《1% Lifesteal》 Chapter 1 - The Passage The metallic torture device shackled around Freddy¡¯s head rang, signifying the arrival of yet another unwelcome morning. The filthy sheets of his tiny bed shifted. With much effort, he freed his arm from the lukewarm embrace of his thin covers. Then, he turned the crank on his headgear alarm. Round and round, it went, speeding up as frustration overpowered his morning weakness. The sound of crystal vibrating inside grew brighter and eventually¡ª The mechanism triggered, the ear-grating ringing stopped, and the lock released, allowing him to finally take it off. He opened his eyes. The depressing gray ceiling of his room greeted him, held up by the tight walls on each side, its corners adorned by black mold. His bed was tucked in a tight corner where he couldn¡¯t even spread his arms to their full length. The only light source was the lick of sun peeking through his shades¡ªjust enough to see where he was. Pulling the misery-inducing sleep annihilator off his head, he released his shoulder-length, greasy, black hair into a short-lived freefall and shuffled to the right, getting up. Luckily, he was of average height. If he were any taller, he couldn¡¯t stand upright with the low ceiling. Scooting sideways to reach the window, he twisted the handle. It opened, allowing the sobering morning breeze in, carrying the smell of city-brand petrichor. Finally, with a lift of the hatch, the shades were pushed aside, and the full power of the dawn, already shining over the tall buildings, entered his room. The sky was particularly blue that day, and the clouds of yesterday¡¯s rain still hung on the horizon, journeying to distant lands. Glittering reflections scattered off the floating buildings to the right and jumped off the rooftop puddles everywhere else. ¡°Fuck this shit, man,¡± he groaned. ¡°Why do I gotta work today?¡± The small studio apartment, or as he preferred to call it, the dungeon cell he lived in, was an old, tiny, cramped living space¡ªand the only home he had. The basket with his clothes hung off the low ceiling. Below it was the old, broken chest he kept his stuff in. It wasn¡¯t that big, yet it occupied the lion¡¯s share of his room, leaving but a tight, L-shaped path from his bed to the door. Picking his work clothes out of the basket¡ªthe white shirt, black pants, and red vest¡ªhe took a whiff of their stench as he brought them up to and away from his face. He raised an eyebrow. ¡°Rancid up close but unnoticeable from a distance,¡± he evaluated. ¡°I hope they don¡¯t catch me borrowing the sample perfume again.¡± After draping the uniform over the window and praying it aired out some of the stink, he took another step over a stool and entered the ¡°kitchen¡± part of his room¡ªa fridge cramped between the garbage can and the entrance to his apartment. He dragged the stool over in front of the fridge. Opening it and bumping the door into the chest, he grabbed the stale bologna sandwich he had half-eaten yesterday. Closing the fridge again, he pulled the chair closer and sat on it, using the small cooler as a table. His seat was low, and he didn¡¯t have the space to sit straight, so he ate head pushed sideways, just barely past the ground. Once done, he gathered the crumbs into his hand and threw them into the trash. The can smelled horrible, with much garbage compressed into it to save on paying the disposal fee. He took his clothes off the window and a toothbrush from a glass on the fridge. Then, he put his slippers on, squeezed between the cooler and the chest, and left his apartment, still in his old pajamas. The moment he opened the door, his stomach dropped. His neighbor, an overweight middle-aged man with a massive mustache, was chatting with an older brunette woman outside the toilet. The young man instantly looked at the clock on the wall above the bathroom. 6:43 a.m. Fright turned to anger, and he marched to confront his neighbor. ¡°James, what the hell, man!¡± The older man jumped back slightly, turning to face him. ¡°Good morning,¡± the man greeted him cautiously as he leaned back. ¡°Is everything all right?¡± He shoved the older man toward the bathroom. ¡°Get in the toilet and hurry up!¡± he urged. ¡°I¡¯m next on the schedule!¡± The man waved him down. ¡°Relax, nobody will get on your back for being a bit slow today,¡± he said with a chuckle. ¡°I¡¯ll be late to work!¡± he declared, accenting the final part of the statement to make sure it sank in. ¡°Work?¡± The man frowned. ¡°Did you forget what day it is today?¡± His tired, angry glare answered that question. The older man awkwardly coughed as he shuffled into the toilet, hurriedly closing the door behind him. He waved weakly at the older woman still outside, doing his best to put on a pleasant expression. ¡°Hello, Sharon.¡± ¡°Hey there, Fred,¡± she returned the greeting amicably. ¡°How unpleasant that you have to work on the anniversary! I¡¯d quit if I were you.¡± ¡°Oh, believe me, hahaha¡­¡± He laughed lightly. ¡°I¡¯d quit, too.¡± She chuckled and turned around, waving him goodbye. ¡°Bye, Fred! Have a good one! Hope they don¡¯t hold you up too long!¡± Just as she was about to rush up the stairs, she paused and turned to him. ¡°Hey, you could join James and I for drinks tonight if you don¡¯t mind!¡± ¡°Thanks for the offer, but I think I¡¯ll pass,¡± he declined politely. ¡°Still, uhm¡­ hope you two have fun!¡± ¡°A shame¡­ I assume you already have plans, then,¡± she said with a wink. ¡°Well, have fun!¡± His wave dropped into a light slap on his thigh, and he leaned against the wall as she disappeared up to the third floor of the building. Plans, huh¡­? As the clock ticked, he heard his neighbor singing in the shower. His foot impatiently bounced on the ground, and he gritted his teeth a bit harder every time a minute passed. 6:48 6:49 6:50 That marked the start of his turn, yet he could still hear the water running. 6:51 6:52 6:53¡ª The door unlocked, and just as James was about to apologize for taking his time, he rushed past him and locked the doors. He glanced at the toilet, angrily squeezing his buttcheeks. Looks like he¡¯d have to crap on his break again. He undressed so swiftly that he heard a slight tear from his pajamas. Into the shower he went. Even though he turned it to the maximum temperature, the water was still tepid. At the very least, the landlord provided clean towels every day, one per person, neatly stacked on a pile. Sadly, the shitty people that lived in this complex frequently helped themselves to more than one, leaving the last few on schedule with a pile of damp, stinky cloth. Even he wasn¡¯t entirely spared by this. Once, he had grabbed a used towel and, sadly, ran into the part someone used to dry their genitals, wiping his face with it. Thankfully, he would be spared such a fate as he was on the day shift again. After drying himself and angrily wrapping the towel around his waist, he walked to the mirror. He paused once he got a good look at himself. Just a week ago, his twenty-first birthday had passed. Hard to believe. Be it the stress or the acne pock marks and scars that spread over his face and body, he looked aged and weathered; his black hair, draping down the sides of his head, complemented the deep bags beneath his dark-brown eyes. There was no time to ponder his looks. Nor did he care about them. In his opinion, there was no such thing as being ¡°ugly.¡± Only poor. Toothpaste on brush, brush into mouth, and a short, furious scrub later, he was dressing. Buttoning the white shirt and pulling the black pants up, he combed his wet hair to the side and donned the red vest with the store logo. After hearing knocking on the bathroom door, he gave one last regretful look to the toilet and rushed out. Back in his apartment, he grabbed his keys and opened the fridge, taking out the cheap cold-brew coffee he had prepared the night before, one of the only luxuries he could afford, and running it through a filter. ¡°I sure hope I don¡¯t shit myself.¡± Usually, if he were late to the toilet, he would simply run to work. His clothes were already starting to smell, so if he ran today, he might get fired for stinking like ass. Or worse, a customer might hit him again. Last time, he got away with no serious injuries, as, thankfully, he didn¡¯t anger an archhuman. The next time, he might not be so lucky. Coffee in hand and shoes on feet, he left the apartment and walked out of the building at a measured pace, taking steady steps down the staircase to avoid spilling his coffee. Pulling the door open, he stepped outside and¡ª ¡°Uwoah!¡± He jumped back as a large drake nearly flattened him. The asshole riding the green lizard didn¡¯t even register his existence. Luckily, the coffee hadn¡¯t spilled on his shirt. He breathed a sigh of relief and walked out. Shooting a glance at the prick who rode away without a care in the world, he scoffed. He didn¡¯t let the disturbance throw him off-kilter. The jumpscare did hasten his heartbeat, but thankfully, it wasn¡¯t enough to make him sweat. Thus, he continued his daily ritual as he started the thirty-minute trek to his workplace. There wasn¡¯t much traffic this early, especially not in his district. The dilapidated, pothole-ridden road he walked on held a few shallow puddles, and he made sure not to step into any. The usual carriages, pulled by more drakes, made their way slowly down the road, avoiding the holes so they wouldn¡¯t break a wheel. The smell of wet drake shit filled his nostrils. They didn¡¯t clean it often enough in this part of the city. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. To his immense surprise, he had to dodge a splash when a speedy, self-propelled carriage blazed by him. Those didn¡¯t appear too often around here, but judging by its direction, it wasn¡¯t surprising. The disappearance of the potholes marked the entry into the twenty-third district, and Freddy glanced at the relatively new buildings with envy. Although few archs lived here, shops still sold weapons, mostly civilian-grade, for self-defense. Cafes were already pulling their chairs outside, and music could be heard from multiple sources. The sound of crystals designed for purposes besides ear violation was much more pleasant than the war crime that woke him up every morning. Eventually, the clean but ordinary road was replaced by shiny marble paving. As Freddy stepped into the 25th district, he began the most controversial part of his daily routine. On good days, he would admire it. On bad days, he would plot a fantasy terrorist attack in his head. Floating structures, islands, platforms, colorful bridges leading from one tall building to another, expansive, gravity-defying balconies, and vast yards, some in the shape of floating, spinning balls, resembling miniature planet gardens, were only some of the things in his vicinity. The shiny white castle on a floating island way up in the sky, the ring building to its left, and the tower that rose taller than both the floating structures were even more impressive. The wealthiest district in his entire city was a collection of the homes of powerful archhumans and their family members, who were likely archs themselves, probably with talents they were wasting with their luxury lifestyles. Exotic plants pulled from passages grew everywhere, likely as a dick-measuring contest between the residents. Despite the opulence, for over half the houses there, he had never seen a single person inside or outside, which likely meant that they were someone¡¯s second, third, or fourth, or whatever home. As he stepped into the district, he spotted the carriage that nearly splashed him a few minutes ago. Several large men pulled heavy metallic fences from the inside of the carriage, which was likely bigger than it seemed from the outside. Freddy smirked at the pointy spikes lining the surface of the fences. Someone¡¯s renovating their fuck-you-poors decorations, I see? he thought with a chuckle. Good for them. Taking a sip of coffee, he walked onward, and eventually, another one of the carriages overtook him, stopping near the district¡¯s edge on the other side. A strong sense of deja vu hit him. Similarly dressed men as those prior offloaded the exact same fences. He raised an eyebrow at that. Influential people hated feeling like someone was copying them. That likely wasn¡¯t the case, though. Some rich bastard was probably making a long ass fence in the sky or splitting the district in half. Yo, I heard you like segregation, so I put segregation in your segregation! Freddy chuckled a bit, and the workers shot him a glance. Walking past the men, he waved at them awkwardly. He finished the final sip of his coffee and threw the single-use cup into a garbage can. Once he was out of the district, he immediately took a sharp turn right and walked through tight paths between the buildings to the place where he worked. It was a medium-sized store in the 24th district where he had been working for over eight years. Charat Hypermarket, the sign said. He walked past the ¡°special offer¡± signs that he had placed himself yesterday and entered the massive store. A vast array of products stretched down the nauseatingly large building. Colorful aisles of groceries spread to each side. Fruits, vegetables, and other similar products sat to his left, while the cash registers were to his right. After making his way to the back of the store, greeting the manager to clock into his shift, and sneaking into the fragrances aisle to use a sample, he walked to one of the cash registers. Theirs was one of the few stores that worked today, and people loved forgetting small things until the last minute. If the dozens of people inside were a sign of things to come, today would be a long-ass day. *** Although it could sometimes be tiring, he didn¡¯t always hate his job. The twelve-hour shifts were a pain, but he had no life outside of work anyway. The noon lull struck, and he caught a moment to breathe. A large, rectangular broadcasting crystal hung off the wall a bit away from the cash registers. It was angled awkwardly, but he could see everything on it without much problem, even though he had to strain his ears to hear anything. A finely dressed reporter was talking about the anniversary. Freddy always found it a little morbid that it had ever become a celebrated holiday. Well, he was sure those in power today appreciated the sacrifice. ¡°Hey! Young man!¡± a middle-aged lady called as she angrily marched over to his cash register. He groaned internally, Oh, boy, here we go. ¡°You billed me wrongly! Thief!¡± she screamed, pointing an accusatory finger at him. ¡°Calm down, madam,¡± he soothed her. ¡°Please, show me your receipt.¡± With a smug, self-satisfied expression, the woman pulled the receipt out of her bag and shoved it aggressively into his face. ¡°You¡¯ve billed me twice for the napkins!¡± He briefly read through it. I¡¯ll be damned, so I did. The deepening frown on his face only widened the grin on hers. ¡°I apologize, Miss. Allow me to fix my mistake.¡± He gave the woman a well-trained smile as he reached for the bag in her hands. ¡°Hold on there, what are you doing!?¡± she interrogated as she clutched her bag and stepped back. ¡°Oh, I apologize¡±¡ªhe withdrew¡ª¡°but I have to count everything up again to refund you.¡± The woman looked peeved at that but, to his shock, managed to control her temper and wait the half a minute it would take him to scan everything. There was no way to prove she didn¡¯t just buy two sets of napkins and hide one. As a veteran in this business, however, he knew how the company dealt with such situations. The odds of catching a petty thief in action weren¡¯t high enough to justify the risk of losing a paying customer. Which is why the customer is always right, he thought sarcastically, wishing all the worst on anyone who used that phrase unironically. One item after another went past the inscribed metal scanner, and the total price showed on the tiny crystal to his right. He frowned and sucked air through his teeth as he squinted his eyes and bent forward. ¡°What?¡± he whispered to himself. It was more, not less, than before. His heart sank when he compared the receipt to the itemized list on the screen. ¡°Ah, I apologize¡­ Miss, but uh¡­ I, haha¡­¡± he chuckled stiffly. ¡°I seem to have¡­ scanned the napkins twice instead of scanning the cookies twice. That¡­ will be¡­ another two dollars,¡± he said, his voice getting smaller and smaller as he did. Expression cooling, back straightening, arms crossing¡­ Oh, for fuck¡¯s sake. *** The small line of people watched the manager lambast Freddy for a few minutes, and the woman was given a coupon for the inconvenience. He rushed to apologize when the woman walked out, but the manager waved him off, whispering to ensure none of the customers could hear him and speaking fast as he was in a hurry, ¡°You have a good record, don¡¯t worry, I get it, mistakes happen; I won¡¯t dock it from your pay or anything,¡± the manager blurted out and ran off in a rush. ¡°Keep your eyes open, and don¡¯t do that again.¡± ¡°Oh¡­ okay.¡± That didn¡¯t make it any less stressful¡­ or embarrassing. The next annoying, rude bastard rushed over before he had time to recover, pulling dozens of cans of beer out of the shopping cart. This would be a long day, indeed. *** After spending fifteen damn minutes waiting for Jenny, the chronically late night-shift worker, to take over, he finally headed home. His hand gripped the plastic bag holding the can of beans that would be his dinner tonight, and he walked on, leaving another exhausting workday behind. Muffled, loud music could be heard from many directions, and he couldn¡¯t help but feel particularly lethargic today. The 200th anniversary, huh¡­? ¡°Maybe I¡¯ll cut loose for the 300th one,¡± he joked, but a considerable part of him was serious. Perhaps that was why people celebrated the Rift. The possibility of living to see something a hundred years in the future would have been an incredible privilege for anyone two hundred years back. Sighing profoundly and keeping his head down, he reached the opulent 25th district. The moment he approached the turn, he had to stop immediately. ¡°Uh-oh¡­¡± There was a fence. And it was blocking the path through the district. He could feel a headache setting in, but he calmed himself. A man walked up to the fence and casually jumped over it as if it weren¡¯t there, startling him slightly. Turning to the right, he spotted a short line of people looking to get in and a guard letting them through. Just keep it cool, Fred. You got this, he told himself as he stepped into the back of the line. It went by rather swiftly, and soon enough, he waved at the guard and tried walking through, but the man stopped him immediately. ¡°Please provide identity verification or confirmation that you have business inside.¡± ¡°What do you mean?¡± He tried playing dumb. ¡°This is a private district. Mortals aren¡¯t allowed entry without permission.¡± Fucking what!? Since when!? he raged in his mind, but none of that showed outwardly. With a polite smile, he scratched his head and chuckled awkwardly. ¡°Oh, hahaha, sorry, sorry, I am going to a party tonight, so can you just let me through?¡± ¡°Please provide a ticket or name of the person that invited you,¡± the guard requested as he pulled a list out of his suit, and Freddy bit his lip. ¡°His name is John.¡± The guard raised an eyebrow. ¡°John, who?¡± ¡°John¡­ Smith.¡± ¡°Nobody by the name of John Smith is expecting guests,¡± the guard declared. ¡°I¡¯m not a guest. I¡¯m a¡­ uh¡­ an en¡ªter¡ªtainer? Yeah, I¡¯m a dancer. Of a, you know¡±¡ªhe waved his hands around his torso¡ª¡°special kind.¡± ¡°Sir, I will have to ask you to step away.¡± The line behind him grew longer, and he made a last-ditch effort. ¡°Insolent! Do you have any idea who my father is!?¡± Glancing at the beans swinging in the bag he carried in his hands, the guard gave him a flat look, then gently but firmly pushed him to the side. Fuck! he screamed internally as he hesitantly turned around, tightening the grip on the bag in his hand. A few people in line laughed at him, but that was far from his biggest problem. Biting his fist in frustration, he walked away from the gathering crowd and sat on a short wall. He wasn¡¯t here for sightseeing; he had to go home! Glancing to the left of the Bastard Barricade, then to the right, he felt himself shaking a little, and he had to swallow a lump in his throat. It was already nearly 8 p.m. The 25th district wasn¡¯t that big, but it was a different story if he had to walk all the way around it. If he went left through the rest of the 24th district, where he was currently located, he would have to add another forty minutes to his daily routine, both to and from work. With his work time, he barely had three hours of free time a day, and his chores devoured most of that. Even that night, he was supposed to head to the damn laundromat to wash his clothes. Taking deep breaths and clenching the bag, he murmured into his chin, ¡°Calm down, Freddy. You got this.¡± He could also go right, adding barely another ten minutes to the walk. Not that he was a big fan of classism¡­ but right¡­ that was the bad part of the city. The 26th district was quite firmly walled off from the twenty-fifth. And that simple wall hop made all the difference in the world. He wasn¡¯t unlucky enough to get robbed¡­ Hopefully. ¡°Whatever¡­¡± He breathed out as he got up and walked right. What robbery? The only thing of any value on his person was a damn can of beans. And he¡¯d rather lose a kidney or two than walk home for over an hour. As he proceeded, it wasn¡¯t long until the sounds of music grew more distant and muffled. The exact line that separated the 26th district was clear as day, given that that was precisely where the street maintenance ended. Ragged roads, worn-out buildings, and trash lining the corners reminded him of a bittersweet part of his life. Lots of people walked the streets. Teens gathered in every corner, and loud talking could be heard everywhere. He couldn¡¯t help but feel bad for his earlier thinking. All he saw here were people having fun and living their best lives. But he felt a lot less sorry after he ran into a group of three drunk, shirtless men who hugged him, grabbed the bag of beans out of his hands, and ridiculed him, screaming ¡°boy got beans¡± and the like. Thankfully, they returned his food, and he went on his way. Beans wouldn¡¯t be on the menu for a while again. Eventually, he reached a turn and took another quick shortcut. ¡°Oh, yeah, this is where Greg¡¯s place used to be,¡± he mused. They used to take him there when he was little. Yet another reason not to walk this route. Walking through the relatively narrow space between the buildings, he noticed someone had left their doors open. He was somewhat taken aback by how bright the inside of that place was. The doors were massive, and the light was far from natural. Some part of him screamed that something was wrong, but he was too tired to put two and two together. It was only as he walked past it, turning his head and reflexively violating the privacy of the supposed owners, that he realized this was no home at all. His grip on the grocery bag tightened, and his legs froze. The world spun as he stepped right in front of a portal leading onto an endless, open field of golden grass. Chapter 2 - Invasion His instincts flared up. Every pore oozed sweat. His mind had yet to catch up, but his body was already preparing for a life-or-death scenario. The vast, unnaturally blue sky and the gently swaying golden grass stretched so far into the horizon that the scale left him frozen. But his nose knew what it smelled. Past the comforting smell of earth and grass, there was a shade of danger¡ªa fragrance he had met during a nasty workplace accident¡ªit was the smell of blood. The grass shifted. ¡°Ggegek!¡± a tiny creature called out in a strange tongue. Wearing green, textured cloaks and wooden masks, miniature humanoids popped their heads above the grass. With the sounds of metal rubbing against cloth, shiny daggers appeared in their grip. ¡°Ggeheg!¡± another yelled. ¡°Ggonggi!¡± the one next to it replied. It was at this point that it had become undeniable. ¡°Oh God¡­ it¡¯s a passage¡­¡± he breathed out in pure disbelief. Another of these things appeared. It was uncomfortably close. His eyes met the two black holes where its eyes presumably were, and he maintained eye contact. Every second felt like an eternity. Suddenly, the creature crouched and, with a loud thud, propelled itself toward him, and he barely dodged by throwing his body to the side. A metallic twang rang off the wall, and he turned, only to spot the creature struggling to extract its weapon from the brick it was stabbed into. ¡°This can¡¯t be happening¡­¡± he said as he rushed up. It finally finished pulling its dagger out. Then, it turned to its brethren and yelled, ¡°Gonggi ggon!¡± A cacophony of cheering and battle cries made its way out of the passage. He screamed and ran like mad, swinging the bag with the can of beans as he sprinted into the middle of the road, nearly tripping on one of the many potholes. The people in the streets turned their heads in the direction of the screaming lunatic. Barely catching a breath, he managed to yell out, ¡°Passage break! Run for your lives!¡± Everyone was on their feet in moments. A horde of tiny, humanoid creatures ran out from behind the building. The people screamed and ran, tripping over nothing as they scattered. The locked doors of buildings were pounded on over and over as the people begged to be let inside, away from the incoming danger. For many, it was already too late. The monsters pouring onto the streets were fast, frighteningly so. They dashed and landed on people within seconds, pulling tiny, nasty daggers from nowhere and cutting throats open, disemboweling with a single swift movement, and piercing hearts with lethal precision. He saw a young woman¡¯s decapitated body drop dead to the ground, her blood pooling rapidly, and he whimpered, unable to get the gruesome picture out of his head. A loud whoosh could be heard every few seconds, and a scream usually followed, if the victims could muster even that. Whenever those things did that supernaturally quick dash, it made an ominous sound, quickly becoming associated with a bloody scream immediately afterward. His heartbeat hastened every time he heard that thud of death, and he felt his back tighten, expecting a blade to soon be embedded into it. It sounded again. And again. And again. The haunting thuds grew louder, and he couldn¡¯t help but turn around. One of the creatures had just finished stabbing an elderly man to death, and as he turned to face it, it sensed his gaze and met it. ¡°Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,¡± he repeated as he madly dashed. Breath ragged, legs on fire, he had no time to care; the pitter-patter of that thing¡¯s tiny feet grew louder in his ears until finally¡ª There was no time to think. Out of pure reflex, he swung the bag, and as he turned, he came mask to face with the creature flying at him, everything moving in slow motion as he watched the can of beans collide directly with the creature¡¯s head. The impact burst the can and spilled its contents into the bag, which tore, sending a rain of legumes over the street and knocking the attacker away, sending its weapon clattering to the ground. It was still alive, and as he watched it try to get up, he grabbed the jagged dagger before it could reach for it. He leaped at the monster, fueled by more adrenaline than he¡¯d ever experienced in his life, and stabbed the serrated weapon, which he gripped with both hands, into its back while screaming ¡°Die, die, die!¡± like a maniac, ignoring its yelps of agony. The creature¡¯s body was as tough as tanned leather, but eventually, the green cloak became drenched, and the dagger went deeper and deeper, every subsequent swing squirting more blood over him. Eventually, it stopped moving. As its life abandoned its tiny corpse, he felt something strange deep in his torso. It burned. Suddenly, he felt dizzy, and he nearly collapsed. Irregular shapes swirled in his vision, and noises and voices rang in his ears, saying something he couldn¡¯t understand as the searing-hot sensation became effervescent, sizzling and spreading through his body and numbing it. Just as he felt like he was about to lose consciousness, it popped like a bubble, and his vision cleared. With the weapon in his left hand and the torn grocery bag in the other, he got up and sprinted away, leaving the corpse behind. Several creatures appeared beside their mutilated comrade, and soon they turned their gazes to his back. ¡°Ggehokk!?¡± one of them screamed. ¡°Ggegge heggerrino ghoggiarra!¡± ¡°Ghoggiarra!¡± the others echoed. ¡°Oh no¡­ Oh no, no, no.¡± His steps quickened; the pitter-patter instantly followed, and just like before, he heard them catching up at a frightening speed. His grip tightened around the dagger, and he wondered whether he should try to fight it out but instantly realized how stupid that would be. Yet he didn¡¯t let go of the weapon. The adrenaline pushed his legs faster than he ever believed he could run; his gaze rapidly searched for any hope of escape, and soon, his eyes met a man wearing a fancy black suit. Grasping onto the faint hope that it wasn¡¯t just some drunk partygoer, he screamed, ¡°Help!¡± He nearly stumbled. ¡°Help me!¡± But the man suddenly vanished, and before he could see where, another thud sprang off the road behind him. Once more, he turned around, betting on one final, wild swing. However, the moment his eyes turned behind his back, he knew it was already too late as he saw the creature nearly on top of him, dagger poised to¡ª Suddenly, a spear came flying out of nowhere, impaling the creature¡¯s throat and pinning it to a wall. He tripped, dropping to the ground and tumbling away, nearly cutting himself on the dagger. The man he had seen just a moment ago appeared, and several others soon arrived beside him. A burly man dressed in expensive, fashionable clothing ran in, swinging a furiously hot blade to cleave one of the invaders in half. Arrows soundlessly flew out of nowhere, striking the creatures with lethal precision. Some were killed instantly, and others were gruesomely wounded as they rushed to hide between the buildings. A woman in a red dress, holding a massive hammer, jumped off the top of a building to pulverize one of the fleeing creatures into mush, turning around and following up with a smash to another¡¯s chest and a tomahawk kick to a third¡¯s skull. Another one of the monsters was just about to leap off the ground to jump at her, but a small patch of land beneath its foot spread open, trapping its leg within and turning it into a sitting duck for the hidden archer. The spear wielder pulled his weapon out of the wall, freeing the cloaked creature¡¯s corpse, which tumbled to the ground. The other two paused and hesitantly observed the man until one of them began yelling at him. ¡°Ghoggiarra ggungi, gguggingo! Ggongi!¡± ¡°Revenge¡­?¡± the man asked with a chuckle, poising his weapon to strike. ¡°It is you who are invading enemy territory, little one. Our retaliation is just.¡± The spear wielder dashed at speeds far greater than even the little creatures could manage and cleanly stabbed through their heads with rapid, snappy thrusts, leaving perfectly circular holes behind. His savior turned around, and he tried thanking him but found his throat had seized up. ¡°Hello!¡± the man greeted him. ¡°Please wait until we sort out the break. We¡¯ll need you for the witness report.¡± There was nothing he could say to that. The man ran around in the vicinity, gathering more terrified survivors. Time flew by simultaneously, unnaturally slowly and unusually quickly. All he could remember were flashes of talking to someone else and seeing others crying and calling names that would likely soon appear in an obituary. It just felt so surreal. Soon enough, he was broken out of the strange stupor, sitting on the street next to several others as men and women in uniforms gathered around the crowds. One of them wrapped his body in a foil blanket, and he didn¡¯t understand why at first. Soon, he noticed the bone-chilling cold that filled his body and his almost wholly wet clothes. Sweat covered him from head to toe, and he was shivering uncontrollably. His hands were colder than he ever remembered them being. Once it was his turn, the paramedic led him to a chair, where an officer told him to sit. They checked him for injuries and blared a light crystal into his eyes for some reason. They asked him a few general questions about his well-being, to which he either answered curtly or just nodded. Suddenly, someone mentioned the word ¡°insurance¡± somewhere in the background, and he perked up, immediately cured of his trauma. ¡°Insurance? Where? Who?¡± ¡°Sir, are you all right?¡± The officer before him waved a hand before his face, and he slowly blinked at him. The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°Huh?¡± he asked dumbly. ¡°Ah, yes, I¡¯m doing swell. I¡­ I have a quick question, i-if you don¡¯t mind, of course.¡± The man raised an eyebrow but soon nodded. ¡°Brilliant, thanks. I just want to know real quick, do we get uhm¡­ any form of¡­¡± He carefully picked his following words, ¡°reimbursement for this horribly traumatizing event?¡± The man shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m not a lawyer, kiddo. You¡¯ll have to check that later with someone.¡± A uniformed woman approached their position, and the officer turned to greet her, then back to him. He paused, turning to the woman again, and forwarded Freddy¡¯s question. She thought about it for a moment. ¡°I think yes. Wait.¡± After turning to Freddy, she asked, ¡°Are you a resident of this district or one directly neighboring it?¡± ¡°Yes!¡± he rushed to confirm. ¡°I live in District 19!¡± ¡°Mmmm,¡± the woman hummed with a shake of her head. ¡°That¡¯s not directly neighboring,¡± she declared. ¡°What!?¡± he spluttered. ¡°You go directly from one to the other!¡± ¡°You cross through a small patch of District 19 first.¡± ¡°That¡¯s bullshit!¡± The man lifted a hand to soothe him. ¡°Relax, sir, please. General insurance will still cover this,¡± he comforted him. After that, he grabbed a pen and wrote something down on a notepad. Freddy looked like he swallowed piss. He did not have insurance. Not even medical. ¡°Wait! I¡­ I¡­ I used to live here! And the border is so, so close. Does that not count!?¡± he spat with a strange shiver in his voice. The officer didn¡¯t even raise his head. ¡°Look, you can get a lawyer and take it to court. Maybe you have a case.¡± As if he could afford a lawyer. Tears pooled around his eyes upon hearing that. Sure, it was a traumatizing tragedy, but if payment were involved¡­ well, he¡¯d get over it. ¡°Wait!¡± he exclaimed, raising his head again. ¡°Sorry, uhm, I¡­ I also killed! Yes! I killed one of them!¡± The two officers shot him a death glare, and he rushed to explain. ¡°The monsters! One of the monsters! N-Not people! Monsters. I killed one.¡± The officer in front of him straightened his posture and looked him in the eye. ¡°Can you please describe it in more detail?¡± ¡°Yes, yes, I can! Uh, I was¡­ I carried a bag. Beans. I had beans in the grocery bag. Where is my bag?¡± He looked around frantically, and the man pointed at his hands, where he was still holding the broken bag. ¡°Yes!¡± He lifted the brown-stained object. ¡°This bag! There was a can of beans in it! And then I¡­ I swung it! Like whoosh, I heard the sound they made while dashing, and then boom, the can of beans in the bag hit one in its head; it was dashing like really fast, so it flew into it, smashing its head with like a twunk, and uh, and then I stabbed it¡­ and¡­ uh¡­ it died.¡± ¡°Uh-huh. Right,¡± the officer confirmed as he wrote something down. ¡°Can of beans,¡± he said, punctuating whatever he had written on the notepad with an aggressive dot. ¡°On an unrelated note, you should probably seek a psychiatric evaluation after this event.¡± ¡°What!? No, I¡¯m not crazy! I-I really did it! Look!¡± he said as he pulled the jagged, bloody dagger out of the foil blanket wrapping his body, a weapon he had somehow managed to conceal through the paramedic check-up. Instantly, the officer sprang forth, grabbing it by the dried bloody blade and firmly pulling it out of his hand, seemingly without fear of cutting himself. ¡°I¡¯m not sure where you picked this up, sir,¡± he said with an edge to his voice, ¡°but even if you¡¯ve killed one, mortals don¡¯t get paid for takedowns during breaks. Unqualified individuals should evacuate, not risk their lives for money,¡± he said the last part in a reprimanding tone. The man carefully handed the weapon to a colleague and turned to him again with a hint of curiosity in his eye. ¡°However, if you did do it, you could perhaps manifest a prime.¡± His mood dropping like a stone, he deflated. Yeah, right, a prime. May as well buy a lottery ticket. In a last-ditch effort, he pointed at the officer carrying the dagger away. ¡°Do I get anything for the dagger?¡± The man shook his head, and he nodded, disappointment clear in his expression. ¡°I see.¡± Before he was allowed to leave, he was shaken down to ensure he hadn¡¯t taken any other dangerous objects from one of the invaders. The plastic bag was confiscated as well, for whatever reason. With that done, the man asked whether he had anything else to report or further questions. He didn¡¯t, so the officer moved on to the next victim. He was about to head back home, but then¡­ he paused. Every dark corner of the streets before him resembled a death trap, and he felt a deep sense of panic overtaking him. His breathing hastened, his heartbeat sped up¡ª He jumped as one of the female officers put a hand on his shoulder. ¡°Sir, please wait right here,¡± she politely requested. ¡°We¡¯ll be driving victims back to their homes soon.¡± So he stayed and was eventually escorted into a carriage. It was indeed a lot bigger on the inside. The vehicle was filled with exhausted-looking people, and many had vacant eyes. Random blood splatters covered some of them; for better or worse, it didn¡¯t look like it was their own. The light in the carriage provided ample illumination for him to confirm that he was indeed one of those covered in blood. And judging by the gruesome splatters all over his body, he was easily in the upper echelon of stained victims. An old man sitting to his left, with clothes almost as bloody as his, suddenly grabbed his shirt aggressively, and with tearful eyes, he asked, ¡°Hey, did you¡­ Did you hide under a body, too? You did.¡± Freddy was creeped out by this stranger¡¯s behavior and tried his best to politely push him away, but the man was insistent. ¡°Yes, okay, I hid under a body!¡± he said, trying to get the man off his back. The man smiled, chuckling and muttering, ¡°You did¡­ Yes, you did. You did do it!¡± The man shivered. ¡°Of course you would,¡± he said with a pained expression, defensively wrapping his arms around his stomach. ¡°It¡¯s better than dying.¡± The others glanced at the two of them surreptitiously, and he avoided eye contact. Eventually, his name was called when they reached his address. Once he left, he hurriedly rushed into his building, anxiously checking every shadow around him for movement, and by the end, he had entered a half-run. After fumbling with the keys to the entrance to his building, he closed the doors a little harder than he intended and winced at the loud crash. The staircase was an intimidating opponent after such a day, but he forced himself to walk up. Once he entered the hallway of the second floor, he groaned at the time. It was 2 a.m. Yeah¡­ No. His fear of his boss wasn¡¯t enough to stop him from taking a day off tomorrow. He groaned hard as he realized he had to go to the first floor again. He hurriedly rushed down the stairs until he reached the contact tablet. Someone opened the door to the building, causing him to violently jump, and he spotted James and Sharon stumbling into the hallway, clearly drunk out of their minds. The faint light of the half-broken hallway lantern made it hard to see, so they spotted and recognized him far before they did his blood-splattered clothing. Once they came close enough to see it, Sharon screamed, and James fell on his ass, whimpering in fright. ¡°Jesus Christ, Freddy!¡± he yelled. ¡°What the hell happened!?¡± The blood-covered victim waved his hands to soothe them. ¡°Don¡¯t worry! Don¡¯t worry! It¡¯s not my blood!¡± James¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°Whose blood is it, then!?¡± ¡°It¡¯s a¡­¡± he rushed to explain. ¡°Oh, God, there was a break and¡­ monsters. Just¡­¡± he pinched his forehead and sighed. ¡°You¡¯ll hear it on the news tomorrow.¡± They calmed a bit, and Sharon approached him while profusely apologizing, grabbing his face, and examining him for any injuries. ¡°Are you okay!?¡± she asked. ¡°Do you need any help? Are you hurt!?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry¡­ I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m fine.¡± James got up and approached him as well. ¡°Dear God, Freddy, look at you! I¡¯ve never seen this much blood in my life!¡± the man said, his gaze betraying a hint of fascination. Sharon grabbed his arm, and he pushed her back out of reflex, more aggressively than he intended, making them back away from him. Putting his hands up and down a few times, he finally spoke. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ Look, we¡¯ll talk tomorrow. Just¡­¡± He pointed at the tablet. ¡°I have to get something done, and I¡­ I¡­¡± He turned around, hiding the blood splatters on his clothing. ¡°I need some privacy now.¡± They nodded and walked up the stairs, shooting him a few worried glances as he turned to the contact device. Given the slight tremor to his touch, it took him a few attempts to correctly write his boss¡¯s name and unique ID on the small stone surface, but eventually, the tablet lit up. He put a handful of coins into the open slot, parting with three dollars, which was a total scam, and started writing on the tablet. He had to make the letters relatively small to fit his entire message. Even then, the contents came across as rather curt. The threat of getting fired wasn¡¯t enough to get him to cough up more money, so he sent the message and returned to climbing the stairs. His legs and feet ached as he pulled himself up with great effort. Once he was at his apartment again, he unlocked the door and went inside. The stale smell of his room immediately reminded him that he was supposed to throw the trash out today. Hurriedly, he took his bloodied uniform off and threw it on the floor, hiding it behind the trash can. Breathing raggedly, he backed away but soon calmed himself and plopped his stinky body onto his filthy sheets. Oh, yeah¡­ he suddenly remembered. I guess I¡¯ll be eating sleep for dinner tonight. Or so he thought. Yet, he found the prospect of falling asleep impossible. He didn¡¯t feel tired. To his own surprise, he didn¡¯t even feel bad, other than the few bruises he¡¯d suffered from his two falls. Once he calmed down a bit, he felt fine. So, he got up. If he wasn¡¯t going to work tomorrow, he might as well stay up as late as he wanted. After getting off his bed, he walked to the chest and opened it. There was a pile of books in a corner, and he pulled out one from the bottom. Magic Before Ether, the title said. It was his favorite book. It talked about the once glorious technology mankind had achieved before the Rift took it away. Cars. Televisions. Computers. Airplanes. True, ether allowed for things that mankind hadn¡¯t achieved even back then, but that didn¡¯t mean it had been impossible. Most of the old technology had been recreated in new ways under the limitations enforced by the altered physics, but he couldn¡¯t help but admire the people¡¯s dreams back then. They dared aspire to achievements such as Dyson spheres, interplanetary travel, and artificial intelligence. A big part of him wondered whether greater heights could be achieved now or back then. Both eras had their advantages and perils. Life hadn¡¯t been easier back then, but at least monsters had been nothing but a fairy tale. At least¡ª The book¡¯s pages slammed with a thump, and he found his heart beating rapidly again. He put the book back into the chest and closed it. The room felt suffocating, so he opened the window. The fresh outside air didn¡¯t make him feel any better. The music, still echoing far and wide, filled his ears, and lights flickered through the sky, mostly coming from the floating structures. He put a hand to his mouth as puke rushed up, and he couldn¡¯t hold it back. There was nothing to throw up besides a few drops of yellow liquid, promptly ejected with a few gags. He watched them fall to the street below and quickly shut the shades, closing the window behind them. The sheets wrapped tightly around his body. Restless, it wasn¡¯t long until he got up to check whether his doors were locked. Back in bed again, for the first time in his life, he felt grateful that his apartment was so small and there was nowhere anything could hide. Yet, there was a bit of space under him. He moved to the side and checked, laughing a bit. How stupid. He was so old and still afraid of monsters under his bed. The space above his chest, where his clothes basket hung off the ceiling, was out of sight. So, he bent forward enough to confirm nothing was there, either. He checked the inside of the chest, too, just in case. As he looked at every corner of his room and once again confirmed the apartment was locked, he finally dropped onto his bed¡­ just to again get out of it and move the chest in front of the door to block it. He grabbed the handle on the window, tightening it and making sure it was extra closed. Checking behind the garbage can, for a moment, he thought his clothes had shifted, and he jumped back, yelling a bit. He kicked the can forward and on top of the bloodied clothes to hide them from view. That was enough for him to return to bed. The raging sound of his heartbeat pounded in his ears, and the taste of acid was in the back of his throat. The muffled sounds of the outside gradually silenced, and eventually, exhaustion finally won as the long-awaited grasp of sleep whisked him away. *** He was awakened by a sharp pain that felt like it was coming from everywhere on his body. It fizzled and crackled, numbing his limbs. A bright flash of green light soon followed it, and the agony abruptly stopped. He woke up with a jolt, taking a deep breath and looking around the room in a panic. ¡°Was that sleep paralysis? A nightmare? What the hell, man¡­? It just keeps getting¡­¡± The faint light peering through his shades only faintly illuminated his room, but it was enough to spot something unusual sitting on his bed. There was a ball. And it had a face. A green face that looked as if it were stretched over a sphere sat on his sheets, staring at him and grinning widely. ¡°What are you looking at, you fucking bitch!?¡± Chapter 3 - Prime Vestige ¡°Sweet mother of¡ª¡± Freddy kicked the green face off his bed, and it shrieked as it flew behind his garbage can. His legs burned, and his abs screamed in protest, but he rushed to grab the headgear off the floor beside his bed and got up, accidentally slamming his head into the ceiling. ¡°Argh!¡± The thing spoke again, ¡°You bastard child! How dare you do that to me!?¡± ¡°What the¡ª¡± As his mind finally caught up with the reality of the situation, the headgear dropped out of his hands with a metallic clang, and his mouth hung wide open. ¡°Holy¡­¡± He walked forward, carefully stepping off his bed. ¡°Holy shit!¡± He grabbed the garbage can, jumping back again at the sight of his bloody clothes, and as he spotted the green face on the floor, he stared at it, utterly dumbfounded. ¡°What are you staring at, you idiot!?¡± the thing asked him. ¡°If I had saliva glands, I¡¯d spit on your feet!¡± His face gradually morphed into a shaky grin, and with a tearful laugh, he joyfully reached for the green face, lifting it into the air as if it were a holy object. ¡°I can¡¯t believe it!¡± He laughed again, tears running down his face. ¡°Holy shit, I can¡¯t believe it! It¡¯s a prime vestige!¡± He immediately slapped his mouth shut. Slithering over to his bed, he covered his head with his sheets and shushed the green ball, listening for any sounds in the hallway. Nobody was there. ¡°I swear, you¡¯re a lunatic!¡± the ball said in a voice far louder than he wanted it to. So he yet again shushed it aggressively. ¡°Shhhhhh! Be quiet, please! If someone finds out, they might try to steal you!¡± ¡°As if you¡¯d care!¡± it said. ¡°I¡¯m sure you watch men plow your wife¡¯s fields every day!¡± ¡°Men what!?¡± he scream-whispered to the odd ball. ¡°I¡¯m not married!¡± ¡°Ha! Figures.¡± He took a deep breath and calmed himself. His heart roared in his chest, and he struggled to remember what to do. As far as he knew, if asked a question, primes had to speak if they had the answer. So ask a question he would. ¡°Tell me, now¡­¡± Yet he couldn¡¯t muster the words. This was a big deal. Depending on the answer, his entire future would change. However, he had to ask. Rather than dwell on it, he forced himself to speak. ¡°Tell me¡­¡± he said with a lick that desperately tried rehydrating his parched lips. His vision blurred, and his stomach felt like it was dropping into an endless pit, reaching deeper by the second as he finished his question, ¡°What power do you hold?¡± It stared at him for a mere moment. Then, it answered his question. ¡°Super farmer!¡± He blinked. ¡°Excuse me?¡± ¡°If you embrace me into your soul, you will become a master farmer! All the crops you plant shall have a greater yield, and you may even buy a wife with the produce! So you can watch other men take her away from you!¡± it said, and then it returned to its loud yells, curses, and blabbering. Disbelief radiated from him. ¡°You¡¯re kidding, right?¡± But before the green face could even answer, he knew the truth. His hands tremored, his eyes teared up¡ª ¡°No.¡± Blinking the tears away, he nearly bit himself in anger at his stupidity. By the mere virtue of being a prime vestige, this object was worth more than all his savings and possessions combined, even with a non-combat talent. Hiding the ball beneath his blankets as he got up, he walked to his clothes basket and donned his only set of casual clothing. He was still dirty, and his clothes smelled of sweat, but this was no time to be concerned about that. Returning to his bed, he grabbed the prime, urging it to be quiet, but it simply refused to stop screaming. ¡°All right. If that¡¯s how you want to play,¡± he said as he grabbed his sheets and wrapped it up until its screams were reduced to a faint whisper. He didn¡¯t dare leave the thing in his apartment, yet couldn¡¯t gather up the courage to take it out either. He moved the chest still barricading his door, carefully cracked the entrance open, and peered into the hallway. Just barely in sight, the clock showed it was already early afternoon. That was good news. It meant few people would be walking around inside the building, and the toilet was likely empty. Although his looks were the last thing on his mind, judging by how dirty he felt, he probably didn¡¯t look all that civilized. At the very least, he should look presentable. The chest shot open, and he threw things out until he made enough space to fit his balled-up sheets. After stuffing them inside and locking the chest, he stepped out into the hallway. The moment he left, a woman almost bumped into him, and she screamed as she violently jumped back, nearly giving him a heart attack. After recovering from her shock, she gave him a strange look, and he raised an eyebrow as she quickly walked past him. Ignoring the woman, he rushed to the bathroom. ¡°Jesus!¡± The mirror in the toilet instantly justified the woman¡¯s reaction. His hair was an absolute mess, and his face still had blood splatters, although they had been reduced to brown stains. Quickly rinsing his face and wetting his hair to comb it into shape, he made himself look at least somewhat presentable, although he still smelled like crap. The sound of running water reminded him that he was brutally thirsty, and he leaned beneath the faucet, pouring the water straight into his mouth. Once done, he prepared to leave. His hand firmly gripped the bathroom door handle, but he hesitated. The rancid smell of his body was apparent, even to himself, and where he was heading, it was best he avoided being thrown out for something so petty. So he swallowed his impatience and forced himself to undress and shower. Once out, he didn¡¯t even bother checking whether the towel was clean as he swiftly dried himself, put his clothes on, and rushed out. Back in his apartment, he unlocked the chest and picked up the pile of sheets. Within seconds, he was out of his apartment, down the stairs, and on the streets. When he was out, he slowed down a bit but still maintained a hasty pace. Nobody even glanced at him. But the vestige could still be heard from up close, and as three young men walked past him, one of them turned around. ¡°Yo, did y¡¯all just hear screaming?¡± He maintained the same pace, and within moments, the men lost interest, allowing him to breathe a sigh of relief. Soon enough, he stepped into the twenty-third district and marched onward. People were already gathering in the cafes, and he overheard several conversations about the break that happened yesterday. A slight pang of anxiety struck him as he remembered the gruesome event, but it didn¡¯t take much for him to push it down. Something, something, life went on, something¡ªwho gives a crap about that!? He was carrying a damn prime vestige in his arms¡ªthe dream of countless people, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to become an archhuman! If he, no, once he ascended, it likely wouldn¡¯t be the only time he witnessed something of the sort. As he saw the massive, colorful buildings of the 25th district appear from between the plain construction of the twenty-third, the anxious thoughts of yesterday¡¯s event were quickly pushed aside. He kept his eyes on the prize, and after a few more minutes of walking, he appeared before the gates. It was blocked, and there was a guard outside. His steps slowed, and he bit his lip. ¡°Oh, come the fuck¡­!¡± How had he forgotten about this!? There was no way they would let him inside! Or¡­ wait. Didn¡¯t the prime count as justification that he had business inside? But showing it wasn¡¯t something he was enthusiastic about. Why did they put these damn fences up to begin with? Anyone who could step foot onto a rich arch¡¯s private property without dying instantly wouldn¡¯t be stopped by a gate like this. Hell, Freddy had witnessed a man jump the fence, and the guard had ignored him. So why? Was this just a cruel flex on them lowly mortals? He swallowed the bitter feelings and stepped up to the gatekeeper. ¡°Please provide verification or reason for entry,¡± the suited, bald man recited. Every cell in his body protested against unwrapping the sheets, but he pushed through the reluctance and peeled the layers open, revealing the screaming green ball inside. ¡°Put me in there again, and I will skin your ass with my teeth!¡± it screamed, eyes bulging. Everyone nearby instantly turned at the commotion, and the gatekeeper simply nodded, moving away so he could pass. ¡°Was that guy carrying a prime?¡± someone asked. ¡°Lucky bastard,¡± another commented. He ignored the strangers and walked into the district, wrapping the prime back up. Huh¡­ he mused. It really was that easy. Vowing to fight injustice at some point in the future when he was unimaginably wealthy and powerful, he stepped past the man and walked into the 25th district. He knew where to go, and with every step he took closer to his destination, his heartbeat sped up just a bit. The 25th district often appeared barren, even if he knew damn well that that wasn¡¯t the case. It was just that the sky bridges connecting the floating structures and the underground transport system were considerably more popular forms of transit for the residents. And he wasn¡¯t even privileged enough to see who was using them. Yet, the closer he got to his target, the more people seemingly popped out of nowhere, and the population of obviously, and sometimes, obnoxiously wealthy individuals walking the streets sharply increased. Even among archhumans, there were higher and lower classes. While power wasn¡¯t strictly tied to this, the number of stars in one¡¯s soul was the primary way this ranking was determined. Starting from a single star, archhumans were not much different from regular humans. But from the second onward, there were visible changes that made them clearly stand out. Unusual physiological traits, like unnatural hair and eye color, superhuman beauty, pronounced height or physical size, and most noticeably¡ªthe aura. Those of the second star onward gave off a faint feeling of oppression to those below them. They could hold it back, too, but¡­ nobody here cared to do that. Ragged breathing and shaky steps, nausea, dizziness, and intense anxiety accompanied his every step. The way forward felt like he was walking barefoot up a steep mountain covered in thorns and broken glass. But as time passed, he got used to it. Eventually, the massive, pearly white Archhumanity¡¯s Trading Association building appeared before him. He took measured steps to get closer. A large clearing, paved in marble, spread before the building, and dozens of inscribed golden orbs floated around ten feet or so off the ground. A long set of stairs led up to the entrance, and the only thing stopping the many people who were walking around from forming a crowd was the sheer size of the courtyard. Anxiously glancing at the ball of sheets, he quickly realized that he should get rid of them. Nobody would dare steal here, but he may be thrown out if he walked inside carrying something like this. With some hesitation, he pulled the still-screaming vestige out and dropped the sheets into a nearby garbage can. It was rather sad watching them go. The prime vestige was still screaming its figurative lungs out, and he couldn¡¯t muster the bravery to walk into the building with something so attention-grabbing. Several people dressed in clothing, likely worth more than his life, glanced his way, making him wince at their cold gazes. He squeezed the little green ball and repeatedly told it to calm down, without much success. Finally, he snapped. ¡°Will you just shut the fuck¡ª¡± ¡°Sir?¡± a deep, male voice sounded. He jumped and turned around, facing a formally dressed older gentleman, one that heavily reminded him of a butler. ¡°Huh? I mean, uh, hello, hi, how are you? I mean, uh, who are you? No, I¡ª¡± The man chuckled and continued, ¡°I apologize for the scare. I¡¯m an ATA employee,¡± he said as he pulled a small glass box out of nowhere. Freddy stared at it in consternation. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± he asked cautiously before remembering to add, ¡°If you don¡¯t mind telling me¡­ Sir.¡± ¡°This insulating box is used to restrain rowdy primes,¡± he explained. ¡°No offense, and I do mean this with all due respect, but¡±¡ªhe skeptically glanced at the glass box¡ª¡°how do I know that¡¯s what you claim it is?¡± Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. ¡°You can relax, sir.¡± The man pointed at a floating golden orb hovering slightly to their right. ¡°I assure you, if anyone attempted theft on the association¡¯s grounds, they wouldn¡¯t even get away with their lives, let alone your possessions.¡± He chuckled awkwardly at the ominous assurance but gratefully grabbed the glass box, thanking the man for the help. After putting the prime vestige inside and closing the contraption, he realized he could still hear the thing screaming at nearly full volume. Confusion set in. The man reached to pull a small hatch down, which immediately cut the sound off. He winced at his ignorance and nodded at the man in gratitude. ¡°Thank you, kind sir,¡± he thanked the man. ¡°Uh, I guess I will be on my way¡­?¡± ¡°Enjoy your stay, sir,¡± the man said with a smile. He started walking away. ¡°And please,¡± the ominous butler added, ¡°do not forget to return the box.¡± Parting with the man after those vaguely threatening words, he walked into the building, his heart beating out of his chest. Three steps up, and his abs and legs were already reminding him of yesterday¡¯s events. Enduring the pain, he walked up, and with every step he took and every fancy individual he passed, he felt more shame at his ragged clothing and low-class demeanor. Eventually, he walked the last step and went through the golden gates that led into the building. ¡°Wow¡­¡± The marble highlighted the warm ambient lighting perfectly, and the dark wood subdued the environment, creating a stark yet appealing contrast between haughty opulence and humble but classy wood. Numerous paintings lined the walls, beautiful chandeliers hung from above, and flickering, floating balls of fluffy, blue smoke fashioned a faux sky across the ceiling. Doing his best to avoid looking like a hick, he walked forward, confidently holding the box, even proudly presenting it. However, when he realized that everyone here carried something of value, commonly more so than his singular prime vestige, he put the box down, holding it casually as if it were a bag of groceries. As he walked forward, he slowed down around the center of the room. He had something of a problem. ¡°Where the hell am I supposed to go?¡± he whispered into his chin. Countless people were walking about, leaving and entering dozens of doors lining the wall on the other side of the entrance. There was nothing else anywhere to be seen¡ªno reception desk, no anyone that appeared to be an employee, no nothing. Subtly peeking into some of the doors, he realized that inside them, yet again, the rooms were bigger on the inside. Rich bastards sure have a fetish for space dilation. Casually striding closer to the entrances, he realized no signs were on or above them. He could spot people walking around, but the crowd pushing in and out made it difficult to tell what was happening. A big part of him wanted to choose randomly and check what was inside, but the rest of him was worried he would accidentally walk in somewhere he wasn¡¯t invited. So he strode along, passing all the doors, surreptitiously peeking into the rooms, and eventually, he ran out of wall to scout. A convenient marble bench met him at the end of his journey, and he walked over to it. Just as he prepared to sit, a woman practically materialized out of nowhere. ¡°Sir, you¡¯re not allowed to sit there,¡± she declared, pointing at the sign that stated the same thing right above his head. His back shot upright instantly. ¡°Sorry, I am so sorry,¡± he apologized. ¡°I did not see that there, oh man.¡± The woman nodded at him and turned to leave, but he grabbed the chance to get some information. ¡°Hey, uhm¡­¡± he called. She turned around with a blank expression. He hurried to explain himself. ¡°I will be honest with you. I¡¯m completely clueless about where to go. Do you mind pointing me in a direction?¡± The woman smiled pleasantly and pointed at the wall with the unmarked entrances. ¡°The doors.¡± With that, she turned around and left. ¡­ Well¡­ thanks for nothing, I guess. He took a deep breath and decided to wing it. The first door from the left it was. The moment he walked through, he spotted a line of over ten receptionists to his left and more doors along all the other walls in the room. Eventually, he made his way over to a male receptionist. ¡°Hello!¡± he greeted the man. ¡°I am here to either sell or trade a prime vestige.¡± The man pointed behind him, over to the wall to his right. ¡°Doors 14 to 37.¡± He nodded and walked over. He quickly glanced at the other doors, observing what appeared to be some form of hierarchy. Every door from ten to one grew increasingly fancier, and one looked like the entrance to some emperor¡¯s bedroom. However, those weren¡¯t his concern, and he turned back to the ones he was pointed to. The doors had a light above them; some were red, and others were green. Although he immediately assumed that green meant free and red meant occupied, he still asked a random passerby to make sure. The woman he asked stared at him like he was brain-dead. Still, she confirmed it. He took a deep breath and summarily walked into the first room with a green light above it. The instant he opened the door, a thick cloud of cigarette smoke, not unpleasant in smell, struck him, and he spotted a man sitting on a luxurious leather chair. The trader looked ageless, with sharp features and a scruffy beard on his face. He took a massive Cuban cigar out of his mouth, flicked the ash off into an ashtray, and then spoke in a rough, deep voice. ¡°Sit down, kid.¡± Without hesitation, he walked forward and sat in the shockingly comfortable chair. The man pointed at the glass box and gestured to him to hand it over. Rather than immediately give him the box, he clarified, ¡°I¡¯m here to sell or trade my vestige.¡± The man blinked slowly. ¡°No shit!¡± he yelled sarcastically. ¡°Give me the damn thing so I can see what it does!¡± He reluctantly relinquished the glass container, and the smoker immediately opened it. ¡°You bastards can lick my crack clean!¡± its resident spewed. ¡°Oh, shut up, you whiny thing. What¡¯s your talent?¡± he asked, blowing a large puff of smoke while waiting for the answer. ¡°Farming! Best farming! Supreme farming! Your crops do better!¡± The man looked at the vestige for a few seconds, then at him as if waiting for something. He seemed to realize there was nothing else to say, so he continued, ¡°Aight.¡± The man scoffed as he locked the box again, then turned to his client, who stared at the man expectantly for a few seconds. The man stared back and frowned. ¡°So, which will it be? Trade or sell?¡± ¡°Uh, I¡­ It¡¯s whatever, no, I mean, it¡¯s uhm¡ª¡± ¡°Stop yapping, kid, I don¡¯t have all day.¡± ¡°I-I mean, it¡¯s not whatever,¡± he said as he rushed to collect himself, ¡°but I am looking to get another prime regardless, so if you have any, I¡¯d love to do that, yes.¡± The trader scowled. ¡°So you wanna trade?¡± ¡°Uh, yes, I do want to do that, yes.¡± ¡°Whaddaya want?¡± ¡°I¡­ I didn¡¯t think of that, but something combat-oriented, sir¡­¡± ¡°Lovely.¡± The man bent over to check something in a drawer. ¡°How ¡¯bout I throw a few ideas at you, and you take a look?¡± ¡°That¡ªuhm¡­¡± he pondered. ¡°That¡­ suits me just fine.¡± The man nodded and pulled a massive box out of the drawer. He pulled one of the colorful balls out¡ªa gray, three-eyed vestige that spoke in a depressed tone, ¡°Hello, you guys¡­¡± ¡°What does that one do?¡± he asked. ¡°Why are you asking me?¡± the man said, pushing the gray ball at his face. ¡°Ask it.¡± ¡°Uh¡­ What do you do?¡± ¡°Nothing much, really,¡± it answered his question. ¡°I spend my days in boredom.¡± ¡°No, I mean,¡± he said as he rushed to correct himself. ¡°What power do you hold?¡± ¡°A rat tail. A tail, like that of a rat¡­ I know, not really cool¡­¡± His stomach sank. ¡°Uhm¡­¡± He glanced at the man. ¡°Sorry if this seems rude, but not even the prime itself thinks the talent is all that good.¡± ¡°And your vestige is rather enthusiastic,¡± the man said with a sly smile. ¡°Not much of an opinion, now, is it?¡± ¡°Fair enough, but this is still¡­ If you plan to offer me stuff like this, I¡¯d prefer to keep my own.¡± He looked at the man, this time with a lot less trepidation. It was clear that this man considered him a sucker, and it wasn¡¯t a surprise why. As soon as he calmed down and thought about it, he realized he didn¡¯t have to rush to sell it immediately. The man put the ball away and pulled out another, but as Freddy got off the chair and started walking out of the room, the man spoke, ¡°Kid, wait a minute, where are you goin¡¯? That was only the first offer.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve¡­¡± he started with a half-turn. ¡°I will go get the vestige appraised first.¡± The man blankly stared at him for a moment, and then he burst out laughing, coughing his lungs out. He was taken aback. ¡°What¡¯s so funny?¡± he asked. ¡°Kid, do you have any damn idea how expensive proper appraisals are?¡± the trader asked him and then turned serious. ¡°At the lowest, you¡¯ll pay the full value of a cheap prime for one, and without the proper contacts, you will wait as long as six months to get it.¡± Hesitating, he turned around and looked at the man seriously. ¡°I know it must be funny to you, sir, but with all due respect, I would like you to take this seriously.¡± ¡°What the hell do you mean, brat?¡± That made him hesitate again, but something boiled over as he raised his tone a bit above what he wanted to. ¡°Rat tail!? Seriously!?¡± ¡°What¡¯s wrong with that?¡± ¡°Do you take me for an idiot?¡± ¡°Yes, I do,¡± the man said, smiling smugly. ¡°And your idiotic behavior doesn¡¯t convince me otherwise.¡± That sent a chill down his spine as he realized who he had been yelling at. ¡°I¡¯m¡ªI¡¯m sorry, sir¡­¡± ¡°Bah!¡± he spat, frowning. ¡°You were almost manly, kid. Don¡¯t ruin it by pussying out!¡± ¡°I¡­ What?¡± ¡°Sit the fuck down again.¡± Despite quite a bit of hesitation, he eventually forced himself to walk back to the chair, where he sat down. The man sighed and gave him a long, hard look. ¡°Tell me, were you involved with the break last night?¡± Freddy¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°How did you know?¡± ¡°Oh, I don¡¯t know,¡± the man mused sarcastically. ¡°A poor clueless kid comes in with a prime, acting like a cautious, beaten dog the day after it happened. That¡¯s just a coincidence, no?¡± the man asked rhetorically, shaking his head. ¡°You do know that encounters with monsters can significantly increase the odds of manifesting a prime, right?¡± the man asked. He knew that was a thing but had never heard specific numbers. It definitely wasn¡¯t guaranteed, however. If it were, bringing mortals to fight weaker monsters and generating infinite primes would be trivial to some¡­ less human-rights-oriented individuals. The trader squinted at him. ¡°Also, I¡¯m not sure how aware of it you are, but you¡¯re acting a bit¡­ uh¡­¡± Rather than finishing the sentence, the man twirled a finger next to his head and whistled. Freddy winced at that. The man sighed. ¡°Have you seen a shrink yet?¡± ¡°No, I haven¡¯t, sir.¡± ¡°You shouldn¡¯t.¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°You shouldn¡¯t do it. Fuck ¡¯em.¡± ¡°Well, I mean, I can¡¯t afford one anyway¡­ but I¡­¡± He hesitated. ¡°If I, somehow, suddenly could afford one, why shouldn¡¯t I go?¡± The man leaned over the desk, pulling the cigarette out and putting it into an ashtray. ¡°Let me ask you something. Did you see anyone die?¡± He winced a bit, recalling several fresh corpses so readily that, for a moment, he felt as if he were right back when he first saw them. ¡°Yes¡­ sir.¡± ¡°Funny that, innit,¡± he said as he leaned back. ¡°Didn¡¯t you ask me for a combat-oriented power?¡± ¡°What are you trying to say?¡± he responded with a bit more edge to his voice than he thought there would be. The man grinned widely in turn. ¡°Go to a shrink. You know what they¡¯ll tell you?¡± The man leaned closer. ¡°They¡¯ll tell you that you should feel bad and sad and cry it out. That it¡¯s a-okay to whimper like a bitch and avoid conflict for the rest of your life,¡± he said with a scoff. ¡°And you¡¯re gonna fucking believe it.¡± The trader leaned back. ¡°Screw that. You made the right choice. Man the fuck up and get ready to see more.¡± Those words left him stumped. That wasn¡¯t why he had chosen to go with a combat-oriented talent. He just wanted to be independent, to be free. With a farming talent, he¡¯d be a farmer. Forever. Until the day he died. Perhaps he could be his own boss one day, sure, but if someone wanted to forcefully extract a few favors from him, he¡¯d be powerless to defend himself. Screw that. His lifelong dream had always been to become an archhuman. Because he wanted to have the power to live on his own terms¡ªand not kiss the bottom of someone¡¯s shoe. Thoughts whirled in his head, but before he could respond, the man pointed at the glass box holding his prime again. ¡°You realize we haven¡¯t even asked your thing what its affinities are, right?¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry?¡± he asked dumbly. ¡°Wait, it can tell you that!?¡± The man sighed and slumped a bit. ¡°Boy, you should at least try to hide it if you¡¯re that clueless.¡± Yet again, before he could respond, the man grabbed the glass box out of his hands and opened it again, releasing the screaming green ball. ¡°What affinities do you have?¡± Once it finally stopped hollering, it answered, ¡°Earth, naturally! And water, naturally! And nature, naturally! Naturally,¡± it said, promptly returning to screaming again. The man whistled, locked the prime back up, and sank into his chair. ¡°Well, I¡¯ll be damned. Three affinities. That¡¯s a rare find.¡± Those words sounded like money, but rather than rejoice, he was offended. ¡°So you really were trying to scam me earlier!¡± ¡°Damn straight!¡± the man declared unapologetically, slamming an open palm on the table. ¡°I¡¯m here to earn money, boy, not do charity.¡± And then, with a smile, he continued, ¡°I¡¯ll be honest with you, kid. In this business, being the first trader people like you talk to effectively means you¡¯re either getting everything or aren¡¯t getting shit. You can tell why, no?¡± Indeed. He wanted to get up and leave to get a second opinion. ¡°So here¡¯s how it¡¯ll be,¡± the trader said as he adopted a more formal tone. ¡°This is decent. It does come with the downside of having a highly restrictive non-combat talent, which will impact the price considerably. But! Fighting isn¡¯t for everyone, and a triple-affinity is very desirable.¡± ¡°And that means¡­?¡± ¡°If it were a combat talent, you¡¯d be rich,¡± he clarified. ¡°But it ain¡¯t, so you aren¡¯t. Still, it¡¯s good stuff.¡± ¡°I might want to hear a second opinion on that.¡± The man frowned and waved a hand. ¡°Go then, get scammed somewhere else. You won¡¯t get a better deal anywhere you go. How about this? I¡¯ll give you a special offer.¡± The man straightened his back, shedding the snark and switching to pure business. ¡°If, and only if, you sell me this prime right now, I will offer you three things!¡± The trader raised three fingers. ¡°First, I will give you a prime of decent value, and I will give you the one I believe is best-suited for you. Second, I will provide you with twenty-five thousand dollars in cash. And third, I will pay the consulting fee in your stead and recommend you for an immediate appointment, allowing you to skip days, or even weeks, of waiting.¡± He wanted to know what prime he would be offered and what consulting meant, but there was a more important thing to discuss first. ¡°Fifty thousand dollars.¡± With a grin, the man retorted. ¡°Twenty-six.¡± ¡°Come on, that¡¯s too small an increase. I¡¯m sticking with fifty.¡± ¡°Sticking it up your ass, hopefully. I ain¡¯t taking that,¡± the man refused. ¡°Fine¡­ You know we will meet at forty, so let¡¯s skip straight to it.¡± The man smirked. ¡°Thirty is the most I can give you.¡± With a somewhat fake frown, mostly there to conceal a grin, Freddy agreed, ¡°Sold. Well, not on the whole deal, but I¡¯m happy with the amount.¡± The man scoffed and shook his head. ¡°So, the prime¡­¡± ¡°Can I just ask what you mean by consulting?¡± ¡°A guy will look at the prime I give you and advise you on handling the power or approaching your growth at first.¡± ¡°Ah¡­ I see.¡± That sounded pretty good. He didn¡¯t know whether this was a good deal, but that was precisely the point. He didn¡¯t know anything. In every way, he was oblivious about ascending and what he should do. And worst of all, he had no real way to find out. At least not for free. Everyone would try to scam him, just as the man had said, but at least he would get some money here, and he was pretty aware of its value. And on top of that, he would get some information, which he needed more than anything. Rather than open the box on the table, the man got up and walked to a seemingly blank wall. He tapped random empty spots, and an outline appeared, soon revealing itself as a seam to a drawer that slid open. The man pulled an object out, bringing it to the table. Freddy swallowed. It was another box, but rather than being transparent, it was entirely black. With one finger on the hatch, the man opened the box and pulled out a red prime. This one seemed to be solemn and calm, keeping its eyes closed. ¡°Go ahead, kid,¡± the trader urged him. ¡°Ask it what its power is.¡± Freddy gulped. He felt even more anxious about asking this time than when he asked the one he had manifested. After a few seconds of silence, he finally opened his mouth. ¡°Tell me, vestige¡­ ¡°What power do you hold?¡± Chapter 4 - Hundred Part Harm Ye Bring Unto Thine Enemy… Immediate appointment, my ass, Freddy thought with more than a slight hint of bitterness. For over two hours already, he had been waiting in line. It was finally down to only two people; then, it would be his turn. Raising the glass box, he observed the red prime within, its eyes closed and mouth shut. The cryptic words it had uttered still echoed in his mind. Hundred-part harm ye bring unto thine enemy, one part ye shall recover. Honestly, he hadn¡¯t fully understood what the power was until the trader had told him. The talent it held was 1% Lifesteal. And it had a water affinity. While the trader was adamant that this was a great power, he had refused the offer almost immediately. Heal for a measly 1 percent of the damage done and have just a single affinity; water, at that? He¡¯d rather have the rat tail. The trader put the prime away and pulled several others out. It was only after seeing the other offers that Freddy changed his mind. The trader was willing to part with some seriously valuable stuff; primes even Freddy could tell were worth a pretty penny. Yet he insisted that this would be best for him. And, after he finally allowed the man to elaborate, it made a lot of sense. It was the perfect power for someone starting poor and without backing. Well, not perfect. Ideally, he would get something overpowered, but as far as budget talents went, if the man was to be believed, this was a damn good one. Healing was expensive. A talent like this was perfect for curbing that cost. While he was more than glad to entertain dreams of fame and vast wealth, the death rate and early retirement numbers for archhumans without a background were staggeringly high. Not to mention that even mortal medical treatment was soul-wrenchingly expensive at times, let alone the services of a specialized healer. It also presented a rather attractive future prospect. As he went up the ranks, he was excited to discover what types of evolutions it would undergo. Would he become like an immortal vampire? An unkillable berserker that could face down an army, completely disregarding any injuries he received, merely crushing his enemies to stay in top shape? Yeah, probably not. But dreams were good. And his heart was filled with hope. Not much later, it was finally his turn. When he entered, a tall, tan man with long hair tied into a ponytail practically jumped him, shaking his hand and patting his shoulder. ¡°What¡¯s up, my man!? Come on in, sit. You want something to drink?¡± ¡°Uh, hi, uhm¡­¡± His mind whirled, but there was only one real option to consider. ¡°I¡¯ll have coffee if you have any.¡± ¡°Sure thing, my dude, sit.¡± The man turned around and waved a hand over a crystal surface. Moments later, a cup of steaming hot coffee appeared on it. He was a little taken aback. Grabbing the cup, the man placed it right before him while he sat on the opposite side of the table. ¡°Sorry, please wait a minute, uhm¡­¡± His words trailed off as he looked at something on a portable screen. ¡°I¡¯m just gonna check something out,¡± ¡°Sure thing¡­¡± As long as it doesn¡¯t cut my consulting short, he added inwardly. Putting the screen down with one final glance, the man turned to face him. ¡°So¡­ Let me see what you got.¡± ¡°Oh, uh, here you go,¡± he said as he handed the man the red ball. ¡°I like this one.¡± The man smiled as he eyed the stoic prime. ¡°Reminds me a bit of my grandpa,¡± he said with a cheerful chuckle. ¡°What¡¯s the talent and affinity?¡± ¡°It¡¯s uhm¡­ 1% Lifesteal and a water affinity.¡± The man looked impressed. ¡°Damn¡­ that¡¯s nice. Great, even. Especially if you¡¯re independent.¡± The moment the man said that, Freddy instantly sighed in relief. He had been deathly afraid that the trader had sold him some bullshit story. This at least confirmed that he got what he had been promised. ¡°Hang on a second¡­¡± The man turned to the screen again. He sipped the coffee while he waited¡­ and almost spat it out in shock. It was the tastiest thing he had ever put in his mouth, and nothing seemed to have been added to it. How expensive is this consulting if this is the coffee you get? he wondered. Geez¡­ Soon enough, the man looked back at him again, hesitantly taking his eyes off the screen. ¡°So¡­ The first thing I recommend is that you look into moving to a place with a massive body of water or something like a desert. The first will be good if you want to grow reliably, and the second will be wonderful if you want to get paid. The easiest place to delve would be a realm with maybe fire elementals, but I¡¯m not sure if you¡¯ll be able to find a spot in one. Now!¡± He turned around and pulled a box up on the desk, pulling out three white scrolls and what looked like a large textbook, and handed them to Freddy, who grabbed the neatly rolled-up, high-quality paper and marveled at the smooth feeling beneath his fingers. The scrolls were all sealed with inscribed tape. The man pointed at them. ¡°These babies right here,¡± he said as he hovered over the scrolls, ¡°all have ether imprints. You just have to look at them, and the abilities will be inscribed into your soul. The first is Frog Leap. That will be your example of using hydraulic pressure for mobility. Second, you have Flowing Rain Martial Arts. It comes with the Water Body tempering technique and Flowing Strike. ¡°The tempering technique is the generic one for water. Great for basic recovery, excellent for health, and can evolve into a great vitality booster. Unfortunately, you don¡¯t get the Flowing River tempering technique with the package. I can¡¯t choose your path for you, but I do recommend you get it if you stick to martial arts. ¡°Speaking of which, now we have Flowing Strike. It¡¯s excellent for using the momentum of water in your body in combat. Don¡¯t use it to hit anything at first, though, since you will burst your veins and capillaries. Use it on empty air until your body gets used to it. ¡°Third, this is the Squirt spell. Nothing special. It¡¯s just there for practice. It is a great example of how to both materialize water from essence and how to manipulate it. You shouldn¡¯t waste any more time on it than you need to. Use the way it feels as a guide to learn the basics of manipulating water, then make the Create Water spell on your own,¡± he said as he moved to the book. ¡°Finally, you have The Basics of Gathering, adjusted for water affinity. Read the whole thing.¡± He stared at the objects in shock. ¡°For¡­ For free?¡± ¡°What do you mean for free?¡± the man asked, almost insulted at the question. ¡°This comes with the consulting fee. Besides, this is all cheap stuff you can find anywhere.¡± Still¡­ this was priceless to him. Despite some lingering qualms with his chosen talent, he was starting to think this deal was better than he had thought. The man frowned suddenly. ¡°Now, about that talent¡­¡± Something about the way the man had said that made his skin crawl. Was there something wrong with it? The man continued, ¡°I recommend you experiment with it as much as possible. Healing powers are notoriously tricky.¡± ¡°In what way?¡± he asked, holding back the anxiety bubbling in his gut. ¡°Well, for starters, what does 1% Lifesteal even mean?¡± the man questioned with a frown. ¡°Can you tell me what it said its power was?¡± ¡°Of course, it was uh¡­¡± His mind froze as he tried to remember the exact words, but the man grabbed the vestige and asked it himself. Once the vestige repeated the same thing it had previously said, the man set it on the table and sat back with a deep frown. ¡°Is¡­ Is something wrong?¡± he asked cautiously. ¡°There is a lot to say, so I will sum it up as quickly as I can. First, what does enemy mean? Does that mean that it only allows healing from creatures you consider foes? Or is it things that consider you a foe? What about recover? Recover from what? Injuries? Do diseases or disorders count? What about scars? What about something like poison? Would it remove it from your body? What about cancer? Would it kill bacteria or viruses? Could it recover lost limbs?¡± ¡°What about the actual damage? One percent of what? Let¡¯s say you kill an opponent with a swift stab to their eye. Would it heal you the same amount as if you had destroyed the entire body? If so, would it do it instantaneously or gradually as the cells die? What about the harm thing? Could you set a forest on fire and heal for 1 percent of the damage that did to the creatures within? Would your opponent¡¯s bleeding count as damage you¡¯ve done if you¡¯re the one that inflicted the injury?¡± He sat there, dazed at the flurry of questions. How the hell was he supposed to know? Wasn¡¯t it the consultant¡¯s job to tell him this? The man could tell what he wanted to say based on his expression. ¡°These are all relatively basic characteristics of healing powers. There are different categories of healing quality, and depending on which you get, the quality of the final product could vary drastically. And even then, its quality could be unique and specific to your talent and not on the usual scale. I¡¯ve seen powers similar to this one before. They only end up being as useful as the technicalities allow them to be,¡± he stated. ¡°Hold on, let¡¯s try and puzzle it out a bit.¡± The man grabbed the prime and repeated the questions, rephrasing some of them several times. The prime either claimed it didn¡¯t know the answer, answered extremely cryptically, or simply remained silent. ¡°I see¡­¡± the man said as he handed the prime back. ¡°No offense, but I wondered why that old bastard gave you something this valuable and even added a bonus. I mean, it should be fine, but the exact details are a bit of a gamble. Just out of curiosity, what the hell did you sell him? You don¡¯t need to answer if you don¡¯t want to, of course.¡± ¡°I sold him another prime,¡± he answered, mind not fully focused on what he was saying. ¡°Uhm¡­ It had a farming talent and three affinities.¡± The consultant¡¯s jaw dropped, and soon, a smile popped on his face. ¡°You¡¯re kidding, right? That¡¯s a joke?¡± The uncertain look on his face was all he needed. ¡°Oh, man. Oh, boy. It wouldn¡¯t be this one, would it?¡± He dragged the screen before Freddy, who took a worried look at it. He wasn¡¯t sure what he was looking at initially, but he soon realized it was some sort of auction site. It took him several seconds to comprehend what he was looking at as the man pointed at the prime vestige he had just sold. It was at the very top of the list. ¡°Se-Se-Seve¡­! Seventy million dollars!?¡± he screamed as he pulled the tablet out of the man¡¯s hands and accidentally dropped it in shock. Thankfully, it didn¡¯t break, but that was the last concern on his mind. ¡°What!? How!? No, no, no¡­ this can¡¯t be real!¡± He got up and paced around the room, gripping his head. ¡°I¡¯m gonna sue him. I¡¯m gonna go sue him!¡± ¡°Sit down, man!¡± Stolen story; please report. ¡°No, I¡¯m gonna fucking kill him!¡± ¡°I said sit down!¡± the man yelled, and a strange power washed over him, sobering him instantly. He shakily sat down and looked like he had a thousand things to say, but before he could get anything out, the consultant gave him a stern look and spoke in an icy tone, ¡°Be careful with your words. You should be grateful.¡± ¡°Grateful¡­?¡± He breathed out. ¡°For¡­ For what!? He scammed me out of¡ª¡± ¡°He probably saved your life.¡± ¡°Saved¡­ What?¡± ¡°If you had known the value of that thing, you would have been dead by the end of the day. There is no way you could put it up for auction anonymously, and if the wrong person found out about what you had, they would take it and bury you before anyone knew what happened.¡± Those words didn¡¯t do much to assuage his anger. If anything, it only made him feel more pissed. ¡°Is there anything else you want to consult me on?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± the man barked. ¡°Keep your damn mouth shut. If you run around telling anyone you¡¯ve been ¡®scammed¡¯ by the association, you¡¯ll regret it,¡± he warned. ¡°They take accusations like that very seriously.¡± ¡°Figures. Give me my damn prime.¡± He grabbed the glass box somewhat violently and stuffed the scrolls into his pockets, rushing out of the office before the man could say anything else. Just as he was about to leave the building, he spotted the finely dressed gentleman who had given him the glass box. He pulled his vestige out and returned the box to the man, shooting him a sardonic smirk as he angrily marched past him. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t even get away with their life, would they?¡± With poisonous thoughts floating in his mind, he soon made it out of the courtyard and onto the open streets of the 25th district. *** He locked the doors to his apartment, put the prime and scrolls in the chest, and dropped to his bed, exhausted. It was already getting dark outside, and he groaned at the time he had wasted getting home. The money had been sent directly to his bank account, or, at least, he hoped it had, but he still had to carry the prime and scrolls by himself. He was rather scared that someone had seen him carrying the prime earlier today, so he avoided leaving through the same gate he had entered through. A few other paranoid detours later, he finally made it back. Throughout the entire way home, he boiled in rage at what had happened, and by now, he was thoroughly exhausted. His entire body hurt from the tension, stress, and yesterday¡¯s events. The top of his head hurt from when he hit it on the ceiling this morning. Only when he almost passed out did he realize that he hadn¡¯t eaten anything for over a day. He was thirsty as hell, too. Grabbing a bottle from his fridge, he drank the entire thing and entered the hallway to refill it. The toilet was empty, thankfully, and he was back in his apartment within a minute. As he sat on his bed again, his mind whirled with thoughts. What should he do now? He hadn¡¯t expected to become an arch for years, even decades. Despite the eight years Freddy had spent working, all he had saved up was a little over $19,000. One couldn¡¯t even dream of buying a vestige without at least a hundred, and even then, saving for a more valuable one was wise. Well, unless one wanted a rat tail. That made him angry. When he should be happy at what he had achieved today, he felt¡­ dirty. Exploited. Years of backbreaking work, poor living conditions, shit food, zero life¡ªand it suddenly didn¡¯t even matter anymore. A little bit of dumb luck, and here he was. Emotions clashed, and he found his thoughts spiraling into a dark abyss. Before they could sink deep enough, he lightly slapped himself on the cheek and got up. ¡°Thinking about this crap while hungry is bad.¡± So he decided to go to a store and buy something to eat. On his way out of the building, however, he paused. He didn¡¯t¡­ really have to save money anymore, did he? Rather than leave the building and go buy poverty slop, he turned to the contact device. But before walking over to it, he returned up the stairs. He knocked on one of the apartments, and he could hear James¡¯s voice from within, ¡°Coming!¡± Soon enough, the chubby middle-aged man walked out, and his eyes shot wide open when he spotted him. ¡°Freddy!?¡± he called out, as if he could barely believe who was standing before him. ¡°I-I heard the news! Holy crapperoni, you¡¯re damn lucky to be alive!¡± ¡°Yeah¡­ it was¡­ Hey, uhm, I¡¯m really sorry about what happened yesterday,¡± he apologized, remembering the rude way he had treated the man and his companion. ¡°I want to make it up to you.¡± ¡°You¡¯re what!?¡± James shouted. ¡°Freddy, you¡¯re out of your damn mind!¡± The man walked up to him and pulled him into a tight hug. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have been nearly as composed as you were!¡± ¡°Still¡­¡± He gently pushed him back. ¡°I was thinking¡­ if you wanted to have dinner together.¡± ¡°Dinner? I was just about to make something we could eat at my¡­¡± ¡°No,¡± he interrupted, ¡°let¡¯s order something.¡± The man paused at that. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ Not to sound like a cheapskate, but¡ª¡± ¡°My treat.¡± James frowned and spat, ¡°No¡­! I couldn¡¯t¡­¡± ¡°James. It¡¯s been¡­ Let¡¯s just say money isn¡¯t a problem for me right now.¡± That earned him a shocked look from the man, and after a bit more convincing, James finally agreed. *** ¡°Sorry for the wait!¡± Freddy entered Sharon¡¯s apartment, seeing her and James sitting at the table. Both his and the other man¡¯s apartments were too small for guests, so Sharon offered hers instead. Despite being the largest, it still wasn¡¯t all that big. It barely had space for the table. He had just returned from sending a message to a local restaurant with their order, and soon, their food should be delivered. Once he sat down with them, they silently waited for a few moments. Eventually, James gathered up the courage to ask, ¡°Can you¡­ Can you tell us what happened?¡± He wasn¡¯t averse to sharing, but. ¡°Yeah, uhm, you know, how about we eat first?¡± They nodded and decided to talk about something else instead. Every subject they brought up felt forced, and conversations died quickly. James talked a bit about his brother and work, while Sharon discussed some recent politics he knew about but didn¡¯t care much about. Then, finally, knocking could be heard from the door. He got up to get the food and paid the delivery woman in cash, and soon, the three of them were eating some incredible barbecue pork. Nobody asked about the price, but it was clear that it wasn¡¯t cheap. It took great effort for him to hold himself back from moaning at the fantastic meal. It had been years since he¡¯d last had something this delicious. All the stress, worries, and bitterness washed away with each new bite he took. Sharon pulled a bottle of wine from a cupboard, apologizing for the low quality. To him, who had never tried alcohol, it tasted terrible and likely would regardless of how pricey it was. Once they had eaten, a few moments of casual conversation transpired. After a brief visit to the toilet that he also used to check on his apartment, he finally readied himself to retell the story. There was no anxiety. Surprisingly, he didn¡¯t feel afraid to share it, and soon enough, it was as if he was retelling some funny anecdote. Naturally, things turned serious whenever the subject got dark, but that lasted only for a few moments. In the safety of their company, it just seemed so funny. How he mistook the passage for a bright room, killed a monster with a can of beans, the interrogation, the insurance¡ªall of it. There was no way to retell it but through laughter. There was no other way he could. Ending the story at his meeting with them in the hallway, where he again felt that how they reacted was funny, especially James¡¯s reaction, he took another sip of wine. It didn¡¯t go down easy, but his frown softened as the previously ingested alcohol kicked in. Suddenly, James frowned and looked at him, mouth hanging wide open. ¡°Freddy!¡± ¡°Wha¡ª¡± he tried to ask but was interrupted by a hiccup. ¡°You said money wasn¡¯t a problem!¡± James reminded with a deep frown. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re cutting into your savings?¡± Sharon turned to him as well. ¡°Yeah! I thought you got paid by insurance!¡± ¡°No, actually¡­¡± he started, pausing dramatically for the reveal. He leaned closer, remembering that his prime was alone in his apartment and making sure to whisper so that nobody would overhear their conversation. ¡°This morning, I manifested a prime vestige.¡± Dead silence. It took a while for them to recover from the shock, but as they did, they both got up to shake his hand and congratulate him. As they sat back down, James asked in a hushed whisper, ¡°Tell us more! What is it!?¡± ¡°It was a non-combat one,¡± he said, ¡°with a farming talent.¡± A slight hint of hesitation flashed on their faces, but they forced it away. Sharon coughed. ¡°You should try to sell it and see what they¡¯re willing to offer! If you get enough money, you can pay for education and get a better job! With that, you could one day afford a better one if you don¡¯t want that one!¡± James added, ¡°Yeah! But hey, that one might not be bad either! Everyone has to eat! Besides, who knows what kind of mystical plants you could farm!¡± Putting the glass down after another sip, he clarified. ¡°Actually, uhm¡­ I already traded it.¡± They glanced at each other. James was the first to ask, ¡°Well, what did you get!?¡± ¡°I got a prime with an¡­ interesting talent, really¡±, he chuckled. ¡°1% Lifesteal. Heal for a part of the damage I inflict.¡± ¡°Freddy¡­ that¡¯s¡­¡± Sharon asked, mouth hanging open. ¡°A combat talent, yeah,¡± he confirmed what she left unsaid. ¡°Are you insane?¡± she asked sternly. ¡°No¡­¡± he denied with a frown. ¡°Why would I be?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know how you afforded the difference,¡± she spat, ¡°but you should immediately trade it for a non-combat one!¡± ¡°I don¡¯t wanna do that,¡± he rejected with a frown. James piped up, ¡°Man, please don¡¯t take this the wrong way, but¡­ you¡¯re damn lucky to be alive. You¡¯ve gone through something like that and still haven¡¯t learned your lesson!?¡± ¡°And what lesson am I supposed to learn?¡± he asked pointedly. Sharon yelled, ¡°It¡¯s dangerous!¡± James turned to her and grabbed her shoulder to try and calm her down, but she continued, ¡°I lost a father and an uncle to stupid dreams of being a warrior. Our entire family¡¯s savings were gone, and we couldn¡¯t even get their bodies back!¡± she screamed, tears running down her eyes. ¡°Don¡¯t be an idiot!¡± ¡°I¡¯m not a fucking idiot!¡± he yelled back, and they both backed away, looking shocked. ¡°Feel free to advise me, but I won¡¯t sit here and be insulted.¡± James adopted a sympathetic expression and spoke softly. ¡°Freddy¡­ don¡¯t take this as an offense, but you have no life.¡± He scowled at that one. ¡°Pfft! Okay, wow! No offense taken, dude, geez.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t mean that in a bad way,¡± the man said. ¡°Your childhood was taken from you, and¡­ I don¡¯t think you have the right perspective on life, yet you¡¯re¡­ you¡¯re rushing to throw it away.¡± He rolled his eyes at that. ¡°And what perspective do you have, huh?¡± ¡°Freddy, I¡­¡± ¡°You¡¯re both over twice my age,¡± he pointed out, ¡°yet you¡¯re renting a place in a shitty complex, in a run-down district, close to nothing to your name, and without any sign anything will change! Ever!¡± he accused, then continued sarcastically, ¡°No offense, James, but you¡¯re a loser! But hey, don¡¯t get offended, there, now!¡± Sharon spoke up. ¡°Freddy, don¡¯t be like¡ª¡± ¡°Don¡¯t be like what?¡± he asked and then took another sip of the wine. ¡°I know you both believe you¡¯re trying to help me, and obviously, I can¡¯t see things from your perspective. But you can¡¯t see things from mine either.¡± His voice grew shakier. ¡°I don¡¯t want to keep being a goddamn slave! A life of killing myself for someone else¡¯s interest isn¡¯t for me! And, okay, yeah, I get it. I might die. But if I don¡¯t fight for the life I want, I¡­ I¡­ Then what am I even living for?¡± And with that, he got up and headed to the door. Their conversation had gotten rather heated, and they hadn¡¯t been watching their tone. He wanted to hurry back and use the prime. James yelled, ¡°Freddy, wait!¡± He paused at the door, and the middle-aged man continued, ¡°Please think this through¡­ You still have time¡­¡± Letting go of the knob, he turned around. ¡°I¡­ I said some things I didn¡¯t really mean. I¡¯m a bit drunk, and I¡¯ve never had alcohol before¡­¡± He chuckled lethargically. ¡°Freddy¡­¡± ¡°You¡¯re right, James,¡± he said. ¡°You¡¯re right. I really don¡¯t have a life. I should have been out somewhere, drinking for the first time with friends and maybe even a lover¡­ I¡¯m sure I could have that by having a better job. But I also want to have meaning. ¡°I don¡¯t want to wake up every day to do the same thing. You can¡¯t change your talent, James. Once you take one, you¡¯re stuck. Being trapped doing something you hate without a way to set yourself free¡­ That¡­ I¡¯ll fucking kill myself if I have to go through that again.¡± He wanted that to sound like a joke. It didn¡¯t. Reluctantly, the two slowly nodded, and Sharon said, ¡°Good luck, then.¡± James added, ¡°Good¡­ Good luck, Fred.¡± ¡°Thank you.¡± And with that, he hurriedly left the apartment. *** His window was open to air out the stink, and it let in the glow of the city below, faintly illuminating his uncovered figure as he lay on the bed. Freddy held the red orb and stared into its closed eyes. ¡°Tell me, vestige¡­¡± Am I making the right choice? Said or unsaid, there was no answer to be had from the stoic ball. There was no answer to be had from anyone. He felt bitter, regretful, and just¡­ sad. And to think I went there to apologize¡­ he thought, wanting to chuckle at the irony, but all that left his lungs was a slight exhale. The idea to return and say sorry again floated in his mind, but he ignored it. He had already told them what needed to be said. So, rather unceremoniously, he started the process of becoming an archhuman. He quickly realized he had no damn clue how to do it. So he tried the first thing that came to mind. ¡°I wish to accept your power into my soul,¡± he said. Nothing happened. For a few moments, the red face remained still. Until. ¡°As you wish.¡± It opened its yellow, glowing eyes that held infinite aggression within¡ªa filthy desire weighing the price of life¡ªmuted by the calm surface of a lake. The prime vestige glowed and began turning into a faint, red mist that seeped into every pore on his body, settling somewhere deep within. Once the last wisp of energy was gone, he shivered and let out the breath he had been holding. ¡°Well, that was creepy as hell.¡± Not much else would happen for the time being. So he got up, picked up the toothbrush, and went to the toilet. It was empty. He brushed his teeth in peace and returned. Then he changed into his pajamas, closed the window, and lay in bed. It was cold without his sheets, so he curled up into a fetal position. The pillow was filthy, and its touch made his face itch. An intense headache set in, and he hugged his knees for a semblance of comfort. They provided none. The miscellaneous aches all over his body echoed with the shivers¡ª As he cried himself to sleep. Chapter 5 - Turning The Page The cold¡­ The smell¡­ Ugh¡­ The word headache wasn¡¯t enough to fully encapsulate the headagony Freddy felt as he woke up. Sparse light peered through his shades the same way it did every morning, and his hand reached for the headgear. But something was strange. The sound that usually tormented him was missing, and¡ª Wait¡­ Where¡¯s my¡ª ¡°Oh fuck!¡± he yelled as he jumped up into a seated position. ¡°Oh fuck, oh shit, oh God!¡± The alarm was on the ground! How could he forget to put it on!? Rushing to get out of bed, he got up, eyes darting around the room, looking for his uniform. ¡°My clothe¡ª¡± He sucked air through his teeth as he remembered where they were. No wonder his room smelled like an abandoned morgue. Rushing over to his dainty trashcan and hesitating as he reached to move it out of the way, Freddy revealed the pile of bloody cloth that had once been his work uniform. ¡°Oh man,¡± he groaned with a half-disgusted, half-panicked expression. ¡°What time is it anyway? No, what day is it!? Thursday?¡± he questioned with his eyes narrowed. ¡°Friday? It¡¯s Friday, shit!¡± The locks on his door were pushed out of the way as he peeked into the hallway. There was a crowd of people waiting to get into the toilet, but he ignored them as he checked the clock above. 9:31 a.m. ¡°Why!?¡± If he had already overslept so long, couldn¡¯t he at least feel somewhat good? Why didn¡¯t he¡­? Why¡­? The realization struck him rather abruptly, and the rush he felt disappeared. He closed the door. Without thinking about it, he moved over to the window and opened it, then sat on his bed and looked at his hand, mesmerized. He hadn¡¯t said anything about being late today, so there would be hell to reap when he faced his manager. There was also a pile of bloody, rancid clothing sitting behind his trashcan that he had to do something about. And he was an arch. He was an arch. Freddy Stern¡ªan archhuman. The vividness of the last few days conversely served to dissuade him from the fact that it was all real. The same brain mechanisms that prevented him from blending the fictional shows he saw on the BC at work with reality now worked to prevent him from coming to terms with it. There was one way to undeniably prove it. His hand hovered, shakily floating toward the lid on his chest, and as he touched it, he couldn¡¯t pull it open since it was locked. With a deep breath, he gathered up the courage to get up. Grabbing the key he had hidden beneath a cracked floorboard under his bed, he put it into the lock, and with one, then two turns, he unlocked it. His fingers rested on the lid again, and while anxiously biting his lips, he pulled it up. The scrolls he had received still sat precisely where he had placed them. Although the feeling of anxiety subsided, there was no sigh of relief. ¡°I see,¡± he whispered. ¡°I guess I¡¯m an arch now.¡± Good that it was real, but that was nothing to get too excited about. Not yet, at least. Several responsibilities and tasks hung over his head, and there was some serious adult decision-making to do. The crowd outside made it clear that he wouldn¡¯t be getting a turn in the toilet any time soon, so he had no choice but to go without. He¡¯d wash up at work a bit if need be. Pinching the unbloodied corners of the clothes behind the trash can, he threw them into the bin, and after he got dressed into his other, barely-cleaner outfit, he took the bag of trash with him as he left the apartment and locked the door. It was time to go to work, he supposed. Once he left the building, he threw the bag into the nearest dumpster and began his walk. What was likely a combination of the smack he received to his head yesterday, horrid sleep quality, freezing to death, huffing stink fumes all night, and a nasty hangover gave him such a nasty headache that it made him almost forget about all the other pains scattered throughout his body¡ªof which there were many. His legs still hurt, and he felt like his shoulders had nails driven into them, while his stomach, neck, and ass muscles felt tense and inflamed. Habit took charge, and he trod his usual daily route. ¡°Oh, fucking great!¡± The Bastard Barricade, or rather, the stupid fence that blocked his path, once again appeared before him. But this time, things were different. Freddy¡ªthe archhuman¡ªsquared his shoulders and confidently approached the man standing guard. ¡°I have to go through,¡± he declared imperiously. ¡°State your reason or provide verification, please,¡± the man responded in a practiced tone. ¡°I have to get to the other side.¡± He winced at his own words. What was he, a chicken? ¡°Please provide verification, sir,¡± the guard demanded again. What¡¯s happening? he wondered internally. Can¡¯t he sense my power of whatever? Given that the man didn¡¯t even show the slightest hint of respect toward him, he either couldn¡¯t sense anything or just didn¡¯t care. Well, it wasn¡¯t like he could sense anything off about the man, either. He knew that archhumans were meant to have this presence, and he had felt it himself. But that was only the case for those at the second star. And he was at the absolute start of his first. With a frustrated sigh, he looked up at the man. ¡°You know what?¡± The urge to chew the man out nibbled at the back of his throat for a good moment. But. ¡°Have a good day,¡± was all he said. He was already late for work. What harm was there in taking his time? So, as he bid his goodbyes, he turned around and started his trek around the private district. This time, he took the long way around. *** Jason, Freddy¡¯s manager and long-time acquaintance, breathed out as he finished hearing the summarized justification for his employee¡¯s absence. ¡°That¡¯s rough,¡± he said. ¡°Are you sure you¡¯re all right?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± he confirmed. ¡°I¡¯m okay.¡± He had told him about his involvement in the passage break, leaving the part about becoming an archhuman unspoken. He wanted to brag, but he had no way to prove it for the time being. If anything, it could needlessly complicate his work relationship. Until he got the hang of everything, he¡¯d prefer having the security of a job. ¡°Well¡­¡± The man looked at his cluttered desktop and pulled a paper from the messy pile. ¡°Naturally, nobody could ask you to work a day after going through something like that¡±¡ªhe handed the paper to Freddy¡ª¡°but today is different. Your message said nothing about an absence, and I had to fill in for you for the past few hours.¡± Freddy glanced at the warning paper detailing his transgression and penalty. Before he could even read it, his manager transcribed its contents. ¡°You¡¯ll be filling in half a shift in storage tonight,¡± he said with a slight glint of satisfaction in his eyes. ¡°And I¡¯ll be deducting the destroyed uniform from your paycheck.¡± The headache he felt grew more intense, and his grip on the paper tightened, creasing it. ¡°Go. Get up,¡± the manager rushed him as he got up and headed out of the room, but not before adding, ¡°Get a new uniform first.¡± Then he left the room and closed the door. As he stared at the paper, he felt something inside him shatter. He reread the contents, scanning over the words. Punishment¡­ huh? Several minutes passed, and finally, the door opened again as the manager walked in, finding Freddy sitting in the same place he had left him. ¡°What are you doing!? Get up!¡± With slow, measured movements, he crumpled the paper in his hands and threw it at the garbage can in the corner. He missed, and the ball clattered to the ground. ¡°What are you¡ª¡± the man tried to ask, but¡ª ¡°I¡¯m leaving,¡± he said as he got off the chair and walked past the manager, bumping into him in the process. ¡°Leaving!?¡± the man squealed as he ran in front of Freddy. ¡°What kind of behavior is this? Do you think you¡¯re tough stuff for surviving a break!? I¡¯ll seriously fire you if you don¡¯t stop fucking around!¡± he shouted with a stern glare. ¡°You¡¯ll fire me¡­?¡± he asked the man, stopping at those words. ¡°All right, then. I apologize. I¡¯ve been a little out of it. I¡¯ll get to work in a second.¡± If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. The manager wanted to add more to his warnings but was too busy to dish them out. With a venomous glare foreshadowing further critique, the man walked away, and Freddy headed to the back room to change. Soon enough, he was at the register. The headache threatened to split his head apart, and with every beat of his heart, a pulse of pain flashed through his forehead. A man walked over, slamming a large basket of items on the register. ¡°Hurry up, kid,¡± he urged. Just as he was about to grab the item, he paused, slowing down. Then, maintaining direct eye contact with the customer, the dutiful employee painstakingly slowly moved the articles over the scanner. The man-in-a-hurry kept trying to get him to speed up. But to no avail. Freddy took his sweet time, and once he was done, the customer angrily jogged away, apparently not having been bullshitting when he claimed to be in a rush. Before long, a woman walked over, carrying several cartfuls of items. Then, with a self-satisfied smile, she threw a collection of coupons down, acting as if she were revealing a strong hand in poker. Added together, they amounted to a roughly 90 percent discount on the purchase. Ignoring the fact that several had already expired, he faced the woman. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, ma¡¯am, but company policy prohibits the usage of several percentage-based coupons for a single purchase. It even states so on the coupons themselves.¡± ¡°Where does it say that!?¡± the woman asked with clearly fake outrage as she pointed at the coupons, showing that there was, indeed, no such clause¡ªbut there was a smudge as evidence for her attempt to remove it. Rather than arguing, he picked up the coupons, tore them to shreds, and threw the pieces into the garbage as he casually turned to the woman. She gaped. ¡°Why did you do that!?¡± ¡°Why did I do what?¡± he asked, his eyes sparkling innocently. ¡°You tore my coupons!¡± ¡°What coupons?¡± he asked again. ¡°This is outrageous!¡± she declared. ¡°I¡¯m going to sue this company! Take me to the manager!¡± ¡°I am the manager,¡± he declared without as much as a hint of humor. ¡°That¡¯s¡ª¡± she tried. ¡°You¡¯re lying!¡± ¡°Prove it,¡± he dared with a smile. The woman didn¡¯t know what to do, and faced with a crowd that eyed her in annoyance, she defaulted to evacuating the store, leaving the mountain of unpurchased items behind. A pile he couldn¡¯t be bothered to remove. As the day marched onward, the newly ascended arch found handling rude customers easier than ever. And with every straightforward solution applied, his headache got just a bit easier to handle. *** ¡°Mmmm, yup,¡± the manager concluded, nodding his head. ¡°You¡¯re fired. Get the hell out of my office.¡± ¡°Thank you, sir!¡± Freddy thanked the man with a beaming smile as he got up to leave. The manager scoffed. ¡°That¡¯s what you wanted, huh?¡± he asked sarcastically. ¡°Well, sorry to say it, but this isn¡¯t how it works. You don¡¯t get compensation for losing your job like this,¡± he told him. ¡°After all we did for you, this is how you pay us back? I¡¯m very disappointed in you, Freddy.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± he insisted as he turned around, his grin spreading wider. ¡°I got all the compensation I needed.¡± *** On the trek back home, Freddy¡¯s gait had a bounce to it. The air smelled fresher; the midday sun, whose powerful light he witnessed oh-so-rarely, shone even brighter than usual. He didn¡¯t even mind that he had to walk around the 25th district. Because, conveniently enough, the 24th district just happened to be where he had some chores to wrap up. *** Although paying the taxes made his soul want to evacuate his body, he couldn¡¯t help but grin at his bank statement. Available Balance: $42,812.13 This wasn¡¯t just forty-two thousand eight hundred and twelve point thirteen dollars, no, no, no. This meant far more than the number itself indicated. After all, all the money he had saved until this point had been because he wanted to become an arch. But given that he had already become one? He could do whatever the hell he wanted with it. Of course, he was in no rush to waste it, but¡­ this value hung in an awkward limbo. It wasn¡¯t enough to buy something like a house or an apartment unless he wanted a run-down shack, and it was far too much to quickly spend on daily necessities, especially given his frugal nature. There were plenty of things to buy, though. There was much to prepare. However, one more annoying chore waited for him, so he put that to the back of his mind as he focused on the task at hand. *** Back on the stairs leading up to his apartment, he munched on the cheap sandwich and glanced at the time on the clock in the hallway. 9:46 p.m. What he thought would be a minor chore turned out to be a humongulagungus pain in the ass. He lifted the trim card into the light as he glanced at it. It was his new ID. Besides the somewhat fancier color and the statement that he was a water-affinity arch, nothing was extraordinary about it. Although interestingly enough, nobody had asked him about his talent. It made sense, he supposed. The imperial government was hardly a unified, singular entity. Numerous political parties and organizations would prefer to keep the information of their members secret, including their involvement with said parties. But this did not mean that getting the ID had been an easy task. For him, it had been a monstrous undertaking. To his bewilderment, the first thing they had done when he came to register as an arch was call the fucking police! His impoverished background and lack of education apparently triggered several alarms, and they had to investigate where he got his prime from. So much for the aforementioned privacy; that was apparently a luxury one had to be born into. This had, naturally, obliterated any excitement he felt, and unfortunately, it wasn¡¯t the last thing that aimed to destroy his mood. Seven. Not one, two, three, four, five, or six, but seven different offices¡ªall quite the walk away from one another¡ªwere necessary visits to collect all the documentation. Thankfully, all the offices worked 24/7. Archhuman bureaucracy had at least some privileges, it seemed. Finally, with the herculean task out of the way, he was done with his immediate responsibilities. Or so he thought. The metallic, musty stink of rotting blood slammed his nose harder than a knee to the face when he opened the door to his apartment. ¡°Ugh, what the fuck!?¡± he yelled with a frown as he angrily stomped his foot on the ground. First, his room still stank. Second, he had no sheets on his bed. And third, everything was filthy. He pinched his brow and angrily blew air through his pursed lips. ¡°No can do,¡± he said. This was no environment to begin a new chapter of his life. Such things required a certain degree of ceremony, at least some pomp. How was he supposed to believe his life had changed if these were his living conditions? Yet again, he was back home dead tired, having eaten nothing but some cheap, filling crap, and was about to sleep like shit in a stinky, cold room. If he had had the resolve to quit his job, it was also time to properly set his shit straight. Although he felt exhausted, he slapped his face and squared his shoulders. Just a bit more, he thought. I¡¯ll do what I have to do now, and I will begin my new life tomorrow. Hopping down to the first floor, he entered the storage room that held the cleaning equipment. With a few brisk hops from the toilet to his room and back, he wiped the bloody patch and finished cleaning his floor, window, fridge, and other dusty surfaces. Leaving the window open to let the room air out, he exited his apartment, locking the door behind him. It wasn¡¯t long until he was bolting down the street. Soon enough, he reached the entrance to the 25th district. A different guard stood outside this time, and he simply showed him his ID, which was enough to let him pass through. Never had he felt happier walking down that route. Leaving on the other side was even more straightforward, and with a few turns, he had reached his destination. Charat Hypermarket, the sign said. Although he wasn¡¯t particularly enthusiastic about being back here, it was the closest store still open at this hour. With only a bit of hesitation, he walked inside. Not as an employee. But as a customer. *** Consensually spending money was a foreign concept to him. Looking at the cart of items, he felt his heart tighten in agony. After all, he was about to spend a hundred dollars¡ªon a single shopping trip! Wow! There wasn¡¯t anything fancy in the cart. Really, he was just buying new sheets, quite cheaply too, and some new clothes and shoes. Plus, the food he would have for lunch and dinner tomorrow. There wasn¡¯t much of a line he had to wait through, so before long, he was offloading his items at the cash register. ¡°Wait¡­ Freddy?¡± the night shift worker, his former colleague Jenny, asked him. With an awkward smile, he waved at her a bit. ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s yours truly¡­¡± he said with a chuckle. ¡°Hi.¡± She laughed a bit, but her smile quickly vanished. ¡°I, uh¡­ heard about earlier today¡­ Uhm¡­ Sorry about what happened,¡± she said. ¡°What?¡± he asked dumbly, somewhat confused by her words. ¡°Oh, no, no, haha, don¡¯t be sorry. That was¡­ Well, intentional.¡± ¡°No, I mean¡ª¡± she said hesitantly. ¡°I mean, that too, but about the¡­ you know. The¡­ break.¡± ¡°Oh!¡± he exclaimed. ¡°Oh, I get it! Yeah, no, don¡¯t worry about that either,¡± he comforted her with a chuckle. ¡°I made out of that one like a bandit.¡± ¡°You what!?¡± ¡°I what? No, I¡ª¡± He waved. ¡°Aaargh, no, I mean, Jesus! I didn¡¯t steal anything!¡± he clarified. ¡°No, but uh, I ended up manifesting a prime the morning after.¡± ¡°Oh,¡± she said as she offered to shake his hand in congratulations. ¡°Wow, that¡¯s amazing! Congratulations!¡± ¡°Thank you!¡± he thanked the woman as he clumsily accepted the handshake. She grabbed one of the shirts and put it through the scanner. ¡°So, what¡¯re you gonna do now?¡± Stunned speechless, he simply stared at the woman. He pondered the question. What was he going to do? That was a question that, by default, triggered a suffocating feeling of anxiety. Or, it used to. He scratched the back of his head, and his face morphed into the most genuine smile he had ever given anyone as he honestly answered, ¡°I have absolutely no idea.¡± *** 12:12, the clock said, marking the very beginning of a new day. As he had stopped to wash his newly purchased clothes at the 24/7 laundromat, he returned home quite a bit later than expected. But it was fine. It wasn¡¯t like he had a job to wake up to tomorrow. That thought alone left him satisfied to no end. Soon enough, he got ready for sleep, tucked himself into his new sheets, and prepared to wake up to a new chapter of his life. Sheets warm, obligations out of the way, financial problems, at least momentarily, resolved¡ªfinally, the last remnants of his headache withered away as he closed his eyes and fell asleep. *** ¡°I adore you, Master¡­¡± a deep, gurgly voice called. ¡°So why do you betray me like this? Bathe me again¡­ Bathe me again! Bathe me again!¡± ¡°Huwahaaba¡ª¡± Freddy jolted awake, staring around the room in panic but finding nobody there. ¡°Oh, for fuck¡¯s sake!¡± he shouted as he grabbed a handful of his loose hair. So much for waking up to the new chapter of his life in peace. But the fright of that nightmare didn¡¯t last long, as excitement rapidly overwhelmed it. He clapped his hands and rubbed them like a greedy goblin as he shifted toward the chest. He reached for the key, placed it into the keyhole, and turned, unlocking the lock and pushing the chest open¡­ Revealing the scrolls he had hidden inside. Chapter 6 - The Netherecho The vast fields were much quieter during the day than at night. Golden grass stretched into the horizons so far that it boggled the mind. Even his mighty perception could see little more than a yellow blur near the end of the distant horizons. There were monsters, too. Many hid in the tall growth, but plenty were soaring through the skies, be they ordinary animals or monsters with stars glowing in the depths of their souls. Airborne predators dipped into the yellow fields in search of prey, and grounded hunters leaped like fish out of the ocean, snatching those above in their giant maws filled with sharp teeth. A man stood there with his arms crossed behind his back and a frown seared permanently into his expression. He wore red robes accented with thick violet string, and his long, messy white hair partially covered his pale face, which was drawn in neat, red lines leading from his eyes and branching down his cheeks. His pale, ghoulish eyes shone with a piercing light. Standing confidently and eyeing the horizons, he pondered his discovery. After over a day of scouting, he had gathered enough evidence. A zero-step passage to realm C-000421 had appeared. This was merely one of many entrances to the horrid, perilous realm spanning the area of many earths, but it was the first to have appeared with a direct connection to New Earth. A sigh escaped his lips, but as it faded, like a depressed sun piercing through a pitch-black sky, a tentative non-frown appeared on his face. That was the closest to a pleased expression he had made in many years. Things were moving. There would be much conflict. But his clan was perfectly positioned to profit from the chaos that was to come. A sizable serpentine monster slithered nearby, carefully approaching his position. His wrists opened, and his blood formed jagged blades that rushed at the creature, tearing its body to shreds before it could react. Well then. It was time to share his discovery with those waiting for the update. The passage itself had already been reinforced with a heavy metallic door, and he simply put a thumb to a small surface to make it open. The instant the barrier rose, he met with the numerous messengers cramped into the tight alley, waiting to confirm the news. After a long, intentional pause, he merely nodded. The crowd almost instantly dispersed, the sounds of communication crystals buzzing to life and footsteps rushing to disclose the information to whomever had sent them here. With measured, unrushed steps, he walked over to a nearby tent. It occupied the entire street. The citizens had all been thoroughly compensated for the inconvenience, but at this point, the entire area had already been evacuated. The moment he pushed the cloth aside and entered the tent, he faced a bastard he didn¡¯t want to see. ¡°Janhalar, lovely to see you here!¡± greeted the cheerful man dressed in casual streetwear. He had jet-black hair and serpentine eyes as dark as the void itself. His clear, jovial, handsome face had light marks showing his tendency to force smiles upon his face. All the man got in return was a curt grunt and a spiteful glance. He deserved even less. ¡°Come on, bro,¡± the man said, rushing to get in front of him. ¡°Not even a hug!?¡± he asked with mock offense in his gaze, his snake-like eyes closing into menacing slits. There was no such thing as a leader of the 25th district. But this man was the closest thing it had to an owner. And it wasn¡¯t just the district. He was the lord of the entire city of Pittersville. As they were technically equal in the empire¡¯s hierarchy, dismissing him completely was entirely within Janhalar¡¯s rights, but he was in a relatively good mood today, so he would at least greet the man. ¡°Hello,¡± he said, and absolutely nothing else. After a short, stunned pause, the man broke into cheerful laughter. ¡°Oh, man, you¡¯re as talkative as the last time I met you,¡± he said, wiping a small tear from his eye. ¡°Why are you here?¡± Janhalar asked directly. The city lord seemed offended by that question. ¡°Am I not allowed to thank you in person for your favor?¡± ¡°If possible, yes,¡± Janhalar said. ¡°I¡¯d like to forbid you from doing so. I¡¯m here to receive my payment. I have no patience for your games.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t be like that, man!¡± he said with a small sigh of disappointment. Suddenly, his posture shifted. ¡°So¡­ you¡¯ve confirmed it?¡± Janhalar nodded, glad to finally get the business out of the way. ¡°Indeed.¡± The city lord simply shrugged in response. ¡°Well¡­¡± he started with a sly grin. ¡°I don¡¯t know about you, but,¡± he said, clearly pleased, ¡°I¡¯m feeling rather excited.¡± Janhalar nodded again. ¡°Ah, all right, all right,¡± the lord said. ¡°I can tell you¡¯re itching to see the goods. Let¡¯s go.¡± He moved out of the way, revealing the room full of objects, all neatly arranged in display cases. He glared at the man, observing him carefully for any cracks that might appear. The lord simply rolled his eyes. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, you grump. I didn¡¯t touch anything.¡± There was no way he would believe that. But if he had dared to so much as touch anything with his nasty fingers, he wouldn¡¯t be able to hide it. So he simply moved past the man and walked into the room. Everything was covered in dried blood, some items more than others. Clothes stripped from dead victims, lowly weapons, jewelry, or other miscellaneous objects used for self-defense¡ªthey all possessed a quality that couldn¡¯t be artificially replicated. They carried upon them blood spilled in tragedy and, more specifically, slaughter directly caused by the appearance of a passage. While he could tell from a glance that many of them radiated power, soaked in blood and wrath, a more direct look would give him a better view. So he closed his eyes. Instantly, they shot back open as he rushed toward a particular stand. Moments later, he held what appeared to be an ordinary plastic bag. A smelly, dried, brown substance was on it, and it wasn¡¯t blood. But what the object was or what it was covered in wasn¡¯t important. What he had seen in the Netherecho was. With an angry scowl, he turned around and spat, ¡°Harold!¡± The casually dressed man cocked his head. ¡°What¡¯s wrong? Ah, I saw that. Pretty crazy, that¡ª¡± ¡°Where is it!?¡± He rushed at the man, holding the torn bag like a lunatic. ¡°Did you think I wouldn¡¯t notice!?¡± ¡°Whoa there, calm down¡­¡± Harold said, eyes growing colder. ¡°We wouldn¡¯t be throwing any unfounded accusations around now, would we?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t give me that bullshit!¡± he screamed out. ¡°This is a catalyst! Of a unique vestige¡ªno¡­ a remnant!? And yet it isn¡¯t beside it in the Netherecho! How do you explain that!?¡± ¡°First of all¡­ I¡¯m gonna need you to show me some manners,¡± Harold said, his eyes squinting as a pulse of energy flickered through his leg and into the ground. Before Janhalar could react, it morphed into asphalt serpents that wrapped all around his body, baring their teeth at his throat. This wasn¡¯t enough to truly contain him, but if he recklessly tore it apart, he was sure that their conflict would escalate into a fight. The man wasn¡¯t weaker than him, and any further tantrums could cause the situation to escalate. He cursed his foolishness. But he wouldn¡¯t back down. However, before he could continue, Harold interrupted him, ¡°Just calm down, okay? If it¡¯s a unique, it could have used something as a vessel and escaped. It could have latched onto the victim¡¯s bloody clothes and only manifested later.¡± Janhalar held back a scoff. Such a thing was improbable, but¡­ it wasn¡¯t impossible. As he calmed down further, he realized that the man wouldn¡¯t do something as stupid as taking a unique when there was this much evidence that it had manifested. ¡°I understand¡­¡± he surrendered. He was no idiot. His rash behavior was a massive mistake. But with the appearance of this passage and the uproar that was to come¡­ if he could get his hands on the unique¡­ Harold removed the constraints, and Janhalar dusted his robes. The city lord walked over to the pedestal that had held the item and picked up the paper beside it. He scanned the contents. ¡°Freddy Stern¡­ blah, blah¡­ still alive. See? It probably hitched a ride on this man,¡± he said, putting the report into his pockets. ¡°If a unique has appeared, this dude could be in some deep shit. You wait here, and I¡¯ll go fetch it for you.¡± ¡°What!?¡± he yelled incredulously as he stepped forward. ¡°Do you seriously think I¡¯d let you handle this!?¡± Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡°Mate,¡± Harold called, interrupting him. ¡°You don¡¯t have a choice. This poor boy went through some horrible stuff just a few days ago.¡± He clicked his tongue as he scratched behind his ear. ¡°This is why I don¡¯t get you freaks. If you appeared before this guy looking like that, he¡¯d probably get a heart attack!¡± ¡°Hmph¡ª¡± he scoffed. As if that was his concern. But, unfortunately, he couldn¡¯t fight the city lord on this one. As per their contract, it was Harold¡¯s obligation¡ªas well as his right¡ªto retrieve any items manifested from this incident. If he went against this clause, that would be enough justification for the man to renege on their deal and claim the unique for himself. He had displayed enough rash behavior for the day. Nodding his head, he watched the lord walk outside with a slightly disappointed expression on his face. He gritted his teeth at the cheeky bastard. All he could do at that moment was stay his hand. And wait. *** Coming back from the toilet, finally clean, Freddy took a deep breath. Finding himself back in his apartment, he picked up the guide on his bed. Breaking the seal on either of the three scrolls before he read through this book would be premature. It probably wasn¡¯t dangerous, but there was no need to take unnecessary risks. There was no rush. He picked up the guide and started reading it. It wasn¡¯t long until he realized something quite upsetting. ¡°This book is boring as shit¡­¡± he muttered as he turned another dull page. Self-education had been a constant presence in his life until that point, so he wasn¡¯t completely ignorant of what textbooks were like. And that¡¯s what this was. A textbook. At first, he was pretty confident that this knowledge was essential, but the longer he went on, the more he felt like it was pretty useless crap that did little more than drag the text out longer than needed. Rift history¡­ Arch history¡­ He skimmed the contents, taking a deep, tired breath. Major organization history¡­ ¡°Man, what the hell is this!?¡± Strongly resisting the powerful urge to skip it all, he sat down and forced himself to read through it. Experience had taught him that recklessly disregarding sections of textbook content was a recipe for disaster further down the line. The rift happened on blah blah¡­ People fought back, more prominent fighters manifested prime vestiges, blah blah, founders, Archs United¡­ Ugh. Worst of all was that this was all stuff he already knew. But, fearing he would miss something important, he kept pushing through it. By the time he was done, he was confident¡ªhe could have skipped all that without any problem. The following section was simply titled ¡°Gathering.¡± He put the book down for a moment as he went to eat. Two sandwiches were in his fridge, a step up in quality above the crap he usually ate. Once finished, he picked up the book and continued reading. ¡°Fuck this, man,¡± he said as he skimmed over most of the text. It was dull, irrelevant stuff discussing boring ether theory. He would still read through it to ensure he didn¡¯t skip anything important¡­ just¡­ later. Ether was quite simple, even intuitive, as far as he was concerned. It was mystical energy that came from who-knew-where, and whenever it touched something, it became like the thing it interacted with. He briefly glanced at all the paragraphs until something important finally grabbed his attention. ¡­this process, named ¡°ether shift,¡± is how wisps are created. Wisps are particles of attuned ether and are its most commonly found form. Collecting wisps is called gathering. Gathering is¡­ The passage continued briefly, describing how it was done, but it was relatively simple, even if there were several methods to doing so. However, rather than put the guide down and try it, he continued reading. His attention was grabbed instantly by the next section. The Ethercosm and the Netherecho. *** Freddy put the book down beside him as he got into a seated position on the bed. Although it didn¡¯t matter what pose one did this in, he still decided on the cross-legged meditation pose. Simply because he found it cool. Sitting like that gave him a backache, though, so he decided to lie down instead. Now, it was time to focus. It could take a while the first time, so he prepared himself to stay like that for as long as it took. His breathing was regular, and his bodily needs were pushed aside as he focused, seeking the center of his being. *** A grand white star¡ªa massive celestial object¡ªappeared before him, making him feel infinitely tiny in its presence as he¡­ ¡­gasped, opened his eyes, and got up, startled. The book didn¡¯t mention anything about that jumpscare. It looked like it was described in the book, but¡­ man. This time, he entered expecting to see the same thing. And there it was. His first star. There was no actual size in one¡¯s inner ethercosm. This was only a matter of perspective. With some focus, he pulled back, distancing himself to get a better view. Yeah¡­ that makes a lot more sense. While observing the entirety of the ethercosm¡ªthe manifested projection of his soul¡ªit was utterly empty. Darkness was almost all he could see in the weird space within, and the overbearing star looked like nothing more than a speck of dust, to the point that if he lost focus, it took him a while to find it again. Focusing on the star once more, he appeared before the grand object. It truly felt enormous, slowly roiling with wild energy. He felt giddy looking at it. Holy crap, I have a goddamn star in my soul! If he had a voice, he would be cackling merrily in joy. The still-unattuned star was stark white, glowing with an iridescent purity that only raw ether could display. While this sounded like something special, in reality, all it meant was that his essence was useless. This glorious object could be compared to an empty cup. Now, he had to fill it with water. He kicked his consciousness back out, finding his body covered in sweat, shivering slightly. That was quite an unusual experience, but he had to get used to it. From then on, it would become a part of his life. Taking a deep breath, he once again calmed himself. What he was about to do now was considerably more difficult. And very dangerous. His hesitation was perfectly justified. Even the book had recommended seeking therapy if he couldn¡¯t cope with what he was about to see. But that was enough stalling. Once again, he calmed himself and appeared within his ethercosm. Then, with some focus, he imagined a door. It didn¡¯t strictly need to be a door, but he had to focus on anything he closely related to the concept of an ¡°exit.¡± It took some work, but a regular wooden door soon appeared before him. There was no body with which he could grab the handle, but there was no need to do that. Leaving the first time only required an imaginary exit and the intent to move through it. So he imagined precisely that¡ªand stepped out into the Netherecho. He was surrounded by what he could only describe as a rainbow fog painted onto reality by broad brush strokes. As the mist gradually dissipated, or, instead, as it was erased, an object was revealed to his side. It looked like a massive mannequin lying down on a surface. It also appeared as if it were painted on, and it wasn¡¯t long until he realized what he was looking at. That was no mannequin. That was his body. And it wasn¡¯t huge. Instead, he was tiny. Taking a look down, he observed the projection he found himself in. He couldn¡¯t see his face, naturally, but he appeared to be wearing a cyan dress or robes. This was the Netherecho¡ªa deeper layer of reality that only existed in truths and concepts and could only be accessed by projecting one¡¯s soul. All objects within appeared like a cartoonified caricature of their real-world equivalent. But that wasn¡¯t all that could be found there. The fog surrounding him continued its decline, and what appeared to be minor, colorful splotches of floating paint remained behind¡ªwisps. They fluttered and shifted, slowly falling or rising, unfettered by air or gravity¡ªneither of which really existed here¡ªand morphing in ways appropriate to their related element. The projection he was embodying had many similar functions to his actual body, even if they felt strangely exaggerated. And the way it would be for his real body in such a situation, his heart raged wildly, so much so that he could see a cartoony heart shape pushing his robes out. He stared at the dissipating fog, slowly getting cold feet as it grew increasingly distant. Before long, it would reveal at least one, and rather than run, he decided to stay behind and observe. The fog reached the ground below his bed, and the head of a creature popped out. ¡°Guys, we gotta hurry!¡± Oh fuck that shit! he swore internally. It looked almost like a cartoony alarm clock, and its entire body was a deep gray. It was pretty small, too, only about perhaps twice the size of his balled-up fist. He tried to convince himself that it wasn¡¯t scary, but that didn¡¯t change reality. That was a wild vestige. And they could, and often would, get aggressive. The projection of someone like him was miserably fragile, and if it were destroyed¡­ he would die. What stood less than a meter away from him could quickly turn into a foe, and if it decided to attack, he had but a moment to react and leave before it reached him. His situation was akin to standing naked before a lion, and the only way to survive its pounce was to react fast enough. ¡°Secrets¡­ are good. And I¡¯m¡­ the best¡­ at keeping those, yes, very secretive,¡± a voice came from his left, and he turned to face it. The fog revealed the chest beside his bed, and on it stood another creature. It looked like a shriveled, obese old man with a key hanging on a necklace around his neck. ¡°I¡¯ll break the sun! Just wait, you slithery little glow ball! I¡¯ll get you eventually!¡± Yet another one appeared at his window. It looked like a glass panel with a ray of floating light traveling through it and breaking at the halfway point. There was some sort of non-descript muttering coming from beneath the bed, and as the rainbow mist finally reached his fridge, it revealed another one standing beside the glass of water. It looked like a transparent orb holding shifting liquid within. It wept, ¡°Can someone please just kick it out already? Waaaah!¡± ¡°Shut up!¡± the shriveled old man sitting atop his chest yelled. ¡°You will rustle my secrets awake! Scoundrel!¡± ¡°Such puny tears will never quench that bastard,¡± the glass panel proclaimed dramatically. ¡°I think it¡¯s time you stop whining!¡± the alarm screamed hysterically. ¡°Waaaah!¡± None of them appeared aggressive, at least not from this distance. But the book had named enough examples of seemingly docile vestiges abruptly killing someone that he was struggling to gather up the courage to move. But he had to. He was supposed to find a water wisp and grasp it¡ªthe first drop in the glass, basically. It was essential for truly activating his star. But the problem was that the few water wisps he saw flowing through the air were quite far from where he was. He would have to move over and grab them. His projection¡¯s palm sat on the thigh of his body. He eyed one of the closer wisps and prepared himself to grab it. The moment he felt that either one of these vestiges was even a little hostile¡ª ¡°It-It is you¡­¡± a deep, gurgly voice said, interrupting his thoughts. It was considerably louder than that of any of the vestiges, and as it spoke, all the others turned to face the garbage can. He wanted to leave with every ounce of his being, but a morbid curiosity made him linger just a bit longer. A decision he sorely regretted as a bloody skeleton thrice the size of any of the vestiges appeared from behind the bin and opened its dripping maw. ¡°You have finally arrived.¡± Chapter 7 - Unwanted Admirer Freddy appeared back in reality, and the first thing he did was the most rational thing he could think of¡ª ¡°Holy fucking shit!¡± he freaked out. ¡°Jesus Christ! Ew ew ew ew ew ew ew ew¡ª¡± So that was what the book meant when it mentioned therapy. Crap like that existed everywhere around him!? And how was he supposed to sleep at night knowing that creepy bullshit like that was hiding behind his garbage can!? And the whispering under his bed¡­ Oh, God, is that another abomination? He got off the bed and kicked at the air apprehensively, fearing that he might touch something invisible. After finally confirming what was relatively common sense, or rather, that he couldn¡¯t feel anything that lived within the Netherecho, he finally calmed down. There wasn¡¯t a real need to enter the Netherecho within his apartment. Low-level wild vestiges appeared everywhere, so he could just go to the park or something when he needed to find some. But¡­ why!? Couldn¡¯t it be like cute kittens or something? Did it have to be a bloody skeleton!? He groaned in displeasure as he plopped back onto his bed. Screw therapy. He should get an exterminator or¡ª ¡°Please,¡± something whispered into his ear, ¡°come back.¡± ¡°Oh, fucking¡ª¡± He jumped off the bed, heart beating wildly. Did he just imagine that? He must have. ¡°Oh, please tell me I just imagined that¡­! Please¡­¡± he begged as he stood frozen, waiting for something to happen. ¡°Oh, thank God¡ª¡± ¡°Please¡­ Master.¡± ¡°Oh fuck fuck fuckity shit, it¡¯s climbing on top of me!¡± he yelled as he waved his hands sporadically, trying to slap an invisible skeleton out of the air. Freddy took his shirt off and threw it to the corner of the room, then he moved behind the trash can, using the garbage bin as a shield against the creepy thing. As he stood there, frozen, he couldn¡¯t see anything anywhere. In this situation, the best thing to do would be to just run and look for someone to help him. But what if that thing was still crawling somewhere on his body? That didn¡¯t matter¡ªit shouldn¡¯t, but it did! There was clearly something abnormal about this creature. For some reason, it could affect reality outside the Netherecho. If it was still latched onto him, and if it decided to attack him, who could say that it couldn¡¯t hurt him? He most certainly didn¡¯t know. But¡­ if it could affect him, then maybe he could also affect it. As long as he could confirm where it was and if it was still on his body, he could throw it off before running away. Okay, Freddy, in and out, he thought. Just in and out. Enter that place, and leave it instantly when you confirm where it is. Okay? Got it? Good. Since he had entered it twice, appearing within his ethercosm was relatively easy. And this time, he didn¡¯t even need to imagine a door since he already knew what it felt like. Given that he was standing upright, with some deliberation, he ensured that his projection would appear on top of his head, where he was most likely to be safe. Hopefully, at least. Pushing his anxiety aside, he focused on the door. In and out. In and out. With a thought, he appeared inside and¡ª A sudden burst of numbness spread through his side as the world spun around him; a powerful jet of water struck his projection, and he flew at the wall, slammed into it with a wet splash, and plummeted to the ground behind his garbage can. What¡­ just happened? He couldn¡¯t move, and his connection to reality felt distant, flickering with flashes of soul-rending cold. Why couldn¡¯t he move? Barely managing to shift his head, he looked at the body of his projection. There was a massive hole right in the middle of his torso, and what looked like floating streams of paint were liberally leaving his projection. ¡°Waaah!¡± the glass ball vestige wailed from the top of the fridge, the liquid sloshing within. ¡°You brought it back here! You stupid stupid stupid! Waaah!¡± Ah¡­ I see. Barely lifting his tiny head, he looked at the garbage can. A moment later, the bloody, dripping head of a skeleton peeked from behind it, its empty eye sockets boring another set of holes in his projection. Was this the end¡­? ¡°No¡­ please,¡± he begged, his weak voice sounding frail and distant, with hints of indistinct buzzing to it. ¡°I haven¡¯t done anything yet,¡± he argued. ¡°I just got my chance. Please. Please don¡¯t kill me.¡± The crimson skull apparition gazed upon him, its size towering over his limp, flickering form. Its eyes shone with a cold, crimson light. Its maw opened with a clicky, snappy growl as it reeled in fury. But rather than direct that at him, it turned to face the glassy orb on the fridge. ¡°What are you looking at!?¡± the glass orb vestige spat, sending a jet of water that washed over the skeleton without causing harm. ¡°Waaaaah! You¡¯re scary! I don¡¯t like you!¡± it proclaimed. Then, the skeleton slowly began walking toward the fridge and climbing it. It wasn¡¯t long until it forced its way up, and when it did¡ª It grabbed the glassy orb vestige like a ball and lifted it into the air. It cried, yelling at the skeleton to make it stop, but it was too late. The massive bloody bone man repeatedly slammed it into the fridge, cracking its body until it shattered and dissipated into motes of flowing blue patches of color. Then, the bloody thing grabbed a fistful of those motes, jumped back down, and walked over to him. Once it approached him, it somewhat forcefully shoved the wisps at his projection, like it was almost trying to seal the gaping hole in his chest. As soon as those motes touched him, he mustered the tiniest shred of willpower¡ªall he could manage¡ªand absorbed it into his body. His projection rapidly recovered from the damage it had suffered, and he felt a change occur. The pure, unblemished white of his star morphed, adopting the splotchy blue color that rapidly became the primary hue of his core. The instant his projection recovered, he rushed past the skeleton, touched his body, returned to the real world, jumped over the trash can, and ran to get out of the apartment. However, as his hand rested on the doorknob, he felt it shaking. Sweat poured down his body, and the thundering sound of his heart hammering away echoed in his ears like drums of war. Grunting in effort, he tried to force himself to open the door and just leave, but¡ª ¡°Shit!¡± he yelled as he once again returned to Netherecho, this time standing on his left shoulder, where he could use his head as a shield if any of the other vestiges tried anything. The skeleton stood below his body, reaching for the nondescript, gray form that represented his legs. He threateningly waved his hands at it and screamed. ¡°No! Bad skeleton! Get off me immediately!¡± he ordered. Despite being the one to dish out the command, he was still surprised when the thing nodded, obediently released its grip, and began walking back away. ¡°This can¡¯t be happening¡­¡± he whispered. Why was this thing listening to him? And why did it save his life? Regarding vestiges, they weren¡¯t genuinely conscious and didn¡¯t have what one could call ¡°free will.¡± They acted obsessively, latching onto an idea and following that concept with every action they took. And for this bloody skeleton, following him had become its paradigm. Wisps were the lowest natural form of ether construct, and once enough gathered, they formed a vestige. Vestiges could grow in power to become remnants, and those could eventually become spirits and, finally, eidolons. Judging by its size and power, this thing wasn¡¯t a vestige. It was a remnant. They were supposed to be pretty damn rare and were only meant to appear in extremely ether-dense environments. So¡­ why did one appear in his apartment? His mind suddenly made the connection. Could this be related to the incident? ¡°The clothes!¡± he exclaimed, facing the garbage can. Indeed. Plenty of blood had been pooled there just a day ago. Monster blood at that. Either way, there was a more important thing to consider. Personified ether constructs, in any of their forms, always told the truth if asked. So ask it, he would. ¡°You,¡± he called. ¡°Do you¡­ Do you have any intention of killing me?¡± he started with the most pressing matter. Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. ¡°No,¡± it denied. ¡°Absolutely not, my lord.¡± Did that thing just refer to me as ¡°my lord?¡± ¡°All right then¡­ uh¡­¡± His mind rushed as he tried to think of what to ask next. ¡°Why are you following me?¡± It shifted its empty eye sockets up at him. ¡°I am bloodshed,¡± it declared. ¡°And you are the one who sheds blood. I am convinced you are fated to bathe the universe in red, my everything.¡± ¡°Huh?¡± he blurted out, utterly bewildered by its words. ¡°Through bloodshed, you rejected death,¡± it decreed. ¡°You traded peaceful prosperity for the uncertainty of violence,¡± it reminded him. ¡°Be it fortune, fate, or overwhelming power, nothing can stop you from heading down the path of bloodshed.¡± Well¡­ if all that he knew about himself were the last few days of his life, even he¡¯d jump to some conclusions. He wasn¡¯t done asking it questions, but no matter how he phrased it, this being didn¡¯t seem to have any ill intent toward him. It was quite the opposite, actually. If anything, it worshiped him. Leaving him with an important decision¡ªwhat exactly should he do? If he tried contacting authorities, he was confident they would get rid of it for free. Hell, he might even get paid for it. But was that worth it? No, a better question was whether that was the smart thing to do. This was a remnant, meaning all it had said so far was the truth; anything less was impossible, as dictated by the very nature of a sentient ether construct. Before jumping to any rash decisions, he wanted to see this thing in action. ¡°My¡­ uh¡­ minion! Yes! I give you a command!¡± It bowed to him. ¡°Anything, Your Grace.¡± Freddy glanced around. ¡°Get rid of all the other vestiges in this room!¡± ¡°As you wish.¡± The bloody skeleton ponderously trod toward the chest. It grabbed the ledge and slowly pulled itself up. ¡°Secrets! You are here for my secrets! Well, I can always appreciate a seeker of¡ª¡± Before the chubby vestige could finish its sentence, the bloody skeleton balled its fist and smashed its head from above, cracking its skull, which immediately began unraveling into wisps. And then again. And again. The fourth strike shattered the wrinkled phantom¡¯s body into bits, and the chubby ether construct dissipated into a small cloud of colorful wisps. Vestiges were tied to certain, specific concepts. And such concepts, more often than not, had an affinity for several different elements. This creature seemed to have been made of wood and metal ether, and the appropriate metallic and wooden splotches of color drifted away from where it stood. The skeleton descended from the chest and walked over to the window. ¡°You cretin!¡± the glass panel assaulted. ¡°Be you an ally of the searing¡ª¡± Yet again, before the creature could finish, the skeleton jumped up, grabbed its leg, and pulled it down, smashing it into the floor and crushing it to pieces. The vestige shattered into splotches of glassy, transparent stains and particles of flickering light. ¡°We must hurry! It is soon time¡ª¡± The vestige that looked like a cartoony clock was picked up and repeatedly smashed against the wall, eventually shattering into wisps of metal and crystal. And finally, the skeleton bent down to reach under the bed. It pulled out what appeared to be a tiny boogeyman¡ªa dark vestige with a terrifying outward appearance. It slashed and swung its claws at the bloody skeleton, being the only one that had even put up a fight. But it was futile. The skeleton opened its maw, far wider than he expected it to be able to, and bit the tiny creature¡¯s head off, dissipating it into fluttering splotches of darkness. ¡°That is all of them, my liege.¡± This thing is freaking scary¡­ but damn is it efficient, he thought. ¡°Ah, yeah¡­ g-good job, uh¡­¡± Should he name the skeleton? Before he could decide on anything, it turned and looked at him. ¡°Bloodshed. I am bloodshed, so you can call me Bloodshed,¡± it introduced itself. Then it cocked its skull. ¡°Unless you wish to name me something else?¡± ¡°Uh, no, uhm¡­ Bloodshed is fine,¡± his voice cracked, apparently still capable of doing so even when he was in his projection. He coughed. ¡°Quite the lovely name, really, has very¡­ uhm¡­ It¡¯s charming,¡± he eked out nervously. ¡°Yeah, now, uh¡­¡± He pondered what to do. Should he make a¡­ corner for this thing? Maybe buy a dog bed? Or just shove it under his bed? Ah, no, he might as well cuddle it to sleep every night! Yeah. No way. Even if he were a 100 percent certain that it wanted to cause him no harm, there was no fucking way he could fall asleep with it in his room. So, he thought about it a bit and eventually landed on a conclusion. There were most certainly no archs in this building other than him, but even if one appeared by some miracle, he doubted they would have any reason to check the Netherecho. This meant he could hide this thing wherever he wanted. Putting it in the middle of the hallway was definitely unwise, though, and on the off-chance that someone actually did check the Netherecho, he¡¯d rather not be hiding skeletons right in front of his door. Locking it in the chest in his room wouldn¡¯t work. ¡°Objects,¡± or rather, their representation within the Netherecho, unless made of a special material, were a temporary barrier at most to personified ether constructs. Well, then¡­ The toilet was¡­ No. Just no. What about the storage room on the first floor? He pondered that. Well, it was as fine an option as he could think of. Now, there was only the question of convincing the skeleton. Maybe he could bait it outside somehow? ¡°Hey, uh¡­ Bloodshed?¡± ¡°What is it, my lord?¡± ¡°You know this apartment¡­¡± he started, contemplating how to phrase his offer. ¡°It¡¯s kind of tiny and suffocating and all that. Wouldn¡¯t you want to be somewhere else?¡± he asked respectfully. ¡°My liege, whatever you wish, say it. I will simply obey.¡± It cut right to the chase, almost as if it could see the web of bullshit he was trying to weave. ¡°Oh!¡± he exclaimed, moderately perturbed at this thing¡¯s ability to read his intentions. ¡°Well, uh¡­ okay then! Follow me.¡± And with that, he left the Netherecho. Once he appeared in the real world, he opened the door and waited for the slow skeleton to move outside. A woman walked through the hallway, the same person he had accidentally jumpscared the other day, and she shot him a half-terrified-half-concerned glance as she walked so fast she nearly jogged down the stairs. At this point, he realized he was standing half-naked with a somewhat shell-shocked expression, holding his door open for no apparent reason. Pfft! So judgmental! I¡¯m just taking my invisible pet skeleton, Bloodshed, out for a walk! People nowadays, seriously¡­ But yeah, he should probably at least put his shirt back on. As he guided the skeleton, he left and reentered the Netherecho several times, and before long, they were inside the storage room on the ground floor of the building. It was a small, dingy space filled with old boxes piled on rotting shelves. There was nothing of value here; it was mostly filled with half-garbage, the type of stuff people didn¡¯t want to throw away but also wouldn¡¯t mind having stolen if it happened. A few empty boxes lay around, and an idea flashed in his mind. ¡°Hey, Bloodshed. Can you get inside that box over there?¡± The skeleton obeyed, and he returned to reality, moving the box from where it stood to the other side of the room. Once he returned to the Netherecho, he discovered that Bloodshed was still in the cardboard container. ¡°Huh¡­ Neat.¡± For a second, he had thought that the skeleton would simply stay where it was if he moved the box, but through whatever Netherecho fuckery was at play, that didn¡¯t happen. He wondered what would happen if he crushed the box with the remnant in there, but that was an experiment for another day, and with something he didn¡¯t mind getting squashed. ¡°Hey, Bloodshed,¡± he called, now back in the Netherecho. ¡°Do you mind staying inside this box?¡± It again looked up at him with those creepy, empty eye sockets and muttered, ¡°Anything you wish.¡± ¡°All right then! That suits me just fine.¡± He closed the box, taping it shut. Then he located an old marker, wrote fragile on the side and top, and put it on one of the shelves in a far corner. And with that, he returned to his apartment and dropped to his bed. He chuckled. Then, he cackled vociferously. ¡°Holy shit,¡± he said, ¡°what even is my life anymore!?¡± In a few very eventful days, he had gone from a run-of-the-mill cashier to an arch who had tamed a remnant! It felt so surreal that he didn¡¯t know what to do anymore. The longer this continued, the more he craved confirmation that this was real and that he wasn¡¯t on some acid trip. Lying on the bed, he couldn¡¯t stop chuckling. His heartbeat sped up, and he felt himself breathing uncontrollably, but he couldn¡¯t stop laughing. This is nothing, he thought to himself as he grabbed his shaking hand¡­ He was just very excited. No, he couldn¡¯t wait to continue! So, without hesitation, he returned to the Netherecho again. The desire to laugh still persisted, but he felt it gradually weaken in his projection. Well, that made for a quick and easy way to calm down, at least. He looked around. His room was now filled to the brim with countless specks of floating color. There were several ways to gather. He could sit and focus on thinking about water-related stuff, and eventually, he could vaguely sense any nearby water wisps and then slowly attract them to his body. This was the go-to method for proper gathering. But he was too weak to do that for the time being. So he resorted to another, far more hands-on and usually much slower method¡ªdoing it manually. One water wisp was flowing through the air to his side, and he reached to grab it. The moment he touched it, it required nearly no effort to absorb into his body. ¡°Hmm¡­¡± he hummed, focusing on the sensation the action produced. While he had little frame of reference, he could tell that it hadn¡¯t been very¡­ satisfying? Fulfilling? He wondered what to compare the feeling to. Given that it was a water wisp¡­ well¡­ if he were thirsty, the wisp he had just absorbed would be the equivalent of licking a drop of dew off a blade of grass. Maybe even less than that. And there weren¡¯t all that many of them around, either. While the space inside his apartment was positively booming with wisps, water was in the minority. But, he didn¡¯t need to focus on only them. Approaching a fluttering patch of darkness, he restrained it, gripping it with both of his little hands. Once he finally applied enough force, the wisp shattered, dissipating into ethereal, white particles, most of which almost immediately disappeared. A small portion, however, was absorbed directly into his projection. Crushing a wisp to turn it back into unattuned ether rewarded him with less than a tenth of the benefit, but with no alternatives, it was better than nothing. Suddenly, a powerful force began pulling his projection back toward his body. No matter what he did, he felt powerless to resist it, and his legs moved on their own to return him to reality. Once he returned, he heard knocking coming from his door, accompanied by the call of a man¡¯s voice. ¡°Hello!? Anybody in there?¡± He was still shaking in his bed, but he forced it down as he got up. Part of him wanted to ignore it, but he feared it might be important and was a little hopeful that the insurance company might have changed its mind. The door swung open, and an onyx-haired man dressed in casual streetwear wearing a gray hoodie and black sweatpants greeted him. His eyes appeared somewhat snakey; something was vaguely off about his irises. Other than that, he was pretty attractive, and his pale skin was smoother than polished porcelain. ¡°Hey there, kid!¡± he greeted cheerfully. ¡°Are you perhaps Freddy Stern?¡± Chapter 8 - All The Blood There Is Freddy stared at the stranger standing right outside his apartment. ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s me,¡± he answered the man¡¯s previous question. ¡°Uhm¡­ is there anything I can help you with?¡± ¡°You should probably get out of the apartment,¡± the man said casually. ¡°There might be something dangerous here.¡± ¡°Uhhh, who¡­ who are you?¡± he asked skeptically, showing no intent to leave and even lightly closing the doors. Some random dude came barging in, claiming there was something ¡°dangerous¡± in his apartment, and now he wanted him to leave? This smelled incredibly fishy, and every instinct he had honed during his time in this god-forsaken complex immediately flared up. However, the man didn¡¯t force him to leave or do anything untoward. He merely closed his eyes for a few seconds, but it wasn¡¯t long until they shot open as he glanced at him. ¡°You¡¯re an arch,¡± he said, slight surprise apparent in his lightly raised eyebrow. ¡°Freshly ascended at that. Huh¡­¡± he mused out loud as he cocked his head. ¡°What did you do in the Netherecho here?¡± Well, this changed the situation quite drastically. Judging by the man¡¯s demeanor, he was undoubtedly an arch himself, and based on his behavior, he was here with a purpose. Some details were beginning to line up. ¡°Something dangerous¡± was probably Bloodshed, and this man had somehow found out about the creepy skeleton remnant. However, the idea of coming clean and laying it out straight to the man had never crossed his mind for even a second. To him, who had grown up in an orphanage, the unique combination of ¡°This might be an authority figure¡± and ¡°I might have done something they don¡¯t like¡± instantly triggered a deeply ingrained habit of his¡ª¡°It is time to lie my fucking ass off.¡± ¡°Oh man,¡± he said, shaking his head. ¡°I went in there, and this thing was under my bed. It went freakin¡¯ wild, slaughtering all the vestiges in my room, and at the end, it was quite wounded, so even though I barely touched it, it just went poof. I nearly shit my pants. My hands are still shaking, see?¡± His hands were, indeed, still shaking, albeit for several different reasons. The man frowned upon hearing that. ¡°Jesus! You shouldn¡¯t do stuff like that at your level,¡± he chastised. ¡°You¡¯re lucky to be alive. Wait, did the vestige that went wild in your room look bloody in any way?¡± ¡°No,¡± he denied outright. ¡°I¡¯d say it was more of a mini-boogeyman.¡± ¡°I see,¡± the man said, nodding, likely convinced by the shadowy wisps he had seen in the Netherecho. ¡°Just a quick question. Was there anything strange behind your trash can?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± he responded with a tiny shred of hesitation, but an intentional one. Because he wasn¡¯t about to lie; he was about to tell the truth. ¡°I had some bloody clothes there. Ah, I mean, I didn¡¯t, like, kill anyone¡ªwell, I did, but a monster in the passage bre¡ª¡± ¡°Bloody clothes?¡± The man latched on to that detail, as expected. ¡°And where are they now?¡± he asked with a clean undertone of urgency to his voice. ¡°I¡­ Uh¡­ I threw them in the trash.¡± ¡°Ah fuck,¡± the man swore and clicked his tongue. ¡°When?¡± ¡°Uh¡­ A-A day ago?¡± He tried remembering. ¡°Yeah, something like that; sorry, I¡¯ve had a few crazy days, so I¡ª¡± The man groaned as he turned around to run. Halfway down the stairs, though, he paused and turned around. ¡°Just another quick question. Nothing serious, I¡¯m just curious,¡± he said as he squinted at him. ¡°Did you kill a monster with a plastic bag?¡± He was caught off guard by the question, and he reflexively chuckled. ¡°Yeah¡­ I guess.¡± The man grinned. ¡°How the fuck did you do that?¡± he asked with genuine mirth in his voice. ¡°I uh¡­ I¡ªuhm, I swung the uh, bag, I mean, it had a can in there, a can of beans, and I swung it like. You know, like a¡ª¡± ¡°Ha!¡± the man guffawed, clapping his hands in mirth. ¡°A can of fucking beans!?¡± he wheezed. ¡°What a riot! You bean flailed that thing, holy shit!¡± ¡°Bean flail?¡± he asked with a chuckle. ¡°You know what, kid?¡± the man said, wagging a finger at him. ¡°I have a strange feeling that this won¡¯t be the last time we meet.¡± I kind of really hope that it will, he thought but still forced a smile on his face. Now that the man was leaving, he finally permitted his curiosity some freedom. ¡°I have a question for you, too, if you don¡¯t mind,¡± he said, ¡°uhm, who are you?¡± The man with strange eyes grinned at the question, waving him off. ¡°I¡¯m just some random bastard,¡± he stated dismissively and, clearly in a rush, fled down the stairs and left the building. ¡°Ah, I see,¡± he said to nobody in particular. He slowly closed his apartment door, and once it was locked, his legs immediately lost all their strength, and he crumpled to the ground, breaking into a cold sweat. ¡°Did I have to lie to him¡­?¡± he whispered quizzically into his chin. ¡°He seemed pretty nice¡­¡± But someone just being nice wasn¡¯t enough to stop the habit from kicking in. If anything, it made him even more likely to lie. The nicer they seemed to be, usually, the harder they hit. If you come clean, we¡¯ll go easy on you. The words flashed in his mind. Every kid at the orphanage fell for it once. Only once. And never again. He buried his face into his knees, unable to move from where he sat. For whatever reason, his first reaction was to enter the Netherecho. The instant he appeared there, he felt slightly better. The anxiety and flush of adrenaline were gone, left behind in his physical body. He still didn¡¯t feel good; the vague sensation of anxiety and general distress was still there, but it was easier to ignore it. Yeah. This could quickly turn into a terrible habit. But, at the moment, if it freed him from feeling like that, he wouldn¡¯t mind letting it turn into one. Running away from one¡¯s problems for the win. The swarm of colorful splotches of ethereal paint shimmered through the air around him, each morphing and shifting in a way appropriate to their element. Shadow wisps were like little balls of darkness; light wisps were tiny constellations of flickering lights; water wisps flowed through the air like liquid seeking a path through cracked stone; wood wisps were like branches growing in random directions, wilting and vanishing at the tail end; metal, crystal, and glass floated in chunks; and what appeared to be air wisps looked like tiny gusts of cartoony wind, loopy squiggles flying through the air. It was a mesmerizing sight once he finally had the safety to observe it as he pleased. There were even some he hadn¡¯t noticed before, and now that he saw them, they appeared kind of¡­ ew. Bloody marks, tiny masses of what looked like pulsing, freaky, organic matter, and clumps of¡­ rot? There were also small masses of shifting skulls, which he presumed represented the death affinity. There was a rather high density due to the slaughter that had recently transpired. Regardless of their nature, their ether would nourish his soul all the same, so he started collecting them without much hesitation. His projection wasn¡¯t slow, per se, but it gave the impression of sluggishness. Running in the Netherecho reminded him of running in a dream. His projection felt weightless, and the air, or rather, the space around him, was like a dense liquid, preventing him from gathering momentum. While walking, it was unnoticeable, but whenever he tried to run, it stifled his movements. First, he began gathering all the water wisps he could. Quite a few were floating too high for him to reach. So he tried jumping. His leap was surprisingly high, and he freaked out when he realized he was about to fall back down. Yet, on his descent, not only did he slowly hover down, but when he hopped again, even when allowing himself to descend faster, he didn¡¯t feel any impact. When he got slammed by that water jet, he certainly felt like he had fallen to the ground, all right. There was a slam, a thud, and everything. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. He gradually realized a few things about movement in the Netherecho through experimentation. Strictly speaking, the ¡°laws of physics,¡± or at least whatever was left of them, didn¡¯t apply here. This was a place of ideas and truths in concepts¡ªa dream world that didn¡¯t like playing by outside rules. It wasn¡¯t much later that he replaced the physical action of ¡°running¡± with the idea of ¡°traversing quickly¡± and embraced the difference between a ¡°descent¡± and a ¡°fall.¡± His projection fluttered around without fear of injury, and gathering the wisps in range became much more straightforward. He went from forcefully crushing the shards of ether to pulling them apart and unraveling them, which took half the time and exertion. One colorful splotch after another was deconstructed and consumed by the little projection. At a certain point, he was truly out of wisps in range. Granted, he could simply wait for them to float down, but he had a better idea. Returning to his body, he lifted an arm into the air. Then he focused, and his projection appeared on his palm. ¡°Success! Now I just have to¡ª¡± He was interrupted when the arm he stood on vanished. His projection fell to the ground below, landing without any problem. But he looked at his body in abject terror, seeing that his arm had disappeared. ¡°Did something cut my¡ª¡± But before he could finish, his arm reappeared, but in a relaxed position beside his body instead of hanging in the air. ¡°Oh, yeah¡­ I forgot about that.¡± Upon entering the Netherecho, his body would remain in the same position he left it in, but it wouldn¡¯t stay like that for long if the stance took any willpower to maintain. Almost immediately upon entering the Netherecho, his arm had relaxed and dropped down to rest in a natural position beside his body. Given that moving objects couldn¡¯t appear within the Netherecho unless their movement was repetitive, like the spinning of a wheel or a fan, the arm had disappeared and only reappeared once it was stationary again. Not a problem for his plans, though. He just had to react fast enough. Yet again, he appeared on his palm, and before the arm could vanish beneath his feet, he jumped off the hand. A water wisp entered his range, and he grabbed it out of the air, consuming it. Through repeatedly repositioning his body, he was able to collect every single wisp of ether in his room. Now, all that remained was to check his progress. It was¡­ Honestly speaking, he could barely tell the difference. The star in his ethercosm had changed slightly. But it wasn¡¯t on the level of a few drops of water in a glass. It was more akin to a thin layer of condensation gathering on the glass¡¯s surface. But that was fine. He was alive and well. With time, he would find better places to gather than this dingy apartment. The sun was already setting, and he felt famished. His entire body was sore, and he craved proper rest. So he would have it. He ate his other sandwich, got ready for sleep, and went to bed. It wasn¡¯t even 7 p.m. But in more ways than one, he was just done. The same way he had told himself many times recently, he thought it again as he drifted to sleep. There was no more need to rush. *** Harold stood at the dump yard, sighing deeply. He had tracked the shipment, the person who shipped it, even the position it was offloaded in, and still¡­ Before him was a bag filled with ordinary garbage and a brown-stained work uniform. It was dried blood. And judging by the amount, it must have been one heavy can of beans. A trip to the Netherecho revealed a cursed object, as expected. The uniform was thickly oozing with blood and wrath aura. So much so that the surrounding garbage vestiges didn¡¯t dare come close to it. He didn¡¯t find what he was looking for. Thank God. Placating that bloody toddler would be a pain in the ass, but it was preferable to handing a competitor such a massive boon. He bent over and picked up the smelly, sweaty clothes out of the pile of trash. It was time to return and hopefully not have a fight to death. *** Janhalar sat in the corner of the tent, his fury heightening with every second that passed. His foot restlessly hopped on the ground, and as the room entrance shifted, his foot slammed the asphalt hard enough to make it crack. He rushed to get up and marched forward to the city lord. ¡°Did you find it!?¡± Rather than answer his damn question, the prick simply handed him filthy clothes. A quick check of the Netherecho left him stunned. This was a very intense cursed object. But it wasn¡¯t a unique one. And the remnant was nowhere to be found. ¡°Harold¡­¡± He tried to be calm, but his upper lip still curled in a snarl as he barked, ¡°Where is it!?¡± ¡°Didn¡¯t find it,¡± the lord responded calmly. He took a deep breath. Wisdom and patience could topple any mountain and cross any ocean. He had been patient. Now, he would be wise. Without saying a word, he turned to exit and stepped forward. Instantly, the ground shifted into snakes that wrapped around his ankles. ¡°Hold on there, partner,¡± Harold called. ¡°Where are you going?¡± ¡°Are you instigating a fight against me, Lord?¡± he asked, a chilling calm permeating his words. ¡°That depends,¡± the man answered. ¡°Where are you going?¡± he asked again. ¡°Our deal is finished. Am I not allowed to leave?¡± ¡°Not until you answer my question,¡± Harold declared. ¡°All right then. Let me answer with a counter-question,¡± he said as blood dripped down his arms and formed two red blades. He turned to face the city lord, eyes bloodshot and teeth bared. ¡°Where is your proof?¡± Harold shrugged. ¡°If you doubt my word, take it to the Empress.¡± The snakes dissolved. He retracted his blood blades as he scoffed. ¡°I have no reason to bother her with something like this. I will see for myself.¡± ¡°We are already overstepping the boundary here, Patriarch,¡± the slithery bastard claimed. ¡°Our actions until now can be justified as protecting civilians, but this kid is a different story. Although he only ascended recently, he is an archhuman.¡± ¡°And why should that concern me?¡± ¡°We can explain it away as protection when it¡¯s a matter of mortals, but legally and morally speaking, you aren¡¯t entitled to anything this man possesses,¡± Harold informed him sternly. ¡°You only get those clothes because he willingly threw them away.¡± That was correct. Technically. But he certainly didn¡¯t care. ¡°Do not take me for a fool, Lord,¡± he spat sharply. ¡°If that man is keeping the remnant around, that is nothing but an act of delayed suicide. A freshly minted archhuman has no business playing with powers out of his grasp.¡± Then, with a smirk, he added, ¡°Or are you being intentionally negligent in allowing him to endanger his own life?¡± Harold smirked at that. ¡°Come now. Isn¡¯t it standard practice to let the ascended endanger themselves as they please?¡± ¡°Do you truly believe I¡¯m going to accept that?¡± ¡°I highly recommend that you do,¡± the city lord said, then hardened his gaze. ¡°If I learn that you¡¯ve stepped into any form of contact with an independent arch, intending to steal from him, no less, I will start the appropriate legal process,¡± he threatened, wagging his finger. ¡°A four-star arch arrested for petty theft? That would be quite embarrassing, now, wouldn¡¯t it?¡± ¡°I have no intention of stealing anything, you worm,¡± he spat at the insult. ¡°I know my rights. I will purchase it.¡± ¡°You can¡¯t do that.¡± His neck whipped around, and he snarled. ¡°You would dare forbid¡ª¡± ¡°I¡¯m not forbidding you anything, Janhalar. I¡¯m merely stating a fact,¡± the man said. ¡°Can you afford to buy the vestige off of him at market value?¡± He hesitated at that one. ¡°I¡¯m not¡ª¡± ¡°Exactly,¡± the lord confirmed, ¡°you¡¯re not going to buy it at market value. You¡¯ll scam the fuck out of the poor boy. He won¡¯t be able to refuse an ¡®offer¡¯ from someone like you, even if it is extremely unfavorable. Such an exchange cannot be considered a consensual transaction, so I will be treating it the same as theft.¡± ¡°That decision has no legal standing,¡± he spat. ¡°That will be for the empress to decide,¡± the lord stubbornly persisted. His expression darkened. ¡°You would go that far?¡± He bared his teeth, growling at the bastard. ¡°I did not take you for someone who behaved like this, Basilisk. If you proceed, I will consider it hostility against my faction. Are you sure you want that?¡± ¡°Declare me an enemy then, and see what happens. I dare you.¡± Janhalar stood, maintaining eye contact with the lord for a few seconds. Then he turned around and started walking. ¡°I¡¯ve taken all that I¡¯m interested in,¡± and with those words, he left the tent. ¡°I liked you quite a bit more when you were quiet!¡± the lord yelled from within the tent, causing him to grit his teeth harder. The streets around the tent were thickly populated with men in uniforms. Things were already moving. The nearby buildings were already being deconstructed in preparation for turning this entire area into a hub. With such easy access to the realm, it might even become one of the largest on the planet. If he could secure his clan¡¯s position, they would soar. And to do that, he needed power. Very well, then, Freddy Stern, he thought. I¡¯ll show you what happens to those who take what¡¯s rightfully mine. *** Bloodshed sat obediently in the small box, waiting for Master to command it further. As it sat there expectantly, a long time passed, but nothing happened. Master had told it to remain within this room. But there were no restrictions regarding moving around it. Its skeletal hand touched the barrier surrounding it. And as it focused, it began slipping through the thin box. Bit by bit, it phased forward, and soon enough, it went through¡ªand fell to the ground with the wet splat of blood oozing off its bones. ¡°What are ye, ya creepy fucking thing?¡± Bloodshed turned, spotting the small vestige that appeared like a pile of boxes. Not even seconds later, the creature was turned into splotches of tumbling brown wisps. It grasped one, clutching until it crushed it and absorbed a small portion of the dissipating ether. A few other vestiges hid around the shelves and within the boxes. Grasping another one by its wiry legs, Bloodshed bent its victim¡¯s body until it, too, began dissipating. ¡°I will be preparing, Master¡­¡± it said impatiently, ¡°for the glorious day where we spill all the blood there is.