, as most student classes offered very little in stat gain in exchange for having such broad skill lists. ¡°You see Vincent¡± Mother began as she explained the class to me. ¡°Since Elves live for such a long time, there¡¯s actually a period of time after we¡¯ve already stopped growing where the rest of society doesn¡¯t really see us as adults. It can be frustrating for everyone else around you to look exactly the same but only treat you differently because of age. So it¡¯s common for young folk to take on apprenticeships or join a school and spend that time studying alongside peers close in age.¡± It had never really occurred to me how a near limitless lifespan would make even fully grown adults seem like children to the Elves. Theirs was a very reclusive society, so I¡¯d admit Teraq did not have much contact. This planted even more doubts in my mind about how old my mother must¡¯ve been in order to be considered ¡°Adult¡± in Elf society. Not that I would risk voicing such doubts. I valued my continued existence too much. Mother¡¯s list of classes got significantly more interesting after that though. Each time she described a class on her list and why she chose it, it felt like I was getting to know her a little bit better. It was nice, I knew she¡¯s my mother, but we hadn¡¯t ever felt especially close beyond just that initial familial bond. I knew next to nothing about my extended family, my parent¡¯s interests, or what they liked to do when they were younger. My definitions of Neia and Daniel were clearly ¡°Mom and Dad¡±, and I would like to change that. They¡¯ve given me everything they could manage and helped with everything I¡¯ve asked, it¡¯s the least I could do to try and know them a little better. The next two classes on Mother¡¯s list were straight forward enough, even in my current life I had a basis for understanding the [Apprentice] class variants. The general theme was that each one focused on studying a particular job under the guidance of an expert. Mother had [Apprentice Scribe] and [Apprentice Enchantress] which would focus on the skills of scribing papers and enchanting items respectively, while Leigh from the village likely would take [Apprentice Smith] at some point. ¡°Mom? Why do you have two apprentice classes if you never took the big class they were studying from?¡± I asked Neia. Unfortunately, I wasn¡¯t familiar enough with Elf culture to know if I was missing any cultural cues, but it seemed a bit out of the ordinary to me. ¡°Well, there are [Scribe] and [Enchanter] skills that are either fundamentally necessary or very helpful to my next class, [Memory Weaver] and if I had waited to level up a full scribe class or a full enchantment class it would have delayed my goal by potentially a few hundred levels.¡± Mom explained very carefully. I didn¡¯t know what skills she was talking about since I was completely unfamiliar with [Memory Weaver] as a class. I suspected it might be an Elf exclusive class. She made a good point though. Even with a nearly endless lifespan, a few decades worth of leveling just to get to your starting line sounded torturous. I wasn¡¯t going to think about that too much. I might jinx it. ¡°What does the [Memory Weaver] class do mama?¡± ¡°Well Honey, [Memory Weaver] and the class after it [Keeper of Memories] are used by elves to make magical copies of very precious memories so our people can relive them later. They let me see people¡¯s memories and help make them more clear as well as preserve them for later¡± She explained so softly, yet it still caused my blood to run cold. Had she seen? Did she know? No. No. Breathe deep and calm down. There¡¯s no need to panic. Even assuming she did know, if Neia was going to do something about it she would have done so already. Though there was a chance she has no idea. I had to ask. ¡°So, Uhm, Mom?¡± I stammered nervously. ¡°You can see other people¡¯s memories?¡± Chapter 7 ¡°So, Uhm, Mom?¡± I stammered nervously. ¡°You can see other people¡¯s memories?¡± I felt my heart jump into my throat at the mere Idea. As if sensing my nervousness, mom sighed softly. She reached out a hand and rested it on the top of my head, looking down at me. ¡°I can.¡± She stated in a matter-of-fact tone, leaving no questions in my mind. ¡°And I want you to think about something for me sugarplum. Do you think there¡¯s anything I could see that would change anything?¡± She continued speaking as tears welled up in my eyes. ¡°I¡¯d still be your mother, and you¡¯d still be here, my boy. The way I see it, having a hard life just means you need a second chance.¡± Mom confirmed my suspicions out loud and I collapsed into tears. Yes, I wept. The sudden relief of the moment, and the stress of two life times suddenly got the better of me. To be accepted and comforted in that instant is more than I could handle. At that moment though something dawned on me that I hadn¡¯t fully considered before. I did actually care for these people. Even in my previous life I had cared for people. It wasn¡¯t that I disliked socializing with others, or even that I disliked other people. As loathe as I was to admit it, I had loved Vincent like a brother. Vincent Gildea, not New-Vincent that¡¯s part of me. The years we spent journeying together had been a chore at first, but he was my closest friend. I was afraid of getting hurt. Neia and Daniel were my parents now, and they had spent years helping me, taking care of me, and giving me unconditional love. I had been so afraid of them rejecting me if they found out, and once Neia. No, Once Mother, let me know that it was okay I couldn¡¯t hold myself back anymore. In my distraught state, mom got up from her seat at the table and moved over to wrap me in a comforting hug. The only thing in the world that could help in that moment. ¡°It¡¯s okay, I promise, It¡¯s okay¡± She kept reassuring me as I gradually calmed myself down. ¡°Do we need to talk about it?¡± I asked sheepishly, only getting my own question thrown back at me in response. ¡°Do you think we need to talk about it?¡± and a raised eyebrow let me know it was entirely up to me. ¡°You don¡¯t hate me?¡± was my only follow-up. ¡°Of course not dear. I¡¯ve lived with you for ten years and if I hated you, you¡¯d know by now.¡± Mom asserted. ¡°I saw plenty of pain in your past, and many hard decisions, some that I disagree with. However, you¡¯re your own person and as your mother, it¡¯s my job to make sure you do as best you can this time around.¡± I had joked in the past that Neia was a divine saint, today though, I felt it truly. Decades of struggling to survive, loss, and betrayal had all hardened around me like a ward spell. I hadn¡¯t stopped to consider what damage I was doing to myself by trying to avoid getting hurt in the first place. Letting go felt good, it was freeing. So many people had called me evil that after a certain point I started to believe it. I¡¯m not evil though, I did what I needed to do. That¡¯s all I¡¯m ever going to do. Hard choices require hard spirits and so forth. Those difficult decisions didn¡¯t mean I had no room for love though. I think I was finally starting to understand that. ¡°I know that¡¯s a lot to take in all at once hun, so why don¡¯t you go play outside until your dad gets home? I¡¯m sure you¡¯d like the privacy right now¡± Mom interrupted my thoughts with a soft word, pulling back from the embrace and letting me sit on my own. As good as that sounded though, a fire burned in my chest, a flame of curiosity. I could gather what the [Keeper of Memories] class did based on mom¡¯s description of [Memory Weaver] but I wanted desperately to know more about her final class. [Retired Immortal]. So I asked. ¡°I¡¯ll do that, but what¡¯s your last class about before I go?¡± The tone of my words made it clear that it was a request she could say no to. ¡°Oh, that?¡± Mom giggled, waving a hand dismissively in my way. ¡°It¡¯s a jack-of-all-trades class for Elves. It has low stats but allows me to pick up and level skills much faster¡± She explained, pausing for a moment as if recalling something. ¡°I got that class shortly after I married your father, and right now it has most of my household skills like cooking and mending in it.¡± was her final thought on the subject. With my curiosity sated, I got up and began to move outside, pausing in the doorway when I remembered my manners. ¡°Hey mom? Uh, Thanks?¡± I stammered awkwardly, waiting to leave until she gave me a polite smile and nod. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Gods above that was a stressful conversation. When I turned away again, I heard mom call out one last time. ¡°Oh, and Andras? I left my homeland because Elves wouldn¡¯t stop living in the past. I want you to try and focus on the future my dear.¡± I couldn¡¯t look back at her without crying again, so I kept walking until I made it outside. When I arrived out into our garden I immediately sank to a favorite seat of mine against the wall of the house. From here I could look out the gate and see a few of the other village houses, and all of the hearth smoke rising up in the distance. I let a few deep breaths roll through me, hearing my old name had more of an effect than I expected. For a few moments, I just basked in the peace of it all, allowing it to sink in. That got boring after a half hour or so. Realistically, I had a few hours before dad got home since he usually followed the sunset. Mom suggested I calm down, and one thing that remained constant across both my lives, magic calms me. I alternated between focusing my eyes on my hands trying to activate [Mana Sight] and forcing it to pool in my fingers with [Mana Forming]. Of course, being locked of the system meant I had no actual way of leveling the skills up. The parental override gave me skills, but it didn¡¯t unlock the system for them. As such, I could activate my limited magical capacity at the level 1 equivalent and accrue a sort of xp buffer. At the rate I¡¯d been going, and with the buffs from my class skills, I would have more than enough saved up to max out the skills by the time the system unlocked. If I was lucky that xp would carry them to at least the level 10 cap, if not further. I fully expected any saved class xp to run out before the level 25 class cap. That would be above what was expected for someone of my age. Eventually, I ran out of mana in my pool, and had to switch to [Mana Command]. My regeneration rate was pretty prodigious thanks in part to my boosted mental stats. However, the mental fatigue from using external magic did not recover nearly as quickly as the points themselves. That same fatigue was perhaps the only reason most spell casters prioritize the Vitality stat as high as they do. The fatigue would catch up with me eventually though, and before I even noticed I had dozed off in my spot against the house. I don¡¯t know how long I was out, but when my eyes blinked open sometime later, the sun was slowly setting. The fires in the village had been stoked, and several more plumes of smoke were billowing up. No, that smoke¡¯s too black. Too much ash. A cry cut my thoughts, distant and quiet, I couldn¡¯t quite make it out. It repeated again, this time I heard it. Father¡¯s voice. ¡°Vincent! Get in the house right now! Run!¡± He was screaming. I bolted to my feet and just barely caught a glimpse of him in the distance, running towards the village, having already passed our house. His spear was clutched in his hand as he ran, the end glistening crimson. The order was punctuated by a roar overhead, and a jet of flame following my father from the sky. A shadow passed over, large and winged, but with only one set of legs. A drake. Panic coursed through my body as I scrambled into the house calling out for mom ¡°Mom! Mom where are you?¡±. Drake¡¯s are class B monsters. In a swarm of three or more each individual is considered class A. This was bad. ¡°Mom?!¡± No answer. My blood ran cold. If she wasn¡¯t in the house there was only one other place she could be. I felt my feet starting to run before I even made the decision to look for her. I tackled through our flimsy garden gate, the latch thankfully breaking with just a bruise to my shoulder. I felt detached from the world as I ran, heat building in my face, but calm in my mind. Like I was watching someone else run. Was this what fear felt like? Another drake flew overhead with a roar, toasting a field of sheep in the swoop. Two drakes. Maybe more. Possible mating pair? If they¡¯ve been pushed out of their territory and found the village, what could possibly have scared them off? I knew the answer but I didn¡¯t want to consider it. Drakes would run from most Class A monsters, but only one creature was in actual contention for their hunting grounds. The only beasts that ever made Andras Grigori feel fear in his first life. Dragons. That was a concern for a different day. A different time hopefully. My mind was snapped back to the present as I reached the edge of the village. Dozens of villagers were fleeing in panic, some were hiding under wagons or behind corners, and more still lay burnt in the streets. The smell hit me first. By gods the smell! Then the sound of screaming overcame my adrenaline rush. Mass panic. I stood stark still, racing with thoughts on what to do next and panicking each time I thought one would fail. Mother¡¯s voice cut me out of my stupor. ¡°Vincent! - Vincent! - ANDRAS!!¡± her use of my old name carried more weight, I looked up to see her beckoning me towards the blacksmith¡¯s forge, Leigh¡¯s father behind her. Good, the forge building was mostly stone, less likely to burn. A dreadful roar, half burbled by steam, drew my attention from behind. I glanced back, not stopping, just in time to see my father, Daniel. He was ten feet off the ground, his spear thrust through the neck of the largest drake, a fountain of fire, blood, and steam spewing from its maw. The beast struggled to angle its neck to snap at him, even as its wings began to falter. Both fighters crashed to the ground in a cloud of dust and smoke. I felt hands grab me from the other side as I collided headfirst into mother in my blind run. I¡¯d reached the forge, good. Something wasn¡¯t right though. I¡¯d felt it since she called out to me, but the thought was slow, everything was slow. It hit like a meteor. Where was Leigh? Chapter 8 ¡°Where was Leigh?¡± the question repeated through my mind and echoed between each pounding heartbeat. Father had just crashed into the dust of the street, I turned around just in time to see him standing up, his silhouette dark among the cloud. Thankfully, his enemy wasn¡¯t so lucky, lying dead at his feet. There was a sickening squelch when he wrenched his spear free from the drake¡¯s neck. ¡®Good riddance¡¯ I don¡¯t think I was the only one who heard it either, the other drake swept low overhead with a cry almost as much anguish as fury. It was baring down quickly on Father¡¯s position, no sign of stopping or slowing down. My ears were ringing, it felt like my vision narrowed and the world seemed to vibrate. I don¡¯t know how I slipped out of Mother¡¯s arms, but by the time I¡¯d realized I was already running. I thought I saw something in the shadows next to dad, I needed to know it wasn¡¯t true. It was the fire, it had to be, it couldn¡¯t be those flame-red locks. I needed it to be fire. My eyes met Leigh right as the drake bellowed another roar. My hopes shattered. The monster would plow through the house she was hiding beside on its way to fight Daniel, there was no doubt, it was halfway there already. Leigh would be lucky to survive at all, doing so without being injured was impossible. A buzzing sound filled my ears, the last thought I remember was ¡®How dare they break my village.¡¯ Everything after that was a haze, and it remains that way still. My hands reached out on their own, drawing every ounce of mana that I could manage, both internally and externally. I felt it crackle along my fingers, and bits of my hands charred up and flaked away. Mana channels burning their way out. ¡®Leigh is my friend, no one else gets to hurt her¡¯, the implications in those words were lost in my stupor. Father must have been yelling at me, I could see him running towards me in the distance, but everything was quiet. Silent almost. Like I was listening to the world through a heavy curtain. All I could see was Leigh cowering in the shadows, the drake rushing forward, and the spellform in my hands. That was all I needed to see. Daniel was on top of me in a moment, crossing the town square in an instant. I¡¯m not sure what spell I cast, given my mana pool at the time it couldn¡¯t have been particularly large. When the form was complete I hurled it forward with everything I had, watching with baited breath as it sailed towards the drake. The beast was fast, but my spell was faster, Like emerald lightning. A sickly green bolt of condensed energy punched a hole right through its wing, sending my foe spinning wildly off course. My hearing rushed back to me the next time it roared, and I felt the world shake as the building directly to my left collapsed in a pile of rubble. I think it was the grain storehouse. The rubble shifted slowly, almost settling, but as the dust cleared a creature nearly as large as the structure itself was gradually lifting up from among the debris. For a moment that felt like forever I was face to face with the drake. It hadn¡¯t even exhaled and I was already feeling warm. No, that heat is inside of me. Shit. I overdrew my mana, fever was a symptom of mana-snap. I tried to run but my legs felt like stone, the exertion must have been worse than I thought. I seemed to come to the realization at the same time my enemy did. I had nothing. I couldn¡¯t run, I couldn¡¯t cast another spell. I was going to die here. A flood of emotion followed, fury, regret, and even more that I¡¯m not sure I completely understood. In that prolonged standoff, bricks and timbers tumbling off the monster as it stood, I had a realization. This is how I died the first time. It was almost ironic in a way. I used magic to protect people in my first life, and when it wasn¡¯t convenient to ignore my methods they planned to have me killed. At least dying in battle I¡¯d be remembered as a hero this time. The drake shook its head free and roared, the fever caught up with me and as a paragon of bravery, I fainted. As my vision faded I saw the creature whipping its muscular tail directly for me, and a blur from the side of my vision racing forward. Then just black. I was out for a long time, but I don¡¯t think I was dead. It wasn¡¯t entirely unconscious, but I certainly wasn¡¯t awake either. At times I felt like I was floating around in a bottomless lake, no idea which way was up. Other times I¡¯d catch a glimpse here and there, a distant voice, a hand against mine. Never quite enough to know what was happening around me, but just enough to convince me I was safe, alive, and looked after. That was a weight off my mind, enough to relax at least. I don¡¯t think I came up many times after that. If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. When I finally woke up, the distant sound of whispered conversation pulled me slowly to consciousness. Voices I couldn¡¯t quite make out, but it felt as if they were talking about me. ¡°No, this one is one of mine. I¡¯ll speak to him when the time comes¡±
Error. Internal overflow detected. Ambient levels have exceeded operational maximum. Increasing Internal buffer. Error. Internal buffer locked. Permission level insufficient. Increasing permission level. Error. External override required to increase permission level. Increasing system efficiency. System efficiency successfully increased. Congratulations! [Mana Forming] Has leveled up! Lvl 1 -> Lvl 5 [Mana Sight] Has leveled up! Lvl 1 -> Lvl 5 [Mana Control] Has leveled up! Lvl 1 -> Lvl 5 Ambient levels have returned to operational limits.
The system was ringing notifications in my ears as I blinked away the fog in my head. I didn¡¯t catch them in time, but it shouldn¡¯t be possible for me to get system notifications anyway. Likely just warnings of mana overdraw. The light streaming in to our little cottage was blinding at first, but I knew I was in my bed. The straw mattress poking sharply into my back, little specks of dust from our dirt floor floating in the sun beams. I tried to sit up but found my hands wrapped in bandages, putting pressure on them sent stabs of pain up my body. My wincing must have been louder than I thought, I looked down just in time to see Leigh bolt awake. She had fallen asleep in a stool near the foot of the small cot, no idea how long she¡¯d been there. No one else was in the room though, so where could those misty words have come from? ¡°Hey Lei-¡± I started to speak, just for her to run out of the room shouting at the top of her lungs. ¡°Ms. Stesk! Ms. Stesk! Vincent¡¯s awake!¡± I sighed and fell back onto the cot. They¡¯d both be coming to see me now. I just had to prepare for the storm that was coming. ¡°WHAT IN THE NAME OF ALL SENSE DID YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING?¡± There it is. ¡°Vincent! I have been worried sick!¡± Mother stormed into the room like a hurricane, tears already rolling down her cheeks. ¡°You could have died young man! You¡¯re ten years old and you think you can fight a drake a hundred times your size?¡± She continued her tirade as she crossed the room over to me, her steps eating the distance in seconds. ¡°Mom I-¡± My protest was cut short when she nearly tackled me into a hug. ¡°I thought we lost you. I don¡¯t want to lose anyone else¡± her voice was soft and broken, the pain evident when I felt tears hit my back. ¡°I¡¯m sorry mom.¡± was all I could say. No excuses. No mention of saving Leigh, no promise not to do it again. I know what I did was reckless, but I still think it was right. ¡°You¡¯ve been asleep for the better part of three days¡± She explained, pulling away from our embrace only after I had winced in pain. Every muscle in my body was sore. ¡°Leigh¡¯s been helping me keep an eye on you and dress your wounds.¡± Mom motioned to the door, and Leigh stepped into the room with a small parcel in her hands. ¡°I told everyone how you tried to save me.¡± Leigh spoke up softly, her eyes cast to the ground. ¡°I told your mom you only tried to help because I was stuck. I hope you feel better¡± She thrust the small parchment wrapped package into my lap and turned to leave without another word. ¡°Your hands are still healing, but we should be able to take the bandages off¡± Mom offered after a brief moment of silent confusion. She tenderly helped me remove the dressings and I quickly saw the source of my pain. Both hands were covered in scars, some more healed than others, but my muscles were tight and rebuilding, mana damage evident in the tender skin. With slow and deliberate movements I opened up the gift Leigh had left for me. A smooth polished metal bracelet, bent and hammered perfectly. Small enough to stay on my hand, and with enough overlap to expand it later. The other half of her horseshoe project. I didn¡¯t hold back the tears as I smiled and slipped it on. ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯re hungry¡± Mom stated in a matter of fact tone, getting up from my bedside and making her way to the door. ¡°I¡¯ll make you something to eat, just wait here. Your father will be home soon.¡± I detected a hint of worry in her voice, and it made anxiety well up in my chest. For now, at least I knew dad was alive too. Chapter 9 After a few minutes of sitting comfortably in the silence, mom came back in and handed me a small bowl of roasted potatoes. The nectar of the gods. The smell alone sent a shiver through my body, and a hungry growl erupted from my stomach. I felt fine so far, but once presented with food my hunger began to protest the three days of famine. I will not deny them any further, the bowl was clean before mom even cleared the room. ¡°Hey mom?¡± I called out for her attention, receiving naught but a hand wave in return. ¡°I¡¯ll be back with more in a second¡± She sighed, clearly two steps ahead of me. Content and cared for, I fell back against the bed and let the pain of my scars throb through my bones for the first time. Acknowledging them nearly brought tears to my eyes, I caught a scream in my throat before I could disturb mother in the kitchen. Apparently I¡¯d gone further overboard than I thought. A mana bolt of that size realistically should have killed me, the overdraw pains were a small price to pay for living through it. There was a sudden commotion in the front of the house. I could hear dad¡¯s voice echoing in the old timbers. ¡°Where is he?¡± He asked my mother, no doubt getting directions I couldn¡¯t hear. His pounding footsteps drew closer, each deep thud putting more dread in my heart. Daniel was not an angry man, I could only recall a handful of times he¡¯d ever shouted in front of me. However, what I¡¯d done was undoubtedly stupid. I could have gotten us all killed instead of saving anyone. I believe what I did to be right, and I¡¯m relieved Leigh is still alive. He burst into the room and my heart sank. His eyes were not full of anger, but he only had one left. His right eye now replaced with a long scar across his face. ¡°Dad I¡¯m-¡± I choked on my words, interrupted as he tackled me into a hug. ¡°Thank the gods you¡¯re okay!¡± Was dad crying? I¡¯ll admit I was confused, expecting some kind of fall out. ¡°You¡¯re not mad?¡± I asked softly, my shoulders screaming in pain as he embraced me. They could stay quiet for now. Though truthfully, Daniel shouldn¡¯t be angry even if I expected him to be. I saved Leigh by providing that distraction. ¡°Mad? I¡¯m furious! You could have gotten yourself killed running into combat unprepared like that¡± Dad explained, slowly pulling back away from me and sitting on the edge of my cot, a very serious expression suddenly overtaking his remaining eye. ¡°But I want to be incredibly clear about something. My happiness at the fact that you¡¯re okay, far outweighs anything else. I heard about what happened from Leigh, I didn¡¯t even see her hiding spot and you saved her.¡± Daniel began to explain himself. Unable to contain myself, I interjected. I had a thousand things I wanted to say, and for a moment I had to choke back the urge to double down and gloat. ¡®I saved her when you didn¡¯t¡¯ that urge felt wrong. ¡°But you lost-¡± Daniel struck me for the first time in my life, a quick and admittedly light smack across my face. It barely stung, but more importantly the shock brought me back to center. Righteous Indignation simmered up, but I quickly choked those feelings back down. ¡°Don¡¯t you ever say that to me again.¡± Dad instructed me with a forceful and unrelenting tone. ¡°I gave my eye to make sure you were safe, I didn¡¯t lose anything. I¡¯d give both of them in a heartbeat if it meant protecting you or your mother. Do I make myself clear?¡± His hand patted the top of my head, and I could only nod in acknowledgment, not wanting to anger the sleeping giant any further. Daniel and I weren¡¯t particularly close. I¡¯d studied with mom, and helped out around the house, she and I were undoubtedly a much stronger relationship. With dad on patrol or out hunting as much as he was, I hadn¡¯t really forged that same kind of bond. Hearing his unwavering resolve to be there for me was the final straw. I broke down crying. The tears felt like someone else¡¯s though, warm and wet down my face but distant. Like I was caught in a summer rain. ¡°Daniel? What did you do?¡± Mom came rushing in, immediately blaming dad for my state without even a moment to ask questions. When I calmed down enough to avert her ire, they both sat with me for the rest of the night. We had dinner together, and they held me, assuring me everything was okay. I felt safe, and loved. I hadn¡¯t considered such a thing important before, but experiencing it first hand is refreshing. I don¡¯t know when I fell asleep, but I made up my mind that night to make sure I was never a liability for the people I cared about. From now on I plan to study magic just as before, but I will not neglect training my practical skills. I¡¯m going to join the Militia with dad if that¡¯s what it takes. No one else is going to get hurt trying to protect me, and no one else is going to break my things or hurt my people. I also slowly learned more about the impact of the attack. Nine people died that day, including Leigh¡¯s mother. She hadn¡¯t said a thing to me about it, and it wasn¡¯t my business to press into her grief. However, mother and I talked about it for a moment and we both agreed she has a standing invitation to join us for any meals she would like to. Apparently, her father was not handling his grief well. The next several days of my life were spent focused on the immediate issue, specifically the healing of my hands. The mana overdraw burns made it difficult to use my hands for some things, and nearly impossible for others. Simple daily tasks like washing up or eating had become excruciating reminders of my limited capacity. Each stab of pain became an ember to stoke the fire of my grim determination. Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. With meticulous planning I had formulated a plan to build those embers into a roaring blaze. Step 1, learn to fight in my new body. Step 2, fight things so other people don¡¯t have to. Step 3, there is no step 3. The genius of this plan was in its simplicity. If I could grow my own power to the point of self sufficiency, the people I relied on now would no longer be in danger. I could protect mother and father as they have protected me. They¡¯ve earned that much. I hoped to find some penance in this, for it would be decades before I could afford the rituals needed to replace Daniel¡¯s eye. To that end, I wanted to learn about Dad¡¯s classes. It felt inappropriate when we were both still grappling with injuries, but after a few weeks of healing and returning to our normal routine I did finally ask. ¡°Hey dad? Can you tell me a little bit more about your classes? Mom explained hers to me already, and if I want to be prepared for my system unlock I think it might help..¡± I asked sheepishly. Daniel did not respond, instead I felt the parental override take hold as he glanced through my own status. ¡°With your stat layout and the skills you already have my class layout is useless to you.¡± Daniel explained, a tone of regret in his voice. ¡°You¡¯re far better served with magic classes, but I¡¯ll explain them to you anyway¡± and seemingly without being prompted, mother got up from her seat at the table and went to fetch the slate and chalk. That seemed odd at first, but then I was struck with a sudden epiphany. Mother was the one who taught me how to read and write. She was always the one writing things down for me to practice with. I had never once seen my father participate. We live in a rural village, and educational standards were lacking even in my time. All the pieces are there, Daniel might actually be illiterate. I knew the system could present differently to other people, but it never occurred to me that literacy wasn¡¯t a requirement. The naivety of a sheltered life I suppose. When mother returned with the slate, Daniel shared some brief whispered words with her before she began to write out his classes for me to read. Human Child lvl 5 Rambunctious Child lvl 10 Apprentice Guard lvl 25 Junior Mercenary lvl 50 Army of One lvl 75 One Man Militia lvl 96 While it¡¯s worth noting that dad¡¯s levels are much lower than Neia¡¯s, both my parents have shown prodigious leveling for their apparent age. It makes me wonder if the higher mana density has affected xp generation rates somehow? I digress again though, his class list was impressive, but not entirely out of the ordinary. I could draw some pretty solid assumptions on what the first few classes do. [Human Child] was a variant of the child class, and thus has a wide skill list, being human specific it would have a balanced stat spread. [Rambunctious Child] was similar, though the tone of its name suggests a physical stamina based class with a more narrow skill list. Taking a level 10 child class is not uncommon for people looking to jumpstart their level 25 class at a higher point. This particular version might provide stamina and endurance boosts for the rest of dad¡¯s physical classes. [Apprentice Guard] was exactly like it sounded. Increased leveling while studying under a more senior member of the guard, with similar stat spread but a wider skill list. After this one though dad¡¯s list took a sharp turn. ¡°So, uh, dad? Your first three classes don¡¯t really make a ton of sense with the other three. I think I might be missing something¡­¡± I spoke up as I glanced over those final few classes. Daniel sighed and turned to look at me directly, ¡°You¡¯re right Vincent, they don¡¯t. There¡¯s nothing to miss because there¡¯s nothing there.¡± He explained curtly, allowing a deep pause to settle in before he realized I wasn¡¯t going to leave it at that. ¡°Okay¡± Dad sighed, leaning back in his chair and picking me up out of mine to sit with him. He placed me on his knee and continued his explanation, constantly glancing towards mom as if checking his words for approval. ¡°You see I never knew my own parents, I grew up in a church near the merchant coast to the south. Lots of trade moving through all the time, lots of sailors, lots of bastard children¡­¡± He trailed off. I was suddenly struck by just how similar Daniel and I were in a lot of ways. I was unfortunate enough to know my own parents in my first life and I was worse off for it. The routine abandonment as they disappeared for weeks, only to come crawling back penniless and smelling of booze wasn¡¯t as bad as some of the things they said to me. Some of the things they did. Even now, though, those memories are hazy. Every time I thought back to the early days of my life as Andras Gregori, a fog rolled through my head. That¡¯s in the past now. Or the future-past? It¡¯s over, I dealt with them and I don¡¯t have to worry about it anymore. I have good parents now. Daniel continued to explain his own past to me though, occasionally jumping over the more inappropriate parts for a child. ¡°I didn¡¯t want to end up out on my own once the system unlocked, at least not fully. So I spoke with the priest at the church and he agreed to let me stay until I got my third class or a class I could make money with, whichever happened first.¡± There was another long pause as he clearly relived difficult memories. ¡°I joined the guard to have a place to stay and food to eat, there was nothing else to it. I was a guard for less than a year before a merchant company offered me a position on one of their inland caravans. They wanted to cross from the coast going east. The entire western wilds crossed on foot to the trading cities inland. I knew it was dangerous and I agreed anyway.¡± Dad was suddenly cut off when mother cleared her throat and shot him a look. Now I may not be the brightest when it comes to social cues, but I¡¯m fairly familiar with mom¡¯s ¡®tread carefully¡¯ stare by now. This was a grim story I¡¯m guessing. ¡°To put it simply¡± Dad chimed back up after a moment. ¡°The caravan didn¡¯t take a very safe route, and lots of people got hurt and a lot of people died. We were stranded in the wilds for nearly two years, hunting and being hunted.¡± his last sentence had a chill beneath his words. ¡°We inadvertently crossed a dragon¡¯s territory and were nearly wiped out in the first week. Every week after that, like some kind of sick game, it would attack and pick one or two people. Pretty soon we got good at running and hiding, or fighting back when we could. The weekly sightings became every two weeks, and then every month.¡± A shadow passed over Daniel¡¯s face, I could tell he was grappling with a wound that still hurt him, and I didn¡¯t want to press for more answers. He can speak when he is ready. ¡°We did injure it a couple of times, but eventually I was the only one left. That¡¯s how I got the [Army of One] class, and I evolved [One Man Militia] after I moved to this village. At the time though I didn¡¯t think I was going to make it out, that¡¯s why I decided to pick such a drastic class. Either I would make it out of there, or the dragon would, and either way she was going to pay for it.¡± Dad said with a quiet tone of finality, putting a clear end to the story. The fact that he was sitting here now, telling the story, made it clear who paid the most. Daniels Interlude part 1 Daniel Stesk had only been a mercenary for a few years. His pay was decent, the job was exciting, and the levels were fair. It was a cushy gig for any [Junior Mercenary], so there shouldn¡¯t have been any reason to complain. Right? Wrong. Daniel was sprinting through thorn stinging underbrush cursing his new job in the name of every god he could remember. He¡¯d already run out of the war gods and moved on to gods of harvest and rainfall. Eventually his backwoods education would run out before his anger did. Maybe at that point he¡¯d start cursing the gods themselves too. The gods could get bent for all he cared. Daniel had a stitch in his side and blood covering every inch of exposed skin. The blood wasn¡¯t his, the pain very much was. It was difficult to focus with the rush of fear in his body, fight or flight his "dad" at the orphanage used to call it. Daniel considered praying for the power to fly. His company was gone. Sure, some of the other mercs were running alongside him through the dust and smoke, but their largest customer in the two years of Daniel¡¯s contract had been eaten right in front of him. Yes, eaten. The caravan was heading east from the western coast, the wilds were the only things standing between them and a small fortune in spice profits. Oh, and the dragon. The caravan lead hadn¡¯t bothered to do any scouting of their route, or even pay for a guide through the wilds. They just hired a bunch of mercs and called it a day. So from the dragon¡¯s point of view, a small parade of armed humans with donkey driven wagons just came a traipsing through their territory on a silver platter. Too good to miss. The first attack had been weeks ago already, but Daniel could remember it like it was yesterday, those memories would likely haunt him for decades to come. Assuming he made it out alive. It had started with a rumble like distant thunder. A low, echoing sound that resonated in his bones the longer he heard it. Daniel was in the middle of the caravan with the other junior mercs, the veterans split between the front and back. Some of them must have recognized the sound, or recognized danger, because the call to form up rung out only a few seconds after the thunder stopped. They would not get a chance to fall into formation. Wind kicked up arround the caravan as if a hurricane descended around them. The currents whistled in Daniel¡¯s ears and stung at his cheeks. He had to close his eyes just to avoid all the dust, driving the butt of his spear into the ground to anchor himself. It barely worked, the only thing keeping him upright was his boosted strength stat. A few of the younger mercs near him were bowled over into the dust. Just as quickly as it starterd, the wind died out. There was half a second of calm eerie silence, not hardly enough time for Daniel to even realize what happened and open his eyes. Then the ground shook. Dust and rock fragments stung against his face, kicked up by the sudden seismic activity. Slowly, with fear building in his heart, Daniel opened his eyes. Instantly, his blood ran cold. A beast bigger than his company headquarters had just dropped from the sky, descending on the caravan and sizing them up with a cruel glint behind its reptilian eyes. It raised itself onto the hind legs, wings stretched wide, and stood taller than a three story building. Those gleaming eyes betrayed the creature¡¯s intelligence long before it spoke. The voice smooth and decadent, flowing like liquid gold. ¡°What brings you tiny apes through my terri-¡± the dragon began speaking only to be interrupted by the lead merchant. A mistake on his part. ¡°Oh great dragon!¡± were the only words the portly man had a chance to call out before being scooped up in a single claw and swallowed whole. Not so much as a bite from the razor sharp teeth. The creature was just too big, a single tooth was nearly the size of Daniel¡¯s spear. ¡°I wasn¡¯t finished speaking. Does anyone else want to interrupt?¡± The dragon asked rhetorrically, thankfully there was only silence in response. ¡°Good.¡± The creature smiled. Smiled. Long snout glittering in the sunlight. Those deep red scales seemed reminiscent of rubies, or crimson blood. Beautiful yet terrifying. ¡°You humans have tresspassed on my personal territory, and by sacred tradition of the dragons I am within my rights to kill you all.¡± The great red wyrm began to explain. ¡°However, I am a sporting individual. I will allow you all the chance to flee, hide, or fight back. Whichever you prefer. If you attempt to leave my territory, you will be killed. If you fight back and lose, you will be killed. If you hide and I get bored, you will be killed.¡± Daniel¡¯s heart pounded in his chest, the wanton cruelty and cold calculation from the enemy before him sent shivers down his spine. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. Everyone knew the legends, Dragons fought side by side with the gods in ancient times, what hopes did these mercenaries have against a demi-god? ¡°Your only hope is to be cunning and quick. Entertain me and play your cards right, you might live for a few extra days. I think you¡¯ll find this valley to be fertile with life, food shouldn¡¯t be an issue.¡± and with that the dragon spread their wings to the fully massive outstretch. With a single word, they leapt into the air, leaving behind another hurricane in their wake. ¡°Begin¡±. They called out a single word before hell descended. Daniel grabbed his spear and made an immediate sprint away from the caravan. Turning hard right and dashing into the dense forest. A primal fear gripped him the moment the dragon released all the tension, and his instincts were proven correct. A few of the veteran mercenaries immediately drew their weapons, hoping to deal decisive blows once the dragon¡¯s attention faltered. [Spear of Light], [Blade of Wind], and [Reckless Warcry] were activated in dozens of places, interspersed with other attack skills Daniel didn¡¯t recognize. The dragon smirked ¡°A passable starting effort. A shame you¡¯re so foolhardy though¡± and then the beast sighed. Its breath was fire, searing all it touched and pouring through the remains of the caravan. Daniel could feel the heat even as he ran, it only deepened his fear. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw more than half of his company, friends and allies all of them, burnt into blackened carbon. Their weapons and arms melting around them, holding them in place when they tried to flee the conflagration. Less than a hundred mercs survived, all the merchants were dead. They¡¯d barely managed to scratch the dragon. 1 week Over the next week the biggest danger to the remaining fighters was stress. They¡¯d managed to group together and scratch out a little camp, the highest ranking officer having defaulted into command. Though officer was a stretch, he was barely a sergeant, having only been promoted at the start of this contract mind you. The problem was not the dragon, but the lack of a dragon. Since the initial attack, they¡¯d only seen the beast twice, and both times from a distance. It was as if their would-be hunter was watching them, waiting, and toying with their fear. It was infuriating for some, horrifying for others. Daniel didn¡¯t know how to feel about it. He felt constantly on edge, with lightning in his veins, jumping at every sound. He knew what he didn¡¯t want to do though, he didn¡¯t want to give up. Two of the recruits that signed up with him did. They wandered out into the forest around the camp one night and weren¡¯t found until the following morning. By that time the scavengers had already found them and there wasn¡¯t much left to bury. Their armor and weapons were taken as emergency supply and their bodies left where they were. No sense risking a funeral pyre to make them stand out even further. The second biggest hurdle was food. Most other resources were fine, water, usable wood, anything you could wish for. The wilds were untainted by the hands of mortals, it was a veritable paradise. Just not for food. Every fruit, every plant, even the seeds that looked edible were some kind of minor poison. Anything from numbness to stomach cramps, even hallucinations. One of the older mercs suggested higher mana density was soaking into the wildlife, either following the dragon or attracting it here in the first place. Foraging wouldn¡¯t be safe until they acclimated to the mana levels, and the only way to do that was to level up. To hunt beasts in the wilds other than the dragon, and hopefully find some of them to be more edible before they starved. This became the second hurdle to food. It didn¡¯t take long to realize it would take their entire group to hunt even a single monster. The presence of a dragon was well known to be a battle ground for opportunistic creatures of lower order. The first one they encountered was no different. A forty foot long snake with a body thicker than a tree raised up out of the brush, beneath the scaled hood of a cobra sat the face of a human man. The sergeant tried to speak with it, hoping it to be somewhat intelligent like the dragon. It did not return his gesture. Instead, the creature began slinging spells, plunging the entire area into chaos instantly. The first spell seemed to do nothing, but when a corporal drew his sword and slit the sergeants throat from behind, the mage squad began screaming about mind control. From there the battle got more physical. All the physical built mercs rushed in unorganized, command structure collapsing with two of their highest ranked members out of commission. Skills of all sorts were once again fired out before Daniel could register what was happening. A bolt of lightning struck the ground next to him, sending up a shower of dirt. He drew his spear and charged forward, head on a constant swivel to spot the elusive monstrosity. Fire would rage from the treetops, causing Daniel to pivot and run towards it, only to find the spot empty by the time he arrived. Lightning struck from a burrow, frost from a thicket, wherever Daniel wasn¡¯t always seemed to be exactly where his enemy was. He chose to abandon his plan of melee engagement, and fell back to the half circle of tightly grouped spell casters. Without even a need to ask a weapon enchantment was placed on him, the mage giving him one command. ¡°Throw it!¡± Daniel never needed to be told what to do more than once. He hurled the spear in his hand at the next flare of magic he saw, hearing a sharp thud and a low hiss immediately after. He took the first step towards his enemy to retrieve his spear and only stopped when he felt the hand of a mage on his shoulder. ¡°Catch it!¡± the spellcaster called out to him, pointing in the direction of the strike and alerting Daniel to his spear flying directly towards him, albeit in reverse. These strikes would repeat a half dozen more times, each throw landing true. However, Daniel was only able to choose his targets so easily thanks to his comrades chasing the creature relentlessly. Comrades he was quickly running out of. When he saw a wave of decay begin to ripple from a nearby burrow, Daniel activated every skill he had available to him, pulled on every muscle in his body, and prayed. The spear flew through the ground in a straight line, impaling something deep within the rock and eliciting a scream that sounded all too human.