¡± Chapter 9 - Reasons to Live A sizable floating bus stopped at a terminal beneath a floating island, and a man wearing a black hoodie pulled over his head stepped out. Mark realized something peculiar, as small as it may have been. For the first time in roughly seven years, he wasn¡¯t wearing any academy clothing. They had a uniform for every occasion because, of course, if one was an attendee, they had to ensure that everyone in the world knew at all times. His clothes had gotten a little small after all the muscle he had put on, and his blue jeans were so tight he was worried they¡¯d crush his nuts into infertility. He tried flexing his legs a bit to loosen them, but he heard a loud tear the instant he tried. ¡°Okay,¡± he said as he gave up. ¡°Let¡¯s not return home with half my ass hanging out.¡± He stepped onto a levitating platform, which lifted him from the waiting area into the air above the 25th district, flying up to the nearest floating island with four interconnected buildings. The grass was an alien shade of green, and the surrounding growth was so colorful that some would presume it had been painted to appear as such. Violet rose bushes, red trees, yellow cacti, and succulents in pretty much every color of the rainbow. He spotted a blonde girl waving at him from one of the detachable floating balconies. On closer look, he realized it was his thirteen-year-old younger sister, Sarah. She turned around, fumbling something, and the platform flew back, attaching to their apartment. Spotting her running back into the building, he prepared himself for the assault that was about to arrive. And, as expected, it wasn¡¯t long until she was rushing out, jumping at him, and strangling him in a bear hug. ¡°What the¡ª¡± she asked, removing herself from his body and knocking on his torso. ¡°I think I have a statue for a brother.¡± Mark laughed as he pulled back his hood, revealing his ear-length wheat blonde hair and forest-green eyes. ¡°How have you been?¡± She ignored his question and eyed his suspiciously empty hands and pockets. ¡°Did you bring me anything?¡± ¡°Am I not enough?¡± he said, feigning offense at her words. She pouted and turned around, crossing her arms. ¡°Rude!¡± He shuffled her hair and lifted her into the air, causing her to scream, ¡°Okay, okay, put me down!¡± Mark laughed and said, ¡°How about we go see Mom and Dad?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± she confirmed, dizzily grasping at her head as if trying to set it straight. ¡°Mom is making dinner, and Dad will be home soon, probably in around, like, uh, an hour?¡± Mark nodded, and soon they rode the elevator up to their apartment. While his dorm had been sufficient, even if he had to share it with three others, he always forgot how gigantic his home was. The first living room alone was enough to do some running in. In fact, there was a pretty straightforward route around the series of levitating couches in the middle. He had to go through a part of the second living room and a short hallway to finally reach the kitchen, where he found his mother washing some dishes. She was a short, blonde woman who didn¡¯t look much older than Mark himself. ¡°Mark!¡± she greeted him. ¡°Oh my gosh, you¡¯re back so soon! Wait¡ª¡± She wiped her hands and rushed to hug him, kissing him on the cheek. ¡°Sit down! We¡¯ll wait for your dad, and then we¡¯ll eat dinner, okay? Or do you want to have a bite first?¡± she offered with a cheeky grin. ¡°Hahaha, thanks, Mom, but I¡¯ll wait.¡± He spent the next hour carelessly chatting with his mother and sister, who were poignantly avoiding the topic of his graduation and future. Soon enough, slightly earlier than expected, his father, an austere, brown-haired, tall man, was back home as well, and they were eating dinner. It was a hagel hagel-duck roasted over some qurum root. His dad shared stories from work, while his mother retold some tales about his sister, which, judging by her almost crying in protest, were clearly shared against her permission. This wasn¡¯t so bad. It was warm and cozy. He was just being stupid. Appreciating what he had was far better than weeping over unrealized dreams. With that thought, he pulled out the shiny certificate and placed it on the table. Everyone instantly turned silent. Aeroon Arch Academy Graduation Certificate. Year 7. When presented like this, it almost looked like something to be proud of. Mark Afronte, the twenty-one-year-old grade seven Aeroon Arch Academy graduate. An impressive thing to add to a resume. But the full course went on for ten years. An early graduation¡­ That was a euphemism. Grade seven was rather impressive. Only around 6 percent of all the candidates made it that far. A thought that did nothing to assuage his bitterness. His father got up and knelt on one knee beside him, placing a firm hand on Mark¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Son,¡± he said, ¡°you have everything to be proud of. I won¡¯t tell you about all the people you¡¯re ahead of, but I will remind you of one thing¡ªwe¡¯ve made it damn far if we¡¯re thinking of crying with news like this.¡± That got a chuckle out of Mark, and he nodded slightly. ¡°No, I mean it,¡± his father added. ¡°Had someone told me ten years ago that I¡¯d be sending both my kids to the academy and that my son would graduate in the seventh year, I would have passed out.¡± ¡°Stop,¡± he said, laughing but clearly trying to stave tears away. It was only then that he realized what he¡¯d just heard. ¡°Wait, what!?¡± His family shot him their best shit-eating grins as Sarah adopted a mock-arrogant expression. ¡°What can I say?¡± she jokingly asked. ¡°I guess I¡¯ll have to pull the ten instead.¡± ¡°Oh my God,¡± he said as he got up, rushing over to hug his sister. ¡°Hey, let go¡ª¡± She prepared to push him away but held herself back, gently caressing his hair instead. The rest of the evening was much merrier, and he eventually retreated to his room, feeling quite satisfied. He put his hand on the doorknob, turned it, and went inside. The door creaked slightly and swiftly revealed the room he had spent little time in. The size made him feel uncomfortable. It was far bigger than the room in his dorm. There was a bathroom, its entrance slightly to the right of his emperor-sized bed. After getting ready, he went to sleep. Or, at least, he tried to. The tall ceiling looked like it was spinning above, and his heart beat unnaturally fast. No matter how often he closed his eyes, he felt compelled to open them. He shifted from left to right and back repeatedly, unable to stop his mind from running at Mach 10. He went into the toilet and stared at his reflection; it appeared foreign. The firm, well-trained young man with a fire burning in his eyes was nowhere to be seen, leaving a despondent, disheveled failure in his stead. No matter how many times he washed his face, he couldn¡¯t rinse off the shame. So he went back to bed. He felt pain behind his eyes, and finally, he could no longer hold them back. Tears rushed down his face, and he whimpered. Ah, shit. I guess I¡¯ll just cry it out and go to sleep was what he thought, but it wasn¡¯t meant to be. The cracks spread, and all the emotions he had been forcing down came flooding out. His crying soon turned to sobs, and it wasn¡¯t long until his mother knocked on the door. ¡°Mark!? Mark, is that you? Are you okay!?¡± ¡°G-G-Go¡ªGo away, M-Mom,¡± he barely managed to eke out. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± his father said from the other side. His mother whispered something in turn, and his dad yelled. ¡°No, I¡¯m going in!¡± The door opened. ¡°Mark!¡± his father called as he rushed forward. ¡°Is everything all right!?¡± ¡°J-Just clo-close the¡­ the¡­ door, please,¡± he told them, pulling the blankets over his head to hide. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. His father wasn¡¯t having it, though, and moments later, the blankets were off, revealing the blubbering mass of misery beneath. ¡°Come here,¡± his father said, lifting him up. ¡°It¡¯s okay.¡± He was extremely muscular, but now, with his curled-up shoulders and bent back, he appeared smaller than he had for a long, long time. ¡°I¡¯m¡ªI¡¯m a failure, D-Dad,¡± he said. ¡°Don¡¯t give me that¡ª¡± ¡°No, I-I am. I was so, so close to passing, I fucked up. I fucked it-it all up. Everything. N-Now, my friends. I¡¯m¡ªI¡¯m¡ªI¡¯m not going to see them again, Dad. I¡¯m a-a failure. They¡¯re just stra-strangers to m-me now.¡± There wasn¡¯t much left to say. He supposed that even his parents felt it was undeniable. His mother and father, seated on his left and right, held him until he finally calmed down. ¡°You¡¯ve worked hard for the last ten years,¡± his father said. ¡°Way more than I think any child should. Take a break. A year off, just make some new friends and have some fun, all right? It will all be waiting for you when you come back.¡± Of course. He was no longer at the forefront of his generation, either way. It was shameful that he¡¯d feel such relief at the opportunity to slack off, but he couldn¡¯t say no to his parents¡¯ kindness. ¡°O-Okay. Th-Thank you, Mom, Dad. I love you.¡± *** John sat out on the small balcony, sipping his thirteenth cup of tea and smoking the pipe he practically never extinguished. He was a greasy-looking man with a thick beard and long black hair. It had been a while since he became the resident balcony clochard of this neighborhood. For some time already, he hadn¡¯t moved his eyes off the neighboring building. Specifically, he hadn¡¯t stopped looking at the second-floor apartment where his target resided. Target: Freddy Stern. 21 years old. Freshly ascended. Resident of the 19th district. Unemployed. No family members known to be alive. Mission: Hospitalize the target and retrieve all vestiges and/or remnants in his apartment without making direct contact. Easy enough, he thought back when he accepted the mission. The stage was set. The moment that kid left his building, John would use a subtle long-range spell to shift the ground beneath his target¡¯s feet and then break his leg, arm, or something when he fell. It would be a little weird that an able-bodied twenty-one-year-old randomly tripped in broad daylight and broke a limb over nothing, but it was just believable enough to not trigger any serious investigation. There were a few problems, though. First, this was a mission by an anonymous client. Now, John was willing to do some nasty shit, but he rarely accepted requests without knowing who it was from. Too risky. But with the amount of money this client was offering? In the form of advance payment, at that? Shit, he¡¯d suck dick for this much, and he wasn¡¯t even sure whether he was joking when he thought that. The second problem was the nature of the mission. This wasn¡¯t some high-level target, and someone who could offer that much money should be able to waltz in and take care of some no-name like this themselves. There was a risk that this involved another high-profile party. But, as they said: no risk, no reward. So that wasn¡¯t a dealbreaker. Now, the third issue was the one that was screwing him the hardest. It had been over a week since this kid last left the building. The only reason he could even confidently say the young man was still in there was because of the Netherecho. Wisps, depending on the thickness of the physical object they made contact with, had a chance to either bounce off or slip through to the other side. For most apartments here, the same way they had wisps fluttering in, they had wisps fluttering out. That wasn¡¯t the case with this kid¡¯s apartment. Meaning? He was in there and gathering them. And fuck was this stupid bastard¡¯s sleep schedule messed up. John was used to stakeouts, but this was just absurd. There was a possibility that the kid knew he was being hunted. This meant that John had to constantly keep an eye out, getting even less sleep than his target. At some point, he had to swap to tea instead of coffee since he was drinking so much, he nearly shit his pants. When is this fucker going to¡ªHis thoughts were interrupted when he spotted something in the corner of his vision. A carriage was driving down the streets¡ªnot just any carriage, but a floating one, entirely black, with shaded windows and all that. That was a rare sight, even in the 25th district. And here, it was something that made his stomach drop, especially as the carriage slowed down and parked right in front of his target¡¯s building. A pale-skinned woman stepped out. She wore a watermelon-pink pillbox hat over her cerulean-blue pompadour and exhibited an extravagant golden dress as she walked into the building, followed by three bodyguards in black suits. The instant he spotted the woman, the pipe fell out of his mouth, scattering ashes over the balcony floor. He just barely stopped the tea from suffering the same fate. The odds of this being a coincidence were nonexistent. ¡°Well then,¡± he said as he got up, scratching behind his ear and pulling the underwear out of his ass. ¡°I guess I¡¯ll be returning the advance payment.¡± *** Freddy sat curled up in his blanket, holding Basics of Gathering and reading through it for the god-knew-what time. There is no need to rush. These words had become something of a prayer, and every time he uttered them, the near-constant anxiety subsided just a bit. He repeated this phrase over and over, and eventually, he was fully convinced of the fact. And now? It had been over a week since the last time he left the apartment. Besides going to the toilet, of course. And even that was due to the lack of convenient bottles and jars. At first, he had deluded himself into believing he just had no reason to leave. Given that the last of the food he¡¯d had was eaten two days ago, it was long past the time for him to admit that it was simply utter bullshit. Well, technically, he did not have any reasons to leave, apart from the ones he ignored, of course, but it was only natural that he¡¯d start finally looking for some. Perhaps somewhere to socialize, maybe a place to properly gather, just possibly looking for ways to find employment now that he was an arch, maybe look for a trainer, or join some sort of discipleship or mercenary group and delve into passages, but no. He had the thought to do it¡ªnot just once, either, but every time his mantra came in clutch. There is no need to rush, he thought again, pushing all those plans back indefinitely. So he opened the damn guide again. He read through it countless times already without even skipping the boring parts. Finally concluding that reading through it again was a waste of time, he closed it and placed it on the bed. Then he focused, and soon he was inside his ethercosm. The star in the center shone just a bit brighter now, and it was accompanied by four blue specks orbiting it. He focused on one, and it appeared before him. From up close, it looked like a spherical cage of runes, void of anything within. This was an ether shell, or rather, a stage zero ability core. And what ability did it hold? He left the ethercosm and lifted his finger. With a bit of focus, water materialized right in front of his raised digit and squirted out, splashing on his fridge. It was the Squirt spell. Using it left him feeling somewhat empty and as if a cold breeze had blown over his heart and liver. The essence expenditure was a little harsh on that one since it materialized water. It wasn¡¯t long until the liquid on his fridge vanished; it didn¡¯t just evaporate; it was gone for good, reverting back into essence, which seeped through the fabric of space and disappeared. His second ability was promptly displayed when he swung a hand down in a karate chop. Nothing noticeable happened outwardly. Or at all, really. This was the Flowing Strike technique. It was an attack meant to add extra momentum to his swings by moving the water in his body. It preferred specific movements, which comprised the Flowing Rain martial arts style. Next up was a move he didn¡¯t have the space to demonstrate. The Frog Leap movement technique. It utilized hydraulic pressure to force one¡¯s body into a jump. And finally, the fourth shell. He lay down and relaxed. Soon enough, all the water in his body flowed much more smoothly, from the cellular level to how his blood circulated. He could only maintain this for a few seconds, and soon enough, those seconds passed. This was the Water Body tempering technique. It was meant to be a tempering technique, but in reality, it didn¡¯t temper shit. It did make him feel damn good, though. For a few minutes after using it, he almost felt well-slept. This was how he imagined people who could afford to go to a spa or get a massage felt. While these abilities appeared to be really boring and weak, in reality, they were even more boring and even weaker than they appeared to be. Because that was it. He was out of essence for today, and until he recovered it, he wouldn¡¯t be using any of them again. This would become less and less of a problem the stronger he became, naturally, but that wasn¡¯t going to happen any time soon in an environment as poor as this. Gone were the days of the vestige slaughter, where he picked ripe ether fruits as he wished. Now, he was limited to a starvation diet of maybe five an hour, if lucky. It would soon be time. He had to go buy some food. The ¡°fasting¡± he was doing was becoming less and less of a valid excuse by the minute. He was scared. Creepy shit in the Netherecho, random passage breaks, scummy bastards abusing their power to harm him. The world was a perilous place full of terrible things. Rationally speaking, he knew that catastrophe wouldn¡¯t strike the literal instant he left the building, but he couldn¡¯t shake off the nasty paranoia he felt. Suddenly, he heard a knocking coming from the door. ¡°Hmm?¡± Who could need something from him this early in the morning? Oh crap, he thought. It¡¯s the landlord. That bastard probably came to see whether he was alive. He didn¡¯t mind keeping that piece of shit waiting as he took his sweet time putting on his clothes. More knocking came. It was a bit creepy, actually. It felt strange. It was too¡­ polite? Fancy, almost. Both times, it was three perfectly timed knocks, and they sounded practically identical. Nobody he knew knocked like that. And he did not know enough people to write it off as just forgetting about someone. A strange sense of anxiety bubbled within. Should he ignore it? His cheapskate landlord only installed doors without spyholes, so if he wanted to see who it was, he had to greet whoever was out there. Eventually, he decided to check it out, putting his faith in the civilized knocking. There was no thug in the world who knocked like that. Once he was dressed, he walked over to the door and opened it. Chapter 10 - Madame Morleppe When Freddy opened the door and saw who was standing before it, he instantly slammed it closed. It was a reflex reaction. For a few moments, he simply stared blankly at the peeling paint on the old wooden door. Then, he started shaking. His heart raged in his chest, and sweat pooled all over his body as he realized what he had just done. Holy shit! he screamed internally. It¡¯s Madame Morleppe! Holy fuck! I just slammed the door in her face! She was the biggest late-night talk show host in the entire country, and he spent many a night shift watching her on the BC. So that begged the question¡ªwhat the hell was she doing here? Fear of offending her far overwhelmed his sense of shame as he rushed to open the door again. ¡°Greetings, Madame. I am so sorry,¡± he apologized as he exited the apartment, keeping his head down. ¡°My living space is quite¡­ humble, so I hid it out of reflex.¡± She was a head taller than him, but even if she wasn¡¯t, he was sure that standing in front of her would make him feel minuscule. Her three bodyguards wore shaded sunglasses and neat black suits, standing a little behind her. ¡°You are Freddy Stern, I surmise?¡± she asked, her crystal-clear voice even more beautiful in person. ¡°Yes,¡± he answered. ¡°Good,¡± she said as she turned around. ¡°Follow me.¡± ¡°Uh, I, uhm¡­¡± ¡°What is it, darling?¡± ¡°Wh-Why?¡± he asked, mind uncomprehending. She merely smiled at that. ¡°Come, and you will find out.¡± Well, that sure fucking cleared things up, he thought. Spotting his hesitation, she shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m not going to drag you out, darling. Will you come out¡­ or have I wasted my time?¡± ¡°I,¡± he said, waving his hands around until a finger finally landed on the door. ¡°I have to, uh¡­ I have to lock the door.¡± She stared at him flatly for a few seconds. ¡°All right, then,¡± she said. ¡°Feel free to do so.¡± ¡°Okay¡­ I¡­ Just a second.¡± He hopped into his apartment, retrieved his keys, stepped out, locked the door, and was soon following after Madame and her entourage. He didn¡¯t know why she was here, what she wanted, or what the fuck was going on. Part of him was reluctant to follow along. What if she had bad intentions? She was certainly an eccentric person, and her whims weren¡¯t something he should take lightly. But refusing her invitation wouldn¡¯t spare him anything. In fact, offending her was certainly not a wise choice. Although she kept to her line of work, that didn¡¯t change the fact that she was a Lord. They stepped out of the building and walked into a floating limousine, which was, as expected, bigger inside but not by much. Enough to make it comfortably spacious but not enough to put too much distance between the people sitting there. To him, who was sitting opposite a figuratively massive celebrity and next to her three literally huge bodyguards, a bit of extra space would have been welcome. While he wanted to know what was happening, he decided to be patient. His heart was beating out of his chest, and no matter how hard he worked to keep himself calm, he was getting sweaty. Thankfully, he hadn¡¯t been wearing these clothes while shut in, so they were still relatively clean. He could see outside the shaded window, and they appeared to be heading toward the¡­ Of course. The 25th district. She certainly wouldn¡¯t be taking him to the ghettos. They flew over the Bastard Barricade as if it weren¡¯t even there and then proceeded to¡ª Oh, hell no! he screamed internally. Even before the Bastard Barricade, there had been plenty of places in the 25th district that were walled off to outsiders. Such as any of the floating islands or buildings. Which seemed to be precisely where they were heading. Between the fact that they were flying into the goddamn air and going to a very upper-class center, he felt right about ready to throw up. Luckily, his stomach was as empty as it had ever been, and it wasn¡¯t a particularly long flight. Soon enough, the flying carriage stopped, and the door opened. Madame gestured to her guards, who were the first to get out. Once they were out, she got up, and he mimicked her, unsure what to do. She stepped right in front of him, smiling gently. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, my dear,¡± she said soothingly. ¡°I will explain everything you need to know.¡± ¡°Oh¡­ all right.¡± ¡°First, relax. We are heading to a casual venue. It is not all that different from any regular cafes or bars you visit.¡± Ah, yes. From all my regular cafe and bar visits. Yes, he sarcastically thought to himself. But her words did ease his anxiety a bit. Maybe it was just her soothing voice. ¡°But,¡± she added, ¡°there is one thing you do need to know.¡± Freddy perked up, but before he could ask what it was, she firmly grabbed his right hand and lifted it into the air. ¡°You need to know how to properly escort a lady.¡± He was bewildered by the sheer force of her grip, but her expert guiding hand made it difficult to fail to follow her guidance. ¡°Posture straight,¡± she said as she placed a finger on his back, and a zap traveled into it, causing his muscles to stiffen in a way that simulated perfect posture. That was right. It was difficult to fail when he didn¡¯t have to do anything. ¡°Left hand gently balled up into a fist, thumb over the middle and ring fingers,¡± she continued, ¡°and left arm placed behind your back. Then, you lift your right arm into the air and open your palm. Head held high.¡± Her guidance was followed by gentle taps of the tip of her index finger and pulses of essence that gently moved his body into position. Once he stood the way she desired him to, she placed her hand on his right palm, gently this time. Her touch was embarrassingly overstimulating, and he hoped he wouldn¡¯t pop a boner. Thankfully, the stress of the situation seemed to have made that an impossibility. She guided him on how to walk, which was to say that as long as he was holding her hand, she would do the walking for him by using her essence to move his muscles. He couldn¡¯t lie to himself. This was freaky. And honestly, it was beginning to seriously hurt. ¡°Are you all right?¡± she asked him, breaking him out of his thoughts. ¡°Huh?¡± he asked dumbly. ¡°No, I-I,¡± he stuttered. ¡°I¡¯m okay.¡± Her contemplative gaze scoured his form. ¡°This technique is quite intensive. If you so wish, I can ease the influence and let you do the work on your own. Ah, but,¡± she said with a slight smile. ¡°Don¡¯t blame me if you embarrass yourself.¡± After staring at her for a long second, he laughed a bit. ¡°Haha, sorry. Yeah, I¡­ I admit it¡¯s a little intense, but I don¡¯t mind.¡± A delicate eyebrow quirked up at that. ¡°That¡¯s the spirit, young man,¡± she said affirmingly. ¡°Well then, shall we proceed?¡± ¡°Yeah, uh, lead the way!¡± he accepted as enthusiastically as possible. She stared at him flatly and chuckled. ¡°Darling, you¡¯re meant to escort me.¡± ¡°Oh, yeah, sorry. Uh¡­ Let¡¯s go.¡± And with that, they stepped out of the carriage. Admiring the floating structures from afar was one thing, but seeing them in person was different. The sky island had a miniature forest planted in a ring around it, exclusively growing scattered golden trees with thin, royal red vines hanging off every branch. Their path was lined with rainbow-colored tiles shaped from fancy crystals and shiny metals. They were walking toward what could only be described as three buildings twisting around a center, with surprisingly thin bridges interconnecting them, some expanding into large platforms. In the middle, right between them, there was a massive, wood-plated open ground populated with occupied tables, and several floating platforms hovered above it, also carrying people on them. The three bodyguards stood in front, and with every step they took, the guests, who from a distance looked like a scattering of colorful ants, became more discernible. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. While a good deal was dressed in what even he recognized as relatively regular clothing, flashy, colorful, and violently ostentatious was the name of the game. In the center was a round bar, which seemed to be where the drinks were made. Just like any other cafe, now, is it!? he sarcastically mused in his mind. Although he should be feeling stressed to the breaking point, he actually thought he felt perfectly fine. Only then did he notice that his heart wasn¡¯t beating that fast anymore, likely due to whatever powers she was using on him. A short walk later, they stepped onto the wooden platform and strode forward. The others rather openly gawked at them, primarily focused on¡­ him? Was he just imagining it? The murmurs clarified that, indeed, he was the person of interest. Apparently, Madame was a regular here. Whoever she dragged here with her was usually the one people were looking at. A woman seated at a table they were passing by whispered to her friend, ¡°Hey, who is that? That¡¯s a pretty wild getup. Is he wearing poorcore?¡± Poorcore!? Bitch!? If it weren¡¯t for Madame¡¯s help, his low-class status would be much more readily apparent. Conversely, because there was no way to tell off his behavior alone, people assumed that he was intentionally dressed to look poor in some sort of, at least in his opinion, utterly tasteless fashion statement. He spotted something unusual to the side of them. There was a section where the floating platforms were boarded. Many of them were missing from their spots, but some of the ones left behind were¡­ ugly. Just plain gross to look at. One particularly nasty offender was a neon blue and pink platform plated in gold. It was an eyesore to look at. An opinion that he luckily kept to himself as Madame took him to that platform and then boarded it. The guards were left on standby while the two of them sat down, a medium-sized table between them. She put her card through a scanner, and the gaudy saucer took off, leaving them floating alone in the air. It rose considerably higher than any of the surrounding ones, and it was definitely not by coincidence. Some form of shimmer flickered around them for a moment, causing him to jump in surprise as his every hair stood on end. ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± she snickered. ¡°That¡¯s just a privacy barrier.¡± That was¡­ Well, if he was being honest, he wasn¡¯t sure whether he really liked that privacy. The fact that they were so high in the air wasn¡¯t particularly fun, either. On top of that, his muscles felt sore as hell. Madame took her hat off and relaxed, although her ¡°relaxed¡± was still infinitely more dignified than whatever he was doing. Leaning over, she pulled a pen and a small tablet from a hidden section on the side of the table. ¡°Tell me, darling, what do you wish to eat and drink?¡± Far too close did he come to saying something like orange juice and pizza, which was his idea of fancy food. Luckily, he had stopped himself in time, instead resorting to the ol¡¯ reliable¡ª¡°I¡¯ll have whatever Madame recommends.¡± She chuckled much louder than he expected. ¡°Oh, you¡¯re going to regret that,¡± she teased, making him wince. Was she about to order something gross? The joke was on her, though, because he was literally starving. Even if she put half-eaten carrion before him, he¡¯d probably at least take a bite. Once done writing their order down on the tablet, Madame turned and stared at him quietly. Swallowing hard, he finally felt that it was appropriate to ask the question eating away at him, ¡°Madame¡­ Why, uh, I mean, what¡ª¡± ¡°Are you familiar with the code C-000421?¡± she asked, interrupting him. ¡°Uh, code?¡± he inquired, bewildered. ¡°I, uh, most certainly am not.¡± ¡°That is the code for the passage realm you¡¯ve encountered.¡± Those words were like a slap to his face, and the instant she uttered them, he already had something of an idea why he was there. Rather than ask anything, he simply waited for her to continue. ¡°Not only is that the most dangerous realm we¡¯ve ever discovered, but it is also a hundred times larger than New Earth. We have found many entrances to it, but most were already inside a passage realm, usually only appearing past the fifth step,¡± she said, leaning closer. ¡°This is the first direct entrance to it to appear in our realm. And you, Mr. Stern, were the first to find it,¡± she declared, offering to shake his hand. ¡°Welcome to the history books.¡± That was a lot to take in. He shook her hand absent-mindedly, unable to find a way to appropriately react to hearing news like this. To begin with, what did this even mean for him? Although he wanted to ask her a million things, as the nature of their meeting finally became apparent, he knew he wouldn¡¯t get the chance to do that. This was an interview. And he wasn¡¯t the one asking the questions. As if on cue, she pulled her hand back and settled, adjusting her dress as she got comfortable in the chair. ¡°So, Freddy, why don¡¯t you tell me something about yourself?¡± ¡°Wow, this is surreal,¡± he said, unable to keep the smile off his face. He took a breath and asked her in turn. ¡°Where do I start?¡± ¡°Just tell me your life story,¡± she requested, showing a girly excitement to get things started. He noticed that she didn¡¯t have any sort of notebook or recording device. ¡°Do you¡­ Do you need to write anything down?¡± Rolling her eyes, she waved him off. ¡°Honey, who do you think I am?¡± ¡°Oh, yeah, I¡¯m sorry¡­¡± He thought about it a bit and then got started. ¡°My name is, as you know, Freddy Stern. I¡¯m, uh¡­ I¡¯m twenty-one years old. I was abandoned at birth, and for the first nine years of my life, I grew up in an orphanage in the 26th district. I was then adopted by¡­ well, a couple. They weren¡¯t the best people in the world, but they knew how to have fun. ¡°To me, they were never really parents but more like much older friends. They had a drug problem¡­ among others. One day, at twelve years old, I woke up, and they were just gone. The landlord kicked me out after two weeks since I couldn¡¯t pay the rent, and I didn¡¯t want to go back to the orphanage, so I lived on the streets for a few days until I found a job. Eventually, I was hired at the warehouse and worked there until I turned seventeen, which was when I was moved to the cash register. I was employed there until recently, and then, when I became an arch, I was fired.¡± Having mostly been nodding along until this point, she switched gears. ¡°Tell me, Freddy, in one word, how would you describe your social life?¡± After a moment, he settled on a pretty good one. ¡°Desolate.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± she purred with a smile. ¡°A lone wolf, I see? What about your work life?¡± ¡°One word again?¡± He checked. ¡°No, just tell me about it.¡± ¡°Okay, uh.¡± He paused as he thought for a moment. ¡°I worked for twelve hours a day.¡± ¡°And you did¡­?¡± ¡°Yeah, I¡­ was the cashier, mostly, and the most interesting thing that ever really happened to me was encounters with annoying customers.¡± ¡°All right, all right¡­ And what about your free time?¡± ¡°Either chores or studying.¡± ¡°Studying?¡± she intoned inquisitively. ¡°Any specific fields?¡± ¡°Just general stuff. Didn¡¯t really go to school, so I had to do it all myself.¡± ¡°Uh-huh.¡± Then, with a cheeky grin, she popped a big question, ¡°What about your sex life?¡± ¡°Yet to be born,¡± he admitted jokingly. That made her frown. ¡°You¡¯re kidding?¡± ¡°What?¡± he asked, frowning in turn. ¡°Nothing, I just¡­ Well, you know, I just thought that¡­ You know what, never mind.¡± For some reason, those words vaguely offended him. What, did she think poor people went at it like animals? She asked a few other questions, and no matter how hard she dug, all she kept hitting was stone. His life until now, other than his turbulent childhood, was fascinatingly uninteresting. At some point, a small, floating disc hovered over their table, carrying their food. He was already too overwhelmed to be blown away by this, but the stuff the object carried most certainly roused his attention. So this is what she meant¡­ he thought with a shake of his head. It was seafood. More specifically, it was an oyster found only in a specific passage realm. One was meant to eat them by poking a sharp needle through the small, hard-to-find opening, which killed them and caused the shell to open. He had seen these on a cooking show recently, so he would be spared the embarrassment of not knowing how to consume them. There was also a glass of deep brown liquid, likely whiskey, but given the nature of this place, it could be anything. Madame was looking at him with a slight glint of glee in her eyes. Then, with a teasing smile, she grabbed a piece of the pizza in front of her and took a smug bite. How childish. But at least it fit with the persona she put up for the world to see. It was naive, however. She had underestimated the power of spending one¡¯s life before a broadcasting crystal. And not only did he know how to eat them, he also had plenty of experience eating crap far worse than this. So, with little hesitation, he stabbed the shiny needle into one of the shells¡ª ¡ªand almost dropped it. A faint pulse of¡­ something, almost akin to a wave of warm liquid, coursed through his body. It felt delightfully soothing, and he jolted at the unexpected stimulus. The oyster squirmed, and the shell opened. Putting the weird sensation aside, he slurped it up. Although the texture was rather unpleasant, it tasted pretty damn good. A savory creaminess filled his mouth, and he raised his eyebrows in pleasant surprise. The disappointment was readily visible in her expression. Doing his best not to smile in satisfaction, he ignored it, washing his meal with a gulp of the drink. He just barely prevented himself from spitting it all over the table. This wasn¡¯t just strong; it was intense. A strong burning sensation spread through his mouth and throat, and tears rushed to his eyes. It was accompanied by a veritable flood of essence, drastically boosting the recovery of his minuscule reserves. ¡°How do you like the garewood spirit?¡± she asked, amusement back on her face. ¡°It is¡­ good,¡± he eked out. And he meant it, at least partially. It took some getting used to, but even as it was, he could understand why such a fancy place served the drink. It was far less bitter than the wine he drank the other day at Sharon¡¯s. They continued their meal, and he could swear that he felt that same pulse with every stab. It wasn¡¯t long until a thought crossed his mind. Don¡¯t tell me¡­ Is that my talent activating? he wondered. Against¡­ oysters? That confirmed that it didn¡¯t apply to only ¡°enemies,¡± or, at least, that the meaning of ¡°enemy¡± wasn¡¯t as specific as it could have been. ¡°Is everything all right?¡± she asked him, noticing that he was a little absent-minded. ¡°Oh!¡± He flinched. ¡°Uh, yeah, I¡­ I apologize.¡± They finished eating their meal, and the interview continued. She asked him to retell the entire story of how he encountered the passage, starting from wherever he thought it got interesting. He began the story with how he finished his shift. Madame listened to the entire thing, maintaining her professional composure and asking him questions as needed¡ªuntil he shared that he killed a monster with a can of beans. ¡°Pfff!¡± She snorted. ¡°You did what!? Are you lying to me?¡± ¡°I uh¡ª¡± he tried, but¡ª ¡°You know what, I don¡¯t even care if you¡¯ve made that up,¡± she declared. ¡°No offense, darling, but we¡¯ll have to make some stuff up anyway.¡± He continued the retelling, and nothing else piqued her interest, not even the fact that he manifested the vestige. She asked him what it did, and he rushed to explain that he traded it for another. ¡°Hmm¡­ To keep things simple, we¡¯ll just say that you manifested that second one. And I believe that is all for the time being. Now!¡± she said as she pulled a paper from behind her and placed it before him. ¡°I would like you to sign this contract.¡± Chapter 11 - It’s All Real So¡­ to sum it up: I am not allowed to say anything about what I¡¯ve witnessed on the day of the break to anyone¡ªeven mental health professionals¡ªwithout Madame¡¯s permission; I have to roid up for the next six months to look good for the interview, and finally, I don¡¯t get paid. Was he willing to sacrifice his body and mind to make progress? He was hesitant, yes, but not unwilling. That was exactly what he¡¯d been doing for a long time already. It was only a matter of it being worth doing for what he would gain in turn. But the problem was that it didn¡¯t seem to be much. To sign the contract, he would have to sign off on all forms of royalties, and there was no clause about payment. He had read the contract over several times, and while he was no lawyer, the contract was simple to interpret, even for him, so there was little risk of fine print catching him by surprise later. But no money? ¡°Madame¡­¡± he said cautiously. ¡°What is it, dear?¡± she asked, twirling the straw in the cocktail glass with one finger. ¡°Need me to clarify something?¡± ¡°No, that¡¯s¡­ Well¡­ I¡¯m sorry, but I¡ª¡± Asking made him so nervous that he felt like throwing up, but if there was anything that could get him to overcome his anxiety, it was money. ¡°Do I really get no compensation?¡± She looked thoroughly confused for a moment but quickly regained her composure. ¡°Excuse me?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve read the contract and don¡¯t see anything claiming I will receive any money for participating. Did I, uh¡­ misinterpret a part of it?¡± Madame looked as if a small fly was trying to get into her eyes as she blinked the bewilderment away. ¡°Freddy, darling, what are you talking about? Do you understand what being a guest on my show entails?¡± ¡°Well, yeah, but¡ª¡± ¡°Oh, please, you are clueless. First, let me clarify something for you,¡± she said, steeling her gaze. ¡°Getting a spot on my show is not something one can buy, and it certainly isn¡¯t something you¡¯ll be getting paid to do. This is not a matter of cost. It is a matter of brand. If you¡¯re concerned about compensation, well, I¡¯ll give you a temporary place to live while¡ª¡± ¡°Sold!¡± he said and prepared to sign the contract before she changed her mind. That would be enough for him to stay financially stable for at least another half a year, and according to the contract, he¡¯d be provided a gym membership and a personal trainer, not to mention free steroids. If she covered the cost of rent on top of that, this gave him the perfect opportunity to¡ª ¡°I¡¯m not finished, dear.¡± ¡°What!? Really!?¡± he asked, stars shining in his eyes. ¡°Pfft!¡± She snorted. ¡°While your naivete is adorable, it would do you well to listen carefully before throwing yourself headfirst into this agreement.¡± He winced at that, crumpling a bit into himself as he nodded, waiting for her to continue. ¡°I¡¯ll simplify it for you, dear¡ªthe cost of living and everything you are expected to do will be fully covered.¡± ¡°Oh my God, that¡¯s like¡­¡± That was a lot of stuff. Maybe he could even push it a bit. Would she get angry if he ate three meals a day? He at least hoped the temporary place to live would have a toilet he wouldn¡¯t have to share with anyone. Madame wasn¡¯t finished yet, however. ¡°Now, let me get to the good part,¡± she teased, taking a long sip of her drink while keeping him waiting. ¡°Many people will know who you are after appearing on my show. Depending on how you handle that attention, it could be worth more than any sum of money I¡¯d be willing to give. ¡°I, personally, don¡¯t believe in fate,¡± she declared. ¡°But that¡¯s just me. Tell me, dear, what do you think people will assume when they hear your story?¡± He paused at that and stared at the table. Although the question seemed leading, he decided to give her his honest answer rather than try and guess what she was aiming for. ¡°I think people will assume that I was lucky.¡± ¡°You¡¯re almost correct,¡± she said, smiling at him. ¡°Just one small detail¡ªthey won¡¯t assume that you were lucky¡­ ¡°They will assume that you are lucky.¡± *** ¡°You will be picked up tomorrow morning,¡± Madame declared as she dropped him off in front of his building. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about waking up early. My boys are good at moving people without waking them up. See you soon, my dear boy. Mwah!¡± she said, sending a kiss as she waved, the doors of the carriage closing as it took off into the air. Freddy stood there dazed for a long moment as he processed everything. His legs moved him into the building and up into his apartment while his mind wandered. He lay down on his bed, thoughts spinning endlessly. This was going to be his last day at this place. The creepy moving crew would apparently take him even if he wasn¡¯t awake to consent to it. It all suddenly felt so alien. On the one hand, this apartment had been his safe place, an escape from all the harsh realities of the outside. And, on the other hand, this was where he had been trapped all this time, slaving away for the faint hope of maybe ascending in his forties or fifties if he were lucky. He lightly slapped himself as he got up, heading to finish the last few chores he had before leaving. *** A knock sounded on his door, and he got up, paying the delivery girl as he took the food. Apparently, his rent would nearly double next month. A fact he had been thoroughly oblivious to until the moment he faced his landlord to tell him he would be leaving. That fucking asshole was probably waiting until the last week to notify the residents since he knew that most wouldn¡¯t be able to find another place to move to before having to pay the increased fee. Was that even legal? Maybe, but nobody here had the money to take legal action against him anyway. The beer-battered chicken tenders he was eating were far cheaper than the oysters he had, but they were much more filling and, in his opinion, far more delicious. A small part of him wanted to say goodbye to Sharon and James, but he felt too ashamed to do that. Also, what was he supposed to say? With what had happened between them, it might appear like he was bragging or rubbing it in. He finished his meal, bathed, and returned to his room, wondering what he would do for the rest of the day. ¡°Oh shit!¡± What about Bloodshed? ¡°Oh fuck!¡± Wait¡­ No¡­ Calm down. Thinking rationally, he didn¡¯t have to take the remnant with him. He was confident it was valuable and that having an obedient remnant wasn¡¯t common, but¡­ that thing was just too fucking creepy. Not to mention that he was deathly afraid of getting into trouble for being ¡°in possession¡± of something like that. He was concerned that he might have had to report its existence to someone and that failing to do so could get him into deep shit, kind of like illegally owning a firearm in the old world. There had been a time when making dubious decisions for uncertain gains was the right choice. That time had passed. But he wouldn¡¯t be doing something as stupid as telling someone about it. It was a personified ether construct, meaning it would never move from where he told it to stay. It couldn¡¯t. Ether constructs couldn¡¯t change their minds since they didn¡¯t have ¡°minds¡± to change. They had no free will or agency. Hell, they weren¡¯t even really alive. Thinking about it further, he quickly realized that where it was wasn¡¯t a half-bad place to hide it. It was improbable that anyone would discover it in the storage, and it wouldn¡¯t cause any trouble. He could always use the pretense of ¡°visiting Sharon and James¡± to get into the building and retrieve it if needed. With that, he was finally done with everything he had to do. He spent the rest of the day playing in the Netherecho, utterly unable to fall asleep. Between his dogshit sleep schedule and the anxiety keeping him awake, dawn arrived before sleep did. *** A far less luxurious carriage arrived the next day, boarded by the moving crew and Madame Morleppe¡¯s assistant. The crew comprised four people dressed in dirty-white uniforms¡ªthree people too many, really, as one of the men simply hopped inside and took out the chest, carrying it with supernatural strength. The assistant was a handsome, auburn-haired middle-aged man, or at least he appeared to be. It was impossible to tell what the actual age of an arch was by appearance alone. They all boarded the carriage, and another quasi-interview started. Matt, the assistant, kept asking random questions about his daily habits, and the more he asked, the more perplexed he grew. The target of his questions was equally bewildered by some of them. How frequently do I have sexual relations!? he recited inwardly. Didn¡¯t Madame tell him? Besides, wasn¡¯t habitual sex just something of a myth perpetuated by the film industry? There was no way that people just randomly had it all the time¡­ Yeah, that sort of stuff didn¡¯t just happen, no way. At least, not often. Well, maybe there were some people who did that. He totally wasn¡¯t just coping with the fact that he had zero action in his life. It wasn¡¯t long until the carriage stopped, and the people inside left. They parked in front of a small complex of buildings surrounded by a tidy patch of forest. The buildings themselves, of which there were twelve, were relatively ordinary but clean. The walls were mostly either a shade of gray or beige, and there were no floating parts. One building, the one placed in the center, was considerably taller than the others, reaching about twenty-five stories high, while the rest were all anywhere between ten and fifteen. Now that he got a closer look, this looked quite a bit like a place he walked by when he went to the bank. No, wait, this is that place, he suddenly realized. Huh. He had heard about it from a coworker once. It was a private neighborhood located in the 24th district. You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. The 24th district wasn¡¯t on the level of the twenty-fifth, not by a long shot, but it wasn¡¯t impoverished either¡ªfirmly middle class, with some middle-upper class outliers, such as this neighborhood, was where he would place it. The assistant took him to one of the shorter buildings. They walked by several cheerful adolescents on their way inside, and he was struck with a pang of anxiety upon hearing them giggling and chattering. Loud socialization like that always stressed him out for some reason. The hallways were squeaky clean, lined with neatly arranged patterned tiles and some well-maintained plants. Rather than walk up the stairs, the assistant took him to¡­ an elevator!? An elevator! Wow! He wasn¡¯t sure he¡¯d ever get to live in a building with one. Slight excitement wormed its way into his mind, and he massaged the back of his neck to relieve some tension. This was getting him unduly excited, and he forcefully restrained his expectations since he knew he would be disappointed if he let himself get too hopeful. The elevator didn¡¯t travel for long, and they exited on the third floor of the building. They turned right in the hallway, walked past three apartments, then turned right again, and stopped at the second door to the left. Freddy felt like there was¡­ an unordinary amount of space between the doors. Maybe there were more apartments, but their entrances were from the other side or something? The assistant pulled out a key and opened the lock. As the door pushed open, he swallowed. ¡°Ah, do you have something to pick up, sir?¡± he asked. That made sense. This was the assistant¡¯s apartment, and he was likely here to get something. ¡°Excuse me?¡± Matt said as he turned around and handed him the keys. ¡°No, we already have everything we need. Now come, I will give you a brief tour of your residence.¡± His heart pounded like a rabid dog trying to escape a cage. It did not get any calmer when they walked inside. A short, L-shaped hallway branched into a massive bedroom, a living room so big that he felt whatever the opposite of claustrophobic was, and even an entire, spacious kitchen. Every room had large windows along the walls, and judging by what he had seen from the outside when they arrived, they only let light through one way. There wasn¡¯t a single toilet, though. Because there were three! Three toilets! In one apartment!? One was in the living room, past a small tucked-in corner; the second was in the hallway; and the third was in his room. For a brief moment, he got paranoid that there were hidden cameras somewhere and that Madame was messing with him. That was quickly dispelled, however, since he knew damn well that she wasn¡¯t the type to do that. Or, at least, he desperately hoped. The fridge was filled to the brim with premade dishes best served cold. ¡°Since you¡¯ve said you do not know how to cook, we¡¯ve filled your fridge with premade food. If you wish, though, you can always order a meal through the tablet here,¡± he said as he pointed at a fully functional, massive tablet placed right next to the fridge. ¡°There is a menu in the drawer right next to the fridge, but it might take as long as twenty minutes for your food to arrive, though, so keep that in mind. Also, don¡¯t worry about the food going bad. There are preservation inscriptions in there, and if you ever express an interest in cooking, just let us know, and we¡¯ll supply you with fresh ingredients.¡± He had barely comprehended any of what he had just heard. His brain was still stuck on the first sentence. This man did, indeed, ask him whether he knew how to cook. Like, ten minutes ago. And in that short time, they, whoever they were, managed to stock the fridge with the appropriate food. The tour didn¡¯t get any less insane after that. Apparently, that suspicious black rectangle in the living room was actually a damn BC. His own personal BC that he could watch whatever he pleased on. There was also a surround sound system, one that stretched out throughout the entire apartment. ¡°You do not need to worry about the noise, Mr. Stern,¡± the assistant said. ¡°The apartment is fully sound-isolated.¡± He winked at him. ¡°Keep that in mind.¡± He was too bewildered to comprehend what the man meant by that. The toilets were all stocked with both a shower and a bath. The bedroom had a massive bed in it, as well as a gigantic wardrobe of clothes fit for his build. Not only that, but they came in several sizes, likely to account for his possible muscle growth, with even a section of female clothing in numerous sizes, the purpose of which was unknown to him. It was then that it struck him. ¡°Ah,¡± he yelped, the tiniest of hints of disappointment in his voice. ¡°When do I meet my roommates?¡± he asked the assistant. ¡°Your roommates, sir?¡± the man asked. ¡°You do not have any. Unless you express a desire to have someone move in with you.¡± So¡­ he was alone here? Now that he thought of it, there was only one room. What the hell were the women¡¯s clothes for, then? The moving crew brought the chest in, and they asked him where he wanted the items to go. Most of it was placed in a small storage room in his bedroom, except for a few books on a shelf in the living room. And with that, the tour was over. ¡°Feel free to settle for the next few days,¡± the assistant said. ¡°We¡¯ll see each other again Wednesday at noon, three days from now. Until then, I highly recommend you get acquainted with the neighborhood.¡± The man handed him a small card. ¡°You can use this to pay for any goods or services here, but keep in mind that it is limited to a budget of a thousand dollars a day. Naturally, anything you don¡¯t spend will accumulate. Now, if you have no further questions, I¡¯ll be on my way.¡± He merely nodded absent-mindedly, brain failing miserably to catch up with everything that had happened. The assistant left, leaving him alone. He turned around, apprehensively eyeing the hallway. This just didn¡¯t feel real. From one room to another, he bounced around for almost an hour, too scared to touch anything out of fear of it vanishing before his eyes. Eventually, he settled for sitting on the bed. The neatly arranged, high-quality sheets and blanket felt too sacred for him to disturb, so he just sat there in the corner, heart beating out of his chest. As he calmed down, he eventually braved the fall as he lay in the very corner of the gigantic bed. It was about 3 p.m., according to the massive clock on the wall. Nobody would judge him for taking a nap, right? Eventually, his accumulated fatigue won out, and he fell asleep. *** When he woke up, he felt incredible. That had been some of the best sleep he had ever had. Some of the longest, too, since it was 7 a.m. the day after. And now that he had woken up, he was finally confident. It¡¯s all real. So he got up and showered. The water there wasn¡¯t just pretending to be hot, and he turned it up so high that it almost burned him. He stepped into the wardrobe. There, fingers ran through the silky, smooth material of a blindingly white shirt as he examined it. Instead, he picked a blue hoodie and torn jeans so soft that it was hard to believe they were made from denim. After he changed, he ate a cold chicken salad from the fridge. It was goddamn delicious. He moved to the living room and turned on the BC, but he couldn¡¯t sit for long. He took a piss in the toilet, choosing the closest one. He went to his bedroom, then the wardrobe, then the bathroom, then the living room, kitchen, bedroom, kitchen, bedroom, wardrobe¡ª What did that man say again? ¡°The apartment is fully sound-isolated, right?¡± he said out loud as he started running. Then he started cackling. Then he started screaming. ¡°Holy fucking shit!¡± he yelled, his eyes shining with glee. ¡°It¡¯s all real! Fuck yeah, baby! Wooooooooo!¡± He swapped the channel on the BC until he found a music channel, and he turned it up a bit¡ªnot too much since he wasn¡¯t confident that the sound isolation was perfect. The next twenty minutes were spent with him jumping around like an excited kid. And just like an energetic toddler, he was quickly worn out. So he sat on the couch, pop music still loudly blaring in the background. ¡°It¡¯s all real.¡± And this time, it was followed by tears. ¡°Oh¡­ fuck, it¡¯s all real, man.¡± But it wasn¡¯t free. While the contract put it very nicely, it didn¡¯t change the fact that he would be put on ¡°chemical assistance¡± to achieve the look he needed for the interview. He was no endocrinologist, but he knew damn well that steroids could mess him up. Still, weirdly, he almost preferred that. There needed to be some catch, some damn evidence that this wasn¡¯t simply too good to be true. Besides, they would probably use some fancy concoction with minimal side effects. He could live with that. After crying his damn heart out and rubbing his thighs so much that his palms turned red, he finally relaxed. He went to the toilet to wash his face and then visited the wardrobe. He planned to head outside a bit, and while his current clothes were much nicer than anything he had worn, they were just a tad too casual for him. Dressed in a loose, long-sleeved black T-shirt, plain, untorn blue jeans, and some cool-ass sneakers, he headed to the door. Every step felt heavier than the last, and he hesitated to open it. The doorknob might as well have been glowing red-hot in his eyes, and it didn¡¯t take long for him to figure out why. He was scared shitless of going outside alone, but he forced himself to grab it. While he knew damn well that he wouldn¡¯t have the privilege of shutting himself in, using that as an excuse to stay inside while he could, wasn¡¯t valid. He had been granted an opportunity. If he failed to put his best foot forward, then the sacrifices he was willing to make wouldn¡¯t be ones of resolve but of ignorance of the consequences. The doorknob turned, and the door was pulled open. It was finally time for him to go outside. *** Mark carried a gigantic bag as he exited the elevator and stepped onto the third floor. While he could have hired someone to bring it over, the discipline beaten into him in the academy wouldn¡¯t go away so easily. He turned right twice and approached the door to his apartment¡ªor rather, to his family¡¯s old apartment. This small neighborhood in the 24th district was where his family used to live, and it was the place where he decided to spend, at the very least, a part of his year off. Reliving the past to ground himself was one of the best ways he could come to terms with all that¡¯s happened. It would give him a perspective on how far he¡¯d come. The doors of the neighboring apartment to the right opened, and a young man stepped out. As far as he remembered, that place used to be empty, so this was someone new. He seemed¡­ weak. Incredibly so. After being surrounded by monsters for so long, he had forgotten what regular people looked like. That wasn¡¯t fair, though. Although he felt the incredibly faint presence of a one-star archhuman, judging by his build and body language, this person was clearly a civilian. He wasn¡¯t the type to be overtly judgmental. Also, this was his first neighbor. It was only a matter of time until they got acquainted, and the last thing he wanted to do was leave the wrong first impression. So he straightened his back, took a deep breath, put on his most amicable smile, and as the man walked toward him, he greeted him. ¡°Howdy, neighbor! I¡¯m Mark Afronte! I just moved in here, and I sincerely hope we can get along,¡± he chirped, holding a hand forward. ¡°Ah! Yeah, uh, hi,¡± the man responded as he awkwardly grasped Mark¡¯s hand, grabbing only two fingers that he shook limply. Then he just nodded and hurriedly walked away at a half-jog. He didn¡¯t even introduce himself. Mark scratched the back of his head. ¡°Boy, that was awkward.¡± Did he come on too strongly? Well, he did his part, he supposed. He dragged the massive bag into his apartment and jumped on the bed. It was so nostalgic. A sheet of paper rustled in his pocket, and he pulled it out. It was the contract for the job he had accepted. The money was all right, but it wasn¡¯t why he took it. Being jobless was an excellent way to spiral into bad habits and lose discipline, so he wanted to have at least something to do. Honestly, he was incredibly overqualified for this position. He was to be a personal trainer for some kid. It came with a free gym membership, and the work hours would be very flexible, not to mention rather undemanding. The real reason he unhesitatingly accepted the job was because he would be granted a special privilege. There were no advanced training facilities in this neighborhood¡ªexcept the private one under the gym, which he would be given access to as an employee. The owner wasn¡¯t selling memberships for it, as it was part of some larger organization¡¯s operations, so this was the only way to get access. Given that he would be spending half his day in the gym anyway and that he really needed a special training facility, he couldn¡¯t have possibly asked for a better position. ¡°Well then,¡± he said as he put the paper away, ¡°I guess I should unpack my things.¡± *** It¡­ Itches. Bloodshed had spent so long trapped in this confined space, and after some time, it grew capable of something incredible. It could sense precisely where Master was. His existence was like a shining beacon to Bloodshed, and it patiently waited for the mighty lord to rise and head for his conquest. But he didn¡¯t move. For so long, he stayed in one place, likely gathering his strength and concocting his plans. Good. The rivers would run red, and the oceans would drown in blood. All would be¡ª Suddenly, something stepped into the building. It was a being of a sinister nature, a creature that spilled blood with every step it took. And it met with Master. They left, both stepping outside and going far away. But it was all right, since soon after, they returned. But then Master went away again, this time even further away. And he wasn¡¯t coming back. Had he abandoned it? No, replaced it? If that was his will, that would be its fate. ¡­ Or maybe he¡¯d simply forgotten it? That could be possible. Master lived for greater things than a mere servant like Bloodshed, and it wouldn¡¯t be a reach for him to lose track of everything he prepared. Then, as Master¡¯s diligent servant, it only had one choice. Bloodshed phased through the box and walked over to the door. It placed a bony hand on it, and within moments, it was phasing through. ¡°Wait for me, Master,¡± it said. ¡°I am coming.¡± Chapter 12 - Humble Beginnings Although he had never been in a small community like this before, Freddy decided that he hated all of them with a burning passion. ¡°Hey, I¡¯ve never seen you around. Where are you from? Just visiting, or?¡± ¡°Are you¡­? No, wait, I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve seen you before!¡± ¡°Did you just move in?¡± One person after another greeted him and tried to make small talk¡ªrealizing without fail that he was an outsider. There were only maybe around a few thousand people here, and they seemed rather interconnected. It wasn¡¯t like he was introverted, strictly speaking. However, he had actively avoided people for the longest time. At the bottom of society, there was no such thing as good company. Even good people would become liabilities when they got themselves into trouble. As a consequence of his avoidance of human interaction, his social skills were lacking, to say the least. He toured the neighborhood, his practice showing as he grew more proficient at answering the greetings, and it wasn¡¯t long until he ran out of places to discover. There were a few cafes and restaurants, some miscellaneous offices, and a rather big gym in one of the smaller buildings. He was sure there was more to be seen inside these places, but going in was¡­ The thing was, right, every public space gave off a¡­ kind of intimate feeling. The people inside moved chairs and tables around as they pleased, and telling who was hanging out with whom was a line that got so blurred that it might as well just be a private party. The idea of walking in on that was awkward. He had business elsewhere anyway, even though it was even less appealing¡ªhe was going to the gym. It was a three-story high section of a building painted in black and gold, with the words Kargon Gym plastered right above the entrance, which was about as intimidating as a damn passage. But somehow, through whatever delirium was carrying him, he managed to walk through the door. The loud groaning and steel colliding made his heartbeat immediately speed up. The space in the gym was expansive, and quite a few people, more than he had expected, were already working out. Now, he didn¡¯t have a frame of reference for either how much those weights weighed or how much a human was supposed to be able to lift¡ªbut holy fuck. Some man was in the middle of benching a metal pole with dozens of fat weights on both sides, and when the man finished the last lift and placed the bar on the holders, the ground freakin¡¯ vibrated. He briefly contemplated leaving until he was confronted by a tall man sporting a buzzcut and wearing gray sweatpants and a black T-shirt. ¡°Hey there, pal, I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve seen you around before.¡± After flinching at the unexpected interaction, he chuckled a bit. ¡°I¡¯ve heard that probably twenty times this morning.¡± ¡°New to the community, I see?¡± the man asked with a chuckle. ¡°So, you here to get a membership or just a tour?¡± ¡°No, I, uhm¡­ I think I have a membership?¡± he said half-inquisitively. ¡°Or, at least, I hope I get one.¡± ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± the man asked him. ¡°Uh¡­ Freddy. Freddy Stern.¡± ¡°Ohhh!¡± The man¡¯s face lit up in recognition as he leaned forward to give him a handshake. ¡°You¡¯re Madame¡¯s guest!¡± That got a few people to turn around. He winced. ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re right,¡± the coach confirmed. ¡°You do have a membership. And you¡ª¡± the man started and then paused as he turned to face the entrance. He clapped his hands once and pointed a finger at someone who had just walked inside. ¡°You also have a personal trainer.¡± He turned around and came face to face with his first neighbor¡ªthe person he had thoroughly embarrassed himself in front of earlier that morning. ¡°Mark,¡± the coach called. ¡°Come here! This fella is your client!¡± The ridiculously buff young man walked forward and shook his hand, his skin rough and his fingers carrying the power of a metal vice. ¡°Nice to meet you! I believe you already know my name,¡± he said somewhat teasingly. This time, he firmly grabbed his hand and even made eye contact. He had gotten enough practice for a lifetime in the past few hours. ¡°You, you, you,¡± he said, wagging his finger at the blond man. ¡°I¡¯m not a morning person, man. You just caught me off-guard. I¡¯m Freddy Stern, by the way. Nice to meet you.¡± Then, with an awkward chuckle, he added. ¡°Also¡­ Uh,¡± he stalled with a chuckle. ¡°I don¡¯t remember a word of what you said this morning.¡± ¡°Yeah, you did look like you weren¡¯t listening,¡± the cheerful man teased with a cheeky grin. ¡°I¡¯m Mark Afronte. Nice to meet you, Freddy.¡± ¡°Well then,¡± the trainer interrupted, hurriedly giving him another handshake. ¡°Also, I¡¯m Steve. Nice to meet you, too. Uhm¡­ So,¡± he said as he pointed at Mark, ¡°you don¡¯t start work until Wednesday, so, like¡­¡±¡ªhe waved his hands around until he finally remembered what he was trying to say¡ª¡°our boy here came to get a tour of the place, and you aren¡¯t obliged to do it or anything since you haven¡¯t started yet, but I think it would be nice. Up to you.¡± ¡°Absolutely no problem,¡± Mark confirmed and turned to face him. ¡°But he needs some clothes.¡± ¡°Yeah, yeah, uh, just go back to the changing room. There¡¯s plenty of stuff there, all clean.¡± ¡°Gotcha,¡± Mark said, fist-bumping Steve as he walked to the locker room. He briefly glanced at the gym employee and followed after his new trainer. The locker room had an entire damn wall of clothing, footwear included, all in every color and size. He picked a plain white T-shirt, blue shorts, and white running shoes. It all felt pleasant as hell to the touch, and frankly, it allowed the air to flow through just a bit too easily. It was hard to believe that he was even wearing clothes. Once his trainer started changing, he almost dislocated his jaw in awe. This man was ridiculously shredded. His muscles looked like they had muscles, and the man was so vascular that looking at his veins made him feel queasy. Both of those details were quickly pushed aside, however, when he noticed the numerous faint scars lining the man¡¯s skin. ¡°So,¡± his trainer said as he finished dressing in an entirely black set of clothes. ¡°How old are you, Freddy?¡± ¡°Me?¡± he asked, tearing his gaze away from the grisly marks. ¡°Uhm, I¡¯m twenty-one. What about you?¡± ¡°You¡¯re kidding?¡± he asked while adjusting his shorts. ¡°Wow, we¡¯re the same age!¡± ¡°We are!?¡± he asked in turn, utterly bewildered. ¡°Yeah, I thought you were a bit older.¡± ¡°Same.¡± A presumption they had likely made for entirely different reasons. His trainer grabbed two towels off a pile and handed him one as they left the locker room. They exchanged a few basic questions; the more they asked, the weirder the atmosphere got between them. From his perspective, this man was absurdly high-class¡ªto the point where it made no sense. Not only was the man a resident of the 25th district, but he was also a highly qualified combat-oriented archhuman with an academy diploma. That castle Freddy saw on his way to work every day? That was where this guy went to fucking school! On the other hand, from this man¡¯s point of view, he must have appeared ridiculously low-class. As the atmosphere got too awkward to bear, they both reached a tacit agreement to shut up and stop asking things. Everyone had their story. Although a good part of Freddy¡¯s was locked behind a non-disclosure agreement. Their tour started on the first floor. It was where all the heavy weight-lifting contraptions were, and Mark walked through it, pointing at and naming random objects. He did not understand what any of this was, but if he stopped to ask for every individual thing, they¡¯d spend the entire day here. The second floor was filled with things to be punched and kicked, ranging from simple punching bags to more complex dummies with either moving parts or solid but specific poses. There were also some ropes hanging off the tall ceiling for whatever reason. Finally, the third floor had a large area that appeared to be for either stretching or Pilates or something, as well as a wall lined with treadmills. A part was walled off, and walking through the door revealed a massive swimming pool. After giving him a brief overview of where things were, Mark took him to a corner of the third floor. A few women were stretching right next to them, and they eyed the admittedly beautiful trainer as he explained a few things. ¡°So, what¡¯s your history with sports and physical activity?¡± Mark interrogated casually. ¡°Uhm¡­ I don¡¯t really have one,¡± he answered honestly. ¡°Don¡¯t misunderstand me; this doesn¡¯t just apply to actively training sports but also anything casual, like playing basketball with the neighborhood kids, home workouts, that sort of stuff.¡± ¡°Uh¡­ Yeah,¡± he said, briefly glancing at the floor. ¡°Does uh¡­ Does moving boxes around count?¡± ¡°Depends,¡± the instructor stated as he shifted his posture and licked his lips. ¡°Were those boxes heavy?¡± ¡°Not really,¡± he said. ¡°I couldn¡¯t lift any of the heavy stuff, so I was tasked with carrying boxes of, like¡­ plastic cups or bags of chips.¡± ¡°Okay,¡± Mark said as he scratched his head. ¡°So, it¡¯s fair to assume you don¡¯t know anything, then?¡± ¡°Yup.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it,¡± Mark said reassuringly, patting him on the shoulder. ¡°Everyone starts somewhere. So then, let¡¯s get started! Every good training session begins with a proper warm-up.¡± The next thirty minutes were spent with Mark repeatedly explaining how to do basic stretching and warm-up exercises. It wasn¡¯t complicated, but his coordination was so bad that he failed to do even that much. Where he just had to spin his hands around to warm up his shoulders, he fumbled, and where he had to warm up his hips, he kept lagging and failing to maintain momentum in the same direction. During jumping jacks, he almost tripped and fell over literally nothing. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. It was so bad that one of the nearby girls asked her friend whether she thought he had a disability or something. He couldn¡¯t even get mad at that, since he was beginning to ask himself the same thing. Next up was a short run on a treadmill. Or rather, what was supposed to be a short run. The experience of the ground vanishing below his feet while the world stayed where it was made him severely nauseous, and it took quite a bit of holding the rail and walking to get accustomed to the sensation. What followed after getting used to it was a stiff run that gave him a neckache since he was absolutely focused on not tripping. Although his trainer reassured him it would be fine, he didn¡¯t want to get crushed beneath the moving treadmill. The rest of the introductory training session wasn¡¯t much better. They skipped the second floor altogether and went straight for the weights. The trainer said something about ¡°splits.¡± Because he was a beginner, he would have to ¡°split¡± his muscles into smaller groups and work on those one at a time. Today, they would be training the chest and triceps. This was where his absolute lack of knowledge became a truly fearsome obstacle. When told to bring the barbell over, he looked around awkwardly, looking for anything that resembled a bell. Learning that those metal poles were called barbells was pretty damn embarrassing. Then, he couldn¡¯t lift the barbell in a bench press, not even by itself. Apparently, he was so weak that it was genuinely concerning. After learning what kind of diet he had been living on, Mark looked worried but suddenly less surprised about his lack of muscle mass and strength. Although he was trying to hide it, the man appeared visibly perturbed by his explanation of how he lived. As for the weights, he had to start with small dumbbells instead. His trainer explained how to exercise his chest with the dumbbells, and after confirming that he was doing it at least somewhat correctly, and with three-kilogram dumbbells at that, he concluded that it was safe enough to let him work on that a bit while he paid a visit to the toilet. He was instructed to do three sets of twelve reps with two-minute breaks between. So then he, who had no damn idea which one was which, proceeded to do twelve sets of three reps. On his third set, he wondered why this was so easy, and that was right about when his trainer returned. ¡°Sorry, it took me a while. All the toilets were occupied. How far along are you?¡± ¡°I just finished my third rep,¡± he informed the man innocently. ¡°Oh, so you¡¯re done?¡± ¡°No, I have nine left¡­?¡± he answered, his words abruptly turning into a question at the end. ¡°What?¡± ¡°What?¡± he asked in turn. His trainer frowned. ¡°You have nine what?¡± ¡°Reps left?¡± ¡°Reps? What? You mean sets?¡± ¡°Huh?¡± ¡°What are you¡­?¡± the trainer¡¯s eyes shifted, seemingly looking for a sign from a benevolent god willing to clear things up. ¡°Just show me what you were doing.¡± Then, he proceeded to do his three-rep set, and Mark facepalmed so hard that Freddy nearly dropped the dumbbells in fright. ¡°Oh, fuck me, dude!¡± his trainer roared with laughter. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry for laughing, but that¡¯s just¡­ Oh, man. I¡¯m gonna have to adjust my approach to teaching you.¡± *** Freddy returned to his apartment, locking the door behind him as he entered. Physically, he felt slightly sore but didn¡¯t feel that tired overall. Mentally, on the other hand, he was fucking exhausted. His trainer was extraordinarily patient and understanding. But that didn¡¯t stop him from feeling embarrassed. There was so much that he hadn¡¯t known that he wouldn¡¯t know about working out. Finally back in his apartment, he felt lost about what to do, so he just turned on the BC and sat on the couch. He turned it off not long after, however. It wasn¡¯t boring or anything, just¡­ It kind of reminded him of work. He couldn¡¯t focus on what he was watching because he subconsciously expected someone to interrupt him. And, well, was this really what he wanted to be doing? Despite the delays and lessons, the training session hadn¡¯t been long. Frankly, it wouldn¡¯t have lasted forty minutes if he wasn¡¯t such a doofus. Besides the occasional promised meetings where he would practice for the interview, that was everything he was obligated to do. Did that mean he would just allow himself to waste the rest of the time? For the next six months, all of his expenses would be covered. On top of that, he had a thousand dollars a day to spend on whatever the hell he wanted. He hadn¡¯t thought about it much since his fragile mind could barely comprehend it, but that meant he would have over $180,000 to spend. Apparently, an amount was so trivial to Madame that she didn¡¯t consider it payment. To him, though? This was his opportunity to become a proper arch. After eating a quick meal, he rushed outside. It was only now that he realized that there were no stores here. After briefly asking around, he was informed that a big part of one of the buildings, or rather, the few floors at the top, was practically just a mall. It wasn¡¯t something that needed to be advertised to such a small community, so there was no outward indication of this. He entered the building, located the elevator, or rather, the section with fifteen elevators, entered one, and selected the eleventh floor. The building was fourteen stories high, but the elevator went up only eleven. The button leading to the top floor was dyed gold, indicating that that part of the building wasn¡¯t ordinary. ¡°Oh my God.¡± With how often he ran into space dilation, he would think everyone and their grandma used it. The mall wasn¡¯t too generous with it, but they expanded the available space by at least another 30 percent. The white marble flooring and walls felt like they stretched in every direction, and the glass ceiling scattered light all over. Barely suspended bridges connected different mall sections over the atrium, and he was surprised at how many different stores there were. The vast majority seemed to be fashion brands, but some shops were dealing in combat equipment and other professional tools. It didn¡¯t take him long to locate what he was looking for. There was a library just to the left of where he was, and he promptly headed toward it. The clerk asked him what he wanted, and he informed the man that he was looking for guides to water arts or anything of the sort. There was a lot of material, and the man suggested he buy a standard guide for beginners. The perfect place to start, he thought¡ªuntil the cashier informed him that it cost nine-hundred and thirty-seven dollars. Lord almighty, what is this book made of? he pondered internally. Although his poverty instincts did their best to dissuade him from buying it, he knew damn well that he would have to get used to pricing like this sooner or later. The scan of the card took a piece of his soul with it, and he walked out holding the single most expensive object he had ever purchased. Once he returned to the apartment, he cracked it open and quickly learned why it cost so much. Would he say that the price was entirely justified? Absolutely yes. Even putting the animated, moving drawings visualizing what the text was saying and the shimmering runes that helped him feel a particular flow of essence aside, the book held broad sections on just about every class of water art. Offensive, defensive, movement, martial arts, short-range, long-range, hell, even how to summon water elementals¡ªeven though that was a pipe dream without a designated talent. The only thing it was missing was a direct ether imprint like those that the scrolls he had used had. They imbued his soul directly with an ether shell, while this book merely taught him how to develop one himself. That was still precious information, and with how well-telegraphed it was, he didn¡¯t doubt that he had just made one of the best purchases of his life. Unless he had gotten scammed like the ignoramus he was. But he doubted that. If anything, he felt this was too cheap for what it provided him with, even with his instincts trying to convince him otherwise. While he wanted to spend today planning out his schedule, it wasn¡¯t long until the book consumed him, and one shiny page after another flipped. *** Two hundred years ago, something weird happened on an otherwise unassuming day. The laws of physics suddenly changed¡ªthe world expanded in every direction, the distance between locations growing ten times what it used to be. Gravity no longer worked by the same principles, nor did leverage and pressure. Heat and cold went from abstract concepts that were only valid from the human perspective to diametric properties of matter. Electricity was still real, but it no longer followed the principles of the old, and it was debatable whether electrons even existed anymore. Space became malleable. Light was split into information that traveled infinitely fast but carried no energy and destructive particles that could travel so slowly that relatively ordinary humans could perceive them moving. Darkness became more than just the absence of light. Quantum mechanics who? General relativity what? Everything mankind knew of reality shattered in an instant. As far as old world archs, some of whom lived to this very day, claimed, the way things felt in everyday life remained precisely the same. But almost none of the old-world technology was usable. Yet, the most significant change of all was the appearance of ether. While reading through his book, Freddy found himself¡­ not disappointed, per se, but more¡­ No, he was pretty damn disappointed. Half the book was just, Here is a cool idea¡­ but wait, it¡¯s actually stupid as fuck, and we included it here so that we could preemptively crush your dreams before you waste your time trying to make it work. What¡¯s that, a water blade!? Water shaped into a sword can¡¯t cut shit, dumbass! Oh my God, a water bullet? You¡¯re an idiot for even entertaining the idea. A shield of water, you say? What are you defending yourself from, a warm gust of wind? However, it didn¡¯t dismiss any idea as objectively bad, which made sense. It simply gave a run-down of what to expect and, if one wanted to, how to make it work. Usually, by the time one made one of these ideas work, they could have done far more with an ability that suited the water affinity, but that didn¡¯t mean that the less appropriate ones were always the wrong choice. After all, talents could easily make a stupid idea brilliant. Still, that didn¡¯t change the fact that water had clearly defined strengths and weaknesses. Water spells doing damage firmly belonged on the side of its shortcomings, with a few notable exceptions, like Pressure Jet or Dehydration. Water affinity thrived at two things: support and martial arts¡ª A strange ringing sound echoed around him, and his attention was violently ripped away from the book. His heart raged in his chest, and he sweated profusely. It wasn¡¯t long until the ringing sounded again. ¡°Wait, is that a doorbell?¡± He had never lived in a place with one, so it surprised him. Although, now that he knew what it was, it didn¡¯t make his anxiety magically vanish. The clock showed that it was almost 6 p.m., and it wasn¡¯t like he had been expecting guests. The bell rang again, and he realized he had no choice but to answer the door. Could it be the assistant? For a second, that made him panic. What if his visit to the gym today or the preemptive meeting with the trainer violated the contract somehow? No matter how he thought of it, neither should be a problem. Oh fuck, what if I wasn¡¯t allowed to spend money with the card yet? Had he misheard the man? Had he been too dazed to hear that he could only use it after Wednesday? What if he¡ª His thoughts were interrupted by yet another ring, and he knew that, no matter what or who it was, it was time to get up and open the door. One step after another felt like they were dragging him to an executioner, and with great reluctance, he opened the door¡ªonly to spot his trainer, Mark, in the middle of turning around and leaving. ¡°Oh,¡± the young man said. ¡°I thought you weren¡¯t home, so I¡ª¡± he started but stopped as he instead bowed. ¡°I am here to apologize for my behavior today.¡± ¡°What behavior?¡± he asked, relieved that it hadn¡¯t been trouble but also confused. ¡°I shouldn¡¯t have laughed at you,¡± the man said simply, clearly ashamed. ¡°Oh, that?¡± he asked, chuckling slightly. ¡°Honestly, man, that was pretty funny, even in my¡ª¡± ¡°No, I really, really shouldn¡¯t have laughed at you,¡± he insisted as he got up from his bow. ¡°Technically speaking, I haven¡¯t started work yet, but ridiculing you in any way is a pretty clear violation of my employment contract.¡± ¡°Oh¡­ that¡¯s what you mean.¡± ¡°Yeah. Uhm¡­ That was pretty inexcusable, not to mention highly unprofessional, and if it made you uncomfortable, you should request that I be replaced with someone more qualified.¡± ¡°Well¡­ shit, man, you¡¯re putting me on the spot here, uhm,¡± he said, scratching the back of his head. ¡°I really don¡¯t mind.¡± ¡°Are you sure?¡± he asked, deflating a bit. ¡°I mean, as you said, you aren¡¯t working yet, so technically, I¡¯ve forced you into unpaid overtime, not to mention disturbed your gym schedule. I think that makes us even.¡± The man forced a laugh out, but his smile looked forced. ¡°Still. There is no need to be considerate of me. Being comfortable, especially when getting started, is essential for falling in love with the process and building motivation. Think about it and speak to Matt Canstone about this,¡± he suggested. ¡°Have a good evening, and I¡¯ll see you around.¡± He turned around and walked away, but before he could get far, Freddy walked over and grabbed him by the arm. He didn¡¯t know why he¡¯d done that, but his mouth opened before he could even begin questioning his actions. ¡°Do you want to have dinner with me?¡± ¡°Uhm¡­ excuse me, what?¡± ¡°No, I¡ª¡± Freddy pulled his arm back. ¡°Not like a date or anything, God, I¡¯m¡ªI don¡¯t swing that way,¡± he rushed to explain. ¡°It¡¯s just that, you know, we¡¯re neighbors, and I thought it would be uhm¡­ I thought it would be cool.¡± The man paused for a moment, then snorted out a small laugh as he scratched the back of his head. ¡°Yeah, all right, that sounds great.¡± It was a small gesture. It was no big deal. But to him, who hadn¡¯t tried making friends in far too long, this seemed like an excellent opportunity to start. Chapter 13 - A Formal Introduction This was the first time that Freddy got to experience the food service in this building. As nothing but a brown stain remained on the plate where, minutes ago, a glorious steak had been, he felt incredibly salty that this event was hampered by the awkward atmosphere. Mark had likely only agreed to be polite and had shown little enthusiasm at being there. Any attempt to start a conversation was about as effective as throwing an egg would be at shattering a concrete wall. Eventually, the man decided that he had waited long enough that leaving wouldn¡¯t appear rude. ¡°Thank you for the meal, Mr. Stern,¡± Mark said, getting up from his seat. ¡°I hope to see you around.¡± But not at work, Freddy added inwardly. Before the mountain of muscle could leave, he asked him one final question. ¡°Why¡­ Why did you accept the job?¡± ¡°Hmm?¡± Mark turned around. ¡°It¡¯s just that, you know¡­ judging by what you said, I assume you¡¯re quite well off,¡± he said. ¡°Don¡¯t get me wrong. I¡¯m not prying or¡ª¡± ¡°It¡¯s all right,¡± he said. ¡°It isn¡¯t some big secret. The gym owner owns a private training facility here. Unfortunately, he isn¡¯t selling access to it, but he does allow his employees entry.¡± ¡°That sounds like a pretty good deal,¡± he commented, nodding as if very impressed. ¡°Honestly, if I were you, I¡¯d do anything to keep the job.¡± ¡°I told you already, my actions violate the¡ª¡± ¡°But they don¡¯t,¡± he said, interrupting the man. ¡°You weren¡¯t on the job yet. Besides, it isn¡¯t like you¡¯re getting fired. You¡¯re voluntarily quitting.¡± Something flashed through the blond man¡¯s expression, and he responded with a slightly grimmer tone. ¡°That is just a technicality. It¡¯s merely an excuse that doesn¡¯t change what I¡¯ve done.¡± ¡°But I¡¯ve already forgiven you,¡± he shot back. ¡°And besides, it wasn¡¯t like it ever bothered me.¡± ¡°It was a major mistake.¡± ¡°But does that mean your only option is to quit?¡± ¡°With all due respect, Mr. Stern,¡± Mark said, turning to face him and frowning, ¡°why are you so insistent?¡± That question made him wince, but before he could respond, the young man continued. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, you won¡¯t be left without a trainer. I¡¯m sure they¡¯ll find someone to replace me soon enough. Have a good night,¡± the man offered as he again turned around and started walking away. He hesitated for a long while as he watched the man walk away. Just as Mark was about to leave the kitchen and enter the living room, Freddy¡¯s mouth opened. ¡°Is this because of my social status?¡± Mark paused, ¡°No, that¡¯s not the case, I¡­¡± ¡°Are you sure?¡± he asked, staring the man down for any signs of betraying the truth. The man merely stayed quiet at that, his eyes shifting away slightly. Freddy felt a pang of pain shoot through his chest. ¡°I knew it,¡± he whispered. ¡°No, I¡ª¡± the man suddenly yelled. ¡°I swear to God that has nothing to do with it!¡± ¡°Then why?¡± Mark¡¯s eyes lowered to the ground as his jaw tightened. ¡°I really don¡¯t care about that one bit. But I can¡¯t give you a satisfying answer since it¡¯s a private topic that, no offense, I have no interest in sharing with a stranger.¡± He stayed quiet for a long moment and then nodded. ¡°Okay, I respect that. But,¡± he said, staring the taller man in the eye. ¡°Let me just ask you one more thing. If you¡¯re replaced, what are the odds that I will get someone who does care about my background?¡± That made the man wince. ¡°I don¡¯t know, but¡­¡± ¡°But they¡¯re not zero, are they?¡± he asked, already knowing the answer. ¡°If you want to quit, I can¡¯t stop you, but I will be honest. I am¡­¡± The words felt like a clump of nails climbing up his throat. ¡°I am scared shitless of this whole thing, and¡­ for whatever it might be worth to you, I felt lucky to get you as my trainer.¡± ¡°And why is that?¡± ¡°You didn¡¯t shout at me a single time,¡± he said, blinking away hints of agony appearing at the corners of his eyes. ¡°You didn¡¯t hit me. You didn¡¯t threaten me. You didn¡¯t demean me. Not a single time that we¡¯ve interacted did you treat me like I was less human than you are.¡± The two men stared at each other for a few long moments. A flash of sympathy warred with the man¡¯s reluctance, and then, finally, Mark sighed. ¡°All right,¡± he returned and offered him a reluctant handshake. ¡°I guess I can stick around a while longer.¡± An embarrassed smile flashed across Freddy¡¯s face. ¡°And I¡¯d be glad to have you.¡± ¡°To be honest, I also felt lucky to get you as my client,¡± the man said, smiling awkwardly. ¡°And why is that?¡± ¡°Because you aren¡¯t a spoiled brat, Mr. Stern.¡± He laughed slyly. ¡°Please just call me Freddy, dude.¡± ¡°All right. Call me Mark, too,¡± he permitted, smiling. ¡°But I will add that I still feel guilty about my actions today. Don¡¯t hesitate to ask if you need help with anything.¡± ¡°I might just take you up on that offer.¡± Mark got ready to leave again, but then he paused. ¡°Oh, by the way, do you wish to do another session tomorrow, or do you want to wait until the day after, when we officially start?¡± He thought about that for a bit, but he didn¡¯t take long to decide. ¡°I¡¯d love to continue tomorrow.¡± ¡°All right then! See you tomorrow at eight.¡± ¡°Eight?¡± he asked. ¡°Isn¡¯t that a bit late?¡± ¡°Hmm? Oh, I was trying to be considerate, but if you want, we can move it back to seven.¡± ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s a bit better, I guess,¡± he muttered, still slightly confused. ¡°Great! I¡¯ll see you in the morning!¡± Mark said, patting him on the shoulder, but he paused as he noticed the expression on Freddy¡¯s face. ¡°Is something wrong?¡± ¡°Ah¡­ No¡­ Hahaha¡­ Everything is A-okay,¡± he said, too embarrassed to go back on what he said. He had assumed that it was eight in the evening, but he gritted his teeth and accepted it. The man was already doing him a major solid by sticking around. If he wanted to work out in the morning, then by whatever gods might be out there, Freddy would show up in the morning. They shook hands and parted ways. His sleep schedule had been atrocious for a while already, and coupled with all he had done today, he felt positively exhausted. It was 7 p.m., and he didn¡¯t want to mess up his sleep schedule further by going to sleep too early, so he waited for the next two hours, absent-mindedly flipping the pages of the water arts guide, really just admiring the incredible illustrations, until the clock hit 9 p.m. and he went to sleep. *** Except for the fact that he forgot to turn on the alarm and showed up thirty minutes late, the second day went by much more smoothly than the first. This was in no small part because of Mark¡¯s new approach. If he was being entirely honest, his trainer¡¯s explanations bordered on condescending as he presumed that Freddy knew literally nothing, even some things that were common sense. But hey, it was all justified because Mark was right on the money more often than he would like to admit. They did back exercises today, with Mark very gently easing him into some deadlifting. As in, he brought a broom from storage to use instead of a metal barbell. They also did some rows and hyperextensions, with the man making sure he was fully in the loop before allowing him to start. At one point, a rude guy walked past them, glanced at the minuscule weight he was lifting, and sneered at him. Mark was about to call out to the man, likely to criticize him, but then Freddy loudly groaned, ¡°Ugh, this cancer treatment is killing me, dude.¡± The man who had mocked him just a moment ago suddenly froze, and Mark smiled guilelessly, winking at Freddy and shooting him a double thumbs-up. It wasn¡¯t possible to have perfect form without some training, but he needed to know what ¡°perfect form¡± was before developing bad habits and a lopsided posture. Next up were pull-ups, of which he could do precisely zero. But, with a special machine that supported his legs, he could kind of do it, but only after most of his body weight was already compensated for. After they were done with the training, they changed into swimming suits and went into the pool, which was where they did their stretching exercises. Thankfully, there was a section where he could stand without swimming because this was his first time in water like this. Ever. It was quite something for a water arch not to know how to swim. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. The second day went by quickly, and he left the gym feeling sore but good overall. When he returned to his apartment, he ordered some ¡°fried jipur.¡± Apparently, it was an avian species similar to chicken, even though it tasted many times better. After that, it was roughly 11 a.m., and Freddy had precisely nothing to do for the rest of the day. He opened the water arts guide again, but it wasn¡¯t long until he closed it. Reading it just kind of made him feel depressed. There was a crap ton of cool stuff he could do eventually, but as it stood, it was like an apple on the highest branch, and he didn¡¯t know how to climb the tree. He sat on the carpeted floor of his living room, legs crossed. Again, it wasn¡¯t long until he felt too uncomfortable to maintain the position, so he moved to lie flat on the floor. As he had a better feeling for water wisps after fiddling around the Netherecho for a while, he finally began proper gathering for the first time ever. It was a lot more complex than he expected. He imagined water flowing¡ªrivers, waterfalls, rain, faucets, anything that came to mind¡ªand before long, his very soul echoed with the images, spinning like a vortex that pulsed into the Netherecho. The star in his ethercosm roiled, and he felt it oscillate with calm energy. One after another, like blue stars lighting up the empty night sky, wisps lit up and began flowing toward him. One reached him, effortlessly seeping into his soul, and it seemed like¡ª He gasped, getting up while holding his chest and breathing heavily. ¡°Oh fuck, man.¡± That was like doing deadlifts with his soul. He felt like he¡¯d been spinning in circles, and now that he had stopped, the world was still rotating around him. Meditative gathering was much faster than running around the Netherecho. Not only that, but it also gathered wisps from the air and below the ground, pulling them toward the individual meditating. There were restrictions, however. It only attracted wisps of one affinity, even if the person meditating had several, depending on which they were focusing on. It was also tiring and required a lot of practice. And finally, it couldn¡¯t be done for too long. Freddy was surprised by how many wisps there had been, and he very cautiously decided to check out the Netherecho. ¡°I think it¡¯s about time to stop being surprised at everything.¡± He didn¡¯t know why or how, but the Netherecho was bursting with colorful wisps here. But there was something unusual as well. There were no vestiges. Could this apartment be warded to prevent them from appearing? He knew this was possible from Basics of Gathering, but he didn¡¯t expect this apartment to have such a feature. However, it only made things easier for him as he did the first thing that came to mind¡ªhis projection hopped from one wisp to another, and he continued his gathering. *** Freddy was out on the streets. By this point, he was already beginning to recognize some people here. Once he passed a kind old lady, he walked to the next bench, sat down, and entered the Netherecho. It hadn¡¯t taken him all that long to squeeze his apartment dry, and now, a few hours later, he was out on the streets like some sort of addict, looking for more. While his apartment was warded against the appearance of vestiges, the streets most certainly weren¡¯t. But he found that it wasn¡¯t a problem. He appeared within the Netherecho, and the rainbow mist gradually receded around him, stopping at roughly a five-meter radius, marking the relatively short range he could move. There were no vestiges in his vicinity, and one or two was the most he¡¯d seen at once. It was likely that someone, or perhaps several people, cleaned the streets by destroying any that appeared. He gradually went from one bench to another, entering the Netherecho and scouring it for goods. He couldn¡¯t move too far from his body since the rainbow mist prevented him from making it any further than his range permitted, so he settled for physically moving around to reach fresh areas. It wasn¡¯t long until he noticed something peculiar. He moved and sat right next to the central building, the twenty-five-story high-rise in the center of the neighborhood. Everywhere around it was packed with wisps of ether. There was only one explanation for why that was. There is a passage in there¡­ This neighborhood was built around a passage. He didn¡¯t expect an entrance to the interspace in a place like this, but some things suddenly began making sense, such as why some people were walking around in armor and carrying weaponry. While there were a lot of water wisps, compared to the thoroughly barren environment of his previous apartment, they were vastly outnumbered by air, earth, and loads of other miscellaneous ones. After a day of gorging himself, he started wondering¡ªwasn¡¯t this kind of easy? He could move quite fast with his projection, so cleaning the immediate range never took longer than ten or so minutes. Basics of Gathering never even referred to what he was doing as a legitimate method. Slaughtering vestiges and reaping the mass of wisps was a different subject, but collecting stray wisps with his projection shouldn¡¯t be this efficient. It wasn¡¯t long until these doubts turned into a strong sense of anxiety. Could he be fucking something up? Or perhaps he was overexerting himself by doing this? There was a strong feeling that he was ignorant of what he was doing, and he decided to try something. During the morning before the moving crew arrived at his apartment, he felt quite tense and tired. Back then, he skipped practice with all his other abilities and focused on the Water Body tempering technique. He counted, and when he spent all his essence on it, he could maintain it for approximately thirteen seconds. Freddy calmed himself, got comfortable on the bench he was sitting on, and started using the body tempering technique. One¡­ Two¡­ Three¡­ ¡­ Fourteen¡­ Fifteen¡­ Sixteen¡­ ¡­ Twenty-five¡­ Twenty-six¡ª At that point, his technique collapsed, leaving him feeling refreshed. Twenty-six seconds¡ªprecisely double the essence he had just a few days ago. Rapid growth was expected for beginners¡­ but this much? He scoffed. Truth be told, he had nothing to compare this against. Maybe he was even lagging behind where he should be. With the intent to pull his head out of his ass and stop getting so full of himself, he finally headed home. Dinner, reading, hygiene, and finally, sleep. Everything else would come tomorrow. *** So, this is when it kicks in¡­ Freddy woke up in pure agony, acutely aware of every muscle he had worked on in the past two days, and even some he thought he hadn¡¯t exercised at all, like his biceps. Today, he would ¡°formally¡± meet Mark, his trainer, and be provided his schedule. Matt would be here at noon, and it was 9 a.m., so he still had three hours until the arranged meeting. First, he went into the toilet and drank a ton of water. As his essence had recovered, he began using his Water Body tempering technique without hesitation. Some stage zero body tempering techniques had extremely minor effects. This was a standard feature. While the ether shells were empty, the ability lacked ties to supernatural concepts. Stage zero techniques were more or less just shortcuts for what could be done with pure essence manipulation. Well, theoretically, at least. Only when an ether shell¡¯s true purpose was fulfilled did an ability evolve into something incredible. And that purpose was quite simple¡ªtrapping a personified ether construct within, either through beating them up until they were too weak to resist being sucked into the soul or merely convincing them to get in voluntarily. Depending on what sorts of concepts an ether construct was connected to, the ability would evolve in different ways. When he had first entered the Netherecho, there had been a vestige on his fridge¡ªthe one that nearly killed him. It looked like a glass orb containing shifting liquid within, and if he had to guess, that was likely a vestige connected to some sort of ¡°liquid containment¡± concept. Once his body tempering technique was ready to upgrade, Freddy could trap a vestige like that in the ether shell for the ability. The resulting effect would change his body tempering technique drastically. The ability would likely evolve into one that tempered his body into being resistant to losing liquid, either through dehydration, bleeding, or maybe some other similar effect. Naturally, not every vestige could be forced into every ether shell, and, interestingly enough, the vestige¡¯s actual affinity didn¡¯t matter that much. For example, flow was something intrinsic to water, but not every water ability wanted or needed the water to flow. On the other hand, something like compression could be connected to myriad affinities, including water, so even if the vestige was of the air affinity, it could still slot into many water shells without a problem. Preparing an ability for evolution was a long process requiring extensive practice, so body tempering techniques usually took a while to become useful. Luckily for him, he had one of the most favorable affinities for his current circumstances. Water comprised over 60 percent of a human¡¯s body and was essential for many functions. And now, that water was circulating through his body, performing its function flawlessly. His cells reestablished a balance between the extracellular and intracellular fluid. His blood circulated to every corner of his body, carrying water to organs and dehydrated muscles, and his cerebrospinal fluid supplied the necessary nutrients and oxygen to his nerve cells while washing away the waste. He hadn¡¯t counted how long it lasted this time, merely focusing on the process within. Once he opened his eyes, he felt goddamn amazing. This feeling didn¡¯t last too long, but at that moment, his body, at least regarding water-related functions, was in an excellent state. It wouldn¡¯t take long for that balance to go to shit again, but the more he used the technique, the more easily he would attain that state and the longer it would last. Theoretically, eventually, his body would attain that balance permanently. But way before that happened, he would evolve the ability and add more to its function. His muscles felt considerably less sore afterward, and he felt wide awake, as if he¡¯d had a nice cup of coffee. Speaking of coffee¡­ He went to the kitchen, ordering a long shot of espresso. Before it arrived, he showered and brushed his teeth. The warm cup of delicious coffee was just the perfect thing to go with some reading, and before long, he finally flipped the last page of the water arts guide. Apparently, there was no information on body tempering techniques in this book, as there were so many that a different volume was required. But it still left him with plenty to think about. He could choose to be either a support or a martial artist. There was also the water caster option, but that was a rough path. If someone fully dedicated themselves to a pure path of water spells, there was a strong possibility that they would acquire an advanced affinity upon ascending a star. That advanced affinity, in this case, was the ice affinity. Ice was naturally more suited for damage than water, so getting it was an excellent way to become a powerful mage¡ªbut it wasn¡¯t guaranteed. Not at the second star, at least. Even if he forged the perfect, optimal path, working for a decade on all the spells he could, the most he could reach was an 80 percent probability of getting the ice affinity. Enough people got stuck at the second star, even with a decent path. Water-only two-star casters? Yeah, unless they had a talent or a second affinity to bail them out, they were probably screwed. Water could do many cool things if one upgraded the abilities enough times and patched enough flaws¡ªbut why the hell would anyone waste their time doing that when they could simply do what water was best at? However, there were many things to consider when making the decision. According to the book, one must consider the ¡°predisposition trifecta¡±¡ªtheir affinities, natural talent, and prime talent. His affinity and prime talent were ideally suited for martial arts, but that didn¡¯t mean that was the best choice for him. He still had to consider his natural talent. For one, his coordination was trash, and that was likely the number one requirement for learning martial arts¡ª Ringing interrupted his thoughts again, and he put the book down as he got up to open the door. ¡°Hello, Mr. Stern,¡± said Matt, the assistant. ¡°I hope you had your rest.¡± ¡°I¡¯m as fresh as could be,¡± he chuckled nervously. ¡°So, where are we heading first?¡± he asked, but he already knew that the gym was most likely their first location. ¡°Follow me,¡± was all the man said as they left¡ªbut rather than head toward the gym, they walked into a different building altogether. He remained silent throughout the ordeal, and they walked to an elevator. It took them to the seventh floor, and the doors opened to what appeared to be a clinic. Chapter 14 - Touching Some Grass It took Freddy a few moments to catch up with where he was and to realize what was about to happen, but when he did, he felt strangely at peace with it. He could have traded far worse things for an opportunity like this. The clinic had a typical sterile vibe, with nurses wearing white coats and carrying stacks of papers around. He had no fond memories of hospitals, as the last time he was forced to go to one was when he had a near-lethal fever. The treatment and subsequent medicine halved his savings, and he didn¡¯t even get paid time off from work. This place gave off a distinctly different atmosphere, however. While that hospital had been falling apart at the seams, with tired employees patrolling the hallways and sick patients waiting in long lines, this place looked more like an idealized version of a clinic, one primed for a movie set or something. To be fair, he wouldn¡¯t expect much else from a wealthy gated community. Matt took him to a door near the entrance, and he was told to enter. The assistant would be waiting for him outside, it seemed. He took a deep breath and pushed the door open. An aged-looking man wearing glasses sat at a desk, his ear-length black-accented-by-gray hair tucked behind his spectacles. His posture was great, and although he appeared somewhat meek, he was balanced and composed, with a healthy complexion and bright eyes. He smiled the instant he spotted Freddy enter and got up to shake his hand. ¡°Greetings, Mr. Stern. I¡¯m Dr. Leonard Garfield. Pleased to meet you,¡± he said in a hearty, surprisingly loud voice, giving Freddy an almost painfully firm handshake. ¡°I¡¯m uh¡­ pleased to meet you too, Doctor.¡± ¡°Come on, sit,¡± the doctor urged him, rushing to his desk. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, today will be a simple health examination.¡± That made him release the breath he didn¡¯t even know he had been holding. The man chuckled a bit at that. He looked down a bit, gathering up the courage to ask the man a question, but before he could open his mouth, the doctor spoke. ¡°As I said, there is no need for worry. You¡¯re in good hands.¡± ¡°Will I¡­ Will there be side effects?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± the doctor confirmed bluntly, nodding. ¡°That¡¯s just how the human body works. However,¡± he said while tearing a piece of paper out of the notebook he was writing in, ¡°it is my job to make sure you never notice them. And I don¡¯t mean to brag, but I¡¯m pretty damn good at what I do,¡± he bragged with a smile and a cheeky wink. ¡°Just relax.¡± The man asked him numerous questions regarding his health and lifestyle habits. The doctor frowned enough times to make him realize that he had been living quite an unhealthy life up to that point. After that, the man extracted a few vials of his blood. It hurt a bit, but he was a big boy, so he endured it. The man left the room for a few minutes, taking the samples with him, and returned shortly with a chair, which he sat in next to Freddy. ¡°Now, Mr. Stern, please take your shirt off.¡± He complied. The man placed a finger on his sternum. He felt a sensation that reminded him of what Madame had done to him when they first met. A squirming warmth oozed its way into his chest cavity, and he felt like his lungs and heart were being held up by gentle, firm hands. ¡°All right, now take a few deep breaths.¡± He complied again, breathing deeply until the man told him to stop. The doctor then got up, stood to his right, and placed his right palm on his chest while putting his left palm on his back. ¡°You have a water affinity, right?¡± Freddy nodded. ¡°Good. Please use your primary tempering technique.¡± ¡°Uh¡­¡± He hesitated. ¡°I used up all my essence, so I¡¯m pretty drained.¡± ¡°It¡¯s all right. Even a second is fine if you can manage.¡± He could, so he did, and the man nodded after feeling him use it. ¡°Ah, generic water body, good, good.¡± He nodded, taking his hands off. ¡°That will be useful.¡± He returned to his desk, but he suddenly paused and turned around. ¡°Just to make sure, do you have any other affinities?¡± ¡°No, why?¡± Freddy asked. ¡°Some people tend to hide them for personal reasons,¡± the doctor said, shrugging. ¡°I¡¯m a medical professional, so I wouldn¡¯t be telling anything to anyone, and knowing would make my job a lot easier,¡± he said, and then, with a strange tone, he added, ¡°especially if you have the blood affinity.¡± That made him pause for a moment. ¡°No¡­ I don¡¯t. I assure you.¡± ¡°Oh, all right.¡± The man nodded, taking his word for it. ¡°Also, I advise you to refrain from attaining new affinities during the next six months.¡± That claim made Freddy perk up. ¡°Is that even possible?¡± The doctor nodded. ¡°There are treasures and other rare, special methods that can achieve that, but using any of them could result in serious problems for you, especially in the case of the blood affinity.¡± ¡°I will keep that in mind, but¡­¡± he said, chuckling, ¡°I highly doubt I¡¯ll have access to something like that.¡± ¡°Well, I wouldn¡¯t have my reputation if I weren¡¯t thorough with my work,¡± he said, heartily patting Freddy on the thigh with a chuckle of his own. An adult man who appeared to be a nurse walked in, handed a paper to the doctor, and left. The man looked at the paper, sighing and frowning as he read its contents. After reading through it, he got up, walked over to a nearby cabinet, and pulled out a small collection of what appeared to be medicine containers. Then, he wrote a few things on paper and handed everything to Freddy, who forced a smile on his face. ¡°I thought today was just an examination¡­¡± he said, eyeing the almost a dozen medicines on the table. ¡°Well,¡± the doctor said with a chuckle. ¡°I don¡¯t see a reason to be so afraid of vitamin and mineral supplements.¡± He winced as he read the label on one of the bottles and flushed red in embarrassment. ¡°Oh¡­¡± There was also a paper detailing the schedule for taking them¡­ as well as an exhaustive list of things he should and shouldn¡¯t consume. Seeing coffee and red meat on the list of things he wasn¡¯t allowed to intake, he nearly cried. ¡°A bit of advice,¡± the doctor added. ¡°For now, use all your essence on the tempering technique, and tell me as soon as it is ready to evolve.¡± ¡°You mean¡­ I can¡¯t train anything else?¡± ¡°You can if you want to. But the better you get at using it, the fewer long-term consequences you¡¯ll see, not to mention just how much faster you¡¯ll be able to grow muscle with the aid to recovery.¡± That was a tempting prospect, but he wasn¡¯t willing to completely give up his right to work on other techniques. ¡°I¡¯ll think about it,¡± he said noncommittally. ¡°One final question,¡± the doctor said, grabbing a paper to write something down. ¡°What is your prime talent?¡± That question made him pause. This was the first time anyone had ever asked him what his talent was after becoming an arch. Madame knew, technically, but she inquired about the prime vestige he manifested. This begged the question¡ªwouldn¡¯t she have informed the doctor? Or maybe she was too busy for that¡ª ¡°Is something wrong?¡± the doctor asked him, and he jolted a bit. Freddy felt a weird repulsion toward the idea of answering the question. Reason won out in the end, and he concluded that it was best this man knew. ¡°It¡¯s 1% Lifesteal.¡± The doctor¡¯s pen paused, hovering over the paper as he slowly looked up, adjusting his glasses. ¡°Do you know the specifics of how it works?¡± He shook his head. ¡°Not many.¡± ¡°Do you have any intent of using it?¡± ¡°Well, I¡¯m certainly not going to be putting myself in danger, that¡¯s for sure.¡± ¡°Good,¡± the doctor nodded. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t.¡± After some extra advice and arranging the scheduled check-ups, he shook the man¡¯s hand and left, with Matt promptly escorting him to the gym. Apparently, the preparations for the interview wouldn¡¯t begin for at least another three months, so until then, there was only one thing left to do. *** Dr. Garfield stared at the paper, noting the results of the health examination. His hunch had been correct¡ªthere was muscle protein in Mr. Stern¡¯s blood. This wasn¡¯t quite enough to diagnose the exact type of muscular dystrophy he had, but judging from what he felt in the man¡¯s heart, it was terminal. He leaned back in his chair and sighed. This made things complicated. The man¡¯s body was in a decent state for the time being, but his illness would show itself soon enough. Trying to train a body like that wasn¡¯t going to be easy. For a moment, he briefly pondered whether Madame was aware of the young man¡¯s plight. It was unlikely. If she was, putting him on a schedule like this was the equivalent of trying to kill him. Yet, his mind wandered back to the heart defect he had spotted. Despite the complications, a smile crept up on his face. Looks like his job would be much easier than he had anticipated. This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. *** The third day was spent working Freddy¡¯s core and doing light cardio. He felt that, even with his inflammation, this was a bit too easy. Mark¡¯s explanation cleared things up a bit. ¡°All that forcing you too much now would achieve is to increase the likelihood of you injuring yourself,¡± he said, but not without adding, ¡°although you are right. If you were training to become a martial artist, you¡¯d be going much harder than this. ¡°Training to become a warrior means pushing yourself physically, mentally, and, ultimately, spiritually. You seek toughness, grit, power, and knowledge of what your body can do.¡± Then he shrugged. ¡°Training to achieve a look, on the other hand¡­ Don¡¯t get me wrong, it can and will get pretty tough, but there is no need to torment yourself. In fact, too much work can often be counterproductive.¡± He tapped him on the shoulder. ¡°You aim to become a fighter, right?¡± Freddy nodded. ¡°Then focus on your abilities and gathering. Training your body, even just to grow muscle, won¡¯t be a waste of time. I promise.¡± *** It was 3 p.m. Freddy had eaten, showered, and taken some supplements, and now he lay in bed, feeling the deep aches all over his body. As far as his responsibilities for the day went, he was done. So he promptly delved into the Netherecho. After roughly thirty minutes of gathering, he finally felt hints of essence accompanying the wisps he consumed. All wisps had a specific essence capacity, but appropriating this essence while consuming the ether wasn¡¯t easy. However, the more powerful one became, the more pronounced this effect was. And now, gathering was starting to become a valid method of speeding up his essence recovery. Although, frankly, the effect was weak. Even after nearly an hour of gathering, having cleaned his entire apartment again, he gained only around a second or two of using his tempering technique¡¯s worth of essence. He sighed, got off the bed, dressed, and left the apartment. He wanted to go practice meditative gathering again but wouldn¡¯t just do it anywhere. His training would be much more worthwhile in an area rich in water wisps. While there was a pool at his gym, there wasn¡¯t much ether to gather there, as he was far from the only water-affinity arch going to that gym. So he was on a mission. It was time to find a proper place to meditate. *** Asking around the streets was almost entirely useless. The only places people pointed to were either paid-entry gathering grounds outside the community or private areas. Some paths were carved through the woods, but none of them led to a water source. It was only when a small child overheard him ask an elderly woman that he got some answers. The boy told him that there was a medium-sized pond in the small forest around the neighborhood. Small problem, though¡ªwhile most of the woods were tamed, the body of water was in a wild section. This wasn¡¯t some rainforest or jungle; hell, he could see buildings on the other side, even from the streets. That didn¡¯t change the fact that he had never been in a forest. He didn¡¯t even remember the last time he had made contact with grass. It was probably back when he went to the park with his adoptive parents. So he was a little scared. Very, actually. Obviously, he wouldn¡¯t come across monsters or even wild animals. Or, well, at least he hoped he wouldn¡¯t. There was always the threat of an unregistered passage being in there somewhere. Not a big one, but enough to trigger his phobia. Yet, he found it surprisingly easy to grit his teeth and take a step forward. It all left him feeling deeply unsatisfied. At the end of his six months here, all he would gain was an impressive physique, some more power as an arch, and a tier-one body tempering technique¡ªas well as possible consequences of steroid use. Raw gathering could only take one so far. Without expensive treasures or killing monsters, his progress would slow until it hit a brick wall. An impressive-looking body was a reasonable basis for beginning training in martial arts, but it wasn¡¯t good enough on its own. And the generic technique was just a damn luxury. That was more than he had any right to ask for, but he wouldn¡¯t settle for anything less than the most he could get out of this situation. He was getting a lot out of this deal, but not nearly enough to be ready to set out and become a passage delver after it was all done. And he needed to be. While Madame made it seem almost inevitable, he didn¡¯t buy that someone would invest in him just because they thought ¡°he was lucky.¡± He had no delusions about his actual status. He was a nobody. And all he received here was only granted to him because he was useful to Madame. He would be thrown out like a sack of spoiled potatoes when he expired. There was only one thing he could do. No, there was something he had to do¡ªwork as hard as he could and look for a way to take things into his own hands. It didn¡¯t take long to reach the edge of the forest. His palms began sweating, he felt his lunch rushing to his throat, and his knees nearly buckled. A faint shiver moved through his body as he lifted his leg to step onto grass for the first time in almost ten years. It was a mere step. Nothing more, nothing less. Yet, it felt as if it had taken the tiniest of fractions of his troubles away, and he took another to confirm it. Every time he put his foot forward, a piece of nature seeped into his body, rejuvenating some part of him that he had lost through all his time in the concrete jungle. Was this what people meant when they said one should go ¡°touch some grass¡±? Because although he kind of hated to admit it, since that was something his manager used to say all the time, that was some damn good advice. The forest grew sparse, likely being artificially planted trees and only some short bushes. Despite his fears reducing drastically, he still glared at every brush as if it owed him money and ensured he could spot nothing hiding within. The further he went into the wilderness, the wilder it became. His delicate, city-raised skin scratched at contact with some sharp branches, and he started to worry that he¡¯d damage the clothing. However, his worries were for naught since his clothes were made of some damn durable material. While the pond wasn¡¯t far from the streets, it took him an embarrassingly long time to push through the growth and reach it. And once he did¡­ He was a little disappointed. Nobody was here, and it wasn¡¯t hard to puzzle out why. Rather than call this a pond, it was more apt to call it a tiny patch of marsh. It was overgrown with tall grass, with even a few trees growing within the pond itself, and there was an unpleasant smell in the air. A not-so-small part of him was hoping that he would come across some serene, picturesque part of the forest, maybe discover a lonely girl twirling a stick in the water and¡ª He cut the train of thought off before it went too far in that direction and focused on the present. Luckily, there was a tiny patch of sandy clearing he could sit on¡­ But it was on the other side of the pond. And there was no clear path to it. He sighed and began the annoying process of getting there. He slipped on the muddy bank with his first step forth and dipped his entire right foot into the filthy water. ¡°Oh, fuck off.¡± The wet sock sloshed in his dirty sneaker, and a few minutes later, he made it to the patch of sand. Once he did, he sat down, took his shoe and sock off to let them dry, and got into a semi-comfortable stance. He did a few rounds of meditation, stopping only after his soul started hurting. There was, indeed, a plethora of water wisps around him, and he was pleased by his progress in collecting them. Planning to continue his gathering in the Netherecho, especially after he dragged so many water wisps to his immediate vicinity, he left his body¡ª And instantly returned. Vestiges surrounded him. Froggy, dirty, grimy masses of filth and swamp-related concepts were everywhere, and he wasn¡¯t planning on repeating the mistake he made back in his old apartment. If only Bloodshed was here to act as my bodyguard¡­ Oh well. He had no reason to stay here, but he still decided to loiter just a bit longer. The patch of sand was surrounded by thorny growth on all sides, and he wanted to push it away to make a path through it so that he wouldn¡¯t have to walk along the pond¡¯s edge again. He needed something to push the brush aside, so he broke a branch off¡ª Hmm? A distinct, calming feeling radiated through his body. He broke another branch and then kicked a patch of grass, and the same sensation accompanied both actions. There were two possible explanations for this. Either mother nature was a masochist, and the ¡°calming feeling¡± was his reward for being violent with her, or the infinitely more likely explanation¡ªhis talent was triggering when he damaged the plants. ¡°First oysters, and now this?¡± he mused. At first, this didn¡¯t stand out as anything too special. Just a wacky quirk of his talent, something that¡ª ¡°Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait a goddamn second¡­!¡± His talent was triggering against plants!? That was¡­ No, wait, yes? Wasn¡¯t this a pretty big deal? When it activated on the oysters, he hadn¡¯t thought much about it, but didn¡¯t this completely shift the nature of his prime talent? Healing being only usable in combat was a rather strict requirement. What if he were too injured to fight? Having the option of just kicking some bushes around was¡ª ¡°Wait,¡± he said out loud, cupping his chin and pacing in circles. His mind was rushing around a rather important question¡ªwhat about the healing quality? Every time he used the talent, a minor pulse of soothing energy washed over him. Was this just what it felt like to use the ability¡­ Or was it actually healing something? The mere thought of it made his heartbeat speed up. His sore muscles¡­ Immediately, he grabbed the stick and began smacking it around. He tore leaves off, broke more branches, and crushed grass, trying to do as much damage as possible. The more he did so, however, the more concerned he grew¡ªafter all, not even the faint red scratches on his hands were going away. Was he not doing enough damage? Or did the healing¡­? Rather than jumping to conclusions, he decided to push it as far as it would go. He put his wet shoe and sock on, pushed through the growth in a rush, and returned to the streets. He found a hardware store that sold machetes and bought one. It cost forty dollars, and he bought it with his own money. Someone could be observing his purchases with the card, and he wanted to avoid suspicious items on record. As he returned to the forest, the instant he entered the wild area, he started cleaving grass, cutting branches, shredding bushes, and stomping mushrooms. Even some bugs were caught up in his wanton eco-terrorism. The feeling of power that entered his body was addicting, and he spent far longer than he expected fighting the poor plants as if they were his mortal enemies. The intensity of the sensation of his talent activating fluctuated wildly depending on what he did. He didn¡¯t quite understand what worked best, but he allowed the feeling to guide his actions. It took surprisingly, even concerningly, long for the faint scratches on his hands to vanish. After he warmed up a bit, the feeling of soreness in his body subsided. And when he finally cooled down¡­ He grinned. It wasn¡¯t that he felt better after doing this. He felt goddamn perfect. While his arms were tired from swinging the machete around, they didn¡¯t hurt. Nothing did. There was no soreness or muscular pain to speak of. Because it fucking worked. His talent had sped up his muscular recovery! While a small part of him wanted to share this information with his trainer and doctor, he immediately gave up on that. Based on what his doctor said, this could mess something up. Not for a second did he believe it would endanger him, though. In fact, he would bet everything he had that the doctor was worried about it hindering the effect of the steroids. If the man¡¯s treatment failed to work, it could ruin his reputation. Now¡­ as long as he followed the schedule, he couldn¡¯t be held accountable for any unexpected, weird effects that his talent had¡­ right? But they had no reason to worry. He would be giving them the action-hero physique they wanted. Because he was about to begin training in martial arts. As long as he did enough eco-terrorism to recover from his daily workout and then again enough to recover from his personal training, he could dedicate the second part of his day to martial arts. His trainer would undoubtedly notice something was off, but he could probably bullshit his way out of it. He¡¯d just claim it was related to his NDA-locked secret. Extremely pleased, he made a mental note to buy a book about martial arts and healing at the store, hid the machete under a patch of leaves in the forest, and returned to his apartment. He ate a huge dinner, feeling ravenously famished after his machete workout, and then he showered. He grabbed the toothbrush and put it in his mouth while still drying his hair. The mirror before him was clouded with the steam of his hot shower, so he grabbed the small fan and used it to lift the fog. It wasn¡¯t like he needed or wanted to look at himself. It was just¡ª The condensation lifted, revealing his face, and he dropped the fan. It clanged against the sink and skittered across the ground, the sound of it still blowing hot air echoing through the large bathroom, creating a backdrop that harmonized with the sudden ringing in his ears. His face, the same face he had looked at countless times, appeared before him. And the acne scars that plagued his skin, the old, nasty pockmarks of his adolescence¡­ Were almost entirely gone. Chapter 15 - Being a Beginner Freddy watched Mark enter the changing room. The young man was clearly surprised that he had found him already there. ¡°Bit early today, huh?¡± the trainer asked him teasingly. ¡°I was late for one day, and the man already has an opinion of my character, tsk, tsk,¡± he said, clicking his tongue. ¡°I¡¯ll have you know I¡¯ve been an early riser for many years.¡± The man chuckled as he shook his head. ¡°Well, that suits me¡ª¡± he started, but as he approached him, he raised an eyebrow. He stepped a bit closer, shifting his body around to get a look at his client from a few different angles. ¡°There is something different about you,¡± he noted, scratching his chin. ¡°You noticed?¡± he grinned. ¡°My doctor handed me a special cream for acne scars, and it seems to be doing wonders.¡± ¡°Wow, this much better after one day of use? Damn,¡± Mark said, clearly impressed. ¡°Yup,¡± Freddy lied. ¡°It¡¯s some good stuff.¡± ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s pretty insane,¡± the man said, a clear note of disbelief still clinging to his voice. Then he shrugged. ¡°Put the swimsuit on, by the way.¡± He changed the topic. ¡°We¡¯re going to be swimming today.¡± He did so, and the two of them went to the pool. Rather than do anything particularly demanding, they spent their time swimming around, with Mark instructing Freddy to keep his muscles moving. Learning how to swim was surprisingly hard. And that was all they did for that day. Mark presumed his body must be sore, and this day was dedicated to smoothening his physical recovery. The trainer didn¡¯t believe in ¡°rest¡± from working out, as light activity was always better than lazing around. They kept this session short, and Freddy walked away quite ¡°grateful¡± to his trainer. In reality, this was little more than a waste of time for him since he was already fully recovered from all the training they¡¯d done. He soon returned home and picked up a book off a shelf. Healing Arts: A Comprehensive Guide. After brushing his teeth yesterday, he rushed to the bookstore, where he promptly spent nearly three thousand dollars on a guide to water spells. Then, half an hour later, he returned to the store, unfortunately ¡°just discovering¡± that they didn¡¯t do refunds, despite the massive sign stating that, and could only swap the book for another one, or several of the same or lower value. Then, he swapped the water guide for a book on healing arts and a cheap martial arts training guide, adding to precisely the price of the water spell manual. The reason he went through this convoluted process was quite simple¡ªhe didn¡¯t want any strange items on his card record. He doubted that this much would cause someone to investigate what he was doing, but if he consistently kept buying weird things, it could result in someone checking up on him, leading to the doctor finding out about what he was doing. He made his way back home and cracked open his new textbook. Healing ranged from minimal to supreme quality. Minimal quality only stopped the target from bleeding out, doing the bare minimum to keep them alive. In contrast, supreme quality could reconstruct the body on the cellular level, regrow limbs, and even recover from extremely complex ailments, including chronic disorders, otherwise incurable illnesses, and cancer. Oh, and it was the only quality that could remove permanent scar tissue¡ªincluding acne scars. He had known that it was weird. From the moment he saw his face, he was aware that his talent wasn¡¯t ordinary. But as the textbook confirmed it¡­ The feeling was indescribable. All the shame and regret of losing the super farming prime evaporated as pure, unadulterated joy filled his body. He cackled, dancing around the apartment like he¡¯d just won the lottery. Supreme-quality healing was really, really expensive. Having a practically unlimited source of it? It was hard to put a monetary value on such a resource if it was even possible. However, reading more about supreme-quality healing, he learned that this power came with a not-so-insignificant trade-off. First, it was more or less utterly useless in combat. Even knowing that it was only 1% Lifesteal, he had initially made the assumption that it took him so long to recover from his state because he was damaging plants. This wasn¡¯t the case. The answer was much simpler. Whatever energy or concept his talent extracted after he damaged living creatures needed to be piled sky-high for the healing to do anything significant. One could barely even call his state yesterday ¡°injured.¡± Yet, the few light scratches and a bit of muscular soreness required a lot of dedicated eco-terrorism. This would be an absolute deal-breaker if the effect was only functional in combat. But given that it could be used on plant life¡­ It didn¡¯t need to be helpful in fights. It would contribute plenty enough outside it. Countless people were forced into early retirement because they lost a limb or suffered a debilitating injury. For them, the solution was a wildly expensive treatment that could potentially not even make for a full recovery. For him, the solution was just to piss off some environmentalists. He had no doubt that something like losing a limb could take weeks to recover from, but he had that option. He would never be out of the fight as long as he was alive. It was akin to having the ultimate insurance plan. After eating his lunch, packing some food into the bag, taking his supplements, and donning the set of clothing he dedicated to forest-delving, he grabbed the martial arts training guide and ran into the woods. He quickly located the machete and did a bit of forest desecration just to make sure he was in top shape. Then, before starting his training, he pulled the martial arts guide out of his bag and cracked it open. It was nothing special. Granted, it did still cost several hundred dollars, but he was already getting used to obscene pricing. For the most part, it was the absolute, most fundamental basics. A lot of it was off the table, given that he didn¡¯t have a sparring partner or specialized equipment, but the book was good enough at covering everything he could do without those two things. The first was stances. A lot of ¡¯em. Any pose a human could maintain could be used for one reason or another. Core strength and stability were essential to practicing martial arts. Next up was flexibility. He winced at the mass of painful-looking stretches. What stretching he¡¯d done with Mark so far revealed that he was incredibly stiff and had a limited range of motion, to say the least. He couldn¡¯t even fathom how he¡¯d do half of these poses without breaking a bone or something. After that, it covered balance. Anything from basic footing to standing atop a staff, which he wanted to call bullshit on, was covered in this section. Most of the book covered endurance, toughness, strength, agility exercises, and many examples of martial arts moves ranging from simple to more complex. At the very end, however¡­ This was the section where it covered ether techniques, starting with body tempering. The Water Body tempering technique was a decent generic technique. However, its purpose was to balance the body by aiding the flow of water throughout it. Simply put, it was too gentle. This book didn¡¯t provide any ether imprints or even essence flow rune scripts, but it did name and describe many techniques from all common elements. And¡­ oh boy, were they brutal. Tempering techniques didn¡¯t do damage the same way other sources of harm did. Abilities could hurt the user, naturally, but it was different from external sources of damage. Most of the harm one could cause directly to oneself through one¡¯s abilities could also be recovered from, aided by a supernatural concept that acted as a crutch for ability usage¡ªthis concept was called Ethereal Mercy. This meant that tempering techniques could do quite a bit and still permit full recovery. Unless pushed too far. Then, one would either become a cripple or just straight-up die. Even before reaching that point, some were seemingly designed to test the limits of one¡¯s patience, pain tolerance, and willpower. There was one that forced water into muscles to harden them, another that compressed vast quantities of liquid into the body, and even a technique that circulated the water within the body so fast that it made one feel as if they were about to explode. All of these had limited use before they were upgraded to tier one when their effects would grow more directed and substantial, but even then, he couldn¡¯t fathom what kind of freak would subject themselves to something like this. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. Other than that, it also covered some of the standard martial arts techniques. Flowing Rain Martial Arts with the Flowing Strike was, unsurprisingly, the first among the water types. It was as basic as basic could get, and apparently, the book praised it quite highly. It was flexible yet elegant, focused on large, decisive strikes with a ton of momentum behind them, interspersed with faints and parries that flowed right through an opponent¡¯s defense like water through cracked stone. It was a difficult style to master, but it seemed worth the trouble. It didn¡¯t take long for him to learn why the book sang it such high praise. Compared to some of the other bat-shit insane techniques, it was much more acceptable. There was a cerebrospinal fluid¨Cmanipulating technique focused on maximizing one¡¯s reaction time and boosting mental processing speed. It took ages to master, and until then, most users looked like tweaking crackheads while using it. Many were the water-affinity equivalent of blood-rush-style abilities, best for mindless berserker types. It tended to leave men¡­ excited, let¡¯s say. So, yeah, elegant and flexible was good in comparison. He hesitated to settle on Flowing Fist, however. At least, he wasn¡¯t sure whether he wanted to grow the ability he already had. Ether shells made by oneself developed significantly faster than those imbued through an ether imprint. Not only that, but ether imprints were unlikely to create a particularly compatible ability to begin with. It was a matter of testing it out and seeing how it was. If it was good enough, it wouldn¡¯t be worth it to waste time recreating it. That was for later, though. Now, he had to focus on the task ahead¡ªstarting his martial arts training. *** The book was very loose on what kind of order things should be trained in, leaving him with many decisions. Apparently, this was by design, as the book preached independence and ¡°seeking one¡¯s path.¡± Freddy¡¯s foot was seeking the ass of whoever wrote this unhelpful piece of shit, as he had no damn clue where to begin. So he picked the first thing in order and began with stances. After fiddling with a rather basic martial arts stance, a low one with a foot forward, the other to the side, and both knees bent at roughly a forty-five-degree angle, he quickly realized something problematic¡ªhe wasn¡¯t nearly flexible enough for this shit. Hell, he wasn¡¯t even balanced enough to get into the damn stance without falling on his ass. And he was supposed to be able to hold this stance while hopping around!? ¡°All right, not a big deal,¡± he declared. ¡°I¡¯ll just start with flexibility then.¡± A decision that somehow went even worse than the previous one. He already knew that his flexibility was crap, but so did his trainer, and Mark didn¡¯t force him to do anything without gently easing him into it. It didn¡¯t take long to learn why. On his first-ever attempt at doing a split, he realized that the best he could do was roughly thirty degrees. His legs were barely even spread apart, and his crotch already felt like it was about to burst open like a bloody pinata. Taking deep breaths, he tried pushing it ever-so-slightly. After all, it was the only way to improve. He just had to tolerate the pain a bit as he¡ª Freddy adjusted his foot slightly, and it landed on a leaf that treacherously failed to grip the grass beneath, causing him to spread into a much broader split than expected, instantly sending a sharp pang of tearing pain through his groin and causing him to buckle to the floor. ¡°Oh, fuck that hurts!¡± he scream-whispered as he tried his best to ensure that nobody would hear his voice and come to investigate. It hurt like bloody hell, but only when he tried getting up did he realize why Mark was going so easy on him. This was an injury. And it wasn¡¯t a light one, either. Agonizingly crawling to the place he left his machete, he began a limp conquest to regain the structural integrity of his crotch area as he did his best to cleave as much grass as was necessary to help him recover. This seemed to be a lot of grass. He had no way to track the time, and the agony made every second feel like an eternity, so he didn¡¯t have a reasonable frame of reference for how long it took him to heal from the injury. But it sure felt like it took forever, and he felt exhausted afterward. ¡°Hoooo, all right,¡± he said as he lightly spread his legs, checking for the twentieth time whether it still hurt. ¡°Don¡¯t force the splits. Lesson learned.¡± The rest of his workout session was considerably more cautious. When anything felt like it hurt more than it should, he instantly grew hesitant and reflexively stopped doing it. Even beyond that, many of the exercises were terminated halfway through because they were too uncomfortable or inconvenient. Frankly, he was truly starting to feel like nothing but a bitch-made city boy. Bugs crawling on him made him jump as if any damn beetle was a deadly, venomous abomination that could kill him with the tiniest scrapes of its jaw. Random rocks, branches, or even ¡°sharp grass¡± inhibited any pose that required him to lay on the ground. When he had to just hold onto a branch for a while, his poor, delicate hands hurt too much to maintain a grip on the rough wood. By the time his ¡°workout,¡± if one could even call it that, was over, he sat on the ground and cried. He felt so ashamed of himself, and his crying only made him feel more pathetic. What the hell kind of martial artist¡¯s story began like this? He was losing faith in himself by the second. Maybe he really just wasn¡¯t cut out for this¡­ He got up and grabbed the machete. It flew and cut through bush after bush, quickly removing what barely even qualified as damage. Was he cut out for anything? When was the last time he truly felt good at something? His feelings of self-worth rapidly deteriorated under his doubt, and it wasn¡¯t long until he was packing his things and heading home. It was already quite late, and he spent the remainder of his day locked away in his apartment, using the fact that he needed to bulk up to overeat. With his exhaustion and more or less perfect physical health, it didn¡¯t take him long to drift into sleep. *** Freddy yet again appeared in the gym on time, but a bit more mechanically than yesterday. Mark once again noticed a considerable improvement in his skin complexion, and so did he himself. He didn¡¯t care enough to bullshit something, so he just shrugged and said the cream must be doing wonders. Today, they did leg exercises. They started with the regular warm-up and dynamic stretches and immediately jumped into doing squats. The man didn¡¯t even give him the barbell. Figures. He obviously wasn¡¯t qualified to do that yet. Even while doing squats without weight, he shook too much and reflexively resorted to swinging his hands to make it easier. Mark didn¡¯t warn him about it at all. However, when they started the next set, he approached him. ¡°Great job!¡± the man encouraged. ¡°All right, now, to make it a bit more challenging, you will keep your arms in front of you like this.¡± He demonstrated by holding his arms out. Freddy raised an eyebrow at the man and then did as he was told. With every subsequent exercise, a similar thing happened. Rather obviously, he messed something up, but as long as it wasn¡¯t dangerous or put him at risk of injury, Mark just waited it out, then suggested the fix as if it were an ¡°additional challenge,¡± never reprimanding him or making him feel like he was messing something up. This son of a bitch, he thought to himself, unable to keep a small smile off his face. This bastard is actually making me feel better about myself¡­ As they finished today¡¯s session, to his surprise, Mark invited him to have lunch, or rather, brunch, given that it was still relatively early. ¡°What brought this on?¡± he asked his trainer. ¡°Aren¡¯t you going to go do your training today?¡± ¡°No, I gotta go see my family,¡± Mark clarified. ¡°I promised to visit them at least once a week. I¡¯ll do some work on gathering, though.¡± ¡°Oh, nice, nice¡­ So, where do you want to go?¡± ¡°I was thinking of going to my place,¡± Mark said. ¡°I cook for myself.¡± ¡°Really? Shit, dude, you really are Mr. Perfect.¡± Mark chuckled at that, and Freddy scowled at him in faux anger. They made their way back to Mark¡¯s place, which was actually a bit smaller than his own. It was perhaps a bit shameful, but he counted that as at least half a win. The young man wasn¡¯t joking, though. He could cook. After smashing a massive portion of something akin to a lasagna, he was just about ready to go back to sleep. Until he realized something. ¡°Oh shit! This was red meat, right?¡± Mark nodded. ¡°Yeah¡­ Something wrong with that?¡± ¡°Argh!¡± He facepalmed. ¡°I¡¯m not allowed to eat that! ¡°What?¡± Mark nearly got up, panicked. ¡°Are you okay?¡± ¡°No, I mean¡­¡± he groaned. ¡°My doctor gave me a list of things I should and shouldn¡¯t eat, and red meat is on there.¡± ¡°Oh¡­ that¡¯s what you mean,¡± he said, settling back down as he chuckled. ¡°You scared me for a moment.¡± ¡°Dude, this is serious!¡± ¡°No.¡± Mark shook his head a bit. ¡°It kind of really isn¡¯t.¡± Then he grinned a bit. ¡°It¡¯s certainly better for you to avoid it, but come on, that¡¯s already in the realm of perfectionism.¡± Freddy shot him a strange look. ¡°Weird¡­ I thought you were more of a stickler for the rules.¡± ¡°Did you?¡± Mark grinned at him. ¡°Sorry to disappoint.¡± ¡°Oh, wow,¡± he said sarcastically. ¡°Watch out, we got a bad boy over here.¡± Mark laughed at that. ¡°No, I mean¡­ Following every damn rule costs you more willpower and happiness than it¡¯s worth sacrificing. I¡¯d be damn depressed if I couldn¡¯t eat steak. The vague health benefits of avoiding it aren¡¯t worth the sad.¡± ¡°Wise words,¡± he acknowledged with a nod. ¡°Does that mean that I can drink coffee, too!?¡± ¡°Uh¡­ maybe don¡¯t?¡± Mark suggested with a cheeky chuckle. ¡°But what do I know? I never made a habit of drinking it. By the way, let¡¯s move to the Netherecho.¡± Freddy raised an eyebrow at that. ¡°Why?¡± Mark seemed confused by that question. ¡°Why¡­ wouldn¡¯t¡­ we?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­ Just seems like a weird thing to do.¡± ¡°It¡¯s pretty normal.¡± ¡°What?¡± he suddenly grimaced as he made an angry realization. ¡°Am I experiencing culture shock right now?¡± ¡°I¡­ Kind of, yeah. I guess.¡± Mark scratched his cheek. They both summarily dove into the Netherecho. The first thing that he noticed was Mark¡¯s projection. It was at least 50 percent taller than his own, and it looked like a cartoony caricature of an absurdly muscular man. And apparently, the first thing the man noticed was Freddy¡¯s projection. ¡°Holy crap!¡± he said, rushing forward admiringly. ¡°Your projection is so cool!¡± ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°You¡¯ve never seen it?¡± Mark asked, promptly rushing to describe the projection, ¡°You look like a blue grim reaper.¡± Freddy immediately lit up upon hearing that. ¡°That¡¯s so fucking cool. Tell me the details!¡± ¡°So you have the hood, right, and where your face is supposed to be is just like¡­ pure black. With two yellow specks for eyes.¡± He thought this was probably what normal children felt like for Christmas as he got all giddy. ¡°Freddy,¡± Mark said with tension in his voice. There was a noticeable shift in his stance as he got into a battle-ready position and turned to the window. ¡°Run back to your body immediately.¡± Reflexively, he turned to face the window that Mark was turned to and spotted a large, bloody, skeletal arm pushing its way through the glass. Chapter 16 - Flowing Down the Leg of Life The skeleton soon entered the room, clattering to the ground with a splat of blood. Although Mark had reflexively adopted a combat pose, it didn¡¯t take him long to turn around and sprint back to his body. Freddy watched the man vanish, panicking for a different set of reasons. ¡°Why the hell are you here, Bloodshed!?¡± he screamed. How the hell was this even possible!? The remnant paused at that and cocked its skull at him. ¡°I¡­¡± It dropped its head. ¡°I seem to have made a mistake. I will go back immediately.¡± ¡°No, you can¡¯t return now! Aaarrgh!¡± He grabbed his head, mind whirling with thoughts on how to handle this situation. Before he could land on anything, Mark reappeared, rushing at him and screaming in an incredibly high-pitched tone, his words melting together, ¡°Whaddafuckareyoudoing!?¡± He tried forcefully pulling Freddy away, but his projection seemed surprisingly tricky to move. The little blue reaper tried pacifying the mountain of muscle. ¡°Relax, Mark! I know what this is!¡± ¡°If you really knew what this was, you¡¯d shit your pants and die! We have to get out of here!¡± ¡°No, dude, please let me¡ª¡± Mark appeared bewildered, his cartoony eyes practically popping out of his skull as he looked at him and then at Bloodshed, moving his gaze back and forth. ¡°Look, Freddy, I know it seems calm now, but that¡¯s a remnant. Do you get it? Death. We¡¯ll die. It will kill us. It does NOT look peaceful, and their looks are a good sign of their nature, so we! Have! To! Go!¡± ¡°But Bloodshed listens to me!¡± he finally yelled out. ¡°What does that even mean!?¡± Mark asked pleadingly, seeming ready to leave him to fend for himself. ¡°Bloodshed,¡± he called, ¡°are you going to kill us?¡± The skeleton immediately knelt on the ground, its bony skull kissing the floor as it prostrated itself. ¡°I would never harm the Bloody One and his servants.¡± ¡°See?¡± He was slowly beginning to understand why hanging around in the Netherecho was normal. Mark¡¯s jaw hung comically low, reaching nearly halfway down his torso. It was certainly more expressive than reality. ¡°This¡­ This is insane,¡± Mark said, eyeing the prostrated remnant cautiously. ¡°An ether construct obsessed with serving someone? I¡¯ve never heard of that in my life.¡± ¡°Really?¡± He was genuinely surprised to hear that. Mark nodded in confirmation, and after shooting a squinted glare at the remnant, he turned to him. ¡°Do you have any idea how useful that is?¡± ¡°Honestly, no.¡± ¡°Hooo, boy,¡± Mark breathed out as he slumped on the ground. ¡°If I listed all the possible ways you could use that, I¡¯d be here all day.¡± ¡°You gotta be exaggerating,¡± he said disbelievingly. ¡°You¡¯d be surprised at how little,¡± the man said, still eyeing the remnant cautiously. ¡°Here is an example for you. Say you have a powerful ally, hypothetically. If they entered the Netherecho with you to help subjugate a vestige¡ª¡± ¡°It wouldn¡¯t work,¡± he finished the sentence. The guide he had read was rather explicit in stating that the usefulness of external help in the Netherecho was minimal. It was true that one could help another indirectly or, at the very least, keep one safe, but it wasn¡¯t so easy when it came to handling a personified ether construct. If someone beat a vestige half to death, it would be impossible for anyone else to coerce it into their soul. The concept of ¡°subjugation¡± was intrinsically tied to a single person¡¯s actions. Doing it for someone else was like trying to breathe for someone else. ¡°Exactly,¡± Mark confirmed. ¡°However, this thing, on the other hand,¡± he said with a quick nod at Bloodshed, ¡°can subjugate vestiges for you. And it doesn¡¯t count as external help.¡± That was a lot to take in. Judging by what little he knew of ether construct subjugation, something like that could practically skip the entire process. ¡°I can think of many other uses, but we must first discuss something else. There is a reason why I invited you to the Netherecho,¡± Mark said. ¡°Why?¡± ¡°Because it is practically impossible for someone to spy on what you¡¯re doing here.¡± The implication of what Mark said sent shivers down Freddy¡¯s spine. ¡°Do you mean¡­?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± he said, ¡°but I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if someone was watching you.¡± That made chills spread down Freddy¡¯s spine. ¡°What do you mean?¡± he asked anxiously as he waited for the young man to continue. The seated Mark sighed deeply. ¡°Shit, dude, I just learned today that you¡¯re signed with Madame.¡± ¡°What?¡± he spat. ¡°You didn¡¯t know that?¡± ¡°Well, you never told me,¡± the man pointed out. ¡°Weren¡¯t you told at work?¡± ¡°No,¡± he denied. ¡°Well, that was really my fault since I didn¡¯t ask. No offense, but I had no reason to care about who you were,¡± the man said, sighing. ¡°Listen,¡± he said, adopting a grim expression. He then pointed at Bloodshed. ¡°Is this thing related to why Madame needs you?¡± He momentarily contemplated whether disclosing that would break his NDA but eventually nodded in confirmation. ¡°Sort of. Tangentially, at least.¡± ¡°Then it¡¯s probably worse than I thought.¡± ¡°What do you mean?¡± he asked. ¡°Have you ever watched Madame¡¯s show?¡± He nodded. ¡°Quite a few times, actually.¡± ¡°You should know that she never interviews ordinary individuals; hell, she won¡¯t even briefly mention someone without a damn good reason.¡± ¡°What are you trying to say?¡± ¡°Look,¡± the man said. ¡°No offense, but you¡¯re damn clueless. And you just got swept up in something you aren¡¯t qualified to handle properly. I don¡¯t know what the hell got you a place on her show, but I know for a fact that you¡¯re gonna have many eyes on you afterward¡ªtoo many. That¡¯s not a good thing.¡± ¡°That isn¡¯t what I was told,¡± he said, a strange whimper accompanying his voice. ¡°No shit,¡± the man spat crassly. ¡°What did she promise?¡± He hesitated. ¡°She said that some might see potential in me and take me in.¡± Mark scoffed at that. ¡°Does she know about that thing?¡± he said as he pointed at Bloodshed. ¡°No,¡± he denied. ¡°That¡¯s a secret. I can trust you to keep it, right?¡± ¡°Yeah, my mouth is sealed,¡± the man promised. ¡°What about your talent? Can you use your healing on others?¡± ¡°No, I¡ª¡± He froze. How did he know about that? Mark rolled his eyes. ¡°Your acne scars nearly vanished after using your ¡®magical cream¡¯ twice,¡± he said. ¡°Do you take me for an idiot?¡± ¡°Fair enough,¡± he conceded. ¡°Shit, though, how am I gonna hide it from the doctor then?¡± ¡°Look.¡± Mark brought his attention back. ¡°Madame wasn¡¯t lying to you. You will get offers by the dozen. But big organizations won¡¯t care about you at all. They only care about elite talents and backgrounds.¡± ¡°Is that a problem?¡± he asked. ¡°The problem is that anyone who does try to approach you won¡¯t have much to offer,¡± he said. ¡°The only people who will seek you out are middling groups trying to use a rising star to their advantage.¡± ¡°What if I just say no?¡± ¡°Most of them will walk away,¡± Mark said. ¡°But if you¡¯re particularly weak¡­ I¡¯ve seen shit I still can¡¯t believe happened. Some people are simply evil, and particularly among those who are just on the rise¡­ Look, all I¡¯m saying is that I¡¯ve heard stories of people like you, and some of them turn out really¡­¡± He sighed, slumping. ¡°Really poorly.¡± ¡°Oh,¡± Freddy said, trying to laugh but finding his voice shaky. He knew what the man was aiming at. He had seen it himself. Men lashing out at women who rejected them, people getting offended at someone refusing their ¡°generosity¡± when their intent was selfish. He knew better than anyone what an entitled fuck¡¯s response was to rejection by someone they saw as below them. ¡°They¡¯re gonna attack me, aren¡¯t they?¡± he asked, already knowing the answer. Mark reluctantly nodded. ¡°Oh, great!¡± he exclaimed. ¡°Some piece of shit might try to kill me! Great!¡± he yelled, laughing shakily. ¡°That¡¯s just my life! Just what I fucking need! Every goddamn time I reach a puddle, I have to cross a desert to get to the next one!¡± ¡°Calm down! These people won¡¯t be elites; you just have to¡ª¡± ¡°I can¡¯t!¡± he screamed hysterically. ¡°I fucking can¡¯t, Mark!¡± His projection began crying large, cartoony tears that disappeared into the ground. ¡°I am stupid, and I suck at everything!¡± ¡°If you work¡ª¡± ¡°I can¡¯t do that, either!¡± he declared. ¡°I don¡¯t have what it takes! I have no resources or knowledge! My talent is nonexistent, and I don¡¯t even have the grit to fucking work for it! I am surrounded by nothing but misery!¡± The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Mark looked like he kept trying to say something, but every time his mouth opened, it closed again. ¡°Master,¡± Bloodshed called and began walking toward him. Mark turned to the creepy remnant, swallowing and causing a prominent bulge to travel down his throat. He stood frozen, clearly unable to stop the remnant but visibly contemplating trying to do it anyway. ¡°You are indeed surrounded by misery¡ª¡± it said. That actually got him to chuckle a bit. Even an ether construct literally obsessed with him agreed with his words. ¡°¡ªfor your existence extinguishes all hope.¡± It stopped right over his body, gently caressing a bony hand over his hood, shocking him out of his self-deprecating state. ¡°When I was born, Master, you were fated to die,¡± it said. ¡°Stop it, Bloodshed,¡± he said, inching away from it. Then, seeking some comfort in humor, he joked, ¡°You¡¯re violating my NDA.¡± ¡°Do not be afraid, my lord,¡± it consoled him, bowing before him. ¡°Anyone who seeks your life will lose theirs instead. I wager my existence on it.¡± The bloody bone man didn¡¯t take long to make the mood extremely awkward. Mark used the opportunity to very poignantly gesture at their true bodies in an attempt to get as far from the massive remnant as possible. Rather than leave the Netherecho, he turned to the remnant. ¡°Hey, Bloodshed, please wait in the corner over there.¡± ¡°As you wish.¡± And the skeleton obeyed. Freddy stood for a while with his back turned to Mark and eventually gathered up the courage to speak. ¡°Sorry for venting like that,¡± he said. ¡°No¡­ I¡­ Sorry, I¡­ I didn¡¯t know what to say¡­¡± ¡°You¡¯re a good guy,¡± Freddy stated. ¡°And don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m not giving up on myself. I just needed to get that out of my system.¡± He turned around. ¡°Yesterday I¡­ I realized something. When I had to use some willpower, I found it lacking. My body is weak and sick from lack of use. And so is my determination.¡± His words petered out as he glanced at his tiny, blue, gloved hand poking out of the long sleeves. ¡°Does that mean that I¡¯ve never really used it? Or maybe I just wasn¡¯t using willpower as much as I thought? ¡°For so long, I thought I was working hard and doing my best. But I think I just confused a difficult life with fighting for a better one. Do you know how it feels to realize that?¡± he asked, his voice shivering again. ¡°I mean, who am I even? I thought I knew who I was, but now I think I was just delusional. I didn¡¯t see nature for so long, not because I didn¡¯t have the time, but because I never pushed myself to do it. I am weak and sick because I was too lazy to stay physically active. ¡°I¡¯ve just been cruising through, fully convinced that I¡¯m tough shit when I was actually diarrhea, flowing down the pants of life.¡± ¡°Pfff!¡± Mark snorted and clamped his mouth shut. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, but¡ª¡± ¡°Hahaha, what the fuck did I just say?¡± he laughed. Mark chuckled, too. ¡°Oh God, that¡¯s something, dude.¡± They laughed it out for a while, and Mark finally stepped over, placing a giant hand on his robed shoulder. ¡°But I think I understand your problem a bit better now. You¡¯re right. Willpower is exactly like a muscle. If you don¡¯t use it, it won¡¯t develop.¡± He slumped a bit, but Mark shook him out of it before he could slip into his self-pitying state. ¡°Nuh-uh, none of that. Keep your head high. Willpower can grow. You¡¯ve learned something new about yourself today, and you shouldn¡¯t use that as an excuse to run away from your problems. They won¡¯t go away on their own.¡± The depressed reaper looked up, nodding his head slightly. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, though. I might be wrong. I¡¯ve learned that it¡¯s best to be cautious, but that doesn¡¯t mean you¡¯ll get in trouble. In the worst-case scenario, you could hide somewhere until everything blows off. Besides, you have my help, a good talent, and that creepy thing that¡¯s¡­ looking at me from the corner¡­ We have to do something about that. Wait, be right back.¡± Mark jogged to his body and vanished into it. Moments later, his body vanished as well. Moving things didn¡¯t appear within the Netherecho unless their movement was repetitive. Which begged the question of how Bloodshed could interact with his body even when he was outside. Did it have some sort of strange connection to him? Before long, a large, opened plastic bag flashed into existence, likely placed there by Mark, who also entered the Netherecho. ¡°Can you tell that thing to get in the bag?¡± He nodded and told Bloodshed to get inside. After it did, they left the Netherecho, and Mark walked over to the plastic bag on the floor. He promptly closed it and crumpled it into a small ball. ¡°No!¡± He panicked. ¡°Why the fuck would you do that!?¡± ¡°Relax!¡± Mark raised his hands. ¡°It¡¯s safe! Trust me,¡± he urged, blinking violently, hoping Freddy kept his mouth shut about the thing in the bag. He realized what the man was aiming at. ¡°Okay, I trust you. I just thought that all the¡­ uhm¡­ wisps would go to waste,¡± he said vaguely, hoping to throw off anyone who might be listening in on them. The man enthusiastically latched on to the string Freddy offered. ¡°Yeah, you can transport a clump of wisps like this. Just make sure that they don¡¯t. Leave. The. Bag,¡± the man said pointedly. ¡°Whaaat?¡± he gaped. ¡°I wish I knew that sooner. That¡¯s really convenient.¡± ¡°It most certainly is. Now, I must hurry since I¡¯ll miss my ride home,¡± the man said as he handed Freddy the bag, which he quickly placed into his pocket. ¡°We¡¯ll talk tomorrow, and for today, just do what you think you should.¡± They shook hands and parted ways. Freddy was left with a lot to think about. There was no way he could tolerate waiting around, especially not after hearing what Mark had to say, but he was hesitant. There was resistance to going to those woods, revulsion to the thought of embarrassing himself again. There was a risk that someone might be watching him. What was it that the young man told him? Willpower was indeed like a muscle? If that was so, then¡­ It was about time he started working it out. *** The only reason Bloodshed¡¯s actions weren¡¯t causing bloodshed was because vestiges couldn¡¯t bleed. The pond that had until recently been infested with nasty stuff was now free of such invaders and literally bursting with water affinity wisps. There was a slight fear that someone might notice the remnant in the Netherecho, but it was unlikely that anyone would spot it even if he was being watched. Even a five-star archhuman had a maximum range of fifty meters they could see in the Netherecho. Besides, it wasn¡¯t like anyone had a reason to spy on the Netherecho around him. He was pleased to see Bloodshed¡¯s work as he left and began a session of meditative gathering. This time, when his soul started hurting, he kept pushing on. As far as willpower exercises were concerned, this might have been the best one. No matter how much he pushed, it wouldn¡¯t hurt him in any real way. Total inability to continue preceded soul injuries by quite a bit. That wasn¡¯t to say he could reach such a state just because he felt motivated. However, as one wisp after another flowed into his soul, reaching nearly thirty consumed, with the pain threatening to knock him out, it was clear that he was willing to try. Finally collapsing, he breathed heavily, experiencing the flavor of torment specific to soul exhaustion. It didn¡¯t feel good, to say the least. Once it went away, he felt thoroughly drained and depressed, and he wanted to sleep. But he delved into the Netherecho instead. The water vestiges he had attracted were packed into a dense cocoon around him, and he hopped around collecting them until they grew scarce. Doing so with his soul in such a state only drained him further, but he mustered the will to get up. As soon as he did, a peculiar thought wormed its way into his mind. I¡¯ve done quite a bit today, he thought. I¡¯m pretty proud of myself already, he argued. Maybe I can stop it here. But before such thoughts could take root, he crushed them and walked over to a nearby tree. Mark had told him to do what he thought he needed to. And after careful pondering, he landed on one pretty obvious option. His pain tolerance was just pathetic. Hell, even his ¡°vague discomfort¡± tolerance wasn¡¯t all that impressive. It wasn¡¯t an exaggeration to say that the amount of pain one had experienced was a suitable measure of their overall power, if only an approximate one. So there was only one thing left to do. It was time to feel some pain, he thought, as he got ready to punch a damn tree. The fact that someone might be around and watching him was unnerving. But he wasn¡¯t concerned about that. Given how liberally he was using his talent, there was no way to avoid having the doctor notice that something strange was happening. If he wanted to use it, he¡¯d have to disclose that he was doing so. It really shouldn¡¯t be a problem, however. With what he knew of supreme-quality healing, if anything, it would make the doctor¡¯s job much easier. Putting that behind him, he focused on the task at hand. The brown, uneven bark of the tree looked rough and rugged. The last thing he wanted to do was punch it. But he willed himself to do it anyway. He just swung at it with his left hand, trying not to break his hand in the process. Unfortunately, the nonexistent form, coupled with a lack of confidence, resulted in a middle finger injury that hurt like hell. He shook his hand in a futile attempt to make it go away. ¡°Mmmm, yeah, that sucks.¡± The thought of quitting leaped at the opening, but he repelled it. ¡°No! None of that shit! You¡¯re a man! Who¡¯s a man? You! Now, be a man, and get ready to punch some damn wood!¡± He tried slapping his face in a ¡°manly¡± attempt to psych himself up and, unfortunately, decided to do it with his left hand, resulting in a pang of pain spreading through his arm again. ¡°Fuu¡ªNo, no, pain good, it good, yes,¡± he tried convincing himself, squeezing hard to stop his tears from surfacing. Then he readied his right fist, squeezing it harder and preparing himself for a serious punch. A punch that fluttered out into a not-so-manly pose as he realized something¡ªhow would he swing the machete if both his hands were messed up? No problem. He¡¯d kick the tree instead. Landing kicks with shoes on wasn¡¯t particularly painful, so he just hit his with his shin instead¡ª ¡°Aaaaaah!¡± he yelped as he collapsed, aggressively rubbing the impact area. He breathed like a woman giving birth, then groaned with gritted teeth, and finally settled on something akin to caveman sounds, cradling his leg as if it were an injured child. It took quite a while for the pain to subside, and once he got up, he decided he¡¯d just do punches and figure it out later. Hey, if someone was watching, he would be rescued if he was in trouble. Right? ¡­Right? ¡°Okay, Fred, you got this.¡± His left hand still hurt like hell, with a lot of the pain flashing up his forearm, but he reasoned that whatever that was would go away after some plant molestation. This time, he ensured that his fists were sealed tight, even if he didn¡¯t have the strength to keep them like that for long. Still, after the first punch, he realized it wasn¡¯t that bad. As long as his fist didn¡¯t land awkwardly, he could kind of do it. He started with feeble punches and gradually amped them up. Occasionally, he¡¯d land with his knuckle or stub a finger and reel in pain, but he pushed through it and kept going, sweating like mad. It wasn¡¯t long until he noticed something. The faintest flickers of lifesteal could be felt from this. He clearly wasn¡¯t gonna kill the tree with punches like these, but it was enough to tell that he was actually doing some damage. His talent felt good to use. Really good. At first, that wasn¡¯t something he actively noticed, but now he realized it was kind of addicting. As he acclimated to the pain in his hands, his punches grew ever stronger, seeking more life from the unmoving plant. More. He wanted more. Suddenly, his left fist landed close to the hardest he could punch, and he felt something crack. *** Mark¡¯s head was cluttered with thoughts of all that happened today as he made his way off the floating carriage and toward the platform that would take him up to his home island. He didn¡¯t know why he went out of his way to help Freddy like that. It was the right thing to do, sure, but getting personally involved with a guest on Madame¡¯s show¡­ He would be fine, he thought. He hoped. It was hard to ignore the suffering of someone his age. People were like that. All you needed was one thing in common and¡ª ¡°Mr. Afronte?¡± a somewhat pretentious voice came from behind, and he turned to face it. A slick, gray-suited, short man with side-combed hair gelled to high hell called for him, and he already knew this person was here to sell him something. Usually, he would just ignore him, but this was potentially problematic given that the man somehow knew his name. He¡¯d hear him out, if anything, to see whether he should report him to the authorities. ¡°I¡¯m so glad to have run into you,¡± the man said, acting familiar. ¡°I was just on my way to your address.¡± Well, that made things even worse. ¡°With all due respect, sir, I would like to know why you are stepping into contact with me,¡± Mark said politely, but with enough edge to make anyone realize that it was a little more than a veiled threat. Anyone except this man, apparently. ¡°Yes, yes, yes, I will get to that shortly.¡± He pulled clearly decorative glasses out of his pocket and put them on, adjusting them with his middle finger and pulling out some paper. ¡°I¡¯m a journalist, and I¡¯d just like to ask you a few questions.¡± That somehow simultaneously made him more annoyed yet more relaxed. At least that explained his sliminess and privacy intrusion. Now, it was time for this man to berate him about his time at the academy and¡ª ¡°At your new job, I believe you are working with a man named Freddy Stern. Is that correct?¡± Chapter 17 - Immortal Freak Mark¡¯s gaze was among the coldest he had ever given anyone. ¡°With all due respect, sir,¡± he said, keeping his back straight and maintaining eye contact. ¡°I have no interest in sharing my clients¡¯ personal information. Have a good day,¡± he spat as he turned around and continued walking over to the levitating platform. ¡°I¡¯m not asking for much!¡± The man insisted, but Mark summarily ignored him. ¡°You have a sister, correct?¡± His steps halted. He turned around with abject fury in his eyes. The man saw this and rushed to defend himself. ¡°No! No, no, God forbid, I¡¯m not insinuating anything! I merely wanted to give you a sugges¡ª¡± ¡°Get out of my sight,¡± he spat. ¡°This conversation is over.¡± ¡°She will go to the academy, right?¡± ¡°Why are you still talking?¡± he said, taking a few steps toward the man. ¡°I can help out!¡± the man replied, raising his arms in defense and taking a step back. ¡°With what?¡± he fired. ¡°I have a few connections at the academy. I could make the acceptance process go a bit more smoothly.¡± ¡°She¡¯s alrea¡ª¡± Mark started and halted, seeing no reason to disclose anything. Without parting words, he turned around again and started walking away, showing no intent to stop this time. ¡°It can get complicated, you know,¡± the man shouted. ¡°You are never guaranteed a spot at the academy until the semester begins.¡± But his words went ignored. ¡°This is your final chance,¡± he said, his voice turning slightly less slimy and annoying and just a bit more serpentine. Mark¡¯s feet halted yet again, and he turned around once more, this time ready to throw hands if the bastard didn¡¯t shut up. But as he faced the journalist, he found himself hesitating. Something about him had changed. Gone was the slightly hunched, weak asshole. In his stead stood someone who had been playing a persona, and like a snake shedding its skin, his mask had been cast away. This was nothing but an attempt to plant doubt into Mark¡¯s mind. And he knew better than to fall for it. ¡°As I already said,¡± he provided. ¡°Have a good day.¡± The man hadn¡¯t stopped him then, merely nodding as he turned around and left. The tiniest of shreds of worry wormed into his mind as he stepped on the levitating platform, and he knew he would sleep poorly that night. *** The sun was setting. Freddy was sprawled out on the forest floor, grime and filth be damned. His entire body shook, and he still felt pain in his wrists. Fatigue had settled deeply into his body. That day had been a rather educational one. First, he learned that his talent didn¡¯t heal him from a lack of energy. Either that or it had been too preoccupied with reconstructing his shattered finger, which had taken him the better part of the day to put back together. That was the first time he had ever broken a bone. Truly, if there was a stupid idea championship¡ª No. Freddy cut that train of thought off. Because what he had achieved today wasn¡¯t just a stupid injury. It was victory. Over himself and¡­ maybe not over the tree, but still. It hurt so bad, but it hadn¡¯t been unbearable. Could he do it again? Hesitantly, but yes. He believed he could. For that day, that was enough. Mainly because he wasn¡¯t sure that his body could properly recover the lost energy. He still had exercise to do tomorrow. Bloodshed happily jumped into the bag again, having spent the entire day slaughtering the vestiges scattered throughout the forest. He could swear that it appeared slightly bigger than before. Maybe he shouldn¡¯t let it loose too often. If it turned into a spirit, that could spell trouble. Frankly, the fact that it had defied his orders to stay in the storage room hung heavily on his mind. As he watched the blood skeleton slowly make its way into the bag he would carry it in, he couldn¡¯t help but worry that his knowledge of this construct was incomplete. Something about it felt different from the myriad vestiges and remnants he had seen scattered around this community. And, as he believed to be pretty understandable, that made him scared shitless. After leaving the Netherecho, he sighed and crumpled the bag, placing it into his pocket. The bag was no heavier despite the remnant it was carrying. It shouldn¡¯t be. The machete went to its regular hiding spot, and he went home, falling asleep almost as soon as his face landed on the pillow. *** Freddy sat beside Mark in the locker room, frowning. His trainer had just finished retelling the story of the creepy journalist, leaving both of them with a bad taste in their mouth. ¡°Mark¡­¡± he started. ¡°I really appreciate that you listened to me and stayed, but¡ª¡± ¡°No,¡± the man rejected him immediately. ¡°I¡¯m not gonna quit. It wouldn¡¯t change much at this point. Even if I leave, I¡¯ll still likely get a few visits from prying pricks. Besides,¡± he said as he got up, ¡°it¡¯s not a big deal anyway. Pestering people is strictly in my community. Stepping into contact with someone once isn¡¯t illegal, but trying to intimidate residents or repeatedly harass them is frowned upon, to say the least. I¡¯ve already made the report, and that guy won¡¯t be making an appearance again.¡± ¡°Hmph,¡± Freddy scoffed. ¡°That¡¯s some fancy rules you got there.¡± Mark shrugged with a sly smile. ¡°What can I say? I would never catch a break from all the women otherwise.¡± ¡°Oh, fuck off, you bastard,¡± he said, grinning. The two of them proceeded to the gym, and Mark asked, ¡°What did you do yesterday, by the way?¡± ¡°Broke a finger,¡± he bragged. ¡°Huh?¡± the man blubbered. ¡°You¡­ You good?¡± ¡°Yeah, already healed. See?¡± he bragged as he lifted his hand. ¡°Good as new.¡± Mark shot him a strange look. ¡°How does your talent even work? You don¡¯t need to share it if you¡ª¡± ¡°Nah, it¡¯s fine,¡± he said, briefly describing 1% Lifesteal. ¡°Damn¡­¡± Mark breathed out. ¡°That¡¯s honestly insane.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± he confirmed, brimming with pride. ¡°But it comes with a few caveats.¡± ¡°Like what?¡± ¡°Well, first, I doubt it will be much use in combat.¡± Mark opened his mouth but paused to think about it before nodding slightly. ¡°Yeah, I can see that. For now, at least.¡± Today, they did biceps and shoulders; this time, the green-eyed blonde trainer had significantly less mercy to show. ¡°Mate,¡± Freddy spat. ¡°What am I gonna do with that?¡± He pointed at the five-kilogram dumbbells the man was handing him. ¡°Lift them over your head like this.¡± Mark demonstrated. ¡°Are you sure?¡± he asked cautiously. ¡°That seems a bit heavier than most stuff we¡¯ve done.¡± ¡°Oh, come on, this is light as all hell. Besides, I had to ensure that you didn¡¯t injure yourself before. Now that I know that won¡¯t be a problem¡­¡± He wiggled his eyebrows. ¡°You¡¯re kidding,¡± Freddy said with a deadpan expression. ¡°Nope,¡± Mark cheerfully denied, giving him a thumbs-up and flashing a cheeky grin. ¡°Are you allowed to do this?¡± he asked with a sneer. ¡°What about the contract?¡± ¡°Depends,¡± Mark responded in kind. ¡°Are you willing to remain injured just so that I¡¯ll lose my job?¡± He clicked his tongue. ¡°Just give me those, you bastard.¡± The man cackled evilly. ¡°Let¡¯s see how hard you can go. This should be fun.¡± It wasn¡¯t fun at all. The man seemed to extract some sort of sick pleasure from tormenting Freddy. ¡°Just one more,¡± Mark said as he lifted the barbell in a forward raise. ¡°Okay, now juuust one more.