Congratulations! Your party has slain a [Naga Spellsong - Lvl 216] Congratulations! [Junior Mercenary] has leveled up to 32 [Junior Mercenary] has leveled up to 33 ¡­ [Junior Mercenary] has leveled up to 41
Ten levels from a single creature. Seven more mercs dead on the ground. It had been a long week, and they¡¯d only fought the dragon once. 35 mercenaries remain. Daniels Interlude part 2 1 month The rate Daniel''s surviving mercenary group was leveling here in the wilderness was absolutely unbelievable. Daniel used to be lucky to get a single level every couple of weeks, now he was getting anywhere from two levels a week, to two levels a day depending on how active their hunting parties were. It wasn¡¯t free experience though, each time a group ventured into the forest, they came back smaller. Not always the nine-man blood bath they had their first week, but something to remind them that they were not welcome here. The creatures they had to hunt for food would be the target of high ranked extermination quests back home. Here in the western wilds they were the lowest rung of an increasingly brutal food chain. On multiple occasions, hunting parties would break rank and run away from a quarry they faced, convinced they couldn¡¯t defeat it and limped back into camp battered and defeated. This would only make the gap between meals wider, the pains in their stomachs deeper. During one of these more prolonged famines, the mage squad was convinced they could use all of their stealth spells together and successfully escape. Their burnt bodies were dropped into the camp that night, the only explanation a distant wingbeat. Daniel, strangely enough, was thriving. His [Junior Mercenary] class was close to capped, and all of his spear skills were already maxed out at fifty. The young man had a sort of grim determination about him, a refusal to give up. While some of his comrades would wait and rest between hunts, or refuse to leave camp at all, Daniel had been out on every expedition so far. Scratching out levels and experience with the solemn realization that it was his only hope of survival. At the end of 1 month, they¡¯d still only seen the dragon a handful of times, and only fought him that original first night. 23 mercenaries remained. 3 months During the third month, the dragon became a more consistent fixture. During this time was when the mercenaries learned of its ability to shapeshift. A man in glistening plate armor burnished a deep crimson red, walked into their camp, and hurled a tree branch through the chest of a young lance corporal. In truth, the attack could have been worse, that boy was barely hanging on in the first place. The attack was over before anyone had a chance to react, and their assailant simply walked back into the jungle laughing, shrugging off every attack that was thrown their way by scrambling mercs. The message was clear. ¡°You¡¯re never safe, if you rest too deeply, you will die.¡± Daniel took it to heart. He¡¯d already been sleeping with his spear in hand, now he made a point to remove as little armor as possible in the evening. He kept his leathers as well maintained as he could, and only removed them occasionally to wash in a small stream whenever he got too dirty. Never all at once though, only pieces at a time. He would rather it take twice as long to do a simple task than to be caught in a compromised state. The idea had already crystalized in his mind long ago, but when he saw the Lance Corporal die with a look of confusion on his face, Daniel admitted it to himself. ¡°If I¡¯m going to die. It¡¯s going to be on my terms. I won¡¯t let that fucker kill me for free¡± Unfortunately, Daniel¡¯s next chance to ¡°die on his terms¡± would come much sooner than he anticipated. Not even a full week after the first attack from the dragon in human form, a tall, slender woman in formalwear strode into the camp casually. At this point, the few remaining mercenaries were far too wary of falling for such a trick a second time. They were up with weapons in hand within moments. ¡°Relax, please, I¡¯m not here to fight you¡± A melodic voice called out. As Daniel rushed back into the clearing they¡¯d carved their camp from, he got his first unobstructed look at their ¡®visitor¡¯. He knew ¡®she¡¯ was the dragon, but the fierce fire-red hair, slender frame, and tanned skin still tugged a reaction in the back of his mind. She wore a deep ruby evening dress, completely out of place in the midst of a jungle, the fabric of which faded into flickering flames near her ankles. A subtle cloud of steam rose up around her, everywhere the morning dew or jungle mists struck the dragons form the water boiled into vapor instantly. Hot in more ways than one. ¡°I would like to speak with you, with one of you, assuming of course there¡¯s anyone left with enough of a spine to stand up and have a civilized conversation¡± The dragon explained, walking deeper into the camp from the edge of the clearing. The mercenary camp was not an organized endeavor, cook fires, shoddy shelters, and the scraps of a dozen different attempts at survival were littered everywhere. Bones and branches alike snapped beneath the woman¡¯s stride until she found a felled tree to sit on. The wood groaned in protest before the dragon simply started hovering a few inches above it, visibly annoyed by the weakness of the wood. During this display, all the other mercenaries were stunned silent, like prey gazing into the eyes of a lion they were gripped with fear. Not necessarily a fear of the dragon, which wasn¡¯t new, but a fear of the unknown. Every encounter with this creature ended in death, but it was always violent and brutal death. Mercenaries could handle violence and brutality to some degree, a change in tactics brought a change in their scenario, and sadly none of them were prepared for it. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Their command structure was shattered, and the few ranking officers left had given up on any semblance of control in these desperate times. Orders were replaced with tips to survive, rigid ranks by any formation that worked. Desperation had replaced discipline. That same desperation is what drove Daniel forward. He was desperate not to see anyone else die, desperate to make the dragon look him in the eyes if he was going to be killed. His legs were moving before he realized it, drawing looks from all the other mercenaries. Daniel wanted control over something when all else had been taken from him, he could at least choose how to die, right? Unfortunately not. ¡°Good. I like you. Sit.¡± the dragon growled out at soon as Daniel came close, the final word carrying with it a power that rippled through the air. Every assembled fighter immediately dropped to the ground, unable to deny the command. ¡°Very good, now let me explain what brings me here¡± The dragon began to speak to them as if lecturing a classroom full of children. ¡°This one here.¡± She began, gesturing to Daniel. ¡°Gets a free pass for today since he seems to be the only one here with a spine. The rest of you will have to work for it. You¡¯ve been here in my territory for a long while now and I¡¯m starting to get bored¡± The dragon explained with a sigh, even their gentle exhale tangibly hot in the jungle air. A quick headcount showed exactly twenty-two mercenaries in the clearing counting Daniel. Twenty-one had to ¡°work¡± for their pass. ¡°Half of you are going to die. The other half I will leave alone for a time. If you try to leave this camp, I¡¯ll kill you. If you try to kill my new friend¡± the dragon waved a delicate hand in Daniel¡¯s direction, still unable to overcome the magic compelling him to sit- ¡°I¡¯ll kill you too. If there are more than ten of you left alive by sundown, I¡¯ll kill everyone except this one. Do I make myself clear?¡± She asked the assembled fighters, only getting a few muted nods in response. ¡°Do I make myself clear?¡± the dragon repeated, magic once again flowing through their words and compelling the assembled company to vigorously shout ¡°YES!¡± as if responding to a ranked officer. ¡°Very good! You may begin¡± the dragon dismissed her magical hold on them and turned to face Daniel more directly. To his credit, Daniel watched every movement the dragon made with complete focus. Eyes constantly searching for even the smallest slip-up, the tiniest opening. Nothing came. Every motion the dragon made felt deliberate and planned, taunting him with fluid grace and an unconcerned attitude. The dragon did not consider Daniel a threat. Meanwhile, Chaos erupted around them. The assembled crew had initially paused, shocked and in disbelief at the apparent demand that they kill the friends they survived alongside until now. That is, until a particularly defeatist young recruit, barely hanging on as is, saw a chance for his death to buy something for the group and slit his own throat. That opened the floodgates. ¡°Hello there human¡± the dragon seemed to purr, her voice melodic and smooth. Her eyes were sharp as daggers however and undercut any feeling of safety with the clear cunning of a predator. ¡°My name is Dieva, lady of cinders. What do your people call you?¡± She asked, introducing herself casually and ignoring the all-out brawl that was developing around them. ¡°My name is Daniel Stesk.¡± He replied as firmly as he could force himself to, clearing the taste of bile in his mouth by quickly spitting over his shoulder. At the sight of the gesture, the dragon Dieva arched an eyebrow curiously. ¡°Do you find my company distasteful Daniel?¡±. ¡°Not what I was spitting about, but generally, yeah.¡± Daniel grunted in response. ¡°I try to avoid speaking with coldblooded killers if you¡¯d pardon the lizard pun¡± he explained, trying to elicit a rise from Dieva and take his death into his own hands. Unfortunately, she took his comments in stride and just smiled back. ¡°Do you blame a bird for flying over your house Daniel?¡± Dieva asked, abruptly changing the direction of the conversation. A puzzled look must have passed over his face since she raised a hand and continued. ¡°Most creatures wouldn¡¯t blame a bird for flying or a fish for swimming, nor so a predator for hunting a bird or a fish. We don¡¯t ascribe morals to nature because we know there are none.¡± ¡°This is different!¡± Daniel interrupted, standing from his seat in indignation, finally overcoming what lingering magic compelled him to sit. ¡°Thinking, speaking, intelligent creatures are capable of being more than our base urges. Surely just by having this conversation, you can understand that?¡± In his emotional state, surrounded by the clanging of metal and the iron stench of blood, Daniel had forgotten who he was talking to. ¡°Daniel, would you kindly stop breathing?¡± Dieva asked the magic in her words forcing him to obey. His lungs caught in his chest, and his muscles began screaming as his throat closed. Panic quickened the onset of a struggle. ¡°The point I was trying to make¡± the dragon continued ¡°Was that I do not blame you for your nature any more than I consider my own. For you to ascribe evil to what is an instinct core to my being would be like, well, if I blamed you for breathing.¡± She explained, standing off the rock and tossing an absentminded phrase over her shoulder to allow him to breathe once more. ¡°I do what feels natural, as do you. There is no reason for either of us to worry so deeply about it. I look forward to speaking with you again, you¡¯ve been most entertaining.¡± And with the final word she sauntered off, swaying gently among the jungle fronds until out of sight. With his antagonistic company gone, the anger burning in Daniel¡¯s ears quickly faded and he soon realized the camp around him had grown silent. Eleven corpses littered the ground, some dead by their own hands, others by the hand of their former comrades. There would be a lot of digging to do. Once the dead were buried, Daniel wanted to reorganize their company. Killing each other didn¡¯t sit well with him, and they would need to find a way to move past it or start trying to survive on their own. 11 mercenaries remaining Daniels Interlude part 3 3 months In the following weeks after the second raid from Dieva in humanoid form, the mercs had to grapple with the new wrinkle in their reality. Among the dozen or so that remained, many were full of remorse and regret over what they¡¯d been forced to do to survive. Several were simply numb at this point, just as quick to cut down a friend or foe if it meant surviving another day. Daniel couldn¡¯t abide that. ¡°Listen up folks, can we gather round please?¡± He cried out one evening after the day¡¯s hunting party returned. Stood in the center of camp, leaning on his spear, Daniel was easy enough for everyone to spot, and they quickly dropped what they were doing to see what the commotion was about. In the nearly half a year they¡¯d been trapped in this jungle, their make-shift camp of recovered tents and wagons had slowly grown into a small village. The immense stats the mercenaries commanded made up for any lack of applicable skills. Trees could be felled and stacked high in a day, dried, and ready to build a cabin within a week. Judging by the clear difference in quality among some of the buildings though, at least one or two of the mercs had taken a construction skill. If they didn¡¯t have it already. Daniel looked out over their faces when his comrades finally stood in a pitiful semicircle around him. Pale shadows of the men they once were, and a drop in the bucket of their original company. His heart stung for a moment as he remembered the fallen. ¡°We haven¡¯t talked about what happened, and we still need to decide what we¡¯re going to do moving forward. We can¡¯t let something like that happen again.¡± He ground out, his voice low and gruff in his throat. The first man to speak up against daniel was a dwarven heavy fighter, Gordon. Gordon stepped forward, battered shield across his back and blood-stained mace at his side. ¡°So what would you have had us do then, Danny boy? Would you rather us just stand there and let the dragon kill all of us in one swoop?¡± Eliciting murmurs of agreement from a few of the surrounding fighters. Daniel sighed, and turned to address the man. ¡°No Gordon, that¡¯s not what I¡¯m saying. I just think it¡¯d be better to die fighting back against the beast than to wind up killing each other to scratch out a few more days.¡± As Daniel explained himself to the group, a lizardkin woman stepped in to voice her agreement, her name was Akke and she specialized in a pair of twin swords. ¡°Gordon¡¯s reasoning is sound, but none were prepared for the choice today. Next time we will be. Better to die with dignity than to live as cattle.¡± Her sign of support seemed to encourage a few others as well, as multiple voices called out their assent to Daniel¡¯s ideas. ¡°Fuck that!¡± Gordon interjected, cutting the murmurs to a sudden silence. ¡°I don¡¯t plan on dying here. I have a life to get back to, I¡¯ve spent too damn long in this cursed jungle already. I¡¯ll do whatever it takes to make my way home.¡± The dwarven man started to ramble. ¡°We stand a better chance together, aye, but that brawl was the best heap of XP I¡¯ve gotten in a week, We¡¯d have just as much chance killing the dragon if we all lined up neatly like and let one man take the levels. You know it. I know it. The only reason this whole charade hasn¡¯t collapsed into a free for all is that warrior types like to sell themselves on lies of honor.¡± Gordon spat on the ground for emphasis. ¡°Fuck. That. The dead don¡¯t need honor and neither do I.¡± ¡°Gordon-¡± Daniel tried to interject and calm the man down. ¡°Fuck you Danny. You¡¯re the only one that didn¡¯t have to fight for their life that day and you think you can preach to me?¡± As the emotions ran hotter, Gordon was quickly losing the consensus of even the few that initially agreed with him. With a huff, the dwarf turned away from the group and began gathering supplies into his pack, knocking over more than a few tools by the fire as he stormed past. ¡°I¡¯ll make it on my own if I have to, but I won¡¯t be talked down to by a child!¡± He shouted. Daniel grit his teeth and hopped down from the rock he perched on. Leaning on his spear, he steadied his resolve and moved to stand between the food stores and the irate soldier. ¡°Gordon. I can¡¯t let you just walk out with supplies everyone fought and died for. If you want to leave go, but don¡¯t think I¡¯ll let you get away with theft.¡± Daniel growled, his own emotions boiling further and further under the constant disrespect of the brusk senior. This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Without so much as a word of acknowledgment, Gordon railed back and punched Daniel in the stomach. The full force of his combat classes and stats did more than a little damage and sent Daniel tumbling backward. ¡°Get out of the fuckin way. Danny boy.¡± ¡°No.¡± Daniel spat, the iron taste of blood filling his mouth as he stood to his feet. His stance widened, and he pulled his spear up into position and leveled it at Gordon. Daniel was clearly ready for a fight and the other mercenaries knew better than to get in the way of two dueling egos. ¡°Fine then. This is how you want to play it? I¡¯m as ready to toss as the next bloke, just don¡¯t say I didn¡¯t try and be nice¡± Gordon hissed, drawing his mace and pulling the shield off his back. Both fighters took stances some ten feet apart. Eternity hung between them, neither wanting to make the first move as they watched their opponent. Then suddenly, as if some silent signal had been given, both men took off like cannon shots. Gordon outclassed Daniel in strength and endurance as a tank-focused fighter, but that meant a more versatile build like Daniel¡¯s would never lose to him in speed or agility. They struck at the same time, just past the midpoint of their initial standoff. Daniel covered more ground than Gordon. The two clashed like rolling thunder. Gordon swung his mace directly towards Daniel¡¯s chest, a killing blow with the strength he would wield. Fortunately, Daniel had more than enough speed to divert the swing along the haft of his spear, though his own attack was thrown off course and scraped along the metal of his opponent¡¯s shield. When the duo parted to make space, Daniel¡¯s weapon was sporting a new dent, and a deep gouge had been rent from Gordon¡¯s shield. Neither had been injured, and they seemed evenly matched. The fight would likely come down to whose equipment held out longer. That is, of course, assuming Daniel kept getting hit. He dropped his stance low to the ground and activated two skills back to back. First [Zephyr Step] to increase his speed at the cost of strength, and [Piercer] to try and compensate for the sudden drop in offensive power. He didn¡¯t wait for Gordon to recover and charged the smaller man without delay. Like a jousting knight, he struck straight towards his shield, hoping his ¡®friend¡¯ could come to his senses before anyone got too hurt. A broken shield was a wound to pride for a heavy tank like Gordon, and Daniel¡¯s spear struck across it, ringing like a gong. Gordon¡¯s strike looked to be moving in slow motion, and Daniel was well out of range by the time it passed through his original position. A minor scratch was all he had to show for the most recent attack, but it came at a much lower cost. ¡°Stop dancing around and fight me!¡± Gordon bellowed, pulsing with a weak red light as he activated an unknown skill. Likely a buff of some kind. Practically frothing at the mouth, he charged toward Daniel again, screaming in rage. The spearman dashed to the side and felt his calves scream as he forced his trajectory to hook behind his enemy. Gordon was struck from his blindspot, and the tip of Daniel¡¯s spear cut a long gash along his jaw. Blood started pooling from below his ear and clung in thick clumps in his beard. Another red light pulsed from Gordon, his eyes blanking over into crimson voids. His next scream carried blood from his own ragged throat, and with it, he hurled his shield at Daniel¡¯s head. The distraction worked, and as Daniel stepped to the side to dodge the attack he found himself tackled to the ground and pinned under Gordon¡¯s immense strength. He tried to buck him off, but the strength reduction from [Zephyr Step] made that almost impossible. Gordon¡¯s hands clasped around Daniel¡¯s throat, and a few mercenaries began screaming at him. ¡°That¡¯s enough Gordon!¡±. The dwarf did not let up. Vitality alone was keeping Daniel conscious through the lack of air, but Gordon¡¯s stats were putting pressure on his neck and spine. If he slipped for even a moment he¡¯d die of a broken neck long before he suffocated. His lungs spasmed for air, the sudden lurch deepening his enemy''s hold on his throat. Daniel¡¯s vision started to dim. He grasped desperately for his spear, hands curling around it and swinging blindly above him, desperate and fearful. Something found purchase and knocked Gordon off of him. Daniel was bathed in a sticky wet warmth as he gasped a deep and clarifying breath.
You have slain a [Dwarf Heavy Shielder - Lvl 115] Congratulations! [Junior Mercenary] has leveled up to 47 [Junior Mercenary] has leveled up to 48
Still gasping painful breaths, Daniel crawled to his knees. His eyes were drawn immediately to his former comrade''s corpse, laying limp among the fallen leaves. ¡°Fuck.¡± he sighed. Daniels Interlude part 4 Six months The company gave a somber funeral for Gordon. Most recognized that tensions were running high and he had overstepped, many still mourned for the man he was not the man he became. None of them could say for certain that this experience hadn¡¯t changed them in some way. It was still a dreary morning. A mourning morning. When his pyre had burned out and the vigil was over, what usable armor he had left was split among those it fit. The next few days were quiet. Lonely. Everyone seemed to be trying to keep their distance, afraid of each other and the pain getting close could cause. When they would inevitably die, or be forced to kill each other. That change hadn¡¯t seemed as significant at first, but the longer they had to grapple with it, the more it wormed into them. The dragon wasn¡¯t the only threat. Every level someone gained made them a stronger ally, but in the face of Dieva¡¯s overwhelming might, they could be turned into an opponent just as easily. It shook the foundational trust they had built until that point. There was no way to recover that once lost. A few days later Akke approached Daniel with an idea. ¡°The crew needs their morale back, ssomething to rally behind and get the commons causse together¡± The lizardfolk explained. ¡°What did you have in mind?¡± Daniel asked, sensing there was more to the proposal. ¡°If we¡¯s find the dragon¡¯s lair, raids its hoard, everyone wins. The crew gets a morale boost, each individual gets a lump of gold or a magic items. Dragon hoard is stuff of legend, enough to buy a country. Or level it.¡± The dual-wielder ranted, a glimmer of greed in her eye. She did make a good point though. While not necessarily a ¡®safe¡¯ venture, a raid on Dieva¡¯s hoard could be the deciding factor of their resistance. Recent events had proven their current efforts as a slow-decaying holding pattern. No progress was being made, they were simply delaying the inevitable. After losing half their numbers it would take nothing short of a miracle for any of them to survive and make it home. A miracle they didn¡¯t have time to wait on. The remaining dozen or so fighters held a meeting to deliberate a plan, and hours of shouting could be boiled down into two main points. First, they didn¡¯t know where the lair was. Second, after they found it any plan they made would be useless if the dragon showed up while they were there. So the first and only step they could take was the find the damn thing. Easier said than done. Over the course of their months trapped in the hell jungle, Daniel had a pretty clear idea about the borders of Dragon territory. Burnt trees, clawed stumps, shattered stones, and the occasional massive corpse would often denote the borders, and with literally hundreds of square kilometers to scour through there was no real promise they¡¯d find anything at all. Until their only surviving caster came up with a plan. ¡°Caster¡± is a bit of a stretch though. The grizzled old human man was classed as a spellsword, imbuing items with temporary enchantments to fuel his fighting style well beyond his own physical stats. That imbuing skill was priceless right now though, and the crux of their main plan. Feznan, the spellsword, would wait at base camp and whenever someone came to him he enchanted their weapons with his highest-tier skill to carry a basic magic detection spell. The low power draw meant they could function for days off the initial cast. From there, the mercs would travel in a slowly expanding spiral out from the camp, each one covering a different tract of land and hopefully staying equidistant from each other. The spiral would cover the maximum amount of land while hopefully still providing a relatively straight shot back to camp in the case of an emergency. Once the spiral got too big, they¡¯d need to move camp and search through a different area. The hope was Fez could get his skills fully recharged between each merc making a trip back to him, and spending any downtime mapping what they reported to him. It wasn¡¯t perfect, but it was the best they could do with less than a single squad. They were not truly prepared for how long it would take. The back half of month four and the majority of months five and six were spent combing through endless swaths of the jungle in an ever-expanding network. A couple of mercs gave up and went back to hunting. Daniel and Akke started taking round-the-clock shifts, and Fez had mapped nearly 70% of the area. They had nothing to show for it. No hit of a cave, no magical illusions, no sudden traps. Nothing. It was as if the dragon didn¡¯t have a lair at all. Daniel only ever found it due to sheer luck and coincidence. The opening of the cave faced straight up, layered in so many illusion and obfuscation enchants that not even the detection charm noticed it. Until Daniel took a step on the illusory ground and fell several feet through the jungle floor. His strength and vitality stats kept any of his bones from breaking under the impact, but he definitely sprained something as he clattered to the stone ledge below. The pain seared through him, locking him in the cave for the time being as he could barely stand let alone climb out. Not that the idea even occurred to him much. Glancing around in the darkness, as his system-enhanced senses slowly adapted to the dim conditions around him had Daniel entirely focused on one thing. Vindication. He¡¯d found it at last, and it was exactly like Akke described. Mounds of glittering gems and stolen treasures, ornate weapons embedded in the very stone of the cave, ceremonial chests, and urns filled with unknown power. It would take days to sort through it all, and that was assuming Daniel managed to escape and alert the others. He had to get back up the cliff face before Dieva returned. Daniel¡¯s leg screamed in protest as he lifted himself back to his feet. He almost fell even further, but forced the butt of his spear into the ground and propped himself up on it. The pain in his leg was already subsiding slightly, but it still protested under the weight of the warrior. Crouching low, Daniel activated every skill he had to boost stats, then pushed off with his spear using the full strength of his body. His muscles screamed, the injured leg loudest of all, but the force of the leap took him well past the forty-foot cliff he needed to clear to escape. The landing would be the hardest part. Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! Daniel didn¡¯t have a lot of training in proper form to take a fall, but with high physical stats, you often learn such things in the moment. The downside to being able to leap fifty-some-odd feet in the air, is the resulting fall from height. Still, with the ground rapidly approaching Daniel bent his knees, grit his teeth, and let the momentum roll him forward. He impacted far less forcefully than he initially worried, but tumbled several feet through the underbrush all the same, scraping and scratching on thorns the entire way. Once he came to a stop, he lifted himself back to his feet and winced along with the fresh wave of pain, to start limping back towards camp. Daniel swept back into camp near sunset, finding Akke and Fez in a tense discussion that came to an end the moment they saw him. Akke rushed over, brushing past a few of the less-motivated fighters milling about the camp. ¡°Stesk! I thought you had perished. Why were you gone so long?¡± Daniel was questioned immediately, his friend trapping him in a forceful hug. ¡°I just took a fall¡± He groaned, unable to overcome the dual-wielders strength stat while still leaning on his own spear. ¡°I¡¯m fine. I¡¯m fine¡± Daniel reassured them both. ¡°I found a section of jungle where the floor just fell away, there was a cave hidden under an illusion Fez¡¯s skill didn¡¯t even detect. A cave full of dragon treasure¡± he explained through a smirk. ¡°Come. We must tell the others¡± Akke smiled, helping her friend back into the camp. The next several hours were spent detailing and confirming everything Daniel had seen. He described, redescribed, and answered questions until well after sunset, chewing medicinal herbs for his leg the entire time. When the group finally set about watch rotation and rest for the night, they¡¯d come to a solitary agreement. They would take the hoard or die trying. It was their only hope of success. Gone were the illusions of overcoming the dragon with numbers, gone was the hope of rescue. They were pinned in a trap, desperate and willing to do whatever it takes. The raid would come as soon as Daniel¡¯s leg had recovered, best to have everyone at full strength. He tried multiple times to convince them early that he was back to peak form, but a quick spar with Akke proved him wrong every time. Ultimately, it took Daniel the better part of a week to recover fully, but once he did, everything went into motion for their final plan. The remaining mercenaries split into several groups of three, with Akke and Daniel working as a final group of two. They each went in a different direction away from camp, but with paths planned in such a way to hopefully assure they all arrived at the cave at the same time. And arrive they did. Thankfully, this time everyone was on the lookout for sudden drops, and a few tossed pebbles in the estimated location of the cave alerted them to the illusion before anyone else injured themselves. Several thick vines were then tied off to nearby trees, and the group began rappelling down into the cave. Not that they needed to repel too far, just a few feet and the drop became perfectly comfortable for most physical classes. It was more than they hoped for. Akke struck several torches alight and passed them around in a hurry, the flickering flames reflecting off hundreds of glimmering treasures. Everyone stood ready for a fight, but when there was no sign of an infuriated dragon, the tension left the fighters immediately. This is what they planned for. Half the group was dedicated to searching through the various piles, crates, crevices, and containers, and the other half was overwatch and sorting anything brought to them. It wasn¡¯t as perfectly methodical as one might hope, but these were sellswords, not bankers. A small mound of weapons, armor, and glistening trinkets started to form near the tunnel to the surface. All the while Daniel couldn¡¯t shake this feeling of dread that seemed to drip down the back of his neck. He was about to voice his concerns to Akke when Fez strode up to him with a beaming smile. ¡°Stesk, my friend, as the only spear wielder in the group it makes sense that you should have this without contest¡± The older human explained with a hand outstretched. He held a shining spear in his hand, lighter than steel and polished like silver, it was covered from end to end in spiraled flame engravings. ¡°I spoke with the others, no one thinks it should count as your share either. We¡¯re calling it a finders fee¡± The spellsword said with a laugh, thrusting the weapon into Daniel¡¯s hands before he could protest. Daniel started to thank the old fool when he was suddenly interrupted by a loud crash from the other side of the cave. A pile of treasure had collapsed on the young half-elf trying to sort through it. The weight of the stuff shouldn¡¯t have been an issue, but the poor boy was skewered by no less than five enchanted daggers in the avalanche. He was dead by the time they found him. Daniel¡¯s feeling of dread only grew colder. ¡°Oh my, what a horrible accident¡± a familiar voice whispered in the darkness, barely audible to Daniel¡¯s enhanced senses. ¡°DRAGON! The dragon¡¯s here. Fez, sweep for invisibility!¡± It was already too late. Panic erupted from the company, many of them drawing newly stolen weaponry and dashing for the exit. Dieva had played them, the whole thing was a trap. Fez stepped across a pile of coins, only for a gilded iron maiden to burst from the ground, piercing his body and sealing him in the enchanted prison. The group''s only hope of finding the invisible dragon trapped alongside him, assuming he still lived. ¡°I¡¯m nothing if not sporting¡± Dieva proclaimed, dismissing her illusions just in time to appear before two archers and consume them both in living fire. Blown out as easily as a candle. With a flick of her draconic wrist, weapons, trinkets, and even coins and gems whirled through the air as makeshift missiles, striking and biting wherever they could. Everyone sustained injury as they struggled towards the entrance to the cave, the exit marking a false hope of escape. None wanted to admit they were already dead should the dragon decide it. ¡°Stesk. You go, get the others out. I¡¯ll buy you as much time as I can¡± Akke hissed, drawing two curved swords from her pack, each one dripping with green light. ¡°Draka! I challenge you to a duel of clan honor. Upon the will of the Scaled Emperor.¡± Akke screamed to the dragon, citing ancient religious codes hopefully still shared among their people. Those were the last words she spoke. Dieva smirked in response. ¡°I accept. I will stand on my own, however, and recognize the honor of clan Krisk in your sacrifice.¡± Seemingly satisfied, Akke activated every skill she thought she had time for, and charged the beast. Daniel did not have time to delay and watch their fight though, he rushed to the few remaining mercs, all of them injured, and began helping others up the cliff. At times pushing them up the vines when their strength seemed to be failing. As he was helping the others lift up and out, he glanced over his shoulder just in time to watch a deep orange spell fly free from Dieva¡¯s claws and impact the tunnel ceiling. A mighty earthquake followed, and a rampant heat, Daniel was blown halfway up the vine before he even started climbing, the lair collapsing in on itself behind him. Burying his friends along with their draconic tormentor. No time to mourn though. Dieva would be back, and Daniel had to lead the others back to camp before they got ambushed. That night, none would sleep well. Least of all Daniel, who would find himself haunted by strange dreams. 5 mercenaries remaining Daniels Interlude FINAL 1 year Daniel had been wrong. Not entirely wrong, but wrong all the same. Dieva had returned from the collapsed cave, but not nearly as fast as he had feared. In the weeks following the raid on her lair, two of his fellow mercs had recovered fully from their wounds. The other two had been inset with magical rot or infection. None of the remaining survivors could heal it, and neither of the victims had skills to overcome it. The first succumbed to his wounds and died in frothing agony. The second chose to slit her own throat before facing the same pain. They¡¯d shared the same funeral pyre. When Dieva strode into camp casually some weeks later, wearing the same dress she¡¯d so casually discarded in all of Daniel¡¯s recent dreams, fear ran through him like ice. She was furious, and demanding, but never overtly hostile. She would insult them, and chastise them like children, but not once did she attack. The dragon was goading them on. Eventually, it worked. Daniel¡¯s last two comrades inevitably challenged the dragon to Honor duels, much like Akke had. Pointing to their foe¡¯s crumbled scales or lingering scratches as signs of building fatigue and weakness. Each one was sure they would be the victor. Each one died in glory. Glory is of little consolation to those it leaves behind. Daniel built the first pyre on his own. When Dieva offered to assist with the second, he thought her joking. A cruel play to have a soldier¡¯s funeral ushered by his own killer. ¡°Leave me in peace!¡± he had snapped at her, lost in his own emotions. The second surprise came when she did just that. Daniel said goodbye to the last of his comrades and went hunting for the first time in weeks. The food stores they had built up together were all but depleted. He¡¯d not die from starvation as long as he had the will. His new spear was frighteningly effective the more he used it. Cinder Shard as he¡¯d taken to calling it, could burn as easily as it pierced, stronger and lighter than anything he¡¯d ever used. The more Daniel practiced with the new weapon, the less it felt like a weapon at all, more of an extension of his arm. Dieva moved into camp with him some weeks later. She did not ask but made it clear he had no choice. She would vanish some time after he fell asleep each night, and arrive early in the morning just after he awoke. Always in her human form, never once attacking the defeated man. Not to say that Daniel was broken by any means, he slept in a different tree each night to avoid the beasts of the jungle, and he hunted plenty to keep himself fed. He¡¯d just convinced himself he no longer had any hope of defeating the dragon. He¡¯d resigned himself to being her ¡®pet¡¯. The dreams he kept having made him suspect she thought the same of him. Several months in, Daniel¡¯s class [Junior Mercenary] reached its maximum level of 50. For some time he dared not even attempt a class up, fearing the vulnerable time he spent evolving his class would make him boring to the dragon and spell his inevitable doom. In this way, he fell into a routine of sorts. Every morning he would be greeted by the dragon, who would watch him with sadistic glee as he scratched out a meager survival in the wilds. Every night he would be tormented by dreams he did not fully understand. His clothes became haggard and unrepaired, even the replacements for his replacements, taken from fallen comrades. All worn threadbare and discarded in favor of pelts taken from fallen beasts. The knife he¡¯d formerly used to shave was now used solely for butchering the meat of his daily hunt, his gaunt face slowly fading into a scraggly beard. All the while, as more and more of his civilized humanity was stripped from him, Daniel focused on the burning coals in his gut. Spite and anger fuel him day after day. Until his pattern broke. Late in the evening one-night Dieva approached Daniel¡¯s tree and gestured for him to join her. Recalling what happened the last time he told her no, Daniel lept from his perch to hear his latest torment. ¡°As stimulating as your company has been these past few months my dear, I grow bored with each passing day. I¡¯m afraid I have other things that will need my attention for some time, and so I leave a trinket with you and take a small taste to remember you while I¡¯m gone¡± Dieva explained in a strangely melodic voice. She produced from the folds of her dress a small leather necklace, threaded with a deep red scale as a pendant. Daniel dared not protest as she looped it over his head. When Dieva drew back, a sharp cut stung daniels face, and the dragon licked his blood from a taloned hand now at odds with her otherwise human form. It shifted back just as quickly, and the remaining sanguine drops were placed in a small vial. ¡°Don¡¯t die while I¡¯m gone. That would be horrifically anticlimactic¡± she called over her shoulder, disappearing into the jungle unceremoniously. Daniel didn¡¯t know how long she would be gone, and at first, he didn¡¯t dare hope it was real. After a week on his own, he started roaming the territory even further. After a month, he hunted close to the edges of her territory. After three months he classed up. The class-up ritual was different for each person, but without fail, it included an introspective meditation and a prayer. The prayer need not always be to a god, but it was useful to speak intention into words and help shape the choices given. None of the choices Daniel was prepared for were available anymore. He couldn¡¯t take [Mercenary] variants anymore, his company was gone. [Spearman] would have been fine, or even [Survivalist], but the last choice in his list was the only one that gave him any hope of the future. [Army of One] He took it without hesitation and felt a surge of new power run through him. New available skills chimed out in his ears, new ways to fight, new boons. All of it screaming in hunger for xp, for levels. Daniel made sure to keep them well fed. 1 mercenary remains 2 years Daniel survived in the wilderness on his own for 9 months, 2 weeks, and several days. He lost track of the days at some point and had to restart his count. Nearly a year Dieva left him on his own in her territory. Nearly a year he spent grinding levels and hunting monsters. At some point, he hunted her territory dry and began stringing up the entrails of his defeated foes as bait to draw in desperate and hungry beasts from the surrounding jungle. When those ran out he started ranging away from the dragon territory entirely. He knew by that point Dieva couldn¡¯t stop him from escaping, but he¡¯d long since come to realize he didn¡¯t want to. He no longer wanted to survive, his new class had reignited the desire he had to win. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. During one trip to the south of Dieva¡¯s lands he convinced himself he might have a chance. He wandered several hundred kilometers until he found a noxious swamp. The only things making a home there were oozes and slimes. Poor experience altogether, until he found an [Elder Ooze]. An S-rank monster with some of the highest defense and regeneration numbers ever registered. He didn¡¯t recall their stats off the top of his head, but Daniel knew they had deceptively high attack damage. Their fight lasted for three straight days. Daniel began to rely on his Vitality stat alone to keep him awake and cognizant enough to keep moving. When he eventually located the creature¡¯s core and burned it away, he collapsed into the mud beside it and slept. Daniel had no idea exactly how long, it was more than a day judging by the sun, but that could have been two days or more just as easily. Satisfied he picked himself up, and walked back to Dieva¡¯s territory, repeating his recent outing in every direction, systematically stripping a massive swath of wilderness of any living monsters. When he made his way back to his original camp after what felt like an eternity, he scowled to see Dieva sitting on a rock waiting for him. ¡°I told you not to leave my lands,¡± she stated calmly. ¡°Yeah, well you also told me not to die while you were gone, and I ran out of food a few weeks later. Had to go hunting somewhere¡± Daniel brushed her off, knowing full well if she wanted to attack him she¡¯d have done it long ago. ¡°I am pleased to see you alive¡± Dieva offered after an uncomfortable silence started to grow between them. ¡°Well, at least that makes one of us¡± Daniel grunted, taking a seat in the dirt and pulling out his last sharpening stone to perform maintenance on Cinder Shard. ¡°I suppose you¡¯ll be challenging me to a duel like others soon¡± Dieva pondered out loud, her gaze cast to the overcast sky. ¡°Aye.¡± ¡°And there¡¯s definitely no chance of me talking you out of it.¡± ¡°Aye.¡± ¡°So I¡¯ll see you in the morning then.¡± ¡°Aye.¡± And without any further ado, the dragon lifted herself up, cast off her human form, and took to the skies. Each fighter making their final preparations for the end of nearly two years of torment. Deiva did not meet Daniel in his camp the next morning. Rather he had to search her out, finding the red behemoth in a large clearing of jungle near her old lair. A circle, nearly a kilometer across, had been leveled and burned into a perfectly flat arena. Dieva sat in the middle, her left foreleg resting on a large chest. She called out as soon as she spotted him. ¡°Daniel of clan Stesk. I recognize your strength in being the last of your kind to have invaded my territory. Upon my honor as the lady of Cinders, I meet you in fair combat. Should you emerge victorious I have prepared a small boon as your right of conquest. Should you perish I swear to honor you in the burial rights of your people. What say you?¡± ¡°You should have just let us go.¡± ¡°Perhaps. It is far too late for that now¡± Dieva seemed to sigh, and with a roar, took to the skies to start their fight. Daniel activated three of his new skills simultaneously. [Strength of an Army], [Forced March], and [Battalion¡¯s Resilience], boosting his combat-relevant stats as high as he could with his current build, and fell into a familiar rhythm of battle. ¡°Akke.¡± Daniel mumbled under his breath, breaking into a full sprint toward the center of the circle. ¡°Corkas.¡± He closed the distance in the blink of an eye. ¡°Feznan¡± he struck the chest with his lead foot and lept with all the strength he had. Dieva looked down to watch the human hurtle towards her like an arrow, tucking her wings, she tried to roll out of the way, but her hesitation got the best of her. ¡°Emma.¡± Daniel drove the tip of Cinder Shard into the dragon¡¯s shoulder, doing minimal damage but anchoring himself on her back. ¡°Gordon.¡± with a fifth name spoken, Daniel met the requirements for his most powerful skill. [Requiem].
Requiem. Speak the name of five fallen comrades you have witnessed die. Gain a raw increase to all stats for each name spoken, and a further increase for each subsequent name. Upon deactivation of the skill, user experiences exhaustion proportional to the former increase. User also experiences vivid memories of every death they invoked.
He would be out of commission for some time after this fight, but that did not matter. One by one, name by name, all 89 members of his company would be recounted. His class was [Army of One], but he would not defeat the dragon alone. Dieva roared in pain, tucking her wings as fully as she could and halting her flight. The entangled enemies stalled in mid-air for a moment, before plummeting back to the earth. With a crash, Daniel was pinned to the ground, his left leg shattered but [Battalion¡¯s Resilience] kept him fighting on. He drew Akke¡¯s sword from his back letting go of Cinder Shard with his main hand and wrenching it free as he stood. the faint bend in his new blade from the impact caused a shallow cut on his back as it drug from the makeshift scabbard. He gouged several scales out as Dieva lifted herself to her feet, just in time to scramble into his own stance. Spouting off names of his fallen comrades between each ragged breath. For a moment Daniel regretted leaving Gordon¡¯s shield at the camp but gripped Akke¡¯s sword with two hands instead, leaving Cinder Shard behind for later. He charged the dragon just as she recovered, leaping into her face to dodge a gout of burning dragonfire. His dodge was off step just slightly, the heat burning through his makeshift hide armor and charring a large section of his right abdomen. He grit his teeth for a moment, the next set of requiem names screams of pain more so than words. Daniel landed on Dieva¡¯s long spiked jaw, gripping a scale and hoisting himself up to embed Akke¡¯s sword in his enemy''s right eye. Incoherent roaring from both sides followed, and Dieva flung Daniel off her to create distance. Daniel drew his spear from the dirt as his foe started Channeling several deep orange spells. Daniel had run out of names. [Requiem] was as strong as it was going to get. He activated a final skill. [Heartseeker], and hurled his spear with every ounce of strength he could muster in his body. It seemed to stand still in the air, the world moving around it rather than the weapon actually flying. It struck true, silence fell in the jungle, the only sound a few ragged breaths from Dieva as she lost control of her final spell forms. Daniel could have sworn she almost looked happy as she died, the characteristic smirk of the dragon only returning in her final moments. He blacked out just as several messages rang out through his system.
Congratulations! You have slain a [Cinder Clan Exile - Lvl 349] Congratulations! [Army of One] has leveled up to 59 [Army of One] has leveled up to 60 ¡­ [Army of One] has leveled up to 75 Class evolution Available!
Total Casualties: 9 S rank monsters, 917 wilderness monsters ranks A-C, 258 merchants, 89 mercenaries, 28 horses, 20 yaks, 18 donkeys, 5 farriers, 4 chefs, 3 blacksmiths, and 1 dragon. Survivors: Daniel Stesk. Unknown Dragon¡¯s egg. When Daniel awoke, he found Dieva¡¯s body curled around the golden chest she had promised him, her hands almost folded defensively in front of them. The size difference lets him climb over her quite easily to get to the container. He opened it to find a small mountain of coins, a folded parchment letter he has never revealed the contents of, and what he assumed to be a precious gemstone. A deep black ovular egg, like polished Onyx and harder than anything he¡¯d ever known. Daniel has said repeatedly that he knows it¡¯s a dragon egg and not a gemstone. He remains unwilling to elaborate how he knows this. It would take Daniel some time to make his return to human civilization, but that is a tale for another time. Chapter 10 - Return to Andras 15 years After the attack on the village, life at home slowly but surely returned to normal. Buildings were rebuilt, lives put back together, and collectively my little community tried to move on. Of course, not everything was exactly the same. For example, Daniel led a push to expand the local militia and start constructing defensive palisades around the village perimeter. I was quite proud of the leadership he displayed in the immediate fallout of the initial attack. I think seeing him fight to defend our town led others to look to him naturally. If I had system access I could have likely done the same. Perhaps the palisades will need defensive wards one day? Walls were not the only change either. The inevitable horrors of pubescence, slow and insidious as they may be, did come to finally claim me. This inescapable shame, coupled with the frequent pains of skeletal realignment (what mother calls ¡®growth spurts¡¯) has been the primary source of my most recent suffering. If only that were the end of it. Physical pain is not enough apparently, as the myriad symptoms seem almost hand-crafted to embarrass and shame me into emotional torment as well. All consistency was gone from my voice, the previously high-pitched tone, while grating, was at least regular. Frequent cracks and warbles now plague me as my throat no doubt adjusts to a new pitch. Even that would be tolerable on its own, however. No, the worst of it by far and away, is the inescapable descent into manhood. I can recall vaguely from my first tangle with adolescence some of the more persistent side effects. One factor I have no such experience with. Leigh. Every time she laughs I feel my heart tighten in my chest. Her smile puts fire in my blood, and when she looks at me my thoughts flee to unknown worlds. Leigh¡¯s mere presence commands all of my attention at any given time, and I have yet to find recourse. Just last week she came over in the evening to have dinner with us. Apparently, her father was ¡°working late¡± on some rush order he got. The story sounded suspicious but I didn¡¯t want to question her presence. I digress, she came over before sunset, and mother and I were in the kitchen doing preparations for dinner. Mother, in an unprecedented act of betrayal, insisted that Leigh help in my stead. Something about me doing ¡°more harm than good¡±. Unbelievable. Neia¡¯s comment elicited a laugh from Leigh, and as I turned to look her way it was as if time had stopped. She smiled, brushing a small lock of her fiery red hair out of her face. Our eyes met, and I felt my face heating up. She glanced away, and at that moment I felt something I¡¯d never known before. I¡¯m not sure I can describe it even now. These feelings worry me deeply. On one hand, I see Leigh as the close childhood friend have I grown up with all these years, but with the memories of my past life, I can¡¯t get past the perception of her being so much younger than me, even if our bodies are the same. I can¡¯t deny that I¡¯m fond of her. She seems to be the only person outside of my immediate family not somehow unsettled by me. No one is cruel exactly, but Leigh continues to be the only one who is actively kind. She reminds me of a lost puppy in a way, her kindness and trust seem unconditional. Thus, I feel it would be a disservice to her for my own conflicted and confused feelings to somehow damage or distort one of the most valuable relationships I have. I am likely only delaying an inevitable confrontation and self-reflection regarding my feelings for her, but that is a problem for the future. Maybe once this body has fully grown, and Leigh comes into her own as a mature adult, I¡¯ll explain my reservations to her fully. I do feel bad for not telling her already, but a large part of me fears her reaction if she were to learn my secret. A negative reaction to the unknown is notably common among the uneducated. People fear what they can¡¯t control. My own feelings about her aside, Leigh has been spending more and more time visiting us lately. Her constant presence after the wyvern incident at first seemed like a misplaced feeling of debt, but now I¡¯m not so sure. It¡¯s been years, surely by now anything she felt she owed us has been repaid. Or at least I thought so initially. The reality of the matter turned out far less comforting than I¡¯d ever hoped. After their home was leveled in the attack, Leigh¡¯s father never fully rebuilt their house. He had a workshop so he could keep working, and a small attached building with enough space for him and Leigh to live, but only just barely. They had no kitchen, no dining space, and according to Leigh, they didn¡¯t even have a table anymore. Her father had resorted to purchasing most of his meals from the local tavern instead of providing for his family. Occasionally he¡¯d give Leigh money to get food of her own, but the word on the street is that he often uses that for booze. Leigh looked hurt when I tried to ask her about it so I decided not to push the subject. It¡¯s not her fault after all, she doesn¡¯t deserve to be interrogated much like she doesn¡¯t deserve to suffer. This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. As much as her home life riled me, I was willing to support her in silence. She could eat every meal at our house, and stay until sundown while her father drank away his sadness. I knew Leigh was hurting as well. She seemed to shrink whenever I called Neia ¡°mom¡±, and on more than one occasion I had been her literal shoulder to cry on. In those moments of vulnerability and weakness, she almost seems, pathetically small. I must remind myself she¡¯s a child going through a traumatic event, I shouldn¡¯t judge her too harshly. However, the death of his wife is no excuse for her father to turn away from his daughter when she needs him more than ever. The worst part of his failure illuded me for a long while though. I wish I had known sooner, it would have given me more time to plan. Leigh¡¯s father was taking his rage out on her. She never told me, and I never saw the signs. The only reason I found out was due to a mistake on his part. He failed to cover his tracks, whatever Leigh had usually suffered through wasn¡¯t enough, and this time he¡¯d left a bruise on her face. She¡¯d arrived at our house early one morning, her right cheekbone swollen and purple. It boiled my blood when I saw it, and I could tell mother and father were having similar thoughts. Mother led her to the kitchen to tend the wound, and like the idiots we are Daniel and I just stood in the doorway fuming. He was the first to break the silence. ¡°Vincent, I haven¡¯t ever explained common law to you. Did you know most nations consider children almost like the parent¡¯s property? And with a few exceptions many nations default to a man as the head of a household?¡± father grimaced, the unfortunate truth of our current situation distilled downwards into a single hypothetical question. ¡°So if Leigh wanted to move out of her father¡¯s house permanently what could she do?¡± I asked, already fearing the answer. ¡°She¡¯d either need to get his consent, come of age, or start a family of her own. Which would require him to approve a marriage.¡± ¡°That doesn¡¯t seem likely given his recent displays of character¡± I said through gritted teeth. ¡°No. It does not.¡± father sighed. ¡°Half the town already thinks the two of you are courting¡± he chuckled dryly. It had never occurred to me how the amount of time Leigh and I spent together might appear to others. I just enjoyed her company. Much the same way one plays with an animal. She¡¯s my friend. ¡°but I¡¯m not sure we have anything to offer as a bride price that would convince a man like that to agree¡± I could feel the deep sadness in his tone along with conflicted anger. ¡°Can¡¯t you just convince him to stop? Or make him go away?¡± I asked, not daring to be hopeful at that moment. Surely dad could leverage all his combat levels to convince a rural blacksmith to behave himself, even if it did get a bit physical. ¡°If I knock him around, all that does is teach him to be more careful in the future. Leigh¡¯s gone this far without telling us anything.¡± Daniel groaned, his eyes locked on the silhouettes of the village in the distance. I meant kill him, but apparently Daniel didn¡¯t grasp that subtlty. He opened his mouth to speak up a few more times but never seemed to find the words he wanted. ¡°Your mom¡¯s always going on and on about how mature you are for your age, and here I am talking to you like an old guard buddy¡± he laughed after a while. I wasn¡¯t sure if he was laughing at himself or at the strange situation. ¡°We¡¯ll talk about this some more tonight. Best not keep the gals waiting.¡± He said, stepping out of the doorway and back into the house. As I followed behind he mumbled something under his breath I couldn¡¯t quite hear, but I could feel a pressure radiating off him I¡¯d never seen before. That night we had a quiet and calm dinner as a family. It didn¡¯t need to be spoken aloud by anyone, we all knew, Leigh was family now and had been for a long time. It wasn¡¯t going to stand like this, we just had to figure out how to fix it first. Mother offered several times to let Leigh stay the night. In a surprising turn of events Father even offered to go ¡°let her dad know, and make sure it was okay with him¡±. His spear leaning near the door said more than his words did. Unfortunately, despite our best efforts, Leigh refused. My heart was pounding in my chest as she left, a thousand horrible worries running through my mind. I snapped back to myself when I felt father¡¯s hand on my shoulder. ¡°Come on. Let¡¯s talk inside.¡± Chapter 11 Father lead me back inside the house and we sat down at the kitchen table. Mom was still cleaning up the kitchen when we entered, but when she saw us she quickly doused the kitchen fire with a wave of her hand and moved to join us. That was the first time I¡¯d ever seen Neia do magic, and I was furious that I couldn¡¯t ask her more about it. Why did she always do things manually if she knew magic? More pressing matters demanded my attention though. The three of us sat in silence around the table for what felt like ages before anyone spoke up. It was Mother who broke the silence. ¡°Before we get too far into it, since I know what you both want to talk about, let me just say. Vincent. Your father knows everything I do. He and I had a long discussion about it several years ago, and if the two of you are going to go flying off the handle about this I think it¡¯s best everyone should be completely honest.¡± My heart started pounding in my chest, and I could feel a swell of fear in my chest. Neia had handled the truth well, but she had seen my memories firsthand. Daniel was a far more simple and straightforward man, I couldn¡¯t say with any certainty how I¡¯d expect him to react. I nearly jumped out of my seat when I felt his hand clamp down on my shoulder once more. It wasn¡¯t Neia¡¯s place to tell my secrets, let alone take them in the first place. ¡°I¡¯ll admit. It freaked me out a lot the first time it was explained to me¡± Daniel began, my fears only heightened with every word. ¡°But, your mom made a good point. Everything that happened before you were our son doesn¡¯t change anything about all these years you¡¯ve spent with us, even if it does paint them in a new light. When I think about how I felt when you got hurt and when you didn¡¯t wake up those first few days, there¡¯s no doubt in my mind. Vincent, Andras, whatever you want to be called, whoever you want to be, this time around you¡¯re our kid. That makes us a team.¡± As Daniel spoke more and more, his blunt approach to the topic almost terrified me completely. Yet, hearing his honest feelings laid out so succinctly helped confirm my own feelings. Part of me had still been approaching my new family with a calculated distance, a fear of getting hurt again. Neia and Daniel didn¡¯t deserve that, they¡¯d proven on multiple occasions they deserved my trust, and I wasn¡¯t going to refuse that any longer. They were useful, and I liked having them around. ¡°Now!¡± mother interjected as dad and I shared an emotional look, neither wanting to be the first to cry. ¡°If you two are thinking what I know you¡¯re thinking, I just want to be very clear. I don¡¯t approve of violence as a solution to problems, and I think it should always be a last resort once all other options have been expended. That being said, there are no first resorts that any of us can see, are there?¡± A long, dreadful silence followed. We all knew the answer. Dad was the one to put it into words. Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. ¡°He won¡¯t just let her leave, we probably can¡¯t convince him to let the kids get married.¡± I still didn¡¯t know why everyone was hung up on Leigh and me getting married, especially if they knew about my reincarnation. That was likely a question for another time, though I¡¯d put it off until wedding bells started ringing if I could. ¡°But¡± Daniel sighed deeply, ¡°It would still be better to ask than assume. I¡¯ll go visit him tomorrow and see if we can work something out. I don¡¯t have my hopes up though.¡± ¡°Good. Now, assuming that doesn¡¯t work what do you plan to do about it after?¡± Mother continued, keeping the conversation well on track and not letting our thoughts wander too far. Gods know father and I were both a bit more tempestuous than an Elf with centuries of patience. It was finally my turn to speak up, and given that both my parents were clearly trying to set a very strong example for me I felt it somewhat necessary to lean into their hopes. ¡°Killing him is a last resort, and if we get there then it needs to be done in a way that doesn¡¯t come back to us. Most importantly, it needs to happen in a way that doesn¡¯t make things worse for Leigh. Even if he¡¯s cruel to her, that¡¯s still her dad, and replacing one trauma for another would be a disservice to her.¡± I began to explain my thoughts on the subject, eyes glued to the tabletop. When I looked up, mom and dad were both nodding softly and looking back at me with expectant looks. So I¡¯m only an adult when you need my help?, I felt anger rise in my chest for a moment, tamping that down quickly. ¡°Dad made a good point earlier. Roughing him up and leaving him alone after might just encourage him to hide his tracks better. Maybe we could ¡®convince¡¯ him to leave town though?¡± I asked rhetorically, expecting some better plan to be suggested instead. To my surprise, my suggestion was considered quite seriously. ¡°That¡¯s not half bad.¡± Daniel mumbled after a moment, puzzling his thoughts in prolonged silence. ¡°The hardest part would be convincing him to stay away once he left, but I think I can manage something on that. It certainly sounds easier than covering up his ¡®disappearance¡¯¡± At that point, Neia interjected as well. ¡°It also involves less senseless violence, which has my full support. I don¡¯t want to establish a precedent of solving problems by making people go away.¡± I could hear the pain in her voice as she spoke, clearly bothered by Leigh¡¯s circumstances as much as we were, but conflicted against her sense of ethics. ¡°I have a few ideas for spells that might help,¡± I mumbled, embarrassed to speak so openly about my passion in front of my parents. They both knew I loved magic as a concept, but I¡¯d never really done much spell work in front of them. In fact, my day-to-day life included very little spell work here in the countryside, but that was a problem for another day. ¡°I saw you do a spell earlier m-mom¡± I stammered, feeling very self-conscious calling Daniel and Neia as mom and dad all of the sudden. ¡°Would you look over my ideas with me tonight and make sure it will work?¡± I of course wanted her perspective, she was a high leveled magic-user even if her skills focused on memory, but at the same time, it would help me identify if any of my more basic spell forms were well known yet or not. ¡°Of course sweetie pie, you and I can do that tonight and tomorrow morning while your dad is in town speaking to Leigh¡¯s father. For now, though I want you to go wash up, it¡¯s almost time for bed and I won¡¯t let your studies keep you up all night no matter how important they are.¡± I sighed but stood up from the table to comply all the same. I learned long ago that there was no point arguing with mother. I walked to the wash basin, cool water fetched earlier this morning, and scrubbed my hands and face clean. I folded up the clothes of the day and set them in the basket we used for laundry, the loose undergarments I used as night clothes waiting in the nearby dresser. I could hear mom and dad still chatting in the kitchen as I made my way back to join them, their conversation coming to an abrupt halt. Dad stood to leave, patting me on the shoulder as he passed and quietly offering ¡°Love ya bud.¡± I joined mom at the table again and spent the next couple of hours going over spell forms I was confident I could build and having her review them. Chapter 12 I barely slept that night, tossing and turning in my bed which was now almost too small for my increased stature. The exhaustion eventually caught up with me, and sometime before dawn, I passed out completely. When mother finally chose to wake me, dad had already left for the village. I waited with bated breath for him to return, the nervous energy bringing me to a knife¡¯s edge. Mother insisted that I eat a proper breakfast, but beyond a few placating bites I had no appetite. In the larger context of my two lives, Leigh¡¯s situation seemed like a relatively trivial issue. So why then does it bother me so much? I think in part because of my fondness for Leigh, I¡¯m more worried about how the outcome might affect her and by extension her opinion of me. Between my knowledge of magic, and mom and dad¡¯s high levels, I can¡¯t imagine much that would pose a genuine threat to me or my way of life, except the village coming under attack again. Leigh, however, was another story. She¡¯s mine. My friend, and I care for her. I think? As I sat there in the morning hours, wracking my mind for a dozen possible outcomes and solutions, I remembered for just a moment how worried I¡¯d been over Vincent Gildea the first time we did combat as a party. Even then I knew the general scope of his blessings and skills would keep him well out of danger, but my care for him caused a similar worry to what I now feel for Leigh. I squashed those painful memories before they could get too far out of hand. He deserves to be forgotten. Eventually, father made his way in the front door with a defeated look. Part of me knew what he was going to say immediately, but another still held out hope. That didn¡¯t last long. ¡°No luck. He was drunk when I arrived, and the moment I started asking about Leigh living with us he blew up and tried to hit me. Didn¡¯t even get to the marriage proposal.¡± Dad sighed and took a seat at the table. I still don¡¯t understand why he¡¯s so hung up on the concept of Leigh and I getting married, and mom too, it seems like everyone knows something I don¡¯t. It seems like a waste of time. Leigh should know the truth before being comitted to something like that. ¡°Well then,¡± Mom said with a clap of her hands, ¡°We¡¯ll just have to make the best of a bad situation. I¡¯m going to go into town for some shopping, and while I¡¯m there I plan to ask Leigh for her help. It should give me a chance to talk to her in private and see how she feels about this whole thing. In the meantime I want the two of you to come up with an actual idea. If you¡¯re going to be violent I don¡¯t want you doing it in a stupid way.¡± She explained, standing from the table and prepping a few things in a small basket to leave with. On her way out mom stopped by each of us, kissing me gently on the head despite my protests, and giving a far more romantic kiss to Daniel. Yuck. Their own romance must be why they keep insisting on something similar for myself. She made her way out of the house, and dad and I got to discussing the safest way to proceed now that we were down to the last resort. We sat in awkward silence for some time, neither of us was used to spending much time alone with the other. Thankfully there were important matters to force us into action. If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°Do you know any spells that would help out with something like this?¡± Daniel asked awkwardly, clearly unsure how to broach the subject of my past life knowledge. ¡°I actually have a few ideas that might work, but you know the man better than I do so I¡¯d like to get your opinion¡± I offered, trying to involve dad as much as I could in the magical side. Hopefully, it will make him more comfortable talking about it with me in the future. ¡°Of course bud, but I want you to avoid anything that could cause mana burn like the last time I saw you slinging spells.¡± dad instructed, leaning forward at the table to give me his full attention. I wasn¡¯t in the mood for another bout with mana poisoning either, so I was happy to keep the list limited to the low-level spells I felt comfortable casting. At my current levels, and with my limited mana capacity, I really only had three applicable spells for this situation. I could produce a pretty substantial fear aura over a very small radius, or expand the area of effect dramatically in exchange for lower potency. The former was likely to have the best effect with our current goals. The other two spells were a bit more niche. I was fairly confident I could manage a basic reanimation spell, likely on a small creature, nothing larger than a goat or a dog. The final spell I could manage with such a measly mana pool was a pretty basic debuff curse. A minor reduction to all stats and a very minimal slow. The spellform itself was scalable and depending on how much mana I provided it, it could be completely debilitating. With only a combined 60 points of mana to spend across all three spells though, I¡¯d have to be judicious with my casting. In theory, I could do the reanimation ahead of time and allow some time for my pool to regen, but with the upkeep cost of an undead tethered to me, my regen rate would be cut significantly. Two reanimations and my mana regen would be cut in half, probably more. I explained this all to dad as gently as I could, knowing from previous experience how uncomfortable certain people became around dark magic. Thankfully, Daniel being so completely non-magical himself seemed to prevent any preconceptions about the topic. ¡°Okay. That¡¯s actually not that bad, I think we can work with that,¡± he muttered under his breath, suddenly lost in thought. Daniel contemplated for a prolonged moment before standing up in a rush. ¡°Get your boots on, I saw some vultures picking at a wolf carcass when I was last on patrol. If we¡¯re lucky it¡¯ll still be there and you can reanimate it sooner rather than later.¡± Dad grabbed his spear and waited a moment for me to finish fastening my boots before leading me out of the house at a jog. It was far below the maximum speed he could accomplish, but it was a comfortable rush for my own stats, and I could tell whenever dad glanced back at me he was checking to be sure. Rushing through the town like this, with dad, felt great. It was like we were both in the militia, responding to some report, or going out for one of his usual patrols. There was a singular purpose to it, both of us focused on the same activity. I¡¯d meant to ask dad a long time ago about joining him on his patrols, but part of me had always been apprehensive. Without full system access I was perpetually stuck at level 1, and while mom and dad could help me get new skills, I couldn¡¯t advance them. Part of me was worried. Worried that I¡¯d hold him back, make him worry about me. Truthfully, I was far more afraid than I think I was willing to admit. After facing death at my own hand the first time, and coming far closer than I¡¯d want to at the hands of the drake, I hadn¡¯t noticed a powerful fear seep into me. Not fear of death per se, but a fear of losing. A fear of losing the people I cared about, again, a fear of losing to people I saw as beneath me, again. Archmage Grigori does not lose. Vincent Stesk does not lose. I am not willing to lose anything else. This new life I had for myself was nice, better than I¡¯d even hoped for. In order to protect the people I cared about, like Leigh, I needed to be stronger. That would include dad teaching me more about combat. For now, it meant doing my first bit of real necromancy in almost two decades. It¡¯s about time. Chapter 13 Dad and I rushed to the forest, whipping through the underbrush as fast as my legs could carry me. While my stats hadn¡¯t increased at all these past few years, even just the extra length of my legs having recently grown provided a significant boost. Without pause, dad started leading me along the well-trodden footpaths to a spot he seemed to remember near the wolf carcass he spotted. We didn¡¯t find it immediately, but once we were in the area, the stench of rot and decay was a somewhat pungent beacon in the right direction. When we finally came across the body, it was mostly picked clean by scavengers and decomposers, the bones fully exposed and only a few blood-matted scraps of fur left. As we approached, insects and beetles scurried out of the hollow cavity of the ribcage, frightened by our presence they scurried back into the safety of the forest undergrowth. ¡°Can you handle things from here?¡± Dad asked, gesturing to the wolf corpse with a brief look of disgust. ¡°Yeah. I¡¯ve got it, thanks¡± I tried to force myself to smile up at him. I¡¯ve long since grown numb to the stench of rot and decay, but even with experience, the site wasn¡¯t exactly pleasant. I turned to the grim work with determination, the occasional sound of crunching leaves as Daniel patrolled a loose perimeter echoing softly in the morning air. He¡¯s weak, scared of real magic just like those fools in Teraq. I shook off the distraction and set to work. Left alone in the silence and cool morning air, I could finally do what I¡¯d come here to do. A reanimated wolf skeleton isn¡¯t going to be a particularly strong minion, but dark magics had a way of unnerving people regardless. Even without the added benefit of my fear spell. I don¡¯t have time to find a better minion, I have no other options. Suboptimal necromancy is still necromancy. If I¡¯m going to do it, I¡¯ll do it right. I took out a small kitchen knife, borrowed from the house this evening, and carefully scratched out a circle around the wolf. In the future, I plan to do this fully manually, but for the time a written spell circle of any medium will dramatically increase my efficiency. Stripping a few of the stringy pieces of fur with the blade of the knife, I removed one of the rib bones and began a careful process. Low-grade undead are incredibly stupid creatures, I¡¯d go as far as to call them inefficient in my old life. The best way I could improve that efficiency was to give them an Animus Core. The rib bone would be carved with crude mana circuits and an extremely rudimentary logic processor. It would increase the rate the minion drew mana, but in exchange improve response to commands and input, as well as decrease passive mana burn. Animus Cores are a way of front-loading the effort of low-level undead, taking longer to raise a single minion, but making each minion marginally more effective. As I carved away at the brittle bone, it repeatedly chipped and cracked under the pressure of the knife, each tiny imperfection lowering its effectiveness. In my frustration, the work became hasty and sloppy, and the blade drew a crimson slit across my left thumb. I cursed under my breath and pressed on, hoping the added blood would strengthen the magic, but I knew blood magic to be as fickle as the wind. The smell of blood and bone, death and decay. Nostalgic. Several minutes later, I completed the framework and sheathed the knife to check and recheck my handiwork. The symmetrical lines of the spellform twisted around the rib in a jagged helix, unprepared materials, and poor tools made it barely better than nothing. Hopefully, it would at least pay some rollover experience if I lived through this to unlock my system access. I carefully replaced the bone into its proper place, as close as I could manage without disturbing any of the other remains. Lying in rest was the closest thing to a complete arrangement I could hope for, but from my spot stooped above the carcass I could already tell some bones were missing. It would have to do. The body was prepped, the circle set, and nothing else could be done to improve the outcome from my own efforts. I¡¯m stalling. I know I¡¯m stalling. I planned out this entire process, and now when it comes to the crucial moment, I was nervous. A lifetime of knowledge and experience is useless if I don¡¯t have the proper affinities in this life. I can sling spells, I know I can. Can I sling my spells though? Can I handle it if I can¡¯t? If I start the ritual and it doesn¡¯t work? This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. I¡¯ll tell you right now. All spellforms are the same. Anyone who says otherwise is a fool and a charlatan. The variance in casting is not the spellform, caster aptitude, affinity with the element, power, and precision can all have wildly different effects on the outcome. The outcome, however, is always the manipulation of mana. Without proper power, you can use a written circle to channel the energy more efficiently. If you lack control, spell chants help focus the mind and speak intent to the mana. Affinity is determined ¡®by the gods¡¯, another way for religious folk to say it varies by person at birth. Magic power and Magic control can be increased by stats and levels, affinity to a specific element can be compensated for by raw stats as well, or finding a more connected element with similar powers. The only thing the system doesn¡¯t make easier? Aptitude. Raw skill. The only thing I had an entire lifetime of backlog for. Give a level 1 kid an archmage¡¯s practical knowledge and things can be a bit easy. [Reanimate Animal] is a fairly straightforward Negative Push spell. Negative here meaning that it deals with noncorporeal concepts, life, and death, not that the spell is evil. Push represents a forceful addition. As an aside, raw wild magic is completely neutral, Positive Magic deals with material and corporeal effects, and Pull is bringing energy from one place to another. Back to the topic at hand, [Reanimate Animal] is a simple enough spell that I could cast directly with my current stats. The only problem with that is efficiency. Even a high-level mage can perform better with more prep time. The spell itself is most common in a Void-attuned form, though I¡¯ve seen some creative applications of plant magic do a similar thing. For my own uses, in order to maximize potency, I¡¯m using the heightened Void element, Abyss. Abyss magic is a secondary element and more difficult to work with, but Abyss necromancy is far more self-sustaining. The addition of a chant and circle would make it more efficient and more potent as well. A sudden thump on my shoulder brought me back to reality, all senses on high alert I whirled to face¡­ dad. His soft but stern gaze dragged me away from a rambling mess of theoretical magical half-thoughts. ¡°We don¡¯t have all day bud. Does it help if I stay nearby?¡± He offered softly, letting my unspoken fears stay unspoken. As much as I would have liked to deny it, his presence was reassuring. I set my jaw, focused my gaze down at the corpse, and began the spell. He¡¯s right, but I have no chance of failure. This is where I belong. I held my hands out in front of me, closed my eyes, and focused hard to shut out all external stimuli. Like meeting an old friend, I felt mana rise up to match my intent. Words I hadn¡¯t spoken in decades now crudely formed on an unfamiliar tongue, gestures and symbols shaky and unrefined without muscle memory. It was invigorating. Like the first cool breath of air after diving a bit too deep in a lake. The familiar sting of new mana channels being burned through my body stopped me from wandering too far into my memory. My new self wasn¡¯t thrumming with pathways and wasn¡¯t as adept physically, but I could correct any mistakes. A different intonation on the same word, a swapped suffix or root, the same spell mechanically could be written and rewritten a thousand times as I channeled it, compensating for any slights. After the first few seconds, [Mana Forming] activated and began passively assisting me. A weight lifted off my shoulders as the spell suddenly felt far less strenuous. Now demanding less focus, I opened my eyes and scanned over my circle with [Mana Sight]. The extra breathing room granted to me by my skills would let me correct even minor hiccups in the circuits of the spellform, only noticeable with close and detailed inspection. Just for good measure, I activated [Mana Command] to circulate my own mana pool as it was drained, hoping to increase the formation of pathways by increasing internal movement. The spell was completed, and I spent several minutes tying off every potential loose connection in the spell before stepping back and looking over my work. 59 points of mana in a single spell, the most I could handle without going into shock. Every possible advantage I could give myself poured into a single minion I would have considered trash for the majority of my lives. With a deep breath and a staggered step, I approached the carcass as new mana rushed into my body. The regeneration was slowed, and each command would slow it further, but I had all morning to get back to full. ¡°Rise¡± I whispered, suddenly keenly aware of dad¡¯s gaze from behind me. He said nothing though, and the bones haphazardly strewn on the forest floor shuddered and rattled, lifting themselves into a cohesive form.
Minion connection established. Bone Wolf (Greater) - Lvl 1.
He¡¯s beautiful. Chapter 14 With the bone wolf now accompanying us, dad and I began a leisurely march back to the village, or more specifically our house. It wouldn¡¯t do for any of the villagers to see my new minion and go running in abject terror, so Daniel offered very politely to range ahead of us. I could have easily had the wolf stay a good range behind us as dad and I walked together, but truthfully I think he was a little unsettled and just wanted the space to think. I appreciate his understanding of my proclivities, but there¡¯s a huge difference between talking about someone doing necromancy and seeing someone do it firsthand. Magic is amoral, and trying to decide which spells are ¡®good¡¯ and which are ¡®evil¡¯ is a fool''s errand. It should be noted though that the colloquial ¡®dark magics¡¯ tend as a whole to make people uncomfortable, which is what led to their group classification in the first place despite being disparate in most cases. All things considered, I was pretty lucky Daniel agreed to my plan in the first place, no need to push him out of his comfort zone. A few times as we walked, I heard the sharp whistle Daniel often used as a signal, coming to a stop and telling the bone wolf to hunker down in the brush. We would wait anxiously, at times for minutes on end, before a repeated whistle came and we continued ever onwards. What took us only thirty minutes that morning, ended up as a nearly hour-long return trip. The uncomfortably slow pace did allow me to regenerate most of my mana pool, but that was the only positive I could find. Our path had us trace a wide ark around the perimeter of the village and approach our house from the outward edge. Neia met us at the back door with a worried look in her eyes, and though she wrapped me in a hug before letting me inside I could feel her apprehension towards my new canine companion. I ushered the bone wolf into the living room while mom and dad took a seat at the table, I didn¡¯t want everyone to feel uncomfortable around him. Side note, my bone wolf will definitely need a name at some point. Assuming I start to keep multiple minions in the place of a normal party, which isn¡¯t strictly necessary. Using species names would still be inefficient. I could already hear mom and dad talking as I wandered back into the kitchen. It was strange for it to be the middle of the day and not have the cookfire lit, but it just made me all the more aware of our more pressing concerns. ¡°I spoke to Leigh this morning while I was in town ¡®shopping¡¯.¡± Neia sighed as I took my seat. ¡°I had hoped there was some misunderstanding, something I¡¯d missed, anything.¡± Mom wiped away a tear and steadied her breathing. ¡°The poor girl nearly melted into a puddle when I told her we wanted to help.¡± Mom mumbled something else, but I couldn¡¯t hear it over the sound of splintering wood. Dad¡¯s white-knuckled grip on our table had shorn off two large chunks, his stat-boosted physicality reducing the wood to splinters. He took a deep breath, and I could have sworn the room rumbled when he stood up. He wrapped mom in a hug, trying to soothe her tender heart. ¡°We¡¯re going to help her Neia. This stops one way or another.¡± The grim tone in his voice wasn¡¯t lost on me. As the two of them mourned Leigh¡¯s heartbreaking home life, I felt it was my best opportunity to speak up. ¡°I will be back to full mana in a few hours I think. The mental stats I have should have granted me a much higher regeneration rate, but I think my lack of full system access is creating an artificial bottleneck. All things considered though, I think we should wait until nightfall. Might be easier to avoid being spotted?¡± My last sentence was framed as a question and I cast my gaze to Daniel, hoping he had more experience on the matter. He nodded back my way with a tense look. ¡°No need to make ourselves miserable all day then.¡± Mom huffed, standing up from the table and clapping her hands together. She waved a hand through the air behind her, and the fire pit of our ceramic stove roared to life, the lingering wood catching instantly. Daniel muttered something about ¡®keeping up appearance¡¯ and stepped out the front door to go on patrol. I figured I might as well use this chance to ask mom about her magic skills, specifically why she hadn¡¯t been using them when I was growing up. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. ¡°Hey, mom?¡± I piped up, getting out of my own chair and joining her in the kitchen proper as she sorted the morning shopping. ¡°That thing you do with the stove and the ¡®woosh¡¯ and your hand? Is that a magic-based skill or is it a spell you know? I can feel the mana, but I don¡¯t remember seeing you do that when I was little¡± She just smiled and gestured me over to wash a pile of carrots. ¡°Most people don¡¯t form spells manually unless it¡¯s related to their class. It takes a lot of theoretical studies to learn the more complex spells.¡± Mom explained to me very gently, taking the washed vegetables whenever I finished one and peeling them into a small bucket of scraps. ¡°One of my general skills is called [Household Magic]¡± She continued, detailing the kinds of abilities it granted her. Lighting small fires, sanitizing water, and minor cleaning were among the primary functions. ¡°At higher levels, it can even be used to heat food, chill liquids, or add flavor. Chef classes have far more specialized skills though.¡± Frankly, I still don¡¯t see the appeal of the skill. Anyone with a decent class would outperform it by picking up a single more specific skill. Though recalling my mother¡¯s class list she was highly specialized at every turn, and her precious class slots likely couldn¡¯t warrant such a choice. It also had a certain appeal when I consider all the neighboring villagers with classes like [Farmer] or [Rancher]. Their classes likely didn¡¯t give them access to such skill choices as to replace household magic. Neia must have noticed me getting lost in my thoughts again, as she let out a small laugh and drew my attention back to the current moment. ¡°You get this look on your face when you think about magic. Sorry, it¡¯s just too cute¡± She smiled, pinching my cheek rather forcefully as I tried to skirt away. ¡°At a certain point though Sweetpea, you¡¯ll take your own magic for granted.¡± Mom began another lecture. ¡°Not everyone will have the skills, or [Skills], that you do. Spend some of that thinking energy and spare a thought for everyone else, and you¡¯ll go a long way.¡± Her tone was gentle, but I felt like there was more context than she let on. I¡¯d grown used to cryptic half-stories at this point, mom had potentially centuries of life before my birth, let alone meeting dad. There were likely to be some experiences she wanted me to learn from even if she didn¡¯t want to discuss them. Over the course of the morning, mother and I shared some comfortable small talk as best we could manage with the looming dread. We spent most of the time standing in the kitchen, prepping food for lunch and dinner, getting the majority of the work out of the way, and giving us something less exhausting to think about. I¡¯m not sure how we got on the topic but at some point mom and I were discussing skills, capital S, and the remaining general skill slots I had. ¡°Have you thought about what you want to do with the last seven slots? I haven¡¯t been pushing you to pick up skills, but the sooner you can earn levels in them the better. A lot of kids underestimate rollover xp you know.¡± Mom began her casual droning explanation, more a lecture than a conversation. I know she means well, but still, it can be incredibly boring to listen to. Frankly, I did have ideas about what to get with my remaining seven slots. I plan to train with dad for two skills in the vein of [Combat Maneuvers], even just [Dodge] or [Evasion] could go a long way to keeping me safe. A physical buff like [Athletics] could be good as well. Similarly, training with Leigh could help me qualify for a crafting skill. Nothing too specific, but a general [Craftsmanship] or [Tool Profeciency] could pay dividends in the long run if I need to imbue items or enchant weapons. I have two slots earmarked for those. The remaining three slots are a bit of a toss up though. Ideally, I would like something magic related. Mom could probably help me in that regard. However, in my first life, I drastically overlooked utility skills, so getting feedback from Neia and Daniel, perhaps even Leigh, about good utility skills for everyday life or non-magic-related scenarios could be enlightening. I¡¯m sure any slots I don¡¯t fill out mom will choose for me anyway. I¡¯d rather not get saddled with another [Cutie Patootie] skill. Chapter 15 Mother and I shared a quaint and quiet lunch together, Daniel must have elected not to come back for midday¡¯s meal. He could be like that when he was upset, running through the forest around the village like he could sweat out his anger. He stomped his way back inside just before sundown, wiping himself down with one of mother¡¯s good towels before he stepped too deep indoors. Dad groaned in protest when mother insisted he wash up properly before dinner, but went about it without delay. His grim demeanor lessened slightly when we sat at a table of roast beef and stewed vegetables. A shared favorite. We sat in silence for much longer than I would have liked before the cold and dark began to seep into the windows. The food would not last forever though, and neither would father¡¯s patience. ¡°I made a stop in the village earlier. No one¡¯s seen Leigh since yesterday. Must be shut up inside.¡± He grumbled out, a barely restrained fury boiling in his throat. Dad was furious, mom was heartbroken, and we all just wanted this to end. For Leigh to be safe. For things to be under control. ¡°We have to do this tonight. It¡¯s doing nobody any good just sitting around worrying about it.¡± I explained, having finished my food. ¡°We come up with a plan, we make sure Leigh is staying with us tonight at least, and we don¡¯t give her dad any chances to hurt her. Ever again.¡± Truthfully, this situation bothered me as much if not more as it seemed to bother mom and dad. We all loved Leigh, she¡¯s a kind person that always seems to know just how to light up a room like a forge fire. She¡¯s my friend though, my closest peer in this new life, even if I have memories to complicate things a bit. The more I think about what she¡¯s had to go through, suffer through until now the more my blood feels like it¡¯s boiling. No one deserves that, Least of all the people I care about. ¡°You¡¯re right. We don¡¯t have much time left so we need to decide how we¡¯re going to do this.¡± Dad sighed, setting aside his dirty bowl and leaning against the table. I could tell we both wanted to be quick, so I wasted no time breaking down my ideas for him. I was eager to get every ounce of potential feedback I could, to ensure as little went wrong as we could feasibly manage. Dad made some good points, and between the two of us, there were many things neither would ever consider on our own. Shortly after sundown, when the town would usually finish closing up for the night with windows shuddered and hearths lit, we stepped into the cold air together. Ready to perform our grim task. I pulled a borrowed cloak tight around my shoulders, shutting out the cold and familiarizing myself with its weight. I beckoned bonewolf out of the closed-off bedroom, and he joined us outside silently. Daniel and I had gone over the plan three times, making sure we wouldn¡¯t need to talk with each other once we started. It allowed us to silently nod to each other, and set off towards the village square. Like we had already done during our trip to the forest, Dad snuck ahead of us to act as a scout. He¡¯d call out with a sharp whistle whenever we needed to stop, and repeat the signal again to proceed. Most of the time I had no idea what we were avoiding, but if Dad could see something that concerned him I was willing to follow his instincts. A decade or more of making this same trip during the day now meant my body reacted on its own to the small dips and bumps in the landscape. The path from our house into the village was ingrained in my muscles so deeply that I felt I could see it when I closed my eyes. I didn¡¯t have the stats or skills to overcome the darkness of the night and relied on this instinct greatly, I briefly considered asking mother for a vision buff skill tomorrow before refocusing my mind. It wouldn¡¯t serve to be distracted at this critical moment. Daniel crept along almost silently, my comparatively much clumsier footsteps combined with bonewolf¡¯s clicking and rattling made us far more noticeable than I would have liked. Thankfully, there was no one around to notice us in the first place, the entirety of the town militia¡¯s command ¡®patrolling¡¯ some two dozen feet ahead of me, the rest asleep in their homes. We made it to the edge of the village without having to stop too many times, and our path to Leigh¡¯s house was thankfully short. We only stopped once, though it felt like ages, and when dad called out to resume it took but a moment for us to reach our goal. We stopped in the shadow of the partially rebuilt forge, I could already hear Leigh¡¯s dad snoring heavily through the thin walls he¡¯d neglected to fully patch. Dad slid into position by the door, pressing as close to the wall as he could manage without making the old timbers creak. Bonewolf and I took position right behind him. Once things started, everything was going to happen fast, I took a deep breath to steady myself and nodded to dad that I was ready. He shoved the door with his stat-boosted physicality and the lock snapped. Dad vanished in a rush of air pressure as his speed carried him into the house at a near-dangerous velocity. I¡¯d seen dad move fast before of course, but I¡¯d never been this close to him when he did. It was striking. For a moment it reminds me of doing combat with Vincent Gildea by my side. This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. For my own sake, I hurried in behind him while letting bonewolf take the lead. I could already hear Mr. Kisgrick, Leigh¡¯s dad, stirring from a no doubt booze-fueled slumber. Even in his addled state, a high-level blacksmith would still be incredibly dangerous if he decided to hurt me, so I hurried as best I could and hoped for dad to do the same getting Leigh outside. A tiny muffled yelp a moment later let me know he¡¯d found her, her father¡¯s mumbled obscenities of confusion told me he was awoken by the same move. Now or never. I didn¡¯t have time to draw out a full spell circle, but if I was quick with a chant and some more efficient gestures, I could up the power of a spell a little bit. For the second time in twenty-four hours, familiar words filled my mouth, forming with effort in a new body as I parsed each syllable for a spell not yet cast. Every simple spell I did would become progressively easier as I rebuilt my muscle memory, but niche and uncommon spells would likely feel stiff and strange for some time. [Aura of Dread] was weak with such little mana to work with, but it would have to do. When the spell finished I pulled the cloak tight around my shoulders, making sure it wouldn¡¯t come off, and stood to my full height. No more sneaking and skulking. Striding confidently through the house, I motioned Bonewolf to stay at my heels, the shadows and flowing cloak partially obscuring them. Wrapped in shadow and fear, I could already feel the spell twisting around me. Obscuring my features and lengthening the darkness to unsettle and terrify. At some point Daniel stepped back inside, likely having deposited Leigh somewhere safe. His backup would only be needed if the plan failed and he felt I was in danger. Everything else was on me. I walked towards the only door that could lead to the single bedroom. A curtain dividing an empty threshold from the rest of the house, and likely the forge on the other side. I could hear someone stirring on the other side and knew what I had to do. I gestured Bonewolf forward, pushing the curtain to the side and tearing the thin fabric with the jagged edges of his cracked spine. In the darkness, the dark purple embers that served as my minion¡¯s eyes seemed to gleam in those empty sockets. ¡°What the fuhg?¡± Mr. Kisgrick slurred as I stepped into view, careful with steps in an attempt to glide smoothly across the floor. My cloak drug behind me slowly, silently, occasionally shifting in the night breeze as if alive itself. Bonewolf growled, having no lips to draw back in snarl the beast only let out a low rattling of bones. The fear aura was filling the room, I could feel it. Kisgrick¡¯s eyes went wide as I stared at the man. I don¡¯t know how I appeared to him, but the shudder that rippled through his body told me everything I needed to know. Being half drunk and half asleep likely made my spell take a deeper root in his mind than I¡¯d originally estimated. Small victories. ¡°Logga Kisgrick¡± I broke the silence, making my voice as low and echoey as I could manage physically and counting on the spell to do the rest. ¡°You have disgraced the memory of your wife, and in her death harmed that which she loved most. Your daughter.¡± I could see the look of confusion spread across his face, he recognized what I was saying, but not who I was. Bonewolf stepped further, his teeth glinting in the dark. ¡°In the name of your wife, I have come to end her final torment so that she may rest. I would claim your soul now if not for her love for you¡± I spit at the man, barely able to stand being in his presence this long. A rush of wind came from behind me, billowing the cloak deeply and drawing a thin cut deep along Logga¡¯s face. Likely a skill of dad¡¯s or some move he¡¯d practiced. Thankfully Logga seemed to be a superstitious man, and the pain on his face was quickly sobering him. ¡°Thank you. Thank my Nora for me when next you see her?¡± He mumbled, a familiar pang of hurt in his tone as he dropped to his knees in shock. ¡°If you¡¯re not going to- to kill me. What would you have me do?¡± Kisgrick stammered. ¡°Listen well. You will have one chance and one chance only. I will not repeat myself.¡± I stepped towards the broken man, disgust filling me as he shrunk further to the floor. ¡°You will leave this village. If you ever return, you will die. If you ever harm your daughter or bring harm to her again, you will die. You will run, and you will never look back. Disobey me, and your final moments will be painful. Am I clear?¡± When he stammered some noncommittal response, I felt a fury I can¡¯t fully describe. ¡°Am I clear?¡± I bellowed, my emotions getting the better of me for the first time tonight. The house around us seemed to rumble in response to my anger, and I decided to thank dad for his theatrics when we got home. The charade worked well enough, and the failure of a father scrambled to his feet to begin packing a few essentials. I gave him only a few moments to collect himself, considering it my final courtesy to a man I¡¯d once respected. When I was content, I gave bonewolf orders to follow him out of town, increasing the pace whenever the man got lazy. A night run ragged might do him some good. It was more than he deserved. Pain should be metted back ten fold. Chapter 16 No one slept well that night. Father and I didn¡¯t go home immediately, instead patrolling the edges of the town in case Logga got some wise ideas after bonewolf trotted back through the fog. We never saw even the slightest hint of his presence though, and eventually made our way back shortly before dawn. I¡¯m sure mom and Leigh were putting their time together to good use. I can¡¯t imagine how it must feel. I never knew my parents the first time around, and the idea of losing either stings, but to lose your mother and watch your father crumble like that. I¡¯m not sure if I¡¯ll ever fully understand what Leigh felt. Thankfully I don¡¯t have to understand to try and help. In the following days after driving Mr. Kisgrick out of town, things were quiet and tense as my freshly expanded family came to grips with our new normal. The morning after the original confrontation, we returned to Leigh¡¯s house to gather her things. No one had said it expressly, but we all knew Leigh would be coming to stay with us as long as she wanted to. Leaving her alone in her father''s house felt cruel. What I had apparently failed to predict, was the change of routine that came about as a result of Leigh living with us. Since our house effectively only had three rooms and a storage cellar, there wasn¡¯t much room for Leigh to move into. Mom and dad had a bedroom, I had a small room to myself, and there was a single room that served multifunction as a kitchen, dining room, and living room. In a sense when we didn¡¯t use the well water to wash outside, the small washbasin in the corner also made it the bathroom. Thankfully for my more modern sensibilities, we did at least have an outhouse dug far enough away for some privacy, even if the lack of more magical convenience was grating. The solution we came to? Leigh would be moving into my old room, and for the time being, I would sleep with the food in the cellar. It was the only other insulated space and marginally better than sleeping outdoors. A small price to pay for her comfort and safety I suppose. On the bright side, I did get to see Leigh far more frequently, and our occasionally shared meals became a daily occurrence. ¡°Good morning¡± I mumbled, stepping through the exterior door having just crawled up the stairs from the cellar. As cool as it could get down there at night, there was a calming effect to it. Perhaps my natural affinity to dark and dreary spaces carried over from my previous life? ¡°Good morning Vincent!¡± Leigh would inevitably greet me, shortly before mother did the same. ¡°Good morning sleepyhead, you actually managed to beat your father to the table this morning¡± Mom smiled, gesturing to the empty chair at the head of the arrangement. This kind of morning routine was quickly becoming normal, comforting even. Far less comfortable were the revelations that came with it. First, and perhaps primarily, was the system. Without her parents around, there was no one around to do the parental override for Leigh. She¡¯d be stuck with the skills she currently had until her system unlock day. Depending on when hers was, this could be potentially concerning, but mom insisted I shouldn¡¯t be the one to ask her about it. Something about ¡®lady¡¯s secrets¡¯ that I still don¡¯t understand. Neia gets fussy about anything involving age. ¡°Leigh, sweetie¡± Mom began one morning. She¡¯d always used affectionate nicknames with Leigh before, but more so now it made her feel like a part of the family. I liked it. ¡°Daniel and I have a plan together for Vincent¡¯s system unlock day, though we still have a few years on that front. I¡¯d hate for you to miss out on one of the most special days of your childhood just because of some unpleasant business. Do you want us to throw a party for you as well?¡± Neia offered softly. Her hands idly chopping and peeling vegetables a few feet away, she made it feel as if there was no pressure to the question, associating it with the mundane house chore. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°Oh, uhm, I don¡¯t want to intrude anymo-¡± Leigh began to make excuses before Dad groggily sauntered his way out of the master bedroom, aligning his shirt into a more presentable state. ¡°Nonsense! As long as you¡¯re living here with us that makes you family, and no daughter of mine is going to have to shirk and shy away from anything.¡± He explained, sitting down at the table and forcing a chair to groan under the weight of his system-enhanced physicality. ¡°Tell us what you want to do and we can do it, but you have to say it proud. Back straight and say it like you mean it!¡± He laughed, encouraging her with a lighthearted smile. Leigh only blushed, her freckled cheeks slowly burnishing a red to rival her frazzled morning hair. Gods above, I can¡¯t seem to take my eyes off her lately. Then she looks at me and suddenly I can¡¯t match her gaze. What¡¯s wrong with me?! She¡¯s my friend, why do I have to keep making it so weird? ¡°I¡¯d like to have a party?¡± Leigh eventually chimed in, her voice still light and her tone more of a question. Dad claimed it was an issue with confidence, something about residual fear. He¡¯d seen it before and claimed the only thing we could do about it was give her time and be there for her. I had my own theories of course, but all the treatments I knew of for post-traumatic stress involved very high-level spell work I was neither comfortable revealing to nor casting on, Leigh. ¡°Great then! When¡¯s your system unlock?¡± Mom asked, carrying the conversation forward as I stayed lost in thought. ¡°Six ¡­?¡± Leigh mumbled. ¡°Oh, that¡¯s not too bad, I knew some Elves who didn¡¯t get system access well into their early thirties. For a girl with dwarf in her blood twenty-four isn¡¯t bad¡± Mom smiled, cocking an eyebrow as Leigh blushed only deeper. ¡°No Ma¡¯am. I said six months¡± That was the first problem. Leigh was getting her system before me. TWO full years before me. So of course, mom and dad were all abuzz with congratulating her, and decided then and there to start planning a party right away. The second problem came after. I had started spending much more time with Leigh over the past few days, and it would only increase in the coming weeks. I couldn¡¯t keep getting so completely flustered around her. The smallest gestures and movements she made would be completely distracting. A smile, a laugh, the way she furrowed her eyebrows whenever she focused on something. I wouldn¡¯t have noticed something like that before, and even now it felt strange to me. To consider her as fondly as I do, with the memories of my past self still haunting me. There was a philosophical question there I could not grapple with. Andras Grigori had died. Will die? Will have had died? It occurs in the future but is sequentially previous to my current point of view. Could I really claim that I was him? I¡¯d like to. I remember being, will have had being(?), Andras. I thought of myself as similar at least. However, Andras didn¡¯t have my ¡®new¡¯ memories, inhabited a completely different body, and a completely different time period. In much the same way as a clone spell would generate a new duplicate, my own had been reforged. Was it more apt to consider myself a successor than a continuation? Did it matter either way? Could any answer I come to really change anything? I doubt it. If I¡¯m honest with myself it shouldn¡¯t matter. I know what happened in my memories, in that last life, and I want to avoid it happening again. If I avoid letting myself have friends because of it, then the outcome is the same but for a different reason. I need to focus on Leigh¡¯s party instead. Chapter 17 16 years The months following Leigh¡¯s revelation of her early system unlock were hectic, to say the least. Mom and Leigh made a short trip to the next town over, passing through our nearest neighbors, It was still technically a village, but only barely. They had an inn, and a few shops, but even the ¡®fabric seller¡¯ as mother had called it was a dual-purpose tailor and leatherworker. Even still, the point was made to spare no expense for such a momentous occasion. Thankfully, I¡¯m not in charge of the house finances, if we even have any this far in the countryside, so it¡¯s not something I need to worry about. Neia was rather insistent about making Leigh¡¯s dress for the party herself I¡¯d initially thought it was to avoid making the trip out of town multiple times. The more I thought about it though, and the more I watched the two of them discussing it, I think now it¡¯s more about making Leigh feel at home. I knew we all thought of her as family, but I couldn¡¯t as easily claim that Leigh knew that herself. Honestly, with Mom and Leigh so completely preoccupied with preparations, everything from clothes to concessions, dad and I finally had a chance to go on another ¡®patrol¡¯ and discuss what happened a few weeks ago. It took me asking him to train me to get his agreement, but that killed two birds with one stone so to speak. I already wanted his help to gain some skills. We were in the middle of another ¡®jog¡¯ through the forest. I was at a rather brisk pace, and it felt like dad was keeping up by taking a more forceful walking stride. It was good exercise for me, I feel he might have been bored. ¡°Hey, dad? Can we take a break?¡± I panted out through gasping breaths after the first hour or so. ¡°Yeah bud, of course,¡± Dad smiled, coming to a complete halt almost instantly, leaning against a nearby tree. He clearly didn¡¯t need the rest, but it made me feel less self-conscious about taking a seat myself. ¡°I appreciate you helping me train, but I¡¯ve been thinking.¡± I managed to gasp out a few words after slowly recovering my breath. ¡°Could we do this more often? Even after the skills, I mean.¡± I could feel dad looking over at me, and glancing his way there was a look in his eyes. Like he knew what I wanted to ask, but still wanted to hear me say it. ¡°I want to do patrols.¡± I sighed after an awkwardly long silence. ¡°I don¡¯t know if that counts as ¡®joining the militia¡¯ since you¡¯re the only other member, but I want to help.¡± I tried to make my statement as firm and resolute as I could manage. ¡°I¡¯ll admit, Vincent, I like your nerve. Patrols might not be too dangerous if you stuck with me, but without system access, and without stat boosts, if I asked you to make a delivery to the next town over, you¡¯d be in massive danger running into anything bigger than a fox¡± Dad sighed, wiping a hand across his brow. ¡°Your mother would be furious if I let anything happen to you.¡± The feelings of despair and defeat were quickly building in my chest. ¡°So I guess I¡¯ll just have to stick close to you and make sure that doesn¡¯t happen¡± Dad laughed, clearly enjoying my moment of false misery. A weight lifted off my shoulder, and I slumped backward suddenly, suddenly aware of a tension in my body. Dad only laughed harder. ¡°Don¡¯t do that to me¡± I protested with a smile, but he just waved off my complaints. ¡°Come on! after seeing you go toe to toe with a drake, I¡¯m more worried about you giving yourself mana burns again. Anything native to this part of the country would be in more danger crossing you than I could see you being in¡± Dad explained, sitting down across from me to continue our conversation. ¡°The biggest danger to you is a creature that could react faster than you could cast a spell. So we¡¯ll keep training, and you¡¯ll have to stick with me while on militia duty¡± Dad instructed me, suddenly taking on a far more professional and stern tone. ¡°After the party in a few weeks, you and I can make a trip south. There¡¯s a little port town just about a week and a half if we walk, called Arden. I¡¯ve only been once or twice, but they have some good craftsmen, we¡¯ll get you some leather padding to spar in.¡± Daniel seemed more prepared for my question than even I had been. I wonder how long he¡¯d been waiting for me to ask him? Part of me felt bad for always spending more time helping mom, but he made a good point about the danger. Maybe I just needed to be a bit older to do the things he wanted me to. Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. ¡°That sounds great!¡± I replied, unable to hide the excitement in my voice. I was looking forward to new skills and a chance to get a bit further than the village outskirts. It was a win-win for me, gathering more information about the surrounding area at this point in history, but also having a chance to be a bit more independent. Leigh¡¯s great, more than great, but having her around all the time doesn¡¯t leave me much room for privacy or my own interests. I don¡¯t want some of my spells scaring her off. On her own, Leigh was very quickly becoming more and more a permanent facet of our family, her shy and reserved demeanor fading more with each day as we drew closer to the party. I wasn¡¯t sure if the subtle relaxation after the end of her abuse at her father''s hands, or a gentle encouragement from mom and dad was responsible for this change. I just knew that It was a long time coming. The energetic and chaotic little girl I had grown up beside was quickly coming back into my life. It was tiresome in the best way possible. The fearsome friend I¡¯d once likened to the fires of a forge had been metaphorically relit, I hadn¡¯t realized just how much I¡¯d missed her. Soon enough, all our preparations were done, and nothing left that we could really prepare ahead of time, just waiting and whiling away the days. Leigh began some preparations of her own, likely aiming for a specific class line or class upgrade. Dad and I helped her knock down any of the remaining structures of her old home that weren¡¯t forge or workshop related. Once the building was back down to its bare bones, Leigh began cleaning out her father¡¯s old tools. There was a fire in her as I helped stack old hammers and chisels into the crates she was planning to discard. She had tools of her own of course, but it was incredibly clear that selling her father''s things to expand her own set would be more welcome than keeping any of the heirlooms. The sentiment had been tainted I suppose. It took nearly a month of short trips back and forth to surrounding craftsmen before we managed to sell off everything Logga left behind. Altogether it was an underwhelming sum, but Neia had used to opportunity to teach Leigh and me about money. The standards of minting hadn¡¯t changed much since I remembered them, or rather, will not have been changed? Most countries and regions used the same precious metals to mint their coins, the weight being somewhat standard, with shapes and imprints being the primary means of combating counterfeit. Our region, Ocresh, wasn¡¯t formally a nation yet, but apparently, there had been some talks to give rise to a constitution and formal government. For the time, Ocresh, most of the western wilds, and the merchant cities on its coasts and rivers were ruled by a series of merchant princes. Catastrophically wealthy men and women, who often owned entire cities, ruling like kings off the power of their fortunes. This meant each city can and do mint their own coins, and most people do their day-to-day trade regardless of who the coin was made by. Leigh¡¯s entire inheritance could be summed up in three shiny coins, one of sparkling Mithral, and the other two a dull green Adamant. The standard of course is the gold coin, and fractions and multiples are represented by others. A Mithral coin is worth five gold, and an Adamant is worth two, Together the three coins were worth nine gold, or just shy of a platinum coin. I¡¯d honestly been surprised to hear these numbers, as I¡¯d half expected Leigh to be dealing in Silver and Copper coins when I first heard her plan. A pleasant surprise I suppose. Once she had her money, Dad and I were forcefully conscripted into being errand boys. ¡°I have way too much work to do here to waste time running down tools¡± Leigh grunted between swings of her hammer, beating some red-hot shape into an ingot fresh from the forge. Her strength even without system access clearly dwarfed mine. No pun intended. ¡°Mom, uh, Neia, helped me draft up a list last night.¡± Leigh stammered, sticking the rod of steel back into the heat and turning to face Daniel and me. ¡°It has everything I need on it, and the absolute maximum price you¡¯re allowed to pay¡± She explained, handing me a charcoal-smeared scrap of parchment. I think I blushed a bit too obviously when her hand brushed against mine. ¡°If I want to get this done in time for System Day, I need you to get those as soon as possible. Marnock village may have it all, but if you have to go through to Orkirk, that should be fine. Just, hurry, please?¡± She asked, walking back to the forge and turning with a smile. Gods, what I wouldn¡¯t do for that smile. Chapter 18 Once Leigh had the proper tools in hand, things took off at a full clip, project after project poured through her forge. As her skeptical apprentice, I was required to be there for all of it. Watching, learning, and trying to grasp whatever system information I could manage from the displays in front of me. To her credit, Leigh was incredibly creative with the kind of things she wanted to make in the forge. We shaped bits of armor, shoulder pads and gauntlets, tiny blades to medium-sized swords, and horseshoes, so many horseshoes. Eventually, Leigh ran out of ore and stock left behind by her father and started melting down other projects to rework them and wring out as much experience from the metal before it was unusable. I admire her dedication, but I genuinely wish I didn¡¯t have to work through the heat alongside her. My thin body seemed to produce buckets of sweat every day, while Leigh, despite being twice my size (in total volume, not height), was only noticeably damp at worst. Several times I would beg for a break from the fires, just to walk to the nearby stream and wash up. I¡¯ll be the first to admit my breaks probably took longer than they strictly had to, but it was always disheartening to come back and see Leigh toiling away as if nothing happened. Her drive seems almost inexhaustible. ¡°Vinny!¡± Leigh screamed through the forge, her new nickname for me grating on my ears slightly, still, it stung less than my full name. ¡°Can you come here please?¡± Her harsh command was suddenly undercut by the sweetest voice I knew. With a sigh, I hauled myself off the bucket I¡¯d co opted as a stool. My muscles groaned in protest as I stood stiff and shuffled over towards her. ¡°Yeah? What¡¯s up?¡± I asked as gently as I could, trying to hide the very brutal discomfort my body had built up. I had to wonder if Leigh had some innate vitality bonus, or if one of her skills was providing some kind of passive stamina increase. ¡°I just finished the rough shaping on these, and I want to fit them before I start any polishing or trying out my new skill¡± She explained as I walked over. She held in her hand a pair of riveted bracers. They weren¡¯t fully metal, and thus not rigid enough to constrict my hands or weigh me down in any meaningful way. Yet at the same time, the plates of steel attached to the sturdy leather arm guards helped protect a mage¡¯s most valuable asset. My hands. It was an incredibly heartfelt gift, more so when I considered Leigh was taking time out of her class prep to make something for me. Yes, there was a chance it was using her skills anyway and killed two birds with one stone, but my fondness for her lent a certain sentimental outlook all the same. I slid the arm guards over my wrists. Somehow it was both too tight and too loose. The metal rivets in the plates had them set too close together, and it constrained against my wrists. At the same time, however, there was too much leather for my small arms and it bunched awkwardly in a few different places. ¡°Turn your hands over for me?¡± Leigh instructed, flipping my hands and inspecting a few different spots. As her hands touched mine, I could feel the heat in my cheeks meld with the heat of the forge. She stuck her tongue about a half inch out of her mouth, pondering very carefully while making deft marks along the armor with a bit of charcoal. Just as quickly as she had given them to me, the bracers were stripped from my arms. ¡°I¡¯ll get these fixed up in the next pass¡± She mumbled, dropping them on her workbench and meticulously removing individual rivets. I wasn¡¯t sure if there was anything I could do to help at that point, so I slowly wandered back to the house. Leigh had spent weeks at this, and there were still more than three months before her system unlock day. I thought by this point I¡¯d probably learned everything I could until she got a higher class. With nothing else better to do between training sessions with dad, I put my full focus into practicing what I¡¯d already learned. I tinkered on minor projects of my own, borrowing Leigh¡¯s tools frequently, and even began sparring matches with Dad after we carved a few training swords. He had to hold back tremendously, and could still beat me with one arm behind his back and both his eyes closed, but I felt I was making progress. The more I practiced, the more the knowledge began to engrain itself into me, and the more I built up muscle memory. Eventually, I was satisfied that I¡¯d long since qualified for the skills I was after, and sat down with mom early in the morning to go over my plans. ¡°Mom, can you do another override for me? I want to fill out some more of my skill slots.¡± I explained, taking a seat in the main room shortly after dad left on patrol. Leigh had left before anyone else to get an early start at the workshop. These days it felt like she was only home to sleep. ¡°Yeah, of course, sugar, let me just wash up and we can go over it right now¡± Mom smiled, taking a linen towel from the cupboard and walking over to the washbasin. When she finally made her way over and sat down to join me, I could feel an anxious energy building in my veins. Nervous excitement. Neia closed her eyes, and softly focused on me. I felt the pressure of the system override wash over me in a familiar fashion. ¡°Okay Vincent, you¡¯ve got most of your slots left, and a lot of skills you¡¯ve qualified for. Do you want me to read them all to you or did you have something in mind you already wanted?¡± She softly asked me. Thankfully, I did already have a few ideas in mind for what I wanted to pick up. I explained the general Ideas I had to mom. ¡°Can you read over any skills that fit into those categories for me? There should be several, but if not I need to keep training harder.¡± She paused for a tense moment, the silence deafening before she began to read out options to me. ¡°Okay, so you didn¡¯t have [Evasion] sweetie-pie, but I see one in here called [Combat Footwork]. It says ¡®increases speed and agility in combat. Assists with dodging and maneuvering.¡¯ That seems a bit more general than [Evasion] specifically, is that one you want?¡± Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. I had to think about it for a moment, but the more I considered the individual uses between the two skills, the more I saw applications of a general skill that a more specific one wouldn¡¯t meet. ¡°Sure mom, that¡¯d be great. What about the other combat skills I asked about?¡± I answered. ¡°Well, you can get [Keen Senses] for sure, I saw that one earlier, I¡¯ll check on the others now.¡± Neia said, dropping back into her gentle silence. I knew my training with dad should get me some kind of weapon skills, as general as possible if I¡¯m lucky, and studying with mom should result in some kind of mental fortitude buff. I just wouldn¡¯t know the specific skill names unless I consulted a system expert, and even then it was only the most likely choices. ¡°Okay, yeah, I see [Weapon Proficiency] and [Concentration]. The first one improves familiarity and skill with different weapons and doesn¡¯t say anything about weapon type. Concentration is just a passive focus increase. Yes or no?¡± I nodded my consent and we moved on to crafting skills. I qualified handily for the [Tool Proficiency] skill Leigh had told me about, though I was surprised to see [Mana Crafting], since I hadn¡¯t heard of that skill except for a few rare classes in my previous life. Once I picked those two out, I was down to a single open slot and resigned myself to letting mom pick that one out again. ¡°Oh! I actually had something in mind for that.¡± she chirped up when I told her about it. ¡°I know you struggle to get along with the other kids your age, and while you might have a good reason for some of them, a young man needs friends, right? Well, how can I expect my boy to do something like that when he has below-average charisma stats?¡± Neia explained, painting a picture of her thought process. ¡°Simple! You need a charisma-boosting skill. So I want you to take [Charm], but I know the last skill I picked out bothered you a little bit, so I don¡¯t want to choose it unless you say it¡¯s okay¡± She added at the end, pouting a bit more than I could handle. I had been a bit upset when mom first chose [Cutie Patootie] as a skill, but I hadn¡¯t realized how much my reaction had bothered her. I had been upset with mom when she claimed one of my class skill slots rather forcefully. It underlined an issue that first reared its head when she read my memories of my past life. She didn¡¯t ask before doing things. ¡°Yeah mom, that sounds really nice¡± I said, smiling a bit wider than I would have normally, trying to placate the situation. ¡°I wasn¡¯t angry with you or anything like that¡± I sighed, watching as Neia lifted her shoulders faintly. ¡°I just felt a little ignored is all?¡± I suggested, unsure how to word my complaint. ¡°Just with the skill, and when you read my memories, everything seemed so decided before I even knew about it.¡± I explained, keeping my tone as cordial as I could manage. ¡°Part of me is glad you did it, it took a heavy decision off my shoulders, but it wasn¡¯t your decision to make. I know I¡¯m young in my body, but you¡¯ve seen well enough to know¡­¡± I trailed off, picking my gaze up from the floor to look in mom¡¯s eyes. She was crying softly, barely holding herself back. I got up and walked over to her, gently wrapping her in a hug. ¡°I¡¯m sorry¡± She sobbed faintly. ¡°When you were born you didn¡¯t cry, at all, I was so worried, and I wasn¡¯t sleeping, I tried everything I could¡± mom began rambling. ¡°I was just so worried about you.¡± I held onto her softly and let her cry. I knew her intentions had been good, so I never blamed her fully, but I wasn¡¯t expecting her to blame herself so harshly. We stayed there in silence for a while, letting her gather her composure as we poured our hearts out. Then mom took the time to write out my new status for me, all my skill slots finally full, and a gentle countdown until my system unlock day.