¡± ¡°You¡ªkuh!¡± he groaned, blinking sweat out of his eyes. ¡°You said that three times already!¡± ¡°Okay, but this is seriously the last one,¡± Mark lied. They continued the grueling workout, finishing with a run that left Freddy gasping for breath. ¡°Is this¡­ Is this how it¡¯s gonna be every time?¡± he asked, feeling unsure that he would survive if things continued like this. ¡°Nope. It will be way harder,¡± Mark said, grinning at his miserable expression. ¡°I¡¯m changing the schedule. We¡¯ll cut it down to only four days. We¡¯ll do push-pull-legs, and add an extra day to wrap it up,¡± Mark said as he picked up his water bottle and took a swig. ¡°What the fuck does any of that mean?¡± ¡°Push day will cover upper-body muscles that push things away from you. So, your chest, front shoulders, traps, and triceps. Then we¡¯ll do pull, which is back and biceps. Leg day is self-explanatory. And we¡¯ll add one day to train your core, work on your neck, forearms, a few isolated muscles, and do a ton of cardio.¡± ¡°That seems fun,¡± he said sarcastically, gasping for breath. ¡°It will be,¡± Mark said, but not in a joking tone. ¡°I mean it. Once you get into it, exercise can get pretty addicting. The rush of adrenaline, endorphins, and the feeling of personal growth and triumph. It¡¯s some good stuff.¡± Freddy wanted to shoot him a snarky retort, but he thought back to yesterday and nodded. ¡°Yeah. That actually does seem pretty fun.¡± *** Freddy found himself in the forest again, this time with Mark at his side. He had just finished his plant slaughter, and his trainer looked like he could barely believe it. ¡°That actually works? Don¡¯t get me wrong, this isn¡¯t the strongest talent I¡¯ve seen, not by a long shot, but it just seems¡­ like this really shouldn¡¯t work.¡± ¡°I sure am glad it does, though,¡± he said. ¡°Now,¡± Mark barked as he adopted a more serious tone. ¡°I can¡¯t afford to be your trainer 24/7, so you¡¯d better do your best today. I will show you what proper martial arts practice looks like. Do your best.¡± As he had already assumed, martial arts practice was hard to do when you were by yourself in the woods. Mark knew this quite well and did his best to teach him all he could. It came down to a lot of repetition. Mark promised to ensure that his muscles would be trained well enough through what they¡¯d do at the gym, so that left a ton of technique. Again, as was to be expected, without guidance or a partner, actually learning how to fight was tricky business. It was akin to trying to learn piano without¡­ well¡­ a piano. But that didn¡¯t mean studying music theory or practicing your dexterity was worthless. From how to hold stances to how to switch between them; how to throw a punch to how to launch a kick. Many athletic achievements served an essential purpose, like doing a backflip, a headstand, climbing a tree quickly, landing a kick after a quick spin, and so on. And finally, he had to be flexible. ¡°Let me see your split,¡± Mark said. Those words made him tense up, but he soon did one. ¡°That¡¯s the best you can do?¡± the man asked, eyeing his legs with squinted eyes. ¡°We are gonna have to change that.¡± Mark stepped forward and put his foot under Freddy¡¯s, pushing it further. ¡°Ow! Dude, what the¡ª¡± ¡°Forcing splits is incredibly stupid, and all that it will result in is an injury. For normal people, that is. For you, though¡­ You can take a shortcut.¡± *** Freddy¡¯s ass finally touched the ground as he did a full split, not even an hour after they started. He was sweating profusely and did not look happy. Mark had simply forced his legs apart, as wrong as that sounded, all the way until it started hurting more than it should, and then told him to heal. Rinse and repeat, and voila, full split acquired. Although he did not like the experience, he had to admit that it was quite satisfying to see such rapid progress. ¡°I think we should do your back next,¡± said Mark. He contemplated running away. *** After a few arduous hours and quite a few back, shoulder, elbow, knee, and just-about-every-tendon-and-joint-in-the-body injuries later, Freddy was an impressively flexible man. Anything from giving himself a handshake behind the back to some freaky back bending to crossing his legs behind his head was entirely within his abilities. It felt damn liberating to achieve such an extensive range of movement, even if the acquisition method had been quite dubious. Very painful, too. Still, any ¡°injury¡± Mark inflicted on him healed much faster than the stuff he had inflicted upon himself, showcasing just how well-versed the young man was in matters of the human body. There was one thing he couldn¡¯t ignore, however. ¡°The results are plain to see, yeah, but don¡¯t you think you¡¯ve been a bit way too fucking harsh to me today?¡± he accused. Even as a favor, there was such a thing as taking it too damn far. Mark shrank a bit upon hearing that and nodded meekly. ¡°Yeah. I was. Sorry.¡± Although he wanted to be angry at him, it was hard to do so with the results so readily apparent. Not to mention that this was something the man was doing for his sake. So rather than say anything, he sat on the ground a bit to the side of Mark and waited. ¡°It isn¡¯t okay, man,¡± Mark said. ¡°This whole thing with that creepy shithead left me in a bad place.¡± ¡°You think he¡¯s gonna do something?¡± This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. ¡°I don¡¯t think he can. He shouldn¡¯t be able to anyway. Maybe I¡¯m just being paranoid¡­¡± He patted the man on his massive back, and with a slight and short-lived smile, Mark nodded in gratitude. ¡°Now,¡± he said as he got back up again. ¡°We still have quite a few things to cover.¡± *** Freddy practically crawled from the hallway into his room. Showering after a day like that was pretty up there with one of the most challenging things he¡¯d done. He had been so sure that he had healed perfectly, but the echoing aches let him know that he would have to make extra sure that he was fully healed after a day like this. After all was done, he made a few conclusions. Apparently, smashing his body against a tree was the right idea since an excellent way to get tough was to repeatedly bludgeon yourself until you no longer felt it. While successful backflips were cool, unsuccessful ones were agonizing, and finally, he hoped that he was dropped on his head as a kid or something. Why? Because his lack of coordination was so terrible that it better have been an injury he could heal from. Mark hadn¡¯t been enthusiastic about his prospects as a martial artist, but, in the man¡¯s own words¡ªas long as he was alive, he could afford to fail as catastrophically as was necessary for him to learn. Although he had technically recovered from all that had been done to him, his energy level was so low that he could eat a whole cow. After smashing a record-breaking three full meals in the kitchen, exhaustion knocked him out before he could even get off the chair. *** Starting the day by arriving late would usually be a sign of poor discipline, but on that day, it had been anything but. When Freddy woke up, the first thing he realized was that he had greatly underestimated the state of his body. He had been in so much agony that he could barely get out of bed. Thus, it hadn¡¯t been too hard to explain to Mark that he had to run to the woods and do some quick eco-terrorism to put himself back into shape. Which was the right choice to make, given that, on that day, his new schedule began. For the second time, he was doing chest exercises, and this time, Mark told him to just lift the barbell on its own. That was a tall demand since he had done two three-kilogram dumbbells last time. The barbell was marked ¡°20kg¡±¡ªnearly thrice as heavy as his previous record. ¡°Are you sure I can do this?¡± he asked Mark cautiously. ¡°Just trust me. I¡¯ll spot you.¡± ¡°Okay, then.¡± He was instructed on how to grip the barbell, and with a few deep breaths, arching his back, and firmly planting his feet, he pushed. The barbell lifted off the rack surprisingly easily, and he nearly dropped it from how much he overcompensated for its weight. It was still hefty, and the last few reps took much effort but not nearly as much as he expected they would. He finished a full eight reps and put it back on the rack, nearly exploding with excitement. ¡°That was so easy!¡± ¡°You¡¯d better cherish this, boy,¡± Mark said in a weird accent. ¡°Beginner growth is a precious thing, indeed.¡± ¡°What are you,¡± he asked, ¡°some sort of kung fu master?¡± ¡°Hmm, yes, you seek a lashing, I see?¡± ¡°No, Master,¡± he replied, putting his fist into his palm. They both chuckled at each other¡¯s antics. Freddy looked up again. ¡°Seriously though, am I gonna get thrice as strong every time I work out?¡± Mark scoffed at that. ¡°Sedentary muscles go into a sort of hibernation. If you don¡¯t need them, your body doesn¡¯t want to spend unnecessary resources on maintaining them. Merely making the flip from inactive to active makes a huge difference, and I suspect your talent might have sped that process along.¡± Sped that process along, indeed. But it felt like there was more to it than that. His eyes slid down his forearm as he felt¡­ weird. His body felt light. Usually, moving hurt. Straining his muscles felt uncomfortable in a way that he hadn¡¯t recognized until that moment when he found that feeling suddenly absent. They proceeded with the rest of the workout. It was some of the most fun he had ever had. He felt like an entirely different person. No longer did some of the absurd weights people were lifting around him seem like an impossible accomplishment. He usually avoided looking at his body since he felt a little ashamed of it, but he couldn¡¯t help but catch a glimpse of himself in a mirror in the locker room. His scars were gone. His shoulders were a bit less bony, and his torso was no longer just a flat, saggy surface of sickly white. What stood in that reflection was a somewhat skinny man. But he was full of life, flushed red with light reflecting off his sweat-drenched body. And there were just the faintest hints of strength beginning to appear. *** Mark had instructed Freddy to exercise shirtless and bare-footed, wearing only skimpy shorts. Primarily so that he¡¯d get some of that precious vitamin D and expose himself to the elements. While his barely dressed form wasn¡¯t a problem, not having shoes was an utter pain in the ass. ¡°Ow, fuck my life!¡± For the twentieth time that day, he stepped into something sharp in the grass and injured the delicate bottom of his foot. Just standing was tricky with how soft his feet were, and his compromised footing ruined nearly everything else. He wouldn¡¯t permit that for long, though. He repeatedly kicked the harsh bark with the bottom of his foot, healing it whenever it started to bleed. It didn¡¯t develop the toughness he wanted even after hours of doing so, but merely acclimating to the pain was enough to put it out of his mind. He fell over many times. He landed many awkward strikes on the tree. He failed to maintain a stance as long as he should. But any time he failed, he took a deep breath, healed if needed, and continued to work. Toward the end of the day, he sat in a spot where he specifically instructed Bloodshed to gather water-affinity wisps. The obedient remnant had done its job, creating an impressive cloud of water-affinity ether. When he meditated, the storm of wisps flooded his soul, pushing him into too much pain to handle almost immediately. But compared to the drop of dew off a blade of grass he¡¯d received so far, this session felt like he¡¯d drank a full glass of water. Freddy got up, walking over to a tree. He was finally confident enough to use Flowing Strike on a target. It probably wasn¡¯t going to be pretty. He fully expected to break a finger again, so he would use his left arm. Getting into the pose, he pulled from the ether shell in his soul, and essence flowed through it, forming a series of waves that traveled through his blood. The water in his body bounced from one end to the other, gradually losing momentum with every cycle. He felt it reaching his fingertips, and he clenched his fist. Now, the momentum gathered in his entire hand. He pulled it back, feeling the shift in the flow in his body. Timing the punch perfectly would be challenging, but as long as he ensured that the momentum served to add force to his strike rather than take it away, he would be satisfied. It was hard to keep track of the sensation in his body, so he closed his eyes and focused. Tick. Tick. Tick. Like the chimes of a bell, the tips of his fingers reverberated with every change in momentum. Until finally¡­ Now! His eyes shot open, and his fist flew forward, carrying the full force of the water in his body; just as the strike landed, so did the wave catch up, almost perfectly synchronizing the ability with his punch. The burst of pressure crushed his knuckles, blew his nails off his fingers, and instantly turned his entire hand purple. His elbow hurt like hell, and his shoulder seemed to be dislocated. He wailed with gritted teeth, bewildered at how severely that damaged him. The rest of his day was spent frantically smashing plants, and by the time night arrived, he was still busy cleaving through the grass. It took far too long to recover from this injury, and he now knew that severe damage could easily cost him an entire day. But the fear of that wasn¡¯t as prevalent as he expected it would be. For the point of impact where he landed his punch¡­ Had left a slight, fist-shaped mark on the tree. *** Despite eating a large breakfast, Freddy was still starving as he finished the pull-day workout. On his trip home, he ate a large lunch and even packed some food to take to the woods. He went through his routine, focusing on all the advice Mark had given him. He used Flowing Strike, and then, following along with the momentum, he merely sought the moves that best complemented that flow, swinging his limbs at empty air. Large, full-body movements, like a tsunami falling on his enemies, seemed the best for allowing the technique to shine and felt the most natural to use. Any of the fancier moves were utterly beyond him, and until he understood martial arts well enough, he¡¯d stick to the basics. It didn¡¯t take that long for his essence to run out, and when it did, he noticed something alarming. His hands and feet were blue. That was where the momentum concentrated, so it was natural that his weak capillaries and veins couldn¡¯t keep it contained. Usually, this was where Ethereal Mercy kicked in. But the problem was that he had already been doing this for a while. And he was starting to lose feeling in his extremities. Given that this was probably, most likely, definitely a goddamn emergency, he hurriedly worked to heal it. The rest of the day was spent holding stances, hitting trees, and working on maintaining his flexibility. *** The next day went smoothly, but his appetite grew so voracious that it was beginning to hinder his schedule. He snuck into the locker room four times to get a snack, using the excuse that he needed to use the toilet. And once, he wasn¡¯t even lying. His stomach rumbled like a wild animal, and the call of nature couldn¡¯t be ignored. For the second half of the day, yet again, he worked on his Flowing Strike; this time, his extremities were less bruised. *** The fourth day was by far the least fun since it mainly focused on cardio. The hunger was so bad that he considered drinking raw oil to get his calories. And when he stepped into the locker room and took his shirt off, it wasn¡¯t hard to tell why he felt like this. The fat on his body was vanishing rapidly. Even though his muscles hadn¡¯t grown that much, his physique had utterly transformed in just a couple of days. The surface of his body was shredded, and he started worrying that something was off. And so was Mark. ¡°Wow. Well, that takes the cake as the most extreme transformation I¡¯ve ever seen. Are you eating anything?¡± ¡°Dude, I¡¯ve been doing nothing but eating,¡± he shot back. ¡°But I don¡¯t stop feeling hungry.¡± ¡°Then tell me,¡± Mark started with a flat look. ¡°How are your bowel movements?¡± He winced at that question and stuttered, ¡°Th-They have been¡­ explosive.¡± Mark sighed. ¡°Yeah, as I thought.¡± ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°Just because you¡¯re eating enough doesn¡¯t mean your body is digesting enough,¡± Mark clarified. ¡°You¡¯ve changed your lifestyle habits drastically in less than two weeks, and now your body is struggling to keep up. You¡¯re probably only absorbing a tiny portion of the calories you take in, and that¡¯s probably why you¡¯ve been losing so much weight.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t get it, though,¡± he said. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t my talent be dealing with that?¡± ¡°Somewhat¡­?¡± Mark said as if he wasn¡¯t sure himself. ¡°It probably is staving away more serious side effects. But the thing is, right, your body¡¯s ability to absorb the food you consume is like your muscle size. Even supreme-quality healing can¡¯t help you with small muscles. In the same vein, it can¡¯t undo that your body isn¡¯t used to taking in so much food and spending so many calories.¡± ¡°I see¡­¡± That day, Mark told Freddy to rest and take it easy. He didn¡¯t fully comply. First, he went to the woods. Then, he ate a small amount of food and used his body tempering technique to aid his blood in getting all those nutrients to his cells. And finally, he swung his machete around to help recover his body from its current state. Rinse and repeat. The rest of the small breaks were spent gathering, and he went home a little early. After all, tomorrow morning was the first arranged check-up with his doctor. *** ¡°¡­that¡¯s why I suspect that the food I consumed is somehow triggering my talent,¡± Freddy finished his bullshit excuse. He was lying on a bed in the clinic, having just undergone a physical examination, and, naturally, explaining his drastic change hadn¡¯t been easy. He had provided the doctor with an explanation that involved his talent triggering whenever he ate meat or fruit, which was only half a lie since vegetables and fruits, if eaten raw, actually did trigger his talent. The doctor nodded. ¡°I believe there is a whole collection of possible ways your talent could be triggering without you being able to tell, and that isn¡¯t an impossible explanation.¡± Then, the doctor smiled a bit. ¡°Although, that suits me quite fine. It could eliminate the side effects of your treatment, and even if it doesn¡¯t, it could make it less necessary. You¡¯re already well on your way to looking good enough even without it.¡± Freddy lit up upon hearing that, but the doctor¡¯s following statement quenched his excitement almost instantly. ¡°You¡¯re stable enough for us to begin. We¡¯ll do one dose tomorrow and then see where to take it from there four weeks from now.¡± *** Dr. Garfield watched the young man leave the office. The instant Mr. Stern was out of the room, he paled. ¡°Holy shit,¡± he whispered. ¡°What the hell is that talent!?¡± he asked as he scratched his scalp. ¡°This isn¡¯t gonna work. If he keeps doing whatever he¡¯s doing, it won¡¯t be long before his heart defect is entirely gone,¡± he said, biting his nails. ¡°I have to act immediately.¡± *** After the doctor¡¯s appointment, Freddy went to the gym and explained his situation to Mark. The young man simply shrugged. ¡°Relax. Supreme-quality healing works on the endocrine system. If it does any damage to you, you should be able to recover just fine.¡± ¡­should be able to¡­ ¡­could possibly eliminate¡­ It was the way both Mark and the doctor phrased it that made him hesitate. Still, for that day, he swallowed his anxiety and did his best. It was push day again, and he outdid himself compared to the last time. Then, yet again, he had a nature hater¡¯s idea of a picnic in the woods. The next day, they did another push day, and when Mark headed home to see his family, Freddy headed to his meeting with the doctor. *** Mark¡¯s head was filled with thoughts of wanting to see his family immediately. His kind little sister, his patient mother, and his hard-working father. But for some reason, his mind was swimming with dark thoughts. The anxiety had been ever-present these past few days, and if it continued, he¡¯d be joining Freddy in the soft-stool club soon enough. As he stepped onto his home island, he first noticed that their balcony was docked to the building. Although that was nothing strange, not seeing his sister on it made him hurry just a bit for some reason. He stepped into the building. Went up the elevator. He stopped before the entrance to his apartment, unlocked it, and then gently opened the door. *** Freddy waited in the well-illuminated room, pants off and lying on the firm bed. His heart was beating out of his chest, and he couldn¡¯t help but glance at the door every few seconds. Once the knob turned, he winced a bit, and the doctor stepped into the room carrying a small box. ¡°Be there with you in a second, Mr. Stern. Please breathe slowly and relax.¡± The box cracked open, and the man pulled out a gigantic syringe. He kept trying to get his breathing under control, but the substance within did not look like something he wanted in his body. Hell, just looking at it made him feel¡­ scared. A lot more so than he should be. As the doctor walked toward him, every subsequent step grew slower. ¡°Are¡­ Are you all right, Doctor?¡± he asked. The man¡¯s hands shook profusely, and he dropped the syringe. It fell to the ground and shattered as the doctor¡¯s arms limply hung to his sides. For some reason, he started cackling nervously, and his body was bathed in sweat within seconds. ¡°How did she find out¡­?¡± he wondered. Suddenly, the door cracked open, and a woman stepped inside. A tiny black hat decorated her cerulean hair, which flowed down her back in rippling curls, and she donned a full gray suit complemented by her white high heels. The doctor took a few shaky steps back as he did his best to greet her, ¡°L-Lady¡­ Madame¡­ How¡­?¡± *** The moment Mark pushed the doors open, his breath caught. His apartment seemed empty. The lights were off, the shades were down, and there was no welcoming smell of food. Nobody had made lunch today. His steps hurriedly carried him forward, moving from one empty room to another until, finally¡ª His mother appeared in one of the hallways, standing awkwardly. ¡°Mom!¡± he yelled as he rushed to hug her. She jumped in fright and hugged him back, confused about why he acted like this. ¡°Are you okay, Mark?¡± ¡°I¡¯m¡ªHahaha,¡± he laughed, pushing his tears down. ¡°I was just so¡­ I don¡¯t know, I had a bad feeling coming here, and I¡­¡± Suddenly, he realized something. There were faint signs of crying in his mother¡¯s eyes, and they were standing right outside his sister¡¯s room¡­ Where sobs echoed from within. ¡°What is¡­? Haha¡­¡± Mark chuckled anxiously. ¡°Is she just¡­¡± Only when she handed it to him did he notice the still-moist piece of paper in his mother¡¯s hands. It started with the words, ¡°We apologize for the sudden correction¡­¡± and as soon as he read them, his limbs went numb, and all color drained from the already-bleak world around him. *** The doctor took unstable steps back, stumbling into a cabinet as Madame approached him. ¡°Stay¡ªStay away from me!¡± he yelled. Freddy was already getting off the bed, and as Madame stepped right before the man, he grabbed scissors off the shelf to his side and swung them at the tall woman, who simply took the sharp blow with her open palm, allowing the object to stab right through it. ¡°What the fuck!?¡± Freddy exclaimed as he stumbled back, unsure of whether he should or even could run away. Suddenly, the doctor¡¯s hand began to morph into a gross, slimy mass of flesh, a transformation that traveled up his arm and down his torso, turning his entire body into a disgusting, pulsating biomass. ¡°What the fuck!?¡± he screamed again. ¡°Holy shit, you crazy¡ª¡± His knees buckled, and he fell over to the ground. With a swift thrust, Madame bent down and ripped the man¡¯s still-beating heart out of what had once been his body. The pulsing biomass froze and shrank as if all life had been drained out of it. Her hand that had been stabbed through wasn¡¯t even injured. She turned slowly to face Freddy, who was rapidly crawling away. The wall appeared behind him, and he slammed his body into it, realizing he was out of room. But Madame was approaching him. ¡°Wh-Wh-Why!? Why did you do that!?¡± he yelled. Rather than say anything, she stepped forward, crouching and sitting in his lap, pressing her index finger to his lips. ¡°Shhhhh¡­¡± she shushed him as she ripped his shirt off, using it to wrap the sloshing organ into a bloody bag. ¡°You¡¯re lucky that I caught him,¡± she said, her voice even softer than usual. ¡°He was about to kill you,¡± she declared, accenting the word kill with a tightening of the improvised knot on the bag she made out of his now-bloody shirt. ¡°K-Kill me!?¡± ¡°Slow-acting, untraceable poison. Three weeks at most, and poof. Mysterious heart attack, judged to be due to your heart defect.¡± Freddy¡¯s heart was pounding, and his breathing was erratic. He couldn¡¯t bear to look Madame in the eyes, but she cupped his chin with her fingers, and his body, entirely on its own, moved to face her in direct eye contact. ¡°He would have gotten away with it so easily,¡± she continued, ¡°but your talent scared him, so he got sloppy. Shame.¡± Suddenly, she pulled a strange pill from somewhere and forced it into his mouth. ¡°Did you know that oral steroid consumption is dangerous? For you, however, there is no such risk. You little immortal freak,¡± she said with a finger tap on his nose. He didn¡¯t want to swallow the pill, but his throat muscles moved independently, pushing the drug down. ¡°Good boy,¡± she said, handing him the heart still sloshing in the makeshift bag. ¡°A present for your trainer¡­ ¡°To ensure that he, too, doesn¡¯t suddenly become an idiot.¡± Chapter 18 - Above the Mortal Peak Two young men sat in the kitchen, their expressions tired and lost. A human-heart-shaped blob of flesh pulsed eerily on the table between them¡ªthe dead doctor¡¯s heart was still beating. It was already nearly noon, and finally, they were both finished saying what needed to be said, having struggled greatly against the ever-present feeling of dread. Although there was a sense of camaraderie in their mutual plight, the details of each other¡¯s tales had only worsened the storm of emotions brewing in their chests. Freddy shared the tale of having nearly been killed for reasons he didn¡¯t even understand, and Mark explained how the academy had retroactively rejected his sister¡¯s scholarship¡ªhis father having decided to pay for the tuition himself, putting their family in dire financial straits. The man who had contacted Mark was definitely after more than a ¡°couple of questions.¡± And it was likely that whoever was behind that person had also bribed the doctor. The still-living organ on the table between them was a brutal warning to Mark: if he was approached again, he was to make the same choice¡ªor else. Ringing interrupted the silence, and Freddy hesitantly got up to open the door. Matt, the assistant, greeted him and handed him a medium-sized box. His heart nearly burst out of his chest as he opened it, fully expecting a severed head in there or something of the sort, but it was just a collection of pill boxes. He thanked the man, closed the door, and returned to the table to sit with the young man. The list of side effects attached to any of the drugs was so vast that he wondered whether his talent could outpace them before he dropped dead. Mark somewhat hesitantly pointed at the heart on the table. ¡°While that thing is a threat to me, it¡¯s also probably meant as a gift for you.¡± ¡°How nice of her,¡± he spat with a lethargic chuckle. ¡°She must be in love with me.¡± Mark scoffed a bit, unable to muster a laugh at the joke. ¡°I am vaguely familiar with what that is, and while it is gruesome¡­ it will help you with your talent.¡± The insinuation behind that would usually make him want to vomit, but his emotions felt bleached and weak after all that had happened. At Mark¡¯s instruction, he stabbed a kitchen knife into the mass of flesh. He felt a rush of vitality unlike any he had experienced so far, and once he extracted the blade, the small gash sealed almost instantly, bleeding not a single drop. As long as he supplied it with raw meat so it could feed and maintain itself, the heart could recover from anything he did to it. It was, more or less, a health battery. ¡°It isn¡¯t going to last forever,¡± Mark said, ¡°but it will stay alive for at least another three months.¡± He chuckled a bit at that. ¡°Whose heart do you think she¡¯ll give me next?¡± Finally mustering a tired laugh, Mark retorted, ¡°Hopefully not mine.¡± *** Mark was contractually obligated to train Freddy every day, but he had total control over the schedule. The gym¡¯s second floor was one they hadn¡¯t yet visited, as it didn¡¯t have much use for them. Under the excuse that Mark had a few things to show him, they got around to hitting things. The thuds echoing from the man¡¯s punches made Freddy¡¯s heart tense, and his small fist-shaped dent on the tree no longer looked like anything worth noting. Mark took a stance and addressed him, ¡°If you¡¯re basing your martial arts off of Flowing Strike, then you¡¯ll have to work on big, arching moves with a lot of weight behind them.¡± He pulled his fist back slightly over his head and readied a strike. The movement that carried most of his body weight ended with the punch landing on the target and sending a resounding thud through the ground, a sensation that got a few other men in the room to sheepishly distance themselves from the blonde man. ¡°Like this,¡± Mark said as he followed up with a kick, causing a similar thing to happen. Although Mark smiled throughout the demonstration, the joy didn¡¯t reach his eyes. *** Freddy found himself in the forest, punching and kicking as hard as he could. Although it still hurt when he landed an awkward strike, severe injuries from something like this were becoming a thing of the past. The structure of his hand was changing. His feet no longer looked the same either. And the rest of his body was slowly beginning to morph. Every time he took the time to eat, he ended up salting his meal with his tears. Although he wasn¡¯t letting it hinder his training, he couldn¡¯t stop crying. He wasn¡¯t to blame for this. So why? Why did he feel like what happened to Mark was entirely his fault? He wasn¡¯t tone-deaf enough to try and apologize, and he wasn¡¯t naive enough to think he could help¡ªbut he had decided. If he ever got the opportunity to, he would find a way to repay the man. After getting the tears and aggression out of his system, he finally turned around and spoke. ¡°I know you¡¯re there,¡± he said to no one in particular. ¡°Madame is clearly keeping an eye on me, so it¡¯s only natural that someone would be watching me from the shadows. You must be incredibly bored, though. ¡°Why don¡¯t you reveal yourself instead? I¡¯m sure it isn¡¯t all that fun just sitting behind a tree somewhere, twiddling your thumbs. Or maybe you¡¯re dramatically peeling an apple. I don¡¯t mind having an audience, but having someone to talk to while I train would be nice.¡± Silence. Well, it was only natural. He was a 100 percent confident that someone was observing him, and while that didn¡¯t make him feel comfortable, it did make him feel safe, at least. For the entirety of that day, he talked out loud, trying to bait his observer into the light. Whoever was watching him must have been a good fighter, no? In that case, he could possibly extract some advice. And he wasn¡¯t afraid to get annoying. He had no idea what was happening. But it seemed that he had become a pawn in a game played by people far more powerful than him. Did he even stand a chance at protecting himself? The thought made him anxious. But he knew one thing for certain¡ªMadame was trying to protect him. At least for the time being. Come hell or high water, there was no excuse not to make her job at least a little easier. For the whole day, he carried a one-sided conversation. The day after, he did the same thing. And the next day as well. But there was no reply, so either nobody was observing him or, the more likely scenario, they just had no reason to reveal themselves. *** If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. As the days marched onward, Freddy¡¯s body changed drastically, visibly growing each day he looked at himself. It didn¡¯t take long for his trainer to alter their schedule again; this time, he skipped to doing full body every day. It didn¡¯t really matter how many muscle groups they did. He could always perfectly recover by the time he returned the next day. At first, he was hesitant to consume the drugs, but as he read more about supreme-quality healing, he realized something quite reassuring. Supreme-quality healing had something of a crucial flaw: it was too dilute. It was difficult to contain and focus, meaning it always healed everything it could in a person¡¯s body. This was a flaw because an old scar on one¡¯s leg was clearly less of a priority than a missing limb, but the energy would be split between them with little discrimination. Everyone¡¯s body had damage scattered throughout it. This drastically diluted the effect of supreme-quality healing since it simply had too many things to do. This was why he felt his talent was too slow at the start. But now? He finally realized why Madame called him an immortal freak. Because he was immortal. He had been healed of all sequelae in his body, including the type of micro-damage responsible for aging. This was a pretty damn neat bonus¡ªbut it wasn¡¯t anything special. Death-affinity archhumans got the Spark of Undeath tempering technique at their first star; life-affinity archhumans also didn¡¯t age at three stars and above; even for other affinities, high-class healers could heal aging away as if it were no different than any other ordinary ailment. Few archs died from natural causes. But they died nonetheless. Putting the implications of possible eternal life aside, not only did this mean that he healed much faster now since there was less to heal from, but it also meant that there was practically no danger when he consumed steroids. None whatsoever. On top of having no hidden defects that could put him at risk of sudden death, the balance of hormones itself was effortless to re-establish. Perhaps to a fault, even. He gulped down a single pill from every drug he had the moment he returned from all the training since overnight, when he was sleeping, was the only time they could do their job. The instant he stabbed the health bank, his healing would eradicate their presence in his body near-instantly. For a while, he chose to temporarily pause his martial arts training for an experiment. It took him roughly three hours to finish a full-body workout. With a half-hour jog to his apartment and back, where he stabbed the heart until he fully recovered and ate a large meal, he could be back and simply continue his training. Granted, Mark was no longer there, but he was already proficient enough at all the exercises that he at least wasn¡¯t at risk of hurting himself when he was alone. And even if he did hurt himself, well¡­ who cared? He pushed himself to his absolute maximum for a while and did four daily workouts. Several people approached him to ask whether he had a talent that allowed him to do this or if he was just trying to kill himself, but he reassured them that it was fine. Steve, the employee, was the most concerned, and he actually tried banning him from doing this, fearing for his life. Given that he almost instantly retracted the ban and appeared vaguely anxious the day after, it was safe to presume that either Madame or one of her assistants gave him a talking-to. Eventually, he dropped the experiment. The results were impressive, but they weren¡¯t four times more impressive than just a single workout a day. There seemed to be a biological limitation to it that couldn¡¯t be cheated through his talent, at least not any longer. After around a month, his body weight reached 78 kg, an increase of almost twenty from his previous 59. He wasn¡¯t massive by any means, but he was lean, so most of that mass was in muscle. He could bench 132.5 kg, squat 236,5 kg, and deadlift 262 kg. At first, almost every time he exercised, he could increase the weight by several kilograms and still power through it, with the difference being particularly drastic after a night of rest. As time went on, the difference he could reasonably lift kept shrinking further until all he could do was add two tiny 0.25 kg plates. If even that. It didn¡¯t take him long to acquire near-elite mortal human strength and physique, but the growth had plateaued too hard. He wondered whether he had broken any records with how quickly he grew, but knowing how ridiculous some talents were, he wouldn¡¯t bet on it. He stood before the mirror in the locker room, observing the changes to his body. It was ridiculously shredded, with body fat way below what should be possible by normal standards. It was to the point where he wondered if anything less would actually count as damage and be healed by his talent. His skin was tan and healthy, his hair had a rich, hydrated sheen to it, and his eyes were clear as day. He was extremely pleased with how he had grown, but now it was finally time. After around a month, he reached close enough to what could be called peak mortal human performance. Now, he was going to transcend it. *** Another week passed, and this time, he was almost entirely focused on his martial arts. Fueled by Flowing Strike, a wide swing landed on the tree, shaking it a bit and causing the slightest of cracks to appear. Then a kick, and finally a straight. Nearly all the bark had been stripped off the lowest two meters of the tree he picked as his victim, and it appeared visibly battered, with even some pieces breaking off. It wasn¡¯t enough to make the plant fall over¡ªat least not yet¡ªbut it was enough to show just how much work he¡¯d put in. He wiped some sweat off his brow, then walked over to the biomass that had once resembled a heart. It had healed and grown so much that it no longer appeared like anything but a freaky, squirming pile of flesh. It was no longer beating, either. A couple of minutes of stabbing later, he was in more or less perfect physical condition. He walked over to the small pond in the woods and sat next to it, but rather than start meditating, he raised his hand over the water. Essence flowed from his palm with a blue light, pouring into the water, and he flexed. The water raised just slightly before dropping, leaving a disturbed surface behind. Several attempts later, Freddy finally extracted a tiny orb from the water. His excitement instantly collapsed the round structure, but that wasn¡¯t enough to hinder his reaction. ¡°I did it!¡± he exclaimed, thrilled at his success. While his talent was the perfect cheat for boosting his physical growth, he had no such advantage with his essence control. Mark said he was somewhat talented for essence control but wasn¡¯t a prodigy. And now, for the first time, he managed to do something other than just disturb the water. He took a moment to enter his ethercosm and observe the result of his efforts. Four distinct blue specks flickered around his star, which had grown considerably in the last month. The ether shell for Flowing Strike was by far the brightest. But there were several other, much fainter specks flickering in the darkness. He focused on one of them, and it appeared before him. It looked like a small mass of morphing symbols. It was the absolute start of the formation of an ether shell. If Freddy supplied it with a few water wisps, it would crystallize, and he would acquire another spell. It would only be capable of briefly materializing an unstable, floating drop of water. As his control grew finer and more stable, he could form the water more liberally, and every specific action he made would contribute to the formation of another ether shell. So there was only one thing left to do. He focused on the concept of water, an idea he had grown much more intimate with through all his meditation, and attracted water wisps into his soul. This time, instead of allowing them to enter his star, he moved them to the fledgling shell before him. They seeped into it without any problem, and the ether shell formed with what looked like a miniature supernova of water droplets. Three blue symbols that represented concepts related to water wrapped around an invisible ball, creating a cage of runes. It was far less complex than any of the other shells he had. Once done, he left his ethercosm, lifted his hand, and materialized a tiny speck of water, which promptly fell to the ground and disappeared. This was a fundamental spell for water archs. The only reason he wasn¡¯t given a scroll for it was that he had to make it himself. It needed to be as compatible with the individual as possible. It was the Create Water spell. It formed water out of essence without any fancy effects. Naturally, the fake water would disappear, but while there, it was the perfect target for working on one¡¯s essence control and forming other ether shells. The reason why he had to make this ability himself was simple¡ªas he had created it through his essence manipulation, the water would be most optimal for manipulating with his essence. He compared the effects of Create Water to Squirt, and the difference was readily apparent. Create Water was utterly without form, while Squirt directed the water in a thin stream. But while Squirt was impossible to control, Create Water was entirely at his mercy. Or, rather, his competence, but he didn¡¯t have much of that. He postponed a critical shopping trip to focus all his essence on achieving this. Now that he was finally done, excitement flowed through his veins. For a while already, his Water Body tempering technique had been utterly useless. Why? Because the water in his body was already in perfect balance. In fact, the tempering technique only ruined it now. It was more than safe to say that he almost definitely wouldn¡¯t need this ability in the future, so there was only one thing to do. He got up, walked home, and donned less filthy clothing. Then he headed to the library. ¡°Hello, sir,¡± the clerk greeted him. ¡°Do you require assistance?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± he confirmed. ¡°I¡¯d like to buy the most dangerous water-affinity tempering technique you have.¡± Chapter 19 - Expired Freddy was back in the woods, holding two ether scrolls. Both of them were for tempering techniques. The first was named Abyssal Depths. And the second was named Hundred Wet Hells. This time, he didn¡¯t bother hiding his purchase. While it was true that producing an ability by oneself was most optimal, this wasn¡¯t the case for tempering techniques. Not only were the more complex ones too difficult and time-consuming to create, but few tempering techniques aimed to be appropriate for the user¡¯s body. No, it was more accurate to say that tempering techniques aimed to hurt the user to temper them, just like when a hammer came down on hot steel to forge it. While he was thrilled to have found Hundred Wet Hells, even if it cost him most of his savings, the Abyssal Depths tempering technique was a spur-of-the-moment decision. He had initially aimed to find Flowing River, or rather, the technique considered the most optimal to use in conjunction with Flowing Strike. What changed his mind was¡­ well¡­ he lived by the words ¡°most simple is likely best.¡± But in this case, the path wasn¡¯t necessarily the best. It was just the most well-known. Flowing River resulted in a body with designated water streams that supported Flowing Strike. On the other hand, Abyssal Depths simply compressed water into the user¡¯s body. The difference was simple: while Flowing River considerably lessened the backlash of using Flowing Strike, Abyssal Depths amplified it¡ªbut it also boosted the power. Drastically. Greater water density naturally resulted in far more momentum. Usually, this would mean that he was on the fast track to, yet again, burst his limbs like fragile ketchup packets. This was where Hundred Wet Hells came in and why he gambled with the Abyssal Depths and Flowing Strike combo. There was another reason, too¡ªAbyssal Depths was one of the rare few tempering techniques that could be reversed. So it wasn¡¯t like he couldn¡¯t jump ship and switch to Flowing River. It would just be a moderate waste of time and money. According to Mark, there was a rivalry between earth-affinity and water-affinity archs. Objectively speaking, when it came to external toughness, earth was king. But when it came to internal toughness, water was the undefeatable champion. Hundred Wet Hells and tempering techniques like it were the primary reasons why this was the case. But even among such techniques, Hundred Wet Hells was the most extreme. Not only had it been costly, but he had to sign a waiver disclosing that he understood the risks of using it before being allowed to buy it. As far as internal toughness was concerned, it would be the only tempering technique he needed. If he could handle using it, that was. Unceremoniously, he cracked open the ether scroll. The runes imbued within graced his eyes, and he felt their power pulse into his spirit, gradually constructing the basis of the ether shell. Not even seconds later, the once-radiant runes faded into vague burn marks on the paper, and, with a large splash, the shell in his soul had formed. He repeated the same thing with the other scroll and was finally ready. Freddy fetched the large pile of flesh that had grown considerably and put it into his lap, holding the knife close to the surface of the biomass. With a deep breath, he initiated Hundred Wet Hells¡­ And instantly lost consciousness. *** In the biggest building in the 24th district, there was a large room. The walls, floor, and ceiling were lined with rectangular, dark metallic plates, and right in the center sat a heavily reinforced metal door, seemingly not connected to anything. Several people sat at the benches scattered around the room¡¯s walls, all dressed to delve into the passage behind the artificial barrier. With three shrill rings, the door cracked open, and a large, armored man with a giant sword strapped to his back walked out, dragging a massive bag behind him. His synthetic armor was camouflaged with shades of green and yellow, and his bag shared the same colors. Everyone who spotted him couldn¡¯t help but shoot him a glance, but it wasn¡¯t long until he walked through the room of onlookers, summarily ignoring all of them. Stepping into a room adjacent to the one holding the passage, he walked over to a clerk and dropped the massive bag on the table. The moment he released his grip on his loot, he removed his helmet, revealing the beautiful wheat-blonde hair and shimmering verdant eyes hidden beneath, shining with the bright warmth of a fall pasture. Mark smiled politely at the woman, nodding at the bag of monster parts he had collected. The clerk, a middle-aged woman with short, black hair, gave him a slip, slapped a tag on the bag, and picked it up as if it weighed nothing, dragging it to a room in the back. He walked to a changing room, put on his regular clothing, and went to the training facility he had access to. In the back rooms of the gym, there was an elevator that took him deep underground. From highly specialized weight-lifting equipment to rooms full of golems and animatronics he could spar with, it was a facility that would pass even the 25th district quality checks. He was alone, so he started his training session without any ceremony. Dressing into his equipment and grabbing the massive practice sword, he entered the sparring room and walked up to the tablet beside the entrance, selecting a single opponent¡ªan animatronic swordsman. Once he got ready, the door on the other side of the room slid open, and his sparring partner walked out. It was a primarily gray mannequin roughly shaped into an average-sized male adult. This was merely the warm-up, and it didn¡¯t take him long to thoroughly disarm the puppet and give it a good slash across the chest. Wherever his weapon made contact, the color of the animatronic¡¯s surface changed, with yellow indicating light, orange heavy, red critical, and black marking lethal damage. His talent, Rebalanced Musculature, allowed him to wield large, two-handed weapons with almost comical ease. Most of his smaller muscles were greatly strengthened, and his entire body had a much wider effective range of movement. He didn¡¯t have to worry about damaging the equipment here, as it was made to tolerate a whole load more pain than what he could dish out. So he promptly selected two enemies on the tablet. It didn¡¯t take long to finish the fight. That felt like enough warm-up to skip straight to five opponents, a level he knew he was comfortable with. Three rushed at him in a wedge formation, while a fourth flanked him and a fifth stalked from behind the frontline. Mark ran at the flanker, capitalizing on its isolation to finish it before the others could reach him. He swung an overhead strike that the animatronic blocked with its sword, causing its shoulders and hands to light up yellow. A kick left an orange spot on its torso, and given that it couldn¡¯t retaliate in that state, it wasn¡¯t hard to sneak a thrust at its neck, leaving a black spot that finished the fight. Suddenly, he heard a beep. He turned around and spotted one of the mannequins frozen in place. Its blade nearly touched his back, right around where it would have thrust through his heart in a real fight. The others had also been deactivated, signaling his failure. His eyes shot open. He couldn¡¯t believe it. Kicking the frozen mannequin out of frustration, he moved to another room that held punching bags. After fifteen minutes of throwing furious strikes at the object before him and yelling like a maniac, he finally ran out of essence. He dropped to the floor nearby, sitting with one arm around his knees and clutching his hair with a shaky hand. *** Freddy¡¯s eyes popped open not long after he was knocked out. His entire body hurt like hell, and he instantly stabbed at the fleshy blob before him. ¡°Holy fuck, what the fuck was that!?¡± He already knew that this tempering technique would be¡­ troublesome, but he hadn¡¯t expected to get knocked out instantly. Hundred Wet Hells was a tempering technique that basically turned all the water in one¡¯s body against them. Pretty much any way it could harm one from within was part of the Hundred Wet Hells tempering process. This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. He likely got unlucky, and his first attempt touched something in his brain that it probably shouldn¡¯t have. Thanks to Ethereal Mercy, he was at no risk of dying from this much, but it was still scary to see that it could knock him out before he realized what happened. It took a surprising number of stabs at the fleshy blob to eliminate all the pain in his body, leaving him hesitant to try that again. Pain and discomfort had become more commonplace recently, but that didn¡¯t mean he could tolerate something like this. Still, he had walked into this one fully expecting to just toughen up and push through it, and now his pride was absolutely not going to relent, even if he had to suffer for his arrogance. With a lot of hesitation, he triggered the ability again. Perhaps getting knocked out was lucky, he thought, as the searing pain rapidly spread through his body, forcing him to cancel the ability almost immediately. He had thought that prolonged meditative gathering was a test of willpower. Compared to this? It barely qualified. It was akin to being boiled alive, but from within, and the urges to puke and scratch every inch of his skin warred for priority. He couldn¡¯t breathe, his vision morphed into blurry blobs, and his hearing echoed with an intolerably loud sound of sloshing tides. Rapidly stabbing the flesh blob until the pain disappeared, he got a hold of himself and breathed again. He finally understood why he had to sign a waiver and provide confirmation that he was legally an adult. It wasn¡¯t hard to imagine hordes of overzealous teenagers trying themselves against this torture method and getting themselves hurt. Ironic that he was quick to judge the arrogant pricks who burned themselves by getting this technique when it was hard to deny that he might have very well been one of them. The embarrassment of having to face the fact that he had thrown a fuck ton of money away was enough to get him to at least try himself one more time. This time, before he started using the technique, he was already stabbing the mass of flesh. The instant he triggered it again, he kept his focus dead-locked on the inpour of life force. To his surprise, this actually created an unexpected result. While, yes, his veins did feel like his blood was replaced by angry wasps and his head was indeed trying to explode, the feeling his talent gave off was just enough of a distraction to fight off the desire to cancel the ability. Not enough to not puke all over himself, though. Using his talent felt good. Really good. It was like a drug, and the sensation only got more intense when contrasted with the agony he was living through. It wasn¡¯t uncommon for people to use¡­ pharmaceutical aid, so to speak, to ease the pain of tempering techniques, but that was a stupid idea and an excellent way to permanently disfigure oneself or straight-up die. But, given his drug of choice, he had no such concerns. His perception of time was screwed sideways, and, to his surprise, his essence ran out before his desire to stop could prevail. While his talent had kept him going, it was most certainly not keeping up with all the damage the technique had been causing, and it took him a good while of stabbing and feeding the mass of flesh to return to full health. It was only then that he could finally grin in excitement. Not that long ago, he had wondered what kind of freak could torment themselves for power. Now, he meditated to recover just a bit of his essence and approached a tree. Flowing Strike flew out, smashing into the bark, shaking the tree, and leaving a small dent. The impact was still there. The backlash didn¡¯t go away. But his grin widened nonetheless. The difference was already noticeable. *** The morning after, he was in the gym, continuing his routine. As expected, the tempering hadn¡¯t boosted his strength. It wasn¡¯t designed to do that. Not directly, at least. But with time, having a more durable body would allow him to exert more strength without pain or discomfort. For a while already, he had noticed that his trainer seemed¡­ off. At first, it made sense, given the situation with his family, and he wasn¡¯t insensitive enough to needlessly pry. But at that moment, as he observed the young man¡­ there was something off about him. Occasionally, his gaze would drift away, and not how it did when someone was distracted by thinking about something. Indeed, he could recognize that look anywhere. He had seen it in a mirror numerous times¡ªthose were the eyes of someone overworked and dead-tired. He finished a set of deadlifts and walked over to Mark, snapping his fingers before the blonde man¡¯s face. ¡°Hello? Wakey, wakey, sweetheart!¡± ¡°Huh?¡± Mark replied dumbfoundedly, his eyes slowly refocusing. ¡°Oh, sorry¡­ I was just dozing off a bit.¡± ¡°Hmmm¡­¡± He gave the young man a good look and asked, ¡°Are you delving into the passage in the main building?¡± He had many reasons to suspect that Mark was doing so, but he had been unwilling to ask about it. The man nodded, wiping his right eye with the back of his hand. ¡°Yeah,¡± he answered unapologetically, apparently not intending to hide the fact. ¡°Not gonna lie, it¡¯s been messing with my schedule a lot.¡± ¡°Why?¡± he asked. Mark chuckled. ¡°Because it¡¯s damn exhausting, that¡¯s why,¡± he spat, his fatigue at least partially being pushed away by frustration. ¡°I delve solo, so I have to do everything myself. Scouting, carrying, fighting, dissecting, everything!¡± he shouted, attracting a few gazes. He took that as a cue to calm down a bit. ¡°It¡¯s just too much. And I can¡¯t be sloppy, either, since there is always a risk that a deviant will catch me off-guard.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not what I meant,¡± he said with a shake of his head. ¡°I asked why you¡¯re delving into the passage!¡± he said, coming off as a bit more aggressive than intended. Mark scoffed at that. Freddy shook his head. ¡°Dude, you can¡¯t do this to yourself.¡± ¡°Fred,¡± Mark started, gesturing with his arm. ¡°I¡¯m sorry to say this, and please don¡¯t get offended, but this is my personal business. I appreciate your concern, but maybe keep it to yourself in the future, all right?¡± ¡°Aight, aight, dude, chill,¡± he placated, lifting his hands in mock defense. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean anything bad by it.¡± They continued their training, but not even half an hour passed until Freddy sighed and opened his mouth again. ¡°Have you thought about what you¡¯re going to do next?¡± Mark seemed surprised by the question. ¡°Not¡­ really¡­ why do you ask?¡± ¡°Uhm¡­?¡± Freddy was about to ask but was so surprised that he couldn¡¯t get his words out. Did Mark seriously not realize it yet? Without saying anything, he merely raised an arm and flexed his impressive biceps. ¡°See these guns, boy?¡± Then he jokingly kissed it and winked at Mark. ¡°Your guidance has taken me a long way, but I don¡¯t think it will be needed much longer.¡± ¡°What¡­ What are you saying?¡± ¡°I mean, realistically¡­¡± Freddy started but paused once he saw the expression on Mark¡¯s face. The young man appeared stricken. He was shaking, and his eyes were staring at him as if he were an executioner. ¡°Whoa!¡± Freddy said as he took a step forward. ¡°Are you okay, dude?¡± ¡°S-Stay away from me!¡± Mark yelled as he took a few unstable steps back and then, without warning, started running away. ¡°Wait!¡± Freddy yelled as he ran after him. ¡°Damn, he¡¯s fast!¡± Mark appeared to be running back to their building, and despite being quite a bit slower than him, Freddy was well aware of where the blonde man was going. Once he reached Mark¡¯s apartment, the first thing he noticed was that the doors weren¡¯t just open¡ª The young man had broken through them. ¡°What the fuck¡­!?¡± he whispered under his breath and walked in apprehensively, worried about the constant sounds of banging coming from within. He walked in on his trainer flipping a table and then kicking it into two pieces. Then, with a few heavy breaths, he turned, glaring icy daggers at him. ¡°This is your fault.¡± ¡°What the fuck are you talking about, you maniac!?¡± he yelled. ¡°Shut up!¡± Mark screamed hysterically. ¡°This is your fucking fault!¡± He walked over to him, grabbed him by the collar, and threw him at a nearby wall, a smash that would have seriously injured him had he not gotten so much tougher. ¡°What are you¡ª¡± he tried to say. ¡°I said shut up!¡± Mark yelled. ¡°You with your freak talent, your secrets¡­ You¡¯re to blame for this!¡± ¡°Blame for what!?¡± he shot back. ¡°My family¡­¡± Mark said, hyperventilating and breaking into tears as he let go of him and took shaky steps back. ¡°My contract lasts for three months!¡± he yelled. ¡°You¡¯re right; why would they renew it!? They¡¯re gonna fucking fire me, and then what!?¡± he shouted, clutching his heart and dropping to the ground. ¡°I¡¯m dead. Madame is gonna kill me.¡± ¡°Okay, first, calm the hell down!¡± Mark strangled his own throat with one hand and screamed through that, his voice coming through as a rough whisper, ¡°They haven¡¯t contacted me yet! But once I lose this job, they¡¯ll come.¡± Then he grabbed his head, pulling it down into his knees. ¡°They¡¯ll ask me questions¡­ They¡¯ll threaten my family. If I don¡¯t answer, my family is doomed. If I do¡­ Madame will kill me. She¡¯ll kill me, and you¡¯ll get my heart. I¡¯m going to die, Freddy.¡± He couldn¡¯t believe it. There were signs that something had been wrong with the man lately, but this¡­ This was far worse than he dared to hope. Yet, what came out of his mouth next weren¡¯t words of comfort¡ª ¡°None of this is my fault,¡± he argued, barely holding his tears back. ¡°Does it matter!?¡± Mark asked through choked sobs. ¡°Do you really think I care?¡± With his fists clenched, he felt himself slowly panicking, losing control of his emotions. But far before it could get to that, he swallowed hard and opened his mouth to speak. ¡°I know you¡¯re listening in on this.¡± Mark looked up, eyes wide open and mouth hanging loose. He continued, ¡°I think this much is enough. I¡¯d like to request a formal audience with Madame or a representative.¡± Mark¡¯s breathing hastened, but he controlled himself, merely sitting there and waiting. He was glad that the young man seemed to trust him at least somewhat, but that didn¡¯t stop him from walking over and giving him a good kick in the stomach. ¡°Oof, wha-what the¡ª¡± ¡°Don¡¯t you ¡®wha-what the¡¯ me, you bastard!¡± Freddy snarled. ¡°That¡¯s for throwing me at the wall!¡± Mark looked down, smiling beside himself. ¡°I guess I-I deserve at l-least tha-that much,¡± he eked out, unable to speak correctly. Without any warning, Freddy bent down and hugged the mountain of muscle. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, bro. I¡¯ll do what I can,¡± he promised. Mark grabbed the short sleeve of his gym shirt and nodded, breathing a little easier. They both waited in the wreck of what used to be Mark¡¯s kitchen, and not even two minutes later, Matt Canstone walked into the room. He took a single look at them and nodded. ¡°Very well. Madame will see you in person.¡± Chapter 20 - Naivety Freddy couldn¡¯t help but ogle the interior decor of the opulent building. Matt strode before them, leading down the colorful, slick hallways. Everything was plasticized; pink, beige, and turquoise were the dominant colors, and the flowers growing in the space swayed on their own, even though the air was perfectly still. They had been escorted into Madame¡¯s headquarters¡ªa large, gaudy building dominated by a headache-inducing color palette. And now, the assistant was taking them to Madame¡¯s office. Mark looked stricken, glancing anxiously at every corner, and Freddy kept trying to calm the young man with affirming nods and kind smiles. The last thing he wanted was to be judgmental, but if Mark didn¡¯t get his shit together, it would only worsen his situation. Matt brought them into an ample, open antechamber with a massive golden door on the other side, the murmurs of a crowd echoing through it. The door¡¯s frame looked like fluffy, pink clouds, and there was a neon light shaped into a cartoonified version of Madame above it. Numerous people sat along the benches encircling the room. Most were women dressed in, at least in his opinion, silly outfits that looked like something that belonged in a sci-fi-themed circus. God, I hate rich people, he thought. It wasn¡¯t long until they were among the strange crowd, sitting on one of the benches lining the walls. ¡°Excuse me,¡± called a woman sitting to their right. She wore a skin-tight, black leather suit with extremely pale makeup, and her red hair tied into a¡­ side tail? Like a ponytail, but starting from above her right ear. It was also weirdly stiff and protruded far out. That looked frighteningly inconvenient to live with, and given that her head turn made her hair slap the other woman sitting next to her, it probably very much so was. ¡°I was just wondering, are you two orphans?¡± He blinked at that, surprised at the question. ¡°Ohohoho, I must be correct!¡± the woman declared without even a hint of shame. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, don¡¯t worry, trust me, you two are lucky. Parents can be such a drag.¡± He had no idea what made this person presume they were orphaned, and it kind of miffed him that she was even half-correct. But, rather than say anything, he merely politely nodded at her with the shakiest smile-frown he had ever given anyone and turned around. The unusual actions of the woman seemed to have confused Mark out of his frightened state, at least partly. Both the men jolted a bit as the neon light above the large door suddenly lit up, and a surprisingly loud voice rang out as Madame spoke through the speakers, ¡°Greetings, my darlings!¡± ¡°Hi, Madame!¡± a chorus of female and a few male voices echoed throughout the room. Suddenly, the door opened with a rainbow light show, with giant arrows lighting up on the ground below, guiding whoever was inside, out of the building. Two suited men left through the door, shooting disgusted glances at the people around the room. They promptly walked out, and the voice continued, ¡°I would like the two boys that just arrived to step inside, darlings, and our meeting will probably take a while. You know what that means!?¡± As if on cue, all the women got up and yelled, ¡°Coffee, tea, and cake, bestie!¡± Jesus Christ, this is a damn cult! he thought, wishing he could die from the cringe he was experiencing and contemplating whether coming here was a mistake. The large crowd gathered in the room slowly left, and Matt, who had momentarily disappeared to who knew where reappeared again and escorted them toward the door. The confusion was gradually replaced by fear once more as the three men strode into the office. It was a large, primarily pink chamber. One of the walls was a massive window looking over the twenty-fifth and 24th districts. There were numerous couches, bean bags, and chairs scattered around, and the desk in the middle stretched considerably and formed heart shapes on both ends. On the other side of the desk was a fluffy chair with its back turned to them, and only as they stepped right before the desk did the chair rotate, revealing Madame seated on it, smiling cheekily at them. Her cerulean hair was, this time, combed back into a much more ordinary hairstyle, and she was wearing a beige suit. With an appearance like this, it wouldn¡¯t be hard to mistake her for a slightly eccentric businesswoman. ¡°Boys,¡± she called in a sultry tone, maintaining the smile on her expression. ¡°I hear you want to talk to me about something.¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Freddy declared, taking a step back and opening his mouth to¡ª ¡°Hold up, sweetheart,¡± Madame said with a lift of her hand. ¡°First, why don¡¯t you take a seat?¡± He looked around. While there were plenty of things to sit on, they were all scattered around the room. Not to mention that there was a drastic lack of ¡°ordinary¡± seats to be seen, which made picking something much more difficult. ¡°I would prefer to stay standing, Madame,¡± he said politely. Mark couldn¡¯t stop a fearful gaze from flicking between Madame and the ground. She was most certainly aware of his state but tactfully ignored it. ¡°I¡­¡± he started, but paused to take a deep breath. ¡°I want to offer you a trade.¡± ¡°A trade?¡± Madame said with a slight surprise. He steeled himself, forcing himself to execute the plan he had prepared. ¡°You have the life-affinity, correct?¡± ¡°Life is one of my affinities, yes,¡± she confirmed, her smile growing more amused. ¡°Well,¡± he continued, ¡°I believe my talent would be handy to you.¡± ¡°In what way?¡± she asked skeptically, squinting her eyes. ¡°First, I would like his,¡± he said with a gesture at Mark, ¡°family to be guaranteed safety. And in turn, you can¡­ You can¡­¡± he tried, doing his best to keep himself from shaking. ¡°You can do whatever you wish to me.¡± This was his plan. Regardless of how extreme an injury he suffered, his talent could heal it. He was the perfect target if she needed or wanted someone to experiment on. He wasn¡¯t just making this offer to help Mark¡¯s situation. No matter how he thought about it, the assassination attempt and what happened to Mark were just a bit too extreme. His story came down to him beaning a stray monster; would anyone truly go that far just to sabotage Madame¡¯s interview? There was more to it than that. No matter what it took, he would get closer to Madame and unravel¡ª His thoughts were interrupted as Madame finally reacted to his suggestion. The way she did, though, wasn¡¯t what he expected to see. She sighed, an exasperated look descending upon her expression, followed by a hint of¡­ shame? Guilt? Her hand reached for her forehead and sat there as if she were experiencing a headache. ¡°How manly of you, darling¡±¡ªshe breathed out, unimpressed¡ª¡°but I really don¡¯t want what you¡¯re offering.¡± And then, with another sigh, she got up. ¡°I believe I owe you two an apology.¡± Mark appeared flabbergasted, but Freddy didn¡¯t react to her actions. ¡°Believe it or not,¡± she said, ¡°I¡¯m not a sadist that goes around killing people for sport, and I certainly don¡¯t enjoy torture or human experimentation,¡± she explained. ¡°What happened then caught me in a bad mood, and I might have overreacted slightly. I hope you,¡± she said with a slight nod at Freddy, ¡°understand that I did that for your protection.¡± ¡°As for you,¡± she said as she turned to Mark, causing the young man to flinch. ¡°I¡¯m really sorry for the untimely threat. I didn¡¯t know that you already refused the offer, and I certainly wasn¡¯t aware of the fallout. What you did deserved a reward and encouragement, not¡­ that. Sorry for what happened to your sister. I hope you accept my sincerest apology.¡± Mark appeared bewildered at Madame¡¯s apology, but Freddy simply nodded and thanked her. ¡°Thank you, Madame. I also apologize for my presumptuousness.¡± That earned him yet another glance, this time from all three of the people present in the room. Madame raised her eyebrow, but she didn¡¯t comment on his behavior. ¡°Regarding the transpired events, I believe it would be best to inform the two of you of what¡¯s happening. How about we have a seat and get a bit more comfortable?¡± This time, Madame took the lead before they could refuse, moving to a half-moon-shaped couch with a small coffee table in the middle. ¡°Do you boys want anything to drink?¡± she asked. ¡°No, thank you,¡± Freddy refused instantly. ¡°I¡ªUhm¡­ I would like tea if you have any,¡± Mark said, wincing, likely at the last part of what he said. ¡°Whichever Madame recommends.¡± Madame clapped her hands and got more comfortable, taking the coat off her suit and throwing it loosely on the couch beside her. ¡°I will cut right to the chase,¡± she said. ¡°Freddy, darling¡­ who did you offend and how?¡± He was genuinely surprised at that question. But it didn¡¯t take him long to realize why she was asking him that. ¡°Do you mean to suggest someone is specifically after¡­ me?¡± ¡°Bingo,¡± she confirmed. ¡°Or, at least, that¡¯s the only conclusion I can make.¡± It didn¡¯t take him long to remember the unusual man who paid him a visit a while back, but unless explicitly asked to mention him, he would refrain from talking about that. ¡°If I did, it was without my knowledge,¡± he answered truthfully. Madame sighed and pinched her brow. ¡°It has been giving me the biggest headache. No matter how I think about it, it doesn¡¯t make sense.¡± ¡°What exactly?¡± he asked. ¡°At first,¡± she said with a squint of her eyes, ¡°I assumed that the threat and assassination attempt were from two completely different individuals. It would make sense. The party that went after Mark wouldn¡¯t have called for such a costly favor if they knew that you would be dead soon. But it¡¯s already been nearly a month and a half¡­ so why haven¡¯t they appeared again?¡± He thought about it for a second, landing on one possible answer, but he closed his mouth before giving it. The first thing that came to mind was that they didn¡¯t expect Madame to find out, but that was preposterous. They must have acted knowing that Madame would know and likely had a way around it. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. His thoughts were interrupted as he noticed Madame grinning at him. He broke out of his contemplation, looking at her apprehensively. ¡°Is¡­ Did I do something strange?¡± he asked. ¡°No¡­ No¡­¡± she denied, leaning back on the couch. ¡°I just remembered something funny.¡± ¡°Sorry about that,¡± she said. ¡°Back to the topic. I believe the party that contacted Mark is the same one that bribed the doctor. It isn¡¯t that they weren¡¯t aware that you would likely be dead; it was that they were expecting it.¡± He frowned at that. He hadn¡¯t made that connection quite yet, but if that was the case¡ª ¡°Which is what makes me so confused,¡± she admitted, twirling a handful of her hair while blowing air. At that moment, a seemingly seamless patch of the wall slid open, revealing an entrance that a strangely dressed waitress walked out of. She wore frilly, skimpy clothing, comprising barely more than a tight crop top and a short skirt. Freddy made no comment or showed any outward indication that he noticed the unusual get-up, deciding it was none of his business. As the woman placed coffee before him, he was taken out of his thoughts. It smelled enchanting. He immediately grabbed it and brought it up as if he were about to take a sip, but then paused, putting it back down while frowning. ¡°Madame¡­¡± ¡°What is it, darling?¡± He didn¡¯t actually intend to drink anything she served him, because he simply didn¡¯t trust her one bit. He barely held himself back from wincing as Mark slurped loudly. ¡°This tea is incredible!¡± the man complimented. Madame smiled and nodded at the young man, then turned back to Freddy. ¡°You don¡¯t need to feel obligated to drink. I just don¡¯t like seeing my guests empty-handed.¡± ¡°Thank you, either way,¡± he said. Madame took a large sip of her cocktail and continued, ¡°So¡­ I¡¯m very confident that this was all orchestrated by a single individual or organization, but I have no idea who or why. Which is why I¡¯ve asked you whether you¡¯ve offended anyone. Can you tell me if you have met anyone powerful or participated in some sort of political event?¡± He tapped his lips contemplatively and frowned. Then, he proceeded to retell his business at the ATA, sharing precisely what happened without any omissions or alterations, even intentionally accenting his own naivete and foolishness. After a bit of hesitation, he decided to share his meeting with that strange, casually dressed man who visited him at his apartment. While he wanted to stick as close to the truth as possible, there was no way he would mention Bloodshed. He did say that the man was strangely interested in his filthy clothing; however, the moment he said that, she seemed to light up with realization. Shiiiiiit, he cursed internally. Did that just give away a critical hint? ¡°Oh my God,¡± the woman said while putting her cocktail down. ¡°That couldn¡¯t¡­ But wait. No!¡± she said with a massive grin. ¡°How didn¡¯t I think of that?¡± ¡°What¡­ What exactly?¡± he asked cautiously. ¡°All right, darling,¡± she said, ¡°I need you to retell me what happened when you encountered the monster. Please do not lie or change any details.¡± He frowned at how she said that but agreed to the request, retelling the whole thing. She chuckled incredulously when he finished his story. ¡°Incredible. That creature must have been a two-star monster, then.¡± Mark had been listening to the story with rapped attention, and when she said that, he nearly choked. ¡°What!?¡± ¡°What?¡± Freddy also asked, genuinely confused. ¡°Let me explain it like this,¡± she started. ¡°How has your growth been recently?¡± He thought about it and answered honestly. ¡°It has been slowing down a bit.¡± ¡°I see¡­ After almost two months of intensive gathering, you are only beginning to slow down.¡± ¡°Is there something off about that?¡± he asked with a frown. Madame scoffed. ¡°Yes. Very. Why do you think people fight monsters to begin with? I promise you that it isn¡¯t because of boredom¡ªat least not for most. It is because your growth stagnates unless you challenge yourself.¡± He already knew this, but he had no idea when it was supposed to kick in. He chalked it up to his martial arts training and overall growth, but there seemed to be more to it. Madame continued, ¡°True, you can simply overcome yourself through training and practice, but putting your life on the line to come out on top in dangerous situations is much more rewarding. While yes, killing a monster does provide a portion of its ether, it also does more than that. It generates pure ether directly inside your soul and the abilities you use, especially if the opponent is significantly more powerful than you.¡± ¡°So¡­¡± Freddy started. ¡°Is someone trying to kill me because I¡¯m¡­?¡± ¡°No,¡± Madame denied before he could even finish the sentence. ¡°While it¡¯s true that you have a head start in your growth, it is a temporary boost. What¡¯s more important is what that pure ether generation did to the environment around you. ¡°What you¡¯ve done in that situation was impossibly unlikely. Consequently, the generated pure ether likely caused some form of anomaly. Or several. The three-affinity prime vestige you manifested is just one of them. And the clothes you wore, which had likely become a powerful cursed object, is another.¡± And Bloodshed is likely the third, he realized. But there was something else that caught his attention. ¡°Cursed object?¡± ¡°We¡¯ll get to that,¡± Madame dismissed the question. ¡°That doesn¡¯t matter now. What does matter is the possibility of something you¡¯ve generated being what¡¯s called a ¡®unique.¡¯¡± Freddy was about to ask what it was but immediately realized she would likely explain it anyway, so he kept quiet. It was going to be something, he realized, once he noticed that Mark¡¯s jaw dropped upon hearing that. Madame smiled. ¡°A unique is an ether construct that holds a true soul within.¡± She jokingly wagged a finger at Mark and nodded approvingly. ¡°That¡¯s a pretty appropriate reaction. Uniques are, well, unique among ether constructs. ¡°They contain far fewer limits and are priceless in value. Unique cursed objects, for example, can grow in power. Say you have a cursed sword and use it in combat. Depending on its affinity, it would have some form of extraordinary ability. Usually, a cursed sword would lose power with use, eventually becoming garbage like any weapon did with time. On the other hand, a unique cursed sword would evolve and grow along with its user. ¡°Then you have unique prime vestiges. Simply put, they completely ignore that you¡¯re already an arch, allowing you to acquire another talent and more affinities.¡± He paled upon hearing that, but Madame waved him down. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, that little thing you sold wasn¡¯t a unique prime. Only three have ever been found, and their asking price is above what money can afford. ¡°There are also many different shades of unique treasures, all possessing some form of absurd effect that ignores conventional limits, and the last one, the type of unique that is likely the least rare but also the most difficult to obtain¡ªunique sentient ether constructs.¡± It took all he had to not show any external reaction, and by some miracle, he managed to keep his heart from beating faster than was ordinary for a situation like this. ¡°These,¡± she continued, ¡°are notorious for being frighteningly dangerous. We have encountered plenty of them. But they grow too powerful by scouring the passages and swiftly become eidolons that nobody is qualified to subjugate. If one were to discover a unique vestige, on the other hand¡­ well, that¡¯s a different story. Their defining trait is that they possess true will.¡± Every sentence she uttered made his blood grow colder. ¡°What makes them so priceless, however, is something else. Ether shells, and subsequently, their abilities, can¡¯t be evolved through any random concept. There needs to be some form of connection. Uniques don¡¯t have that sort of limit. You can use any unique to upgrade any ability. Do you want the general death concept tied to a fire spell? What about fusing heat and cold into an unholy abomination that defies basic logic? What about making your water sharper than a sword? ¡°Not just that, but also, upon absorbing a unique, you will acquire the affinities it holds a connection to, and if you already have one of the affinities, it will evolve into a unique affinity.¡± ¡°So¡­¡± he started, gulping. ¡°Do you think I generated a unique vestige!?¡± he exaggerated his panic. It was pretty easy, given how he already felt. Madame nodded hesitantly. ¡°It¡¯s possible. And I¡¯m starting to form a few theories about who might be after you. It probably disappeared from where it spawned, and you are among the suspects who might have taken it.¡± It really pissed him off that she phrased that as if he¡¯d stolen the damn thing. He was the one who manifested it. It was rightfully his. ¡°Either way,¡± she said, finally finishing the final sip of her cocktail. ¡°I think that¡¯s all we can talk about. I can¡¯t really share any further details without compromising your safety. I will say one last thing, however,¡± she started, smiling at them gently and softening her voice. ¡°You are under my protection, and while that is the case, you can feel free to focus on your work. I will use my influence to keep you safe, and we¡¯ll figure something out for when you¡¯re done with your contractual obligations.¡± ¡°I¡ª¡± Mark tried, but couldn¡¯t bring himself to speak. ¡°You can relax,¡± Madame assured him. ¡°Your family is safe under my protection, and yes, while your services aren¡¯t strictly necessary, we will extend your contract for another three months,¡± she said with a wink. ¡°What about¡­?¡± He gulped. ¡°My family. This has put us into a¡­ rather unfortunate¡ª¡± ¡°I can¡¯t help you with that,¡± she said flatly. He frowned, a look of frustration flashing through his expression. ¡°Why?¡± ¡°Because that would create a weakness,¡± she stated, picking her cocktail back up and swirling the straw around. ¡°If I make a habit of doing that, my enemies will make a habit of harassing the people under me to force me to dip into my personal funds. Stopping once I start would be tricky because it would cost me the loyalty of my subjects.¡± ¡°Couldn¡¯t you¡­¡± Mark tried, but¡ª ¡°I¡¯d love to make an exception,¡± she said, smiling sympathetically, ¡°but I can¡¯t. I made that mistake once already, and it hurt far more people than it helped¡­ Don¡¯t worry, though¡­¡± Her expression darkened. ¡°When I find out who¡¯s behind this, I will pay them back. Nobody will make a mockery of my name and get away with it. I promise you that.¡± Mark and Freddy gulped nervously, and after some more inane chatting, they headed home. *** Mark¡¯s apartment had already been cleaned up, likely as a favor from Madame, and his door had been repaired. They entered the room, mostly staying quiet, until¡ª ¡°So,¡± Freddy said, yawning loudly. ¡°I think I¡¯m gonna take a short nap.¡± ¡°In my living room? Dude, go home,¡± the young man said, clearly tired from all that had happened today. ¡°No,¡± he refused. ¡°I don¡¯t think I will.¡± Then, with an evident change to his tone, he said, ¡°I think I want to take a nap right here.¡± He promptly closed his eyes and appeared within the Netherecho. Mark didn¡¯t take too long to catch on, and as the mannequin representing his body appeared, so did his projection. ¡°What are you¡ª¡± Mark started, but¡ª ¡°Do not talk about Bloodshed,¡± he said, ¡°and don¡¯t trust anything Madame says.¡± With that, he left the Netherecho, and the man soon followed. ¡°Dude, you¡­¡± ¡°Your couch is hella uncomfortable, bro,¡± he said teasingly. ¡°I think I prefer my bed instead. I¡¯ll see you tomorrow. Good night.¡± He waved goodbye to the man and left his apartment. Moments later, he was at his place, walking over to a specific drawer in the kitchen. A crumpled-up grocery bag was in there, and, with the drawer still open, he entered the Netherecho. His projection slithered into the drawer, walking over to the small, crumpled bag. His tiny hand landed on the bag, and with a push of his will, he gradually sank into it, appearing within the smushed space with the giant skeleton. ¡°Bloodshed¡ª¡± he greeted. He now knew how this thing had disobeyed him and followed him here despite being explicitly told not to. Because it had a will of its own. He couldn¡¯t safely get rid of Bloodshed and couldn¡¯t use it himself since it was too powerful to enter his soul. And it wasn¡¯t like he could sell it, either. He only had one option¡ªensure that it remained loyal to him and keep it hidden at all costs. ¡°¡ªI bring dire news,¡± he continued. ¡°What is it, my lord?¡± ¡°Gah!¡± he spat angrily. ¡°My enemies¡­ they are after you!¡± ¡°After¡­ me?¡± ¡°Yes, my loyal minion,¡± he said, clenching his fists and turning to look at the wall of the grocery bag. ¡°They fear the potential you have, the contribution to my future plans you might provide! They wish to cut you down before you grow to your full potential, but they aren¡¯t aware of where you hide.¡± ¡°My lord¡­ should we eradicate them?¡± ¡°Patience, my little lake of blood,¡± he declared dramatically. ¡°All will come with time. Speaking of which, I do not have much left. I will speak with you again soon when I am confident they aren¡¯t watching.¡± He had spent much time talking to the remnant and developed a sense of how it operated. While getting it to do what he wanted wasn¡¯t hard, bringing it to understand could be tricky. Speaking in terms it could more readily comprehend just made the process faster. Bloodshed nodded, and he retreated, leaving the Netherecho. ¡°Where was it again?¡± He scratched the back of his head, pretending that he was just looking for something. ¡°I guess not here¡­ Well, whatever.¡± He proceeded with his regular routine, eating, cleaning himself, and going to sleep. Or at least trying to. But he couldn¡¯t. Because how the hell was he supposed to walk out of this situation alive? Chapter 21 - Shame Although being watched over did mean that Freddy was at least somewhat safe, it made some of the tasks he had to do painfully embarrassing. He yet again squatted as deep as he could and made yet another clumsy jump forward¡ªfor what was likely past the hundredth time in a row. That day was the first time he had used the Frog Leap technique. Not only did using it give him a splitting headache, but it also felt like something was being violently shoved up his ass whenever he triggered the ability. He had gotten rather lucky with Flowing Strike, which suited him quite well, but this version of Frog Leap simply didn¡¯t fit him. This meant he had to buy a new movement ability or make one himself. Now, Frog Leap was a decent ability, but he had grown more ambitious lately. So, if he had to choose between an easy way out or a challenge, he would pick the latter every time. Thus, he had tasked himself with manifesting a particular ability¡ªHydraulic Flex. This wasn¡¯t a movement ability, at least strictly speaking. It was a general martial arts technique. It used a pump of pressure to flex a specific muscle. It was generally considered top-tier for all forms of martial arts. And it also couldn¡¯t be obtained through a scroll. Manifesting this ability was a tremendous investment of time and effort. Everyone was unique, and this ability needed to fully suit whoever was using it. Many tried and succeeded at creating a partial version that only worked on a few select muscles. But he was hellbent on making it perfect. Regarding mobility, Hydraulic Flex was a one-stop shop for everything from jumps, leaps, dashes, running, swinging, and pretty much all forms of parkour. In fact, Frog Leap was just a limited version of the skill, one that focused on leaps. Getting down into another squat and focusing on the water in his legs, Freddy exerted his essence again and tried compressing the water to enhance the flex of his muscles. It yet again failed to do anything but cramp his leg, and this time, he sprawled on the ground. Yet again, he realized how lucky he was to have 1% Lifesteal. One of the primary barriers to mastering Hydraulic Flex was the ever-present risk of setbacks due to injury. For him, that was far from a concern. It had been only a few days since his meeting with Madame. He had already noted that his growth was slowing down, but the degree had drastically worsened over the past few days. He sensed himself running out of essence again, so he meditated. Keeping Bloodshed fully hidden was the best for the time being, so he no longer had help gathering. Still, he was improving enough that it wasn¡¯t a massive hindrance. Blue wisps flowed toward him, seeping into his soul and slightly aiding his essence recovery. But they seemingly made no impact on the size of his star. He pushed his meditation onward, but he was out of water wisps to consume even before his willpower faltered. With a deep sigh, he got up and continued his standard training, too low on essence to continue practicing his techniques. This was the main problem he was facing. There was Flowing Strike, his tempering techniques, Create Water, and now, he was working on Hydraulic Flex. It was akin to a penniless beggar making an extensive shopping list. There just wasn¡¯t enough essence to go around. Focusing on his star, he felt for its capacity. When he tried sensing it, he could roughly feel how far along his progress was to reaching the apex of the first star¡¯s total potential. At that moment, he felt that he was at around 27%, a bit over a quarter of the way to finishing his star. Even with the slow-down accounted for, he had been expecting to be able to increase his reserves by at least another 10% in the next month. Now? He wasn¡¯t sure if he¡¯d raise them by 2%. This meant he had to schedule different techniques on different days, making him feel like his progress had slowed to a crawl. Stabbing the mangled mass of flesh to heal himself perfectly, he punched and kicked the tree. His fists had grown bulkier, and his wrist had widened. The top of his feet felt like a solid plate of bone, and the bottom felt like tanned leather. His shins were as solid as iron. His physique was gradually becoming more and more suited for martial arts. Unfortunately, however, the changes had slowed there, too, with the only noticeable difference being his continuous weight gain and muscular growth, but even that was slowing down. It was the same with his strength in the gym. He could bench 155 kg, squat 281 kg, and deadlift 334 kg. It was an improvement compared to what he could do less than three weeks ago, but given how much he¡¯d grown the three weeks before that, it wasn¡¯t as impressive a difference. In fact, most of it seemed to be from pure muscle growth. Mark still easily tripled his numbers, which was ridiculous for a one-star arch. But perhaps even more impressive than his strength was his endurance. He was a perpetual motion machine, slamming the tree endlessly without slowing down. None of his moves were awe-inspiring. It was just plain low, mid, high, and straight strikes with a few basic variations. Even with his physique and training, martial artists who had trained against other people would still kick his ass. But a heavenly tower would stand upon the foundation that he was building. Maybe. Hopefully. All he could do at that moment was place one stone at a time. *** Given that he needed every damn shred of ether he could get a hold of, Freddy was gathering practically all the time. Mark was bewildered that he could handle so much meditative gathering. Soul fatigue was torturous, and his ability to handle it so well showed how much willpower he had built over the last two months. While there was a large pool of water in the gym, that didn¡¯t mean that there were many wisps to gather. After all, he was far from the only water-affinity arch in the gym, and many used recovery techniques and such after sets, then gathered a bit to recover some lost essence. This was a problem, but it wasn¡¯t a massive one. If he focused enough, he could pull water wisps from further away, gathering more from outside the building. However, as some reached closer, they drifted to the side. He could only attract a portion of them into his soul, and the rest was lost to another gym member who just happened to be gathering at the same time. Well, that¡¯s fucking annoying, he thought, sighing. Suddenly, a deep voice came from behind him, ¡°Hey buddy, how about you take a hike?¡± He turned around, staring up at the bald man who appeared to be in his thirties, standing around a head taller than him, and although there was plenty of fat, it was undeniable that the man was a mountain of muscle. ¡°Is there a problem?¡± Mark asked the man. ¡°Yeah,¡± the man confirmed, glaring at Freddy. ¡°Boytoy over here is stealing my wisps.¡± He scowled. ¡°The fuck did you just call me, fat ass?¡± If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. ¡°Oh, you want it?¡± the man asked angrily, stepping forward. ¡°Whoa, whoa there, is there a problem?¡± This time, it was Steve who came to see what was happening. The man turned to face the trainer and explained the situation. Steve merely raised an eyebrow and clarified, ¡°Look, uh¡­ You¡¯re Hilbert, right? It¡¯s uhm¡­ We¡¯re in, uh¡­ We¡¯re in a gym,¡± he reminded, exaggeratedly waving a hand behind him. ¡°This isn¡¯t a gathering ground. While some consider it rude, it¡¯s not illegal to yoink a few wisps that someone just happened to be going for. They¡¯re public property and free for anyone to take.¡± ¡°Bu¡ª¡± ¡°There are no buts,¡± the trainer interrupted. ¡°I don¡¯t care. Harassing other members is against the rules. I¡¯m warning you; repeat this again, and I will revoke your membership.¡± After a few seconds of hesitation and yet another hostile glance at Freddy, the man scoffed and walked away. ¡°Don¡¯t be shy, Fred,¡± Steve said with a pat on his shoulder. ¡°If he causes trouble for you again, let me know.¡± And then he also turned and left. Mark was about to say something but was interrupted as Fred shot him a devious grin. ¡°Mark¡­ Marky. Darling.¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°What are the odds of that guy jumping me when I leave the gym?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± Mark tried comforting him. ¡°As long as I¡¯m here, you¡ª¡± ¡°No, no, no, don¡¯t get me wrong. It¡¯s not that I¡¯m afraid of him¡­¡± he said leadingly. ¡°Freddy,¡± Mark said with a roll of his eyes. ¡°Really?¡± ¡°Yeah, what¡¯s the problem?¡± ¡°That¡¯s just¡­¡± The man sighed. ¡°You know, that¡¯s really not like you.¡± ¡°What?¡± he asked. ¡°I¡¯ve noticed that you¡¯ve¡­¡± Mark said with some hesitation. ¡°Look, confidence is a good thing, but don¡¯t let it go to your head.¡± ¡°Dude,¡± he said, shooting Mark an exasperated glance. ¡°I was willing to let it go and be the bigger man, but no, this bastard comes in looking for a fight,¡± he defended himself. ¡°It wouldn¡¯t be my fault if he fucked around and found out.¡± ¡°And you¡¯ll willingly walk into that?¡± the trainer asked him. ¡°Really!? Why?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve never been in a fight,¡± he said. ¡°Well, not since I was a kid. And I don¡¯t have any other way to get battle experience.¡± Mark rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically. ¡°A street brawl like that wouldn¡¯t really count as ¡®battle experience.¡¯¡± ¡°I disagree.¡± ¡°Oh, really?¡± Mark spat, his exasperation morphing into genuine anger. ¡°What if that man pulls a weapon on you? Even if he doesn¡¯t, you¡ª¡± ¡°You really think I¡¯m going to die?¡± ¡°Do you think you¡¯re¡­?¡± Mark started, then paused as he likely remembered that someone was watching Freddy. Whoever it was, they would intervene if the fight became life-threatening. ¡°Still, it¡¯s dangerous.¡± ¡°Because I could get injured?¡± he said mockingly. ¡°Okay, be honest with me¡ªis this just because you want to fight that man?¡± Freddy grinned in response. ¡°You know what, just do whatever you want, but please,¡± Mark added, ¡°don¡¯t get yourself kicked out of the gym.¡± ¡°I have two witnesses that he is the instigator,¡± he said confidently. ¡°No matter what happens, he¡¯ll be the one to blame.¡± *** Freddy sauntered out of the gym. It had been a while since he had been afraid of pain. And he still wasn¡¯t. But he had to be honest. Getting into a fight made him a bit jittery. It wasn¡¯t necessarily fear of getting hurt, but it was like¡­ it would just be really embarrassing to get his ass kicked. Maybe it was his manly ego, but he couldn¡¯t deny that pride was on the line here. Still, he resolved to go through it. If Mark¡¯s prediction was correct, bullshit like this could become a regular part of his life. Even if he got his ass handed to him, it could be worth it just for the experience. But as he walked on, he realized the man was nowhere to be seen. He had seen the man leaving the gym a while back, so it could be that he had either gotten bored of waiting or took Steve¡¯s warning seriously. He glanced around, observing the people walking around him until he¡ª Wait. This was out in public. Getting into a fight in broad daylight could result in someone calling the authorities. Given that he was getting close to his building, he had to do something immediately if he wanted a fight. With a smooth movement, as if that had been his plan from the start, Freddy turned and walked into a tight alley between his building and the neighboring one. It didn¡¯t take him long to cross it halfway, and once he did, he stopped and turned around. Nobody seemed to be coming that way, and he moved to lean against the wall. Hiding in a back alley like this made him feel like some sort of hooligan, and perhaps it wouldn¡¯t be unfair to say that, at that moment, he genuinely was being a hooligan. His idle thoughts were finally interrupted as the burly man, or rather, Hilbert walked into the alley. ¡°Hilbert, is it?¡± he called, putting his hands into his pockets and desperately regretting that he wasn¡¯t holding a cigarette he could dramatically flick aside. Rather than say anything, the man just walked toward him, approaching him as if he were heading to throw out the trash. Although the man¡¯s confidence was intimidating, he wouldn¡¯t leave this hubris unpunished. The man strode forward, and as he stepped just before him, he immediately pulled his fist back and readied to throw a straight. An attack that couldn¡¯t possibly be more straightforward. Dodging a punch or getting out of the way was so much more challenging than he had ever expected, and he didn¡¯t even manage to raise his guard properly; instead, he took a giant fist directly to the face and tumbled back. The man immediately rushed forward and kicked him in the stomach, pushing him further away. The sheer rush of adrenaline got him off the ground, and the man was taken aback. ¡°Tough bastard,¡± he spat. Freddy wouldn¡¯t agree with that one. His face felt like it had been caved in, and he felt like his internal organs had been rearranged. At that moment, he thought that perhaps getting into a fight with someone twice his size wasn¡¯t his brightest idea. The man rushed forward again, and he hesitated once more. There was an opening under the man¡¯s wide swing, and nothing defended the man from retaliation besides his relative size and reach. As long as he threw an uppercut at the man¡¯s face or kicked at his stomach before the punch landed, his target couldn¡¯t defend himself. So he tried to go in, activating Flowing Strike. His fist landed on the man¡¯s face, but presented with a moving target, he mistimed his ability and lost almost all the force. His preemptive attack ultimately failed to stop the man from swinging again at him, and, this time, through sheer panic, he raised his left arm to defend himself. The man¡¯s punch landed awkwardly, so he grabbed the arm to throw him aside. But before the man could do that, Freddy panicked again, swinging a wild haymaker with Flowing Strike right at Hilbert¡¯s face, who didn¡¯t seem to be expecting him to be in a position to attack like that, so he had no time to react. The Flowing Strike landed with a nasty crunching sound, and in the eyes of the completely disoriented Freddy, the man seemingly vanished out of sight. Glancing around, wondering through what magic this giant hunk of a man managed to disappear, he finally looked down, only to find his target unconscious on the ground. Only then did he register the influx of lifesteal and realize that he had accidentally landed a critical hit, knocking his opponent out with a single strike. ¡°Hahaha¡­¡± he laughed. ¡°Hahahaha! Fuck you, asshole!¡± he yelled as he kicked the man in the stomach and stepped back. His face and neck hurt like hell, and he brought a hand to touch his nose. It was utterly shattered, and he was bleeding so much that he felt lightheaded. ¡°Shit¡­¡± he whispered. Rather than wait for the mountain of muscle to get up, he prepared to run away, but something unusual happened suddenly¡ªan unexpected rush of essence flowed into his soul, and it wasn¡¯t a small amount, either. He couldn¡¯t stop his gaze from drifting back to the body on the ground. As it did, his breath caught in his throat. The head was turned at an odd angle. Freddy¡¯s breath released, but it was shallow. There was a dark blue patch on the neck, and it seemed to be spreading rapidly. His hands shook, and he couldn¡¯t stop his left palm from rushing to his mouth. ¡°This¡­ It can¡¯t be¡­ With just that¡­?¡± Suddenly, a figure almost too fast for him to see fluttered down from above and picked up the man, only to vanish into thin air. ¡°Wait!¡± he yelled, stumbling forward. ¡°Is he¡­? Oh, God.¡± His breaths came faster and shorter. ¡°Oh my God.¡± He pulled his shirt over his bloody head, hiding his face, and rushed out of the alley. He was right next to his building, so it didn¡¯t take long for him to run in and reach his apartment. As he did, he locked the door behind him and immediately rushed to his kitchen. The mass of flesh lay on the ground nearby, and he grabbed the knife to take a stab at it. But as he saw the blade in his hands, he couldn¡¯t keep hold of it, and it soon fell from his grasp, clattering to the ground. His breathing grew even more difficult as blood rushed and pooled in his nasal cavity, and he found himself coughing it out, his vision turning blurry. With all he could muster, he gripped the kitchen knife and stabbed. It was hesitantly at first, but the soothing sensation overpowered his reluctance, and he continued striking at it in a daze. He didn¡¯t know how long had passed, but he had calmed down somewhat and was already fully healed. Sitting on the ground, sweaty, covered in blood, and holding a knife, he whispered, ¡°I¡­ I¡¯m a murderer.¡± Chapter 22 - Annoying Enemy As Freddy walked into the gym, Mark greeted him, ¡°Hey, man, what¡¯s up?¡± Then he asked the dreaded question, ¡°So¡­ did that guy come after you?¡± ¡°Nah,¡± he lied. ¡°He must have pussied out.¡± ¡°I see¡­¡± Mark said, his voice drifting off. ¡°Honestly, I thought about it a bit, and I think the smartest thing to do would be to just apologize.¡± Freddy remained quiet. Mark continued, ¡°It¡¯s much better to take a small hit to your pride than deal with trouble that isn¡¯t worth it.¡± Freddy looked at Mark with a distant gaze and a smile that didn¡¯t reach his eyes. ¡°Yeah. I¡¯ll¡­ I¡¯ll keep that in mind.¡± *** It didn¡¯t take Freddy particularly long to rationalize his actions. That guy was a dumbass, and he could have gone after someone else. If that had happened, the roles could have been reversed. No matter how he thought of it, that idiot was a hostile maniac who should have been taken out. In fact, he was willing to go as far as to say that if placed in that situation again, he¡¯d make the same choices, even knowing the results. But¡­ his excuses didn¡¯t change anything. Every time he woke up in the morning, his essence reserves would be topped off. The morning after that incident, he woke up and checked his essence reserves¡ªthey were at 28%¡ª1 % more than the day before. Every time he struck out with a technique, a shred of its power felt borrowed. Stolen. And it would forever be a part of him. By day, when around people or training, he was fine. Things were different at night. Repeatedly, he would wake up in a cold sweat, nightmares ravaging his mind whenever he closed his eyes: images of how easily a neck snapped, the visions of a body appearing before he could tell what happened. Every time he trained, every step forward he took, and every bit of progress he made¡­ suddenly, it felt so heavy. What exactly was he preparing himself for? Days passed, and eventually, on one evening, just as he was about to take the collection of medicines¡­ His doorbell rang. Freddy walked over, expecting it to be Mark. But as he looked through the spyglass, he spotted Matt Canstone, the assistant, instead. He couldn¡¯t keep a breath from escaping his lips. With quite a bit of hesitation, he turned the lock and opened the door. ¡°Hello,¡± Matt said. ¡°May I come in?¡± Freddy¡¯s mind froze when he heard the question. ¡°Uhm¡­ sure, feel free. I¡¯ll uh¡­ Yeah, do you want me to order something to drink?¡± ¡°No need for that, but thank you, regardless.¡± The handsome auburn-haired man sat on the couch in the living room, and he sat across from him, shifting awkwardly. ¡°You can relax,¡± the man said. ¡°I¡¯m not here for business. I just wanted to have a conversation with you.¡± Regardless of what the man said, there was no way in hell he was here without Madame¡¯s knowledge. And if she allowed him to come here, it was because she was playing at something. He showed no indication of his suspicion outwardly, instead feigning relaxation. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ Am I in trouble?¡± he asked. ¡°No, you are not,¡± the man said. Before long, he added, ¡°You don¡¯t have to worry. The situation has been dealt with¡ªofficially, it would be concluded that Hilbert died during a delve.¡± Although it made him feel ashamed, Freddy couldn¡¯t help but feel a sense of relief at that. ¡°I see¡­ Thank you, and I apologize for the trouble I caused.¡± Matt simply smiled and nodded slightly. Then, with a swing of his hand, a large bottle of alcohol appeared, and two glasses appeared next to it. Ah, okay¡­ he thought. So that¡¯s what he meant by no need. ¡°Do you want to have a drink with me?¡± Matt asked, shaking him out of his thoughts. ¡°Uhm¡­ I¡¯m not personally in the mood for it. Thank you for the offer, though,¡± he thanked the man. Truthfully, he wanted a sip but was afraid that it was spiked with something. ¡°I see. That¡¯s all right,¡± Matt said as he poured himself a glass and took a swig. With a deep sigh, he turned to face him. ¡°That was similar to how my first happened.¡± ¡°What did?¡± he asked. ¡°The way that man died by your hands.¡± The bluntness of the man¡¯s statement was like a punch to his stomach, but he just nodded in response, waiting for the man to continue. ¡°I¡¯m a single father,¡± Matt said. ¡°When my daughter was two years old, I took her everywhere since I couldn¡¯t bear to leave her alone.¡± He poured more of the pungent drink into the glass and downed half the glass in one gulp. ¡°One night, I had some late shopping, so I took her with me. I put her down briefly at her request to walk by herself. That was when that man appeared. ¡°He looked homeless and disheveled. With sure steps, he approached my daughter and reached to grab her. I reacted instinctively, kicking him in the head. His neck broke, and he fell to the ground.¡± Freddy sat silently, then said, ¡°Seems fair enough to me.¡± ¡°The court said the same thing,¡± the man added with a lethargic chuckle and another sip. ¡°I was never punished for my actions, but¡­ I¡¯ve never made peace with what I¡¯ve done. ¡°I don¡¯t know who he was or why he did what he did. Perhaps he was on drugs and saw something that made him reach for my daughter. I don¡¯t truly know if his intent was to harm or take her¡­ He didn¡¯t jump at her. He didn¡¯t have the eyes of a predator. He simply reached out with his hand,¡± he said, gesturing the motion. ¡°Maybe he just wanted to pat her on the head, and I judged him by his appearance before he could prove his innocence,¡± he confessed, tearing up a bit. ¡°And my lovely angel¡­ ¡°She claims she doesn¡¯t remember seeing that happen, but I see it in her eyes. She jumps when I show up beside her without her noticing. She averts her gaze when she holds mine for too long. Even if she doesn¡¯t remember, I¡¯m sure the experience still haunts her, lurking deep in a long-forgotten corner of her early childhood memories.¡± Freddy listened with rapt attention, nodding slightly at the man¡¯s words. ¡°Yeah, I¡­ I definitely wouldn¡¯t want to trade places with you.¡± The man chuckled a bit. ¡°Indeed. And I¡¯d trade places with you in a heartbeat.¡± ¡°So, you¡¯re the one observing me?¡± he asked the man, but the assistant stared at him with a mysterious smile. Then, ignoring the question, Matt said, ¡°I wanted to give you a few words of advice. First, never get into a fight unless you¡¯re prepared to kill your opponent. Never.¡± He let the word sink in for a moment. ¡°Let me ask you something. Would you wield a knife if you wanted to fight someone but didn¡¯t want to seriously injure or kill them?¡± He frowned at that and shook his head. ¡°Obviously not,¡± Matt said. ¡°A knife is a weapon. Weapons injure and kill, by definition. While being unarmed seems less hostile, that is nothing but a misconception. A punch can have serious consequences even between mortals; killing someone takes a lot less effort than people think. With archhumans, it becomes much worse. Special constitutions, talents, techniques¡­ These are far more dangerous than a mundane knife,¡± he declared. ¡°You might believe you can learn to hold back or control your strength. But when you¡¯re about to lose, instinct takes over.¡± Freddy took the words in and couldn¡¯t help but ask, ¡°Sir, do you¡­ Do you think I¡¯m at fault here?¡± The man scoffed at the question. ¡°Fault?¡± He laughed a bit. ¡°There is no such thing as fault among the powerful¡­ ¡°There is only shame,¡± the man stated, his expression darkening, ¡°and not everyone has it.¡± *** The days passed, and Freddy made steady progress. He felt he¡¯d never get anywhere with how he split the techniques. So, for the time being, he kicked Create Water out of the schedule. It was an essential ability, yes¡­ but for creating spells. And with his many abilities, getting more was far from his biggest priority. He had also paused Abyssal Depths. This only left him with Flowing Strike, Hundred Wet Hells, and his work on creating Hydraulic Flex. He did Hundred Wet Hells one day, Flowing Strike another day, and worked on Hydraulic Flex on both. Although meditative gathering was considerably faster than manual gathering, it was only so if there were enough wisps of his affinity around. Since it didn¡¯t take long to exhaust an area, he often had to swap to manual gathering. On a rather ordinary day, having finished his gym work, he went to the forest to work on his techniques and martial arts. Draining all the water wisps didn¡¯t take long, as usual, so he entered the Netherecho through his projection. And when he appeared, he finally noticed the sensation he had been waiting for. While meditative gathering could only be used through one¡¯s actual body, there was a one-time exception to this rule. A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Ether constructs could exist in several forms, but they all needed to be attached to an anchor. Personified ether constructs were attached to a concept; ether shells were attached to a soul; prime vestiges were anchored to reality; and non-personified ether constructs were either attached to a representation of a physical object, a personified ether construct, or a projection. In the first case, that was how cursed objects were created. The second case was when vestiges, for example, had a weapon or a piece of equipment. And the third option¡­ Every ascended had a latent soul construct they could manifest and use through their projection. Knowing what one would get until one got it was impossible, so it was mainly down to luck. Still, one could make a rather good guess, depending on the nature of their talent. And this was where that one-time exception came in. His little projection sat on the ground, and he put his palms together. When he focused, contemplating not the concept of water but rather his prime talent, a few nearby wisps reacted to his call. Uh¡­ Several metal wisps were popping out of the ground and tumbling toward him, which was a good sign, but something unusual happened. The patch of marsh he trained close to bubbled, and small balls of what looked like molten masses of skulls bounced toward him. Death wisps. Metal and death, it seemed, would be the ingredients for whatever his soul was about to manifest. It didn¡¯t take a genius to guess what it would likely be. A weapon began taking shape as the wisps gathered and concentrated between his little, gloved palms. In seconds, a metallic clang ran out, and a large armament appeared in his grasp. Of course¡­ He got a damn scythe. Shimmering with a blue gleam, the scythe was a menacing piece of equipment, arching over in a large half-moon with a shaft twice as tall as the body of his projection. Soul constructs could be a myriad of different things. While getting something like a bundle of flowers seemed horribly underwhelming, one must remember that fighting was far from the only option one had when dealing with vestiges. They had no such thing as a ¡°desire to live¡± unless they were explicitly attached to such an idea. Charming them with flowers was a solid strategy for getting them to voluntarily crawl into one¡¯s soul or even forfeit their existence. In fact, as a soul construct, it would hold a supernatural allure or otherwise increase the odds of persuasion working in those circumstances. But¡­ well¡­ he couldn¡¯t say he was disappointed. He focused on the scythe and tried to discover what it did. He focused, pushing his essence through it in trepidation, but no matter how hard he concentrated, it didn¡¯t respond. Oh, come on! Whatever its special power was, it was a passive effect. If he had to guess, he would say that it would likely cause vestiges to rot on touch. While this seemed great, it was common knowledge that soul constructs with an active effect were far superior to those with passive effects in at least ninety-nine out of a hundred cases. While passives were great during sustained combat, actives were far better when dealing with a single powerful opponent. And in the Netherecho, well, there was no such thing as ¡°sustained combat¡± unless one had a few screws loose and a death wish. Personified ether constructs should always be tackled one at a time. In such cases, an active ability that imbued his weapon with a decisive, powerful rot attack would be infinitely better than a passive effect. Either way, at least for the foreseeable future, it didn¡¯t matter to him. As soon as he was done with his contract and could go on an expedition somewhere, he could use Bloodshed to deal with vestiges and remnants. The primary reason why he cared about his soul construct for now, and the reason why he was glad that he received a weapon, was because it could be used to harvest wisps during manual gathering. It wouldn¡¯t be much faster than picking them up, but beggars couldn¡¯t be choosers. Freddy took a few practice swings with his weapon and couldn¡¯t stop himself from getting a little giggly. The scythe felt weightless in his grasp, and every time he swung it, it left a black mist in its path. So freakin¡¯ cool. Now, then, it was time to test it with manual gathering. He located a small earth wisp just a bit to his side and swung at it. The scythe cleaved through it effortlessly, and he felt the ether and essence move into his¡­ Suddenly, his little legs ran back toward his body, and once he arrived there, he blinked. He had just felt something unusual, and it shocked him enough to force him out of the Netherecho. Swallowing hard, he dove in again and carefully approached another wisp, taking a swing at it. The wood wisp was sliced apart, and the tiny droplet of ether felt the same as always. But the amount of essence his swing extracted was far more significant than usual. He had done quite a bit of reading on the topic, and he knew that using a weapon to do this increased neither the ether nor the essence recovery. It should just make the unraveling faster. Which could only mean one thing¡ª Don¡¯t fucking tell me¡­ that this thing¡¯s passive is¡­ The words didn¡¯t come to mind easily, but as he finally pushed past his incredulity, he realized what he was dealing with. Essence Extraction!? That was absurd. There was no mention of anything like that in any of the books he¡¯d read. One¡¯s soul construct mattered, yes, but it was exclusively due to how much easier or more challenging it would be to handle personified ether constructs. Something that could affect essence recovery, however¡­ ¡°Holy fucking!¡± That was on the level of a talent. Not only that, but talents that affected essence recovery were easily among the most desirable. Yet again, he returned to his body, and this time, he took a deep breath. Relax, Freddy¡­ it might not be that good. The last thing he¡¯d want was to get too excited and overreact. So, he returned to the Netherecho again and began the test run of his new soul construct. Filling his essence back to total capacity was something he couldn¡¯t do even with several straight hours of gathering. But when nearly empty, his soul recovered essence faster. Usually, he would dive into the Netherecho for around fifteen to twenty minutes at a time, which would be enough to regain approximately 5% essence. Then, once he spent that, he would return and do the same thing. He did as usual this time, spending roughly fifteen minutes in the Netherecho. But the longer he spent there, the more he felt the pull to go back to his body so it could process the shock. Because by the time he was done, he hadn¡¯t regained a mere 5% essence. He had regained nearly 22%. *** For the next few days, he spent most of his time not abusing his newly discovered cheat but contemplating how he would hide it. It didn¡¯t take long for him to land on the perfect solution. He just wouldn¡¯t. There wasn¡¯t enough merit to doing so. Madame almost definitely wouldn¡¯t hesitate to snatch Bloodshed if she discovered it, but that was different. Bloodshed was something she could use. His talent wasn¡¯t. On top of that, if he wanted to remain safe after leaving Madame¡¯s protection, using this advantage to become more powerful would serve him far better than hiding it. He still didn¡¯t intend to advertise that he could do this, and he made sure to disguise it to the best of his ability, but if someone was keeping an eye on him, it wouldn¡¯t be long until they discovered that something was off. As more days passed, his growth sped up even further. His star was, yet again, growing at a crawl, but his ether shells were developing rapidly. Hydraulic Flex was still far from being finished, but Hundred Wet Hells was at least 20% along with being able to upgrade to a stage one ability, and Flowing Strike was closer to 40%. As his time spent here passed two months, he noticed something worrisome. He had to stop using the steroids because, simply put, he was growing too big. While his muscular growth was utterly insane initially, it had slowed down somewhat. But it was still going. He had already reached 91 kg. He had put on 11 kg of weight in less than three weeks. While some of that mass was due to his limited use of Abyssal Depths, judging from what he knew of the tempering technique, with how little he had used it, it couldn¡¯t have added more than 100 grams to his total weight. Even if his growth slowed further, another four months of development like that would put him way above 100 kg. Being at around that much mass would still be manageable, but if he grew much more than that, it would seriously compromise his mobility. Freddy wasn¡¯t all that tall, either. Mark, who was much bigger than him, weighed 115 kg. But his talent and weapon choice permitted it. He, on the other hand, needed to stay mobile. Although he was quick to kick the drugs out of his schedule, he wouldn¡¯t limit his calorie intake. Because otherwise, he might just starve to death. *** On another ordinary evening, Freddy was getting ready to go to bed until his doorbell rang again. He immediately knew it would be exhausting, but he forced himself to walk there anyway. The moment he peeked through the spyglass, however, his stomach dropped. Madame stood before his room entrance, wearing a loose, white dress, her hair tied up into twin ponytails, and her arms crossed right across her torso. Her nails were painted each in a different color, and one finger playfully tapped against her forearm. Although spyglasses were meant to only go one way, her eyes showed she was well aware that he was looking through the other end. He took a single deep breath to calm down and opened the door. ¡°Greetings, Madame!¡± he chirped. ¡°Freddy, darling, how lovely to see you!¡± she said as she walked into the apartment. ¡°Yeah!¡± he concurred. ¡°So, to what do I owe the pleasure?¡± ¡°Please, cut the shit, young man,¡± she said in the most polite tone she could manage with such a phrase. The whiplash momentarily stunned him, and Madame patted him on the shoulder with a casual smile, causing him to jolt reflexively. ¡°You don¡¯t need to pretend to be happy to see me. Anyone can tell that you trust me about as much as a man with IBS trusts a fart, so let¡¯s not do this pretend play, okay?¡± He nodded hesitantly, and Madame walked past him. ¡°Let¡¯s go have a seat. We have something important to talk about.¡± With clenched fists and shaky steps, he followed her, and they sat in the kitchen. It was as if she extracted some sort of sick pleasure from awkward silence, and she let it stretch on for far too long, simply observing him from top to bottom. And then, finally, she spoke up. ¡°You¡¯re growing fast.¡± ¡°That I am,¡± he confirmed, still somewhat stilted. ¡°Lovely. You should have at least asked before dropping the steroids, though.¡± Freddy winced at that and wondered whether she would force him to return to taking them. ¡°I won¡¯t,¡± she said, as if she could read his mind. ¡°I was going to tell you to stop anyway since a freak who belonged in a circus is the last thing I¡¯d want on my show.¡± Then, with a dramatic sigh, she summoned a cocktail from thin air and started taking a long sip through the straw. Then, the way an interrogator questioned a criminal, she opened her mouth and asked him, ¡°How exactly did you manage to piss off the patriarch of the Kraven Clan?¡± ¡°Who?¡± he asked, genuinely confused, but Madame showed no indication that his confusion held any worth to their discussion. ¡°I will be straightforward with you. If I conclude that you knew he was after you and decided to trick me into taking you under my wing anyway,¡± she said, leaning forward and freezing the smile on her lips, ¡°I will kill you immediately.¡± He gritted his teeth. Rage boiled in his heart, but he took a deep breath and calmed down. After all, he was innocent. Even if he wanted to tear her head off her shoulders for the threat, he was powerless to do anything. ¡°Madame,¡± he said, taking a moment to think through what he was about to say. ¡°I have no idea who that person is, and this is the first time I¡¯ve heard of the ¡®Kraven¡¯ clan,¡± he answered honestly, holding her gaze throughout the ordeal. She squinted at him and took another long sip of her drink through the straw. The cocktail ran dry, but she kept slurping it up, producing an annoying sound all the while. ¡°All right, I believe you,¡± she said, just like that, putting the glass back into her storage device with a pop of air rushing to take its place. He didn¡¯t let himself relax. ¡°Well,¡± she said, ¡°I still have to ask you a few things. You¡¯ve somehow made an enemy that is a pain for even me to deal with, and given that I have no choice but to defend you, I would like to request your full cooperation. ¡°So,¡± she continued, ¡°I guess I should clue you in on who we¡¯re dealing with. His name is Janhalar Kraven, and he leads a clan of blood-affinity warriors.¡± It all happened in an instant. The moment she mentioned the clan of blood archhumans, he immediately thought of Bloodshed, and as soon as he did, her arm morphed, extending forward, and her rainbow-colored nails sharpened into pointy claws that grasped his neck, drawing blood. Bent over the table, her arm stretching out of her dress, she struck an utterly inhuman picture, yet it was her expression that sent the fear of death into his heart. With a murderous look of wrath on her face, she growled. ¡°So, you do know something, after all.¡± Chapter 23 - Sneaky ¡°Madame¡ªack! Please!¡± Freddy begged as the sharp, claw-like nails drew blood. Madame pulled him over the table and threw him across the room, and as he landed back first on his wall, he concluded that he was starting to despise being thrown into damn walls. ¡°Please wait!¡± he continued pleading. ¡°Do you know what I hate the most?¡± she asked him as she took a firm step forward. ¡°Idiots who believe they have the right to offload their personal problems onto me. I am an entertainer, Freddy,¡± she said in a way that a pacifist definitely wouldn¡¯t, ¡°and I don¡¯t enjoy conflict.¡± ¡°I swear to you, Madame; I swear to God,¡± he said. ¡°I had no idea that someone was after me!¡± he said honestly. Her eyes squinted. ¡°Then why did you¡ª¡± ¡°I remembered some¡ª¡± he interrupted her, pausing to see whether she would let him speak. She merely remained quiet, waiting for him to continue. ¡°All right,¡± he said, sweating bullets. ¡°Back when we talked about this, I told you about the man who approached me.¡± She squinted harder at that. He continued, ¡°Well, I remembered something, or rather, I-I realized that I misinterpreted something he asked me!¡± he spluttered. ¡°While he was interested in my clothing, that probably wasn¡¯t what he was looking for¡­ because the first thing he asked me was whether I had seen anything bloody in the Netherecho.¡± That made her eyebrows raise slightly, and she gritted her teeth. She opened her mouth to ask a question, but he cut her off before she could do that. ¡°I believe he was looking for a unique vestige! Given that this other blood arch is after me, it¡¯s likely that it hasn¡¯t been found yet and that I¡¯m on the list of suspects!¡± ¡°Well,¡± she said, ¡°Are you hiding it?¡± ¡°Am I hiding a unique vestige!?¡± he spat as if insulted at the question. ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t even know how I would hide it!¡± Intentionally, at least. ¡°Freddy,¡± she fired, her voice colder than ice and sharper than a dagger. ¡°A simple yes or no will suffice; are you hiding a unique vestige?¡± He froze. Technically, the answer to that question was no. He was hiding a unique remnant. But did he have the balls to deny it? For whatever reason, this whole conversation gave him the sense that she could tell whether he was lying. ¡°No¡­¡± So he said the truth. His heart clenched as if cold, skeletal hands had grasped it, and he froze. That was stupid. That was real stupid. Even if she took the damn remnant, it was way better than dying. All he could do now was double down. ¡°No,¡± he said again, ¡°I¡¯m not hiding a unique vestige.¡± ¡°I am going to ask you one more time,¡± she said, taking another aggressive step forward. Her tall, lithe body loomed over him like a reaper, casting a shadow while her narrowed eyes shimmered like glass orbs. He didn¡¯t dare raise his eyes. Droplets of blood flowed from his neck and trickled down his shirt, with every drop marking a step closer to his demise. ¡°Did you,¡± she started, ¡°or did you not hold any suspicion that you would bring enemies to my door by signing a contract with me?¡± ¡°No,¡± he denied without hesitation. ¡°I had no idea.¡± ¡°Very well,¡± she said. ¡°Next question. Are you, or are you not, hiding something important from me?¡± He flinched. Not even a moment passed until her arm stretched and grasped him by the neck, raising his entire body into the air. ¡°Wait!¡± he eked out. ¡°What are you hiding?¡± She demanded an answer, her tone making it very clear that he was royally fucked if he said the wrong thing. ¡°I¡¯m¡ªI¡¯m, wait, please, let me elaborate.¡± ¡°Speak.¡± ¡°All right,¡± he said, nodding frantically. ¡°I discovered the other day that my soul construct can extract essence from wisps!¡± Her lips twitched. Her gaze bore a hole into his eyes as she inspected them, peering so deeply into them that it was as if she were examining his soul. ¡°There is something else,¡± she said, bringing her face closer to his. ¡°I¡­ I¡­¡± He could barely speak from the terror. ¡°I¡­ I told Mark¡­ I¡­ I told him some¡­ de-details¡­ I broke the NDA.¡± He couldn¡¯t tolerate the weight of her gaze any longer, so he closed his eyes and turned his head, gritting his teeth in preparation for whatever was about to come. Until, ¡°Hmph¡ª¡± she scoffed as she retracted her arm, letting his body drop to the ground. ¡°While I don¡¯t appreciate your behavior, it¡¯s hardly out of the norm for someone like¡­ you,¡± she dismissed. Her tongue visibly rubbed over her upper teeth beneath the skin, and she tapped a finger to her lips. ¡°I just can¡¯t brush off the feeling that you¡¯re still scheming something,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯m good at reading people, you see,¡± she declared as he crouched down and cupped her chin between her index finger and thumb as she looked at him again. ¡°And I can practically taste an¡­ incongruence. Something isn¡¯t lining up.¡± He reflexively bit the inside of his cheek. She smiled a bit. ¡°There it is,¡± she remarked as she stretched her arm and poked his cheek, making him flinch violently. Then, with a shrug, she got up. ¡°You aren¡¯t forbidden from keeping secrets, you know.¡± His body language instantly shifted as an aching hope sparked on his face despite his attempt to hide it. ¡°What?¡± she asked. ¡°Surprised?¡± she teased. Then, her smile vanished. ¡°Of course, that doesn¡¯t mean that I like it, but as long as you¡¯re not my enemy or doing something that will bring me trouble, I don¡¯t need to know everything about you. So, what do you say to that¡­¡± she said teasingly. ¡°Are you my enemy?¡± His lips pursed as he took a few deep breaths through his nose. ¡°I really don¡¯t want to be.¡± She looked at him for a long moment. Then she started giggling. Her head cocked back as she started laughing, her beautiful voice echoing through his apartment like the cries of an exotic bird. ¡°Now there is an answer I like!¡± she declared. ¡°Very well. I guess I¡¯ve bothered you enough. Thank you for your time, young man,¡± she stated simply as she turned around and, just like that, started walking away. He couldn¡¯t believe his eyes. Through some miracle, he had actually managed to keep Bloodshed hidden and stay alive. But he wasn¡¯t satisfied. An immense, blazing-hot fury bubbled in his gut as she shook, trying not to scream at the top of his lungs. Just as she was about to leave the room, believing she was out of earshot, he whispered under his breath. ¡°You fucking bitch.¡± The room froze. The aura of death returned instantly. Madame stood so still that he would believe she was a statue if he didn¡¯t know otherwise. The room subtly vibrated with the movement of something unseen shifting through the air, and the ether lamp that kept the space illuminated flickered, turning considerably less bright afterward. She turned around, a stony smirk plastered on her tight lips. ¡°You do not have the right to speak to me like that,¡± she said. ¡°Do you understand?¡± It took him a few moments to shake off the momentary paralysis as he frantically nodded. ¡°Good. Don¡¯t let that happen again. If you must vent your frustration, I believe my previous gift shall suffice.¡± She gestured at the shifting mass of flesh sitting in the corner of his kitchen. And with that, she walked out and slammed the door shut. And he, as Madame had suggested, crawled over to the mass of flesh and pummeled it. But his anger didn¡¯t go away. Instead, with every punch he threw¡­ He only felt more pissed off. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. *** Freddy appeared at the gym the next day, only to find Mark with his arm wrapped in bandages. ¡°Whoa, you okay?¡± he asked the young man. Mark looked as if movement pained him, and his skin appeared rather pale, with deep eye bags highlighting a lack of sleep. Mark winced and sighed. ¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± he said. ¡°I was caught off guard during the delve yesterday and got a slash across my forearm,¡± he informed. ¡°Not a big deal. This sort of stuff happens rather often when you delve alone. If anything, I¡¯m surprised I managed to avoid injuries for so long.¡± Given how many scars the young man had lining his body, he was sure that this was little more than a plus one to a long series of scars. Although he didn¡¯t envy Mark¡¯s inability to swiftly recover, he did think that his scars were cool. No matter how tough he got, outwardly, he would always appear smooth as polished marble. That kind of sucked. Throughout that entire training session, Freddy consistently broke his personal records. Not by much, but it was enough to leave Mark clearly impressed. ¡°You¡¯re on a roll today, damn.¡± ¡°I¡¯m feeling it,¡± he said. Feeling deeply frustrated, that was. If he had learned anything yesterday, it was that he was in deep shit. Whoever the Kraven Clan were, they were trouble. Big trouble. If even Madame wasn¡¯t happy to have to deal with them, anything short of moving across the damn empire wouldn¡¯t give him enough peace of mind to sleep at night. The list of things he could do to improve his odds of getting out of this situation alive was short, to say the least. On that day, he had made a decision. He needed money. A lot of money. His head turned to face his trainer as a burning question prickled the top of his tongue. Mark noticed his stare. ¡°You good?¡± he asked. ¡°Yeah¡­ Uhm¡­ Would you be willing to take me along for a delve?¡± he asked. ¡°No,¡± the man shot him down. ¡°But¡ª¡± ¡°There are no buts!¡± Mark shouted, attracting some gazes their way. He calmed down a bit in the next moment. ¡°You have no bloody idea how dangerous delving is,¡± he said. ¡°If anything happened to you, and trust me, it could and would, Madame would kill me.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll try to reason with her,¡± he tried. ¡°Maybe she would let me do it.¡± Mark scoffed at that. ¡°No,¡± he said, biting his lip as a look of profound frustration washed over his face. ¡°That won¡¯t happen.¡± *** Mark headed home with Freddy once they were done since his injury prevented him from training. They headed down the street, and before long, they were back in their building. Freddy turned to Mark. ¡°Hey, do you want to¡ª¡± ¡°No, sorry,¡± the man refused. ¡°I already have lunch prepared.¡± He laughed awkwardly. ¡°Well, that¡¯s not a big deal, right? Just grab the lunch and come over to¡ª¡± ¡°Freddy,¡± Mark interrupted him. ¡°I¡­ I have to deal with a few other things. We¡¯ll have lunch tomorrow or maybe dinner tonight. How does that sound?¡± He nodded at him and patted him on the shoulder. ¡°Okay, chief, you¡¯re the boss. I¡¯ll see you later, man. Rest up.¡± ¡°Okay. Thanks.¡± Mark headed into his apartment and locked the door behind him as soon as he entered. With a shaky hand, he pulled another pill out of his pocket and shoved it into his mouth as he headed to the bathroom. He put his mouth under the faucet, gulped the water down, and swallowed, fighting against his gag reflex as his stomach tried to eject anything that entered it. Taking the bandages off, he winced at the pain but endured. He couldn¡¯t help himself from panicking once he saw the wound. A grisly, deep, inflamed gash spread from the back of his hand to his elbow. The stitches were barely holding together. He poured the disinfectant over the wound again and cleaned it, wincing at the pain as he pinched the red injury and squeezed several tablespoons of pus out. Seeing that made him panic harder, and he wiped it off with a sterile rag, applied more disinfectant, and bandaged his arm back up. It was fine. No, it would be fine. It just had to hurry up and heal. And he had to hurry and return to his work. With deep breaths, he returned to his room and lay in his bed. Sleep did not come easy to him, however. His arm burned. So, so bad. *** Freddy finished his lunch and was getting ready to head to the forest when his door rang. It was Matt. In his hands was a small box wrapped up like a gift. He raised his eyebrow. ¡°What is this?¡± he asked. ¡°A small present from Madame,¡± the man said, causing his throat to tighten slightly. ¡°I¡­ I see,¡± he said as he held his hand out and received the box. The man also handed him a piece of paper. A cursory glance revealed that it was an invitation. To a party, at that. He glanced at Matt and tried returning the invitation, but the man held a palm up to stop him. ¡°Your participation is mandatory, as per Madame¡¯s request.¡± ¡°Tell her I refuse,¡± he tried, but¡ª ¡°I am not here to negotiate, Mr. Stern. The gathering is on Friday evening. Please be ready to leave at 7:30 at the latest. Have a good day.¡± And with that, he turned around and left. His hand dropped to his side, and he shrugged. ¡°At least I tried.¡± He turned around and headed to the living room. A small part of him was afraid to open the box for fear of it being something dangerous, but it wasn¡¯t like Madame needed to use underhanded methods to harm him. He pulled the numerous hatches open and peeled the seal off. The small lid was flipped open, revealing a tiny, thoroughly wrapped-up piece of meat. There was a small piece of paper detailing a rudimentary recipe for its preparation. Apparently, most he was allowed to do with it was put a light sear on it, and even that ¡°reduced the meat¡¯s efficacy.¡± He couldn¡¯t be bothered to do that, so he ate it raw. A small part of him was still afraid that it was laced with something like a truth serum or some other bullshit, so before digging in, he prepared the knife and approached the flesh blob, readying himself to start stabbing the instant he felt something was off. He peeled the plastic off and gingerly grabbed the tender piece with his fingers. As his teeth reached the fleshy substance, he bit, eating a small chunk of it. Immediately, the knife fell out of his hands. The next beat of his heart was like a gong being struck by a meteorite, and before long, he was violently shoving the treasure down his throat. A soothing yet ravenous power flooded his body, seeping into his soul and nourishing his bones. His ether star instantly jumped from 32% to 47% capacity, drastically increasing his overall essence reserves. ¡°What the fuck was that!?¡± Apparently, she was more aware of how much of a bitch she was yesterday than he presumed. Hell, if he could expect gifts such as this one, he¡¯d offer himself up for another beatdown without hesitation. He licked the fingers he grabbed the meat with, and even that sent a pulse of power into his body. He even licked the plastic wrapping. The emptiness of the box suddenly felt heavy, and upon realizing that there was none left, he felt almost as disappointed as when he woke up to find his adoptive parents gone. His state was so strange that he had to stab the flesh blob a few times to ensure he hadn¡¯t been drugged. Well. At least she knew how to apologize. Although he hated to admit it, as he knew that was what she was aiming for, he couldn¡¯t help but feel less hatred toward her. Sighing, he got up. It was time for his martial arts training. *** Freddy was bewildered at how drastic the increase in his essence reserves was. And it wasn¡¯t just a matter of overall capacity. His Essence Extraction soul construct¡¯s power slowed down the closer his reserves were too full. This was a matter of percentage, meaning that with the 50 percent increase to his capacity, the speed at which he recovered had nearly, but not quite, also increased by 50 percent. Given the means and more than enough motivation, on that day, he truly pushed himself. Sweat beads rolled down his glistening body as he punched the tree over and over. And finally, after God knew how many punches¡­ The tree finally fell down. *** Freddy returned to his apartment later in the day, and the first thing he did was knock on Mark¡¯s door. He rang the bell, too, but the young man wasn¡¯t answering. Probably isn¡¯t home, he concluded, feeling slightly betrayed. He went into his apartment and walked over to the kitchen. After dinner, he pretended to nap on the table while his projection crawled out to visit his favorite skeleton. ¡°My liege,¡± Bloodshed greeted him as it bowed. ¡°Do you require my servitude?¡± ¡°As a matter of fact, I do, my loyal minion!¡± he declared dramatically. Back when Bloodshed suddenly appeared, he overlooked an important detail¡ªhow did it know where he was? So, he proceeded to ask it precisely that. ¡°Tell me, Bloodshed. How can you tell where I am?¡± ¡°It is simple, my lord,¡± Bloodshed answered. ¡°No matter how far you are, I can sense the true direction I must take to reach you. For that is the only path that lies ahead of me.¡± He would cock an eyebrow at that if his projection had any. ¡°Do you think that would work, let¡¯s say, if I entered a passage?¡± ¡°That is irrelevant,¡± Bloodshed declared without hesitation. ¡°Distance and realm are no barrier to my loyalty.¡± Even if they didn¡¯t know the answer, personified ether constructs couldn¡¯t say something untrue. Which meant that it could track him down even if he was somewhere in the interspace. While that was actually pretty damn terrifying, it also revealed a possibility to him. ¡°Say, Bloodshed,¡± Freddy started. ¡°Can you keep track of time?¡± ¡°I can always tell when a day has come and gone.¡± ¡°Can you count to seven hundred?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Freddy wondered if the inside of the shadowy hood covering his head had revealed an outline of the shit-eating grin he flashed at that moment. He didn¡¯t have a way to reliably hide Bloodshed. As it stood, the only reason it hadn¡¯t been discovered was probably because Madame and Matt didn¡¯t consider the possibility that a goddamn plastic bag could capture a remnant. This meant that he was on a timer. Either he found a way to hide Bloodshed before the six months were up, or he would lose it. There was no way to get an ability to tier two in such a short time, meaning that he had to keep Bloodshed hidden. Either way, if given the ability to consume it, he didn¡¯t want to do so. It was Bloodshed, after all. It was his loyal minion. What kind of cruel master would devour his own subject? His reasoning definitely didn¡¯t have anything to do with the fact that Bloodshed could evolve into an eidolon. It also had nothing to do with the fact that a loyal eidolon servant was likely the best ally anyone could possibly ask for. Nope. Definitely had nothing to do with that. Fantasies of possible futures weren¡¯t his priority now, however. What he needed the most was to find a way to keep the remnant hidden. And with what he had just learned, he was confident that he knew the perfect method to do so. Chapter 24 - Party Freddy crawled out of bed. Despite his perfect health, he felt horrible. Although it couldn¡¯t catch up to him physiologically, stress seemed to still leave a psychological mark on him. Where the line between ¡°brain damage¡± and ¡°mental instability¡± was, he didn¡¯t know, but it was becoming increasingly clear that his talent wasn¡¯t omnipotent. He washed himself up, had breakfast, and proceeded to a particular drawer. Given how little shopping he did, there was practically no garbage to deal with. But, when a bit of trash did show up, all he had to do was throw it down a small hatch in his kitchen. Thus, without any ceremony, he threw a wrapped plastic bag into the hatch and turned around without care¡ªas if he didn¡¯t just throw away the single most valuable thing he owned. He had instructed Bloodshed to wait until the trash reached the dump yard and then continue waiting, never leaving its bag for any reason until roughly two years passed. The reason why he picked two years was somewhat arbitrary. He first landed on that number because it seemed the safest, but then contemplated whether a year would be safe enough or if he should make it five or ten years. But it didn¡¯t make much difference. Owning Bloodshed had put a target on his back¡ªand the best way to remove it? Convince his pursuers that he genuinely didn¡¯t have it. Naturally, not being in the immediate possession of the construct was the logical first step. Step two, though? He had just over three months to think of it. He walked over to the tablet and ordered himself an extra-large cappuccino. There was no reason to watch his health, so he didn¡¯t have to deny himself. And he needed something for his morning headaches. It arrived quickly, and he sat on the couch in his living room, sipping the coffee and contemplating his plans. For the time being, he would mooch off Madame while he was still valuable to her. As for what he would do about the trouble he was in, well, he had a few ideas. As long as he had 1% Lifesteal and Essence Extraction, he had all he needed to succeed as an independent arch. With his talent, he wouldn¡¯t age either, so he could afford to take as long as he needed to let the dust settle. If there was any one word that described him best, it was bitter; endlessly bitter at how unfair the world was and how willing those in power were to abuse it. He yearned to go back to being an utterly unaffiliated nobody. He couldn¡¯t help but chuckle as a ridiculous thought brushed through his mind. What if I faked my own death? Truly, this whole thing was driving him insane. He finished the last sip of his drink, downing it with gusto, and got up. It was time to go to the gym. *** The next day, the day of the party he was invited to, Freddy finished his workout and headed home with Mark by his side. ¡°You sure your arm¡¯s fine?¡± he asked for the twentieth time that day. ¡°I already told you that I¡¯m fine,¡± Mark spat with undisguised frustration. ¡°Ah¡­ aight.¡± he walked on silently for a while, but eventually, he added, ¡°I can smell it from here, you know.¡± Mark¡¯s legs froze, and he stopped. He turned to face him. ¡°You okay?¡± ¡°Yeah¡­ just¡­ I¡¯m just feeling a little tired.¡± Freddy paused for a while before nodding. ¡°I get it. I¡¯ll stop asking.¡± ¡°Y-Yeah. Thanks.¡± They walked on in silence, and this time, before he could even invite the man for lunch, Mark slammed the door to his apartment shut. *** Freddy returned early from his training in the woods, and as soon as he entered his bedroom, he noticed something strange. There was a brand-new rack of clothing right in the middle of his bedroom. He stepped before it, examining several pieces of clothing. With each new article he picked up, his frown deepened. ¡°Fuck no, I ain¡¯t wearing that.¡± Ridiculous combinations of colors, black leather with holes in highly revealing places, what amounted to basically just string covering barely anything, and more perverted, gross, rich people stuff. For a moment, the idea of faking his death sounded real good. He did not want to go to this party. The more he stared at this pile of sin, the more willing he was to do anything to get out of whatever gathering these clothes were appropriate for. Or was this just a bad joke by Madame? Maybe she was hoping that he would pull up in something absurd. With a deep sigh, he picked the most ordinary items he could find. They were an ultra-slim-fit white shirt and black pants that appeared mostly normal but were made of exquisitely soft material. There were a couple of glass boxes of jewelry, and he did his best to pretend that the do-it-yourself piercing kit wasn¡¯t there as he contemplated his options. The jewelry, while not super-high-end, was definitely quite pricey. He picked a watch, an annoyingly thick gold necklace that screamed ¡°I¡¯m an arrogant bastard¡± and a small, elegant platinum ring. The first order of business was taking a shower, and once done, he put everything on and got a good look at himself in the mirror. It was hard to say that he was beautiful, but it was impossible to deny that he was handsome. His tanned skin was so smooth that he could see the light reflected off it, his hair was healthy and thick, his eyes clear, his teeth perfectly aligned, and most importantly, his utterly hairless jaw was chiseled to perfection. That wasn¡¯t even touching on his body, which, in the super tight shirt, showed the complete outline of his impressive physique, even allowing faint lines of his thick veins to shine through. Oh yeah, he thought, smirking arrogantly, I wonder if Matt is gonna watch if I bring someone over tonight. Speaking of Matt, the man didn¡¯t take long to show up. ¡°I see you¡¯re already prepared to leave,¡± the assistant said. With a fat grin, he answered, ¡°I see you¡¯ve been keeping an eye on me.¡± Then, with a sly chuckle and a pat on Matt¡¯s shoulder, he walked out of the apartment and followed the man¡¯s lead. Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. *** Mark punched his father. It wasn¡¯t even close to full force, but a punch from the young man, even half-hearted, sent the man tumbling to the ground. His mother screamed, and his sister cried hysterically. His eyes were bloodshot, and he stared at his father on the ground, teeth bared. ¡°Don¡¯t you fucking dare,¡± he spat venomously. ¡°Stop! Just stop!¡± his sister screamed. ¡°You have to get treat¡ª¡± Her words were cut off as he raised his healthy hand at her for a moment but quickly restrained himself. He tried reaching down for her, but she was already backing away. He didn¡¯t let her get far as he grabbed her arm and spoke to her, ¡°Listen to me, Sarah. I won¡¯t have it. You¡¯re going to the academy,¡± he said, mania in his expression. ¡°Son, please calm down,¡± his father said, getting off the floor with a massive bruise on his face. ¡°You don¡¯t have to do this!¡± ¡°Shut up!¡± he yelled. ¡°Shut¡­ the fuck up¡­ I¡¯m not having it. If you cancel her admission, I swear to God I won¡¯t have anything to do with any of you again. I¡¯m going to disown you.¡± ¡°Please¡­¡± Sarah cried. His mother strode forward carefully, biting her lip as he swallowed the lump in her throat and said bitterly, ¡°But you¡¯re going to lose it¡­¡± ¡°So what?¡± he spat. ¡°You think using the money for the scholarship to pay for my treatment is a good idea?¡± he continued, tearing up and taking a few steps back. ¡°I¡¯ll solve the issue of my arm eventually. If she misses it now, she¡¯ll never get to go to the academy.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t care!¡± Sarah yelled. ¡°I don¡¯t want to go to the stupid academy!¡± Mark tried smiling, but it just looked like a scowl. Determined, he walked over to the door and left the apartment. ¡°You don¡¯t have a choice. I¡¯m going to have it amputated immediately.¡± He slammed the door shut as he walked outside, leaving nothing but silence and sobbing behind. *** Freddy¡¯s default reaction to seeing new things was a wide-eyed mouth drop and an internal dialogue about how absurd it was. This time, things were different. As he walked into the seizure-inducing ¡°club,¡± one filled to the brim with flashing lights, smoke, which, once inhaled, actually served to recover some essence in his ether star, thunderous, horrid music, and a myriad of colors, be it the floor tiles, furniture, ceiling, or the people around him, the only thing that went through his mind was, I literally can¡¯t see shit. This place was more akin to a war zone than a party. No matter where he stood, he could barely see a couple of feet in any direction, and with the tight crowds, blaring noise, and more than one puff of smoke that stirred funny feelings in his gut, he felt thoroughly disoriented. He didn¡¯t know whether this was just a particular breed of rich bastard, but if he ever found himself among the wealthy, he vowed to join the crowd who preferred old-timey tea parties over brain-rot raves like this one. Matt stood ahead of him and asked one of the waiters a few questions. Neither of the two men were yelling or leaning closer, marking the impressive hearing of¡ª Wait. Was the waiter a two-star arch!? What the hell kind of service¡­? It didn¡¯t take long for Matt to nod to the waiter and wave at him to follow him. After a short but gruesome trek through the suffocating mass of bodies, he was plopped down at a small private section, seated on a round couch facing a fancy table. At first, he was by himself, but it didn¡¯t take long for others to be brought to sit beside him. The vast majority of people sitting there were complete strangers, but to his surprise, he recognized a man who sat next to him. It was a face that made him panic a little as he recalled unwanted memories, but he restrained those feelings as he waved at the handsome individual and greeted him, ¡°Hey! Remember me?¡± he yelled, but that didn¡¯t seem to be necessary. The man clearly didn¡¯t struggle to hear him. The man said something in what was likely a regular tone of voice but soon realized that Freddy couldn¡¯t hear him, so he leaned in and yelled a bit, ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but I don¡¯t recall ever seeing you before.¡± He was about to yell back but restrained his voice as he realized the man didn¡¯t need to strain to hear him. ¡°You¡¯re the spear user that saved my life during the break!¡± The man frowned at that. ¡°You¡¯ll have to be a bit more specific than that!¡± ¡°I¡¯m the first person you saved!¡± The man raised an eyebrow. ¡°I doubt that. The first person I saved was one of the victims.¡± ¡°Yeah!¡± Freddy confirmed, grinning. ¡°That was me!¡± ¡°What!?¡± The man seemed incredulous. ¡°No, it was this skinny boy who¡ª¡± ¡°Yeah! That was me!¡± he repeated himself. The man gave him a once over, mouth agape. ¡°You must be joking!¡± He chuckled a bit. ¡°What the hell kind of magical potion did you drink!?¡± He cackled merrily at that one. ¡°Oh, you don¡¯t even want to know!¡± Soon, the drinks arrived, and the man introduced himself, ¡°My name is John, by the way!¡± ¡°Nice to meet you. My name is Freddy!¡± The man looked over and grinned at him as he pointed subtly with his thumb. Freddy turned around, spotting a group of four girls who sat on the other side of the table, waving at the two men invitingly and patting empty spots beside them. *** Mark had rushed out of his apartment, fully determined to head to the closest hospital and have his arm cut off. But it didn¡¯t take long for his steps to wane and his will to crumble. Hiding on a small bench tucked behind a few trees on the island, he sobbed hysterically, unable to hold back the tears. It burned so badly. And he could feel the pain slowly moving up. It just didn¡¯t feel real. How was it even possible to fall so low in such a short time? It felt like he stood with his teammates just yesterday, one among the elite, a trailblazer of the next generation of archs that would take humanity to new heights. Sobbing on that bench, he felt like little more than an empty shell of the person he once was. He shouldn¡¯t have delved so much. His efforts had been putting his family back on track, but pure hubris led him to this situation. Even if they would have dragged him down, he should have found a new team. Even if that would make his profits dwindle, he should have taken a more extensive break between expeditions. And now¡­ What rotted his arm wasn¡¯t an ordinary infection. He had gotten struck by a death-attuned ability, a claw swing of a deviant ravager raptor. Those creatures were usually of the blood affinity, and deviant members of their race were exceptionally rare. He got too careless. Rather than get out of the way, he tried to defend against the deviant¡¯s attack¡ªa strike he would have realized needed to be dodged had he not been so tired. The death-affinity essence had invaded his bones. Removing the infection would take a high-level holy-affinity spell, and actually fixing the damage could require as long as three months of daily healing. Perhaps if he wasn¡¯t so useless, he could join an organization and have them pay for the treatment as an advance payment for his services. But he had tried. Nobody wanted him. He had tried requesting it from Madame, too. She also said no. Mark was still a one-star arch. Ascending was serious business, and before one went up, it was wise to first achieve the full potential of their rank. Rare events caused bursts of ether, and incredible feats accomplished the same thing but deep within one¡¯s soul. The quality of one¡¯s talent evolution depended on how much they achieved at their current rank. He had already done a lot, but not enough to evolve his mediocre talent into an incredible one. Postponing his ascension to the second star was another greedy, selfish act that brought him to this situation. He should have put the thoughts of stardom to rest as soon as he dropped out of the academy. He should have just ascended. He should have rested, he should have found teammates, he should have¡ªhe should have never taken this job. The weight of his sins and the height of his despair brought him up to his feet. Absent-mindedly, he walked forward, soon reaching the edge of the island. It was a long way down to the ground. And the thought of taking the leap felt way too natural. He wasn¡¯t cowardly enough to do it, though. But having the option felt¡­ It felt just a bit comforting. In the corner of his vision, he spotted someone appear. It didn¡¯t take him long to recognize the man¡ªthe same person who got him into this situation¡ªthe ¡°slimy journalist.¡± That persona was nowhere to be seen this time around, however. He was well-dressed, standing confidently, gazing at the city below as if it truly belonged under his feet. Rage flooded Mark¡¯s body, but he knew that he stood no chance against this person. And other than that¡­ he couldn¡¯t bring himself to speak. The man turned to face him. ¡°You just have to answer one question, Mr. Afronte.¡± Mark didn¡¯t respond, his breath speeding up and his heart raging wildly. He bit his lip. Fuck off, he wanted to say. Get out of my sight! he wanted to shout. But his arm hurt. The bone-piercing cold of death seeped deeper, claiming a more significant chunk of his arm with each moment it went untreated. ¡°What do you want to know?¡± he finally said. The man smiled widely. ¡°Does Freddy Stern, to your knowledge, possess a blood-affinity remnant?¡± Chapter 25 - Afterparty Freddy had lived his life believing that, for men, looks were utterly irrelevant. Ultimately, the number on the bank statement, status, and owned property mattered the most. However, as he, a relatively poor, low-status man, sat surrounded by women who were, by how they spoke, definitely from wealthy families, he was forced to update his worldview ever so slightly. No matter how many fuck-ups he made, his looks seemed to be enough to give him a free pass. Even after he said awfully cringy stuff, some of which had caused him to physically recoil, they simply giggled it away and changed the subject. Recently, he had grown aware that he had become drastically more handsome, even if he wasn¡¯t all that pretty face-wise. But as the night went on, he realized he had underestimated himself. A lot. Whatever these girls wanted, he had it, and no matter how hard he tried to repel them with his aura of virginity, they were going to get it. The anxiety gave him itchy hands, and he reached for a drink every so often to take the edge off. As one drink after another went down his throat, it didn¡¯t take long for all the liquid to force a visit to the toilet. John, who was also busy doing his thing, did his best to explain how to find it, but¡­ it wouldn¡¯t be easy. Freddy excused himself and got up, shoving his way through the crowd as he went on the mission. Pushing past the mass of people was damn tricky, and his size, as well as the alcohol coursing through his veins, didn¡¯t make it any easier, but he seemed to be making progress¡ª Until a sudden, powerful strike to the back of his head made the entire world go dark. *** Mark returned home only to find his family there, surprised that he had returned so soon. They seemed relieved to see his arm still attached to his body and tried comforting him, but he barely heard anything they said. Their voices sounded like they were coming from behind a closed door, and the sound of distant ringing muffled them further. He pushed past them, walked to his room, went inside, and locked the door behind him. The large bedroom echoed with the locking of his door, and he walked over to the bed. Soon, the blankets were wrapped tight around him, and he sweated profusely, unable to pull his head out of the covers. The endless pounding of his heart was the only thing he could hear as the mountainous weight of his sin settled on his back. ¡°Oh, God¡­¡± he spat, clasping his mouth shut as his eyes shot open and a profound desire to vomit raged in his gut. He shook and shivered, his teeth clattering as the ringing got louder. ¡°What have I done?¡± *** Matt Canstone appeared in the private booth where Madame was seated. The guests were already dispersing as Madame held her ear to a contact crystal, listening to a message. ¡°Madame¡ª¡± he said, but she interrupted him. ¡°When?¡± she asked curtly. ¡°Ten minutes ago,¡± the man answered. ¡°He went to the toilet but disappeared among the crowds. None of the guards spotted him leaving the premises.¡± She scowled. ¡°I just got news of several men breaking into the apartment we provided him with. They flipped the whole place upside down and even went through the woods he exercised in.¡± Matt pondered it for a moment. ¡°I believe they¡ª¡± ¡°They shouldn¡¯t have any proof,¡± she spat as she bit her nails. ¡°I couldn¡¯t find any evidence myself, and we¡¯ve been watching over him for¡ª¡± Suddenly, her eyes shot wide open as she remembered something. Her jaw clenched, and she bit her nail clean off. ¡°So that¡¯s what he told his trainer¡­¡± Matt stood silently, keeping his posture straight and waiting. Soon enough, she pulled a communication crystal out of her storage device and selected one of the contacts. The crystal buzzed briefly until a cheerful voice rang through it. ¡°Madame! Dear! To what do I owe the pleasure?¡± ¡°Hello, Harold. I have some news that might interest you.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± the man said. ¡°What happened?¡± ¡°Freddy Stern was taken.¡± A few moments of silence elapsed until a sigh came through the crystal. ¡°Let me guess, Kraven?¡± ¡°Indeed,¡± she confirmed. ¡°They seem to be rather confident that he has something they want.¡± Her jaw clenched even harder. ¡°Didn¡¯t you say you already took measures to prevent them from overreaching?¡± ¡°I did!¡± he said. ¡°This is as much of a surprise to me as it is to you!¡± She gritted her teeth hard enough that they creaked, but she forced herself to relax. ¡°Well, then. Am I allowed to surmise that you¡¯re in the mood to uphold the law?¡± ¡°Well,¡± he started, ¡°I suppose I don¡¯t really have a choice.¡± ¡°How¡¯s five minutes from now sound?¡± she asked. ¡°Meet you at their premises!¡± And with that, he hung up. Madame gripped the crystal so tightly that it shattered, and she looked up at her assistant. ¡°We are leaving immediately.¡± She left her seat and rushed toward the nearest window, showcasing superhuman speed. She opened the window and jumped out. Matt seemingly disappeared behind her as he shifted into the darkness of the night, moving across the buildings. On the other hand, she morphed her arms into gigantic wings and took flight, soaring above the city as she beelined straight toward the headquarters of the Kraven Clan. *** ¡°Go to the planned location and wait for the next two hours,¡± Janhalar said to one of his disciples, a young woman. ¡°In that time, the outcome will be decided.¡± She nodded, and with that, she ran off. The entire Kraven Clan was in an uproar. Alarms were blaring, members were rushing deeper into the safety of the underground bunker, and all of their operations were grinding to a halt as they contacted all members outside the premises. Three elders stepped up and knelt before the patriarch. A tall, lithe woman and two men, one bulky and young in appearance, the other elderly and frail. All of them were hardened warriors of the Kraven Clan, wearing the signature clothing and tattoos of elite members. These would be the elders who would fight beside him. All three of them were specialized for close-quarters combat. They were neither the strongest nor the most important members of their clan, but they were all he was allowed to take. Conflict between Lords was commonplace, as was only natural. But the empress would have them slaughtered like pigs if they waged all-out wars and collapsed entire cities in disputes. He didn¡¯t like his odds with just them by his side, but he hadn¡¯t come without a plan, either. While he loathed to use it, he had an ace up his sleeve that would ensure he got his way, even though it would come at great cost to his clan¡¯s operations. Even then, it would be well worth it if he could get his hands on the remnant. In less than a few minutes, the premises were deathly quiet. A slight tremor shook the ground beneath him as if on cue, and the echoes of their front gate landing in the middle of the courtyard followed soon after. ¡°Do not fear your destiny,¡± he told his elders as he turned to face them. ¡°We are facing Basilisk and the Scorched Fleshmancer. ¡°Prepare yourselves to die.¡± *** ¡°You arrived faster than I expected, Madame!¡± Basilisk greeted Madame cheerfully in his standard disarming tone. They found themselves right in front of the entrance to the Kraven compound. A large, metallic gate barred entry into it, dyed partly red in the shape of a silhouette of the mythical ¡°vampire,¡± a creature taking the form of a poshly dressed man wearing an extravagant cloak. A wall of red-tinged stone surrounded the entire area. It would be trivial for either of them to jump over the barrier, but she thought it would be best to send a message. Without a response to Basilisk¡¯s greeting, she kicked the metallic gate. Although it was more of a decoration than a proper defensive barrier, the fact that she could send the several-ton-heavy gate flying as if it were made of Styrofoam made even Harold gulp. In a matter of seconds, followed by an entourage of three powerful three-star archs, the patriarch appeared. His pale skin highlighted the numerous red lines marking his face. ¡°Basilisk, Scorched Fleshmancer,¡± he greeted them. ¡°Welcome.¡± Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. Madame scoffed. ¡°Refrain from using that infantile monicker when addressing me, Bloodlord.¡± ¡°I would prefer you used my true name as well, Narcisse,¡± he shot back. ¡°So,¡± Basilisk butted in, ¡°you should already know why we¡¯re here. Hand the young man over and pay a fine of¡ª¡± ¡°You lied to me, bastard,¡± the patriarch said. ¡°Don¡¯t think I will forget that.¡± ¡°Okay, first of all¡ª¡± Harold started, but before he could get far, Madame raised her hand and interrupted him. ¡°What did he lie to you about?¡± The patriarch sneered. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t you like to know?¡± Madame frowned for a fraction of a second. The bloody arch scoffed. ¡°You have become rusty, Narcisse,¡± he jabbed. ¡°Okay!¡± Basilisk loudly interrupted them, stepping in between them. ¡°None of this is relevant to the problem at hand. Janhalar, I was rather clear when I gave you the warning. Besides, kidnapping? Do you know the kind of disaster your transgression will cause if it becomes public knowledge? You can¡¯t just do whatever you want.¡± Janhalar clenched his fist with his right hand and lifted two fingers on his left. In response to his gesture, the three elders behind him moved in front, readying themselves for battle. ¡°I promise you,¡± Harold threatened, ¡°going through with this is a bad idea.¡± He shot a quick glance at the fuming woman beside him. Despite an involuntary wince betraying that he was well aware of the danger, Janhalar steeled himself. ¡°You know damn well it¡¯s worth it for what¡¯s at stake¡ª¡± His words were interrupted as the lithe woman standing to his side barely blocked a spike of bone-like material as it was about to penetrate his eye. She did so with her unprotected hand and now couldn¡¯t take the bolt out, no matter how hard she pulled. Madame¡¯s arm had morphed, moving her bones in a configuration that created an improvised crossbow, with her tendon acting as a string and a shard of her bone as the projectile. A bead of sweat dripped down Janhalar¡¯s neck. All three elders pulled out curved twin daggers, with the woman only managing to hold one due to her injury. Basilisk shook his head, preparing himself to fight. The atmosphere around them grew tense. All six of the people present were poised to strike, and soon enough, the needle dropped. The ground beneath the Kraven fighters¡¯ feet morphed into stone serpents, but it wasn¡¯t long until they were dashing out of the way, clearly prepared to face such tactics. The bodies of all three elders turned red, with the tell-tale bulging veins appearing along the surface of their skin as they all triggered Blood Rush. With a loud twang, several more bolts of bone came rushing at them, and while they managed to block most of them, the bulky elder received one of the projectiles directly to his left rib, groaning with pain. Janhalar¡¯s pores seeped out blood, and it wasn¡¯t long until it coagulated into a full-body armor surrounding him and javelins that he threw with intimidating speed at his opponents. Basilisk¡¯s skin was soon covered in stone scales to help him defend himself from the incoming projectiles, but Madame seemingly had no issue dodging the overbearing barrage, and even while avoiding it, she managed to push forward, making her way to the elder, who received a bolt to the ribs. His gait was uncertain, and it wouldn¡¯t take much for Madame to catch up with him. The tall, lithe woman whose hand had been pierced reacted immediately and rushed to her comrade¡¯s help, but the soil beneath her shifted. A gigantic head of a snake appeared below her, its jaws spread wide and ready to bite down on her body. Reacting instantly, she jumped, but that wouldn¡¯t be enough to avoid a four-star arch¡¯s attack while already caught in it. The serpent¡¯s jaws slammed shut, and the woman¡¯s legs were cleaved clean off, just slightly below the knees. She tried to scream, but it took only a moment for Madame to reach her. Her hand injured and her legs gone, the elder lifted a dagger, her body raging with the intense pulsing of her heart, but that meager defense went thoroughly ignored as Madame slammed sharp claws directly into her torso. Just as the woman¡¯s soul abandoned her body, a pulse was sent in its stead. With loud snaps and the sound of flesh stretching to the breaking point, the woman¡¯s body morphed into a freakish biomass roughly in the shape of a monster with two bulky arms. Using its unwieldy limbs, the creature shambled toward the patriarch. An angry snarl escaped Janhalar¡¯s lips as he repelled a stone serpent head with a giant spear, but it was caught in his throat as Madame picked up the abomination she had created the way a little girl picked up her doll and threw it with such speed that he could barely raise a defense. ¡°Patriarch!¡± the skinny old man yelled, and the mass of flesh began to glow. ¡°Crap!¡± Janhalar yelled as he moved his arms before him to block; just in time as the corpse grew bright hot and violently exploded, sending charred flesh and guts everywhere, knocking the patriarch back and overloading his Coagulated Blood Armor, causing his defenses to dissipate. Madame immediately used the opening to rush at the injured, bulky elder, and Janhalar used Blood Rush to boost his speed and try to stop her, but after taking a single step forward, another massive serpent appeared, this one slamming his body directly and sending him tumbling. The injured man was reached, but he wasn¡¯t going down without a fight. Several bloody spikes thrown by the patriarch whizzed through the air past Madame¡¯s head, dodged with delicate grace, but her movement created an opening. The elder stabbed his twin daggers at Madame¡¯s body and somehow miraculously reached his target, sinking the weapons into her flesh. The shadow of a grin appeared on his face, but it vanished as he realized there was no blood. Her tissue simply moved out of the way to allow the blades to enter her body, and her claws tore another heart out as the elder joined his comrade in turning into a monstrosity. ¡°Patriarch¡¯s Domain!¡± Janhalar yelled. The air shifted. Janhalar¡¯s body suddenly exploded in a shower of blood, but it didn¡¯t simply splash to the ground. The crimson liquid began floating and spinning around the people present, rapidly expanding its radius and multiplying in volume every second. A raging typhoon soon enveloped all the combatants, and Basilisk, despite his best attempts, couldn¡¯t get out of the range in time. The thick, oozing blood coated Madame and Basilisk, drastically restraining their movements and attempting to invade their bodies as it turned into freaky red maggots trying to bite through their skin. Since the moment the ability was used, however, Madame hadn¡¯t moved an inch. And now, she lifted her hand into the air as she uttered, ¡°Vigor Flame.¡± Upon contact with her hand, the blood ignited. At first, the flame was a few scarce sparks being washed away by the raging tornado of blood, but those sparks spread like wildfire, igniting the mighty life force within the blood, soon turning the entire area into a raging inferno. Janhalar screamed as he canceled the ability, and he barely scraped enough blood to return to his body without having to be left entirely drained. ¡°Ouroboros,¡± said Basilisk, and the soil around Janhalar¡¯s body morphed into another snake. It surrounded his body, devouring its tail and constraining it until the mighty patriarch could no longer move. ¡°All right!¡± screamed Janhalar, clearly ready to surrender. ¡°I will sell 40 percent!¡± Madame frowned. ¡°Sixty percent,¡± responded Basilisk. ¡°I¡ª¡± Morleppe rushed forth before the patriarch could continue, dragging the fleshy abomination along. The elderly man that had been pushed aside clearly didn¡¯t dare step in her way, as he had seen what happened to the other two, so it didn¡¯t take long for her to get dangerously close. ¡°I accept!¡± Janhalar agreed, and Basilisk raised a wall of stone snakes to stop Madame from getting any closer. She screamed as she slammed the mass of meat into the barrier with a nasty crunch, and gore splattered all over the men on the other side. ¡°What the hell is this!?¡± she screamed. ¡°Basilisk, you piece of¡ª¡± ¡°Just hear me out, okay?¡± he said, raising his arms to placate her, but that seemed to be doing anything but. ¡°Look, Janhalar¡¯s clan has a mining business under their wing.¡± Her expression turned cold as she realized what this was about. ¡°You treacherous pig,¡± she said. ¡°Well, I wouldn¡¯t really call myself a pig,¡± he joked. ¡°All right,¡± she said. ¡°Now that he is restrained, I¡¯ll get the young man myself.¡± The snakes on the wall hissed at her as they shifted and got in her way again. Her head slowly turned to face the man, and he jumped back in mock fright at her crazed gaze. ¡°I have to be there for my business partners, you know,¡± he justified. ¡°It¡¯s a matter of reputation.¡± The Ouroboros that still held Janhalar tightly restrained crumbled into dust, and the man shook it off his robes as he moved to the side. ¡°Look,¡± Basilisk said, ¡°I get it. You probably feel rather miffed, but think of the bigger picture! I¡¯m sure we can make a deal. How¡¯s 10 percent of my shares sound?¡± Madame clenched her teeth so hard that they began cracking one after another, emitting a sound that resembled chewing on gravel. Until it abruptly stopped. ¡°I will remember this,¡± was all she said as she turned around and began walking away. ¡°I¡¯ll give you 20,¡± he tried. She snapped her finger in response, and Matt Canstone moved through the shadows, beheading the last living elder and vanishing before Janhalar could retaliate. ¡°Well, shit,¡± was all the city lord could muster as he stared at Madame¡¯s back. Janhalar glowered at him momentarily before scoffing and turning around, walking away with an evident limp in his gait. *** Freddy suddenly felt cold as a splash of water hit his naked body. Panicked, he rushed to get up, but his head hurt so bad that he could barely think straight. The dizziness and disorientation hit him immediately, and he found himself puking the alcohol he had drunk that night. ¡°Get up!¡± a coarse voice yelled, and soon, a kick followed directly into his stomach. Someone gripped his hair and lifted his entire body off the ground. He could hear snickering all around him. Another bucket of water was spilled over his head, but that wasn¡¯t enough to undo the intense trauma his head had suffered. ¡°This bastard is so soft,¡± another voice said, clear and manly, and a moment later, a punch landed on his stomach, and the hand gripping his head slammed it into the wall, worsening the nausea. ¡°Hey, Jared!¡± a third voice said, this time slightly nasal. ¡°Heal him.¡± Moments later, a soft, warm touch pulsed through the top of Freddy¡¯s head, and he could finally comprehend what was happening. ¡°What the fuck!?¡± he screamed as he reflexively threw Flowing Strike with his leg, kicking at the man before him. His leg landed on the man¡¯s ribs, and his target buckled as a loud groan escaped his lips. Finally taking a moment to look around, his gaze scouted the room. There wasn¡¯t much to see. It looked like an abandoned construction project made of brute concrete with numerous pieces and bits of rusty metal lying around. The only way out seemed to be through a firmly shut metal door. ¡°You! You bastard!¡± the same coarse voice came from the person who had been manhandling him until a moment ago. He looked at the man, but it was hard to focus his sight. As he did, however, he felt his butthole clench. The first thing he spotted were the vibrant red tattoos. The man was still bent over, but it didn¡¯t take him long to get up to his feet, standing head and shoulders taller than himself, burly and bald. The other three were also without any hair, all tattooed in red from the top of their shiny scalps to the bottom of their feet. Without thinking, Freddy swung another kick at the giant man¡¯s leg, but the man caught his foot easily and threw him at a wall behind them as if he weighed nothing. Freddy slammed the wall back first, and all the air in his lungs was pushed out as he fell to the ground, too winded to breathe. Still not a big fan of being thrown at walls, was all his panicked mind could muster as he tried to think of anything. ¡°This fucker kicks like a truck,¡± the big man said, and the other three laughed at him. Oh, I¡¯m so fucking screwed. Suddenly, the metal door cracked open, and a young woman dressed in red robes entered. Her cheeks were tattooed with thin, red lines, and her eyes held an icy calm that sent shivers down his spine. The four men instantly bowed to the woman as they stepped back. She approached Freddy, and yet again, before he could even see what had happened, he was knocked unconscious. Chapter 26 - Immeasurable Spite Freddy woke up in a place that appeared to be, as he had feared the most, exactly where he had expected to arrive¡ªa sterile, white ceiling, shackles all over his body tying him to a cold block of stone, and an assortment of sharp, terrifying objects at his side, ranging from knives, saws, pliers, cutters¡ª Yup¡­ he confirmed it mentally. Torture chamber. I¡¯m in a torture chamber. While his thoughts seemed calm, he was anything but. Still, he forced himself to settle and focus. As it was, he was alone. That probably wouldn¡¯t remain the case for long, so now it was time to do all the thinking he could¡ªwhile he still had the chance. Had his stomach not been empty, he¡¯d have failed the fight against the urge to throw up. He collected his thoughts and tried to devise at least half a plan. It wasn¡¯t forthcoming as quickly as he would prefer, but it wasn¡¯t surprising given the situation he found himself in. First, these were almost certainly the people who wanted Bloodshed. He couldn¡¯t think of anyone else who would want to do this to him. Second, they were going to¡ª Oh, God¡­ ¡ªtorture him until he told them where it was. Okay. Not good. However, not all hope was lost. First, as long as he refused to share the location of Bloodshed, they wouldn¡¯t kill him, at least. Probably. He didn¡¯t need to fear what they did to him as long as he could make it out alive, as he could heal from any damage his body sustained¡­ even if they put that serrated saw to use and¡­ Yet another jolt of panic rushed down his body, and he started moving involuntarily. He pulled at the shackles and heard the rustling of chains, inciting a claustrophobic feeling that did nothing to ease his nerves. Think, Freddy, focus. As long as he remained alive, there was a chance that he could walk away from here. In the worst-case scenario, he could bargain Bloodshed¡¯s location, and they might keep him alive at least long enough to confirm whether he was telling the truth. Maybe. If they didn¡¯t just go and look for it themselves. Once more, he tugged at the restraints, more desperately this time. He tried using Flowing Strike to add momentum to his flailing, but it was clear there was no use. His breathing was ragged, and he was beginning to hyperventilate as a sickening realization dawned on him. He had no agency here. He had no control over this situation. Even if he tried explaining to his captors that Bloodshed would come to him, there was a snowflake¡¯s chance in hell that they would actually believe him. Even then, they would likely just resort to scouring the dump yard and looking for it. So he had to make a choice. The only option he had. Would he tell them exactly where Bloodshed was, thus instantly becoming disposable, or would he keep quiet, playing the fool as long as it took while praying for a miracle? The mere thought of either option made him sick to the stomach, and before he could think his choices through, he heard the bone-chilling sound of a door, one that was behind his back, thus out of sight, slide open with a metallic screech. Three people walked in, all dressed in the same freaky, red clothes the woman that had knocked him out had worn and donned the same crimson lines on their faces. The first was a man with long white hair and several nasty burn marks across his skin. Judging by the man¡¯s posture and the intense feeling of suppression he felt from him, this was someone in Madame¡¯s weight class. The second was a younger woman who strongly resembled the one who had knocked him out, wearing the same placid expression as the man beside her, her purpose unclear. The third person was a middle-aged-looking man with short, brown hair, a man who had taken to fiddling with the rack of torture tools. ¡°Freddy Stern,¡± the white-haired man said. ¡°I am Janhalar, the patriarch of the Kraven Clan,¡± he introduced himself, his voice calm, cold, and even. ¡°You own a unique remnant that embodies the concept of bloodshed,¡± he stated, and it became instantly apparent that he knew that for a fact. ¡°Tell me where it is.