Name: Vincent Stesk Strength: 10 Classes: Half-Elf Child lvl 1
Hp: 20 Vitality: 10
Mp: 60 Agility: 10
Active Class: Half-Elf Child Intelligence: 50
Charisma: 5
Willpower: 100
General Skills: Class Skills: Half-Elf Child
Mana Sight - lvl 5 Weapon Proficiency - lvl 1 Obsessive Mind - lvl 1
Mana Forming - lvl 5 Tool Proficiency - lvl 1 Energetic Soul - lvl 1
Mana Command - lvl 5 Mana Crafting - lvl 1 Inquisitive Spirit - lvl 1
Combat Footwork - lvl 1 Concentration - lvl 1 Rapid Acquisition - lvl 1
Keen Senses - lvl 1 Charm - lvl 1 Cutie Patootie - lvl 1
Chapter 19 Countdown to Leigh¡¯s system unlock day The day of Leigh¡¯s system unlock came around faster than I expected, it went from several months away to suddenly being just around the corner. My perception of time had become muddled as I focused all my attention on my new skills, and constructing a gift for Leigh¡¯s party. Gifts weren¡¯t strictly a requirement on system unlock days, though they usually fell on birthdays and it was fairly expected for families to give gifts as normal. Leigh was part of my family now, and I wanted to give her something special. Since I now had access to both [Tool Proficiency] and [Mana Crafting], I needed to get some practice time in to familiarize myself with the skills. The worst part was, if I wanted Leigh¡¯s gift to be a surprise, I couldn¡¯t ask her for help. She¡¯s had tool proficiency for years now, but I¡¯d have to figure it out on my own. It took some rather creative begging to convince dad to take me with him on one of his delivery runs to the nearest city. I¡¯d recently learned it was called Alberack. Dad agreed, though begrudgingly, and mother made him promise that nothing would happen while we were gone. He swore to protect me, and I swore to listen to his orders if we got into trouble. None of that was important. Alberack was my only chance to get my hands on some tools of my own without Leigh finding out. Anyone I asked back home could have potentially gotten word back to her eventually. I needed to keep things as segmented as possible to maintain the surprise. Plus, a trip with dad for some Militia practice made the whole thing a win-win for me. We packed up light, and dad made me leave bonewolf behind. I could understand not wanting to keep him hidden once we arrived, but the further I got from my only minion the more I felt uneasy. The trip to Alberack would only take three days if we kept a good pace, five at the latest, but even then that was plenty of time for something to go wrong and I would have just preferred to have some backup. The trip was relatively safe though, and for the most part uneventful. After a few short jaunts like this, I started getting used to camping rough in the wilderness. Dad had me start taking a watch shift this time though, and only sleeping for a few hours at a time was brutal. The fatigue was certainly catching up to me by day three. I¡¯ll be the first to admit, I probably wasn¡¯t paying as much attention as I should have been. My focus was marred by growing fatigue as father and I slowly followed the forest trail westward. I nearly stumbled off my feet when Daniel grabbed my shoulder and brought me to an abrupt halt. ¡°Eyes up boy, look out just there¡± Dad whispered, pointing with the end of his spear to a small stream of smoke rising in the distance. ¡°We¡¯re too far from Alberack to be seeing chimney plumes already, and that¡¯s far too concentrated. Someone¡¯s made camp out here¡± He explained softly, making sure I knew what to look for. ¡°If this were a personal trip, I¡¯d suggest we avoid them and just press on, but this is part of your training now. So, what do you think it is and what should we do about it? I want a full sitrep¡± Dad ordered, effortlessly slipping into his soldier persona over the course of a few sentences. I thought about all the different possibilities, things dad had discussed with me, and things I remembered from my first life. A momentary silence drew out between us as I pondered, but eventually, I had all my thoughts organized. A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. ¡°I don¡¯t think there¡¯s any immediate danger. If the fire was being used as a signal, the smoke would be more irregular. Also, if combat was going on this close, we¡¯d likely hear it by now.¡± I began to explain, watching father¡¯s face for some kind of reaction that I was on the right track. ¡°It¡¯s probably just a camp. The only problem is, while fire can scare off animals, it just serves as a beacon to more intelligent creatures.¡± Like Daniel and I for example. ¡°I think whoever has made camp there is either very scared of wildlife, or confident in their ability to protect themselves from anything the fire might attract¡± Daniel nodded silently for several moments, taking in my words. ¡°A good assessment, if vague. You didn¡¯t assign any judgments to ¡®who¡¯ was making camp though. This far out, between towns, any traveler should be considered just as likely to be a bandit as a merchant until you know for certain otherwise¡± He instructed me when he finally spoke. A minor admonishment, so I¡¯d count that as a win for now. ¡°We¡¯re going to approach, scout out the situation, and decide if we need to intervene. Once we know everything¡¯s clear, we¡¯ll move on¡± Dad ordered, taking the lead as I fell into step behind him. It was a no-brainer for him to be the vanguard, and at this point, neither of us needed many directions on marching formation. He led us quietly away from the path, and we stalked towards the trail of smoke for more than a mile before I finally heard dad whistle out the signal to stop. Daniel turned back to look at me and tapped his nose. I didn¡¯t know what he was trying to signal, but I didn¡¯t have to wonder for long, the smell hit me moments later. Carried on the wind, a thick, almost acrid, iron smell. Blood. Instantly I started shaping a spellform with my right hand. I didn¡¯t have much mana to draw on without system access, but if I shaped them right I could hurl some basic spells without outpacing my regeneration. I cursed leaving bonewolf behind. I only had a moment to decide which spells I should prepare before Daniel whistled to move and we started forward again. [Life Tap], the lower-tiered version of [Drain Life], I could probably maintain indefinitely. The spellform was efficient enough, by the time I finished casting I¡¯d probably be back to full. If things get hectic, I could do a few [Poison Lance] before I¡¯d need to fall back. Three at max power, maybe five if I cut corners on the magnitude. I tied off the [Life Tap] humming in my right hand, feeding it a trickle of mana to keep it from flickering out, and followed Daniel forward. My head was on a swivel, looking out for any danger, and I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. Memories of the Drake attack flickered through my head, pounding a sense of panic into my mind. This time would be different, no one was around to get hurt, just me and dad. I¡¯d protect him, he¡¯d protect me. We¡¯d be safe. Dad and I continued, pressing forward until Daniel broke the edge of a small clearing and stopped. He didn¡¯t whistle or signal in any way, so I crept up next to him and knelt down to hide in the bush. What I saw in the clearing made my breath catch in my throat. Six men, armed with axes and swords and wrapped in leather armor, were milling between three overturned wagons. The smell of burning filled my lungs, and I could see ash falling down from the sky. The wagons were ransacked, and overturned, with no signs of the animals that had once pulled them. In the middle of the wreckage, a pile of smashed crates had been lit ablaze and stacked high with the bodies of the caravaneers. Eight men it looked like, mostly merchants, all long since dead. Burning irreverently in the middle of the wilderness with no final rites. I gagged on the smell and looked up at dad, his face was a storm of anger. Chapter 20 Dad didn¡¯t say anything to me as he stomped into the clearing to face down the bandits. I had little doubts about his combat abilities after seeing him fight the drakes, but I was definitely worried If I could even help back him up in such a situation. My best bet would be to stay hidden and fling spells whenever an opening presents itself. Damn! Why didn¡¯t I take a stealth Skill? Dad must have silently activated a few skills to prepare for a fight because I didn¡¯t even see him when he finally moved. I felt a rush of wind and he blurred into the clearing, Skewering the first man through the throat before they even noticed his approach. The bandit corpse dropping into the dust definitely alerted them though, and as they drew their weapons it was clear they counted on a numbers advantage to fight dad. Daniel wrenched his spear free and I heard the first man¡¯s neck crack around the weapon. The wet pop didn¡¯t seem to effect anyone else, but my stomach lurched. Each man activated skills as they hefted swords and axes into their hands, some flashes of red and purple lights clearly visible, other skills more passive and nuanced. Dad didn¡¯t give them much time to organize though, and rushed forward again, clashing his spear against the nearest bandit¡¯s ax with a low metallic screech. I hadn¡¯t even seen him move, in the blink of a moment he was atop the man, baring down with all his force and fury. His speed suggests a level of air affinity, but I¡¯ve never been too clear on how elements interplay with physical classes. Sensing an opening, I fired the [Life Tap] spell I¡¯d been holding and watched as a deep blue bolt of mana soared through the air toward Daniel¡¯s opponent. It flew true and smacked the man clear in the chest as he blocked dad¡¯s attacks. I watched him stumble backward from the impact and felt the vitality surge into me from the spell''s draining effect. The impact of the spell alone wasn¡¯t much, but with his focus on defending from Dad it tipped the scales slightly. I didn¡¯t want to stick around and draw attention to my position, so I took off at a full sprint. I was circling the small clearing and sticking to the undergrowth as well as I could manage, listening to the clangs and clatterings of combat as the bandits fought back against dad five to one. When I finally stopped, breathing shallow in my chest, I looked back into the fray to see the man I¡¯d struck lying on the ground, a deep red spear wound in his neck, slowly seeping the ground around him with crimson mud. Part of me hoped I¡¯d given dad that opening, but part of me doubted I could. I began instantly weaving together a life tap, gasping to catch my breath while I watched dad and the remaining four bandits kicking up sprays of mud in the center of the upturned wagons. Right as my attention turned back to them dad was locked in a brace with one of the bandits. Another rushed behind him and arced his sword in a viscous uppercut, activating some [Skill] and sending a wave of light shooting right at Daniel¡¯s back. He dodged out of the way with a graceful sidestep, but to my eyes it appeared almost as if he teleported. The bandit he¡¯d been grappling took the skill head-on with his blade and it bounced, hurling back the way it came. They clearly had some kind of team interplay skills, and even though dad was dodging just fine, it looked like they¡¯d pushed him on the back foot and seized the tempo of the fight. I couldn¡¯t let that happen, so right before the original caster could bounce the skill again, I finished the [Life Tap] spell and hurled it into his back. He didn¡¯t see the abbysal spell hurling through his blind spot, and it struck true. I waited just long enough to watch his own skill take his left arm off at the shoulder before I started sprinting for a new hiding place. The smell of blood was getting fresher and thicker as I ran, burning the back of my throat with every breath. The freshly disarmed bandit was screaming in shock, though his voice quickly grew quiet. He must have bled out. Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. I prayed to any god that would listen for earlier system access, for a way to help my dad without dragging him down. No one answered. I was being too naive. The crunch of leaves and twigs under my feet faded into a dull throb of my heartbeat. I¡¯d assumed dad wasn¡¯t in any danger, I¡¯d assumed I could protect him. I¡¯d let years of training make me overconfident again. I knew how useless I¡¯d felt without system access the first time, but I¡¯d let myself believe I could change it this time. I felt lightheaded, my chest tightened and panic was setting in. There were only three bandits left now, and as I slid into cover behind a fallen tree I saw one of the remaining three cut and run in the opposite direction from where I hid. Fleeing from dad and leaving his comrades behind. My hands shook as I tried to weave another spell, nearly doubling my casting time. Damn it all! I need to get my nerves back under control. Frustration mounting, I glanced back up at the remaining two fighters. Daniel was facing down two men of almost identical build. They seemed like brothers even from this distance. Each one carried a heavy one-handed ax and a small buckler shield. Clearly not heavy fighters, they danced back and forth to deflect dad¡¯s spear thrusts rather than block them completely. Each brother covered the other¡¯s openings, but even still, Daniel¡¯s spear left heavy gouges on the steel plating of their shields. Likewise, though they kept landing shallow cuts on his arms whenever he attacked, slicing his clothes and leathers but never quite drawing blood. the fight had become a war of attrition entirely thanks to their numerical advantage and tight coordination. Hopefully, I could tip the scales in our favor. I wove together a [Life Tap] in both hands, feeling my normal rush of mana regeneration slow to a trickle as I kept two spellforms primed. I held my breath and steadied myself as much as I could, a nervous shake still permeating my bones. Waiting for a perfect moment to strike, or a faulty step where I could create an opening. Dad swung his spear in a wide arc in front of him, trying to create some spacing between the fighters. Even at this distance I felt the force of wind it created. One of the bandits jumped over the attack, ax raised high for a downward swing, his speed pausing mid air for a tense moment. Sensing my chance, I hurled the left spell into the midair marauder while the spell in my right aimed for the feet of his brother on the ground. This would either win us the fight or we¡¯d need a new plan anyway, so I whistled out as sharply as I could, both fingers in my mouth. The signal me and dad used. Thankfully, Daniel could have heard me a mile away with his senses, and he knew exactly what was coming. The brother in the air tumbled forward as my spell knocked him off balance, rotating dramatically and falling directly onto Dad¡¯s waiting attack. The spear pierced through him effortlessly, letting out a wet snapping sound as it severed his spine. Daniel didn¡¯t wait for our foe to die though, and charged forward anyway, lifting the man with his stat-boosted strength and charging his brother. My second spell hit home just before dad charged, knocking the last fighter off his stride barely enough to create an opening for both brothers to be skewered side by side. The sound of them choking and sputtering as my dad just stood there catching his breath rattled me more than I expected it to. Their lungs sounded full, and their breathing was wet. I mainly fought monsters in my last life, killing humans was messy. Dad wrenched his spear loose from their bodies and motioned me over. With a quick check to make sure I was okay, he issued me a new set of orders. ¡°Let¡¯s get all their bodies piled up here. We¡¯ll search for anything they looted, take what we can carry, and burn the rest. I want to bury these poor folk¡¯s ashes though¡± Daniel explained, motioning to the pyre of merchants. I turned to leave, and winced as two fast crunching sounds told me Dad finished the fight properly. For a moment I debated asking to keep some of the bandit¡¯s bones to raise as my first humanoid undead, but with our visit to Alberack still looming I¡¯d have nowhere to hide them, most of them were probably broken now anyway. It would have to wait. The pressure in my stomach had been building the entire time, and once our enemies were dead some stopper had been released. I curled forward and wretched into the mud. After a moment dad came over and knelt silently next to me, his hand reassuringly placed on my shoulder. He didn¡¯t say a word. Chapter 21 Dad and I took all the loose coins we found among the bandit¡¯s possessions, a few of the more well-crafted weapons, and then one crate of fabric the merchants had been shipping. All of the bandit''s weapons had chips or cracks in them where dad had fought them, though his own spear remains spotless. I¡¯m not overly clear yet on how dad decided on weight vs. cost, but he seemed confident in the decision so I just took his word for it. As we continued on our way to Alberack, dad now carrying the crate with his spear stowed over his shoulder, we discussed the events of that morning. ¡°So. Vincent. How are you feeling?¡± He asked me awkwardly, struggling with emotionally charged subjects just as much as I did. ¡°Honestly? I¡¯ve never fought people or killed people before, It was mostly monsters and animals in my last life. It feels different. A little unsettling. I¡¯m not fully sure yet though.¡± I admitted slowly, mulling over my own thoughts and emotions as he asked me. ¡°I felt the same way when I first became a mercenary. It doesn¡¯t really seep in all at once, took a few days for it to really hit me¡± Dad explained, recounting his time as a soldier of fortune briefly. ¡°The important part to remember though bud is that they would have hurt many more people if we didn¡¯t stop them.¡± He explained. It was a decent point, focusing on the good we¡¯d brought into the world, and the harm we prevented. Otherwise, it might ruin me. The rest of our journey was uneventful thankfully, though the brief detour had slowed our travel time significantly. Dad and I had packed light when we left, and by the time we actually arrived in Alberack, our supplies had run dry. Fresh water was easy enough to find in the wilds, but we¡¯d been subsisting on dried jerkies and hardtack to avoid having to stop and forage. When we ran out, dad displayed his considerable prowess as a hunter and even taught me how to track animals. I didn¡¯t have an open skill slot anymore, not that I wanted a tracking skill, but even knowing how to do something without system assistance could be beneficial. Besides, it gave us both a much-needed distraction and helped ease the tension from the fight. Camping in the evenings had been far quieter than I was used to. The town of Alberack was relatively impressive when compared to home, and having arrived in the middle of the day it was already bustling as we approached. A baker was walking the streets with a large tray harnessed to his shoulders, shouting and making sales as he went along. A thick plume of smoke billowed from what must be a forge of some kind, though there appeared to be multiple workshop spaces judging by the outside of the building. Dozens of other folks were filling the streets, going to and from various buildings along the central square, none so much as even stopping to take a second look at us. ¡°Alberack is sort of a commercial hub for a lot of the smaller settlements in this area¡± Dad explained with a wave of his hand, beckoning me to follow him deeper into the town. He continued to speak as he led us with purpose to a destination he¡¯d not shared with me. ¡°They get frequent visitors from the various towns around here, and lots of caravans of supply come through from the cities closer to the coast.¡± Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. As it was explained to me, I realized that none of the businesses in this region had to pay any form of tax. There is no need for tax collectors, since Ocresh hadn¡¯t been formally declared as a nation. Everything is still individual city-states.. That might be what attracted all the merchants originally. ¡°This is us,¡± Dad said, pointing my attention to a large two story building with a sign that read ¡°Oak & Oar¡±, a tavern of some sort I suppose. Walking inside, the building was decorated with ropes and lanterns, ships wheels, and all manner of small nautical trinkets. The main room had a smoldering hearth on one side, a bar in the back, and a smattering of lightly occupied tables. The man I presume to be the proprietor was standing behind the bar, sorting through a few coins and making notes in a ledger. He was a barrel chested man with heavy muscular arms, and a beard that looked damaged by years of sun and salt spray. A sailor maybe? It fit the theme of his bar. When we entered, his eyes picked up and noticed dad almost immediately. ¡°Daniel! I wasn¡¯t expecting your usual trip for a few more weeks at least. What brings you here to darken my door?¡± The owner laughed. ¡°Anders, you¡¯ve never met my son Vincent. Vincent, Anders here runs the best inn and tavern in Alberack. I¡¯ve stayed here every time I come here.¡± Dad explained, smiling as he walked forward to meet his old acquaintance and shake his hand. I politely said my introductions to the old sailor and winced as he burst into an uproarious laugh. ¡°Vincent my boy, I feel like I¡¯ve met you a dozen times over. Your old dad never shuts up about you¡± The innkeeper teased, elbowing my dad in the side. The two of them shared a laugh, and dad handed Anders a few coins. ¡°I need a double room for the night, and something to eat for my boy. I have a few items to sell Old Gerran, I¡¯ll be back for my own meal later¡±, and with a nod dad was turning to leave. A jolt of anxiety ran through my spine at being left with a strange man, but dad seemed to trust him. My fears were further quelled when Anders placed a small plate of bread and meat on the counter in front of him, gesturing me over. ¡°Come eat boy, your father will be back in a bit. Old Gerran runs a general store here, buys junk from folks and resells it¡± Anders explained as I began stuffing my mouth with the warm bread. I hadn¡¯t realized how hungry I was until the smell hit me. Anders and I made some minor small talk as I ate and he refilled my plate with a few small cuts of meat and cheese after I emptied it the first time. It felt like he was taking pity on me, but I didn¡¯t mind. He asked me a few questions about my system and skills, how mom was doing, anything interesting coming up. He seemed surprised to hear about Leigh¡¯s system unlock coming as soon as it was, but merely laughed when I explained my endeavor to find her a gift. ¡°Ah, to be young again. Reminds me of my time as a cabin boy and the captain¡¯s daughter¡± Anders sighed, becoming lost in thought for a moment. Before he could elaborate further, dad arrived back through the front door, a large pouch in his hand, likely having sold the crate full of items we¡¯d taken from bandits. Daniel flopped down in the seat next to me at the bar, clasping a hand on my shoulder as Anders handed him his own tray of food. ¡°Vincent buddy, we¡¯ll get your tools bought tomorrow, I got everything sold already and I want to show you around the town today.¡± He explained between numerous full mouthed bites of hard cheese and fresh bread. I was looking forward to seeing the town, but at the same time a part of me wanted nothing more than to get my tools and get home to work immediately. Chapter 22 We stayed in Alberack for two days. All of our business was concluded on the first day, and I had tools in hand by the first night, itching to get back home. Dad said it was important to stay and rest before we set back out, claiming our mental fatigue would get to us. I hadn¡¯t believed him at first, but come morning on the second day I was still exhausted. My body protested any movement despite a full night''s rest, and while my muscles didn¡¯t hurt they felt weak and sluggish. Was it psychosomatic like Daniel suggested? I have no way to know for certain, but I suspect it gets better with time. Dad certainly wasn¡¯t showing any signs of issue, laughing at all hours of the night with his bartender friend. I groaned and rolled back into the itchy blankets. Better to sleep than suffer. I slept in for several more hours, but we finally left shortly after lunch. The materials father sold paid for my tools and then some, allowing us to purchase plenty of food for the return journey. At first, I had worried we might run into another impediment, but our time was safe and simple. Within a few days the familiar outline of home rose up from the forest to greet us. Dad went first, distracting both Neia and Leigh as he arrived, giving me time to slip my new tools into the root cellar with my perpetually waiting minion. I didn¡¯t want to risk Leigh figuring out my plan, or mother alerting her. I entered the house a few moments after him, immediately assaulted by the embrace of my mother. ¡°I missed you honeybunch!¡± mom practically shouted in my ear. Despite her build being relatively magic focused, she had plenty of strength to still sweep me off the ground with her hug. ¡°That¡¯s the longest you¡¯ve ever been away¡± She laughed, ¡°I didn¡¯t think I¡¯d miss you quite that badly. What am I going to do when you move out?¡±. Despite her pleasant demeanor, there was a genuine pang of emotion in her voice. All things considered, Neia would likely outlive a more normal half-elf child. I didn¡¯t plan on dying a second time, but she of course has no guarantee. ¡°Hey mom¡± I sighed as she placed me back down. Leigh must have noticed us arriving, because she entered not but a few minutes after us, gently saying hello as she stopped to wash up. Her face was still smudged with ash and charcoal from her forge. ¡°Did you rest at all while we were gone?¡± I asked, in disbelief of her drive to constantly work even before her system unlocked. I¡¯ve done my fair share of training, but nine, sometimes ten hours a day, every day, would be ridiculous. ¡°I¡¯ve been eating plenty and sleeping when I get tired. That¡¯s about all I¡¯ll afford myself until I see those classes unlock¡± Leigh sighed, flopping into a seat at the table. ¡°How was your trip?¡± She plied, and dad explained the generalities of it while Neia set an impromptu meal for the four of us. Thankfully Daniel brushed over the encounter with bandits and the bloody outcome, instead calling it a ¡®difficult morning¡¯ and leaving it at that. No need to get overly specific. My family had a quiet and peaceful improvised breakfast, sharing calming small talk about what we¡¯d all been getting up to in our recent absences. It was nice. It reminded me of the many nights I spent camped out around a fire with Gildea and the rest of the party, deep in dragon territory and always on edge, but somehow finding a way to laugh at each other regardless. Soon the morning drew to a close though, and Leigh scampered back off to her workshop. Neia and I worked on cleaning up the kitchen together, and dad just collapsed into a heap in his bed to sleep off any remaining fatigue. He¡¯d been looking out for me for days, I guess he earned it. Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. ¡°Hey mom?¡± I chimed in after a moment of silence in the kitchen. I couldn¡¯t risk mom knowing what I was trying to do for Leigh¡¯s birthday, but maybe she could still give me ideas. ¡°I want to make Leigh a gift for her system unlock day. What do you think I should give her?¡± I asked carefully, leaving the question open ended and open to interpretation. ¡°Sugarplum, I¡¯m sure whatever you give her, as long as it¡¯s genuine and from the heart, she¡¯ll love it¡± Mom explained softly, trying to reassure me. That doesn¡¯t help my current planning though. Ugh. ¡°Thanks mom¡± I mumbled, finishing up with what few dishes still needed to be washed before wandering off to the cellar. I had to go outside to get into the cellar, and it was finally starting to warm up under the light of the sun. A comfortable day for working, hopefully. I slid down the few stairs into the shallow basement. As I¡¯ve gotten taller over the years, the low ceilings have felt more and more confining down here, which I find oddly comforting. My undead wolf was waiting patiently next to the crate of supplies, his eyes glimmering in the dark. I need to remember to check his animation core soon, I didn¡¯t expect him to hold up this long, regular maintenance could have only gotten him so far. A thought for another time. With a sigh, I began unpacking the crate and organizing my new tools. I have barely a week at this point to get Leigh''s gift finished, I don¡¯t want to waste time. Dad had brokered for everything I needed, without much input of my own. I knew I explained it to him, but I had honestly doubted he paid much attention at the time. I smiled as I looked over the small knives, chisels, and hammers all laid out in rows. It wasn¡¯t much, and it wouldn¡¯t stand up to any hard forge work, but it would definitely get me started. I cleared all the tools out of the crate, and was surprised to find a small parchment wrapped bundle still waiting in the bottom. I carefully unwrapped it, and a small silver chain spilled out into my lap, my attention was caught in the item in my hands though. Leather bound and still faintly sticky with fresh glue, the first book I¡¯d ever seen since my rebirth. I picked the chain up and held it in my other hand as I looked over the tome. Daniel must have paid a fortune for the two of them. I opened the front cover to find the book blank, a journal, and only a small message written inside. ¡°To Vincent. My son, My friend. I will love you always. - Dad¡± I choked up a little bit reading those words, my mind harkening back to the adrenaline and blood of my first real fight. Dad and I, both struggling to protect the other. Wiping the stray tears that had escaped, I set the journal aside and resolved to use it as my first book of notes, both on spells and mana crafting going forward. Looking over my make-shift workshop, I had everything I needed. The small knots of wood I¡¯d salvaged and scouted to be Leigh¡¯s gift (and its failed drafts), the new tools, and now a beautiful silver chain better than anything I could hope to craft. I grabbed the first hunk of wood, and sat down to get to work. Leigh¡¯s party was only a week away, if I wanted her gift to be the best I could possibly manage, I¡¯d need all the time I have. I took the largest chisel I had and began coarsely outlining the shapes I had in mind, drawing on the strands of mana inside me and trying to activate my new skill. It would take a few drafts at least just to figure out how [Mana Crafting] works. Chapter 23 The day of the Party I¡¯ve spent the entire lead-up to Leigh¡¯s birthday hidden away in the basement pouring over draft after draft of my gift to her. I¡¯d initially planned on a brooch, but when father provided me with a silver chain, the obvious solution was a pendant. At this point I must have carved nearly a dozen of the damn things. No matter what I make, or how carefully I form it, I¡¯m just never satisfied with my efforts. Nothing¡¯s good enough, and I only want to give Leigh the best. I only make the best. I¡¯ve had to restock my supply of wood several times now. After my second request for assistance, dad refused to chop any more for me and instead showed me how to do it myself. Exhausting work, chopping wood. At times I find myself so tired from a day¡¯s work that I fall asleep in the cellar, tools still in hand. It will all be worth it though, once I have something to give to Leigh that I can truly be proud of. I was initially worried that I¡¯d have to hide my efforts from her rather consistently, but her own insistence on gaining experience before her system unlock has guaranteed that we only see each other occasionally at meal times. A regrettable circumstance since I¡¯d prefer to see her more often, but a necessary evil to make the impact I want. Which brings me to the next big hurdle. [Mana Crafting]. The skill itself wasn¡¯t difficult to activate, but making anything worthwhile certainly was. The first time I activated mana crafting, it was a bit like opening an eye I didn¡¯t know I had. Similar to [Mana Sight] the skill made me more aware of the energy in the world around me, but specifically the connections they formed. If [Mana Sight] let me see the mana outside my body and [Mana Command] gave me knowledge of my interior mana, then [Mana Crafting] showed me how to let these two pools flow into each other. Everything in the world contains energy, what we call mana, without exception. When I activate the skill, I can feel the threads of reality humming around me. Present, but just barely noticeable with the level 1 skill. From there, whenever I start crafting an object, I can direct the flow of mana in my body, through my tools, and into the piece¡ªeffectively creating very low level magical enchantments. I¡¯ve tried to do this to other objects, but the skill doesn¡¯t seem to find purchase unless I¡¯m modifying the target in some way. The finer and more detailed my modification, for example, wood carving, the more detailed control I have over the item¡¯s interior mana. To place a framework inside an object I haven¡¯t created or modified, I suspect I¡¯ll need genuine enchantment skills. An issue for my future classes, I don¡¯t have the slots to spare at the moment. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. It does make me wonder though. If I were to carve designs into the individual bones of a skeleton before animating it, could I then supply enchantments to the minion directly? The idea took me completely, so in order to return focus to my crafting endeavors I slid out the journal father gave me and jotted down a few notes on the subject. Can mana crafting integrate enchantments directly into constructed minions? Can bone wolf be modified without dissipating his animation? Note to self: Name bone wolf Note to note to self: teach bone wolf his name I had a few thoughts percolating about how to best utilize my sole minion. He¡¯d been languishing in idle unuse down here in the cellar ever since Leigh¡¯s father was run out of town, only coming out to join me on my patrols with father. I felt bad having to hide him away, but once the party is over I¡¯ll be able to return my full attention to magical experiments. Hopefully. With my attention refocused, I was able to turn back to carving Leigh¡¯s gift. The simplest step is creating a small set of loops on either side of the pendant to hold it to the silver chain. Then came the actual artistry. With small chisels and knives, engraving and detailing the design into the small slab of wood. I¡¯ve experimented with several design ideas at this point, but I think I¡¯ve decided to stick with a small anvil and Leigh¡¯s initials carved in the middle. Simple enough to repeat dozens of times, but complex enough to carry a meaning. The small size of such an item imposed an artificial ceiling on how complex an enchantment, and how many enchantments, I would place into it with [Mana Crafting]. I¡¯ve tried several small ideas, like a self repairing shield or barrier, a temperature regulator, and none of them worked. Rather, the enchantment forms worked just fine, but [Mana Crafting] isn¡¯t a high enough level to fit such a complex enchantment into a small item. Instead, I¡¯ve chosen a basic cleansing spell. The spellform will be enchanted into the item, and then Leigh can activate it with only a few points of mana. I¡¯ve seen how tired she is after a day in the forge, and her exhaustion often leads to her refusing a bath and falling asleep while covered in soot and grime. Hopefully a minor cleanse will come in handy and be appreciated. I can¡¯t think of much else she¡¯d use that I can fit into the amulet with my current skills. Anything too complex and she¡¯s likely to squander it. I spent a few days carving out the best pendants I could, eventually finding a few shapes I was happy with and adding the finishing details to the one I thought looked the best. Then I practiced the [Mana Crafting] on several of the lackluster amulets. It felt a bit like trying to wrestle a spider web, the strands of magic kept slipping out of my grasp the harder I squeezed down on them. It took a purposefully light touch to manage the skill, and after a few days of practice I got it down rather well, I think. I was working on a few modifications to the final enchanting form when there was a knock on the cellar door. Father came down without waiting for my response, and left a small parcel of bread on the stool for me. ¡°The party is today bud, if you¡¯re not done by now you really need to wrap it up¡± he encouraged me. I¡¯d really only have time for a few more passes, but I wanted to make sure everything was as perfect as I could manage. I spent the next hour or so doing one last final practice run on Leigh¡¯s amulet before I began enchanting the real deal. I¡¯d be cutting it close on time, but if I ran from the basement straight into town, I probably wouldn¡¯t miss too much of the party. Hopefully. The extra few minutes might also help me refine this enchant a bit more. Chapter 24 Countdown to Leigh¡¯s System Access. I spent the entire morning pouring mana into my final draft of Leigh¡¯s enchantment. Dad had stopped by again to let me know everyone was leaving for the town square, and urged me to hurry up. I was too busy scraping extra moments to make the pendant as perfect as I could manage. At this rate I¡¯d have to sprint into town to make it in time, but I didn¡¯t care. [Mana Crafting] was still only level one but as my aching hands manipulated the subtle threads of energy, teasing them into the right shape, I felt a familiar sensation burn through me. [Mana Sight] activated without my input, and I was instantly overwhelmed by the surging storm of energy filling the basement. Fatigue built in my chest with every breath, [Mana Forming] and [Mana Command] had both been supplementing my desperate final attempt. My mana pool must be bottoming out, it felt like I was going to pass out. My blood burned in my veins. A flurry of system notifications clouded my vision, right as I tumbled to the floor.
Congratulations! You have achieved a great feat of magic.
  • Create a magical item manually
  • Cast a spell without system assistance
  • Continuously feed a spell for over 24 hours
  • Continuously feed a spell for over 48 hours
¡­
  • Continuously feed a spell for 1 year.
  • Spend over 1000 points of mana at level 1
  • Spend over 5000 points of mana at level 1
¡­
  • Spend over 50,000,000 points of mana at level 1
ERROR. System Overflow detected. Rerouting to Adminis- ?v?r rid? ???¡Êpt¡Êd. ?o¦°gr¦«ts Kid. S¦²¦² ¦Ì ?¦Òo¦°. [Mana Crafting], [Mana Sight], [Mana Forming], [Mana Command] have been merged. [Blessing of Mana] has been formed. [Blessing of Mana] has been set to level 5. [Curse of Pain] has been formed [Curse of Pain] has been set to level 5.
Then, I actually did pass out. I wasn¡¯t unconscious for very long, more of a flicker than a faint. When I stumbled out of the cellar doors, the sun hadn¡¯t moved since the last time I checked it. Still plenty of time to make it to the party. I stuffed the amulet in my pocket and rushed into the house to quickly wash the sweat from my face and soothe the achingly dry mouth I woke up with. A small splash of water later, and I was sprinting at full speed out of the garden. As I ran down the dirt path deeper into the village, my thoughts were racing even faster than my feet. What had that message been about? Why did the system window flicker like that? Dozens of other questions I didn¡¯t have the answers to, and vague half-memories from my first life that seemed to scream and hiss in my subconscious, misty and distant. The system wasn¡¯t a friend, I knew that much, but it didn¡¯t fucking speak to me either! It was a clearly flawed creation, but it was autonomous. Everyone says it is autonomous. I seem to recall a few churches that revered the gods as ¡°System Administrators¡±, but then why had the text been so broken? Why was the system screaming in response? Why were my eyes buzzing? Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. I couldn¡¯t answer any of those questions. I called out a mental command to my solitary minion, ordering Bone Wolf out of the cellar into the woods on the outskirts of town. I¡¯d come up with a name for him, and a plan to help his appearance some, but the strange interference was accelerating my timetable. I didn¡¯t want to be caught unprepared. Silently, my loyal friend circled the very edges of the village, finding the closest spot to the town center while staying hidden. He¡¯d be ready if I needed him. Rounding a corner in the street, I slowed to a light jog while approaching the town square. I could hear the subtle chattering of a crowd in the distance and didn¡¯t want to make too much of a scene by sprinting in at the last moment. Fishing the amulet out of my pocket, I wanted to inspect it one last time before giving it over to Leigh. As I gazed down at the bauble in my hand, the familiar tingle of a skill activating filled the space behind my eyes. Information poured out of the object, and I could sense the mana wafting off of it like steam. It wasn¡¯t quite like sight, but more of a natural awareness. My new sixth sense, likely supplied by [Blessing of Mana] filled my mind with the details of the item.
Amulet of Purification - Uncommon
  • Can be activated to cleanse user of filth and grime
  • Provides slight resistance to poison
  • Provides slight resistance to disease
Must be recharged when mana reserve has been exhausted
The effects were overall better than I¡¯d hoped for. I¡¯d only intended to make it a basic cleanse charm, but the interference of my new blessing was a welcomed addition. Even if it was a small addition. I¡¯m curious to see how the [Blessing of Mana] affects things in the future, but for now, I had better things to worry about. I could hear the village counting down Leigh¡¯s system access in the distance. Ten. Nine. Eight. I made it just in time to catch Leigh¡¯s eyes scanning the crowd. We made eye contact and she smiled. Seven. Six. Five. A heartbeat passed, and she looked away, her smile not fading. The way her nervous eyes swept over our entire village, gathered to support her, made my chest flutter. More so than just the running. Four. Three. Two. She smiled at mom and dad, her adoptive parents standing up front to support her. One. Her eyes went blank. Rolling back into her head a surge of power, knowledge, and control rushed into her. There were many theories about the system, as wide and varied as the cultures of the world. Some believed it to be a direct line to the gods, the voice of divine angels, or the will of living mana itself. None could say for sure, but one thing was certain. That first moment was always overwhelming. Thinking back, I can''t even remember my own system unlock day. I thought I could, I could have sworn I did. My parents were there. I think? Standing there while Leigh scrolled through her status and options for the first time, I tried to think back to my first life. To Andras Gregori and his parents. However, every time I tried to focus on the concept of a mother or a father, all I could bring to mind were Neia and Daniel. My current parents. I know I had parents the first time. Everyone has parents. It felt like we didn¡¯t have a good relationship, but I couldn¡¯t even remember their faces let alone their names. I couldn¡¯t miss something I couldn¡¯t remember, but even still the emptiness made me pause. I wasn¡¯t going to let it stop me though, I was here today for Leigh, and she should be done with her menus soon. She stepped down from the small wooden platform that had been built for the town to watch her. One of the boards snapped under her newfound strength, unable to regulate her newly enhanced ability. She stumbled forward and Daniel blurred forward, catching her before she could hit the ground. The crowd was cheering, but already starting to disperse. Our little family unit would exchange gifts here before returning home for dinner. Dad went first, he had a custom forging hammer made for Leigh, with her name engraved on the top. Neia gave her a new dress, handmade and well-fitted to Leigh¡¯s measurements. I was looking forward to seeing her in it. When it was finally my turn, I stepped forward and handed her the amulet. ¡°I made this for you, sorry I was late though. It took all morning to finish¡± I stammered, blushing as she took it and smiled. Leigh immediately looped the chain over her head and smiled at me. ¡°It¡¯s great! Thank you¡±. I briefly tried to explain the properties I had enchanted into it, but Leigh tackled me into a hug before I could finish. ¡°I took the [Mana Crafting skill] would you mind teaching me?¡± Leigh asked sheepishly, not offering up any more information about her new system unlock. I accepted immediately. Chapter 25 System Unlock - Leigh¡¯s Point of View As the countdown of the cheering crowd reached its ultimate climax, Leigh took one final glance around the gathered people. She smiled softly when she saw Vincent jogging in at the edge of the square. ¡®Good, he made it¡¯ she thought to herself, a formless weight lifted off her shoulders. She turned her attention to Mr. and Mrs. Stesk standing in the front row near her little stage, beaming up at her with all the support she could ever want. A pang of guilt followed as she thought about her own parents being there today, but it faded quickly. She can¡¯t change the past, only prepare for the future. The chanting reached zero, and all at once the world faded from view. Leigh felt as if she was falling in slow motion, descending through liquid honey slowly and gradually. Sinking into an all-encompassing warmth. Her vision was gone, her ears deaf; she couldn¡¯t even feel the platform beneath her feet anymore. Only the gentle embrace of that endless expanse remained a gentle yet constant pressure. Just as suddenly as it started, the feeling of momentum ground to a halt. Leigh floated there in the darkness, alone, for several moments before anything happened. She tried to stir, to move, and panic started to set in when she couldn¡¯t. A voice called out from the void, ethereal and distant. ¡°Hush child, all is well¡± and with each syllable spoken, the speaker seemed to draw closer. The voice was gruff, like a file being drug across a blade. It was coarse and echoey, but with a warmth like a forge. The void rippled like the surface of a pond, and Leigh went from floating in nothing to standing in the midst of a workshop. She was standing in the shadow of a massive humanoid man, holding a hammer. He was often depicted differently around the world, but in her chest, Leigh knew who this was. Oses, god of craftsmen. He took a single step forward and shrunk to the size of an adult man, barely standing a foot taller than Leigh. ¡°You¡¯ve drawn a lot of attention Lass¡± The craftsman god spoke, his wide smile inviting Leigh to actually relax. He stowed the hammer in his hand through a loop in his leather apron and took a seat. A chair materializing behind him. ¡°No offense, but I¡¯m just here to make the connection, got someone else who wants to talk to you.¡± The maker lord gestured over his shoulder to a nearby shadow. Stepping out from the darkness of the god, was a faceless dwarven man with a forging hammer in either hand. Ethar, the forge lord. Subordinate god of Oses and Blacksmith King. His form was consistent with the small shrine Leigh¡¯s father used to keep in their home before the attack all those years ago. He¡¯d stopped maintaining it after her mother died. Leigh immediately dropped to one knee. As a smith herself, she venerated lord Ethar more so than almost any other god. His voice nearly shook the bones in her body when her god spoke. ¡°Get up kid, none of that genuflecting shite in my presence.¡± He then laughed a booming laugh as Leigh scrambled to her feet. ¡°Y-Yes sir, sorry my lord¡± she stammered, the forge lord waving off her respect with a gesture. ¡°You¡¯ve done a lot of good work in these past few months, and you¡¯ve gone far and above what anyone expected¡± The forge lord began to explain, motioning for Leigh to stay quiet when she tried to speak up. ¡°You¡¯ve struggled through the tragedy of your family, found yourself a good apprentice, picked up some skills from him, and vice versa. You upheld everything I stand for as a god, and I¡¯m here to reward you¡± He concluded his speech, smacked his two hammers together, and let them ring out loud. The sound reverberated through Leigh¡¯s body and soul, changing and crafting her as if she were an ingot of steel. A blessing was passed into her form, and she fell backward, once again to be greeted by the endless expanse of the unconscious mind. She didn¡¯t know exactly how long she floated, but when she came back to her senses, Leigh was once again standing on the central platform in the town square. Her ears were filled with the cheers of her community, nearly drowning out the subtle ding! That accompanied her first official system message. You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
System access granted. Primary linkage established. Initiating bootup protocol. ¡­ Operator override detected, subroutines established. Initiating subroutine protocol.