¡± ¡°I¡­¡± he managed limply. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± The white-haired man nodded, and the man standing to his left picked up a pair of steel cutters. His left fist reflexively curled up, but he could not defend himself as the man pried his ring finger open, placed the tool blades around it, and squeezed just a bit, drawing blood. ¡°I will ask you again,¡± said the patriarch. ¡°Where did you hide the unique?¡± He thought long and hard about the question. Losing a finger wasn¡¯t a big deal to him¡ªor so he repeatedly tried convincing himself. His will to hide Bloodshed deteriorated by the second, but he couldn¡¯t tell them. As far as he knew, the only reason they had to keep him alive was to extract that information. So, with a resigned grimace, he repeated, ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± And the cutters pressed down on his finger. First came a sickening crunch that sent a jolt of pain through his hand, and then the severing that triggered a pang of agony up his forearm. It bled profusely, and he instantly turned light-headed. He screamed through gritted teeth, and tears rushed to his eyes. Before he realized it, the man had moved, this time holding his leg and prying his long toe open. Yet again, he denied it. And yet again, the man cut. *** With a haphazard throw, the young woman launched Freddy¡¯s bloody, disheveled body into the tight, solitary confinement cell and locked the large, steel door, leaving him in the darkness. He still vividly felt everything his body had gone through. He was a ring finger, as well as several toes, short; his entire body was scattered with bruises, cuts, needle pricks, and red sores. All his nails had been torn off, and his ear lobe had been nicked, likely to foreshadow losing an entire ear. It was curious, he felt, as he sat on the ground, curled up and whimpering. Even without 1% Lifesteal, they hadn¡¯t done anything genuinely crippling to him yet. That was probably just a part of the show. Make a few nasty threats, show that they¡¯re ready to deliver on them, then have him wait, fully aware that he might lose an eye, an arm, a leg, or a more critical finger. Something anyone, especially those who fought for a living, would fear. He couldn¡¯t help but laugh, although it sounded more like moans than chuckling. Many people wondered what it would be like to go through torture. Many wished to believe they would bear it like badasses and spit in their tormentor¡¯s face, consequences be damned. Although he had been screaming too much to spit at anyone, he had joined the oh-so-exclusive club of people who hadn¡¯t talked, no matter what had been done to him. A small part of him felt a miserable pride¡ªa sad attempt at coping with his situation¡ªbut every other cell in his body was boiling in fury. The man who cut fingers and toes as if he were trimming weeds, the young lady who had likely been whispering recommendations into the patriarch¡¯s ear as he decided on what methods to use, and the patriarch himself. He wanted all of them dead, broken into as many pieces as he could tear them into with his bare hands. He wondered¡ªdid they not know of his talent? Were they unaware that he could heal from anything they did to him? It was only then that he realized. They likely didn¡¯t care. He knew how angry he felt. How betrayed, vengeful, and furious. And they knew, too. Letting him go would only be releasing a potential enemy into the wild. He was dead. This was it. Barring a literal miracle, this was where he would die. If not that day or the day after, then¡­ eventually. The only alternative he could think of was indefinite captivity, and even that seemed rather optimistic. His coughed moans turned to cries and sobs as he asked, ¡°Oh, God¡­ What have I done to deserve this?¡± Where had he committed his first mistake? Was it remaining silent about Bloodshed? Was it when he traded his prime vestige? Was it back when he decided to go through the 26th district? But¡­ No¡­ From the start, the Bastard Barricade, the scam, the mysterious visitor, hell, even Madame. Everyone he came across wanted to exploit him and use him. Mark was the only person he¡¯d met so far who hadn¡¯t sought benefits at his expense. Wasn¡¯t that just what reality was then? Was it really that natural? Had he been living in a jungle, surrounded by predators that need only feel a shred of hunger to devour him alive? He shivered as a patch of his wounded skin made contact with the stone, sending a jolt of pain up his leg. His entire body was sore and aching, and even though he was in a far-from-comfortable position on the floor, moving was too painful to change it. How long had he been behaving like an idiot? Should he have known his position as nothing but prey and thus hid, never lifting his head above the grass? He felt like shit making this realization now. Staying away from society as much as he could have perhaps kept him somewhat safe over the years, but it had also kept him woefully ignorant of some truths that would have helped him not end up in such a situation. His crying yet again flipped to laughing, this time violent and unhinged. Many of the wounds on his body flared up and opened, bleeding again, but he disregarded them as he got up. He walked over to the door, and with all he had, he threw Flowing Strike repeatedly, leaving minor dents in the metal. His rigid arms didn¡¯t break under the stress, already used to such treatment, but the cuts echoed in pain with each blow. Eventually, he exhausted himself, but nobody came. There was no face to bash in, no target to spill his rage on. He had nobody to blame but himself. There was only one final thing he could do¡­ and he knew it. On that day, he had kept quiet. And on that night, he was still alive. It was so pitiable. All he had, all he could rely on, was blind hope. A faint chance of, just maybe, surviving long enough to encounter a miracle. He ignored his sore body as he used the Water Body tempering technique. He felt his condition improve ever so slightly, akin to putting a cold compress on a broken arm. Once he felt satisfied with his state, he used Hundred Wet Hells. The pain was greatly intensified by the roiling rage of water in his body, and he bordered on falling unconscious, only spared when he ran out of essence. But every time he did, he took a quick hop into the Netherecho, reaped a few wisps, of which there were many, most blood-affinity, and continued using the tempering technique. There was no 1% Lifesteal to help him recover from the damage, but his body was accustomed enough to using it that his talent was no longer essential. Throughout the night, he kept pushing himself to the limit, ensuring he spent as long as he could tempering his body. If he wanted to make it through this, he would need every bit of pain tolerance he could build up. The morning eventually came, and a random guard opened the door. As he faced the tattooed man, he felt a lump in the back of his throat. He really didn¡¯t want to go. But he had no choice. *** Bloodshed could roughly feel not only its master¡¯s location but also his condition. And now, for the entirety of the last day, it felt a disturbance. Master was in trouble. Big trouble. As much as Bloodshed wished to rush to his help, it also felt something quite distinct through whatever bond they shared¡ªhe did not want it to come. But why? Was there a reason why Master felt such aversion to Bloodshed¡¯s arrival? Could it be those enemies Master had talked about? Did this mean that¡­ Bloodshed was to blame for Master¡¯s current situation? Could Master not have wanted it to come before, either? If that was the case, then¡­ had Bloodshed committed a grave sin? But it was helpless now. All it could do was wait obediently. But a part of it knew. Master wouldn¡¯t die. It knew it, felt it with every shred of essence that comprised its existence. Master wouldn¡¯t fall until the oceans were dyed red. Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. *** Time passed, and at first, Freddy was dragged out of his cell every single day. By now, he was an ear and many teeth short, and just a couple of hours ago, they had taken his testicles as well. Still, with the overwhelming certainty of death lurking at the back of his mind, he had found just barely enough strength to persevere. Despite convincing himself that 1% Lifesteal could help him recover from anything they did, the instinctual aversion to severe injury and loss of limb was still going strong, and it sure flared up when those cutters sat on the base of his nuts. On the first night, they had thrown him into the cell without much extra precaution, but since then, they restrained him first, likely to ensure that he didn¡¯t kill himself. Why they hadn¡¯t done so the first night, he didn¡¯t know. But he was confident that it was, in one way or another, just another strategy to get him to speak. A full-body straitjacket, a gag to prevent him from biting his tongue off, and restraints that kept him in place. Although they had limited his physical movement, nothing could be done to stop him from using his essence. Occasionally, a guard outside his cell would smash the metallic door, likely to wake him up and keep him tired and vulnerable. It drove him insane. When he did fall asleep, he slept so tightly that not even being set on fire could wake him up. As the days blended into one another, he inevitably grew more used to the agony. Despite the constant escalations of what they did to him, he found his resistance ever-so-slightly outpacing the desire to give it all up. The way they scheduled his torture sessions seemed to be designed to methodically crumple his will away. But it seemed that his plan of building resistance through Hundred Wet Hells threw their calculations out of whack. But boy were the Kraven good at torture. He was impressed by their increasingly inspired methods and techniques. When they concluded that plain ol¡¯ pain wasn¡¯t enough, they moved on to putting parasites into his body, which would eat him from the inside. And, to his delight, ones that died whenever he used Hundred Wet Hells. Even triggered 1% Lifesteal for a short stint. Then they moved on to drugs. Pain-inflicting venoms, nerve-sensitivity-boosting neurotoxins, and finally, a concoction that made him feel an undeniable urge to speak and say literally anything. This was the closest they had reached to defeating him, but after some quick thinking, he bit his own tongue off. They were forced to surgically reattach his tongue and heal it back into place, but every further attempt at using that drug resulted in him biting it off again, and if they tried fixing his jaw to make him unable to do that, naturally, he couldn¡¯t speak coherent words. They also tried dulling his teeth by using sandpaper to scrape them smooth, but he had, to his own surprise, managed to use Flowing Strike with a bite to still mangle it enough to become unusable. Eventually, they put a pause on physical torture, deciding to get more creative. Once, they tried conning him into signing a ¡°magical contract¡± that would make them unable to harm him, keep him imprisoned, or kill him if he gave them the information they wanted. Through some magical bull crap, of course. It was an impressive piece of work, that one. Ether script, sparkling paper, and shiny letters, all wrought from a pricey material that radiated a sense of power and authority, created a rather convincing image¡ªbut it was total bullshit. They were probably banking on him being too wrung out and desperate to think clearly enough to see through it. But, if anything, it was quite the opposite. Around this point, he began to wonder whether they were looking for his family or trying to kidnap someone he found dear to use them to coerce him into speaking. But it wasn¡¯t long until he realized there was nobody to target. He didn¡¯t give a shit about his biological parents, and as for his adoptive parents¡­ well¡­ nobody knew where they were. Perhaps he¡¯d hesitate if they brought Mark over, but kidnapping someone who lived in the 25th district would bring the wrath of the entire upper class on their head, so that was out of the question. So¡­ maybe Sharon or James? But that was unlikely. Given that the rent in that complex had doubled, likely due to its proximity to the soon-to-be-very-important passage, they had both most certainly moved out by now, along with most people who had lived there. And even then, if they went after and interviewed everyone who had lived in that complex, nobody would admit to knowing him, not even those two. A pretty basic rule of living in misery was that if someone came knocking asking if you were involved with one of your neighbors, you denied that shit without hesitation, precisely because of situations like this one. So¡­ an amusing realization dawned on him¡ªthere wasn¡¯t much left that they could use to get him to speak. And the list of options grew shorter with each passing day. Now, it was only a matter of seeing what was waiting for him at the end of that list. *** Freddy was tied up in a straitjacket, completely unable to move, yet again trapped within the sterile torture chamber in which he had gotten quite comfortable. A needle pierced his veins, another futile attempt to use some mysterious drug to get him to speak. He was sure he¡¯d be pretty shocked if he could see himself in the mirror. By now, all that was left of his hair were a few loose, sickly strands. The light in his eyes had dimmed considerably. Every inch of his skin was profoundly scarred, and nasty, long hairs grew sporadically throughout his body. His joints ached, and his muscles had atrophied due to the lack of movement and the pathetic diet of half-rotten leftovers he ate. A constant stomachache lingered in his gut. He waited in anticipation, wondering what they were up to this time. But as the drug seeped into his veins, he was caught off guard. A flood of intense ecstasy rushed through his body, and he found himself short of breath. Then, without being subjected to anything else, he was dragged to his cell and thrown back inside. As the feeling settled, he found breathing much easier, and he even cried simply due to the intense relief he was experiencing. Eventually, he opened his mouth and began singing. ¡°¡­always beside me, always on my mind. Lovin¡¯ you baby, you own my heart. I can¡¯t shake the feeling of your arms around my waist¡­¡± It was a habit that had stuck as a byproduct of one of their recent attempts. They played an incredibly cheesy pop song for several days straight and then approached him with the offer to turn that piece of shit off if he would tell them where Bloodshed was. While they had ensured that he couldn¡¯t go into the Netherecho to escape the music by filling the room with dangerous remnants, they had done nothing to prevent him from using Hundred Wet Hells, which completely deafened him as it sounded as if a dragon was taking a piss in his ear. It wasn¡¯t long until they turned it off, looking for other ways to get him to speak. For the next few days, they kept administering this new drug, giving him larger doses every time, and he found himself at a loss as to what the drug actually did other than make him feel incredible¡­ Until they cut the supply off. Ah¡­ so that¡¯s what they¡¯re playing at. The withdrawal was intense, and he mentally applauded them for this one. That night, he stayed up, shivering and sweating profusely, a fierce headache drilling a hole through his forehead. He was already imagining when they offered him the drug, and he knew that saying no wouldn¡¯t be easy this time. The following day arrived, but he wasn¡¯t dragged off anywhere. A familiar figure strode into his chamber instead. Janhalar himself, who had been less and less involved with the interrogation as time passed, walked into the room carrying a small suitcase. He placed it before him, opening it and revealing a very generous supply of the drug, separated into many small bottles. Squatting on the floor, he gestured to the open case and leaned closer. He made him an offer. ¡°This can last you an entire year,¡± he said, pausing to let his words sink in. ¡°You just have to tell me where you¡¯ve hidden the unique. You already know you aren¡¯t leaving this place until we have it, so why do you stall? What are you waiting for?¡± he asked, pushing the suitcase forward. ¡°You have proven yourself. And you have wasted enough of both of our time. Go on. Take it.¡± Freddy¡¯s mouth felt dry, and he gulped. ¡°Take it¡­¡± He bit his lips and breathed heavily. ¡°Take it!¡± the patriarch yelled. An overwhelming desire to spill the beans filled every cell of his body, and he shook, trying to lean forward. And then he opened his mouth to speak. ¡°Baby Janhalar went on a walk with his mommy and daddy,¡± he said, shivering and short of breath, eliciting a frown from the patriarch. But he continued, ¡°They spotted another child walking with their parents. A little girl who held a shiny toy, one that baby Janhalar wanted for himself. So he cried, ¡®Mommy, Mommy, Daddy, Daddy, please get it for me!¡¯¡± he said in an annoying voice. ¡°His parents pulled out knives and brutally murdered the entire family, all to please their little crotch goblin¡¯s¡ªevery¡ªfucking¡ªwhim.¡± Then he began laughing, cackling maniacally. ¡°Does this sound familiar to you, Janny, huh!? Is this how you were fucking raised!? No wonder you¡¯re such a spoiled brat! And now you¡¯ve finally stepped into reach!¡± he said as he spat in the patriarch¡¯s face. ¡°Bullseye!¡± The man winced and closed his eyes, feeling the drool flow down his cheek and, finally, his jaw. He lifted an arm and wiped it off with his sleeve. Picking up the suitcase off the ground, he left the cell and calmly closed the door behind him, leaving the cackling Freddy alone in the dark. *** Time passed, and, well, it was becoming apparent. Either they were busy concocting another method, or¡­ they had given up. He almost felt lonely. Devising ways to counter them had become a game to him, his only source of entertainment. Thoughts of escape or getting out of here alive had long abandoned him. Even if he merely stayed here and waited, Bloodshed would eventually appear. A rather amusing thought crossed his mind. What if they failed to notice? In fact, there was a rather distinct possibility that Bloodshed would reach him, with them being none the wiser. Judging by the number of blood wisps in the Netherecho, blood-affinity personified ether constructs probably weren¡¯t all that rare here. That goofy little skeleton would blend right in. In fact, he found the idea thoroughly hilarious. If it did come, he¡¯d tell it to get lost. He considered consuming it to spite Janhalar further, but poor Bloodshed didn¡¯t deserve that. Besides, there was no way for him to get an ability to the peak of stage one anyway. Actually¡­ A thought crossed his mind. For whatever reason, they were keeping him alive. Although the chance of that was slim¡­ He remembered something Madame had told him. The interspace had many uniques, but most had evolved into eidolons too powerful to subdue. So if Bloodshed did visit him¡­ couldn¡¯t he tell it to go out there, become an eidolon, and then return and save him? He had this thought once before, but just because Bloodshed was a unique, it didn¡¯t mean that it was guaranteed to succeed at such a mission. Theoretically, it was possible. But it was extremely unlikely to work. It wasn¡¯t as if everyone would simply ignore a damn eidolon walking around the city. It would be taken out before it could reach him. Still, he wondered why he was even alive. Well, he supposed that compared to the value of a unique personified ether construct, keeping a prisoner fed for a few years was barely an expense. Especially given what they were feeding him. With little else to do but daydream, he occupied himself with training, even if there was probably no benefit to doing so. At the very least, it was fun, and it gave him something to focus on. Hundred Wet Hells had grown immensely due to his repeated usage of it. By now, it should be around 90% finished, quite close to reaching a threshold for an upgrade. Unfortunately, he couldn¡¯t upgrade it without access to vestiges, but that didn¡¯t mean he would be out of things to do. Even if it didn¡¯t grow further, it could still temper his body, although the efficiency would rapidly dwindle because he would adjust to it. While using Flowing Strike was possible even when fully restrained, the ability wouldn¡¯t grow if he did that. Repeated usage wasn¡¯t enough by itself to develop an ability. Even tempering techniques required patience and concentration. The key to growing an ether shell was to explore what it could do. His tempering techniques could grow just fine because none required movement to explore those possibilities. Freddy hadn¡¯t yet willed the Hydraulic Flex shell to crystallize. Manipulating water and flexing his muscles through that was possible even in his state, but it was best to couple the practice with movement to ensure that the effect didn¡¯t grow lopsided or unwieldy during practical use. So this left him with only four abilities to grow: Hundred Wet Hells, Water Body, Abyssal Depths, and Create Water. Although Create Water did manifest liquid, it took only a few moments to disappear, so there was no threat of flooding his little cell. The days marched on, and he immersed himself in his abilities. *** Janhalar sat before the council of elders, back in the New Earth headquarters of his sect, for the first time in months. The council chamber was a construction of cold, dark stone and spiky decorations, with crimson ritual carvings coating every surface in the room. ¡°¡­and with today¡¯s meeting, we shall conclude matters regarding the finalization of moving our headquarters to Faralethal,¡± one of the elders said, finishing his speech before the chamber of dozens of crimson-robed archhumans. With that, their meeting began. One issue after another was brought forth, most of it so menial that Janhalar wanted nothing more but to be done with it. Although he would never show such a mood outwardly, he felt giddy. It seemed that not all hope was lost. There may be a method to tracking down the unique hidden by Freddy Stern, after all. After nearly eight months of work, the bloody clothes, the dagger, and the broken bag that had acted as a catalyst were finally formed into full-fledged cursed items. The jagged dagger had been reinforced drastically and bathed in a unique concoction of blood. The plastic bag had been melted into a round plastic ball shaped into a pearl to fit on a ring. And the bloody clothes had been carefully disassembled, specially treated, and used in combination with costly cloth made of crimson spider silk to make robes. All three items held an intense power of blood and the sin of wrath. Not only that, but the ring was showing a hint of potentially developing into a unique cursed item. Although that was excellent news, the other part of what the ring could do made him even more excited. It resonated. The properties as one of the catalysts to the birth of a unique remnant stuck around, and although faint, that connection still existed. ¡°Patriarch?¡± one of the elders called out, and Janhalar returned his mind to the conversation. Although he hadn¡¯t been paying full attention, he had many years of practice keeping only a part of his mind on background conversations like this one. But as his conscious mind caught up with what the conversation was about, he froze. Somebody had put forth the suggestion to sell off the nearly five hundred political prisoners they kept at this location. ¡°Who suggested this?¡± he asked. ¡°Please come forth.¡± To his absolute surprise, Rahal, Janhalar¡¯s brother, was the one to stand up. His long, black hair draped over his shoulders as his crimson eyes openly projected his confidence. ¡°What are you thinking?¡± Janhalar asked him. Rahal knelt. ¡°I believe this would be the best way to make use of our prisoners.¡± ¡°No,¡± Janhalar said. ¡°Execute all of them.¡± ¡°Patriarch, I beg¡ª¡± ¡°Nothing good ever comes to those who underestimate their enemies, Rahal,¡± the patriarch said. ¡°What you¡¯re suggesting is tantamount to releasing five hundred potential future threats into the wild¡ªan act of insanity I am surprised to see coming from you.¡± ¡°With all due respect, Patriarch, you¡¯d be less surprised if you first heard me out.¡± Janhalar openly frowned at that. His brother would hear from him privately, but he couldn¡¯t afford to openly bash and deface him before all the important clan members. ¡°Speak,¡± he permitted. Rahal nodded and got up again. ¡°Patriarch, dear elders, allow me to introduce you to someone.¡± Upon receiving a nod from Rahal, one of the guards walked outside. Half a minute later, a man walked in. His slightly chubby body was clad in a luxury suit; his receding hairline was combed neatly and his face, although fully shaven, showed thick stubble that could easily grow into a full beard. ¡°Thank you for your time, esteemed elders, Clan Patriarch,¡± the man said with a confident, calm smile. ¡°My name is Stephen White. I have a business proposal for you.¡± Chapter 27 - Rotten Rahal sat in the small office, bitter at the task he had been burdened with. His brother, the patriarch, was a petty man. Although Rahal¡¯s suggestion had been ultimately accepted, that didn¡¯t stop Janhalar from enacting an unbelievably childish punishment upon him. He had been tasked with sorting through the five hundred prisoners and judging where each of them was supposed to go. There were many different sectors he could send them to, and depending on their individual prowess and their talent, he was to decide where they belonged. The lowest among the prisoners, those without notable talents and backgrounds, would be placed into the miscellaneous project pile, where they would be sent into indentured servitude doing manual labor. As for those with greater individual power, they were to be handled more¡­ delicately. If judged to be too dangerous, they were to be executed immediately. Granted, nobody would even make it out alive from any of the projects they could be allocated to, but Janhalar didn¡¯t like the idea of even the tiniest possibility of a miracle happening regardless. Anyone who escaped was bound to become trouble in the future. Thus, he slowly worked through the large pile of papers, quickly reading through them and putting them in different piles. Eventually, he stumbled upon one that immediately caught his interest. Freddy Stern. The man who kept silent for nearly half a year, enduring through practically every form of torture they could throw at him. Personality-wise, this was the exact type of person who would immediately go on the execution pile, no questions asked, but¡­ This man had absolutely nothing going for him¡ªzero background, was judged to be incompetent in all forms of combat, and on top of that, the man was practically crippled with all the damage the excessive torture had done to him. Glancing at the talent, Rahal paused. 1% Lifesteal. Information on it had been gathered right from the source, or rather, the person who sold this man the prime. The trader had been quite pessimistic about the prospects of this talent. The only case where it could be of notable use would be if the healing quality was first aid or minimal quality. That would make it act fast enough to have some utility in combat, but¡­ even in that case, the user would die if they suffered too much damage unless they were healed immediately afterward. Coupled with the water affinity, it became even worse. If it was fire or death, it could be at least passable with an evolution or two, but water? If the healing quality was natural, the situation became even worse. That was the worst healing quality by far, and having it forced on a user during combat was akin to an anti-talent. And if the quality was higher than that, at supernatural or even supreme quality¡­ would it do anything? Water¡¯s inability to do damage, the low percentage, high quality¡­ and with that mangled body? At that point, he might as well not even have a talent at all. Rahal sighed. ¡°Pitiful bastard,¡± he muttered into his chin as he put the paper on the miscellaneous pile. For a moment, he entertained the idea of having the man executed just to put him out of his misery. But no. The man had nobody but himself to blame. Had he cooperated, he would have been granted the mercy of death a long time ago. *** Freddy sat in his dark cell with a small globule of water floating around his body in an unstable orbit, losing a few drops every few seconds. As the last of the liquid left the grasp of his essence control, he used Create Water again. His arms were trapped in a profoundly filthy straitjacket, and the burst of water from his right hand flowed into the dirty clothing. With all the focus he could muster, he extracted a few drops of the conjured water before they could disappear, while the rest vanished, returning to essence. The liquid he grasped formed yet another ball, and that sphere again made its way around his body. Reaching the peak of a stage zero ability and preparing it for an upgrade wasn¡¯t an awe-inspiring achievement. But it frequently required a lot of time. Combat-oriented abilities grew optimally in, well, combat, and tempering techniques needed a vast investment of time, effort, and essence to grow. Given that he had nothing but time and essence in this dingy cell, it took him nearly no time to perfect the ether shell for Hundred Wet Hells. By now, whenever he used the tempering technique, the surface of his body visibly vibrated under the intense forces raging inside him. But, as he continued using the ability, the less and less that turbulence could do to him. The ability was no longer growing; consequently, his resistance had drastically outpaced it. So then he had moved on to Abyssal Depths. Yet again, it took close to no time to max it out and for the effect to drastically slow down. His body was shriveled, thinning, and withering under the lack of movement and calories, but he was still at least as heavy as he had been before losing all that body mass, purely due to all the water that had been compressed into his form. And finally, he had maxed out Water Body as well. While 1% Lifesteal made this ability obsolete, in his circumstances, he was sure that it was likely the only reason he could even think straight. It was fantastic at eliminating inflammation, easing joint and muscle pain, and improving his health. Hell, given how long he had been restrained here, it was likely that he would have already died from septic shock had he not been using it. Surprisingly, Create Water had not been maxed out yet, but it was getting close. Despite his impressive overall growth, given his utter lack of freedom and resources, he barely progressed in growing his star. The capacity had only reached 55% despite the countless hours of work he had spent gathering. But that was far from surprising. He barely had more freedom than an industrial farm animal, let alone enough to train properly. The gag that filled his mouth had a hole in it. When it was time to ¡°feed¡± Freddy, an employee or servant would walk in, put a funnel to the gag hole, and pour disgusting slop into it. Or, occasionally, passable slop. He guessed that his meals were a product of blending all the leftovers of whatever the employees and clan members ate that day. The quality and amount of food he received varied, and occasionally, he received none. He was shackled right above a hole in the ground, and his suit had a just-barely-convenient-enough gap for whenever he had to do his business. For a long time, his life had come down to seeking ways to entertain himself. Once he ran out of abilities to grow, he resorted to practicing his essence control. As the ball of water accidentally touched his shoulder, a good part seeped into the cloth, and the remainder collapsed as he lost control of it. Just as he was about to Create Water again, the giant steel door of his cell opened with an all-too-familiar screech, immediately causing his mouth to water as his saliva glands got to work. It was feeding time. A large man dressed in muted red robes walked in. This was nobody he had seen before. The man wasn¡¯t hauling the slop bucket, either. For a brief instant, every cell in his body exploded with terror as he assumed they were returning to torturing him. But there was little he could do to prevent it. Stepping in right above him, the man unlocked the shackles which held him attached to the wall. Oh, shit, was all he had time to think as the man picked him up over the shoulder and hauled him out of the room. Before long, the guard, with him in tow over his shoulder, reached a sizable chamber paved in pale stone. There were a few doors along the edges, and a large window on the ceiling revealed a small patch of the sky, something that he hadn¡¯t seen in a long time. However, he had no time to ponder the clouds as his attention was occupied by something else entirely. As several red-robed individuals guided them, numerous naked, completely bald prisoners were put into lines, with cracking whips and authoritative yells ensuring they all stayed there. He was placed at the end of this line. He stood on top of a two-by-two meter metallic grill, with light faintly illuminating a pool of liquid beneath it. The thought that the grill would open and drop him into the pool struck him suddenly, but¡ª Before Freddy could react, a man splashed him with a stinky fluid. It prickled his skin on contact, and he felt the grime and filth being melted away¡­ together with his clothes and what little was left of his hair, both disappearing at the touch of what could only have been some sort of acid. The resulting concoction of melted organic material flowed through the grill, adding to the container of rancid liquid below. That, at least, explained why everyone was nude and bald. The substance didn¡¯t seem dangerous, but it was pretty irritating, with the bit that got into his eyes burning so bad he could barely see. Thankfully, he was hosed down after a few seconds. Moments after the last of the filth was washed off his body, he was pushed forward into the line, making space for another prisoner up for a bath. Although he was drenched, it didn¡¯t take too long for his nude form to dry, leaving him feeling surprisingly clean. What little air moved over his skin tickled in a cold yet burning sensation that wasn¡¯t strictly unpleasant. A glance at his body revealed something that came as a shock, even to him. His skin was so fucked up that he barely even looked human. Numerous pale scars were scattered all over, varying in shape and size, and noticeable ¡°lumps,¡± among other imperfections, including black spots, visibly protruding veins, and patches of yellow or otherwise discolored skin, were spread among them. Raising his eyes, he spotted a few prisoners take their eyes off him in panic when they spotted him looking. Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. Walking wasn¡¯t quite as agonizing as he expected, but it was damn hard. His legs didn¡¯t want to go straight, and the lack of use worsened his already poor coordination. The missing toes weren¡¯t helping either, as whatever role they played in keeping balance was clearly quite impactful, judging by the impact of their absence. For a brief instant, he pondered attempting to break free of the line and trying to escape. A moment later, one such wannabe rebel broke away. A black whip flashed with red light as it cracked against the man¡¯s skull, and he was dead on the ground a moment later. There goes that plan. After an excruciating hour of slowly making his way forward, he reached the end of the line. There, he was handed a set of striped orange clothes with convenient flaps and zippers, allowing him to put them on even though his hands and legs were shackled. They didn¡¯t give him any footwear. Finally reaching the end of the chamber, he arrived in¡­ another chamber, nearly identical in size, shape, and the light-gray stone that paved the floor, walls, and tall ceiling, the missing windows being the only noticeable architectural difference. Another thing that caught him off-guard was that, despite his wild expectations of what he would see on the other side, the prisoners were instead just seated all over the floor, most chatting amicably, and the number of guards had been significantly reduced. As he was¡­ almost politely guided to his seat, he was also provided a two-liter bottle of water and a sandwich. Unable to restrain his incredulity, he cautiously glanced around him. A few times, he tried asking some of the prisoners what was happening, but most replied that they had no idea, and then, with barely any subtlety, moved some distance from him. It wasn¡¯t too surprising. None of the captives he had seen looked like they had been tortured, at least not much. Only God knew what went through their minds when they saw him, but it was clear that they weren¡¯t thrilled to be seated beside him. Judgmental and rude, but he wouldn¡¯t complain about having some personal space. A door that he hadn¡¯t even seen until that point opened, and a voice shouted a name from within, ¡°James Hilfinger!¡± One of the prisoners got up, walked over to the door, and stepped inside, while another walked out, seemingly in high spirits. A faint hope sparked in his heart, but he extinguished it immediately. He wasn¡¯t about to believe for a second that he would be allowed to walk out of here, no strings attached, but¡­ after seeing numerous prisoners walk in and out, and with most at least a bit happier than they were stepping in, with a few outliers that seemed quite frustrated, he couldn¡¯t help but feel some trepidation. Hope was out of the question, however. That emotion had been thoroughly stomped out of him. Hours marched on, and the room was already stuffed full. It would probably take several days for all the prisoners to finish whatever was waiting for them on the other side, and he couldn¡¯t help but think that he would have preferred waiting in his cell. He was at least used to that. After a while, he felt drowsy, and to his absolute bewilderment, one of the guards walked up to him and offered him a cup of coffee. It was a plastic cup filled with, judging by the smell, crappy instant coffee, but it was so much more than he had been expecting to receive that he couldn¡¯t help but grow suspicious. But¡­ as soon as he denied the offer, the guard merely nodded and walked away, offering it to another prisoner who gladly accepted it. He kept a close eye on the woman who took the cup, but even after several hours, there was no indication that the coffee had any adverse effects. It was difficult to tell, though, given that she was clearly distressed by his staring. After another half hour or so of waiting, he finally heard it. ¡°Freddy Stern!¡± a woman yelled, and he got up. Anyone who got up was stared at. Gazes didn¡¯t linger on him for long, though, and whispers immediately spread among the prisoners. As soon as he walked into the room, the cuffs on his wrists were removed, and he was allowed to step into what appeared to be a perfectly ordinary office space. Two guards stood at the entrance, and a man seated on the other end of a large desk greeted him. ¡°Hello! My name is Stephen White,¡± he introduced himself cheerfully. ¡°I¡¯m here to help you fulfill your commitments to the Kraven Clan.¡± He was a formally dressed, slightly chubby middle-aged man with slight signs of balding appearing on his hairline and a pleasant face with thick stubble along his fat-padded jaw. Although he appeared quite polite, there was something about him that he instantly disliked. His demeanor reminded him too much of his old manager. The practiced manners, the Pan Am smile, the soulless eyes¡­ ugh. ¡°First, take a seat,¡± the man offered, and he complied, getting comfortable in the soft office chair. The man handed him a pre-prepared piece of paper, and he glanced at it, frowning. It was a statement claiming that he owed Kraven Inc. a staggering $13,321,739. Before he could say anything, the man lifted a hand. ¡°Please wait, Mr. Stern.¡± There was nothing to elaborate on. As this did not go through a court, it was clearly not a legally binding document. But that didn¡¯t really matter, because this whole situation was bullshit. The man pointed at the paper as if he could read his expression. ¡°That isn¡¯t just a paper with some numbers on it. That is an estimation of your debt based on the theft of Kraven Clan property, limited to that amount by your status and the nature of your offense.¡± The only thing preventing him from gritting his teeth was that they had almost entirely rotted away. So this would be his fate in the end. They had slapped an arbitrarily large debt on him and were about to force him into slave labor until he ¡°paid it off.¡± ¡°Mr. Stern,¡± the man said as he snapped his fingers in front of his face. ¡°Do not be discouraged. While this number might seem impossible to tackle, that is precisely why I¡¯m here,¡± he declared proudly. ¡°Through a partnership with the Kraven Clan and their corporation, I am acting as their official debt repayment manager. I have prepared a few options for you that we will go over, but I will give it to you straight. I believe the best choice for you would be to join the mining expedition on Faralethal.¡± ¡°The what?¡± he said, wincing at how weird his voice sounded. The gag had been on his mouth for so long that he had nearly forgotten how to speak. ¡°The mining expedition,¡± the man repeated himself. ¡°No, I mean¡­¡± he started but had to cough a few times. The man patiently waited as he spent a few seconds warming his throat before finally asking, ¡°What is Faralethal?¡± ¡°Oh!¡± the man realized after a second. ¡°I apologize. Yes, you aren¡¯t the first client to not know. Faralethal is the name of the passage realm C-000421. You might be more familiar with that term.¡± The irony momentarily stunned him. The passage realm he had discovered would now be where he would be sent into slave labor. So much for stardom and being written into history. ¡°Now,¡± the man said, interrupting his thoughts again, ¡°as I said, your debt isn¡¯t as large a concern as you might believe. The mining expedition is a highly lucrative business; I estimate it could take you ten or even as few as five years to pay off your debt!¡± Now that was some grade-A bullshit. Thirteen million in five years? This man must seriously be taking him for an idiot. ¡°I know this sounds surprising, but believe me when I say that the money won¡¯t come easy,¡± the man said, a glint of severity appearing in his tone. ¡°The mining expedition is frighteningly dangerous, and the death rate is staggering. We cannot and will not force you into participating if you do not wish. This is the fastest way for you to repay the debt and the job I was instructed to offer to every captive, but it is far from your only option.¡± The man then quickly listed a lengthy collection of possible jobs he could do to repay the debt. All of them were factory work. And they all had ridiculously long debt-repayment periods, averaging well over a hundred years of labor. Clearly, these offers were presented to make the mining expedition appear more palatable, but he had other plans. ¡°This job here.¡± He pointed at an offering. ¡°Gutting fish in a factory. I think I¡¯d like to do this.¡± Sure, it would take him a hundred and seventy years to repay his debt through this job, but that was no big deal. If anything, it gave him plenty of time to form and execute a proper plan. Besides, there was the whole part about him being practically immortal. What was a hundred and seventy years to a man who would never die of old age? The man¡¯s eye subtly twitched at that, and he suddenly looked deep in thought. ¡°Actually,¡± Stephen said, ¡°I just realized something.¡± He felt a prickle at the back of his head and a strong desire to punch the man in his nose as he had a solid premonition of what he was about to hear. ¡°Most¡ªno, all of these factories would run a general health test before allowing you to work there.¡± Then, glancing at his numerous scars and missing finger, he added, ¡°No offense, but I believe you stand no chance of passing them.¡± I could pass them with flying colors given a few days in the woods was what Freddy thought, but he was forced to keep that to himself. It was likely that the Kraven Clan didn¡¯t fully understand how his talent worked. He based this assumption on the fact that they hadn¡¯t already turned him into a living organ farm. So, with a hint of bitterness, he was forced to swallow his words and ask, already knowing the answer to his question, ¡°If that¡¯s the case, can you just show me all the jobs I qualify for?¡± And, as expected, the man only put aside the mining expedition. He wasn¡¯t done taking the piss yet, however. ¡°And this expedition won¡¯t have any general health requirements?¡± The man laughed at that. ¡°Well, as cruel as that might sound, no. It does not. But!¡± he said as he segued into what would likely be a bullshit excuse. ¡°People like you need some method to repay their debts, and this might just be the best option.¡± Fucking called it! He mentally high-fived himself. ¡°All right,¡± he said, still not done annoying Mr. White. ¡°I¡¯d like to run every health exam in all the factories.¡± The man winced at that. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, sir, but that won¡¯t be possible.¡± ¡°Why not?¡± he asked with a sly grin. ¡°Well¡­ you can only register for one position, and if you fail to pass their test, you will be left without a job.¡± ¡°So¡­ what happens if I am left ¡®without a job?¡¯¡± The man frowned at that. ¡°That is not up to me to decide. But given that this offer results from the clan cleaning up their business as they prepare to move their headquarters¡­ that will be their decision.¡± He smirked. ¡°That¡¯s what you should have said from the start, dickwad,¡± he mocked as he got up, had the shackles placed back on his hands, and walked out the door. *** In a small, barely human-sized box, Freddy lied uncomfortably. Given that the entrance into Faralethal was the roughly double-door-sized passage he had discovered, it was obvious that it would constantly be busy with archs going in and out. Naturally, this meant that getting over five hundred prisoners through wouldn¡¯t be a cheap ordeal¡ªunless they transported them like this, apparently. Luckily, at least, he was alone in his container and had been provided with a generous supply of water and snacks. For the vast majority of his trip there, he scoured the Netherecho. Not only did it spare him the constant turbulence, but it also allowed him to gather to his heart¡¯s content. The moment they entered the passage was easy to time, judging by the density of wisps that poked into his box. He briefly wondered how these wisps made it in when he was in a moving object, which should, by all means, not even be actively visible in the Netherecho, which yet again reminded him of the conceptual nature of the underlying layer of reality and its stubborn refusal to follow coherent rules. As the journey continued, his mind wandered to one subject¡ªBloodshed¡¯s arrival. Judging by what he discovered, it had been over half a year since he made his deal with the skeleton. After several hours of what seemed to be quite a turbulent flight, they reached their destination. The lid on his box popped open, and he was allowed to leave. As soon as he did, his breath caught in his throat. A sky that had no sun but still shone bright midday, a horizon that went far further in all directions than should have been possible, and a scale that made breathing difficult. They were currently located at the foot of an enormous mountain, one of many in a range of spiky, dark gray masses of stone that stretched so far into the sky they faded into vague, blue outlines at their peaks, which might even be stretching further than that. The growth surrounding them appeared normal at first glance, but every plant was at least slightly exotic in one way or another, and the air smelled like nothing he had ever experienced. The soil beneath his feet felt harsh, and everywhere he looked, his attention flitted from one insane sight to another; often, a flying monster would appear in the distance and disappear too fast for him to see what it was. A collection of floating islands was located to the left of the mountains, a forest of gigantic, coiling trees further in the same direction, a massive desert beside that, and, finally, vast, seemingly never-ending golden fields to the right of the mountain. Numerous fascinating structures teased at the edges of the horizon, but before he could pay them enough attention, the man who had opened his box shoved him, pushing him toward the gaping entrance of an overgrown cave. Freddy had no idea if he could survive this ¡°mining expedition,¡± but he knew one thing. To the bastards who underestimated him, to those who tormented him, to the rotten world that had betrayed him over and over and over and over and over and¡ª He had a debt to repay, indeed. So, no matter what it took or how rotten he had to become himself¡­ He would do anything to make it out alive. Chapter 28 - Inescapable As soon as the large crowd of captives and the guards guiding them entered the cave, it was as if they had stepped into an entirely different world. The air around Freddy was different; the floor beneath his feet was colder, softer, and covered in wild growth. The cave mouth was large, leading into a gigantic open cavern, with fungal and bushy growth all over the walls and floor and massive vines hanging from above. Everything looked shiny and slimy, and the sounds of footsteps echoed endlessly. The peculiar smell reminded him of the back of the warehouse he used to work in, where numerous old boxes rotted and the walls were covered in mold, but with a distinct sludgy tint that reminded him of the small patch of marsh he used to train by. Several hundred people had decided¡ªat least those who had a real choice, if anyone did¡ªto join this expedition. Everyone here seemed to be a male. Women were likely sent to a different camp. Despite the large cavern, this still made quite the crowd. The captives were led down a path carved through the growth, and eventually, they made it to the back of the cavern. Large crystals in rusty metal frames comprised the lanterns hanging off the walls that lit their path forward, and as the cave reached its end, the trail of light took them into a narrow entrance that went deeper underground. A metal barrier encased a part of the wall just to the right of that entrance. Most likely, there was a passage behind it. Every passage realm had at least two passages within, depending on the size and shape of the dimension. There were A-class passage realms ranging from the size of a room to the size of a large building, B-class passage realms that were usually the size of a biome, and C-class passage realms that comprised gigantic, sprawling environments. The realm they found themselves in was C-000421, or, rather, Faralethal, as it had been named. While it was classified with C-class realms, it would likely be placed into an entirely different category, given that it seemed to contain an entire, spherical planet, many times the size of New Earth. When one entered a realm, one could go through another passage, leading to an entirely different space. The further one went out, or, rather, the more ¡°steps¡± they took, the number of possible realms they could reach multiplied exponentially. The quasi-fourth-dimensional space with a near-infinite number of realms was called the interspace. It suddenly made much more sense why he was still alive. Because this place was a virtually inescapable prison. Even if he managed to run away from the encampment, he¡¯d be completely lost and at the mercy of so many monstrosities that he would be quickly reduced to a mere snack. That realization made him grit his teeth. Survival here would be a lot more complicated than he realized. As he stood, he didn¡¯t even have a shred of a plan. The prisoners were lined up and instructed to go down the tight path one at a time. It took a while of waiting, but eventually, he entered the narrow corridor carved into stone. There was enough space to walk upright with his head held high, but some of the taller captives ahead had to hunch a bit. This path appeared man-made, forming a circular tube through the ground that spiraled smoothly. The floor had been carved into rough, slippery steps. Moss and mold gathered on the walls, and the swampy stench worsened as he entered the constrained path. He, along with every other captive here, was entirely barefooted. Many of those in front and behind him lagged because their feet were too soft to tolerate the occasionally sharp and always slippery floor of the cave corridor. He had no such problems. His feet were as tough as tanned leather, and his pain tolerance would allow him to push through even if they weren¡¯t. The stench wasn¡¯t intolerable, but the air became more challenging to inhale the deeper they went. He felt his throat tighten as it grew more sore by the minute, whether it be due to allergies or the naturally irritating properties of whatever he was inhaling. Soon enough, the tight tunnel echoed with numerous people fighting for air; some even seemed to be on the brink of a panic attack. Suddenly, a masculine voice echoed around them, ¡°Don¡¯t worry about the air! You will get used to it eventually.¡± Splendid. Not only was that voice thunderous, but everything was. The loopy, tubular shape of the tunnel echoed constantly, and he could hear the endless pitter-patter of feet as if the entire expedition were walking on top of his head. Every so often, someone, somewhere in the line, would cough or yelp, and each time, it sounded as if they were doing so directly behind him. The fact that he was missing an entire ear didn¡¯t help since he couldn¡¯t tell which direction the sounds were coming from. This was highly disorienting. He still had the hole that led to his eardrum, and he could somewhat hear things, but if anything, he felt that the quieter, muffled hearing of his injured ear only made the situation worse. Eventually, they reached another natural cavern, one more overgrown but distinctly less verdant. Sickly blue and sludgy brown were the primary colors of plant life in this cave, although some species still stubbornly clung to shades of gooey green. Their trip through the natural cavern was brief, and it wasn¡¯t long until they were again making their way down a man-made tunnel. The difference in how sound traveled between the open caverns and the tunnels was staggering. There was no echo in the overgrown rooms as the plant growth absorbed much of the sound, giving him the occasional, momentary reprieve from the noise. Their trip continued for hours, heading deeper down. People constantly complained about headaches, but he had no such problem. Yes, the air stank, it was damn cold, and both his eardrums popped due to the change in pressure, but other than that, he was fine. It was most likely due to Hundred Wet Hells, which had, at that point, made his body quite resistant. The cold was the only thing that bothered him, but he could endure it just fine. Eventually, they stepped out of a tunnel that had been closed off by a metal gate, and after walking out of it, he realized they had finally reached their encampment. The cavern that most likely served as their base of operations was quite spacious. It was still overgrown, but a far cry from the wild, unrestrained flora of the underground they had been walking through. Most of the growth here was green and leafy, and neat paths had been carved, leading through the maze of tall, heavy cloth tents stretching through most of the cave. Countless workers strode around carrying mining equipment and large bags or carts of whatever they were extracting. Given the predominantly haggard looks of the workers, these were no voluntary employees either, it seemed. While the new arrivals were all completely bald, hairless men, many of the workers already there had grown their hair back out. Their party was taken through the maze of tents and over to a large clearing, where they were instructed to sit in organized rows and wait for a lecture to begin. Freddy couldn¡¯t help but sigh deeply as soon as he spotted the man who would be holding their lecture. Stephen White, the slimy middleman who acted as the ¡°debt repayment manager¡± for the Kraven Clan, stepped onto a shabby, wooden platform in front of the large crowd and pulled out a small microphone. He was almost impressed at how much he hated this person despite only a single prior meeting. Truly a champion of ass-hattery. No fucking wonder the man had a vested interest in getting more people to come to this death trap. He would be the one profiting from their labor. ¡°Greetings, gentlemen!¡± he said, his cheerful voice echoing around them. ¡°And welcome to Camp Violet!¡± Sure sounds inviting, he thought sarcastically, shaking his head in amusement. ¡°I have already met all of you personally, and I hope we can have a decent work relationship from now on! Now!¡± he said, scratching his beard and taking a few steps as he walked around the platform. ¡°I will be telling you all about your role here! Don¡¯t worry if you fail to keep up with everything. At the end of the introduction, you will be handed a guidebook containing all the information you are about to receive¡ªand more. ¡°First, I¡¯d like to warmly welcome all of you and establish some ground rules, as well as give you a few words of advice,¡± he said, pausing for a second and eyeing the crowd. ¡°The most important thing to remember is to be civil. Do not get into disputes with your coworkers! At best, you will be disciplined; at worse, you will be monetarily penalized; and in the worst-case scenario, you will be kicked out of the expedition.¡± Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! A deathly silence spilled over the entire room. Everyone knew what that meant. ¡°Now!¡± he said, turning around. ¡°We understand that you are all archhumans. We know that some of you are warriors and that, as such, you have your pride and that combat is an essential aspect of your life. ¡°So, if you have any disputes you wish to resolve and decide that the only way to do so is through confrontation, you can participate in a sanctioned duel. There is an arena in one of the abandoned yellow zones. Keep in mind that we¡¯re always keeping an eye on it, so don¡¯t get too wild. Do remember that both participants need to give their consent. But before it gets to that point, I will clarify something immediately. ¡°You do not and cannot ¡®own¡¯ a territory. You aren¡¯t entitled to any resources unless you¡¯ve extracted them and brought them back yourself.¡± He paused for emphasis again and glanced around the room. ¡°Any confrontation judged to have been started over territorial disputes will always result in an immediate expulsion from the expedition. ¡°With that out of the way, there is another important thing to remember. You will quickly discover that there is no such thing as a ¡®fence¡¯ keeping you contained here. There won¡¯t be guards or supervisors around while you work, and some might consider this an opportunity to shun their moral and legal responsibilities and escape through the caves. ¡°If you do this, you will die,¡± he said, yet again letting the statement sink in. ¡°We have mercenaries patrolling the areas we have already explored, so we can say with relative certainty that you won¡¯t be at risk as long as you stay within the marked and illuminated part of the caverns. But outside the borders of the territory we have claimed¡­ terrible things lurk. Creatures that could put even three or four-star warriors at risk of life or limb. Putting yourself in their path is suicide. ¡°There are many rules, all of which you can discover in your guidebook, so I will not be covering every single one. But there is one more thing you do need to know. You will be given a daily quota to fulfill. Two days out of every seven, you can take a break, and you are allowed to miss the quota thrice a month or more if you provide a valid reason, such as a debilitating injury or illness. ¡°And that quota is 3,500 dollars a day.¡± That elicited gasps and angry yells from the crowd, but the man quickly waved them down. ¡°I know that sounds absurd. And, if we are being honest, it is. But this¡­ This is why all of the powerful factions of New Earth are doing their best to establish themselves on Faralethal as soon as possible. You will quickly learn that this isn¡¯t a very strict quota. In fact, on average, the workers already established here fulfill that quota in roughly three hours of work a day.¡± That elicited more gasps and yells, but they sounded entirely different this time. ¡°Yes, my good people,¡± he offered, spreading his arms out. ¡°Humanity is entering an era of prosperity and wealth unlike any other we have experienced. And you! You are at the front lines.¡± Freddy rolled his eyes in exasperation. The man continued, ¡°There are more rules and regulations to cover, but I will leave that up to you. Please read the guidebooks, lest you find yourself in trouble. And now, I believe it is time for my good friend Killean to take over.¡± The following person who walked up was a skinny but muscular man with long hair and an unkempt, scruffy beard. The first topic he covered was the equipment they would be provided and a rough guideline on how to use it. Examples of everything he showed appeared on a massive projection floating beside him. They would all be provided standard mining equipment in the form of a pickaxe, a hammer and chisel, a sledgehammer and wedge, protective gear, a weight-reducing holding bag, and a foldable cartwheel, as well as an assortment of cutting tools and numerous pieces of optional equipment, depending on personal preference or predisposition. Next, he covered the basics of what they were doing there. Their goal was to extract ore, first and foremost. First, he covered ores that could be discovered on earth, including copper, iron, gold, silver, platinum, and so on, what their respective ores and veins looked like, and how to find them. Then, he covered ores unique to this planet. There were many, and yet again, the captives were instructed to reference the guidebook. The man showed crystals, gems, metals, and other exotic materials that could be discovered here. Some among them were so valuable that even a single fingernail-sized piece could cover the daily quota more than ten times over¡ªthe most expensive among them, a white crystal named ¡°tzenekite,¡± cost over 100,000 dollars per gram¡ªa mindboggling sum. Some of these materials, including tzenekite, required special care during their extraction, transportation, and storage, so everyone was instructed to read the guidebook carefully before interacting with anything unfamiliar. After finishing the descriptions of what they were looking for, the man briefly covered all the secondary ways money could be earned. Certain monster corpses could be sold for a sum, although actively hunting them was heavily discouraged. Numerous plants, bugs, fungi, small animals, and more could be captured, and there were even the occasional free lectures explaining how to hunt and forage these species most efficiently. Other than that, every so often, job postings would be placed on a board in the middle of their camp, usually with decent rates attached to them, and some individuals, if they believed their specific talent or abilities could be otherwise valuable, could file a form and request specialized jobs or roles. After that was done, the man briefly described the most common dangers that could be found in the caves. Of course, the most common were the monsters, but those were far from the only threats to look out for. Venomous bugs, poisonous mushrooms, unstable ground, shaky structural integrity, living plants that could either attack them or make traps, and apparently even spirits¡ªwhich could temporarily manifest a physical form in reality and attack them. Spirits were a personified ether construct that was a step up in power from remnants. Since spirits could easily pose a two-star or three-star rank threat and appear out of thin air, they posed one of the most unpredictable risks in the caves, but that was a reality everywhere within the interspace. Luckily enough, their appearance was rare, and more often than not, they wouldn¡¯t engage in combat if unprovoked, and even if they did, their physical form could only last so long. And finally, the thing that nobody wanted to hear¡ªthere was a threat that an eidolon might appear. Eidola could maintain physical form indefinitely. In fact, they existed both in the Netherecho and in reality, transcending the barrier between the layers of existence. They posed a four or even five-star threat in some cases. So, if anyone came across an eidolon that decided to attack them, they would die. And given that constructs that reached that level of power were usually the aggressive ones, they almost always did precisely that. The final thing that was discussed was the schedule. Or rather, the lack of one. The caverns had no day or night, so no strict work or sleep hours existed. There was, of course, still a public clock, a giant one attached to the ceiling above, keeping track of time so that everyone could know when they had to fulfill their quota. They were also briefly shown the alarm¡ªan incredibly grating warning that would be sounded in an emergency. If triggered, all workers were instructed to either hide or return to camp as soon as possible. Once the introduction was over, all the captives were handed the guide and shown to their living quarters. Everyone received a small tent to sleep in. Trespassing in another worker¡¯s living space was considered a serious offense, even if there was little to take from them. They were also shown where they could get their meals, and that was about it. The next day would be their first day on the job, starting in twenty hours. Until then, they were free to do whatever they wanted. The crowd dispersed, many in significantly higher spirits than one would expect slaves to be. But it wasn¡¯t hard to tell why. They had been granted a degree of freedom that nobody would expect to get working as a slave somewhere. Sure, their lives were at risk, but everyone was aware of that coming in. He was effectively forced to come, but he was sure that most others had a choice when picking where they wanted to work. That begged the question¡ªWas this operation legit? He pondered that. Could the people here legitimately pay off the debt and then be allowed to leave? Some part of him absolutely refused to believe that was the case. He was handed a slip with a number and went through the tents. He found the tent with the number 765 written above the entrance flap and walked inside. It was tall enough to stand in and wide enough to lie comfortably. A small blanket and a futon were neatly rolled up to the side, and there were a few pairs of clothes and the pile of equipment they were provided. A small lamp sat in the corner, and a testing pull on a string hanging from it showed that it worked just fine. Overall, it was rather cozy. Freddy picked through the equipment and found a canteen. Then he walked outside and strode over to the part of the camp where they served food. A medium-sized stretch of land was free of any tents, instead populated by many tables and chairs. It was positively packed, and the sight of the long line made him instantly lose his appetite. He instead walked over to one of the many large barrels standing to the side, turned the tap, and filled up his water canteen. Most people didn¡¯t notice him among the crowds, but those who caught sight of him instantly turned their gazes away. Heading back to his tent, he limped past the crowd of people, accidentally overhearing some of the conversations. Many were discussing their debts and how soon they believed they¡¯d be able to pay them off, and he even overheard a man wondering whether he could choose to stay here and work indefinitely, even after he was done paying back what he ¡°owed.¡± It all imbued him with a strange, profoundly wrong sensation. He only overheard two people say how much they owed, and both numbers were meager, less than $200,000, which wasn¡¯t a small number, but it paled compared to the sum they slapped on his ass. Soon enough, he had left the crowd behind and was walking between the tents. It took him a good few minutes to track down his tent, and once he did, he entered, lying down to get some sleep. But it wouldn¡¯t come. He knew damn well what was wrong. They still didn¡¯t know where Bloodshed was. Unless given solid enough evidence that it was gone, they would likely not stop searching for it. He could only reunite with Bloodshed if Kraven didn¡¯t find it. And if Kraven didn¡¯t find it, they would still consider him to hold the knowledge of its location. And as long as they had any reason to believe he knew where it was, they wouldn¡¯t let him walk away somewhere where he could retrieve it for himself¡ªor provide another faction with information about its location. His heartbeat sped up at the thought. According to what Stephen had said, a debt of $200,000 wouldn¡¯t take even three months to pay off. So why would they let him come to a place like this, where he could tell someone about to be set free where Bloodshed was? The answer to that, as dark and depressing as it was, was simple. It was because nobody would escape this expedition alive. Chapter 29 - The One in Power Once Freddy realized what had been bothering him, it didn¡¯t take long to come to terms with it. To him, this changed nothing, although, somewhere deep in the back of his mind, he felt disgusted at himself for brushing it off so quickly, he knew damn well he had no reason to care about what happened to the others who were here with him. Horrible shit happened all the time. That was just the way life was. The only fate he had any interest in changing was his own. If anything, finally having some confirmation that he was right was like a burden off his shoulders. The circumstances of his situation were clear. It was time to look for a way out. After sleeping for nearly thirteen hours straight, he felt pretty good. He was now more used to the smell and the cold, and he still had almost six hours until his first actual workday began. So, as was the best choice, he grabbed the guide and started reading it. After glancing at some of the more common ores and treasures, he promptly skipped the rest and went straight to the rules section. He wasn¡¯t planning on paying off the debt any time soon. While he wanted to earn the quota as quickly and efficiently as possible, not dying was more important. Rules were his priority, and then, the dangers the caverns might pose. As he read over the rules, he found himself quite amused. It had been a long while since he had done anything fun, so even reading these bullshit rules was enough to make him audibly laugh. Don¡¯t congregate in groups larger than five unless staff is present, don¡¯t gather, don¡¯t ascend, don¡¯t intentionally grow abilities (unless for productivity purposes), don¡¯t train, don¡¯t communicate with people in set patterns, do not hide any form of written content you have received from another worker, do not preach religions, do not¡­ and so the list went on. The rules were clearly aimed at crushing any chance of organized resistance appearing, and there was even a rule that outright stated that one would be rewarded quite handsomely if they reported suspicious behavior. Even though training, gathering, and growing abilities were forbidden, that wouldn¡¯t stop him, and hell, it wouldn¡¯t stop most people. The rules even added a very convenient exception for productivity. And as long as nobody saw him, who could say whether his growth had come from work or training? As for gathering, there was just no point in keeping constant track of every single person, and even then, it took quite the acute senses to determine whether a one-star had gotten slightly stronger. The only thing the administration could reliably track was whether someone had ascended or not. But the rest of the rules weren¡¯t there for no reason. They made trusting anyone nearly impossible. The rest of his free time was spent combing over the cave¡¯s threats and dangers. There was little merit in knowing the ores if he walked into his own death due to ignorance. Eventually, the bell rang, pulling him out of his focus. It was the sound that marked the start of a new day. While, strictly speaking, as long as he fulfilled his quota within the next twenty-four hours, he could start whenever he pleased, he got up anyway. A large box was seated right beside his futon in the tent. Inside, he discovered the new gray work uniform and an assortment of essential tools. He donned the clothes¡ªthe rocky-gray-and-brown camouflaged uniform made of thick, rough material, scattered with numerous pockets and compartments, the large, metal-plated boots, the helmet, the goggles, and the tool belt. On the tool belt, he placed the first-aid kit, a utility knife, a metal baton, the weight-reducing bag, and the chisel, while he put the sledgehammer and pickaxe into a strap that he swung over his back. There were some more tools he could take with him, but most he either wanted to try later or just had no idea what they were meant to be used for. So, without hesitation, he stepped out of the tent and followed the flow of the crowd toward a large cave entrance on the other side of the camp. *** On his first day out into the wilds of the cave system, Freddy boldly walked past the heavily populated area with several expedition employees organizing the workflow and stepped out, looking for a place to work in peace. Most of the immediate surrounding area was filled with workers. The plant life was low to nonexistent, while most of the walls had tunnels dug into them, held in place by heavy support beams that looked to have been created by earth manipulation. The populated area was rowdy, the air was full of dust, and while some air-affinity archs seemed to be tasked with keeping the dust down, they could only do so much when earth- or water-affinity archs swung their pickaxes with force that sent shards of stone flying. Several people simply put their hands against the wall and, through either an ability, a talent, or just raw manipulation, forced a section of the wall to break off and clutter to the ground. Earth-affinity archs were clearly in their element here, while other affinities had to get more resourceful. There were the standard attack-strengthening abilities that most affinities had at least some form of access to, but there were more creative applications as well. A woman with the nature affinity used it to spread roots into the stone to break chunks off, a fire-affinity worker triggered tiny explosions between cracks and a death-affinity arch employed some undead servants to work for them. The little creatures were clearly assembled out of the bones of dead monsters, and their power wasn¡¯t all that impressive, but they were reliable enough to help carry heavy loads. Even if the sight of them left him feeling rather disturbed. The sounds of metal on stone resounded loudly through the cave, and so did the half-orders given out by the organizers. They seemed to be more like suggestions, actually. Stuff like ¡°Please move aside,¡± or ¡°Do not move along this edge if possible.¡± He was absolutely sure that every captive here would be executed in one way or another. That only made this clear morale management feel that much more disgusting. Many workers stared at him as he passed by, and it couldn¡¯t have been more evident that his looks made them uncomfortable. Given that if he ever wanted to get out of here, he would have to prepare out of sight of others, he wasn¡¯t thrilled to be around them either. Eventually, he made it past the core of the mining expedition and stepped into an area that hadn¡¯t been processed so thoroughly. Every part that had been explored had also been marked in numerous ways. The most basic were the lanterns. They were everywhere, illuminating the entire cave system¡¯s moist, glistening outline. Other than that, numerous signs were laid out, marking sections, characteristics of specific areas, notable dangers present, the overall danger level, directions, the most common ores, which tools were recommended for use in certain areas, and so on. Maneuvering through the caves was a damn nightmare. Everything was overgrown with thick plant life, and the colors varied from zone to zone. At first, he walked through the area where the plant life had been stripped down quite heavily¡ªwithout even realizing it. Only when he walked into the less explored section of the cave did he understand what a genuinely overgrown cave looked like. Once he reached a bulky metallic fence that blocked off what could only be called a wall of thick, verdant vines, fungal growth, and these soft, white¡­ trees? Big mushrooms? There were muffled sounds of movement within, too, not to mention the lack of illumination. Only then did he realize that the unexplored area required a machete and a lantern at the very least, and plants might not be the only thing he¡¯d have to cut through. And that was a problem. A big one. Without much hesitation, he turned around and returned to the already-explored section, looking for a place to start mining. While a bit of plant slaughter wouldn¡¯t impact his current state much, if he used his talent too much, he¡¯d reveal its quality sooner rather than later. Whether this was something to be worried about depended on how the expedition leaders would react. If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. They could end up not caring. But was that really going to happen? No. The far more likely outcome was that he would be used as a test subject for experimental alchemical concoctions. If not for some other morbid purpose he wasn¡¯t brave enough to imagine. That obviously didn¡¯t mean that he could stay as he was. His body was falling apart. Finding a way to use 1% Lifesteal without raising eyebrows was pretty high on his list of priorities. The first thing he needed to do was find a place where he could have some privacy. The less interaction with others, the better. Unfortunately, however, most of the places in the caves had at least one or two stragglers looking for decent spots. True privacy was a problem he would have to find a solution to eventually. As it stood, it was either other people or monsters. For the time being, he would settle for the scattered stragglers. To his surprise, however, he found a place that might actually be entirely abandoned. Danger level: Low. Recommended tools: Standard pickaxe, sledgehammer, and wedge. Notable ore deposits: None. This was the first time he encountered an area with no notable ore deposits. Not even he was interested in mining here, per se, but he still headed there to give it a once-over and check for any decent hidden spots. The area itself was a cavern of barren rock, with no growth of any kind in sight. To his bewilderment, however, the first thing of note he found inside were¡­ people. At least ten men, actually. They weren¡¯t a part of a single group either, but all were heading in different directions. One of them walked past him, a burly man with long hair, and he was bruised, with a cut lip and a large black eye. Huh¡­? he mused internally. Had he encountered some form of gathering spot? The pattern of people coming and going was quite obvious, and he couldn¡¯t help but get somewhat curious. He casually followed behind a few men who seemed to be heading in the same direction. He eventually noticed a faint sound. It was muffled and non-descript, like overlapping whispers, clinks, and distant grunts, all underlined by the constant hum of¡­ wind? Eventually, however, the sounds became clearer. It was cheering. The men finally reached a well-concealed, tight turn that led into a large, open room. ¡°Fucking get him!¡± ¡°No, you dumb cunt! Don¡¯t grab the leg!¡± ¡°Hahaha, that¡¯s gonna hurt like a bitch!¡± Two large men, dressed in nothing but boxer shorts, stood in the center of what could only be described as an arena, surrounded by a crowd of cheering onlookers sat upon a makeshift stadium. The fight between the two of them was far from a graceful martial arts match, but it was clear that neither of the two were amateurs. Oh, so this is where they hold the sanctioned matches¡­ he realized immediately. Rather than stick around, he decided to turn tail and leave, but before he could, several men quickly walked over to him, surrounding him and effectively cornering him. Oh boy, here we go. ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± one of the men, a skinny, dirty guy, asked. ¡°Shaven fella, I see?¡± a bearded man to his left commented, remarking on Freddy¡¯s appearance, which was in line with what most rookies looked like. Anyone who had been here for a while had already grown their hair back, making newbies easily identifiable. ¡°I reckon you know what¡¯s up already.¡± Freddy grinned at the man, and two people before him winced once they saw the absolute terror inside his mouth. One of them even swung a hand before his nose, likely in a futile attempt to chase away the stink. ¡°Do you eat coal as a snack, you rotten bastard?¡± the skinny man asked, and the bearded one put a hand on his shoulder to interrupt him. ¡°Listen,¡± he said, referring to Freddy. ¡°This place has a certain¡­ tradition. Need me to spell it out for ya?¡± As if to punctuate the man¡¯s question, the slightly larger of the two fighters landed a solid punch on the other man¡¯s liver, dropping him to the ground. A wave of cheers and boos echoed out, and he could see numerous people exchanging bags, likely the stakes of a bet between them. A couple of men ran out, using different forms of healing on the two fighters. It didn¡¯t seem to be anything special, and it was hard to see what they did through the thick layer of blood covering the two men¡¯s faces, but the one still standing appeared visibly relieved after receiving the heal. ¡°Well then,¡± Freddy said as cheerfully as he could, ¡°you boys have fun. I¡¯m gonna go get some work done. ¡°Wait a minute,¡± the man said, grabbing his shoulder. ¡°I don¡¯t think you quite understood me.¡± The others moved before him, and he felt that he could sense the direction this was going. He was heavily outnumbered, and there really was no point in resisting, so he hurried things along rather than let them waste more of his time. The bearded man was clearly about to speak, but he interrupted him. ¡°Who am I up against?¡± he asked. The man¡¯s demeanor shifted slightly, and he grinned. ¡°You¡¯ll know when you¡¯re called out.¡± Freddy nodded and waited as the man ran off to a couple of people, pointed at him, and waved him over. After a brief talk with who appeared to be the ring leaders, he was told to wait a few minutes as they looked for an opponent. ¡°Remember,¡± one of the ringleaders instructed him, ¡°no lethal techniques, keep external abilities to a minimum, and don¡¯t aim for the nuts.¡± No lethal techniques, huh? he thought jokingly. What a stupid thing to say. He put his equipment aside and took off the goggles as he waited. Nobody was fighting, so most people were looking at him and the other ringleader running around searching for an opponent. He felt his body flush with adrenaline as he waited, seated in the corner of the arena. It was hard to pinpoint precisely what he was feeling. Was it just excitement? Maybe it was fear. Before he could place it, his opponent was already stepping into the ring. He got up, took a few steps forward, and walked into the plain, cleared stone of the arena¡ª ¡°Wait!¡± one of the men behind him yelled. ¡°The uniform, man! Take it off!¡± Without any protest, he merely nodded and complied. As he unzipped and gradually removed the gray suit¡­ the cheering of the crowd grew quieter, and as he finished stripping it off, the room turned deathly silent. The missing fingers, the scars, burns, and other marks lining his skin were gruesome. He looked like he¡¯d been put into a giant blender, then an oven, and then struck by lightning. Every inch of the surface of his body was battered, and he was pretty skinny on top of that. The many days of confinement had cost him most of his body mass, and even now, he felt stiff and rigid. Yet, despite all of that, he stood ramrod straight and walked forward with absolute confidence. He wasn¡¯t sure he¡¯d win, but he had little to lose. Hundred Wet Hells at peak stage zero made the odds of him dying from a single strike by another one-star nonexistent. And he had a thing for coping with injuries. ¡°Hey!¡± someone yelled from behind him, and he felt a hand grabbing his arm. ¡°Wait! Are uh¡­ Are you sure you can fight?¡± the man asked, wincing at the sight of his mangled skin. ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± he said, pulling his arm back with more force than this person was expecting to see. The last thing he wanted was for others to see him as weak. The weak were prey. He was done being at the mercy of others. His opponent was a bald man roughly his own height but with a bit more muscle and quite a bit more fat on him. Another one-star, just like himself, and just as expected. His eyes were green, his face was clean, and he had his fair share of battle scars. Yet the air of uncertainty was thick around him as he took Freddy¡¯s form in, despite his blatant attempt at trying to seem confident. Freddy¡¯s body was a consequence of torture. A lot of torture. And anyone with a good head on their shoulders would wonder what kind of lunatic could still stand so proudly while looking like that, regardless of how they earned such injuries. Upon stepping right before the man, Freddy stood, calmly taking his opponent in. His guard was down, and he was simply standing still, waiting for the fight to begin. The man who would be the judge of the fight glanced at someone beside him, and once he received an affirmative nod, he finally swung a fist down. ¡°Begin!¡± The bald figure lunged, capitalizing on his opponent¡¯s total lack of defense. His movement was unnaturally smooth and quick, likely due to whatever his talent was. His fist landed right in the middle of Freddy¡¯s torso, who felt like a boulder had smashed into his stomach. The man had used Tectonic Strike, and his stone-like skin was clearly the product of much tempering. Even beyond that, the man¡¯s attack was simply well-placed. But Freddy hadn¡¯t moved an inch. Flowing Strike could be used in several ways, but in essence, it was about moving water within one¡¯s body in a particular direction. Just as the man was about to land his blow, Freddy used Flowing Strike to concentrate the thick, heavy water in his body right in the middle of his torso, countering the momentum. The result had echoed loudly through his body, and even with his internal toughness, he felt the pain. But he ignored it. The man¡¯s shock at finding his attack ineffective briefly exposed him, and Freddy rushed to grip his wrist. For all that time during confinement, he could barely move. But there was one action that he could still do and often inadvertently did while coping with the pain of Hundred Wet Hells¡ªclenching his fists. The steel grip of his left hand was like an iron vice, even with his ring finger missing, and the man was stuck out of balance, awkwardly trying to wrench his arm back, now very clearly afraid to be standing where he was. It was finally coming together. Beneath all the shame and panic he felt when he killed that man in the alley¡­ He pulled his fist back. Flowing Strike pushed his arm in a clean haymaker, and as he watched it land on the man¡¯s chin, he felt it. That was it. The rush of a decisive blow. The pleasure of life force coursing through his body. His entire life, he had been a speck of dust. A pitiful animal that could be stepped on and played with by predators. As his opponent crumpled to the ground, unconscious after receiving the blow, and the crowd gawked in absolute disbelief, he knew exactly what he felt. The refreshing rush of finally being the one in power. Chapter 30 - A Step Into Infinity After that fight, nobody stepped in his path when he headed back out into the caves. The crowd cheered wildly, and he heard those noises gradually quieten as he left the area. The punch had sent a notable healing pulse throughout his body, but not an impactful one. It was only 1% Lifesteal, after all, and the sheer amount of healing needed to help him recover from the numerous layers of scars and permanent injuries wouldn¡¯t be covered with a single punch. Still, though, he had forgotten just how good using his talent felt. So, with a pep to his walk, he strode out of the makeshift arena, feeling refreshed. But he most certainly wasn¡¯t feeling good. Frankly, if he had to fight that same man again, he wasn¡¯t sure if he¡¯d be able to win, at least not that easily. Such a trap wasn¡¯t going to work twice, and the moment anyone realized just how bad he was at actual fighting, nobody would let themselves fall for such a trick. But¡ª ¡°Pfff!¡± he snorted after making it a bit away from the crowds. ¡°Hahahahahahaha! The look on his face! Ha! Holy shit, he was like, ¡®Aw, fuck, this man gon¡¯ kill me, ain¡¯t he?¡¯ Hahahahahah!¡± His laughs echoed around him, even though his stomach was killing him. Indeed, although his little Flowing Strike trick had worked, it wouldn¡¯t become a cornerstone of his fighting style any time soon. His internal organs felt like they had been scrambled, and it wasn¡¯t like he could heal up quite yet. Still, despite the force of the impact feeling like a damn explosion had gone off inside him, it had done surprisingly minor damage. Hundred Wet Hells held up to its reputation. ¡°Now then, let¡¯s go do some actual work.¡± *** After quite a bit of looking around, he settled for a relatively secluded area. A worker or two passed occasionally, but it was out of the way enough, at least, that nobody was working beside him. Too far out, and he¡¯d step into severe danger zones, where the risk of a monster appearing was too high to take lightly. He settled for a patch of the wall that another worker had already started on. The growth had been stripped, and a roughly two-by-two-meter wall patch had clearly been worked on, but only the surface layer had been removed. Putting his equipment on the floor beside him, he picked up the pickaxe and lifted it. Flowing Strike worked its way through his arms, and the tool came down with all the might he could muster¡ªonly to awkwardly bounce off the uneven surface and wrench itself out of his arm, pulling on one of his forearm muscles. ¡°Ow, what the¡ª¡± Was this wall just that damn hard? The noise of the impact had been deafening, and he could still hear the echoes through the cave. Picking his tool back off the ground, he started again; this time, he swung without using a Flowing Strike. It was pretty damn tricky. His missing ring finger on his left arm made holding the handle a bit clumsy, and if the pickaxe landed at an odd angle, it would just twist or ricochet off. Surprisingly, even the fact that he was missing some toes was a hindrance. He struggled to direct his force correctly, as getting into a proper stance was tricky. With some practice, however, he was starting to get the hang of it. Every subsequent swing landed more precisely, and before long, he was transferring the force into the wall instead of his arms. Every swing landed with a metallic clink, and sparks flew off. But he made almost no progress. The wall was hard, and he was beginning to suspect that this place had been given up for a reason. A few shards of rock chipped off, and as far as he could tell, nothing about them marked them as ore of any kind. A tiny shard of rock chipped off and hit him in his exposed throat. It didn¡¯t make him bleed, but it startled him somewhat. Given his slow progress, he started to suspect that he was doing it all wrong. Pulling the guide out of the strap on his toolbelt, he went to the tools section, which he skipped entirely on his first read-through. ¡°Aaah, okay,¡± he chirped in realization. Apparently, slamming the pickaxe right in the middle of pure rock as hard as this wasn¡¯t a good idea unless you had substantial force behind it. The goal was to strike where the stone¡¯s structural integrity was weakest¡ªseams, bends, nooks, and places where rock protruded. Either that, or just find softer material. A cursory glance at the almost smooth stone surface revealed no such weaknesses. Maybe he really did pick the wrong place. He¡¯d seen other workers do it, and while it took some force, it wasn¡¯t rare to see big chunks of stone falling off. Too lazy to read through the plentiful text in the guide, he decided to try something. Leaving the pickaxe aside, he picked up the sledgehammer. Flowing Strike yet again coursed through his arms, and with the weight of the sledgehammer, his dense body, and the momentum of the ability, the tool landed with a resounding thud that instantly broke off a large chunk of wall. While it looked like the entire stone surface had collapsed, it was a relatively thin layer. Still, it was progress, and with it being removed, he was beginning to spot some of those weaknesses the book discussed. After grabbing the pickaxe and chunking a few chips off, he revealed a large crack, perfect for the wedge he had brought. It was a small, triangular piece of metal meant to be placed into cracks and then slammed with a sledgehammer. Its purpose was to force large fragments of stone apart. So, he promptly put the wedge into the crack and swung the sledgehammer. He completely missed the wedge, and the sledgehammer slid down the rock, flying just slightly to the right of his leg. He stood frozen, keenly aware that he had nearly just smashed his shin into a million bits. Lifting the tool again, he repeated the movement, slightly slower this time, and managed to hit the wedge. He did so repeatedly until, finally, when he felt confident enough, he used Flowing Strike. It landed right on the small piece of metal, to even his own surprise, but the rock didn¡¯t break off. In fact, most of the force had been transferred right back into his arms, and he felt his bones strain to their limits. After cursing and swearing for a while as he waited for feeling to return to his hands, he repeated the damn movement, having to swing seven times until, finally, a massive boulder broke off from the wall, nearly crushing his foot as it tumbled down. As he barely avoided the tumbling piece of rock, he thought that maybe the workers shouldn¡¯t have as much freedom as they do. *** Freddy cursed his decision not to bring the foldable cart with him just because it had looked inconvenient to carry along. The weight-reducing part of the bag was, by no means, a weight-eliminating function. Shit was still heavy when placed inside, maybe seventy percent less, but that wasn¡¯t as much as it seemed when a couple of larger pieces of ore already became heavier than he himself, even after the reduction. He realized that fulfilling his quota might take several trips back and forth. Or, well, that was what he had thought. After returning to the camp, he placed the bag on the counter, where a burly man grabbed it and emptied it on the floor behind him. He picked up the pieces inside, one by one, and without even looking, threw them into one of the baskets behind his back. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. Once he was done counting the ores, he turned to him and said, ¡°Hm, 4,200. Name?¡± He stared at the man, utterly dumbfounded. Glancing at the clock above him, he realized it had only been around seven hours since the start of the day. And this bag was a fraction of the work he had actually done. He had picked up a few interesting pieces of rock without even knowing what they were, and apparently, he had hit the jackpot. ¡°Freddy Stern,¡± he answered. The man wrote something down and shooed him away. Well then. That left him with most of the day free to do whatever he wanted. He left the line, carrying his equipment back to his tent. It all left him so confused. But maybe that was the point. Perhaps this expedition was designed to disarm the workers and give them a sense of safety, freedom, and ease so they wouldn¡¯t riot or protest. That way, they need less staff to keep them under control. Or maybe they were doing it this way to encourage people to volunteer to stay even after their debts had been paid off? Something about this whole thing kept gnawing at him. Either way, his goals didn¡¯t change. He still had a plan to make. After leaving practically all his equipment in the tent, keeping just the uniform and the shoes on, and taking only the baton and dagger for self-defense, he promptly returned to the caves. And then he began exploring them. The immediate surrounding area, which was marked as a green zone, was the same for the most part. Clean of growth, constantly populated by workers, numerous tunnels boring into solid stone, and many signs detailing directions, section characteristics, warnings, and so on. It also seemed that the work was tallied and the profits were split based on relative worker merit, meaning that roles could be split more evenly. One person mined, another carried the ore, a third installed support beams, and so on. The so-called yellow zones began appearing once one stepped out of the immediate area. It was the area that had already been mostly explored, but it hadn¡¯t been processed as thoroughly as the green zones, so some dangers might still be present. What characterized the yellow zone was the lack of organized groups, the numerous messy holes in the walls, patches of stripped area, fewer signs and directions, and slightly less pronounced illumination. The plant growth was present but clearly disturbed by the constant commute of the many workers looking to go out further. Even further away was where the red zones started. It was the part that had already been contacted in the sense that people had explored it and made their way through it. Most of the vegetation was removed through fire or some other specialized talent. Some of the more recently claimed sections were still charred, while other areas, notably those with few promising ore deposits, were already beginning to be reclaimed by nature. What characterized a red zone, more than any of the other characteristics, was a distinct sense of danger. Noises that just barely crawled above the limen of hearing, shifting, subtle vibrations, and bugs. A lot of bugs. And finally, the absolute frontier, which he had already made contact with earlier that day¡ªthe ¡°black zone.¡± As he stepped past the charred remains of a recently claimed red zone, he made it down an open cavern that continued getting narrower and narrower the deeper he went. Eventually, the walls closed in on him, and just past a turn, he reached the entrance to another cavern. One that hadn¡¯t been claimed. This was the part of the caverns that hadn¡¯t been reached yet, and what waited inside was anyone¡¯s guess. He couldn¡¯t stop himself from gazing at it, peeking from behind a wall. The mere sight of the overgrown, thick, clearly untouched caves inspired a sense of awe and excitement. That wasn¡¯t just the wilderness. It was the far beyond, a step out into the untamed infinity of the interspace. It was like looking into the night sky, but if one could stroll among the stars. The sheer weight of a world that seemingly had no limits humanity knew of was overwhelming, and gazing at the entrance to a maze one had little to no hope of escaping from felt like staring into the maw of a beast preparing to swallow one whole. What could be waiting in there? How many beings, unknown treasures, and perhaps other civilizations were there? Humanity had already contacted several sapient species; hell, even he did when he encountered those little creatures. But most seemed rather primitive, with the most advanced species being the Khorks, a species of swine-men who had reached a quasi-medieval level of development. Putting such idle thoughts aside and turning the fuck back to get away from this very hazardous area, he continued his exploration. Eventually, he felt mostly satisfied. The underground was perilous, yes, but it was maintained rigorously. He hadn¡¯t spotted any monsters, even in the red zones, so, at least, those didn¡¯t seem to be an ordinary threat one would encounter daily. The biggest possible threat, actually, seemed to be the unpredictable structural integrity of the caves. As he walked past a bald old man hammering away at a wall, he became the unfortunate witness to one such accident. A significant chunk of the wall broke off, falling onto the man. He managed to deflect most of the weight with his left arm, but the momentum behind the impact shattered his forearm and injured the man¡¯s back, knocking him down to the ground. Freddy calmly observed the wall, making sure it wouldn¡¯t collapse further. Once it showed no signs of doing so, he helped the man and carried him down a part of the cave. No words were exchanged between them. The injured man could only produce pained grunts and effortful, deep breaths. Eventually, several others spotted them, and a staff member was called. They took the man off his arms, walking away without thanks, while he walked away without any demands. That hadn¡¯t been much effort, and what went around came around¡­ Hopefully. He¡¯d still make extra sure not to land himself in situations where he needed such help. Or, well, he would try. Freddy walked away from the commotion and briefly entered the Netherecho, ensuring he appeared on his shoulder, where he was at least partially hidden from danger. The leafy floor of the cavern turned into a beautiful painting of lush, natural growth. Numerous wisps of ether flashed into existence around him. While many were of earth and nature variants, there were a few wisps of water, innumerable ones he couldn¡¯t even begin to recognize, and even a few of the fire affinity. There were so many, in fact, that he could barely see. That was hardly an issue in the Netherecho, though. He merely willed himself to ignore their existence, and they vanished out of his sight. Several vestiges popped up around him. One looked like a relatively anthropomorphic female wearing a leafy dress and lazing around on the floor. Slightly to its side was a small rock with roots growing through it. And behind him was what appeared to be a rather large stone golem. It took the form of a muscular man and repeatedly flexed as if looking itself over in an imaginary mirror. Shit. Seeing a remnant the instant he checked the cavern¡¯s Netherecho gave him a nasty sense of foreboding. The creature noticed him almost instantly. ¡°Who is you, pussy? Weak and fragile!¡± it said in a rough, manly voice. Then it pointed a finger at its chest. ¡°Me solid. Rock solid! Stone hard and strong!¡± A concept of solidity, he guessed, but it could also be something like strength through hardness? It was difficult to tell what precisely. And he certainly wasn¡¯t curious enough to wait for it to attack him. He left the Netherecho immediately, quickly moving to another area and checking again. While, for the most part, he was after an area rich in water wisps, he was also doing his best to check every vestige he came across. They didn¡¯t necessarily have to be connected to water to be of value to him. He had maxed three tempering techniques, growing their shells to the peak of stage zero. It was far from unusual for martial artists to have several tempering techniques, but having three while still being a one-star was definitely out of the ordinary. With three tempering techniques, Create Water, Hydraulic Flex, once he created it, Flowing Strike, and one more ability he desperately wanted to develop, that meant he had seven powers to actively work on. For most people, that would take too long to grow while still a one-star, and it wasn¡¯t worth the effort. Ascending as fast as possible was generally much better for one¡¯s lifespan, given the immediate power boost. But he wasn¡¯t in a rush to ascend, given that he was forbidden from doing so and had an inordinate amount of essence to work with. When one ascended a rank and attained a new star, their talent evolved with them. While this was relatively unpredictable, there were numerous methods to skew the direction in which the talent would grow. The first was accomplishments, which generally improved the quality of one¡¯s talent. But the second one was equally important. Depending on which abilities one had, one¡¯s talent would generally evolve to accommodate said powers if possible. This didn¡¯t have to be anything significant, but sometimes, a tiny change to the nature of one¡¯s talent could make a world of difference. There were known cases of even non-combat talents becoming combat talents, although it was rare, and the talent was rarely anything special. That wasn¡¯t the thing that concerned him, however. The number of abilities one had didn¡¯t make much of an impact on the direction of the talent. If they were of a similar nature, that was. But if one had a collection of drastically different abilities with little synergy, that could mess with the direction. For this reason, discarding any abilities one didn¡¯t actively incorporate into their fighting style was recommended, and he would be doing precisely that to Squirt and Frog Leap. That would leave him with three tempering techniques to develop his body, a movement ability in the form of Hydraulic Flex when he acquired it, an offensive ability in the form of Flowing Strike, a utility ability in the form of Create Water, and a special ability he would do his best to attain. While he had no active defensive powers, seven was still nearly twice as many as the standard four archs worked on before reaching their second star. Eventually, he stepped into a particularly overgrown and moist part of the yellow zone. And a single, brief step into the Netherecho revealed precisely what he had been looking for. It was time for his tempering techniques to receive an upgrade. Chapter 31 - The Lake Underground cave systems after Earth¡¯s integration into the interspace had become a rather terrifying area to venture into, and if Faralethal was any indication, this seemed to be the case for any planet scattered with passages. Numerous portals leading to different realms frequently resulted in unwanted pests, invasions, diseases, and other problems that created a volatile environment. Camp Violet had their hands full trying to manage this volatility, and a particular area they had encountered was an excellent example of a problem that simply couldn¡¯t be resolved¡ªa place that had predominantly remained a red zone, frequently referred to as the Wastes. There were no notable ore deposits, plant life, or value to be extracted. Something, likely an invasive species or some other form of natural phenomenon, had combed through this underground section and stripped it of pretty much everything worth taking. During the relatively recent early days of the camp, when this area was first discovered, it became a rather popular hiding place for numerous wannabe rebels and other troublemakers. And the administration obviously hadn¡¯t allowed that to continue. In a relatively open cave, a match between two men, a short, scrawny old man and a tall, muscular youth, was nearing its end. The burly youth was winning, but honestly, the old man had every advantage from the start. His talent, which allowed him to temporarily extend the reach of his weapons, and his air affinity made him a good counter against the taller fire-affinity arch. Unfortunately, just like most who fought in this shitty ring, the old man was nothing but a cowardly fool, and his bout ended with a predictable, shameful loss. Among the crowds, seated in one of the higher rows of stone roughly formed into seating, a silver-haired man gazed down on the fight with his light blue eyes, scoffing at the display. His unusually healthy skin glistened under the torchlight as he lifted the canteen to his mouth and took a sip of mystery moonshine some random idiot had sold him earlier that day. It tasted pretty good, even if it was lightly poisonous and likely to cause cataracts if consumed frequently. He noted the face of the drink¡¯s seller and put it aside for now, leaving the judgment of what to do with the man for later. As far as any of the people sitting beside him and cheering like rabid animals knew, Peter was just another indentured servant sent to the mines, even if his status as a two-star arch, of which there were very few on this expedition, set him apart from most others. In reality, Peter, as well as over half the two-star archs disguised as ordinary workers, was one of the employees of the expedition, even if his presence here was something of a punishment, too. His task was simple¡ªbe wherever most trouble was brewing, and most importantly, carefully observe. This entire arena was orchestrated by the camp administration itself because the devil you knew and all that stuff. Given how large the caves were, there was no chance they could stop all the rule-breakers. Allowing them to gather in a place with ¡°loose¡± surveillance made the administration¡¯s job far easier. It also worked to keep these animals entertained and served to boost the morale of¡ª The arena suddenly erupted in cheers as the fight Peter had been paying no attention to came to another embarrassing conclusion, and the man sitting beside him jumped up, swinging his arms. The man¡¯s wild flailing caught Peter¡¯s forearm, and the moonshine was promptly ejected from his hold. He shot the man a death stare, but the cheering spectator was too busy wailing like an ape to notice it. With a resolved sigh, he lifted the half-spilled drink off the ground and took a hearty swing. Sure, his performance at work could have been better, but had his work really been bad enough to deserve being sent to this place? Sighing, he slumped in his seat. How far he¡¯d fallen. He was no legendary figure of his generation, but he did reach the third year of the Isilon Academy. Only a third of all students made it that far, and that was only among those who actually made it into the academy to begin with. Watching these thugs fight it out felt like the highest form of torture imaginable. Although¡­ he was treated to an¡­ interesting match every so often. Earlier that day, he witnessed the fight between one of the ¡°promising rookies¡± as they called him and a man named Freddy Stern. The scarred figure was still being discussed among the spectators, and even he had to admit he was somewhat curious. He had been at least interested enough to hop back to the camp and check the man¡¯s documentation. What he found, however, was not what he expected to see. Name: Freddy Stern. Age: 22 years old (Archhuman for 8 months.) Repayment period estimate: 15 to 20 years of labor. Sentenced for: [CLASSIFIED INFORMATION] This was the only person in this entire expedition who had the reason for their sentencing classified. If that wasn¡¯t enough, there was practically nothing even remotely notable about this individual. Formal education: None. Faction: None. Achievement history: None. Nothing. Even his water affinity and 1% Lifesteal talent seemed bland, even if they were somewhat surprising. Peter had been confident that this man had the earth affinity and perhaps a talent that specialized in defense. Even his extensive education in abilities left him utterly bewildered about what the man did in the fight against his opponent. Was he a practitioner of the Abyssal Depths tempering technique? But given that he was a one-star, he couldn¡¯t have become heavy enough to absorb all the momentum of such a strike. Besides, he was sure the man had used a Flowing Strike on his opponent. Using Flowing Strike with the added density of Abyssal Depths would be the act of an absolute lunatic. Not only would such a combination result in absurd backlash, but the cost of using Flowing Strike would skyrocket at higher ranks, making it both wildly expensive and severely self-destructive. But the most surprising thing was something he only noticed on his second scan through the document. This person had been an archhuman for only eight months. Not only that, but nearly six of those eight months were marked as being spent in captivity. This mystery gnawed at him, and he knew he couldn¡¯t get his mind off it until he reached a moderately satisfying conclusion. With that, he finally turned to the man¡¯s talent. No¡­ That probably didn¡¯t have much to do with anything. Even if this was the first time he saw a talent that directly converted damage to healing, many talents healed the user upon killing an enemy, and while there were some exceptional talents among the type, most were useless. If one needed healing, they probably couldn¡¯t stand on equal ground with their opponent any longer. If they couldn¡¯t stand on equal footing with their opponent, they couldn¡¯t fight and activate their talent. And even if they managed to win the fight, their talent only worked once they no longer really needed it unless they had suffered life-threatening injuries, which could have been prevented if one had an offensive, defensive, or movement-oriented talent instead. The only scenario where they tended to thrive was against many weaker opponents with high offensive capabilities, but in that case, physical, mental, and soul exhaustion became the bigger problem. Even if his specific talent somehow circumvented all of these problems, it wouldn¡¯t have been much use during the six months of captivity, and judging by the state of the man¡¯s body, the healing quality couldn¡¯t be higher than natural quality. Actually¡­ Peter cupped his chin as he thought about it. What if he had minimal-quality healing? True, even with only a 1 percent conversion rate, that would provide enough healing to keep the man alive through most injuries that weren¡¯t immediately lethal. This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Suddenly, everything felt like it had slid into place. For the first two months of his journey as an archhuman, this man had likely spent his time fighting in either a weaker realm or an artificial environment. That would explain his unusually potent abilities and confidence in combat. Actually, Peter had only presumed that the man¡¯s injuries were a byproduct of torture. What if they were, at least partly, a byproduct of reckless monster hunting? The gears were spinning, and a grin appeared on his face. If one sprinkled in a mysterious supporter to explain away the classified part of the documents and took the lack of background and the absurdly long sentence into account, one would have a pretty clear picture of what was happening. This man was likely the disciple of a political enemy of the Kraven Clan. And now that he thought about it, his performance in the fight could have been a complete fluke. If he had used Flowing Strike, it wasn¡¯t impossible that the momentum of the ability had canceled out his opponent¡¯s strike entirely by accident. While enduring the backlash of such an interaction was impressive, it probably wasn¡¯t much compared to all the other injuries he¡¯d suffered. Perhaps his deduction was wrong, but he doubted he was far from the truth. Either way, this man¡¯s existence suddenly became much less interesting. Thoughts of the mysterious Freddy Stern were shelved away into the vast collection of minor curiosities he had spotted during his time here, and he refocused on observing yet another boring fight. As the two combatants entered the field, numerous murmurs spread around the seats. After all, one of the two combatants was a two-star¡ªbut he hadn¡¯t been just a few days prior. Peter supposed an example hadn¡¯t been set in far too long as he mentally jotted the man¡¯s name down on the execution list. And at that moment, a stray thought struck him. If Freddy Stern was the disciple of someone important, there had to be something promising about him. And if there was something promising about him¡­ Why the hell was he allowed to join the mining expedition? *** The sounds of stone crumbling echoed through the moist caves as Freddy launched another Flowing Strike at the wall. Notably, he didn¡¯t bring any mining tools, so his bare hands were put to the task. His fist landed with a crack, and finally, another small rock broke off, widening the hole just enough for him to crawl into it. He put the lantern ahead of him to light the path, and a grin appeared on his face as he spotted the shimmering reflection. As he forced his way through the tight, slippery stone and lifted the lantern, his eyes finally saw what he had been looking for. A small lake sat in a giant, empty chamber. The trickling of water down the stalactites hanging above accumulated in the body of water, and for the most part, the growth wasn¡¯t overwhelmingly thick. It still smelled incredibly mossy, and every surface seemed slippery, but it was nothing that would impede him for long. After glancing at the small tunnel he had crawled through, he shifted a large stone to hide the entrance. The place he found himself in was in a red zone¡ªa wet and relatively poor one. Nobody besides water archs would intentionally head here, and even they would likely avoid it to not attract suspicion that they might be looking to gather or evolve abilities. This made the area relatively desolate, but even then, he wanted to be careful not to get caught in the act. He placed the kind-of-stolen lantern on top of a rock and scouted the nearby area. There seemed to be no other paths into this cavern. Something of a rocky shore surrounded the entire lake, even if it was too uneven and slippery in most places. Going into the water itself was out of the question, and he would ensure that he stayed as quiet as possible until he confirmed that the water wasn¡¯t festering with monsters. That being said, he grabbed one of the larger stones and threw it across the lake with the help of Flowing Strike¡¯s momentum. It smacked right into the water¡¯s surface, and a few anxious seconds later¡­ nothing appeared. Throwing stone after stone revealed that, at least, nothing was itching to jump out of the lake to devour him. That was good enough for now. Focusing on appearing on the shoulder of his body, he entered the Netherecho. The thickness of the water wisps surrounding his body made him feel almost as if his entire projection was submerged in water. Quickly focusing on peering through it, his vision revealed precisely what he had been looking for. A small fountain cheerfully danced around. A tiny water snake scurried through the air, swimming in loops and coiling around other vestiges. A small angry cloud chased a three-legged fish around while something akin to a merman swung a trident at a cracked rock with water endlessly flowing out of it. As expected, regardless of which shell he focused on, most vestiges felt like they could slot right in without much trouble. And thankfully, no remnants were anywhere to be seen, at least not within the radius of his perception. Now, it was only a matter of making a choice. Four abilities were waiting for an upgrade. He only knew what he wanted for two of them. Create Water would be, as was the best choice, coupled with a generic water concept. This would simply make it produce more water that would cost less essence and be easier to control. The second was Abyssal Depths. He just wanted compression for it. Either generic compression, liquid compression, or water compression. He would stack all three eventually, so it didn¡¯t matter which went first. This was where it got tricky. He didn¡¯t strictly need Water Body anymore¡ªnot the standard version, at least. Its most popular version was the one that enhanced physical recovery by utilizing the life from water concept. Needless to say, that was pretty redundant with his talent. Which begged the question¡ªwhat should he do with this ability? Simply discarding it wasn¡¯t out of the question, but that felt like too much of a waste. Given that he had no real inspiration, he decided to go with his gut and see what he could find. He had little to lose, and if it turned out to be crap, he¡¯d remove it. Which finally left him with Hundred Wet Hells and a massive problem. The guide to developing Hundred Wet Hells was ten times more expensive than the scroll. Needless to say, information on it wasn¡¯t readily available. Now, while he had little to lose with Water Body, Hundred Wet Hells was essential. It was his only ability with a genuinely synergistic relationship with his talent, and losing it would hurt even more than using it. But he simply had no clue what to do. However, he decided to put it out of his mind. Hundred Wet Hells could wait until he finished the first three abilities. By then, he would at least have a better idea of what concepts he was dealing with and at least some experience with evolving abilities. Ensuring that no remnants lurked on the horizon, he jumped down to the relatively isolated fountain vestige. It danced around while humming a tune, and he tried befriending it by dancing along. The instant he stepped next to it, however, the vestige screamed bloody murder. What the¡ª His mind whirled while he barely jumped out of the way of a burst of water. ¡°Horrible creature!¡± the fountain yelled. ¡°Deceitful little liar. You seek to poison my¡ªack!¡± Suddenly, the creature had to stop as it found a giant trident embedded into its side. ¡°You vile beast!¡± another vestige yelled from a bit further away. ¡°Will you ever stop disturbing the peace of my kingdom!?¡± the merman vestige asked, clearly intent on fighting the fountain. ¡°It¡¯s you again!¡± the fountain screeched at the top of its lungs. ¡°You you you you! Will you ever learn that water must flow to be¡ª¡± ¡°Silence!¡± the merman yelled as it jumped forward. The animosity between the two didn¡¯t go unnoticed by Freddy. This was his chance. He worked his projection¡¯s throat to adjust his voice, then lifted his scythe at the fountain, speaking in a whispery, sinister tone. ¡°You are an enemy of peace and shall be exterminated.¡± ¡°Wha¡ª¡± the fountain turned from the merman to him, clearly flabbergasted. ¡°Hrrrrrnuuurggh, that¡¯s enough!¡± The water that flowed through the fountain unabated suddenly stopped, and the main body of the vestige began to bulge, clearly preparing a large burst of water it was still deciding who to direct it toward. Before it could decide, however, the merman jumped on it, pulling the trident out and preparing to bring it down. However, it was in a terrible position and found itself exactly where the blast of water was about to be sent. A pressurized burst of liquid smashed through the merman¡¯s shoulder, blowing its entire arm off and pushing it back. However, before the fountain could do much more damage, a scythe appeared, slashing its back open. The vestige whirled, but he was already bringing his weapon down again, this time point-first at the vestige¡¯s face. The fountain used its small, rocky hands and grabbed the scythe by the blade before it could land. It began bulging again, preparing another burst. That¡¯s not good! He panicked as he pulled on his scythe but found it stuck in the creature¡¯s grasp. Losing one¡¯s soul construct was a big deal. They took nearly half a year or an ascension to recreate if lost. However, before he had to decide whether to let it go, the merman slammed into the fountain shoulder-first, sending it tumbling to the side. The blast it had charged up missed, harmlessly splashing over the ground. He finally found the leverage to wrench the scythe back, slicing through the fountain¡¯s fingers, and with a panicked slash, he made a large gash down its body. As water flowed through the cracks, its body suddenly unraveled into a collection of earth and water-affinity wisps. Those wisps didn¡¯t merely flutter away, however. Instead, half of them flowed to the merman, and the other half made its way into Freddy¡¯s soul. The earth-affinity wisps turned into pure ether, with most of the actual power lost in the process, while the water-affinity wisps effortlessly seeped into his soul, joining the roiling mass of ether that comprised his star, pushing it to 57% completion. His projection¡¯s heart was beating out of its chest, and he couldn¡¯t stop himself from constantly looking around in panic. Every inch of his existence begged him to return to his body, but he knew there wasn¡¯t much reason to. Besides¡­ The merman¡¯s arm regrew as the wisps seeped into its body, and it grabbed its trident again. Standing proudly on its fishy tail and looking in the direction of where the lake should be, just slightly out of Freddy¡¯s limited field of view, it turned to the tiny form of a blue reaper. Freddy stood, facing the prominent vestige as it smiled at him and said, ¡°Thank you for your assistance, little reaper. May I have your name?¡± Chapter 32 - Gains In the splotchy Netherecho of the caverns, thick with water, darkness, earth, and mysterious wisps Freddy didn¡¯t even recognize, a transparent snake of coiling water morphed through the air, shifting and shuffling above the painted ground as it made loops in a set pattern. Suddenly, a pointy blue trident whistled, catching the fluid snake by its tail. The weapon didn¡¯t remain embedded in the liquid body for long, but even once it dropped to the ground, the pattern of shifting water was clearly not as smooth as it had been. The snake hissed as it turned to the culprit who injured it, ¡°You beassst! How dare you disturb¡ª¡± But before it could finish its sentence, a faint blue outline of a scythe coiled around its neck and pulled down, slicing the stream of water apart and unraveling the creature into the wisps of ether that comprised its existence. Freddy dropped to the ground, clumsily grasping at the blue scythe as he did his best to prevent his projection from shaking in excitement as another flood of ether poured into his soul. That had been the cleanest kill Stillness and he had executed thus far, putting him at 60% progress with his star. Indeed, he thought. Stillness, the trident-wielding merman obsessed with the concept of liquid stillness, made for one hell of an ally. The vestige in question trod over to its weapon, plucked it from the ground, and stood tall, proudly scouting the area for more disturbance to quell. He had used the vestige¡¯s nature as being attached to the concept of ¡°liquid stillness¡± to convince it to partner with him by playing the role of ¡°death.¡± Indeed, corpses were quite still and made no habit of disturbing bodies of water. He managed to get the merman to go on a crusade through some bargaining. Allying oneself with vestiges was a common practice. If anything, facing them directly was the least common way of handling them. Personified ether constructs were extremely powerful compared to the might of an arch¡¯s projection, and getting a bit creative was practically indispensable, even if one had a powerful soul construct. The only people who went out of their way to challenge the residents of the Netherecho in ¡°fair¡± mortal combat were lunatics who were trying to get themselves killed. Liquid stillness as a concept didn¡¯t have much use to him. It would be excellent with Water Walk, Water Shield, or Manifest Water Weapon, but his abilities weren¡¯t suitable for it. So, a tentative alliance had been the most he could get out of the situation. Stillness, however, wasn¡¯t Bloodshed. This thing had no attachment to loyalty and servitude, and it wasn¡¯t a person, he thought to himself for the hundredth time. It was not a person. He had to make doubly sure not to forget that. It wouldn¡¯t take much for it to arbitrarily decide that he had to die, so throughout all their fights together, he kept his eyes on the merciless merman just as much as he did on any of their opponents. Speaking of which, he hadn¡¯t had much luck. This was an excellent opportunity to try and snatch an upgrade, but his efforts hadn¡¯t borne any fruit so far. Most of the vestiges they had stumbled across were either too unpredictable to take a chance on, their nature was too unclear, or they weren¡¯t suitable for any of his abilities. But damn was this an effective way to grow one¡¯s star. Not a single other time until then had he made so much progress so quickly. He had tasked Bloodshed with clearing the Netherecho for him, but having a higher degree of participation seemed much more effective if one wanted to progress past a bottleneck. Given the risk to his life, it made sense. His first star was roughly just above halfway formed, and he was already reaching a point where he could see its completion on the horizon. Taking his mind off his growth, he refocused on the task at hand¡ªdeciding which target to hunt next. He stood as far as he could from Stillness without risking annoying or aggravating it and simply observed, allowing it to pick its next target. The less he got involved, the lower the odds were of it turning on him. ¡°Hmph,¡± Stillness scoffed as it raised its trident. ¡°Over there.¡± He turned to face the direction it was pointing in and quickly spotted their next victim. It was an almost entirely non-descript blob of water that shifted and morphed as it moved what appeared to be rough, limb-like appendages to traverse around. Even without interrogating it, he already knew what that thing was. His sleeves shuffled slightly, and an ominous wind blew beneath the hem of his robes in a colorful display of what seemed to be barely restrained excitement. That was the generic concept of water¡ªthe exact thing he needed for an optimal upgrade for his Create Water spell. ¡°Very well,¡± he answered briefly as they approached their target. Stillness lifted its trident and threw it forward when they stepped into range while he broke off to flank their opponent. Surprisingly, the mass of water flicked the weapon out of the air, and he found himself backing away just as the creature prepared to break his fragile projection apart. After dodging the limb by a raindrop¡¯s worth of distance, he stepped away and raised his guard. Stillness growled. ¡°Why is it that you move?¡± it asked indignantly. ¡°It is your sacred duty to remain undisturbed!¡± The blob of water didn¡¯t necessarily look at Stillness, but he could feel its attention turning to the merman nonetheless. Then, with a deep, gurgly voice, it spoke. ¡°Stillness¡­ flow¡­ equally make me whole.¡± ¡°Blasphemy!¡± Stillness screamed as it recklessly charged forward. Lifting its fist into the air, the merman prepared to lunge, but a massive tentacle of water slammed it upside the head, stopping it dead in its tracks and slamming it into the ground with a puff of cartoony smoke. Uh-oh. This vestige was powerful. It was likely close to turning into a remnant. A burst of water slammed Stillness¡¯s torso, and he could see a visible indentation appear. Capturing a vestige of this power would give him a slight starting boost to his stage one Create Water, but would have no other benefits. On the other hand, if Stillness lost, this thing would likely become a remnant, and he didn¡¯t like his chances of victory or even escape in that scenario. A nearly arm-like appendage sprung out of the vestige¡¯s body and slammed at Stillness¡¯s ribs, pushing the merman to the side and leaving it bent over. Spotting the opening, he decided to act. Rushing forth, he grabbed the unequipped trident and threw it toward Stillness. The merman managed to catch it out of the air, and immediately, it swung the weapon down, slashing at its opponent¡¯s side. The trident faced a heavy defense as a giant bubble of water protected its target, but at that moment, Freddy appeared from the other, unprotected side, swinging his scythe down in a wild arc, leaving a giant gash of splashing liquid behind. Instantly, he felt the vestige¡¯s attention turn to him, but at that moment, Stillness was already thrusting again, this time piercing through and doing some damage, and as the vestige was distracted yet again, he flicked another quick swipe, and this time, backed away. That was all the help he could safely provide. After that, if Stillness won, he would be set, but if it lost, he could remain far away enough to escape unharmed. Standing at a healthy distance from the confrontation, he ensured that nothing else would barge into the fight as he observed the brutal battle between two vestiges. Chunks of one and the other broke off repeatedly, and he was sure that Stillness wouldn¡¯t be the one to come out on top. Not if it were fighting alone. The water that comprised the body of the general concept of water sloshed chaotically as it struggled to muster another attack, but it was still doing far better than its opponent, who was practically falling apart. As it prepared to strike, however, the blue reaper suddenly appeared, slashing his scythe across its body. He fumbled his swing, leaving nothing but a shallow cut, but it wasn¡¯t meant to be anything more than an extra precaution. The little reaper focused, turning his attention within as an intense force prepared to rush out of his soul. Within moments, a small ball of ether runes comprising a closed shell appeared before him. With an ear-shredding pop, it burst forward, smashing into the vestige. One blue, ethereal chain after another sprouted along its body, and as it resisted, several snapped and broke off. He winced at the echo of agony that flashed through his soul, but he endured, forcing the chains to tighten. The aquamarine shackles responded to his will, and within moments, the chains extended into his projection and rapidly dragged the vestige into his soul. As the mass of liquid shrunk and spun out into the vast emptiness of his ethercosm, the fight was already over. The shell of Create Water wrapped around it, and in mere seconds, it was fully encased in a prison of shimmering ethereal runes. A pulse of soothing energy washed over his soul, and when observing from a distance, the little speck of blue that orbited his star grew bright enough to see without even having to focus on it. Bringing his attention back to the Netherecho, he quickly scouted the area, ensuring his safety. The only vestige nearby was Stillness, and it was in horrible shape. Indeed, with him so greedily stealing the entire vestige for himself, Stillness was left without the ether needed to recover the damage it had suffered. It was vulnerable, and for a moment, still riding the high of his recent success, he wondered whether he should take a chance with it. He felt all three remaining shells, including Water Body, resonate with this concept. It could work. But¡­ after letting the thrill wash over him, he cooled his head and thought about it. He practiced Flowing Strike. His repertoire had no room for Stillness. ¡°Tell me, little reaper,¡± it said, half its body missing and its trident broken. ¡°Did we calm the raging tides?¡± With a slight nod, he stepped forward and cut the merman apart at the waist, unraveling its body and absorbing the flood of ether. A short moment later, he was out of the Netherecho and back in his body. He slumped a bit as he slowly breathed out. ¡°It wasn¡¯t a living thing,¡± he muttered into his chin, reminding himself. ¡°That wasn¡¯t Bloodshed.¡± With a deep sigh, he put such thoughts aside and focused on something more substantial. His soured mood lifted slightly as he raised his hand and used Create Water, his first stage one ability. Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. A burst of liquid, enough to fill a massive bucket, flowed out, and he found that he could control it with so much more ease. He used to be able to manage around the size of a large droplet, perhaps as large as a human eye. Now, he could handle a blob the size of an apple. He reduced its size just a bit to gain more freedom over it, then summarily proceeded to flex his essence control as much as he could. With each new movement he tested, he could feel hundreds¡ªno, thousands¡ªof latent ether shells materializing in his soul. What had once been an utterly imperceptible collection of several pieces of vaguely blue debris had now turned into a sizable misty cloud of pale aquamarine, giving the inside of his soul a glow that reminded him of the vast night sky. Every one of those shells held a specific movement, a peculiar intent, and could be developed into a full-fledged ability through repetition. Granted, the overwhelming majority were useless, comprising mere minuscule variations of super-specific uses of essence manipulation, but it was still a sight to behold. The cave he was still in was predominantly empty, beside the rocks and the water, making it a nearly perfect location to practice. And there was one ability he had been waiting to create for the longest time. The water affinity was notoriously bad at non-martial-arts offensive abilities. Those who became water spellcasters usually only did so if their talent could cover the offense. Those who kept true to a purely offensive style throughout their first star had a high likelihood of attaining the ice affinity upon ascending to their second star. Attaining advanced affinities wasn¡¯t guaranteed, however, making it a risk few were willing to take. Most water casters specialized in supporting roles¡ªanother area water excelled at. But that didn¡¯t mean that water had no offensive spells. Several outliers shone through at higher ranks, such as Dehydration or Turbulent Wave, but one ability stood out right from the start. Freddy lifted his hand, opening his palm away from his body. Then he focused. Stage zero Create Water was limited in function, as were most stage zero abilities. It simply created a set amount of liquid without any shape, and only once that water was created could it be manipulated with essence. Having the general concept of water within changed the situation drastically. While he still had a maximum of water he could produce in a single use, he could manipulate the minimum as freely as he wanted. With intense focus, he concentrated his Create Water in the center of his palm. The water shrunk into a tiny ball, and as soon as he tried pushing more water into it, he was already sweating from exertion. Not long after he started, his control faltered, and the concentrated ball of water was disrupted, splashing all over his palm, down to the ground, and into the air. While that was a far cry from what he had been trying to do, it was a surprisingly good first attempt. That gave him hope that he might just be able to do it. Pressure Jet was the single most potent stage zero offensive water spell. Sure, it had numerous shortcomings, such as its limited range, an insane essence cost, and difficulty in obtaining the ability. But if one was solely talking about its damage, it was top tier, even compared to other affinities. A concentrated jet of high-speed pressurized water had been one of the most efficient methods for cutting things back on Old Earth. And that power, when taking the form of an ability, was precisely what he wanted as part of his repertoire. If it weren¡¯t for his soul construct¡¯s Essence Extraction, he would have outright been an idiot for entertaining acquiring both Hydraulic Flex and Pressure Jet while still being only a one-star. It still wouldn¡¯t be easy, and it would take a long time, but his decent essence recovery at least gave him a fighting chance. While he had been planning on spending the rest of the day practicing his abilities, he just now realized how tired he felt. There was no 1% Lifesteal to keep him from physically wearing himself out, and it was clear that his battered body needed some work. He decided to test something out. Pulling out the knife from its sheath, he slashed at a few mushrooms. The rush of Lifesteal was invigorating, but¡­ pretty much as soon as he stopped, the effect disappeared, so he continued. He went at it for a while, but realizing he had to stop didn¡¯t take long. The complexion of his skin was changing quite rapidly. He hadn¡¯t done anything too noticeable, but he could tell his skin appeared less¡­ ill. He sighed. The problem with supreme-quality healing was that it split equally between all bodily injuries. In that short time, it had done little to nothing for his internal problems but had already managed a noticeable impact on his outward appearance. While many people instantly averted their gaze upon seeing him, just as many stared openly. The workers weren¡¯t allowed to wear masks or use other methods to conceal their faces, as per the rules written in the rule book. If he overused his talent, it wouldn¡¯t be long until people realized his appearance was changing. If people realized his appearance was changing, they would wonder why. Desperate folk were an ugly sort. If someone who had an injury or other health problem saw him suddenly improving, they wouldn¡¯t go, ¡°Oh, golly gosh, that disfigured bloke is healing! I am so happy for him!¡± No. They would go, ¡°Those scars are disappearing. He has access to supreme-quality healing. I need supreme-quality healing.¡± Then, they would approach him and ask how he did it. He would have to fuck them off because, obviously, he couldn¡¯t use a self-healing talent on others. Of course, they wouldn¡¯t go, ¡°Ah, sorry mate, I really thought you could help me out! Shucks, that is unfortunate!¡± No. They would go ¡°This bastard is hiding something from me.¡± Because they had nothing to gain from believing him. To them, the reality in which Freddy was a liar was the only one where they still had hope of finding a solution to their problems. So they would pry. They would ask over and over. They would spread rumors, threaten him, and even possibly outright assault him to try and find an answer. And once they concluded that there was nothing there, they would be disappointed. Angry. Envious. If I can¡¯t have it¡­ this bastard can¡¯t have it either. There was a reason why he had decided to remain a loner for so long. Hell, the only reason he even interacted with James and Sharon was because those two were genuinely the nicest people he had met. Even then, he kept contact to a minimum. The only thing misery loved more than company was creating more misery. The despondent kept each other down almost desperately, fearing nothing more than seeing those they cared about succeed without them. If he wanted to make a full recovery, he needed two things¡ªa plausible excuse for how he did it and the power to protect himself from those who wanted him to share. With a resigned sigh, he decided to head back to the tent. The feeling of using his talent had left him with a reinvigorated resolve. So, he walked over to the large stone and pulled it back. It was demanding, and he felt his elbows, shoulders, back, and knees scream in protest, which he summarily ignored with the cold mercilessness of a dictator commanding his soldiers to march in the cold. As he crawled out of his little hiding spot and closed it up from the other side, he turned around and started his long trek back to the camp. It wasn¡¯t that far away, but a few kilometers could feel like a marathon when walking through an incredibly inhospitable set of caverns and tight passages. But as he started his way back, it didn¡¯t take him long to realize he had a problem. His body¡¯s protest¡ªthe one he had been ignoring this whole time? Yeah, it seemed to have turned into an all-out rebellion. With a sudden cramp and a visceral tearing, he felt the part of his right leg around his shin tighten, with a few small clumps of something appearing just below the knee. ¡°Uuurgh, what the¡ª¡± he screamed through gritted teeth. His foot was stuck in an awkward position, and with another searing bolt of pain, he felt his kneecap pop out of its socket and move down his leg. Another pained moan escaped his lips, and he felt the agony spread up his leg and over his hip, reaching his glutes and lower back. The thing with torture was that it wasn¡¯t just a matter of pain. Numerous incisions, pricks, different venoms, and drugs didn¡¯t just hurt. Everything that had been done to him had come with a set of consequences, sequela his body wouldn¡¯t recover from naturally. He¡¯d grown so used to ignoring pain, so complacent because of a perfect recovery waiting on the horizon, that he hadn¡¯t realized a crucial problem until that moment. The pain ravaging his body was screaming at him that something was wrong. And one such error had finally reached a breaking point. Another pained growl escaped his lips, and he finally couldn¡¯t stay on his feet. As he tumbled to the ground, the tendon that connected his crotch also tightened, and he could feel himself losing control over his other leg. Ignoring pain was more manageable when one believed it would have no permanent consequences. Spicy food could hurt as much as licking a hot iron, but one¡¯s reaction was far different. There was a notion of safety, a sense of security, in it being nothing but a benign sensation that would eventually pass. All forms of pain had become just that when viewed through the lens of his talent. But at that moment, when the agony signaled an inability to move in a deadly part of the caverns where few had a reason to venture, oh, it hurt. Suddenly, the pain was unbearable. His lips parted to scream for help, but he bit them to stop himself from making a sound. He was just as likely to attract the attention of something he didn¡¯t want finding him in this state. He instinctively reached for his knife without much thought and began slashing around through the mossy growth. It provided some relief. But it did virtually nothing to undo the catastrophe that was happening to his leg. With all the willpower he could muster, he had to stop himself from slashing further. Nothing short of a full recovery would put his knee back into place. And he hadn¡¯t prepared any bullshit excuses yet. He didn¡¯t have a plan. But he had no intention of letting anyone bully him any further. Thus, with gritted teeth and legs unable to move, he crawled back toward the camp. With one arm gripping a rocky protrusion, he tightened his core and shifted his left leg, pulling himself forward across the mossy ground. The agony and panic made every second feel like a century, and he could barely even tell the passage of time. His torso was stuck crawling along the floor, so his clothes got caught on sharp edges more than once. The work uniform was made to be tough, so it wouldn¡¯t tear easily, but as long as he was wearing it, he would hold little hope of making progress past the nooks it would get caught on. Rolling himself over, he unzipped his uniform and pulled it down, taking it and the metal-plated boots off, remaining clothed in little more than a solid piece of underwear. As he continued onward, he quickly noticed the difference that protection had provided. Without it, his body scraped along jagged edges, and while he wasn¡¯t bleeding much, his torso was constantly bruising and hitting against hard surfaces. Something slimy crawled along one of his legs. A quick glance down revealed that it was a giant centipede, and he was forced to pause and wait for it to leave him be. Just as it was about to leave, his leg cramped again, and the small jolt spooked the creature, causing it to instantly whirl and sink giant fangs into his skin. ¡°Fffffuuu!¡± he swore through gritted teeth. Ignoring the creature, he pushed onward, and it eventually decided it was done ¡°defending itself¡± as it scurried off into the distance, leaving him in even more pain. Up steep ledges and down tight paths he went, several times coming into contact with either yet another venomous critter or a poisonous plant that shouldn¡¯t be touched with bare skin. The call of his talent begging to be used whispered into his ear. After all, at this rate, he might very well not make it back to the camp. But he denied the temptation. If he healed fully, going back to the camp was impossible anyway. One part of the cave was terribly cold, freezing even. Another was so sharp he would have bled out had his skin not been so tough, and yet another cave was filled with nasty fungus and plants that definitely shouldn¡¯t interact with bare skin. Every time, however, every step he made forward only grew more confident and determined. But while the spirit was willing, the body was well past wrung out. His grip faltered, and the longer he went, the harder it became to breathe. His sight grew blurry, and his hearing was even more muffled than usual. How far out in the caves had he been? What were the odds of not having encountered a single person so far? Could he have made less progress than he thought? Or were the other workers simply ignoring him? Eventually, however, the hubbub of human speech reached his barely conscious mind. For a while already, he wasn¡¯t following the signs but simply trying to move forward in hopes of getting to someone. Several figures he couldn¡¯t identify through the daze lifted him off the floor. ¡°Get him to the medical tent,¡± he thought he heard someone say. That was enough. With that, he finally allowed the deep dark to whisk him away. Chapter 33 - Forager Incentives Freddy woke up in an almost entirely dark room, disoriented. It took his sight a few moments to snap into focus, and as it did, he observed the filthy, draping tarp cloth that comprised the ceiling of what appeared to be a dingy, poorly lit tent. A strange, startling noise came from his side, making him jolt as he tried to turn to face it, but his entire body, which he just then perceived to be wrapped in bandages from head to toe, hurt at even the mention of movement. It didn¡¯t take long for him to identify the muffled sounds as pained groans, and once the profoundly pungent medicinal smell finally kicked in, it didn¡¯t take long to extrapolate where he was. He would have sighed in relief if he could have drawn more than a short, pained breath. Someone had dragged him to the medic tent, and now he was recovering. Immediately following the relaxation of safety was an intense sense of dread. He somehow doubted that this service would be free. No, he knew it wouldn¡¯t be. That wasn¡¯t the problem. What frightened him was how this scummy camp would try to extract that payment. Thoughts of that were for later, though. He needed rest for the time being. A raking cough caught his attention a moment later. It was so violent that, for a moment, he was concerned that someone was in the process of kicking the bucket. Surprisingly, however, the coughing came from someone who was approaching him. ¡°These damn spores,¡± an old man¡¯s voice said, forced through a tight throat and followed by a long gargle and the sounds of spitting. ¡°Oh, hey,¡± the voice continued, and a moment later, a lanky figure hung right above his face. It was a man on the cusp of ripening into early old age. It was rare to see someone who was presumably an archhuman appear so old. Usually, such people had become archs later in life or ascended long ago. This man was bald on the top of his head and had a rough, weathered face and an incredibly pronounced mustache, despite, as he judged by the long, stringy patchwork of an unshaven ¡°beard,¡± struggling to grow facial hair elsewhere. ¡°You¡¯re awake¡­ right?¡± the man asked, waving an arm before his immobilized head. He moved his head in an affirmative nod, a movement he struggled to make against the layers of restraints and, with all the strength he could, mustered a meek ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°Good. Let¡¯s have you checked out.¡± The entire world suddenly lurched as the man effortlessly picked up the bed he was lying on. A short, dizzying journey through a few tent flaps later, he was finally placed back on the ground, right about ready to throw up and die. What followed was one of the longest half-hours of his life. The old man carefully examined his condition, and to do so, he had to peel off the numerous layers of crap that his body had been constrained in. The air grew smellier with every piece of cloth the medic removed. The mix of stale sweat, greasy skin, blood, pus, and rot made him wonder how long he had been out. But bandages weren¡¯t the only thing wrapped around his limbs. Wooden splints kept his entire body from moving, and his right leg, which betrayed him in the caverns, was tied up in wires, keeping an intricate construction of metallic pieces together. His body felt quite numb for the most part. Sensation, along with his good old friend pain, was slowly returning to his limbs as he felt blood flow freely again. Once everything was finally pulled out, including the numerous needles placed along his right leg, crotch, and right side of his lower back, he realized how bad his situation really was. His entire torso had scabbed over, and since it was already just a massive scar, it probably wouldn¡¯t look much different. Looks weren¡¯t on his mind, however. He could feel it. His legs were functional, for whatever that was worth, but he knew they would hurt with every step, and he wasn¡¯t sure how many of those he could take. ¡°Young man.¡± His attention was snapped away from his body as he turned to face the doctor, medic, or whatever this man was. The man pulled a chair over from a corner of the tent and sat beside him, staring deep into his soul. ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± He smiled guilelessly and committed to several practice coughs to test his throat before finally saying, ¡°You should probably already know that.¡± ¡°I do,¡± the medic confirmed. ¡°I would still like to hear you introduce yourself.¡± He paused for a moment, then humored the man¡¯s request. ¡°Freddy,¡± he responded. ¡°My name is Freddy Stern.¡± ¡°And how old are you, Freddy?¡± ¡°I¡¯m twenty-o¡ªno, uh¡­ no, yeah, I¡¯m twenty-one years old.¡± ¡°You seem unsure,¡± the old man inquired. ¡°Let¡¯s just say,¡± he said with a dry laugh, ¡°that it feels like a lot more than a year has passed since my last birthday.¡± The man chuckled a bit, but his expression betrayed that he probably didn¡¯t find that funny. ¡°Well, nice to meet you, Freddy. I¡¯m Frank.¡± ¡°Let me hear it, doctor. What¡¯s my situation looking like? You can be Frank with me,¡± he joked. ¡°Real funny, young man,¡± he said with a cheeky smirk. ¡°Maybe you¡¯re doing better than I thought.¡± ¡°But seriously,¡± he interrupted with a severe expression. The old man sighed. ¡°Besides the fact that your body is in a severe state of deterioration, with several ailments simply waiting to ripen, your condition is stable. For now. As you already know, you¡¯ve had a life-threatening emergency, and as such, the cost of your treatment was added to what you already owe.¡± He couldn¡¯t stop himself from chuckling at that. ¡°Something funny?¡± the doctor asked. ¡°I just find it very amusing,¡± he said honestly, ¡°how the severity of my condition matters more in terms of money than it does in terms of actual health.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± the old man said, not sharing his amusement. ¡°I¡¯ll get to that part in a moment. Your physical condition is bad. And it will probably get worse before it gets better. But you do have your limbs mostly intact, so that¡¯s a plus, and as far as I¡¯ve seen, you aren¡¯t at much risk of permanently losing any critical bodily functions in the short term. Or at least you wouldn¡¯t be under normal circumstances.¡± His face turned sour, and he could smell terrible news brewing behind the medic¡¯s stormy expression. ¡°Your uniquely large debt, coupled with your partially disabled body, has forced the pieces of shi¡ª¡± He coughed. ¡°I mean¡­ the executives to vote on a one-time ban for you. You are partially barred from further emergency treatment.¡± ¡°Uuh¡­¡± He stared unblinkingly. ¡°What?¡± The doctor continued without pause, ¡°You were judged ¡®extremely unlikely¡¯ to repay the total sum of what you owe, so you will no longer be allowed to incur a further deficit, not even if your life is at risk.¡± He said that last part with such a palpable disgust that he wondered why this man was even working here. Before long, the old man continued, ¡°You do have one option, though. If you consistently deliver more than twice the daily quota, you can be allowed some credit, and if treatment is needed, you can repay a second loan on different terms parallel to the primary debt you owe the company.¡± Well, that sucked. Even without hearing the man out to the end, he could tell where this was going. ¡°So basically, I¡¯m forced to work twice as hard if I want to have rights to emergency treatment?¡± With a scoff, the medic nodded and frowned deeply. ¡°Exactly. And with your body, working harder will only increase the odds of you needing it to begin with.¡± He thought about it momentarily, and¡­ well¡­ that wasn¡¯t that bad. Something about the way the old man put it made him curious. ¡°I have a quick question for you, if you don¡¯t mind.¡± The man nodded, and he continued, ¡°You said I can be given credit if I deliver more than the daily quota, right? Can I spend that credit elsewhere? On, let¡¯s say, non-emergency treatment?¡± he probed. ¡°Bad idea,¡± the doctor dismissed it out of hand. ¡°While preventative action would be wise, you need at least some credit open in case of another emergency.¡± ¡°Well, I don¡¯t have to blow all my credit on emergency treatment,¡± he argued. ¡°Do I?¡± ¡°That depends. You could take a longer repayment period with significantly worse interest.¡± That actually sounded like a great solution. The debt was total bullshit anyway; why would he care how long it took him to ¡®repay¡¯ it? ¡°What if I had like two and a half times over the daily quota in credit?¡± he asked. The man sighed and planted his forehead on the palm of his hand. ¡°That much work wouldn¡¯t be easy to sustain even if you weren¡¯t disabled.¡± ¡°All right then¡­¡± he mused aloud. After a few seconds of thinking, he decided he might as well just ask the man outright, ¡°What would you advise me to do if I wanted to heal as much as possible?¡± ¡°Pray for a miracle.¡± He rolled his eyes at that. ¡°Realistically, I mean.¡± ¡°That is the most realistic hope you have,¡± the man stated bluntly. But Freddy kept staring at the man eagerly, waiting for a more legitimate answer. For a good, long moment, the medic simply stared back at him. And then, the tiniest of smiles shone through his stern expression. ¡°You know¡­¡± he started. ¡°I won¡¯t lie to you, Mr. Stern. You¡¯re in a uniquely terrible situation. But¡­¡± After his gaze crossed Freddy¡¯s battered, scarred body, he added, ¡°You¡¯re one tough bastard, aren¡¯t you?¡± Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. He shrugged. ¡°Moping and crying about it won¡¯t help. So I might as well see where I¡¯m standing.¡± ¡°Well,¡± the doctor said, ¡°I suppose I¡¯m about to go on a break, and there are no emergencies to handle. I guess I could give you a few pieces of advice.¡± *** A few days later, the mandated minimum of rest Freddy was provided ran out, and he was forced to return to work. He was far from ready for it, but he had no choice. Within the next few days, he was forced to come to terms with¡­ well¡­ a lot of things. First, his leg hurt like a bitch, and that, according to the doctor, wasn¡¯t a good thing. So, he had to do his best to keep it safe. The second thing he had to come to terms with was that he had to work with other people. Out in the yellow and red zones, it was high-risk, high-reward. Find a good spot, get some good ore, and it didn¡¯t take much work to fill the daily quota. The green zone, however, wasn¡¯t like that at all. It was streamlined, the roles were clearly defined, and, worst of all, the profit was split as equitably as possible. One of the main reasons he didn¡¯t like the prospect of socializing here was that most workers wouldn¡¯t survive. Making friends whose lives were on a timer sounded like a great way to saddle oneself with unnecessary emotional baggage. Fortunately¡ªin a morbid way¡ªhe didn¡¯t have to be worried about that. But the thing with splitting profit with people you didn¡¯t intend to befriend was that people sucked. Especially badly when stuck slaving away with their lives at risk. At first, most of the other workers kept their distance from him, but as they habituated to his strange presence, it wasn¡¯t long until the mistreatment began. He had shown himself more than capable of pulling his weight, but the reflex reaction of most miners was to go, Ew, this fucking cripple is taking part of my money!? What is this, a charity!? As was unfortunately expected. Needless to say, having to repeatedly prove that his part of the profit was earned and not donated to him out of pity was frustrating to no end. And it was especially difficult to prove that his daily wage, which was always at least twice the daily quota, had no foul play behind it. On top of that, most of the people here were so incompetent that even a ¡°cripple¡± could do a better job. As he had repeatedly proven, those with disabilities didn¡¯t deserve to be compared to these absolute wastes of oxygen. The mistreatment and prejudice he could deal with. Rude customers had long conditioned him to that in his previous line of work. But the incompetence was killing him; several times, almost literally. On not one but three separate occasions, just within the first few days of work, someone¡¯s mistake nearly cost him an injury. He couldn¡¯t carry the loads, so he was stuck swinging the pickaxe. His coworkers¡¯ haste in extracting ore frequently left the overhead stones poorly secured and unstable. He could hit like a damn transport carriage when he swung the pickaxe, so it wasn¡¯t rare to see chunks breaking off despite appearing relatively secure. He did his part of yelling at someone, anyone, to set the beams up when he saw the stone shaking apart from the walls, but his pleas would almost always be ignored, seen as nothing but the cries of someone who had to be babysat because he was ¡°holding everyone else back.¡± On one such occasion, one of the workers there lambasted him in a way that particularly reminded him of his old manager¡¯s drilling. The man yelled and accused him of stealing his part of the profit by lazing off. His response was initially calm and collected, but at a certain point, he just told the man to take the damn pickaxe and try swinging it himself. The man did as suggested, teaching poor little Freddy how a ¡°real man who feared no pebble¡± did it¡ªonly for the aforementioned boulder-sized pebble to come crashing down on the man¡¯s leg, turning it into a mushy paste. Not that long ago, he would have felt guilty for doing such a thing, but at that moment, if anything, he only felt regret that the man hadn¡¯t died. This got him into trouble with the staff, but there were plenty of witnesses to what happened, so he was let off the hook. People weren¡¯t quite so willing to bully him afterward, and a tinge of that initial wariness returned. Overall, based on what he saw within his first few days working with others, he was more willing to take the risk and just venture out on his own. It was probably safer, too. But¡­ his body wasn¡¯t thrilled with that idea. Carrying the load by himself was basically impossible. His right knee felt about ready to explode under stress, which meant that if he wanted to earn money through mining, the green zone was the best he would get. Getting sleep became increasingly difficult night after night as the pain worsened. His calves and quads cramped repeatedly, and his knee cracked every time he moved in his sleep, frequently waking him up with jolts of pain. Stopping himself from running out into the caverns and healing took more and more willpower each and every day that passed, and more than once, he asked himself whether hiding his supreme-quality self-healing was worth it. But the more time he had to think about it, the more confident he felt in his decision to hide it. This was in no small part related to another piece of advice he had received from the doctor. Frank, the medic, had given many helpful recommendations. But the vast majority was directed at how to keep himself safe and healthy¡ªexcept for one peculiar bit of advice that gave him hope. And a plan. *** After hearing of the incident that man had been involved in, Peter, the silver-haired poison master, was absolutely sure that would be the last he heard of Freddy Stern. The subsequent week he spent in a coma only reaffirmed that belief. As one of the observers, he naturally had to work in the green zone to keep his eyes and ears out for any talks of misdemeanor by the workers. So, naturally, he was among the first to find out when that man returned to work. Initially, he was convinced Freddy wouldn¡¯t last long with his injuries. Eventually, he would fall behind his daily quotas and get ¡°expelled¡± from the expedition. Not only did the man work to fill twice the usual daily quota, he did so consistently and with the work ethic and efficiency of a goddamn golem. Whenever he used his abilities, his swings held so much power behind them that Peter was left scratching his head for days. What the hell kind of martial art did this man have? He used Flowing Strike, which was obviously only stage zero, but its power was extraordinary. The medical report, which stated his body weight as being 21 kg above his height and body volume, revealed the trick to be in the Abyssal Depths tempering technique. That made this man an absolute lunatic in Peter¡¯s eyes, but for what it was worth, with his mangled body, the dangerous combo didn¡¯t seem to be taking much of a toll on the man¡¯s body. Did he also have Hundred Wet Hells, then? What a damn freak! His idle musings were interrupted as the lecturer called his name, and he got up. He was currently attending one of the lectures on foraging. The class was being held in one of the larger tents. The classes mostly covered elementary subjects such as locating herbs, primary extraction and storage methods, safety fundamentals, and so on¡­ For a highly educated nature-affinity arch with the Poison Master non-combat talent, this was on the level of returning to kindergarten and studying basic shapes. Which was precisely why he was performing the role of an ¡°assistant.¡± Truthfully, he was a lot more qualified to hold this class than the current lecturer, but he had his part to play as one of the observers. Foraging was only a tiny department in this expedition, and their work was secondary to ore extraction. But delivering alchemical products was expensive and, sometimes, impossible. Supplying the expedition with the necessary resources was crucial for its success. With such a massive point of failure, his work as an observer was essential to ensuring none of the workers caused trouble. With his finger pointed at the sizable cloth upon which the presentation was being projected, he gestured at the roots connecting two plants on a drawing and started explaining, ¡°As you can see, this root system creates a connection between the two herbs of entirely separate species. This is an example of a quasi-parasitic relationship. The bloodula fern doesn¡¯t steal any of the crown orchid¡¯s nutrients but instead injects it with a growth-inhibiting hormone. The way the bloodula fern establishes local dominance is quite fascinating. ¡°It achieves this through several means. First, it distributes toxins, temporarily paralyzing the surrounding plants¡¯ reproductive systems. Then, it inhibits their growth. But, interestingly enough, it actually doesn¡¯t aim to kill competition; quite the contrary. It uses the surrounding flora as a¡­¡± His words trailed off as the entrance flaps were suddenly pushed open, and a familiar figure stepped into the room. Several people turned around, and whispers soon spread through the confined space. Freddy Stern walked a few steps forward and paused as he scouted the inside of the tent. The seating area comprised rows of wooden chairs organized into neat lines. The crowd was considerably denser to the back of the room, and the only place one could find seating was in the two front rows. With little hesitation, he limped forward to the first row, the one right before the presentation, found a seat smack dab in the center, and plopped down, staring daggers at Peter as he waited for him to continue his explanation. ¡°Uh¡­ Where was I?¡± He scrambled to regain himself. ¡°Right, bloodula fern.¡± *** At first, Freddy was quite confused for several reasons. This class seemed to be a lot more advanced than what he was expecting to find. However, as the lecture continued, he eventually realized what was happening. Once it was done, he was the first to step up and approach the ginger-haired lecturer. ¡°Hello!¡± He tried his best to seem cheerful, but if anything, his forced energy made him sound somewhat insane. ¡°Hi! You are new to this class, right? Welcome aboard!¡± the man said, shaking his hand. If anything about Freddy made the man uncomfortable, he wasn¡¯t showing it. ¡°Thank you,¡± he responded, infusing his words with much less forced cheer this time. ¡°I was just wondering, is there any material I can read up on? It seems that I have some catching up to do.¡± The man briefly nodded. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about that,¡± he said as he turned around, walked over to a nearby closet, and pulled out a large stack of concise books. At the bottom of the pile was a relatively normal-sized guide, and the rest seemed to be editions of weekly reports. Without demanding anything in return, the man simply handed over the collection of reading material. ¡°The guide at the bottom is the bulk of the basics, and the rest are the reports we¡¯ve made about any new and unusual plants we haven¡¯t encountered before. If you encounter anything new, you could one day add to this knowledge yourself.¡± There was a naive joy to the man¡¯s explanation that betrayed the excitement of a scholar in his natural element. This dude was the happiest person he¡¯d come across here so far. Naturally, that could only mean that he was fucked in the head. Without further questions and with no intention of involving himself with this man further, he simply accepted the stack of books and left the tent. *** As he quickly learned by trying to attend all of them, there were many classes on foraging. There were three to seven a day, and the content ranged from repeats of basics to cutting-edge news regarding the discoveries of entirely new properties in never-before-seen species only found in these caves. For a while, his schedule effectively came down to working in the yellow zone, just out of range of the streamlined section, until he earned his daily quota and then returned to his tent to study. As he quickly learned, foraging was a rather unpopular activity. There were several reasons for this. It was difficult, time-consuming, dangerous, and had a steep initial learning curve that most weren¡¯t willing to push through. But the main reason was that it wasn¡¯t particularly profitable. This expedition was located in an area wealthy in ore deposits. Regarding alchemical ingredients, however, it was nothing special. The classes had many students who weren¡¯t foragers, including him for the time being. Anyone who attended all or at least most of the scheduled lectures was frequently rewarded with samples of alchemical products. Even though the caves weren¡¯t especially rich in potent plants, foraging was essential to the expedition. Resources were hard to supply and all that. So, the camp administration set up some incentives for those who wished to be foragers. The samples they were provided were subpar at best and outright failures at worst, but they still held considerable value to those with no alternative. He had little interest in stinky creams and potions that caused acne outbursts. He wanted the good shit. The real shit. The type of stuff they awarded to the most significant contributors. Sure, even if he acquired a ton of healing treasures, it would take God knew how long for him to fully repair his body. But he didn¡¯t need to do that. He only needed to heal his skin and fix his teeth, and 1% Lifesteal would take care of the rest. The supply crisis that the camp was under only reinforced his resolve to keep the specifics of his talent hidden. If anyone needed an infinite supply of body parts, it was a place like this, one where people were constantly losing them. For the time being, he had something to work toward. He had found a plausible excuse. He just needed more power. Chapter 34 - The Right Choice Despite only barely fulfilling the daily quota, Freddy felt dead tired. His body was struggling, and his constant abuse of it didn¡¯t help one bit. With a shiver in his arms and a lop in his gait, he waddled back to the camp. He visited the public ¡°bathhouse,¡± or, rather, the cleansing pond used for washing clothes and bathing. Enchanted with ether script, the water within had strong cleaning properties and made hygiene simple, if, admittedly, unenjoyable. The frigid liquid had an uncomfortable zap that left skin irritated, dry, and red. The pond was tiny and cramped, and using it was always coupled with rude, impatient shoves by those waiting their turn. After wrapping things up, taking a dump in the small underground cavern nearby, and returning to his tent, he donned his other uniform as he started his first day on his second job. The forager suit was quite different from the miner one. The focus was on light fabric and camouflage, with shades of green and brown dominating the entire get-up. In stark contrast to the steel-plated boots, he was provided lightweight rubber sneakers that dulled the sound of his footsteps. He put the foldable yellow sign on his belt, the one he was to use to quickly identify himself if he accidentally startled a worker, small scissors, a razor-sharp scalpel, a delicate trowel, and a large bag with an assortment of specialized containers in case he encountered any of the rarer plants. His regular dagger and baton for self-defense were naturally there, too. He also brought a small net he could use to capture rare flying bugs, but he was bringing it along as more of a weapon against critters that bit and stung than a tool to catch them. With that, he was set. His walk back out into the caverns was a painful ordeal, and he wondered whether he could get away with a bit of healing. When the agony became unbearable, he took out his knife and nicked a few juicier mushrooms. The small healing burst did nothing of use besides momentarily easing his pain. And that was more of a demerit than a cure since he relied on his sensation to judge whether he was pushing himself too far. Based on his recent experience, his leg was whatever the crippled equivalent of ¡°a bit tired¡± was. He had perhaps enough juice for a short foray into some yellow zones. For foragers, abandoned yellow and red zones and the edges of black zones were the only places to consistently find good herbs. Since mining was the main priority of the expedition, flash-burning newly discovered caves was the primary way to clear them. It was the safest way to claim unexplored areas, and plants naturally weren¡¯t a big fan of it. Even then, the areas nature had reclaimed primarily had the more common specimens, as the rarer plants took much longer to sprout or only did so only under a complex set of conditions. Making his way past the heavily populated green zone, then through a tight series of verdant-fungus-dominated caves, he walked into a yellow area, notably near the hidden lake he had discovered previously. It wasn¡¯t the best place to forage, but he might as well look for vestiges while already out. The moist caverns were a terrible area to spend time in. The stale, mossy stench, intense humidity, and a lack of solid, non-slippery ground to stand on made this place a living nightmare. The thoughts of progress with his abilities had made him forget that the slimy stone of this cave would be challenging to traverse with his leg¡¯s state. As expected, mushrooms and moss were this area¡¯s primary source of exciting herbs. The butterfly crown was the most valuable fungus he could locate. It was a golden-wing-shaped shroom, lined with intricate patterns and a waxy, glossy surface. It smelled of pine and old oil. Overall, foragers had a considerably lower daily profit requirement, having to earn only around a thousand dollars to fill their quota. Even with that fact, it was still more challenging than mining. Not to mention that the lower pay deterred many who wanted to ¡°leave¡± as quickly as possible. The butterfly crown went for around forty to fifty dollars apiece. While that seemed quite pricey, one thing after another worked in tandem to make actually earning anything a monumental pain in the ass. First, extraction was a delicate process. These had a visible, green-tinged seam along the middle, which was practically the only place they could be cut without leaking all the juice they held in their bodies. To make matters more complicated, that seam was a thin, wiggly line that, in some mushrooms, had gaps, making it impossible to extract them. They could still be removed from the wall altogether, but that wasn¡¯t a perfect solution. The mycelium led deep into the stone, and too much damage to it could cause the mushroom to rapidly wither and lose all its properties. With that in mind, as well as the fact that the extraction process, locating, and even just identifying precious herbs took time¡­ Yeah. If it weren¡¯t for the incentives, he¡¯d take swinging shit at a wall any day of the week. He started cutting, and immediately, 1% Lifesteal kicked in, as expected. His gentle, methodical extraction was far from enough to make any noticeable impact on his body. Until he accidentally nicked one of the shrooms. White juice immediately began flowing out, and he was startled to realize how much more significant that burst of healing had been than those he usually got when just cutting. The effect was instantaneous, meaning that a long-held question of his finally received an answer. Causing bleeding didn¡¯t produce a sustained heal, but it did seem to impact the overall amount of life force he received, meaning that his talent still registered the injury as more significant. It wasn¡¯t long until he noticed that not all shrooms were made equal. Some had a notably higher impact on his talent, and he presumed that meant they were more ripe or something. After cutting only seven mushrooms, three of which he ruined by accident, and storing them by simply throwing them into the bag, he allowed himself a quick break beneath one of the lanterns. Just doing that much had winded him since he had to stay focused for several minutes as he performed the incision along the seam. The bigger problem was staying still in uncomfortable positions. The light source illuminated the narrow corner of the cavern he was resting in, and the moist, smooth rock wall shimmered like an assortment of jewels, momentarily mesmerizing him with its beauty. Sweaty, tired, and in complete agony, he decided he was safe enough to take a break. He needed one, too. He literally couldn¡¯t afford a repeat of what happened last time. Slumping against the wall and closing his eyes, he entered the Netherecho. ¡°Oh, come on,¡± he said in an annoyed reaction to the immediate appearance of a big pile of shifting rocks¡ªa giant remnant. As his star grew, the range he could actively perceive when entering the Netherecho expanded. This remnant was along the outer edge of his field of view, which put it at a comfortable distance, but no amount of space was enough when faced with something that could poof him out of existence if it had any form of ranged attack. With half his focus on the rocky mass of ether, he briefly scouted the nearby area for interesting vestiges. The regular assortment of water, dark, earth, metal, and so on was present, with several charred vestiges likely originating from the burning of nearby caves. One among them stood out. Not for a good reason, though. A fish with muscular, human-like legs was dancing right beside where his body was resting, isolated from all other vestiges in the area. Goofy-looking ether constructs were far from a rarity, but this was among the few that nearly made him audibly laugh. Not that he¡¯d risk offending it by doing so. As he observed the vestige in action, something unusual caught his attention. Every water vestige had a certain degree of resonance with his ether shells. This had nothing to do with how ¡°good¡± a choice the vestige was for a particular ability, but it was instead an indication of how closely connected it was to the concepts within. For example, his Create Water had positively vibrated in response to the generic concept of water; in that case, it had been an excellent choice. But there were numerous examples where slotting in barely passable ideas into an ability was the secret to making it work, such as fitting sharpness into Create Water Weapon. What caught him off-guard was that this vestige resonated with not just one but all three of his tempering techniques; and not a little. All of them were buzzing in resonance as much, if not more, than Create Water had with the generic water vestige. Was this perhaps a concept of tempering? A single glance at its appearance was enough to conclude that likely wasn¡¯t it. So¡­ what exactly was it? Let¡¯s find out, he thought. Keeping an eye on the pile of rocks, he took a leap down and landed just a bit away from the dancing fish. He approached it by dancing along, and this one, luckily, didn¡¯t take offense to him copying it. Unfortunately, it seemed to like it a bit too much. ¡°Mmmm,¡± it purred in a deep, manly voice. ¡°The perfect specimen has arrived. Your seed will be optimal for¡ª¡± Before it could finish its sentence, he was bolting toward his body. Moments later, he was out of the Netherecho, shivering in fright. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Having nearly avoided the most traumatic experience of his life, he was keenly aware of just how much he missed having Bloodshed around. Well then¡­ Fish with legs, mating dance, optimal seed¡­ Resonance with tempering techniques¡­ Hmmmm, he mused internally. He felt confident that he knew what that thing was. It ticked too many boxes for it not to be the case. It was likely the concept of evolution. If one really stretched it, tempering techniques could be defined as a method to forcefully ¡°evolve¡± desirable traits. A more effective internal water cycle, denser body fluid, and greater internal toughness were the three traits he was ¡°evolving.¡± This left him wondering¡ªexactly what would the concept of evolution achieve? Would it be something similar to the generic concept of tempering? Or maybe it would be more specific or even more generalized than that? Either way, he didn¡¯t know. He wasn¡¯t willing to gamble with Hundred Wet Hells, and he already knew that compression was best for Abyssal Depths. After a quick visit to his ethercosm, he stood before the empty shell holding his Water Body tempering technique. This was among the most widely used abilities, especially among non-combat water-affinity archhumans. One would be hard-pressed to find a water arch that didn¡¯t have it in at least some form. For those who fought for a living, growing this ability down its standard¡ªhealth-improving generic water or life from water¡ªroute was a luxury. Most frequently, people evolved it into a temporary combat boost or a strength or endurance-enhancing tempering technique. He didn¡¯t have the knowledge needed to shape this thing into something optimal. But he knew that there was a trap in how it worked. Some of its paths directly clashed with Hundred Wet Hells. He didn¡¯t have a guide to tell him which concepts to use or a mentor who would advise him on the best path. For all intents and purposes, no matter what he did, he was shooting in the dark. Might as well try his luck. ¡­ Yeah, but he would have to tackle that horny fish somehow, wouldn¡¯t he? With an open-ended plan, he dove back into the Netherecho. The fish was still dancing near his body, and he thought he knew what to do. Preparing himself mentally, he yet again danced his way to the fish with bulky human legs. ¡°Mmmm, my sweet, sweet lover has returned to me,¡± it said, exuding passion. ¡°Mmm, yes, you scrumptious little thing. I shall devour you whole.¡± This shit isn¡¯t fucking worth it, was the only thought he had as he snaked his way closer to the vestige. Just as he stepped into range and the fish spread its nasty, hairy legs, he swung the scythe and cleaved straight through one of the limbs. ¡°Aaargh! You are terrible at foreplay!¡± the fish exclaimed as it toppled to the ground. That was it. Now, all he had to do was¡ªsuddenly, a giant stone flew past his head, and he had to duck with all he had to get out of the way. The rock smashed into the fish¡¯s body, leaving it almost entirely disabled, just on the brink of unraveling. Shit! Something he had done caught the attention of the remnant, and without much hesitation, he conjured the ether shell for Water Body, flung it at the fish, and ran before the absorption process could even finish. The giant mass of rocks was barreling toward him at an abnormal speed, and with only a fraction of a second left, before it could crush his projection, the ethereal chains finished dragging the vestige into his soul, and he returned to his body. He opened his eyes with a panicked start and immediately looked around for threats. As he realized that he was safe, he calmed a bit. A centipede was slithering on his leg, but he grabbed that bugger with a pinch and flung it across the room. The merciless beating of his heart sent sharp pangs of pain through his knee, and with a sigh, he got up, preparing to head back to rest for that day. He wasn¡¯t even close to his quota, so he would have to use one of his off days. Even as he got up, his tempering technique was in the process of evolving in his ethercosm. As the process finished, a soothing sensation washed over him, and he managed to calm himself a bit. While he wanted to test his new ability, it was time to head back to safety first. His way back down the caverns was arduous. As he exited the tight tunnels and strode into an open area, a ragtag group of four approached him. Oh, for fuck¡¯s¡ª ¡°What¡¯s up, man? You¡¯re that scars guy, right?¡± A tall, lanky man with buck teeth smiled down at him. At his side were two shorter men, both clearly physically capable. He wouldn¡¯t rate their physiques as those of dedicated martial artists, but they definitely had the looks of long-time manual laborers. Neither of those three caught more than a cursory glance from him. Standing slightly behind the other three, the fourth man gave off a very different vibe. He was of average height, perhaps a bit taller than himself, and had long, black hair and a scruffy beard. His green eyes were sharp, much like a predator¡¯s, and he, unlike his compatriots, didn¡¯t look like a pushover. The other three kept trying to ask him questions, but his gaze didn¡¯t leave the approaching man for an instant. Even though this man was a one-star arch, he instinctively knew¡ªthis person was dangerous. ¡°Howdy, partner!¡± the man greeted him, his cheerful tone contrasting with his intimidating body language. Given that the other three men shut up immediately, it couldn¡¯t have been more evident that when this man spoke, others listened. ¡°You¡¯re one of them foragers, right?¡± He simply nodded. ¡°Heard you got injured recently,¡± the man said. ¡°I¡¯ve seen your match in the Wastes. Shame you can¡¯t make a return,¡± he commented with what was probably intended to be a pleasant smile but looked more like a sneer. ¡°Say¡­ would you mind cluing a brother in?¡± ¡°What do you want to know?¡± he replied calmly. ¡°What¡¯d you do in that fight?¡± Deciding that there was not much point in hiding it, he answered, ¡°Timed Flowing Strike to counteract the momentum of the attack.¡± The man thought for a moment, then frowned. ¡°That¡¯s some shit, ain¡¯t it?¡± Then, with a scratch of his head, he asked, ¡°You¡¯re serious? Impressive stuff. Real shame you won¡¯t be coming back.¡± ¡°Is that meant to be a threat?¡± he inquired cautiously. ¡°No, no, God forbid!¡± the man denied vehemently as he waved him down. ¡°I¡¯m just making an observation.¡± The man¡¯s eyes closed into slits. ¡°You¡¯re in no state to get beaten up.¡± Freddy just barely stopped himself from biting his lips. As soon as he realized what was happening, as if on cue, the man continued. ¡°Say¡­ you must have realized it too by now, right?¡± ¡°Realized what?¡± ¡°This camp,¡± the man stated with a derisive sneer. ¡°The scam ¡®healthcare,¡¯ the expensive food, billing us for equipment damage¡­ the fines for the tiniest misdemeanor¡­ I¡¯ve been here for much longer than you greenhorns, and I¡¯ve seen close to no one leave. Usually, those with highly efficient non-combat talents or with minimal debts make it¡­ but the rest of us? ¡°They keep hammering us down with debt after debt¡­ after debt¡­ until we have no hope of ever paying it back,¡± the grizzly man spat, oozing spite and hatred. ¡°This work is nothing but suspended death row.¡± ¡°Look,¡± Freddy interrupted. ¡°I¡¯m pretty tired, and I have to go get some rest. Chatting with you guys was fun, but I should get going.¡± The men looked at each other briefly, and the leader cocked his head at him. ¡°You foragers get¡­ special privileges, I hear, right?¡± ¡°Yup,¡± Freddy confirmed. ¡°Creams, potions, pills, injections, all sorts of stuff. What, you guys looking to trade?¡± he offered openly. They all hesitated briefly. ¡°Yeah¡­¡± the man said slowly. ¡°I guess you could say that.¡± ¡°Well, what are you offering?¡± Freddy asked as he crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. ¡°You supply us with goods. We give you a spot in our crew.¡± He cupped his chin. ¡°And what will this crew of yours do for me?¡± ¡°Look,¡± the man said, shifting his posture a bit. ¡°I can tell that you¡¯re skeptical, and I get that. But you know it already. With a body like yours? You¡¯re fucking dead, dude,¡± he declared bluntly. ¡°Hell, we¡¯re all probably dead men walking. Why not take a chance? Work together? If we get enough people on our side, we¡¯ll stand a chance at overthrowing the camp.¡± ¡°Uh-huh¡­¡± He nodded. ¡°Well, I guess you have a point,¡± he answered. ¡°But what if I said no?¡± The subtle shift in their stances told him all he needed to know. If he said no, he would die. If not right where he stood, then soon enough. ¡°Well¡­¡± The man sharpened his gaze. ¡°We wouldn¡¯t be delighted to¡ª¡± ¡°Actually, I¡¯m in,¡± he agreed instantly. ¡°You guys are right. I¡¯ve known it for a long time. It¡¯s just that my talent is no good for combat, so I thought¡­¡± They suddenly relaxed, and the head honcho stepped up to place a hand on his shoulder. ¡°I get it. We¡¯re all scared. But don¡¯t worry,¡± the man said with an easy smile. ¡°You just have to supply us with goods, and I promise you, whatever you give us, we¡¯ll pay it back tenfold when we¡¯re out. I swear my life on it.¡± Then he shook his hand. ¡°Just make sure you don¡¯t, you know¡­ accidentally reveal anything to anyone. The guards aren¡¯t going to act without enough proof of what we¡¯re doing, but we will make sure that word doesn¡¯t get out.¡± And then, with a subtle tightening of his grip, he added, ¡°No matter what we have to do.¡± They shook hands and soon parted ways. Freddy returned to the camp, sold the four shrooms he acquired for little money and no special benefits, and immediately headed to one of the official tents. He told them everything about the men who had threatened him, including their looks, plans, and everything else he remembered. In hours, an investigation was launched, the men were apprehended and interrogated, more witnesses were found to testify against them, and by the end of the day¡­ Freddy stood in a crowd of workers, all scared shitless and stiffly observing the display. It didn¡¯t take much to get ¡°exiled¡± from the camp. Most probably knew that meant death, but there was at least some deniability. As the four men stood tied up, whimpering and crying, with their mouths gagged, he stared them down with a cold, unblinking gaze. The sleazy businessman Stephen White gave a short, cheesy speech about loyalty and integrity. And as soon as he was done, the men were beheaded to be made into an example of what happened to those who rebelled against the administration. He was granted a small favor of his choice for his show of loyalty. He requested that the ban on emergency treatment for him be lifted, and he was promptly granted this wish¡ªas well as extra credit for non-emergency treatment for his leg. Eventually, the sweet embrace of his tent greeted him, and he dropped to the ground, dead exhausted. His mind rushed back to a moment in his childhood¡ªsomething that hadn¡¯t happened for a long time. *** ¡°You shouldn¡¯t be afraid, Fred,¡± his adopted father said. That night, young Freddy sat on a short wall in the 26th district, observing the night streets with his dad. ¡°Many racketeers bet on the fact that you¡¯ll be too scared to report them to the authorities. There is always a chance that the cops won¡¯t act and you get stabbed, but the bastards threatening you will probably stab you eventually anyway. Don¡¯t be afraid to stand up for yourself.¡± With the gentle smile that he missed more than anything in the world, his father pet his head and repeated, ¡°You should never be afraid.¡± *** Freddy¡¯s eyes snapped open, having dozed off without realizing it. A pang of sickness spread through his body, and he forced himself up as he puked the barely digested slop sitting heavy in his stomach. The image of the men¡¯s beheaded bodies briefly flashed through his vision, but he pushed it away. His mind rushed to justify his actions, but he didn¡¯t care enough to excuse himself. All of it was pushed down. He just wanted to sleep. Usually, in moments like these, in the restless nights that gave him no peace, he wondered why they had disappeared. But in that moment, with his stomach acid burning the back of his throat, he finally came to terms with it. Abandoning a worthless piece of shit like him¡­ It had been the right choice. Chapter 35 - Assault Over the next few days, Freddy gradually got more comfortable with his new job. And in no small part, his newly upgraded stage one Adaptive Water Body was to thank for this. The upgrade had unexpected results in several aspects. When his Create Water upgraded, the outer shell basically didn¡¯t change at all, besides a few minor adjustments to the individual runes. Water Body had been a straightforward shell, barely more complex than Create Water. But the upgraded version¡­ What had once been a handful of ethereal lines stretched over an invisible spherical surface had expanded into an intricate mess of hundreds upon hundreds of runes, some overlapping, others connecting through wiggly, ghastly strings, and some shifting as he tried directly observing them. Freddy was ignorant about anything more advanced than the basics, so this newly formed shell left him utterly dumbfounded. Had that vestige been notable in some way? Or was the concept of evolution rarer or more complex than he¡¯d thought? People were meant to sense precisely what their ability did through a sort of intuitive ¡°soul sense,¡± but this thing was an absolute mystery. Sure, he could feel what it did, but he didn¡¯t understand it. The main problem was that¡­ well¡­ the shell was like a page full of text. But he could only observe the entire page at once without focusing on any of the words or only one word at a time. The problem was that he didn¡¯t know where the page started and where it ended, so he could only observe the words entirely out of order. No matter how he read it, even if he knew all the individual words, without order, there were practically infinite ways to arrange them. As he used his newly upgraded tempering technique, if he could even call it that anymore, he eventually got the hang of what it did. Mostly. His knee was still fucked up, but as he used Adaptive Water Body, he found it easier and easier to cope with. The caves that used to frequently cause headaches through their rapidly shifting temperature, the awful smells, and the probably-toxic fumes no longer bothered him. And finally, the horrid food that used to upset his stomach sat much lighter in his belly¡ªeven though he still decided to upgrade to the paid stuff when he felt he could afford it. It wasn¡¯t a healing technique. It did not make problems magically vanish. It simply helped him adapt to cope better. This ability enabled him to ¡°evolve¡± to better handle his current circumstances. The way it did so happened entirely through the way water moved in his body, and given that water made up most of it, it could do a lot. However, in principle, it was basically the exact opposite of a tempering technique. While a tempering technique aimed to force a body to fix a problem it introduced, this ability helped fix issues already there, making it an¡­ adaption technique? An evolution technique? This was the first time Freddy encountered anything like this, whether in practice or theory. He had his guesses about how it helped him adapt, such as supplying nutrients to crucial parts of his body, adding extra liquid, removing impurities, or whatever, but the truth was that the process was so complex that it might as well just be voodoo bullshit. While it seemed exceptional, it didn¡¯t come without its demerits. First, the essence consumption was intense. It both acted slowly and drained him quickly. Without Essence Extraction, this ability would be functionally useless until he ascended a rank or two. Second, while it did a great job of adapting him to his current circumstances, which he roughly felt to be based on the previous two to three days of his life, it raised an important question¡ªwhat would happen when he healed and left the caves? Did it mean that all the adaptation would effectively go to waste? If so, that would remove one of the primary benefits of a tempering technique¡ªthe permanent impact on one¡¯s physique. Still, he theorized numerous ways to utilize this ability and was already itching to give it another upgrade. Perhaps he could upgrade it with life through water or generic water. Even at its current stage, it did wonders for his productivity. His knee was deteriorating much slower now, and it hindered his movement way less than it used to. As he got more experienced with foraging, his daily income multiplied. There was the usual acquisition of experience, but his talent proved invaluable in maximizing his profits. Experienced foragers could tell how healthy a plant was through wilt, firmness, color, number of leaves, size of certain parts, and numerous other symptoms that betrayed an herb¡¯s condition and value. But there was little even experts could deduce about plants they knew little to nothing about. For Freddy, however, checking an herb¡¯s state was trivial. A single cut, or even just a tiny poke, was enough for him to quite literally feel how healthy, well, anything was. His 1% Lifesteal had a stronger response to organic matter with higher vitality. While rare specimens were a decent bonus, most of his income came from consistently retrieving high-quality common herbs. At first, the best he received from his efforts was half-spoiled, low-quality, ineffective, and otherwise flawed products. But not even a week into his new career, he was among the elite. Even though he stuck strictly to abandoned yellow areas, spending so much time roaming the caves maximized his odds of encountering danger. On four separate occasions, he had come within a hair¡¯s width of having to confront a monster. Two of those times, he had managed to escape before the monster could follow him. Once, he received timely help from nearby scouts, and last, when he found himself cornered, he somehow managed to scare a creature away by banging his baton against the wall and yelling like a moron. Funnily enough, he¡¯d somehow failed to see what he was even dealing with in every encounter, only hearing noises from behind a corner. As his value and the quality of his rewards increased, he finally began making noticeable progress in his recovery. He could choose what he wanted, so he requested a relatively ordinary selection of products, precisely what would be expected from someone dealing with his specific conditions. While he aimed to fix his skin to conceal the effect of 1% Lifesteal, he had to somehow justify why his overall condition was improving so rapidly. After finally breaking through $10,000 of income a day, he visited the medic station to receive non-emergency treatment for his knee. Nobody present was skilled enough to perform surgery on him, but there just happened to be an elite healer capable of providing him with supernatural-quality healing, just a single step below the supreme quality. This person was there to exclusively treat the staff, and no worker was¡­ meant to have access to their services. His little stunt of squashing a rebellion and his value as a top-tier provider of high-quality herbs seemed to have granted him some unique privileges. The administration had probably estimated that improving his productivity was a worthwhile investment. It didn¡¯t take him long to upgrade Abyssal Depths. Between liquid compression, water compression, and just compression, he discovered a liquid compression vestige first and unhesitatingly evolved his ability. It had maxed out at increasing his body weight by 30%, and now it could keep going past that, up to 60%. Hundred Wet Hells would have to wait, though. Nothing he found so far was worth taking a risk on. Soon, the days turned to weeks. Every single day, his skin appeared healthier. As he kept retrieving more and more quality herbs, the administration kept investing in him. And as his income increased, so did his non-emergency treatment credit, which he used to fix his missing teeth. The healer worked on regrowing his missing ear, ring finger, and toes¡ªhis testicles were unfortunately out of the purview of anything below supreme-quality healing. The treatment could help regrow the scrotum, but it would be little more than an empty sack. He still felt rather loud echoes of his previous state. But outwardly, every day that passed made it more difficult to tell that anything was wrong with him. The bit of healing he received from 1% Lifesteal while foraging was only enough to moderately boost his recovery. But it gradually accumulated. Eventually, the staff decided he was healed enough to stop providing him with the healer¡¯s services. That was the exact moment he had been waiting for. He quivered in anticipation as he went to a secluded area, carrying a machete on his toolbelt. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. He stared at the thick, verdant vines. His mouth salivated, and his entire body shook as he lifted the machete¡ªand brought it down. An involuntary whimper escaped his lips as he felt the intense rush of vitality. So he swung the blade again. All throughout his body, one after another, his numerous wounds healed. He felt a popping echo beneath his skin, a rubbery stretch in his muscles and tendons, clicking in his joints and bones, and a faint, electric tingle from his brain to the tips of his toes and fingers. The ever-present stiffness, the lumpy scar tissue, the numbness, the pain. As minutes passed and more of the cave herbs were sliced apart, it all vanished. The empty sack between his legs felt complete again, and he spit his fake teeth out one by one as his real ones grew back to take their place. As he finally stopped feeling the changes, he dropped the machete and wept, curled up into a fetal position in a dark corner of the cave. After all that time. After all that suffering. He was finally whole again. *** Janhalar stood in the middle of a busy street in the seventeenth district. Despite the thick crowd leaving little space for pedestrians, everyone who encountered him avoided him with a wide berth. He stood like an ocean predator among a flock of fish, with a near-perfect circle of personal space on each side. The patriarch of the Kraven did no such thing as disguising himself for the convenience of these animals. He kept his senses tightly focused on the items equipped on his person¡ªthe red robes, jagged dagger, and the pearled ring that strongly resonated with the unique remnant he was searching for. By this point, his eyelid had developed a permanent tic. Each moment he failed to find the goddamn unique, his fury rose to higher levels. It was still out there. The ring was proof of that. So why couldn¡¯t he find it? He¡¯d searched every area that lowly scumbag could have even theoretically hidden the remnant in. How was this situation even possible? They hadn¡¯t found a trace of proof that the unique had been stolen by Madame, Basilisk, or some other third party. So how had a barely sapient one-star ape managed to hide it? He cut that train of thought off, took a deep breath, and refocused on the task. Suddenly, his steps faltered, and he decided to stop there. This was his third walk through the entirety of Pittersville. The remnant clearly wasn¡¯t in the city. It was time to expand the search to a broader area. *** ¡°Huak! Hur! Huah!¡± Freddy exhaled with every strike he sent at the giant boulder. Each fist landed with a resounding crack, and his bare hands made swift progress in crushing the stone into a pile of pebbles. He was back in the hidden cave and, as he had long anticipated, back to training. His body felt divine. He ate much better recently and regained much of his lost muscle. That, combined with his newly upgraded Abyssal Depths, had likely pushed his body weight above 100 kg. And, oh man, did he feel the momentum behind his punches. Unfortunately, however, his Flowing Strike was growing quite slowly. He had pushed it around about 90% completion through his use while mining, but it had been a slow grind to get there, and by that point, it had nearly crawled to a stop. It wasn¡¯t hard to tell why that was the case. This was no utility or tempering ability. It was a combat skill, something he had to use in a fight to see it grow. If anything, how far he¡¯d managed to progress without battle was the impressive part. But he was in no rush to complete it. After all, it wasn¡¯t like he lacked abilities to work on. After stretching, healing a bit, having a snack, and briefly using his Adaptive Water Body, he got up and prepared to work on an ability he hadn¡¯t put any work into in a long time. The unfinished shell for Hydraulic Flex sat lonely in his ethercosm, still well away from completion. So, he got to work. After many hours of clumsily jumping and flailing his limbs, he was quickly reminded of just how ambitious his idea to produce this ability was. Hydraulic Flex was a high-level ability. Even though he had gotten a lot of practice with essence manipulation, manifesting it while still a one-star was quite the undertaking. If he was being honest, if he had any real talent for essence manipulation, with how much he¡¯d worked on it while being held captive, he should have already been much better. Thankfully, his soul construct was there to help him compensate. Even with his slow progress, he could afford to work on it as much as he had time for. Many hours of practice later, he was slowly starting to get the hang of it. A key trick, as he had discovered, was actually pretty counter-intuitive. Every time he used Hydraulic Flex, he, well, flexed. He would focus on the muscle while manipulating the water within and try to flex and flex simultaneously. Timing this was arduous, but he had long ago concluded that this was the key to making it work¡ªbut he was wrong. Using internal water manipulation to tighten a muscle also triggered the muscle¡¯s flexion reflex even without conscious thought. Relaxing the muscle beforehand was the trick to making it work consistently. This seemed obvious, but doing that wasn¡¯t an easy task. Not only was it counterintuitive, but it also clashed with a lifetime of muscle memory and basic instinct. Surprisingly, however, it took him much less time to get a hang of it. Perhaps all that time getting¡­ intimately familiar with the internal workings of his body had helped him develop greater control over it. Or maybe it was something else. He was just guessing, after all. Once bored of practice, he swapped with the other ability he was trying to attain¡ªPressure Jet. It didn¡¯t take him long to give up on it, at least for the time being. No matter how much training he put in, as long as he didn¡¯t have sufficient skill with essence control, he wouldn¡¯t be able to do it. No matter what he tried, he couldn¡¯t even direct the water into a measly squirt, let alone a compressed jet he could cut something with. He wouldn¡¯t stop trying to get the ability, but he would have to first turn his focus on his lack of control. After cycling between his tempering techniques, checking the Netherecho for something to upgrade Hundred Wet Hells with, finding nothing, and gathering a bit longer, he picked up the bag with today¡¯s haul and returned to the camp. He started his usual after-work routine. Selling his goods, organizing his stuff, cleaning himself, visiting the poop cave, and finally, eating. It turned out that the disgusting mystery slop wasn¡¯t the only meal on the menu. He could get much nicer meals in return for an increase to the next day¡¯s quota. A tasty mushroom stew, a rather expensive meal he favored, steamed pleasantly on the table before him. His spoon sank into it, and he hauled the creamy dish into his mouth. Indeed, eating the way he did set him back a noticeable sum. Several hundred dollars, actually. The price of food was hiked up to absurd degrees. What was pretty ordinary grub went for the price of luxury cuisine. Not that he minded anyway. He¡¯d prefer to postpone repaying his debt for as long as possible. ¡°Hey, it¡¯s that guy,¡± a voice rumbled behind him. ¡°Prick,¡± a nasal voice responded. ¡°Probably got that stew from Stephen Shite himself.¡± Ah, there it was. His meal wouldn¡¯t be complete without the not-so-subtle shit talk behind his literal back. The preferential treatment the staff gave him didn¡¯t go unnoticed. It didn¡¯t take long for the ugliness of despair to shine through. The overwhelming majority of the rumors surrounding him painted him as some sort of villain. Either a shady bastard profiting from others¡¯ hard work or an even shadier agent or ¡°paid actor¡± secretly working with the camp staff, or whatever. He had no doubt that first the workers he showed up in the mines, then his forager colleagues, were the ones spreading such bullshit. Either way, it was convenient for him. Be it his healing or other benefits, all of it was blamed on his connection to the camp administration. He got up as he finished his meal, and¡ªwith a splat, a handful of the disgusting, free slop landed on his neck, right below his ear. A few tables away, a rowdy group of men cackled in delight. Indeed, this, too, was a common occurrence. He didn¡¯t even bother wiping the food off as he walked away from the eatery. On his way back to the cleansing pond, a burly man intentionally bumped into him. Given his deceitful weight, it wasn¡¯t enough to topple him, but he decided to take the piss and collapse on the ground like a ragdoll. With a loud thud, his body landed on the nearby soil. Then, he got up. ¡°Hey,¡± he said, turning to face the man who bumped into him. ¡°Watch where you¡¯re going, pal. Touch me one more time, and I¡¯ll break your spine,¡± he threatened. His provocation didn¡¯t work. The man merely scoffed and walked away, appearing slightly rushed. He sighed. If only these cowards dared to do anything more to him. Fighting outside the arena wasn¡¯t allowed. Unless it was in self-defense, of course. He had no interest in returning to the Wastes for many reasons, the biggest being his bad reputation. People had enough reasons to hate him already. Losing to him in the arena might just earn him a few too many enemies. Going to the pond, he washed himself and returned to the tent. As he lay there, he didn¡¯t feel tired like usual. Sleep still tugged his eyelids, but it was the ordinary, healthy desire of someone who had spent an entire day awake, not the usual, sickness-and-pain-induced instinct for rest and recovery. There was nothing he wanted to do now that he couldn¡¯t do tomorrow, so he decided to¡ª A shuffling of his tent flap broke him out of his half-asleep state, and a large, burly arm rushed to grab his leg and violently pulled him out. His entire body lurched, and he was thrown on the nearby ground. Several men stood in a circle around him, but he was too dazed and confused to count them. However, it didn¡¯t take a genius to puzzle out what was happening. ¡°You¡¯re the one who snitched on Ross, aren¡¯t you?¡± one of the men squealed. ¡°You ratted him out like a bitch!¡± Before he could regain his bearings, a dagger was stabbed right into his thigh, and a baton slammed into the side of his head. He fully expected to be knocked out cold and reflexively fell to the side. It was almost nauseating when he realized he was still fully conscious, with little more than a headache and a light bruise on his head. ¡°Slit his throat,¡± one of the men said, and a dagger rushed to his neck. Simply by instinct, he raised his right arm and caught the blow, grabbing the man by his wrist and stopping the attack dead. ¡°What the¡ªaaaaargh!?¡± the man yelled as he squeezed and pulled, using his body weight as leverage to pull the man to the ground and throw him aside. The sharp pang of pain in his thigh didn¡¯t even cause a flinch as he got up to his feet. The wound wasn¡¯t even that deep. The other men immediately rushed at him. Chapter 36 - Public Enemy Freddy glanced at the five men rushing at him and the one still on the ground. They had all covered their faces in brown, make-shift cloth masks. Three had short, two had longer hair, and the man he toppled was bald. Before he could discern anything else, he simply turned around and started running through the maze of tents. ¡°Help!¡± he yelled. ¡°Help me!¡± he yelled louder. His thigh bled profusely. People rushed out of his way and past him, and his pursuers were hot on his trail. The tents rose high enough that one couldn¡¯t see above them, and they were packed tightly enough that maneuvering around them made for a dizzying trip. ¡°Get him!¡± one of them yelled. He grabbed and pulled anything he could get his hands on to slow the men¡¯s approach, collapsing a few tents and even people in his efforts, and while they were moving faster than he was, he stayed ahead, albeit not by much. Abyssal Depths made itself known as he struggled to make quick turns due to his increased body mass. Suddenly, with a sharp whistle¡ªand likely, talent-aided precision¡ªone of the daggers flew and struck his back. ¡°Ack!¡± It didn¡¯t stick deep, but it stalled him enough for one of the men to reach him with a baton, just slightly grazing the back of his head but hitting hard enough to blur his vision. He continued running, ignoring the pain, as he charged into a thick crowd of workers, ramming through them like a bowling ball, which even triggered a small response from his talent. For this purpose, his dense body was more than welcome. The mass of screaming, confused men presented a considerable obstacle to his pursuers. ¡°Stop! Where are you going!?¡± another of the assailants screamed, but Freddy had no time to see who he was referring to. Having turned once, then twice, and finally past another small crowd of workers on high alert, he thought he was safe¡ªuntil a knee suddenly slammed into his side, sending his heavy body tumbling straight into a tent, collapsing the structure on him and burying him in the thick cloth. ¡°Shit, shit, shit¡ª¡± He wheezed as he desperately tried to claw his way out of the heavy fabric. ¡°Don¡¯t worry!¡± someone screamed. ¡°I can see him!¡± A dagger stabbed right through the fabric, nearly getting him in the eye, but a quick reaction made it strike his forehead, luckily failing to pierce the bone but still sending him reeling. He lifted his hands to defend his face, and the dagger mercilessly shredded his arms, but thankfully, his Hundred Wet Hells¨Ctempered physique made the wounds too shallow to bleed him out¡ªbut they were accumulating fast. A second knife joined the first¡¯s efforts, albeit with far less precision, and eventually, the men shredded the cloth enough for him to pull himself out. Only three men were there, the two with longer hair and the bald one, but he had no time to contemplate where the others were. A man to his left lunged at him, and, with little to no grace, dazed as he was, he swung his right hand with a Flowing Strike, open palm, catching the man completely off guard with a near-perfect slap and knocking him out instantly. An attack he failed to notice in the heat of battle pushed through, and the bald figure stabbed his stomach. Reflexively, he swung a backhanded counterstrike, but this fighter proved to be much more experienced as he dodged back, out of the way of the attack, and made some distance, just in time for his companion to slam Freddy in the back of his head with a metal baton. He felt his skull crack, but it still wasn¡¯t enough to knock him out, so, with adrenaline-fueled rage, he grasped the man¡¯s weapon and then his arm, trying to push him to the side. Suddenly, it was as if the man was rooted in place, and, as a quick glance revealed, it turned out that he indeed was¡ªwith literal roots tying him to the ground, courtesy of a nature-affinity ability. Those same woody tendrils wrapped themselves around his own arms, and he was kept firmly in place as the bald man approached to finish him off. Left without much choice, he triggered a Flowing Strike and swung his head back full force. His physical weight, combined with the momentum of his ability, aided him in pulling the man out by his roots and into the way of the incoming attack, making the bald man accidentally strike his own companion. If he didn¡¯t have Hundred Wet Hells to prevent his brain from exploding, that stunt would have outright killed him. With the Flowing Strike pushing so much water into his head, he felt dizzy and lightheaded, with large black spots appearing in his vision. For a moment, he blanked out, and an instant later, he was on the ground with a dying man stuck on top of him. With an enraged roar, the bald figure pushed a dagger straight toward his face, and he barely defended himself by putting a hand in the way. The blade went clean through his palm and out the other side, nearly through his eye, and he gripped, preventing the extraction of the weapon. The man¡¯s attacks whistled as he decided to swing wind-boosted punches into his exposed side instead, but he failed to do any real damage. ¡°Die, you piece of shit!¡± the man screamed like a rabid animal as he kept throwing punches, grunting from exertion. After finally getting his other arm out from under the limp figure on his body, he grabbed the bald man and threw him over to the side as he crawled from beneath the other figure, still holding the dagger, together with his opponent¡¯s hand, in place as they both rushed to their feet. The man threw a punch at Freddy¡¯s face, boosting its speed considerably as it landed right on his cheek¡­ but failed to do any damage. The man threw another punch, and yet again, it was as if he hit a wall of tanned leather. His expression visibly paled as he tried to pull back, finally realizing that he didn¡¯t have the power to inflict any real harm with his bare fists. But Freddy¡¯s fingers held the man¡¯s hand tightly, the grip stronger than an iron vice, making escape impossible as, without any more grace than the bald man, he imitated him, throwing a flurry of punches, too frenzied to correctly time the Flowing Strikes. His fist landed on the man¡¯s stomach and face, but the failed ability nullified most of the force. The man tried defending himself with his other hand, only for Freddy¡¯s fist to shatter his wrist and palm. He rapidly ran out of essence with his wild swings but kept throwing ordinary punches that hurt far more than botched Flowing Strikes. His fist landed on the man¡¯s liver twice, winding the man and buckling him over just as a third punch struck his nose, shattering it into a bloody pulp, the strike after strike creating a constant flow of lifeforce into his body that wasn¡¯t enough to make any difference to his current state, but eventually, his fist struck the man¡¯s chin hard, nearly knocking him out. The man reached over to the ground and grabbed something. He was rushing to attack again, so he failed to notice as the man swung a massive iron tent peg right at his head, far too fast to dodge as the blunt weapon landed with a loud metallic clang and the crack of bone shattering. He was too dazed to defend himself as the man swung the peg again, hitting his neck. Just as the man raised the weapon once more, preparing a third strike, he reflexively raised his arm, blocking the strike with his forearm and grabbing the man by the arm. Holding both the man¡¯s arms, he pulled him in and slammed his forehead into the man¡¯s mangled nose. His opponent went limp and dropped to the ground. There was no rush of essence, so he knew the man wasn¡¯t dead. ¡°There he¡±¡ªsomeone yelled from Freddy¡¯s side¡ª¡°is¡­¡± He turned to face the three other men who had broken off at some point. The men¡¯s eyes flicked between his profusely bleeding form¡­ and their knocked-out comrades. He raised his back straight, ignoring the trickle of blood flowing down his body. ¡°Well?¡± he called. ¡°Are you gonna come at me or what?¡± ¡°He¡¯s bluffing!¡± one of them shouted. ¡°Get him while he¡¯s weak!¡± In response, he lifted the unconscious man up into the air and grabbed his neck. ¡°Take one step forward, and you can say goodbye to Baldy.¡± The men froze. ¡°Shit!¡± one of them yelled. ¡°Let him go!¡± He squeezed the man¡¯s neck harder. ¡°Or what?¡± He chuckled. ¡°You¡¯re gonna kill me? I¡¯m only doing this to spare myself the trouble with the staff. If it wasn¡¯t for them¡­ I¡¯d slaughter every single one of you.¡± That was very much so a bluff. In reality, he was so dizzy and light-headed that it took all the willpower he had to stop himself from wobbling on his feet. The stalemate between the two parties continued as people began gathering around them. Between three masked men and Freddy, who was bathed in blood, nobody was rushing to take a side. ¡°Shit!¡± one of the three men screamed as he broke off and started running. Seconds later, his two friends followed. As soon as the men were out of sight, he dropped the unconscious man and started walking, heading to the infirmary to get some treatment. ¡°Show¡¯s over, folks. Step aside.¡± ¡°Step aside where, you asshole!? You knocked my tent over!¡± someone from the crowd yelled. ¡°You bastards spilled my load on the street!¡± another person screamed. ¡°Half of it was stolen!¡± ¡°You¡¯re that goddamn scars guy, aren¡¯t you?¡± a long-haired man accused as he stepped out of the crowd and approached him, stepping right into his personal space as he pointed the finger at his nose. ¡°Everyone! This guy is a fucking snitch! That¡¯s why he¡ª¡± Before the man could continue, Freddy grabbed his finger and twisted, breaking it, and before the man could scream, he kicked him full force in the stomach, causing him to puke on the ground and then, unceremoniously, pass out in the pile of his own vomit. ¡°Either you get the fuck out of my way, or I move you out of my way!¡± he shouted at the crowd as he confidently stepped right toward them. A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Nobody else was willing to take any chances, and soon, a clear path was parted for him as he walked through it. He had lost a lot of blood. None of his wounds were deep, but they were severe enough to threaten his life. Gritting his teeth, with a wobble to his steps, he strode forward. Despite all the damage he did, his talent had been utterly useless in that fight. No matter how miraculous it was outside of combat, this was a reminder that it made practically no difference during a battle. For him, who had almost exclusively relied on it outside of combat until that point, it had seemed like a godlike power. Now, the weight of the tradeoff hung heavily on his mind. Nobody among those men had an awe-inspiring talent, allowing him to close the gap with pure power. But that won¡¯t always be the case. The soil beneath his feet was marred with bloody footprints, and while it was slowing down, his bleeding was still actively killing him. But he flatly refused to pass out. There was no way in hell that anyone would step in to help him. ¡°Whoa, what the hell happened to you!?¡± someone asked, but he couldn¡¯t muster the strength to turn around and face them. Silver hair and piercing blue eyes caught his attention, however, as the figure walked in front of him with his hands raised and offered to help. ¡°You¡¯re the¡­¡± This was the assistant who helped with lectures¡ªas well as one of his forager coworkers. ¡°Yeah, yeah, uh¡ª¡± the man said, eyeing his bloody body. ¡°Oh, man, you¡¯re bleeding pretty bad. We have to get you some help.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± he said. ¡°I can get there.¡± ¡°No, wait,¡± the man insisted as he crouched before him, back turned, offering him a piggyback ride. He tried refusing, but in trying to turn in a different direction, he fell over, draped over the man¡¯s back. With strange, almost practiced ease, the man lifted him up, and he surrendered. If this person was willing to help, he might as well take him up on the offer. While the man carried him rather confidently, his weight didn¡¯t take long to slow them down. By their journey¡¯s end, the silver-haired figure looked haggard, struggling to catch his breath and sweating profusely. Once they reached the tent, the man dropped him to the ground. ¡°Man¡­¡± he said as he blinked sweat from his eyes. ¡°You¡¯re damn heavy,¡± he observed, fighting to catch his breath. Soon enough, a medic brought him in, and his wounds were treated. As was the case every time something like this happened, a brief investigation was launched. He gave his side of the story and was left nervously waiting for judgment, unsure what witnesses would say about him. It likely wouldn¡¯t be flattering. To his surprise, however, the staff quickly deduced that he was innocent. Suspiciously so, actually. Could it be that they were leaning into the rumors that he was being favored so that they could bait those who wanted to target him? The cost of his treatment was waived as thanks for dealing with several troublemakers. One of the three he knocked out was dead, while the other two would be publicly executed. Given the rumors people were already spreading about him, he wasn¡¯t happy to hear that. The three men who fled hadn¡¯t been caught. Thankfully, his injuries weren¡¯t too complex. Nothing that wouldn¡¯t heal well enough on its own that it would make his talent suspicious. Only once he was left entirely alone to rest in the smelly confines of the recovery room did it finally catch up with him. Six men had assaulted him while he was sleeping¡ªand almost succeeded at killing him. He vividly remembered the crowd¡¯s reaction. Had his reputation really gotten that bad? Maybe the boss of his assailants was the person he had snitched on, but it could also be entirely unrelated. Even if true, what evidence did these people have that it was his doing? But, no¡­ these people didn¡¯t need proof or a solid reason to blame him. The rumors of the privileges he had been provided with were enough to make anyone suspicious. ¡°And it has to be me,¡± he lamented. ¡°It just fucking has to be me, doesn¡¯t it?¡± It must have been the numerous visits to the elite healer. Those were unavoidable, so he had taken the hit to his reputation as inevitable. But this was bad. Really bad. After several more hours of rest, he was finally released. His wounds still ached, and he felt dizzy, but a recovery potion from his stash had dealt with the most pressing injuries. As he walked out of the tent, he heard a voice. ¡°Oh, thank God!¡± someone called from behind him. ¡°You¡¯re alive!¡± He turned around, only to spot the silver-haired man getting off the ground nearby. ¡°Uh¡­¡± he started, somewhat bemused. ¡°Hello?¡± The man patted some dust off his forager uniform as he stepped forward and gave him a handshake. ¡°My name is Peter Vane.¡± ¡°Okay, Peter¡­ uhm¡­ why are you still here?¡± he asked without returning the introduction. ¡°Oh, I¡­¡± The man appeared taken aback. ¡°I helped bring you here, so I was rather invested in seeing¡ª¡± ¡°Thank you¡­ for your help, I mean,¡± he said. ¡°But uhm¡­ I¡¯ll be fine now.¡± ¡°I see,¡± he replied, his gaze scouring the state of his body. ¡°Say, you¡¯re pretty strong, right?¡± He winced. Indeed. He was pretty strong, but¡­ judging by his shameful display from earlier, he had a long way to go with using that strength properly. ¡°I¡¯d say I¡¯m pretty tough, yeah,¡± he confirmed, carefully wording his statement. ¡°I have to admit,¡± the man started with a shy smile. ¡°I saw your fight at the Wastes. You were quite¡ª¡± ¡°Look,¡± he interrupted, ¡°are you here for a reason or¡­¡± ¡°I¡­ You know, there is something I¡¯d like to talk to you about,¡± the man started. Freddy eyed him curiously. The shifting posture, nervous glances, forced smile¡­ This man, or Peter, rather, wanted something. While he was too tired and in too much pain to care, he couldn¡¯t help but feel that something was off. He wanted to leave¡­ but his instincts told him to stay. The man glanced around. ¡°Maybe we should go somewhere a bit more private.¡± So they did, going to a secluded area in the corner of the main cavern. Peter started. ¡°Have you ever wondered why the officials allow the arena to exist?¡± Not really was what he wanted to say because he hadn¡¯t concerned himself with it until now, but¡ª ¡°Yeah¡­¡± he offered tentatively, curious as to where the man was going with this. ¡°Right? It¡¯s suspicious, isn¡¯t it?¡± the man said. ¡°I¡¯m a regular in the stands, and people often show growth that they shouldn¡¯t have been able to reach just by doing their job, but the staff still overlooks it despite it being an undeniable violation of the rules.¡± ¡°Figures,¡± he said. The staff probably couldn¡¯t be bothered with examining the growth of every individual. ¡°What about ascending?¡± ¡°No, that¡¯s guaranteed exile,¡± the man clarified. ¡°And two-stars like myself are watched way more carefully, but other than that, they don¡¯t seem to care about anything else.¡± Two-star? he wondered internally. This man was a two-star? Indeed, as he tried focusing on it, he couldn¡¯t tell how strong the man was. That meant the man could perfectly hide his presence, confirming that he was a star above him. ¡°So?¡± he started. ¡°What about the arena?¡± ¡°I was just wondering¡­ are you planning on coming back?¡± He squinted at the man. ¡°Why?¡± ¡°Well¡­¡± the man started, his eyes shifting. ¡°You¡¯d be able to repay your debt much faster.¡± ¡°Through the betting, you mean?¡± He had heard about the betting system in place in the arena. Naturally, if this whole operation was legit, it would be the perfect way for him to make it out of there. But it wasn¡¯t, so he had no interest in it. ¡°Yeah,¡± the man confirmed. ¡°But not just that, but you¡¯re pretty strong, too¡­ Perhaps fewer people would go after you if you showed what you¡¯re made of.¡± He laughed at that. ¡°Maybe. Maybe not. Is that all you wanted to talk about?¡± The man paused for a moment, then shook his head. ¡°Cut to the chase, then. What do you want?¡± he asked. ¡°Well¡­ I was just wondering¡­ and please don¡¯t tell anyone I asked you this, but¡­ just theoretically, if you were trying to escape, what would you do?¡± Freddy froze. A sneaking suspicion snuck into the back of his mind as he stared the man down. Then he smiled. ¡°I would give up,¡± he said, chuckling. ¡°This place seems to be more or less an impenetrable prison.¡± ¡°What if I told you it didn¡¯t need to be?¡± the man offered, his expression growing slightly darker. ¡°I¡¯d prefer paying my debt back, anyway,¡± he said. ¡°Why risk it?¡± ¡°I¡ª¡± Peter started, suddenly seeming extremely anxious. ¡°If that¡¯s all you wanted to talk about, I¡¯m off,¡± he said as he nodded and turned around. ¡°I¡ªWait!¡± But Freddy didn¡¯t stop. ¡°There¡ªThere¡¯s a rumor!¡± He paused, slowly turning to face the blubbering man. ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°I¡­¡± The man shifted, his eyes dodging as he gulped. ¡°They¡­ they say that you might¡­ you know¡­ You might not be set free after paying your debt back¡­¡± His eyes closed into slits. ¡°That seems like a silly conspiracy to me.¡± ¡°I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m not sure,¡± the man said. ¡°There isn¡¯t a guarantee that they¡¯ll just release us.¡± ¡°And where did you hear that rumor?¡± he asked. ¡°I¡­ Just conversation.¡± ¡°Uh-huh,¡± he said. ¡°Just wondering, you said you were a two-star, right?¡± The man nodded. ¡°I¡¯m just curious, but as far as I know, the two-stars here are only non-combat archhumans, yeah?¡± The man confirmed hesitantly, ¡°Indeed. None of us have combat talents,¡± the man declared, and he couldn¡¯t react fast enough as Freddy gripped the back of his neck and pushed him to the ground, restraining the man by locking his arm behind his back. ¡°Scream, and you¡¯re dead,¡± Freddy threatened. ¡°Now tell me, what the fuck do you want from me?¡± he questioned. ¡°Please! Argh! I¡¯ll tell you everything!¡± the man begged. ¡°Let me guess, trying to recruit me into a rebel group? We¡¯ll see how the staff feels about that!¡± ¡°That¡¯s not why I¡¯m here!¡± he defended himself. ¡°Prove it, then!¡± ¡°I¡¯m¡­¡± The man coughed as he inhaled some dust. ¡°I just want to help you out!¡± ¡°You¡¯re lying,¡± he said, pushing the man¡¯s head further into the soil and pulling his arm harder. ¡°You¡¯re here for personal interest. So tell me, motherfucker, what do you want?¡± ¡°You¡¯re right!¡± Peter admitted. ¡°You have a powerful master¡­ Am I correct?¡± He paused. Instead of denying it, he played along. ¡°How do you know that?¡± ¡°The information in your documents!¡± the man said. ¡°It¡¯s classified! And your power is¡ª¡± ¡°How the fuck do you know what¡¯s in my documents?¡± he interrogated. ¡°Because I work here!¡± the man declared. ¡°I¡¯m a staff member in disguise!¡± Oh¡­ fuck my life, he cursed internally. He had just assaulted a staff member. The thought of killing the man outright and hiding his body crossed his mind, but he restrained himself. ¡°What business do you have conspiring like this?¡± he asked. The man took a few calming breaths. ¡°I don¡¯t plan on being stuck with this shitty company forever!¡± he yelled. ¡°I would like to offer you a trade. I¡¯ll help you make it out of this place! In return¡­ please convince your master to take me under their wing!¡± he said. ¡°I have a Poison Master talent, but it¡¯s useless in combat. I never wanted a non-combat talent!¡± he shouted. ¡°I need a favor from someone powerful to help me skew my next evolution!¡± Freddy kept the man pinned to the ground for a long moment. For all he knew, this person could be lying, but his motives were selfish enough to at least give him some credit. Usually, he would never take a chance with a figure as suspicious as this. But he didn¡¯t have even a hint of a plan for making it out of these caves. Running away was suicide. And what other choices did he have? Sighing deeply, he gritted his teeth. An opportunity like this wouldn¡¯t come to him twice. ¡°All right,¡± he said, releasing the man¡¯s neck. ¡°I accept your deal.¡± Naturally, as he had no master, he had no way to hold up his part of the bargain. Was it dishonorable? He didn¡¯t care. He needed a way out of there. *** Eventually, Freddy made his way back to his tent. There, he picked up his stuff. It was too dangerous to stay there for the time being. So, at least for a while, he would be moving to the abandoned cave. On his trek out, every person that glanced at him seemed suspicious. Anyone who even as much as lifted their arm as they passed him was treated the same as if they were holding a dagger. How little would it take for someone with a specialized ability or talent to kill him in a crowd like this? And, if several men ganged up on him like that, how likely was he to win again? His conversation with the disguised staff member had been a short one. For the time being, the man would subtly look for ways to get him out of the expedition. Until their next meeting, he was still responsible for keeping himself alive. One thing was glaringly obvious¡ªhe needed to learn how to properly defend himself, and swinging at empty air without guidance wasn¡¯t good enough. His reputation seemed to be unsalvageable¡ªbut who said that he needed to fix it? No, he had a much better idea. Chapter 37 - Shark In a Pond The biggest problem Freddy noticed after moving out of the main compound was that it was nearly impossible to keep track of time. Luckily, he hadn¡¯t missed any days before and still had free days, so it had no considerable consequences. His solution to the problem was simple. He just went to the equipment distribution center and requested a small pocket watch. Yup. They gave those away. For free. He had no clue. Made sense when he thought about it. People had to return from the caves on time, so they had to know the time. Even an idiot should have been able to guess that much. Needless to say, he was pretty ashamed of himself for not knowing that earlier. Sleeping in the cold cave was hard to get used to at first, but his Adaptive Water Body allowed him to acclimate much faster than would otherwise be possible. Nothing could get him used to the occasional bug¡ªmost often, those giant, nasty centipedes crawling over his body and tickling him. While, at first, he simply draped his futon over a random patch of moss and dealt with the problems as they came, he eventually located and polished an elevated piece of stone and slept there. Expecting the stone to be exceptionally uncomfortable, he was pretty surprised to discover that it was, honestly, maybe even better than the bed he had had when he was renting his own place. His overall productivity and the rate at which he was repaying his debt had crawled to barely above twice the mandatory daily quota. That seemed like a lot, but for him, who had pulled well over twenty thousand dollars a day at his best¡­ yeah, it was a monumental slowdown. He planned on returning to full glory eventually, as he didn¡¯t want to lose the benefits he had access to. The reason behind his sudden productivity crash was simple¡ª he spent the overwhelming majority of his time awake training. Flowing Strike experienced a massive surge in growth after his fight with those men, and after a few days of practice, the shell finally reached its complete state. On top of that, the progress with his star shot up to 65%. He had trained Flowing Strike by smashing a clear path around the small lake. He could crush stone with a solid swing of his fist. Frankly, it was stupid, as he frequently cracked bone and mangled his fingers until they bled, but healing was easy enough, and his bones grew less fragile the more he abused them. And once he finished that, he picked up a boulder roughly the size of his torso, placed it on his back, and ran circles around the cave. Abyssal Depths was a phenomenal tempering technique. Having a denser body meant it was more difficult for enemies to push him around, and greater mass meant greater force behind his strikes. But as he had learned the hard way in his fight against his assailants, it also slowed him down considerably. And now that he had upgraded it, that problem wouldn¡¯t get any less prominent. On his first run around the lake, he barely reached halfway around before he collapsed from exhaustion. His abs and lower back burned as if set on fire, and his calves felt as if they were about to snap from overexertion. Not to even speak of his spine, hips, shoulders, neck, and knees. Without his talent, those would be fucked for life. Such intense training naturally demanded a lot of energy. For this, mushrooms were a blessing, and he was, thankfully, a pro at finding edible ones, as well as other beneficial herbs. While heavy processing was essential to transforming raw ingredients into useful alchemical products, some could exhibit a limited degree of their beneficial effects even when consumed raw. Naturally, there were always treasures that didn¡¯t need to be processed, but that wasn¡¯t what Freddy was eating. At all. Tough to digest, sometimes poisonous, or with other non-lethal, or even just slightly lethal, side-effects was the name of the game. But 1% Lifesteal, coupled with Adaptive Water Body, and likely just his body¡¯s natural adaptation, made it possible to eat them without much trouble¡ªand to much benefit. Enhanced regeneration, higher energy levels, more focus, slightly enhanced essence recovery, a small but noticeable boost to his toughness, endurance, speed, reflexes, and even strength. He thought clearer, saw sharper, heard crisper, and felt¡­ good. A bit too good. Maybe he was getting more than he had bargained for. None of the effects he was experiencing were anywhere near as prominent¡ªor long-lasting¡ªas they would be after the herbs were processed. But having even a minor increase in, well, literally everything across the board wasn¡¯t a bonus to scoff at. It yet again reminded him of how absurd his talent was. His daily diet consisted of constantly snacking on one herb or another and shoving about as much protein as he could force down his throat. There was a hole in the corner that he was rapidly filling up with¡­ waste. It was starting to overflow, and he could smell hints of poo all the way from the other side of the cavern. His training, besides crushing his spine and joints through self-abuse, also consisted of a lot of essence control practice. Freddy knew nearly nothing about standard essence control exercises, but with all the time on his hands, he eventually began puzzling a thing or two out. These, as far he had discovered, were the primary variables¡ªfirst, whether he was controlling an internal or an external source of water; second, the volume of liquid; third, the number of separate blobs he manipulated at once; fourth, the complexity of the shape he was trying to maintain; fifth, the uninterrupted time he spent holding water afloat; sixth, the degree to which it was compressed; seventh, the complexity of the trajectory he moved it through; and finally, eight, the speed to which he accelerated it. Hydraulic Flex was enough practice for internal water manipulation. Probably. He didn¡¯t know much about doing that stuff himself, as all his internal abilities had come from ether scrolls. So, trying to learn it through practice seemed good enough for the time being. For all the others, he devised specific exercises working on one variable and that one variable alone. Perhaps this was simply due to his Essence Extraction supplying him with enough essence to practice to his heart¡¯s content, but as soon as he employed this new set of exercises, his manipulation skills snowballed. He no longer bothered keeping it in the shape of a ball, so the volume he could control ballooned. If they were tiny enough and their form was nothing but a morphing blob, he could manipulate at first only two, but soon enough, up to seven separate water droplets. Given that he hadn¡¯t done anything besides a simple ball shape until then, he was shocked to discover how difficult it was to keep other forms afloat. He struggled with this the most by far, and the most complex object he could maintain, other than the aforementioned ball, was a cube¡ªa very wobbly one. The pocket watch he carried around told him that endurance in keeping water afloat was definitely the part he was most advanced at. It wasn¡¯t surprising, as it had been the primary aspect he worked on while trapped for all those months. Next, compression, which was, as far as he was concerned, basically impossible. It was like trying to compress slime with his hands¡ªthe harder he pressed, the more likely it was to escape through a gap in his control. He surmised that if he wanted any chance of doing this one, he had to be able to first form a near-perfect sphere. That wouldn¡¯t be easy. The best he could do was more of an egg. Then there was the trajectory, another thing he was relatively good at from his time in solitary confinement. He didn¡¯t struggle with a full-body orbit, and he could almost manage a few loops in a row, but only close to his hands, where his control was strongest. And finally, the speed, which he struggled with. The problem was that he instantly lost grip on the water he was manipulating as soon as he accelerated it. However, it didn¡¯t take long for him to realize that, well, that was kind of the point. It would eventually escape his control¡ªhe just had to work on adding as much speed to it before that happened. For the first few days, he experienced explosive growth. It didn¡¯t take long to run the circumference of the lake, and soon he ran it twice. Then thrice, four times, five times, before he realized it, he was running long¡ªand fast enough¡ªto justify picking up a bigger boulder. As soon as he split his manipulation exercises into specific skills, he instantly realized that those skills were precisely what he had been missing. Soon enough, he could manipulate the entire volume of his stage one Create Water, which amounted to a greater volume of water than there was in his body, twice over¡ªand soon enough after, he could manipulate it for well over a minute. He had gone from seven to twelve blobs he could hold up at once, which was mighty impressive, as the difficulty seemed to be scaling exponentially. Moving them, however, was utterly impossible. Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. The cube became less wobbly and was soon joined by a prism, while the ball finally appeared even, at least from some angles. And he finally had what could generously be called a breakthrough with compression. He still couldn¡¯t compress water much but could at least noticeably squish a ball for a fraction of a section. And finally, he could push water fast enough to send a small orb flying halfway across the lake. The improvements in manipulation quickly started reflecting in his work on Hydraulic Flex. He could target the shape of the muscle better, and flex faster, stronger. He was growing in precision, power, and control enough to, hell, even use raw manipulation to simulate an inferior version of the ability through manual control. Was he good enough to crystalize it already? Hell yeah, he was good enough, but there was no way he would settle for anything less than the absolute best he could do. Eventually, after checking the Netherecho enough times, he finally tracked down something he wanted¡ªthe concept of turbulence. After wasting nearly half a day attempting different methods of subduing the chaotic vestige, which was practically just a mass of turbulent energy, he eventually, through sheer stubbornness, wore it down enough to slot it into Hundred Wet Hells. While something like toughness would have been great since it would have directly improved the effect of the tempering technique, his choice was more effective¡ªeven if much more dangerous and painful. Toughness sped up the results. Turbulence escalated the challenge. Massively. As he tried himself against this new torture method, he nearly regretted choosing to take that vestige. He felt as if he was using the ability for the first time again, and this time, he had no flesh blob to help him cope with the agony. The surface of his skin visibly wiggled in a gross, shifty display whenever he used the tempering technique. But he could barely tell, given that something similar also happened to his eyeballs, making it practically impossible to see. His nails lifted, bleeding from beneath; his mouth, ears, eyes, and nose bled, and he swore he could feel his intestines tying themselves into a knot. It wasn¡¯t sustainable. He couldn¡¯t keep it up for long. Whether that upgrade had been a mistake depended on whether he could find a way to cope with the upgraded ability. He also discovered numerous vestiges he could slot into Flowing Strike but, frankly, had no idea which he wanted. Or needed, for that matter. He even found the concept of flow, which resonated strongly with his ability, but while it was a good one, he knew it wasn¡¯t the optimal choice. So, rather than think of what the ability needed or what he wanted, he tried thinking outside the box. It was a technique that enhanced the power of his blows. It aimed to crush blocks and deliver force. So¡­ maybe momentum would do well? No, that wasn¡¯t quite it. But then it happened. As soon as he saw that vestige, he knew. It was a metal ball that jumped every few seconds and then stopped dead as soon as it touched a surface. And he felt it. Not the resonance; that was mediocre at best, but he knew it was precisely what he needed. It was a vestige of force transference. *** The crowd at the Wastes was as wild as ever. ¡°Get him!¡± ¡°Kill the bastard!¡± ¡°Cave his skull in!¡± The match was nothing special. It was a sanctioned match between two fighters. Nobody really cared why they were fighting. For most, the Wastes were a place to see some blood, scream their lungs out, and vent their frustration. It was the closest thing anyone in Camp Violet had to therapy besides the staff, who had an actual therapist on board¡ªLeo. Nice guy. Peter slurped the slightly citrusy cocktail through a makeshift root straw, which he had fashioned out of a wheelzipper brush. It gave everything he drank a bitter tang and helped take the edge off the other nasty flavors. But the effect was already wearing off. As he finished the drink, he threw the straw on the ground beside him, haphazardly flinging it to the ground. It had been weeks since his talk with Freddy. He had done a highly reckless violation of his contract but had taken the risk anyway. Why? It was simple. That man likely had a master who was trying to rescue him. Giving Freddy a hand was Peter¡¯s attempt at earning himself a favor. He had to be here for only a single month longer, but it wasn¡¯t like leaving would be an improvement. He sighed as he thought about it. No, actually, leaving Camp Violet would reduce his income to less than 10 percent of what he was earning here. Thankfully, his work had earned him some savings so he could invest in himself, but that was far from enough to make the type of difference he wanted to see. For his ambition, he needed to strive for more¡ªand as they said, no risk, no reward. He had a few ideas for how to help the man, but¡­ he¡¯d have to actually talk to Freddy to discuss them. He knew that the man was still alive, given that he was fulfilling his daily quota, but he seemed to have become paranoid. Getting a hold of him was like trying to grab wet soap out of midair. Well, it wasn¡¯t like he could blame the man. He had seen the bloody state he had been in. Peter took another drink and gave a half-hearted cheer as one of the fighters landed a heavy blow. As the match ended between the man with slightly enhanced toughness and the man with moderately boosted strength¡ªboth common and plain talents¡ªwith the tougher of the two simply outlasting his opponent, the crowd quieted as the next match was prepared. Taking a moment to think about his future, Peter¡ª ¡°Bastards and gentlemen!¡± the announcer yelled as he stepped out. It was a man with greasy, long hair wearing a black sleeveless shirt that had been fashioned out of an old, char-bathed uniform. ¡°Oh?¡± His focus was suddenly squarely back on the ring. Matches weren¡¯t often announced. But he usually knew who would be up well in advance. Is it another special event? he wondered, half-prepared for disappointment, but¡ª ¡°Today, we have a special bout. Few of you probably remember, but some might recall a strange man. A while back, a newbie had been sent in for a hazing. But he stepped out, head held tall, displaying a body forged in hell¡­ and proved those scars weren¡¯t just for show.¡± No fucking way, he thought as a fat grin spread on his lips. The reaction of the rest of the crowd, however, wasn¡¯t nearly as positive. Boos and jeers spread through the audience. ¡°That¡¯s the snitch!¡± someone yelled. ¡°Bastard asslicker! Give him hell!¡± ¡°Kill the rat!¡± a man started, and¡ª ¡°Kill the rat!¡± several others joined. He knew of the man¡¯s unfortunate reputation. Indeed, anyone who got such benefits could have only gotten them through selling out someone who was up to no good, so a lousy rep wasn¡¯t a surprise¡­ but to think it had gotten this bad¡­ ¡°Now, now,¡± the announcer yelled, calming the audience. ¡°You don¡¯t want to anger the staff by bullying their golden boy,¡± he joked, adding a jab of his own. ¡°But I¡¯m serious. You know what happened last time you cunts took things too far.¡± That made the crowd cool down in a heartbeat. ¡°So! It is time for¡ª¡± ¡°You know what, you pieces of shit!?¡± a new voice yelled as Freddy, wearing a skin-tight black suit, one of the pieces of the forager set, stepped out of a cave. ¡°Come the fuck out! Anyone got a problem with me!? Step into the ring!¡± Peter¡¯s jaw dropped. The jeers and boos in the crowd got that much worse, and several people looked ready to get up and fight. ¡°Oh, you wanna go!? You wanna fucking go!?¡± Freddy fanned the flames. ¡°Come here, you motherfuckers! I¡¯m gonna take you all at once!¡± ¡°What the hell is he doing?¡± Peter wondered. ¡°Silence!¡± the announcer screamed, but barely calmed the crowd. He rushed to Freddy, grabbed his arm, and forcefully shoved him back to his cave, kicking him in the ass as he did so. Unbelievable, he thought as he shook his head. That moron is trying to get himself killed. *** Freddy wasn¡¯t just being a hot-headed dumbass by doing what he did. That day, he was there to prove he wasn¡¯t messing around. Well, he might have gotten a bit carried away, but he was juiced on so many different herbs that he was itching to bite someone¡¯s head off. He had come frighteningly close to leaping into the audience and starting a brawl. As he finished his warm-up, shadowboxing, and stretching in the cave, and the announcer finished calming the audience and announcing the fight, he stood prepared. Was he a good fighter? Definitely not. Did he come strapped with a killer combat talent? Nope. Was he confident in beating anyone here in a fight? Absolutely yes. He stripped himself out of the skin-tight suit and revealed his impossibly chiseled muscles, wearing nothing but the standard boxer shorts to cover his privates. As far as one-star archs were concerned, from what little he knew, his power was easily in the middle-upper echelon of warriors. Most rich, elite kids could still easily wipe the floor with him. Combat talents among the upper class weren¡¯t an advantage he could easily overcome. And that was only a part of it. Treasures, training, secret abilities, high-level alchemical products, a practically infinite number of essence-recovery elixirs, healing, and more added to a qualitative difference between him and those who stood at the peak. Nobody here was such an elite, though. People with especially dangerous talents had been sent somewhere else, with most camp workers having either non-combat talents or just ones on the weaker side. On top of that, external techniques were limited in these fights. Nobody could target their opponent directly with something like a fireball for relatively obvious reasons. These were sanctioned matches hosted by camp staff. Naturally, they weren¡¯t hosting them to see their workers kill each other. Deaths had happened before, but only because it was better for them to occur in a ring by accident than out in the caves by premeditated intent. Even past that, using weapons was prohibited. He couldn¡¯t possibly ask for more optimal circumstances. His opponent wouldn¡¯t be the best the arena could offer, but that was no reason to get complacent. ¡°You got this, Freddy,¡± he said as he slapped his cheeks. ¡°And now! Fighters! Step into the Wastes!¡± He walked out at a jog, pumping his chest and screaming at the audience. Nobody was booing him this time. Instead, they were cheering, ¡°Skull Crusher! Skull Crusher!¡± It was only then that he turned to look at his opponent. It was a man he had seen a few times in passing but never paid particularly close attention to. At that moment, as the over two-meter-tall giant stood stripped of his uniform, revealing muscles that stretched his tan skin to the breaking point, only one thought went through his mind. Oh, fuck my life. Chapter 38 - Skull Crusher Mark woke up with both his arms numb: the large, opulent bedroom curtains were pulled over the windows, and the light barely revealed the warm, soft reasons why. Trapping his left side was a beautiful brunette woman, and lying on the other was a handsome blonde. ¡°Son of a¡ª¡± he whispered under his breath. ¡°Not again¡­¡± Pulling his arms out from under his two naked companions, he got up and went to the toilet. Going up a star was often accompanied by notable physiological changes that got more drastic the higher up one went. For his second star, he was granted a thick, full beard of black hair. And he hadn¡¯t been doing much to keep it in check, even though he¡¯d been keeping his blonde hair cut extra short. Washing his face, he observed himself in the mirror, meeting his own green eyes. Funny, he thought, how often he failed to recognize himself. For a brief moment, he looked at his arm. There, yet another in a long series of scars rested. But whenever he looked at it, it ached far more than any other. Shaking those thoughts off, he returned to the large bedroom and entered another door on the other side. There, he had a small office. Pulling out a paper from a drawer, he grabbed a fountain pen and started writing. I¡¯M SO SORRY FOR¡ª He immediately scribbled over that and threw the paper in the trash. I HAD FUN LAST NIGHT¡ª And again. THANK YOU FOR¡ª ¡°Gah,¡± he groaned. Putting a palm to his forehead, he took a deep breath and decided to be honest. HELLO. I¡¯M MARK, IN CASE I DIDN¡¯T INTRODUCE MYSELF LAST NIGHT. I DON¡¯T REALLY DO THIS SORT OF STUFF OFTEN. Well, he did, but not because he wanted to. I JUST WANTED TO SAY I PROBABLY HAD FUN, BUT I DON¡¯T REMEMBER MUCH. I¡¯VE LEFT THE APARTMENT, AND I¡¯M GOING TO BE OUT ALL DAY. YOU DON¡¯T NEED TO RUSH TO GET OUT. IF YOU WANT, YOU CAN ORDER A DRINK OR BREAKFAST ON THE TABLET NEXT TO THE FRIDGE. MY TREAT. SEE YOU¡ª He immediately scratched that last part. PLEASE LEAVE BY¡ª And again. ¡°You know what, screw it.¡± He gave up. They¡¯d probably leave by the time he was back anyway. Hopefully. He put his uniform on as quietly as he could to avoid waking the girls up. A black accented by red, military-style suit was on his body in minutes, and the cap with the Kraven insignia on it was on his head. It¡¯d been a while since he had gotten this job, working as a part of their militia. A big part of him regretted signing with them, but¡­ It had been the only way to avoid getting assassinated by Madame. He left the apartment and strolled down the long hallway. Eventually, he reached a door. After knocking and waiting for a while, his father opened it. ¡°Hey! Come on in. Your mother just made breakfast.¡± So he did. His mother appeared cheerful and pleased. His father was as happy to see him as always. Sarah, his sister, was already attending her lessons. None of them knew what he¡¯d really done to earn this privilege. And they never would. As he ate his mother¡¯s food, his father asked, ¡°Any updates on the academy?¡± ¡°The main building has already been constructed,¡± he informed his father. ¡°But they¡¯re planning a lot of specialized equipment and rooms. Ethertech is evolving rapidly with all the new resources pouring in, so they must account for any new breakthroughs if they don¡¯t want to become outdated too fast.¡± ¡°I see, I see,¡± his father said. ¡°So, how¡¯s work?¡± he asked cautiously. Mark frowned. ¡°Good,¡± he said. ¡°There have been some concerning sightings recently, but nothing that Empress Kaiya can¡¯t handle if worse comes to worst.¡± After another moment, he added, ¡°But yeah. Establishing a permanent settlement isn¡¯t viable without a five-star around. But the passage is under the jurisdiction of the American Empire, and naturally, politics makes that difficult.¡± ¡°Just don¡¯t get yourself killed,¡± his mother warned. ¡°I¡¯ve heard some scary stories, you know.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Mom,¡± he comforted her. As long as I work beside that monster, I¡¯ll be fine, he added internally. After finishing his meal, he said goodbye to his parents, left, and strode down the extensive maze of hallways. Eventually, he reached an elevator and stepped inside. He was on the thirty-seventh floor, so he could see the whole city through the glass walls. A massive dome surrounded the entirety of Starhold. Its web-like, metallic reinforcements, partially concealed behind a few larger floating islands, held the reinforced glass dome solid and stable. The half-sphere kept flying creatures out and protected the settlement from the harsh, rapidly changing weather. Numerous buildings were in construction as far as the eye could see, and every day he found himself looking over the city, he spotted a few newly finished ones and a few freshly started ones. This was the only permanent settlement that had been established on Faralethal. And he was among the pioneers settling it. With the incredible amount of resources humanity was extracting in this passage realm, which had been reclassified as a D-class realm, Starhold had been experiencing explosive economic growth, and ethertech grew more advanced by the day. Speaking of ethertech, his pocket started vibrating. He pulled the portable long-distance etherwave communication and computing device, or as they called it in honor of Old Earth technology¡ªthe phone¡ªout of his pocket and held his finger on the giant red button for a second. ¡°Yo, Mark!¡± a voice sounded. ¡°I¡¯ll be there in a few minutes, Nahar,¡± Mark answered. ¡°Of course you will,¡± the man teased with a laugh. ¡°Not even two beauties like that can keep you¡ª¡± Before the voice could finish the sentence, he ended the call, shaking his head. Upon reaching the bottom floor, he stepped to a second elevator, pressed a finger to a scanner, and walked inside, this time going to the underground. Less than a minute of descent later, he left and entered the Kraven militia headquarters. Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. The walls were plain gray, and the halls were full of men and women clothed in uniforms similar to his own. They were heading to the morning training, which he, as an operative directly under the command of a VIP, wasn¡¯t forced to attend. He still participated whenever he could, but he was more often than not busy with other matters as well as personal training. This was no matter of official rank. Although many envied his privileges among the troops, unfortunately, he received them by being friends with¡­ In the communications center, surrounded by men and women observing the numerous screens that flashed important information, a man sat on a couch with seven empty bottles of fine spirit right on the table before him. He wore the Kraven core family member uniform, had those creepy red lines all over his face, as well as red hair, and wore¡­ sunglasses¡­ despite it being day and them being underground. ¡°Mark!¡± he greeted him. ¡°Did you have fun last night?¡± ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t remember¡­¡± he responded shyly, glancing at some of the officers eyeing him with cheeky smiles. Nahar clicked his tongue. ¡°You damn lightweight.¡± ¡°Aaanyway.¡± He rushed to change the subject. ¡°I believe we have an important mission today.¡± ¡°No, we don¡¯t, Marky-moo,¡± he denied. ¡°We have a chore.¡± He heavily disagreed with that statement. They were to join the stampede suppression unit today. On a daily basis, Starhold was swarmed by hordes of monsters trying to break through the barrier. Frontline work was dangerous, bloody, and tiring. But he supposed it was no surprise that anything related to blood would feel like a chore to the young master. Suddenly, Nahar¡¯s phone rang loudly. He took his sweet time picking it up once he saw who it was from. Answering the phone, he put it to his ears and responded with the occasional ¡°Uh-huh¡± and ¡°Will do, pops!¡± Putting the phone down, he groaned. ¡°What is it?¡± Mark asked. ¡°Looks like you¡¯re on your own today, Mark. Old man Janny just called me,¡± he said as he got up and stretched. ¡°Core family members are to return to the main base¡­ ¡°Apparently, he will be bringing some good news soon.¡± *** There were two types of matches in the Wastes, and depending on what the fighters agreed upon, it was either one or the other. The first type was tournament-style combat. There was a circular border; any fighter who left that border or was thrown out was disqualified. The fights were judged, and if someone was knocked down, they¡¯d be given the time to get up¡ªif they didn¡¯t, they were out. There was also a point system, and the judge could, at their discretion, end the match or call a break whenever they deemed fit. The second type was different¡ªand heavily restricted. The staff only permitted it if both fighters had the credit to afford extensive treatment and had a defensive tempering technique. This was because the second type was deathmatch-style combat. It didn¡¯t go until death¡ªnot often. But there was no barrier one could get kicked out of. There was no grace if one was knocked to the ground. It was until surrender, unconsciousness, or, well, death. As the announcer finally called today¡¯s match as being of the second type, the crowd exploded with excitement. Freddy¡¯s opponent¡ªan absolute giant of a man¡ªstood confident. Given that his moniker was ¡°Skull Crusher,¡± this probably wasn¡¯t his first rodeo. The stands echoed with his name, which soon turned into a ¡°crush his skull!¡± chant that Freddy wasn¡¯t a big fan of for some mysterious reason. The massive man had limbs as thick as tree trunks and weighed more than Freddy, even with Abyssal Depths. His skin was the color of bronze, and his face was surprisingly handsome despite how stern it looked. The man had long hair, the type that only those who had been a part of the expedition for a long while had. Rather than allow himself to panic, he took deep breaths to calm himself. The announcer was still hyping the fight, so he had a few dozen seconds until it was go time. Every muscle in his body screamed with energy, blood pumped through his veins with an audible thudding in his ears, and his nerves were stretched so thin that a light breeze could trigger a premature jump at the man. His opponent was large, which made him a big target. He probably wasn¡¯t too big on speed, especially given his height. Freddy didn¡¯t have to fear harm for numerous reasons, so he decreed that¡ª ¡°Match start!¡± the announcer screamed, and the giant man rushed forward. Shit! he exclaimed internally while his mind whirled. Despite being in the middle of preparing himself, the start of the fight still caught him unprepared, and now Skull Crusher was charging at him with the momentum of a bull seeing red. No matter, he thought as he lowered his stance and prepared Hydraulic Flex. His leg muscles inflated like balloons for a fraction of a second, and he was launched forward with an explosive twang like that of a ballista string, swinging a clumsy but adequate Flowing Strike. The man didn¡¯t expect such a fast dash, so he couldn¡¯t muster a solid guard before¡ª Freddy¡¯s fist landed on Skull Crusher¡¯s chest with a crackling sound of ribs being crushed, and as his stage one Flowing Strike pushed the water through his arms, so did it transfer the immense momentum of the human cannonball behind it. It was as if the massive human weighed less than a balloon someone slapped out of the air; his body launched backward, bouncing off the ground with a bloody skitter and slamming back first into the far wall of the arena, right under the stands, leaving the stone cracked, the man¡¯s mouth bleeding liberally, and the crowd¡ªsilent. ¡°I¡­ Ugh¡­ I surrender,¡± Skull Crusher barely mustered as his eyes rolled back into his skull, and he went limp. Freddy landed back on the ground in a crouch and got up, bewildered. But it didn¡¯t last long. A fat, unrestrained grin spread over his face as he glanced at the silent stands. ¡°Well?¡± he asked, directing his animalistic rush at the spectators. ¡°Anyone else wants to have a go? Well!?¡± he asked in a yell. ¡°Any volunteers!? Come on, who else wants a shot at crushing¡ªmy¡ªskull!?¡± One of the spectators tried booing him, likely expecting others to join. Nobody did. The bald man stood alone. Freddy stared at him directly, and those sitting beside him inched away. ¡°I asked, does anyone else want to have a go? Come on, people, we don¡¯t have all day! No one?¡± As he asked the stand again, the rush started to wear off. ¡°Come on, you cowards! I know at least three of you here want a rematch; how about it?¡± The announcer approached him and patted his shoulder, whispering, ¡°Get out of the ring, dude. You¡¯ve proven your point.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t prove shit,¡± he spat. ¡°Fuck!¡± But, with a quick nod, he started leaving anyway. His breaths were stifled, and he felt a heavy weight settling on his shoulders. Again. His steps felt like each and every one of them lasted an eternity, and the world around him drained of all color as the realization finally set in. Nobody in this expedition was supposed to be great at combat. So, how would the administration react to him being this powerful? Was he valuable enough to get away with it? He hadn¡¯t been. Not lately. They would realize that he was basically training the whole time. His breath sped up as he felt a drop of sweat trickle down the side of his face. Would they make an example out of him? His gaze traveled to the stands, and he immediately spotted the silver-haired man. Raising a hand in a ¡°wait for me¡± motion, the man got up and pushed through the stands. Freddy entered the side cave, put on his clothes, and left the Wastes as quietly as possible. In a small side cave, he spotted the silver-haired man waving at him to walk over to a hidden spot. ¡°Dude, that was epic!¡± he scream-whispered at Freddy. ¡°You really¡ªack¡ª¡± The man choked as Freddy gripped his throat and, with a swing, slammed the man¡¯s back against the cave wall. ¡°Why¡­ are¡­ you¡­?¡± he choked out. This man was a two-star, but that didn¡¯t matter. He was a non-combat arch, and Freddy¡¯s raw strength overpowered him greatly. ¡°For your own sake, I really hope you found the way to get me out of here,¡± he said. ¡°I¡­ Please¡­!¡± the man begged, and he loosened the grip ever-so-slightly, just enough for the man to speak, ¡°I have a few ideas! But why are you¡ª¡± ¡°Because you should have fucking said¡±¡ªhe screamed, slamming the man against the wall¡ª¡°that these arena motherfuckers¡±¡ªhe slammed the man again¡ª¡°are this fucking weak! God damn it!¡± He dropped the man to the ground. ¡°Why are you¡­?¡± ¡°Read the mood, you imbecile!¡± he insulted. ¡°They¡¯ll make an example out of me. I¡¯m a dead man walking.¡± The man fought to catch his breath. ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± he placated him, gulping. ¡°I have a way to keep you safe for now.¡± Chapter 39 - The Tiled Plains Stephen woke up as his alarm went off¡ªa sound of chirping birds accompanied by a faintly glowing orange light illuminating his room, simulating the lighting of a beautiful sunrise. His living quarters were predominantly an elegant white, accented by a few shades of gray, mainly to make the expensive Cloudego-brand furniture pop out. His room had fake window screens of shifting light that mimicked a time of day, currently shining Morning¡¯s Optimism¡ªthe setting he enjoyed the most. As he woke up and entered the large dining room, a warm breakfast was already waiting for him, and the servants were out of sight, as they should be. Fried bacon, sunny-side-up eggs, and some waffles on the side made for a meal deeply reminiscent of home. A home he hated dearly. But the breakfast was still there, a daily reminder of how far he¡¯d come in life. So he ate, washed up, donned his Jackal suit, a refined black set, and headed into the Camp Violet administrative staff residential facility hallway. On the left side were doors to more rooms, while on the right side, at least in the section he lived in, was a one-way window stretching down the length of the path, disguised as nothing more than stone from the outside, watching over the length and width of the camp below. He couldn¡¯t help but pause as he took a glance. A satisfied smile perked up on his lips at the sight of the worker ants. Well, then, he¡¯d better hurry to make it in time for the meeting. As he strode into the meeting room, he arrived first, as usual. Being anything less than half an hour early meant being late by his standards¡ªand that went doubly so for the boss. One by one, the administration members strode in. Kayla, the tall Black woman working as the acquisitions director, was the first to arrive, sitting three seats to his left. They exchanged polite nods and idly chatted about the horrid living conditions. The park¡ªa designated area with a generation-seven fabricated sky projector and carefully designed flora¡ªwouldn¡¯t be finished for another three weeks! It had been months since any of them had seen the outside world, and it was driving them insane. Stephen had found a way to cope by spending extra time in the sensory deprivation chamber and the massage parlor, but his shoulders grew stiffer by the day. Kayla also said something about some hobby or something, but he hadn¡¯t been paying attention. Next, John, their skinny, meek accountant, arrived, followed by Marcus, Sven, Leah, Harry, Liam, and Bertram. All nine staff members gathered around the table, and the meeting started. The first topic of that day was the recent slump in productivity and what they could do about it. A few unfortunate issues, such as their previous cook who prepared the worker¡¯s meals refusing to extend his contract and an unexpected drop in herb collection, which made basic healing ointments and other productivity-boosting products more difficult to produce, were only some of the theorized reasons behind the sudden reduction in revenue. There had been a forecast of increased productivity due to the arrival of newer, more efficient equipment and better bags of holding, which made the situation even more complicated. After that, they briefly discussed the recent news in transportation. Due to a recently developed hovering mechanism, newer cargo ships could operate at twenty percent less cost. There were many resources they were merely keeping stored for the time being, as their transportation would spell a net loss for the company, so this was excellent news. Some more Starhold development updates were briefly discussed, and relevant information from sister camps, such as the female-only Camp Aquamarine, was covered, too. Then, the miscellaneous topics began, where any member could suggest a subject. Stephen hated this part but did his best to humor the suggestions. More often than not, it was some trivial malarkey that these goons brought forth to feel important. But as he grabbed a paper from Liam, the short, chubby man who worked as the head of the alchemy department, he was stunned. Squinting at the report and frowning at the man who had handed it to him, he read aloud, ¡°Staff Member: Observer Peter Vane; Notable Worker Activity Report. Subject: Freddy Stern. Report summary: After a bout at the designated combat arena where Subject displayed notable proficiency, he was spotted running deeper into the Wastes red zone. Escape motive likely to be fear of staff action in response to his combat performance¡­?¡± After reading it out loud, it didn¡¯t seem any less silly. ¡°Say,¡± he said, turning to Liam, ¡°why exactly are you suggesting this as a topic?¡± ¡°W-Well, uhm¡­¡± Liam stuttered, speaking rather quickly. ¡°I¡­ uh¡­ The worker mentioned¡­ in that report is a¡­ He is a very notable individual am-among the workforce. Has the third highest earnings record for a monthly period¡­ uhm¡­ and in foraging, at that, and the only reason he didn¡¯t get the first place was because he was attacked by an organized group of rebels and subsequently reduced his work time to a minimum,¡± he spluttered, pausing to take a breath. ¡°He was likely attacked due to the perceived ¡®special privileges¡¯ he received from the¡ª¡± ¡°Get to the point, Liam,¡± Stephen interrupted with a smile. ¡°We don¡¯t have all day.¡± ¡°Yes, uh¡­¡± The man paused to gather himself. ¡°I believe we should send a mercenary group after him.¡± ¡°Why?¡± he asked, putting the paper down on the desk. ¡°Recruiting someone for the mercenary department isn¡¯t meeting material.¡± ¡°Actually, that¡¯s precisely why I¡¯m bringing it up,¡± Liam said, regaining a bit of his confidence. ¡°I don¡¯t think this man should be recruited with the mercenary department. This man was a pretty no-notable source of high-quality herbs crucial in the production of several medicines, and I believe that his absence played a role in the recent slump. With how mu-much he could supply, we were planning to make some of the muscle fatigue¨Calleviating medicine and the localized healing skin cream available for purchase through temporary quota credit, which would¡ª¡± ¡°Yeah, but I don¡¯t understand,¡± he cut the man off, pinching his brow. ¡°As far as we know, he isn¡¯t even missing. He just ran out into the caverns. This report is from a few hours ago.¡± ¡°Still, I-I believe that checking u-up on him would be a wise choice,¡± Liam stubbornly continued. ¡°That man¡¯s performance in the arena wa-was ex-examplary. He had clearly been training for self-defense reasons, and he mi-might now fear retribution. If we can ease his fears, he¡¯ll be a valuable asset. If anything, I want hi-him to share what method he used to gather healthy herbs wi-with such precision and consistency. And, gi-given the numbers he was told to be earning, I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if he signed a-an extension to his work contract and decided to stay even af-after expiring.¡± ¡°Hmmm¡­ I see,¡± he said, nodding slightly, a bit irked that this seemed to actually be a somewhat valid topic. ¡°What about the combat prowess?¡± he asked. ¡°Oh¡­ right,¡± Liam said, shuffling some papers as he looked through them. ¡°The se-seven observes p-present, including the aforementioned P-Peter Vane ha-have estimated him to be¡­ elite in power and unknown in skill.¡± ¡°Elite in power?¡± several members asked at once and then turned to each other, whispering. ¡°Wait!¡± Harry, the tall man with long, curly hair and the head of the transport department, exclaimed. ¡°Isn¡¯t this the highest-classification guy!?¡± ¡°Yes, he is,¡± Liam confirmed. ¡°But th-that is irrelevant. He has uh¡­ He has been c-cleared for regular treatment, so h-he isn¡¯t dangerous.¡± ¡°Are you sure about that?¡± Marcus, the muscular chief security officer, added, speaking for the first time in the meeting. ¡°He showed elite power in a Wastes match. I¡¯ve seen the detailed report; his opponent was Lance Fetter, a man commonly referred to as ¡®Skull Crusher¡¯ in the arena. While Mr. Fetter isn¡¯t a particularly impressive warrior past his large build and above-average strength and toughness, Mr. Stern sent him flying like a damn ragdoll.¡± ¡°What are you trying to say?¡± Stephen asked. ¡°I think he¡¯s afraid for a reason,¡± the bulky man said. ¡°Making an example out of him only makes sense.¡± From a corner, a brunette woman with large glasses raised her hand. ¡°You may speak, Leah,¡± Stephen permitted. ¡°I do not believe,¡± she started in a high-pitched voice, ¡°that Mr. Stern will be a problem. According to his previously observed behavior, he has shown antisocial tendencies but hasn¡¯t been observed to be rebellious. If anything, he has shown himself to be rather non-conspiratorial in nature.¡± ¡°That just means he¡¯s smart,¡± Marcus said, scoffing. ¡°Let me ask you all something. Not even we are allowed to know why this man is here. But do you really think that someone involved in a ¡®highest-classification¡¯ ordeal, who arrived looking like that, then proceeded to make a near-perfect recovery while excelling in combat and foraging is just some regular guy?¡± he asked, frowning at them. ¡°We were warned to keep an eye out for any individuals that might exhibit unusual characteristics. Do I need to remind you all that this person was recently involved in an attack by six individuals, and he routed three, mortally wounded two, and killed one?¡± he said, leaving the others in contemplative silence. Before anyone could respond, he shifted in his chair, grabbed a piece of paper, and continued, ¡°You know, I¡¯ve been watching this guy for a while. I was going to mention him one of these days anyway. Apparently, he has been practically living somewhere in the caverns.¡± That elicited a few shocked gasps. Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. Bertram, the oldest-looking among them, the head of Human Resources, raised his hand. ¡°I¡¯ve been in contact with Marcus about this subject,¡± he said, getting everyone¡¯s attention. ¡°That man hasn¡¯t been eating or sleeping on camp, meaning he has been living rather self-sufficiently. If this was merely due to paranoia from having been attacked, it wouldn¡¯t be a detail of consequence. But judging by his physical condition, he isn¡¯t struggling.¡± ¡°My point exactly,¡± Marcus said. ¡°Thank you, Bertram. This is the main reason why I¡¯ve been keeping an eye on him. If that man has the resourcefulness to live outside of camp, he could become a giant pain in the ass in the blink of an eye. He¡¯s been cleared for regular treatment, so he¡¯s also been cleared for elimination. I say we deal with him immediately.¡± ¡°Whoa!¡± Liam half-yelled as he got up. ¡°That¡¯s a b-bit of a l-leap, don¡¯t you think!?¡± ¡°Calm down,¡± Stephen said. ¡°Marcus, Liam, please. We¡¯re in a professional setting. Your opinions have been noted. If none of you have anything else to add, it will be put up for a vote.¡± Nobody raised their hands. So he continued, ¡°All right then. All wanting to put an option to a vote, please raise your hands.¡± Liam and Marcus raised their hands. ¡°Liam, present first.¡± The short man got up and said, ¡°I-I believe we should a-approach M-Mr. Stern amicably and t-try to con-convince him that he i-isn¡¯t in danger.¡± ¡°Suggestion noted. Marcus, you¡¯re up.¡± The burly man rose and said, ¡°Send a kill squad.¡± ¡°Noted. I¡¯d also like to add a third option myself,¡± he said, getting up. ¡°I say we send a squad after him with priority on capture rather than elimination. Once he has been apprehended, we can take it from there and see whether he is up for making a deal with us.¡± He sat back down. ¡°Those in favor of Liam¡¯s suggestion, please raise your hands.¡± Only Liam¡¯s arm rose into the air. ¡°Those in favor of Marcus¡¯s suggestion, please raise your hands.¡± Marcus and Bertram cast their vote. ¡°All those in favor of my suggestion, please raise your hands.¡± Everyone else joined his own arm in the air, and he barely concealed a smirk. ¡°Very well then. Marcus, please¡­ ¡°File the request immediately.¡± *** Freddy sat in a pile of growth, wearing his camouflaged uniform. Peter soon arrived from a nearby cave and stood in the middle of the space before him. He took a long moment to confirm that nobody was following the silver-haired man, and once he did, he finally left the bush and revealed himself. The staff member handed him a paper, and he looked at it. It was a stamped copy of an official report claiming that Peter had witnessed him running away into the Wastes. Good. The man delivered on his promise and sent the dogs down the wrong trail. ¡°Hey Peter,¡± he called, not even raising his eyes off the report as he casually shared, ¡°I know the location of a unique blood remnant that the Kraven patriarch wants to get his hands on.¡± The man¡¯s facial expression instantly darkened, and he asked with a shiver in his voice, ¡°Why¡­ Why would you tell me that?¡± Freddy stared him right in the eyes with a casual smirk as he winked and said, ¡°Now that you know something you¡¯re not supposed to know, you won¡¯t be sharing your involvement with me any time soon. Sorry, mate, nothing personal. I just want to make sure you don¡¯t stab me in the back.¡± Peter bit his lower lip and nodded, beads of sweat appearing on his forehead. ¡°So,¡± he said as he handed him the copy of the report, ¡°how about we discuss the details?¡± Thus, the two men sat down. Peter started. ¡°On top of my observation, I work in the storage facility in the alchemical products department. I could possibly sneak you into a transportation box that would take you into Starhold, but once you get there, you¡¯d have to somehow escape the warehouse and¡­ dodge the security check.¡± He stared at the man pointedly. ¡°What?¡± he asked. ¡°That¡¯s my plan,¡± Peter said. ¡°And?¡± Frowning, Peter asked, ¡°And what?¡± ¡°That¡¯s all you have?¡± he asked incredulously. ¡°For now, yes.¡± As if magnetically attracted to one another, the palm of his hand met his forehead in one of the loudest facepalms he had ever made in his life. ¡°Peter,¡± he said. ¡°No offense, but that¡¯s a really stupid idea.¡± The man deflated. ¡°I understand that this isn¡¯t likely to work. But this place isn¡¯t called an inescapable prison for no reason,¡± he said. ¡°It will take me some time to develop a more legitimate plan.¡± ¡°And what am I supposed to do until then?¡± ¡°Until then?¡± Peter asked. ¡°You should hide.¡± *** On the edge of the Wastes, three people stood side by side at a lesser-known entrance. On the left was a woman of average height wearing thick steel armor, her hair concealed beneath a practical, simple helmet. Her equipment shone with a polished sheen and formed an elegant, functional, stylish, and modern design that openly flexed every penny it cost. Her weapon was a long axe with a tzenekite-imbued steel axe head and a synthetic carbon-hennezium handle. On the right was another woman, over a head taller, dressed in slightly less heavy armor that permitted more flexibility, with a greater focus on synthetic material made to allow a greater range of movement and more speed. At her hip was a saber made of a hard, crystalline material called fertren, which could resist chipping even under direct impact with another blade. And in the middle was a black-haired man shorter than his two companions. He had no armor, as it got in the way of his talent and fire-affinity abilities, so standing in his loose black shirt, protective glasses, and without any headgear, he looked the least imposing of the three. ¡°Get a move on it,¡± the tall woman, or, rather, Hellen, said to the other two as she strode forward. The other two followed. After walking a short while, the other woman, Jenny, groaned, ¡°I freaking hate going into this place. Gives me the heebie-jeebies.¡± ¡°What do you think made the Wastes?¡± Joshua asked. ¡°Last I heard, most of it was explored, and nothing of note was found.¡± ¡°Maybe like¡­¡± she pondered, ¡°alien termites?¡± ¡°Focus on the mission, you two,¡± Hellen warned, ¡°and stop blabbering. You¡¯ll alert the target of our presence. Josh, keep your eyes peeled. Any heat signatures are designated as foes by default.¡± ¡°Aight, captain,¡± he said somewhat sarcastically. They made their way through the caves, finding nothing of note. As they went, Joshua looked increasingly more disturbed. ¡°What¡¯s up, Joshua?¡± Jenny asked. ¡°You okay?¡± ¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± he said. ¡°It¡¯s just unusual to see no heat signatures of any kind anywhere. I feel like I¡¯m blind. This place is weird.¡± They strode through open caverns and dove into tight passageways, finding nothing of note. There weren¡¯t even any passages, which was the weirdest part. What on earth could have prevented even them from appearing? Eventually, they reached a dead end. Just as they were about to turn around and head down a different path, Joshua exclaimed, ¡°Wait!¡± The other two turned to face him. ¡°What is it?¡± Hellen asked. ¡°Look up there!¡± he directed with a point of his finger aimed at the spot he was looking at. They both turned to where he was pointing but found nothing. ¡°Are you okay?¡± Hellen asked, no humor in her tone. ¡°Yeah, uh¡­ Sorry, I forgot you guys can¡¯t see heat, just,¡± he said, pointing at a section of the ceiling, ¡°that part of the wall up there is cold. Much colder than its surroundings.¡± ¡°Is that¡­ bad?¡± Jenny asked. He breathed in and half-turned to face them. ¡°Well, I don¡¯t know,¡± he admitted, ¡°but that probably means there is a passage up there, just behind the wall. That¡¯s the only explanation I have.¡± ¡°So uh¡­¡± Jenny started. ¡°Get the fuck out and report?¡± ¡°We are contractually obligated to check any passages we encounter for immediate danger,¡± Hellen reminded, ¡°so that¡¯s exactly what we¡¯re going to do.¡± ¡°I¡­¡± Joshua said. ¡°I really¡­ really don¡¯t like this, guys. I don¡¯t know; something about this is really triggering my instincts. I think Jenny might be right.¡± Hellen turned to him, and he could feel her frown even through her face protection. ¡°We are going to be penalized for ignoring this if we turn around,¡± she said. ¡°You feel free to leave, but I have no interest in letting cowardice cost me a paycheck.¡± ¡°There is no proof that we¡¯ve been here,¡± Joshua begged. ¡°Besides, that thing is buried behind a wall. We keep things quiet and walk away. Please.¡± ¡°I told you,¡± she repeated. ¡°Feel free to leave.¡± With awkward glances at each other, Jenny and Joshua caved in and stepped forward. The two women were both earth-affinity archs, so they, through a collaborative effort, manipulated the nearby stone into forming a set of stairs that took them up to the frigid patch of rock. With a few swings of the flat side of her axe, Jenny broke through the wall and revealed a small, empty space¡ª And a circular, meter-wide passage on the ceiling, glowing with a murky, gray light. There was something off about it, and even Hellen could feel it. But they had already staked their pride on entering, so rather than following their guts, they made their way up, crouching through the tiny space until they reached their destination. Hellen made her way up first, followed by Jenny, and finally Joshua. ¡°Holy¡­¡± Jenny whispered. The sky was a monotone gray mist, and the floor was made of gigantic, square stone tiles at least ten meters wide. And that was it. The empty, featureless sky and the recurring flooring stretched endlessly in all directions. Dizzyingly far. More than even the mind-bogglingly vast horizons of Faralethal¡¯s surface. The three of them swallowed as one. ¡°All right¡­¡± Hellen said cautiously. ¡°I see what you were talking about. I don¡¯t see anything. Check the Netherecho.¡± Joshua closed his eyes. But then he opened them again. ¡°I¡­¡± he whispered as his eyes dulled and turned to his two companions. ¡°Yes,¡± he agreed to something, ¡°I do want that¡­¡± ¡°Josh?¡± Hellen asked, waving a hand in front of his face. ¡°Jenny, check the Netherecho.¡± ¡°I¡ª¡± ¡°I said check the Netherecho!¡± she screamed out, and the other woman obeyed reluctantly. And as soon as she did, she started screaming. Her voice grew coarse from how loudly she was yelling, and she clawed at her body, trying to peel something away while screaming, ¡°Get away from me! Get awa¡ª¡± Suddenly, Joshua¡¯s arm flew out and grabbed Hellen by her neck, displaying a strength that bent the synthetic material protecting her as he squeezed and pulled her down. His eyes stared directly into hers, and she watched his pupils turn into an eerie square shape. ¡°Who are you, woman?¡± he asked softly in a strange accent, and she reached for her saber but found moving her arm nearly impossible as something grabbed it. Was it an invisible spirit? Jenny was still screaming bloody murder, and Hellen, unable to do anything, dove into the Netherecho in a last-ditch attempt to find out what was happening. And then she went limp, her eyes twisting into a square shape all the same as Joshua¡¯s did. ¡°Ah, I see,¡± he said. ¡°A comrade.¡± The being possessing Hellen¡¯s body ripped his arm out of the clutch around her neck and spat. ¡°You have assisted me,¡± it said, ¡°so I will humor your companionship until we discover where we are.¡± As Jenny finally calmed herself and tried getting up, her two companions turned to her. Square eyes watching, piercing deep into her soul. Chapter 40 - Shrinking Path They said that Janhalar, the reigning patriarch of the Kraven Clan, smiled only once in his life. It wasn¡¯t when his child was born, nor was it when he underwent his marriage ceremony. The only time he had ever truly smiled was when he reached the third star and evolved his talent. To the Kraven, blood was all, and his was particularly special. Aptly named Blood of the Patriarch, his talent made his blood incredibly potent. Whether in creating blood-attuned equipment or for alchemical purposes, the liquid running through his veins was like pure gold to any blood-affinity archhuman. Even drinking it raw was said to increase the richness and quality of one¡¯s own blood, purifying their bone marrow and cleansing their veins. In its crimson greatness, his blood was like a key that could unlock the potential of any other blood it was mixed into, while itself having superb quality and combat application. So that was why, at that moment, for the second time ever, while digging through trash in a dump yard like the lowest of subhuman scum, he was grinning from ear to ear. With the acquisition of a unique blood remnant, not only could he create an incredibly potent new ability, but he could also acquire a unique affinity. Perhaps that could push him enough to earn himself a fifth star, a step that he hadn¡¯t been able to make much progress toward for over thirty years, finding himself stuck at 90% completion of his fourth star. He picked up a broken dishwasher as if it weighed less than a feather and flung it behind his back, then he morphed his blood to shovel further underneath it. No response from his ring. But he knew that it was close. Anywhere between a few hours from that point to a few days at the latest, it would be in his grasp. Finally. After so long. After losing all hope, reality finally saw reason and corrected its error. Finally. He would be victorious. As he had always been fated to. *** Camp Violet, as dangerous, filthy, and exhausting as it might have been, was the hope of many archhumans¡ªa light shining at the end of a long, dark tunnel. For many, the damp environment of the caves was an upgrade to the subhuman imprisonment standards of the Kraven facilities. Here, there was warmth sometimes; there was a goal to strive for, a way out. There was hope. But some, try as they may, couldn¡¯t outpace the inflation of their debt. Breaking or losing equipment was punished severely. Breaking or losing a limb was punished even worse. Through the maze of tents, a disgruntled giant pushed his way forward. It was true; he was no hero. He was no great warrior, despite his physique leading many to believe otherwise. Cupping the still-tender wound on his chest, he, who was nicknamed Skull Crusher, prayed for a quick return to the Wastes. It wasn¡¯t just a place to settle grievances and have fun. Many placed bets and forged contracts, which the camp staff happily enforced in a way that benefitted them the most¡ªby cutting credit or enforcing stricter daily quotas to force one worker to repay the debt of another. For him, who had had a five-million-dollar debt, which had shrunk to just under four million recently, a successful career as a ring-fighter was his only way of even dreaming of repaying it. With his affinity for earth and impressive body, he had a place there. With his talent, Enhanced Sense of Smell, he was fated to never be able to reach the top. Several lesser men got out of his way as he angrily brushed past them. The thick forest of tents was a pain to navigate, and the poor lighting wasn¡¯t much help. What the hell kind of crazy talent did that snitch bastard have? Weren¡¯t the ones with powerful combat talents supposed to be barred from even joining this expedition? And if they were, meaning if that bastard indeed didn¡¯t have anything special¡­ He sighed. If that man didn¡¯t have an impressive talent, he certainly had remarkable potential. But it was fine, he admitted begrudgingly. He never wanted to be a warrior anyway. He wanted to be a master chef. If only he hadn¡¯t given in to his greed and poisoned¡ª The sudden, unexpected shattering of a nearby lantern made him jump in a way that made both his existing wound ache and added another to his pride. ¡°What the¡ª¡± he asked in his deep voice. The lamp was shattered, and the small fire crystal was exposed to the open air. Back in his days in the kitchen, he had worked with many of those, so he knew how strictly they were designed with utmost safety in mind. Once broken, the fire crystal would¡ª It was supposed to cool rapidly and deactivate¡­ but it didn¡¯t. At all. The small shard started glowing brighter before his eyes, and then it set aflame. ¡°You gotta be joking!¡± Thankfully, if he recalled correctly, the tents were made of fire-proof material. But as the crystal finally got hot enough to burn through the metallic shell it was trapped within, it dropped onto the tent cloth¡ªwhich started burning. With an ability, he pulled a large block of earth up and kicked it onto the tent, but it was useless; the blaze was spreading fast, unnaturally so. The faintest of sparks merely touched the edge of his uniform, landing on the sleeve of his leg. Then, it burned, igniting a yellow inferno that scorched red, violet, and finally pure white as it spread to his entire body. With the hot air turning his lungs into pure ash, he couldn¡¯t even muster a scream, merely falling soundlessly on the soil as the hellish flames spread to another tent. And from far away, from the distant entrance to the open caverns, a pair of square-pupiled eyes blazed with the bloody orange light of a devil. *** He observed the screams of the filthy skin monkeys as they scattered away from his unholy flames. Their primitive huts burned violently, and just over two-thirds were already ash. But his eyes already bled. Grabbing his head to push away the headache, he laughed somberly. ¡°I could once turn cities to ash with a glance¡­ and now look at me. Look what I have been reduced to.¡± His companion, the swordmaster who had taken the body of a tall female of the ape race, glared at him with her unnerving eyes. She cocked her head and mused, ¡°What were you?¡± ¡°A lord among the proud kalishitt race,¡± he declared. ¡°A demon of six stars. What about you?¡± he asked in turn. ¡°A champion,¡± she said, ¡°of the beautiful poppolone beastkin. Also of six stars.¡± ¡°I see,¡± he said with a nod. ¡°And what power is it that made you a champion?¡± Rather than say anything, she raised the admittedly high-quality crystal saber in her right hand. With a minor flick of her other wrist, a near-identical copy of the weapon appeared, one with a phantasmal shine. Watching the burning, screaming creatures rushing toward them, she swung her arm and threw the copy of the weapon. As it took flight, it did not spin, but it flew with the delicate grace of a mighty arrow, straight and true, right through the forehead of a hairless male. With his death, another copy appeared, one that she threw straight through the body of another victim and into the stomach of a second. With that, two copies appeared, and with the use of an ability, she kept both crystal weapons afloat. His eyes widened slightly at seeing that. So she also had an advanced affinity, then? Crystal, and maybe even metal. Impressive. Then she launched them, killing three. Three weapons appeared. Then she killed five, and yet again, the same number of weapons appeared floating around her. ¡°I see,¡± he said. ¡°A talent worthy of a champion.¡± *** Stephen¡¯s phone was a cacophony of ringing and overlapping voices. With a press of both thumbs, he silenced everyone except the surveillance officer. ¡°Tell me immediately!¡± he demanded. ¡°What the hell is happening!?¡± ¡°Less than a minute ago, a large fire enveloped the camp!¡± the voice came, oozing with panic and confusion. ¡°There is¡­ I¡­¡± ¡°Request the mercenaries!¡± ¡°They¡¯re there, sir,¡± the surveillance officer responded strickenly. ¡°Th-They were there.¡± *** ¡°J-Josh¡­ Hellen¡­¡± A kneeling, armless, burned skin ape, who had moments ago stood with the pride of a life and water affinity warrior of three stars, now begged like a miserable worm. ¡°What¡­ What ha-happened to you guys!?¡± he cried. ¡°Where is this power coming¡ª¡± Thankfully, the saber woman cut his words¡ªand head¡ªoff, ending the pathetic whining. ¡°My name is Firrita,¡± she finally introduced herself. ¡°Or it had been. I do not know who or what I am anymore,¡± she echoed his very thoughts. ¡°I vaguely remember who I was and what I stood for¡­ but the details are vague. And most of the power I once held seems to have been lost.¡± Whatever had happened to them, they were both in the same situation. ¡°I would never betray my kin,¡± she said, ¡°was what I truly believed when I was myself. Now, while I embody one of these soft, fleshy underground dwellers, I do not accept them as my own.¡± Then, she turned to him. ¡°You are the closest I have to a kindred.¡± He smiled at her. If it had any use to him, he¡¯d stab her in the back in the blink of an eye, having no such pathetic weaknesses himself. But having a temporary servant was just what he needed. ¡°My name is Kaefalge,¡± he introduced himself as well. ¡°I used to be Sanae Illitit Kaefalge, but that title holds no more weight. We could be anywhere in the Great Labyrinthe, meaning we will likely never find our old homes.¡± He raised his hand, offering her an arm-lock. ¡°An alliance is the best choice for both of us.¡± She reflexively presented her arm with an open palm before pulling it back. He raised an eyebrow at her. ¡°Is that the greeting of your people?¡± ¡°No¡­¡± she denied. ¡°That seems to be the way these dwellers greet one another. This body still holds some habits from its previous owner.¡± He squinted at her. ¡°Ah¡­ I see¡­ I believe I feel the same pull myself. Very well. That is how we shall greet each other then.¡± He offered her the same gesture. ¡°A grasp of the hands. An elegant greeting, indeed.¡± ¡°What the fuck!?¡± something screamed from their side, and they both turned to face one of the apes who seemingly just returned to its settlement. It was a man with silver hair and striking blue eyes. It didn¡¯t take long for him to register their presence. As soon as he did, he turned around, running back into the caves as fast as he could. Kaefalge raised his hand, preparing to throw a flame lance at the fleeing target, but Firrita grabbed him by the wrist, stopping his attack. ¡°What is the meaning of this?¡± he asked. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you intend to spare that creature?¡± ¡°Not at all,¡± she declared. ¡°I merely wish to give you a suggestion.¡± He raised an eyebrow. ¡°My people,¡± she said, ¡°we have a tradition.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± he mused. ¡°And what is this tradition you speak of?¡± She smiled at him. ¡°New friends bond through a hunt.¡± He smiled back at her. ¡°Very well.¡± *** The nine head administrators of Camp Violet appeared on the surface, leaving through a hidden elevator with only them in tow. It was an emergency evacuation, so they had to go at once. They all looked ill for one reason or another. Some out of fear, some out of worry or guilt. But Stephen felt sick knowing he had just lost so¡­ so much money. Up on the surface, in a concealed hangar, was a ship. It was an elegant shape of steel construction, resembling a giant pill with windows. They boarded it, and Stephen prepared to push a button. But before he could, Liam rushed over, gripped his arm, and pulled it back. Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°Liam,¡± Stephen said, frustration boiling over. ¡°What on New Earth are you doing!?¡± ¡°I-I¡­¡± the man tried. ¡°We¡­ There is¡­ The sh-ship is¡­ It¡¯s big. Th-there is sp-space for a-at least t-twenty more people,¡± he said, sweating profusely. Stephen gritted his teeth. ¡°All right, then, anyone in favor of putting this stupid idea to the vote, raise your hands.¡± Nobody did. So Stephen pushed the¡ª ¡°Wait!¡± Liam yelled, holding his arm tighter. ¡°Marcus!¡± Stephen barked, and the burly man got up and smacked Liam on the back of his head, knocking him out instantly¡­ Then, without any further protest, Stephen finally pressed the button. The ship started, lifted off the ground, and flew off into the distance¡ª Abandoning the camp to its fate. *** Peter ran for his life. ¡°Fuck!¡± he screamed as he dodged out of the way of a phantasmal saber, nearly slipping on the wet rock. He needed help. And he needed it soon. So he ran as fast as he could toward¡ª Suddenly, a fireball exploded to his left, burning half of his body and sending him tumbling to the ground. The vision in his left eye went blank. The feeling in most of his body disappeared. With the looming threat of death hanging above him, he did the only thing he could do. He screamed for help. *** Freddy sat leaning against a wall in his secret hideout, banging his head repeatedly against the stony cavern wall. He couldn¡¯t help but sigh. He was so tired. Tired of hoping, tired of working. Tired of always having to escape one problem or another. There wasn¡¯t much risk of him getting captured. It wasn¡¯t like he was easy to identify¡ªmuscular, average-height men with black hair weren¡¯t all that hard to find, and it was likely that he would be deemed dead before long. The man helping him, Peter, was just another desperate, selfish prick trying to claw his way up in the world. So it was again that he found himself alone, part of him waiting to see what that man cooked up and another part trying to think of his own plan. For now, training was his best option. There was no harm in gathering more power. His star was at around 71% of its capacity, and as long as he fought some monsters in the caves, he should have no problem reaching the second star. What he would do after that was for later. Perhaps with enough searching, he would find the right opportunity, but¡­ it was getting depressing. The caves were a lonely place¡ªat the best of times. And he was tired of being alone. He missed Mark. Honestly, he¡¯d kiss the man on his forehead if he saw him. There was also Steve, the gym trainer, even though he was a bit of a prick. And James, Sharon¡­ All of those people he had taken for granted. He had taken people for granted in general. At that moment, he did not want anything more than peace and good friends. Suddenly, the faint sound of screaming reached his ears. It was barely audible, and he was surprised to have noticed it. He got closer to the pile of rocks that blocked the entrance into his cave and shifted it aside, carefully listening, trying to puzzle out if it was anything he had to be concerned about¡ª And immediately realized that it very much was. Because whoever it was, they were screaming his name. Carefully making his way out, he followed the faint echoes as they first got louder, then quieter. *** Kaefalge basked in their prey¡¯s agony, feeling his heart bubbling in joy at the music of the pitiful creature¡¯s wails of suffering. ¡°I missed this,¡± he said. ¡°It feels like I haven¡¯t properly enjoyed myself in a long, long time.¡± Firrita raised her hand. ¡°Be quiet. Its calls might attract another of its species. My instincts tell me he hadn¡¯t been running in this direction for no reason.¡± Kaefalge would never tolerate being told to stay quiet. But he humored the woman. She could consider it a reward for not being as soft as he feared her to be. Not too long after, just as their prey was reaching its wit¡¯s end¡­ another of its species arrived at its call. From where they were hiding, Firrita raised her saber to throw it at the man who arrived, but this time, Kaefalge was the one to stop her. ¡°No¡­¡± he whispered, grinning wickedly. ¡°Let us observe.¡± *** After a few minutes, Freddy reached the clearing where he had met with Peter, only to find the man in the same place again. ¡°Fre¡­ Fre-ddy¡ª¡± This time, however, he was lying on the floor, covered in ash and soot. Half his body had been severely burned, his silver hair was charred to a crisp, and a good chunk of his face was missing. His left eye hung outside its socket, flat, deflated, and barely holding on to its nerve. His uniform was singed, and the synthetic material had partly melted and fused with his skin. ¡°Fraeeh¡­ Freeeddy¡­ Hel-Help me. Help me,¡± the man cried through his wounded throat, spitting blood as he forced his words out. ¡°I¡¯m dying,¡± he said. ¡°I-I¡¯m going to die.¡± He took shaky steps back from the injured man. ¡°My eye,¡± the man wheezed weakly. ¡°My body¡­ Help¡­ I can¡¯t feel my¡ª¡± Peter tried. ¡°I can¡¯t¡­¡± A strong urge to puke overwhelmed Freddy as he leaned to the side, ejecting the concoction of mushrooms he had consumed that day onto the slippery cavern floor. ¡°What the fuck!?¡± he screamed, breathing heavily. ¡°What the hell happened!?¡± ¡°The camp¡­¡± the man breathed out. ¡°Fire¡­¡± he said, raising his one good eye as it widened. ¡°They¡­¡± was the last he mustered as he lost consciousness. After approaching him and placing a careful finger on the man¡¯s neck, on the unburned side, he confirmed it. His successive few heartbeats came, each slower than the previous one, and then they stopped altogether. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he tried to think. ¡°The camp¡­ Fire? They?¡± he whispered in a panic, turning to face the path to the camp. He swore he could hear a faint, distant sound, but it might have been his imagination. The camp wasn¡¯t too far from his hiding place, but the maze of paths would certainly kill any noise before it could reach him. He swallowed. What should he do? Had the camp been destroyed? A lump appeared in his throat as he had a terrifying realization. Could¡­ Could it be an eidolon? Or perhaps a monster of similar strength? If not, then¡­ what? They? Who was the man talking about? Suddenly, the spacious cavern felt like it was closing in on him. The only reason he was even remotely safe standing there was because the surrounding area was regularly cleared of monsters. If¡­ If the camp had suffered irreparable damage¡­ ¡°Oh, shit!¡± he hissed. ¡°Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit¡­¡± There was a reason why the camp didn¡¯t keep their prisoners leashed. If he was abandoned here, the chances of ever reaching civilization were¡­ nonexistent. ¡°What the hell do I do then!?¡± he asked nobody in particular as he grabbed a handful of his hair with both hands. It wasn¡¯t like he could go back and check! That was suicide! No¡­ actually¡­ wait¡­ He cupped his chin as his thoughts ran an anxious race. If the camp had really been destroyed, it was likely that somebody would be sent to investigate. Could he use that to his advantage? His eyes slowly traveled to the charred corpse beside his feet. He swallowed. Leaning down, he carefully checked the man¡¯s clothes, wincing whenever he touched anything gooey. To his dismay, the stench of charred flesh wasn¡¯t at all unpleasant, and the contrast between the smell of roasted meat and the sight before him made him feel sick to the stomach. Eventually, he managed to find an ID. It was a pretty well-concealed piece of plastic that clearly identified the man as a staff member. Freddy bit his nails anxiously. It had a picture of Peter¡¯s face, but the heat had lightly melted it, bending the plastic ever-so-slightly and making it difficult to tell. Still, it was clearly a young man with silver hair. He felt the short stubble of black hair on the top of his head. He had no idea how he¡¯d disguise it, but if he could find something¡­ A thought came to mind, and he swallowed as he looked at the corpse again. Indeed, while he didn¡¯t have silver hair, neither did the burn victim who lay lifeless beside him. All that was left on his head were nasty burns. ¡­ What if he burned his own face and hair off? That would make him utterly unrecognizable. He was a bit bulkier than Peter, but that was nothing that a bit of starvation and intense cardio couldn¡¯t change. On top of that, they were of similar height, and if he burned his vocal cords, nobody could recognize him by his speech, either. But there was also Abyssal Depths. His body weight was clearly unnaturally high, so he had to devise a technique to undo the water density and return to a normal body weight. Finally, something akin to an actual plan began forming in his mind. It was likely that, if not soon, someone would eventually come along. And he¡­ no¡­ Peter Vane would be found hiding in the caves, his face and body having suffered severe burns and his vocal cords having been damaged beyond repair. For a moment, he felt like a stranger in his own body. He cackled mirthlessly and pushed those feelings down. When it came to survival, there was no place for questioning himself. No matter what he had to do. With all the resolve he could muster, he grabbed the dead body by the unburnt arm and rushed to a pit several caverns away, where he promptly hid it and then threw several large stones to bury it. It would be eaten by bugs soon enough. Returning back to his secret cave, he closed the entrance. The hand holding the ID card shook profusely, and he accidentally dropped it. Picking it back up, he decided to put this thing somewhere safe. He didn¡¯t trust himself to not lose it. Eventually, he found an easily identifiable little nook, wrapped the ID into some cloth he severed from his own uniform, placed it inside, and then put a large, marked rock to cover it. Then¡­ it was time for the most challenging part. The burns will have to look convincing. They had to look as if he had gotten them around this time. It wouldn¡¯t be easy. Perhaps he could use a fire crystal from one of the lanterns, and with essence manipulation, he could make water evaporate, meaning he could dry some leaves or roots with relative ease and use them as kindling. Taking a deep breath and swallowing the sick feeling swelling up in his throat, he shifted the rock to the entrance to leave and find a¡ª A sudden burst of fire pulverized the rock he was holding. He was sent flying back, tumbling over the short distance as he flopped into the underground lake. A shard of stone had nicked him in the eye, and he had notable burns over his body, even though he hadn¡¯t broken anything. Shit! he cursed internally. Had the thing that destroyed the camp been chasing after Peter!? His mind whirled. There was only one entrance to the cavern above. Did whatever had attacked him know that he was in there? He had no clue, but he knew that swimming up to the surface would be a stupid idea. Shifting the water around his body, he rapidly sank to the bottom of the lake. With his level of fitness, he could probably last a while. During that time, he simply had to stay still and not move. Out of fear that simply remaining at the bottom of the lake left him exposed, he used water manipulation to push his body further. His left eye bled profusely; it was dark, and even with the water affinity, he hadn¡¯t worked on developing an underwater ocular ability. He simply moved to wherever it was darkest to ensure he was as hidden as possible. As he sank deeper into the shadow, he felt algae tendrils tickling the surface of his skin, but he kept going deeper. Grasping a few pieces of algae, he pulled them apart, hoping to heal himself a bit. To his surprise, however, the stifling feeling in his lungs lessened. His one good eye shot open. Could supreme-quality healing undo¡­ asphyxiation? Another grab of some plants confirmed that theory. That calmed him down a bit. He had more time than he initially thought, then. Grabbing one herb after another, he kept sinking deeper into the small hole to ensure that he was as hidden as he could be. Just when he thought to stop, his hand touched something gooey. With a reflex of such speed that it was impossible to avoid, a tentacle wrapped around his shoulder, just under his armpit, and started pulling him in deeper. What the fu¡ª he yelped internally, caught off-guard by the sudden appearance of a monster. But before he could do anything about it, the limb pulled harder, dragging him into a tight, jagged hole where the rough edges cut and bruised his skin, leaving large open gashes all over his body. After a few turbulent seconds, he found himself being sucked into the maw of a giant octopus thrice the size of his body. Rushing to grab the dagger sheathed on his belt, he stabbed repeatedly while the horrid creature bit his leg with a beaked maw, tearing deep into his thigh. He screamed, losing all the air in his lungs as he pushed Flowing Strike into his swings. The rush of lifesteal slightly alleviated the pain, and after another few good stabs, the creature stopped moving. With the haze of blood surrounding him, he could barely see where he was, but one thing stood out¡ªit was bright. Swimming up, it took him a mere few moments to find himself on the shore of a miniature lake in a tropical forest. ¡°What the¡­!?¡± Had he just been dragged through a passage? While that had been a terrible experience that left him horribly injured, it might have also possibly saved his life, so he supposed that it kind of evened out. The trees surrounding him were a violently saturated green in color, and what little growth there was around his feet was bushy and yellow. Up above, he spotted the sky, but it was unusual, shimmering with a strange, shifting light. Making his way to a small clearing, holding his bleeding thigh, and occasionally stabbing a tree he passed to heal a bit, he finally saw it. ¡°Wow,¡± he couldn¡¯t stop himself from breathing out in awe. The fake sky hiding behind giant floating rocks appeared like the surface of a liquid when viewed from below. It shimmered and shifted with the turbulent fluctuation of a large body of water, and every few seconds, a wave passed by, leaving a shimmering trail of glittery, scattered glow behind. It was beautiful. He hoped there were no more monsters around. A short while of stabbing short bushes and trees later, his leg was doing well enough for him to stand on, and it at least wasn¡¯t bleeding anymore. A strange sight caught his eye through the thick, tropical growth, and he slowly approached it, cautiously observing his environment. As he finally exited the bushy forest, he walked onto a beautiful, picturesque beach. An ocean spread distantly in all directions, and every so often, a colorful shape jumped out of it in a short-lived leap, likely the activity of fish or whatever those things were; it was hard to see from afar. Judging that there was no active threat, he pulled back, ensuring he didn¡¯t step too close to the water. He didn¡¯t want a repeat of what happened just a few minutes ago. As he pulled back, he took another swing at a tree. Frankly, these things held a lot more vitality than seemed obvious. He hadn¡¯t been at it for long, but his condition was already improving. So he took another swing. As he stabbed it, something felt deeply wrong. It was as if the entire world had leaned at the slightest of angles, but enough for him to realize something wasn¡¯t right. Then, the soil began vibrating. The sea started roiling. The entire island lifted, and he lost his footing. As he fell to the ground, he saw the titanic shadow of a long, snaky head rising from beneath the ocean¡¯s surface as it turned to look at him. The dozens of pearly eyes adorning the head of something akin to a blend of a dragon and a turtle homed in on him. The creature spread its jaw wide open, and its tongue split into hundreds of tentacles that rushed at him. There wasn¡¯t an appropriate way to react. There was no chance of escape. Not a single coherent thought went through his head as one of the tendrils grabbed him by the leg, pulled him high into the sky, and dragged him into the maw of the leviathan. *** Bloodshed felt it. Master was in trouble. Deep trouble. More trouble than all the other trouble he had been in combined, and the path of blood was rapidly drying up. It had to remain obedient. But¡­ what was the point if there was nobody to obey? In the underground beneath it, it felt the closest path to Master. Pulling itself down, it moved from one tight space to another, eventually dropping into what seemed to be a carriage buried beneath tons and tons of trash. And in that carriage, right on what used to be its roof, there was a passage. It had to hurry. This was the first of many steps it would have to take. But it would do anything to get there in time. *** Janhalar whistled cheerfully, and he scooped up another pile of garbage. At that moment, he felt like there wasn¡¯t a single thing that could ruin his mood¡ªand it took but a moment for him to regret that thought. The ring on his finger, the focus of the intense resonance, the feeling he had been basking in¡­ Suddenly went deathly quiet. [BOOK ONE FINALE] Chapter 41 - Unscarred of Fates Filthy Hands Being dragged into the mouth of the beast left Freddy frozen stiff, terrified beyond what he believed was possible; his hand clutched the dagger in a death grip, but his shoulder was locked, making him incapable of even taking a swing, and as the numerous sharp teeth flew right past his face, he was left helpless, practically waiting for the creature to close its maw and skewer him with hundreds of spiked, needle-like protrusions. But it didn¡¯t. Instead, he was dragged to the back of the throat as the giant monstrosity likely deemed him too small to even bother chewing; the tentacle squeezed hard enough to snap his spine and several other bones, then he was pushed down into pure darkness where, with his body mangled, he was helpless to resist as the hot, stinky, slippery throat swallowed, crushing his body again and pushing him further on a dizzying journey where up and down and left and right and front and behind blended into a singularity he couldn¡¯t escape. He tried cutting with the dagger, but the flesh was more akin to slippery metal than actual organic tissue, and without any foothold, he could apply practically no force to his strikes. In an instant, the suffocating tunnel of tight muscle disappeared, and he fell in a short freefall, splashing back-first against a liquid that immediately began sizzling. He screamed, and the breath he took after burned so badly that his lungs felt as if they were melting. The stomach acid of the beast was intense; the upper layer of his skin was already succumbing to its corrosive might, and with the depth of the liquid and the constant sloshing as the beast moved, he had no chance of making it anywhere. He was rapidly approaching a state of unconsciousness, and he knew that if he did, it was over¡ªdeath was inevitable. A sudden lurch sent him tumbling against the wall of the stomach, and his dagger nicked the hard edge. Yet again, the stomach was far too strong to succumb to the sharp piece of metal in his hands, and in the next moment, he had already tumbled back into the liquid, continuing his swim to the other shore of river Styx. Time was running out. Each moment, the distinction between the pitch-black darkness and the encroaching unconsciousness grew blurrier. He lifted his hand and cast Create Water. A large-basin-worth of liquid flowed out of his hand, washing over him and temporarily diluting the acid. With that, his mind cleared just a bit, but enough to think properly for a moment¡ªenough for him to swim forward, pushing through the pain until he reached the wall of the stomach, and then take a swing imbued with Flowing Strike. The dagger sank only a few centimeters into the surface, but it was enough for 1% Lifesteal to send a powerful wave of healing through his body, doing little of substance but clearing his mind enough to give him some hope that his plan was possible¡ªuntil the entire world started vibrating. The creature screamed with such fervor that the stomach acid began evaporating, and his hearing was destroyed in an instant. The intense vibration nearly shook his heart apart, but he pushed through and took another swing. The leviathan began shifting, writhing in pain, and he was flung to the other side of the stomach, where he attacked again. Time was running out faster than expected, and there was no way to breathe as his lungs had been corroded away, and he was rapidly suffocating. With the small dagger and his insufficient strength, there was no way for him to cling to the stomach for longer than a single stab, after which he¡¯d be thrown back into the depths of acidic hell. Only a single, reckless gamble stood before him, the only thing keeping the fear of unavoidable demise at bay¡ªhe dove into the pool of sloshing acid, its rotten, putrid currents near impossible to maneuver through. But one Create Water after another diluted the viscous liquid enough for him to swim forward, even though he had no clue which direction to swim in. Eventually, he reached the bottom of the stomach and followed the edge along the path he assumed went down, even though that was barely a reliable sign. Luck was on his side, and fortune must have found his situation funny enough to humor him. There, he discovered the entrance that led him deeper into the intestines, where the liquid grew thicker, and the acid more powerful. The entire surface of his skin was already damaged beyond repair through ordinary means, and death by shock was seconds away. With what little essence he had remaining, he engaged Hydraulic Flex, bracing his feet against one side of the intestine and pushed his dagger into the other, and despite putting damn-near everything he had into it, the blade barely sank into the surface. He was completely deaf, but the vibrations traveling through the viscous liquid told him the intestine¡¯s owner wasn¡¯t happy with his plan. With the last of his essence, a Flowing Strike flowed through his body, and the momentum transferred into the dagger, pushing it deeper inside. Another wave of healing washed over him. Deeper and deeper, the cut went, and soon enough, he could feel the warm flow of blood mixing into the ruthless digestive juice, easing the ever-present pain and encouraging him. After an eternity of inching the tip to widen the gash, he thought he had made the cut big enough to travel through. Grabbing a loose chunk of tissue, he pulled himself up with a death grip, and crawled his way out into the guts of the leviathan. *** After nearly an hour of digging through trash like a maniac, Janhalar still hadn¡¯t come to terms with it. He had been so close, standing at what felt like the finish line to a long, grueling journey, only to suddenly find himself lost deep in the woods. What the hell happened? What the hell could have happened? Anything short of reality itself stepping out of its way to bully him wasn¡¯t rational enough to explain away this ungodly level of misfortune. Then he felt it. The connection between his ring and Bloodshed, which had been entirely dead a mere moment ago, sprang to life again. But something was wrong; it was different. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me¡­ it became a spirit!?¡± If that was the case, there was only one explanation for what had happened, and as soon as he made the conclusion, the ring flared up again. In his mind¡¯s eye, he saw a path. It was a crimson road, a way forward, wading through a metaphorically knee-high river of blood. Without hesitation, he ran down it. A mile or so away, it took him underground. Digging through trash with fervor unlike anything he¡¯d displayed in his life, he reached a buried old carriage and saw it. There was a passage that delved into a perhaps B-grade desert realm. And the path in his mind¡¯s eye was already leading to another passage, all the way on the other side. *** All sense of time vanished as Freddy desperately clung to the last string of hope he had. Again and again, he cut through flesh, unsure of where he even was anymore. The insanely high body temperature of the thrashing leviathan was cooking him alive, and the lack of oxygen made him feel like he was constantly on the brink of suffocation. But thanks to the miraculous work of supreme healing supplied by his talent, he was still alive. Swinging the already bent and dulled dagger like an animal swung its claws¡ªall instincts heightened to their maximum¡ªhe was but a beast trying to survive. Although at first he thought that was his imagination, by then he was confident his body was shrinking. Such a fervent, intense hunger raged in his gut that he knew his body must have been eating itself alive, be it through the insane calorie consumption or through discarding tissue that had been boiled to well done. Either way, it was a crisis; his swings were already weakening, and the dehydration was getting critical as well. At some point, he started biting away without even realizing it¡ªswallowing mangled flesh and drinking blood like a parasite. It wasn¡¯t tasty, and it was clearly not suitable for human consumption. Every crumb and drop of meat and blood was like swallowing a thunderstorm that threatened to obliterate his body with whatever ether was concentrated within, and it was only through his talent continuously repairing the damage that he could push through it. Every so often, he had to dive into the fleshy confines of the Netherecho to replenish his essence reserves¡ªand every time, he found more and more blood wisps surrounding him. At some point, his weakness started leaving him. Although his body felt like little more than a skeleton with a few strings of flesh attached, unbelievable strength filled it to the point where his bites alone could tear flesh apart like raw dough. The endless suffocation no longer bothered him. Thoughts of escape fizzled out, and he simply indulged in the never-ending stream of life force flowing into his body. Then, it began weakening. And whatever effect the flesh had on his mind was briefly pushed aside as he had a terrifying thought¡ªthe leviathan was dead, and he was still trapped deep within its body. A newfound fervor, now born of panic, flushed him as he clawed forward like a mole burrowing through dirt, desperately seeking the way out. With each swing, the life force grew thinner; soon, he was suffocating again. Gripping torn flesh with the power of a vice grip, he kept pulling himself forward as one downward slash after another forged a path¡ªuntil his blade struck bone and its tip chipped. Shit! he screamed internally, terror filling him. Making his way around the bone, he kept pushing, increasingly uncertain where he was going. But eventually, he broke through and dropped into an open space¡ªa slippery tunnel he immediately started gliding down. Stabbing the dagger into the wall, he took deep breaths, but the air felt thin. There wasn¡¯t much oxygen here, and a powerful smell of fresh meat filled his lungs. Taking effortful breaths, he picked a way to go and clawed his way up. There was a fifty-fifty chance that he was going the right way, and what if he couldn¡¯t push past the maze of teeth? Then, the path before him disappeared again, and he dropped down¡ªright back into the stomach acid. ¡°Fuck!¡± he wheezed and rushed to get up. The darkness was absolute. There was no way to tell where the way back was. He braced himself against the side of the stomach and leaped with Hydraulic Flex anyway, but he slammed into a solid surface, bouncing off it and right back into the stomach acid. The lack of oxygen was well past making him merely dizzy. If it weren¡¯t for his peak-one-star reduced need for oxygen, he would have likely already been dead. The stomach acid was eating his flesh again, but he got up again. And failed to make the jump the second time. And then, the third time. The fourth time, he reached the hole and barely managed to cling to it. With a few desperate pulls, he brought himself back up. There was another crisis to face. As the muscles relaxed, the beast¡¯s throat began closing up. The way back wasn¡¯t a climb through an open tunnel but a crawl through a tightly shut barrier of meat flaps. He thought he would push them apart and make his way through, but it was easier said than done. The mucus was drying, turning into glue that sealed the path shut. But that just happened to be precisely what he needed. It was no longer slippery, and despite yet again facing a lack of air, he at least didn¡¯t need to claw his way up with the dagger. Crawling up, he did his best not to think about how long the neck of the beast was. Instead, he hurried along. At one point, he lost consciousness for a mere moment and decided that he couldn¡¯t afford to stop taking swings at the flesh, even though the healing was already petering out. His exhaustion kept getting worse. The throat kept growing stickier. It wasn¡¯t going to happen. Panicked, he rushed to claw at the throat again, then he pushed his way into the muscle. In death, luckily, the beast¡¯s flesh seemed to have gotten a bit more tender, and he found himself emboldened, swinging the dagger faster and praying he didn¡¯t hit bone again. At one point, cutting became more difficult, and he struggled to make much progress. It was hard to even call his dagger a blade by then, as it had been dulled to the point where nothing but the sheer force of his swings made it usable. Suddenly, he saw a faint ray of light, and water poured into the gap. Widening the opening, he pushed himself out and swam. The entire world spun, and instead of getting brighter, it felt like the surface was growing darker. With each moment, the last bits of his strength thinned, and the wall of absolute exhaustion grew closer. Then something bit him. He screamed in reflex and lost what little air he had in his lungs as he turned around to face his assailant. It was a massive fish with giant, serrated teeth, most of which were embedded deep in his leg, where they, admittedly, had little to bite on other than thin muscle, tough skin, and bone. A flock of these things surrounded him, and he swung the dagger down, empowering his movement with Hydraulic Flex, which worked better underground than Flowing Strike. The dagger stabbed into the head of the beast, and the intense rush marking the critical strike to its brain made the world brighten again. The rest of the flock circled him, eyeing him warily, and he panicked. Why didn¡¯t they come closer? Were they waiting for him to drown? If so, they didn¡¯t have to wait for long! In his desperation, he cut at his own body, hoping that the smell of blood would be enough to bait some of them to come closer. It worked immediately. Three of the flock broke away and rushed him, but instead of salvation, he faced another crisis. Their attacks were merciless, taking sharp, nasty bites at his body. His attacks weren¡¯t fast enough. One of them grabbed his arm, and he caught something in its throat to keep it in place as he stabbed at it. Through sheer chance, his many swings killed another. While he was keeping suffocation at bay for the moment, the loss of blood would finish him off first. Another of these demon spawns rushed at him, and in a reflex reaction, he hugged it. The fish swam away at insane speed, and he barely clung to its slippery skin, staying attached through nothing more than his recent practice of sticking to slippery surfaces. To his immense displeasure, the fish dove down, and if he wasn¡¯t tempered by Abyssal Depths, he was sure that he would have lost consciousness due to the intense pressure. But then it changed course. It started swimming up, yet another move that would have killed him if he were an untempered mortal. He watched with trepidation as the surface rapidly rushed to meet him, and rather than chance the monster turning back down, he let go when he was ten meters from the shore, where he swam up. Inch by inch, the glorious promise of air reached closer, and with a decisive push, his head finally popped above the surface. Taking his first breath in what felt like forever was the best feeling he had ever experienced in his life. Granted, the fish that bit his foot the moment later ruined it, but landing a solid stab on its stupid head and killing it improved it again. Although his focus was on swimming back to shore, he couldn¡¯t help but notice the state of his body¡ªthe surface of his skin was snow-white, all his hair had been melted off, his nails were crimson red; he was so skinny that he more resembled a well-embalmed mummy than a human. In fact, if he didn¡¯t have the aid of his water manipulation, he would have been sinking due to how dense his body was, both because he had no fat tissue to speak of and because of Abyssal Depths. Still, effortfully, he pushed his way to the shore and landed. Pulling himself up on the sand, he felt too tired to even breathe. Just as he was about to succumb to temptation and fall asleep, a man¡¯s voice reached his ears. ¡°How incredible¡­¡± someone mired, and he quickly rushed to get up¡ªand failed. He couldn¡¯t get up to his feet, no matter how hard he tried, and all he could do was raise his head to take a look. Two people stood before him¡ªa short man and a tall woman. The woman stood, carrying a crystal saber which she had casually slung over her shoulder, and the man squatted unarmed, cocking his head at him. No matter who they were, he wasn¡¯t happy to see them, and their strange, eerie, square eyes raised every hair on his body¡ªor they would have if he had any left. ¡°Do you think he will pass the trial?¡± she asked. ¡°We shall see,¡± he answered. ¡°I am curious to witness the means of these dwellers. Let us watch.¡± What the hell are they talking about? he wondered, but then he realized something. Although it was through absurd means, he had technically just slain a creature God knew how far above him¡­ so why hadn¡¯t he felt any ether entering his soul? Then he looked into his ethercosm. ¡°Oh¡­ so that¡¯s where it went,¡± was all he could say when he saw the storm roiling around his star. Wisps of dark, shadowy water coiled around it, orbiting it, but none of them sank in and absorbed. Instead, they began dispersing, seemingly disappearing, until¡ª ¡°Ack!¡± he gasped as he suddenly felt as if something was trying to burrow its way out of his soul, and as he opened his eyes, he realized that that feeling wasn¡¯t far from the truth. What appeared akin to a painting etched into reality, one of a long neck carrying a monstrous head that resembled the leviathan he had just slain, but angrier, more sinister, and malicious, stared down at him with murder in its eyes. ¡°Unacceptable,¡± it growled in a deep, thundering voice dripping in venom. ¡°This¡­ it cannot be forgiven. I will not fall to you, parasite!¡± it bellowed, bending down to bite into his soul like it was trying to take a chunk out of an apple. Pain far transcending the worst he had felt engulfed his entire being, and it was a miracle that the soul attack hadn¡¯t knocked him unconscious. ¡°How unfortunate¡­¡± the man whispered. ¡°What a shame,¡± the woman lamented. ¡°Without a talisman, his soul is too exposed. Should we end his suffering?¡± she asked, then cocked an eyebrow. ¡°What is that?¡± Suddenly, Freddy felt the burden he was suffering reduce significantly. With blood dripping out of its bony hands, a mirage of his long-lost¡ªno, wait, it was Bloodshed! The skeleton remnant¡­ or rather, the skeleton spirit as it now seemed to be, gripped the head of the leviathan and pulled it back, trying to extract the invading construct from his soul. ¡°Master¡­¡± it said, ¡°I am sorry for being late.¡± Tears rushed to his eyes, and he felt overwhelmed by emotion. Not once would he have believed to be capable of feeling such joy at the sight of something so¡­ No, Bloodshed was a precious little munchkin worth every tear he shed, but surrounded by mysterious people and pretty sure they wanted him dead, he didn¡¯t know what to do. From the corner of his eye, he spotted a crimson trail descending from one of the floating island-stones. The red blur dropped unnaturally fast, and as the kicked-up sand cleared, the image of a man peered through. He stood tall in his crimson robes, his red tattoos marking numerous lines over his cheeks, and his white hair draped over his back. An angry, furious expression hung on his face, and he instantly rushed at Freddy and Bloodshed. ¡°This fucker¡ª¡± was all Freddy could manage before, suddenly, a massive explosion of fire engulfed the bloody archhuman, and a saber flew at his face with the speed of a fired arrow. The metallic blade was deflected, and the fire poofed out of existence with a burst of bloody mist. ¡°Who the hell are you!?¡± Janhalar screamed, eyes red and body swirling with a crimson mist. ¡°I knew someone powerful had to be involved! You wretched scum will face the consequences of your sins!¡± ¡°Kaefalge!¡± the woman yelled. ¡°I know! This warrior is strong. Stay close to¡ª¡± he started, but his words were cut off as a sharp projectile of coagulated blood flew past his face. The Kraven patriarch ran at them, keeping one eye on Bloodshed as he rushed to finish the fight as soon as possible. That instant of distraction hadn¡¯t been a good idea. In that brief moment, the short man conjured an intense orange orb, and seconds later, that turned into a massive explosion of bright, hot fire. Freddy was caught in the blast and thrown into the ocean with the leviathan and Bloodshed, who was holding onto it. His skin was severely burned, and the impact had dazed him. Perhaps if he had been awake, he would have had the strength to do something¡­ but there was no more power left in his body. As the ocean¡¯s surface grew more distant, he sank both into the sea and into the depths of unconsciousness. *** Bloodshed could tell that the situation was desperate, but it wouldn¡¯t give up the fight as long as it still stood. ¡°Let go of me, you vile thing!¡± the annoying violator screamed, but Bloodshed gripped it tighter. Pulling itself forward, it used the gap this pest created in Master¡¯s soul to also crawl into it. The beautiful blue star, roiling with the cool, methodical mercilessness of Master, and the scattering of tiny specks surrounding it was a sacred, holy sight¡ª ¡°¡ªand not something to be defiled with such wanton vulgarity!¡± With a primal scream, Bloodshed dug its clawed hands into the neck of the wretched scum impeding on this pristine temple, and the beastly creature bit back, breaking one of the crimson bones in its arm. Although Bloodshed had no intent of surrendering the fight, it could tell that it was vastly outmatched. ¡°Tell me, oh great Master!¡± it begged. ¡°What is it I should do!?¡± It craved the wisdom, the infinite well of knowledge it knew its master possessed. It was then that it saw other vile things invading its master¡¯s soul¡ªbut this was different. They were caged like the animals they were, and rather than wreaking havoc, their power was constantly being sapped¡ªtheir might was thoroughly dominated by the Master¡¯s will. Of course¡­ It was enlightened. That was precisely how such beasts should be handled. With the toothy grin permanently etched into its face growing wider, Bloodshed peered past the surface layer of Master¡¯s soul. As always, the aura of bloodshed was thick¡ªthis time, numerous times more than ever before. It sank a single claw into it, temporarily borrowing from Master and promising it would work hard to repay this debt. *** Freddy was roused awake, but he appeared not in his body but in his projection, surrounded by the flickering of distant stars. Am I dead? he asked, but he soon recognized it to be the inner sanctum of his ethercosm¡ªthe inside of his soul. Why was he here? It was then that he saw the thundering storm of blood wisps roiling in a giant vortex. What the¡ª Deep within, the wisps crystallized, transforming into an uneven, messy cage. Mind flooded with questions, he floated forward, desperately trying to discover what the hell was happening. As the storm cleared, he saw something that blew him away. This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it Bloodshed stood¡ªnearly torn to pieces¡ªas it placed the final rune on an oddly shaped red cage. The crimson script forming the uneven barrier suddenly pulsed, taking on a deep blue light instead. Within it, the floating head of the leviathan was trapped entirely, completely unable to break past the barrier. Its roaring quieted, and it gradually went catatonic like the other ether constructs trapped in his soul. ¡°Blood¡­ shed¡­¡± he called, feeling a lump welling in his projection¡¯s throat. ¡°What are you doing?¡± he asked. ¡°I¡­ I am¡­ I am fixing you¡­ Master,¡± it said weakly as one of its bones unraveled into wisps of blood. ¡°I can no longer sustain myself¡­ but it is all right. I have done all I could¡­ I have fulfilled my purpose.¡± ¡°N¡­ No,¡± he denied it. This couldn¡¯t be happening. Thoughts of power were pushed aside as he cried genuine tears of sadness. For all the people he had met¡­ for all the wretched, unworthy scum he had come across, it was this goofy, bloody skeleton that had loved him the most. A small laugh escaped him as he thought of it. How absurd. He wanted to deny it, wanted to pin its behavior on nothing but a quirk of its nature, but he knew that wasn¡¯t the case. Not entirely. Bloodshed was unique. It had a true soul. In a sense, it was a person. It wasn¡¯t just a mindless construct of ether. And its life, which he had so liberally abused, was at that moment being forfeited to save his own. There was no goddamn way he would let that happen. ¡°Bloodshed!¡± he called out in a commanding tone. It perked up weakly. ¡°What is it, Master?¡± it asked, ready to heed his words even in its final moments. ¡°Hang on just a bit¡­¡± he said, voice shivering. ¡°I am going to save you,¡± he promised with a smile. With all the effort he could muster, he forced himself to shake awake. There was practically no strength left in his body. With its density, he had sunken to the bottom, and he could already see faint shadows of predators swimming through the darkness around him. With all the will he could muster, he tried to move his arm. But it felt like there was no point. Every cell in his body screamed for substance, and he had nothing to give it. So, instead of moving his body, he focused on Hydraulic Flex. His drained body was forced to move through the essence, pushing it into action, and his hand moved to pluck a piece of algae. With that, the darkness around him grew slightly brighter. So he pulled more. And more. The world around him brightened with each piece he plucked, and drowning was pushed back by another moment. The assault of the carnivorous fish was so sudden and his body so numb that it took him a few seconds to register that something was trying to chew his arm off again. With more power than he expected to be able to extract, Hydraulic Flex gripped the bony protrusion that he presumed to be the tongue and pulled. It squirmed and fought him, but his will prevailed as the creature spat out blood and stopped moving. He plucked one of the creature¡¯s sharp teeth and continued flowing. Anything he came across, be it fish or algae, was torn apart as he went on a rampage. Every shred of focus he could muster went into controlling water to propel him further. His mangled body was slowly pieced back together. With each drop of blood he shed, more fish appeared; this time, he welcomed their rush, brawling with them. He bit right back and used the power of Hydraulic Flex to split their jaws apart, barely keeping himself from drowning. His talent was doing far less than he wanted it to, and wounds kept accumulating, but thankfully, the creatures¡¯ teeth could only do so much to his bony, rigid body. He momentarily peered back into his soul. ¡°Bloodshed!¡± he demanded. ¡°Lend me your help!¡± He had no idea what he wanted it to do, but it nodded anyway. With a moment of concentration, he began meditating. The thoughts of serene water and calm lakes were wholly pushed aside as he imagined rivers of blood instead. Instantly, an intense backlash struck his soul. Indeed, he didn¡¯t have a blood affinity. There was no way he could attract wisps of blood. But Bloodshed sensed what he was trying to do, and with a faint light in its eyes, it floated over to his star. Standing next to the roiling mass of ether, it dipped a claw inside. Freddy felt as if the core of his being was being pierced, but the smallest of hints of red appeared. Then he returned to meditating. He nearly gasped in shock once he did. The water around him was thick with numerous wisps of blood, and, ignoring the fish ravaging his body, he focused on absorbing them. Eventually, he had to fight back, if anything, just to undo the damage the lack of oxygen was doing; then, he quickly glanced at his soul¡ªand froze once he did. There, orbiting his star, was another uneven cage. Bloodshed was inside it, whole but unresponsive. ¡°Bloodshed!¡± he screamed. ¡°Bloodshed, no!¡± he cried as he grasped the oddly shaped cage of runes. ¡°This wasn¡¯t what I wanted¡­¡± ¡°This was the best way to keep myself alive,¡± it responded. ¡°Oh.¡± He stepped back. ¡°You¡¯re alive!¡± he suddenly realized. ¡°Master, I need your consent.¡± Before he could ask for what, he felt it. The cage before him tightened, trying to crystallize, but it couldn¡¯t. With a nod, he forged the ability. A raging red light ignited in Bloodshed¡¯s eyes, and the cage solidified in its odd shape with a giant splash of blood that traveled over to his star. A massive surge of power entered him as he felt the blue mass of light slowly split into one half blue, and the other half red. But before he could ponder his new affinity, he rushed back outside. There, he was still in a fight with several fish. He swung over and over, healing himself, but¡­ he had accumulated too many wounds. His talent was being split between one too many crises to keep up with the drowning. Despair at failure overwhelmed him, but as it did, the faint voice of Bloodshed echoed from his soul, ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Master¡­¡± it comforted him. ¡°I will take over from here.¡± *** Janhalar ducked beneath a lance of flame and kicked away the woman¡¯s wrist as he deflected her saber. Who were these people? Only at the peak of two stars, they had such skill and power that they could nearly stand up to him in a fight. Nearly. The woman was severely injured, with his recent kick wounding her right wrist and several previous strikes bruising her stomach. One of the man¡¯s eyes was closed shut, and his gait was uncertain. These fools wouldn¡¯t last much longer, but they weren¡¯t his primary concern anyway. ¡°Why do you stand in my way!?¡± he asked. In response, the man grinned. ¡°Relinquish that spirit, and we will be out of your way.¡± Janhalar scowled at that. ¡°You miserable¡ª¡± Suddenly, the nature of his ring¡¯s bond with the spirit had changed again. He could still feel where it was, but there was something concerning about that connection. He had to quickly¡ª In his moment of distraction, the woman suddenly summoned a phantasmal blade mirroring the shape of the other she still held in her hand and threw it at him. The sudden appearance of the weapon was unexpected, and as he hadn¡¯t been prepared for it, it lightly grazed his cheek, causing a few drops of his blood to fly off and drop into the ocean. Perhaps he should hurry and use Patriarch¡¯s Domai¡ª Suddenly, something felt deeply wrong. His senses flared up, and he could feel something extremely concerning. Those drops of blood he had just lost¡ªthey were moving, joining a tremendous volume of blood that was gathering at the bottom of the ocean. The man prepared to launch another lance of fire, but before he could, Janahar screamed and rushed into the water. There, he saw the massive carcass of an oceanic monstrosity¡­ and all of its blood flowing through a wound on its neck, gathering around where he felt the spirit was located. A deep, profound sense of panic enveloped him. He felt exactly where the few drops of his blood were. With all his power, he kept trying to retrieve them, but it was to no avail. It was too dilute, too scattered. No! he screamed internally. No, no, no! If even a single drop reaches that mass of blood¡­! *** The suffocation had nearly overcome Freddy. His thoughts felt floaty, and he wasn¡¯t all there. His mind was primarily asleep, tired, waning as his brain cells perished, screaming for oxygen. ¡°I have gathered all the blood I could,¡± Bloodshed declared. ¡°For what?¡± he asked numbly. Its cage flickered for a moment, and its eyes glowed a deep, crimson red. A strange set of two words flowed into his mind. Without hesitation, he mouthed them. ¡°Blood Sacrifice.¡± *** Firrita and Kaefalge remained on the surface, cradling their wounds. The woman breathed heavily. ¡°That man¡­ his skills are primitive, but he still holds the power of four stars. Should we retreat?¡± Kaefalge frowned. ¡°That might be the best choice,¡± he said, ¡°but that skeleton is a great opportunity. We are in an unknown part of the Great Labyrinthe. Every advantage we can find will serve us well.¡± She scoffed. ¡°You say ¡®we.¡¯¡± she noted, a slight edge to her voice. ¡°Both of us are risking our lives, but only one gets the spirit.¡± He smiled. ¡°You are right to be skeptical, woman, so I will tell you openly; I want that thing for myself,¡± he admitted. She shook her head. ¡°If we could have it, I would gladly hand it to you, but I don¡¯t think¡ª¡± Suddenly, they both froze. Their instincts flared up, and they glanced around. They whirred, trying to locate the source. An all-encompassing thirst for blood surrounded them, conjuring images of death and destruction. ¡°What in the gods¡¯ name is that!?¡± Firrita called, sweat trickling down her body. It felt as if reality itself was bleeding. Then, with a burst of otherworldly, immense pressure, the ocean rose in a titanic wave as a massive, bloody spinal column shot up to the sky, followed by another, and then another. Three enormous skulls dripping in blood were carried on the bony, serpentine columns, and thinner, spiny appendages appeared, rising like tentacles out of the water and whipping the island with immense, earth-shattering force as the entire sea adopted the color of blood. ¡°On second thought,¡± Kaefalge surrendered, ¡°you are correct. We must leave. Immediately.¡± *** Janhalar flew out of the water, pushed back by an intense wave as he was washed ashore. ¡°What in the name of the¡­!?¡± he shouted, staring in terror at the being radiating immense blood aura. This couldn¡¯t be. This was impossible. He still sensed the spirit and where it was, so what on earth was this thing? It couldn¡¯t have possibly evolved into an eidolon, and even if it had, this was far bigger than any eidolon he had ever heard of. However, the thoughts of turning around and escaping were not on his mind. Instead, a pure, primal rage boiled as he roared at the sky. After spilling his fury, he took a deep breath and calmed down. His eyes sharpened, and his determination forged itself into a blade. On his name as Janhalar, the patriarch of what would one day become the supreme clan of blood, he swore on his life that he wouldn¡¯t walk out of that realm without that spirit in his possession. *** Freddy was stirred out of his stupor as a river of life force flowed directly into his body, rapidly pushing the suffocation away. The water around him was tinged red. As he floated back up to the surface, he froze, his mind uncomprehending as he stared at the titanic creature of blood and bone. ¡°B-B-B-¡± he spluttered. ¡°Bloodshed?¡± he asked, fearing the answer. One of the titanic heads turned to him, causing every muscle in his body to tighten, and he heard the voice in his head. ¡°Yes, Master,¡± it answered. He grinned. A crazed, disbelieving grin spread from one ear to another as he started cackling. Then he heard the roar coming from the beach. Any questions he might have had were interrupted by the massive spear of hardened blood that pierced right through his back, crushing his heart instantly. He gasped, turning around to face the culprit, who stared at him with a manic look in his eye. Before death could come, however, he felt the spear being pushed out of his body. And as soon as it was out, the damage it had left was gone as if it hadn¡¯t even been there. ¡°Holy shit,¡± he said. ¡°That¡¯s a lot of lifesteal¡­¡± But how? ¡°Don¡¯t tell me¡­¡± he wondered as he turned around, gazing at the endless ocean of crimson red. Was he killing everything this water touched? Every few moments, a small rush of wisps coursed into his soul. Every creature he killed supplied him with ether, and as with any wisp one collected, a small part of that directly worked to replenish his essence. At that moment¡­ for as long as whatever Bloodshed had done lasted¡­ he had practically unlimited essence and life force. Feeling drunk on the flood of power, he turned to face the Kraven patriarch. ¡°Bloodshed!¡± he screamed. ¡°Attack!¡± he commanded, unsure of what to expect. One of the three massive heads dove down, rushing toward Janhalar, who was already running to get out of its way. Numerous tentacles impeded his progress, while a second skull bit into a floating island that it threw at the patriarch. Whatever he had expected, it definitely hadn¡¯t been that. The first skull slammed into the landmass, kicking up a giant cloud of dust and sending a shockwave, while the landing meteorite had an even more significant impact. Despite all this, the image of the Kraven bastard appeared, his feet gliding over the tsunami those two attacks had created, rushing straight at him. Right. An ocean of blood was probably good for him too, it seemed. He quickly dove underwater, aiming to hide from the crazed clan leader, but it was useless. The white-haired man was after him instantly, traveling with the speed of a torpedo. A large spike of blood appeared in the man¡¯s hand, and he swung, cutting his body apart with nearly no resistance¡ªand with even fewer consequences. No matter what Janhalar did, his near-immortality seemed enough to keep him alive. As he reached for the head, however, the near-immortal wasn¡¯t keen on questioning the limits of his current state, and luckily, neither was Bloodshed, who swung its third head at the two of them, kicking up another bloody tsunami and separating them as a spine pushed him up above the surface of the ocean. The spinal columns created a large bridge in the sky that he could travel over, and without hesitation, he used Hydraulic Flex to run forward. Or, well, he tried to. His body felt pathetically weak, even with all the healing. Not to mention that the unstable, shaking spinal column wasn¡¯t the easiest to run across. Opting to avoid falling off instead, he hugged the bridge of bone, but that wouldn¡¯t be enough. Rising out of the ocean like a bloody dragon, Janhalar jumped on the spine right ahead of him, and in a flash, he appeared beside him. Just as the lunatic was about to turn his brain into mush with a bloody spear, another spine smashed into the man¡¯s side with a flick and threw him into the water again. The massive heads tried their best, but the patriarch was a tiny, fast target. While he had been somewhat confident moments ago, he suddenly realized that he was, indeed, fighting a four-star Lord. And it wasn¡¯t like running away was possible. The Kraven patriarch jumped again, bouncing off three consecutive columns as he flew at Freddy, and this time, the swing reached, cutting right through his target¡¯s neck. Fleshy tendrils grew out to try and reconnect Freddy¡¯s head to the rest of his body, but the patriarch kicked his head away before that could happen. Dropping into the ocean, he was still alive, although he was quite literally just a head bobbing in the raging tides. His healing worked overtime to reconstruct his cells. Bit by bit, forming out of nothing but the never-ending stream of lifeforce he was receiving, he felt the rest of his body growing back out, but the patriarch was already on his way to finish him off. Shit, shit, shit, shit! The situation was desperate. The world around him slowed to a crawl at the unstoppable approach of certain death. He instantly grew hyper-aware of everything around him¡­ including a particular, yet-to-be-crystallized shell floating aimlessly through his ethercosm. With a burst of will, he crystallized the shell holding the leviathan. A splash of dark, ghastly water with shapes shifting inside it entered his star, splitting it three ways as it added a third component. With no time to ponder his new affinity, he refocused, which was easier said than done, given that he was a loose head sloshing in a roiling ocean. He didn¡¯t know why, but Blood Sacrifice, the ability he used to summon Bloodshed, needed to be named to be used. Spotting a brief flash of an angry patriarch making his way through the water, his lips mouthed, ¡°Leviathan¡¯s Fury!¡± Suddenly, bone-like protrusions grew out of his head, cracking his skull and shredding his flesh as they formed a large head of bone just like that of the leviathan that bit down on the patriarch. Janhalar was caught off-guard, likely as being attacked so viciously by a floating head wasn¡¯t something one usually expected to face, and the attack bit down on his arm, halting his charge, but did no damage whatsoever. A moment later, Leviathan¡¯s Fury vanished as if it hadn¡¯t even been there, leaving a void of water that imploded with a loud thud. There was a somewhat awkward moment as Janhalar glared at the disembodied floating head, staring in disbelief. Panicked, he uttered ¡°Leviathan¡¯s Fury!