Leigh blinked her bleary eyes, the cheers of the crowd already starting to die down. She couldn¡¯t shake the endless cascade of system boxes in the foreground of her vision however. Her confusion was only compounded by the unfamiliar language presented.
Experience point algorithm¡­ nominal. Health abstraction¡­ nominal. Mana abstraction¡­ nominal. All primary systems green, initiating class module.
In the second box, she actually recognized most of the language used, realizing through context that her system was checking itself for errors.
Experience buffer found. Accumulated XP to be granted now. Congratulations! [Dwarf-Kin Child] has leveled up to 2 ¡­ [Dwarf-Kin Child] has leveled up to 5 Class threshold reached, initiating class upgrade protocol. Operator override accepted. Congratulations! [Daughter of the forge] has leveled up to 1 [Daughter of the forge] has leveled up to 2 ¡­ [Daughter of the forge] has leveled up to 10 Class threshold reached, initiating class upgrade protocol.
With the error check now completed, all the experience Leigh had ever gathered in the past sixteen years was granted to her all at once. Instantly, her first two classes leveled to the maximum, and a swelling of stat points rippled through her very soul. The process of leveling up and having your stats increased can be addicting, euphoric even, as muscle and bone, blood and brain, heart and soul all grow stronger in a rush of feeling. The system unlock day for many becomes an unmatched high they spend the rest of their life chasing, urging them to level up more and more. Leigh¡¯s body shuddered, and only the rigid force of a freshly unlocked system kept her standing as her stat total more than tripled. Then, like a fading breeze, the feeling ended. Leigh felt the locks remove, she finally had control of her own system. Her own life. Hovering in her peripherals were several windows prompting her for choices. She ignored them all. With five new class skills to pick for her forced [Daughter of the forge] class, a window asking for her third class and its skills, as well as the remaining general skill slots she had, Leigh felt spoiled for choice. She needed time to think and consider what it was she wanted to do for the foreseeable future before making any heavy decisions like that. One decision though, didn¡¯t require much thinking at all. She immediately took the [Mana Crafting] general skill without any delay. The words of the Forge Lord echoing in her mind, she glanced at the Stesks, at Vincent. Smiling, Leigh bounded down the platform, wincing internally when she splintered the boards behind her. Mr. and Mrs. Stesk had wonderfully thoughtful presents for her, and Leigh cherished them truly. However, when Vincent produced a crudely carved amulet brimming with mana, she couldn¡¯t take her eyes off him. That anxious smile, the way he kept blushing like an idiot. His gift was impressive, sure, everything Vincent did was impressive, but like him it had heart. The lines weren¡¯t always even, the shape a little bumpy, it was a first project and it showed. Leigh swore she¡¯d never take it off. Chapter 26 It is no stretch to say Leigh has taught me about a great many things. Blacksmithing for one, yes, but she¡¯s also taught me a great many things about living life. Nothing she intended to teach, I don¡¯t think, but regardless she has led by example. If she wants me to teach her magic, then I will do everything in my power to assist her. It¡¯s the least I can do. First, however, I need to finally name my only other friend. ¡°Bonewolf '''' doesn''t exactly roll off the tongue. I waited until after breakfast the morning after Leigh¡¯s birthday and climbed down into the root cellar where ¡®Bonewolf¡¯ spent most of his time. He still spooked people sometimes when they spotted him from a distance, and there were apparently unsavory rumors spreading in town that I¡¯d like to avoid. Once I reached the bottom of the stairs, I whistled softly into the dark, and my ever-faithful minion came trotting over. At times I¡¯ve had to remind myself that he doesn¡¯t have much going on upstairs. His mindless eyes, while bright, do not contain any sentience. The summoned soul facsimile that powers movement is not alive. Bonewolf moves so fluidly though I could almost be convinced he was a living dog. ¡°Good morning old friend¡± I smiled, ignoring my own judgment and treating him as a pet anyway. He never responded anyway, not unless I ordered him to. ¡°Starting today, You have a name,¡± I explained to the empty basement. My minion looked up at me silently, and the ridiculous nature of my situation finally hit me. I let out a faint chuckle and knelt down in front of the skeletal beast. ¡°I know it must get boring down here by yourself all the time, but it won¡¯t have to be too much longer. Cain.¡± and as I spoke the name I had chosen aloud, a surge of mana accompanied the words, devoid of any input of my own. I watched in surprise as the shadows of the room seemed to stretch and swirl, curling around my minion as if to cradle him. Then came the whispers. The words felt distant and cold, not too dissimilar to a system message, but instead of lifeless text floating amidst my vision the emotionless words seemed to echo from the shadows themselves. ¡°Your dedication to the craft has long since been noticed¡­¡± the sonorous tones began. ¡°You granted this child life, and now you grant them more. You grant..self.¡± The temperature in the room dropped several degrees and my next exhale erupted into a cloud of steam, briefly fogging my vision. When it dispersed, I saw Cain¡¯s eyes flicker with that familiar purple flame of necromantic power. ¡°A bargain is offered¡± The voice explained, this time echoing from within my minion himself. ¡°You who have flouted the laws of this world time and time again. You hold much promise, much potential. Our wills align, accept and we shall grant you aid.¡± My mind was reeling. Definitely not the system talking to me, but who or what could flaunt system connection so dramatically to channel it like this? My first thought was initially some dark force, a demon of some kind or a remnant invader from the age of wars. Unlikely, it felt familiar, if somewhat sinister. That existence was at peace with the system, not at odds. A power of this world then. A god? Not that the revelation helps much. There are over a hundred known and recognized gods, and to the best of my knowledge nearly a dozen that could have some interest in necromancy, shadow magic, or general darkness. I couldn¡¯t confirm who was offering to me, nor what it was that they offered. At least not without asking, and this doesn¡¯t feel like a time to ask questions. Regardless, I feel strangely comforted and content in the presence, like it calls to me. ¡°I accept¡± The words were drawn from my throat as if speaking into a vacuum, their own weight dripping from my tongue. The response was immediate. ¡°A bargain offered, a bargain struck. We will be watching¡± and a chill ran down my spine to accompany those final words. This is the sort of thing I avoided the first time around. Powerful forces, be they emperors, dragons, or gods, always have an ulterior motive. If I hadn¡¯t felt so strangely at ease and in awe, I would have rejected it outright. I coughed a few errant drops of blood from my dry throat, noting the pain from having spoken aloud those words of power. Then all I could do was watch. I watched as the shadows wrapping Their way around my minion seemed to coalesce into a far more tangible state. Like cloth or muscle perhaps, the darkness clung to those old bones that had long since been bleached stark white by time, wreathing him in power. The flickering purple flames in Cain¡¯s eyes roared brighter for a moment, nearly leaping from his skull. When they died down, the flame no longer flickered and a steady compressed light shone from inside those sockets like tiny amethyst gems. He bristled with power and shadow, looking more like a summoned wolf than ever before. Close inspection would still reveal him as undead of course, but now he might not so easily disturb people from afar.
Identity confirmed. If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. Cain (Greater Bonewolf) has evolved into (Shadewolf). Cain has leveled up! ERROR. Spirit siphon unable to connect properly to system locked host. Initializing experience buffer for Cain (Shadewolf).
Another system error flashed as the subtle transformation of my friend was completed. I was worried for a moment, as I was earlier on Leigh¡¯s birthday, but it has yet to prove dangerous to myself or anyone else. Perhaps I am an outlier case, and the system is adapting around me? Perhaps more people have errors and the system is imperfect, just never discussed as such? The error message I saw on Leigh¡¯s birthday had suspiciously said ¡°see you soon¡±, and now not even a week later, I¡¯m being contacted by who knows what. Something was clearly wrong, but there¡¯s no way for me to get answers to my questions here in the village. Hell, maybe not even in all of Ocresh territory. As much as it burns me, it will have to wait. I turned my attention back to my friend and was disappointed to find I could not view Cain¡¯s status as I had done for minions in the future-past of my previous life. Blessedly, however, the information still flowed freely into my mind, just without the visual presentation of a system interface box.
Name: Cain Strength: 20 Species: Bone Wolf (Greater) - lvl ?
Hp: 40 Vitality: 20 Shadewolf - lvl ?
Mp: 2 Agility: 20
Species: Shadewolf Intelligence: 1
Charisma: 0
Willpower: 0
General Skills: Species Skills: Bonewolf
Mind of the Master - lvl 1 Null
Species Skills: Shadewolf
Null
His status raises a few questions. The presence of a question mark denoting his various species levels likely has something to do with the experience buffer the system mentions. However, his skill lists are confusing. I don¡¯t recall low-level minions having skills in the first place, but his species lists say ¡°null¡± and his general skills display a skill I have never heard of before. I tried to focus on [Mind of the Master] to find out what the skill does, but I can¡¯t glean any information through the piercing headache that followed. I guess that just leaves his stats. To call them lopsided would be a bit generous. Honestly, Cain¡¯s stats remind me of my own in a twisted sort of way. He¡¯s slated heavily toward the physical stats, and my own stats are almost entirely mental. The single point Cain has in intelligence is promising though. Normally low tier undead are completely mindless and incapable of interacting much beyond direct orders. A single point in intelligence, two points of mana, at least hints at something more than the baseline. He might actually be alive in there. I¡¯m going to try not to get my hopes up if it turns out to be nothing, but I¡¯d certainly enjoy him being a bit more independent. Cain¡¯s new form is also impressive. The sleek curves of his shadowy flesh, the subtle interplay of purple flame and pure darkness. Beautifully constructed in every meaning of the phrase, Cain has become a living work of art. His movements evoke a sense of wonder. The flames in his eyes are distant and cold even as they burn so brightly. I can¡¯t help but spend a few moments just pouring over him, enthralled in the masterwork. Such a pinnacle of Necromancy is astounding. Any future minions I raise will have heavy expectations to fill, but I hope my connection with Cain will serve as a beacon to guide them and further my craft. ¡°Nice to meet you Cain.¡± Chapter 27 With my old friend and first companion now successfully named, there wasn¡¯t much left to do before my agreed meeting with Leigh in the field behind the house. The edge of the village has always been the best place to practice after all. So to kill a little time I made my way back up to the house, actually taking Cain with me this time. I washed up in the kitchen and ate the few remnants from breakfast while mulling over the strange occurrence in the basement earlier. I must have zoned out at some point and lost track of time, before I knew it Leigh was standing in the door to the back garden, impatiently tapping her hands on her hips. ¡°Are you planning on keeping me waiting all morning?¡± She asked with a smirk. ¡°Fine, fine, I¡¯m on my way¡± I laughed, standing up from the table and following Leigh out back. It was a sunny day despite the scattered cloud cover, and a pleasantly cool breeze was flowing through our little village. We walked for several minutes until we reached the edge of the forest, and got ready to begin practicing. I was looking around for a place to sit when I noticed Leigh casually snapping tree branches in her hands and building an ad hoc effigy some ten meters away. She¡¯d always been a stronger than average young woman, given her affinity for blacksmithing, but her new system enhanced strength only underlined that further. ¡°Where do you want to start?¡± I stammered nervously as she finished constructing the improvised practice dummy. Leigh closed the distance between us as she pondered the question, her steps deliberately slow. ¡°I got enough levels during my birthday to class up twice, and I never chose my third class. I¡¯d really like to learn more about magic and use it as a basis for my [Mana Crafting] skill, and then if I¡¯m lucking on my next few class upgrades I¡¯d want a magical craftsman class¡± Leigh explained all at once, giving me a decent insight into her plans for the future. ¡°Okay, so I take it, you want to discuss this third class now?¡± I asked tentatively, and when she nodded in response I began to outline the most likely options she would see. She had mana based skills already, and an [Apprenticeship] skill that made learning new things easier, but I still think she needs to cast a few spells first to maximize her chances. The most versatile choice would be an [Apprentice Mage] class, though any other class with a focus on learning would be fine. Leigh just needs to avoid a full [Mage] type class or else she¡¯ll have to build the fundamentals manually, stagnating level growth. When I explained all this to Leigh, she seemed to agree well enough, and lit up with a smile at the mention of casting spells. ¡°Let¡¯s get started then, basic spells shouldn¡¯t be too hard to start with right?¡± Her optimism is never ceasing it seems. ¡°It¡¯s okay to be excited, but don¡¯t let it go to your head¡± I explained, taking a stance directly in front of her. We wouldn¡¯t need a target dummy for her starting spell. ¡°If it doesn¡¯t go right on the first try, or even the first hundred tries, that doesn¡¯t mean anything. Magic is hard, and different spells can be more or less difficult for different casters.¡± I was trying to prevent Leigh from becoming discouraged if her hopes were dashed. ¡°The first spell I casted, and the first spell most people learn, is [Light]¡± I lied to Leigh, at least partially. Yes, Vincent Stesk had first cast [Light] in his parent¡¯s garden shortly before learning how to read, however Andras Gregori had explicit memories of fighting off a mugger in an alleyway at the ripe age of nine with nothing more than a single [Mana Bolt], his only skill at the time. I shoved those painful memories down and tried to focus on Leigh, locking my eyes on hers as I continued to instruct. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°Now, there are several ways to make spellcasting easier. Chanting, Image training, and physical focusing. If you¡¯re planning on working on a workshop, you can use anything and everything without worrying about how long the spell takes to prepare-¡± I began to lecture, being abruptly cut off as Leigh shook her head in denial. ¡°No, I¡¯d rather be able to cast spells whenever and wherever I need to, I don¡¯t want to be chained to a forge or a focus or anything like that.¡± She affirmed aloud, resolution clear in her tone. ¡°Okay..¡± I sighed, taking an awkwardly silent moment to adjust my teaching plan. ¡°So spellforms are out of the way unless you make them ahead of time, and make them small enough to carry around.¡± I picked back up, to which Leigh confirmed ¡°An issue for another day. I just want the basic basics.¡± Spellforms were the most efficient way of creating physical focuses, so with that option categorically denied, that left only Chanting and Image training. The chant for [Light] is simple enough that I¡¯m not worried about it being a hindrance, but trying to focus on a mental image often leads mage¡¯s to close their eyes and stand still. An issue I have grappled with myself. Tentatively, I began explaining the problems and drawbacks of the method to Leigh, who seemed unbothered by the concept. ¡°So like making a horseshoe almost?¡± She asked, and for a moment the metaphor was lost on me. I then remembered one of the first things she explained to me when I started helping her in her forge. ¡°You can¡¯t close your eyes when forging or you¡¯ll do more harm than good. If you have an idea for how something is supposed to look, you need to be able to see it with your eyes open, or draw yourself a stencil.¡± I¡¯ll admit, it was pretty accurate. ¡°Yeah, something like that.¡± I laughed, raising my arms and gesturing for her to do the same. ¡°For the light spell, don¡¯t get too complex with it. Imagine a little bead of light floating above your hand like a firefly. Imagine the color, the brightness, how steady it is; everything you can possibly imagine.¡± Leigh furrowed her brow in response, staring intently at the palms of her joined hands. She looked like she¡¯d pop a blood vessel if I didn¡¯t help her soon. ¡°Now, repeat after me. Grow and gather oh guiding light. Fiat Lux.¡± I carefully intoned each syllable, making them as easy for Leigh to understand as possible, even though the only words I chose to channel mana into were the last two. I didn¡¯t want my spell going overboard and discouraging her. A tiny purple dot, no bigger than a grape, began to float above the palm of my right hand. Its faint light dim in the morning sun, but noticeable. I glanced over just in time to see a bright orange flicker sputter out above Leigh¡¯s hands at roughly the same time she finished her own spell. A shame it hadn¡¯t held for long. I was about to console her when she suddenly jumped in place, surprising me as she nearly tackled me in a hug. ¡°Did you see it? It worked, I mean it wasn¡¯t very big, but it was there and it was orange exactly like I wanted it to be and-¡± Leigh started to ramble, clearly vindicated by her first spellcasting experience. Now we just had to keep practicing so she could unlock her class. Chapter 28 After our first lesson, Leigh dove head first into practicing magic during every free moment she had. We both have chores to do, helping out around the house, and Leigh is still the only somewhat competent blacksmith in town. I¡¯d often find her sitting behind the forge when I came to visit, idly shaping and releasing mana in her hands to develop an instinct for it. These days pass quickly and peacefully, but not entirely without issue. My problem can be boiled down to a single root cause. Stats. Ever since her class up, the gap between Leigh¡¯s abilities and my own has been growing more and more evident. Stats exist on a bell curve, starting low and barely noticeable to the average person before the system unlock. However, as any person grows, ages, and levels, their stats increase dramatically. Eventually, this reaches a culmination of flashy and exaggerated stats. The actual number is up for debate, and different for each stat, but that¡¯s not important right now. After the climax of the curve, as stats continue to increase, their ridiculous displays become less of a spectacle as hundreds of micro adjustments are made beyond the perception of an average person. Like with spell casting, a level 30 mage of any persuasion might cast a very simple spell, while a level 100 can cast a spell of higher magnitude and raw output. However, a level 150 or even level 200 mage could cast the same simple spell, like [Mana Bolt], and adjust its formula a dozen times for speed, accuracy, density, or any other properties and still appear identical to the level 30 mage from outside observation. Of course, until the [Mana Bolt] makes an impact with nearly ten times the force. Similar examples can be drawn for any other field of expertise though. Leigh and I were now on a slope of stat difference. While my mental stats in Intelligence and Willpower can¡¯t be contested, her stats in all other fields have increased. I haven¡¯t seen her status directly, but I suspect she has some form of forging-based class for her second class. Her classes, combined with the species bonus of being half-dwarf or dwarf-descended, will dramatically increase her strength and vitality stats without even accounting for the chances of free points. Leigh could likely throw me around like a ragdoll. It is embarrassing to go from helping dad with firewood and tilling the garden, to suddenly being outclassed physically and helping inside instead. Truthfully, I enjoy helping Neia in the kitchen, and we often discuss magic while doing inventory for the pantry and coming up with ideas for food. Even then, though, Leigh has an actual cooking skill and has been leveling up since her system unlocked, making her a much better assistant than me in almost every situation. The only place I still consistently outperform is magic. Having a high intelligence stat grants me a larger mana pool, and a ridiculous willpower stat reflects prodigious control over the mana itself. Yet, despite my abilities, Leigh shows tremendous growth the more she practices. Every time we meet, she has a new question and a new development from the previous lesson. It¡¯s astounding to watch her work with such drive and passion. Inspiring even, as it makes me want to step up my efforts and impress her with my ability. She often seems amazed when I show her new spells, so I¡¯ve found myself sort of relying on that. Our lessons progressed from the [Light] spell, into more complex forms, and different methods. We attempted things like [Mana Bolt] to use the targeting dummy, and simple buff spells like [Tailwind] to improve speed. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. I will admit, I can¡¯t remember too many spells outside of my old specialization, but the basics are simple enough to reverse-engineer if needed. Her enthusiasm for the subject is motivating though. Once my attention focuses on the subject of magic though, I have no choice but to confront the looming shadow of my impending problem. Cain. Leigh has never met my shadowy companion directly and likely has only seen him from a distance. I have to introduce the two to each other eventually, especially if I want Cain to help me with future experiments. Introducing the two of them poses a significant risk, and that worries me. I know Cain will be fine, he¡¯s barely ¡®alive¡¯ in any real meaning of the word so there¡¯s no way for him to do anything to upset Leigh unless I tell him to. The real crux of the problems lies with her then, and how she would react to him. I don¡¯t know how Leigh feels about dark magic or necromancy, and I can¡¯t know without asking her. If I asked her hypothetically it may not even be the truth of the situation, as it suddenly becomes real when faced with an actual undead. From my experience, people react to negatively stereotyped magics in a variety of unpredictable ways. Disgust, horror, fear, or even zealous aggression depending on the religion. I know Leigh is religious, but I don¡¯t know how religious, she¡¯s always stayed very personal with her beliefs. Regardless of how it turns out, they¡¯re both important to me and I want them to get along. I know Cain isn¡¯t particularly self-aware, but the idea of being forced to choose between the two most constant companions in my new life is harrowing. I have to do it. I waited one evening for Leigh to get back from her day¡¯s work at the forge, and met her in front of the house before dinner. ¡°Hey, uh, Leigh? Can I talk to you for a bit this evening?¡± I stammered awkwardly. She seemed to notice my distress and walked over rather calmly. I noticed a ripple of mana around her, and the accumulated soot from a day''s work seemed to evaporate off her body like steam. It was nice to see her using my gift. ¡°Of course Vincent. Is everything okay?¡± She asked softly, and for a moment I felt bad for worrying her at all. ¡°Yeah,¡± I said, ¡°I just have something to show you around back¡± I explained, buying myself a few more choice moments to prepare my explanation. She doesn¡¯t need to know about my memories, but I can¡¯t keep Cain hidden forever, it¡¯s just not feasible. I need an excuse and I need one quickly. We walked around the side of the house towards the cellar, and I could feel my heart pounding in my chest the entire time. ¡°Okay, so I¡¯ll go down and get it from the cellar. I just want to talk to you a bit first?¡± I explained tentatively, the hesitation in my words making the sentence sound more like a question. Leigh nodded with confusion in her eyes and I carried on. ¡°So you know I know magic obviously, and some of what we¡¯ve been practicing has been simple stuff that mom could have helped with, but¡­¡± my voice trailed off. I could feel Leigh watching me intently. ¡°I¡¯ve been doing magic for a very long time.¡± I sighed. ¡°Some of the stuff I figured out by myself can be a bit jarring, and I don¡¯t want to keep it hidden from you but I also don¡¯t want to bother you with it¡± I explained, only partially lying to keep a few choice secrets. I didn¡¯t wait for Leigh to respond, and instead opened up the cellar door and climbed down to go find Cain. He was still down there, but for the first time I found him sitting somewhere other than the exact spot I left him in. He had moved, on his own. A faint smile spread across my face. ¡°Hey bud, I got someone to introduce you to today¡± I explained, hoping that on some level the simple mind he was growing into would appreciate my words. Chapter 29 When Vincent disappeared down the stairs into the cellar, Leigh felt a strange surge of anxiety rush through her. Her oldest friend was acting strange the past few days, and it was worrying her. Then this evening when she arrived home, Vincent was there waiting for her with a serious look on his face. The way he kept talking made it sound like someone had died. Whatever it was couldn¡¯t be that serious, could it? The sound of wooden stairs creaking under his weight as Vincent climbed back to the surface shook Leigh back to her senses. Vincent clambered to the top of the stairs, throwing open both doors to the cellar and stepping into the evening light. Leigh relaxed for a moment and let out a deep exhale. Her ease vanished in an instant when she spotted the creature crouching in her friend''s shadow. Lithe, low to the ground, dark and ominous. It crept forward on all fours, the shadows of the basement clinging to the gaunt lines of its body. It was looking to the side, following Vincent with its eyes, and then it turned towards Leigh. The darkness rippled and Leigh was met with two shining purple pin pricks in the void. At the moment that the two gazes met, the world dropped away, and all that Leigh could see were those two shining sparks of violet in the endless nothing. Those shining embers held a chill beyond words, a primal apathy. It was clearly not human, but it was beyond even a beast or monster. There was something deeply wrong with it and the way it seemed to look through the world rather than at it. A scream choked in her throat and Leigh stumbled back as the creature prowled forward. Bare bones and twisted shadows crept into the sunlight. It''s movements were unnatural, shaking with a false mockery of the living. Leigh tried to scramble backward, tripping on a stone before she could stand. Vincent visibly panicked and whistled a silent signal to the beast, ushering him back into the darkness of the cellar. It pounced down the stairs with practiced ease. Leigh''s eyes jumped to her friend, and the obvious connection turned her fear of the beast into fear of her neighbor. The horror must have been visible on her face, as Vincent recoiled as well. How could he create something like that? ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I didn¡¯t, I wasn¡¯t trying to¡± Vincent stammered, pain in his eyes as he stepped between Leigh and the beast. Leigh glanced between them, and couldn¡¯t find her words. Struggling for breath, she ran from the garden back into the village. She was rushing to her forge, to the sanctity and privacy of her workshop. She slammed the door as she crossed the threshold, clumsily turning the lock as she stumbled into her safe haven. In the solitude of her workshop, Leigh let out a deep and shaking sigh. She couldn¡¯t hold herself back any longer and simply collapsed to her knees, a shaking wave of sobbing crashing over her like a tsunami. Leigh knelt there on the ground, shaking and crying for several minutes until she regained her composure. Yet even still, her mind bristled with fear of that thing hiding in her village under her nose all this time. Leigh felt overwhelmed by her emotions as she struggled to her feet. That creature hadn¡¯t even done anything, yet she could feel how wrong it was. It was an assault to the senses, and battered her mind with fear and mistrust. How could he keep something like that hidden from her? ¡®Did he know I would react like that? Or was he hoping I wouldn¡¯t¡¯ Leigh began to overanalyze the situation, tormented by her muddied feelings. ¡®Where did that creature even come from? Did he make it?¡¯ Leigh began to slowly panic. Eventually she realized overthinking would get her nowhere, and decided to unfurl a cot in the corner of the forge. It was too early to sleep, so she lit her forge and grabbed a bar of steel from the supply. Getting some forge work done might help her relax and hopefully get some sleep tonight. This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. By the time Leigh finally collapsed into the make-shift bed the sun was already rising outside. ------------------------------------------------- When Leigh ran off after meeting Cain for the first time I felt crushed. I don¡¯t know what I had actually been expecting, but it hadn¡¯t been that. Perhaps Daniel¡¯s reaction to Cain the first few times had spoiled my sense of just how disturbing the undead can be for the average person. Looking over Cain now though, I still can¡¯t see it, to me he just has the vacant look of a particularly slow puppy. Maybe that''s a lingering influence from my last life? A result of spending more time with the dead than the living? I don¡¯t know, for now I just need to rest. I made my way into the house for a moment, only stopping to grab a small loaf of bread and some dried meat. A meager dinner I plan to eat alone with Cain in the cellar. I climbed down the familiar steps, closing the cellar behind me, and once again found myself in the solitude of the subterranean workspace. In all these years it has remained a food storage for the family but here recently, after Leigh¡¯s party, dad cleared out the back corner for Cain and I to use as a make-shift study. I had hoped it wouldn¡¯t be permanent, but now I had doubts otherwise. Taking a seat on a small stool tucked in the corner, I began idly chewing my way through the dry jerky. Mindlessly eating, my thoughts found little comfort in the isolation and began to wander. ¡®Why do I even care what Leigh thinks about Cain? Should I really even care what she thinks about me?¡¯ My thoughts began to spiral in self doubt. ¡®She probably would react the same way if she found out about my past life. I can¡¯t expect everyone to be as accepting as mom and dad¡¯, as I continued a dull buzzing sensation built behind my eyes. It brought along a gentle headache, and I chose to sleep it off, curling up in the corner of the basement with Cain to let my frustrations resolve themselves in the night. I¡¯m not sure exactly when I woke up the following morning, but it was after sunrise and the dull rays had already begun seeping in the cracks of the cellar door. Much to my disappointment, I didn¡¯t feel any better having slept on my conundrum. In fact, as I awoke I was met with an ever-present feeling of anger and frustration, one that I had to purposefully try and squash down. ¡®Who cares what Leigh thinks, she¡¯s a rural farm girl who wouldn¡¯t know a thing about mana without my help. Following me around like a lost puppy begging for scraps-¡¯ I had to crush that train of thought before it got too out of hand. It wasn¡¯t Leigh¡¯s fault she was afraid, it was an instinctual reaction. It was strange to think about though. I¡¯d never considered Leigh like that before, so I wasn¡¯t sure where the sudden surge of vitriol came from. It felt familiar enough that I wasn¡¯t worried about some mental influencing spell, but it was hard to place. The more I thought about the more the buzzing behind my eyes seemed to swell. I am fond of Leigh and she can make her own decisions. If she wants to run and hide from me forever, that¡¯s fine. It would be a shame, I am fond of her, but this whole issue raises a question. Is she a true friend and a young woman I am genuinely infatuated with, or is it more like feeding a stray dog?
It¡¯s not important.
It¡¯s not important right now, I have other things to worry about. The next several days passed remarkably slowly. Leigh was clearly avoiding me, and I couldn¡¯t force her to spend time with me if she didn¡¯t want to. Honestly, the privacy to do my own practices has been refreshing. Cain and I walked out into the forest outside of the village several times a day to practice ideas that come to me. The system access still remains blocked, but my connection with Cain has increased. Now, rather than just issuing orders, I can feel his relative position and distance. Even with my eyes closed I can tell where he is. When I finally get access to the full system, I believe I should be able to cast spells through him, using his connection as a form of proxy. Chapter 30 My experiments are going well, and although Leigh has been avoiding me for several days now even that seems to be getting somewhat better. She comes home every now and then, and has once actually eaten dinner here with the family, but she never meets my eyes or responds when I attempt conversation. Small victories I guess. My swelling anger has become more difficult to control though. I¡¯ve gotten into disagreements before, hell I¡¯ve even helped dad fight bandits, but this is different. It¡¯s bothering me so much more for some reason, and I think I know why. The more I think about it, the more I realize I like Leigh. ¡®Whether she¡¯s just a pet project or not, whether I genuinely care for her, it¡¯s all irrelevant¡¯ the buzzing behind my eyes grows louder, seeming to spread to my ears. I think I heard the sound of a distant ding repeated a few times, but the system shouldn¡¯t be able to talk to me at all. ¡®I care what Leigh thinks of me, because she is my friend.¡¯ A dull pressure throbs through my head. I suddenly feel very fatigued, and a sense of worry washes over me. A chill drips down my spine. The feeling of being watched is pervasive. I glance around, finding myself alone in the field behind our house with no sign of anyone else. With a cloudy thought, I call Cain to my side. He arrives quickly, though I can¡¯t say exactly how long, it feels slower than usual. As if the world were moving through a thick syrup. ¡®Leigh is important to me, and I care about her even if I don¡¯t fully understand the depth and degree of my own feelings yet. I should apologize, and try to explain things to her¡¯ The dull buzzing in my head only increases at that, screaming as if it can hear my thoughts. This isn¡¯t just a headache anymore. I lean on Cain and struggle to my feet, each step is laborious as he leads me back to the house. ¡®I don¡¯t know what¡¯s happening. This isn¡¯t magic, I can¡¯t feel any interference. I need help. Mom.¡¯ We walk onwards and my thoughts only grow more cloudy. A hazy fugue overtaking me. My vision waivers and vertigo suffuses my senses. For several seconds I feel as if I¡¯m falling only to find myself standing at the edge of our garden when the feeling fades. ¡®How did I get here?¡¯ I stare up at the house, trying to will myself inside as I find my feet unresponsive. Then I actually did fall. The world spun around me, and my already hazy vision was overtaken by blue morning sky and distant clouds while I tumbled backwards. I must have lost consciousness, because I don¡¯t remember anything else after that, until I woke up inside on my bed. I¡¯m not sure exactly how long I was asleep, but it was still daytime at least. The room was empty, but I could hear mom and dad murmuring in the kitchen. I was just barely unable to make out what they were talking about. I tried climbing out of bed and nearly stepped on Cain since he was laid out on the floor just out of sight. I don¡¯t recall giving him an order to follow me, I hope this is a good sign. I walked into the kitchen and Daniel was the first to notice me. ¡°Hey there bud! Feeling any better?¡± He smiled, clearly cutting off whatever conversation he had just been having. Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. I only manage a meek nod in response. ¡°Do you have any idea what happened, sugarplum?¡± mom asked me with a worried look on her face. I didn¡¯t want to overly worry her, but I answered truthfully anyway. ¡°Honestly I have no idea. I barely remember walking home from practicing in the field¡±. Mom and dad looked concerned, but didn¡¯t press the subject. ¡°If you start to feel it happening again I want you to tell somebody okay? And if we need to ride to Alberack to see a healer I can get a wagon.¡± Dad instructed, prompting an unconscious smile to spread across my face. He was always trying to identify a problem and fix it. It¡¯s kind of endearing. ¡°Thanks, really, but I feel fine right now. I promise I¡¯ll let you know if something happens¡± I tried to reassure them. They both nod their agreement, but I got the feeling they weren¡¯t buying my story. Stepping forward, I¡¯m about to leave the kitchen when mom stops me with a hand on my shoulder. She gestures to the front door and murmurs, ¡°Somebody¡¯s waiting outside to talk to you¡±, giving me a knowing look. I take a deep breath and move towards the door. The evening sun came as a shock when I stepped outside, more so finding Leigh sitting on a stool by the garden gate. I can¡¯t find any words to say at the moment, and just keep walking forward. She looks up at me and asks ¡°Can we talk?¡± and I feel a part of me shatter. ¡°Sure.¡± I sigh, leaning against the fence a few feet away from her. ¡°What do you want to talk about?¡± A long silence followed. Leigh broke the silence abruptly, not caring for any small talk. ¡°Did you kill that wolf just to make an undead?¡± she asked with a cold and distant tone. ¡°No. We found him in the woods, already dead. I needed something to raise but I didn¡¯t want to kill anything unnecessarily.¡± I answered honestly, cutting off the following thought. ¡®I don¡¯t want to go back to that kind of life. Slaughtering animals and monsters to piece together minions. ¡¯ Leigh took in my words and paused for another tense moment. ¡°Did you kill my dad?¡± She asked, her voice trembling and her hands visibly shaking. It hurts to know she¡¯s so afraid of me after a single mistake. ¡°No.¡± is all I can tell her, no other words seem fitting. ¡°Have you ever killed anyone?¡± she asks, looking at me for the first time in days. I struggle to meet her eyes and it feels like she¡¯s begging me to say no. I recall the bandits dad and I encountered on our way to Alberack and I can¡¯t bring myself to lie to her. ¡°Yes.¡± I sigh, briefly remembering a lifetime of battles fought as Andras Gregori. The vast majority of my memories feel foggy and cloudy, but even still the smell of blood and monster guts is vivid. In my first life the mortal races were united against a common enemy, there was no shortage of corpses to be found. Grave robbing may be illegal, but it was a far cry from murder. Vincent Stesk had killed a man in self defense, but it was my first kill all the same. ¡°Why?¡± Leigh¡¯s next question pulls me from a spiral of memory, and I look back into her eyes seeing her building doubts. ¡°That¡¯s a long story¡± I begin, slowly detailing the journey to Alberach and the circumstances we found ourselves in. I ramble for what felt like hours, and Leigh doesn¡¯t say a single word the entire time. When I finally finish, another heavy silence falls. ¡°I never said thank you, for saving me when we were kids¡± Leigh broke the silence, and I can¡¯t help but laugh. ¡°You helped take care of me for three days while I was in a coma, do you really think I¡¯m worried about you saying thank you?¡± I ask rhetorically, looking down at the fading scars that splinter across my hands. A reminder of those old mana burns. I saw Leigh stand up in my peripheral vision, turning to her, I watch as she seems caught in some internal debate. She mutters ¡°Goodnight¡± and turns to walk back into the house. Chapter 31 17 years Over the past several months, Leigh and I have been slowly rebuilding our relationship. It hasn¡¯t been easy, and occasionally she still looks at me with that unshakable fear in her eyes. Thankfully though, her trepidation seems to fade with each passing day. After a few weeks, we resumed our magic lessons, and she has made significant progress. The initial overflow from her birthday carried her to level two in her tier 3 class and Leigh has since progressed ten levels further, nearly halfway to her tier four class already. Of course, this new influx of levels has only widened the gap between her stats and my own, and with the influx of free points she has spent on upgrading her intelligence stat, Leigh has recently passed me in that regard. A temporary issue, almost assuredly, and her willpower and fine mana control remain leagues behind my own. I will admit though, it has wounded my pride slightly. Having to leverage every skill and trick I know to compete with her system-assisted talents is frustrating, to say the least. However, a little frustration is much better than her ignoring me for days on end. Though, I do have an idea that should help with that. [Summoning]. After her father left town, Leigh moved into the house with Mom, Dad, and me, and yet I failed to consider the possibility that she had somehow been lonely or struggling with the concurrent loss. Leigh had both of her parents taken from her in a relatively short period of time, and in my endless stupidity, I didn¡¯t consider that she might be trying to hide her pain from us. Cain, in his limited mental capacity, has been a grounding rock for my own emotional state since I raised him. If I manage to convince Leigh to form a bond with a more traditional summoned minion, hers stands to be a much more intelligent creature and provide the same companionship as a more traditional pet, but without the looming threat of animal mortality. If a summoned creature is killed, simply resummon it. The average dimensional spirit lives for an exponentially longer time than even the most long-lived mortals. I still have to convince her that it¡¯s a good idea though. So, I¡¯ve decided to meet her at her forge early this morning and discuss it with her. Maybe help her find a skill to supplement the spell, carve a ritual circle, and get all the preparations we can do ahead of time done. I want to help her summon the best familiar possible. When I arrive at the forge late in the morning, I can already see smoke rising from the chimney and hear the sounds of ringing metal echoing inside. No point in knocking, Leigh won¡¯t hear me anyway. Opening up the door, I stepped inside the aging building to an immediate assault of heat and sound. I start waving my hands over my head and shouting the best I can to get Leigh¡¯s attention, but even then it takes a while. She has a tendency to hyper-focus on her work. She walks over, gently tapping her amulet to purge the sweat from her brow, and greets me casually. ¡°Hey Vincent, what¡¯s up?¡± for a moment I swear I see a touch of anxiety cloud her gaze, but it¡¯s gone before I address it so I grit my teeth and move on. The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°Uh, Hey Leigh. I just had something I wanted to talk to you about, didn¡¯t mean to interrupt¡± I stammer awkwardly, casting my gaze to the ground. Unfortunately, that didn¡¯t do much to hide my eyes from Leigh. I was taller than her when we were both kids, mostly in part to her dwarven blood, but with time that gap has only gotten wider. Our mutual growth spurts have supplied us both with a slurry of changes in the past few years. For my own part I have gotten significantly taller, though my weight and musculature still remain below average. Mother likes to call me ¡®slim¡¯ but I just think I¡¯m lanky. I stand only a few centimeters shorter than Dad, but nowhere near his weight. It¡¯s embarrassing at times, but I just try to remember I¡¯m not a warrior like he is. Leigh, on the other hand, has dramatically come into her own. While still standing significantly shorter than I do, she has sprouted up about as far as a dwarf-kin can be expected to. I am approaching nearly an even 180 centimeters, and Leigh is easily below 160. Though for her lack of stature, she is surprisingly imposing. I will never venture as far as to call her ¡®dense¡¯, but she is certainly compact. With her high vitality and strength scores, not only is she broad and healthy, but surprisingly muscular as well. A combined side effect of her system stats and a lifetime of working in her forge. As we grow older, though her height seems stagnant, her figure continues to fill out in various ways. I find myself lost in a train of thought for several moments before Leigh sighs deeply and leans forward to catch my downcast eyes. She looks frustrated. ¡°Vincent, I appreciate you coming down here to check on me from time to time, but I don¡¯t appreciate unnecessary interruptions¡± she explains softly. I¡¯m not sure I like her tone, part of me feels condescended to. ¡°What¡¯s this about?¡± Leigh asks before I can voice my complaints. ¡°Oh, uhm, right¡± I stammer nervously. ¡°So uh, a few weeks ago when I ¡®introduced¡¯ you to my, uh, well, yeah¡± I wilted under her skeptical gaze. I know truthfully that if I just come out and say what I¡¯m thinking Leigh will make her own decision, but I find myself afraid to upset her again. Whenever I think about how she reacted to Cain, or what I could have done better or how to tell her the truth about my memories, that horrible buzzing behind my eyes comes back. I would like to avoid that, so I¡¯m choosing to do my best without thinking too deeply about it. ¡°Well, it got me thinking. I know you don¡¯t really like my own methods, but I¡¯ve been worried about you and how much time you spend alone¡­¡± My voice trails off and my face feels hot very suddenly. I don¡¯t think the forge normally bothers me this much. ¡°I know things have been hard on you for a long time, and I can¡¯t really fix anything like that, but I thought I could help?¡± I take a breath before I start rambling too far. ¡°I was wondering if you¡¯d be interested in learning a more traditional summoning spell? For a familiar of your own?¡± Leigh¡¯s eyebrow arched up in response to my question, clearly displaying her curiosity towards the idea. ¡°I definitely want to hear more about it, but I have to finish this project for your mom first.¡± Leigh gestures to the piece of steel sitting by her forge. ¡°She asked me to use [Mana Crafting] to make her a new stove for the house. Self Lighting.¡± Leigh paused before lightly punching me in the shoulder. It was playful, but with her stats still a bit painful. ¡°Wanna help?¡± She asked tentatively. I did not hesitate to answer. ¡°Yeah!¡± Truthfully I don¡¯t care too much for forge work and crafting beyond more traditional magic trinkets and mage gear, I was just happy to have an excuse to be with my friend again. Chapter 32 A few weeks later Preparations with Leigh have been going well. Sometimes I can tell she¡¯s still apprehensive around me, but we¡¯ve been making steady progress on the ritual and she finished Mom¡¯s stove request days ago. We discussed the potential of summoning, and both agreed that Leigh would be best served by some form of fire-attuned spirit. A simple fire element would be the easiest to contract, or maybe even a heightened heat element. Leigh made a good point about her dwarven blood giving influence to earth magic as well, so a Magma or Forge-attuned spirit wouldn¡¯t be impossible and would likely be the most effective for her future endeavors. We have a lot of things to do to get ready for the actual day of the summoning, so things are likely to be very busy for some time now. The first, and perhaps the easiest task, is to transcribe the actual spell chant for Leigh to learn. With a summoning contract like this, higher efficiency isn¡¯t going to directly translate to something as tangible as spell power, but it definitely allows for a more favorable contract to be struck. Unfortunately, due to my specialization, I never ventured into practicing summoning magics much at all. So as a result I can¡¯t quite recall the entire familiar contract from memory, but I can recall the gist of it and fill out the rest through context and theory craft. I doubt it will be fully optimized, but it will definitely be better than nothing. It still requires work though, so as I continue to make progress there the other preparations come along nicely. Leigh has been image training in her forge for the past several days, contemplating the kind of familiar she¡¯d like and what elements resonate most with her personally. Right now I¡¯m on my way to her workshop to assist in the drawing of a ritual circle to focus the summoning itself. The actual circle need not be very big, but if we get sufficient detail it will be a tremendous improvement over the base spellform. Luckily I can remember enough of the conjuration sigils to construct something passable even if I can¡¯t fully recall the optimized version of the spell. ¡°Cirune¡¯s Summoning¡± is included in every beginner spellbook, but I wasn¡¯t exactly a traditional mage on my first go around. ¡°Good morning Leigh!¡± I call out as I open the door to her workshop and stride my way inside. I find Leigh sharpening a set of chisels at her workbench, the forge itself cold and unlit. ¡°Are you wanting to finish the circle today?¡± I ask, crossing the distance to her workspace. ¡°Yeah.¡± She grunts, putting the finishing touches on the chisel in her hands. ¡°I think that¡¯s really the last thing I can worry about until you finish that translation thing you were talking about¡± Leigh replies with a nod. ¡°It wasn¡¯t so much a translation as it-¡± I start to counter, but catch myself mid-sentence. ¡°You know what, it¡¯s really not that important¡± I explain through gritted teeth. My constant need to show off and prove my worth temporarily getting the better of me. A faint buzz echoes behind my eyes. ¡°It¡¯s almost done anyway, I should be able to finish it tomorrow.¡± I explain, glancing over the diagram Leigh and I had sketched onto the floor in chalk. It was almost exactly fifty centimeters in diameter and as close to a perfect circle as we could manage. I double-checked the sigils one last time and asked Leigh over my shoulder, ¡°Does the diagram make sense to you? Your intent when drawing can be just as important as the final structure.¡± She didn¡¯t respond immediately, merely rolled her eyes and silently nodded. ¡°I¡¯ve been over it enough times to scrawl it in my sleep. I know what it does¡± Leigh huffed. Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. ¡°Okay, Okay, Sorry. I meant no offense¡± I laugh, taking a piece of chalk from the drawer of her workbench and moving across the room. Leigh cleared a section of the workshop floor yesterday specifically for the ritual to take place. She places the diagram in the center of the floor between us and we begin carefully scribing the shapes in chalk. The circle isn¡¯t overly large, but with multiple intertwined rings of sigils it is vastly complex. We spend the next several hours drawing, correcting, and redrawing the summoning circle as the day creeps onward. By the time we complete the complex symbol, it¡¯s already time to break for lunch. I¡¯m about to leave the forge when Leigh calls out to me, ¡°Hey Vincent? I¡¯m gonna work on the offering thing you told me about for the rest of the day, see what I can come up with. Can you ask your mom to just send some food down here?¡±. Her dedication, as usual, is unwavering. ¡°Yeah, sure thing¡± I call over my shoulder when I finally exit. I make my way quickly to the edge of the village and up the small hill that leads home, relaying Leigh¡¯s message as soon as I arrive. Mom agrees without hesitation and begins packing up a small satchel to take down to Leigh. I briefly offer to make the trip myself, but Mother refuses saying ¡°I have some things to talk to Leigh about anyway, don¡¯t worry yourself dear. I know you¡¯re both working hard¡±. Then, much to my frustration, Neia kisses me on the forehead and leaves, fully ignoring my protests that I am far too old for such things now. I¡¯m not quite sure how long Mom was gone since I moved into the cellar almost immediately after finishing my own dinner. I worked well past sundown in order to finish my transcription of the chant Leigh would use to summon her familiar, and by the time I returned to the house Neia and Daniel were already in bed for the night. The transcription itself was more tedious than difficult, having to manually work through the individual concepts to reverse engineer a simple spell I¡¯d never bothered to learn properly. As soon as I got back into my own bed, I collapsed into a much-needed sleep. When I awake the following morning, I groan in surprise as the curtains of my small bedroom are abruptly drawn open. Forcefully blinking away the dazzling sunlight, I look up to see Leigh already standing over my bed impatiently, her hands on her hips. ¡°What?¡± I grumble, rubbing my still groggy face and sitting up on my single bed. ¡°It¡¯s almost noon Vincent. How long are you going to sleep?¡± Leigh asks with a huff. She seems almost upset at me, but I have to remember she¡¯s likely nervous about the summoning. ¡°Sorry. Sorry.¡± I groan, sliding out of bed and pulling my boots on. ¡°I stayed up late to finish the transcription. We can do the ritual after I eat.¡± Leigh seems excited to hear the news and briefly lunges forward as if to hug me before she stops cold. ¡°Thanks..¡± She murmurs, and exits my bedroom, leaving me to get dressed in peace. I quickly throw on my clothes, not caring much to think beyond clean, and move to the kitchen for breakfast. Leigh was already sitting at the table, chatting idly with Mom as they both ate breakfast. Their conversation grinds to a halt as I enter. ¡°Good morning sugarplum!¡± Mom calls out to me, gesturing to a pre-set place at the table. I sit down in silence and start eating without delay. My stomach grumbles one final protest before the food hits my lips. ¡°I hear you two are doing a little project today?¡± Mom asks, tilting her head toward Leigh. ¡°Yeah,¡± I mumble, my mouth full of fresh bread as I chew without stopping. ¡°Vincent is going to show me how to summon a familiar today¡± Leigh interjects, explaining in my place as I finish my breakfast. I glance up at her and notice she¡¯s already finished eating, and jittering nervously in place. I sigh internally, feeling a faint buzz trying to build in my head. I close my eyes and try to convince myself she¡¯s just excited. It¡¯s okay. I choke down a few more bites of food, take a deep swig of water, and stand up from the table. ¡°Okay. Are you ready to go Leigh?¡± She jumps out of her seat and beats me to the door. By the time I¡¯ve made it outside, she¡¯s already a good few steps down the road. I sigh and smile. ¡°Wait for me!¡± Chapter 33 Leigh¡¯s frantic pace back to the forge is almost endearing to watch. She¡¯s clearly excited about having a familiar of her own, even if she¡¯s made it clear she¡¯d rather avoid my own companion. Leigh arrives back in the workshop before I¡¯ve even reached the same street. By the time I arrive outside, she¡¯s already lit the forge and I can hear her scurrying around making preparations. I walk into the building rather casually, calling out ¡°Leigh?¡± to announce my presence. She immediately rounds a corner with a small crate on her shoulder, a casual display of her system-enhanced strength. ¡°Right here.¡± Leigh responds, waving idly to me. ¡°Do me a favor and clear off the workbench for me?¡± she asks as she walks past. I have to hurry a bit to press past her and reach the table before she does, but I manage to clear off enough space for her to set down the cargo. Leigh immediately starts clearing off the rest of the table, and I do my best to help. Within a few minutes, we have the table fully cleared and ready for work. ¡°I take it the box is your offerings for the familiar?¡± I ask as Leigh begins to unpack a small horde of various trinkets. A few scraps of various metals, a candle, a lump of charcoal, rocks, and ashes are among the materials she produces from the crate and each of them is clearly aligned with one or more magical elements. ¡°Yeah¡± Leigh answers, ¡°I focused on the fire and earth-aligned ones like you suggested. I have a bunch of different metals too, so if I can¡¯t get forge I¡¯m hoping for metal or magic metal.¡± Throughout her explanation, I can hear the faint worry of failure creeping its way into her voice. ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll summon something great, people with half as much talent as you don¡¯t work nearly as hard.¡± I laugh, trying to ease the mood in the room. Leigh chuckles but still seems nervous. ¡°Hey, uh, Vincent. You never really told me how you learned all this stuff¡± She mumbles a few minutes later after the silence has grown long. ¡°I can see your Mom teaching you some of this but I don¡¯t think she¡¯d¡­¡± Leigh¡¯s voice trails off and I can tell exactly what she¡¯s thinking. Cain. Mom never would have taught me actual necromancy like that, and Dad can barely cast anything. My knowledge of magic doesn¡¯t seem to add up from her perspective. The unasked question seems to hang heavy in the air, and I can¡¯t help but wonder how long Leigh has been stewing on this. ¡°I¡¯m not sure how to answer that in a way that won¡¯t upset us both¡± I sigh, turning around and leaning back against the workbench. ¡°I know it¡¯s pretty obvious that I know more about magic than I reasonably should, and I really would love to tell you everything. I just-¡± I pause, taking a deep breath as I try to stamp out the growing buzz behind my eyes. It feels like a swarm of bees has invaded my head, I can barely think straight for the first moment. ¡°I just worry that you won¡¯t think of me the same after. I know you won¡¯t, even. After I introduced you to, you know, I¡¯m not sure I could take that¡± I finally manage to explain, each word ground out deliberately. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. There¡¯s another long drawn-out silence. ¡°I was scared, Vincent. What did you expect me to do?¡± Leigh sighs at me. I can¡¯t find the words to answer her. ¡°I appreciate that you were honest with me when I asked, but in that first moment, I didn¡¯t know what to think. My dad was gone, and even if I wanted him gone it was scary. I knew it had to be something, but nobody would tell me what actually happened. And then¡± Leigh¡¯s voice catches in her throat. ¡°Then you show me this undead wolf, all bones and shadow, and I¡¯m thinking ¡®dear gods, Vincent killed my dad. He kills things for fun¡¯ and I think it was a little understandable to freak out¡± She explains, stress and fatigue melting off with every word as if she¡¯d been holding back for weeks. I can¡¯t refute anything she¡¯s said, and each word lands like a hammer blow. I hadn¡¯t realized just how deeply it had bothered her, I thought she was just scared of Cain. ¡°I never meant to scare you. I just - ¡± I try to explain, but Leigh catches me off guard. ¡°Vincent. Have you noticed the smell?¡± She asks with a disappointed look. I have no idea what she¡¯s talking about, but I don¡¯t want to sound like a fool by asking ¡®what smell?¡¯. She must have been able to read the confusion on my face anyway. ¡°The smell in the cellar. I can always tell when you¡¯ve been down there, the whole place smells like dust, soil, and bone, just like the lot behind the butcher, or the cemetery at the church.¡± Leigh explains, much to my horror. ¡°The cellar smells like it, you smell like it when you come out from down there, and that wolf is worse.¡± Leigh finishes, and I am at a loss. I hadn¡¯t noticed in the slightest, and I have no idea why no one has told me before now. Confusion swells with disappointment and shame, but beneath it all simmers a growing bubbling rage. I¡¯m furious. Angry at everyone for not telling me, angry at Leigh for misunderstanding Cain, for misunderstanding me. That fury feels foreign though, like a phantom limb or forgotten memory. It buzzes on the edge of my mind until I wrestle it away. I¡¯m not sure how long it takes, but when I open my clenched eyes, Leigh is staring at me with worry. ¡°I¡¯m sorry Leigh. I didn¡¯t know. Let¡¯s just do the summoning okay?¡± I suggest meekly, feeling strength fading from my limbs. There¡¯s a sharp sting in my hand, and I glance down, reflexively opening my fingers. My hand had clinched so tightly that my nails dug four tiny divots into my palm, each of them now faintly bleeding. I press my palm into my shirt while Leigh finishes her preparations for making a summoning contract. She arranges every trinket she¡¯s thought to offer along the outer perimeter of the circle we drew. I hand her the transcription of the chant I¡¯ve written and tell her to imagine what she wants while she studies it. I know she won¡¯t need to recite it perfectly, but the look of determination on her face makes me hope she will. For my part, I just want to get this all over with now. I wasn¡¯t expecting all this today, and I could really use a nap. Chapter 34 Once we put all the individual ingredients into place, the ritual to summon and contract a familiar spirit is actually pretty easy. Leigh moves to stand in the center of the circle, my transcription of the chant clutched tight in her hand. She closes her eyes, likely recalling her image training and focusing on what she wants from her familiar. Leigh¡¯s voice takes on a deep and imposing quality as she recites the words of power. I wish I could have transcribed it in dwarvish for her to focus the spell further, but I never learned the language, Hikos will have to do. The whole ritual only takes a few minutes, and Leigh repeats the transcribed chant twice. The words themselves are less important than the image they evoke. An image of partnership, assistance, and mutual growth. The single lit candle at the circle''s edge flickers as Leigh¡¯s words draw to a close. She pronounces the final few syllables and closes her eyes tight in focus. I can feel her mana pouring into the circle, creating a beacon for spirits to follow back to our plane. All at once, the ritual ends with a flash. The circle flares with amber light, and the chalk burns away. Leigh¡¯s offerings are taken, though not all of them. The charcoal chunk smolders and vanishes, and the metal scraps seem to melt and evaporate, though the candle is snuffed out. I have to blink away the momentary blindness of the sudden flash, but when I regain my senses, Leigh is kneeling in the circle face to face with a small black piglet. Two tiny tusks jutting out from its mouth announce it as a boar and not a pig. On closer inspection, the black bristly fur on its back shimmers with hidden embers whenever the pig moves. Leigh has succeeded and summoned a fire-attuned spirit at the minimum. Right now she¡¯s talking to the spirit to forge a contract, their silent communication apparent whenever body language bleeds through. I hope it¡¯s going well. --------------------------------------------------------------------- Leigh¡¯s perspective on the ritual Leigh presses her focus hard as the chant comes to an end. She can feel the sweat dripping down the sides of her face, mana coursing through her veins. This is by far the single most difficult piece of magic she¡¯s performed so far, and her third class is likely doing most of the work. The final syllables of the chant are almost painful, and accompanied an iron taste as they escape her lips. Leigh can barely hear the flash of burning over the sound of throbbing heartbeats in her ears, even still the flash of light is visible through her eyelids, and she knows something has happened. ¡®Hello, mortal.¡¯ a voice rings gently in her mind. Leigh opens her eyes to find a tiny bristly black boar made of smoldering charcoal standing by her feet. She kneels down to face the piglet, and recalls Vincent¡¯s advice on how to deal with spirits. ¡®Hail and well met, noble spirit¡¯ she thinks broadly, feeling a tentative mental connection with the creature. ¡®I am Leigh Kisgrick, Blacksmith and apprentice Mage. I have summoned you here to forge a contract.¡¯ This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. ¡®I know very well while you have called into the Aether mortal. Speak your terms¡¯ the spirit states, its tone dismissive. Even in Leigh¡¯s mind, the creature¡¯s voice sounds like a crackling fire. ¡®If I may ask you first noble spirit, of what element are you aligned? I can tell quite clearly you bear fire at least partially, but beyond that¡­¡¯ Leigh interrupts, her overly formal words difficult and tense. ¡®You are correct. I am of fire, but I am also of earth, of ore, and of metal. I am the flame of the hearth and the heat of the forge.¡¯ The tiny pig explains, and Leigh says a silent prayer of thanks to the forge-lord. ¡®In that case noble spirit, I would be forever grateful to form a pact of allegiance with you. I seek to further my craft as a smith, and empower my magic. I believe you can do both. What would you ask in return?¡¯ The burning boar snorts in response, and even with the distance between them Leigh can feel the heat. ¡®I am still considered young for my kind mortal, though I know not how your people measure age. Your terms would facilitate my growth well. We are of similar alignments, and I can smell the potency of your mana.¡¯ The explanation is cut short by a high pitched squeal echoing through Leigh¡¯s thoughts. ¡®My terms are such. You will sacrifice a craft of your making to me once every ten levels, you will pay the cost of summoning my material form each time, and 70% of the mana for my powers.¡¯ Leigh winces as the numbers are presented. Vincent had told her certain spirits would ask for full mana coverage, but he seemed confident most contracts were lower than that. Leigh¡¯s presented price is steep. ¡®Would you be agreeable to an even 50/50 split on the cost of your powers if I let you request the form of the sacrifice made each cycle?¡¯ Leigh asks tentatively, afraid to press for a more beneficial contract and risk losing the spirit¡¯s willingness to cooperate. ¡®That is reasonable. You have a deal Leigh Kisgrick.¡¯ The boar roars triumphantly, this time audibly letting its swine call echo in the forge. Vincent smiles towards Leigh when he realizes her contract has been a success, and she nods to him gently. As she stands back up, Leigh is met by a system dialogue that seems to rise to meet her from her new companion.
You have formed a contract with [F??????o??????r?????????g??????e????????? ???????b???????o?????a????????r???????- lvl ??]. Soul binding initiated¡­ Soul binding complete. Please name your new familiar.
¡°It is a pleasure to meet you. Cinder.¡± Leigh said to the smoldering piglet who squealed joyfully in response. Though she could hear the sound, the meaning was conveyed into her mind directly. ¡®Well met.¡¯ With a clear signal that the ritual is over, Vincent rushes into the circle and politely introduces himself to Cinder. Leigh stifles a laugh when she sees her old friend bowing to a piglet, but the humor is replaced with surprise when Cinder bows their head in response. ¡®Now. Leigh. I would very much like to be shown around your forge.¡¯ Cinder explains, trotting over to stand by Leigh¡¯s feet and looking up at her. His eyes smolder a bright orange. ¡®You may lift me.¡¯ Chapter 35 6 months until Vincent¡¯s system unlock. The day I¡¯ve long been waiting for is drawing closer every minute. Just a few years ago, six months felt like an eternity, and now I wonder if I¡¯ll have time to do all the last minute preparations I¡¯ve thought of. Somehow though, I¡¯m filled with a warm confidence that all is well. The system unlock will be eventful if nothing else. My current goals are threefold. I want to begin transcribing spells in earnest to lay the foundation for a wizardry focused class rather than a catch-all mage. Second, I plan to go through as many individual spells and rituals as I can recall, casting each of them. My hope is that at least a few of the spells are too advanced for this era and will earn some form of reward from the system. First time bonuses aren¡¯t unheard of. Finally, even though I¡¯m level one I need more combat practice. Several events have proven to me I won¡¯t always be able to rely on minions. The bandit run-in with Dad, Leigh¡¯s reaction to Cain, and the logistics of a sizable undead force all suggest there will be times when it is either too costly, or too dangerous to rely on an army of minions. Even if my instincts scream at me otherwise. Perhaps if I build enough reputation as a force for good the common folk can overlook such issues? I digress. While not directly tied to preparing for system unlock day, I also want to experiment with the strange sensations I¡¯ve been having lately. The buzzing in my head and swelling anger are concerning, and even if I can¡¯t truly solve the issue, learning what causes it will help me better control any episodes. With such a full list of ideas, time is quickly becoming a sparse resource. I regret having not prepared in more depth sooner, being content in practicing my skills from memory. I suppose that would be fine if I just want to live as Andras Gregori again, with the same class and skills, but that would be a waste of my second chance. I want to be better. I will be better. It has just taken me a while to realize that ambition fully. As such, I have no time left to waste. The largest hurdle to spell transcribing is writing materials. Parchments and ink are fairly expensive, hence why Neia used slate and chalk to teach me reading. In the worst case scenario I can use a similar method, or even charcoal and tree bark, but truly written paper and ink spells is my current goal. System interference can be strangely semantic about methodology, and I don¡¯t want to risk anything. To that end, I¡¯m making my way to the edge of the village. I want to find Dad and ask him for a few favors next time he rides to Alberack. My wanderings are peaceful, and I find father at the edge of the village helping one of the Prescot brothers tie a fresh boar onto a branch for carrying. It¡¯s a sizable beast, with a fresh puncture wound near the neck that tells me father has been hunting today. I hope Cinder doesn¡¯t freak out if they see a dead pig. Regardless, I stride up to the hunters and call out. ¡°Dad! Good morning.¡±, even though it was almost noon already. The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Dad finishes tying a knot around the boar¡¯s ankles before turning to greet me. Mr. Prescot¡¯s younger brother, also Mr. Prescot since I¡¯ve never bothered to learn their first names, grabs the branch and braces against his shoulder. Daniel approaches me as Mr. Prescot effortlessly carries the boar into town. ¡°Hey bud, What''s got you out here so far this morning?¡± he asks, gently clasping me by the shoulder and turning to walk us around the perimeter of the village. ¡°Well, I just didn¡¯t know when you¡¯d be going to Alberack next, and I¡¯ve been thinking about my system unlock lately. I could use a few things for class experiments¡­¡± I explain, and dad just laughs and ruffles my hair. ¡°Somehow I knew it was going to be magic related. You never get so driven about anything else.¡± Indignant, I huff slightly and voice my second request for Dad. ¡°I also want to get more combat practice, before and after the system unlocks. Do you think you could give me a few pointers on form? Maybe do a few sparring sessions?¡± I look up at dad, hopefully. Despite my recent growth spurts, dad still looks down at me from his height, and at this point I¡¯m not sure I¡¯ll ever catch up to him. ¡°I¡¯d actually really like that Vincent.¡± He smiles. ¡°I always enjoy getting to spend time with you, and if I can whip you into shape while doing it, all the better.¡± Dad smirks, and I suddenly regret my decision in asking. ¡°Gotta make up for all that time you¡¯ve skipped practicing since unlocking your [Combat Footwork] skill.¡± I couldn¡¯t help but shudder. When it comes to combat training I¡¯d either describe Daniel as brutally effective, or effectively brutal. The end result is the same. ¡°Tell you what bud¡± Dad sighs as we near the house. ¡°I was actually planning to head to Alberack in about three days. A couple folks around town are needing me to pick up some things, and while I¡¯m there I¡¯ll see what I can do. Meanwhile I¡¯ll get one of the Prescot boys to carve up some training weapons. Gives them time to get it done before I¡¯m back.¡± We enter through the garden and pause outside the kitchen door. ¡°That¡¯d be great dad!¡± I tackle Daniel into a hug, and he pretends my measly 10 strength is actually affecting him. We leave the conversation there and head inside for lunch. ------------------------------------------------------------------ The days leading up to Dad¡¯s departure, and the wait for his inevitable return are excruciating. I know that no amount of anxious anticipation will bring him back any sooner, but for the first time in a long while I actually find myself looking forward to my day to day activities. Every sunrise brings me closer to my ambitions. Nearly a full tenday after he originally left, Dad finally returns home, much to the excitement of the village. He has new bolts of fabric, a few treated hides and leathers, some metal for Leigh, and specialty tools from across the country. Even with his system boosted strength the sheer quantity of items he was conveying required Dad to pull a small cart behind him on his return. He makes his way slowly through the town square, stopping frequently and delivering parcels like a common courier. I can see him in the distance, and hear the frequent chatter echoing up the hill to our house. Barely restraining myself, I continue peeling onions at the kitchen window like Mother asked me to. Tossing the discarded papers and skins into the garden for mulch. Daniel arrives home much later than I expected, after I had zoned out of focus and lost myself in my task. He shakes me from my haze with a loud thud, placing a stack of three leather bound tomes on our shared table. A small handful of quills, and two bottles of ink follow shortly after. Now my experiments can truly begin in earnest. Chapter 36 The following is a collection of experimentation notes from the early experiments of the wandering mage. Known By many names, the wandering mage¡¯s works are treasures of early magic theory, though few can prove their authenticity. In some texts the wandering mage refers to themselves in the third person, and recalls having lived many lives in many different names. As such, a prevailing theory claims the wandering mage as an immortal agent of Caais, the god of magic. Or perhaps Caais himself. Experiment I - Spell Transcription In my efforts to transcribe spells into one of the books father brought back to me, I¡¯ve discovered several key factors. First, the paper quality in this region or perhaps this era is subpar at best. It¡¯s not even truly paper or even papyrus, it appears to be a crude form of vellum. Durable, but difficult to work with. Secondly, if I write the spells with enough precision the resulting page can function as a spell scroll. It requires the spell form to be drawn, not just the chant, but a spell form without chant does indeed work. This isn¡¯t news to me, however the vellum material I¡¯m working with is durable enough to actually survive the spell being cast. Perhaps the ambient mana of animal skin allows it to resist the feed back? Regardless, I am currently transcribing every spell form I can remember of low enough mana demand. My hope is to cast them all at least once. Experiment V - Transcription of Partial Spells I have at this point transcribed every first and second tier spell I can fully recall, regardless of their mana costs. Of the three books father has given me, the first is dedicated to my research notes, this current volume. The second and third I have dedicated to the actual experiments. The second volume is nearly filled, and with the remaining pages I plan to attempt to reverse engineer any spells I can¡¯t fully recall. Experiment IX - Transcription of spells from memory. My first attempt to transcribe a partial spell was a resounding success, albeit a bit painful. Shortly after beginning, the familiar buzzing pain in the front of my mind returns. My focus falters, and the pain becomes almost unbearable. In that hazy moment of pain I¡¯m not sure exactly where I am, and I have no memory of the time. However, when I regain consciousness, the page before me is completed flawlessly. I have been able to replicate this event three times now, and if not for the pain I would have continued. I believe these episodes, all linked by the pain in my head, bear some connection to my memories. My first life as Andras Gregori. Experiment XII - Casting of spells unknown to the system. Attempting to cast a spell that has yet to be invented does not go well. The mana backlash is incredible, though that seems to be a factor of the increased mana density of this age. Beyond that, the system itself has a form of backlash. A cacophony of pings and error messages as it attempts to reconcile itself nearly deafens me every time I make an attempt. The predominant error is ¡°Unknown users'''' which suggests a plural I don¡¯t understand. The unknown aspect however is likely a result of my current system lock out, and will hopefully be rectified in coming weeks when my system fully unlocks. This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Experiment XV - Lowering mana input for similar results Since the system revolts every time I try to cast more technically advanced spells from my memory, I have elected to shift my focus to well tested and ancient spells. While less individually complex, there is potency in their simplicity. I believe in this era of increased mana density is when they will truly shine as well. Casting simple spells such as [Life Tap] or even [Spark] has proven extremely effective, and reducing the initial mana input has had no noticeable effect on potency. Without more detailed measuring apparati I can¡¯t know for certain, but I believe the higher natural mana density is allowing spells to generate a snowball effect. Pulling ambient mana into their forms as they are cast and supplementing the wielder. Experiment XX - Magical Combat at level 1. Father and I have begun sparring practice as of late. Daniel is well past level 200 however, and should he sneeze with enough force he could remove me from existence. The horrors of low level life. However, due to his immense stats he is more than safe to receive a pummeling of my full fury. That is, when I can actually hit him. Even with a fraction of his agility, he moves at such a speed I can barely register his movement. He¡¯s explained the concept of micro-feints and counter-feints to me dozens of times, and even still the speed required is impressive to a life-long mage. That being said, even at level one my mana pool allows me to cast spells with near impunity, and as I acclimate more and more to the mana density of this time my regeneration is increasing as well. Currently I can support three concurrent minions if I construct them with maximum efficiency. The minions themselves, though, do nothing against Daniel. If I focus instead on casting spells, I can support two spells of the second tier, and still regenerate enough mana to offset any casting of instantaneous spells. If I use first tier spells only I could likely double or triple those numbers, but I see little value in doing so. Experiment XXV - Self reflection and the source of pain. All my experiments in magic and combat have gone roughly as expected, and there¡¯s little left to do in preparation for my upcoming birthday and system unlock. Yet, with several days worth of time on my hands, there is one matter that keeps plaguing me. The pressure, the buzzing, I don¡¯t have a precise term for it even though I know exactly what I mean to describe. When my emotions run too rampant, or when I try to focus intensely on my memories, this buzzing pain fills my mind. It happened when Leigh reacted poorly to Cain, when the system interfered with my skills, and again when I experimented with magic. The rate of occurrence is frightening. I believe I know why it is happening, though I¡¯m not sure I¡¯d even confirm it. The Soul Transfer. When Andras Gregori¡¯s soul found this vessel and the extremely high compatibility, it was hurled back through time. Aside from the slurry of paradox that spills into the world, what happened to the body''s original soul? I believe the soul that would have been Vincent Stesk without my interference, was somehow blended and subsumed. This would explain the hazy memories, as well as the pain occurring with proximity to Andras Gregori and his personality. Who then, am I? It¡¯s clear that I am not fully who I remember myself as in my first life, I am no longer only Andras Gregori. Yet, this version of me does not exist without him, so I am neither Vincent Stesk. I do not know if there is a third option, but in the foggy gray between is where I find myself regardless. Chapter 37 Countdown to System unlock With only a few short days left of preparation before my system unlock, I have long since completed any and all experiments I can think to run. The first of three books father provided for me is completely full of experimentation notes, the second is similarly filled with transcribed spells, while the third currently functions as a personal journal. The simple day-to-day journaling doesn''t concern me much at all, but If I start to make any detailed notes of sensitive information I will have to consider a code or cypher. Regardless, my experimentation notes are unimportant and unlikely to be replicable in the first place. A cipher would only provide protection from short-term snooping. My attempts at further understanding my own situation have yielded significant results. The interference I¡¯ve been feeling during times of high stress, powerful emotion, or magical memory, has been occurring with increasing regularity as I get closer to my birthday. Interactions with my parents have brought me quickly to anger, and while the fury is truly coming from inside me it still feels foreign somehow. Similarly, when Leigh progressed past the level 25 threshold and unlocked her new [Spirit Smith] class, I was filled with a sense of rage and jealousy I couldn¡¯t quite explain. The intrusive thoughts are unwelcome, but I can¡¯t pretend they don¡¯t exist. ¡®She squanders the gift of power and spends her days in a forge. What is she waiting for? If I had system access I could actually pursue knowledge of this era. Why is she so content to live a provincial life?¡¯ I have to stomp down those thoughts every time they start bubbling back up. The lingering influence of an incomplete soul transfer? Or something else? The question keeps me awake at times, and I lack the necessary means to investigate further. It¡¯s frustrating beyond measure. I can do nothing but sit and wait these last few days. Mother and father won¡¯t even allow me to help with preparations, they treat it like the whole thing has to be some surprise and even seeing the hint of a stage will ruin the whole ordeal. It¡¯s asinine but refreshing, having someone care about you to such a degree. I know how exciting it was for everyone when Leigh got system access, so I don¡¯t want to ruin this for them. However, Leigh is a far more consistent fixture of the village than my own reclusive habits make me. As a result she¡¯s significantly more well liked than I am, so I don¡¯t expect the same turn out. ¡®Even if those fools in the village knew well enough to grovel, their sycophantic pleading would only ruin the day¡¯. No. I have to remind myself they just don¡¯t know me as well, I¡¯m more of a homebody, it¡¯s nothing they¡¯ve done. This morning though, with only a few days left to make preparations, Dad stops me on my way up to breakfast and pulls me aside to talk. ¡°Good morning bud.¡± He smirks, wrapping me in an inescapable hug and ruffling my hair. ¡°I¡¯m done helping your mom and Leigh set up for the party this week, so I just wanted to know if there was anything you need my help with before your big day?¡± His offer comes at a perfect time, as I¡¯ve recently been considering that topic. ¡°Yeah, actually. My mana regeneration can support about three summons right now. I¡¯ve been thinking about raising another type of undead and then doing a summoning contract like I showed Leigh¡± I explain softly to Daniel, restraining myself from rolling my eyes when he visibly cringes as the idea of more necromancy. ¡°I need a dead hawk for [Reanimate Animal], the contract I can take care of on my own.¡± I explain while Daniel looks visibly uncomfortable. ¡°I don¡¯t need it right now, just in the next few days¡± I dismiss the conversation and head inside. After a short breakfast and meaningless chatter with Mom, I head back down into the basement to do my ritual. A few weeks ago Leigh¡¯s new familiar, Cinder, finally got enough experience to ¡®class up¡¯, though technically being a monster he experiences a species upgrade instead. The little burning boar is no longer and [Ember Piglet] and instead is now a [Coalfire Pig]. Leigh didn¡¯t share either of the species specifics with me, I assume they fit her contract well enough. What rankles me however, is the excruciatingly slow rate of her growth. If I had system access I wouldn¡¯t rest until a summoned familiar caught up to me in level, it¡¯s just inefficient. Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. The lack of system access has reminded me of my own ability to take a familiar though, and with us both starting at level one, the lack of system access may not matter much. Which is what brings me to the basement. I know of a few things that attract the type of spirit I want, and darkness is first and foremost among them. Everything else I have prepared ahead of time. Shutting the door behind me, Cain joins me at the foot of the stairs curiously unprompted. I give him a quick pat on the head and double check my list of offerings. Dust of decay, the earth of the grave. Between the unkempt cellar and Cain I think I have that covered. A token of love, taken without notice. There are few people in the village I can steal from without being immediately caught. The remnants of Leigh¡¯s family forge being the sole exception. I found a small lock box engraved with her mother¡¯s initials tucked away beneath her bed. A gift from her father to his wife. At least I plan on returning it. A symbol of trust, under false pretense. I have to hope Leigh¡¯s bracelet and my secret past qualify for that, though I¡¯m unsure the spirits will be able to tell. Blood of a Mage, given in sacrifice. The last component. With haste, I draw the summoning circle loosely in the dust of the cellar¡¯s dirt floor. I¡¯m only worried about contracting the right spirit, the efficiency of the spell is secondary. I can help them grow alongside me. My strength will be more than enough. With the preparations complete, I beckon Cain to my side and prick my finger against his fangs. A single drop of blood falls into the circle as I begin chanting the familiar words. I¡¯ve transcribed [Cirune¡¯s Summoning] enough times in my first life, and reverse engineered it this time. It was one of the first spells I copied in a haze when I learned of the ability. I can recite it in my sleep if I must. I entoned the words carefully, each syllable ringing in the dark. When the incantation finishes, the temperature drops immediately, the chill seeming to darken the room even further. In the silence that follows, I hear my teeth chatter against the cold. A voice like silk breaks the trance. ¡°Hello child.¡± ¡°Hail noble spirit. I am Andras Telmire Gregori, I am Vincent Stesk, Mage of two lives, man of two worlds. I seek a contract with a spirit of the [Abyss]¡± I call out into the darkness. Two pinpricks of silver light shine in my vision, slitted feline eyes in the unchanged darkness. ¡°I know these things. I know you. The Aether whispers with your stories.¡± The spirit responds, their voice light with a soft chuckle. ¡°I am a spirit of many forms, [Abyss] is one of my elements. I seek entertainment in payment for a contract.¡± The implications of multiple stories makes me wonder what the spirit truly knows, but I can¡¯t back down now. My goal is right at hand. ¡°How would you wish to be entertained?¡± I ask, needing specifics before I agree. ¡°Your 18th year comes soon enough, and with it great many things. I will observe you until then at least, and if my suspicions prove correct I will observe you after as well. You will pay 60% of my mana costs for the first year, and upon your 19th cycle we can negotiate again¡± All of this was well within acceptable lines, though the knowledge of the spirit is troubling. ¡°Will you freely share your information with me before or after my system unlock? Tell me what you know?¡± ¡°I will not.¡± The spirit answers immediately, pausing for a tense moment. ¡°If you learn things on your own however¡­.¡± They continued, letting me draw my own conclusions to their intent. Capricious shadow spirits aside, it¡¯s a good summoning contract. ¡°I accept¡± I whisper, giving a shallow bow to the darkness.
You have formed a contract with [D???a?????r?????????k??????? ???????????M??????e?????????s????????s????????e???????????n?????g????e???????r???? - lvl ??]. Soul binding initiated¡­ Soul binding complete. Please name your new familiar.
¡°Hello. Sigil¡± ¡°Hello, Andras.¡± Chapter 38 Shortly after my contract with Sigil is completed, my eyes rapidly adjust to the darkness of the cellar. No longer magically impeded, I can see a small jet-black cat sitting in the middle of my now ruined summoning circle. The droplet of blood I offered is nowhere to be seen. Curious, I check Sigil¡¯s status, and while most of it is blocked out due to not having system access yet I can see a few skills. One in particular draws my attention.
[Peerless Sight] - lvl 1 Owner and any Soul Bonds have a [skill level] % sight correction when seeing through darkness.
A useful skill to be sure, and one I¡¯m already benefiting from, though it also gives me high hopes for the future. ¡°Sigil, this is Cain.¡± I introduce my new companion to my old friend. ¡°He¡¯s not a summoned spirit, but I did raise him with magic. His Animus Core is progressing slowly, so one day he may be sentient.¡± Sigil only looks over Cain and says nothing. Since we apparently have nothing to discuss, I give Cain one last pat and turn towards the stairs to leave. Sigil falls quickly into step behind me and we leave our boney companion and exit up to the surface. I¡¯m shocked to find the sun has set when I open the cellar doors, and tentatively poke my new familiar¡¯s mental link. ¡°Sigil, how long did our contract take?¡± I ask softly, my stomach quietly rumbling its protest. ¡°Several hours. Time is meaningless in the true void, what felt like moments could have been days if we so needed.¡± the tiny cat explains. I glance to my side, but can¡¯t even see their silver eyes at this angle, the starlight doing nothing to reveal them. I begin to ponder what to do next now that I¡¯ve lost nearly a day¡¯s worth of prep time, when Sigil suddenly interrupts me. ¡°Does your village have a church Andras?¡± My old name feels just as natural as anyone that calls me Vincent. ¡°It¡¯s been quite some time since I was away from the Aether. I¡¯d like to pay my respects to the pantheon.¡± With no one else around, I answer verbally, albeit in a whisper. ¡°We have a small church on the other side of the town square, I¡¯ve only been once or twice. Do you want help finding it?¡± ¡°No no, I¡¯ll manage.¡± Sigil replies, and I can hear the smirk in their voice. ¡°I¡¯ll be back later.¡± Though when later will be is not clear to me. With nothing left to do, I make my way back into the cellar, having a brief moment to myself before trying to sleep. Between hunger, anticipation for my coming birthday, and a lack of general fatigue, it takes a hasty [Sleep] spell to actually get some rest. Sigil returns some time in the night, though I don¡¯t know exactly when. They were waiting for me when I awoke. The next two days pass uneventfully, though Sigil does disappear for a few hours each day to do gods knows what. Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. On the second day, after nightfall, I sneak out of the cellar to return Leigh¡¯s jewelry box. It¡¯s my hope she hasn¡¯t noticed its absence in only two days, and that by returning it quickly she won¡¯t notice it ever being gone. Just outside the forge though, Sigil walks between my legs and brings me to a halt. ¡°Andras. Let me take this trinket back to the girl. I would like to speak to her familiar, and I can return it without being noticed far more easily than you.¡± Sigil offers mentally. I¡¯m not sure why they would do that for me, or why they need to talk to Cinder so badly, but the fuzzy ball of enigmas won¡¯t answer my questions if I ask. ¡°Fine, what do you need from me?¡± I groan with a thought after a tense moment of silence. ¡°I¡¯ll be borrowing a little mana. That is all.¡± Sigil purrs as I set the box on the ground. A moment later both Sigil¡¯s presence and the box seem to fade into the night, leaving me standing alone outside Leigh¡¯s forge. With nothing better to do but wait, I stride up to Leigh¡¯s front door and knock loudly before announcing myself. ¡°Leigh? It¡¯s Vincent.¡± I say softly through the door, taking care not to wake up any other villagers. A moment later, after a brief shuffling sound, the door swings open to reveal Leigh¡¯s curly red hair in an explosive mess of bedhead. ¡°Hey? What¡¯ssup?¡± She slurs for a moment, rubbing her eyes and tightening a blanket around her shoulders. ¡°Sorry. I didn¡¯t mean to wake you¡± I lied, noticing the conspicuous lack of a familiar around Leigh¡¯s ankles. ¡°It''s just, with my big day around the corner, and all this preparation being done, I just never really found an Ideal time to talk to you. Do you have a few minutes to chat?¡± I ask, flashing an awkward smile. ¡°Yeah, sure, come on in'''' Leigh answers, clearing the doorway and shutting it behind me after I enter. She puts a small log into the hearth, and taps a small metal plate embedded in the bricks. I feel a tiny trickle of mana pass into the device and a tiny fire blazes to life. Leigh must have been busy leveling up [Mana Crafting] ¡°I don¡¯t want to take up too much time or anything, I just thought it would be better for you to hear it from me.¡± I sigh, trying to sound a bit more bothered than I actually feel. ¡°Once my system unlocks this week, I¡¯m going to spend a few days getting used to everything, and maybe getting a few levels, but then I¡¯m leaving.¡± ¡°How long will you be gone?¡± Leigh asks through a yawn, clearly assuming I was making a trip to Alberach or some adjacent settlement. ¡°That¡¯s the thing¡­¡± I trail off, taking a seat in Leigh¡¯s only spare chair as she takes her own. ¡°I don¡¯t really know where I¡¯m going, so I don¡¯t know when I¡¯ll be back.¡± Leigh immediately looks more awake, like the words somehow shocked her physically. ¡°Dad¡¯s got enough Vitality to outlive half the village, and Mom¡¯s a high level Elf so she¡¯ll likely outlive me, I don¡¯t think they¡¯d mind if I was gone for a few years or more¡­¡± I begin to explain, briefly considering all the ways I could keep in touch with my parents. Leigh immediately interjects. ¡°I¡¯ll come with you then. We can be a team¡± She offers, but even then I can tell she¡¯s apprehensive. Her words lack conviction. Traveling with me means Traveling with Cain, seeing more of my magic, more secrets. ¡°No. The village needs a blacksmith, and your skills aren¡¯t meant to be away from a forge. I¡¯ll keep in touch, send you souvenirs, but I think it would be better if you stay.¡± I counter, she began to speak and stopped herself. Leigh has to know I¡¯m right, even if she doesn¡¯t want to agree. We go back and forth on the subject for the next several minutes, eventually Sigil whispers her presence at the back of my mind. Cinder trots into the room a moment later a few centimeters larger than the last time I saw him. ¡°I¡¯m not going to change my mind tonight, and you don¡¯t have to make any decisions about it today either. I just didn¡¯t want to surprise you.¡± I murmur, standing up to leave. ¡°Goodnight Leigh.¡± I offer as I exit. ¡°Goodnight.¡± She sighs as the door closes behind me. Chapter 39 The next morning, Leigh is noticeably absent from Breakfast, though Dad does arrive first thing in the morning from an overnight hunting trip. Most of his haul has already been delivered in the village, but as he takes his seat he looks at me and nods. ¡°I left that uh, thing, you asked me for by the cellar door bud. Try not to make a huge mess?¡± I nod my confirmation through bites of corn porridge, and internally scoff at his aversion to anything I do with magic. We continue to eat for several more minutes until Mom breaks the silence. ¡°So, Sugarplum, your big day is right around the corner¡­¡± She teases, clearly trying to gauge my excitement. ¡°Yeah, Thanks mom.¡± I stifle a small laugh. ¡°I don¡¯t think as many people will show up as they did for Leigh¡¯s party, but I¡¯m more concerned with finally being able to level¡± I admit truthfully. ¡°Well, about the party.¡± Mom begins, picking up immediately after I stop speaking. ¡°Your dad and I talked about it, and we both think you¡¯re going to be pretty pretty busy after your levels come through, so we want to give you your gifts today if that¡¯s alright?¡± She suggests softly. Since Mom and dad are likely the only people getting me gifts, and Leigh if she still cares for me that much, it doesn¡¯t bother me at all. ¡°That¡¯d be great Mom, Thanks!¡± I smile at her, happy to see her so excited. Mom and Dad leave the table after we finish eating, and a few moments later they both return with a parcel in hand. Mom¡¯s gift is relatively small and flat, it sounds soft when she puts it on the table. Dad had to get his from their bedroom, and carries in a large padded box that muffles any sound of the contents. Mom hands me hers first so I quickly untie the twine holding the canvas wrapping on and toss it to the side. Folded up inside the parcel is a deep gray cape. I unfold it and immediately wrap it around my shoulders. The whole garment is a bit too short for a cloak, but comes just past my hips. ¡°I started making it a while ago, but having to keep it hidden from you meant that you outpaced my work. It still makes a good cape though, right?¡± Mom asks tentatively, clearly worried about my reaction. I look over the garment once more, and notice a faint shimmer on the interior side. The embroidery itself was subtle, written in elvish, and only visible when reacting to mana. I¡¯ll have to find out what magic she wove into it later. I¡¯m curious how she did it without [Mana Crafting], another skill perhaps? The irony of a garment coming from Mom when she has a maxed out [Memory Weaver] class at level 75 is not lost on me. ¡°It¡¯s perfect Mom, thank you.¡± I reply, getting up from my chair to embrace her in thanks. She seems almost saddened by this whole process. People always say children growing up is bittersweet, maybe for an elf with a half human child it''s even worse. Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°Now bud, my gift comes in two parts¡± Dad interjects before I can take a seat back at the table, motioning for me to join him at the other end. ¡°This first.¡± He slides me a tiny wooden box, barely the size of my palm, that he¡¯d kept concealed in his pocket. It separates easily, and inside on a loose bed of cotton sits a brass ring etched along its entire circumference with tiny symbols I can¡¯t make out. I slip it on my right middle finger, looking over it curiously. I have a few theories of what it could be, but I¡¯m not entirely sure why Daniel would be giving it to me. ¡°It¡¯s a storage item¡± I knew it. ¡°Barely bigger than a backpack on the inside, and it needs to be recharged if you use it too much, though it does slowly recharge a bit on its own.¡± Dad explains, slowly getting up from the table and pushing the larger box to the edge as he continues speaking. ¡°It has just enough room for you to keep your money safe from pickpockets, a spare change of clothes, some emergency food, and your real gift.¡± He smiles, pushing me into his chair and gesturing to the last box. It doesn¡¯t seem to open on the top, and instead two small doors swing out from the side, revealing a small folded red cloth with a massive black gemstone resting on it. Not a gemstone, an egg. A large black egg, it looks like polished obsidian and it takes me a moment to recall the story dad told me about his fight with a dragon many years ago. It¡¯s kind of small for a dragon egg. I look up to dad and start to question him, and he interjects almost immediately. ¡°That there is a genuine dragon egg. I¡¯ve had professional use both [Appraisal] and [Identify] on it, it¡¯s for real. I don¡¯t have any of my dragon gold lying around anymore, but I figured a smart kid like you would find something to do with it. Keep it, sell it, whatever you want¡± Dad explains, his voice slowly growing quieter until he rests a hand on my shoulder and looks me dead in the eye. ¡°A lot of people died for that egg to make its way here, the dragon that laid it is dead too, if nothing else I want it to keep you alive. Okay?¡± He asks, though the question feels more like an order. I nod silently and look back to the egg. Laying my hand on its side, there¡¯s a brief feeling of stirring, and then silence. Disappointed, I flex my mana to refresh the storage ring, attuning it to my own energy, and quickly stow the egg inside. At the same moment the egg disappears, the small brass ring shrinks slightly and resizes to fit my finger. ¡°If you get to a big city you can pay an enchanter to Soul Bind that ring to you, or knowing you, you¡¯ll probably figure out how to do it yourself¡± Dad smiles, ruffling my hair and pushing me out of the chair. ¡°I know you¡¯ve got more things you want to get done today, go get ''em done and get some sleep. You turn 18 in two days¡± He laughs at me, and I look between Mom and Dad one more time before giving them my thanks again and practically running off to the cellar. My last preparation. My third minion. Chapter 40 When I reach the cellar door, I see the bag dad mentioned and notice the distinct lack of blood. He must have field dressed the bird. How strangely thoughtful of him. ¡°Sigil are you around? Want to watch me do a spell?¡± I reach out to my familiar, the dark black cat silently brushing against my legs a moment later. I¡¯ll take that as a yes. I open the cellar, and descend into my workshop. With the bag placed firmly on the table, I light a small candle to see by, and quickly examine the bird. No blood, no organs, and only a few broken bones. I can work with this, even if it is a bit small. Carefully, I spend the next two hours plucking the feathers individually from my subject. I¡¯d asked for a hawk, and this one is either very young, or a kestrel. Daniel once again shows his lack of intelligence. To be fair to Dad though, unless you read anatomy books to further a skill or study the animals themselves, very few people could tell a falcon from a hawk or a kestrel. Any bird of prey is better than nothing. With the feathers plucked, I set them aside and begin to debone the bird, my former wood carving knife pulling double duty today. Piece by piece I discard the flesh, glancing out of the side of my eye to see Sigil devour a few small chunks. ¡°I didn¡¯t know spirits needed to eat¡± I tease the cat. ¡°We don¡¯t, but it¡¯s still fun¡± They sass me right back. Within another hour still, I have all the tiny bones I can salvage, and most of the bird''s feathers. The only bone in the entire collection big enough for any engraving is the skull. With my knife, I carefully draw a rough draft of an exceedingly simple animus core in the dust of the cellar floor, using the rest of the space for a sensory relay. My rough draft is too big, but if I can scale it down with a sharp knife it should work. The carving is a slow and meticulous process, and several times I leave the cellar to ask Daniel for a smaller knife, eventually scratching my lines with one of Neia¡¯s sewing needles. In the end it works, and I get to work with my next step. Drawing the spellform and then arranging the feathers and bones atop it, a two layered spell circle. A kestrel of this size is small enough to use [Lesser Undead Summoning] for the ritual, also called [Reanimate pest], a measly tier 1 spell. With my mana pool I can use the ¡°Minor¡± version of undead summoning that I used on Cain, Tier 2 [Reanimate Animal]. I¡¯m hoping to increase my efficiency high enough, to use either Tier 3 [Reanimate Creature], or if things go perfectly a Tier 4 [Reanimate Dead]. Each spell tier is exponentially harder than the last, so Tier 4 may just be a pipe dream with my current reserves. ¡°Cain, you stand right there¡± I gesture my minion to the north side of the circle, knowing full well I don¡¯t have to speak to him verbally. I stand one third of the way around the circumference away from him, leaving a noticeable gap opposite us. Cain only has two mana points, so I can only use a single one without overdrafting him. He¡¯s an undead, but I still don¡¯t want to hurt my minions. ¡°Sigil, I would like to make a side deal with you. Will you provide some mana to my spell if I repay double the amount given over the next week?¡± I prod my familiar mentally, reaching out with a question I hope will be too entertaining to refuse. ¡°Hmm.¡± Sigil purrs into my mind, pretending to carelessly walk across the cellar yet somehow stopping in the exact perfect spot for the ritual. ¡°I can spare 35 points in this current form, as well as sharpen your control a small amount through our soul bond. That should be enough for your efforts. I would ask for more of your intake, but with a third minion that might kill you¡­¡± Sigil trails off, knowing void spirits they¡¯re trying to make me paranoid. As if a fresh summon less than a third through a contract would want their summoner dead already. ¡°Five points a day for twenty days as repayment.¡± Sigil finally counter offers. Despite that being nearly triple what the cat is offering me, I have no other choices. ¡°Deal¡± I accept. The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Once the three of us are in place, I do my final checks for the ritual. Three mana pools, 137 total points of mana to spend, two levels of spell circle, a memorized chant, and our combined mental prowess. If this couldn¡¯t manage a Tier 3 spell, at least I¡¯m getting system access in two days. I begin chanting, I feel the single point of mana join me from Cain as he flexes his single mental stat point to aid me. It¡¯s almost cute. The effort of the spell eases a moment later, as if a guiding hand reached up and held onto my own. Sigil¡¯s mana pours into the circle as I intone word after word of powerful focus. When I¡¯m halfway through the spell, I start visualizing what I want. What I need. A flying minion, a bird of spirit as much as bone, a friendly eye in the sky. I imagine looking down on myself from the bird¡¯s point of view, circling battle fields with sight to scout far flung enemies. I briefly recall an eagle I reanimated in my first life, the aid it had given to me and my friends. Former friends. My mana regeneration slowed even further. Cain and Sigil both take their share, but a third siphon connects to my soul, as the final word of power escapes my lips. ¡°Rise. Kite.¡± I whisper into the cellar, this time naming my new minion immediately.