¡± again. Once more, the same thing happened, but the patriarch defended himself this time. His new ability seemed to cost absolutely nothing in essence, but it dealt tremendous damage to his body in return. As he missed again, he realized the true weight of using Leviathan¡¯s Fury like that. The damage it had done to his head was recovering incredibly slowly, and he couldn¡¯t even see anything as his eyes had been destroyed. In the next moment, a massive skull crashed down on them again, and he was once more pushed away. A second head grabbed him in its teeth and, with an enormous downpour of bloody ocean water, raised him onto one of the floating rocks. From there, all he could see was the shifting red ceiling, and all he could hear was the intense showdown happening below as Bloodshed continued the fight. The damage recovered at a snail¡¯s pace, and as his arms gradually grew back out, he crawled over to get a better look. It wasn¡¯t looking good. Despite these miraculous circumstances, bridging the gap against an elite four-star Lord was no joke. The man was gradually destroying Bloodshed. He had manifested a giant spear, the swings of which sounded like cracks of lightning. Suddenly, the man¡¯s entire body emitted a horrifying aura as the image of four stars appeared, burning deep within the man¡¯s body. He raised his hand, and with a crimson light, a massive spear of blood shot out, turning into a red blur as it slammed into one of the spines, felling one of the three giant skulls as the spine shattered at its base. ¡°Fuck!¡± he screamed. With one head down for the count, it wouldn¡¯t be long until the man finished the fight. Without thinking, Freddy pushed himself into freefall and flew toward the fight. ¡°Bloodshed!¡± he commanded, and one of the giant skulls moved down to redirect his fall. ¡°Throw me at that piece of shit!¡± Obediently, Bloodshed did, and he, who hadn¡¯t even grown his legs back yet, came crashing down with the force of a shooting star. Flowing Strike coursed through his body, and he readied himself to land a massive punch. He was on a trajectory to completely miss. Thus, he ignored the backlash of the failed Flowing Strike and screamed, ¡°Leviathan¡¯s Fury!¡± The head rushed toward the patriarch again, biting down on the man¡¯s arm again and yanking him off the column he was standing on. ¡°You bastard!¡± Janhalar yelled. ¡°What have you done!?¡± The head of the leviathan vanished again, and just as it did, Bloodshed swung a spine at the patriarch. The man deftly dodged the attack by ejecting a high-pressure burst of blood from his hand as both men crashed into the ocean, the blood arch rushing at him, thrusting a bloody spike that came within inches of piercing his brain, but¡ª ¡°Leviathan¡¯s Fury!¡± he mouthed as fast as he could, using the spurs of bone as a makeshift shield that took the brunt of the attack, getting crushed under the force of the patriarch¡¯s impact and sending Freddy flying back, nearly unconscious but still alive. A moment later, one of the giant skulls grabbed Freddy out of the water with its teeth, and the other launched a huge sky rock at Janhalar. The young man was dragged back to the island¡¯s shores, where he felt his legs finally grow back. His body was horribly thin, barely more than skin and bone. He braced himself as the most recent of the tsunamis was about to wash over him, but a helpful spine tentacle lifted him above it. Good Bloodshed. That crazy bastard was nowhere to be found, but he knew better than to believe that had finished him off. Indeed, the next moment, he spotted a red flash jumping out on the beach and rushing at him at an impossible speed. Janhalar slashed at Freddy¡¯s head, and a spine tentacle moved to block his attack again, but the man used incredible brute force to kick it out of the way with a thundering smash of cracking bone as he continued his attack, now nothing standing between him and his target. ¡°Leviathan¡¯s Fury!¡± shouted Freddy again, but the man roared as he swung his spear and crushed the head of bone into splinters and threw the spear at his target, which flew right at Freddy¡¯s mouth, crushing his teeth as it pierced through the back of his neck and flew all the way through, severing his spine, instantly robbing him of the ability to move and pushing him to the brink of death. The man raised his arm again, and the terrifying glow of four stars igniting flashed into view once more, signaling an attack that would be impossible to survive. But¡ª Despite his nerves being cut off, nothing stopped Freddy from moving his body with Hydraulic Flex. Just as the patriarch fired the spear of blood again, half of Freddy¡¯s core muscles tightened with all they had. He swung his head far enough that the attack only carved through the side of his head instead of blowing his brain apart¡ªan attack that would knock anyone else unconscious, but to him, who had endured never-ending torment and tempered his body with Hundred Wet Hells, it was just tolerable enough. His jaw hung slack, broken and disabled, preventing him from using Leviathan¡¯s Fury. The patriarch stared at him wide-eyed as he gritted his teeth and prepared another attack. It was the same face the man used to make whenever his torture methods failed. The same ugly expression Freddy had gotten all too used to seeing. With every cell and shred of his being, he forced the water in his mouth and jaw muscles to move. Leviathan¡¯s Fury. The patriarch didn¡¯t have the time to dodge and he had no weapon to defend himself with. Instead, his skin turned a deep shade of crimson as he used an ability to form a thin layer of protective blood all across his form just as his entire body was grasped in the maw of the leviathan. ¡°Re¡­ Release me!¡± His ability successfully prevented any of the teeth from sinking in and doing proper damage. ¡°Release me!¡± But he was trapped, entombed in a shell of metallic blood and kept in place by an ivory jaw. The bloody armor flowed back into his body as Janhalar, with a sudden burst of power, flexed his muscles and started tearing the head apart. It was as if levers were attached to Freddy¡¯s bones, and with every push, more cracks resounded through his mangled form. But he couldn¡¯t feel any of it. Blood¡­ shed, he called in his mind. The skeleton gazed down at him. It wasn¡¯t attacking. The two men were too close to one another, and any attack powerful enough to hurt the patriarch would probably kill him, too. With another push, the bloody archhuman came another step closer to setting himself free. The inpour of lifesteal was weakening, and the cost of maintaining Leviathan¡¯s Fury outweighed the recovery. Bloodshed¡¯s empty eye sockets gazed down at them. Then, its jaw started crackling, its massive eyes shining like two crimson stars as the entire realm grew a shade redder. Janhalar¡¯s struggle stopped as the man froze at the sudden presence. Bloodshed screamed, the entire realm shaking with its booming voice. Its two remaining heads flew down toward them, casting their forms in shadow. ¡°No!¡± the patriarch screamed, tripling his efforts as one head approached to bite down on him. ¡°Noooo!¡± The other head bit down on Freddy. Then, with massive force and the visceral sound of tearing flesh and snapping bones, the skeleton forced their bodies apart, breaking the deadlock. Freddy¡¯s mind turned blank, and he started fading. The last thing he heard was Bloodshed¡¯s voice, saying, ¡°I believe in you, Master,¡± as the head holding the patriarch rose high into the air and crashed into the beach with tremendous force. The last thing he felt was the immense flood of lifesteal as his mind wavered and he lost consciousness. *** It took an unknown amount of time for Freddy to wake up. But as he did, and as he forced himself up, he quickly realized that he was in far better shape than the mangled patriarch, whose entire left arm was bent behind his back. But the man was already on his feet and shambling forward. His eyes widened. Bloodshed was gone, and it seemed his ability had run out of whatever fuel had kept it active. He didn¡¯t know what to do. Janhalar stared at him with bloodshot eyes. ¡°You¡­¡± he accused. ¡°What¡­ did¡­ you do?¡± he cried. ¡°What did you do with the spirit!?¡± he demanded an answer. Feeling a sudden outburst of emotion welling up, he answered, ¡°I¡­ I didn¡¯t do anything. I didn¡¯t do anything, you piece of fucking shit!¡± he screamed, feeling tears running down his face. ¡°From the very goddamn beginning, I haven¡¯t done a single thing that deserves your judgment! And you have taken all the liberty you could, every step of the way to¡ª¡± ¡°Shut up!¡± ¡°You have been¡ª¡± ¡°I said shu¡ª¡± ¡°No, you¡ª¡± ¡°Shut up, vermin!¡± Janhalar screamed. ¡°I won¡¯t shut up!¡± he refused. ¡°Let me speak!¡± ¡°Well I won¡¯t let you speak!¡± the man insisted. ¡°You have no right to speak in front of meeee!¡± the man yelled, stomping a foot as he threw a tantrum, madness in his eyes. ¡°Kneel and apologize!¡± ¡°Leviathan¡¯s Fury!¡± said Freddy instead, sending a sudden attack that the patriarch was helpless to defend against as his body was bitten down on and mangled further. Janhalar struggled to breathe as blood flowed down his body as if he had a whole lake of it. The crimson liquid carved a small stream into the sand as it made its way to the surface of the sea. The damage Freddy did offset some of the damage he took, but not a lot. As the Leviathan¡¯s head retracted, his entire body was left full of holes, and several of his bones were broken. Without the endless influx of healing, the true nature of the cost of this ability finally revealed itself. It was thoroughly crippling. No, it was more than that. Using it¡­ It was suicide. But it had done its job. Janhalar couldn¡¯t get up anymore, even though he desperately tried. ¡°Have you been like this your whole life¡­ you miserable twat?¡± Freddy muttered, barely mustering the strength to speak. ¡°Sub¡­ human¡­ waste¡­¡± the patriarch returned as he started getting back up again. ¡°You¡­¡± he tried to say, barely standing on his feet. There was nothing else he could do. He couldn¡¯t even move a single muscle. Even in his absolutely decrepit state, the man was still far too much for him to handle. ¡°I see¡­¡± he said, resigning himself to whatever was about to happen. If he would die anyway, he would take the man down with him. ¡°Leviathan¡¯s Fury.¡± The ability flew out again; this time, the Kraven patriarch was skewered without even the barest of defenses to stop the attack. ¡°You¡­¡± the man eked out, the hatred, fury, and pride in his eyes extinguishing. ¡°You¡­¡± He breathed out¡­ as the final remnants of his willpower flickered like a candle before a gust of wind. Leviathan¡¯s bony head retracted again, and Janhalar, the patriarch of the Kraven Clan, dropped to the ground. Dead. Freddy soon followed him. A sense of catharsis filled his body as he realized he would join the man soon. This was it. I am gonna have to face another ¡°trial¡± or whatever? he pondered with a hint of humor, thinking back to the words of those strange individuals. Hesitantly, he took a look at his own soul again. But there was no storm surrounding his star this time, and there was no trial. A massive influx of wisps flowed like a river of blood right into his star, which bulged. In moments, it reached 90% completion, then 95%, 99%, and then, it overflowed. The surface of his star roiled stormily, ready to explode at any moment. His eyes widened ever so slightly. Without hesitation, he discarded all the trash abilities he had no use for and sparked the nova of ascension. Moments later, the large mass of ether exploded violently, lighting up his entire ethercosm and reforging it with ethereal flames. Once the mist settled and the excess power receded, he observed the sight of two stars. One full and almost solid-looking, and the other around a tenth of its size, both roiling with the lighter blue of water, dark red of blood, and the deep blue of a mysterious third affinity. A flood of natural-quality healing poured into his body, doing no more than speeding up its natural recovery. But it was enough to haul him back from the brink of death and give him a chance. A voice rang through his soul¡ªthe sweet call of a long-forgotten prime¡ªas the violent, yellow eyes opened once more. Unshackled to bear the weight it demands, unlimited, unscarred of fate¡¯s filthy hands. *** Benjamin shook profusely as he walked through the caves near Camp Violet. He was still new to the job, so being sent out into the wilderness, where something had burned hundreds of people to death, put him just a bit out of his element, to say the least. He stood beside his two colleagues, the beautiful Elena and the tight-arsed Henry. The danger had been well-scouted, he knew; they were relatively safe, he worked to convince himself, but with each step they took further into these haunted caves, he felt his knees grow weaker. The sudden ringing of Henry¡¯s phone caused him to yelp, and he turned around, blushing as Elena eyed him weirdly. Oh, crap. He regretted it. I just had to go and¡ª He froze. His stomach dropped as he spotted something approaching them from the shadows. A ghoul of some sort shambled toward them, and before he could even scream, he launched a Stone Bullet at it. The man-shaped monster buckled over, and he prepared to attack again, making sure Elena saw how cool he was while¡ª Suddenly, Henry rushed at him and grabbed him by the arm, yelling, ¡°Idiot! That¡¯s a person!¡± ¡°Wh¡­ What?¡± he asked dumbly. Henry pushed him roughly as he walked forward. ¡°Oh¡­ fuck,¡± he cursed as he realized that, indeed, the thing he just shot at was¡­ a survivor. A man with severe burns all over the upper part of his body. He had just attacked a heavily injured survivor. Oh, man. Henry carefully pushed the man over into a more comfortable position and examined him. Then, he spoke into the phone, which was still on line with the sergeant. ¡°Sergeant Jefferson, I have found another survivor. Appears to be male, severely injured, with heavy burn scars all over the upper side of his body. He was prematurely identified as a threat, and he had suffered an attack by Stone Bullet, stage one. I¡¯m requesting backup on my location. Send medical support.¡± Then, Henry saw a strange object that the burned man clutched tightly in his hands. After extracting it carefully, he added, ¡°I would like to request higher priority. The man has been identified as a staff member, an official employee of Camp Violet¡­ ¡°His name is Peter Vane.¡± [BOOK TWO START] Chapter 42 - This Man is Not My Son Kraven Industries Faralethal Mercantile and Information Agency Excavation, Foraging, and Spelunking Department Faralethal Activity Excavation Site: Camp Violet: Destruction Investigation Report REPORT: CVDCSR-00056 *This is a transcribed comprehensive summary of all reports and report sections in reference to Subject and their involvement with the Camp Violet Destruction Incident. The reports referenced in this summary are: CVDR-00003-07, CVDR-00367, CVDR-01154, CVDR-01794, CVDR-01832, CVDR-01837. Report topic: Rescue and Recovery of Subject: Peter Vane. *** Section from CVDR-00003-07: Subject was discovered in ¡®red zone¡¯ R-CV214 by a three-man mercenary team on the third day of the rescue mission, fourteen days after Camp Violet Destruction Incident. Due to severe upper-body disfigurement, Subject was misidentified as a threat by one of the squad members, who prematurely used an ability¡ªStage One: Stone Bullet¡ªand severely injured Subject, causing muscle contusions, internal bleeding, and rib bone fragmentation. First aid efforts stabilized Subject¡¯s condition, after which he was returned to Starhold for further treatment. *** Section from CVDR-00367: After extensive medical examination, Subject was deemed not to be in a life-threatening situation. Subject was left with debilitating sequela from damage suffered during Camp Violet Destruction Incident. The sequela included, but wasn¡¯t limited to: severe third-degree and second-degree burn scarring on the upper torso, arms, neck, and general head area; severe sensorimotor function impairment, including sight impairment, hearing impairment, total loss of olfactory function, and extensive nerve damage along area affected by burns; lung damage, severe loss of lung capacity; total vocal cord destruction. The final recovery prognosis was ¡®partial, with low chances of regaining independent function.¡¯ The treatment required was judged to be ¡®extensive and prolonged.¡¯ *** Section from CVDR-01154: After three weeks of treatment efforts, clinic personnel speculated that Subject might be suffering from extensive brain damage. Repeated failures to communicate with Subject have shown him to be highly unresponsive, and, during exceptions, he failed to convey coherent information, regardless of the medium employed. The treatment effort was progressing slowly; much of the damage was untreatable through any means other than supreme-quality healing or ether medicine with equivalent effect. Due to Subject¡¯s inability to consent to costly treatment, the department filed an official request to proceed without consent, arguing necessity due to the severity of Subject¡¯s condition. *** Section from CVDR-01794: The approval to proceed with treatment was granted. Subject¡¯s condition started to improve. The burn damage was mitigated, much of the damaged nerve tissue was restored, and some degree of sensorimotor function was regained. Subject¡¯s recovery prognosis was updated to ¡®partial recovery likely¡¯. Subject¡¯s recovery prognosis in regards to mental function was updated to ¡®uncertain¡¯. *** Section from CVDR-01832: Subject started exhibiting signs of PTSD on the twenty-eight day of treatment. Subject committed acts of extreme self-harm, showing likely suicidal intent. Through the use of sharp objects, Subject inflicted upon himself: total eye destruction and severe lacerations along face, arms, and torso; through the use of cleaning chemicals, Subject inflicted upon himself poisoning and acid burns along lacerated skin and muscle tissue. Subject¡¯s life was preserved through timely intervention. *** Section from CVDR-01837: Subject¡¯s eyes were reconstructed, and his vision was partially recovered. A portion of the self-inflicted damage was treated; scarring and loss of function remained. Subject was physically in a stable condition. On the thirty-third day of treatment, the court-approved audit of Subject''s assets revealed that the cost of treatment exceeded Subject¡¯s net worth. Psychiatric evaluation deemed Subject unstable and unable to return to a workplace environment. The insurance firm refused to cover the treatment cost, arguing that the self-inflicted nature of Subject¡¯s injuries preceded the psychiatric evaluation of mental instability. Family members and acquaintances refused to cover further treatment costs. Kraven Clan and Kraven Industries refused to cover further treatment costs, citing all signed documents between Kraven Industries and Subject. All applicable governmental bodies refused to subsidize further treatment costs. At stable but severely physically and mentally debilitated, Subject was discharged from the clinic. The courts judged there was no less restrictive alternative and appointed Subject¡¯s closest living relative, his biological father Matthew Vane, a full-rights guardianship over Subject. Subject was discharged from Kraven Industries. Matthew Vane received full compensation. End of report summary. *** On a clear, sunny spring day in the countryside near Pittersville, next to a small town by the name of Imperta, a black vehicle traversed the old, decaying roads, driving past a lightly forested area and large swathes of verdant, golden, and muddy farmland. Inside the vehicle, which more and more resembled what had once been called a ¡®car¡¯ on Old Earth but with more than five times as large wheels, a man wearing sunglasses sat in the driver¡¯s seat, with a heavily restrained person sitting in the back. The driver kept eyeing the mirror; the creepy bastard he was driving had a scarred and disfigured face, with mangled tissue instead of hair on his head. Apparently, he did that to himself. Shaking his head, the driver turned his eyes back on the road. Luckily, he had refused to work anywhere in Faralethal. The pay simply wasn¡¯t worth the risk. After around twenty more minutes of driving, they reached what seemed to be their destination¡ªan old, dingy house in the countryside. An obese, messy, balding man sat on the wooden porch, wearing a dirty wife-beater and cargo shorts¡ªperfectly fitting the description of Matthew Vane. After parking the carriage, getting out, and walking over to greet the man, the driver took off his sunglasses and shook the man¡¯s hand. ¡°You must be Mr. Vane, am I correct?¡± The man nodded in response, not taking his eyes off the car. ¡°Did you bring him?¡± he said in a deep, nasal voice. ¡°Yes.¡± Then, the driver hesitated. ¡°I will warn you, though; you should prepare for the worst.¡± Matthew nodded. They reached the doors, and the driver gently opened them. Sitting on the backseat, partially shrouded by the darkness of the vehicle, was Peter Vane, lightly turning his mangled face in their direction. Matthew remained surprisingly calm as he dragged the tied Peter out by his arm. He turned to face the driver and nodded. ¡°Thanks,¡± he thanked curtly while dragging his son away. ¡°Well¡­" the driver mused, feeling a great sense of relief wash over him as he finally offloaded his baggage. "I guess there¡¯s no good way to react to something like that.¡± *** Matthew walked into his house, dragging his¡ªno, this fucking cripple by his arm. The hallway was tight, with a shitty old brown carpet he hadn¡¯t washed in twenty years and dirty-white walls he hadn¡¯t painted in even longer. Past the pile of well-worn, unused shoes and the broken door leading to the toilet, he dragged the tied creature along to what used to be his room but now acted as a storage for all sorts of crap. But between the piles of empty boxes and bottles was still a bed. The only reason why was because he had been too lazy to throw it out. He aggressively threw the boy on the dirty, stinky mattress, kicking up a cloud of dust, then turned around and slammed the door shut, unable to keep looking at him. Going back to the living room, he walked past the old, hole-ridden, deteriorating sofa and walked over to the fridge. Opening it, he pulled out a beer. It was barely even cold, given how weak the refrigerator had gotten. No worries, he thought, remembering the silver lining of this shitfest. At least he had the money to replace it. But the thought wasn¡¯t enough to even make him smirk. Sitting down on the creaky couch, he stared at the broken BC¡ªthe last remaining sign of the easy-going life he had once lived. Eventually, his gaze drifted to the heavily moldy and smoke-damaged walls. What would his late wife think of this scenario? Their piece of shit crotch goblin came crawling back. Looking like that. ¡°What a fucking joke.¡± A sigh escaped his lips as he took a heavy swig of the cheap beer. Not long after, the empty bottle joined the collection of its brethren sitting on the coffee table. Then he drank another. And another. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. By the seventh beer, he found himself crying. As worthless as he was, Peter was still his son. So why? Why couldn¡¯t he have returned of his own volition? He felt anger bubble in his chest. Why did he have to return looking like that? Getting up, he walked out into the hallway and cracked the door open. Peter was¡­ sitting up, seemingly trying to get up to his feet. For some reason, this left Matthew feeling deeply unsettled. He frowned and took a step back. Then he scoffed. ¡°You miserable rat,¡± he spat venomously. ¡°I don¡¯t recognize you. Even below all those scars of yours, you look nothing like the son I remember. Let me guess, a perk of your lustrous second star, oh mighty archhuman!?¡± he teased, swinging the bottle around and spilling some beer. An involuntary chuckle escaped his lips. ¡°And look where it got you. After running away, look how far you¡¯ve come¡­¡± Then, the bubble in his chest burst. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t have returned looking like that,¡± he said. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t have returned!¡± he screamed. ¡°Not looking like that!¡± With fury unlike anything he had ever felt in his life, he swung the glass bottle and smashed it against his son¡¯s mangled, unrecognizable head. Instantly, he took a distressed step back, dropping the broken glass bottle. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± he rushed to apologize. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, I don¡¯t know what came over me¡­¡± he tried, but his son seemed¡­ fine. There was already a storm of emotions brewing in his mind, but the dark clouds were instantly pushed away by pure darkness as he witnessed his son flex and then, with a loud tearing sound, rip the restraints apart as if they were nothing but paper. He took a step back, and then another, nearly tumbling to the ground. His son¡­ or whoever this was, got up. With a clumsy, blind swing, he grabbed Matthew¡¯s face with incredible strength. ¡°You aren¡¯t Peter,¡± was the last thing he said before he felt the back of his head slam against the wall, his skull cave in, and saw the world turn dark. *** ¡®Fucking crazy bastard!¡¯ Freddy thought as he dropped the man to the ground and gripped his bleeding forehead. A notable burst of healing pulsed through his body. Dressed in nothing but tight, bloody, and beer-drenched underwear and a torn straitjacket, he dropped back down on the filthy bed and got a hold of himself. Life just wouldn¡¯t let him catch a break. First, that dumbass back in the cavern thought he was a monster and nearly killed him instead of rescuing him, then he was almost discovered as they just kept treating him even though he made extra sure that he was mangled beyond recognition, and now, he had assaulted a random stranger. It was self-defense, granted, but still. The guy probably wasn¡¯t going to let it go. Freddy¡¯s sight was terribly damaged. All he saw were blurry shapes. But the perception of a two-star arch was crazy good. Despite seeing nearly nothing, he still felt somewhat confident about the shape of the room and the general layout of things around him. He kept his ears wide open¡ªeven though he could barely hear anything¡ªto ensure nobody else lived there and then slowly entered the hallway. There, he walked to what he believed to be the exit. Once he cracked the door open and saw nothing but bright blurry green and yellow, he was confident he was correct. The supernatural perception of his had a limit, it seemed. He couldn¡¯t tell if there were any houses around or if there were other people. But he couldn¡¯t stay inside, either. That man would get up eventually. He had to be long gone by then or he was in deep shit. With squinted eyes, which kind of helped him see better, he slowly stepped outside. After trying his luck in trampling the grass with his bare feet, he concluded that his talent hadn¡¯t evolved into 10% Lifesteal, which he had hoped for. It didn¡¯t even seem to be 2% Lifesteal. But it did feel different. It was hard to say how, though. Eventually, he tracked down what appeared to be a shed or, well, a blurry brown box, but that could only be so many things in what he hoped was a secluded, rural area. In there, a cut on his finger discovered a scythe. It was a regular farming tool, nothing fancy, but it was precisely what he needed. Holding it in his grasp was difficult, however. His arms had been damaged a bit more than he intended, and his grip was unsteady. Still, he persevered. Playing the role of a dutiful son perfectly, he mowed the lawn. His talent was different. The amount of life force entering his body felt the same, but what it was doing¡­ didn¡¯t. It was faster, kind of, but then it no longer was. Deciding to leave the mystery of his talent¡¯s evolution for later, he sped up. Gradually, the scattering of miscellaneous pain around his body vanished. His sight was restored, and he felt fine. Yet again, the uncontrollable urge to weep in joy won over, and he cried to get it out of his system. It always felt good to have it all back. It was a relief and joy to an extent he almost thought he could get addicted to it. Returning to the house, which was dirty as crap and falling apart in too many ways to count, he located the fridge and grabbed a beer. ¡°Cheers,¡± he spoke for the first time in a long month, ¡°to never having to be mangled beyond recognition again!¡± Then, he took a large swig, downing the bottle in one gulp. It tasted like bottled piss, but he desperately needed a drink. Grabbing a knife from the kitchen, he bent down and looked at his calf, which, luckily, the doctors had no reason to look at. Making a rather big cut, he dug into his calf and pulled out a small, golden ring. He had pillaged it off of Janhalar¡¯s body, buried it inside his leg, and then healed it over to hide it there. It was a storage ring. After putting it on his finger and leaking a bit of essence into it, he looked inside. It was akin to diving into his ethercosm; he embodied his little reaper projection and could appear wherever he wanted. The space wasn¡¯t that big, only around the size of a large box, a bit bigger than maybe a cubic meter. It was densely packed with all sorts of crap he hadn¡¯t had the opportunity to look over last time. The dagger that radiated a horrible feeling and reminded him of something he couldn¡¯t quite put his finger on, as well as the ring that felt crazy dangerous, were both inside the space after he looted them from the dead Kraven patriarch. The man¡¯s robes had also seemed like some fancy stuff, but they had been torn beyond recognition. Looking at them in the Netherecho revealed that they had been thoroughly destroyed, having none of the aura of a cursed item. So he had left them behind, right on the dead bastard¡¯s body, which was resting at the bottom of that ocean. The man he had just knocked out weighed heavily on his mind. There was a possibility he would get up any moment now. Should he tie the man up? With brisk steps, he walked out of the kitchen and back into the hallway. Before he even stepped into the room, he spotted something disconcerting. Back inside the room where the man lay on the ground, a pool of blood was spreading. A big one. With cautious steps, Freddy walked over to the room and looked down. The man¡¯s eyes had glazed over. His skin had grown pale. There was an uncanny eeriness to the way his facial muscles rested. ¡°Holy shit¡­¡± Freddy muttered as he finally realized it. The man was dead. For a brief moment, a sense of relief flushed his body. Then, he caught himself. ¡°What the fuck is wrong with me¡­?¡± he muttered, but his self-chastisement was half-hearted. Truthfully, he didn¡¯t feel any real remorse. He had done what he did in self-defense, and even then, he had only aimed to knock the man out. Slightly disturbed at his apparent cold-bloodedness, he ignored the corpse and took another look outside. After carefully glancing in every direction, he was confident there were no close neighbors. He could spot a few houses in the distance, and what appeared to be a little village, but other than that, there were no major settlements in sight. Then, he grabbed the scythe to heal his injured leg, which was still bleeding. The moment he swung the scythe, however, he was caught off-guard¡ªhis leg stopped bleeding instantly. Then, as he continued, it mended a lot faster than he expected it to, but it was highly unusual. It looked as if some sort of weird red tissue held the wound shut, and after staring at it for a while, the tissue started fraying, slowly falling apart and opening the wound again. ¡°What the¡­!?¡± That was the effect of first-aid-quality healing! Had his talent dropped in quality? No, that made no sense; he was fully healed, so¡­ how? Why? Grabbing the tool again, he swung, repeating the effect. First, his wound instantly stopped bleeding. Then, it sealed shut with this red fleshy tissue. Then, the tissue started turning into raw skin, which then healed into scarred skin, and finally, the scar vanished. That was quite different from how it used to work. Before, the wound would be there until the final cell was meticulously reconstructed. Supreme-quality healing didn¡¯t work like this. This wasn¡¯t supreme-quality healing. Running his muddled mind over what he knew of healing qualities, he soon realized what was happening. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me¡­¡± he whispered. ¡°Is this¡­?¡± Did his talent evolve to have dynamic-quality healing or something of the sort? Based on what he knew, that recovery had gone from minimal to first aid, then natural, supernatural, and finally, supreme quality, adapting to what he needed the most at that time. For a moment, he was incredibly underwhelmed to discover this. Until he realized something¡ªthis wasn¡¯t bad at all. To say that minimal to supreme quality healing went from worst to best would be¡­ uneducated. It was like this¡ªwhich was better, everyday, cheap food ingredients or high-end cuisine? The latter, obviously, but if one were starving and had only a hundred dollars to feed themselves for the next week, naturally, they would choose the first option. Healing followed similar principles. While minimal-quality healing did, well, the minimum, it did it very well. For the same amount of life force needed for an unnoticeable shred of supreme-quality healing, minimal-quality healing could be life-saving. And all it did was stop bleeding, essentially. Technically, it temporarily paused ¡®deterioration,¡¯ so it could postpone death by poison and stuff like that. Then, it was first aid quality. It mended tissue back together with a temporary, fragile binding. Again, it was a bandaid fix, but one that could easily save a life. After that, it was natural quality, which was arguably the worst healing quality. It could do its job about as well as manual surgery, sort of, which naturally meant that it left behind a lot of consequences and rarely did a perfect job. Supernatural healing was next, and it was basically the little brother of supreme healing. It could do most of the same¡ªregrow limbs, heal the stuff that generally wouldn¡¯t recover on its own, and such, but just worse. Also, this was generally considered the ¡®best¡¯ healing quality since it was much more cost-efficient than supreme quality, which was considered more of a luxury. True, limbs regrown by supernatural-quality healing were far from perfect. They looked discolored and often had minor deformations. But the difference between supreme and supernatural-quality healing, in most practical cases, tended to be the difference between slightly extending a stump and regrowing an entire arm. No matter how close to the original the extended stump was, everyone would want an entire arm back. Given that his talent evolution fixed the primary problem he had with it¡ªits lack of use in combat¡ªhe was thrilled. A small part of him was still a bit miffed, however. Given what he¡¯d achieved, shouldn¡¯t it have become like 50% Lifesteal? Well, he just hoped this was better than he expected it to be. Well then. There were various upgrades and new powers to look over, but another issue took precedence. While there was some merit in arguing that it had been in self-defense, it was undeniable that he had just killed a completely innocent man. On top of that, he had no damn clue where he was. ¡°What the hell do I do now?¡± Chapter 43 - Rebirth The cool, pleasant wind of early spring caressed the tall wheat, carried clouds of dust across the tilled soil, and rustled the branches of a nearby tree. The tall sun bit with the burning heat of noon, and none but a few tiny clouds speckled the edges of the distant horizon. There, in his torn straitjacket and white underwear, splattered in blood and smelling of beer, stood a reaper holding a scythe, carefully observing the house where he had¡ªless than twenty minutes ago¡ªclaimed a life. He wasn''t thrilled to have done that. His original plan had been to wait until night when he could sneak out, but things went sour when the man smashed a bottle over his head. In front of the house, there was a toolshed. Behind it was a small stable with two green drakes inside; the domesticated, intelligent animals were used either for transportation or as farm animals. In front of it, there was a tiny, ragged carriage. Sparse houses marked the nearby area as a rural settlement, and a road led to where they were more densely packed. Freddy took a deep breath as he carried the scythe to the shed. While he walked calmly, his mind sprinted. He had lived through an unbelievable set of circumstances, and it was tempting to believe it was finally over. But he knew better than that. The shit he was in was as deep as it had ever been. First, he had no clue where he was. Second, did Peter have more family members? What if someone was on their way to visit his father? True, judging from what he had seen, this man didn¡¯t seem like much of a social animal, but the return of a crippled son was something people would talk about. And then there was the third, most pressing issue¡ªhe had no ID. Perhaps this wouldn¡¯t be the biggest issue in the world if his intent was to contact the authorities and tell his story. But that was a stupid idea on too many levels to count¡ªand he was done trusting authorities. Taking a deep breath, he reoriented himself. One step at a time. First, he entered the deteriorating house and the horribly filthy toilet. There were piles of cardboard tubes and unwashed clothes, a thick stratum of filth on the floor, heavy limescale on the toilet bowl and bathtub, and layers of rust on the faucets. The only even vaguely clean part of the room was the mirror. He stepped before it and took a look at himself. He was immediately taken aback at his appearance. There was no hair on his head, as he already knew, but even beyond that, he looked different. Very different. With every star, archhumans developed new notable physiological traits. For him, that seemed to be becoming a lot more handsome, beautiful even, and¡­ taller? Wow, he thought to himself. Really won the evolution lottery on my looks, at least. He went to the other room in the house and looked for some clothes. Everything looked four sizes too big for him, and nothing was clean. There was a box on top of the closet. He pulled it down and looked inside. There were clothes inside, and these were maybe only one size too small. Given how they smelled of mold, they hadn¡¯t been in use for a long time. The only articles that didn¡¯t look utterly ridiculous on him were the plain white T-shirt and black sweatpants, which he had to tie quite firmly to keep in place around his waist, and he had to curl the leg sleeves to make them sit above his feet. Speaking of feet, he managed to dig out some old sneakers from the back corner of Peter¡¯s room. They were his size. But they didn¡¯t fit. Looking at his feet, he realized that they, too, had changed in structure, appearing wider and perhaps even slightly longer. Had his evolution made his feet grow? Sighing, he forced the sneakers on anyway. He needed something. There wasn¡¯t much room in the storage ring. But, with a flash of essence and a soft popping sound, the shirt vanished and appeared pushed against the upper wall of the small box. Then, he thought. He planned. There was no time to conjure a perfect solution, so he stuck to the main points and acted fast. The idea of burning the house down flashed briefly in his mind, but that would bring too much attention too soon. Should he bury the body in the fields? Finding a good spot and digging an appropriately large hole for the bulky man wouldn¡¯t take just a few minutes of work, and as far as he knew, someone could already be on their way there. All he needed was to postpone the discovery of the body for a while. Just long enough for him to make an escape. Although he dropped the idea of burning the house down, he took a lighter with him, just in case. Then, he looked for money. He found a wallet in the living room and a safe in the bedroom. Luckily, the man was a cheapskate, so the safe was rusty trash that blew open with only a single Flowing Strike kick. The wallet had only a couple hundred bucks, but the safe held almost thirteen thousand dollars. Somehow, he squeezed the money into the tiny space left in the storage ring. There was no hope of fitting anything without getting rid of something else. He closed all the windows, pulled all the curtains, lowered the shades, and went outside. There, he found the carriage behind the house. One Flowing Strike after another turned it into a pile of scrap wood he haphazardly threw into the house, where nobody would see it. Then, he walked into the stables. Judging by the single set of reins, the small carriage was probably meant to be pulled by only one of these beings. Both hissed at him once they saw him, and he approached them carefully. For one of them, he changed the dirty water and spilled out a massive pile of food to keep it fed. For the other, he dragged it out, killed it with a few solid punches, walked over to the house, and flung it inside, hiding it in the kitchen where the smell hopefully wouldn¡¯t reach the porch. Just in case, he dragged a wheelbarrow of manure closer to the porch to disguise it. This way, if anyone visited, it would look like this man had gone somewhere. That was believable enough. If the ruse worked for just a few days, it would be enough. Locking the doors to the house and throwing the keys far into the wheat fields, he turned around. He would prefer it if none of the residents saw him. So, he looked for the direction with the fewest houses and found that it took to a large forest. Then, he ran. *** The thick canopy above allowed a few rays of sunlight to peer through. The forest was dense in low bushes, the ground was coated in leaves, and for the most part, other than the distant chirping of birds and rustling of branches, it was quiet. This was Freddy¡¯s third day of running. Sitting on the ground, he lifted a finger above his mouth, and a thin stream of water began flowing a few moments later. Drinking water created from essence was a fool''s errand. It would simply vanish when it entered his body, so he had to condense real water out of the air. Making water evaporate with essence control was a lot easier than condensing it, however. But he got the hang of it with a few days of practice. Extreme thirst was one hell of a motivator. If his body was still as densely packed with water as it had been less than two months ago, he wouldn¡¯t need water for weeks, but to disguise himself as Peter Vane, he had to undo Abyssal Depths through the use of a technique he jokingly referred to as the Shallow Puddles untempering technique. It would take him a while of regular use of Abyssal Depths to regain the progress he¡¯d lost. Abyssal Depths could only increase one¡¯s body weight up to 30% per stage. At stage one, it could do 60%. Given how skinny he was at the moment, it wouldn¡¯t take him long to max it out. Looking around the woods, he finally felt safe enough to take a break. Although three whole days of running might have seemed like overkill, there was always the possibility of someone with a specialized talent showing up and tracking him down. The further away he was, the better. He hoped that this case wouldn¡¯t seem important enough to call on someone like that, but with the disappearance of the presumably disabled Peter Vane, things could get complicated. With his decreased body weight, he felt as light as a feather, and he could already feel the impact of his improved two-star physique kicking in, even though he was still frighteningly skinny. Sitting down in a small clearing a few steps away from a tree, he finally looked through the ring. It was packed with a whole load of containers, bags, papers, a bunch of random gadgets he wasn¡¯t familiar with, and a few vials of¡­ blood. Of course. First, he took out all the papers. They were mostly either documents or personal records of the patriarch. There were a lot of random contracts and stuff. As far as he could tell, most of it was information that would be useful to Kraven or their enemies. But to him, there was little of value. Given that he had no intent to reveal that he was the one who killed the patriarch, he would be getting rid of these documents. Although he was tempted to take out the lighter and burn them, he knew that wasn¡¯t a good idea in a forest for several reasons. Instead, he tore them up, used Create Water to turn them into paper mush, then buried them. There was what appeared to be some form of contact device hidden among the other stuff. He was paranoid that taking it out for even a moment would clue someone in on his location. Better to stay safe. Other than the vials of blood and random medicines, there seemed to be a suspicious lack of consumables. No essence recovery elixirs, healing potions, or boosts; it was likely that Janhalar had used them during their fight without him noticing. It made sense. The man had used numerous abilities and had no doubt flushed his entire essence reserve several times over. There were a few random pills and other stuff, but nothing he was willing to gamble his life on trying out. In fact, he was scared of pretty much everything in this ring. The tech he didn¡¯t want to touch because he was afraid it could be tracked; the pills and stuff he didn¡¯t want to take because he might die; the blood he couldn¡¯t use at all¡ªwhat if something could smell it? Perhaps it was all just paranoia, but the personal contents of a four-star archhuman weren¡¯t something to be played with. If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. He could interact with the stuff inside the ring and arrange it as he pleased, and removing all the papers had freed up quite a bit of space, so he split the remaining inventory into two piles. The first was for what he wanted to get rid of. Anything ethertech-related, with any sort of Kraven insignia on it, and all the vials of blood went on that side. The second, however¡­ First, there was the ring and the dagger. This was all the equipment that had been on the man¡¯s body, other than the robes, which had been torn into useless scraps. All the random pills and other consumable stuff was here, too. He didn¡¯t know what they were used for, but they definitely couldn¡¯t be tracked. Probably. And then, there was the final item. This one he took out, fully confident that he knew it was safe to interact with. After all, it was something he was already deeply familiar with. Opening the small glass box, he pulled out the prime vestige from within. It was a crimson-red ball with spiked, serrated teeth and wide, wild eyes. ¡°Who is it, my child,¡± it said in a feminine voice, ¡°that you wish to see bleed?¡± ¡°What¡¯s the talent you hold?¡± he asked, cutting to the chase. ¡°If you invite me into your soul,¡± it answered, ¡°for every unique drop of blood you consume, you will gain more authority over your own.¡± ¡°Huh,¡± he mused. He assumed that meant it was a stackable power-up that enhanced essence manipulation, at least for the blood affinity. Damn, that¡¯s freakin¡¯ good, he thought. Given the phrasing, he presumed that it meant the essence control would improve whenever the user consumed the blood of a new species. There was a practically infinite number of different animals and monsters, making this an unbelievably potent power. ¡°What affinity do you hold?¡± he asked. ¡°Blood, life, and death,¡± it answered. For a long moment, he simply stared at the thing he was holding with his jaw hanging wide open. ¡°Hoooooooooly¡ª¡± he exclaimed. Then he frowned. ¡°God fucking damn it!¡± he swore. What a shame. This was an absolutely top-tier prime vestige¡ªand he had no use for it. But wait. "I want to accept your power into my soul," he tried. Wasn''t there something about unique primes that Madame had told him? "You fool! You are clearly already awakened!" it screamed. Well, there goes that plan. It wasn¡¯t unique, so he couldn¡¯t claim it, and it wasn¡¯t like he could sell it, either. That sounded like a way to advertise to the Kraven faction that he was related to their patriarch¡¯s death. Still, this was one hell of a freakin¡¯ talent. Three affinities, too, and it had the life and death affinities!? Insane. Had Janhalar been holding onto it for a future successor? ¡®Hmmm¡­¡¯ And if he now had it in his possession¡­ ¡°Heh,¡± he smirked. He was sure this was a blow the Kraven clan wouldn¡¯t easily recover from. Served those bastards right. If his Super Farmer prime was worth at least seventy million, then this¡­ It must have been worth billions. It made sense. A single little ball like this could easily solidify the future of an entire faction. This made him think¡ªwhy not give it to his own kid? Or maybe use it as a political tool one day. It wasn¡¯t all lost. There would be a chance to make use of it. Eventually. Still, returning it into the ring felt like throwing his firstborn into a river. Even just a billion dollars, no, even a million sounded like it could patch a big gaping money-shaped hole in his heart. Sighing, he turned his attention to the dagger. Yet again, when he saw it, he defensively raised his hand to defend his throat. This had also happened the first time he looked at it. It gave off a strong sense of danger and threat to one¡¯s life. And it made his neck feel itchy. Taking it out for a moment, he held it, taking it in. Holding it felt nice, or whatever the bloody, violent version of nice felt like. But something was bothering him. Its appearance tickled something in the distant back of his mind. Had he seen this somewhere before? The idea seemed absurd, but maybe Janhalar had used it as a torture tool at one point, and he¡¯d simply forgotten about that. Returning it back inside, he took out the ring. Now this. This felt strange. The ring was made from dry, almost sticky, red material. It felt like cured meat to the touch, and the pearl on it looked¡ªand felt¡ªunexpectedly cheap. Like it was nothing but a piece of plastic. But the presence this thing gave off was clear on one thing. This wasn¡¯t just a toy. It gave off a sensation he couldn¡¯t quite put his finger on, but swore that it felt connected to his soul. Perhaps it was resonating with his blood affinity? Carefully gripping it with his thumb and index, he slowly put it on the ring finger on his other hand. It was pretty big, and he was worried that it would fall off, but as soon as he put it on¡ª The ring suddenly tightened, coiling around his finger. ¡°Shit!¡± he screamed and reflexively pulled on it, but it didn¡¯t budge. A sharp pain spread through his flesh as he felt this thing assimilate into his bone. But then, in a moment, the pain vanished as if it had never been there. ¡°Fuuuuck¡­¡± he breathed out. Well, that was a mistake. But it wasn¡¯t the end of the world. With his talent, he could sever his finger and¡ª ¡°Wait,¡± he said, going quiet and focusing on the strange object. The sensation he had faintly felt before¡­ He had been right. This thing was connected to his soul. More specifically¡ªit was bound to Bloodshed. So that was how Janhalar found him. He had been wondering how the hell the man appeared. ¡®What is that, Master?¡¯ Bloodshed¡¯s voice echoed in its mind. Freddy was surprised to hear it. The bloody skeleton would speak sometimes, but this rarely lasted long. According to what it told him earlier, it seemed to have limited energy and couldn¡¯t talk too often. Rather than waste the rare opportunity with idle thoughts, he asked, ¡°Bloodshed, can you feel anything strange with this ring?¡± Instead of answering his question, Bloodshed¡¯s presence suddenly vanished. ¡°Huh?¡± he blurted dumbly. A stream of red liquid flowed out of his ring and fell to the ground, spinning in a vortex. A moment later, the bloody skeleton stood there, at right about the height of his waist. He blinked at it. Bloodshed immediately knelt and prostrated itself. ¡°I was content with serving Master through Blood Sacrifice to be there when he most needed me. To think Master would be so generous¡­¡± Freddy didn¡¯t look at his soul. Whether anything had happened to his ability was none of his concern. The first thing he did was pick up the skeleton and give it a massive hug while laughing like a maniac. ¡°You¡¯re back!¡± he cheered. ¡°You¡¯re actually back outside!¡± He didn¡¯t think of the benefits, uses, or gains. At that moment, he only saw his friend being set free again. Pretty much anyone would judge him for considering a unique spirit a buddy, but he had no respect for the opinions of others. Nobody deserved to spit on the sacrifices this bloody little goofball had made for him. And the argument that ¡®spirits weren¡¯t people¡¯ held no weight, either, since Bloodshed had a genuine soul. The construct seemed rather confused at his behavior, and his affection made his shirt look like he¡¯d hugged someone to death, but he didn¡¯t care. Eventually, he put Bloodshed back down and breathed a relieved, satisfied sigh. Checking his ethercosm, he spotted¡­ The cage was still there. A part of it was bent, creating an opening, but that didn¡¯t catch his attention. No. The thing that caught his eye was something else entirely. There was a giant red ring surrounding his first star. Freddy¡¯s first star was already quite large. Compared to that, his second star was only at around a tenth of its volume. The appearance of this strange phenomenon caught him entirely off-guard. Immediately, he returned and looked at the ring. Was this the true effect of whatever this item did? ¡°Master,¡± Bloodshed called, spotting his confusion. ¡°That ring you have on your finger. If you wish to know, I can tell you what it does.¡± Freddy looked at Bloodshed and nodded. ¡°Hell yeah!¡± he said, offering Bloodshed a fist bump. ¡°Do you¡­?¡± It started. ¡°Do you wish to punch me?¡± ¡°No!¡± he denied vehemently. ¡°You¡¯re meant to smack your fist into mine.¡± ¡°If that is what Master wishes.¡± Then, it lifted a bony arm and swung a clumsy fist forward. It struck true. Freddy grinned. ¡°That ring,¡± it said, continuing its explanation, ¡°it reduces essence expenditure for blood abilities and increases their power.¡± ¡°What!?¡± he spluttered, feeling excitement bubbling in his chest. ¡°How much?¡± ¡°The expenditure goes from a hundred parts to perhaps ninety-seven,¡± it declared. ¡°As for the power, it goes from a hundred parts to a little over a hundred and two.¡± Well. That seemed mighty underwhelming. 3% lower cost and 2% higher power. Well, he was sure that this thing was valuable, but he was expecting more from an item that originated from the patriarch of a blood clan. ¡°Master,¡± Bloodshed added. ¡°Hmm?¡± ¡°That ring is deeply connected to the concept of bloodshed. I feel that through bloodshed, its power will grow.¡± That made his mind go blank. His mouth gaped as he slowly turned to face the fleshy piece of jewelry. He remembered a conversation he had had with Madame a long time ago. Back then, she told him that the only way for an item to grow¡­ He gulped. This was a unique item. Although unique items were the least valuable among uniques, this still changed the situation entirely. He couldn¡¯t show it off, so he needed a way to hide it. He had to buy gloves or something as soon as possible. Before that, he turned to Bloodshed. ¡°Your shell is still in my ethercosm. Does that mean that you have a way to return?¡± It nodded slowly. ¡°I can return and leave as long as Master still wears that ring.¡± ¡°Just to clarify, you are a spirit now, correct?¡± ¡°Indeed.¡± ¡°So, how long can you stay in reality?¡± he asked. It paused briefly, then answered, ¡°I do not feel any limits.¡± Freddy frowned at that. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t it be limited for spirits?¡± Spirits could leave the Netherecho and enter reality, but it was usually only for a brief time, several minutes at most. ¡°I do not know,¡± it said simply. ¡°Huh¡­ alright. Well then, uh¡­ Would you want to¡­?¡± he didn¡¯t know how to phrase his next question, but he tried anyway. ¡°Would you prefer to¡­ ride¡­ in my soul, or like on my back, or¡­?¡± ¡°However Master plea¡ª¡± ¡°No,¡± he interrupted it, waving his arms and wagging his finger. ¡°What ¡®Master pleases,¡¯ in this case, is whatever you prefer,¡± he stated, pointing a finger at it. ¡°So, which will it be?¡± ¡°Very well then. I believe that being in the soul will be more convenient.¡± ¡°¡­ But is that really what you want?¡± he asked. ¡°Or are you just saying that because you want to make it easier on me?¡± ¡°I¡­ I do not understand. All I wish is to serve Master,¡± it said. ¡°I have no other desires.¡± ¡°Okay then!¡± he said. ¡°If you truly wish to serve me, then I command you to get yourself a desire. I want you to want one of the two options for a reason that doesn¡¯t include my personal benefit.¡± The skeleton stared at him blankly. A few seconds later, it began shivering, then it started cracking and oozing blood from its bones. ¡°Whoa!¡± he jumped. ¡°Are you okay?¡± ¡°I¡­ I can not do that, Master. I have failed you,¡± it said as it continued its deterioration. ¡°Okay, okay, I get it, you can stop, you never had to do that, I was really just joking, okay?¡± he rushed, tripping over his own words. Suddenly, the cracks began mending, and Bloodshed stood tall once more. ¡°I apologize. I misinterpreted your words.¡± He frowned, his hands still reaching out for Bloodshed. But his fingers curled a bit, and he slumped back. His gaze softened. ¡°Bloodshed,¡± he said. ¡°You can come back into my soul.¡± The skeleton obeyed, melting into a liquid that flowed through the air and into the ring, leaving a silence in the woods behind. Loneliness. Well then, he thought to himself. It was time to continue his search for civilization. With a sigh, he turned around and continued running. It took him only a few more hours to run into a road. From there, it was simple to track it to a settlement. As he passed through the woods, he spotted the shimmering glass buildings in the distance. It wasn¡¯t a large city like Pittersville but more of a medium-sized town, as far as he could tell. Eventually, a sign revealed the town¡¯s name¡ªWelcome to Imperta. Chapter 44 - Bargain Imperta was a medium-sized town, with only around fifty thousand people living there. In one of its nicer corners, there was a street. It was clean of dirt, potholes, and other signs of deterioration. Carriages not moved by drake but self-propelled dominated the busy avenue¡ªwith each day, they became cheaper and more accessible, even to the mortal folk. There was a boutique between a small restaurant and a lawyer''s office. The doors opened, and an above-average-height male walked out. He wore a branded white hoodie with the image of a purple oriental dragon on it and simple, sporty, black sweatpants. He had what appeared to be a buzz cut, but it was the early stubble growing from what had only a few days ago been a shiny bald head. Freddy left the shop and threw the dirty old clothes into the nearest trash can. New but unwashed clothing was itchy on his skin, but he was used to way worse discomfort than that. The streets were busy, and this included the sidewalk. Numerous people walked about, their clothing just different enough from a year ago to make him feel how much things had changed during his absence. He heaved a heavy sigh, turned, and started walking. What he needed to do the most was find himself an ID. Not just a fake piece of plastic but an actual, government-registered identification document. There were two ways to get it: legally¡ªand¡­ The other way. The only people he had ever called parents were¡­ problematic individuals. Indeed. They taught him a few things no child should ever need to learn. There was a common misconception. Many who lived in nicer areas believed that crime happened in back alleys. Perhaps sometimes, yes. But for the most part, those were empty. No, the reality of criminal activity was far more depressing than that. Around half of it happened behind closed doors. And the other half¡­ He went on a walk through the busy avenue. Then, he turned into a less populated one. The pristine buildings, large logos of reputable corporations, and signs of flourishing life gradually vanished. The streets grew more run down, the buildings older, and the people¡­ poorer. Half behind closed doors¡ªwhile the rest happened in plain sight. He walked past an old, closed shop and glanced at his reflection in the broken glass. There was a problem. His clothes were fit for the job, and his haircut suited the purpose. But the way he carried himself¡­ No, that wouldn¡¯t do. His posture was too straight, and his face was too calm and clean. He got closer to the glass and took a good look at himself. Then, he frowned, lifted his lip in a half-snarl, and scrunched his nose. After adjusting his face for a while, he felt that he looked appropriately pissed. Then, he turned to the side and adjusted his posture. Hunched over would do. He put his hands in his pockets and even pushed his sweatpants down just a bit. Good. There was an immediate change in how people perceived him. Passersby gave him more space. People turned around to keep an eye on him if they were walking in front, and they either sped up to get as far from him as possible or slowed down enough for him to overtake them. But it wasn¡¯t quite there yet. He walked past a tattoo parlor. A while later, he walked out with three new tattoos. The first was of a spiderweb with a black widow right below his left eye. Then, a large patch of snake scales covered part of the right side of his face and neck. And finally, a silver heart was on his right temple. Cheap, trashy, and precisely what he needed. Out of three, the silver heart would be the most impactful. It referenced a man from the early era of the rift. Someone who had used their talent to enslave thousands of women into a personal harem. He was among the first three-stars on the planet and had used his power exclusively for personal benefit. A genocidal, psychopathic, serial rapist, one of the most despised people to have ever lived¡ªand an idol to the lowest trash society had to offer. There was just one more tiny thing. He walked into the closest store and bought a pack of cigarettes. There. Perfection. After a while of walking, he strode past a teenager smoking something. It did not smell like tobacco. ¡°Hey, kid,¡± he turned to face the boy. ¡°Who sold you that?¡± The kid glanced at him and licked his lips. ¡°Treat me to a round, and I¡¯ll tell you.¡± Without hesitation, he kicked the boy in the shin and grabbed him by the neck. ¡°Listen to me, you little shit,¡± he whispered threateningly. ¡°Tell me who gave you that, or I¡¯ll bust your knees, you hear me?¡± The boy panicked hard and dropped the joint, raising his arms. ¡°Okay, okay, geez, let me go!¡± Then, as he was released, he picked the smoking blunt back off the ground. Half an hour later, after following the kid all the way there, he found himself on the second floor of a shabby old building, knocking on a rotting wooden door. A small compartment on the door was pushed open, and someone looked through it. A brisk ¡®tch¡¯ was heard as the man spotted who stood outside. The little opening slammed shut immediately afterward. Seconds passed and added to nearly a minute. It was clear that he wasn¡¯t going to open the door. ¡®Figures,¡¯ he thought, ¡®This bastard is probably only after safe targets like young teenagers.¡¯ Then, with a grin and a slight feeling that he was enjoying this roleplay a bit more than he should be, he raised his leg and, with a Flowing Strike, busted the door wide open. ¡°What the fuck!?¡± the man inside the run-down apartment yelled. He was a short, heavily tattooed Asian with long, black hair tied in a ponytail. ¡°What do you think you¡¯re¡ªack¡ª!?¡± he groaned as Freddy picked him up by the neck and slammed him against the wall. ¡°What¡­ do you think you¡¯re¡­?¡± he kept trying. ¡°Shut the fuck up and listen to me,¡± Freddy silenced him. ¡°Unless you think you can beat a two-star in a fight?¡± The man¡¯s face instantly drained of all color, and the young teenager bolted and ran away. That was a pretty appropriate response. Archhumans were a higher class in society. Even with a garbage talent, abilities alone were enough to earn a better living. But regardless of the talent, every two-star was way above the common folk. Given his current appearance, matched with his attitude and actions, anyone in these waters could only conclude one thing¡ªhe was no ordinary goon. ¡°Alright,¡± the man rushed to say. ¡°Please just don¡¯t kill me, I have a younger sis¡ª¡± ¡°I don¡¯t care if you have a dozen,¡± he said, tightening the grip on the man¡¯s throat. ¡°Spare me the bullshit. Either you do what I tell you or you fly out that window. Capiche?¡± The man nodded. *** Sitting in a dark corner of an abandoned warehouse, Freddy casually smoked a cig. He hadn¡¯t had one in a long time. The man he had coerced into bringing him here was a bit away from him, sitting on another old cardboard box. He appeared a bit tense but a lot more relaxed after realizing that he wasn¡¯t going to die that day. He flicked the man a cigarette, and the man caught it mid-air. They had talked a bit. He had sold the man some bullshit story about having a fallout with his previous boss and how he needed a new identity now. After a few hours of waiting, three men walked into the dark corner. A Black man and two Caucasians behind him. He was the upper chain link¡ªthe supplier who dealt with distribution to several dealers, and while he wasn¡¯t a two-star, he was close to the peak of the first. He was a tall, bulky man with big arms, wearing a clean wife beater accented by the shiny golden necklace. His manly, chiseled face had a permanent frown on it. The other two beside him wore casual clothing and seemed to be ordinary goons. ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± he asked the Asian man in a raspy voice, cocking his head in Freddy¡¯s direction. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Before he could get an answer, Freddy interrupted, ¡°This, you motherfucker, is your goddamn client!¡± The two goons shifted their posture, and the man raised an arm to stop them. ¡°What do you want?¡± he asked. ¡°Information,¡± he said. ¡°ID dealer. No fakes. Only real, registered documents.¡± The man frowned at that. Then, with squinted eyes, shifting on one leg and eyeing him sideways, he said, ¡°Maybe,¡± he half-agreed. ¡°What¡¯s in it for me?¡± Unhesitantly, he took out ten thousand dollars, making sure everyone could see he pulled them out of a storage ring and placed the money on a box beside him. ¡°Ten grand.¡± ¡°Hey, now,¡± the man said, grinning widely. ¡°With a storage artifact like that on you, I¡¯m sure you could offer a bit¡ª¡± But before he could finish his sentence, Freddy lifted his leg, initiated a Flowing Strike, and slammed it into the ground, shattering the ground with a loud crash. ¡°I could also snap your neck,¡± he threatened. ¡°Either you take this and give me a contact or fuck off,¡± he said, already picking the money up and getting ready to walk away. The man gulped, eyeing the massive footprint Freddy¡¯s technique had left in the ground. ¡°Wait,¡± the man called. ¡°Okay, deal. I¡¯ll even take you there myself.¡± ¡°Was that really that hard?¡± he asked as he walked over and handed him the money. As they started walking out, the man counted the bills and paused. ¡°Wait!¡± he called. ¡°I count nine.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± he confirmed. ¡°There would have been ten if you¡¯d kept your mouth shut. Now lead the way.¡± After hesitating for a moment, the man sighed and gave it up. *** The carriage ride lasted for quite a while. They left the town and entered the forest. He was slightly worried that they would take him out into the wilderness and dispatch him, but he was confident he¡¯d win if that happened. Eventually, they reached a clearing in the woods. The road became much nicer, and they entered what appeared to be some sort of out-of-town gated community, kind of like that part of the twenty-fourth district he had been in when he was under Madame. Except here, there were no large residential buildings. It was primarily fancy mansions, with a few hovering above the ground. Freddy scoffed upon seeing this. But he became considerably warier. After passing through the gates with some form of identification, they rode into the opulent settlement. The man eventually parked the vehicle in front of a mansion, and they all got out. They walked into the building. Opulent, modern, and well-equipped, it had all the luxuries a man could want. They stood in the open lobby, with a few doors leading to the side and a large staircase taking to the upper floor. To the right of the door, a suited bodyguard sat peeling an orange, eyeing them warily. And, from a door on the second floor, someone walked out. Wearing nothing but tight leggings and a fur coat, a man with dazzling, ear-length golden hair and blue eyes strode into the open space. Both his broad smile revealing his pearly white teeth and the numerous bits of jewelry hanging off his partially exposed body shone brightly. The part of his torso that the fur coat didn¡¯t cover revealed the chiseled, scarred body of someone no stranger to mortal danger. ¡°Welcome!¡± he greeted them cheerfully. ¡°To my humble abode.¡± Sighing openly in exasperation, Freddy impatiently scratched the back of his neck. The Black man to his side walked out and said, ¡°This is the guy.¡± ¡°Hmmm?¡± the coated man smiled and gazed down at them. ¡°Well, come on up,¡± he invited, then snapped his fingers. ¡°Marcy, bring five cups of coffee to the meeting room.¡± Everyone present was invited to the talk. The meeting room was a relatively restrained, mostly monochrome gray room with a round couch holding a large coffee table in the middle. The coffee soon arrived, and Freddy grabbed the cup placed in front of the dealer who had brought him here and swapped it for his own. The golden-haired man smiled at that in amusement, and the Black man shook his head as he confidently took a sip, probably already knowing that the odds of it being tampered with were nonexistent. That made him relax, but he didn¡¯t show it outwardly. The coated man clapped his hands, rubbing them before he offered one in a handshake, ¡°Call me Spike,¡± he introduced himself. ¡°Nice to meet you¡­¡± he let the last word hang. Freddy thought for a while, then he said, ¡°You can refer to me as Slave.¡± ¡°Slave, huh?¡± he giggled. ¡°That¡¯s one hell of a pseudonym. Is there a story behind it?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± he said, then refused to elaborate. The man blinked. ¡°All right. So, what brings you here?¡± ¡°Fell out with my boss,¡± he bullshitted. ¡°Gotta change my identity.¡± ¡°Fun,¡± Spike scoffed. ¡°Who were you under? Killean? Jon? You dress like a Crane,¡± he fired off a few guesses. Then, his gaze lingered on the cartoon dragon on Freddy¡¯s hoodie as he cocked an eyebrow. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me¡­ Basilisk?¡± None of the names roused any reaction from him, and eventually, the man gave up. ¡°You¡¯re no fun, Slave. Okay then,¡± he sighed, ¡°Let¡¯s get to business. What do you want?¡± ¡°Valid ID,¡± he stated. ¡°Water affinity on the record.¡± ¡°Valid¡­ I¡­ D¡­¡± The man let that roll off his tongue as he sucked air through his teeth and made kissing noises. ¡°All right.¡± Then, with a swing of his arm, a plastic, transparent document folder appeared. Within was a small stack of A4 format papers and an ID card. ¡°If you want it legit,¡± he said. ¡°This is all I can give you.¡± Freddy grabbed the folder and took out the ID. Liam Cuttingsworth was the name of the person on the ID. It was a man with very different facial features from his own. But evolutions could be fickle; hell, even he no longer looked like himself after his ascension. The rest of the papers held what seemed to be the man¡¯s entire life story. ¡°That was one of my goons,¡± the golden-haired man said. ¡°Died two years ago. His death was never reported. No living family members. His full life story is right there, including pictures of old acquaintances and basic information about them,¡± he briefly introduced the contents. ¡°This is premium stuff. You won¡¯t find better anywhere.¡± That might very well not have been overly exaggerated. Documents like this were impossible to fake. One would have to have too many connections in the government for it to be viable. The only way to get one¡¯s hands on something like this would be to take over someone else¡¯s life. Naturally, with so much information, this wouldn¡¯t be cheap. Obviously, he was hoping to change his legal name. But that wouldn¡¯t be possible for at least half a year. If done any sooner than that, it was likely to rouse suspicion. After having a two-year gap in one¡¯s life history, suddenly reappearing, looking different, and wanting to change one¡¯s name was a series of red flags that could make certain Old Earth regimes shrivel in shame. In fact, it was likely that he would be questioned once he appeared looking different, no matter what. On top of that, in case anyone learned of his reappearance and tried to step into contact with him, he needed to know all he could to play the role of this person to the best of his ability. The added information was highly valuable. He breathed heavily. This would be pretty damn expensive. He hoped to throw some random stuff from the ring at this man and get it over with, but now, he was sweating. The only valuables he could give were the consumables that were in no obvious way related to Kraven. There were random bags of herbs and an assortment of containers holding pills and liquids, totaling nine different items he had at his disposal. He had no goddamn idea what they were worth, however. There was a possibility that they were worth either a lot more than he thought or a lot less. Just recklessly throwing them out wouldn¡¯t be a good idea. But what else could he offer? Anything from the no-no pile was a big fucking no-no. Too risky. The prime was off the table. Too valuable. The dagger¡­ Freddy closed his eyes and crossed his arms, pretending to be in contemplation. In his ethercosm, he floated over to Bloodshed¡¯s cage and floated right outside. ¡°Bloodshed,¡± he called. ¡°Tell me everything you know about the dagger in my storage item.¡± Bloodshed¡¯s eyes lit up as it answered his question, ¡°It holds an immense aura of blood within.¡± He thought about that for a moment before asking. ¡°Can it grow in power the way the ring can?¡± ¡°No,¡± it denied. In that case, he was a lot more willing to give it up. But. ¡°Anything else?¡± he asked. ¡°It is deeply connected to the concept of bleeding.¡± Freddy was about to ask whether that was the same thing as bloodshed but knew that the spirit probably wouldn¡¯t have differentiated between them if it was. ¡°Okay,¡± he nodded. ¡°How valuable is it?¡± The bloody skeleton cocked its head at him. ¡°I do not know.¡± ¡°Figures,¡± he said. ¡°Well then, what do you think? Should I keep it?¡± ¡°Master doesn¡¯t wield daggers in combat, but I believe that weapon can still be useful.¡± ¡°How?¡± he asked. ¡°It causes wounds to bleed. The more blood it spills, the more blood Master can use with Blood Sacrifice. And that object holds a truly phenomenal blood aura.¡± If the concept of Bloodshed itself said so, he would believe it. He opened his eyes. The golden-haired man before him was staring daggers at him, and he matched the gaze as he pondered how to phrase his next offer. A couple of seconds later, he opened his mouth, ¡°Here¡¯s a deal for you,¡± he started. ¡°I¡¯m short on cash now, but I snatched a few things from one of my boss¡¯ safes before leaving.¡± That made everyone in the room frown. ¡°The motherfucker deserved it, okay?¡± he rushed to defend himself. ¡°Either way, I got some hot goods on me. Consumables. But I have no idea what some of it even is. Given where I found it, though, I know it must be worth good money.¡± That eased their mood a bit. While the man didn¡¯t seem to like the idea of such a backstab, he was a bit more lenient as he learned that he could benefit from it. ¡°So, let me ask you,¡± he said as he squinted. ¡°Do you have any experts around?¡± ¡°Yeah, I got a guy,¡± Spike confirmed. ¡°Bring him here.¡± Then, with a flick of his finger, he brought out a cigarette and a lighter. Lighting them, he inhaled deeply and blew the smoke out. ¡°I¡¯ll bring the items out one by one. You will turn your back while I hand them to the evaluator. Then, he¡¯ll say what it is out loud. You can either accept the offer or refuse. ¡°If you accept the offer, you get the item, and I get the papers. If you say no, I might increase the offer. I¡¯m not gonna tell you how many things I have, though. If I run out, the deal is off, so don¡¯t get greedy.¡± The man grinned wryly at that. ¡°Deal.¡± Chapter 45 - Something That Money Can’t Buy The meeting room was around twice as big as a middle-class living room. The gray couch with the coffee table was on one end, and a large meeting table was on the other. In the far corner was a window facing a tree that partly covered the neighboring plot of land, where a large, red mansion resided. On the table, there were several cups of coffee. Some were empty, and others had long run cold. The doors opened, and the servant lady brought several fresh, steaming cups. Freddy nearly thanked the woman but restrained himself, deciding that doing so would be out of character. He lit another cigarette. This was almost the last one. He pressed it to his lips and pulled in hard, filling his lungs to the brim. The hot, burning sensation was comforting, and his nerves instantly relaxed. The semi-bodyguards he had come here with were standing to the side, watching the table. The golden-haired Spike stood a bit further away with his back turned to everyone else. And right in front of Freddy sat a man. He was pretty tall; his appearance was youthful, but he gave off an aged aura. His clothing and demeanor felt like they came from a different time. The man¡¯s cheeks were a bit sunken but not unhealthily; his skin was pale, but it was a natural hue; his forehead was wide, his chin pronounced, his black, short hair was parted down the middle, and his sharp green eyes seemed like they could pierce through any disguise in the world. ¡°Nice to meet you, Mr. Slave,¡± the man greeted Freddy. ¡°My name is August. I will be appraising the goods you present for the arrangement between you and Mr. Spike,¡± he spoke succinctly in a well-practiced, polite, and respectful tone. The reason why Freddy wanted Spike to face the other direction was simple¡ªhe had no idea how well-versed the man was in matters of consumable items. While August seemed like a decent enough person, looks and demeanor could be deceiving. If Spike saw the goods being presented and recognized them as valuable, August could downplay their function. To minimize the possibility of this happening, the negotiations would proceed as such: First, he would bring the items out one at a time, after which they would be evaluated. Then, August would describe them. He wasn¡¯t allowed to name the items. He was only allowed to explain what they did and how many doses there were. Finally, after the evaluation, he could offer the items to Spike or take them back. He had added a rule, however¡ªif he noticed that, at any point, August intentionally tried to mislead him on the item¡¯s value, he would immediately cut the deal and walk out. While he could have requested that the man also state the monetary value of the items, there was no point in doing that. Because even if he did, how would he evaluate that price''s legitimacy? The man could undershoot it as much as he wanted, but in the end, the two parties¡¯ knowledge of the value of such items was the only thing that mattered. A price could only serve to misguide¡ªnot inform him. Luckily, from his extensive lessons in foraging, he was familiar with the prices different classes of items went for. He was far from an expert, but he wasn¡¯t oblivious, either. Finally taking the last breath of smoke left in the cigarette, he extinguished the still-burning butt in the ashtray and made eye contact with August. Then, he opened his eyes comically wide, stuck his tongue out, spread his nostrils with his fingers, and made other goofy faces and expressions. August was bemused¡ªbut Spike made no sign that he noticed anything. Good. He probably didn¡¯t have a perception talent that allowed him to see behind his back or something of the sort. With that out of the way, he sank his consciousness into the ring on his finger. While he had no idea which items were the most valuable, he still tried to pick the stuff his intuition told him was the least costly. There were nine items in total, and he made his first pick. With a quiet pop, a plastic box filled with numerous round, green pills appeared in his hand. August politely received the box, extracted one of the pills, and then took a long, hard look at it. He pulled out a magnifying glass and ran it over it, then he smelled it, taking a deep breath. After he was done, he placed it in the box and handed the container back. As soon as Freddy received the item, August started his description, ¡°A potent medicine with a temporary perception-enhancing effect. Repeated usage can permanently increase sensory acuity, but there is a strong possibility of negative consequences to health, which get exponentially more likely with prolonged consumption. Most notably, they cause near-guaranteed impotence, increase the risk of heart failure, and can result in kidney problems. There are a total of a hundred and twenty-three doses.¡± Freddy thought about it. This was pretty valuable. The side effects were drastic, and that definitely knocked their value down. Still, with so many pills, this surely added up to a lot of money. ¡°I¡¯m not gonna offer this item,¡± he said, putting it back into the storage ring. The reason why was simple¡ªhe wanted to use them himself. The side effects were no demerit to him due to his talent, and the effect was definitely worth it. Then, he pulled out the next item. It was a small, white cloth bag with dirt-colored, powdery chunks of substance within. All of it put together could maybe fill an average-sized hand. August raised an eyebrow when he saw what was inside the bag. He closed it right back up and handed it back, meaning he already knew what it was from a glance. ¡°The next item,¡± he started, ¡°is a blood elixir with the properties of a steroid. A single dose is enough to kill an adult mortal man, and it is guaranteed to destroy the homeostasis of one¡¯s body. Its primary use is for raising beasts. There are thirty doses in total.¡± ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m gonna take that back,¡± he said. Whether it was worth using, he had no idea, but he knew that it wasn¡¯t particularly valuable. The next item was up. It was a flaky, purple substance stored in a brown silken bag. August grabbed a tiny bit, sniffed it, observed it, then put it back and lightly licked the tip of his finger. ¡°Poison,¡± he said. ¡°Extremely potent poison,¡± his words slurred, and he had to pull a potion out of his personal storage ring and drink a sip. ¡°There are probably two hundred or more doses of it here.¡± Spike chuckled a bit. Indeed. Even he was wondering what the fuck kind of crazy bastard Janhalar was to be carrying stuff like this around. ¡°I¡¯ll offer this item,¡± Freddy said, pushing the bag forward. Spike pondered it for a while. ¡°I¡¯ll take that, but that isn¡¯t enough.¡± ¡°You sure about that?¡± Freddy called the bluff. ¡°This might be the last item I have.¡± ¡°If so, you don¡¯t have enough value to trade.¡± A long pause settled between the two of them, and then Freddy snorted. ¡°Hmph.¡± He pulled the next item out. It was a cream stored in a round container. August seemed very impressed by it. ¡°This is a supreme-quality healing item applied to the skin''s surface. There is enough to cover the total skin surface of an average adult male around one and a half times.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll offer this as well,¡± he said unhesitantly. He had no basically no use for it. If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. ¡°Accepted, but not enough,¡± Spike said. ¡°Oh, come on, dude,¡± he protested, shaking his head. ¡°Don¡¯t get greedy. This is supreme-quality we¡¯re talking about. I know for a fact that this has to be worth a fortune.¡± ¡°A fortune?¡± Spike asked with a snicker. ¡°It¡¯s a skin product, Slave. It¡¯s probably the most worthless supreme-quality piece of medicine in existence. Stop stalling and just go on.¡± ¡°It¡¯s still worth a fuck ton of money. I¡¯m not a goddamn idiot. Downplay the value of another item and I¡¯m out.¡± Spike remained silent for a long second. ¡°Whatever. It still isn¡¯t enough.¡± The man raised the document file and waved it around. ¡°I don¡¯t have to downplay the value of what you¡¯re offering to know how desperately you need this. So go on, Slave, raise the offer.¡± Silence again. After a few long breaths, Freddy clicked his tongue as he pulled out the next item. Sealed in a bag of synthetic material were thin roots of sorts. There was only a tiny amount of this substance. August seemed delighted, almost as if this had triggered some form of fond memory for him. ¡°Ah, indeed, this is a highly potent medicine used to calm nerves and reduce anxiety. There are five doses here.¡± Freddy frowned at that. That seemed ordinary and mundane, but as the evaluator spotted his frown, he shook his finger. ¡°Do not be mistaken, Mr. Slave. This is a precious item. Many in power use it to function through stressful periods. But there is, unfortunately, little of it left.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll be real with you, pal,¡± Spike butted in. ¡°I already know what that is. That¡¯s milky pink alia root. You use it to make tea. I could take that, I drink that shit all the time, but it¡¯s not gonna make a difference. Five doses is like thirty grand.¡± ¡°Right then,¡± Freddy said. ¡°I¡¯ll take it back. I¡¯m just gonna drink it myself.¡± Then, it was time for the following item. He extracted another small bag. The material felt incredibly fine to the touch, and he knew that he was entering serious-value territory. August adopted a severe expression as he reached for it. As he cracked the bag open, he sharply inhaled and looked at Freddy with a stricken expression. His hand shook slightly as he handed the item back. ¡°That¡­¡± he started hesitantly. ¡°It is an incredibly powerful medicine. Consuming it can put one in a special meditative state to make¡­ manifesting the next star easier.¡± As soon as the man finished his appraisal, he instantly grabbed the two items off the table and put all three back into the storage ring. Before he could turn around, the bodyguards were blocking the door, and Spike was rushing at him. He quickly kicked the table up and pushed it forward, but a mighty gust of wind blew it aside. He spotted the blonde man swinging a shortsword at him. Wind whirled around his body, twirling his fur coat and blowing his hair back. Freddy nearly got struck by the blow, but he used his bare hand to block it, allowing the sword to stab right through it, and then swung a Flowing Strike at the man. Spike was an air-affinity arch, and with a small burst of wind, his head rapidly moved out of the way of the attack. Unfortunately for him, the man failed to notice that Freddy had already impaled his hand down to the handle and gripped the man¡¯s fist with a steel clasp¡ªa move that seemed to be becoming a signature of his. He pulled the man¡¯s arm back, and Spike couldn¡¯t dodge as Freddy swung his leg at the man¡¯s gut. The attack landed, even timing the Flowing Strike flawlessly, but¡­ it was as if he¡¯d slammed a cushion. A thick layer of air protected the man, and without the extra weight from Abyssal Depths, most of the impact was absorbed. The blonde man was knocked back, and his weapon was wrestled away. Freddy made his way to the corner of the room, eyeing the windows, but suddenly, a metallic barrier slammed shut, closing both it and barricading the doors. Spike and his men were already surrounding him. During his time as a forager, the single most expensive herb in the caverns was the Starfire Mirror Rose. Its effect? It could be turned into an elixir that made manifesting the next star easier. In fact, this plant was valued so highly that the staff offered a total forgiveness of debt if it was located¡ªregardless of how significant the debt was. It made sense, too. Growing a star could be slow, but even if it crawled at a snail¡¯s pace, it was still mostly a matter of time and perseverance. Manifesting the next star, however¡­ That was trickier. The second star was relatively easy, but from then onward, numerous individuals spent practically their entire lives unable to make progress. An item that could make that easier? Forget about buying it with mere money¡ªits sale was the equivalent of granting a major political favor. Freddy pulled the sword out of his injured hand and eyed Spike angrily, but there was some understanding beneath his furious gaze. In a world where the number of stars in one¡¯s soul practically put them in an entirely different class, anything that could make progress easier was priceless. Judging by what his senses told him, this man was on the second star¡ªand likely stuck at the peak. So that was why, without hesitation, he pulled out the bag of precious elixir and the lighter. ¡°Take a single fucking step closer, and this baby is going up in flames,¡± he threatened. ¡°Be reasonable, Slave,¡± Spike said. ¡°You¡¯re not leaving this place alive if you burn that.¡± At that, he chuckled. Then, he started cackling like a lunatic. There was no fakeness or acting to his laughter. After all, he truly found it funny. How many times would he find himself in a scenario like this? Giving the bag up was out of the question. It wasn¡¯t a matter of getting away¡ªhis pride wouldn¡¯t let him give it up. Between getting bullied out of something rightfully his and just outright dying, he¡¯d choose the latter. No more of that shit. So, he suddenly placed the bag back into the ring and replaced it with another one. Instantly, the bodyguards stepped back, and August paled as he ran to the other corner. It didn¡¯t take long for Spike to catch on. ¡°Oh, dear¡­¡± he whispered. ¡°Yup,¡± he said, holding the bag with nearly two hundred doses of extremely potent poison powder. ¡°I might not be able to escape with my life, but I can ensure you motherfuckers go down with me.¡± Spike, however, merely chuckled at that. ¡°I have the air affinity. Not a single speck of that will make it to me even if you scatter it through the room.¡± ¡°Oh, I don¡¯t think so,¡± he said with a dangerous glint in his eye. ¡°I have a way to keep you right where you fucking are¡ªand I know for a fact you can¡¯t avoid it.¡± That made the blonde man frown. There was no way to verify what exactly he was talking about. If he had a talent that allowed him to restrain Spike or, even more likely, an item he stole from his ''previous boss¡¯, he could very well deliver on his promise of mutual destruction. Clicking his tongue and scratching the back of his head, Spike groaned. ¡°Fine,¡± he surrendered. ¡°Sorry for doing that.¡± ¡°Even if you licked my crack clean, I wouldn¡¯t forgive you,¡± Freddy said. ¡°Now, please, get the fuck out of my way so I can¡ª¡± ¡°Wait, slow down,¡± Spike urged. ¡°Don¡¯t be so hasty.¡± ¡°Let me guess,¡± he said with a sardonic grin. ¡°You want to buy the ascension elixir off me?¡± ¡°Slave, my guy,¡± Spike said as he picked up the documents off the table. ¡°If you leave without these papers, you¡¯re a dead man walking.¡± He couldn¡¯t refute that. From their perspective, given that he had the elixir, it probably looked like he¡¯d robbed someone extremely rich and powerful. Which, to be fair, was true. If he left without those papers, and his story wasn¡¯t total bullshit, he would indeed be well and truly fucked. But luckily, that scenario was wholly made up. ¡°I¡¯ll take my chances,¡± he said. ¡°August,¡± Spike called. ¡°How many doses were there?¡± ¡°A¡­ Around fifteen, I believe,¡± the man replied. ¡°What!?¡± the man spat. ¡°God fucking damn, Slave, who the hell did you rob!?¡± ¡°That¡¯s none of your business.¡± ¡°It¡¯s entirely my business,¡± Spike said as a vile grin spread on his face. ¡°If I spread the rumor¡­ well¡­ it won¡¯t take long for the owner to come after you. In that case, I might even get a cut as a reward.¡± ¡°Try it,¡± he said. True, even though his story was made up, if Spike spread the rumor, he¡¯d be in hot water either way. But he was ready to go quite the distance to ensure his safety. Even if he had to live in the woods for years or mutilate himself again, he¡¯d do it until he made it far enough to get out of danger. Given the frown on his face, Spike could clearly sense the determination in those words. He clicked his tongue. ¡°You¡¯re a crazy bastard, you know that?¡± he said, sighing. ¡°Ok. I get it. I¡¯ll give you an offer.¡± ¡°Didn¡¯t you hear me?¡± Freddy said. ¡°You think money can¡ª¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t say anything about money, doofus,¡± the man said as he pulled a small object out of his storage ring. It was a palm-sized platinum card. Freddy thought that he recognized the object from somewhere. ¡°This is a platinum membership card for the Tower of York,¡± the golden-haired man explained. Freddy¡¯s eyes instantly widened. ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± Spike said. ¡°I understand that the elixir in your possession isn¡¯t something money can buy. But you have a lot. Even if you use all of them on yourself, you¡¯re not gonna need fifteen doses.¡± ¡°And you want to trade for it?¡± Spike licked his lips. ¡°I can settle for half.¡± ¡°And why do you think I want that card?¡± ¡°Because this, too¡­¡± Spike said, waving the small card, ¡°is also something that money can¡¯t buy." Chapter 46 - Cappuccino, Frappuccino, Macchiato, Latte, and Espresso, Please! The world of archhumans was an elusive, mystical place for most mortals. Information was sparse, and the circulated rumors were often grossly exaggerated, if not intentionally misleading. However, some subjects were too well-known to easily fall victim to misinformation. For example, the vast majority knew that archs had talents and affinities, almost all knew that their power was measured in stars, and everyone knew about the existence of the interspace. The whats, whys, and hows of the interspace were still mostly unknown, even two hundred years later. This was especially so for passage realms known as Anomalies. Temporal phenomena, like being stuck in a perpetual loop where the time inside reset every so often, fourth-dimensional aspects, like simultaneous existence in several different instances, and, in many cases, a touch of intelligent design. These were present in most anomalous realms. Some speculated the existence of gods or higher beings¡ªmany even prayed to them, following dubious religious orders, while others suggested that the Interspace itself might be sapient. Neither presumption was a stretch. After all, ether constructs were capable of sentience, so who was to say that the interspace wasn¡¯t just a ginormous, overwhelmingly powerful sentient ether construct or governed by beings who were the equivalent of that? Anomalies, as such, were common knowledge. And more specifically, the Eleven Great Anomalies were known well enough that most mortals at least had a vague idea of what they were. Among these, the Tower of York, located smack-dab in the middle of what used to be ¡®New York¡¯ on Old Earth¡ªNova York after the Rift¡ªwas among those Anomalies, and it was the only one located in The American Empire. Well, unless Faralethal had been declared a Great Anomaly by that point. Freddy stood in the middle of the meeting room, surrounded by bodyguards and facing Spike. One of his hands bled. The other held enough poison powder to kill everyone in the room ten times over. As the golden-haired man swung the platinum card around, with every swing, Freddy felt its visage tickling something in the back of his mind. He had spent much time in front of a BC due to his work, so he likely saw that at one point. Either due to the low volume or someone interrupting his viewing, he didn¡¯t remember exactly what it was. He just knew that it was precious. ¡°Indeed,¡± Spike said, admiring the small rectangle in his grasp. ¡°I got this baby long ago when they were a lot easier to attain. Empress Kaiya has stopped giving them out entirely, but she still holds on to the promise behind them.¡± This was the part where he had to be cautious. He really wanted to ask what the fuck that promise was, but he knew that asking would be a mistake. Given how Spike acted as if he should know what this was, giving away his ignorance would let the man make up whatever he wanted. But he did know one thing. There were five ranks of these cards. Bronze, silver, gold, platinum, and black. So he asked, ¡°That¡¯s the second best one, right?¡± ¡°Yup,¡± Spike confirmed. ¡°Twenty percent bonus during the auction,¡± he conveniently added. Freddy¡¯s eyes shot wide open. It finally clicked into place. He did know what that was. Tower of York had a total of a hundred and eighty-six slots per day, split between five categories, one for every star. One-star had a hundred slots, two-star fifty, three-star twenty-five, four-star had ten, and five-star had only one. Each day, numerous factions fought in the auction to get a slot in the tower. Having a twenty percent bonus for the auction was no damn joke. Even at the bottom of the list, the price easily went into millions. It was no surprise, either. The tower had a hundred floors; the higher one reached, the greater the rewards they could claim. Seeing that object, Freddy gulped. Then, he simply stated, ¡°Fuck no, I don¡¯t want that shit.¡± Spike wasn¡¯t lying when he said that that card was something money couldn¡¯t buy. To large factions who fought in those auctions on a daily basis, this little thing could save¡ªand earn¡ªan absurd amount of money in the long run. Hell, to countless factions, this object could mean the difference between being unable to consistently participate and finally being able to afford it. So, basically, having this was the equivalent of having a massive target on one¡¯s back. Which was probably why Spike wanted to get rid of it. ¡°Well, I¡¯m not letting you refuse,¡± Spike blatantly said. ¡°Fuck no,¡± he refused again. ¡°That shit will get me killed.¡± ¡°And that¡¯s exactly why I¡¯m not letting you leave,¡± Spike said. ¡°Go ahead, bitch, kill us both if that¡¯s what you want," he said teasingly, grinning maniacally as he sang the words. "Throw that fucking powder bag into the ceiling, but I¡¯m not letting you leave this place knowing I have this in my possession.¡± The bodyguards and August paled slightly at that. Nobody said anything, but it seemed they knew that if he didn¡¯t accept the deal, their lives would most likely be forfeited as well. ¡°Why go so far?¡± he couldn¡¯t help but ask. ¡°It¡¯s simple, really,¡± Spike said, smiling slightly. ¡°Having this in my possession is a liability, but I can¡¯t use it either. I¡¯m not cut out for delving. And I¡¯m not big enough of a bigshot to sell it without getting disappeared by someone. On the other hand¡­¡± he said while licking his lips, ¡°that elixir you got is exactly what I need.¡± Freddy laughed at that, ¡°Cowardly, don¡¯t you think?¡± ¡°Honestly? Yeah,¡± the man confirmed with a cheeky chuckle. ¡°But you¡¯re not at any real risk if you take this. Go far away enough and don¡¯t introduce yourself as Liam Cuttingsworth until you change the name, and you can¡¯t be tracked down,¡± he suggested. ¡°Also, don¡¯t forget, if you give me the elixir, you have dirt on me, too.¡± He snorted. ¡°That¡¯s different. I¡¯m looking to become a nobody for a while. I won¡¯t have the rep needed for my word to have any value.¡± ¡°True enough,¡± Spike acknowledged. ¡°So we both walk out of here with minimal risk of getting hunted down. I get what I need, and you get¡­¡± he eyed the card. ¡°Well, you get a solid chance to try yourself at the tower. I don¡¯t know how good you are at fighting, but I think it¡¯s worth a shot.¡± He scoffed at that. Frankly, that wasn¡¯t a terrible deal. It was far from what he needed at that moment, but he could certainly use it down the line. That platinum card was much like the prime vestige he had tucked away in the corner of Janhalar¡¯s storage ring¡ªtoo valuable to sell without dire consequences. There was a crucial difference, however. This¡­ This he could use himself. And it was true that he had no use for fifteen doses of the elixir. Honestly, he didn¡¯t know whether he¡¯d need any. With his talent and special abilities, it was likely that he could sustain his growth without requiring such a crutch. And, from what he knew, that card was definitely worth more than seven doses of the elixir. After mulling over it, he looked Spike dead in the eye and asked, ¡°How do I know that the card isn¡¯t fake?¡± *** Freddy and Spike stood outside in the middle of the yard. The two men approached each other cautiously. Freddy took out a small bag holding seven doses of elixir. Spike took out the platinum card and the documents. When they stepped right before one another, they each handed their items with their right hand and took the others with their left. As soon as the trade was finished, Freddy hopped back with Hydraulic Flex and left the yard. Nobody chased after him, and Spike merely waved as he returned to his mansion. While he had felt Spike do it, he tested the card again, just to be sure. As he imbued his essence into it, it flashed with ether script. The shifting, white characters morphed, and looking at them made him feel infinitely small. Every sign radiated the full power of a five-star archhuman¡ªin this case, Empress Kaiya¡¯s signature, the undeniable proof that this card was real. The plastic folder held all the documentation Spike had promised, including the ID. He looked around the opulent district and quickly hid the items in the storage ring. Nobody was around¡ªin general, wealthy archhumans rarely walked around the communities they lived in, for whatever reason. He walked for a while and reached the gates, where he was allowed to leave without any problems. Then, as soon as he stepped out into the wilderness¡ª He ran. *** A few days later, he made it out of the forest. Gone were his trashy tattoos. He had burned the skin off and healed it back. His hair was slightly longer, too, and his clothes were quite dirty, even though he kept washing them with Create Water. He bought a new set of clothes in town¡ªa simple, black, long-sleeved T-shirt and blue jeans. He hyped himself up, and then he located the correct government office. Before stepping inside, he bought a water bottle at a nearby store. Then, he took one dose of the milky pink alia root and mixed it in, hoping the water didn¡¯t need to be hot for the effect to kick in. The concoction immediately eased his nerves. Not as much as he expected, which was probably due to the improper brewing method, but enough. With a calm expression, he headed into the office and registered his, or rather, Liam¡¯s ¡®ascension¡¯ to the second star. The workers were surprisingly unsuspicious about his sudden change in appearance. Thankfully, the man in the photo was a bit chubby, so the difference could be plausibly half-attributed to weight loss. They did ask him a few customary questions, but he hadn¡¯t spent the last few days studying the documents for nothing. He aced the probing, and after a few hours of waiting, he got the updated ID, now, with his face on it. The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Sighing a sigh of relief unlike any he had sighed before, he walked out into the streets. It felt as if a massive burden had been lifted off his shoulders. While he was still relatively broke, with only around three and a half thousand dollars in his pocket, having to find a job was not as pressing as he felt it should be, really. Things like having a place to live and money to eat just weren¡¯t a priority to him. Sure, when he was used to comfortable living and a regular food source, it felt like he could never do without it. But he had just spent the last few days sleeping in the woods and eating goddamn mystery mushrooms, some of which turned out to be poisonous. And he felt perfectly fine. Hell, it was even an upgrade compared to his life in the caves! Or the horrible clinic. Needless to say, he had grown considerably less spoiled in the last year. But he had no plans to continue living like an animal. It was time to step back into society. After a brief walk around the town, he found a rather large cafe near the center. The music from within was something he didn¡¯t recognize. Most of the decor was subdued reds and grays, with half the cafe being on a slightly elevated platform. The ceiling was tall. There, lanterns hung low but were turned off as plenty of lighting made it through the large windows facing the street. The people sat around comfortably. Young girls sipped curious teas, rowdy teenagers sat on couches in the back, loudly talking about stuff or chilling, and older folk populated much of the less comfortable seating in the middle of the room. The thing that grabbed his attention was the unique design and the large crowd, but other than that, he had no reason to step inside. But just as he was about to walk past it¡­ His legs froze. The only times he¡¯d ever been in a cafe were either a really long time ago, back when his adopted parents took him, or when his coworkers goaded him into joining them, which happened so rarely, he could count all the times it happened on both hands. Other than that, he simply had no habit of going. To him, it felt like a needless expense. True, it wasn¡¯t too expensive, but he had to pinch every penny until his fingers bled. Or¡­ well, he used to have to do that. Shifting his shoulders a bit and looking around, he carefully turned and stepped into the cafe. Because why not? He was in no rush to go anywhere. Walking forward, he found a small section in the back and picked the more comfortable-looking chair among the few empty tables. There, he sat down. Moments later, a waiter approached. ¡°Hi, what would you like to order?¡± the tall, brown-haired man asked him. He paused and thought about it. ¡°I¡¯ll¡­ Uhm¡­ Can I just check the menu first?¡± ¡°Sure thing,¡± the man said with a smile as he turned around to serve another guest. After checking the menu, Freddy felt dazed. Whenever he sat at a cafe, he usually ordered the cheapest option. Either a simple espresso shot or, like¡­ water. However, This time, his eyes slowly drifted to the pricier options. He had no fucking clue what the difference between a latte, a cappuccino, a frappuccino, and a macchiato was, but he knew one thing. He¡­ well¡­ He wanted to find out. So, when the waiter arrived, Freddy made his order. ¡°I¡¯ll have a latte, a big one, like the big size.¡± The waiter frowned. ¡°You mean a venti?¡± ¡°Yeah, a¡­ that, and uh¡ª¡± he looked at the menu again, ¡°¡ªI¡¯ll also have a minty cappuccino.¡± ¡°Minty?¡± ¡°The uh, the thing you said?¡± ¡°Oh, a venti!¡± the waiter laughed awkwardly. ¡°You mean instead of the latte?¡± ¡°No, no, with,¡± Freddy corrected. The waiter''s eyes flicked to the empty seat beside Freddy, and he likely presumed that another person would be coming. ¡°Yeah, and uh, I¡¯ll also have a venti frappuccino,¡± he added. There were only two chairs, and the man seemed confused at the triple order. ¡°Is uh¡­¡± he hesitated. ¡°Is that all?¡± ¡°No,¡± Freddy said. ¡°I¡¯ll also have a venti macchiato. And, you know what, fuck it, give me an espresso as well.¡± The waiter was eyeing him weirdly. ¡°Let me just confirm¡­ You are ordering five items?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± he confirmed. ¡°We don¡¯t allow dragging chairs over,¡± the waiter warned. ¡°So if you¡¯re having company, please sit at a table that can seat enough¡ª¡± ¡°Oh, no, hahahaha,¡± he interrupted, laughing, ¡°this is all for me.¡± The waiter stared blankly. ¡°Alright then, uh¡­ Would you mind paying the bill upfront?¡± ¡°Sure,¡± Freddy confirmed. ¡°No problem. Actually, while you¡¯re at it, can I also have a bottle of whiskey?¡± ¡°A¡­ whole bottle, sir?¡± ¡°Yeah. I¡¯ll also have a large bottle of orange juice.¡± ¡°We don¡¯t offer those.¡± ¡°Ah, okay, then just¡­¡± his voice trailed off as he glanced at the menu. ¡°Just give me like five of the small ones.¡± At this point, the waiter was beginning to sound amused. ¡°You know what, sure thing, your order is coming right up. Will that be all?¡± He thought about it for a long moment, licking his lips. ¡°That will be¡­ all¡­ yeah¡­ for now.¡± The man chuckled at that. He went back to the bar and forwarded Freddy¡¯s offer. The woman working at the bar looked amused, and the waiter pointed at Freddy. They waved to him with cheerful smiles, and he waved right back. Minutes later, his order was on his table. A table of teenagers beside him noticed the pile of drinks. ¡°Yo, look at that guy!¡± one of them pointed out with a joyful cackle. ¡°Motherfucker ordered the whole menu.¡± ¡°Goddamn!¡± He couldn¡¯t help but laugh at that. Then, well, he went to town. After tasting one drink after another and noting the differences, nothing was left to do but finish them. The cackling around him at first got louder. They were shocked that he was actually drinking all of that. But then, a bit later, the laughter started to die down. Because he was actually drinking all of that. More than¡­ well¡­ a mortal human could tolerate. That meant only one thing. And mortals knew better than to mock archhumans for any reason. They swiftly vacated the shop after they realized who they had been laughing at. Down the drinks went, and his mood skyrocketed with every gulp. Sure, his stomach hurt like hell. And his heart was beating out of his chest. But he felt so liberated. He had the freedom, no, the power, to do something like this. This was everything he¡¯d dreamed about. This was what he had been toiling for for years, the dream he had been tirelessly striding towards. After finishing every drink on the table, he walked out. His entire body was shaking, and he was twitching as if his clothes were full of fire ants. An old woman walked by him, and he turned to her, screaming, ¡°Fuck yeah, bitch!¡± and almost gave the poor lady a heart attack. Then, he turned to face the street and continued screaming like a lunatic as he ran forward¡ªfeeling more free than he¡¯d ever felt in his life. *** The patriarch of the Kraven clan was no stranger to prolonged disappearances. While he was a leader, he was a warrior first and foremost, and it was the foundation his personal strength created that their clan built their power on. But he was still a leader. While the elders had full power to act in his absence, allowing him to roam freely if needed, he made it a rule to never be gone for longer than a month. If a month ever passed, and the patriarch still hadn¡¯t returned, he had told them that it would only happen in one of two scenarios¡ªeither he was in deep trouble¡­ Or he was dead. In either case, when the month of absence passed, they began their search for him. Those who had consumed the blood of the patriarch, under the influence of Janhalar¡¯s talent, could sense the faint traces of his presence, although they were miserably weak after a whole month had passed. Still, with the large search party, they scoured the surroundings of Pittersville. Eventually, they discovered the buried passage in the dumpyard. In the desert biome the passage took them to, there were more traces of the patriarch. They followed them. They went through a graveyard, a massive jungle, a desolate wasteland, and a small forest, following the faint traces of his presence as they carried them onward. The passage realms they traveled through were numerous, and the elders couldn¡¯t help but wonder precisely what the patriarch was chasing after so deep in the interspace. Then, after a long week of searching, they discovered the realm where the trail went cold. A C-grade passage realm holding a small, dead ocean greeted them. The whole realm stank of death and rot. There was a massive corpse of what looked like a gigantic turtle-leviathan that had an entire island as its shell. After scouring the bottom of the whole ocean, they found a single passage that took them deeper into another oceanic environment. There were no traces of the patriarch other than the intense presence of his blood they sensed. And there was a lot of his blood here. Far too much. The rot made the search difficult, and the ocean was filled to the brim with incredibly aggressive and powerful carnivorous fish. Soon, they had an idea of what had happened here. Judging by the extensive destruction, the patriarch had fought the massive monster. And then, he¡­ They wouldn¡¯t jump to any conclusions. But at that point, they had failed to discover any more tracks. There were four passages in the C-grade realm. The one they had entered through, the one on the bottom of the ocean, another one hidden in a small pond, its destination some sort of underground cave environment, and a fourth, hidden all the way at the back of the forest¡ªa passage that took to a sprawling C-grade realm of floating islands, a sea of thundering mist and darkness below. Three false suns shone down on them, and the thick mist roiled, spewing large masses of thunder clouds above in wide columns¡ªone of the dense flows of mist brushed over an island, caressing it with its duality of gentle moisture and intense lightning. Flying creatures akin to wyverns soared through the skies. Golden and green forests covered the masses of land, shimmering with a healthy, vibrant glow. There was little for them in that passage. They weren¡¯t there to explore. One of the men who was with them nodded his head. He also wore red robes and had lines over his face, but his disposition was clearly not that of a warrior. He was escorted to where the destruction was the greatest, where he used his talent. In his eyes, the environment around him morphed from the sickly forest into pure, white sand. There were, however, black spots and trails. Wherever the sand had been disturbed by a sentient being in the last two weeks, the pristine sands were blackened. His eyes widened as he spotted two pairs of footsteps. They were similar in size, and the footwear that left these tracks seemed to be proper equipment. People¡­? Perhaps people who had been with the patriarch? But there was something strange. The tracks went into the sea, diving to the bottom. Then, they dragged something out and carried it into the forest. While he wanted to track the trails, his eyes were beginning to dry up. He was reaching his limit, so he canceled his talent. ¡°Over there,¡± he said, pointing in the direction of the tracks. As the elders discovered the footsteps, following them through mundane tracking became much easier. They followed it, eventually reaching a small cave they had failed to spot during their prior scouting. And in that cave¡­ The elders gasped. There was a corpse. It lay on the ground, its flesh rotting and mangled. But they all recognized it. At a glance, they knew who those torn robes belonged to. The chest had been gouged out. That was where the Pool of Blood tempering technique was most concentrated. The heart lay to the side, empty, drained of all its substance. Fury descended upon them, and the tracker forcefully reactivated his talent. They followed the trail again. It went to the realm with the floating islands. They didn¡¯t know how the patriarch had died. It was almost impossible to tell, given that it seemed to be well over two weeks ago and given how much rot and destruction permeated this ungodly realm. But they presumed he had died fighting that leviathan. His storage ring, the precious object holding certain valuables that the Kraven clan couldn¡¯t afford to lose, was gone, too. And as they stared at the roiling sea of mist and heard the thunder, they gazed into the distance, eyes scouring the land¡­ Searching for the thieves who had taken it. Chapter 47 - Fresh Beginnings The Rift had changed much about how reality worked. Those changes had made one of the greatest inventions and most commonly used pieces of old technology utterly worthless. What had once been called an automobile, or, colloquially, a car, simply no longer worked. How it was even possible for such fundamental aspects of reality to change without thoroughly destroying the fabric of the universe was still a mystery to that day. There were numerous theories, though. Given that computers, and perhaps more notably, old weapons, no longer worked, some speculated that whoever was the creator of the interspace, if such a being existed, deliberately tweaked reality to ensure that newly integrated species didn¡¯t attain any undue advantages. If humanity still had access to the horrible weapons of mass destruction they once had, they would be akin to an invasive species being let loose into the interspace. Despite even reality itself working against them, humans were a special kind of stubborn. Indeed, even with it being torn out of their grasp, as time passed, more and more of the old was being recreated anew. Freddy pondered this as he boarded the bus. He was at a station in Imperta, starting his journey to Nova York. The bus was a gray vehicle that appeared nearly precisely the same as the vehicles of the old he had seen in a local museum. All except for the wheels. While those of old were designed to be small and elegant, those on the bus before him were gigantic. Spanning over two meters in diameter, they were polished smooth, so much so that he could see his reflection within as he moved in the line of people. Eventually, he stepped inside, leaving the humbuzz of the streets behind as he boarded the vehicle. It was cramped, and people rushed to take the best spots. He slowly made his journey toward the back. On his way there, he spotted numerous empty seats. And he took none of them. This was his first time on a bus, and finding a place to sit was surprisingly challenging. He walked past a cute girl who was sitting alone with an open seat beside her. The thought of sitting beside her never even crossed his mind as her sharp glare made it evident that she had no desire to sit next to him. There was a moment of temptation where he wanted to sit there just to spite her, but spending a week next to a stranger who wasn''t comfortable being next to you would get old fast. A similar thing happened with an older woman, and he walked past a stinky old man that he himself didn¡¯t want to sit next to. He glanced at the back of the bus, where he spotted a door. For a moment, he thought that might be the entrance to a VIP compartment or the toilet, but as it opened, a¡­ stewardess walked out. Not only that, but he could also smell food. Huh. A kitchen? On a bus? The woman was carrying drinks, pushing past him as he continued his trek. This was one fancy bus. Eventually, as he reached the back of the bus, he spotted a completely empty seat. As he approached, however, he realized that the spot wasn¡¯t entirely unoccupied. There was a massive suitcase on it. He looked around, spotting nobody who rushed to declare it their own. Then, without any hesitation, he picked it up and put it in the middle of the row. ¡°Hey!¡± the deep voice of a man called. Freddy turned to face the bulky figure sitting on the seat behind the one he was trying to occupy. ¡°That¡¯s my suitcase!¡± the man declared. ¡°Good for you,¡± he replied. But the man grabbed the suitcase again and threw it back on the seat. Just as he was about to remove it again, the man yelled, ¡°Don¡¯t you dare touch it, punk! They ran out of storage, and I had to buy a second ticket to carry the case with me!¡± ¡°Fair enough,¡± he said, grabbing the case again. ¡°But how about put it here instead?¡± he said as he pushed it on the seat beside the man, which was entirely empty. "There you go. That¡¯s two tickets, no?" he asked sarcastically. Ignoring the man¡¯s protests, he sat down. The man got up and put his suitcase on the seat next to him ¡°I dare you to move it,¡± the annoying prick said. He could tell exactly where this was going. Either he backed down, or things would escalate. The wise thing to do would be to walk away. Trouble was unwelcome. He could cool this guy down easily, but that would be troublesome if the authorities got involved. On the other hand, he really didn¡¯t want to be the one who backed down. For a brief moment, he caught a few troubled glances coming his way, and a thought crossed his mind. He subdued the smirk threatening to quirk up on his lip as he opened his mouth and screamed. ¡°Help! This maniac is attacking me!¡± ¡°You motherfucker!¡± the man spluttered incredulously. ¡°You better shut the fuck up or¡ª¡± ¡°Help!¡± he kept yelling. ¡°Please, help me!¡± he screamed with such conviction that the entire bus was getting on their feet and turning in their direction. And, of course, what they saw was the bulky man making threatening gestures at poor old Freddy. Minutes later, the man was out on the streets, his seven suitcases beside him. He cheerfully waved at the fuming brute and started his journey in a smug, self-satisfied silence. *** There was no immediate overt destruction when the earth was first integrated into the interspace. No great beasts came pouring out and wrecking the landscape. In reality, there were very few passages in the beginning, and most of them went to relatively safe realms. But there was no need for outside influence. The civility of old had been founded on the luxuries provided by technology. As soon as the comfort was taken away, so did the civility vanish. In a matter of days, roving gangs of raiders were looting stores and breaking into houses. Early manifestations of primes started happening, and numerous people acquired magical superpowers overnight. Guns no longer work, they thought. I can bring ten men to their knees with my bare fists, was a thought countless ambitious individuals had. So they used that power, marking the start of a world-spanning civil war with casualties that put even ancient Chinese conflicts to shame. It took a long time for the population to recover from the turbulent period, but once it did, it ballooned. In no small part, the massive increase in available real estate and resources was to thank for this. Sure, the interspace was a great source of both, but things were dangerous there, and that limited the possible size of settlements. It also made life harsh for those who weren¡¯t archhumans. What truly made the population boom was something else entirely¡ªthe changes that the Earth itself had gone through. While, geographically speaking, the overall layout of the continents was almost the same, the planet''s total surface area was over ten times greater than before the Rift. Yet, strangely enough, the gravity didn¡¯t change. It was consistent throughout the entire interspace, which baffled the scholars dealing with the subject. As the bus went from one stop to another, slowly inching out of Imperta, thankfully, Freddy was left alone in his seat. He lamented not having Magic Before Ether with him. That was his favorite book, and he really wanted the comfort of having it in his hands yet again. He was tired. A bone-deep fatigue had settled in his body, and it refused to go away. It wasn¡¯t a physical exhaustion, either. He was healthy, and he had slept enough. No, his fatigue was a psychological one. He had finally reached safety after so long. His instincts demanded that it was time to rest. The massive buildings of Imperta were left behind as the bus finally escaped into the wilderness. It had been driving at a sedate pace, as he presumed buses usually did. Then, once it hit the open road, it sped up. A lot. He let out an embarrassing yelp of surprise as the bus kept accelerating far above what he expected it to. The trees to the side of the road became a blur, and a sharp turn appeared, but the bus kept its speed up, turning in a gut-churning move that left him holding on for dear life. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. Through whatever ethertech bullshit, the vehicle had managed to keep its wheels clamped firmly on the road. As he got used to it, however, the anxiety swiftly turned to a childish excitement that cast the tired fog away. He knew the world was a massive place, but he hadn¡¯t realized just how far Nova York was. The bus trip would last for over a week. Given how fast they were going, that suddenly made the sense of scale sink in. The most fascinating part was that he was relatively close to Nova York. Just how far away was the rest of the world? He had to be honest. When the ride started, he felt pretty depressed. Pittersville was close, and he couldn¡¯t risk going there, but still, even with that fact, leaving it behind was¡­ well, it was too easy. After twenty-one years of living there, he had built so little for himself that he could simply go away without leaving anything of consequence behind. Sure, there was Mark, who he would like to contact one day again, but that was it. No family, no friends, no lovers. No career, no property, no¡­ Nothing. The bus eventually drove out of the forest. Outside, vast verdant plains of wild pastures appeared, grass stretching to every horizon. The soft clouds tickled the cyan gradient of the heavens, and the silhouettes of distant mountains scattered the far ends of what he could see. The sight left him breathless. It was as if his heart was being gently held up by hopeful, kind, ethereal hands. If¡­ If he did have something to leave behind¡­ What would he have wanted it to be? He wondered. What did he want to build at the place where he would go? Who did he want to become? He examined his desires and pondered on the next step in his life. If he was being honest, he wasn¡¯t the family type. Even though his parents¡¯ absence had left an aching hole in his heart, he never truly cared much for family or relatives. Getting a wife and settling down just wasn¡¯t something he wanted to do. He wanted to make some friends. He wanted to get filthy fucking rich. Have adventures, make a name for himself, get strong, strong enough that no Madame or Janhalar could drag him by the nose and dictate his life for him. And he wanted to have fun. His mind flashed back to that night when Madame forced him to attend that party. Gritting his teeth, he lightly slammed his head against the seat. ¡°Fuck, man¡­¡± he whispered under his breath. The feeling of having a girl on each side, loud music filling his ears, alcohol flowing down his throat, and just that feeling of importance. Shit. That was good. He wanted more of that. Not even the fact that he had been kidnapped during the party was enough to ruin his memory of it. The trip continued. Eventually, the sun set and the night arrived. He slept through it, only to wake up to violent rain and thunder. The gloomy, oppressive feeling invaded his bones again. It did so every time it rained. But this time, it felt weaker. Perhaps it was the bus¡¯ AC, but it might have just been that he had changed. He became less soft. The food served on the bus was no luxury cuisine, but it was plentiful. For breakfast, he had fried eggs and rice; for lunch, it was mashed potato and stew; and for dinner, he had plain chicken and rather depressed-looking veggies, showing tell-tale signs of having been frozen for a long time. The road took him down many plains, through massive forests, and up into sky-scraping mountains. There, he saw the collection of massive floating islands he had heard about once and witnessed the waterfall that flowed out of a passage high in the sky. The passage itself was above the clouds, so it looked as if the heavens themselves were crying a river. The giant kelpen falcons, with their striking greens and blues, soared the skies, casting their predatory gaze down upon the land in search of prey. One flew directly over the bus, and he felt his nuts climb back into his body from the scare that gave him. Those things were even bigger from up close; the wing span enveloped the whole bus in its shadow. Each day that passed, he witnessed more fascinating sights: desolate ruins from long-abandoned cities, streams of floating rocks ascending into the sky, and rivers that spanned the horizon in both width and length. They passed by the active volcano on Mt. Ussusurus during the night, an awe-inspiring mountain that reached mind-bogglingly high into the air. The fire raging within and the lava flowing down its sides lit up the night sky in its searing hues, and the flowing magma that cooled solidified into massive fiery avalanches that sparked down the mountainside. He could see the faint shapes of the buildings of the Leffen clan lining the sides of the titanic sight, the home of famed fire-affinity archhumans. Each sight left him with an aching desire to come closer, see the peaks, dive to the bottoms, and put his damn hand into the lava. He wanted to ride on a giant falcon¡¯s back and swing from one floating island to another. Just as he felt that he could ride like this forever, the immense outline of a city with a gray-tinted haze hanging above it appeared, the man-made settlement kissing both ends of where New Earth met the sky. Nova York. In another six hours, they would arrive at their destination. *** Mark strode down the stone hallway, anxiety filling his every step. Brown, runic patterns drawn in dried blood were scattered all along the walls to his side, and the metallic tang was deeply unpleasant. Every so often, a Kraven clansman would walk by him. Most treated his existence with the same indifference they treated empty air, but some raised an eyebrow at his presence. Eventually, he reached the end of the hallway. As he did, he gulped. A few minutes ago, he was invited to the patriarch¡¯s quarters. This was his first time meeting the Kraven patriarch, and he could feel sweat dripping down his back. Steeling himself, he approached the massive stone door with the drawing of a poshly dressed man on it and lightly knocked. The door crawled open slowly, screeching all the while. Given how smoothly and quickly other doors operated in this building, he knew this was by design. Still, it did its job, adding to the drama of the whole thing and heightening his anxiety. As the doors reached the height of his eyes, he spotted a figure dressed in red robes sitting at the large desk. A mere moment later, he saw the face, too, but as he did, he frowned. ¡°Nahar?¡± he asked his direct superior. Instead of who he had expected to see, the young master, or rather, Janhalar¡¯s son, a crimson-haired man he regularly worked with, was the one who greeted him. His snarky attitude and playful nature were nowhere to be seen, however, and even the sunglasses he wore practically everywhere were gone. Mark shivered under the direct gaze of the man¡¯s blood-red eyes. Whatever was happening, it was serious. ¡°Sit down,¡± Nahar commanded. ¡°Yes¡­ Sir,¡± Mark complied as he strode forward. The office was precisely what one would expect. Cold, dry, and dark. The desk was the only thing made from wood, and even that was a deathly pale material that burned with a sinister gloom. The moment he sat down on the surprisingly comfortable stone chair, the door behind him slammed shut with a loud bang. He winced. They sat there silently, and Mark could feel the quiet but seething disturbance within Nahar. ¡°I¡¯ll be direct,¡± Nahar said, glaring at him, ¡°What you¡¯re about to hear isn¡¯t public news and hopefully won¡¯t be for a while,¡± he declared, sharpening his gaze. ¡°My father is dead.¡± Mark¡¯s eyes shot open. "What?¡± Nahar nodded. ¡°Yeah,¡± he clicked his tongue and pinched his brows. ¡°I always knew my pops was an airhead, but this¡­¡± he said with a sigh. ¡°This really sucks.¡± He gaped. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re¡ª¡± ¡°Yup,¡± the man confirmed with a nod. ¡°I¡¯m the new patriarch.¡± ¡°But you¡¯re¡ª¡± he started, but¡ª ¡°Yes, I¡¯m a three-star arch,¡± Nahar confirmed. ¡°Hell, I¡¯m not even thirty yet.¡± He sighed again. ¡°Frankly, I was hoping to never become the patriarch. Technically, I wasn¡¯t supposed to. My father hadn¡¯t been grooming me to become one,¡± he said, smiling bitterly. ¡°But at the moment, there is nobody more qualified. I invited you here to offer you a promotion. Well, you keep the same job, but you know what that means.¡± ¡°That¡¯s,¡± he started but hesitated. ¡°Is there nobody more qualified?¡± ¡°There are many old farts in this clan that could replace you if you refuse, but I wouldn¡¯t be a fan of that,¡± he admitted plainly. ¡°All of them are just power-hungry bastards looking to improve their standing in the clan.¡± A storm of emotions was brewing in Mark¡¯s heart. This was big news. Terrible and life-changing, the exact type of news he never wanted to hear. Nahar, as usual, could read right through him and noticed his concerns immediately. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m gonna be honest with you; my offer is far from a dream promotion at a time like this,¡± he said while getting out of his chair to walk around. ¡°Without a four-star, our influence will drop rapidly, and tough times will be waiting ahead. ¡°The Empress luckily offers two years of protection to any clan that loses their head like this, but that doesn¡¯t change the fact that we¡¯ll have to give up a lot of power. By the time these two years are up¡­ the Kraven clan will be a pale shadow of what it is now.¡± Rather than say anything, Mark turned his gaze to the ground. Sweat trickled down his sideburns, and he could feel his pulse in the back of his head. Why now? Why again!? ¡°Will my¡­?¡± he started, afraid to ask the question. ¡°If you stay by my side, your sister will still have a place in the academy, don¡¯t worry,¡± the young master eased his fears. That answered his question, but the sigh of relief was still stuck halfway up his throat. How good of a thing was that, really? Working to keep things together in an establishment that was falling apart was no easy task. And as a mere two-star, his safety was far from assured as long as he held a position of any importance. This wasn¡¯t a choice he could make lightly. On the one hand, he would do anything for his family¡¯s safety and his sister¡¯s future. On the other hand¡­ dying wouldn¡¯t secure either of those two things. ¡°I want to give you time to think about it, but I can¡¯t afford that,¡± Nahar said bluntly. ¡°I know this is an awful thing to do to you, but you need to make your decision now. Things are already moving, and¡ª¡± Three loud knocks interrupted his words. Nahar¡¯s expression immediately became stormy. Indeed, anyone who dared appear unannounced at the patriarch¡¯s office was unwelcome for one reason or another. But Nahar had no choice but to let them in. The doors slid open slowly, revealing a figure wearing a pearly white suit. The stone rose above the man¡¯s chest and revealed his face. He was extremely attractive, with sharp, appealing features. Both his eyes and hair were a stark black, so dark they appeared to absorb all the light in the surroundings. The man strode into the room with the confidence of a king, and Nahar looked extremely pale. Mark recognized this person, but he couldn¡¯t quite tell from where. He knew he didn¡¯t know him personally, so he had perhaps¡ª His thoughts froze, and a giant lump appeared in his throat. He knew who this was. It was Harold Maskart. A man also known as Basilisk. Chapter 48 - Dubious Business Matters Mark watched the white-suited figure walk confidently into the room. Basilisk spread his arms and smiled joyously at them. ¡°Hey there, boys! How are you doing on this fine day?¡± he asked, and Mark rushed to get up. He tried giving his respects and fleeing immediately, but the man placed a firm hand on his shoulder. The touch sent shivers down his spine, but all the man did was lightly massage his shoulder as he laughed. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, young man!¡± he said. ¡°It¡¯s nothing important, you don¡¯t have to leave just because of ol¡¯ me! All I need,¡± he started, turning his predatory gaze at Nahar, ¡°is to talk to your boss a bit.¡± Mark wanted to refuse and leave anyway, but obedience was the wiser choice. For one reason or another, the man wanted him to stay, and he wouldn¡¯t risk angering him by being stubborn. Basilisk adopted a surprisingly convincing expression of sympathy as he walked over to Nahar. ¡°Dear boy, I am so sorry to hear of your father¡¯s passing,¡± he gave his condolences as he casually revealed that he knew something that should by no means be public information. ¡°As you might already know, Janny and I had some business dealings between us. Things must be so, so hard for you now, and I was hoping to lend you a hand in getting some of these¡­ ordeals settled before some vultures made things difficult.¡± Even Mark could smell the bullshit oozing out of those words. But at that moment, he couldn¡¯t afford to be anything more than a passive bystander. Basilisk finished giving his ¡®condolences¡¯ as he sat where Mark had been sitting a moment ago and gestured to Nahar to join him at the desk. Then, the two men started discussing the aforementioned business dealings between them. Basilisk first offered to buy off the remaining 40% of the mining expedition rights that Kraven still held on to. Nahar clearly wanted to refuse, but he seemed to be unable to. Then, the suited man continued offering to buy one thing after another. Mark knew some things about business, but he had no frame of reference for dealing with money on such a scale. The two men casually threw around billions of dollars, and, at least on the surface, Basilisk seemed to be helping the Kraven clan out by offering to buy off anything they couldn¡¯t afford to protect. Nahar smiled a lot. It was in his nature. Mark was familiar with this and many of the numerous shades of grin the man adopted. They were usually subtle. But at that moment, anyone could tell just how strained the tight stretch of his lips was. Eventually, the two men shook hands and got up. Harold whistled cheerfully as he turned around. Before he left, he put an arm on Mark¡¯s shoulder again, ¡°By the way, I believe I owe you a word of thanks. Had you not supplied the Kraven clan with a certain piece of information, I would have never been in a position to establish such a¡­ fruitful business relationship.¡± He cackled. Mark¡¯s expression darkened upon hearing that. ¡°So, to repay your favor, let me give you a piece of information in return,¡± Basilisk continued, his eyes narrowing into snake-like slits. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about that boy taking revenge on you.¡± He grinned. ¡°I believe he¡¯s already dead,¡± he declared casually, patting Mark on the shoulder as he headed out of the room. As soon as the stone door closed, Nahar swung his fist full force into the ghoulish wooden table. ¡°That son of a bitch¡ª!¡± he screamed as his punch landed and left a visible dent in the impressively tough wood. But Mark wasn¡¯t concerned about that. A storm brewed in his chest, and he glared at Nahar, shaking profusely. ¡°You¡­¡± he tried, doing his best to restrain his desire to scream. ¡°You said that¡­¡± ¡°Relax!¡± Nahar commanded. ¡°That motherfucker only said that to get you riled up,¡± he said with a sigh. ¡°I didn¡¯t lie to you. I only told you what my father told me¡ªFreddy Stern was interrogated and imprisoned for theft of Kraven property. Harold only said what he did to tear a rift between us and put me further out of balance in our negation. Don¡¯t fall into that trap.¡± Mark¡¯s chest deflated a bit, and his shoulders sagged. He swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded hesitantly. Internally, he was still resisting the urge to shiver, but at the very least, he believed that Nahar hadn¡¯t been dishonest with him. Mostly. But he had doubts. They stood there in silence for a while. He was unable to get the thoughts of Freddy out of his head. For a while already, he had been postponing asking about the man¡¯s whereabouts. He had annoyed Nahar enough with the matter, and the young master didn¡¯t have any answers since Janhalar refused to say anything. Now, the patriarch was dead. And his son must have had access to the information. So he asked, ¡°How bad is it¡­? Your situation, I mean.¡± Although he wanted to know about Freddy, he couldn¡¯t bring himself to ask. Not yet. But there was another thing on his mind, too. He worried that he would lose the favor he was promised. Nahar showed him a bitter, bleak smile. ¡°Bad. Really bad,¡± he said, chuckling lethargically. ¡°I estimate we will lose over two-thirds of our upper echelon.¡± He was left stunned by those words. How? As he was about to ask, Nahar answered, ¡°Loyalty is a fickle thing. Let me ask you, would you be here if I couldn¡¯t offer your sister a place in the new academy?¡± Hesitantly, he paused for a few moments. ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± Nahar calmed him. ¡°That¡¯s still on the table.¡± That made him release a breath he didn¡¯t know he had been holding in. Then, pondering the man¡¯s previous question, he decided to be honest. He shook his head. If that wasn¡¯t on the table, there was no way he would still be working here. From the very beginning, he had been strongly against allying himself with the Kraven, but it had been the only way to secure his sister¡¯s future, protect him from Madame¡¯s retaliation, and get his injured arm repaired. His arm was healed already, and he was established enough that Madame couldn¡¯t hurt him without consequences. His sister¡¯s education was the only reason for him to stay. ¡°The same thing goes for many elders,¡± Nahar continued, unperturbed by his answer. ¡°Loyalty and personal interest go hand in hand. They are all looking for power and a prosperous future and working hard to earn it.¡± Then, he shrugged. ¡°Money is good, but true wealth comes from rights and property. If being with the Kraven clan can¡¯t help them hold on to those rights, they¡¯ll take their share and leave. It happens all the time.¡± ¡°I see¡­¡± Mark confirmed. That made sense. True, the empress would indeed be protecting the Kraven clan, but such protection only stopped others from annihilating them. It was, in essence, a policy instated to prevent civil wars from breaking out. But she had no reason to help them hold on to power they had already lost. His distracted musings were interrupted as Nahar asked, ¡°Do you want to meet him?¡± After a moment of stunned silence, he realized who Nahar was talking about. He glanced away, sadness, grief, and regret flickering through his half-closed eyes. His family¡¯s safety, his sister¡¯s education, the healing for his injured arm¡­ he tried using these reasons to justify his actions, but none of it changed the facts. He had had the option to have his arm amputated. His family would have been poor for a while, but they could have managed to scrounge up the funds and recover from it eventually. His sister could have gone to a less prestigious academy. But instead of taking that path, he had backstabbed a friend. He had no true justification for what he¡¯d done. So he didn¡¯t know. Was he brave enough to face him again? Was he courageous enough to step before Freddy Stern and say, ¡®I¡¯m the reason why you were caught?¡¯ His boss¡¯ crimson eyes peered into his soul, peeling away the surface layers. They had spent many drunken nights together, and Nahar knew very well how guilty Mark felt for what he¡¯d done. Until then, he couldn¡¯t do much other than offer him numerous¡­ comforts. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. But now there was a choice to be made. He had the option to push things under the rug and leave Freddy to continue living in ignorance of what truly happened. But that wasn¡¯t the right thing to do. His gut churned, and the back of his throat felt watery as if he were about to throw up. There would be a price to pay. He owed that man more than he owed anyone he had ever met. And no matter how nicely he put it and how sorely he apologized, the relationship between them would be ruined forever. Pushing through the feeling, he decided. ¡°I want to see him.¡± Despite all that, he still resolved to do the right thing. Nahar nodded. The man must have had numerous things to do at that moment, but without hesitation, he put them all aside to indulge Mark¡¯s request. So they asked around and dug through papers. What they found wasn¡¯t¡­ quite what they expected to find. Freddy had indeed been held captive back at the Pittersville compound. But he, and all of the captives there had been¡­ sold. The discovery made Nahar frown deeply. And it made Mark feel nauseous. The two men returned to the patriarch¡¯s office, carrying the massive stack of papers related to the ordeal. And once the door closed and they were alone again, he couldn¡¯t stop himself from bursting. ¡°Slavery¡­?¡± he breathed out, struggling to believe it. He absent-mindedly sat in the chair, and Nahar stood on the other side of the room, back turned to him. Affinity discrimination was a common problem. Numerous people discriminated against certain affinities due to the tendency to associate those concepts with evil. This was deemed unacceptable because power had no moral values and all that. But people did. He already knew that Janhalar wasn¡¯t a good person. But neither was Madame. Nor was Basilisk. Those in power had a pattern of being willing to do what it took to get there, so he wasn¡¯t surprised to learn that many of them weren¡¯t particularly virtuous. This was another thing he had rationalized away. Sure, the leader might be a damn ghoul of a human being, but that didn¡¯t have to mean that the entire clan was like that. Now, as he realized there was more to the superficial eeriness and bloody walls, he couldn¡¯t stop all the disgust he had pushed down from bubbling up to the surface. ¡°Mark,¡± Nahar called, breaking him out of his internal musings. ¡°I need you to listen to me, okay?¡± As much as it disgusted him to be in such a situation, he was too deep in to throw self-righteous tantrums. Being there was in no small part his own fault. It would be stupid to run his mouth now. Nodding his head, he agreed to listen to Nahar¡¯s explanation. ¡°I¡­ I¡¯ll be honest. While I didn¡¯t know about this specifically, I was already familiar with my clan¡¯s¡­ tendencies.¡± ¡°Oh, really?¡± he let his disbelief slip before restraining himself. ¡°Sorry, I¡­¡± ¡°No, you¡¯re¡­ Well, you¡¯re not wrong. I¡¯m not thrilled to discover this, either.¡± He turned around to face him, scratching the back of his head. ¡°This isn¡¯t good news,¡± he said, eyeing the massive pile of papers, including a copy of the contracts he had just signed with Basilisk. ¡°If he is with the expedition¡­ we just lost the right to do anything about it.¡± With each moment, the hold despair had on his heart grew tighter. He felt as if he were falling into a bottomless pit. What had he done? This whole time, he believed Freddy would be set free eventually. He knew of the man¡¯s talent and that a few years in captivity weren¡¯t a big deal to him. With an infinite supply of supreme-quality healing, he was immortal. Age wasn¡¯t a problem to him. But this¡­ Basilisk¡¯s words suddenly echoed in his ears. Freddy¡­ was he really dead? The urge to puke finally proved to be too much, and he emptied his stomach on the floor. His breathing was ragged, his heart raged in his chest, and cold sweat covered him. Suddenly, a series of knocks came from the stone doors. Nahar intended to ignore them, but soon enough, they came again. They were louder this time. Suddenly, both men froze as they felt it. While Harold had concealed his presence, the person outside released it. It was another four-star archhuman. Nahar clenched his fists and reluctantly pressed the button to open the doors. They glided up slowly, and the crimson-haired man looked like he wanted to kick his late father for designing them to do that. And then, the entrance finally revealed who stood there. First, her green stilettos, then, her long, beige thigh-highs, her lime miniskirt, her exposed, pale stomach, the baggy, black, long-sleeved crop top, and finally, her cerulean hair fashioned into pigtails. ¡°Hey there, boys,¡± Madame Morleppe greeted them cheerfully. Both men instantly activated their defensive abilities and jumped to the other side of the room. This was it. They were going to die¡­ or so they thought. But Madame only rolled her eyes and scoffed. ¡°Really? I even tried to dress so I didn¡¯t look scary,¡± she declared while gesticulating her disappointment at their reaction. ¡°You two seriously have the wrong opinion of me.¡± They weren¡¯t convinced. While Basilisk managed to approach them alone, a crowd of anxious clan members warily stood behind her, blocking her path back out. Not that they could stop her if she wanted to simply go through them. ¡°Oh, please,¡± she said, seeing that they were still unconvinced. ¡°You should know that Kaiya will have me executed if I touch any of you. Now calm down and let us speak like adults.¡± Nahar looked like he wanted to run away, but nothing she had said or done so far showed she was looking for a fight. And she was right. If she dared to attack them, she would invite the empress¡¯ retaliation. Thus, they had no choice but to calm down and hear her out. The doors to the meeting room were closed after a servant cleaned up Mark¡¯s vomit, and, as per her request, he was to stay with them while they talked. ¡°First,¡± she started, looking at Mark, ¡°I just want to say that I hold no grudge against you. Your betrayal was due to my mistake. Had I been wiser, I would have made the decision to sponsor your recovery and sister¡¯s education. A lack of information misguided me, and I blundered. So, don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m not here to get revenge.¡± ¡°Then why are you here?¡± Nahar asked directly, his patience thin from dealing with Basilisk earlier. ¡°I want you to hand Freddy Stern over to me,¡± she declared bluntly. Both the men¡¯s eyes shot open at that. Nahar sighed. ¡°I¡¯m afraid I can¡¯t help you with that. He was sent to participate in a mining expedition, and we¡­ We have already lost the rights to it.¡± ¡°His information is in your records somewhere,¡± she stated. ¡°Dig it up and hand it over to me. I¡¯ll deal with the rest.¡± ¡°What do you¡ª¡± Mark started, but Nahar shot him a death glare that warned of consequences. Rather than listen to reason, he ignored the man and continued. ¡°What do you want from him?¡± ¡°Why should I tell you?¡± she asked pointedly, amusement playing in her eyes. ¡°You have no right to know,¡± she teased. He winced at that. ¡°I¡­¡± he tried, but he had no argument. All he could do was ball his fists up in frustration. She openly laughed at him. ¡°Oh, my, how amusing. What are you getting all righteous about?¡± she asked teasingly. ¡°You¡¯re the one who got him into this predicament, so how dare you act as if I¡¯m doing something wrong?¡± Again, he couldn¡¯t refute that. His sight was turning blurry, and the headache in the back of his head intensified. Meanwhile, Nahar sighed and started digging through the pile of papers already conveniently located on his desktop. Soon, they found what they were looking for, but it was yet again a surprise. Apparently, he was sent to Camp Violet¡ªa camp that had been destroyed. Mark¡¯s vision darkened further, and he felt the world spinning before his eyes. More and more, he felt that Basilisk hadn¡¯t been spouting nonsense. But something was unusual. Madame acted as if this wasn¡¯t out of her expectations. In fact, she acted as if she knew that he was still alive. ¡°Can you please give me a copy of all these records?¡± she asked politely. Nahar¡¯s eye twitched. That was an absurd request by all means. Even Mark knew she had no right to demand that, but the young master hesitated to deny her. Nahar put his elbows on the table and rested his nose on his crossed fingers. ¡°If you don¡¯t mind me asking, I would like to know what you wish to do with Mr. Stern. And before you say that you don¡¯t need to tell me, I would beg to differ. Coercing me into handing information like this over could count as an act of aggression against my clan.¡± She smiled at him. ¡°Since you asked so nicely,¡± she said sarcastically, allowing a nasal hint into her voice, ¡°I might as well tell you. I have him signed for an interview, and he hasn¡¯t done it yet.¡± Both the men stared at her blankly. Madame sighed, rolled her eyes, then, with a puffing sound, summoned a fancy cocktail that she took a massive gulp of and then returned to her storage device with a pop of air rushing to fill the vacuum. ¡°Christ almighty,¡± she muttered as she glanced between them. ¡°You people must stop forgetting that I am a journalist first, entertainer second, and everything else third!¡± ¡°No offense, Madame, but¡­¡± Nahar started. ¡°Hmmm¡­ Never mind,¡± he dropped the issue. Prying further would just needlessly anger her. She smiled in response, then touched her lip as she squinted at Nahar. ¡°But I suppose that taking this information for free wouldn¡¯t be very fair, would it?¡± she said, tapping her lips. ¡°You know, dear, I believe I have an offer for you¡­ if you wish to hear me out.¡± Chapter 49 - Live, Not Survive Sequela was an unavoidable reality for living organisms¡ªone could even call it a symptom of life. Tissue could regenerate. But damage always left a mark. Scarring, fragility, weakness, fatigue; these were only some of the consequences, but two were the most difficult to cope with. The first was the loss of function. And the second was pain. ¡°Ugh, fuck man, my back is killing me,¡± Freddy heard an older man complain. ¡°Yeah,¡± another concurred. ¡°My neck is so stiff I can barely turn my head.¡± ¡°At least you two can walk,¡± a woman added. ¡°My knee is locking up.¡± Many had become acquainted during the week-long bus ride. As the ride finally ended and people got up to leave, they shared their woes. Indeed, sitting for almost an entire week was one hell of an exhausting experience. They had occasionally stopped to let everyone stretch their legs, but that could only help so much. Or so Freddy observed from the sidelines. But he was fine. The sequela¡ªthe long-term health deterioration that others suffered from¡ªhad become a thing of the past for him. Not only that, but he was damn strong, even if he was pretty skinny at that moment. Also, Adaptive Water Body assisted quite a bit, even if he felt it was probably unnecessary. He waited for the others to leave and clear his path. There wasn¡¯t a need to wait long since he had no baggage, so he was free to leave as soon as he was out. As he walked out into the streets of Nova York, he was greeted by a rather ordinary sight. They were quite far from the city center. In fact, they were on the outskirts. The buildings, most of which didn¡¯t go over five stories tall, were plain and relatively old. At a few blocks both north and south, there were many newer buildings, those made as the city expanded, but the part he found himself in had stood there for a long time. The road was relatively narrow, but there was enough space for vehicles to pass each other. He took a deep breath. It smelled bad¡ªstale. Cities generally did. A lot of garbage was around, and the buildings limited air circulation. But he was surprised at the subtle difference he sensed. Something was missing, or at least lacking. The previous city he had lived in had a particular issue that most urban areas did. As many used drakes for transport, there had to be designated areas for those animals to take a crap. Some respected this, others didn¡¯t. Either way, it made the streets smell like shit. But that was absent here, surprisingly. Actually, he felt that there were too few drakes around. Too few? No, there were none at all. He was used to seeing many of them on the streets. In their stead, there were numerous self-propelled carriages. Maybe this was just a Nova York thing. He wouldn¡¯t complain either way. Without any guide, he simply picked a random direction and started walking. It was still early morning, so he had the whole day to settle himself. Naturally, it wasn¡¯t going to be easy. First, he was broke as all hell. The milky pink alia root in his storage ring could be sold for some pocket money, but he was slightly worried about the attention that would attract. It wasn¡¯t a big deal, nor a large sum, but it still made him feel uneasy. Everything in the storage ring on his finger was hot goods; if possible, he¡¯d prefer keeping all of it a secret. Perhaps he was being a little paranoid, but he couldn¡¯t judge himself for thinking that way. As it stood, he was down to seven-hundred dollars, which was quite problematic. That wasn¡¯t even enough for a rent down payment for a shitty, downtrodden shack, given where he was at. And he still had to eat. But there was one purchase he had to make before anything else. Walking into a nearby thrift shop, he bought some gloves. They were made of fake black leather and smelled weird, but they only cost him eighty cents, so he wouldn¡¯t complain. The two rings on his left hand weren¡¯t too unusual from a distance, but he wouldn¡¯t flaunt them to be extra safe. Next, he needed a place to stay, at least for a few nights. A short walk around the streets and a brief interrogation of a couple of residents later, he was directed towards a crappy hotel. It took him nearly half an hour to get there, and by the end, he walked into an even older and shittier part of town. Once he found the hotel, every damn cell in his body screamed that he should turn around. There was a giant ¡®HOTEL¡¯ sign right above the entrance. It was made of what had once been blue-painted plastic. Now, it was just plastic with most of the dye flaking off, and the E was a little damaged, making it almost look like ''HOTFL'' from a certain angle. Sighing, he stepped inside. The lobby was¡­ well, at least it was clean. Sort of. Once upon a time, the walls had been white, and ever since, they had aged into a soft beige where the paint hadn¡¯t fallen off. There was a closed wooden door to the right and a tight stairway that took upstairs to his left. There, he was greeted by a surprisingly beautiful girl sitting at the reception desk, which looked like it could fall apart at any second. ¡°Hey there! Welcome!¡± she greeted him in a somewhat deeper voice than he expected. She had dark hair that reached her shoulders and wore a simple black T-shirt. Her irises were a mundane brown, but they were framed by some of the prettiest eyes he had ever seen. After catching himself staring, he coughed and responded to her previous question. ¡°Yeah, uh, hi,¡± he paused as he fought to remember why he was here. ¡°I was wondering if I could get a room.¡± ¡°How long are you planning to stay?¡± she asked. He pondered, then asked, ¡°How much for a night?¡± ¡°Here you go,¡± she said, handing him a price list. The prices ranged from forty dollars on the low to ninety dollars on the high end. ¡°But!¡± she added with a raised finger. ¡°You can get a twenty percent discount if you stay for a week or longer!¡± That was pretty cheap. Exceptionally so. He had hoped to stay for no longer than three nights if possible. But if he went for the most affordable option and stayed for seven days¡­ he would only pay two-hundred and twenty-four dollars; not an unacceptable price. If he couldn¡¯t find a better place to stay by the end, he could probably afford another week. There was no food, but that wasn¡¯t a big issue for him. He had eaten literal slop before. And he knew his way around frugal cuisine. He¡¯d be fine. He paid the woman upfront and was taken to his room. They walked up the tight stairs, almost bumping into a man who smelled of smoke, beer, and sweat. The woman brought him to a door with the number ¡®130¡¯ on it and opened it. It was only then that he realized his mistake. He had failed to calculate it mentally. What kind of hotel could one stay at for less than 900 dollars a month? The answer, even by the standards of someone who had lived in a literal cave, was¡­ that it was terrible. Subhuman, even. He had always compared the size of his old apartment to a closet. He had had no fucking idea what he had been talking about. ¡°Here you go¡­¡± the woman said, her words petering out as even she couldn¡¯t muster the energy to hype the room up. If it qualified to be called that. A tight door opened into a, well, closet. There was a futon on the ground. That was all there was space for, yet that, too, barely fit. There was no window. A single shelf above his head was the only place he could put his things. It also smelled vaguely unpleasant, with hints of piss. The walls had been scribbled on by the absolute shittiest graffiti he had ever seen. Penis on penis on boob stickman. On even more penis. Random proclamations that someone was gay was the most intelligent writing he could decipher. But he had paid for it, and¡­ it was better than the streets, at least. There were also numerous locks and chains that clattered as the doors were opened, whose purpose was to secure the door from the inside quite tightly. For some reason, that did not inspire a feeling of safety. At all. With a sympathetic glance at the woman beside him, he asked, ¡°You must go through some shit, huh?¡± ¡°Yup,¡± she confirmed with a chuckle. ¡°Sometimes literally.¡± He laughed at that in turn. The woman handed him a rather bulky set of keys and pointedly warned him to ensure he never left anything of value in there if he could help it. Although there was almost no space left, he could at least keep money in the storage ring, so he would be fine. She also half-jokingly warned that someone might mistake his room for a toilet, so he should keep it locked at all costs. Brilliant. That explained the vague scent of urine, at least. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. After thanking the girl and obeying her advice to lock the doors, he left the hotel and stepped outside. ¡°Well then,¡± he muttered to himself. Never had he felt so motivated to find a goddamn job. *** Among one-stars, many could still be considered relatively common folk. Whether it was those who had retired due to injury, those who were still new to the whole thing, or those who had wasted the opportunities being an arch had provided them with, it wasn¡¯t uncommon to see such a sight. There people were sometimes referred to as ¡°Saturns¡±¡ªfailed stars. Among two-stars, however, very few could be said to be living everyday lives. For the time being, Freddy needed an ordinary wage to get on his feet before he could prepare to start delving, which was why he found himself quite surprised to discover that finding a job was almost impossible. There were two main problems. The first was the fact that he was a two-star arch. Yes, really. The reason why this was a problem was because nobody wanted to hire him for ordinary work. Most cited the fact that it was clear that he wouldn¡¯t stick around for long. And others claimed that they couldn¡¯t afford to pay him. And they were, unfortunately, correct. There were mandated minimum wages for archhumans. He quite literally couldn¡¯t earn less than ten thousand dollars a month because nobody was allowed to pay him that little money. This was where he encountered the second problem. Getting hired as a two-star arch was a pretty rigorous process. Any establishment employing two-stars required an in-depth evaluation of his knowledge, expertise, talent, affinities, and abilities. Fuck that, he thought, but it was a pointless endeavor anyway since such organizations were looking for non-combat talents. So, he gave up on ordinary work and decided to try his hand at joining a mercenary group. He eventually located a massive building that acted as a hub for independent mercenaries and gave it a shot. Everyone wanted to hire him there, no questions asked. This was to be expected. Unfortunately, they all demanded he sign for at least a year of work. If he wanted to negotiate better terms, everyone wanted him to display his fighting skills against one of their members and give them a detailed description of his talent and abilities. But he didn¡¯t want to do that. Too much risk of getting identified. There was, of course, the more permanent choice of joining a large organization, but he shelved that option for the time being. Too restrictive, and with his talent, he had considerably less use for such organizations than others might. Sighing deeply, he walked out, knowing he had only one real possibility left. He would have to delve into a passage independently. This was a huge problem. The usual method for going independent as an arch was simple, if labor-intensive and challenging. Most got a rather ordinary part-time job or something their affinity made easier and did that while training and gathering knowledge during their free time. There were numerous classes for those who could pay to take them, whether for martial arts, ability use, or any of the innumerable less exciting skills required to safely delve. After all, if one was on their own, other than just combat, they had to handle resource management, scouting, tracking, first aid, equipment maintenance; they had to know both the area they were delving into and the monsters that populated it, the secondary dangers present, and much more. Injury, loss of property, or, at worst, death was on the line. The more one knew and the better they were prepared, the lower the odds of making a critical mistake. As absurd as that might have seemed, the fact that he was a two-star was bad for his circumstances. After all, nobody expected people to get to their second star without getting their shit together first. Asking around, he discovered that, unfortunately, the closest passage open to independents was a three-hour walk away from where he was staying. He had already spent the whole damn day running around like a dumbass, and the sun was already setting. Sighing, he left the pursuit of work to tomorrow¡¯s Freddy while the Freddy of today went to get something to eat. Having waited in several lobbies today, he had pilfered numerous random shitty snacks and candies, but that could hardly be called proper sustenance. Well, what he got wasn¡¯t much of an upgrade, either. He bought two massive loaves of bread and ate them as he went. Hey, a two-dollar meal was a two-dollar meal; besides, he had 1% Lifesteal, so he probably didn¡¯t need to care too much about his diet. Wait, could his talent just¡­ spawn the nutrients he was lacking? It could undoubtedly create tissue from nothing, as he¡¯d verified by regrowing an entire body from just a head. Huh. An interesting thought, he decided, as he took the final bite of his second loaf. Soon after, he made it to the hotel, and his mood instantly dropped as he remembered where he would be sleeping that night. ¡°Welcome to the piss-shack,¡± he mused sarcastically as he stepped inside. What greeted him was the sight of a very drunk man leaning over the reception desk and getting quite close to the receptionist. He eyed the situation with a raised eyebrow. She handled the man quite well, actually. An icy attitude, pointed threats, and some fascinating manipulation skills had the man walking away back to his room. After the sleazy dude walked away, he gave the woman a short applause, which sounded rather damp due to the gloves on his hands, and shot her a cheeky smirk. ¡°Well done, miss. I couldn¡¯t have handled him any better myself.¡± She squinted at him and crossed her arms. ¡°Aren¡¯t you supposed to, like, help out in these situations? Hello!? Damsel in distress!?¡± she asked sarcastically. Approaching confidently, he looked down at the small woman. She was pretty attractive. He liked her. He was far from the most charismatic dude in the world, but he approached anyway, determined to test his luck. What was the worst thing that could happen? ¡°Well,¡± he said as he walked over and leaned against the counter. His mind rushed to think of anything charming to say, ¡°I¡¯m afraid of karma, you see. Wouldn¡¯t want someone to interrupt my attempt, now, would I?¡± She couldn¡¯t stop the small burst of laughter at that. Was that a success? Probably. He mentally high-fived himself and straightened his posture a bit. Shaking her head, she reached for some papers. ¡°You know, I¡¯ve been wondering ever since you walked in here¡­ Uh, why?¡± the receptionist asked with a frown. ¡°Oh?¡± he chirped inquisitively, raising an eyebrow. ¡°Not sure what you mean.¡± The receptionist rolled her brown eyes at that. ¡°Come on.¡± ¡°What?¡± he shrugged defensively, trying and failing to catch on. ¡°You know, if anyone walks in here looking even vaguely normal, the illusion is usually dispelled as soon as they open their mouth,¡± she informed him. ¡°I just can¡¯t figure out what the hell is wrong with you.¡± He snorted. ¡°Okay, wow. Uh¡­ where do I begin?¡± he pondered. ¡°How about that time I lived in the caves, surviving off nothing but mushrooms and grit?¡± he suggested jokingly. She snorted at that. ¡°Sure thing, pal. Start at the part where you discover fire while at it.¡± For some reason, he found himself swallowing rather heavily. ¡°Well,¡± he said leadingly, feeling a bit of trepidation in his chest. ¡°If you¡¯re done with work soon, I could perhaps take you¡­ out for drinks and share more.¡± It wasn¡¯t the most intelligent way to use his money, but he wasn¡¯t that broke. ¡°Uhm¡­ let me think about it¡­¡± she said, tapping her temple with her finger as she pretended to be considering it. ¡°How about¡­ no?¡± she rejected the offer. There, he found himself leaning against the counter, staring at a cute girl. A mere moment ago, while it had been waning slightly, he had felt pretty confident. Yet, all of a sudden¡­ ¡°Ah,¡± he thought out loud. ¡°I guess you¡¯re uh¡­¡± he scratched the back of his head, ¡°not done with work any time soon?¡± ¡°No, that¡¯s not it,¡± she said, putting the papers she had fetched into a different drawer. ¡°Then uhm¡­ What¡¯s the problem?¡± ¡°Sorry,¡± she said. ¡°But I¡¯m just not interested.¡± ¡°Oh¡­ Alright. Well, sorry for bothering you,¡± he apologized as he walked away, almost stumbling as he took the first step on the stairs. What the hell was happening? Okay, well, he got rejected, but that wasn¡¯t that big of a deal. For Christ¡¯s sake, he¡¯d gone through half a year of torture! So why was this hitting him so hard? There was a tightness deep in the back of his throat, and a faint pain pushed at the corners of his eyes. He felt a bit ill, and his heart rate was elevated. Wow, that really sucks, he decided, unsure of what to make of what he was feeling. As he finally approached his ¡®room¡¯ and settled himself, discovering that he was too tall to lie down and stretch his legs out, he stared at the almost entirely dark ceiling. The door wasn¡¯t fully sealed, so light still trickled in from the hallway, blinking briefly as someone walked through the hallway. For half a moment, he appreciated the light source, thinking it would help him find the bugs faster when they crawled on his body. Then he remembered that he wasn''t in the caverns anymore. Well, there might still be bugs here, but¡­ He sighed. "What''s the worst thing that can happen, my ass," he self-ridiculed. He felt rejected. It was such a normal thing to experience that it felt weird. After all that he¡¯d gone through, all the terror and fear and¡­ The tightness in the back of his throat intensified, and he found breathing difficult. Emotions became nothing but a blatant weakness for him. So he suppressed them. Shut them off in self-defense. But he was trying to reintegrate back into society, wasn¡¯t he? Nobody was chasing him now. The threat of death and indefinite captivity no longer hung above his neck like the blade of a guillotine. Perhaps it was still there somewhere, but it was far removed from the problems he faced at that moment. What hurt the most in that shitty little room wasn¡¯t the burning cut of blades shredding his skin or a hot rod pressing against his back. There was no severing of body parts, no patriarch standing above him like a devil, plans of how to make his agony worse playing behind his pale, ghoulish eyes. No. What hurt the most at that moment, as he repeatedly failed to make himself comfortable, was that he tried hitting on a cute girl and she wasn¡¯t interested. How pathetic. How ordinary. How relieving. Suddenly, two streaks of tears appeared, running down the sides of his head. The joy that he was okay, the relief that he was safe, flushed his mind, and he was powerless to stop it. What had plagued him the most, without him even realizing it, was the never-ending sorrow of having been broken¡ªshattered into miserable, unfeeling pieces, reduced to a base animal. He thought of the people he had killed. He thought of the people he had injured. Every single thing he had done on his path to making it out of his predicament had felt justified to him. Too justified. The image of the bodybuilder who assaulted him in the back alley interposed with the image of the drunk father who couldn¡¯t come to terms with his son¡¯s fate. On a surface level, in both cases, he had merely been protecting himself. But that wasn¡¯t really the case, was it? The danger to his life had become an all-too-convenient excuse, and with it, darkness had snuck into his heart¡ªthe willingness to do the unforgivable. Anything to survive. But now, he could live. And he was so frustrated and sad yet happy and excited to feel that, indeed¡­ It appeared that he was still capable of doing so. Chapter 50 - $299 Socks For as long as he could remember, Freddy hated walks. When he had no money, no time, no energy, friends, hobbies, or really any reason to leave his house, the only time he went for a walk was when he was forced to do so. His steps would always take him past attractions he was too poor to enjoy, and as the reward, all that waited for him were annoying chores and responsibilities. Needless to say, nothing about walking had ever been gratifying for him. Thus, he woke up frustrated. There was no shower in this hotel, only a sink where he could at least wash his armpits, and coupled with the fact that he had to walk past the receptionist, it simply felt like his day was off to a horrible start. And then, he stepped outside. The city of Nova York was a gigantic place. This wasn¡¯t just a coincidence, either. The density of ether was integral to archhumans, and there was much of it here, as could be seen by the numerous wisps flickering through the Netherecho as he took a look. This had many consequences, and among them was the fact that many passages were around. Naturally, most of them were private or had otherwise limited access, and the closest one he could enter with his qualifications was far away, which was why he had to walk so long. Every so often, he bitterly tore his gaze from something that seemed fun. It was just a habit of his. He had learned to reject and scorn anything interesting because hating it was better than pining for it when he knew he could never afford it. That was when he finally realized it. That was when he finally opened his eyes. There was a massive, fancy building in the distance to his left. He had no idea what it was. But if it was just a residential building, he suddenly felt like it wasn¡¯t some area he would never have access to. Maybe he¡¯d even live there eventually. Perhaps he would own a place somewhere even fancier. With a hungry gaze, he scouted. With each new sight, every new attraction he spotted, his steps quickened. As he saw a club, he thought of¡­ reserving a table. Buying bottles, treating friends. Dancing to the motherfucking music. There was a restaurant, and he could eat there. A cafe. He could sit there, sipping on coffee or whatever he pleased to his heart''s content. As he stepped into an even wealthier area, his eyes sharpened. There were some damn lovely carriages. He wanted one. Libraries, miscellaneous treasure shops, equipment stores, and so much more appeared before his eyes, and now it truly felt like it stood right before him. The shimmering glass outside, the well-illuminated interiors, the opulent people walking in and out. Finally, it all existed in the same world he was living in. Not long from that moment, he would be among those people. Throughout his walk, he felt good. There was no fatigue or pain in his legs. The miles vanished below him before he realized it, and he arrived at his destination. It was a large, well-fortified building with no windows. He wasn¡¯t allowed in without an ID proving that he was an archhuman, and as he showed it, he stepped into yet another world foreign to him. The first thing he noticed was that almost everyone in the room was armored, more or less. Numerous independent archs sat around the massive lobby, many in groups either chattering away about mundane topics or discussing delving strategies. The second thing that caught his eye was the advertisement. There were so many ads. For classes, instructors, insurance companies, equipment, and supply merchants, there were so many different products that he was dazed by how much his attention was being bounced around. The fact that all that contact information was so readily available was a pleasant surprise, but reality shot him a painful reminder. The contact information was in codes that could only be used through communication ethertech. The high he had been riding on his way there subsided rapidly. After all, dreams of wealth were one thing¡ªearning it was another. He took a deep breath and centered himself. He mentally checked his budget. He was at around four hundred and fifty dollars, a paltry sum that couldn¡¯t afford practically anything. Some of the ads flashed numbers like ¡®ONLY $999! SPECIAL PROMOTION FOR insert random reason¡¯ and then the product was like¡­ a shitty leather hat or whatever. That was the standard for prices he was dealing with. The thing about the world of archhumans was that nobody held anyone¡¯s hand. If he wanted to charge into the passage utterly ignorant and with nothing but the sweatpants covering his unwashed ass, most anyone would do was tell him that it wasn¡¯t a good idea. But nobody had the right to stop him if he wanted to do it anyway. It was his own responsibility to handle himself and stay alive. And it was his privilege to throw that caution to the wind. He didn¡¯t have enough money. And the first thing he needed was information. So, he rubbed his hands and anxiously blew air out his lips as he mentally prepared himself. It was time to beg strangers for help. Like a needle, yesterday¡¯s failure had popped his confidence bubble. The worst thing anyone here could do was refuse to share info. Yet, he had learned the hard way just how awkward and uncomfortable that refusal could be. He lightly slapped himself on the cheek. He wasn¡¯t here to pick up pretty girls. He was here to ensure he didn¡¯t die from something he should have been prepared to deal with. Archhumans from the second star onwards naturally emitted a sense of pressure. It wasn¡¯t easy to tell, though, and most had to focus to perceive it. But it was also possible to suppress this phenomenon and hide one¡¯s power from those weaker and, to an extent, from those at the same level. Two-stars could hide from one another with relative ease. At three stars, concealing one¡¯s presence against the senses of another three-star already required quite a bit of proficiency. And four-stars couldn¡¯t really hide from one another without a designated talent or extremely pricy equipment. Thankfully, he was dealing with two-stars at most here, who all publicly broadcasted their presence as if it were a badge of honor. If he was asking for help, he should ensure he looked like he needed it. There was the whole idea of going, ¡°Hey, I¡¯m a two-star big shot; help me out, and maybe you¡¯ll get something in return,¡± but he didn¡¯t feel that that was a wise choice. Namely becase he had nothing to actually offer. From a cursory glance, he estimated that two-stars comprised less than five percent of all the people present, making them a notable minority there. Every two-star arch he saw truly looked like one, with an air of experience and severity around them. The way they held themselves, the equipment they carried¡ªthose who made it to the second star didn¡¯t do so without getting their shit together first. And then there was him. A skinny pretty boy without a damn clue as to what the fuck he was doing. If anything, actively showcasing the fact that he was a two-star arch would just invite unwanted attention, and those who ¡®worked hard¡¯ for their power could possibly interpret his image as being that of a pampered rich boy who never had to labor to get to where he was. His scars were no longer there. He had no evidence that he had ever been in a fight. So, he closed his eyes and entered his ethercosm. There, the two three-colored stars, one much bigger than the other and surrounded by a red ring, swirled in their eternal orbit. They shone brightly, broadcasting their existence to the world like the sun shining on the earth from above. Focusing his authority over his soul, he flexed his will, and the light dimmed. Breathing out a small sigh at the exertion, he felt like the world around him was muted slightly. This was the downside of suppressing one¡¯s presence¡ªlosing some of the supernatural perception. He adjusted his posture a bit and felt as ready as ever. With a consuming glint, he scouted the lobby. The entire first floor was just a large open area. There were a few clerks along the wall on the other side of the room and a large door to the underground, where the passage was located; next to it were stairs that took to the second floor, where one could get their equipment fixed and injuries treated. Throughout this room, red sofas surrounded wooden coffee tables, with a few colorful chairs beside them. Many groups of people populated these, and he saw only two empty tables. His eyes traveled to the party closest to him. Three people were seated on a red sofa, the chairs occupied by heavy rucksacks holding their equipment. Judging by the faint sense of suppression he felt coming from them, they were undoubtedly two-stars. The first thing he thought when he analyzed them was that he almost regretted having a talent that removed injuries so efficiently. The entire group was heavily scarred, showing many signs of battle and experience. He had seen how others looked at him when he was the one walking around, looking like he¡¯d lost a fight against a sadistic blender-toaster duo, but seeing terrifying scars on others really put it into a different perspective. A tall, bulky man with a large nose and trimmed brown hair sat to the left, with an even taller but skinnier man beside him, whose hair was blonde and his mouth spread in a broad smile, revealing a line of bright teeth. Further to his right was a blonde woman, also quite tall, strikingly resembling the guy in the middle. The man on the left had a massive red mark all over the right side of his face, stretching into his hair, which was considerably less dense along the red area, showcasing that he had probably lost half his head at one point. The one in the middle had two ugly marks on both his cheeks, almost as if something had speared right through one and out the other, and the woman had a long scar over her left eye, the blue iris of which was a bit paler than its counterpart. All three had a bunch of other minor marks interspersed throughout their skin. These people clearly had experience. He would approach them first. The instant he took a single step in their direction, all three turned their eyes to him, immediately spotting his advance with the reaction time only razor-sharp instincts honed in danger permitted. That made him temporarily halt his steps before he regained his resolve and continued his approach. As he reached their table, the blonde man who sat in the middle was the first to call out, ¡°Hi there!