Minion connection established. Spirit Hawk (Kestrel) - lvl 1. Identity confirmed. ERROR. Spirit siphon unable to connect properly to system locked host. Initializing experience buffer for Kite (Spirit Hawk).
Unlike when I named Cain, there was no external influence to evolve or empower my minion. That¡¯s fine though, I can feel the spell already, Kite is fine as she is. The bones and feathers of the little brown bird blaze into a translucent green fire before swirling into the air. With speed and precision each piece knits back into its proper place, and two emerald flames alight in the now empty avian skull. Kite¡¯s wings flap silently, and the tiny creature lands on my shoulder to stare up at me.
Name: Kite Strength: 5 Species: Spirit Hawk (Kestrel) - lvl 1
Hp: 20 Vitality: 10
Mp: 10 Agility: 15
Current Species: Spirit Hawk Intelligence: 5
Charisma: 0
Willpower: 5
General Skills:
Mind of the Master - lvl 1
Chapter 41.1 This chapter didn¡¯t feel right being split up. It¡¯s like 3x as long as a normal chapter though, so be warned. I would also suggest comparing this to chapter 30 for Leigh¡¯s system unlock to get an idea for what is or isn¡¯t normal. P.S There¡¯s a reason people know what the gods look like well enough to build statues and make murals. The last few days, even the last few hours, before my system unlock seem to limp along at a crawl. With nothing left but anticipation, I decide to work off some of my stress by heading to the edge of the village to get some practice in with Kite. My new minion and I don¡¯t have the same connection as I have with Cain or even Sigil. I have yet to be able to view his status page, and likely can¡¯t do so until I have full system access. It won¡¯t be long now, so the roadblock is far less frustrating than it would be otherwise. I¡¯ve never really considered just how ubiquitous system aid can really be. Trying to do relatively simple tasks, like tap into a sensory relay, when you¡¯ve never done such a thing fully manual before is more than a little complicated. In fact, it reminds me of my attempts to unlock the [Mana Crafting] skill by manipulating mana currents manually. The progress is relatively slow, and the day before my birthday I finally manage a momentary glimpse through Kite¡¯s eyes. The entire village spills out in a single mass, reminding me on the eve of my celebration just how small my world has been until this point. I¡¯m almost as excited to be leaving this place as I am to have system access. The wretched little town has stifled my growth for far too long. Though I¡¯ll have to make sure to come back and visit Mom and Dad. That being said, the day passes idly, and I struggle to find fitful sleep before finally resigning myself to another [Sleep] spell just to make the morning come quicker. When I awake the next morning to find my system unlock time counting down in only a handful of hours, my excitement immediately bursts. I rush from my bedroom into the kitchen to find Mom and Dad waiting for me with bright smiles. Now that Leigh has repaired most of her family home and forge, she doesn¡¯t stay with us much at all anymore so I¡¯ve been able to reclaim my bedroom. Though I do still occasionally sleep in the cellar with Cain, Sigil, and most recently Kite. ¡°Good morning!¡± Neia calls out as I enter the room, giving a broad gesture to the table she¡¯s set with all manner of celebratory foods. Oat porridge and fresh honey, sliced fruits Dad must have gotten from Alberack, even little baked pastries and tarts I haven¡¯t seen Mom make before. Sugar is a rare delicacy this far from any major city, so having more natural sweets is our replacement. The anxious energy humming through my veins has me quite hungry this morning, so I dig in without waiting. Dad clears his throat to get my attention and begins explaining the daily agenda while I shovel down food. ¡°Your system should unlock today right around noon, so most of the party is planned in the morning. Once you¡¯re done eating get dressed and cleaned up, and we¡¯ll head into town.¡± He commands, and I nod silently between bites, too happy to finally be released from my torment to care much about parties and events. I finish eating my fill as quickly as I can manage, and wash up enough to satisfy mom and dad before getting dressed to leave. My outfit for the ¡®big day¡¯ isn¡¯t really all that special. I pull on some clean clothes and my most comfortable boots as usual, but make sure to swing Mom¡¯s cape around my shoulder as well. Once fully dressed, I stride out of my room and follow mom and dad out of the house towards the village center. Just like when Leigh had her system unlock, a small platform stage has been constructed in the middle of town, and to my surprise most of the village is already milling about. I hadn¡¯t expected as many people to come, but maybe I underestimated how big of an event system unlocks can be in small villages. Or maybe all these fools know to ingratiate themselves after all. The next several hours are spent mingling with various villagers, talking about my expectations and hopes for the system unlock. Eventually I run out of ways to tell people I want to be a mage and that I¡¯m planning on leaving the village, so with dad¡¯s help I settled on ¡®adventurer¡¯. It seems to be a catch all term for mercenaries and travelers. In Teraq guilds had long since been replaced by government bureaus, and the draft to fight the dragons dominated all high level combat classers. There isn¡¯t nearly as much of a feast for lunch as mother had prepared for breakfast this morning, but the entire village has brought forth snacks and games. The entire occasion is just an excuse to party apparently. It doesn¡¯t bother me though, I¡¯m finally going to be able to put all this weakness behind me. Soon my system unlock timer ticks down far enough to be counted in minutes rather than hours. I quietly make my way over to Mom and Dad, and let them both know. Word quickly spreads throughout the village, and the crowd starts to move for the stage. When I finally notice a countdown in singular minutes, I ascend the stage myself, telling dad the exact time as I walk past. I crest the top of the stairs to an uproar of applause. The entire village cheered loudly, and much like they did with Leigh¡¯s system unlock, once given a signal everyone started counting down the seconds until I could finally level up. The chanting reaches zero and my vision fades. I don¡¯t remember much about system unlock the first time around, I was too young I guess. All sound and sight falls away, and I fall with it. The feeling of vertigo is intense, and a sudden chill washes over me. I can¡¯t move, can¡¯t speak, can¡¯t even draw a breath, for that moment I feel the clutch of death for a second time. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. A whisper, distant and soft, cuts through the silence. There is no echo to the voice, hardly any timbre at all actually. It sounds more like a memory of speech than actual words. ¡°I have established the connection, mortal, but I do not speak to you willingly.¡± the voice spits out, each word dripping in disdain. When they finish speaking to me, the void drops away, and I am staring death himself in the face. Specifically, Ydros the god of death, his skeletal form clad in a tattered robe invokes a feeling of existential dread I have never seen before. I stand in what is no doubt his divine realm but being unable to move I can¡¯t turn my head to search the shadows that surround me. ¡°Undeath itself is not a crime, yet you still flaunt everything I work for. The order of the world, the transition of death. You are not undead, yet neither are you truly living. You disgust me.¡± The god speaks, admonishing my very existence. When he finishes, another voice booms through the darkness, and half the space is suddenly alight with color and raw mana. From the swirling colors steps a mage of pure magnificent presence. His eyes are deep swirling starlight, his hands hold raw novas of power. ¡°My elder brother is correct. You have meddled in things beyond your knowledge, and had it not been for sheer stupid luck, your souls would have been ripped apart.¡± Caais the god of magic explains as his own divine realm crashes into the realm of the dead. My mind is racing with excuses and explanation, and for the first time in many years I feel surprisingly clear headed. My train of thought grinds to a halt, however, when he says souls. Plural. ¡°Neither of us has any particular inclination to speak with you, and truthfully we are far too busy trying to repair the damage you¡¯ve done to waste much more time here. We do a kindness for our children, not for you.¡± Lord Caais speaks with finality, and with a wave of his hand my body returns to my control. I collapse against the sudden change in pressure, momentarily experiencing a strange double vision, and both of the elder gods step away. As they turn their backs though, from each of their shadows step two other figures. Lord Ydros leaves, and from behind him steps a well dressed nobleman, long since dead and decayed. As a necromancer myself I immediately recognize him through the exposed bones and rotting flesh. Xytros, god of undeath. To his side, stepping into the space from Lord Caais¡¯ side is an ancient crone, sneering and haggard. While less familiar to me, I pride myself on knowledge of the magical arts, she must be Ketune the goddess of curses and dark magic. ¡°Ugh, this should be good if the big shots got involved,¡± a voice laughs from beside me. Not just any voice though, my voice. My old voice. With a shaking gaze, I turn my head to the side to see him sitting on the ground beside me. Myself. Andras Telmire Gregori. He slowly returns my gaze with a similar note of confusion, and as our eyes meet I am wracked with immense head splitting pain. Andras doubles over, no doubt experiencing the same. ¡°Uh uh uh, that won¡¯t do¡± Lady Ketune laughs, waving a hand and separating us by several feet. ¡°It¡¯s best if you don¡¯t look at each other and don¡¯t talk to each other if you still want to be sane at the end of this¡± the crone cackles in delight. ¡°Let us do the talking, and we will answer your questions as best we can¡± Xytros interjects, a mild look of amusement across his own, somewhat rotting, face. ¡°Let me just start by saying, thank you for taking my bargain. I¡¯ve been itching to unleash the curse of pain for a while now and getting to use it on a Teraqi no less. Ha!¡± Ketune continues to screech in her grating voice. ¡°You¡¯ve developed a new form of undeath, or something very close to it, and pioneered incredibly potent reactive soul magic. To say you¡¯ve gotten our interest is an understatement.¡± Xytros slowly explains, occasionally having to pop his jaw back into place when it dislocates. ¡°There¡¯s a ¡®but¡¯ coming isn¡¯t there.¡± I call out, or I guess Andras calls out. The me across the room in the adult body. ¡°But you royally fucked half the system code and nearly tore your own soul in half!¡± Ketune shouts, finding the entire concept entertaining enough to elicit another cackle. ¡°So why am I, or rather, why are we two separate entities now?¡± I ask reverently to the two gods, slowly shifting into a deferential kneel. Andras starts to speak, but the gods both glare at him immediately and his voice becomes a muffled echo from across the room. I feel very out of breath for a moment, and when Andras quiets down we take a sharp inhale simultaneously. Did the gods shut his mouth literally? ¡°If Andras Gregori hadn¡¯t sent himself back in time, or technically before he sent his soul back in time, Vincent Stesk already existed. Already lived and died centuries before Andras. Then he goes back, finds a body with high compatibility, and tries to take over.¡± Lord Xytros starts explaining my own past to me, and my confusion is slowly growing into fear. Souls. Plural. ¡°Then his soul arrives to little baby Vincent Stesk, and half his shit gets fucked in a millisecond. Two souls, one body, and no system buffer to fix the errors. Your memories get all jumbled up, you get two halves of a personality instead of one, and enough mana for a small army of apprentice magi¡± Ketune takes over the explanation, and the room seems to whither as her humor is replaced with a stern tone. ¡°Vincent¡± Xytros turns to me, tilting his head in pity. ¡°You¡¯ve done nothing wrong, but you¡¯re also not you anymore. Neither of you are. Your souls aren¡¯t whole, they¡¯re both cracked and fractured, and slowly merging into one to compensate for all the missing parts.¡± ¡°FUCKING TAINT OF THE ARCHMAGE. CIRUNES BLESSED BEARD-¡± Andras starts to scream obscenities, and rather than muffle him again, the gods merely wave a hand and he stops, fully. No moving, no speaking, no breathing. He can only watch and listen. ¡°There¡¯s nothing else we can do for you, we¡¯ve tried to help where we can out of sheer curiosity, but our influence only goes so far. Everything else from this point on is up to you.¡± The gods speak simultaneously, putting an end cap on the conversation and dismissing us. Dismissing me. They clap their hands together and in a rush of pain and power, I fall back to the material world. Met by the cheering of the village, and a soft Ding!. The feeling of my two souls colliding and merging with one another is excruciating, though the blood pumping in my ears keeps me from knowing if I scream audibly or not. The air is knocked from my lungs and I fall to my knees. Chapter 41.2
System access granted. Primary linkage failed. Manual linkage detected. Initiating bootup protocol. ¡­ Operator override detected, subroutines established. Administrator override detected, subroutines established. Initiating subroutine protocol. Experience point algorithm¡­ exceeded. Health abstraction¡­ suboptimal. Mana abstraction¡­ exceeded. System checks overridden, initiating class module.
There is a brief enough pause for me to look around and see Mom and Dad staring back at me with looks of concern. Dad has his hand on mom¡¯s shoulder, holding her from rushing to me. They both know I¡¯m not in any danger at the moment. I flash an uneasy smile their way, and have to wonder how much Neia knew ahead of time if she truly saw my fragmented memories. I thought I knew everything about my past life, but I guess you can¡¯t remember what you¡¯ve forgotten.
Experience buffer found. Accumulated XP to be granted now. Congratulations! [Half-Elf Child] has leveled up to 2 ¡­ [Half-Elf Child] has leveled up to 5 Class threshold reached, initiating class upgrade protocol.
A list of classes then begins scrolling past my vision. I¡¯d already decided long ago what my second class would be. I need to boost my intelligence and increase my mana pool while also taking some key early skills. The class Andras Gregori missed out on.
Class input accepted. Congratulations! [Apprentice Dark Mage] has leveled up to 1 ¡­ [Apprentice Dark Mage] has leveled up to 10. Class threshold reached, initiating class upgrade protocol.
The second choice is less assured than the first. I¡¯m not sure what I should even take, and I begin scrolling through the list just to check all of my options. The crowd is already dispersing in my periphery, and I can only focus on the task at hand. There are a few classes I fully expected to see, but the list is incredibly long. ¡°Query. Filter out non mana based classes as well as all classes without appropriate elemental affinity¡± I probe the system mentally, and for the first time in nearly twenty years, it works. The new list is much shorter and manageable. Though admittedly the variant classes available are a bit overwhelming.
[Acolyte]
  • Variant [Acolyte of Curses]
  • Variant [Acolyte of Undeath]
[Aether Mage]
  • Variant [Animus Mage]
[Blood Mage]
  • Variant [Sangromancer]
[Binder]
  • Variant [Soul Binder]
[Curse Mage] [Doctor]
  • Variant [Plague Doctor]
[Elementalist]
  • Variant [Void Mage]
[Golemancer]
  • Variant [Flesh Stitcher]
[Necromancer]
  • Variant [Father of (un)Death]
  • Variant [Nethermancer]
  • Variant [Reanimator]
[Scholar]
  • Variant [Eldritch Scholar]
  • Variant [Forbidden Scholar]
Once I read through the entire list however, only one class stands above the others. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
[Father of (un)Death] - Legendary Class. You, oh wayward soul, have lived two lives. You have experienced birth, death, and rebirth in a manner no other ever has or likely ever will. You pioneer new roads of damnation as the very forces of reality curse your name. You will need great strength to face the dangers within your own soul.
That sounds, in a word, amazing. If I take it now for my level 25 class it will no doubt help compensate for my concerns, and the skills it grants will undoubtedly help me grow. The biggest drawback would be potentially limiting the stat growth. Tier 1 classes don¡¯t give many stats, and level 25 is the start of Tier 2 so I''m guaranteed some growth in my key areas. If I wait until level 75 and the start of Tier 3, the same class would grant higher stats in the same fields. Is there a guarantee that whatever classes I take at level 25 and 50 target the same stats? No, not really, but if I focus on anything with mage in the name I¡¯m more likely to hit the same stats. Then I also have to consider the danger of having too many classes focused on necromancy and dark magic. Minions are a risk, and I already have two to hide. The sun is dead above me, marking high noon, by the time I finally come to a decision. [Void Mage] for level 25 class, and then depending on level speed, we take [Nethermancer] for level 50 if the class up comes quickly enough. If my theory of mana density is correct, that will be the case, but if I level up too slowly I will take [Father of (un)Death] at level 50 instead.
Class input accepted. Congratulations! [Void Mage] has leveled up to 1 ¡­ [Void Mage] has leveled up to 23. Experience buffer exhausted, begin stat increase. Congratulations! You have gained 2 points in [Charisma], and 1 point in [Vitality] per level for the racial bonus of [Half-Elf]. You have gained 1 [Free Point] per level for the racial bonus of [Half-Elf]. [Half-Elf Child] has granted you +4 points in [All] stats. [Apprentice Dark Mage] has granted you +20 points in [Intelligence], and -10 points in [Charisma] and +10 points in all others. [Void Mage] has granted you +46 points in [Intelligence], and +23 points in [Wisdom], and -13 points in [Charisma], and +13 in all others.
The charisma hit is expected, but with the benefit of being a Half-Elf this time, I hope it won¡¯t be too massive. As the stats flood into my body, a feeling of euphoria accompanies them, my body adapting to the new found power is similar to a rush of mana coursing directly through every fiber of my being. Blissfully enrapturing. I give a quick glance over my stats and try my best to consider the best ways to distribute my free stats. While I definitely want to specialize, I don¡¯t want to do so at the expense of neglecting my other stats too far behind. That kind of imbalance can make certain tasks difficult. My massively increased vitality from being a Half-Elf is fine where it is, wonderful even. I decide to put three points each into Strength and Agility, lowering my two lowest stats to a somewhat acceptable point. Twenty-four points for intelligence and seven for willpower bring my mental stats to nice round numbers for on the fly mana estimation, and also brings them both to the same point. At this point I only have two free points left, and decide to spend them on charisma to offset any further penalties. I briefly consider my status, and scoff slightly at my now immensely inflated stats. Matching my mental stats isn¡¯t exactly a common strategy, as many mages prefer power over precision and as a result front load their intelligence. However, with the numbers matched together I can now regenerate my entire mana pool in a single minute, nearly five points a second. The added control from having my willpower that high allows me to cast more spells in the same amount of time, and to do so with greater precision. Who cares if a single spell is half as powerful if I can cast four times as many? Truthfully, the necessity of the willpower stat is unique to me as a minion based class. The curse of [Necromancers] and [Summoners] is the need to supply minions with mana from our regeneration. With Cain, Sigil, and Kite all pulling mp from me, I get less than half of my full regeneration, so it will take me nearly twice as long to fill up my pool. A fact I have to compensate for if I want to cast spells while maintaining my minions. A pang of pain echoes behind my eyes, and briefly I consider if that headache is Andras. If it¡¯s me trying to remind myself of something. I need to pick skills, stop dawdling. Before I can pick my skills though however, I need to view my [Status]
Name: Vincent Andras Telmire Stesk-Gregori STR: 40 Classes: Half-Elf Child lvl 5
Hp: 150 VIT: 75 Apprentice Dark Mage lvl 10
Mp: 290 AGI: 40 Void Mage lvl 23
Active Class: Void Mage INT: 145
Total Level: 38 CHA: 54
mp/s: 4.833333333 WIL: 145
Chapter 42 With the experience point buffer now exhausted, my primary concern is getting my last two levels in [Void Mage] and picking a collection of good skills. That is available whenever I want to do it, so there¡¯s no need to stand around in the center of the village scrolling through pages. Relieved, I hop back down the make-shift steps of the stage and immediately get tackled into a hug from both my parents. I can tell they¡¯re concerned for me and the pain I experienced during system unlock is fading slowly with every breath. ¡°I¡¯m fine, I¡¯m fine¡± I reassure them as we start walking home. The return journey is relatively short. The entire time we walk Neia and Daniel are both recalling their own system unlock days and giving me recommendations for skills now that they no longer have access to my system. Expectedly, Daniel''s suggestions are all physical skills and combat or utility skills he picked up during his tenure as a mercenary. Most of them don¡¯t feel applicable to my current situation, but a few simple ideas seem sound enough. Pick up a stealth skill even if I use stealth magic, so I can hide without needing mana, and get a navigation or survival skill in case I get lost or stranded. I had considered the latter, but I honestly just assumed an invisibility skill would be good enough if I needed to hide. In an emergency situation, every point of mana counts, and being able to hide without wasting any on a spell is a sound enough suggestion. Soon enough, we finally make it home and I say a quick bye to Mom and Dad before rushing down to the Cellar. I¡¯m in too much of a hurry to close the doors behind me, but a quick scan around the room confirms Sigil¡¯s absence. I call Kite and Cain over to my side while simultaneously pulling up my current skill list. I want to check my skill levels before acquiring any new skills.
General Skills:
Blessing of Mana - lvl 38 Tool Proficiency - lvl 32
Curse of Pain - lvl 38 Charm - lvl 6
Combat Footwork - lvl 10 Concentration - lvl 38
Keen Senses - lvl 38 [Vacant]
Weapon Proficiency - lvl 8 [Vacant]
Class Skills: Half-Elf Child
Obsessive Mind - lvl 38 Energetic Soul - lvl 38
Inquisitive Spirit - lvl 38 Rapid Acquisition - lvl 38
Cutie Patootie - lvl 29
My skill levels are inconsistent but acceptable. As expected, anything I haven¡¯t used to the utmost is below my current level cap, while my most frequently used skills are probably overcapped. Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. With two new classes under my belt, I have twelve total skill slots, two general and two sets of five class specific slots. I know what I want to get for my two general skills after talking with dad, so I may as well get that out of the way.
Wayfaring - Utility Skill - Passive ¡°We are not stopping to ask for directions.¡± Skill user experiences a minor correction to sense of direction. Skill user experiences a minor correction when identifying landmarks or reading maps. Skill user experiences a minor correction when foraging for supplies or searching for water.
Stealth - Buff Skill - Active ¡°I am the night.¡± Opponents experience a minor penalty when perceiving skill user Skill user experiences a minor correction when attempting to move silently
I mentally confirm both of those choices, and feel a faint vibration to my head as new information trickles in. Not quite as painful as Andras¡¯ mind intruding on Vincent, my two souls melding, but decidedly similar. As I recall my current state of being, I can¡¯t help but ponder what the gods had told me during system unlock. Specifically how everything else should be up to me, both of me. With no one else around inside the cellar to object to any strange behavior, I try to mentally focus inwards. I never meditated much, Andras Gregori left that sort of thing to mystics and monks, but it wouldn¡¯t hurt to try. I take a cross legged seat on the ground and try to bring to mind anything and everything about Andras Telmire Gregori that I can manage. ¡°Alright you old bastard, knock knock¡± I mutter under my breath, and probe my mana deep towards my core, aided immensely by a freshly level thirty eight [Blessing of Mana]. The energy of my souls is swirling deep inside me, and while not clearly overflowing, the chaotic swirl makes a lot of sense when I consider the fragmented nature at the core. ¡°Andras. Vincent. Me.¡± I speak slowly, comfortably, with each breath the two mingle ever more and more. I can now recall my system unlock from both perspectives. I can feel the rage of being silenced and the confusion of being separated. I am not Vincent, nor am I Andras. They are separate, but they are the same. With closer inspection I can see the damage the patron gods told me of when we spoke, but at the same time there are cracks and fragments that seem newer and more pronounced. A potential side effect of being separated as long as I was? I¡¯m not sure which half contains my current sense of self, nor can I tell which half contains the larger portions of Andras. The two pieces blend and swirl like milk dropped into tea, they were only separable by the power of the gods themselves. A clean division through the middle would likely produce two of me as I see myself and not a distinct Vincent and Andras segment. ¡°We need skills. Any suggestions?¡± I probe my souls, both the parts accessible and those shrouded in mist. The only response I receive is a pain unlike any other when every crack throughout my being lights with mana at the same time. The shock throws me from my meditation and hurls my mind back to the world at hand. ¡°Right. No talking yet.¡± I groan, collapsing backwards onto the floor and probing the system. ¡°Query, open available skills for [Apprentice Dark Mage] and [Void Mage]¡± I prompt mentally, wincing when a loud DING! echoes through my ears.
Operator override detected. Skill input accepted. Skill input accepted. Congratulations! [Soul Healing] has been granted. [Soul Healing] has been set to level 5. [Memory Therapy] has been formed. [Memory Therapy] has been set to level 15.
With a sigh, I accept the two new skills and mentally mark off two of my ten remaining skill slots. The gods clearly had more in mind when they said they¡¯d helped me already. Duplicitous bastards, always speaking in double meanings. I pause, glancing around the room. No one else is here but Cain and Kite, Sigil is still gone. That thought felt different though, more so than anything else before. It wasn¡¯t just a blip in my train of thought, it was a crack I could see through. It both was my thought, and wasn¡¯t. The influence of perceiving myself twice, the reflection of a reflection in two facing mirrors. I¡¯m in there somewhere. He is. We are. I just have to figure out how to fix my fractured soul. Chapter 43 With only eight skill slots left to fill, I might as well look at the two I¡¯ve received against my will.
Soul Healing - Healing Skill - Hybrid ¡°Be careful kid¡± User gains minor soul sight. User passively regenerates soul based damage. User may spend mana to form raw Aether. User may spend Aether to accelerate regeneration of soul matrix.
The personalized message at the start of my skill does not surprise me, and I have to stop myself from rolling my eyes in case the gods are watching me somehow. The ability to form Aether from mana is unique in my memory, and the only creatures known to deal in such things are spirits. Spirits themselves are more soul than anything else, so it makes sense in that regard.
Memory Therapy - Healing Skill - Active ¡°Seriously. Don¡¯t fuck around¡± User experiences a minor correction when meditating. User may spend mana while meditating to repair damaged memories. User may spend large amounts of mana to reconcile opposed memories and perceptions.
Okay. I actually let myself roll my eyes that time. I¡¯m not going to fuck around, they don¡¯t have to treat me like a child. The skill is astounding though. The kinds of tasks these two skills alone supposedly let me do with mana are beyond anything I¡¯ve ever heard of. I suspect that I¡¯m not actually the one performing anything honestly, the system likely forms a conduit to some low ranking divine spirit that¡¯s acting as an agent of my two patrons. I will accept the help. Begrudgingly. I scoff slightly at my second train of thought as it bubbles to the surface. I wonder what it will be like when they¡¯ve healed more. Will I talk to myself, or will the line between them be further blurred. The idea honestly excites me. I have to get back to my skills though. Meditation on my state and any potential experiments can wait. ¡°Query, pull up available skills for [Apprentice Dark Mage]¡± and with a soft ding, my list of skills is organized in front of me according to previous parameters with class unlock.
[Elemental Affinity]
  • Variant [Void]
  • Variant [Ash]
  • Variant [Salt]
  • Variant [Dust]
  • Variant [Vacuum]
  • Variant [Abyss]
  • Variant [Poison]
  • Variant [Gravity]
  • Variant [Spatial]
  • Variant [Time]
  • Variant [Aether]
  • Variant [Mana Conversion]
[Focus]
  • Variant [Spell Focus]
  • Variant [Ritual Focus]
[Quick Spell]
  • Variant [Chant Omission]
  • Variant [Quick Draw]
  • Variant [Simul-Chant]
And the list seems to go on and on for pages and pages. Every single available skill as at least one variant listed underneath it. It would take me hours to go through all of them, so I have to creatively apply a few filters. Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. ¡°Filter out any skills that would contradict current choices, or hold only partial affinity to my current elements¡±. The list shortens dramatically. I can think of two skills I used quite frequently in my first life that I would have taken as general skills if not for a mage-focused build. I can take them now, I likely couldn¡¯t take [Wayfaring] or [Stealth] without taking a class side step later. ¡°Select [Appraisal] for level five class skill, and [Identify] for level fifteen¡± I prod the system. The skills are similar in use but differ in scope, and the more broadly used [Appraisal] is something I will use more so it¡¯s likely to level up faster. Taking [Identify] for my Tier 3 class gives it a head start.
Skill input accepted. Skill input accepted. Congratulations! [Appraisal] has been granted. [Appraisal] has been set to level 5. [Identify] has been granted. [Identify] has been set to level 15.
With those two chosen, I only have three slots left for each class. I have to write certain skills off completely, either because I won¡¯t use them or I can establish similar enough effects through skill alone. [Mana Conversion] is rather useless when you can convert mana to various elements manually. I spend the next few minutes scrolling through my remaining options, considering various skills and reading about any that are unfamiliar to me. Occasionally, I will consider a skill and feel a painful sting in my head. The input from my other half is clearly driving me towards certain choices, and I have to accept their opinion if nothing else. Once my choices are made for my Tier 2 class, I repeat the deliberation process for Tier 3. By the time the amber rays of sundown creep into the basement, I have six confident skill choices for my final few slots. Though in only a handful of levels I¡¯ll be able to choose five more, so I¡¯m not overly stressed by the concept.
Skill input accepted. Skill input accepted. Skill input accepted. Skill input accepted. Skill input accepted. Skill input accepted. Congratulations! [Void Affinity] has been granted. [Ritual Focus] has been granted. [Chant Omission] has been granted. [Void Affinity] has been set to level 5. [Ritual Focus] has been set to level 5. [Chant Omission] has been set to level 5. [Efficient Minions] has been granted. [Abyss Affinity] has been granted. [Clarity] has been granted. [Efficient Minions] has been set to level 15. [Abyss Affinity] has been set to level 15. [Clarity] has been set to level 15.
A rush of sudden pings and notifications alerts me to all the class skills flooding into my mind, and the familiar blissful feeling of power and growth seeps its way into my body. Addictive. A good incentive for power, but an unnecessary one. I smirk at the thought, and look over my freshly filled list of skills. At these early levels, I don¡¯t particularly feel the need to obtain any active skills, so most of what I¡¯ve taken are passives. Both affinity skills increase my efficiency and control when dealing with Void or Abyss element mana. [Ritual Focus], [Chant Omission], and [Efficient Minions] are all increases to magic I already do or have already done, and will not do much on their own. Finally, [Clarity] is a form of magical resistance skill that should help protect me in the future. As much as I love Neia, Mom, I don¡¯t feel comfortable with the looming threat of a high level mental mage exposing any secrets in the future. The only active skills I took this time around were either forced on me, or skills I already know how to use. I think it will save me time in future experimentation, and to prove my theory I beckon Cain closer and target him with [Appraisal].
Shadewolf - lvl 10 (MAX)
Okay. Note to self: Cain got part of the experience buffer too, and I need to check his status when I¡¯m done experimenting. It¡¯s time for my old friend to level up as well. Chapter 44 My experiments with new skills can wait a few hours honestly. I only have three or four skills I desperately want to test, so checking over Kite, Sigil, and Cain for their new level-ups isn¡¯t a huge distraction. ¡°Sigil? Would you meet me in the cellar, please? I¡¯m doing everyone¡¯s level-ups today¡± I call out mentally to my familiar, receiving a faint purr rather than words in response. It still takes my stealthy companion several minutes to come sauntering back into the cellar. Once my trio of minions has finally convened in our make-shift subterranean lair, I set about going over their statuses and levels, starting with Cain. Summoned undead aren¡¯t usually supposed to have skills, most of their abilities are innate to their form. So Cain having [Mind of the Master] is already unique in that regard. I¡¯m hopeful to see how his growth will continue. ¡°Query. Read any system notifications for Cain¡¯s recent level-ups¡± I mentally probe the bond between us, hoping I can see his stream of reports even if they don¡¯t come to me directly. There¡¯s a faint delay, but soon the familiar Ding! of system reporting comes through all the same.
System linkage detected. Operational barrier removed. Experience buffer found. Accumulated XP to be granted now. Congratulations! [Shadewolf] has leveled up to 1. ¡­.. [Shadewolf] has leveled up to 10. [Shadewolf] has granted you +10 points in [Vitality], and +5 points in [Strength], and +5 points in [Agility], and -5 points in [Charisma]. Species threshold reached, initiating species upgrade protocol.
Shortly after I read through the full list of changes, a somewhat familiar interface opens, listing every available species evolution for Cain. Thankfully, I already know what I want to choose for him. With the evolution from [Bonewolf (Greater)] into [Shadewolf] Cain gained a lot of utility. His fledgling intelligence aside, just being less visibly undead will allow me to keep him with me more often, furthering our safety. ¡°Select species [Void Hound]¡± I prod the system, briefly recalling a small pack of Void Hounds and their further evolutions that followed Andras Gregori in our younger days. Easily hidden and easily called upon allies are a must have.
Species input accepted. Congratulations! [Void Hound] has leveled up to 1. ¡­. [Void Hound] has leveled up to 20. [Void Hound] has granted you +40 points in [Vitality], and +20 points in [Strength], and +10 points in [Agility], and -20 points in [Charisma]
A series of system notifications ring out, even as I watch Cain¡¯s form begin to shift and stretch. His exposed bones seem to dull in color as the shadows of the cellar grow longer. The thin and wispy shadow stuff that clings to him in the place of flesh grows more substantial, more muscular. The purple twinge of my friend¡¯s eyes flares bright and shoots across his back in two thin lines of energy. A train of purple now seared into his body from above his eyes to the end of his tail. The entire process is both horrifying to watch, but strangely enthralling. Cain is like a work of magical art to behold, his construction beyond anything I¡¯ve seen in either of my lives. When it finishes, Cain is still clearly a monster, but not quite so obviously an undead monster. His feet are still boney, and his claws and teeth are far too long. The flames that sat in his eyes have been replaced by actual shining orbs of amethyst, giving him a much less ghoulish face. This close to him, however, I can see the shadow mist already starting to boil off his shoulders and haunches. If I¡¯m lucky I can pass him off as an [Abyss] attuned spirit, and if not another evolution or two should allow him to stay out of sight completely. The big hits to his charisma stat aren¡¯t great, but Cain was already frightening people as is, if Leigh is any indicator. Content that my friend won¡¯t level up or evolve any further as we¡¯re sitting here, I note his level is only slightly lower than my own and prompt the system for his full status. The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
Name: Cain STR: 45 Species: Bone Wolf (Greater) lvl 5
Hp: 140 VIT: 70 Shadewolf lvl 10
Mp: 6 AGI: 35 Void Hound lvl 20
Active Species: Void Hound INT: 3
CHA: -25
General Skills: WIL: 0
Mind of the Master - lvl 35
Looking over his stat sheet is nice. Cain isn¡¯t supposed to have skills at all, but the skill he does have is staying capped at his total level. His recent evolution also appears to have increased his intelligence even though the system didn¡¯t notify me of that point. He¡¯ll do great, I¡¯m sure of it, and once he grows strong enough I won¡¯t have to worry about mewling infants being scared of him. I take a deep breath to steady myself, tamp down the anger I can feel rising in my chest, and turn to Kite. Sigil is likely to be the most complicated level up if they want me involved at all, so Kite should be easily done first. I prompt the system for any notifications for my little bird, and Kite only levels up to four. More than I expected, all things considered, Kite¡¯s only been undead for a few days. I leave off on checking his status until his species'' evolution, and gently pat the little avian on the head before depositing him nearby. ¡°Sigil? You ready to level up?¡± I call out into the cellar, barely able to make out the thin outline of my feline friend in the distant shadows. ¡°I am indeed. As fun as this form has been, the diminutive size is getting rather old.¡± Sigil explains as they come trodding out of the darkness right up to me. The little cat takes a seat in front of me, and looks up with expectation in their eyes. ¡°Would you share your status with me please?¡± I ask the tiny ball of darkness staring up at me. Sigil nods, and a moment later their system notifications are sent through my mind.
System linkage detected. Operational barrier removed. Experience buffer found. Accumulated XP to be granted now. Congratulations! [Shadow Kitten] has leveled up to 1. ¡­.. [Shadow Kitten] has leveled up to 5. Species threshold reached, initiating species upgrade protocol. Species input accepted. Congratulations! [Abyssal Cat] has leveled up to 1. ¡­ [Abyssal Cat] has leveled up to 10. Species threshold reached, initiating species upgrade protocol. Species input accepted. Congratulations! [Missing Lynx] has leveled up to 1. ¡­ [Missing Lynx] has leveled up to 23.
In the moment I¡¯m more than a little bit overwhelmed. Sigil has taken full control of their system, choosing new species options before I can even register the list of options. Their level ups also coincidentally don¡¯t show me any mention of stat increases or decreases. I want to ask my familiar about their admittedly rude, and downright idiotic, actions in excluding me, but as I turn back to face them Sigil is far too busy evolving. Their body lengthens, and the already pitch-black fur grows impossibly darker as if actively sucking in light and lengthening shadows. The tiny ball of fur quadruples in size, now only being half the size of Cain, who in turn stands at my hip when fully alert. Sigil¡¯s glimmering eyes are still there, now in a much larger and more sleek-looking frame, gazing at me from across the cellar. ¡°You should have discussed it with me before choosing your species.¡± I admonish the cat, looking through my magically enhanced senses and trying to get a feeling for their exact form. ¡°We are partners. I am not your pet. My contract does not stipulate anything about involving you beyond what is necessary for our mutual benefit. I know what you are seeking and I have chosen accordingly. If you wish to remain partners you must learn to trust me. Telmire.¡± Sigil practically hissed the words into my mind, and while reluctant I do agree with the logic behind the statement. ¡°Fine. I was just concerned is all.¡± I huff, not wanting to waste any time arguing. However, Sigil has done another favor for me. They called me Telmire. That feels far more natural now than it did previously, and it¡¯s starting to feel more natural than Vincent or Andras. Perhaps it''s a side effect of the soul bond? I¡¯ve never had multiple names before when summoning spirits. I suppose that means it¡¯s time to experiment with my new skills and see exactly what''s going on in there. Chapter 45 Once I¡¯ve finished the process of leveling up my friends and minions, the to do list for the day becomes dramatically shorter. Cain and Kite don¡¯t have any skills to pick out or worry over, and Sigil has already displayed a penchant for autonomy where the system is concerned. They won¡¯t require any more help from me today. With my concerns and stressors at least partially abated, I can focus my full attention on a few final tests and experiments before I leave the village. Sigil wanders off, likely to pick out their new skills, and I settle into a seat here in the cellar to test out my new skills. Namely I want to learn all I can about [Soul Healing], [Memory Therapy], and [Curse of Pain]. Once I¡¯ve finished those I plan to move on to some less pressing experiments with spellforms and the access errors I experienced previously. My first attempt is with soul healing.
Soul Healing - Healing Skill - Hybrid User gains minor soul sight. User passively regenerates soul based damage. User may spend mana to form raw Aether. User may spend Aether to accelerate regeneration of soul matrix.
At this point I think I¡¯ve already dabbled in the ¡®minor soul sight¡¯ already. When I tried inspecting myself through [Blessing of Mana], I had intended to use the mana senses to learn more about my core. The vision I saw must have been a version of soul sight, as the line between soul and mana is already thin. I don¡¯t know what else I could do to test out such a niche skill, I don¡¯t even know what soul sight really means. None of the divination spells I can recall are similar enough I feel confident assuming. For now, it might be best to simply meditate again with intention focused on both [Blessing of Mana] and [Soul Healing]. Retaking a seat on the ground, I assume the most comfortable posture I can, placing my back against the cellar wall. I don¡¯t know how long this will take, best plan for the worst. With a single deep breath, I close my eyes and focus my intent inwards. Feeling the latent mana in the air flow through my lungs, into my blood, and swirling towards my core. I follow the gentle stream of energy through every inch of my body, swiftly spiraling towards my heart. The image I find once my senses adjust to the blinding mass of energy is different this time. The kaleidoscope of color and light is very much still present, and I can sense the immense power through [Blessing of Mana], but now there¡¯s more depth to it, as if what I saw before was a flattened projection. The aid of my soul sight shows me the fractalling patterns of self and experience. The infinite series of recursion where my experiences shape me and I in turn shape my experiences. It is beautiful to behold, and intimidating. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. At this moment I am overwhelmed. The true form of a soul is awe inspiring in the most literal sense, and holds massive implications for the true nature of the system itself, mana, and the divine. I will need to study it more in depth once I am certain it is safe, for now I would not risk further damaging my soul. The initial shock and distraction passes quickly enough, and I refocus my attention inwards to the soul itself. The second portion of my [Soul Healing] skill says that damage would be passively regenerated, but I can¡¯t tell what is or isn¡¯t damage after only seeing myself through soul sight once. As I linger in this state and watch my core closely though, I get the feeling that the two somewhat disparate regions of color are slowly intermingling more. The structure is becoming more unified. It¡¯s a difficult sensation to quantify, but the feeling is there regardless. The active portion of the skill description is what I¡¯m most excited about currently. Activating a new skill is like using a limb you didn¡¯t know you had. It feels natural the moment you finally get it, but until then you¡¯re never quite sure you¡¯re doing it right. The promise of Aether creation is enticing enough to keep me motivated though. I¡¯m not entirely sure how to expend my mana to create a resource I¡¯ve never interacted with before, and it takes me several minutes of blindly floundering before I make any substantial progress. Eventually, while focusing on the feeling of my soul and the core of my being, I press my mana reserves outwards as if to cast a spell. Then with great effort I have to direct that outward flow back towards my core in a spiraling loop, focusing all the intent I can muster on a vague concept of Aether. When it takes, it takes all at once, and my mana pool drops precipitously. A seering pain builds in my chest, warning me of the quickly growing mana burns of over-use. Thankfully I wrest control back before my mana pool empties completely, and I don¡¯t have to grapple with a full backlash. Still, it is intimidating to see my newly increased mana pool drained so completely so quickly. As my mana pool quickly begins to fill back up, I cast my senses back down into meditation. The system won¡¯t quantify Aether for me, so I need ot learn to get a feel for it manually. Gazing over my core again, there seems to be a form of loose haze around the edges of my perception. In the maelstrom of color and light that is my soul, this clear mist stands out like a beacon in the night. The volume is paultry though. A drop in the ocean of energy that makes up my core. The final line of my skill description says I can expend this loose Aether to accelerate the healing of my soul. Pressing my intent on the misty energy forces it to flow towards the core itself. I watch with rapt attention as it seeps into the cracks of my soul, solidifying into the colorful glassy patterns of my self. The restoration is miniscule, barely perceptable with the twisting scale of my core. At this rate it will take me years to fully undo the damage. My future level ups will thankfully increase my mana pool, but this is a daunting task regardless. I rise from my meditation as my mana pool finishes regenerating, glancing around the cellar and trying to gather how much time has passed. Judging by the light creeping in from the closed door, it has been a few hours at least. Sigil wanders over in their newly enlarged form and announces ¡°I have finished choosing my skills for now. I have chosen skills that resonate with your natural elements as well as my own. We can discuss them at a later date. For now I wish to test my abilities. I will return before the morning.¡± Anger boils in my chest, and I feel the desire to curse at the shadow black cat as it stalks away, but at the same time I¡¯m grateful for Sigil¡¯s assistance and consideration of our agreement. I can¡¯t force the spirit to do anything they don¡¯t want to. Not yet at least. Chapter 46 Once Sigil leaves the cellar, I''m alone in the makeshift workshop with my less sentient minions. Given how little they contribute to intellectual matters, I might as well be completely alone. I¡¯ve done all I can with [Soul Healing] for now, and the rest of my skills are unlikely to be as time-consuming as a deep meditation session. [Memory Therapy] is a bit of a wild card depending on how my memories handle perception of time. Thankfully I feel like [Curse of Pain] won¡¯t be so internally perceptive, so I¡¯m hoping it operates in real-time. Since [Memory Therapy] is a fully active skill, using it should be much easier. It also won¡¯t apply any bonuses when I don¡¯t activate it.
Memory Therapy - Healing Skill - Active User experiences a minor correction when meditating. User may spend mana while meditating to repair damaged memories. User may spend large amounts of mana to reconcile opposed memories and perceptions.
The focus on meditation seems to suggest that it will be separate from the meditation I experienced when using [Soul Healing] and [Blessing of Mana]. It will require deliberate effort of its own. I suppose it¡¯s a good thing I¡¯m getting so much practice meditating. I¡¯ll have to consider taking a skill for it some time in the future. With that in mind, I retake a seat in the cellar and focus my intention inwards once again. This time focusing on the far more amorphous memories that linger around the edges of my mind. Things I can¡¯t recall or don¡¯t recall fully. As the skill takes hold a thin trickle of my mana pours out and vanishes from my core. It doesn¡¯t outpace my regeneration, so I could do this indefinitely, but there¡¯s no sign of where the mana is being sent. Curious. With the skill active, I try several different methods of probing into my memories, into Andras Gregori¡¯s memories specifically, all with little success. The only progress I can manage is a few brief glimpses and momentary surges of feeling, nothing concrete that I can gain insight from, but an overwhelming sense of loss, sadness, and righteous anger. So far it fits with my fragmented understanding of my past life, so it¡¯s not a surprise. I hope further levels will speed up progress, but for now I will have to consistently practice with the skill. After that relatively disappointing showing, I have no other choices left but to face the skill that holds the most ominous potential. [Curse of Pain]. It could either be a great boon that allows me to curse others, or I may be the one cursed. Based on the behavior of the goddess that gave it to me, I suspect it may be both. The best place I can think to start is by reading the skill description. ¡°Query. Show skill details for [Curse of Pain]¡± Nothing. The system doesn¡¯t produce a skill window, it doesn¡¯t even respond to me at all. I have no hints what so ever for the use of the skill. Though I do have a few ideas on how to test it. I will have to be careful with my experimenbts since I¡¯m flying blind. I¡¯ll also save those tests for last since I have one last round of testing I¡¯d like to do first. That will come in the morning though. This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. For now, I make my way back up out of the cellar to join Mom and Dad for dinner. For the first time since my system unlock Leigh has chosen to join us as well, though she seems distant and aloof. ¡°Hey Leigh¡± I mumble, forcing a smile as I take a seat across from her. She nods in my direction but says nothing, clearly still upset about my decision to leave. Her attitude feels more resolute though, as if she¡¯s finally come to terms with the reality and won¡¯t needlessly beg me to stay. That¡¯s good, it¡¯s better for everyone that way. Mom sighs in my direction with a pointed look, and I wonder just how much she and Leigh have talked about. It doesn¡¯t matter. Neither of them can stop me from leaving at this point. So the four of us share a silent and awkward family dinner around the table. The follow morning I wake up with the dawn, crawling out of bed and getting dressed with an anxious energy buzzing through my body. Today I¡¯m testing spells. In my previous round, the system backless from being an unrecognized user was dramatic, and the spells themselves were borderline useless. Now that I have system access fully I want to, need to, test the bounds of my capabilities. I make my way out of the house into the field on the edge of the village where Leigh and I previously practiced her magic. I don¡¯t have her target effigy to practice on, but a tree is as good as anything. I want to start small, but I¡¯ve already seen Leigh cast several Tier 1 spells with no issue. [Spark], [Wind], and I myself have proven both [Life Tap] and [Clean] to be functioning as I expect them to. So, I may as well start with Tier 2 spells. This tier I¡¯ve already dabbled in as well, but it¡¯s more likely that I run into a spell that is yet to exist than with the bare basics. Skipping over my favored undead creation spells, and [Cirune¡¯s Summoning], I want the first choice to be a good one. [Acid Shot] is a fairly niche spell for most wizards in the future, and I don¡¯t recall the date of its creation, maybe that will work. Carefully, and steering with a significant amount of instinct, I manually build the spellform for [Acid Shot] as I remember it. Halfway through the familiar pain and buzz of Andras¡¯ soul fragments intervening lets me know that my work is being corrected. I don¡¯t need a drawn circle for this spell, and as it nears completion [Chant Omission] steps in to further boost my efficiency. The skill operating off my memory of the chant rather than actively reciting it. The spell finishes, and I unleash the projectile forming between my fingers straight ahead. A faint whistling wind follows it as it leaps towards the distant tree trunk. It hangs suspended in the air for what feels like an eternity, and once it strikes true I am met once again with the familiar sound of a system message. Ding!
ERROR. Unrecognized program detected. Rerouting¡­ Rerouting¡­ Reroute Successful. [A????c????i????d???? ???S????h?????o????t????] has been replaced with [Acid Bolt]. Parameters adjusted properly. Congratulations! [Chant Omission] has leveled up to 6. [Chant Omission] has leveled up to 7.
A quick glance over the spell, now written with system guidance, and the parameters are mostly the same. A few small changes to the mana forms are unlikely to effect much beyond how the spell itself is processed. The skill level ups are most welcome as well. This will do nicely. Chapter 47 The next several hours are spent testing various spell forms. The list of known spells in my era was exhaustive, to say the least, and Andras Gregori certainly never learned all of them. However, even among the spells I learned as a mage, I want to focus primarily on the most versatile or immediately valuable spells. Obviously, some spells have already been invented or discovered at this point in history, and casting them has no noticeable side effects. Some spells, however, are definitively too advanced for this time. Just like Acid Shot became [Acid Bolt], several other Tier 2 and Tier 3 have strange resonance when I cast them from memory. [Tail Wind] and [Fog] are the two largest outliers, both of them Tier 2 spells. Neither spell gets renamed by the system at first, but the first several attempts at parsing the spellforms are horribly wrong. Instead of making me lighter, [Tail Wind] is cast at an angle and knocks me into the dirt. Likewise, [Fog]¡¯s area of effect appears six feet higher than I originally intended when casting the spell. Both issues are rectified by casting the spells a few more times, making minor corrections after each issue. The end result is similar enough to the original, and I receive no prompts, but needing to correct system interpretation is a rare phenomena. Among the Tier 3 spells that I test for system recognition, the most promising is by far [Aura of Dread]. I¡¯ve noticed the Tier 3 spell frameworks often have larger reactions to the system errors, an exponential increase in deviation actually. The original spell [Aura of Dread] is an unseen influence on the mind, creeping from the caster into the psyche of every enemy within range. Andras Gregori actually invented the spell blending his natural affinity for dark necromantic magics with the principles of emotion magic. After casting it several times in this life, the system has rewritten its methodology but not the effect. The spell framework still should produce a feeling of terror, but it¡¯s more closely aligned with necromancy magic than emomancy now. Casting the spell produces a deep grey mist that hangs low to the ground around me. What few forrest creatures and small animals that got caught in those initial castings always began fleeing after breathing the mist. The spell resembles an inhaled poison more than unseen magic. Though visually striking spells can incite fear on their own. So many spells are created for combat though, that I won¡¯t have a chance to test them to their full capacity without casting them on enemies. I would never ask Leigh to stand in for something like that, and even with my increased levels I may not be able to fully effect Mom or Dad. I have no other choices remaining then. I need to leave this tiny village, and I need to leave soon. Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. -------- I¡¯m not naive enough to leave the village with no preparations though. I have a good traveling pack for everything that won¡¯t fit in my storage ring, and the cloak Mom made for me, an extra set of boots, and good durable traveling clothes. I¡¯m sure dad would give me the bedroll and tarp we used when camping previously, but that still leaves much to be desired. I plan to travel from here to Alberack, and get the rest of the supplies I need there. If I¡¯m away from cities for too long, dry rations won¡¯t cut it and I¡¯ll eventually have to hunt and forage for food. That means I¡¯ll need a mess kit for cooking and field dressing game. Thankfully, spells can step in to do a lot of heavy lifting. [Glimmer] provides roughly the same amount of light as a well lit torch or small lamp, so I won¡¯t need either of those. [Spark] can be used to light a fire if aimed properly, and [Create Water] will make sure I never get too dehydrated. Though I probably will still want a water skin to make full use of the spell. The only other thing I could think of needing is a good sturdy rope. Even that is a temporary measure however, as eventually a high leveled mage can travel safely with nothing but the robes on their back. I plan to get back to that level as quickly as I can. When you get used to convenience, even simple work feels excruciating. My shopping list for Alberack is small, and anything that can be prepared ahead of time I will have to do. The last hurdle is money. Namely that I have none. I would never stoop low enough to beg from Neia and Daniel no matter the situation. So I need to come with something to sell or trade for the items I need. [Blessing of Mana] makes the crafting of items even easier than it was when I was still using [Mana Crafting] and now that the skill has catapulted upwards to level 38, the ease of use is beyond anything I could have hoped for. A single enchanted item should be more than enough to sell or barter for the few supplies I need. The question is then, what item? The key to a good enchanted item should always be ubiquity, something that can be useful to as many people as possible. Unless of course you¡¯re crafting with a specific person in mind. In a rural area like my village, and to a lesser extend Alberack, the first enchantment that comes to mind would be [Mend]. Mend is a simple spell for most spell casters, but few people in the rural lands have spells in the first place. The vast majority are [Farmers] or [Homesteaders], and in rare cases craftsman like a [Smith]. None of them would have spells. [Mend] is a Tier 1 spell, simple to build, and simple to activate. Cheap and effective, it can repair mundane damage to most objects. There are limits obviously, it can¡¯t create mass that has been lost, but a cracked piece of wood or bent metal can be easily undone. I decide to carve the item out of wood like I did for Leigh¡¯s pendant, keeping it as a flat coin this time rather than a worn pendant. The process is far faster, and over the course of roughing out the circular shape my [Tool Proficiency] skill increases to level 33. It takes me the greater part of a day to finish the item, weave mana into it, and charge it up. With the rest of my time spent trying anything I can think of to try and grind out the last two levels on my third class. Alas, there¡¯s no great danger in this rural town to give me the xp needed to level, and I eventually resign myself to level after traveling to Alberack. With my ¡®money¡¯ prepared, and a list of supplies to gather, all that is left is to talk with Mom and Dad for their help with my supplies, and to say goodbye to my home town. To say goodbye to Leigh. She hasn¡¯t talked to me in days. Chapter 48 I don¡¯t want to bother Mom and Dad with preparations late at night, so I wait until the following day before I approach them about my plans for the trip. Waiting for the best opportunity, I actually talk to them about it over breakfast. ¡°So, Dad.¡± I begin abruptly, breaking the silence that had settled in around the table. ¡°What¡¯s up bud?¡± He slurs through a mouth full of corn porridge. ¡°I¡¯m planning to make my first solo trip to Alberack soon. I just don¡¯t have all the supplies I need for the trip. I was hoping it would be okay for me to take the extra bedroll and a few other things?¡± I suggest tentatively. I know Mom and Dad have both given me so much, part of me is afraid to overstep my bounds. They know it¡¯s in their best interest to help me, though. ¡°Oh, That¡¯s a great idea buddy! Get some practice traveling on your own, and get a feel for your new classes. I like it¡± Dad agrees with a smile, though I can see a look of concern quickly spreading across Mom¡¯s face. ¡°That¡¯s the thing though dad¡­¡± I say with a sigh. ¡°Now that I have my system access, I was planning for it to be a more prolonged trip. Maybe get a map in Alberack and travel to the next largest city. I¡¯m not exactly sure when I¡¯d be coming back¡­¡± I explain gently, trying to soften the blow I knew would upset Mom. I can already see the scowl forming on her face. She doesn¡¯t want me to go. My thoughts are interrupted before I even have a chance to speak in my defense. Mom sighs, and a weary, exasperated look spreads across her face. She must notice the anxiety on my face, and as we lock eyes her gaze softens. ¡°You¡¯re not a child anymore, Vincent, Andras. Whatever you want to do with your life, I can¡¯t in good conscience stop someone of your talent from chasing their dreams.¡± She murmurs softly, pride filling her eyes. ¡°Just like I can¡¯t stop myself from worrying about you¡± Mom laughs softly. She pauses for a moment and then reaches across the table to lay a hand on my own. ¡°Promise me you¡¯ll be careful? And send word every chance you get?¡± I can¡¯t help but find her care for me endearing in a way. ¡°Of course mom. I¡¯ll send a message every time I stop somewhere new.¡± I offer, knowing how little words will do to ease her heart. ¡°I¡¯ll come back and visit too, It¡¯s not like you have to say goodb-¡± my sentence is interrupted once again, this time as Neia crosses the room to grasp me in a tight hug. Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°You better tell Leigh where you¡¯re going.¡± She whispers in my ear as the hug becomes just shy of painfully tight. ¡°Yes Ma¡¯am¡± --------- Leigh and I still haven¡¯t spoken much beyond simple niceties ever since I told her my plans to leave the village. In hindsight she probably cares less about me leaving than she does about wanting her to stay behind. I think it will be best for her though. Which is why I leave for her forge immediately after having breakfast with Mom and Dad. Leigh can avoid me all she wants, but I know she¡¯d be upset if I left without saying anything, so she can get over a single tense conversation. I come to a stop outside Leigh¡¯s workshop, and there¡¯s no sound coming from inside. Despite it being well into the morning, it doesn¡¯t sound like she¡¯s working, or even lit the forge yet. With a gentle knock, I called out to the silent building ¡°Hey Leigh? It¡¯s Vincent, can we talk?¡±. I havn¡¯t even finished my sentence before a loud clattering echoes through the repaired building, and heavy footsteps herald Leigh¡¯s rush to the door. ¡°Yeahonesec¡± She screams from across the building, audibly rushing to meet me at the entrance. I wait for a tense few moments, before Leigh¡¯s fiery red mane peaks through a crack in the door. She holds it just open enough to step out and stand with me in the street, providing only a brief glimpse into her horribly unorganized home. How strange. Sure, Leigh can be a little chaotic, but I¡¯ve never known her to be messy or unkempt. Maybe my leaving is getting to her more than I thought? ¡°Yeah¡­¡± I sigh, ¡°We haven¡¯t really talked much since I told you I¡¯m planning to leave, and I¡¯ve been wanting to give you your space and be respectful, but I¡¯m going to leave soon. Perhaps even as soon as a few days¡± I explain, watching Leigh¡¯s face for any warnings of her reaction. Strangely enough, she starts to react and then forces whatever her response was back down. Leigh has a pained expression for a scarce few moments before she plasters on a smile. ¡°Okay! Your mom came by the other day and we talked about it. I appreciate you letting me know though¡­¡± Leigh replies, her voice slowly trailing off. I can tell there¡¯s something more she wants to say, but I don¡¯t want to force the subject and risk upsetting her further. She¡¯s already been through so much. This will be good for us both. ¡°Alright. That¡¯s good. I just wanted to make sure you knew, I didn¡¯t want it to be a surprise¡± I offered, taking a step back away from Leigh¡¯s door. I can¡¯t be sure what she¡¯s up to or why she¡¯s acting so weird, but there¡¯s no need for me to press it right now. ¡°Yep! I¡¯m working on something right now, so I¡¯m a bit busy but I¡¯ll try and be at your place for dinner tonight? Oh! And make sure you let me know when you¡¯re planning to leave. I have a going away gift for you¡± She rambles off rapid-fire. Nervous energy is palpable in the air, and I¡¯m more certain now than ever that she has something planned. As I walk back towards the edge of the village I mentally reach for my connection with Sigil. ¡°Sigil, do you mind snooping around Leigh¡¯s place a little bit and seeing what she¡¯s up to? Maybe talk to Cinder and make sure everything is okay if you can? She¡¯s acting strange and I just want to make sure everything is okay.¡± The black cat, no longer a tiny shadowy kitten, trotts out from behind a nearby building and I have to wonder if they¡¯re always following me like that. ¡°I can look into it, but I like that girl too much to spy on her for you. Unless someone is in danger, I plan to respect her privacy.¡± Sigil looks up at me as we walk along, and I swear I can almost feel the smirk in their thoughts. ¡°That will be fine¡± I begin, speaking to my familiar out loud once we pass the edge of the village. ¡°I just need to know whether to be concerned or not.¡± Chapter 49 That evening, after the sun has gone down, Sigil sneaks out of the house without so much as a whisper goodbye. In truth, there is no reason to say anything to anyone, since the boy had been the one to suggest Sigil go on this errand in the first place. ¡°He worries too much about being in control..¡± Sigil sighs to themself, dropping from the windowsill and out into the night. ¡°That latent obsession is what drew me to him in the first place, so I have no room to complain¡± Sigil laments silently, padding softly along the shadowy paths of the village. At least the snooping will provide a chance to talk to the idiot pig. It has been ages since Sigil met another spirit outside their own elemental axis. Cinder is endlessly entertaining, straightforward and earnest, full of energy and vigor, and easily manipulated. Cinder makes a good ally since he never second-guesses Sigil¡¯s motivations and never seems to have a doubt in his mind. It only takes a few moments for Sigil to make it well across the village to the little dwarf girl¡¯s workshop. In the darkness of dusk, they are not only unseen but aided in swiftness by the depths of the shadows, it was part of the benefit of Sigil¡¯s new [Shade Step] skill. Sigil likes the Kisgrick girl, she seems to motivate Telmire well beyond what this quaint little village would stir out of him on its own. When Sigil arrives at the building, the lights are still glowing from the inside even though the forge holds barely a smolder. No smoke rises from the chimney, but Sigil can feel light and heat emanating from within. ¡°Just how advanced has this child gotten her [Mana Crafting] skill? Mage lights? Heating Stones?¡± they pondered gently while approaching the house. None of the doors or windows of the workshop are open, and there are no obvious signs of a way in, but that certainly has never stopped Sigil before. With a thought, Sigil activates their [Shadow Meld] skill at the door to the workshop and practically melts into the darkness of the dusky night surrounding them. Once their form is fully fluid, it¡¯s trivially easy to slide between the gaps of the door and the surrounding planks to enter inside. Sigil rematerializes in the long shadows of a small table, flickering in the unsteady light of enchanted candle flame. ¡°I should probably go talk to the pig first. He¡¯s still a spirit after all, it¡¯s only respectful.¡± Sigil jumps up onto the table itself, stretching their long legs and stifling a yawn. Ever since they evolved to [Missing Lynx] Sigil had been steadily growing larger to accommodate the new form. Long gone are the days of being a tiny kitten anyone could just scoop up in a single hand. If Sigil stands at their full height, they would easily reach Telmire¡¯s hips. Cinder still likely weighs much more, but Sigil is lithe and the size difference is quickly shrinking. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. A quick glance around the kitchen area gives no sign of Cinder or Leigh, though Sigil does notice a glimmering light coming from the main workshop space. Jumping down, they prowl through the shadows to get a glimpse of what¡¯s going on. Clearing the shadow of the doorway, the muffled sounds of hurried activity quickly become clear. Leigh is running through the space at a dead sprint, tossing through tool bins, overturning boxes, and making an entire impromptu inventory of her workshop. All the while stuffing objects somewhat haphazardly into a large leather backpack. She¡¯s packing for something. ¡°Interesting¡­¡± Sigil chuckled, half purring to themselves as they watched with full attention. Nearby, the burly [Forgefire Boar] Cinder was sitting in a pile of discarded charcoal lumps. Breathing rhythmically in the ash and dust. ¡°Good evening Cinder¡± Sigil purred softly, reaching out through the mana to gently alert the other Spirit to their presence. Cinder snorted awake and slowly resonated his own mana to match Sigil. ¡°Hello dark one. Why are you here?¡± The pig asked, raising a questioning eye but not deigning to lift the rest of his body. Sigil smirked and feigned an air of casual curiosity. ¡°Oh, I was just checking in on how Leigh is doing. Telmire says we will be leaving soon and I absolutely hate the idea that this will be my last time to see the girl.¡± Cinder snorts again, this time drawing Leigh''s attention over to the two spirits. ¡°Hi Sigil¡­¡± She stammers awkwardly, fumbling to put her bulging travel pack out of sight. It¡¯s difficult for a spirit to communicate directly to a mortal they don¡¯t share a pact with, but Leigh knows full well how intelligent familiars can be despite their strange forms. ¡°I was just, uh, doing some cleaning up¡± Leigh continues to stutter nervously. It¡¯s as clear as day that she¡¯s hiding something, and her obvious preparations give Sigil more than enough evidence to guess exactly what is going on. The jet black cat would roll their eyes if their form was capable of such a thing. ¡°Tell your master I won¡¯t say a thing to Telmire. He just wanted me to confirm she was alright, I have no reason to give away her little charade¡± Sigil explains gently, slowly padding further out of the room with each word, clearly not waiting for a response. Cinder responded anyway, but not in a relevant way. ¡°Not master. Partner. Work together.¡± Sigil lets off another sigh while [Shadow Meld] slips them out of the workshop. ¡°Is he really that stupid or just too lazy to speak properly?¡±. Regardless, the whole situation is about as expected, and Telmire has nothing to worry about, at least for now. The inevitable confrontation when he realizes he has a tag along for his journey is another matter. He hadn¡¯t asked Sigil about that though, so it wasn¡¯t their business. Telmire¡¯s not in any danger, and the little smith is good for his growth. If he wants a minion to mindlessly fawn over him and play yes-man to his every paranoid fear, well, Telmire knows how to raise the dead. He¡¯s better off not isolating himself too much, it will force him to adapt more. He might actually live to make it to the haven in the north. Though knowing him, he won¡¯t love the competition. Chapter 50 I can¡¯t recall when Sigil came home last night, they have a habit of staying out late and not explaining why, so I¡¯ve learned not to question it. When I finally awake to the early morning light leaking in through the window shudders, Sigil is already waiting for me at the foot of my bed. Despite their surprising size, I can barely feel the weight of their form even as Sigil begins walking along my legs. My familiar comes to a stop and takes a restful seat on my lap, and I begin to feel the soft twings of telepathic communication as Sigil reaches out to me. ¡°Good morning Sigil¡± I offer, stifling a yawn that does little to interrupt our mental conversation. ¡°Morning Telmire. I¡¯ve completed your childish request to check on your friend. She is alright, you have nothing to worry about¡± Sigil explains dismissively. I can tell by their tone that prying for any deeper explanation isn¡¯t going to gain me much information today. ¡°I can¡¯t force you to do anything you don¡¯t want to, but I appreciate the help. If you¡¯re sure about it, I trust you.¡± I have to force the words across our link, becoming more aware of the buzzing of frustration growing behind my eyes. My mingling souls clearly had some disagreement about the matter. I can¡¯t say I don¡¯t understand, Sigil can be frustrating, but we have a mutually beneficial partnership, he isn¡¯t my slave. I need to foster that trust if I want to make use of it. Sigil just stares at me for a long drawn out moment. ¡°You¡¯re very correct Telmire.¡± They purr, before moving to jump down and leave. Just before they can get too far away though, I reach back out mentally. ¡°Hey Sigil, real quick, why do you keep calling me Telmire?¡±. I know Telmire¡¯s is Andras¡¯s middle name and thus technically my name as well, but it still strikes me as odd. ¡°There are two of you. Two souls, two minds. Neither name seems correct. Telmire is a middle ground.¡± Sigil explains, not even stopping to look at me as they trodd out of the room. Strangely enough, it made sense. Even if I didn¡¯t come to the same conclusion myself, part of it felt natural and correct. With my worries laid to rest, I can go about the last few preparations I need to make to leave the village this morning. Namely, finishing up any last minute packing and confirming my inventory one last time. I don¡¯t want to have to spend too much time worrying about my supplies when I make to Alberack. I wear my storage ring and mom¡¯s cloak almost every day, and most of my pack has been ready for several days now. I double check all my food and water supplies mom had insisted on sending with me, even though I could conjure more than enough with magic. Nothing is missing, I even have the small disk I enchanted with a [Mend] spell. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. I should be good to go. Walking from my room into the kitchen, I find Mom and Dad already sitting having breakfast together. More surprisingly though, Leigh is sitting with them, in the spot she used to take when living with us full time. ¡°Good morning?¡± I ask awkwardly, confused to her sudden change in behavior as I take a seat with the group. ¡°Mornin¡¯ Kid¡± Dad grumbles in my direction through a mouth full of food, not even slowing down his prodigious appetite to properly talk. Mom says quiet hellos as well while I slowly take some of the remaining oats and bread from the center of the table. We eat in this uncomfortable silence for several minutes before Leigh finally speaks up and breaks the tension. ¡°So, Vincent, Uh¡± She trails off for a moment, clearly gathering her courage. ¡°I know you¡¯re planning on leaving today, so I wanted to make sure I got down here early so I could give you these.¡± Leigh begins explaining, slowly fumbling for a heavy wooden box she¡¯d stowed underneath the table. Her surprise gift impacts the table heavily, and she opens the box before sliding it my way. Inside, resting on a bed of straw, is a set of metal banded bracers. Thick leather straps and padding, with long scaled armor to protect the arms and wrists while leaving the hands free. I know she¡¯d worked on something like this in the past, but I always assumed she¡¯d given up a long time ago. ¡°Thanks Leigh¡± I offer, though for some reason I can¡¯t seem to force myself to smile. A quick test fit of the bracers shows them to fit just perfectly, a true testament to her skill as an artisan. The moment the buckles latch firmly around my forearms, thing red lines begin to glow along the metal plates, outline distinctly dwarven runes etched surface deep along the entire piece. Leigh begins to hurriedly explain before I can feel the buzz of Andras¡¯ fury bubbling up behind my eyes. ¡°I don¡¯t recall too much about the runes my dad taught me¡± She begins ¡°but I remembered enough of the basic ones like durability, protection, and when I started experimenting on using them with my [Mana Crafting] skill I realized just how detailed I could make something.¡± Leigh¡¯s voice chokes in her throat for a moment. ¡°I could have probably made something a lot better if I had more time, but I wanted to make sure they were ready by the time you left.¡± That explains why she¡¯s been locked in her forge so much lately. ¡°I appreciate it Leigh, I really do.¡± Even if I can tell that my more aggressive side views this whole thing as a waste, her gesture does hit me honestly. Leigh and I share one more awkward look between us before I finish my meal and she says goodbye. I half expected her to be more dramatic about my departure, but when she just says her peace and rushes back into the village to her workshop, I can¡¯t complain. It will probably be easier for us both that way. ¡°We¡¯ve already told you to be safe, and if your Mom has to go over her entire list of worries again you¡¯ll be stuck here another week¡± Dad smiles, pulling me into a hug and covertly placing a small pouch of coins into my traveling pack. The moment he lets me go, Mom tackles me heavily into an embrace of her own, trying her hardest to hold back tears and still failing. ¡°Mom, I¡¯ll be back soon enough, and besides, you¡¯re an elf, if you get too worried about me you can take a few decades and go hunt me down, right?¡± I offer, prompting a slap to my shoulder for ¡®trying to remind my mother of her age¡¯ or something like that. Seizing the opportunity for escape, I step out the door and take one last look at Mom and Dad, Neia and Daniel, and the home that they raised me in. Though I suppose with all my knowledge now, the home that they raised us in. The home of Vincent Stesk and Andras Gregori, the Wizards Telmire. Chapter 50.5 - Book 2 prologue Hello. My names are Andras Telmire Grigori, and Vincent Telmire Stesk, the mage of two lives, the wizards Telmire. If you, dear mortal, are reading this then you have stumbled upon one of the few genuinely true accounts of my lives, either that or I am dead and this book as somehow found its way to a museum or some such place. My relationship with time has always been a loose one, and even now I struggle to imagine a world without my influence, so it matters not to me when or where you read this account. Andras Telmire Grigori was an archamge of the dark arts, and a powerful ¡®hero¡¯. I must use that word lightly as I was eventually condemned for my methodologies after securing victory for the Teraqi empire in the hour of their greatest need. What they did not expect, however, was my final gambit to ensure immortality. In final combat with a man I had once called friend, now betrayer, I succeeded in casting my ultimate spellform and securing for me a legacy of endless potential by securing my soul matrix to the winds of magic themselves, to be reborn in the far future long after the fall of the pitiful Teraqi Emperors. Unfortunately, my spell worked too well, and I catapulted myself backwards in time rather than forwards. Expending my entire mana supply for the spell in a single action, and then overdrawing from the system buffer presented to me by the laws of the world, I effectively stranded myself in the past. In the body of a newborn babe. Thus I came to know myself, my new self, Vincent ¡®Telmire¡¯ Stesk. A mewling infant born to the arms of a rather respectable duo of retired professionals. A mercenary and a mage to be specific. The eighteen years I spent trapped in a provincial village as ¡®Vincent¡¯ weren¡¯t as utterly agonizing as I initially suspected, and over time the influence of childhood seemed to be seeping into my consciousness. Such was not the case though, as come my eighteenth birthday and system unlock, two minor deities of the pantheon revealed to me the magnitude of my mistake. Vincent already had a soul. As I aged and grew in the body I had claimed, so too did the original soul, and as Vincent became stronger, his (or rather my) influence on the shared personality grew. Two souls, one body, hundreds of years of fractured memories, and catastrophic soul damage being held together by nothing short of wishes and paper-mache. With each passing day, we became more of a unified whole, and my two souls competed for influence of the being we would inevitably be. From my position as the host, I found it impossible to differentiate among the two, so I¡¯m afraid I can offer you no other insight on the matter. The only thing I know we share for sure is an endless, nigh obsessive motivation to be better. Better than each other, better than our parents, better than everyone else. Skills, spells, classes, and even ephemeral metrics like power and fame will be unacceptable unless I am the best. Telmire does not settle. During my time in the quaint little town, I came to the realization that there are only so many things I can accomplish on my own. To that end, it became prudent to cultivate a small band of allies and lackeys, if not partners, that I could rely on in situations where my magic might otherwise prove insufficient. The first of these was Cain. I created Cain from the corpse of a deceased wolf, and though at first he was a middling minion at best, his resonance with me and with the system as a whole proved dramatic. I accepted a pact with a disembodied voice to further my power shortly before my system unlock day, and in doing so Cain was significantly empowered. I have yet to discover the connection this voice had to the gods I spoke with during my ascension, but Cain only grows more and more fascinating every level. Stolen novel; please report. The second of my two undead minions is Kite. Kite is an idiot. Literally. The small Spirit Kestrel was only elevated to further my skill levels and shore up a glaring gap in my ability to scout at long range. Kite did not level up much in the time before my departure of the village and, even with the levels they did gain, retained the mind of an animal the entire time. In truth, Kite could likely be replaced with a particularly clever balloon and the results wouldn¡¯t be much different, but diligence and mastery are fundamental to long term success. I remain hopeful in their improvement. My final ¡®friend¡¯ as I set off along the northern forest paths, was Sigil. Sigil is not an undead, but rather a summoned familiar, a spirit of the void attuned alignments that naturally permeate most of my magic. I summoned Sigil and forged a mutually beneficial compact with them that has resulted in the closest thing to a partnership among my small band. I do of course, have things things I keep from Sigil and likewise they have secrets of their own. The connection between us ensures mutual growth though, so it remains beneficial for us to work together whenever possible. Sigil originally took the form of a small black cat, but with the level ups and evolutions that proceeded our journey northward, Sigil increased significantly in size, to become a [Missing Lynx]. And so, it was in this matter that I set out from the village, less than two weeks after ascending to my new levels, unable to hunt down the final levels I needed for a class evolution beforehand. Seeking power, prestige, and the answers to my questions, I left my entire life behind, or so I thought. I left on foot, with my shadowy companions falling in step behind. Both Cain and Sigil were made of more shadow than anything else, especially after Cain evolved to become a [Shade Wolf] and later [Void Hound]. Kite was riding on Cain¡¯s back, and we were all admittedly paying little attention to our surroundings, at least less than we should have. Sigil refuses to answer any questions about that day, so I suspect he knew more about our pursuers than he admits, but we were no doubt followed. Departing the village only a few minutes behind us, following our trail with a smattering of skills I still haven¡¯t asked about, was my childhood friend Leigh, and her familiar spirit Cinder. Cinder, now a bulking [Forgefire Boar] on par with Sigil in terms of evolutionary tier, was piled high with packs and parcels, carrying most of Leigh¡¯s personal belongings as they traipsed through the forest behind us. The moment they crossed the border of the village, Leigh produced a large tarp she¡¯d enchanted with [Mana Crafting] to hide them from detection as they followed. It was a minor boon for their duo, but would allow them to stay closer than otherwise. Oblivious to their presence, I continued onwards, not knowing what my new world would have in store. Chapter 51 Leaving the village was bittersweet, and several times as I began the journey north to Alberack I found myself fighting the urge to look over my shoulder. No journey begins if you can¡¯t leave the starting point though, so I squashed down that budding homesickness as quickly as it arose. Within an hour, the village I¡¯d called home for nearly twenty years was no longer visible behind me, and with that assurance all my hesitation and stress finally faded away. With the rest of my life ahead of me, I was in no particular rush to make things happen on any time line, I just felt an overwhelming relief to leave the stifling rural town behind. Not that I disliked living there with my family and friends, but there was only so much room to grow. I felt as if a rather big fish in a very small pond. It was quaint. I no longer had any time or patience for quaint. Any growth was better than none, and the threat of stagnation hung over my family home like a cloud. I began off to Alberack in earnest, taking my journey one step at a time, and frankly not worried too much about what may come. Gone were the days of being a level one child, I relished the challenges of my new life. The first challenge to come was inevitably the hurdles of everyday life, and being on the road that meant making camp. No small task for the average traveler, but I was no average traveler. Not anymore. With the tremendous mana regeneration I was now sporting, Tier 1 spells could handle most basic tasks in the span of a few moments. My campfire was lit by [Spark], [Clean] and [Camouflage] prepared a campsite, and [Alarm Area] took care of keeping watch. If I felt the need to, I could even pull on a Tier 2 spell here and there for things like [Create Water]. Of course, many of these spells were outside my specialization as Andras, so my efficiency wasn¡¯t as high as it could have been, but their ubiquitous use meant I could at least remember them. The only thing I couldn¡¯t do with magic yet is cook. The moment I got an actually intelligent minion, I was planning to teach them cooking. Dry rations and field meals were passable, fine even, but I would often long for warmth in those early days of traveling. I debated keeping my travel plans close to big cities just so I could reliably find work, and by extension hot meals. That was a problem for when I actually arrived in a big city though. My biggest concern before my arrival in Alberack was the final two levels in my [Void Mage] class. It didn¡¯t seem that far away, but arrival in a new town as a freshly minted Tier 4 mage would be a fantastic boon for any negotiation I had to do. All things would come in time. I had several days to think about it as I meandered toward my first stop. Of course, this all came crashing down rather suddenly on the morning of my third day of travel. It was just past dawn, the air was still cool and heavy with dew. At once, both the area of my alarm was triggered, rapidly, and I heard a shrill scream pierce the morning silence. Cain rushed to my side with a single thought, and the two of us began running forward toward the source of the sound. Along the way, we found the source of the breach in [Alarm Area], just past the edge of my barrier, several large beasts had trampled through the forest and cornered a traveler, or perhaps more accurately, a follower. Standing there, with her back against a tree, and her faithful piggy companion interposing himself between her and the threat, was Leigh. Immediately a surge of anger and conflicting thoughts rushed through me. I had to tamp those down quickly and refocus on the situation at hand to make sure everyone got out of this alive. Right. This was a perfect chance to try out new skills, and If I was lucky it would even get me a level or two. As I whipped my eyes around the scene, drinking in every possible ounce of information, I mentally reached for one of my new skills. [Identify]. There were four large canine monsters crouching low in a semi-circle around Leigh, each one had thick rigid spikes running down their back, and two large fangs that extended past the jaw even with their mouths shut. One of them turned and noticed me right as I felt my skill take hold. [Saber Wolf - lvl 32] [Saber Wolf - lvl 41] [Saber Wolf - lvl 29] [Saber Wolf - lvl 26] A momentary wave of confusion wormed its way into my mind with the results of the skill. These monsters were wolf variants, pack hunters by definition, yet they were all well into Tier 3, and their leader had just broken into Tier 4. These beasts should¡¯ve been considered chaff monsters in a rural backwater, under almost no circumstances should they have reached levels this high. I knew Mom and Dad had high levels for their age, but I just assumed they were outliers. I really regretted not checking the levels of other villagers before I left, my sample size was just too small, did everything in this time period have crazy high levels? If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. The last time I saw anything like this was¡­ No. I can¡¯t let myself get distracted. Distraction is death. ¡°Sigil can you take one of them?¡± My familiar hissed right back into my mind ¡°I will leave the weakest one to Cinder and his human. Level 29 is mine¡± ¡®Okay. Four enemies. Sigil takes one. Cinder takes one. That leaves two for me, Kite, and Cain. Kite will go down to a single attack if he gets hit, so I should leave the fight up to Cain. Okay. Got it.¡¯ In the span of a single breath, my body was flooded with instincts. Old feelings coursed through my veins and a flurry of notifications filled my mind.
Congratulations! [Memory Therapy] has leveled up to 38. [Soul Healing] has leveled up to 38. [Clarity] has leveled up to 38. You have qualified for the general skill [Two Souls, One Mind]. You have qualified for the general skill [Ancient Warfare]. You have qualified for¡­
I had to cut off the stream of notifications there before they got too distracting. My feet quickly carried me closer to the [Saber Wolf] pack; every second was precious time to prepare. Leigh was clearly frightened, and while my own merry band could communicate almost entirely mentally, she would benefit from a stabilizing force. Ugh, Children. ¡°Sigil, Middle Right. Cain, Far left. Leigh, you and Cinder are on the middle right. I¡¯ll take the big one.¡± My voice cut through the tension in the forest and every combatant snapped into action at the same time. I couldn¡¯t spare a glance for the others as I bore down my opponent, fully focusing in on the largest wolf of the bunch. ¡°[Identify]¡± [Saber Wolf - lvl 41] The wolf had a two-level advantage over me, which was usually not a problem when fighting in groups. I had to fight it alone so that level gap was going to have the most impact now. In the haze of battle, all other distraction fell away, and I could only feel myself and see my opponent. It felt right, natural even. Like I was born to do this, to struggle, to fight. The wolf turned in a flash and charged me with fangs bared, its thick muscles rippled with exertion under an undoubtedly armored skin. I had to think. ¡®I don¡¯t have to actually kill the beast, I just need to stall long enough for my minions to catch back up. Direct damage is the biggest weakness of necromancy¡¯ At my current level, I could effortlessly maintain a Tier 3 spell indefinitely, I could even handle Tier 4 for the majority of this fight if I had to, but there¡¯s no point in holding back if it gets me hurt. The wolf closed in the final few feet, and I snapped back to my senses, every instinct in my body screaming. I pulled on [Combat Footwork] and [Chant Omission], and both passive skills kicked into overdrive as I dodged to the side. The latter skill worked just fine, but [Combat Footwork] wasn¡¯t quite a high enough level to get me out of the way in time. I crashed to the side, the wolf activated some skill of its own, and a large spike shot out from its flank, scouring down my thigh as I tumbled to the ground. A quick glance at my status showed my health pool decreased by nearly twenty percent. I couldn¡¯t risk getting hit again and further decreasing my mobility either. My first spell was a wide area of effect, and I hoped it would have some spillover to help the rest of the fight. I activated [Aura of Dread] in its full Tier 3 form, and watched the wolf in front of me stutter as he prowled forward, not enough to stop him but enough to slow him down. I had no way to know how intelligent these beasts were, but my opponent clearly knew something is wrong. The wolf redoubled its efforts, whirling on me in a rage right as I completed my second spell. When facing down a physical fighter like this, I could recall one way Andras frequently evened the playing field. [Chant Omission] made the spell silent, and my hands fluttered rapidly through all the gestures needed to build my spell form. When it finally completed, a thick black mist poured from my mouth on the next exhale. My magic-infused mist swirled across the ground, hanging low and heavy as it coursed toward my enemy. [Greater Curse] was a rather versatile Tier 4 spell, every effect it could produce was a curse of course, but the type of curses varied. The mist forced its way through the wolf¡¯s ears, eyes, nose, and throat, and watching from the outside I swore I could see its form sag slightly under the weight of ¡®Curse of Weakness¡¯. The two spells together had overtaken my mana regeneration, instead actively costing mana from my pool to maintain. Checking my status, a precipitous drop in mana was growing higher every second. ¡®Where is everyone? I need those fights to be over. Now.¡¯ I cursed silently to myself, and my eyes snapped to the side just as I spotted motion in my periphery. I glanced in the direction just in time to see Cinder barrel out of the underbrush with Leigh right on his heels. The massive porcine slammed into the wolf I was facing at full speed, the momentum of Cinder¡¯s bulk carried through and sent the enemy reeling. A powerful war squeal echoed from the boar as he asserted his dominance. Leigh rushed into position between us, interposing herself between me and Cinder. I couldn¡¯t help but roll my eyes. ¡®Isn¡¯t she the one that got us into this mess in the first place?¡¯ Thankfully, the two of them had bought me enough time to survey the rest of the fight without too much risk. The low-leveled wolf was laying dead, Leigh and Cinder had successfully slain it. I could see Sigil and Cain still squaring off against their own enemies, but the advantage was clearly in their favor. A brief but shrill cry pierced from overhead, Kite alerted us to her presence above. ¡®Okay. The scales are tipping, I don¡¯t have to stall anymore.¡¯ I panted a few ragged deep breaths to draw in my focus and stave off the exhaustion of mana expenditure. Meanwhile, Cinder and the wolf were tearing into each other in a writhing mass of fur and tusk and spike. I wanted to end this fight soon, and I knew just the spell to do it. No words were required and only a few motions, repeated several times, built up the spell form rapidly. [Dominate] did not produce any visible effect, but all the same, once the spell was completed my mind was hurled across the battlefield to collide with the wolf. We began the mental struggle for control, all while Cinder continued his own more physical struggle.
[Curse of Pain] activated.
Chapter 52 [Curse of Pain] activated. Those words echoed through my mind right as the [Dominate] spell completed and took hold. I didn¡¯t have even a second to consider them before the full force of the [Saber Wolf] crashed against my consciousness. The strain was lessened thanks to my mental skills like [Concentration], but even then, the feral thoughts of an animal were strangely foreign and difficult to pin down. Each struggle of my mind against his sent a shiver, an echo, a ripple of pain through his senses. This wasn¡¯t so bad on its own, it would¡¯ve been beneficial even, but those sparks of pain resonated through the curse and came back to me. Every sliver of pain that came my way from the wolf felt double what the curse gave to him. The pain racked my body, grinding me to a halt in the thick undergrowth of the forest. Then, like a bomb going off in my mind, it burst outwards to the [Saber Wolf] ten-fold. A message pressed through the system and hovered in my vision despite having disabled notifications. Curse of Pain - Passive Skill Granted to those with immense pain or suffering, your abilities bring pain to yourself and those around you. Whether you like it or not, your power is heightened through pain. The wolf howled in agony, a halting warbling sound. I didn¡¯t have to understand him to know he was begging for mercy. Let him beg. I spat blood into the dirt. My eyes were shut tight, trying to block out the deep stabbing pain that accompanied every breath. The self imposed blindness prevented me from seeing just who finished off the beast, but several tense moments went by and the pain faded away. Over the pounding of my heartbeat in my ears, I could just barely hear someone calling my name. One of my names. ¡°-ent! Vincent! Are you okay?¡± Leigh panted for breath, standing right in front of me, back turned to our freshly fallen foes. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m fine¡± I managed to grumble, swaying unsteadily on my feet. I allowed the slew of notifications from the fight to catch up with me, and beckoned Cain over to support me so I didn¡¯t fall. Congratulations! Your party has slain a [Saber Wolf - lvl 29] Your party has slain a [Saber Wolf - lvl 32] Your party has slain a [Saber Wolf - lvl 41] I guess Leigh and Cinder killed the lvl 26 without any outside help. That¡¯s good, she needed to be able to defend herself. Or learn to not get into trouble in the first place. Congratulations! [Void Mage] has leveled up to 24. [Void Mage] has leveled up to 25. Class threshold reached, please reach safety to initiate class upgrade protocol. I let loose a gentle sigh of relief, and felt my exhausted body grow just a tad stronger with the new levels. The stats themselves were less important to me right now than checking for skill level ups. I did make sure to dump my free points from being a [Half-Elf] into my Willpower stat to increase mana regeneration, but the rest of the stats will do what the class intends them to. Congratulations! [Blessing of Mana] has leveled up to 40. [Curse of Pain] has leveled up to 40. [Combat Footwork] has leveled up to 15. [Keen Senses] has leveled up to 23. [Concentration] has leveled up to 40. I also received notifications for every skill associated with [Half-Elf Child] leveling up to my new maximum except for [Cutie Patootie]. [Soul Healing] has leveled up to 40. [Void Affinity] has leveled up to 25 [Chant Omission] has leveled up to 15. [Memory Therapy] has leveled up to 40. [Efficient Minions] has leveled up to 39. [Abyss Affinity] has leveled up to 35. [Clarity] has leveled up to 40. The slurry of dings and notifications was nearly deafening, but the impact of true combat on leveling rates was nothing to take lightly. My head was still throbbing, but through the haze I reached out for Sigil. ¡®Did anyone else level up?¡¯ I wasn¡¯t sure if Sigil could see his fellow minion¡¯s statuses directly, but as a spirit his ability to sense mana should¡¯ve allow him to read ambient levels. ¡®The dog and I have both leveled once. Your little bird is ready for his species advancement. He distracted my opponent for a brief moment, and I believe the level disparity worked in his favor¡¯ Sigil hummed softly back to me, putting my mind further at ease. ¡°We can afford to rest here for a moment then¡± I sighed audibly, letting Leigh know that things were okay. I sunk to the ground, leaning myself heavily against Cain. His shadowy almost-fur was surprisingly soft, even if it was completely devoid of body heat. My eyes felt heavy, and the adrenaline high of battle was quickly diluting. This body was not yet accustomed to the rush, perhaps I took things a bit too far.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. ******************* I didn¡¯t know how long I dozed off for, but when I finally blinked my eyes open, the sun was much further in the sky, some time after noon. Leigh was sitting nearby, idly poking at a smoldering fire that Cinder was sitting atop very proudly. She looked worried. ¡°Leigh¡­¡± I grumbled, my voice sounded course and more distant than I expected. She jumped slightly as the silence suddenly broke. ¡°Oh, you¡¯re awake. Good¡± Leigh sighed and handed me my own water skin, recently refilled. At least she didn¡¯t waste the whole day. ¡°Why are you here Leigh?¡± I gulped down several mouthfuls of water to help my voice return to normal. My entire body felt strangely dehydrated. She took a shuddering breath and turned to look me in the eye. There¡¯s a calm resolution in her eyes I didn¡¯t recognize. Maybe she¡¯s finally growing a back bone. ¡°I¡¯m here because I want to be, Vincent. You don¡¯t get to decide for me.¡± I started to retort, but her withering look told me that¡¯s a bad idea, and she just continued. ¡°I spent our whole lives thinking you were a genius, but gods above you can be so dense some times.¡± Leigh sighed and reached forward into the fire with Cinder. Her fingers closed around a lump of charcoal, and she held it like a glittering gem, just staring into the embers for a moment.. ¡°My mom¡¯s dead, my dad is gone, and I¡¯m supposed to just watch as the only friend my age gets up and leaves? Even worse, leaves me with his parents and their pity, while I watch the entire village whisper about how I¡¯ve been left behind? Not a chance.¡± Leigh dropped the coal back into the fire and closed her eyes. I could tell she¡¯s grappling with something, but I truly thought she would be better off without me, so I¡¯m clearly not the best judge of her emotional state. ¡°I¡¯m scared of you, Vincent. You¡¯re terrifying¡± Leigh paused and lets those ominous words hang between us for a while. ¡°You know things you have no way to know, you have powers you shouldn¡¯t have. You¡¯ve saved my life. Twice! Yet you spend more time with dead animals than you do with me. No matter what I do, I can¡¯t figure you out.¡± Leigh¡¯s voice started to waver, the heavy emotion in her words causing a minor voice crack and I could see her fighting back tears. ¡°I talked to your dad, he told me about the bandits you fought together, how you reacted so heavily at first and then seemed to pretend it never happened the next day. You didn¡¯t even tell me about it¡­¡± She trailed off. ¡°If I leave you on your own, you¡¯ll end up casting the wrong spell in front of the wrong person and then you¡¯ll either be dead or hunted from here to the eastern coasts.¡± Her final words were softer, almost whispered. ¡°Don¡¯t leave me. Please.¡± I didn¡¯t want to interrupt her, but we sat in silence for what felt like ages so eventually I ask. ¡°Are you done?¡±. She nodded silently. ¡°I know. I know all of it.¡± I groaned, stretching my weary arms over my head. ¡°You¡¯re right, in a sense, but we¡¯ve been over this. There are things I can¡¯t tell you, things I won¡¯t tell you¡± I took a deep breath and stalled for a moment to figure out how best to say what I needed to. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to hurt you, Leigh. I genuinely thought you¡¯d be better off. You can come with me if you want, but don¡¯t ask me to change who I am. I need to figure out who that is before I start trying to change..¡± I sighed and my gaze fell to Cain. I recalled how disgusted Leigh was when they first met, and how much that had hurt. My magic was gross to many people, it could be intimidating and off putting, I knew that. I wouldn¡¯t give up one friend for another though. My attention returned to the fallen [Saber Wolf] corpses. ¡°You can come along if you want to, but if it ever gets too much you have to promise me you¡¯ll go back home.¡± ¡°I want to stay.¡± ¡°Good. I have a lot of work to do and a second pair of eyes might keep me from making dumb mistakes. We¡¯re both craftsmen after all.¡± ******************* I spent the next several hours breaking down the corpses of the [Saber Wolf] pack we defeated and despite her clear revulsion at the practice, Leigh didn¡¯t complain about the mess. She even offered me a knife to use after seeing me struggle to do it with a few spells clearly not designed for cutting. It¡¯s messy work, but very quickly I had the beasts separated into distinct piles. Congratulations! [Wayfaring] has leveled up to 11. Bones and spikes, hides and flesh, and offal. My fledgling skills at butchery had not done well in preserving the quality of anything except the bones. Zombies draw attention, and the rotting smell that would inevitably pervade them all makes staying hidden difficult. That doesn¡¯t mean the flesh had no uses though. Leigh and I would be able to sell the hides to a leather tanner in Alberack, even in it¡¯s somewhat pitiful state. The meat was mostly useless to me, but the residual mana from a leveled monster made it somewhat nourishing to spirits. Sigil and Cinder did ¡®consume¡¯ it, though Cinder¡¯s method of consumption is just burning the meat into a lump of unrecognizable carbon. Sigil actively ate it though, and Cain did as well, even though he gained nothing from it. His budding intelligence clearly told him something was going on, but the poor fool can¡¯t figure it out. The offal was just carrion, bits of organ and intestine that I truly had no use for. If we were closer to a city it might be worth hauling it to an alchemist for the minuscule value they¡¯d likely pay, but I had no desire to preserve the quickly decaying organ meat that long. The bones were my true prize. Slender, strong beyond their means, faintly twinged brown beneath their unbleached surface, fresh and full of possibility. There were too many of them to carve an individual matrix on each skeleton, I simply didn¡¯t have time to recreate Cain¡¯s original creation multiple times and still keep pace to Alberack. I¡¯d run out of food before I finished, and casting [Create Water] or similar spells to make my provisions last longer would slow down my work. I couldn¡¯t fall into that spiral. No, unfortunately these beasts would be mass produced, but that didn¡¯t necessarily mean inferior. I had a plan on how to make them work together with Cain, but the ritual would require a very complicated spellform. Not that difficulty ever dissuades me, but that means my impromptu company would have to stay here longer than I would like. Unless of course I could somehow convince Leigh to participate. Her assistance would certainly help move things along.