¡± he greeted cheerfully. ¡°Do you have business with us?¡± ¡°Uh, yeah,¡± he said. ¡°I was just wondering if you know where I can find some information on the passage here.¡± Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡°New here?¡± the woman asked, eyeing his clothes. He wasn¡¯t wearing anything fancy. In fact, he still wore the purple dragon white hoodie he bought for his hoodlum disguise. Either way, he wasn¡¯t here to delve but to scout the situation and check things out. And he preferred that that detail was evident to others. ¡°Yeah,¡± he answered. ¡°I¡¯m new to town, just looking to get myself oriented.¡± ¡°Yeah, good idea,¡± the woman continued. ¡°If you want information, you should go to the clerks and request the guide. They give those away for free to those who register.¡± ¡°Oh, okay, thanks!¡± he said and almost turned to follow their advice. But the man to the left stopped him. ¡°Wait,¡± he called. ¡°You¡¯re a beginner, right?¡± Freddy nodded. ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°You should definitely read the guide, but if you have time, we could share some advice!¡± he offered. ¡°We¡¯ve been delving here for years.¡± ¡°Yeah!¡± the woman concurred. ¡°I¡¯d be happy to do that!¡± ¡°Fine by me,¡± the man in the middle agreed, too. That left him stumped. He hadn¡¯t expected to receive that much help, not for free. ¡°What do you want in return?¡± he asked cautiously. In response, the man in the middle, ¡°None of that talk,¡± he chastised. ¡°It¡¯s a few minutes for us, and you get to¡­¡± the man started, but he suddenly frowned. ¡°Wait, you¡¯re a two-star?¡± His eyes shot wide open. How did this man see right through him? A perception talent? His mind rushed to find any excuse, but the trio had already changed their demeanor considerably. ¡°Ah, sorry,¡± the blonde man apologized. ¡°I presumed you were a beginner, so I ran my mouth. No offense.¡± ¡°Yeah¡­¡± the woman started, but she didn¡¯t look quite as apologetic. ¡°I didn¡¯t notice it at all.¡± ¡°Me neither,¡± the man on the left said, glaring at him with a frown. ¡°Uh¡­¡± he tried but struggled to form any words. ¡°I uh¡­ Yeah, I¡¯m new here, so I¡­ I just¡­ You know, just for privacy''s sake.¡± ¡°Not cool, man,¡± the heavily-scarred man said with a shake of his head. ¡°Why are you pretending to be a beginner? There are plenty of information vendors; just cough up the money and buy the advanced guide.¡± ¡°No, he doesn¡¯t deserve that,¡± the blonde man rebuked his companion. ¡°He offered us repayment, so I don¡¯t think he¡¯s that type of person,¡± he said, then turned back to Freddy. ¡°I apologize for intruding on your privacy. My talent caught it, and I yapped before I thought. I¡¯m sure you have your reasons.¡± ¡°It¡¯s¡­ fine,¡± he offered tentatively, unsure whether to leave and try with someone else. But before he could decide, the blonde man continued, ¡°If you¡¯re looking for information, my offer still stands.¡± He stared at the man, feeling somewhat conflicted. On the one hand, perhaps taking the offer was an acceptable option. But on the other hand¡­ What if he offered to repay them anyway? That was an amicable, friendly thing to do, and it could perhaps segue into a mutually beneficial relationship. Or just a friendship. Either would be much help to him. But¡­ as he thought about it further, he decided against it. He had no money, and everything else in his dimension ring, which he didn¡¯t want to reveal anyway, was too expensive to give away. And besides, if a stranger offered mystery medicines, would anyone just take them and believe they were safe? No. The answer to that was a resounding no. Unless they were insane, that was. So, he sighed and sat down. ¡°I accept your offer, and¡­ thanks.¡± He felt a bit bad for not repaying them anyway, but he refrained from saying stuff like ¡°I can¡¯t currently do so.¡± The fewer lies he made, the lower the odds of them talking shit behind his back when he showed just how capable he was. It was frustrating, but no matter how irritated he felt, that was no excuse to do something stupid. No more of that. The three adventurers shared their experience delving into the passage for the next half an hour. The two beside the blonde man seemed slightly uncomfortable initially, but the atmosphere grew more relaxed as they kept talking. First, while the passage realm here wasn¡¯t an Anomaly, it was a hub. Which was to be expected. Every passage realm held at least three passages within, but they weren¡¯t always easily accessible. They could be like the one he saw on those floating rocks in that ocean realm. Or, they could be at the bottom of a large body of water, on a tall, sheer cliff, on a floating island, or even lay undiscovered, located somewhere inaccessible or difficult to find. Hell, there was a precedent for passages being too small for an adult to push through. There was also the fact that some passages led to insanely dangerous or inhospitable realms, and such portals were usually sealed. Thus, there was a differentiation. Passages that took to so-called ¡°blind realms¡±¡ªspaces without other easily accessible passages within¡ªwere called blind passages. While those that had other passages within were called step-passages, or, colloquially, hubs. This realm had seven others within, of which three were usable, and two were also step-passages. The difficulty of this realm was rated at D-, which basically meant that one needed to be either in a party of one-stars or a beginner two-star to enter at acceptable risk. They admitted to having already advanced to a more difficult realm but promised their experience wasn¡¯t outdated. For the most part, this realm only had a single monster species. It used to have more, but overhunting resulted in most of them being exterminated. The realm was coded as C-899923, an upper medium-sized C-class realm. For the most part, it was made up of heavily forested areas, but rocky parts with more sparse growth were scattered around, with harsh, sheer cliffs surrounding the outer perimeter. ¡°Now, the creatures¡­¡± the woman started. ¡°Hmm, how do I put it? They look sort of like as if a monkey and a sloth had a mole-faced kid that just entered their ¡®it¡¯s not just a phase, mom.¡¯¡± The two men chuckled at that, nodding in agreement, and Freddy raised an eyebrow at the colorful image. ¡°They are black-furred, vicious beasts,¡± she continued, ¡°who mostly dwell underground. They have a hierarchy sort of like ants or bees; nine out of ten are workers with spoony nails made for digging, while roughly one in ten makes up the sharp-clawed guards. They¡¯re as big as dogs, but the fighters are a bit bulkier. Still, even the workers can easily beat a man to death with their incredible strength and earth-affinity strikes. Don¡¯t get complacent.¡± He nodded. They shared some other stuff about the flora and geographical layout of the area. Apparently, the rocky parts got pretty extreme, which created a limited-visibility environment in some places. It was easy to get surrounded or even swarmed from above, and according to them, if their team leader didn¡¯t have his talent, they would have gotten screwed over many times. Well, they had gotten screwed over many times. They had lost people in the realm before. And all of them had narrowly skirted death at least once. Freddy didn¡¯t need any proof¡ªtheir scars were more than enough evidence. ¡°Be careful where you go,¡± the man in the middle warned him. ¡°Anywhere you can¡¯t see more than a hundred and eighty degrees of your surroundings should be treated as if it were a trap. You will get cornered. You will get surrounded. A stampede of them could appear on top of you way faster than you think. Always remain cautious.¡± After a few more bits of advice, they concluded their lecture. He nodded and shook their hands, the two parties separating with a few non-committal see-you-arounds and hope-we-meet-agains. With that out of the way, he walked over to the counter and registered. The process was straightforward; they just wrote down his personal ID number and name, noting him as a registered delver for this area. He would have preferred not using his ID, but it was unavoidable. Thankfully, establishments such as this one were quite tactful when it came to privacy. They based much of their business on trust. He was handed the guidebook, entirely free, and even a catalog of nearby stores and equipment providers. That was the first time he ever appreciated being given an advertisement. The list of stores was for later. Now, it was time to read. He made himself comfortable in one of the few free spaces he could sit alone and started chipping away at the extensive guide. Not much new information was discovered, and after finishing it, he scanned the catalog. On the very first page, he found $299 socks. ¡°What the fu¡ª¡± he exclaimed before restraining himself, remembering he was in a public place. The ads made it pretty clear already¡ªarch equipment was expensive. But socks? Fucking socks? Really? Although, as frustrating as it was, the sales pitch in the catalog was clear about why they were so costly. First, they were designed to be puncture, slashing, and tearing-resistant, ultra-comfortable, liquid-repellant, and resistant to both acid and fire and, on top of that, the cloth was interwoven with thread that blocked essence flow and prevented stuff like life-affinity abilities from pushing through the fabric. Given how much they did, their price was unsurprising. But this was just the minimum. While they indeed had all those functions, it was only technically the case. These were graded as appropriate for one-stars. The ones for two-stars started at over a thousand dollars. ¡°Okay then,¡± he whispered as he slammed the catalog shut. ¡°I guess I¡¯ll go ask more people for advice.¡± *** By the time he returned to the hotel, it was already nighttime. Actually, it was night by the time he started walking. The receptionist waved at him somewhat sarcastically, but he frankly couldn¡¯t be bothered to care. Once he was in his room, he breathed out heavily. What should he do? Strictly speaking, he didn¡¯t need two-star-grade underwear or most of the random fiddly doos or whatever. But he did need armor. He did need proper gear. And he needed experience. True, the difficulty rating of D- meant that a solo two-star should be able to delve there with acceptable risk, but while he did have two stars in his soul, he didn¡¯t really fall under the traditional definition of a two-star warrior. By this level of power, he should have had his shit together. That difficulty rating considered that he should have at least several years of experience and all the equipment he needed under his belt. But he didn¡¯t. So what should he do? Join a party? He didn¡¯t like that idea, not yet. He had too many secrets, too much that he wasn¡¯t comfortable showing to others. Selling anything in his ring was out of the question, too. Too much risk, too much unknown. The Kraven had lost their goddamn patriarch¡ªwho knew what all they were keeping an eye out for? Maybe even just having the ring on him was a risk he shouldn¡¯t be taking. The dimly lit, tiny room spun above him as his mind whirled. What was the risk of striking out into that passage by himself? As in, what were the odds of dying? One in ten? One in twenty? Throughout his investigation today, he had heard several stories of people getting surrounded, encountering a deviant monster, and just a lot of shit going wrong. And he knew damn well that if anything like that happened to him, he would be screwed. That night, he barely slept. The day after, he woke up late and felt terrible, still unable to get his mind off everything. Yet again, he traveled to the passage hub and asked others for advice and help. Many rejected him outright. It stung. His heart tightened every time he saw disapproving, uninterested expressions turning away from him, but he pushed through it each time and tried again. Eventually, two parties of one-stars shared their tales. Both had lost people. Both had encountered life-threatening scenarios, and even to that day, they had things go wrong on a semi-daily basis. He filled the rest of the time rereading the guide, and, yet again, he returned late, having spent the whole day trying to gather intel. Once more, he had a restless night and woke up feeling even worse than yesterday. ¡°Goddamn cities,¡± he muttered under his breath. ¡°Not enough plants to murder.¡± Maybe he''d feel better if he could use his talent a bit, but there was nothing to hit. Everything in the city was either dead or nonliving, save for the people and the few animals that passed by. Well, there were trees on some streets, but punching those would be the actions of a total lunatic. And violation of public property. He groaned in frustration as he dropped back down on the futon. Rather than leave the hotel, he pondered his options for most of that day. Perhaps he could start working on his blood affinity, but that wasn¡¯t a good idea. He had no knowledge of how to do anything related to blood abilities, and he knew from the stories that experimenting on his own could get really dangerous. Raising his finger, he focused, and without much effort required, his blood seeped through his pores and pooled on his index finger. No matter how hard he concentrated, he couldn¡¯t make it float. Doing so with water was one thing¡ªblood was extremely difficult to manipulate when not making contact with one¡¯s body. But. With a small burst of will, the tiny droplet of blood turned into a sharp needle. Or, well, at least it took the shape of one. Trying to pierce something with it instantly made it collapse, and¡­ He should probably stop there. That already cost him a few drops of blood. Without the Pool of Blood tempering technique, using the blood affinity was dangerous. It was easy to get carried away and lose more blood than one could afford, and a coma was the best-case scenario in such situations. But there was still¡­ the other affinity. With a slight exertion of will, he focused and appeared in his ethercosm, staring at the dark blue part of his stars. Chapter 51 - Clear Mind, Sound Decisions Standing in his ethercosm, Freddy stared at the dark blue part of his core, mesmerized. And afraid. There was a reason why he hadn¡¯t tested this affinity yet¡ªbecause it felt dangerous. And not in a good way. It gave him a sensation of both being unable to tear his eyes away from it and desperately wanting to look behind himself to ensure nothing was there. It was suffocating and anxiety-inducing, sort of like diving into the ocean and taking a look down into the darkness below. His ethercosm, the center of his soul, was safe¡­ but even that bit of common knowledge fell apart when facing the ominous affinity. He gathered himself. Floating through his ethercosm, he approached the shell that Leviathan was trapped within. The same deep blue color forged the runes that kept it contained, and, just like with Bloodshed, the cage was shaped nothing like any of his other ether shells. It growled at him as he approached, and he had to force himself to calm down. It was trapped with no way of escaping. Probably. Still, he knew that there wasn¡¯t much reason to panic. ¡°Leviathan,¡± he called. ¡°Do you¡­? Do you know what that deep blue affinity is?¡± ¡°No,¡± it said curtly, doing the bare minimum to answer his question. That made him pause. It didn¡¯t know? Wasn¡¯t this supposed to be its affinity? So, he asked, ¡°Isn''t that your affinity?¡± ¡°No. My affinity is to water,¡± it declared. ¡°My nature might have helped twist it, but it is your soul that formed that thing. Now get out of my sight!¡± it demanded. Twist it¡­ His mind flashed back to something Madame had told him once: ¡­ upon absorbing a unique, you will acquire the affinities it holds a connection to, and if you already have one of the affinities, it will evolve into a unique affinity. His eyes traveled to the discolored blue in his stars. So, that was a unique affinity? He left the ethercosm and breathed out slowly. Then, he raised his hand. His essence poured through the layer of dark blue and converted into whatever affinity that was. But it couldn¡¯t leave his body. Well, that wasn¡¯t unexpected. To manipulate something with essence, he needed a target. And if this was a unique affinity that was created from water¡­ With a burst of will, he used Create Water and manifested a bucket-worth. With his essence control, he kept it afloat and then tried to imbue it with the other affinity. He felt like his manipulation would collapse for a moment, but surprisingly, he found it just as easy to manipulate water with this other affinity. But something immediately changed once he did. Apparitions akin to morphing shadows flickered within, and he reflexively dropped the water. It splashed over his legs and the ground. ¡°Ow!¡± he screamed. ¡°What the f¡ª¡± Something stung his legs. Not only that, but the futon seemed slightly torn after what he¡¯d done. Taking his pants off, he found several thin cuts, stings, and scrapes, as if he¡¯d spawned a rabid cat and a nest of wasps directly into his pants. Thankfully, there was only minor bleeding. But that didn¡¯t stop him from feeling incredibly confused. Creating just a tiny bit of water again, he imbued it with the strange affinity. Yet again, blurry, floating shapes manifested within. He carefully brought the water closer to the wall and pressed it against it. What looked like numerous tiny stingers, claws, jaws, and other nasty appendages attached to phantasmal, ghoulish creatures crystallized and started attacking the wall. He observed it for a few moments, mesmerized, and then allowed the water to evaporate. The wall had thin, shallow cuts, bite marks, and cracks. ¡°What the hell is that¡­?¡± he whispered. He sank back into his ethercosm. Having used manipulation with a brand new affinity, he expected to see an entire backdrop of dark blue specks in his soul. There were many red ones already since he tested the blood affinity. Those were the seeds of ether shells, still unformed and attached to an idea, a singular, specific function that the affinity could perform. But what welcomed him was something that he hadn¡¯t expected at all. Instead of a scattering of tiny, undeveloped specks, he saw two dark blue ether shells, already nearly fully formed, that shone as brightly as any he had seen. They were highly complex and intricate, with countless shifting runes along their surface. There was no clue as to what those were, so he tried his luck by asking Leviathan. It snarled at him with an evil sneer. ¡°If those are the only two shells to have appeared,¡± it proposed, ¡°then that is all your affinity can do.¡± That was¡­ He floated back to the two shells. That was it? Those two shells were the entire power set of a whole affinity!? He left the ethercosm and grabbed his head in frustration. So¡­ basically¡­ they did¡­ what exactly? With some more experimentation, he pushed the limits of his new affinity. Apparently, the bigger the blob of water he held up, the greater the attacks and the exponentially larger the essence consumption needed to infuse it. The huge maws, stringers, and claws were not something he wanted to test against the walls¡ªor anything in this room. Not that there was much else there. So, he washed the water out with ordinary water essence to make the spooky phantoms go away. What surprised him the most was that, no matter how much he tried, this affinity seemed limited to a single function. It just turned regular water into¡­ whatever this was. Spooky water? Dangerous water? What about abyssal water? While that seemed fitting, it made for a confusing overlap with Abyssal Depths, which was tied to the regular water affinity. ¡°What about perished water?¡± he mused. That sounded cool enough. "Maybe these are the souls of the things that perished at my hands? Muahahaha¡­ God, I''m losing it." While that was a cool idea, it definitely wasn''t the case. But it would be kind of funny to see old man Janny swinging his stick in there. Even after all that experimenting, the status in his soul didn¡¯t change. The two shells stood there, the same as when they were first created. So¡­ he crystallized them. The first of the two was effectively the exact same thing as what he had been doing with essence manipulation. Upon using it, it turned regular water into perished water. But the exciting part of it was that it was really, really easy to use. It hadn¡¯t been difficult to use before, either, but now it required virtually no effort. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me¡­¡± He tried using the ability together with Create Water. Both shells lit up at once. With utter ease, he manifested a blob of perished water. The essence consumption was a bitch, though; at least twice as much as just using Create Water on its own. Huh. Neat. That basically meant that he had received an augmentation ability of sorts. Realizing this made him breathe a slight sigh of relief. At least the affinity was going to be useful. While it would be far more valuable to him if he were a caster, he still desperately needed something like this. After all, he had no way to attack from range, barring, like, throwing a rock. His attention drifted to the other ability. If this one augmented external techniques, transforming the water¡­ Did this one do the same thing, just for internal abilities? This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡°Oh hell no.¡± There was no way he would test that out without supreme caution. There were too few targets for him to use his talent, so he¡¯d be in a tough spot if he got severely injured. Luckily, there was a relatively safe way to test it. He carefully focused on Hydraulic Flex. For all intents and purposes, it should count as an internal technique if this ability worked the way he presumed it did. He tried using it with his index finger. He failed. There were no muscles in fingers, after all, because the muscles that moved fingers were in the palm and forearm. Thus, he focused on his palm, moving his thumb slightly and trying to imbue that movement with Hydraulic Flex and the other ability. Nothing. Well, Hydraulic Flex triggered, but there wasn¡¯t even the faintest response coming from the other ability. That made him frown. Perhaps he had to use a proper tempering technique. The mere thought of that made him ill. But he wanted to go through with it. Even if it was a sort of tempering empowerment, he¡¯d live. He had used Hundred Wet Hells enough to survive something like that. But he wouldn¡¯t try it with Hundred Wet Hells; instead, he would use Adaptive Water Body. But again. Nothing. It was as if some sort of prerequisite needed to be satisfied for him to use this ability. But what? He tried everything he could think of. Using it on genuine water didn¡¯t work. Using it on perished water didn¡¯t work either. It didn¡¯t activate when he tried using any of his abilities, even when testing it with Hundred Wet Hells. Actually, calling that ability Hundred Wet Hells no longer seemed appropriate. A few seconds of use left him dazed and gasping for air. It had become genuinely frightening after the upgrade. Thus, he decided to rename it to Thousand Wet Hells. After finally testing that, too, all he knew was that he had no clue what this ability did. Well¡­ he¡¯d find out eventually, he hoped. Perhaps he was missing the obvious but failing to see the forest from the trees or something. Either way, although having a ranged attack was reassuring, that didn¡¯t magically solve his problems. He needed equipment. He needed money. Worst case scenario? He would have to go in alone and unequipped to get started. But he was only on his fourth day there. There was still time to figure things out. So, he got up again. Freddy traveled the three-hour walk to the hub and stepped inside, sitting on the couches again. There, he waited, scouting the room for anyone willing to help him out. But he saw very few groups he hadn¡¯t asked already. For most of that day, he sat there, hoping that someone would approach him with an answer. The fear and anxiety piled on him like a cave-in, and he walked back home with his head hanging low, unsuccessful in achieving anything but gathering information and testimonies that informed him of little that he hadn¡¯t already heard. On the fifth day, he got desperate. He asked one of the parties whether they could possibly lend him some money, but the looks they gave him¡­ The shame he felt at that moment killed all desire to try that again. In fact, he was so embarrassed that he left and spent the day in a cafe instead. On his sixth day, he took a jittery walk around town. Numerous ideas floated in his noggin, most of them incredibly stupid. He thought of robbing someone. Hey, if he stepped into the back alleys and someone attacked him first, it would be fair game, no? He even considered visiting loan sharks, but his former adoptive parents had warned him to never deal with loan sharks. Ever. Even if he seemed entirely out of options. Maybe he could sell an organ instead, he thought, but where? How? To whom? The odds of getting himself into deep shit were too high. Waking up on the morning of the seventh day, he was visited by the receptionist, who was more of a hotel manager than anything. He was supposed to leave that room by the evening. Begrudgingly, he paid for three more nights. For the rest of that day, he decided to rest. But that turned out poorly. The tight walls felt like they were pressing against his body and squashing him. It made him feel like he was back in the cell they kept him in between torture sessions, waiting uncertainly until his fate was decided. His heart raged in his chest, and he felt as if every moment that passed was another moment where he sank further into a bottomless hole. Thoughts of the massive head of the leviathan rising far into the sky flashed in his vision. These mole-sloth-monkeys, named gorels, lived in colonies like ants or bees. Knowing his luck, he¡¯d get eaten by the queen, who just happened to decide to take a stroll outside while he was there. He knew it was stupid to think like this, but he couldn¡¯t help it. It felt like the entire world was conspiring against him, and just like so many times before, a single slip-up, or another bout of absurd misfortune, could cost him everything. By 6 p.m. that day, he felt so goddamn exhausted and stressed that he was getting frighteningly close to running away into the woods. ¡°That¡¯s right¡­¡± he whispered. He had that milky pink alia root, didn¡¯t he? Judging by what Spike had said, a single dose was roughly six thousand dollars. Should he just stop being a coward and sell it? What were the odds that this shit would be tracked? Groaning in frustration, he left the room. After visiting the receptionist, he asked her for a cup of boiling water. She obliged, and he brought it back to his room. He had already had a cup of this once. But he prepared it haphazardly, only cold water in a plastic bottle. This time, he wanted to have a dose properly. If it cost that much money, it better be good. The first difference that he spotted was the color. While last time he prepared it, it looked vaguely green; now, it was a vibrant pink. And instead of smelling herbal, it had a sweet scent, like ripe fruit. As soon as he took a sip, feeling the taste of warm milk, his eyes shot wide open. There was a vision of a stormy, downcast day. But the rain suddenly stopped, and a single ray of sunshine broke through. Images of a comfortable bed, a warm soup, a motherly embrace, safety, and everything soothing he could think of flashed in his mind as if dragged up to the surface by merciful hands. Cold water definitely wasn¡¯t the correct way to prepare it. Perhaps it hadn''t even done anything, and he had just been under the placebo effect. Although it did taste milky, it was slightly bitter, which almost made it taste spoiled at first before he got used to it. It was possible that he had again prepared it somewhat incorrectly, but it was no worse than unsweetened instant coffee, even as it was. All thoughts of gloom and doom were snapped away as if they hadn¡¯t even been there. ¡°Jesus Christ¡­¡± he groaned, feeling disappointed in himself. It happened again. Too many times did he get it into his head that he had to do something and then ignored all the reasons against it. Selling the prime he manifested, signing with Madame, fighting that guy from the gym, joining the Wastes arena; each and every single fucking time, he focused on the possible benefits of doing something while completely and utterly ignoring the consequences. No more. None of that. He couldn¡¯t enter a passage alone and unequipped. And he wouldn¡¯t. After thinking that thought, it was as if a mountain slid off his back. He could finally breathe again. So what if he couldn¡¯t do it yet? He had been too eager to get started. As it stood, he was alive and well. Hell, he was basically immortal. His talent provided him with eternal youth. Just because he couldn''t see a solution immediately, that didn''t mean that one didn''t exist. There was no need to go play delver roulette and kill himself like a moron. Even if he had to live in the woods, be homeless, or move to a rural area where he could trim lawns or something while hiding his identity. It wasn¡¯t even 7 p.m., yet all he wanted to do was sleep. So he did. He slept peacefully and dreamt of soft pastures and flowery fields. It was easy to tell why milky pink alia root was so popular among leaders dealing with a ton of stress. Once he woke up, he felt well-rested and peaceful. He washed up, got dressed, and stepped out into the streets. There, he walked around, looking for inspiration. Walking past a bank, he noted that he needed to open an account again. His steps halted. He slowly turned, facing the building with thick glass panels in the front. Then, he walked inside. *** Banks were quite strict with whom they gave money to. It made sense, too; they had to ensure that whoever they provided with a loan could repay it. A stray thought had crossed his mind. Two-star archs were generally considered to have their shit together. So, he entered the bank and made an account. Before he could even ask, the lady helping him open his account made him an offer. Half an hour later, he walked outside. It would take a few days for the account to open, but once it did, he would be the proud borrower of 100,000 dollars. That¡¯s right¡ªhe had taken out a loan. Two-star archs could get that much just like that; no need for credit scores or proof of employment or anything. Granted, that wasn¡¯t a particularly significant sum to a proper two-star, but it would be enough for him to get started. After a few days of waiting, the day finally arrived. He received his card and bid the hotel goodbye, feeling like a new man as he stepped out into the streets. ¡°Well then,¡± he said. ¡°Time to go do some shopping.¡± Chapter 52 - Geared to the Gills ¡°You don¡¯t have to pay immediately, sir,¡± the landlord said amicably, rubbing his hands, ¡°You can stay for two weeks and then decide.¡± Freddy stared across his new rental apartment and nodded his head. ¡°Okay, thanks. I¡¯ll see you in two weeks then.¡± They shook hands, and the man left, looking rather pleased. It was easy to tell why he was so happy. Having a two-star renting place in this run-down building was probably its single biggest mark of prestige. Not that it was horrible, either way. The building he was renting the apartment in was ten times better than his old place. And the space itself was clean, tidy, and well-decorated. There was only a bit of mold in a small corner of the bathroom, too. He stood in the small living room of the one-bedroom home and looked around, breathing out in contentment. It was criminal to rent something like this for over five thousand dollars a month, but the area was highly competitive, so it was hardly a surprise. With his new windfall, he could have probably rented out an even nicer place, but he had no intent on recklessly spending loaned money. Still, he didn¡¯t want to live in a shithole, either, and he had good reason to rent closer to the hub. No sense in wasting several hours a day walking. It was already afternoon, and there was much on his schedule that day, so he started immediately. First thing first, he went grocery shopping. Less than an hour later, his new place was stocked with essentials. Soap, shampoo, toilet paper, basic food, and so on. It amounted to less than a hundred dollars. If he was being honest, he had absolutely no idea how to cook. Luckily, there was no need for anything fancy. He was the furthest thing from a picky eater, so until he started earning a stable income, he would refrain from letting lifestyle inflation consume his finances. Thankfully, he had a lifetime of frugal habits and experience to help him out. He locked the apartment, set out into the streets, and walked to the primary destination for that day. There was a mall near the building holding the public passage. But this was no ordinary shopping center. The white building looked clean, windowless, and generally non-descript from the outside, but, to get inside, he had to show an ID to prove he was an archhuman. Although he would have scoffed at such social barriers before, in this case, he fully understood why mortals had no place there. As he pushed through the suffocating mass of people entering and leaving, he finally stepped inside. ¡°More spatial expansion,¡± he mused. ¡°Haven¡¯t seen that in a while.¡± Indeed, the mall was at least thrice as large as it seemed to be from the outside. This wasn¡¯t his first time entering a place like this, but last time, it was clearly more aimed towards either non-combat archhumans or just rich people in general. But this mall? Every single store inside sold some form of equipment. There were weapon shops, all sorts of resource suppliers, equipment vendors, hell, he even saw a shop dealing in ether constructs. This was the warrior side of things. The people inside were split half-half between those dressed casually and those armed to the gills in full gear¡ªweapons in plain sight and all. During his repeat visits and day-long lounging at the passage lobby, he hadn¡¯t just been sitting around and wondering what to do. He had also been watching. Many times, he saw people remove their equipment, often to treat immediate but relatively benign injuries and sometimes just to take suffocating articles off and allow themselves to breathe. People used a wide range of tools, clothing, and armor, and by cross-referencing what he saw with the catalog he was handed, he had a pretty good picture of everything he needed to get his hands on. First, his eyes scouted the shops for something everyone needed. He was looking for underwear. Not just any type of underwear, but this one-piece bodysuit thing he saw rather frequently. It didn¡¯t take him long to find the shop selling it. Given all the affinities and the virtually unlimited number of different talents, it wasn¡¯t a surprise that people had a varying spectrum of specific needs regarding underwear. Fire archs needed their fireproof, some needed skin exposure or direct contact to make their abilities or talents work, others needed every inch of their body covered, and so on. After walking past the female underwear section, he approached the men¡¯s one-piece department. There was yet again a wide array of clothing to choose from. He glanced right past those that left feet, hands, and the head exposed and went straight for the full-body protection. With only a single opening for the eyes that could be widened to fit into it, this one-piece bodysuit covered everything from his individual toes to the tippity top of his head and, as advertised, only left a single, small gap to see through. He had seen scant few people wearing something like this. Given what he read in the article, it was rather bewildering that it was so rarely used. The main advantage of such a bodysuit was that it covered everything. It was designed to be liquid-repellant and only allowed air to pass through in a single direction, which made it an excellent way to protect from harmful substances, be they liquids or gasses. It also filtered the air it let outside, lowering the odds of something catching the scent of one¡¯s body odor. The thing with passage realms was that, even with all the information one could get their hands on, there was always a risk that simply couldn¡¯t be accounted for¡ªdeviants. Monsters weren¡¯t like the so-called ¡®enlightened species.¡¯ While creatures like humans used prime vestiges to acquire a talent, monsters had an inborn, species-specific trait and naturally possessed an ether star in their soul from birth. In some cases, deviants appeared. Deviants were, well, deviants. They weren¡¯t like their common kin. Their talent and affinities were usually different, and sometimes, they just had an extra affinity on top of the ordinary stuff the other members got. There was no exact number for how often they appeared, but for the gorels of the passage he would be delving into, it was roughly around 1%. While this seemed rare, it really wasn¡¯t. If he encountered only ten on a given day, he¡¯d meet a deviant once every ten days on average, but it was likely that he would be seeing way more. They ranged in power, some being way weaker than ordinary members of their species, while others could become an absolute nightmare that a special team would have to be formed against. But then, given that life, nature, and death all had abilities that could produce some form of lethal substance and that these affinities often appeared in deviants, why wasn¡¯t everyone wearing complete protection? It was simple¡ªit looked weird. While that might have seemed like a terrible reason to compromise one¡¯s safety, it wasn¡¯t. At all. Because when human interaction became a currency, vanity stopped being vain. People¡¯s perception of others mattered. Freddy had firmly been in the ¡®screw reputation¡¯ category of things. And where did that take him? Six men appeared to beat him to death while he was sleeping. He had failed to do his part in setting expectations, so others made their own. There were no friends to stand by him, and everyone was free to paint him to be whoever they wanted him to be. And they wanted him to be an asshole snitch they could vent their frustrations on. Viewed through this lens, it wasn¡¯t weird at all. How would people see someone who appeared overly cautious? They would be seen as either a coward, a tryhard, or as if they were lacking experience. Neither of those three things was desirable for parties looking for members. Thinking further, he concluded that people took seemingly unnecessary risks for the sake of image all the time. Many refused to take medicine when sick, performed all sorts of dangerous stunts to impress others, got tattoos that could make employment difficult, and so on. It was always for a reason, though. It was always with a motive in mind. They decided their reputation so it wouldn''t be decided for them. But, this time, things weren¡¯t like they were in the caves. This wasn¡¯t a place of the desperate and angry; it was the home of dreams and adventure, of hope and aspirations. If someone dressed weirdly or appeared weak, they would just be left alone. Outcast, perhaps, yes, but who cared? He sure didn¡¯t. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. For him, being a loner was preferable for the time being. Not only was his identity fake, but too many secrets of his couldn¡¯t be used in front of others, including his two most significant trump cards. Recklessly showing off would be the real way to invite trouble. Thus, repelling others and getting extra protection was obviously the correct choice. What mattered was that, this time, he was the one choosing his own reputation. When it came to appearance, he had a few options for the bodysuit. First was just ordinary colors, like white, black, beige, and so on. Second was camouflage, ranging in shades depending on the type of environment. And the third was pitch black. Not just ordinary dark, but void dark. It was so black that the fabric looked like someone had cut out a bodysuit-shaped chunk out of reality. The price made his stomach drop, though. ¡°Seventeen thousand, jeez¡­!¡± he noted. ¡°I¡¯m too poor to be even looking at this stuff.¡± And besides, he didn¡¯t strictly need something like that. Camo was good. Besides, most, if not all, of the bodysuit would be covered in other gear anyway. So the color wasn¡¯t that important. It still wasn¡¯t cheap, costing him almost four thousand dollars, but the quality justified the price. Not only was it liquid and gas repellant, it was fire-proof, tearing, slashing, cutting, and piercing resistant, wouldn¡¯t split apart even if it was damaged a bit, was super comfortable, provided a full range of motion, and even promised to act as a partial barrier to touch-related abilities and talents. He was sure that the higher-priced models provided way better versions of all those things, but this was all he could afford. Also, apparently, he was meant to wear socks and boxer shorts over and not under the suit. That didn¡¯t make much sense, and it looked goofy as fuck, but he would obey. A pair of so-called ¡®flatulence filtering¡¯ elastic trunks and knee-high defensive socks later, he was down another seven hundred dollars. Next up was footwear. Shoes were important. Not only were there numerous abilities that could strike from under one¡¯s feet, but he was a martial artist, too, so his shoes had to tolerate quite a beating and provide solid footing. Footing was important. Crucial, even, for any martial artist. As soon as he walked into the shop, he saw the collection of footwear offered. What stuck out to him the most, both here and back at the hub, was that all the footwear had extremely wide toe boxes. At first, he wondered why, but once he asked the worker there, he was stunned at the answer. Apparently, this was the only shape that was actually good for the foot. Tight cleats were just wrong, as they pushed the toes too close together. Yet another sacrifice people took for the sake of appearance. But a rational one. Because these were just so damn ugly to look at. ¡®Duck feet lookin¡¯ ass shoes,¡¯ he thought jokingly. Well, everyone wore these, so they weren¡¯t out of the ordinary. The model he had to buy was the single priciest piece of gear he would get that day, costing him almost twenty thousand dollars. Again, good shoes were quintessential to him. With his heavy body and intense Flowing Strike, he would need his shoes to tolerate a lot of damage. He had to buy a highly resistant model that was easy to maintain. That combo didn¡¯t come cheap with any piece of equipment. As for the looks, he decided on camo for everything. It was a rather popular choice for obvious reasons. And it looked cool as hell. He got thick leggings, a tough shirt, a thick, mail-reinforced turtleneck, a defensive vest, shoulder guards, metal bracers, thick leather gloves with hard knuckles, knee guards, and shin plating; then, after that, he purchased a reinforced synthetic jacket and pants that could be tightly secured to his shoes through standard hooks built into both articles of clothing. And, last but not least, a full helm with a synthetic, shatter-resistant visor. Weapons weren¡¯t his thing, at least not for the time being, so there was little to get in the way of that, but he did fetch the standard hunting knife and a machete just short enough to fit into his storage ring. As for other gear, he bought an ethertech torch, a canteen, and a first-aid kit, which he almost definitely wouldn¡¯t need but got just in case he couldn¡¯t use his talent for whatever reason. For the final thing he purchased, he got a large rucksack. There wasn¡¯t enough space in his storage ring for some of the miscellaneous equipment, and it would be best for others to not know that he had a storage ring. Once he was done shopping, he was down by over seventy thousand dollars. The mere thought of the money he spent sent a trickle of sweat down his spine. For Christ¡¯s sake, he bought low-mid-tier equipment on average! Just how damn pricy would a complete high-end set be? With shopping out of the way, he returned home. There was a large mirror in the living room of his new rental apartment. So there was only one thing left to do, he thought, as he proceeded to put all his gear on. It took him nearly fifteen minutes to tightly secure all the straps and tie all the knots. Once he was done, he witnessed his reflection. ¡°Pfff!¡± he snorted. ¡°Goddamn, I look like a total dweeb,¡± he groaned but was smiling nonetheless. Honestly, he looked pretty dang cool. Like a sweaty try-hard with an army-slash-medieval-warrior fetish, yes, but cool nonetheless. The full helm was particularly edgy. Just the cherry on top he needed. For the rest of that day, he just took a break. He had been too stressed over the last week, and he had to start his delving career well-rested and clear-headed. To that end, he also took another dose of milky pink alia root. A big investment, but a necessary one. While he was scared, he was also buzzing with excitement. As he knew from experience, he¡¯d be too jittery to sleep without assistance. Pushing aside the thought that this might be developing into an addiction, he downed the tea and clocked out early, dreaming of rainbows above green pastures, teddy bears and warm blankets, and unicorns flying above the clouds. Once he woke up, he was as fresh as could be. After his humble breakfast of slightly charred eggs, courtesy of his lack of experience with an actual stove, he donned his tryhard gear and set out to the hub. People made space for him as he walked past them in the streets, and eventually, he reached his destination. Once he stepped inside, many eyes turned to him. Too many, in fact. ¡°Oh, boy,¡± he whispered under his breath. Some people laughed and lightly bumped their companions¡¯ arms while drawing attention to him. Not many, though. Among the crowds seated in the lobby, he spotted only two people that directed any attention his way. It would have been fine if it had stayed at that, but a brunet man got up and stepped before him. ¡°Yo, spec ops, where you headed?¡± he teased with a smile. The man was clearly experienced, showcasing a few scars over his cheeks, and his gear, although seemingly high-quality, was rather ragged and worn out, showing many signs of rigorous maintenance and repair work. Freddy remained silent as he stared at the man. What to do in this scenario? Stay silent? Play pushover? Before he could settle for a plan, the man swung an arm around his neck and leaned in, whispering, ¡°You got some good gear on you,¡± he complimented, wagging his finger. ¡°I can tell you know your stuff. Not my style, but practical. You waiting for your crew?¡± the man asked. He just stared at him, trying to think of what to say. ¡°No? Ah, so you¡¯re solo?¡± he concluded, sucking air through his teeth. ¡°Not the best situation to be in. How about this; my boys and I are gonna delve at ten when we all gather, and you can come with us. I can¡¯t promise you a spot on the team, but we do need someone to guard our equipment and maybe help us bring back the meat. You¡¯ll get a good share! There are six of us in the party. I can offer you five percent of the cut. What do you say?¡± He had no clue whether that was a good deal or not. Although he was strictly against partying with others, playing helper¡­ It certainly circumvented some of the biggest reasons why he would prefer to remain solo. Given how the man phrased it, he wouldn¡¯t be expected to fight beside them, only keep their gear safe while they fought and help them carry stuff. The experience was valuable, and it was much safer than going in alone. This would give him an excellent chance to see how delving was done by others, and he was optimistic that he would learn several things that guides couldn¡¯t teach him, no matter how much they cost. If worse came to worst, he could always bail on the deal and prioritize his own safety. But. ¡°Ten percent,¡± he demanded. There were six of them and one of him¡ªfive percent was just too small a cut, even for what he would be doing. ¡°Pffff¡ª!¡± the man spluttered. ¡°Hell no, man,¡± he frowned and shook his head, looking over to his teammates in a ¡®get a load of this guy¡¯ kind of gesture. ¡°Those aren¡¯t helper rates; I¡¯d pay that to a new member of the team. I can give you six.¡± ¡°Eight,¡± he said. ¡°Six or no deal,¡± the man stated. ¡°You won¡¯t be in the fighting force, you¡¯ll only¡ª¡± ¡°I still might end up fighting,¡± he interrupted the man. ¡°It isn¡¯t like I¡¯m safe just because I¡¯m staying back. Besides, I can carry a lot of weight.¡± He decided to keep the fact that he was a two-star out of the argument. One bastard trying to weasel him into helping out was enough. ¡°Like I said, six is all I can give you,¡± the man gave his final offer. With that, he simply shrugged, turned around, and started for the stairway. There wasn¡¯t even a shred of hesitation in his steps. He walked the walk of a man genuinely giving up on a deal. Because, well, he was. The man called again several seconds later, ¡°Okay, fine!¡± he shouted. ¡°But under one condition. You said you can carry a lot, right?¡± He nodded. ¡°Let¡¯s see it then!¡± he said, pointing at one of his team members. The man was somewhat muscular but wasn¡¯t exactly someone who gave off the presence of strength. Still, given the other guy¡¯s attitude, the dude probably had a strength-enhancing talent. ¡°If you can beat him in arm wrestling,¡± he said, ¡°I¡¯ll give you eight percent; no, fuck it, I¡¯ll give you ten. But if you lose, I¡¯ll give you six as promised.¡± Whether he could beat that man in an arm-wrestling match, he had no clue. But he didn¡¯t care either way. ¡°No,¡± he refused outright. ¡°We are about to delve, and you want to risk your party members injuring themselves?¡± he asked with a scoff. ¡°Forget it; I don¡¯t want to delve with you.¡± ¡°Okay, fine, you pathological fuckhead,¡± the man surrendered. ¡°Eight percent.¡± ¡°Nine percent,¡± he shot back, smiling beneath his full helm. Just a bit over half the rate everyone else would be getting. That should be fine. The man rolled his eyes so hard it looked like he was trying to find a pesky hornet flying above his head. ¡°You better be the best goddamn helper I¡¯ve ever seen in my life!¡± Freddy smiled beneath the helm. ¡°We have a deal then.¡± Chapter 53 - Preparations Freddy sat beside the people he had made a deal with; there were only three of them there so far, with their leader sitting on the small chair and the other two seated on the couch beside Freddy. The man whose strength the leader had much faith in was the quiet type, sporting a buzz cut even shorter than his own, his longsword resting in its sheath and his black synthetic carbon helm placed on the table before them. The man wore entirely black gear, not pitch black like those items he had seen in the equipment store, but dark enough to be near-invisible during the nighttime. Three bags, all in a similar style to his own, were piled beneath the coffee table. The three party members chatted idly, refraining from any talks about the delving itself until the other three members of their crew arrived. They talked about the weather, shared stories about their outings and parties they¡¯d been to recently, and generally stuck to mundane, day-to-day stuff. ¡°So,¡± the third man, a guy with long black hair, wearing a thick green coat and carrying a bow over his back, called and turned to face him. ¡°What¡¯s your name, soldier?¡± he asked snarkily. ¡°F¡ª¡± he bit his tongue. He had come really close to introducing himself as Freddy. Then, he realized that he had actually forgotten the name on his ID. Oh, shit, what was it again? he wondered. Leonard? That didn¡¯t seem right. ¡°My name is Liam,¡± he said, suddenly remembering it. ¡°Liam Johnson,¡± and he shared the fake surname he had settled on. Once half a year or so passed, that would be on his ID card, so he started introducing himself as such ahead of time to make sure that that was the name he was known by and not the actual name on the ID. He wanted to avoid leaving such a trail out in the wide open if at all possible. ¡°Well, nice to meet you, Liam. My name is Robert,¡± the archer offered, nodding his head. ¡°Oh, right,¡± the swordsman remembered. ¡°I¡¯m Kyle.¡± ¡°My name¡¯s Theodore,¡± the leader added, raising his hand with a smirk on his face. ¡°So, tell me honestly,¡± the archer continued, ¡°are you new to delving?¡± the man asked bluntly. The other two seemed interested as well. ¡°Honestly?¡± He hummed. ¡°Kind of? I¡¯ve fought monsters before, but it wasn¡¯t in delves like these,¡± he fully admitted. ¡°What, did the new gear give it away?¡± The leader¡¯s eye twitched. ¡°Dude¡­ you have no experience?¡± he asked, looking absolutely scandalized and seemingly preparing himself to renege the deal they had made. But he was quick to shut that down. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I have enough experience to handle myself.¡± The man raised an eyebrow. ¡°Tell me about your skill set,¡± he demanded. Freddy hesitated. It would be best if they knew his basic abilities for the safety of everyone involved, but he would refrain from sharing everything. ¡°I have the water affinity, and my Flowing Strike is at stage one,¡± he stated. ¡°I also have a rather advanced Hydraulic Flex, and I use Hundred Wet Hells as my primary tempering technique. I¡¯ve been training unarmed martial arts, although, admittedly, I¡¯m not the most talented at it, so I¡¯ve been focusing on growing my abilities to compensate.¡± ¡°Pffff¡ª¡± the leader snorted. ¡°Come on, I get hyping your resume, but be realistic!¡± ¡°What?¡± he spluttered confusedly. ¡°An advanced Hydraulic Flex and Hundred Wet Hells. Hah!¡± he snorted. ¡°Get a load of Young Master over here; do you think we were born yesterday?¡± ¡°Uh¡­¡± he muttered. ¡°I mean, if you want me to demonstrate, I¡¯d be happy to¡­?¡± he offered but didn¡¯t know how. ¡°Okay, then,¡± the man said, amusement crawling over his face. ¡°If you have Hundred Wet Hells, you shouldn¡¯t be afraid of an arm-wrestling match with my buddy.¡± Freddy rolled his eyes at that. This man must really like watching arm wrestling. ¡°Hell, with Hydraulic Flex,¡± the man continued, ¡°you might even win!¡± he said cheekily. He wanted to retort, but¡­ he realized that saying, ¡°I¡¯m not the one who¡¯ll get hurt,¡± would sound just a bit too arrogant. Sighing, he turned to the swordsman, ¡°Which is your dominant arm?¡± The man answered, ¡°Right.¡± He nodded at him. ¡°Same. So let¡¯s both do left then. That way, even if you sprain something, it won¡¯t hinder your swordsmanship.¡± ¡°Ooohohohoho,¡± the archer cackled, clapping his hands. ¡°Those are some fightin¡¯ words. I like this guy.¡± ¡°Okay then,¡± the leader said, shrugging with an expression that betrayed his anticipation. ¡°Let¡¯s get it on. Move all this shit,¡± he requested, moving the miscellaneous bottles and papers off the coffee table. ¡°Uhm,¡± he started, raising an eyebrow. ¡°Is this alright? Won¡¯t we get into trouble if we break the table?¡± ¡°Nah, don¡¯t worry,¡± the man waved an arm. ¡°They have nature-affinity personnel who can fix broken tables in seconds. Idiots like us are an everyday occurrence in these parts.¡± Although he was pretty strong, he was damn skinny. He had recovered a bit but was still quite far from his bodybuilder era. A two-star physique had nearly twice the physical potential of a one-star, but he hadn¡¯t tapped much into it. Still, he was 100% confident in his victory, even if the man had a powerful strength-related talent. The reason why was simple¡ªhe had a second star. Although his overall essence capacity was still only around 110% of the maximum a one-star could have, given that his star added only another 10%, he could now double the essence consumption when using an ability. All he had to do was engage both stars at once. A Hydraulic Flex at double power would be more than enough to close the gap. He just had to make sure it wasn¡¯t too noticeable. The two adversaries got into position. Freddy tightly gripped the table with his right hand and clasped his left with the other man¡¯s. The two men stared each other down, both doing a few tease pulls to psych their opponent out and lightly test their strength, and the tension around them grew. People started whispering. Quite a few bystanders made their way closer, gathering into a small crowd of spectators. The party leader got into position. A few moments later, he swung an arm down. ¡°Begin!¡± Both men pulled. ¡°Gah!¡± he groaned, instantly having to resort to full physical exertion just to keep his arm from getting slammed down. No wonder they were so damn confident. But¡­ even without Hydraulic Flex, he was actually holding on. The man¡¯s face was growing red, and he appeared sweaty, not that he was doing much better himself¡ªif anything, he regretted not taking the stupid helmet off. As the match progressed, it became increasingly evident that he would lose. But it was happening really slowly. Although the man had already gained full advantage and brought leverage under his control, the rate at which his arm dropped wasn¡¯t particularly fast. He wasn¡¯t surprised; his endurance and willpower were extraordinary, so he could keep going unhindered even in the face of the pain and discomfort. But winning without Hydraulic Flex wouldn¡¯t be possible. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. Just as his arm was about to fall a bit too low for him to stand a chance of recovery, he activated his ability, using only a single star. It was as if the man suddenly became weightless. As the essence flowed through the water in his limb, it compressed and tightened his biceps while his grip on the table grew strong enough to make the wood crack. The man¡¯s entire body was rotated, and he was thrown bodily to the side as the back of his hand slammed into the table¡¯s surface, shattering it into splinters. For a long moment, the room turned deathly silent. Then, the cheering began. *** For the fifteenth time, Freddy profusely apologized to Kyle. Given his talk about ¡®risking party member¡¯s injuries,¡¯ he felt pretty like the biggest goddamn hypocrite. Now, the man¡¯s hand was being wrapped up in bandages by a rather angry-looking blonde woman, a water-affinity caster named Petra. The other three party members had arrived, including a tall, bald Black man, Lance, who was an earth-affinity brawler; Petra, as mentioned above; and Beatrice¡ªa red-head fire-affinity caster and Theodore¡¯s wife, who was in the middle of an argument with him because he hired help without consulting the entire party. He looked down at his left hand, deep in thought. He had absolutely no idea that Hydraulic Flex was that powerful. The time in the caves hadn¡¯t provided him with enough opportunity to truly test it. But even without it¡­ even as a freshly-ascended two-star and martial artist¡­ should he really have strength comparable to someone with a dedicated talent for it? No. The answer to that was no. Definitely not. Maybe if he had more muscle mass, he could justify it, but this¡ª ¡°Excuse me,¡± Petra called, lightly tapping his forearm. ¡°Huh?¡± he said, turning to face her. ¡°Oh, sorry; what is it?¡± ¡°We are starting the meeting,¡± she said blandly, eyeing him with blatant dislike, ¡°So you should probably pay some attention if you¡¯re still going with us.¡± ¡°Oh!¡± he exclaimed. ¡°Right, I¡¯m so sorry.¡± ¡°Hmph,¡± she snorted, turning back to face the others. As they settled in their seats, there were many signs that their minds were still on the arm-wrestling match. Robert sneered at Kyle teasingly, Theodore tried not to under the baleful glare of Beatrice, Lance shook his head at them in disapproval, Petra still looked quite annoyed given that her fiance had just gotten needlessly injured before a delve, and Kyle seemed deeply ashamed. But as soon as Theodore opened his mouth and started the meeting, all that vanished instantly. Lives depended on solid preparation. There was no room for drama. The realm they were delving into was a tricky one. Many realms were underground or had permanent nights or days, while others had some form of day-night cycle that might or might not resemble New Earth¡¯s. Where they were delving was the latter, but it was the worst type imaginable. The night was nearly pitch black, while the days were searing hot¡ªand neither lasted a set amount of time. Both could last between fifteen minutes to over fifty hours, with no way to predict their length. When it was time to swap, it happened in a snap. Bright days turned to pitch darkness, and depths of the night turned blindingly sunny in an instant¡ªand if it happened during a fight, one better adapt fast. Gorels lived underground, so they didn¡¯t rely on their eyes much either way. To make things even worse, the Crimson Twilight would appear every half a year to two years. Neither night nor day, it was a state where the sky grew blood red, and the gorels went insane. It was the only time the royal guards made their way to the surface, and an outright war between the hives happened. Thankfully, the last time the Crimson Twilight appeared was two months ago, so there was minimal risk of it occurring for quite a while longer. But, unfortunately, that came with a significant downside¡ªthe cycles had been disrupted. Gorels had queens that lived short lives, anywhere between two to three months, depending on the size of the hive¡ªshorter in bigger ones and longer in smaller ones. Things got quite hectic when it was time for a new queen to be born. Different monster species treated deviants differently. Some followed their species¡¯ mightiest members, deviant or not. While others¡­ got rid of them. For gorels, it was complicated. They tolerated deviants most of the time, but in the few days when they swapped queens, the guards grew hyper-protective, resulting in all the deviants being chased out of the nest or killed. The interesting part was that, in larger hives, while there were more deviants, the tunnels were too long for most of them to escape, while the smaller hives, which had fewer deviants, had far more of them make it to the surface due to the shorter escape paths. Being around small hives who were swapping queens was insanely dangerous. It was also quite popular. Why? Because deviants, upon death, had a chance to manifest a prime vestige. Killing them was among the few ways primes could be acquired, and as Freddy had learned the hard way, primes could fetch quite the price. The first few months after a Crimson Twilight were always tricky. Hives sporadically lost their queens, and the cycles got more complicated to track. Fighting deviants might have been lucrative, but it was high risk, high reward. They could be all sorts of tricky, and for less experienced parties, it was best to avoid them with a wide berth. That was their party''s plan, and he had no objections. It was a sound decision. The chances of getting a prime were in the low single digits¡ªan unwise gamble, given the danger involved. Planning their route and dividing roles took them less than twenty minutes. Both Beatrice and Petra were furious to discover that he was on his first delve, and the only reason they hadn¡¯t outright chased him out was that he was at least fully equipped and had proved himself capable enough to outmuscle their main muscleman, as well as considerate enough to use the non-dominant arm. Still, even though they decided to let him stay, they rigorously instructed him on what to do. ¡°Never go out of sight,¡± Petra repeated herself. ¡°Always inform us of anything coming, even if you think we saw it. Don¡¯t fight anything; you¡¯ll only get in the way; even if you think we¡¯re losing the fight, you shouldn¡¯t get involved. We can¡¯t use our abilities freely without all our members knowing the right cues and having the training to react to hearing them. If you still wish to act, expect to be hit by Beatrice¡¯s fireball or Robert¡¯s arrows. If something, or someone, goes for the bags, it''s your job to delay it until we can react. Fail to do this, and you¡¯ll lose your cut. Do I need to repeat anything else?¡± He thought for a moment, then shook his head. ¡°Okay,¡± she said. ¡°Well then. I think we should get going.¡± *** While he had been concerned about the earnings split, it turned out that his worries were for naught. They all had to confirm that they were in the same party, and the leader presented the shares with their consent while the clerk wrote them down. For a brief moment, he was scared that this process would reveal the name on his ID, but that was also something he didn¡¯t need to worry about. While he did have to give his ID, it was only to document everything, and the name wasn¡¯t shared with his party members. As soon as they finished that, they walked down into the room. Almost immediately, an unpleasant tang in the air struck his senses. He recognized that smell. It was the stink of blood, and he could even sense the faint hint of charred flesh. That brought up extremely unpleasant memories, but he showed no outward indication that it had upset him. It was easier to hide things when nobody could see his face. Eventually, they finally entered the lobby that directly connected to the passage. The first thing that caught his eye in the main room was the massive portal on the other side. It was the most prominent passage he had ever seen, wide enough for ten people to walk side by side without much problem. And, through that passage, several people dragged monster corpses. Most of them were contained in transparent plastic bags. They looked slightly smaller than he expected them to, but their description as edgy sloth monkeys was on point. Their fur collected into black spikes, and hints of red adorned their chests. There were no cozy couches here, only hard benches and wooden chairs; on some of them, injured individuals were having their wounds treated out in the open. One of them had a massive gash along his stomach, and a part of his intestines was falling out. Thank fuck that I decided to handle equipment before coming here, was the only thought he had on his mind as he winced in sympathy as the person screamed at having their viscera shown back into their guts. ¡°Nasty day,¡± Theodore said. ¡°Stay focused.¡± Kyle, who looked more intimidating in his work mode, gradually shifted towards Freddy until he stepped beside him. ¡°So¡­ You also have a strength talent then?¡± the man asked as if the answer was already evident. His lips tightened as he thought his words through. He had already prepared what he would say to others ahead of time. ¡°Actually, no,¡± he denied. ¡°I have a regeneration-boosting talent.¡± Which was close enough to the truth that nobody would question it. Even if someone noticed that his talent worked harder while he was fighting, he could always say that killing things or fighting made his talent go into overdrive or that he could manually boost the effectiveness sometimes or whatever. As long as he stuck close enough to the truth, it would be easy to justify discrepancies. ¡°Wow!¡± the man said, frowning in bemusement. ¡°How the hell are you so strong, then?¡± ¡°Steroids,¡± he said simply, again stating a half-truth. ¡°A lot of ¡®em.¡± The man winced at that. ¡°Yeah, that makes sense.¡± Then, he asked, ¡°You weren¡¯t kidding about that Hydraulic Flex, though,¡± he conceded, chuckling. ¡°That thing must be close to stage one, right?¡± His lips yet again stretched into a line upon hearing that. It was actually only at around 30% complete. ¡°Yeah,¡± he confirmed anyway. ¡°Man, you must have had¡ª¡± the man tried continuing the conversation, but Petra intervened. ¡°Quiet back there. We¡¯re entering the passage.¡± Thus, they stepped through the massive entrance. It was day, luckily, and they walked out into the clearing. The sun burned intensely, shining from almost directly above. Trees had been felled, and a wide area had been cleared of growth. It was quite rocky, with many bushes covering the stones and medium-height trees jotting sparsely through the rough terrain. The heated air swiveled above the stone quarry around them, twisting and morphing with the heated air coming off them. Without hesitation, Theodore turned down their planned route, and they started their hunt in absolute silence. Chapter 54 - Pros in Action Green, yellow, red, and black. These were the color codes used to mark the danger of areas in passage realms. This was the first time Freddy realized that this system wasn¡¯t unique to the mining expedition. As they stepped into the green zone that marked the starting area, he couldn¡¯t stop himself from looking around in wonder. This realm had a rather unique geographical layout. Stone dominated most of the terrain, and hardy wood and low brush were right about the only thing that could survive there. Through the rocky soil, numerous paths had been carved, each clearly marked, their beginnings adorned by a highly informative sign stating where the road headed, with a chunk of a larger map printed out beneath the signs detailing nest locations, entrances, hotspots, and more. ¡°Wow¡­¡± he breathed out. As someone who had spent so long working in caverns where such signs carried considerably less information, he couldn¡¯t help but appreciate the value of these markings. He carefully observed the sign beside the road they were heading down. There were no red areas. Good. Only two nests, and both seemed to be of medium size. The road they headed down was paved in flat stone, and its surface was so smooth that it glistened. The sheer number of shoe-bottoms that had graced this surface had polished it over the ages. Eventually, the rocky terrain grew smoother, and the trees grew taller. Their walk was primarily silent, without much conversation between them, but the occasional, distant noise broke the quiet. It was vague, but it sounded like smashing or clinging or something, and in one direction, he could even spot a plume of smoke rising into the air. Then, they walked past another party. It was a five-man crew carrying tied-up bundles of gorel corpses, all wrapped in plastic bags, and they waved at them as they passed by, cheerfully carrying their bounty away. Not long after, they approached the edge of the green zone, and the distant noises became clearer. It was the smashing of abilities going off, clinging of metal meeting claws, sounds of explosions and shouting; so much shouting. The calm walk there hadn¡¯t given him an illusion of safety, but it had been deceptively quiet. The sounds around him cleared it up¡ªthey weren¡¯t on a walk through the woods¡ªthey were entering a warzone. The forest grew denser, the trees becoming tall and lush enough to plunge their path into darkness beneath the canopy. Suddenly, the visor on his helmet felt stifling, and although most of his vision was intact, having even just the edges of his sight cut off made him feel blinder than he wanted to be. An unexpected hand landed on his shoulder, and he jumped, facing the man who put it there. Theodore, the brunet party leader, nodded at him and lightly patted his shoulder. ¡°Are you nervous?¡± the man asked in a whisper. He decided to be honest and nodded his head. Indeed. This was serious. He had thought he would be more prepared, that his time working in the caverns and the experience of fighting and killing a leviathan would allow him to be calmer, but he hadn¡¯t walked into those situations ready to fight. And, if he was being honest, the memories of his battle against the sea monster and the patriarch made him, if anything, want to retire and never face another monster again. He had no delusions of greatness¡ªthe only reason he had lived through that situation was because he just happened to have had the right tools at the right time. It had mostly been luck. Regular delving, actually fighting with his life on the line where he relied on nothing but his knowledge, skill, and capabilities, was something he was entirely new to. ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± the man said, smiling at him, ¡°All of us here had started somewhere, too, and we¡¯re still alive.¡± He laughed a bit, pulling on Freddy¡¯s jacket. ¡°The first time I walked in here, I was wearing my grandpa¡¯s old jacket and three pairs of jeans stacked over one another.¡± Some among the others chuckled at that. ¡°And you had us, don¡¯t forget us,¡± the man¡¯s wife, Beatrice, said. ¡°Right,¡± he acknowledged. ¡°I even managed to survive despite having them.¡± ¡°Hey!¡± the woman protested, and he chuckled mirthlessly. ¡°Relax,¡± he said again, tapping him on the back. ¡°You¡¯re strong, well-equipped, and, hopefully, won¡¯t be directly engaged in a fight. It¡¯ll be fine.¡± ¡°Man, don¡¯t say that kind of stuff,¡± Robert butted in. ¡°You¡¯re gonna jinx us.¡± ¡°Okay, enough chatting!¡± Petra interrupted. ¡°We¡¯re already in a danger zone! Keep your eyes peeled and your mouths shut.¡± The man¡¯s mood visibly soured, and he shook his head. He bowed his head and whispered into his ear, ¡°Don¡¯t get the wrong idea about her. She isn¡¯t a total¡­ uh¡­ you know¡­ Just during delves. Her sister died during one, so¡­¡± ¡°Ah, okay,¡± he said, but honestly, nothing the woman had done so far had irked him. All she had really done was follow safety protocols and rightfully tell them to stay silent. Gorels primarily relied on their hearing, after all. ¡°Movement,¡± Theodore said, suddenly turning serious as he whirled to their right. ¡°Two-thirty.¡± The group silenced. Everyone instantly took their bags off, cradling them in their left arms while holding a weapon out in their right, if they had one. Theodore and Lance were the only two among them to, at least at first glance, appear unarmed. But the leader¡¯s white gloves were clearly not an ordinary clothing article, and Lance had metallic gloves that were more like gauntlets. Robert held his bow, Kyle held his sword, and Petra and Beatrice held small staves. They hadn¡¯t told Freddy exactly what this meant, but he mimicked them and did the same thing, cradling his bag in his left arm. Nobody chastised him, so it at least wasn¡¯t a mistake. Their group went deathly silent as they stepped off the paved path and into the forest. It became instantly apparent what Lance had been calling out. There was a small group of things scurrying around a freshly dug-out entrance, gathering dead branches, pulled-out bushes, and mushrooms into piles. The small tunnel they were moving through was coming out of the side of a large stone formation. Once they approached maybe fifty meters away from their targets, Theodore raised his right arm, pointed a finger into the air, and swirled it around. He knew what that meant. This was where they would leave their bags. All of them, including himself, threw their baggage into a large pile. He took a length of rope out of his rucksack and tied all the bags together. He tied a small weight they had provided him with around the rope''s end, threw it up and across a tall branch, and then pulled, raising their baggage above the ground. Lance had moved to help him but stepped back when he realized that he had no trouble lifting this much by himself. After tying the rest of the rope around the tree, he nodded, and the rest of them took off toward their targets, sneaking closer. Robert climbed up into a tree, showcasing incredible agility with his air affinity, moving as if the air was dragging him along rather than providing resistance. Lance and Kyle split up, both men closely followed by one of the two casters, and Theodore stood right where he was, only tentatively hiding behind a tree. Once they all got into position, the man raised an arm forward. He made a finger-gun gesture with his right hand and then, suddenly, fired a high-speed beam of light at one of the creatures. The gorel was startled, but the attack did no harm. All it did was leave a white, glowing mark on the creature¡¯s fur. Then another ability triggered, marking another beast, this time with a red color. The gorels were warily eyeing the direction the attacks were coming from. Multiple such abilities triggered, marking each gorel with a different color. Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. Not long after, the monsters clearly had enough and rushed into the woods, searching for whoever was doing this. ¡°Lance!¡± the leader yelled out. The brawler immediately grabbed a sizable nearby rock and threw it at immense speed toward the tunnel entrance. The projectile smashed above the hole, collapsing it and preventing reinforcements from arriving. ¡°Robert! Red, blue, cyan, shoot!¡± Theodore yelled, and then the archer shot at the monsters marked in red, blue, and cyan, respectively. The first two were caught clean in the torso, and the third was hit in the leg, but although the arrows had quite some power behind them, it was still barely enough to slow them down. ¡°Petra, green, bubble! Beatrice, red and cyan, firewall!¡± the man commanded. Over the next few moments, the one with the green mark was trapped in a floating bubble of water, and the monster group was split right between the cyan and red gorels by a blazing hot firewall. Theodore kept calling out names, colors, abilities, and sometimes, numbers, using a 360-degree system to communicate where something was coming from or where it had to go. Kyle¡¯s sword slashed with such finesse and precision that it rarely, if ever, took more than a single swing to end a monster. Petra, who had the skill set of the other most common path water archs took, used her support abilities to debilitate opponents by trapping them in floating bubbles or turning the soil beneath their feet into mud puddles. Lance showcased the true power of the earth affinity, pummeling the creatures with rock-hard punches and kicks, raising the soil and shifting it to break the monster¡¯s footing up and gain the upper hand. Beatrice, although she avoided using her abilities directly on the monsters, likely to spare their bodies from being destroyed, could easily control the flow of battle by segmenting areas with a Firewall. There had been around a dozen gorels there, outnumbering the party two to one, but after only a few minutes and without any apparent hiccups, the creatures were dead, and their party was victorious. The teamwork, the planning, the setup, the synergies¡ªit painted the picture of an efficient and deadly group of experienced hunters. And Theodore, despite not even inflicting a single injury on any of the creatures, had easily contributed the most. His marking ability made it effortless to pinpoint the exact enemy he was talking about, allowing him to quickly and clearly communicate information in battle. ¡°You guys are amazing,¡± he couldn¡¯t stop himself from saying as they reached him. Theodore laughed loudly. ¡°First time seeing a pro party in action?¡± It wasn¡¯t. Not really. He had seen a lot of combat footage while working as a cashier. But the memories of that¡ªfrom a period where he knew little to nothing about the world of archs¡ªwere blurry and hazy. The footage wasn¡¯t filmed to be clear to mortals, and nobody invested effort into explaining what was happening. It also didn¡¯t help that most of the footage he saw was from the news; thus, it was chaotic and unfocused. ¡°Yeah,¡± he said. ¡°That was pretty epic.¡± ¡°I appreciate the compliments,¡± the leader said, ¡°but you should probably keep an eye out for anything that might be coming and not watching us all the time.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± he said nervously, ¡°Trust me, I was glancing around¡­ a lot.¡± The man chuckled and asked him to put their gear down. Once the bags were back on the ground, they took out plastic bags and gloves. Then, they gathered the corpses and some pieces that had fallen victim to Kyle¡¯s sword or a particularly nasty punch by Lance and placed them into the bags, trying to keep them to one body at a time. The bags could be sealed by pulling on a small thread. Then, through the use of plastic hooks and racks, they could be tied into bundles. ¡°This is where your work really comes in,¡± Theodore said, turning to face him. ¡°You¡¯re gonna have to carry a lot of these. We¡¯re not done hunting until we take at least another party this size.¡± Then, pointing at the rope the bags had been tied to, he added. ¡°Just for the record, you¡¯re guarding the bags so that no pricks would try to snatch a bag or two while we¡¯re distracted.¡± And then, pointing at the bags of monsters, he added. ¡°These are the goods that¡¯ll really be in danger. Gorels can smell the blood of their kin, and they tend to gather the corpses to drag them back down into the hive. There is a rather high likelihood that you¡¯ll have to defend the bodies from an attack.¡± He winced at that. ¡°So you¡¯ve seen them in action now. I¡¯ll give you a choice,¡± the man said. ¡°You can help us drag these corpses back to the hub to sell and return or guard them while we fight another group. If you choose the first option, as per our agreement, you must carry most of the burden so we can stay in shape for another fight. But if you pick the¡ª¡± ¡°Let¡¯s take these back first,¡± he answered unhesitantly. He was confident in fighting; he really was, but there was no need to take the risk. And if there was anything he excelled at, it was hauling heavy stuff around on his back. Theodore shrugged. ¡°I prefer that option, too." Everyone agreed with that. Hauling two dozen monster corpses wouldn¡¯t be an easy task. So, without hesitation, he lifted one of the bags. These things were quite heavy; judging from experience, he could tell that the bag weighed around 40kgs, a bit over half the weight of an average adult male. Grabbing the rack, he hooked together six bags. ¡°Whoa, whoa, whoa,¡± Theodore said, putting a hand on his shoulder. ¡°Take it easy, pal, those things aren¡¯t light, and we have a while of walking to get back to the passage. That¡¯s over five hundred pounds you¡¯re trying to haul are you trying to kill yourself?¡± ¡­ He was about to hook another two for a total of eight, which he assumed himself capable of doing but stopped upon the man¡¯s request. Indeed, he had lost a lot of muscle mass since the peak of his strength. Perhaps he was getting a bit ahead of himself. ¡°I¡¯ll keep it to six, then,¡± he said, attaching the two bands that would wrap around his arms, allowing him to wear the rack like a backpack. He also tied his rucksack over it. It did add another fifty pounds to the weight, but he should still be able to do it. If not, he¡¯d take a bag off. Before Theodore could stop him, he hauled the weight onto his back¡­ and got up. It was pretty heavy, indeed, and he could tell seven would already be too much. ¡°This much is fine,¡± he said. Theodore raised an eyebrow at that. ¡°Okay, Spartan,¡± then, with a cheeky smile, he added, ¡°If you can carry that all the way to the passage, I¡¯ll add another 1% to your pay.¡± Freddy nodded at that. ¡°Deal.¡± And thus, they began their journey. On their way back, Theodore remained hyper-vigilant and a few times, redirected their path, stating that there was danger up ahead. With the man¡¯s guidance, the party always took the safest path. As for the rest of the bags, all of them carried one each. It took them around an hour to make it back. Every few minutes, they threw inquiring glances his way and seemed more and more surprised that he was handling himself just fine. Theodore was getting somewhat tired from hauling his weight, and even the girls showed signs of slight wear, albeit less than their leader. While that much wasn¡¯t particularly bad, they were all one-stars. Only Kyle had a dedicated talent to help him carry his share; everyone else had to rely on their bodies. It was also unsurprising that Theodore was struggling. After all, the man was a light-affinity arch¡ªand the light affinity had pretty much no tempering techniques. Light-affinity archs were nearly guaranteed to get the holy affinity upon ascension, and that at least provided them with a few options. Until then, however¡­ they had little to rely on. By the end of their journey, Freddy was pretty exhausted, but not nearly as much as he should have been. At least not according to them. They praised his strength and endurance as they dropped the bodies off at the counter and returned to the passage. After another hour of walking, rehydrating themselves, and eating some snacks, they all recovered their energy. And so did he. But while some slight signs of fatigue were on them, he was perfectly fine. To him, this came as no surprise. He had used Adaptive Water Body much while hauling massive boulders on his back. To the others, however¡­ ¡°What the fuck kind of juice are you on to be so damn tough!?¡± Robert asked, eyeing him with evident bemusement in his expression. He chuckled at that. ¡°Trust me, if you knew the type of training I¡¯ve gone through, you wouldn¡¯t be surprised.¡± If anything, that only made the others more curious, but Petra quickly cut their interrogation off as they again set foot into the forest, raising her even further in his eyes. After not even ten minutes of searching, they came across another group of gorels. But this was different. The last group was only workers. This one wasn¡¯t. ¡°Three guards and six workers,¡± Theodore said, using an ability to scout from afar. ¡°What do you guys think?¡± ¡°Shouldn¡¯t be a problem,¡± Petra said, surprisingly enough. ¡°I can keep a guard contained in a bubble, and Beatrice can blow another one up. We lose a body, but that makes things minimal risk.¡± Theodore nodded. ¡°My thoughts exactly. But instead of Fireball, I think we could get away with Robert¡¯s Negative Pressure. If we really need it, Beatrice can ease our load later if things get too hectic.¡± After a few seconds of thinking, they nodded in agreement. ¡°You heard it, chief,¡± he said to the archer. ¡°Aim for the head.¡± Robert nodded. They approached the position again, starting the fight with Theodore marking all the opponents. Petra trapped one guard in a bubble, as promised, and another guard was struck by an arrow traveling impossibly fast, which resulted in half its head being blown wide open. Freddy kept an eye on the fight, but this time, he took his role of lookout more seriously, observing the forest surrounding them. Suddenly, the sound of something clawing its way down a nearby tree reached his ears, and he turned to face the noise. A very angry-looking gorel stared at him from behind a tree beside him. Judging by its large build and sharp claws, it was a guard. And judging by the green stripes running all across its body¡­ It was a deviant. Chapter 55 - Pitch Black Aura There was no time to think. Freddy stood, facing a green-striped guard, unsure of what to do. The creature was clearly after him, and not the bags, so he made the wise choice of backing away while yelling ¡°Devia¡ª!¡± but that was all he could get out before the creature launched a bundle of slithering vines and wrapped his body up from head to toe. The guard charged at him fearlessly, readying its claws to disembowel him. Hydraulic Flex triggered, tightening his muscles and straining against the vines tying him up. With a tearing sound, he managed to free the upper part of his body, and with a mighty grip, he started removing the vines around his legs, but the creature was nearly upon him, forcing him to jump aside and roll back up to his feet. The monster swirled, preparing to tie him up in vines once more, but the attack struck empty air as he tumbled to the side again, finally setting his legs free. The monster charged at him again, preparing to swing its claws at him, and this time, he could clearly see the glistening shine of a liquid¡ªlikely venom. Gritting his teeth, he focused. His first star lit up, shining brightly as the essence from within flowed out, and the second star joined it as the guard reached him, doubling the essence output. His leg swung up with a Flowing Strike. The gorel didn''t dodge. Gorels in general had a tendency to not dodge attacks. Big mistake. His foot landed on its jaw, slamming its nasty mouth shut, crushing the teeth, cracking the skull, and snapping the neck with the visceral sound of vertebrae popping apart and flesh tearing. As the force of the strike was transferred through his leg, the creature''s momentum was completely halted, forcing it to a stop as blood gushed out its eyes and mouth. Not even a whimper came out as the guard dropped lifelessly to the ground. He followed soon after, unable to stay on his feet. ¡°Fuuuuuu¡ª!¡± he cursed, holding his hip, which, together with his knee and ankle, hurt like hell from the backlash. Activating both his stars with Flowing Strike had not been a good idea. Using it in action for the first time was stupid. Given that he used Abyssal Depths, he had to be extra careful to ensure he could handle the force of his attacks. Thankfully, he landed a solid blow, ending the fight before having to face the consequences of his mistake. Lifesteal flowed into his body, undoing some of the damage. It was enough to let him stand up on his feet, but it left him confused. Even with only 1% Lifesteal, was smashing this creature''s head and killing it on the spot really not enough to offset the backlash? That had him worried. But it was no big deal. Injuries suffered as a consequence of ability use recovered at almost supernatural quality. That was the crutch¡ªEthereal Mercy¡ªthe phenomenon that made using abilities possible without completely destroying one¡¯s body. His combat shoes¡­ They were fine. Other than the smattering of blood on them, they had held firm, withstanding the force of his attack without any hiccups. Good. His decision to splurge extra on them had been a wise one. His eyes glanced at the body before him. There was no prime vestige anywhere. It would have manifested by that point if it was going to. He sighed and then looked at the others. The party acted as if nothing had happened, entirely focusing on their fight. For a brief moment, he even thought that they hadn¡¯t noticed he was in trouble. However, as their final opponent fell, they instantly turned around, sprinting toward him. Ah¡­ he thought, finally realizing something. They had noticed. But they focused on ending the fight first. A wise decision. As expected of professionals. ¡°Are you alright!?¡± Theodore asked, rushing forward. ¡°Don¡¯t move! People often get injured without realizing it¡­¡± he said, trailing off as he carefully checked his clothing for cuts, tears, or any signs that he was bleeding anywhere. Once he confirmed what Freddy already knew¡ªthat he hadn¡¯t gotten struck anywhere¡ªthe man closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. Before Freddy could even finish asking himself why the man was doing that, Petra stepped up to the man and slapped the absolute shit out of him, ¡°What the fuck is wrong with you!?¡± she screamed. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you check the trees!?¡± she demanded, furious at the man¡¯s apparent slip-up. Indeed. With the light affinity, he should have several ocular and scouting abilities. It was his job to ensure that something like this didn¡¯t happen. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± was all the man could say. He looked distressed, and Freddy caught the man glancing at him warily, only to tear his gaze away immediately after meeting his eyes. He must have felt guilty about his error. ¡°Shit, man¡­¡± Robert said, staring at the deviant¡¯s corpse and raising an eyebrow. ¡°What the hell did you hit this thing with?¡± ¡°Flowing Strike,¡± he eked out with a pained groan. "I landed a pretty good one but put too much weight on my leg," he lied as he prepared to get up. He did not land a good one. In fact, he mistimed it pretty drastically, and the only thing that saved him was the fact that it had two stars of power behind it. The pain in his leg had significantly subsided, but he was still visibly favoring his other foot. The lifesteal had offset a lot of the damage, which helped hide the extent of the backlash he had suffered. ¡°Wait,¡± Petra said. ¡°Take it easy.¡± She approached him and placed an arm on the thigh of his injured leg. A soothing pulse entered his body, and he immediately realized what the woman was doing. It was a healing ability. For any form of long-term healing, the life affinity was vastly superior. But when it came to first aid, water had the upper hand. It could undo internal bleeding with ease and help set things straight. Although it was rather soothing to the touch, as soon as the ability stopped, the pain returned, utterly undiminished. He pretended he felt great relief and simply endured the pain, acting as if it wasn¡¯t a big deal. It was easy to convince them. Nobody there believed he was a two-star, and a normal Flowing Strike should by no means cause an injury as severe as the one he had suffered. They gathered the bodies in silence. They insisted that he should take it easy this time, but he demanded to carry most of the load, using his ¡®regeneration talent¡¯ as an argument for why they didn¡¯t need to worry. Ultimately, he ended up carrying the three guards they had taken down. Although he still felt great pain, it was by no means debilitating. On their way back, they walked past several other parties. Nobody said anything throughout their journey. Once they stepped back through the passage, they offloaded the bodies and sat down to wait. The payment for the regular gorels was quickly and easily calculated. They weighed the bodies and assessed the damage to valuable parts. As for the deviant, it was put up for auction on one of the ethernet channels, where it waited for only five minutes. There were numerous individuals whose entire job was to retrieve deviant corpses from such auctions. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. He was given a slip. He looked at it and quickly noticed it was a receipt. The paper listed the number of bodies retrieved, both workers and guards, the average value per kilogram, and had a separate part where it just said ¡°deviant x 1.¡± In the end, the total payment they received as a party was¡­ nine thousand one hundred dollars. What proceeded was an absolute gutting of that number. First, there was the fifty percent fee. Jesus Christ¡­ he called internally. But that was the price of delving into ¡°free¡± public passages. Then, it deduced the ninety percent that went to his party members and, from the sum that remained, five percent for taxes. Apparently, that was it. As a two-star, that was all the taxes he had to pay. Ultimately, the number at the bottom of his receipt was four hundred and thirty-seven dollars. Before he could think much on it, the others approached him. ¡°Hey¡­¡± Beatrice called. ¡°We talked about it, and as an apology, we¡¯d like to give you the money for the deviant corpse. You¡¯ve earned it, and it¡¯s this idiot¡¯s¡±¡ªshe punched Theodore in the arm¡ª¡°mistake that you had to fight in the first place.¡± He stared at them, briefly looking at the paper in his hand. Indeed, that was nearly two thousand dollars, but¡­ his eyes yet again flickered to the final amount he would be paid. Four hundred and thirty-seven dollars¡­ the number bounced around in his head, rolling around like a dirty stone on his tongue as he quietly mouthed the words. He was conflicted. There was a part of him screaming in elation. By all means, that money had been easy to make. What happened to him with the deviant was an implausible scenario, to the point where he was starting to think he might be genuinely cursed. And even then, he had walked away without suffering real damage; even his equipment was unscathed. But there was another part of him. A part that wanted more. A beast who had hungered all his life now drooled liberally as a massive pile of food appeared before its eyes. ¡°I can¡¯t accept that,¡± he said, rejecting them. Just as they were about to argue, he raised an arm and said, ¡°In return for that mistake, I¡¯d like something else.¡± They eyed him patiently. ¡°I would like to repeat this a few more times,¡± he requested. ¡°I¡¯ve learned much today, and if you could show me around and teach me all you know about delving here, at least until I find a more permanent solution, I¡¯d really appreciate it.¡± Suddenly, Theodore asked, ¡°How about you join our party?¡± he offered a bit too eagerly. He laughed at that awkwardly. He had already half-expected to be given an offer like that, so he used the response he prepared, ¡°You guys already have a rather balanced composition; adding me would be¡ª¡± ¡°Thirty percent,¡± Theodore said, not even blinking. ¡°Excuse me?¡± ¡°If you join us, I¡¯d be willing to pay you thirty percent of all we earn.¡± That was¡­ an extremely generous offer. To the point where he was sure the man was getting some strange idea. ¡°Listen,¡± he said. ¡°I got pretty lucky dealing with that deviant. I can hardly say that¡¯s representative of my¡ª¡± ¡°Fifty percent,¡± the man offered. Everyone around him stared at him with wide eyes, but nobody said anything to stop him. They had complete faith in their leader and likely a good reason to believe he was making an educated decision. Uh-oh, Freddy thought, suddenly keenly aware that the man might not be as misguided as he believed him to be. Theodore glanced around. ¡°Let¡¯s move to the sofas upstairs.¡± So they did. Once they sat down, Theodore sat beside him. ¡°I am the leader of our group for several reasons,¡± he said. ¡°The biggest of which is my talent. With a glance at most living creatures, I can see the relative threat they pose as an aura of sorts.¡± Freddy froze. The man continued, ¡°When I look at you, I see¡­¡± he took a long look at him. ¡°Nothing. Absolutely nothing,¡± he said. ¡°That was why you caught my attention. Usually, those invisible to my talent either have a talent preventing me from perceiving such information or expensive equipment doing the same thing. I don¡¯t believe you have either, yet I still can¡¯t see what you¡¯re worth.¡± Numerous thoughts spun through his mind, but he simply waited, not showing any of his turbulence outwardly. Thankfully, his face was hidden. ¡°Now, I would be a liar if I said I knew everything about my talent,¡± the man said. ¡°But I think that the reason why I can¡¯t see your worth is because my talent simply can¡¯t determine it. You¡¯re an unpredictable variable, something that can¡¯t be measured through straightforward means. You probably have very situational abilities or thrive under particular circumstances. I¡¯ve encountered something like that already once before.¡± That was precisely the case. Under the right circumstances, he could defeat an elite four-star archhuman¡ªan unbelievable feat. But in a straightforward duel? He wasn¡¯t even sure whether he could stand up to an average two-star warrior. Hell, he''d probably struggle against elite one-stars with his lack of skill. ¡°I have some fun theories of who you might be or what you¡¯re doing here,¡± the man continued. ¡°But in any case, I have no doubt that you¡¯re talented. In fact, I¡¯d bet anything that you¡¯re far stronger than any of us. When I say join the party, what I¡¯m really saying is we¡¯ll all support you. I¡¯ll even sign an NDA if you want to keep your abilities a secret. What do you say?¡± the man said, keeping firm eye contact as he waited for the answer. That was a good offer. An excellent one, in fact. But this didn¡¯t sit well with him. This man was cunning, ambitious, and decisive. He had been acting with an ulterior motive and, in hindsight, had been trying to get a read on his abilities from the very start. ¡°I apologize, but I¡¯d like to continue as a helper,¡± he said. ¡°I see¡­¡± Theodore said, sighing. ¡°I¡¯ve already arranged to have the money for the deviant sent to your account,¡± he added. ¡°So you can¡¯t refuse that much.¡± He gave him a cheeky wink. Freddy laughed at that. ¡°Thank you. I really appreciate it.¡± ¡°And I want to say sorry again.¡± Theodore sagged. ¡°I promise something like that won¡¯t happen next time.¡± *** Theodore watched Liam Johnson get up and walk away. Rubbing his hands and biting his fist, he sighed. ¡°Do you think he¡¯d agree if I offered 70%?¡± he asked the others. ¡°What did you see?¡± Beatrice asked knowingly. He hadn¡¯t lied. He honestly couldn¡¯t see the man¡¯s aura. Not until he saw the man fight. That deviant hadn¡¯t been a coincidence. Of course he had seen it. Even camouflaged, that creature couldn¡¯t hide its aura from him. But it wasn¡¯t like he was trying to kill Liam. The entire time, he had had Piercing Ray and enough essence prepared to intervene in case the man needed saving. He just wanted to test him. If his hunch was correct, Liam was the son of someone powerful. Many families sent their kids off to fight and make their way up themselves rather than coddling them with unlimited resources and privileges. Getting someone like that on their team, even temporarily, could drastically boost their standing and finances. At that moment, however¡­ In the second Liam swung his leg to strike the deviant. He saw it. The aura. ¡°Pitch black,¡± he said to the others, feeling tingles running down his spine as he vividly recollected the sight. ¡°It was violent and roiling, like an electrified fire, and it manifested into a large image of a dripping skull peering directly into my soul. I¡¯ve never seen that happen in my life,¡± he said, whimpering slightly. ¡°We need to get that man on our team. Even if we have to beg him to join.¡± *** Freddy made his way back to his apartment. When he stepped inside, he quickly regretted having bought so many complex layers of armor. All of it needed to be carefully taken off and washed. Thankfully he had the water affinity¡ªwithout it, drying his clothes would be a nightmare. His dinner was a dozen scrambled eggs and white bread, and as soon as he ate, he went to the room, lying on the bed. Although it had mostly recovered, he still felt hints of pain in his hip. How the hell had that strike hurt him so badly? Even with all the lifesteal¡­ It was concerning. Very concerning. The first thought that came to mind was that it was Abyssal Depths. And he was probably right. He had already regained the progress he had lost¡ª30% extra weight. That was around the maximum value of stage zero Abyssal Depths. Utilizing that much excess water with Flowing Strike and even using two stars¡­ He had felt it. It was as if a siphon had been directly connected to his essence pool, draining a shocking amount on just that one ability. The more mass in his body, the more essence Flowing Strike would consume. After all, it had more water to move. He had decided to use Abyssal Depths haphazardly, and the more time passed, the more he began to assume that he had made a mistake. It was well past the time for him to get his abilities in order. Now that he was properly delving, he needed to know what all he was capable of. Money wouldn¡¯t be a problem, either. It was time to join a training compound. Chapter 56 - Living Weapon The apartment Freddy was living in was a five-minute walk away from the hub. And given that the entire district was built around the hub and the passages within, that meant that he was a five-to-ten-minute walk away from everything. In fact, the training center closest to where he lived was only two minutes away¡ªall he had to do to get there was leave the building and walk down the street. All told, added with what he earned earlier that day, he only had another twenty-seven thousand dollars. With the exorbitant rent and belief that it would be wise to have some savings, he had decided against paying for a membership when he first moved in. After all, the monthly membership here was over ten thousand dollars a month. There were many cheaper ones around, but they were severely under equipped compared to this establishment, at least according to the ads for this place. As he stepped before the mega-gym, he blinked. The outside of this place had the gaudiest, most ostentatious facade he had ever witnessed. The entire surface was plated in gems, gold, and art, mostly of powerful-looking warriors and stuff. It was such a childish exterior that he was utterly bemused. The ads had been wack enough, but this¡­ Still, from what little conversation he had overheard, people only had good things to say about this place. Well, mostly. Sighing, he walked inside. The first thing that caught his attention was the noise. It was loud; groaning, yelling, smashing, and cracking echoed throughout the building. In contrast, there was no smell at all. It was as if the air was totally pure, leaving a dizzying sensory void in contrast to the smelly city outside. The interior caught him by surprise. First, there was none of the opulence here, replaced by the clinical, cold white of the walls and gray of the ceiling and floor, with only the wooden reception desk and, further down the hallway to the left, the red, synthetic cushions on the workout machines, as well as the people using them, standing out. The inside wasn¡¯t as open as he expected; it was segmented into distinct areas, with numerous pointers and area markers noting which paths down the hallways took where. The male receptionist didn¡¯t even look at him as he walked inside; he seemed busy writing something. So, he approached him. ¡°Hi,¡± he greeted. The man looked up briefly. ¡°Hello, welcome to the Santorio Training Center,¡± the man said dryly. ¡°Is this your first time here?¡± he asked, briefly glancing at the gloves he was wearing to conceal his rings. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯d like to get a membership,¡± he answered. The man handed him a paper. It seemed to be a short contract. It took all the will he could muster not to curse at the absurd pricing. Apparently, that whole ¡°prices start at ten thousand dollars a month¡± thing was a cheap marketing trick. Because while prices did indeed begin there¡­ That wasn¡¯t where they ended. ¡®Ten thousand dollars a month, and I get to come here only once a week!?¡¯ he screamed internally, unable to wrap his head around what he saw. He had no idea what the hell kind of equipment these people had, but there was no way that it was worth this much. ¡°Uhm¡­¡± he started, frowning and glancing at the man while preparing to ask what warranted such a price. Rather than let him speak, the man simply rolled his eyes and sassily handed him a small catalog. It was a detailed guide on what each tier provided and all the services one could get at the training center. ¡°Uh¡­ Thanks,¡± he thanked the man, grabbed the catalog, and walked away, sitting on a small bench beside the gym''s entrance. As soon as he started analyzing the pricing, he cringed. For several reasons. First, what the hell was up with this naming convention? The tiers were Knight, Baron, Viscount, Earl, Marquess, and Duke. Talk about pretentious. And the prices were absurd! Knight was ten thousand, Baron was twenty thousand, Viscount was thirty, Earl was fifty, Marquess was a hundred thousand dollars, and the Duke tier cost two hundred thousand dollars a month. Massive discounts were provided for those who purchased yearly memberships, which was probably precisely what this pricing aimed at. Still, even then, Duke cost a staggering million dollars a year. Taking a deep breath, he sighed and looked at the benefits. All that the Knight membership provided was access to the facility once a week. More specifically, it offered three hours of access to the workout equipment area, a measly ten minutes in the gathering chambers, fifteen minutes in the ability testing area, and twenty minutes in the combat simulation room. As for what the areas other than the workout equipment area even were, he had no idea. There were extra benefits further down the list, given to higher ranks, with Duke simply saying ¡°unlimited access to all facilities.¡± Rather than dwell on it much, he got up, awkwardly returned the catalog, and walked out. While he was hella curious about what the testing area and combat simulation chambers were, he wasn¡¯t ten-thousand-dollars-a-month curious. Not yet. The cost-effectiveness of paying for a membership here wasn¡¯t worth it. Instead, he made his way down to another gym, one that was about five minutes away from his apartment, and entered. Ten minutes later, he angrily stomped out. As for why he was furious, it was simple¡ªthey had rejected his application! Apparently, this gym wasn¡¯t accepting two-star archhumans; they legally weren¡¯t allowed to because their equipment wasn¡¯t up to the standards two-stars required. It made sense. If a barbell snapped under the sort of weight a powerful two-star could handle, it could lead to severe injury. Hell, even death. But that was the second time he was barred from accessing something just because he was a two-star. There was something to be said about that. Soon enough, he reached the gym that was fifteen minutes away from his place, but whatever, he just needed a damn place to lift and punch something. Although it was much cheaper than Santorio, Tackman¡¯s gym was still a pricey thousand dollars monthly for full access. As for its interior, it heavily reminded him of that place he and Mark had trained at. There were slight differences, however. While that place had catered more to non-combat archhumans, this was made for warriors. The first floor was nearly identical, but the second floor, other than the section with dummies, had an entire area added for practicing parkour, with many monkey bars, ropes, and obstacle courses several people trained at with impressive skill. As for the third floor, it was similarly oriented toward cardio and endurance exercises, but other than treadmills, there was also a rock-climbing course and a pool that could simulate raging waters. If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. He signed up and headed to the crowded locker room, ignoring the several half-naked men. Unfortunately, this place wasn¡¯t quite as fancy as Kargon. There were no free gym clothes. He cursed under his breath but resigned to his fate. Not a big deal. He was already wearing casual clothing anyway, and it wasn¡¯t the end of the world if he got a bit sweaty. Once he stepped out into the gym, his mood instantly changed. It made him¡­ nostalgic. In that brief instant, he returned to a simpler time, a place where an innocent, young kid trained to look good for a show. That person was long dead. In his stead, a bitter soul walked out. He had just realized he had no way to use his talent. There were no convenient flesh blobs in his gym bag, nor was there a forest he could eco-terrorize. He¡¯d have to do something about that. For the time being, however, that wasn¡¯t a priority. Walking up to the second floor, he faced the dummies. A few people were already using them, and as far as he could see, none of them could hit quite as hard as he could. The dummies themselves were roughly man-shaped constructs of solid material, but he wasn¡¯t sure exactly how tough they were. Then, he walked back down and looked for a staff member. He asked the man how much those dummies could handle, and the man simply said that he was only forbidden from using external abilities. No throwing fireballs or stabbing them, and even at two-star power, he should be fine. Good. He walked back up to the second floor. The sounds of the people around him were an unwelcome distraction. Several men and women were using the dummies beside him, throwing punches and kicks enhanced by all sorts of internal abilities. A fire-affinity woman was using the Ignited Muscle technique. It was an ability that boosted one¡¯s physical prowess by artificially speeding up the metabolism. It could be compared to Hydraulic Flex because it triggered in the muscles that were being used. The key difference was that this version was easier to use than Hydraulic Flex and more powerful but also consumed far more essence. It also exhausted the user far faster. How it looked externally, however, was entirely different. Sweat evaporated off her red skin, and he could feel the heat from where he was. Her punches and kicks landed with a solid thump, and their speed was impressive. Right beside her was an earth-affinity man using Tectonic Strike. This ability was similar to Flowing Strike but had one key difference. There was no need to time it. It simply added momentum to the attacks. Conversely, it was far inferior to a perfectly timed Flowing Strike, but it was so much more consistent that it compensated more than enough for that discrepancy. On Freddy¡¯s other side was another man, this time an air-affinity arch. He raised an eyebrow at the fact that all four elements were arranged side by side. A fun coincidence. As for this man, he was using Wind Strike¡ªa simple ability that used the air around one¡¯s limbs to boost their speed. As for its power, it was by far the weakest of the four elements, but it was unrivaled in agility. More often than not, it was used paired with a weapon. Well then. It was time for him to fill in the missing link. He got into a stance. It was nothing special. Frankly, if someone who had trained in actual martial arts saw him, they¡¯d probably ridicule him. With his current body, he estimated his base weight to be around seventy-five kilograms¡ªwith Abyssal Depths, he was at almost a hundred. He took a look at his two stars. They were fully topped off. Pulling his fist back, he used Flowing Strike. After much practice, as long as his target was stationary, he could time Flowing Strike without much difficulty. His arm stretched out, carrying the compound momentum of the wave moving through his body. Just as all the force gathered at the end, his knuckles met the dummy¡¯s torso. The impact made a thud, causing the people around him to jump in surprise at the sudden noise. He pulled his fist back and swung it again. The dummy¡¯s torso deformed under his strikes, but it was designed to do that. It would go back after he was done. One strike after another depleted his reserves, and by the end, he had used all of his essence. Fourteen Flowing Strikes. That was all he could muster. That wasn¡¯t much. It was far too few, actually, but he wasn¡¯t surprised to see that. He stepped away, walking to the middle of the room, and sitting down. He dove into his ethercosm. He saw his two dim and pale stars there, with only the red ring around his first glowing brightly. Added together, his total essence capacity was at around 110%. That meant that a single Flowing Strike consumed a bit under 8% of his total reserves. At this moment, he couldn¡¯t help but ask himself¡ªwas using Abyssal Depths with Flowing Strike a mistake? With each new star, archhumans could double their essence output. But their total capacity only increased by one more star, and that was at the peak. Freddy could double the essence expenditure, but, at the moment, he only had a bit more essence than a peak one-star. At the start of the third star, this would get much worse. Quadruple output, but only 210%. Once he gained four stars, it would be Octuple output but 310%. It wasn¡¯t like there were no ways around this. Equipment, such as the ring on his finger, could work to reduce expenditure, and there were also satellites, but he was far too poor to even dream about getting one of those. He bit his lip. With every bit of extra weight, Flowing Strike would become more expensive. With every star, that price would double. He had no delusions about his talent as a martial artist. He had the power, but his mastery over it was¡­ underwhelming, to say the least. And it wasn¡¯t like Flowing Strike was an easy ability to use. At his current trajectory, that ability was becoming more and more of a trump card. While he could use it fourteen times, it was far from his only ability, and with two extra affinities, it would only get more competition. Soon enough, he could only afford to use it a few times; he had to be confident in his ability to land it. Otherwise, he would be throwing away a good chunk of his reserves for no reason. Things only got worse with doubling his essence output. The more his Abyssal Depths grew, the more the ability would cost. When he became a three-star, he could see the ability reaching as much as 30% essence expenditure. Quadrupling that number would make for an ultimate move, not something one would throw around willy-nilly in combat. At four stars? Shit, he could possibly go over 200% of total output. But at that point, the ability might make his entire arm explode under the stress. He had swaggered into most of his choices regarding his path, but now that he could take his time and think things through, he was beginning to realize that his foundation was all over the place. It was practically a miracle that he managed to develop a Hydraulic Flex and upgrade his Hundred Wet Hells¡ªand speaking of which, Thousand Wet Hells was something he had little confidence in using yet. The few times he tried, he genuinely nearly died. There was also the still-undeveloped shell for Pressure Jet. He would have to think deeply about whether that was even worth working on. But that was for later. Now, he had to decide whether to continue developing Abyssal Depths and using Flowing Strike. It was a lethal combo. But it came at a cost. Honestly, he really wanted to keep it and just see where it took him. He could technically just work on Abyssal Depths up to a point and stop when he was happy with his weight, but that wasn¡¯t an optimal solution. At that point, it would be better to undo Abyssal Depths and start working on Flowing River. Those two tempering techniques couldn¡¯t be used simultaneously because they clashed in their function. Both aimed to compress water¡ªone into channels and the other just in general. The other solution would be to drop Flowing Strike and rely on Hydraulic Flex in combat. That wasn¡¯t an option he wanted to choose. Hydraulic Flex just wasn¡¯t as good for unarmed combat as Flowing Strike was. Sighing, he closed his eyes. He tried gathering, but the air was void of water wisps, as was to be expected in a place with so many archhumans. Instead, he manually collected some of the loose wisps he could get his projection¡¯s scythe on and returned to reality when he had enough essence. He approached the dummy again. Focusing on his core, both his stars lit up, and he swung his fist. The Flowing Strike landed with a deafening bang that shook the floor beneath his feet. The people beside him once more eyed him strangely, and they made some distance this time. He gritted his teeth as he stepped away once more. He slowly peeled the glove off. His arm hurt like hell. The veins along his forearm had bulged, turning purple; the skin on his knuckles was slightly darker, and he was clearly suffering from internal injuries, including cracked bones. It was already this bad at just 16% output. Just how much worse would it get later? Taking a deep breath, he clenched his injured fist, basking in the pain. Was he really prepared to walk down this path? Maybe not. But he lost nothing if he just gave it a try. The training he would have to undergo to make this combo usable would be utterly hellish, incomparable to anything he had done up until that point. But he had his talent. He had both Leviathan''s Fury and Blood Sacrifice. And an affinity he hadn¡¯t touched yet. An affinity considered unrivaled in making one¡¯s body into a living weapon. Chapter 57 - Motion Ethereal mercy. It was a phenomenon that single-handedly made most abilities possible. The supernatural recovery from ether backlash was the only reason tempering techniques even existed, and some affinities, like fire or death, would be utterly unusable without it. Freddy carefully observed how his arm recovered from the Flowing Strike he had used against the dummy. The cracked bone, burst veins, torn muscle¡ªit all slowly reverted, almost as if time itself was being rewound. After not even a few hours, it healed. But he felt it. Consequences still remained. He had grown used to having a practically perfect body, and now, even the tiniest of imperfections stood out. For a while at least, he would have to live with them. During the time he had been recovering, he had made a quick trip to a nearby library. The clerk had eyed him and his clearly severe arm injury with a curious expression on their face, but it wasn¡¯t like it was an uncommon sight in the world of archhumans. As for what he went to get, it was a book, of course. It cost him only a few hundred dollars. As for what it was, it was much like the guide for water abilities he purchased back in the private neighborhood, just way less fancy¡ªThe Blood Affinity: A Comprehensive Guide for Beginners. There were no ether imprints, essence flow guides, moving pictures, or anything other than plain, boring text. And for a good reason. He was done using crutches like that for his development. The more an archhuman developed their power, the greater the need for a unique understanding of their affinities and the synergy with their talent. One day, he might stumble upon an interesting, promising idea for a tempering technique. But it would hold no value if he couldn''t develop it himself. As he paid the bill, he walked into a quiet corner of the library, sat between two dusty bookshelves covering old history, and started reading. The book was enlightening in many ways. He didn¡¯t get too far into it, but he quickly learned what he needed to get started. First was the Pool of Blood tempering technique. This was the ability that was effectively the foundation of the entire affinity. Without it, in all but the most peculiar cases, using one¡¯s blood as a weapon was virtually impossible. Ethereal Mercy did apply to blood loss due to using the affinity, but it couldn¡¯t stop that blood loss from killing the user. In came the Pool of Blood tempering technique. It was an ability quite similar to Abyssal Depths, with one key difference. While Abyssal Depths worked to compress liquid into the body, Pool of Blood aimed to increase the volume. At stage zero, it was called Puddle of Blood; it dilated the veins and could increase the overall volume of blood by around 25%. That was very little. So little, in fact, that blood archs were considered virtually useless before upgrading the ability to stage one¡ªwhen it officially turned into Pool of Blood. The key difference at stage one was that the ability conjured something akin to dimensional storage inside a blood arch¡¯s heart through concepts like internal storage or increased capacity. While Abyssal Depths worked in increments of 30%, the blood capacity of the Pool of Blood grew exponentially. First, it was 25% at Puddle of Blood, then doubled at Pool of Blood, quintupled at Lake of Blood, and, finally, at Sea of Blood, it could increase up to twenty times in capacity. The book only speculated on what the fourth stage looked like since the only people who could even get stage four abilities had to be at least elite four-star archhumans, and few among them readily shared the secrets of their abilities. As for using both Abyssal Depths and Puddle of Blood, there should be no issues with that. Interestingly enough, the abilities wouldn¡¯t interact at all. It wasn¡¯t as if there were no cases of tempering techniques from two different affinities clashing, but it wasn¡¯t as common as within a single affinity. Reading further, he discovered that the blood affinity had what could be roughly defined as three main paths, barring peculiar exceptions. All three paths were determined by a single tempering technique, and since they all aimed to change the properties of the blood within the arch¡¯s body, only one could be picked. Rich Blood, Red Venom, and Crimson Mercury were the three primary tempering techniques of the blood affinity. Rich Blood made one¡¯s blood, well, rich. It enabled incredible physical performance through Blood Rush, an ability that consumed one¡¯s blood for a power boost. It was a rather one-note path, but it wasn¡¯t a bad one. Its potency couldn¡¯t be reasonably compared to water and earth affinity when it came to overall utility for martial arts, but when it came to raw strength and endurance, it was the best there was as far as basic affinities were concerned. It was also the path that held the most compatibility with taming monsters through blood pacts. But that was rather rare to see, even if most people tried it if they got the opportunity to. Red Venom turned one¡¯s blood incredibly toxic, starting with just making it poisonous, then acidic, then necrotic, and, ultimately¡­ explosive. Which seemed out of place, but it fit the path perfectly. This was the most popular path for most blood archs, as it focused on casting and long-ranged abilities. Such routes were generally more popular, as few people wanted to get close and personal with the things they were fighting. And, finally, Crimson Mercury, which was also the path that Janhalar had been following. As for this tempering technique, one¡¯s blood became metallic, making it incredibly easy to coagulate into weapons or projectiles. It could be used pretty well at both short and long range. As for which ability he would take¡­ he was partial to Rich Blood. It synergized the best with his style. It even stated in the book that the choice was a trendy one when coupled with another affinity since it greatly simplified the path of blood, reducing it to a single tempering technique and only one core ability. Of course, most who only went down that one path had other abilities, too, but when one had several affinities to work with, it was best to keep one as their primary and the others as secondary, lest they overburden themselves with too many undeveloped skills. But¡­ he wondered. Red Venom was definitely too beside the point for his current path unless he wanted to fully respec himself as a caster, but there was a solid argument for him to go with Crimson Mercury¡ªit was the most essence-efficient. True, Rich Blood sounded great. But Blood Rush¡ªthe core ability of the path¡ªwhile really powerful, was an essence-guzzler like no other. Crimson Mercury, on the other hand, mainly relied on weapon-conjuring abilities. The blood itself became like metal; thus, shaping it into the form of a weapon didn¡¯t require all that much essence, just a relatively small burst to make it coagulate. But that had a whole different problem¡ªwhich weapon would he use? Weapons weren¡¯t really his thing since he never quite had a teacher, formal education, or any other opportunity to learn how to use one. The choice wasn¡¯t easy. But for the time being, there was no need to rush. Once his arm healed, he started walking back to the gym. On his way there, he suddenly remembered something. Taking a quick moment to dive into his soul, he consulted his good friend Bloodshed on what he should do. ¡°You should temper your blood into a metal,¡± it advised immediately. He raised an eyebrow at that. ¡°Why?¡± Naturally, he appreciated the spirit¡¯s advice but was curious about its reasoning. ¡°The dagger you possess,¡± it started, ¡°its power will transfer into any weapon you conjure as long as you¡¯re holding it.¡± That made him pause. ¡°Seriously!? Will it still work if I turn those weapons into projectiles?¡± ¡°No, it will not,¡± the spirit clarified. That did suck a bit. He still vividly recalled the spears that Janhalar had thrown at him during their fight. That was a damn powerful ranged attack, and it depended on one¡¯s physical strength, which was a massive advantage of his. It wasn¡¯t like he still couldn¡¯t do something like that, but it was a bummer that the boost only applied to weapons he was still holding. "Is there any other reason you want me to go with that path?" he asked, just in case. Basing his choice on a single weapon that wasn''t even unique wasn''t the greatest long-term decision. "I can only advise you on the best path if you wish to spill more blood," it said. "I have no input on anything else." ¡°Fair enough," he said. Although he could eventually lose the dagger, just knowing that the effects of weapons like that could translate to weapons he conjured was enough to elevate Crimson Mercury in his eyes. There was still the question of exactly what weapon he would use if he decided to go down that route, so he decided to mull it over some longer. He didn¡¯t have to make a choice until he finished Puddle of Blood. With his injury nearly gone, he walked back to the gym. Then, he started his workout. He eased himself into it, sticking to a bit below his previous best. As always, he first thoroughly warmed up, then prepared to bench, squat, and deadlift. It wasn¡¯t a wise schedule for anyone who couldn¡¯t swiftly recover from such exercise, and the risk of getting injured was relatively high, but training full body every day was something he was comfortable with. He first started with the bench, setting the weight to 120 kgs, around twenty below his previous maximum. He had lost much muscle mass and wouldn¡¯t risk it by overestimating himself. As soon as he placed his hands on the barbell, he could tell¡ªthis was going to be light. And once he pushed, he confirmed it. In fact, it was so easy that he dropped the set halfway through it and added another 10 kgs. Again, it was too easy. If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. So he added another ten. And another. And once again, another. By the time he was benching 180 kgs, he was just starting to feel the burden. In the end, he did ten reps at 200 kgs, and he didn¡¯t push himself further because the previous test sets had exhausted him. Feeling quite confident, he started the squat at 200 kgs. In the end, he did 250. As for the deadlift, he did 300. Neither of those felt quite there yet for the most he could do, and he could knock out 10 reps without even breaking a sweat. ¡°This is insane,¡± he muttered under his breath. How the hell did he possess such monstrous strength? By all means, he should definitely be weaker than he had been at his peak, but it didn¡¯t feel like that was the case. And the fact that he was a two-star wasn¡¯t a valid explanation, either. He was still at the beginning, far from realizing the full potential of his improved physique. With every subsequent exercise, he tested himself as he inched closer to what he felt was his limit. While he wasn¡¯t the strongest person in that gym¡ªfar from it¡ªhe was definitely above the common rabble. And this was just the beginning. He ended his workout in a pretty solid mood. Once he returned home, he showered, ate two dozen very-hard-boiled eggs and a massive pot of overcooked potatoes, and went to bed. When he woke up the following day, he started his new daily routine. First, he got into his gear, then he went out to the hub. There, he joined Theodore¡¯s party and worked as their helper. After that was finished, he went to the gym. He first trained his abilities, working on growing Flowing Strike and Hydraulic Flex. As soon as he exhausted his essence, he worked his muscles and used the breaks between sets to dive into the Netherecho and recover his essence. Once done with that, he returned home. Back home, he worked on Puddle of Blood. Surprisingly, it only took him a single day to perfect the shell. It was pretty easy to do, actually. All he had to do was synchronize an essence pulse with his heartbeat, temporarily spiking his blood pressure and stretching his cardiovascular system. While it caused a killer headache, compared to the difficulty of creating Hydraulic Flex and the pain of using Hundred Wet Hells, it was child¡¯s play to develop. Given that it had been surprisingly easy, he slotted the tempering technique right into his regular schedule. He hadn¡¯t made up his mind on the path he would take, so he postponed the decision further until he could upgrade Puddle of Blood to Pool of Blood. First, he briefly used Adaptive Water Body. Then, he worked on Abyssal Depths and Puddle of Blood, replenishing his essence reserves between every session. Eventually, he felt that he had done enough, so he ended the day by doing some plain old gathering. While the ether density in Nova York at large was quite great, that didn¡¯t mean that there were all that many wisps to go around. There weren¡¯t even any vestiges in his apartment. It made sense. Countless archhumans lived in this part of Nova York; all of them had to gather. In the end, all he could settle for were loose wisps of miscellaneous advanced affinities that didn¡¯t have enough archhumans around to suck them up. As expected of a city, glass, metal, rust, fabric, and wood were the most common. Although he hadn¡¯t thought much about it until then, he realized that he was growing incredibly slowly. That was highly concerning. Given his relatively recent achievements, shouldn¡¯t he have been blazing through the early stages of his second star? It was a problem that bothered him enough to walk out of his apartment and go to the library to find an explanation. There, he paid for a membership, allowing him to borrow one book at a time that he could take anywhere. The tier he subscribed to, which gave full access to all basic and intermediate texts, cost 8000 dollars a month, and he spent that much without hesitation. If he came here daily, as he intended to, the membership would pay for itself soon enough. After a bit of browsing, he relatively quickly discovered the explanation for his current problem. This was another one of those things he had heard of but never quite knew what it was¡ªaura. Aura was most easily seen by observing cursed objects in the Netherecho. It was ether taking form by attaching itself to an object. In this case, an archhuman¡¯s soul was the object in question. And this could be seen most easily by observing the inside of the ethercosm. Stars were, in essence, aura constructs. But they weren¡¯t all the aura there was in the soul. There was also latent aura. It could be seen as a counterweight to the star, existing invisibly beneath the surface layer of the soul. It was this form of aura that permitted the growth of a star by acting as a foundation for it. Latent aura grew whenever an archhuman performed a notable feat. Be it creating a powerful object, defeating a mighty enemy, overcoming their limits, consuming a potent treasure, or any other demanding, improbable event. The more latent aura there was, the bigger the star could be. This was why fighting, or at least some form of profession was crucial for developing one¡¯s power. Without the latent aura, growth stagnated and slowed until it stopped altogether. This was also the most significant cause of bottlenecks in an arch¡¯s development. So what happened? Couldn¡¯t his actions so far be counted as pretty incredible? Frankly, given what he had accomplished, he simply couldn¡¯t believe that he was lacking latent aura. But as he read on, he realized that, unfortunately, that was precisely the case. With every ascension, all of the latent aura in the soul was consumed, wiping the slate clean. This wasn¡¯t to say that it was wasted; it actually went into improving one¡¯s talent, which was why many people postponed their ascensions until they could gather enough latent aura to significantly impact the quality and power of their talent. This begged another question¡ª ¡°What!?¡± he scream-whispered into his chin as he angrily scratched his head. If that was the case, shouldn¡¯t his talent have changed far more than it had? So he read on. Eventually, he stumbled across a paragraph that made him raise an eyebrow. Talents are not created equal. Some hold considerably more power than others, and as such, the amount of latent aura required to trigger a significant evolution increases proportionally. If enough latent aura isn¡¯t supplied, the talent will either change minimally¡ªor not at all. After he read this part, he slowly closed the book. A frown hung on his face. He walked all the way back home in silence. As he got ready to go to bed, he couldn¡¯t help but finally ask himself¡ªjust how powerful was 1% Lifesteal? *** The next morning and the rest of the day played out much the same as the last. Wake up, delve, train, temper, gather, read, and sleep. Theodore kept making absurd offers, all of which went ignored. Freddy wasn¡¯t who the party leader thought he was. And frankly, he wanted to break out alone as soon as he was capable of doing so. As for the money, he made some. Most days fluctuated between 200 on the low and 600 dollars on the high end, with few exceptions. Still, he was slightly outearning his spending, and for the time being, that was enough. Not a single time did he encounter a crisis like the one with the deviant. In fact, he was never attacked by anything at all. But a few times, he spotted people suspiciously loitering not too far from where he was guarding the bags. If he hadn¡¯t been there, it was likely that they would try stealing them. Judging by the rumors he heard, this sort of thing was relatively common. The cluttered, dangerous environment of the realm made chasing such thieves difficult, and it made getting away with the crime easier. Numerous times, he had also witnessed the night suddenly turn to day and the day suddenly turn to night. It was terrifying. When the day turned to night in the middle of a battle, that was enough to put most parties in mortal peril. Gorels didn¡¯t need sight; they mainly relied on their other senses, so to them, it was as if barely anything had changed. Thankfully, their party had Theodore, a light-affinity arch who could instantly alleviate the problem by using his ability¡ªScattered Starlight¡ªto throw out numerous floating orbs of light and illuminate the entire battlefield. While it seemed like it shouldn¡¯t be the case, when the night suddenly turned to day, that wasn¡¯t optimal either. It took a few crucial moments for a human¡¯s vision to get used to the sudden change in brightness, which could be pretty disorienting in the middle of a life-or-death scenario. Not even a few days into his work with them, he started carrying the machete around and smacked random plants whenever they delved. When they asked him what he was doing, he refused to elaborate. He wasn¡¯t hurting anyone or doing anything of note, really, so they simply let him be, chalking his behavior up to a strange habit. This was one of many reasons why, as time passed, he grew increasingly distant from the party of six instead of getting closer to them. His weird behavior, Theodore¡¯s persistence, his refusal to show his face, and the gap in power between them that grew more and more obvious as he displayed greater and greater feats of strength fed into a rift that made it clear¡ªit was only a matter of time before they parted ways. His training at the gym progressed smoothly. While he never fully healed with how little he got to swing the machete around, it was more than enough for him to see consistent progress. He grew bulkier. His skinny physique grew rapidly as it caught up to where it used to be. Several times, he had to get his equipment adjusted to suit his growing body. After a while, his Hydraulic Flex finally grew to the peak of stage zero. Rather than rush to upgrade it, he took his time, carefully reading up on abilities and the water affinity to ensure he didn¡¯t make a suboptimal choice. Flowing Strike, on the other hand, didn¡¯t grow at all. He would need to use it in combat more often to see it improve. As for his tempering techniques, Abyssal Depths increased to 40% bonus weight, and Puddle of Blood neared the peak of stage zero. He still hadn¡¯t discovered anything about the mysterious second shell from the perished water affinity. Surprisingly, Adaptive Water Body didn¡¯t change at all. And he knew why after some reading at the library. Evolution was something called a grand concept. Vestiges holding such concepts were rare but nothing too exceptional. Grand concepts only existed as vestiges. They couldn¡¯t grow into remnants. And, as a consequence, any ability upgraded through them¡­ couldn¡¯t grow, either. This wasn¡¯t necessarily a terrible thing, it just meant that the ability did what it did and would always do only that. Abilities upgraded through grand concepts couldn¡¯t be evaluated on a linear power scale as their utility was often miscellaneous. This was the case with Adaptive Water Body, too. Eventually, after following this schedule for a month, he finally reached the peak of Puddle of Blood. He upgraded the ability with a vestige of ¡°inner expansion¡± that he found in the forest while they were resting during one of their delves. And with that, his Puddle of Blood was upgraded to Pool of Blood. It was enough. He knew most of the safer areas in the passage by heart at that point. Although he trained daily, his growth had slowed noticeably, and he stagnated. On that day, as he walked into the hub, he smiled at the slightly disappointed look in Theodore¡¯s eyes as the man said, ¡°Very well. You¡¯ve been the best goddamn helper I¡¯ve ever seen in my life. I¡¯m sure we¡¯ll see you around often enough.¡± Then, with a smile of his own, he cheekily added, ¡°If you ever decide to take that damn mask off, I¡¯d love to take you out for drinks.¡± He chuckled at that. ¡°Maybe one day,¡± he said noncommittally. Then, he waved at everyone else, saying his goodbyes, turned around¡­ headed down the stairs¡­ And started his first-ever solo delve into a passage. *** Three figures stood at the cavern entrance into the ruins of what had once been called Camp Violet. All of them were dressed in expensive combat uniforms, black with hints of dirt-brown camouflage. The first was a tall, blonde, bearded man with a concerned expression. He looked into the mouth of the cave with evident fear in his eyes as a mess of feelings wrestled in his heart. The second was a young man with striking red hair and eyes, with thin lines of crimson making their way down his face. He stood impassive, curiously staring forward. And the third was a woman, her cerulean hair tied back into a practical ponytail. The serious uniform stood in sharp contrast to what she usually wore, but the relaxed smile still hung on her face nonetheless. Finally, after waiting so long for the last of the scouts to abandon this place, they received their opportunity. ¡°Madame,¡± Nahar offered as he gestured with his right arm. ¡°Let us begin.¡± It was time to start their search for Freddy Stern. Chapter 58 - Master Abuser Freddy had focused entirely on growing Puddle of Blood. As he neared its completion, his dilemma was resolved¡ªhe decided to go with Crimson Mercury. There were many reasons to choose it over Rich Blood, but the one that mattered the most to him was the essence efficiency. Although he had made up his mind, he still didn¡¯t have Crimson Mercury and, thus, couldn¡¯t truly use the blood affinity for anything of value. But after a month of observing the party in action and seeing numerous others fighting the gorels, he was confident that he wouldn¡¯t need it either way. Stepping out into the passage realm by himself distinctly differed from being there with the others. Thankfully, it was day, but if anything, that made him anxious, as that meant there was a risk that it would suddenly turn into nighttime at any moment. There was an air of danger and uncertainty; his back felt more exposed than ever before. As soon as he made his way past the beginning of the green zone and stepped out of range of anyone¡¯s sight, he took a small ball out of his storage ring. It was the perception-boosting pill. This thing was quite big, so swallowing it wouldn¡¯t be easy. This was also his first time taking one, and he hoped it wouldn¡¯t cause any problems for him. Still, even if it did, there was always his talent to make those problems disappear. He pulled a bottle out of his rucksack and took the pill. Nothing happened. He looked around, trying to see whether anything about his perception had changed. The path he was walking down had the signature smooth stone beneath his feet and was surrounded by tall, jagged rock formations. The boulders surrounding him were large and looked unstable, with numerous cracks and small protrusions that cupped dead leaves and had patches of grass sprouting scattered around. He observed the moss near the bottom, combing his fingers through its tender, furry surface as he took it in. He didn¡¯t feel much due to his gloves, but he did hear the smooth scraping sound of rugged fabric rubbing against the surface. The changes came slowly, but as they did, they arrived in sudden bursts. The nondescript mossy surface grew clearer, even through the touch of the glove. He jumped back as he suddenly heard metal clashing and gorels screaming. It was distant. So distant that he usually wouldn¡¯t hear anything from that far away. As he backed off and looked around, he found all his senses cranked up. The loamy soil, verdant, fresh gust, and weak notes of burning fur, flowing blood, and rotting corpses filled his nostrils. The sounds in the distance grew increasingly pronounced, and he felt more confident that he could tell which direction they were coming from. There was a party of three¡­ no¡­ a party of four heading down another path just behind the rock formation he stood before. He could hear their armor clanking, the cloth rubbing, and weapons clattering. The stone before him suddenly looked more textured¡ªjust looking at the surface made him keenly aware of which parts were more fragile than others. He gulped. That was¡­ a lot more potent than he expected, in more ways than one. His back and ass were sweating profusely, and he felt severely uncomfortable in his armor. Each imperfection, every bump and turn that didn¡¯t perfectly sit against his sensitive skin, was like a hotspot on the surface of his body, making him shift awkwardly as he tried to make the feeling go away. The back of his head suddenly started hurting, and soon enough, it felt as if drills were piercing his temples. His breathing sped up. A high-pitched buzzing filled his ears. His eyes shifted around involuntarily, making him lose his sense of direction and worsening his dizziness. He swiftly pulled the machete from the storage ring and ran to the closest plant. The poor sapling never knew what hit it. One moment, it was growing up to become a mighty tree; another, it was not. But his wanton slaughter didn¡¯t end there. He cut grass, trampled moss, and brutally plucked flowers from their lofty perch upon the stone walls surrounding him. After a while, the side effects subsided, and he could finally breathe. Thinking back on that man, August, the person who had told him what this medicine was, the man hadn¡¯t actually known what this pill was immediately. He only figured it out after taking a good whiff and analyzing it, likely through his talent. He did say that the medicine was potent. He also clarified that it had severe side effects. But Freddy hadn¡¯t been expecting something this intense. It was possible that these pills either weren¡¯t meant to be consumed this way or that he needed to become at least a three-star to safely take them. Well, that was none of his concern. But it was good to know that he was right to take them somewhere safe where he could remove the side effects. Now that he felt fine, he couldn¡¯t stop a grin from spreading on his face. Their effect was truly magnificent. He got up and continued down the path. Soon enough, he heard rustling. He climbed up a nearby rock and looked in the direction the sound was coming from. Not too far from where he was, right past the rocky formation and inside the woods, a gorel guard was scouting the area, kicking up leaves and sniffing around. He would have never spotted the black fur of the creature lurking in the shadows under normal circumstances. So, without further ado, he started walking toward it. Moving across the uneven rocky areas wasn¡¯t recommended due to the danger of rocks crumbling beneath his feet, which could easily result in a broken leg or two, depending on how unlucky he got. But as he traveled forward, he found it trivial to distinguish between rocks that ¡®seemed¡¯ unstable and ones that didn¡¯t. It was hard to tell exactly what his perception was going off when he sensed this stuff, but he felt pretty confident. Too confident, in fact, as he stepped on a rock that wasn¡¯t entirely stable and nearly tripped as it shifted below his feet. Okay, this pill might have been potent, but it was no perception talent. Naturally, it had limits. So, as he proceeded, he did so with caution. Eventually, he passed the unstable ground, stepped onto firm soil, and walked into the thicker forest beneath the shadowy canopy. He immediately took the flashlight from his storage ring, making it appear in his hand with a quiet popping sound of air rushing out of its way, and turned it on to scout the area for other gorels. He couldn¡¯t hear or see anything else, but the gorel guard was already sniffing the air, clearly having sensed his approach as it shifted around like a hyperactive, bulky dog and checked every direction, wheezing, and growling. Freddy put the flashlight in his left arm, keeping it turned on in case the day suddenly became night, and pulled out the dagger, holding it in his right arm. The weapon was highly menacing, looking jagged and uneven. It was clear that getting stabbed by this thing would leave complex, nasty injuries, and that was likely intentionally done to further attune the weapon to the concept of bleeding. If he was being honest, daggers weren¡¯t his thing. Weapons weren¡¯t his thing in general. But he could easily hold the handle in a reverse grip and still punch stuff. He didn¡¯t have to use the dagger just because he held it in his hand. And there was another thing he had realized. This wasn¡¯t really a weapon. Thinking back on his fight with Janahalar, equipped with the knowledge that it could transfer its effect on any weapons conjured, he quickly realized that the man had never used the dagger directly. In fact, Freddy had barely even realized that the man had been holding the dagger at all. This likely meant that this wasn¡¯t meant to be used to stab but as more of a glorified dagger-shaped wand. With the flashlight and knife both in reverse grips, ready to be used, he stepped forward until the gorel finally pinpointed his position and started running at him. When it reached him, he kicked it, not even using Flowing Strike or Hydraulic Flex. The thing took his foot head-on and was knocked back. As soon as it reoriented itself, he kicked it again, this time in the back of the head. It didn¡¯t get up this time, merely whimpering and howling as he brought his foot down and cracked its neck. A rush of ether flowed into his star, making it grow just a tiny bit. That whole thing about not needing Crimson Mercury? Yeah¡­ After a month of watching others fight these things, he had made an undeniable conclusion. He was way overqualified for this realm. The thing with danger assessments and recommendations was that passage owners aimed to protect themselves legally. ¡°Acceptable risk¡± for a party of one-stars and a beginner two-star meant that if one satisfied that requirement, one was mostly going to be fine unless they really fucked up or got mega unlucky. People still got injured daily because, well, the world had no shortage of idiots aching to seriously fuck something up. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. Even then, his power wasn¡¯t that of an average two-star. Not only did he have great equipment, but he also had fantastic abilities and an honestly overpowered talent. If there was anyone who didn¡¯t need to be afraid to delve here alone, it was him. He picked up the dead, primarily intact gorel and dragged it back. The way there had taken him around twenty minutes of walking, and the way back was roughly the same. When he left it on the counter, with just that, he had already earned almost what his average daily wage had been for the past month. And then he headed back in. For his next prey, he came across three gorel workers dragging branches. He picked up a giant rock. Activating Hydraulic Flex, he threw it with the might of god, smiting one of the poor things before it could even react. The other two hissed and growled, immediately rushing at him. The thing with Gorels was that they had the earth affinity. But these things were dumber than the rocks they should be able to manipulate. As for their essence control, the most they could do was add some momentum to their hits in a sort of quasi-Tectonic Strike. It was important to remember that their attacks could still break human bones like dry twigs. Well, other humans. Not his. As soon as the first one reached him, he used Flowing Strike and slammed it right in its face. The force transference kicked in, sending the chunky worker flying like a football and slamming into a tree twenty meters away. Once the third arrived, he grabbed it by its swinging arm, casually taking the brunt of its strike, picked it up like a toddler, and slammed it back-first against the closest boulder. It wouldn¡¯t be correct to say that he was perfectly safe here. There was always a risk of something going to shit. All it took was one deviant and a bit of arrogance to snuff out any overzealous delver. But¡­ yeah. He had seen enough of this realm. He knew which places were perilous and which parts were to be avoided. As long as he stuck to places slightly off the beaten path, where there weren¡¯t enough gorels for parties to bother, his experience delving would be akin to walking into a kindergarten and beating the ever-living shit out of a bunch of toddlers. He took his backpack off and opened it. The foldable racks he would use to carry the gorel corpses were placed aside as he pulled out a snack. It was bread. In fact, his giant rucksack was mostly just full of bread. Why bread? Because bread was cheap and relatively nutritious. Ever since discovering that powerful talents changed minimally with evolutions, he had taken a much better look at 1% Lifesteal. And, frankly, while he had already known that the talent was powerful, he had still been way underestimating it. Since then, he had had a long month to think things through and read up on supreme-quality healing and just healing in general. As he pulled out a big loaf of bread and took a bite, he pulled out a can of energy drink from a twelve-pack and downed it. For a while already, all he had been eating was bread, and all he had been drinking was either coffee, milk, or energy drinks. Was this a healthy way to live? That simply wasn¡¯t a question he ever had to ask. The concept of healthy living simply didn¡¯t apply to him. He could be drinking pure oil for all he cared, and he¡¯d still be golden. Adaptive Water Body helped a lot with speeding up and improving digestion, and as long as he removed any unhealthy side effects of his stomach terrorism, his diet simply didn¡¯t matter. His month of working as a helper had been incredibly fruitful. Not only had he gotten the opportunity to thoroughly familiarize himself with the realm, but he also got a closer look at how money was actually earned. For the most part, the single biggest profit bottleneck was fatigue. After all, it wasn¡¯t like continuously carrying big-ass monster corpses back and forth was easy. It was tiring, and tired archs were significantly more susceptible to making a critical mistake at the wrong moment. At one time, he saw Kyle take a nasty hit to the knee. The treatment cost the man well over two thousand dollars. The risk just wasn¡¯t worth it. For others, that was. Not for him. He finished drinking the energy drink and took the last bite of the loaf of bread. And, with that, he picked up the bodies, and, this time, he ran while carrying them back. He wasn¡¯t all that tired from the journey, but he downed another energy drink anyway. Then, he returned to the realm and found another small group of worker gorels, kicking them to death and carrying them back again. And then drinking another energy drink. He repeated the same thing over and over. Soon enough, people noticed. ¡°Wasn¡¯t this guy a helper for Theo and his gang?¡± His enhanced perception allowed him to overhear one person ask. ¡°What the hell happened to him?¡± He ran past a group of four on his way out again. They laughed at him, taking a few jabs and saying he¡¯d probably die by the end of the day. Once they saw him haul back eight workers on his back, adding up to a total of fifty-seven for that day, they found themselves without any further comments. And with that, just as he was about to head out again, the day blinked out and night set. In contrast to what many had grown to believe that day, he wasn¡¯t actually a suicidal dumbass. He still felt pretty buzzed from all the energy drinks, but he could tell that his focus was waning. His attention was drifting more and more often. Even though he could heal the consequences of abusing his body, it seemed his brain could only take so much work for one day. As he clocked out for that day, he waited a bit and got his tally. A fat grin spread from ear to ear as he saw the number on his receipt. $12,571. *** ¡°Twelve K¡­ oh yeah, oh yeah, tweeeelve K¡­ Oh yeah, oh yeah,¡± he sang on his way to the gym. ¡°Tweeheeeeeeleleleleve fuuuckin¡¯ K¡­! Ah, ah, ah, twelve mothafuckin¡¯ K! Uh!¡± and continued as he started his work out. A massive plastic container rested beside the bench he was working out on. It was a once-empty milk jug that he had repurposed, filling it to the brim with energy drink that he sipped on as he worked out. He kept singing to himself as he placed his weights on the barbell. After placing 625kgs, he finally started the set. Lifting it once, then twice, he gathered the willpower and strength to push it a third time, finally overcoming his limit. While this was impressive, he hadn¡¯t let it get to his head. After all, Mark could lift more than this, even back when he was a one-star. He really missed that guy sometimes. Still, he was making steady progress, and as long as he kept at it, he¡¯d keep growing. The beast steroids were still in his dimension ring, but he hadn¡¯t gathered the balls to try those. As he moved on from the bench, he went to the squat rack, where he could easily knock out 900 kgs already. ¡°Twelve K, yeah yeah, twelve K, yeah yeah,¡± he kept signing, clearly annoying the guy who was working out near him. But he was in too good of a mood to let that stop him, ¡°Twelve K, yeah yeah, twelve K, yeah yeah, twelve K, yeah yeah, twelve K, yeah yeah,¡± he continued. ¡°Twelve K, yeah yeah, twelve K, yeah yeah, twelve K, yeah yeah, twelve K, yeah yeah,¡± and just kept going. ¡°Twelve K, yeah yeah, twelve K, yeah yeah, twelve K, yeah yeah, twelve K¡­¡± ¡°Will you please shut the fuck up!?¡± the man beside him yelled. ¡°You shithead!¡± ¡°Oh, sorry,¡± he said apologetically. ¡°I wasn¡¯t¡­¡± ¡°What the fuck is wrong with you!? Huh!?¡± the man yelled, getting up and angrily throwing a dumbbell to the ground, rushing at him and getting well into his personal space. ¡°Do that one more time,¡± he threatened while pointing a finger at his face, ¡°and I¡¯ll shove my foot up your ass!¡± ¡°Ok, I¡¯m seriously sorry, and I¡¯ll stop, I promise,¡± he said again, but he really couldn¡¯t stop himself from still smiling. It wasn¡¯t like he felt threatened by this guy. The man, however, clearly didn¡¯t enjoy the look on his face. ¡°Do you have a problem with me?¡± he asked, getting even closer. ¡°Meet me outside, and we¡¯ll fix things up; how¡¯s that sound?¡± ¡°No, I¡¯m¡­¡± he started, suddenly deflating a bit. ¡°What, now you¡¯re scared?¡± ¡°Relax,¡± he insisted. ¡°There¡¯s no need to get violent. I said I¡¯m sorry,¡± he reminded the man, his expression darkening as his right hand twitched. ¡°Stay in your fucking lane, pussy,¡± the man shot one final time as he finally retreated to continue the exercise. He merely shrugged and walked over to the squat rack. There, he took a damn big gulp from his energy jug as he prepared himself for the set. One weight after another went up on the barbell. 300kgs¡­ 400kgs¡­ 500kgs¡­ The man paused a bit as he glanced at what he was doing. 600¡­ 700¡­ 800¡­ 900¡­ 1000¡­ 1100¡­ 1200 kgs. He took yet another gulp from his jug, and he got under the bar. Then, he started the set. He immediately felt like buckling under the insane weight. After all, this was 300kgs above his maximum¡­ when he wasn¡¯t using Hydraulic Flex. As he triggered the ability, it appeared like his load had halved. With all the focus he could muster, he dropped into a low squat and pushed himself back up. His muscles sounded like rubber gloves being stretched to their breaking point, and he did it again, finishing the set on the sixth rep. By the time he put the barbell back on the rack, the guy was nowhere to be found. His body hurt like hell, and he felt thoroughly exhausted. Still, he couldn''t stop chuckling. "That was so worth it." *** After finishing the workout, heading home, and cleaning himself up, Freddy had a massive dinner and decided to rest a bit. He was tired. His body ached due to his dumbassery, and he had no way to use his talent, so he¡¯d have to cope with it. The time gradually passed, and he had to take another energy drink to kick himself back into focus. While he would never grow sick by abusing these things, there seemed to be a limit to the utility. Time gradually passed as a reluctance to do anything seeped into his bones. Soon enough, the clock ticked to 9 p.m. It was already an hour past the time he usually visited the library. That was a good habit he wanted to keep up, so he forced himself to get ready, get up, and walk outside. As he left the building to visit the library, he suddenly changed his mind. That day¡­ frankly, hadn¡¯t he just achieved something he had been dreaming of for the longest time? He had come mighty far from his days back in the small studio apartment, and if that Freddy could see him now, he¡¯d spit in his face. Fuck the library. No nerd shit for that evening. It was time to celebrate, he decided, as he went for a quick shopping trip. A thousand-dollar slim-fit white shirt? Why not? Tacky, honestly ugly torn jeans? They cost two thousand dollars, and the logo of Habuji, a massive luxury clothing company, was front and center. Into the shopping cart they went. Wrapping the trip up with the relatively frugal $500 sneakers, which were a slight backtrack when he realized just how much he was spending, he put the stupidly wasteful clothing on and headed to a place he had been aching to go to for the longest time. It was as if a kaleidoscope of butterflies was fluttering around his heart. He felt nervous and had to psyche himself up. Soon enough, he appeared before the nightclub. And then awkwardly shuffled into the long line. Chapter 59 - Oops Not many people had survived the destruction of Camp Violet. As Mark walked right beside Nahar and Madame, he witnessed its annihilation himself. According to the reports, the camp had been attacked by some form of fire-affinity entity. None of the people who had directly seen what had attacked the camp survived to disclose what it had been. The most prevalent assumption was that it had been some sort of fire-concept-related eidolon, but there was also the worst-case scenario that this had been a deliberate attack, either by some form of human party or an unknown sapient species. Regardless of precisely what happened to the camp, the result was harrowing. The destruction was so thorough and horrible that none of what had been destroyed had been recovered or even cleaned; barely intact corpses littered the premises of what had once been the residential area of the camp. Mark felt his stomach drop as he witnessed the destruction; this was where Freddy had been? Again, he had no idea precisely what Madame was basing the presumption that he was still alive on, but no more thinking about that. All he knew was that she was confident, and they were on a mission to find him. According to the report, a few survivors had managed to hide away in the surrounding caves, but Freddy Stern hadn''t been among them. Madame claimed that he was still alive, and the most likely scenario was that he was hiding in the caverns somewhere. With his talent, surviving even in such conditions wasn¡¯t an unbelievable possibility. Thus, they began their search. For the most part, Nahar and Mark weren''t here to help look for him; Madame could handle that part just fine, and she sure didn¡¯t need any bodyguards. But they had made a deal with her; Nahar had promised to represent the Kraven in compensating Freddy for the injustice he had suffered from their faction, while Mark, on the other hand, was only there to admit guilt for his betrayal and apologize. They would first sit him down and explain the situation from every perspective as soon as they found him. Mark had no idea why she was going this far out of her way for Freddy. It wasn''t like he was against it, but it was unusual that somebody of her station would be going this far out of her way for someone who seemed so far below her. Her motives and intentions weren''t his to judge. His part had been getting the poor man into the situation to begin with, and whatever she intended to do to him wasn''t something he really had a right to speak about. "Stay close to me, boys," she said. "If we come near him, I¡¯ll know." That was all the instruction Nahar and Mark received. For the first few hours of the search, all they had come across were just a few loose monsters and a couple of animals. Eventually, they finally came across the zone they had been looking for. It was a barren area utterly void of life. The only thing of note there was what had once been the dueling arena. The Kraven still had a copy of every report made before the immediate destruction of Camp Violet. Regarding reports mentioning Freddy, they found one mentioning him running away deep into the Wastes, where a group of scouts was sent after him. If he had indeed done so and was still hiding in this area, it would make sense how he managed to survive. It was quite unlikely for him to still be in the actual Wastes; this area truly lived up to its namesake. The walls appeared to be nothing but plain dirt and barren stone. The most likely possibility was that he had temporarily hidden away in the Wastes and then returned to the caverns. However, there was no actual confirmation that this was the case, and judging by the circumstances of why he ran away in the first place, the most likely scenario was that he would have just continued running, either leaving through the other side or, in the most likely scenario, by locating a passage somewhere within. As they continued their search, however, something immediately stood out. "There seem to be no passages in this area," Mark commented. "Indeed," Madame confirmed. This area was incredibly unnerving. It was quiet, calm. There was a bizarre sensation flickering at the edge of their perception. Eventually, it seemed that even Madame herself was beginning to share this sentiment. "This area is truly unnatural." Suddenly, she stopped; her eyes squinted, her gaze sharpening. She closed her eyes, and once she opened them again, she appeared distressed and concerned. Both Nahar and Mark reacted immediately. If she was acting like this, then there was definitely danger ahead. Mark made his giant sword appear, and Nahar conjured bladed blood whips. She didn''t tell them to put their weapons away. As they made their way forward, a distinctly chilling sensation could be sensed in the air around them. Eventually, they spotted it. A small opening was close to the top of one of the caverns. There, they spotted a circular passage embedded into the ceiling, emitting a cold light. *** It took quite a while for Freddy to get into the club. The line he was waiting in was one of a few. It was also the longest one. He stood there for around forty minutes and eventually reached the entrance. Once he approached, the bouncer asked for his ID. He pulled it out and handed it to the man, who immediately reacted by raising his eyebrows. The man pulled a device out of his pocket and pressed it against the ID. The device beeped, glowing green, and the man met his eyes. "Uh, sir," the bouncer started, "the waiting line for two-stars is over there," he said, pointing at the far shorter waiting line Freddy had believed to be for VIPs. He winced at that. "Nah, man," he laughed awkwardly, dismissing the bouncer. "I''m the humble type. I prefer waiting in line." He cringed at his own words "Well," the man hesitated, "if that''s what you want, it''s certainly well within your rights,¡± he stated, moving aside to let him through. "Yeah,¡± he confirmed awkwardly, stepping past the man and walking into the club. The bouncer stopped him again, grabbed his hand, and pressed a small cube against the back two times. When he lifted it, there were two small logos of the club left behind, marking his skin. Freddy had no clue exactly what that was, but it was probably a confirmation that he entered legitimately. Once again, he was assaulted by blaring lights and music so loud that it was blasting his eardrums open. He had no idea where to go or what to do, so he just strolled forward, pushing his way through the mass of people as he looked for a seat or a spot or anywhere he could settle. A series of lounges lined the side of the crowded club. Most were empty, even though the club was highly crowded. So he made his way toward them and sat down at one. "Sir, are you here for a reservation?" one of the waiters asked almost immediately as he sat down. He froze, wanting to bite himself at his stupidity. "No," he said, "I was wondering if I could buy one of these lounges." "Buy?" the man asked. "You want to reserve a lounge?" the man asked. "Yeah, that''s what I meant," he confirmed. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. "Sorry, sir, but all of these are already taken for the night," the man said apologetically, glancing at the logos pressed to the back of his hand. As soon as he spotted them, his gaze changed slightly. "But we do have one of the VIP lounges still open¡­" the man offered. "How much would that cost?" he asked the man. "The lounge? Nothing. But you have to buy at least a premium ten-man bottle service." "And how much would that cost?" he asked him again. "It''s thirty-five thousand dollars," the man answered. "Holy shit!" he exclaimed. "You know what, could you just show me to a table or something?" The man smiled. "Sure thing, sir," he said. "Please follow me." The man guided him through the mass of people, moving through the area and reaching one of the abandoned corners where he pointed him to a few round tables with nobody standing at them. He thanked the man, taking his place at the table as the waiter asked him what he wanted to order. Although he had no idea how he wanted others to join him, he didn''t intend to stand there alone. As the waiter patiently waited for him to make his order, he tried thinking back to his previous outing into a club. What did the people drink there? He remembered an assortment of miscellaneous drinks made of all sorts of fancy ether ingredients, and as for the regular drinks¡­ "I''ll have one bottle of vodka, one bottle of whiskey, and a bottle of cocktail," he said. "We don''t sell cocktails in bottles," the man said, seeming amused at the request. "Give me like ten glasses, then," he said instead. "Do you have any preferences?" the man asked. "If you don''t, I could just bring you ten random drinks," the man added helpfully, already catching on to the fact that Freddy was a fucking moron. "Sure thing." The man nodded at him with an amused smile, winked, raised a thumbs up, and mouthed, "Good luck." "Thank you," he mouthed back. As soon as the man walked out of sight, he buried his face in his hands and groaned. ¡°Just relax,¡± he told himself. ¡°Take a moment to think before you speak. Breathe. And relax. Just relax. Chill. It¡¯s all good; it¡¯s cool; you¡¯re the man. You¡¯re the man for tonight. Yeah, that¡¯s right; you¡¯re the man.¡± Thankfully, nobody overheard him. It took a surprisingly short time for the man to fetch him the drinks. Not even ten minutes later, he was no longer standing there like an idiot; now, he was standing there like an idiot with a table full of drinks that nobody was drinking, not even himself. A few people walked around and passed him, and he glared at them expectantly. He glared a bit too hard, it seemed, as most people interpreted his gaze as one of a warning, not an invitation. Minutes passed, and the bucket of ice slowly turned into a bucket of slush. Eventually, he finally caved in and grabbed one of the cocktails. "Mmm, sweet," he hummed. As he put his drink down, he turned around and spotted two familiar figures walking around. The first was Robert, the lanky, pale-skinned, long-haired archer with a scruffy beard, and the second was Lance, the tall, bald, Black brawler. "Hey!" he yelled, waving at them. The two men glared at him with a frown and then at each other, seemingly utterly oblivious as to who he was. It was no surprise, either, since not a single time while dealing with them had he taken off his helmet. After waving at them a few times and calling enthusiastically enough, the two men finally caved in and made their way forward. "Hey¡­ man," Robert greeted him cautiously as he gave him a handshake. "Do we know you?" "I''m Fre¡ª" he started but interrupted himself. "I''m Liam," he said instead. "Liam?" the man yelled, clearly bewildered. "Oh, you mean that Liam!?" "Yeah," he confirmed. "That''s me!" "Yo, what the fuck is up, my man?" Lance greeted him enthusiastically, causing him to raise an eyebrow. "What?" the man asked as he laughed and clenched his hand harder. This wasn''t how the man usually behaved. At all. "What happened with the whole mask thing?" Robert asked. "I thought you were hiding your identity?" "Well, it was never really about my identity," he said, scratching his head. "I don''t really care if people see my face; I just¡­ Well, if I''m being honest, I just didn''t feel like getting close to anyone at work." "Ah, I see, okay," the man said. ¡°I get that.¡± Then, he seemed hesitant for a moment before asking, ¡°Then, uh¡­ Is it cool for us to join you?¡± ¡°Oh, yeah, yeah, sure,¡± he said enthusiastically. ¡°You guys have been uh¡­ upgraded from colleagues to acquaintances!¡± he joked. ¡°I¡¯m a lot more chill with that.¡± ¡°Makes sense. By the way, you¡¯re so much cuter than I thought you¡¯d be,¡± the archer added jokingly, elbowing him slightly. ¡°I thought you¡¯d be one ugly motherfucker.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± Lance concurred with a chuckle. ¡°Same.¡± ¡°Sorry to disappoint?¡± he stated in a questioning tone, shooting them a cheeky grin. "Ok, so," he said while trying to think of what else to say, "feel free to take anything you want. I¡¯m treating tonight." "Sure thing, my man," Lance said as he reached for the whiskey. "God knows we need a drink." "Did something happen?" "Yeah," Robert said, "actually, our party disbanded today." "What!?" he shouted. "How the hell did that happen? I was with you guys just this morning!" "Theo and Beatrice are getting a divorce," the brawler said. "Well, that came out of nowhere," he said, taken aback. "For you, maybe," Robert commented sarcastically. "Not for us. They weren''t really acting like themselves around somebody who''s, well, kind of an outsider. But yeah, they fought a lot. I think you even saw them do that a few times. Theo is kind of a manipulative asshole, and Beatrice is a control freak, so those two never meshed particularly well." "Wow," he breathed out, genuinely bewildered. "I''m shocked to hear that." "Yeah," Lance confirmed. "Those two are major pieces of work." "So wait," he started. "Your party is breaking up because of a divorce?" "It''s simple, really," Robert said. "If we had to pick between Theodore or Beatrice, or any party did for that matter, everybody would pick Theo because he''s just so much more useful. For me and Lance, he is the obvious choice, but Beatrice and Petra are best friends, and Kyle and Petra are engaged. I''m sure you can put two and two together." "Ah, yeah. So are you guys just¡­ is it just the two of you and Theo now?" "No," the man denied, ¡°is just me and Lance. Theo took an indefinite break from delving because he isn''t really in the right mind space right now." He blew some air through pursed lips. "Makes sense. That really sucks, though, I''m sorry that happened." "Nah, it''s cool," Robert said. "Our party has been a little dysfunctional for a while already. In fact, this is the perfect time for us to break up. I''m gonna be honest, since you''ve been working with us for the last month, we''ve literally doubled our income. I have so much more money now than I''ve ever had in my entire life. Thanks for that." "I should be the one thanking you guys for doing all the work," he joked. "By the way," Lance interrupted, "did you really bring back fifty-seven motherfuckin¡¯ gorels by yourself today?" "Yep," he confirmed, smiling. "You fucking beast!" Lance said with a grin, offering him a fist pump. "We always knew you were something, but man¡­" "Okay, okay, enough delving talk," he said, taking a glass and pouring himself some whiskey. Frankly, he wanted another fruity cocktail, but this seemed like the manlier thing to do. "I¡¯ll be honest with you guys. I haven''t really gone out like this before, and I have no clue what to do,¡± he said with a hint of shame hidden behind laughter. ¡°I mean, I''ve been at a party before, but it was a private setting. So yeah, this whole thing is a bit tough. I already embarrassed myself like ten times since I entered here, so you know, you got any advice?" "Actually, you seem pretty damn young," Robert said. "How old are you?" "I''m twenty-two," he said. "Twenty-two!?" Lance yelled. "No way, man. I''m like forty, and this motherfucker is thirty-five. How are you already so strong? Do you come from a rich family? Come on, you can tell us." "Look, I don¡¯t really care about keeping my identity private, but I do have some shit I''d like to keep for myself, so I''d be grateful if you could respect that." ¡°Aight, no problem,¡± Lance said. ¡°Sorry for asking." ¡°Don''t sweat it. So,¡± he returned back to the topic. ¡°About that advice¡­?¡± The two men grinned as they briefly looked at each other. Robert grinned. "Just relax, man,¡± he said, nudging him with an elbow, ¡°you already have the most important part covered." ¡°And what¡¯s that?¡± The archer¡¯s grin widened. ¡°You¡¯re paying for the drinks.¡± *** Freddy woke up the following day with a searing headache and a notable gap in his memory. "What the fuck happened, man?" he asked himself but suddenly froze as he heard breathing next to him. There, he spotted a person. A naked person. A naked female person, to be exact. For a moment, a mix of anxiety and elation bubbled in his gut. Then he felt his stomach rapidly sink as he recognized who it was. He knew her relatively well, given the previous month of working with her. Because it was Beatrice, Theodore''s ex-wife. Chapter 60 - Complicated Situation "Oh God fucking damn it," Freddy whispered under his breath as he slowly shifted his naked body out of the sheets, got up, and snuck his way out of the room. He slowly cracked the door open to take another, more careful look at the woman lying in his bed. "Yep," he confirmed. That was indeed Theodore''s wife. "Fuck my life," he scream-whispered as he slowly closed the door without making a sound. His mind whirled as he tried to think of what to do in this scenario. Should he just leave the apartment? He was completely naked, and his clothes were in the room, in the closet, conveniently right next to the naked woman sleeping in his bed. Lovely. Since leaving was impossible, that begged the question¡ªwhat the heck should he do? Should he wake her up? But if he did so while being completely naked, that probably wouldn''t go so well. So should he put his clothes on? He would probably wake her up by doing that. That only left him with a single possibility¡ªsilently crawl back into bed and pretend that he was asleep. Every single muscle in his body protested the action as he opened the door and carefully snuck his way toward the bed, doing his best to hide his private bits as he hunched over in a highly awkward position. Then, he carefully reached out and grabbed the corner of the sheet as he prepared to lay down. Then, he heard a woman''s voice. "What the fuck!?" she screamed as she got up, clearly panicked, and conjured a fireball, preparing to throw it at him. "Jesus Christ!¡± he yelled. ¡°Don''t throw that thing at me!" he begged. "Oh my god," she said as she extinguished the ball of flame. "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, this can''t be happening." An expression of abject agony flashed through her face as she turned around, concealing her body, and said, "Please leave the room." He obliged, as he had no desire to be burned alive. As he left the room and closed the door, he heard the woman audibly cursing as she hurriedly put her clothes on. Eventually, the noises quieted, and he found himself standing in awkward silence. Still butt naked. He briefly peeked into the bathroom and took out a towel to cover himself. The seconds of waiting soon turned into minutes, and just as he was starting to get tired of standing there and wondering whether she was even planning to leave the room, the door suddenly burst open. "I''m so sorry," she said, pushing past him with a strained smile. "Please put your clothes on," she requested. As he got dressed and left his room, he was fully prepared to find that she had left the apartment. Unfortunately, he wasn''t that lucky. The woman was sitting at the small table in the living room, on one of the two chairs. Her face was firmly buried in her hands, and she did not even as much as peek at him as he walked into the room. So he waited, unsure what to do, as the awkward silence between them continued. "Hey," she finally called, "you''re¡­ Liam, right?" she asked hesitantly, clearly afraid of the answer. "Yep, that''s me," he responded awkwardly. "Oh god," she released a pained groan of agony as she started crying, "you''re just a kid, and I¡ªoh god, what did I do?" Okay, he thought to himself. That doesn¡¯t bode well for my ego. "Whoa, whoa, whoa," he interrupted, "I think there''s some sort of misunderstanding here because I''m not underage!" That didn''t seem to comfort the woman at all. She continued sobbing, muttering sorrys and apologies for what she had done. Freddy would give literally everything he had to not be in that situation. Time passed, mostly in silence, occasionally interrupted by the woman sobbing. From what he could barely decipher, the woman seemed to feel incredibly guilty about ¡°using him¡±. Although he was young and relatively inexperienced with interpersonal relationships, he didn''t feel terrible about what had happened. Did he feel ashamed? Everyone probably would in those particular circumstances, but did he feel used? Hell no. In fact, he didn''t even feel particularly guilty about what happened. While, emotionally speaking, it wasn''t that straightforward, it was true that the woman was technically divorced. It wasn''t like he bagged some guy''s wife or anything. Technically. As he awkwardly stood to the side, the last night''s events slowly returned to him, one cringy piece at a time. It all started when he, Lance, and Robert started drinking. Those two old bastards quickly plummeted from semi-respectable individuals to two horny old men in his eyes. They wantonly called everyone around them, inviting young girls with some of the cheesiest, grossest one-liners he had ever heard in his life. He started the night rather heavy on the booze to drown the shame he felt and mute the cringe he was experiencing. The worst, most embarrassing part of the whole situation was that some girls actually came over. And he thought he lacked self-respect. At some point, right about the time his memory started becoming patchy, Beatrice and Petra materialized out of nowhere. Apparently, they had stumbled upon the three men by accident. Petra had taken the initiative to take Beatrice out to help her forget about the day''s events. Honestly, a surprisingly irresponsible move from a woman who put such emphasis on caution. Apparently, the divorce was 100% Theodore''s fault. The others had no clue what had happened, but apparently, he had made a rather big decision without Beatrice''s input. When she confronted him about it, he got super defensive, telling her to fuck off. The whole situation spiraled out of control, and eventually, Theodore said that they clearly weren¡¯t made for one another and cut things off. The first half of the night was spent with them comforting her while she cried her eyes out, while the second half of the night was utterly dark in his memory. As the awkward silence continued, he glanced at the clock hanging on the wall; it was already past 2:00 p.m. Frankly, he had no plans for that day other than just resting or doing something for himself, as he had been working pretty damn hard for a while already. Now, it was only a question of what exactly he would do with this whole situation. "Hey," he called awkwardly, trying to think of what to say. "Don''t take this the wrong way; it''s not like I''m chasing you out or anything. It''s just, you know, do you really want to be here, and¡ª" "I''m sorry, but, uh," she interrupted him, "can I please stay here for just a bit?" she asked. At that moment, he really wanted to say ¡°hell no¡± and chase her out, but he decided to at least ask, "Uhm¡­ can you tell me why¡­ exactly?¡± "Well," she said, taking a moment to sigh, "I was supposed to be staying at Petra''s place because, you know, Theodore kind of kicked me out, and I¡­ I don''t know, I just¡­ I''m afraid that he will come over looking for me. I don¡¯t wanna see him." He had to hold himself back from asking why that was his problem, but he shut his mouth. He was no sociopath, and he wouldn''t kick the girl out if she wanted to hide there for the day. Besides, this whole situation was partially his fault. There was just one tiny problem, however. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t you¡­ uh¡­ Wouldn¡¯t you prefer to stay at a hotel, instead?¡± ¡°I lost my wallet,¡± she said. He winced. ¡°If you want, I can uh¡­ I can lend you some money?¡± She briefly glanced at him with red eyes and then looked away again, guilt and shame playing on her face. ¡°I uh¡­ Look,¡± he continued, ¡°we can both agree that this is pretty damn awkward. Like I¡¯ll just¡­ I¡¯ll give you the money; you don¡¯t even have to pay me back.¡± She chuckled at that a bit. ¡°So you want me out?¡± He cringed at that. ¡°No, it¡¯s not¡­ Come on, don¡¯t do that to me. We both know that this is not going to turn into anything, and uh¡­¡± He aggressively scratched the back of his head as he searched for words. ¡°I get it. Thanks,¡± she eked out. ¡°Just give me a bit and I¡¯ll go.¡± ¡°Yeah¡­ I uh¡­ Sorry. Again, please don¡¯t take this the wrong way.¡± This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. ¡°It¡¯s fine.¡± It felt like every single word that left his mouth made the situation worse, so instead of continuing to ramble, he sat on the small couch on the other side of the room and remained quiet. He tapped his fingers as he desperately tried pretending like he was thinking about something important. He¡¯d kill for a newspaper to at least pretend like he was reading something. Or a book. Frankly, it almost seemed like the woman wanted to stay there. Or was she just afraid of leaving? Freddy did live pretty close to the hub, and there was a good chance that she would stumble upon Theodore somewhere outside. A few times, he inadvertently glanced at the woman. Her profile was turned to him, and she was staring at the wall with her head slightly turned away from him. Fuck, she is so damn hot, his mind betrayed him as the thought came uninvited. If he was being entirely honest, he had¡­ noticed the woman throughout his time working with their party. Well, he had also noticed Petra, but¡­ well¡­ taken women and all that. He wasn¡¯t a degenerate, nor did he fancy adultery. Hell, until yesterday, he had been a virgin. A very shameful thought crossed his mind. There was the whole thing that¡­ well¡­ a lot had happened, and he had no memory of it. It was a stupid thought. This is absolutely not the time to make a move, Fred. Calm the fuck down, he chastised himself. That begged yet another in a series of complicated questions¡ªwhat should he do now? She said she¡¯d leave in a bit, but the situation was becoming more awkward by the second. While he could just sit and wait, he wanted to¡­ help¡­ maybe? Although he seemed to be good enough for the other thing, he definitely wasn''t a decent shoulder to cry on. What was he supposed to do¡ªadvise her? He didn''t even know how to talk to a waiter properly, let alone what to say in a situation like this. Suddenly, he heard a knocking coming from the door. Both he and the disheveled woman glanced at the small hallway leading to the entrance, then at each other. It was at this moment that he remembered¡ªor rather, didn''t remember¡ªhow exactly he and the woman made their way back to the apartment. Did the others know where they went? Did somebody see them coming there? He glanced at her, and all she did was shrug anxiously, as she seemed to have no idea either. Suddenly, he remembered that it was most likely the landlord. They had set up automatic rent payments through the bank, but there might have been a problem, and he might have come here to check things out to ensure everything was okay. He walked out of the small living room into the even tinier hallway, closing the door behind him to give the woman some privacy and to give himself some, too, just in case whatever happened was in any way embarrassing. When he semi-confidently walked over to the door, he peeked through the peephole and took a look. "Oh, fuck my life," he exhaled. There was a brunet, sharp man with several scars along his face standing right outside the door. It was Theodore. How the hell did the man even know where he lived? Did he come here to kill me? There was no way Freddy would open that door¡ªwas what he thought, but then Theodore started knocking louder and was about to yell. Just as the man opened his mouth, he quickly opened the door, walked outside, and closed it behind them. Frankly, he was geared for a fight; it seemed like this would probably turn into something nasty¡ªor so he had presumed. But the man didn''t seem angry; if anything, he only seemed vaguely surprised at the somewhat aggressive exit from the apartment. "Hey there," the man cautiously greeted him. "You¡¯re uh¡­ Liam, right?" "Yeah¡­ That¡¯s uh¡­ That¡¯s me. I¡¯m the.. Yeah. Mhm." He nodded as casually as he could manage. "Oh, well, phew," the man said as he wiped his forehead in a mock gesture, imitating wiping sweat off. "For a second, I thought I got the wrong guy." "How did you know where I live?" he asked hesitantly, fully expecting the man to say something like ¡°Robert told me¡± or ¡°Lance told me¡± or ¡°Petra told me.¡± But no. "To be honest," the man started his explanation, "I already knew who you were for a while. You know, my whole job is to be observant, and I walk around a lot. I saw you a few times in the neighborhood, and, you know, tall guy, similar build, no visible aura coming from my talent. It was pretty obvious, actually. I just had to put two and two together. ¡°I saw you walking into this building once, and I asked the landlord, ''Is there a Liam living here?'' and yeah, ever since, I''ve known where you live. I''m sorry; that is, you know, pretty intrusive, but it was, well, yeah." "Uh huh¡­ okay," he said slowly, beginning to suspect that the man had no clue that Beatrice was in his apartment. Another thing he noticed was that, when he first met him, the man had been at the peak of the first star. Freddy could tell this because it was challenging for someone from a lower rank to hide their progress from someone of a higher rank. Back then, he could tell how powerful he was. But now, he couldn¡¯t. This could only mean two things: either the man had acquired some sort of treasure to help hide his power, or he had ascended a star.. Which begged yet another in an excruciatingly long series of increasingly complex questions¡ªif he wasn¡¯t here to get his ex wife, what the hell was he doing here!? So he asked, "Can you tell me what this is about?" he tried being polite, but he was clearly on edge. Although this situation was quite a bit better than the man walking in here with a knife, prepared to stab him to death, it was still really freaking weird why he had tracked him like that. "I''m here to give you another offer," the man said. Freddy was about to reject it, expecting another shady deal about a party or something. But the man raised his hand and interrupted him before he could. ¡°This time,¡± Theodore said, "I''m not the one making the offer.¡± Then he handed him a letter of invitation. Freddy cracked it open, checking its contents. It was yet another offer to join a party, but this was different. The man hadn''t been lying; this offer wasn¡¯t from him. It wasn''t even an offer to join a party outright; it was an offer to participate in an interview-slash-evaluation. Even then, he wasn''t particularly willing to accept the offer. Not only was he not interested in working with others, but he was also particularly reluctant to work with this man who had been shady from the start. Since Theodore had told the others that he would be going on a prolonged indefinite break, he was looking a lot more suspicious suddenly showing up at his door holding something like this. But the man could sense his intent to refuse, already getting quite a bit of practice receiving refusals, and yet again interrupted him. "You won''t be able to continue delving like this," the man told him. "What?" Freddy exclaimed. "Why?" "You''re incredibly talented and extremely overqualified for this realm," the man clarified. "Do you think that the owner is going to allow you to exterminate the entire population of gorels?" Now that made him seriously angry. Yet again, Theodore spotted this and cut in. "If you''re worried about a cut in income, don''t be. If you can pass this interview, anything you could earn delving like this will pale in comparison. You don''t have to give me an answer immediately, but do know that if you continue hunting like this, the owner will intervene, and you will either have to limit your hunting or move to a more difficult realm in the hub. The interview is in a week, so you still have some time. Take a while to think about it." And with those parting words, the man turned around and left. He closed the door, turned around, and whispered under his breath, "Yeah, screw that." The reason why he didn''t want to work with others wasn''t entirely arbitrary. He had secrets to hide, and shady situations like these were ones he wanted to avoid at all costs. The only thing he would think about in the next week was how to prevent the owner from limiting his income. He walked back inside, went to his room, and hid the invitation letter. The woman didn''t ask him about who it was, and she clearly hadn''t figured out that it was her ex husband. Although the distraction made him forget for a moment, he was still stuck in an incredibly awkward situation. Sighing and taking a moment to calm himself, he sat back down on the couch. Minutes passed. After a while, he started getting frustrated. What was she waiting for? Divine intervention? Now that he thought about it, there was no way in hell that her fear of running into Theodore could possibly outweigh the unbelievably awkward atmosphere. Could she just be paralyzed due to all that happened? While he hesitated to say anything, the clock was ticking. If he wanted to make anything of his day off, he had to chase her out. But how the hell was he supposed to do that? As the silence finally stretched for a bit too long, he decided to just be upfront. ¡°Hey uh¡­ Beatrice?¡± ¡°Hmmm?¡± she hummed as she turned to face him. ¡°Look, uhm¡­ I¡¯ll be honest with you, I would like you to leave.¡± She looked surprised for a moment, but he didn¡¯t give her the time to react. ¡°I don¡¯t know what¡¯s keeping you here, but this is getting more than a little awkward.¡± He got up, pulled out a couple hundred dollars from his wallet, and put the money on the table before her. ¡°Take that and pay for a hotel room.¡± The woman scowled at the money, then glanced up at him. She turned her face away in disgust and got up. ¡°Sorry for bothering you,¡± she said, leaving the cash on the table and rushing toward the exit. Freddy¡¯s mouth opened, but he couldn¡¯t think of a single thing to say. He simply watched in a stunned silence as the woman marched out of the apartment, leaving him in a deathly silence. Absolutely bewildered, he scowled at the door for a long minute. ¡°What?¡± he spat. ¡°What the hell did I do wrong?¡± *** Theodore made his way home, still feeling somewhat distressed. Liam was a monster. Once he had gone up to the second star, he had been confident that his talent''s evolution would finally let him peer through Liam¡¯s aura. But it didn''t. However, his talent had changed in more ways than just becoming more powerful and capable of detecting presences. Now, whenever he stared at the surface of a creature''s body, even if he couldn''t see their aura, he could sense weak points, seeing them as glowing spots on the body. The brighter those spots were, the greater the weak point was. This time, it wasn''t the case of talent negation; his talent still clearly worked on the man, but the man looked dim. Barring the obvious, such as significant arteries and eyes, the man seemingly had no weak points on his entire body. ¡°So he wasn''t lying about the Hundred Wet Hells, either, huh,¡± he mused. Judging by the man''s behavior, Theodore presumed that Liam would likely refuse to show up. ¡°Oh well¡­¡± he said, sighing. ¡°I¡¯ll have to ask Jacob to send someone else.¡± Chapter 61 - Mysterious Circumstances Mark gulped as he stared at the circular passage embedded into the stony ceiling. "Fall back," Madame said in a severe tone. Both he and Nahar obeyed without asking any questions. After a few minutes of cautious but hasty retreat away from the passage, they finally left the unnerving area. Mark''s gaze sharpened as he glanced at Madame. "Could that passage be related to why you''re looking for Freddy?" he asked. ¡°Mr. Afronte,¡± she barked, none of her usual joviality in her tone. ¡°Please¡ªshut up.¡± He lowered his head a bit, silently apologizing. The next few minutes passed in silence. They didn''t decide on what to do next; well, they couldn''t. The passage complicated things. It was clearly anomalous, and there was a non-zero chance that it might have been related to the destruction of Camp Violet. When they read through all of the reports that summarized what happened to Camp Violet, one of the things that stood out was what had happened to Freddy Stern. The whole case surrounding him had been a bit of an anomaly. On the same day the Camp Violet destruction incident happened, he ran off into the Wastes. Then, scouts were sent out to search after him. Not some random pushovers, either; elite agents. Peak professional two-stars with many years of experience. But they hadn''t returned from their mission. Even their corpses had never been identified. The thing with this whole case was that although a search of the surrounding area had been done and survivors and equipment had been retrieved, the investigation of what precisely had happened, well¡­ it hadn''t been that thorough. It had only aimed to accomplish one thing¡ªdisprove that the camp had been destroyed by a rival faction. In the end, this was the only thing that actually mattered. The investigation had ended the moment they made the conclusion that some form of a hostile entity from the caverns was the thing responsible. As for what exactly it was, it didn''t actually matter; all it meant was that this area was too dangerous to continue excavation. A consequence was that the investigation had left behind many loose ends that nobody had any interest in tying. Mark couldn''t stop his gaze from slowly moving in Madame''s direction. Her back was held straight, her expression was stony and stern, and her arms were crossed. She was silent; she was thinking something through. Why was she looking for that man? The mysterious circumstances behind the man''s disappearance grew more bizarre with each new discovery. Mark suppressed the feeling of sickness that bubbled in his gut. What now? Where was this leading to? What kind of horrors was he guilty of inflicting upon that man? But he pushed it down. This was no time for a mental breakdown. Suddenly, they heard the sound of footsteps making their way towards their location. All three of them, including Madame, immediately got into a stance and turned to face the sound. So far, they hadn''t encountered a single living thing within the Wastes. As the trio observed the figure of the decaying body of a woman appear before their eyes, they realized that that still hadn''t changed. "An undead!" Nahar exclaimed. "There must be a death-affinity deviant nearby,¡± he concluded, keeping his calm as he glanced around, passively scouting the area. The woman''s body was already severely decomposed, and the undead could barely walk. Nasty pus dripped down the side of the armor, and its steps sloshed with the mangling of rotten flesh on its feet. "Wait," Mark suddenly breathed out as he raised an arm. "Look at the equipment. Wasn''t that worn by one of the three scouts sent after Freddy?" he recalled. "Indeed," Nahar confirmed. "That''s Jenny Walker." The undead woman was still awkwardly shambling towards them. Such an undead should have been no threat to their party¡ªbut it was at this moment that both Mark and Nahar noticed that Madame hadn''t dropped her guard. "Where¡­ Where am I?" a low, gurgling voice sounded from the undead woman. Mark took an involuntary step back in surprise. "That thing can speak!?" "Thing?" the undead asked. "Speak? Who are you? What¡­ Where am I?" It moved its bloodshot gaze to stare at its rotting arm. Its eyes shot open, revealing the faint outline of black, square pupils. Suddenly, a twang echoed through the caves as a bolt pierced straight through the zombie''s skull. Madame''s arm had morphed into a crossbow of tendons and bone, and she was already regrowing another piece of bone ammo. The undead did not drop to the ground. Madame fired again. Plucky twangs and wet thuds sounded repeatedly as bolt after bolt embedded into the undead''s rotting flesh, but the attacks failed to take it down. "Insolent!" the creature screeched. "Blasphemy! You dare raise an arm against the High Priestess? Intolerable!" it shrieked. Yet another shard of bone flew out, but the undead dodged it this time. Neither Mark nor Nahar could sense it until that moment, but as the creature released its full power¡­ they realized that this was a three-star opponent. And it was powerful. The undead screamed bloody murder as its body began to morph. It grew, replacing its rotting, mangled flesh with solid limbs wrapped in gray skin. The tight armor stretched to its breaking point, shattering with pieces flying into the cavern walls, where they embedded themselves with metallic clangs and ricocheted with high-pitched clinks. Suddenly, with a burst of movement, Madame flashed forward and impaled her entire right arm through the center of the undead''s torso. The creature initially seemed unperturbed, but then Madame backed off. Her right arm, however, the one she just embedded into the undead, stayed where it was, detaching from her body. Then, it started glowing. The two men swiftly fell back, hiding behind the nearest obstacle as the shining limb ignited. After the deafening burst, the sound of rotting flesh splattering all over the walls soon followed. The explosion echoed through the cavern, circling through the empty space and sounding as if dozens of other explosions were going off. "Holy shit!" Mark breathed out. Madame suddenly appeared right before the two of them, her entire right arm and all the equipment on it missing. "You may come out now," she said. "It''s dead for good." This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. "Was that really necessary?" Nahar asked as he pointedly stared at Madame''s missing limb. Indeed. Although those with a life affinity could relatively easily regrow limbs, returning them to their perfect state was costly and time-consuming. And she should have been able to overpower that creature even without such a sacrifice. "That is for me to worry about, dear," she said as she grew out a fleshy appendage to replace the lost limb. Her expression appeared turbulent as she stared at the scattering of stinky, rotting gore. "This is the first time we¡¯re ever seeing anything like this," she said. Mark and Nahar immediately knew what the woman was talking about. Both men were highly educated and had immediately noticed the same thing. Mindless undead could be created through death-affinity abilities, but making them sapient just wasn¡¯t possible. Let alone creating an undead with not just a star but three. If someone¡ªor something¡ªwith such a power existed, the implications were immense. This was escalating fast. The two men waited to the side while Madame examined the corpse. Whatever she was looking for, she wasn''t pleased with the answers she discovered. "Follow me," she said. "We''re going back to that passage." So they did. They retraced their steps and found the eerie circular opening embedded in the ceiling. Its aura was as nauseating as the first time they saw it. The woman closed her eyes, likely examining the Netherecho. Both of them soon followed cautiously, taking a look for themselves. Almost as soon as they closed their eyes, they shot them back open, yelping and taking a few frightened steps back. "What the hell is that?" Nahar shouted. Mark silently echoed that statement. He had never seen wisps like those in his life¡ªpitch-black, square-pupiled eyes surrounded the passage, staring deep into their souls. Madame clicked her tongue, turned around, and started running back. The two men followed, asking her what exactly she was running towards, but she refused to elaborate. After almost half an hour of travel, they finally made their way out of the Wastes. Once there, the men saw Madame rushing at the first monster she could find, a fat lizard thing that she grasped by the back of its neck and then abruptly started running back. The two men followed her; eventually, they returned. As soon as they did, Madame abruptly snapped the lizard''s neck and threw it right in front of the circular opening. Then she closed her eyes. Unable to restrain their curiosity, the two men also took a look. The wisps gradually gathered around the corpse; they rushed at it, but most simply bounced off. This continued for a long while¡ªall that really happened was that more and more of them were ramming into the body. Suddenly, as the wisps grew dense enough, some bounced off and started floating towards them, aiming at their bodies. Mark reacted instinctively and left the Netherecho when he spotted that; Nahar soon followed. But Madame had decided to stay, likely manually defending her body from the invasion of these freaky, abnormal wisps. After a very anxiety-inducing half-hour of waiting, Madame''s eyes finally shot open, and she glared at the lizard''s corpse as it fumbled and started getting up to its feet. She conjured a dense fireball in her left hand and threw it at the monster, creating a violent explosion of gore. As they stood there silently observing the charred remains, they all had the same thought¡ªwhat the hell was going on? *** Rahal had only one thing to say about his older brother¡¯s death¡ªit served him right. Janhalar had always been selfish, focusing on himself using the excuse that he was doing it for the clan. And look where that brought him. He died, and his body had been defiled. Critical treasures he kept in his personal storage ring¡ªwhere they were the ¡°safest¡±¡ªwere now lost, putting the future of their entire clan into jeopardy. And, as was the case with every stupid error his brother committed, Rahal was the one who had to ensure that they weren¡¯t lost forever. Surrounded by three elders on each side, with their scout following behind them, Rahal led the eight-man group on what felt like a wild goose chase through the interspace. His long, white hair trailed down his back, and the red lines on his face made concentric circles. He looked much like his brother, the only notable exception being his striking blue eyes. Thankfully, they had Larem¡¯s help; otherwise, they couldn¡¯t track these people. Whoever they were, they were highly proficient at covering the evidence of their passing. Well, at first, at least. For the first ten passages, they had left close to no tracks, but then, likely deeming themselves safe enough, they stopped bothering. It had already been more than a month, and most their search party had been able to achieve was keep pace with the fleeing individuals. This deep within the interspace was dangerous. Lethal. Difficult challenges and frightening monstrosities lurked behind every corner, and as such, they had to make their way forward carefully. The people they were following, however, seemingly weren¡¯t limited by the same obstacles. And they didn¡¯t seem foolish or rash, either. Not one nasty predator was disturbed in their wake, and they hadn¡¯t unwittingly walked into a single hellish environment so far. These people were experts at navigating the interspace, and with each passing moment, they grew more convinced that they weren¡¯t human at all. Their search was no question of revenge for the defiling of their patriarch¡¯s body. No, they had more important reasons to go after these people. There had been two treasures in Janhalar¡¯s possession that needed to be retrieved at all costs. First was the starfire mirror rose extract. And the second was the prime vestige. Both were crucial enough that even their deaths would be a worthwhile investment to get them back. Which was to say that they had come prepared to die. They trodded through a jungle environment. Mud coated their uniforms, and the sounds of abominable parrot-esque monsters screeching their lungs out echoed all around them as the plants themselves moved to assault them and slow their progress. Although they made sure to confirm that they were safe enough to travel, they couldn¡¯t afford to take things slow. It was uncertain whether their quarry knew they were being tracked, but either way, they were moving fast. Yet again, they found themselves at a loss for where to go next, and Larem had to use his talent again. The man kept his talent going until his eyes started bleeding, and ultimately, he spotted the next trail, quite a bit away from the direction they had been heading in. But that wasn¡¯t all he witnessed. ¡°Take care,¡± he said in a slightly nasal voice. ¡°I believe they are close.¡± Rahal prepared himself for combat. He was a caster by specialization. Although his blood-manipulation-enhancing talent wasn¡¯t patriarch material, he was mighty proud of it. Power-wise, the only person in the entire clan who could outdo him was Nahar. That kid was a true monster. He pulled a wand out of his dimension ring and grasped it tightly. It was made of bone, with a red crystal on top. All the others got ready, too, and they made their way forward. Indeed, Larem had been telling the truth. Their quarry wasn¡¯t far¡ªthe two individuals they were chasing were¡­ resting, seemingly oblivious to the fact that they were being attacked. Initially, he believed that they could potentially be powerful enough that they simply didn¡¯t care. Until he and all of the elders surrounding him finally felt the duo¡¯s power. ¡°Wha¡ª!?¡± he couldn¡¯t stop himself from yelping in shock. Although surprisingly well-concealed, these people''s presence was that of¡­ two-stars!? He didn¡¯t know whether to smile or frown. Something was off. They could clearly hold their own even in the depths of wild passage realms¡ªso how? ¡°Don¡¯t drop your guard,¡± he told his party. ¡°You never know what they could be hiding.¡± They coordinated their strategy and surrounded their enemy. Once they got close enough, Rahal could see their faces. The two people appeared to be a short man and a tall woman, crouched and conversing. Their hair was black, and their equipment was decent but nothing special. They appeared to be little more than two ordinary Caucasian archhumans. What caught Rahal¡¯s attention, however, was their eyes. Their pupils were in the shape of eerie squares, and a general air of wrongness surrounded the two. Eventually, all the combatants got into position. With a flash of his will, Rahal revealed his power, and the others took the cue to jump out of the bushes and surround their quarry. Their targets didn¡¯t panic; instead, they swiftly but cautiously raised their guard and prepared for combat. ¡°It appears that we have been surrounded,¡± the man stated the obvious with a thick accent, sounding almost Middle Eastern, but not quite. ¡°Do not engage, Kaefalge,¡± the woman commanded, much to the man¡¯s chagrin. She also had an unusual way of speaking, but it was less her accent, and more the fact that she overprounced her words and spoke slowly but clearly. ¡°Diplomacy always comes first.¡± ¡°Do not school me on diplomacy, Firrita,¡± the man responded. Rahal cautiously observed their exchange as he evaluated the situation. Everything about them was odd. Their stance was unusual, but he could sense great experience oozing from how these two held themselves. There was no fakeness to it¡ªtheir power was on full display. They were truly two-stars. But their experience didn¡¯t at all match their power. Rather than beat around the bush, he decided to cut straight to the point. ¡°You two looted the corpse of a man with an appearance similar to ours. Hand back everything you took.¡± Chapter 62 - Impostor In the middle of a forested realm with a suffocating, humid jungle environment, two people knelt half-naked before the eight people surrounding them. The first of the two¡ªa short, black-haired man¡ªheld himself firmly as a figure in red robes scanned his body. The other person, a tall woman dressed in nothing but her underwear, waited for them to finish as she kept eye contact with Rahal. They had surrendered rather easily. That was a wise decision. Not only had they been surrounded, but Rahal and the elders had brought specialized tools to help restrain them, and they hadn¡¯t been hiding them, either. Rahal glanced at the scout who he had tasked with searching them. The man shook his head. ¡°Curses!¡± he swore under his breath as he turned to the short man. ¡°You. What is your talent?¡± ¡°I can make fire burn fiercer with nothing but a glance,¡± the man surrendered the information easily. Rahal called the name of one of the elders, and the woman pulled out a lighter. As she flicked it, the man displayed his talent by making the small flame rise rapidly. The elder flicked her lighter closed, and the fire petered out. ¡°And you?¡± he asked as he turned to face the woman. ¡°Put a weapon in one of my hands,¡± she requested. ¡°Jahir, plastic fork.¡± The scout nodded as he extracted a piece of plastic cutlery from the bag on his back and placed it into the woman¡¯s hands. She clenched and, with ease, created an ethereal copy of the fork in her second hand. That means that neither of them had a storage talent. Barring circumstances too extraordinary to realistically expect them, these two didn¡¯t have any way to hide the items if they were in their possession. He sighed and pinched his brow. A headache settled right on the top of his scalp and made its way down. Absolutely fantastic; they had just spent a godforsaken month running around the interspace like idiots! ¡°We told you we don¡¯t have it,¡± the tied-up woman said. ¡°The only thing we did was take the heart essence. My companion is the one who consumed it. I know the spiritual value of such an item to those who walk the path of blood, and if you wish for satisfaction, you may take my head.¡± She offered as she bowed, and surprisingly, her companion looked greatly amused at her words. ¡°I don¡¯t need your fucking head,¡± Rahal swore angrily, his eyes turning bloodshot. He bit his thumbnail so hard that a big chunk of it detached. He spat it out as he marched forward and leaned in to stare into the woman¡¯s eyes. ¡°I need information,¡± he barked. ¡°Tell me! What were you doing in that realm!? Who are you!?¡± The short man perked up. ¡°Ah, that would be a bit of a long story. But we did see who killed your patriarch,¡± the man shared, sneering. Rahal spun wildly. ¡°What!?¡± he asked. ¡°Was it not the leviathan!? Who was it!? Do you know their location!?¡± ¡°I have no idea,¡± the man said, grinning gleefully. He kicked the man in the face, pushing him over to the ground as he turned to the woman. ¡°Are you more willing to speak?¡± ¡°My companion is telling the truth,¡± she said. ¡°We have seen the beginning of the battle where your patriarch perished, but we fled immediately after. We only returned after a long time had passed, and even that was only due to my companion¡¯s curiosity.¡± ¡°Bullshit!¡± Rahal spat. ¡°What I think really happened is that you took the items on his body and returned later when you remembered the heart essence!¡± he accused as he jabbed a finger at the woman¡¯s collarbone. ¡°Now tell me what you did with it!¡± The woman merely shrugged. ¡°We have no way to prove our innocence,¡± she said. ¡°Do with us as you wish.¡± ¡°All right,¡± he said as he kicked the woman in the gut. She buckled over as he started walking. ¡°You will tell us everything you know,¡± he continued as the woman spat blood. ¡°If I ever have any reason to suspect you¡¯re lying, I will kill you both without hesitation.¡± The man started laughing at that. ¡°You will never believe us when we tell you,¡± he said. ¡°So you might as well kill us immediately.¡± ¡°That¡¯s for me to judge,¡± Rahal said. ¡°Now speak!¡± And spoke, they did. Their story was the single most confusing, nonsensical piece of information Rahal had ever received. And it wasn¡¯t because it was a blatant lie, either. At least parts of what they were saying made sense. The patriarch had been in the middle of chasing a blood-affinity ether construct tied to the concept of bloodshed. The beginning of their story lined up. But the details were¡­ frankly absurd. Rahal had established himself as likely the most important among the elders purely due to how well he wielded information. His memory was eidetic. So he could tentatively put the pieces together. There was a small problem¡ªeven children¡¯s cartoons had a more believable plot than the tall tale these two shared with him. The first thing they encountered was a one-star archhuman slaying a leviathan. This was the creature they had presumed to be the true culprit behind their patriarch¡¯s death. And, apparently, it had died to a damn one-star. Then, the spirit of bloodshed appeared to save the man¡¯s life. As for why he needed to be saved? Apparently, killing a creature so far above one¡¯s level overwhelmed one¡¯s soul. The ¡°usual¡± way to avoid it was to use a talisman of sorts. The problem was that he had never heard of this. Nobody had ever killed something so far above them at the first star. That was impossible. Or, it should have been. Who were these people to speak of such things with such confidence? That didn¡¯t feel like a deliberate detail they dropped to throw them off the trail. There was another problem¡ªthe blood spirit¡¯s arrival. They claimed that it hadn¡¯t already been with the man but that it had come out of nowhere, only for the patriarch to soon follow after it. That lined up with the fact that the patriarch could track the blood spirit. The issue with their story was that too many details lined up. Afterward, several things led to giant skeletal heads rising from the ocean, which was when the patriarch started fighting them, and these two ran away. It was rather uncharacteristic of Kraven clansmen to laugh. But the cackling of the elders was understandable. Rahal, on the other hand, wasn¡¯t laughing. The woman stood still, her expression serene as she awaited their judgment. There wasn¡¯t even the slightest hint of humor, even after the absurd story. The man, on the other hand, seemed to bask in its absurdity, openly cackling at them, so much so that it threw Rahal off. He sighed. They had underestimated these two. While they were two-stars, they weren¡¯t rookies. Ordinary methods of interrogation simply wouldn¡¯t work on them. And he was confident that even torture would fail. Whatever it was about them, it had to be connected to their strange identities. So it was finally time to ask the question that had been hanging above everyone¡¯s head from the moment they first saw these two. ¡°Why are the two of you wearing square contact lenses?¡± he finally said. ¡°Is that the mark of some sort of cult?¡± he asked more himself than them. Then, he turned around. ¡°Anyone here know of any organizations with such a thing as their signature?¡± Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! ¡°Actually,¡± the male spoke, looking mighty pleased with himself. ¡°I believe that the way we got these was by¡ª¡± Midway through his sentence, the space around the man¡¯s mouth morphed, and his words turned into high-pitched squeals and whistles. The surrounding elders readied their weapons. But there was nothing to fight. After not even a second, the man stopped talking. His mouth was bleeding openly, his lips looking as if they had been cut apart. ¡°Oh,¡± he said. ¡°I see.¡± *** Mark and Nahar boarded the floating ship that would take them back to Starhold. The gray, utilitarian, metallic interior reflected Mark¡¯s mood quite aptly as he sat there, unable to get his mind off the subject. It was frustrating. More than Madame¡¯s silence and the confusing nature of the entire case, he was frustrated that, essentially, he didn¡¯t deserve to know. His role there had been to take the blame he rightfully deserved, to confess his sins so that the man wouldn¡¯t unjustly direct his anger at Madame. Speaking of whom, she finally boarded the ship, too, and stepped into a small room to the side, leaving the two men by themselves. Nahar moved over to sit beside him as he patted his shoulder. ¡°What are your thoughts?¡± he asked. Mark¡¯s eyes momentarily slid to face the man, only having enough strength to raise high enough to side-eye Nahar¡¯s knees as he dropped them to face the floor again. ¡°I don¡¯t know. I really don¡¯t know.¡± ¡°Understandable,¡± Nahar said. He let the moment hang for a while as he patted Mark¡¯s shoulder again. ¡°But you¡¯re being greedy.¡± That startled him into finally looking the man in the face. ¡°In what way?¡± he asked. ¡°You¡¯re taking all the blame.¡± That¡­ That sounded like an excuse. Indeed, it wasn¡¯t he who had sent Freddy to that camp, but he was the one who had sent him down that path. He hadn¡¯t done everything, but he¡¯d done enough. As scared as he had been to meet him, the fact that they failed to find that man was infinitely regrettable. More than anything, he wanted to come face to face and apologize. But he most likely wouldn¡¯t get the chance to do that. While the body might still be alive¡­ the owner might no longer be the same person. *** Narcisse walked past the two young men and into her private compartment as she breathed out. Her breath was shaky, and her mind was racing. With a shivering hand, she extracted a notebook out of her storage ring. It appeared with a pop of the air being displaced to accommodate it. The notebook was a frilly pink item with numerous hearts and flowers drawn all over it. She flipped it open. Her eyes scanned through the notes she had taken. All of her speculation and guesswork, all the details she had believed had come together perfectly. The timing of the camp¡¯s destruction and the sporadic life force signature she felt, the specifics in the reports they had scoured through, and her own intelligence gathering unit collecting information beforehand. Slowly, almost fearfully, she reached the ultimate conclusion of her speculation. FREDDY STERN DESTROYED CAMP VIOLET. Her talent was something that worked best when absolutely nobody knew about it. It was Life Signature. It acted as a quasi-tracking ability she could put on a target and, if the target remained close, could sense its position. If someone was right before her, she could feel the intricacies of how that person¡¯s body worked, both in general and at that moment. She could tell when someone was preparing themselves to attack because she could sense the tightening of their muscles. It was even possible to partly infer whether someone was lying or telling the truth purely based on their physical reaction. The further away the entity being tracked went, the weaker the ability became. It didn¡¯t take much for the tracking aspect to stop working altogether. But the connection couldn¡¯t be severed. Not even by entering another realm. Well, not through any means anyone had discovered yet, but nobody had even found out what her talent did, let alone how to counter it. Although she couldn¡¯t put it on infinite targets, she could use it enough times at once to always have a tracker on every individual that was important to her at that moment. One of those people was Freddy Stern. One of the most valuable aspects of her talent was that she could tell the general health of anyone she used it on, even if the connection was fragile. She had maintained her connection to Freddy in case she was ever handed an opportunity to retrieve him. Because how dare those bastards? Their heinous act had tarnished her reputation, and the amount of trouble she got into for allowing someone under her protection to get kidnapped was astronomical. They would pay for this, she had vowed back then. Given enough time, she would get her revenge. The story of poor old Freddy, the victim of a nasty conspiracy, would air before millions of people, showing the city lord and clan patriarch as the monsters they were. It would have been a hit at their reputation that only she could deliver, probably enough to stain it for the next hundred years, if not forever. Until Janhalar, that crafty old bastard, decided to ship the poor man into a mining expedition on Faralethal. She had believed that it was over back then. Not even she could save someone in that situation. The whole expedition was set up in a way that made it functionally impossible for anyone to escape. Yet, she couldn¡¯t bring herself to sever the bond with the young man. His life, even through the one-dimensional hole she was viewing it through, was a bloody spectacle. His physical condition suffered the types of ups and downs and lefts and rights that would leave anyone flabbergasted as to what the hell was happening to him. But nothing he had gone through prior could even begin to compare to what she felt on the day that camp was destroyed. That man had had an ocean of life flowing into him while he himself kept nearly dying over and over. It was only after her spies caught wind of the news that she made her conclusion. Freddy Stern had found some form of unique treasure and acquired the fire affinity. Then, he proceeded to wreck the camp, nearly dying to the defenders in the process. Everything lined up perfectly. Well, it mostly did. As to how he received such a massive burst of power so suddenly, it could only be attributed to the X variable¡ªor, rather, the hypothetical treasure. She took a deep breath and let the exhale wash some stress out of her body. Well. There went that hypothesis. Apparently, he had actually discovered what seemed to be another Great Anomaly and had his body stolen by some form of horror beyond comprehension. Wonderful. Whether he had been fully or partially overtaken by those things was still a mystery, but one thing was certain¡ªaccording to her talent, his body was still alive. But¡­ They had run around enough to conclude that that body was nowhere nearby. As it had been lost in the caverns, it no longer really mattered. This cave system was so far away from Starhold that that creature would likely never again interact with another human being. With some sadness at the unfortunate turn of events, she focused on her connection to the man, ready to sever it and move on. However. A frightening possibility wormed its way into the back of her mind¡ªwhat if he hadn¡¯t run off into the caverns? Even that undead seemed to be intelligent, so it was unlikely that the man had been possessed by a mindless beast. It also must have had the same, or a similar, talent as he himself; otherwise, the influx of healing would make no sense. Her mind blanked out for a moment. For a while, at least, whatever was in the man¡¯s body had spent a prolonged period in a seriously damaged state. She had tried analyzing it and had concluded that he was likely suffering from severe burn injuries, most likely as a byproduct of an untrained body using the fire affinity-slash-treasure so liberally. But why hadn¡¯t it healed? She had first concluded that it might be related to whatever he was using to get that power, either backlash or a trade-off that he couldn¡¯t simply nullify with his healing. A spirit ability could justify such a phenomenon. But what if that wasn¡¯t the case? What if the man, or the thing possessing him, had pretended to be one of the survivors and waited for the rescue team? Hastily, she rushed to the stack of papers in the corner of the room. She skimmed through one report after another. Eventually, she spotted something suspicious. One of the people rescued was a severe burn victim; apparently, an employee. On what basis had they concluded this? What evidence did they use to prove the man¡¯s identity? She dug deeper. What she found chilled her to her core. An ID¡­? That was it? Surely, they must have tried harder than that; she needed to know. And eventually, she discovered what she had been looking for: Faralethal Activity Excavation Site: Camp Violet: Destruction Investigation Report REPORT: CVDCSR-00056 Report topic: Rescue and Recovery of Subject: Peter Vane. But it didn¡¯t hold the answers she wanted to hear. ¡°Oh dear¡­¡± she breathed out as she put the papers down. There was no more room for doubt. She would confirm it by paying a visit to this man named Matthew, but she had a feeling she knew what she would find. This ordinarily wouldn¡¯t be her concern. But this was an opportunity. She couldn¡¯t destroy Basilisk by airing his dirty laundry out for the world to see¡­ But he was the sole owner of this expedition. He was the one who would be held responsible for the risks that the reckless slave camps had taken. They only needed to be this far away to ensure none of the prisoners could escape and that nobody could rescue them. Had they been closer, it would have been easier to prevent something like this from happening. A small smile appeared on her lips. She had to compile her evidence first. But it would no doubt be enough. It was time to give the empress a little update. Chapter 63 - Strange Encounter After watching his one-night stand march out of his apartment, Freddy looked around his apartment. The small living room was illuminated by the late spring early afternoon sun, and the world was his oyster. His mood had been fouled, but alas, he had made a decision. Today, he would rest. It took him roughly thirty minutes to get bored. Eventually, he stopped lying on the bed and staring at the ceiling. He didn¡¯t feel all that tired. If anything, he felt restless. There was no rush per se, but Theodore¡¯s warning weighed on his mind. The main issue with delving was that there was always risk involved. Even when overqualified, the danger was there. He had heard stories of the Crimson Twilight¡ªthe event that happened every once in a while in that realm. Not once had it gone without casualties. If he was taking risks, it must be for enough profit. He was safe enough doing ordinary delving in this realm for a while longer. But what if he got restricted? Hell, what if he was forced to take on a more difficult realm instead? If that happened, he needed to get strong enough to handle it. Taking a seated position in the middle of the living room, he did some breathing exercises to calm himself. He had been studying how to best create tempering techniques, and now, he was putting his knowledge into practice. First, he took his time. He focused on his breaths. Inevitably, his mind wandered. As it did, he acknowledged the distraction and let it go, bringing himself back to the present. Growing distracted when making a tempering technique slowed progress drastically, so it was advised to do some meditation before beginning. When he felt focused enough, he dove into his ethercosm. The first step to making a tempering technique was to permit the tiniest of trickles of essence into the body part one was trying to temper. In this case, he allowed the essence to flow into his blood. He gradually started reabsorbing it, taking some of it back while replacing it with fresh essence. Then, he simply observed. Listened to what the essence was telling him. It was a mess. It told him stories of how the blood flowed, how thick it was, how much there was, where it went, where it was created, what it was made of, and what purpose it served. He kept listening, focusing on the information he wanted to discover. Eventually, he heard it. The story of a metal. It was jumbled and indistinct¡ªfor now, but he released that piece of essence back into his blood and listened again. Through numerous cycles, he heard enough. Iron coursed through his veins, carried in red cells that helped transport oxygen around his body. Then, by mimicking the flow of essence he observed, he primed those cells to take on even more iron. It was an exhausting process that required far more focus than Pool of Blood. Eventually, he decided to take a break and realized that he was quite hungry. That was right¡ªhe hadn¡¯t eaten anything that day. Then, he looked up, facing the clock on the wall. His eyes widened slightly. It was already 9 p.m.? He¡¯d been sitting there for so long without noticing¡­ He chuckled, getting up. He prepared himself to make his dinner as he failed to notice the ether shell for Crimson Mercury in his soul, already formed enough to be crystallized, and Bloodshed, staring at its master¡¯s work with reverence. *** ¡°I don¡¯t believe such a rule exists,¡± the woman told him. It was the day after, and Freddy stood in the hub, fully armored and talking to a receptionist. He had just asked her if there were any rules about overhunting. ¡°However,¡± the woman continued, ¡°there are cases where the owner manually stepped in to prevent certain people from delving when their styles were too destructive.¡± ¡°¡­ Go on,¡± he urged. ¡°A poison expert and a certain fire caster are the two primary culprits as to why gorels are the only remaining living species of monster in the realm. And there have been cases where severely overqualified parties were banned from entering because they were chasing the other delvers away. As for you¡­ sir¡­¡± she said hesitantly, ¡°you are at the beginning of the second star. As long as you¡¯re in the recommended range of power, and you don¡¯t destroy the bodies you collect, you will not have any limits imposed on your delving,¡± she assured him. He hummed at that. ¡°Thank you for the information,¡± he said, then turned around and walked to one of the empty couches in the lobby. Well then. That complicated things. He fished the letter out of his pocket and opened it. He hadn¡¯t read the whole thing yet. This time, rather than just skimming the contents, he took his time and read through everything. The letter was a formal invitation from a man named Jacob Santorio. The text stank of corporate copywriting, so full of platitudes and humblebrags that it made him feel sick reading it. To sum it up¡ªJacob, the son of Leonard Santorio, was creating a new party. Leonard, as was mentioned at least thrice in the text, owned the entirety of the gorel hub, which he just learned was actually called the Santorio Hub¡­ He didn¡¯t know whether to laugh or cry when he remembered the name of the biggest nearby training center. So these bastards pretty much owned this entire district, didn¡¯t they? The letter continued into a politely phrased invitation to participate in an interview that would take place in a week. There were no threats or warnings or any sign that he couldn¡¯t just refuse to show up. But he knew better than to lower his guard. It would be bizarre for Theodore to warn him like that without proper cause. He was likely ¡°instructed¡± to ¡°subtly hint¡± at ¡°restrictions¡± if Freddy ¡°failed to show up.¡± So, in summary, he was being softly coerced into joining a newly formed party through threats of petty retaliation if he didn¡¯t. As for why they wanted him, Theodore had likely shared pretty much everything he knew about Freddy. Based on how he had presented himself and how he had acted, it was evident that he was powerful, cautious, and hard-working. Tough, too, which was desirable for a close-range brawler. Although he would usually get angry at such bullying and power abuse, he had to admit it was hard to get mad at such a damn good offer. Life in a penthouse with all living expenses covered, full access to their training facilities, which he already knew were immensely pricy if he wanted to pay for access himself, and a fair, merit-based share of profits which would now be free from the insane 50% fee that everyone else suffered under. Naturally, this didn¡¯t come for free. He wasn¡¯t being offered a place in this party¡ªhe was being invited to an interview. He still had to pass to join. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he pondered his options. While joining the party was tempting, it wasn¡¯t a good idea. His unique affinity, Blood Sacrifice, and Leviathan¡¯s Fury were all something that shouldn¡¯t be revealed willy-nilly. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Something like an ice affinity would be easy to blow off since it''s common enough for water archs to get it after ascending, but this perished water business was obviously more complicated than that. The two special abilities were even more bizarre, and their discovery could invite unwanted curiosity. There was always the possibility of just keeping them a secret¡ªbut how viable was that? Were there methods they could use to check his soul? He didn¡¯t know enough about the subject to take the chance. He almost missed the Freddy of old, that naive little dumbass that didn¡¯t think for even a moment before rushing into stupid decisions. As much as actually using his brain improved his quality of life, it was also pretty damn tiring at times. For now, he decided to ignore the threat. There was no reason to limit himself while he still had the opportunity to maximize his profits. As for whether he would take the interview¡­ he¡¯d decide by next week. He subtly made the letter vanish into his dimension ring, where it wouldn¡¯t rustle and cause noise and headed down into the basement. ¡°Oh, boy,¡± he sighed as he made his way down. The lobby was crowded as all hell, and numerous less-experienced parties were sitting around and waiting. A glance at the large passage confirmed it. It was nighttime in the realm. While more experienced parties didn¡¯t care, newbies tended to retreat when the night fell. Although it was hazardous, he didn¡¯t hesitate to push past the crowds and walk out through the passage. Nighttime was too frequent for him to sit around and wait for it to pass. Not to mention that even when it was day, it could flip to night whenever. Avoiding it made people less prepared to face it at an inopportune time. The glow of the lobby lights shone through the passage, illuminating the surrounding area like the light coming out of a garage in the dead of the night. In contrast, the realm was like a moonless night with stormy clouds in the distance; pure darkness¡ªbarring the intermittent flashes of colorful light coming from the many spots where the delvers were fighting. Sighing deeply, he started walking, taking his flashlight out and turning it on. He had already taken one of the perception-boosting pills. It felt stronger for some reason, as if the lack of light made his body compensate by boosting his hearing. The soft rustling of leaves and the distant, muffled echoes of combat filled his ears, giving the realm an eerie backdrop that lingered along the length of his spine, preparing him for danger at any moment. Twisting a part of the flashlight, he turned the light down to the minimum. He could see well enough with just a bit of light, and the weaker he kept it, the lower the odds of a monster spotting him and rushing him before he was ready to face it. Hunting at night was a lot less convenient than during the day. Even with enhanced perception, it was near-impossible to see the monsters in the dark, even if he could hear them. After a while, he heard the sounds of distant rustling. He climbed a rock and tried looking in their general direction. They were around fifty meters away. During the day, he could easily identify the number of gorels and their types, even from that distance. But at night? Their dark furs blended into the shadows almost seamlessly, and he could barely even catch a glimpse of movement. If he shone the flashlight, they¡¯d see him and rush him. Without knowing what he was getting into, attacking was stupid. What if one of them was a deviant? He¡¯d been rather lucky the day before as he hadn¡¯t encountered any deviants, but they were an ever-present danger. Sighing, he climbed down from the rock. He¡¯d keep heading out, and eventually, he would hopefully find a group where he could reliably identify that there were one or two through hearing alone. His steps carried him forward, and as time passed, he became more and more anxious. A bad feeling bubbled in his gut, as if his intuition was trying to tell him something. But he heard nothing. He saw nothing. Yet, he listened to his guts. He stopped, taking a moment to check his surroundings with the flashlight. The light shone across the nearby rocks, but he found nothing there. Still, he decided to oblige his instincts and changed course, backtracking slightly to take a turn down a safer path. But the feeling didn¡¯t go away. If anything, it grew more intense. Something was deeply wrong. As if on cue, just as he had the thought, his surroundings lit up as day overtook night. He couldn¡¯t help but sigh in relief, but a moment later, that proved to be premature. A misplaced foot knocked a stone over behind him. Freddy whirled, turning around to see what it was. Not even three meters away from him, standing on the top of a rock, was a small, blood-red gorel with nearly half-meter-long claws of blood, looming over him and preparing to strike. ¡°Son of a¡ª¡± he screamed as the gorel lunged at him, and he raised his guard, blocking the swing of its claws with his bracers, but like a knife through warm butter, the attack shredded his armor and dug deep into his right arm, drawing blood and causing him to partially lose feeling in his fingers. He groaned as he dodged another swing, and just as it was about to take a third, he kicked with a Flowing Strike, but the gorel dodged and pulled back, making some space between them. The absolute greatest priority in dealing with a deviant was determining their talent. But in this case, the answer was readily apparent¡ªthis thing could conceal its presence, which was why he had failed to hear it as it was stalking him. Its blood affinity seemed to be founded upon Crimson Mercury, as was evident by the long, metal-like claws. And there was a tremendous problem. This thing was powerful. It was a worker by nature, it seemed, as could be seen by its small form. The claws were produced by an ability, and its spoon-like fingers could be seen beneath, curled into tight fists. This thing was trouble. Big trouble. It didn¡¯t move like the other dull, clumsy gorels. It had finesse and was clearly an experienced hunter. Judging by its power, which was at the second star, he was far from its first victim. It didn¡¯t growl or posture needlessly, simply evaluating him with the cold, merciless gaze of a killer. Too bad, however. He knew its talent, and as he had been studying the Crimson Mercury path, he knew damn well what tricks it could pull. But it had no idea what he was capable of. ¡°You¡¯ll pay for wrecking my armor, you little shit,¡± he declared as he started moving forward. It swiftly dodged to the side and lunged at him, using its long claws to get a swing in on his vulnerable legs. It clearly didn¡¯t expect to suddenly find itself enveloped in a large bubble of dark water. A gurgle escaped its lips as a massive, ghastly stinger plunged into its eye, sharp phantom jaws bit its leg, and a massive shadowy claw tore its back apart. As the essence behind the attack ran out and the water vanished, leaving the bewildered creature momentarily stunned, it was warmly welcomed by a punch straight to its face, one that blew half its head off and killed it instantly. A rush of lifesteal filled his body, and he let out a breath, feeling a sharp sense of relief as the wounds on his forearm closed and stopped bleeding. That had been enough to trigger almost natural-quality healing, which meant that his wounds wouldn¡¯t suddenly open back up any time soon. But he still had to recover further. It could wait, though. He had to bring this thing back to the hub before any of its comrades smelled its blood. Just as he was hooking the creature on the rack, he heard the rolling of stones behind his back and a surprised, girly yelp. He turned around, spotting a barely-armored¡ªno, barely clothed¡ªwoman tripping over the rock formation and barely regaining her balance before she followed the stones on their way down to the ground below. She was dressed in more or less ordinary clothing, wearing a filthy, torn white T-shirt and sporty black sweatpants. Her hair was a bright shade of blonde, and her eyes were a piercing purple. There were strange spots on her skin, and she generally gave off the impression that she had some form of nasty illness. Her cheeks were puffed¡ªher left eye had a dark patch in a corner. For a long moment, Freddy got the impression that this was someone who needed rescuing. However, her tone and behavior didn¡¯t match that assumption. She blew air out of her lips and groaned. ¡°That was close¡­¡± His eyes closed into slits as he watched the arch make her way down the formation. As far as he could tell, she was weak. Pathetically so. Pretty much at the beginning of the first star. This was incredibly suspicious. Purple eyes were uncommon, making them a feature one usually got due to an ascension. Not to mention that her¡¯s almost seemed to glow slightly. But this woman, at least from what he could tell, hadn¡¯t ascended yet. Either that, or she was hiding it. Shifting the gorel corpse behind his back, he called, ¡°Who are you?¡± ¡°Oh, crap!¡± she cursed, ¡°You already killed it!¡± she spat without any shame. ¡°Excuse me?¡± ¡°Never mind,¡± she said, sighing despondently. ¡°I¡¯ll be on my way. Sorry for bothering you,¡± she said. Then, she started walking past him. He moved the gorel corpse again and made space for her to pass. ¡°What!?¡± she asked angrily. ¡°I¡¯m not here to rob you! Some people¡­¡± she spat indignantly as she shook her head. But then, just as she was about to walk past him, she stopped and took a long breath through her nose. For a brief moment, her eyes flicked to the gorel corpse he was hiding behind his back, opening wide in surprise, ¡°Wait a minute,¡± she said, and then she looked at him. Her purple eyes had a radiance behind them, a sort of gluttony that put him on edge. ¡°It¡¯s you.¡± He reflexively took a step back and raised his guard with one arm. Did this woman recognize him? The woman moved, and he prepared to defend himself, but¡­ ¡°Please!¡± she begged, prostrating herself on the ground before him. ¡°Give me one of your arms!¡± Chapter 64 - A Suitable Weapon Freddy stared at the sickly woman sprawled out on the ground before his feet. ¡°Uhhh¡­¡± he muttered, mind uncomprehending. The gorel corpse hanging off the rack behind his back dripped blood on the ground behind him. The sun roared up above, and the sounds of distant combat grew louder with each passing moment as more and more parties engaged, using the day as a cue to finally ambush gorels they had likely been stalking for a while already. ¡°Excuse me¡­ What did you just say?¡± he asked, unsure of whether he had heard the woman correctly the first time. ¡°Please!¡± she begged. ¡°I¡¯ll do anything for it! It doesn¡¯t even have to be a whole arm! I can do with just a fist! Or even a finger! Please!¡± What is this crazy woman talking about!? he reeled in his mind. ¡°Look, lady, uh¡­ I¡¯m not sure exactly what your angle is, but I don¡¯t intend to donate my body parts to anyone.¡± ¡°Please! It shouldn¡¯t be a problem for you!¡± she insisted. ¡°You can heal them back eventually!¡± That took him aback. For some reason, he got the impression that she didn¡¯t mean that he could pay for the healing. ¡°What makes you think that?¡± he probed cautiously, keeping his voice flat. ¡°Huh?¡± she raised her head, seemingly confused. ¡°With your talent, of course.¡± His eyes shot wide open beneath his helmet, and a light sweat broke through his skin, pooling beneath his armor and drenching his one piece underwear. He worked not to let any of this show outwardly. ¡°I can¡¯t do that,¡± he denied outright. ¡°And I do not know how you landed on that conclusion, but I¡¯d like to ask you to¡ª¡± ¡°Please!¡± she yelled again. ¡°Do you want that to remain a secret!? I won¡¯t tell anyone, I promise. I swear on my life!¡± she promised as he crawled forward and pushed her forehead further into the soil. ¡°Just one finger!¡± ¡°Stay away from me!¡± she shouted as he jumped back and raised his guard. This woman was incredibly suspicious. As far as he knew, she may have some form of illegal, sinister talent. Talent manifestation didn¡¯t follow man-made rules. But men made rules, nonetheless. Some forms of talents had to be forfeited immediately if one manifested them. There was some truly insane stuff like the infamous Infant Bomb talent a certain terrorist destroyed half a town with. People usually gave them up willingly as the reward tended to be a lot of money. But some didn¡¯t. Whatever this woman was playing at could very well be the requirement to activate some form of curse or something. He didn¡¯t doubt that it would help her in some way¡ªbut what would it cost him in return? ¡°Alright! I¡¯ll¡­ I¡¯ll¡­¡± she muttered as she got up to her feet, looking quite defeated. ¡°I won¡¯t bother you any longer. Sorry for my shameful behavior. But¡­¡± she started, raising her piercing purple eyes to face him. ¡°Please consider it. My offer still stands. I¡¯ll do whatever you want in¡ª¡± ¡°Please just,¡± he interrupted her. ¡°Can you please just leave, miss?¡± Her mouth opened slightly as she nodded, her eyes falling to the ground and her shoulders sagging. Without saying anything else, she turned around and left. ¡°What the actual fuck just happened?¡± he whispered under his breath. That was¡­ certainly an interesting encounter, to say the least. He felt discombobulated at the utterly bizarre sequence of events. Regardless of her situation, she was still a one-star, completely unequipped, running around a passage realm. And given the tearing on her clothes and tell-tale signs of natural-quality healing beneath, she had made it out of at least one fight alive. As he observed her form, despite the light sagging of disappointment, he could see firmness in her step, a balance in her gait. She was well trained. She was strong. And on top of that, she was headed deeper into the passage realm, likely looking for another fight. Releasing a heavy breath, he hoisted the deviant gorel up on his back and started running back to the lobby. As he ran, he could hear the noises of several nearby groups of gorels running toward him. The natural rock formations surrounding the path slowed their approach, and his determined run was enough to lose them every time. Still, the effect of this deviant¡¯s corpse on others of its kin was undeniable. He had to hurry. A few minutes later, he finally returned and dropped the deviant off at the counter. He couldn¡¯t help but sigh when he realized it didn¡¯t drop a prime. Well, there was no point in lamenting the nature of luck. That run left him feeling rather exhausted. Before heading back in, he sat on one of the benches to drink water, eat bread, and down a can of cold-brew coffee. He used Adaptive Water body for a while to regain his inner balance, did a few minutes of meditation, another few of gathering to replenish his lost reserves, and then went right back to hunting. For the most part, the hunt went well. The day stuck around, and he could hunt as efficiently as he did on his first day. Whenever the fatigue began setting in, he staved it off with either a canned coffee or an energy drink. Rather than cutting his delve short, he decided to stick around longer this time. The gym could wait. For that week, profits were the priority. He worked to keep his essence consumption to the minimum, but it became increasingly difficult the more he hunted. Even as healthy as he kept it, his body had its limits. Before long, he had to rely increasingly on Hydraulic Flex to dodge effectively, and he couldn¡¯t muster the strength for a solid attack without Flowing Strike. His body felt weak and exhausted, and his breaks grew longer between fights¡ªboth to recover his strength and to replenish his dwindling essence reserves. A headache slowly crept up his forehead and towards the back of his head. Stalking like a predator, he set his sights on a small group of three worker gorels. Unhesitatntly, he ran toward them, already confirming that the surrounding area was empty of other threats. The gorels hissed and growled at him, but he lunged in, taking a Flowing Strike-fueled punch¡­ and missed, stumbling and tripping on the ground. Just as he regained himself, he had to use Hydraulic Flex to dodge a heavy fist that was flying down on his head, and a pang of pain shot through his leg as a gorel bit him. He grabbed the overextended fist of the gorel that tried smashing his skull, and, with a Flowing Strike, swung its body, timing the ability to use the force transference to send the creature flying at a nearby tree, but it wasn¡¯t enough; it slammed with a meaty thud and bounced to the ground, howling and limping, but it wasn¡¯t down for the count. If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. It was time to get desperate. He swung down to kick the one biting his leg, activating both his stars to blow its skull into bits. A jolt of agony shot through his right hip and knee, and his foot felt as if the ability had detached its skin, turning it into a loose bag of blood. The third gorel came, and he used Create Perished Water to stave it off. The ability was enough to injure the creature grievously, but it persisted, and he was forced to use it again. Both times, he felt a rather substantial flood of lifesteal, and the second time, one of the phantasmal jaws took a nasty bite out of the creature¡¯s cheek; with that, it was chased away, making an escape together with the one he had flung at the tree earlier. He gulped air heavily, feeling as if he was drowning. Thankfully, he didn¡¯t have to resort to Leviathan¡¯s Fury. Sweat and blood covered most of his body, and his arms shook. It took him a good while of swinging the machete at the grass to fully heal himself, but even then, something felt off. How did he tumble like that at the beginning of the fight? He didn¡¯t remember what happened. It was as if, for a moment, the world turned dark when he swung his fist. He worked to rack the one gorel he had managed to kill. In the middle of attaching the hook to the thick skin behind its neck, everything blacked out, and he regained himself only after he had fallen over to the ground. ¡°What the fuck¡­?¡± he whispered. He was healed. There shouldn¡¯t be anything off about his body. And, as far as he could tell, he didn¡¯t feel bad. He didn¡¯t even feel tired. He felt wide awake¡ª Yet again, another pang of weakness overwhelmed him, and he kept his presence of mind long enough to realize what was happening. He was falling asleep! He reached for his bag and pulled out an energy drink. Deciding to leave the gorel corpse behind, he ran back to the lobby¡ªonly for day to suddenly shift into night. ¡°Oh¡­ shit!¡± he screamed. ¡°Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!¡± This was bad. Really bad. He strained his brain to its limits as he worked to keep himself awake. One energy drink after another went down his throat, and at one point, he had to stop to puke his guts out. The bursts of fatigue came more and more frequently. But eventually, he spotted the dim light of the passage leading back into the lobby. When he came close enough to be well and truly within the green zone and out of danger, he breathed a sigh of relief¡ªone that pushed him over the edge. His eyes closed, and he tumbled to the ground, just a bit in front of the passage. I need to stop letting myself get into situations like these, he thought tiredly, at least relieved that he would fall asleep somewhere where he was unlikely to get robbed. *** He didn¡¯t know how long had passed, but eventually, he woke up. He found himself lying on the bench inside the lobby. As expected, someone had found him and taken him back inside. Getting up with a jolt, he looked around. People sat around him, but nobody even looked at him as he woke up. He took note of his belongings. He felt both the rings still on his finger. All of his equipment was still on his body, even if much of it was heavily damaged and drenched in blood. His bag was leaning against the wall. Looking inside, nothing was missing. Not that there was much in it, to begin with. Just to make sure everything was alright, he turned to face the group sitting to his right. ¡°Excuse me,¡± he called the man in the front. ¡°Hmm?¡± the man hummed, ¡°is there something you need?¡± ¡°Did anything strange happen to me while I was asleep?¡± he asked. The man seemed confused by the question. He took a glance at his comrades; they all shrugged in turn. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± the man said. ¡°Nobody touched you, if that¡¯s what you¡¯re wondering. We¡¯ve been sitting here for maybe two hours, and you¡¯ve been out cold since we arrived.¡± ¡°Two hours!?¡± he shrieked. Turning around, he spotted the clock on the room''s far end. 9:57 p.m. ¡°Jesus Christ¡­¡± He had started that last hunt at around 3 p.m., maybe half an hour before he passed out, meaning that he had been out of it for¡­ what¡­ almost seven hours? He tried asking several other groups, but they all said the same thing. Nobody had seen what happened. Eventually, he made his way to the clerks. There, he was told that someone had dragged him inside after finding him passed out not too far from the passage and that the person who had brought him back requested that they remain anonymous. The clerk also gave him a bill for an emergency medical examination that had to be performed because he was found bloody and battered. His body was naturally perfectly fine, which resulted in them simply leaving him to sleep it off on the bench, but that didn¡¯t stop them from charging him 5,000 dollars for the service. Although that made him want to punch someone, there wasn¡¯t much point in fighting them over it, so he simply let it go and asked to have his profits tallied for that day. The receipt included the cost of the medical bill, totaling 20,913 dollars after the costs and fees. That was a lot of money. The deviant alone had gone for almost ten thousand. Well, the corpse itself was 5,000, but it apparently had a nearly 5,000 dollar bounty on top of that. Despite the impressive profit, he was dissatisfied. After all, it seemed that he had hit a limit, and he had a hunch that he knew what it was. Although he could prevent permanent damage, it appeared that abusing energy drinks and coffee could only take him so far. His talent could heal from the damage, but, well¡­ it seemed that the simple need for sleep didn¡¯t count. He wondered about that. He knew that his talent could undo the damage from a lack of sleep. But it seemed that it couldn¡¯t stop his brain from simply shutting down due to running out of energy. Speaking of which, despite the hours of sleep he had, he felt dead tired. There was a shop on the second floor of the building where one could get their gear fixed. It was where he had gone to get it adjusted previously, and the damage to his equipment was more than severe enough to justify another visit. He went to one of the stripping rooms and took everything off, placing it in a small basket in the corner. The basket retracted into the wall, taking his clothes with it. He waited butt-naked for roughly fifteen minutes, and his gear was returned to him. Fixed, but¡­ clearly battered. The bracers had notable marks where the gashes had been filled in, and the underwear had new patches of cloth added to where it had been torn. His pants and jacket were also sewn back together. The fixes were relatively crude and straightforward, so it only cost him a few hundred dollars. While they could charge whatever they wanted for medical services, gear maintenance had to remain affordable for one simple reason¡ªif the cost of repair was too high, people would just buy new equipment instead. Frankly, the visible maintenance was welcome. If he had no scars to show, at least his equipment would be proof of his experience. On his way back home, he bought ten kilograms of beef liver at a store. When he returned, he stashed most of it in the freezer and made dinner with the rest. Liver was a great source of dietary iron, and he needed a lot of it to grow his Crimson Mercury. Once he was done with his meal, he decided to use an hour before sleep to work on the tempering technique. As he started, he found himself quite surprised. The shell was pretty much already done. ¡°Huh¡­¡± he mused. That was a surprise but a damn welcome one. That meant that he could have been done with it yesterday. After doing some extra work to polish the shell, he finally crystallized it. The poor scattering of wisps couldn¡¯t fuel his essence for long, unfortunately, so after only ten minutes, he finished his day, sprawling out on the bed and instantly falling asleep. *** Freddy arrived at the hub the next day, coming in late after sleeping in. If the previous day had taught him anything, it was that if he wanted to hunt more, he would have to hunt more efficiently. And if he wanted to do that, he needed to both rely less on essence and conserve his stamina. Usually, a good way to do so was to use a weapon. It took much less energy to plunge a spear into a gorel¡¯s eye than it did to punch it to death. He walked out into the realm, facing¡­ night again. Brilliant. As far as the whole spear thing went¡­ he had to admit it; he couldn¡¯t really see himself wielding a weapon. On that note, he took the dagger out of the storage ring. It appeared in his grip. Frankly, he barely knew how to hold it properly. Numerous ideas had gone through his mind while researching everything he did about the blood affinity. Among the first was the idea of manifesting a direct extension to the dagger, either extending it or turning it into a sword. This idea was all right, but from what he had gathered, it wouldn¡¯t make the dagger¡¯s effect more efficient than just conjuring a whole sword in his second hand. But swords weren¡¯t easy to use. And frankly, they didn¡¯t really fit with the style he was creating. A slight grin formed on his face as he felt his knuckles itch. While ordinary weapons wouldn¡¯t suit him¡­ He had found an ability that would. Chapter 65 - Tracking Progress The fact that it was nighttime made things rather difficult for Freddy. He was supposed to form a new ability that day, but if it was nighttime, there was no way he could afford to use something experimental in life-or-death situations. Thankfully, he had a solution on hand. Taking a turn down a path he usually avoided, he started his journey. He was passed by a group of three people wearing the shiniest equipment he had seen in a while. They thoroughly ignored him, and judging by the fact that he couldn¡¯t even detect their power, it was likely that they were peak two-stars. He hadn¡¯t seen them around anywhere before, but either way, they were of no interest to him. It took him quite a while to reach his destination. He kept a brisk, hurried walking pace without breaking into a run, mostly to ensure he stayed as quiet and unnoticeable as possible. He only ran into one guard gorel that he swiftly dispatched with a kick to the head. Just to be polite, he threw the corpse over the wall and into the woods to ensure that a squad of gorels didn¡¯t gather there. It could prove to be a minor inconvenience to the type of people heading where he was going. After around an hour of travel, he finally reached it¡ªthe border of the realm. Tall, jagged cliffs surrounded the outer perimeter, and right at the end of the path, there was a metal door embedded into the wall. Behind it was another passage, one leading into a far more dangerous area. To both sides of the entrance, two guards stood at ease, eyeing him cautiously. He waved at them and turned left instead. As was the case with the first passage, the surrounding area of this one was desolate. That was because all of the gorel hives had been manually collapsed, and any attempt to build a new one would be stopped immediately. There was still the risk of a stray deviant wandering around these parts, but he wasn¡¯t particularly afraid of that happening. In the same way most people avoided passages like the plague, monsters, too, instinctively knew that nothing good would come from lurking around the entrance to a dangerous area. After around five minutes of jogging, he reached where he wanted to go. It was a clearing right beside the cliffside. Nothing interesting or unique about it. But to him, it was invaluable. Because it was a patch of pure wilderness. It wasn¡¯t a perfect solution to his lack of access to a forest. For starters, plants were few and far between here, and it wasn¡¯t like he was the only arch that needed some privacy. But it would do for the time being. First thing first, he found a nearby stone, sat on it, then pulled out a notebook. He could just barely see the writing in the darkness of the night, courtesy of his two-star eyesight and the perception-boosting pill, so he refrained from attracting attention by using his flashlight. There, written on the notebook''s first page, was his new habit. He had started more carefully tracking his progress; that way, he could tell how he was growing and where he was lagging behind. It also worked to give him a better idea of what he had access to. He squinted his eyes as he read his writing. GATHERING: Second star¡ª112% Essence capacity TALENT: 1% Lifesteal: Dynamic-quality healing SOUL CONSTRUCT: Scythe: Essence Extraction TEMPERING TECHNIQUES: Blood affinity: Pool of Blood: Stage 1¡ª3% Progress Crimson Mercury: Stage 0¡ª2% Progress Water affinity: Adaptive Water Body: Stage 1¡ªComplete Thousand Wet Hells: Stage 1¡ª1% Progress Abyssal Depths: Stage 1¡ª9% Progress ACTIVE ABILITIES: Blood affinity: None Water affinity: Flowing Strike: Stage 1¡ª15% Progress Hydraulic Flex: Stage 0¡ªReady to upgrade Create Water: Stage 1¡ª20% Progress Pressure Jet: Unfinished ether shell Perished water affinity: Perished Water: Stage ?¡ª? Progress That Other Ability: No idea UNIQUE (?) ABILITIES (No clue what these are exactly): Blood Sacrifice: Stage ? Leviathan¡¯s Fury: Stage ? UNIQUE CURSED ITEMS: Blood Ring: -3% essence cost, +2% power for blood-affinity abilities. Can be used to release Bloodshed. CURSED ITEMS: Dagger of Bleeding: Melee attacks cause extra bleeding The first thing that stood out was the lack of active blood abilities. That was the main reason he was there on that day. But it wasn¡¯t the only thing of note. He also hadn¡¯t upgraded his Hydraulic Flex yet. Although it would take a while to find the exact vestige he needed, he knew exactly what he would do with it. Other than that, there was also the gap in knowledge regarding his perished water affinity and the tentatively named ¡®Unique Abilities.¡¯ No matter how hard he looked, he found no mention of anyone ever doing what he had done with Bloodshed and Leviathan. His ring also hadn¡¯t grown in power yet, despite the gorel slaughter he had committed. Thus, he had no idea what to expect. Maybe it would take ages to see a notable increase; maybe he would get a massive power boost from it soon enough. Time would tell. Returning the notebook to his dimension ring, he focused. It was time to begin the development of his newest ability. It took him a literal second to notice a major problem: his gloves didn¡¯t allow blood to flow freely through them. That¡­ Yeah, that would have to change. Taking his gloves off made his hands feel vulnerable in a way he couldn¡¯t describe. He wore those things everywhere since he didn¡¯t want anyone to see his rings. Unfortunately, he needed his hands free if he wanted to use the ability he had decided on. Weapons weren¡¯t his thing. For him, his body was the weapon. And with the ability he was about to create, that wouldn¡¯t change by much. Blood pooled around his knuckles, pouring out of the skin around his fingers on his right hand. As he balled his hand into a fist, the surface along his fingers between his knuckles was eventually fully covered in blood, turning into a sort of thick red plating. Focusing on his essence control and taking it slowly, he made the blood slowly form tiny spikes along the surface. It was quite damn difficult. Making one or two spikes was relatively easy, but the blood was still liquid¡ªhe had to manually maintain its shape until it was ready to coagulate. Three small, or, hell, even three large spikes, was easy. But he wasn¡¯t going to settle for that. Gradually, as he got more comfortable with manipulating blood outside his body, the spikes grew in number. They were quite jagged and nasty, but thankfully, that wasn¡¯t at all detrimental to the ability he was trying to form. Eventually, his right fist was covered by around two dozen spikes, thick enough not to break easily and nasty enough to cause severe damage. With that achievement, the ether shell was complete enough to crystallize into his new ability¡ªGore Knuckles. As far as Crimson Mercury abilities went, this one was pretty rare. There were many better, less bizarre options to pick from. But this suited him perfectly. He barely had to change his style, and such a brutal appendage was perfect for maximizing the effect of 1% Lifesteal. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. He shed the blood he had formed on his right hand and flexed his fingers. Then, he used his new ability. Immediately, finger-length spikes of coagulated blood formed on his right-hand knuckles. A massive smile spread on his face. The essence expenditure had been minimal¡ªso small he barely even felt it leave a dent in his reserves. This was another advantage of this ability. Not only did it use little blood, but it also cost minimal essence due to the low volume. His predatory gaze sought the nearest tree. He got up and approached, taking a swing at it. Immediately, all the spikes crumbled into bloody slush upon impact. As was to be expected. It was stage zero, an entirely new ability. It was only natural that it would suck. And his Crimson Mercury still did close to nothing, meaning that his blood was mostly just ordinary. Still, he was quite satisfied. Speaking of Crimson Mercury, while the night still lasted, he decided to spend some more time working on the tempering technique. Out of habit, he entered the Netherecho to do some gathering and to replenish his essence¡ª ¡°Jesus¡ª¡± he screamed as he dodged the attack of a rocky remnant and rushed back into his body. ¡°Oh yeah,¡± he spluttered, breathing heavily after that jumpscare. ¡°Kind of forgot that I¡¯m in a passage realm.¡± Not a major problem, however. He had access to something of a bodyguard. ¡°Greetings, Master,¡± Bloodshed said, saluting him as soon as it appeared before him. ¡°Bloodshed!¡± he greeted enthusiastically. ¡°So nice to see you outside again!¡± ¡°Do you need me for anything, Master?¡± it cut to the chase. ¡°Yeah,¡± he said, a massive grin appearing on his face. ¡°Can you clear the surrounding Netherecho for me? Oh, and please gather the wisps around my body so I can collect them more easily.¡± ¡°As you wish,¡± it said as it vanished from reality. He soon followed it into the Netherecho, just in time to witness it punch the rocky remnant¡¯s head off. ¡°You go, Bloodshed!¡± he cheered it on. ¡°Oh, and by the way,¡± he said. ¡°Just in case you find a vestige of fluidity, don¡¯t kill it and bring it back to me in one piece, okay?¡± It nodded and returned to its slaughter. There were no above-ground sources of water in this realm, but there was a slight possibility that it could encounter a fluidity vestige somewhere on the surface. With that, for the next few hours, he spent his time merrily growing his new tempering technique and basking in a flood of wisps. Slowly but surely, his Crimson Mercury skyrocketed from a measly 2% to 39% progress. By that point, he felt quite uncomfortable, almost as if his blood was burning the inside of his body. That was because his blood cells were primed to take on more iron, but there just wasn¡¯t any iron to take on. Not a problem, however. He had accounted for this earlier that day. He shuffled around his rucksack and fished out a small bottle of iron supplements. Then, he downed the entire bottle. Problem solved! In a way that was considerably easier to consume than a massive pile of beef liver. Just as he was about to continue working on his tempering technique, the world blinked into white, and the pitch darkness was replaced by warm sunlight. He got off the ground and suddenly realized that he sensed Bloodshed¡¯s presence quite far from where he was. Now that he thought about it, he hadn¡¯t seen the skeleton for a while already. Moving with a hint of panic, he rushed in the spirit¡¯s general direction, and a few minutes later, he reached it. Entering the Netherecho, he found the bloody skeleton pulling a frightened vestige by its leg. The creature it was pulling was a genie-esque floaty mass of transparent, shifting gas. ¡°Hello, Master,¡± Bloodshed greeted him. ¡°I have caught the vestige of fluidity as you ordered.¡± ¡°Fluidity?¡± he asked, turning to face the erratic vestige. ¡°Huh¡­¡± Well¡­ air was a fluid, he supposed. It wasn¡¯t what he expected to see, but for all intents and purposes, it would do just fine. ¡°Excellent job, Bloodshed!¡± he said. Then, he rushed forward and assaulted the poor vestige. ¡°Keep that thing restrained,¡± he commanded. A few seconds later, the helpless ether construct was on the verge of dissipating. Just as it started unraveling, the ether shell for Hydraulic Flex shot out of his soul and trapped it, pulling it back inside. Indeed, this was the best choice for his first Hydraulic Flex upgrade. There was the possibility of using hydraulic pressure, but that would have simply repeated the mistake he had made with Flowing Strike and Abyssal Depths. When one thought of viscosity, one didn¡¯t think of water. They thought of honey, syrup, oil, soap, or some other thick liquid. But that didn¡¯t change the fact that there were things more fluid than water. Air was one example. Using the concept of fluidity on Hydraulic Flex lowered backlash, increased speed, and reduced the essence expenditure. There was no increase in power, but that was perfectly fine. Power came at a cost. And for him, he was already paying a bloody price for Flowing Strike. If he continued down the route of ridiculously expensive Flowing Strikes, other abilities would need to be as cost-efficient as possible. As he left the Netherecho, he gave his newly upgraded ability a test run. The change was immediately apparent. It used to have an awkward lag to it that made him stiffen up. Now, that was a thing of the past. In fact, he could keep the ability active at all times, and it felt perfectly natural as a passive improvement to muscle performance. Obviously, that was a no-go if he wanted to keep his essence reserves from evaporating into thin air. Keeping it active while moving consumed around around 0.5% essence per second on average. This meant he only had a few minutes total before running out of juice. Using it felt damn good. It didn¡¯t strain his muscles as much, either, leaving him feeling almost like he had a nice stretch after using it. So this is the power of not being a dumbass¡­? he thought jokingly while staring at his hand in awe. Still, it really put things into perspective. No wonder this ability had the reputation it did. He finished his little training session by topping off his essence reserves. Then, he headed into another hunt. *** His third day of hunting went far better than his first two, finishing the count at 14,429 dollars. It was less money than the day before, but it was earned with fewer complications. He had kept his energy drink consumption to a minimum this time and tried a bit harder to maintain his stamina. No longer did he run across the quarries or sprint back to the lobby to sell his goods. He did climb trees, though, keeping a meticulous track of all that was happening in the nearby area. Rather than sprinting back and forth repeatedly, he took his time to properly bag the corpses and carried up to ten at a time instead. On that day, he saw two deviants¡ªwhite and orange, likely light and fire affinity. He stayed a respectful distance from both. The white one could possibly use Blinding Flash, which was a nasty thing to get hit by, and the fire one could use¡­ fire. And he had no clue what their talents were. Either way, fighting them wasn¡¯t a good idea. His upgraded Hydraulic Flex was a joy to use in combat, and Gore Knuckles, while still pretty useless, were becoming less and less fragile every time he used the ability. And it grew rapidly, making 52% progress in a single day of fighting. Most stage zero abilities grew swiftly when used by a two-star, and given how far he was pushing himself, the progress came as no surprise. After dragging his final load, he walked over to the nearest bench and sagged. He was damn tired. Mentally more than physically. It had been a hard day of work, and he had no intent to exercise or study. He reached into his bag and then pulled out his notebook. In reality, he pulled it out of his dimension ring. He was just trying to make it seem like it had been in his backpack. Just as he was about to write down his progress for the day, a person approached him. It was an average-height part-Asian man. At first glance, he appeared somewhat nerdy with his neat hair combed to the sides and bulky armor. At second glance, it became evident that this man was powerful. His equipment was in excellent condition, but it didn¡¯t look new. There were many signs of repair, but they were subtle, clearly high-quality work. A lot of work, too. He wore a thick black jacket with a puffy vest over it, dark pants partially covered in scales, and boots that Freddy knew had to have cost at least a hundred thousand dollars. There was also a helmet hanging off his back. He returned the notebook back into his bag and cautiously greeted the man, ¡°Hello,¡± he said. ¡°How can I help you?¡± ¡°I apologize if this is a rude question, but,¡± the man started in a clear, well-spoken voice. ¡°Were you the man found unconscious outside the realm yesterday?¡± ¡°Why does that concern you?¡± he asked with a slight edge to his voice. ¡°Please, take no offense,¡± the man insisted. ¡°I¡¯m simply here to ask about the woman who brought you inside.¡± His eyes narrowed. ¡°What woman?¡± ¡°Excuse me?¡± the man asked. ¡°Ah, you don¡¯t know?¡± ¡°The clerks told me that the person wanted to remain anonymous,¡± he responded. ¡°That¡¯s a bummer,¡± the man said, sighing. ¡°Can you at least tell me what she looks like?¡± He still had no clue who the man was talking about. ¡°Oh, right, sorry. It should be easy to recognize her¡ªher skin is flaking off, and she looks swollen. Other than that, she is blonde and has purple eyes.¡± His eyes widened beneath the helmet as he nearly choked. That¡¯s who brought me in!? That crazy bitch!? He immediately feared that she might have done something to him, but¡­ well, all of his limbs were still there. And he hadn¡¯t felt anything alarming. The man talking to him suddenly turned around and shouted, ¡°Hey! Miss!¡± Freddy raised his head and spotted the woman they had been talking about. She looked considerably worse than she had when he saw her the day before and was in the middle of walking into the passage. The man rushed after her, and she stopped, turning to face him. They were quite far from where Freddy was, so he had to strain his ears to hear the conversation. Without the perception-boosting pill, he probably wouldn¡¯t have understood anything. The two of them had a quick conversation. The man introduced himself as Phillip Parker and told the woman to stop delving into the passage. She wasn¡¯t being banned necessarily¡ªwell, not yet. Apparently, she hadn¡¯t been bringing the corpses of the monsters she was killing back to the lobby. It wasn¡¯t forbidden to leave some bodies behind, per se, but she hadn¡¯t brought back a single one. It wouldn¡¯t have been a big deal if she was giving the corpses to other delvers, either, but apparently, whatever she was doing to them made them rapidly rot away and decay in a matter of hours. This was basically vandalism. Access to this realm was free because the hunting fee covered the price. Her style of hunting wasn¡¯t allowed. She apologized profusely, saying that she would start bringing corpses back. The man gave her a stern but polite warning and walked away, advising her to take care of herself and telling her to treat whatever condition she had before it got worse. What a nice guy. The woman sagged as she started turning around. Her eyes flickered in his direction for a moment, but she merely sighed and turned around, walking through the passage. Freddy¡¯s fists clenched. What the hell was her deal? Had she not helped him to ask for whatever she needed in return? A fury bubbled in his chest. This wasn¡¯t his problem, he told himself. She was incredibly suspicious, he argued. But his anger only grew. Because despite all the effort he put into stopping himself, his legs stood him up and carried him forward. Moments later, he grabbed the woman by the arm. She turned around with a start, surprised at his appearance. ¡°Tell me,¡± he barked. ¡°What the hell do you want?¡± Chapter 66 - Life Sparks Phillip made his way out of the Santorio Hub, sighing deeply. He jostled his rough fingers through his neatly combed hair as he made his way back. He wasn¡¯t having the best day of his life. The entirety of last week had been awful, actually. Just a few minutes ago, he had finished an errand that should have by no means been his responsibility. Not only did he feel terrible for ruining that woman¡¯s day, but he had lost several hours looking for her. ¡°That man is truly outrageous,¡± he whispered, shaking his head. Slowly but surely, his steps took him back to the Santorio Training Centre. There, he greeted the flamboyant clerk and made his way down the right corridor, walking past most of the facility until he reached the elevator. Four buttons were on the side, including the one for the floor he was on. The rest were for the three upper floors. Rather than touch any of them, he took a key out of his storage ring and lifted a small, near-invisible hatch. He inserted the key and turned it. A pleasant ringing sounded from the crystal embedded into the wall, and the elevator started. But it didn¡¯t go up¡ªit went down to the private part of the facility. After almost a minute of waiting, he entered the underground chamber. The arrays of hyper-specialized machines and other equipment sat empty as nobody was using them at that moment. Unhesitantly, he turned and walked over to a door at the far end of the room. He pressed a finger to the scanner, and moments later, the door raised. Before it was even fully opened, he was already moving his head to the right to dodge the projectile that would no doubt come. As expected, he got out of the way just in time to avoid the 10 kg dumbbell that would have bashed his face in. ¡°What did I say about bothering me when I¡¯m training, you fucking nerd!?¡± Sat on the ground of the combat simulation chamber with his legs crossed was a tall man with his shirt off, showcasing his rippling physique, scattered with a few faded scars, and his long, lush, blonde hair tied into a ponytail behind his back. This man was Jacob Santorio. A twenty-three-year-old brat who had no respect for anything or anyone. Jacob¡¯s family was just powerful enough that Phillip couldn¡¯t use his own as a shield against him, so he had to tolerate whatever the man threw at him, be it literal projectiles or stupid errands that should be the responsibility of a hub employee. ¡°Sorry for disturbing you, Jakes,¡± Phillip snarkily said. ¡°As per our agreement, though, I do have the right to come in here whenever I want, even if your royal highness is busy posing on the ground.¡± ¡°Watch your mouth, cheese steak,¡± Jacob retorted. ¡°I still get the final say on whether you stay or not.¡± While kicking Phillip out of the party would anger at least three people who shouldn¡¯t be messed with, that didn¡¯t mean Jacob was smart enough not to do it anyway. With gritted teeth, he swallowed bile and decided to be the bigger man. ¡°Yes, I apologize.¡± The blonde man scoffed. ¡°Stay quiet. I¡¯m working on a new ability.¡± It took the patience of a saint not to break at that moment and scream at the man. First, why was he making a new ability in the combat simulation chamber? Second, why didn¡¯t he move to a gathering chamber and do it there instead, as was proper? And third, why should the background noise of combat simulation even bother him? There was no way he was working on something delicate enough that it required absolute silence. He knew why, of course. Because Jacob was a spoiled ass. Holding back another sigh, he obliged the man. He had been planning to do some practice against the dolls, but he was alright with tempering a bit until Jacob was done with whatever crap he was doing. He sat down on the ground and focused. His essence flowed into his bones. With his metal affinity, he focused on the metallic properties of calcium as¡ª A sudden pain burst through his head and neck as a metallic clang echoed through his skull. Opening his eyes, he spotted another 10kg dumbbell clink to the ground nearby as a small stream of blood flowed down his head. ¡°What the fuck, Jacob!?¡± he screamed, his patience finally running out. ¡°What the hell are you doing!?¡± the man yelled as if Phillip was the one who had done something wrong. ¡°What does it look like I¡¯m doing!?¡± he asked, plugging his bleeding head with a hand. ¡°I¡¯m trying to temper!¡± ¡°You can¡¯t do that in the combat simulation chamber!¡± the man said. He dared¡­ He dared say that!? A fury bubbled in his chest, but before he could say anything else, the man retrieved another dumbbell from his storage ring, flung it at him, and yelled, ¡°It¡¯s my gym!¡± Phillip barely dodged as the man continued screaming, ¡°My rules! You can do whatever you want at home, but here, you listen to me!¡± he demanded. The two men stared each other down. Eventually, Phillip looked away with an angry grunt as he got up and walked out of the room. Just six months, he told himself. Just six months, and you never have to see him again. He was raised to always be the bigger man. Rather than throw a tantrum that would result in a conflict between their families, he swallowed his pride and walked away. Phillip unlocked the exit while keeping an eye on the snickering man-child. Just as the door opened, a short-haired brunette woman wearing a skimpy outfit entered. ¡°Hey, guys¡ªwhoa, what happened to you?¡± she remarked as she eyed the blood flowing down the side of his face. This was Rachel Black, the second of the three other people in their party. So far, his impression of her was that of an easy-going¡­ Hmm¡­ Was there a more respectful synonym for ¡°hoe¡±? He more snarled than smiled at her as he cocked his head in man-child¡¯s direction. ¡°We were sparring, and he fumbled a bit,¡± Jacob said in a jovial tone. ¡°No big deal, right, Phillip?¡± His strained smile vanished. Just this once, he decided to not be the bigger man. ¡°Your boyfriend over here threw a dumbbell at my head,¡± he informed her. To his lack of surprise, the woman merely laughed and said, ¡°Why didn¡¯t you dodge?¡± What a lovely girl. Nodding, he smiled a bit, ¡°Maybe if the inside of my head was as lightweight as yours, I would have been a bit faster,¡± he spat as he looked away and turned to the exit. She gaped at him, muttering, ¡°What a prick,¡± under her breath while he could feel Jacob¡¯s searing gaze burning a hole into his back. He was interrupted as yet another person walked in. It was a brunet man this time, his moderately aged face showing numerous scars all over it. Theodore Osborne. Out of the three teammates he had, he hated this man the least. He was a bit of a suckup, but at least he was an equal-opportunity asslicker. ¡°Hehehey there, kiddo, things got a bit rough during practice?¡± the older man asked as he playfully slapped his shoulder. ¡°Here you go; I¡¯ve been working on it a bit; maybe it¡¯ll help,¡± he said, raising his arm and channeling his holy affinity. A basic healing ability flowed through the man¡¯s fingers and drastically eased the pain Phillip felt. It was at supernatural quality, as all holy-affinity spells were, but it was weak, just strong enough to stop the bleeding for the time being until he applied a more permanent solution. Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. ¡°Thank you,¡± he said as he walked past the man and strode off into one of the gathering chambers. ¡°Hey, Theo!¡± Jacob greeted the newcomer, ¡°Did you hear from that guy yet?¡± he asked just in time for the doors to slam shut and for Phillip to be left in silence. What an exhausting bunch. He desperately hoped that whoever passed that damn interview wouldn¡¯t be a total asswipe. *** Theodore walked into the room, walking past Phillip and Rachel. ¡°Hey, Theo!¡± Jacob greeted him. ¡°Did you hear from that guy yet?¡± the man asked just as Phillip walked out of the room, cradling his bleeding head. The doors closed. He paused for a moment, pursing his lips. He hadn¡¯t heard anything from Liam yet because¡­ well¡­ the two of them weren¡¯t really friends. But frankly, even with that¡­ ¡°I haven¡¯t heard anything from him,¡± he said, shrugging. But he knew what to expect from dealing with the man for a while. ¡°Don¡¯t get your hopes up, though¡­ ¡°That guy is probably too stubborn to show up.¡± *** Standing just a bit inside the realm, practically right in front of the large passage, Freddy tugged on the woman¡¯s arm, keeping her in place and waiting for her to answer his question. She looked back at him. ¡°What?¡± she asked, her voice shaking slightly. ¡°I said,¡± he repeated himself, ¡°what do you want?¡± he growled. To his absolute bewilderment, the woman suddenly teared up. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m sorry! Did I offend you somehow?¡± she asked meekly. ¡°You are the one who brought me inside yesterday, correct?¡± he asked. ¡°Sh¡ªShould¡­¡± she stuttered. ¡°Should I not have done that?¡± ¡°No, I mean¡ª¡± he suddenly found himself struggling to find the right words. ¡°I¡¯m sorry!¡± she apologized again. Then, she started sobbing. He abruptly let go of her arm and took a step back. The parties around them looked in their direction and stared daggers at him. Frankly, he wanted the earth to open up and swallow him whole. ¡°Please,¡± he started, placatingly raising his arms and softening his tone as he worked to salvage the situation. ¡°Stop crying. I just want to know why you approached me the other day.¡± Her breath caught in her throat as her eyes, shining with a bright spark of hope, lifted to meet the two holes in his helmet. ¡°Are you gonna give me¡ª!?¡± His finger instantly shot out and pressed to her bloated lips, stopping her before she could finish her question. ¡°Let¡¯s go somewhere private, okay?¡± The woman, now silent as could be, swiftly nodded. The two of them made their way down one of the safer paths, then climbed over the rocky terrain until they found a small, hidden hole, perhaps five meters in diameter, located between several bigger boulders. They made their way down, where he sat on the nearest stone, placed his elbows on his knees and crossed his fingers. The woman looked uncomfortable under his stare. He hadn¡¯t asked to talk to her simply out of the goodness of his heart. The primary reason he was there was because of the woman''s conversation with that man. He said something about her making gorel corpses rot and wither away. Normally, most people would presume that meant she was a death-affinity archhuman. But that didn¡¯t make sense. Death-affinity casters could do that, sure, but definitely not at her level of power. His guess was that she was a life-affinity archhuman. And if his hunch was correct, he had a rough idea of what her talent did. ¡°You¡­¡± he started, squinting his eyes beneath the helmet. ¡°Your talent has something to do with life sparks, doesn¡¯t it?¡± The woman¡¯s eyes briefly widened, but she wasn¡¯t too surprised. She nodded. To anyone who knew what life sparks were, it was pretty obvious. That thing Madame had given him after killing the doctor was, in essence, a captured life spark. All the vitality, or rather, the ¡°life force¡± a living being held in its body, was part of its life spark. Things didn¡¯t truly die until all the cells in their body were dead, so if someone forcefully removed a life spark from a recently deceased corpse, it would immediately start rotting as all the cells ceased functioning at once. The only reason he had this knowledge was because he was researching ways to get his hands on something like that doctor¡¯s heart. That had been one of the best tools he had ever had in his life, and this woman might just be the key to getting his hands on it again. Because there was no hope of getting it otherwise. It wasn¡¯t like he could buy it at a store. Only four-star archhumans had the power to capture life sparks without a designated talent, and stepping into contact with a Lord, let alone getting one to do what he wanted, just wasn¡¯t possible for him. He took a deep breath as he pondered his next words. First, he had to know what exactly she wanted from him and why. ¡°I¡¯m going to ask you again¡ªwhat do you want?¡± But before the woman could answer, he added. ¡°First, tell me why you approached me.¡± The woman swallowed. ¡°Because you have a supreme¡ª¡± ¡°You¡¯re wrong,¡± he denied instantly. ¡°I don¡¯t have a supreme-quality healing talent.¡± Frankly, he knew that he couldn¡¯t truly hide it anymore, but if he kept denying it, the woman could possibly reveal how she found out. ¡°You do!¡± she yelled. ¡°Sorry, I didn¡¯t mean to yell¡­ uhm¡­¡± ¡°Why do you want a part of my body?¡± he probed but immediately spotted hesitation on her face. ¡°I know for a fact that it has something to do with whatever illness you have. I don¡¯t know if you¡¯ve seen a mirror, but you look way worse today than you did two days ago.¡± She winced at that. ¡°You can choose to hide whatever you want,¡± he said. ¡°But don¡¯t expect me to cooperate with anything if you aren¡¯t going to be honest with me.¡± That much was only fair. Unless she proved that her talent wouldn¡¯t hurt him, he did not intend to deal with her. Taking a deep breath, she sat on the ground and crossed her legs. The action appeared painful, given her wincing and hissing. Then, she raised her palm before her body, and a moment later, a small, pink light shone above it. His eyes widened when he saw that. ¡°My talent,¡± she started her explanation, ¡°is Life Spark Manipulation.¡± He swallowed. That was something, alright. A life spark existing detached from a living creature was absurd enough and already something only a talent could achieve. Now, depending on what she could do with it, it could either be a godlike power or, judging by her current condition, a mostly useless one. ¡°I can manipulate life sparks in certain ways,¡± she continued. ¡°But there are conditions, and it''s far from as straightforward as I hoped it would be when I got my talent. First, I can ¡®steal¡¯ the spark of any living organism without a soul. This includes plants, small bugs, recently killed creatures, or fresh body parts. Then,¡± she said as she lifted her second arm and manifested another, slightly brighter spark, ¡°I can merge them,¡± she declared, and then demonstrated. But the caveat was instantly apparent. Once the two sparks fused, the resulting one wasn¡¯t as bright as both of them combined, but somewhere in the middle. ¡°As you can see,¡± she sighed, ¡°this is relatively useless. But there is another function.¡± There was a small plant growing to her side. It was a leafy, dull green bush. She reached for it and tore off a handful of leaves. Then, she extracted its spark. While slightly weaker than the others she had shown, the biggest difference was that this spark was flickering. ¡°When a living being is injured or sick, their life spark grows unstable. Once the affliction heals, the spark will stabilize again. But while it¡¯s still unstable¡±¡ªshe brought the other spark closer to the unstable one and fused them, but this time, the result was different: the spark didn¡¯t grow at all, but it did stop flickering¡ª¡°I can ¡®feed it¡¯ another spark to stabilize it.¡± She turned around again and tore off another handful of leaves, this time from an entirely different plant. ¡°I can also do that while the spark is still part of a living organism.¡± She proceeded to insert the newly combined spark into the damaged plant. The missing leaves grew back instantly, springing into being with such speed that it left him shocked for a moment. But again, the downside was readily apparent. While the plant was whole again, it was now sagging slightly, with signs of discoloration appearing along the leaves¡¯ surface. His eyes went from the sagging plant and flicked over to the woman, who he found sighing sadly. So that was what happened to her. She must have healed an injury through such a fusion and was now suffering the consequences. But something else was on his mind. ¡°Is your talent illegal?¡± he asked bluntly. If the reason she had approached him was what he thought it was¡­ ¡°What?¡± she asked, clearly bewildered. ¡°No! Why would you think that!?¡± ¡°That side-effect,¡± he pointed out, ¡°is it because the spark is from two different species?¡± If that was the case, then she could only heal herself with the sparks of other humans. ¡°No!¡± she denied, but then frowned and thought of it, ¡°Well, no, not really. There would be a problem if I tried using a plant life spark to heal an animal, but as long as it''s two animals, two bugs, or two plants, there shouldn¡¯t be any problem with that¡­ specifically¡­¡± ¡°So what¡¯s the catch?¡± he asked. ¡°Well¡­ an unstable spark digests the stable one. It uses the digested life force to fill its cracks, but that isn¡¯t a perfect solution. A life spark is everything an organism is. All of the imperfections and flaws are built directly into the life force. And if imperfect life force is used to heal an injury¡ª¡± ¡°The healing will also be imperfect,¡± he finished the sentence for her, finally catching on to what she was looking for. She nodded. ¡°When living things get injured, the spark loses life force. I can sense this, and back when I met you, I thought that the gorel you were fighting was the thing I was looking for, but it¡­ It wasn¡¯t; it was you,¡± she said, eyes burning intensely as she stared at him. ¡°If what I sensed was the life force lost during a minor injury, I can¡¯t even imagine what your life spark looks like. If I took it out of your body, it would probably blind me!¡± He didn¡¯t appreciate that phrasing, but he let it slide in favor of continuing to deny it, ¡°But that doesn¡¯t mean that I have a healing talent.¡± ¡°Well,¡± she started. ¡°It is either that or you¡¯re the richest person on the entire planet,¡± she said, laughing a bit with an awkward smile on her face. He nodded. He knew about her talent to confidently say that she wasn¡¯t a real threat. Thankfully, she still didn¡¯t know how his talent worked¡ª ¡°Also, I saw you step on a plant on our way here. From the life force that was released, a very small part of it was filtered and absorbed into your body. Is that how your talent works!?¡± He grabbed his helmet and sighed deeply. ¡°Fuck my life¡­¡± he whispered. Now then. How should he shut this woman up? Chapter 67 - New Ally? Freddy sat on the boulder, holding his helmet with both hands. The woman he was talking to rambled on and on about the possible ways his talent worked, all far too close to the truth for comfort. There was no evidence that ¡°luck¡± or ¡°fate¡± existed. But if they did, his were trash. He had long stopped betting on things simply working out for him. The thing about talents was that most, around 60-70 percent, were just straightforward boosts to some form of physical or mental characteristic. They differed in the finer details, but there were many cases of countless people possessing pretty much identical talents. His talent technically fell into the second most common category: straightforward boosts¡ªin this case, regeneration, but with a condition for activation¡ªin this case, doing damage. There were many talents like this. A boost to strength that only activated against several opponents or a regeneration boost that got stronger the more damage one suffered or a speed boost that activated after parrying a blow¡ªbut that single additional variable made a tremendous impact. A far greater number of such talents was unique. Sure, many people had a regeneration talent with a condition related to killing or fighting, but it was likely that nobody else had 1% Lifesteal with supreme-quality healing attached to it. This woman knew more or less exactly what his talent was. If she spread the word, a piece of information that acted as a more or less unique identifier for him would get out into the world. Information was power. As such, it was no surprise that many people earned money by collecting it. What seemed like a mundane rumor of what his talent did could end up in an information package one of these dealers sold to large organizations. And basically every large organization purchased such packages by the thousands. Then, their employees sorted that information and reported anything of note to their superiors. The odds of this becoming a problem were tiny. Miniscule. But not nonexistent. There was a non-zero chance that such a rumor could reach either the Kraven clan or Madame. Madame was more likely. Not only did she know precisely what his talent did, but she was also more adept at collecting such information. Tiny as it was, the possibility was there. And if possible, he didn¡¯t want anyone to ever discover that he was still alive. ¡°Hey, are you okay?¡± the woman asked as she probably finally caught on that he wasn¡¯t paying attention to a single word of what she was saying. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m just¡­ I¡¯m just getting some ideas,¡± he vaguely stated. ¡°Oh¡­ Alright¡­ So are you¡ª?¡± He got up, rushing to his feet. The woman was caught off guard and stepped back as he straightened his bulky body and looked down at her. ¡°I think our talents might synergize really well,¡± he said. She nodded slowly. ¡°Does that mean that¡ª¡± ¡°What do you say about forming a team with me?¡± he suggested. Her eyes widened, and she spluttered. ¡°I¡¯d¡­ I think that would be great. But shouldn¡¯t we first¡ª¡± ¡°Great!¡± he cheered as he reached for her hand and pulled it into an enthusiastic handshake. He didn¡¯t really have a way to keep her quiet. But keeping their synergy a secret would be in her best interest if they became party members. This was a temporary solution at best, but it would work until he thought of something else. Worst case scenario, he¡¯d have to change his identity again and¡ª His thoughts were interrupted as the woman suddenly puked all over his jacket. She released a nasty, wet burp and coughed. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry!¡± she apologized. ¡°Oh, that¡¯s so embarrassing. I just felt a sudden burst of sickness, and I¡­¡± He used Create Water and washed most of the puke off. Right. She was dying, wasn¡¯t she? For the briefest of moments, the thought that he could just leave her alone and let her die, taking the truth of his talent to her grave, crossed his mind. He instantly crushed that thought. That willingness to do anything still lingered in the back of his mind. That wasn¡¯t who he was¡ªnot who he wanted to be, danger to his life be damned. There were enough unintentional bodies left in his wake already. He had to stop adding more before it turned into a habit. There was just one more thing to ask. ¡°Are you a member of any formal organizations?¡± The woman looked at him and shook her head. ¡°No,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯m independent.¡± ¡°What about family?¡± he asked. ¡°Friends? How established are you in this area?¡± That question seemed to upset the woman a bit, but she answered, ¡°I have a few friends, but I haven¡¯t really been in contact with them¡­ and probably won¡¯t be any time soon.¡± ¡°Good,¡± he said. That was all he wanted to know. Once the woman got a hold of herself, he took the glove off his right hand, the one without any rings on it, and asked, ¡°Do you have a knife?¡± She nodded enthusiastically as she pulled one out of thin air, recklessly revealing that she had a storage item. Well, not that she was working particularly hard to hide the suspicious ring on her finger. He sighed again. Yup¡­ this was a woman who should never be trusted with keeping a secret. The knife she handed him was super sharp, so cutting a finger off would be easy enough. Just as he was mentally choosing which one to sacrifice, she said, ¡°Wait! I¡¯ll need two fingers, actually.¡± He raised an eyebrow beneath his helmet but obeyed anyway, cutting off his pinky and ring fingers with a single, smooth swing. He also unintentionally nicked his middle finger a bit, unskilled with weapons as he was. He made the blood coagulate with a small burst of blood essence, and his wounds were closed shut. A small benefit of having the blood affinity. The woman caught the flying fingers out of the air and then proceeded to¡­ put them together? The two bloody holes were connected, and before he could ask what the hell she was doing, they lit up with a small burst of pink light and fused. Her half-pained expression slowly morphed into one of genuine mirth as she lit up like a candle. ¡°Hahaha¡­¡± she chuckled. ¡°It worked,¡± she said as she started crying. ¡°It worked!¡± she screamed in joy. He wasn¡¯t feeling quite as enthusiastic as he observed the crooked double-ended finger-fusion in her hands. He watched it twitch and felt his lunch churn in his stomach. She breathed out. ¡°Okay, now to see if this will work.¡± Again, before he could ask what, she poured life essence into the finger. He knew what she was doing, well, tentatively at least. Overloading living tissue with life essence mutated every cell into a less specialized one. This would make the fingers less fingers and more just a large mass of strongly interconnected but independent single-cellular organisms. This was how that heart Madame had given him could feed on meat. He knew what she was doing and why she was trying it, but¡­ he wasn¡¯t sure that it would work. Both of them watched in trepidation as the fingers appeared to melt, fusing into a ball of nondescript pink tissue. Once the fusion was finished, the woman looked up at him. ¡°Can you please bring back a gorel corpse?¡± she requested. He had been expecting her to ask him to do that. Without hesitation, he jumped up the nearest boulder and shot out. Not long after, he found a small group of workers. With a Hydraulic Flex, he dashed in, smashed the nearest gorel¡¯s skull in, and dragged it back to where the woman was waiting. With the corpse in hand, the woman used the knife to chop large pieces of meat off and feed them to the small ball of pink tissue, one piece at a time. The little ball greedily devoured them, slowly growing in size until it doubled in volume. Gulping, the woman nervously pressed a finger to it. Moments later, her grin returned. ¡°It didn¡¯t lose any quality!¡± That was huge. That pile of tissue couldn¡¯t live longer than maybe six months, but during that period¡­ Numerous chunks of meat made their way into the ball of tissue until the entire gorel corpse was gone. Then, the woman used her essence manipulation to delicately separate a small chunk of the tissue that she put aside. Pressing her fingers to the bigger chunk, she made the large mass of meat shrivel and stop squirming in a single instant. Then, her body started to change. Her flaking skin shed its excess, dangling bits, and the discoloration rapidly vanished. Her bloated face started oozing liquid as it shrank, and the near-constant frown of pain vanished from her brow as she slowly breathed out. They both stared at the display, mouths hanging open in disbelief. Her vibrant, purple eyes looked up at the two holes in his mask. She was quite the beauty now that her face didn¡¯t look like it had lost a fight against a wall. For a long moment, a creepy expression played on her face. She almost had the look of an addict who had just taken an extra large dose of their drug of choice. It was a look that sparked nasty memories for Freddy. A melodic chuckle escaped her lips as she pressed her mouth to her face. ¡°Bring me another gorel,¡± she said. He didn¡¯t move. ¡°Uh¡­¡± she hesitated. ¡°Please?¡± Freddy slowly lifted his hand and used Create Water. A flood of liquid washed over the woman, rinsing the expelled fluids, puss, and blood. ¡°You smell like shit,¡± he added helpfully. The woman blinked rapidly. ¡°Thank you¡­ I guess.¡± Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. He sighed and climbed the nearest boulder, looking for yet another gorel to bring back. *** Freddy stared at the two regrown fingers on his hand. If the target had a soul and agreed to it, the woman could use these sparks to heal them. She had just done so to him, and he stared in wonder. They weren¡¯t quite as perfect as they would be if his talent had grown them back; he could feel that, but it was good enough to make one thing evident. He watched the woman produce her seventh blob of flesh and drain its life spark. ¡°That¡¯s it,¡± she said. ¡°I can only store five at a time in my body.¡± ¡°Only?¡± he asked, snickering snarkily. ¡°Do you have any idea how powerful that is?¡± She nodded. ¡°Hell yeah! I probably just became the best healer, like, ever!¡± ¡°Best healer, huh,¡± he repeated with an edge to his voice. ¡°What?¡± she asked. ¡°Is there a problem?¡± ¡°No¡­ no, I¡¯m just wondering,¡± he said. ¡° You know, it¡¯s just that we have officially become a team, and I think it would be best if you kept me informed about what you want to use this power for.¡± She stiffened at that, frowning. ¡°What do you mean by that?¡± ¡°Correct me if I¡¯m wrong, but I¡¯ve just saved your life, no?¡± he asked. Her expression darkened. ¡°Yes¡­ And?¡± ¡°Relax,¡± he urged. ¡°I¡¯m not gonna be creepy about it or anything. I just have one request,¡± he said, leaning in threateningly. ¡°Don¡¯t let anyone know about this,¡± he intoned slowly, making his point as clear as possible. ¡°Nobody. Not a single person should know how the synergy between our talents works.¡± That didn¡¯t seem to be the thing she was expecting to hear. ¡°You want me to keep this a secret?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± he said. ¡°We¡¯d be in some deep trouble if people knew about what we can do.¡± ¡°Of course,¡± she confirmed, relaxing a bit. ¡°That goes without saying. We¡¯d probably be locked up like animals and drained of everything we had.¡± He raised an eyebrow under his helmet. Well then. She wasn¡¯t a total lost cause, it seemed. ¡°I wasn¡¯t going to say anything about it, anyway,¡± she said. ¡°That being said, uh¡­¡± she trailed off. ¡°Hi?¡± She waved at him. ¡°If we¡¯re going to be working together, shouldn¡¯t we introduce ourselves?¡± He chuckled. ¡°My name is Liam Johnson,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m Sophia Summer,¡± she introduced herself in turn. ¡°Pleasure to meet you, Sophia.¡± ¡°Same, Liam,¡± she said. ¡°Do you mind taking your helmet off so I can see your face?¡± ¡°I¡¯d like to keep it on,¡± he refused. ¡°For personal reasons.¡± She nodded. ¡°If that¡¯s what you want.¡± He eyed her carefully as a small smile curled up on his face beneath the mask. ¡°How do you feel?¡± he asked her. ¡°Better than I¡¯ve ever felt in my life,¡± she said with a chuckle, stretching her arm over her head. ¡°Seriously, I feel great. Is breathing always this easy?¡± He chuckled. ¡°Alrighty, then.¡± He got up. ¡°How about we go and see what you can do?¡± *** A single worker sniffed its way through the leaves, looking for mushrooms and grubs in the dirt. After confirming that there were no other gorels in the surrounding area, he nodded at the woman, and she stepped forth. She insisted on fighting bare-handed. That caught him by surprise. Had she been going around fighting gorels unarmed as a one-star? Even with a weapon, that was an insane feat. And this woman, too, might be a bit off her rocker. The worker immediately noticed her and rushed at her, balling its spoony fingers into weighty fists. It swung an overhead strike, but she deftly dodged it, sneaking in a kick from its blind spot and hitting it right in the jaw. The creature screamed, pretty pissed at the sudden attack as it whirled on her. What followed was a display of martial arts prowess unlike anything he had ever seen in his life. The woman fought completely unarmed, displaying insane levels of competence as she landed one strike after another. Soon enough, she landed a solid kick on the creature¡¯s eye, turning it into a bloody mess, and before long, the other eye was blinded, too. This didn¡¯t stop it from rushing at her, as it didn¡¯t really need its eyes to orient itself, but it did make it impossible for the creature to predict her next move. One kick after another landed on the monster¡¯s head until it eventually finally ran out of energy. She landed an axe kick on the back of the creature¡¯s neck, and it stopped moving. By the end of the display, Freddy was left with a sour expression. First, this woman was good. Way better than he was. While she claimed to be entirely independent, one didn¡¯t get that good without training from early childhood. That meant she had a background. One that she was keeping hidden. He¡¯d be a hypocrite to criticize her for keeping her background a secret. But that didn¡¯t change the fact that an angry family might come to look for her and ¡°take care of him¡± in the process. ¡°How long have you been an arch?¡± he asked. ¡°For about three weeks,¡± the woman said. He blinked. ¡°Excuse me?¡± ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m pretty new to this,¡± she said, gulping for breath. ¡°But I¡¯ve been practicing martial arts for almost fifteen years.¡± ¡°Fifteen years, you say¡­¡± he commented. ¡°Seems like an awfully long time to spend without a prime. You could have been at least a peak two-star by now,¡± he suggested. ¡°Any reason why you postponed it for that long?¡± She looked a bit stricken by the question for a moment, but she got herself under control rather quickly. ¡°Eh,¡± she said. ¡°Long story.¡± He stared at her. ¡°Uhm¡­¡± she started. ¡°Is everything all right?¡± ¡°Yeah, yeah¡­ I¡¯m just wondering, you know,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m just assuming, but you probably waited that long by choice; well, someone¡¯s choice, at least, am I right?¡± She met his gaze. ¡°Is there a problem?¡± she asked. ¡°No, no¡­ No¡­ It¡¯s nothing really; just tell me one thing: what¡¯s the likelihood that an angry clansman might kill me when they come to pick you up?¡± She froze at the question, staring at him with wide eyes. ¡°You don¡¯t have to worry about that,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯m not from that kind of background.¡± The two of them stared at each other for a long moment. ¡°Don¡¯t take this the wrong way,¡± he placated her. ¡°I¡¯m not trying to accuse you of anything. I just want to make sure I don¡¯t get caught up in someone¡¯s family drama.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry about that,¡± she said. ¡°All right, all right,¡± he said. ¡°Well then, uh¡­ Let¡¯s go find some monsters to kill.¡± They couldn¡¯t find another lone gorel for him to fight, but it didn¡¯t take long for them to stumble upon a small group of three, with two workers sniffing through the leaves while a guard sat lazily to the side. He simply walked up to them, and when he was within twenty meters, they noticed him. The guard reached him first due to its superior speed. His ego was slightly bruised, and he felt an urge to show off a bit. Thus, when the monsters came, he made extra sure to make it seem like he was exerting as little effort as possible. Unceremoniously, he started a Flowing Strike and raised his leg. The dumb beast practically impaled itself on his foot, eating the kick with its chin and dying instantly. The other two weren¡¯t much better as they took a punch to the head and fell with a stream of blood rushing out of their cracked skulls. ¡°W¡­ Wow¡­¡± Sohpia said. ¡°That¡¯s uh¡­ That¡¯s some power. Isn¡¯t there a lot of backlash?¡± He raised an eyebrow at that. She could tell that much just from watching him use Flowing Strike once? ¡°I have a talent for healing, remember?¡± he reminded her. ¡°I can take the burden without much trouble.¡± She scowled briefly, then bobbed her head side to side as she pondered the logic behind it. ¡°A bit extreme if you ask me, but hey¡±¡ªshe glanced at the gorel corpse that took the brunt of Freddy¡¯s attack¡ª ¡°it definitely works.¡± He smiled under the helmet. Plus one point for team Freddy. On that note, they started their first hunt together, seeing no reason to stop there. However, it seemed that she had an ego on her, too. ¡°Whoa, what are you doing!?¡± he asked as he spotted her rushing at a group of five. ¡°Don¡¯t worry!¡± she said. ¡°I just want to see how I do against them.¡± ¡°This crazy¡­¡± he whispered. She did not do well against them. At all. There were two guards and three workers. Within the first two minutes, the woman received two lethal injuries¡ªthe first was a nasty cut across her neck that nearly decapitated her, and the second was a long gash along the length of her arm that would have bled her out. She healed both wounds instantly and merely continued the fight. Seeing that she had no chance of coming out on top, he stepped in and killed the gorels before they ended her. ¡°What the hell!?¡± she yelled. ¡°Why did you interrupt me?¡± ¡°Why did I¡ª¡± he stuttered. ¡°Do you have any idea how close you were to dying like five times just now?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± she said, blinking innocently at him. ¡°I¡¯m pretty weak at unarmed fighting, so I¡¯m trying to improve.¡± He blinked at her. ¡°You¡¯re what?¡± He scoffed. ¡°Okay, sure.¡± ¡°Yeah, I have a few of these bad habits I¡¯m trying to knock,¡± she declared ¡°And this is how you choose to do it?¡± She raised an eyebrow at that. ¡°What¡¯s wrong with that?¡± she asked. ¡°My talent can heal up to five massive injuries; why wouldn¡¯t I use that to my advantage to train in high risk?¡± ¡°Yeees,¡± he agreed, somewhat condescendingly, ¡°but it can¡¯t grow your head back if a gorel claw takes it off. Get it? So maybe cool the ¡®high risk¡¯ down a bit, okay?¡± Something about how she looked at him at that moment didn¡¯t sit right with him. ¡°Okay,¡± she said as she sat on the ground. She pulled the little blob of flesh out of her dimension ring and started feeding it chunks of gorel flesh as she worked to restore the two sparks she lost in the fight. Freddy shook his head as he bent over to bag and rack the corpses they had just downed. ¡°What are you doing?¡± she asked him. ¡°I¡¯m packing the bodies¡­?¡± he answered with some confusion. ¡°Why?¡± she asked. He blinked at her. ¡°To sell them? To earn money?¡± ¡°Oh! Yeah, I forgot.¡± His jaw clenched. Yup. That, right there, was someone who had never worked a day of their life. Shaking his head, he finished gathering the corpses. The two of them returned to the lobby in silence and left the bodies. As they stepped back into the realm, the woman pointed in a direction, ¡°Hey, we should go over there this time.¡± His legs froze. ¡°That path leads to a few major hives,¡± he said. ¡°I think it would be best to avoid those.¡± ¡°Nah, don¡¯t worry,¡± she said. ¡°I was hunting in that area, and it¡¯s not too bad. Most of the more powerful parties hunt there, so, if anything, there is less of a risk since most of the deviants get culled.¡± He squinted at that. Frankly, the same idea had crossed his mind. It was true that that area had a lower risk of encountering deviants, but there were too many gorels there. Entrances to the bigger hives were scattered all over the place, and those were like a never ending fountain of prey. He wasn¡¯t particularly afraid of big groups of gorels; in fact, the lower risk of deviants was probably a fair trade-off in his case. But for her¡­ He glanced at the woman at his side and raised an eyebrow. ¡°Are you sure you¡¯re going to be fine?¡± She rolled her eyes at him. ¡°I told you, I¡¯ve already been hunting there for a while. Besides, are you forgetting about the¡­ you know?¡± Well, she did have a point. It wasn¡¯t like injuries were a big risk to either of them and with him at her side, it was unlikely that anything would get the chance to take her out before he could step in to prevent that. They made their way down the path and steered into the woods. He carefully tracked where they were going, constantly mentally referring to where they were on the map. They were near one of the bigger entrances to a large hive, but that entrance was located within a depression. If they wanted to reach it from where they were, they¡¯d have to jump off a small cliff, and the gorels didn¡¯t have a habit of climbing like that, so the place they were at was relatively safe. ¡°Hey, come over here!¡± the woman called as she rushed over a large boulder. Where the hell is this woman going? he asked himself, feeling drained by Sophia¡¯s energetic, carefree attitude. He made his way across the boulder and glided down. His eyes widened as he realized where they were and ducked. ¡°Shit!¡± he swore. They were right at the edge of the cliff, hidden behind a few flimsy bushes. ¡°Come!¡± she called. ¡°Come see!¡± ¡°Come see what, you crazy¡­!?¡± he scream-whispered. He groaned as he crawled through the bush and made his way next to Sophia, who was looking down into the depression. ¡°Jesus Christ,¡± he called when he saw the sight for himself. Hundreds upon hundreds of workers made their way down a series of paths carved into the depression, heading into the woods like a stream of ants. They found themselves right on the edge of a red zone, peering down on an army of foes. ¡°Isn¡¯t it cool!?¡± she asked. ¡°Let¡¯s go down a bit. They¡¯re a lot less coordinated in large groups when on the surface. It¡¯ll be easy to run away,¡± she declared as she turned to face him, a bright light shining in her purple eyes. She had to be messing with him¡­ right? ¡°Come on,¡± he spat. ¡°We don¡¯t have time for this.¡± ¡°You¡¯re right!¡± she yelled as she got up to her feet. ¡°The day could turn to night at any moment; we should hurry.¡± ¡°Keep it quiet!¡± he requested. ¡°What if the¡ª¡± His words were interrupted as she pulled him by the arm¡­ And threw him right off the cliff. Chapter 68 - Bloodshed is Always By Your Side After slamming into the incline, Freddy landed on his rucksack and spun, sliding down the rest of the short hill as the baggage on his back prevented him from rolling, eventually grinding to a halt behind a large boulder obscuring him from the gorels just ahead. Thanks to his durability and thick armor, he didn¡¯t suffer any significant injuries, but his jacket was slightly damaged by the scraping, and it had heated up considerably from the friction. Sophia followed soon after, sliding down elegantly as she landed right beside him in a crouch. ¡°What the fuck are you¡ª¡± he scream-whispered at her but¡ª ¡°Shhhh!¡± she silenced him. ¡°They¡¯re going to hear us!¡± ¡°No shit!¡± He gesticulated at her, choking an imaginary neck as the visor on his helmet hinted at the furious expression beneath. She ignored his open threat and peeked over the boulder, taking a sneaky look at the mass of monsters ahead. He, on the other hand, was staring at the cliff, looking for any place he could go back up. But it was hopeless. It was too steep, and the rock was too smooth. Perhaps a professional climber could do it, but he didn¡¯t like his chances. The most likely outcome of trying to climb up would be tumbling into an angry mass of gorels that spotted his escape attempt. Taking a deep breath, he silently worked himself up into a crouch beside the unhinged woman. Her eyes scoured the gorel-dominated stone depression, God-knows-what going through her mind. Was she planning an escape route? The fact that she was the one who got them into this situation hinted at something far less reasonable. Still, they had gone unnoticed. The hordes of gorels actually worked in their favor, masking the noises they made in the terrifying sounds of hundreds of angry sloth-monkeys dragging their spoon-nails and claws across the dusty soil. It was exactly as she¡¯d said. The monsters were adept at maneuvering the tunnels, as their senses were almost entirely designed to handle just that. Out in the open, with the vast number of the things marching in massive lanes, they couldn¡¯t immediately recognize intruders, even if those intruders walked right up to them. That didn¡¯t mean that things wouldn¡¯t get nasty if the creatures did spot them. But it did mean that their chances of walking away without triggering a stampede were higher than might be readily apparent. As he was trying to puzzle out a way out of the situation, the woman¡¯s body shifted as she started getting up. The single fastest reflex reaction he had ever experienced made his arm lunge at her like an angry snake, grasping her forearm in a vice grip and pulling her down. ¡°Don¡¯t you fucking dare!¡± he barked the warning, making extra sure she could tell that he wasn¡¯t making an empty threat. ¡°Don¡¯t worry!¡± she placated with a grin. She raised her untrapped arm, and with a puffing sound, a fancy shortsword appeared in her grip. ¡°I believe in you!¡± Then, she slammed the flat end of the metallic sword into the boulder, producing a shrill ding. Instantly, the sounds of gorel movement quieted. The army of monsters near them crawled to a stop, all of them aggressively sniffing the air and keeping their ears peeled for whatever had produced the sound. Unspeakable terror crawled up his spine as he watched the woman raise the sword again, bringing it down before he could do anything to stop her from doing so. Ding¡­ the sword rang. A moment later, a deafening cacophony of hissing, growling, and screeching thundered around them. ¡°Why!? Why!?¡± he begged as he released the madwoman and got up, looking around for any escape. What he saw stunned him. ¡°Oh¡­ shit!¡± he yelled as he swung his fist to knock away one of the many gorels in the middle of jumping at him with their claws out, ready to tear him to pieces. The woman laughed joyously, leaping into the crowd of monsters as she swung her sword, sneaking it through tiny openings with impeccable technique as she swam through the mass of bodies, somehow avoiding the numerous attacks flying her way. He barely blocked an aggressive swing by a guard, which left deep rends along his bracers, and leaped back, trying to make space between him and the thickening crowd of creatures aiming for his life. His Hydraulic Flex activated with a warm flow coursing through his legs as he kept jumping back, but there was nowhere to run¡ªwith a sheer wall of stone behind him and a tsunami of monsters ahead of him, all he could do was stand his ground and fight. Without the time to remove his gloves, he cast Gore Knuckles through them, tearing them apart. The jagged dagger appeared in his left hand, held in a reverse grip. A Flowing Strike kick flew forward, crushing a gorel¡¯s skull as his dagger hand punched another, the Gore Knuckles cracking and splintering, fragile as they still were; then he slit a clumsy slash across yet another one¡¯s face. The weapon drew blood, so much of it, in fact, that the gorel backed away and collapsed, likely falling unconscious due to the sudden drop in blood pressure. Within moments, the mass of monsters grew far too thick to manage; the only thing providing any defense was the quickly accumulating wall of gorel corpses, but that wouldn¡¯t keep him safe forever. In less than twenty seconds of fighting at full power, liberally using Flowing Strike and Hydraulic Flex whenever necessary, he was at a mere 34% essence, and with just another four Flowing Strikes, he would be out. He groaned, ¡°Blood Sacrifice!¡± he yelled as he resorted to his last-ditch effort. But Bloodshed didn¡¯t respond. ¡°Why!?¡± was all he could muster as a pile of gorels swarmed him. Their claws and teeth tore his armor to shreds, but his body didn¡¯t take much damage past the surface layer of skin; even that was quickly sealed by the rush of lifesteal as he retaliated. His dagger barely stayed in his grip as he tore one gorel apart after another, and relatively quickly, he found himself buried beneath a literal pile of corpses, ironically safe as the dumb beasts kept piling on him. But this sanctuary was temporary at best. The mass of monsters above kept piling on until there were so many of them that he was suffocating. Their attempts to claw past the dead only hastened this, as he was literally bathed in blood that flowed past the pile of bodies. ¡°Blood Sacrifice!¡± he tried again. ¡°Blood Sacrifice!¡± and again. ¡°Why doesn¡¯t it work!?¡± Master¡­ Bloodshed¡¯s voice suddenly echoed in his voice. ¡°Bloodshed!¡± he called. ¡°Where are you!?¡± Calm yourself, Master¡­ it said. ¡°Not the time for¡ªaaargh!¡± he screamed as his legs were finally reached and several gorels scraped at them, leaving deep gashes and nearly shearing his feet off. ¡® never come first, it continued. I am a consequence of your existence; I am the terror of spilled blood. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. ¡°Gaargh!¡± he kept screaming, trying to pull his legs back. Don¡¯t worry, Master¡­ Bloodshed is always by your side¡ª its voice suddenly cut out, its presence seemingly vanishing. He had no time to think about the cryptic words. After much struggle, he finally mustered the power to tuck his legs back into the mass of corpses where they couldn¡¯t be reached by the other monsters. The stench was overwhelming. Everything around him stank like a wet dog dripping in blood. But in the moments of panic where he lay buried beneath a pile of bodies, barely able to move, he suddenly found himself calming down. This wasn¡¯t his first time in a situation like this, was it? Shedding the cautious delver, he allowed the instinct-driven animal who got him out alive last time to take over. His left hand gripped the dagger tightly as he started slashing. The jagged blade carved through the mass of gore as he slowly shifted forward. A small but continuous stream of lifeforce trickled into his body, patching his bleeding form almost instantly and sealing his flesh back up with a layer of temporary tissue created by first-aid-quality healing. It didn¡¯t take much for him to dig himself back out, where a gorel slammed bloody claws right into his helmet, nearly piercing through it, but a swing of the dagger left its arm bleeding profusely as it barked, squealing and backing away. Several others rushed to fill the gap, crowding like bees before his vision, making it difficult to tell them apart. Merely ensuring that his grip on the dagger didn¡¯t slip, he carved away. Eventually, he created enough space. With a burst of as much essence as he could muster, he pushed himself out, just barely breaking past the vast mass of monsters gathering around the pile of corpses. The chaos played in his favor as many of the creatures failed to keep up with his location, continuing to search for him in the pile of gore. Among the cacophony of screeching, finding a lone man who smelled of little other than gorel blood was almost impossible for the dumb beasts. This would be his way out. The spikes on his fists had been ground down to nothing more than a cracked, thin coat of blood, so he used a bit of his essence to reconstruct them. It was incredibly essence-efficient, costing him a minuscule sum to build them back up, even if he wasn¡¯t fond of losing more blood. They wouldn¡¯t last long, but the added roughness to his punches made them effective enough that he didn¡¯t need to repeatedly use Flowing Strikes to do damage. Every gorel he killed replenished a tiny portion of his essence. Killing monsters resulted in a rush of ether that pushed his star further, and just like with any other form of gathering, a small portion of that ether was converted into essence¡ªvery little, however. Every kill resulted in only around 1% essence return, making it nearly impossible to do anything other than slow down his dwindling reserves¡ªor so he thought. There was a massive crowd of gorels running after him, but in front of him, they were relatively scattered. If one jumped him, he did his best to dodge and kick them aside, leaving most with at least a slight bleeding injury. It was enough to slow him down, and several times, that cost him a nasty slash on his legs or back. Even though minimal-quality healing swiftly stopped the bleeding and first-aid-quality healing patched him up, at that level, the recovery couldn¡¯t preserve the function of his body. He felt his legs growing weaker; his balance was wobbly, and his steps were uneven. Although his gore knuckles cracked apart with every punch he landed, they still transferred the dagger¡¯s effect, making his attacks result in excessive bleeding. At a certain point, he started feeling seemingly random rushes of ether flowing from somewhere back in the crowd behind him. Are the ones I hit bleeding out!? he wondered. The state of his body was worsening, and with the saving grace of recovering some essence, he allowed himself to swing a Flowing Strike at the head of one of the creatures. The blood knuckles shattered with the impact, together with the gorel¡¯s skull, and the influx of lifesteal finally brought the healing quality up to natural, where it could at least somewhat recover his function. His legs felt less numb, and his back stiffened. Another Flowing Strike crushed the knuckles on the other hand and a guard¡¯s chest, pushing the healing quality even further. The thrill kept him pushing forward and attacking anything he came across. His moves were clumsy, and he often failed to do much, but he kept pushing, emboldened by the seemingly unceasing flood of essence flowing into his soul. Just as he regained his confidence, he spotted that lunatic fighting a different crowd, and seeing her in action made his breath catch in his throat. She made it seem so easy. Weaving in and out of action, using their limited senses to herd them like a shepherd herded sheep, whenever they gathered, she pulled back into a nearby clearing, always ensuring she was somewhere where a wall wouldn¡¯t cut off her path of escape. Although she was impressive enough without a weapon, her swordsmanship was something to behold. She performed fancy jumps and flips with minimal effort, slipping her sword through the smallest of openings to cut into her opponents¡¯ bodies. He watched her take a nasty slash across the back and heard her screaming, but a mere second later, she used her talent to heal the injury and kept fighting, remaining unshaken. What a monster, he couldn¡¯t stop himself from thinking. As an archhuman, she was incredibly weak¡ªyet her talent, skill, and physical capabilities allowed her to close the gap enough to stay alive even against overwhelming odds. His distraction cost him as he tripped over a small worker and tumbled across the ground. ¡°Shit!¡± he screamed as he watched the horde descend upon him. Out of desperation, he used Create Water at maximum output, activating both stars and turning it into Perished Water. His soul screamed in agony at the immense output of essence as he felt every last drop drain out of his star like juice from an orange crushed by a hydraulic press, causing nearly 53% to vanish instantly. But the results were spectacular. Several barrels worth of water manifested above him just as the crowd of gorels descended. Not even he was spared by the attack as numerous stingers, bites, and scratches assaulted his skin, some leaving deep lacerations, but the rush of lifesteal was more than enough of a sign that his attack was doing more to his enemies than to himself. The water washed over him and the surrounding monsters, flooding the area and pushing him away. Once he finally left the hellish substance, feeling every inch of his skin dripping in blood, he heard it¡ªevery gorel in the surrounding area was screaming so loudly that it nearly deafened him. Throughout the next few moments, he felt his essence gradually trickle back up to 20%, marking around twenty kills. ¡°Holy shit¡­¡± he breathed out. As the water disappeared, all that was left was the accumulating river of blood as he watched dozens of gorels bleeding from their legs and cut feet. At that very moment, the sun blinked out as the day suddenly turned to night. Rather than curse or yell, he remained quiet. His sight was severely compromised, and he didn¡¯t even see the gorel that bumped into him, but as it kept screaming and running, it was likely that it hadn¡¯t noticed him either. The chaos his stunt had created manifested a cascading effect of screeching and panic, causing the monsters to scatter in every direction. The vibration beneath his feet and distant thundering hinted at a veritable horde of them returning to their nest to either see what was happening or to rush into their comrades¡¯ defense. He didn¡¯t see anything. The darkness of the night in this realm was near-absolute, and without a light source, his eyes had zero feedback. He couldn¡¯t move. For the time being, the gorels were too disorganized to pinpoint his location, but it wouldn¡¯t take long for order to reestablish itself and for them to track him down. This was pretty close to the worst-case scenario. If it was still day, their sight would be worthless at tracking him down, but at night, he would have to use a flashlight, which would put a spotlight on him, resulting in most of the nest flooding him and tearing him to shreds. He breathed quietly as the seconds turned into minutes, and the wild screaming gradually quieted into scattered yelps. His careful breathing slowly turned into panicked gasping for air. Suddenly, he noticed something. It was the ether shell for Blood Sacrifice. He felt it quietly resonate, and he felt confident that if he used the ability at that moment, it wouldn¡¯t fail him like last time. Then, he heard the sounds of footsteps. They were quiet but undeniable. One of the gorels was approaching him. He mentally locked onto the shell for Blood Sacrifice, prepared to use the ability at any moment. It was far from a guarantee of victory, but it could create a distraction while he escaped. He was 100% confident that the monster would scream out any moment and attract the others to¡ª But it whispered instead, ¡°Hey¡­ Follow me¡­!¡± It was the lunatic. She grabbed his hand and pulled him along somewhere, and he decided that he had no alternative but to follow her. Every hair along his skin raised as he heard the occasional gorel stop near them and sniff the air. But every time, he heard the sound of a rock landing somewhere twenty meters away, likely thrown by the woman to create a distraction. It worked, and before long, they stepped onto an incline and climbed their way up, leaving the sounds of shuffling behind them. ¡°Wooo, that was close!¡± she said, taking something out of her dimension ring with a pop of air. It was a flashlight, he noticed, as she turned it on just in time to illuminate the fist flying directly into her face. He punched her with everything he had, only holding back on using Flowing Strike, and sent her tumbling across the ground. ¡°What the fuck is wrong with you!?¡± he screamed. ¡°Are you out of your goddamn mind!?¡± Chapter 69 - Conflict In the pure darkness of the night, Sophia tumbled to the ground, thrown back by the forceful blow. The flashlight that fell out of her hands clattered to the nearby soil and landed in a way that illuminated the crumpled form of the injured woman, part of the light falling on the crusted, bloody, torn armor covering Freddy¡¯s body. He watched her bleeding nose rapidly reconstruct itself as she burned another spark, all while doing his best to restrain himself from forcing her to use another one. ¡°I asked you a question!¡± he yelled. ¡°Are you out of your mind!?¡± ¡°Why did you do that!?¡± she screamed as she moved into a seated position. ¡°What the hell do you mean why!?¡± he shouted, uncaring of who or what might hear them. ¡°You just tried to fucking kill me!?¡± he screamed while gesturing behind them to the still-echoing screams of gorels looking for them. She looked scandalized by the accusation. ¡±What!? No I didn¡¯t!¡± ¡°What else could you have possibly been trying to accomplish by throwing me off a cliff into a horde of monsters! What did you think was gonna happen?¡± ¡°I expected you to know how to fight!¡± she argued. ¡°If you hadn¡¯t cornered yourself at the start, you would have been fine!¡± His jaw dropped beneath the mask of his helm. An incredulous grin of pure disbelief stretched his lips as he barked out a bewildered laugh. ¡°You wha¡ªthat¡¯s your excuse!? So it¡¯s my fault!? We¡¯ll see how the authorities feel about that, you goddamn¡ª¡± His words caught in his throat as he felt a sudden, searing pain spread through his back and stomach. Sophia¡¯s eyes bulged as they locked on to the pitch-black claws protruding from his torso. He turned as fast as he could, gritting his teeth in anger at his stupidity as he faced the ghoulish form of a pale-furred deviant that had overheard their shouting. A cold, sickening feeling radiated from its claws as the creature focused, and he felt his entire body grow numb as his guts rapidly rotted away at the inpour of death-affinity essence flooding in through the attack. With a furious growl, he reached his arm behind its back, catching the deviant off-guard as it had likely expected him to be unable to move under the paralyzing flood of essence. His hand landed on the creature¡¯s skull with a mighty grip as he pushed Hydraulic Flex to its maximum output, trying to crush its head. It wasn¡¯t enough. It roared with pain as it doubled down on its attack while swinging its other claw at his arm. Its clumsy, reflexive swing was blocked by the metallic bracers while he ignited both of his stars and used Flowing Strike; the force of the raging wave of water reached his hand, transferring into his grip as both the tips of his fingers and the deviant¡¯s skull exploded under the pressure, splattering the nearby area with blood and brain matter. His shaky arm grabbed the creature¡¯s arm and yanked it out of his back as he collapsed to the ground, barely staying conscious. A bone-piercing cold invaded his bloodstream, and the sound of distant ringing echoed with the woman¡¯s screams as she rushed to help him out. ¡°Stay away from me!¡± he yelled with all the will he could muster. ¡°I don¡¯t need your help!¡± He watched her face turn into an expression of awed horror as he forced himself back up to his feet. With a moment of focus, he pulled the machete out of the storage ring and started cleaving away at the nearby grass. His talent barely managed to stop his bleeding. ¡°You can¡¯t heal from this!¡± she yelled as she grabbed his arm. ¡°The death essence has invaded your body, and¡ª¡± ¡°Shut up!¡± he shouted stubbornly, pushing her arm away. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me what I can or can¡¯t do!¡± With frightened steps, she backed away, and he waddled forward, continuously swinging at the grass below his feet. The sense of time passing grew distant as he kept swinging his machete. A constant buzzing, blurry vision, and patches of pure black made seeing straight almost impossible as he wandered into the darkness. Several times, he found himself lying on the ground, not even knowing how he made it there, but each time, he forced himself up, fighting the weakness building up in his soul, body, and mind. There was a light. Someone was shining a flashlight before his feet. It was that lunatic. She kept trying to help him, but he pushed her away, refusing to accept assistance from someone like her. ¡°You spoiled brat,¡± he found himself speaking, feeling more like he was remembering a conversation from the past than having one in the present. ¡°Fifteen years of martial arts training?¡± he asked deliriously. ¡°What a lax life¡­ you must have had,¡± he accused. ¡°You must think I¡¯m so far below you¡­ I¡¯ll show you when I¡¯m done healing¡­ who you¡¯re playing with.¡± The woman said something, but it sounded like nothing but distant buzzing, like the sound of a mosquito flying around his ears. ¡°Shut up,¡± he demanded. ¡°Just watch.¡± Time blurred. He felt the comforting sensation of tears streaming down his face. He was crying? Why was he crying? Images of happy moments from his life interspersed with the sudden realization that he was fighting gorels. Ignoring their bites and scratches, he swung the machete at them the way he cleaved the grass, feeling intense pulses of life force flashing through his body as they brought him back from the brink of death and dispelled the sight of his life flashing before his eyes. At some point, daytime blinked the night away. Either it had come back surprisingly quickly, or he had been wandering in that state far longer than he was aware. The woman was also gone. Be it grass or stray monsters, he kept cleaving and healing, feeling himself avoiding what he was sure should have been an inescapable death. Eventually, as if he¡¯d suddenly woken up, the delirium dispelled, clearing his mind. He couldn¡¯t help but snicker. ¡°I didn¡¯t pass out this time,¡± he said proudly. Although his body was in one piece, the death essence hadn¡¯t been expelled from his body. He felt cold, and the feeling of sickness and weakness didn¡¯t go away even as he healed back to effectively perfect health. Slowly raising his hand, he observed the way it shivered. He balled his fingers into a fist. He still felt tired, and his mind felt foggy. Despite that, he forced himself to walk onward, willing his feet to take him down a path leading back to the passage. Although he was entirely lucid, he kept blanking out, as if he was failing to commit new experiences to memory. The only emotion he felt was a cold, simmering anger. Once he got his hands on that woman, he¡¯d wring her neck and bury her body deep in the realm, somewhere where nobody would find it. Her actions were inexcusable. She wouldn¡¯t get away with it. Eventually, he made it to the second floor of the lobby. But he had no recollection of how he got there. Making his way into the stripping booth, he removed the loose pieces of armor that still clung to his bloody form and put them over the counter. They were so ragged and torn that most of them were garbage, but he wasn¡¯t thinking about that. As he waited for it to be repaired, he sat down on the bench in the stripping booth right before the mirror showing his reflection. His skin was deathly pale and sagging¡ªhis eyes were sunken, and his hair looked flat, almost as if it had thinned. ¡°Maybe I could take a short nap¡­¡± his words trailed off as his eyes slammed shut, and he fell asleep. *** Freddy woke up and opened his eyes. The cold ceiling of the infirmary welcomed him, its gray, joyless luster perfectly reflecting how he felt. ¡°Fuck my life¡­¡± he muttered as he raised his hands to his face, rubbing his eyes and sighing deeply. Looking around, he spotted the few dozen beds reserved for those who returned injured from a delve, roughly half of them filled with other recovering delvers. He sighed. So much for not losing consciousness. Even if they hadn¡¯t treated him for anything, the mere fact that he was there meant he would be slammed by a hefty bill. But he just couldn¡¯t muster the energy to feel angry at that for some reason. No, he merely felt tired. His hand looked ghastly and deflated, and his nails were purple. He felt as if his entire body was sagging, like meat that had been tenderized. A nurse walked into the room and spotted that he was awake. The woman told him that he was in a stable condition and allowed to leave if he wanted. He was handed a paper detailing the medical examination and¡­ a bill, of course. But it wasn¡¯t what he expected to see. The total cost was $34,586. Only around fifteen thousand was the hospital bill, the most considerable cost of which was the extensive tests they had put him through to see what was wrong with him, while the rest was the price of the armor repair. He didn¡¯t necessarily need to pay for the latter, but if he didn¡¯t, his equipment would be auctioned off to cover the cost, with excess money being returned to him. Again, he faced something that should have infuriated him, but he couldn¡¯t muster the energy to feel that way. He merely signed the form and authorized the payment, then waited for his equipment to arrive. Once it did, it looked battered as hell. The helmet looked as if it had been hammered back into shape after getting crushed, the jacket and pants had dozens of patches on it, and one of the bracers was just new, likely having to be replaced entirely. His footwear was mostly fine, though, proving its value once again. Sighing deeply, he put the armor back on, replaced the hospital gown, and stepped back outside. Once he left the room, he found himself in the second-floor lobby. There, he saw the lunatic who was guilty of all this sleeping on a nearby bench. This time, he could muster the energy to feel angry. The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. He marched over to her and flicked her forehead to wake her up. ¡°Ouch!¡± she yelled. ¡°What the¡ª¡± she started as she turned and came face to face with him. ¡°Oh¡­ Hi?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t you ¡®hi¡¯ me,¡± he spat coldly. Although he¡¯d been fantasizing about the ways he¡¯d get his revenge, for some reason, now that he was faced with the woman standing before him, he felt some of the anger deflate slightly. He was still livid, but now, with a clear mind, he saw a much more acceptable way to deal with her. ¡°We¡¯re going to report what you did,¡± he declared, leaving no room for debate. ¡°Either you cooperate, or I get my due myself. Your choice,¡± he threatened. ¡°Before that, can I¡ª¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°Just hear me out!¡± ¡°Get up and¡ª¡± his words caught in his throat as the woman raised her hand and, with a puff of air, summoned a pitch-black prime vestige. His eyes narrowed. ¡°Where did you get that?¡± ¡°It manifested when you killed the deviant,¡± she said as she raised her arm and handed it over to him. ¡°Are you trying to buy my forgiveness? This belongs to me anyway, you know?¡± ¡°I just want you to hear me out,¡± she said. He snatched the prime out of her hand. Looking at the prime¡¯s cat-like, black eyes, he asked, ¡°What are your affinities?¡± ¡°Dark and death,¡± it said, cackling with a shifty undertone to its voice. ¡°What talent do you hold?¡± ¡°If you accept me into your soul,¡± it started the explanation, ¡°you will be granted the power of haste upon the demise of a foe.¡± On-kill speed boost, he mused internally. Double affinity and a combat talent¡­ He had read about the value of primes and how it was usually calculated. With these characteristics, it would sell for between one and three million dollars. He looked back down to the woman. While he still held on to his anger, now it felt like trying to squeeze a bar of soap. Joy, that wretched thing, was competing for the limited emotional space he had in his mind at that moment. Well¡­ she didn¡¯t seem to be intent on running away, he thought, sighing as he sat next to her. ¡°Speak.¡± She looked back up at him and then down, her shoulders visibly relaxing as she released a breath. ¡°Thank you,¡± she said. ¡°You have nothing to thank me for,¡± he stated as he slowly sat beside her, his actions resembling those of an old mortal man trying to take a seat. ¡°I¡¯ll still report what you¡¯ve done after our conversation.¡± ¡°What!?¡± she yelled. ¡°But¡ª¡± ¡°But what?¡± he interrupted, turning his head to face her, the two holes in his helm revealing the tired, ghoulish eyes beneath. ¡°Are you trying to insinuate that not stealing my prime counts as repayment?¡± He sneered. ¡°Hurry up and speak. I want to go home and sleep. The fact that I nearly died because of you,¡± he intoned slowly, ¡°made me rather exhausted.¡± She bit her lip as she looked away, her hands clenching the hem of her filthy, torn shirt. For a few long minutes, the two of them sat there in silence. He wanted to tell her to just hurry up and speak, but the fatigue dominating his body made even opening his mouth exhausting. Finally, she spoke, ¡°Have you ever heard of acute pain relief syndrome?¡± He scowled at the bizarre question. His fatigued mind crawled over to the corner where he stored information on subjects like that, and once it retrieved the relevant info, his eyes widened slightly. ¡°Shit¡­¡± he whispered. Popping a pimple. Cracking one¡¯s back. Pulling out a thorn. All three actions had one thing in common¡ªthey felt good. Doing any of those was frequently accompanied by an acute sense of relief. That relief flooded the body and mind with pleasure chemicals. While this could result in bad habits, like a tendency to pop pimples whenever they appeared, it was rarely ever detrimental to human beings. However, things became slightly different when ether healing was involved. When a person suffered from some form of affliction long enough for the body to acclimate to it, an extreme dose of healing applied in a short period of time had a similar effect¡ªwith just one small difference: it was way more extreme. Freddy had experienced this exact thing twice already. Once in the caverns, when he finally healed the last of the aftermath from getting tortured for so long, and once briefly after killing Matthew Vane. He had read up on many subjects related to healing during his time in the library. One of those subjects covered acute pain relief syndrome¡ªAPRS. Freddy himself had a relatively minor sensitivity to APRS. His reaction manifested with an uncontrollable urge to break down and cry, with a brief but intense feeling of euphoria immediately afterwards. Not everyone reacted the same way. Some people passed out, others shit themselves instantly, and some people¡­ well¡­ some people reacted the same as if they¡¯d taken a large dose of hard drugs. He thought back to the moment after Sophia healed herself. The gross way her face flushed with ecstasy and the way she shivered with the sensation. It was clear which category she fell into. He scoffed once he finally put the pieces together. ¡°Yeah. I know what it is. What are you trying to say?¡± She hesitated as she shrank slightly, looking quite remorseful, at least on the surface. ¡°I wasn¡¯t entirely in control of my actions when I did what I did.¡± ¡°Mhm¡­ I¡¯m sure you weren¡¯t.¡± ¡°I¡¯d like to apologize. I wasn¡¯t thinking straight when I¡ª¡± ¡°While the effect can be quite disinhibitory,¡± he cut her off, ¡°it¡¯s not like you were possessed by a ghost who made your decisions for you. You had your reasons and you made your decision.¡± He turned to look at her. ¡°I¡¯ve seen regular people take some hard fucking shit,¡± he declared, a brief flash of pain flickering through the flinch in his eyes and a downward tug on his lips. ¡°Some stuff makes people go crazy, but the effect of APRS would be closer to a speedball. I¡¯m sure it affected your thinking, but it didn¡¯t make your choices for you. So why?¡± he asked. ¡°And be honest with me, here¡ªwhy did you do that?¡± She paused as she looked at him, a hint of fear playing through her eyes. She averted her gaze. ¡°When I threw you off the cliff, I wasn¡¯t expecting you to be so¡­ inexperienced.¡± ¡°Let me ask you a question before you continue,¡± he said, ¡°is your explanation just going to be you insulting me? Because if you plan on blaming me for it, just tell me now and we¡¯re heading straight to moderation to report you.¡± She made eye contact with him through the slits in his armor. Her mouth opened, but the tired, dead look in his eyes shut her right up. She took a deep breath instead and slapped her cheeks. ¡°Okay,¡± she said. ¡°I know that anything I say will sound like an excuse, but¡ª¡± ¡°I don¡¯t care,¡± he said. ¡°If you want to make excuses, make excuses; if you want to insult me, insult me; just please get it over with.¡± Taking another deep breath, she nodded. ¡°All right,¡± she said. ¡°When I threw you off the cliff, I wasn¡¯t trying to kill you.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sure you weren¡¯t.¡± She winced at that. ¡°Yeah¡­ Things went quite differently in my head.¡± ¡°Mhmmm,¡± he kept responding sarcastically. ¡°I thought that, right, you¡¯re super strong, but for some reason, you seemed overly cautious,¡± she rambled. ¡°Then I realized that, right, duh¡ªyou only saw me as a beginner! Maybe you felt responsible for my safety, so I wanted to prove that you have nothing to fear!¡± His eyebrow raised beneath the helmet. She continued. ¡°My plan was to show my skills off and prove that we can take anything on! Even if we mess something up, we can recover perfectly if we don¡¯t die instantly. If you think about it, the synergy between our talents makes it only logical to take risks since the actual danger is minimal, relatively speaking, of course, but still.¡± The longer he listened to this woman speak, the stronger his headache became. ¡°When I saw you get surrounded¡­¡± she continued. ¡°How are you so bad at fighting?¡± she asked. He snorted. ¡°That¡¯s none of your business.¡± ¡°Look,¡± she said. ¡°I¡­ I can help you! I know a ton about martial arts, and if you let me mmmmh¡ª¡± Finally, he could no longer tolerate listening to her. His right arm shot out, and he slammed her mouth shut. ¡°Please stop talking.¡± He sighed. She looked at him, and her eyes opened wide. Likely believing that she had failed, she flailed her arms and tried to remove his hand, which was closed in a steel grip around her mouth. Now that his fury had worn off, the longer he listened to her ramble, the more obvious it became¡ªshe wasn¡¯t malicious; she was just stupid. Well, stupid was harsh, it was better to say that she was inexperienced. Sheltered, maybe. Spoiled. Her thought process was selfish and clearing from an entirely different worldview than his own. She was no doubt used to seeing elite two-stars, people who knew how to use the power they had far better than Freddy did. Still¡­ Malicious or not, she was a massive liability. Delving with her after the stunt she pulled was out of the question. But she was privy to one of his biggest secrets. He couldn¡¯t just let her go. As he glanced at the squirming woman trapped in his grasp, he felt a pang of disgust shoot through his gut. In so many ways, this woman embodied everything he hated about archhuman society. She was so privileged and out of touch with reality, willing to do whatever she pleased with the lives of others. His anger resurged when he had a thought¡ªwould she even get punished if he reported her? What were the odds that whoever her clan or family was would hear of this and pull some strings to set her free? Or worse¡­ What were the odds that they would retaliate against him? The very thought made him tighten the grip on her mouth. She squealed. Should he just¡­ take care of her? He froze. The thought had come so easily to him. Hell, it took no effort to come up with a full-fledged plan. Pretend to forgive her, take her out on another delve, and just¡­ take care of her. And just like that, the problem would go away. But¡­ he didn¡¯t want to do that. He didn¡¯t want to stoop that low. If he stepped on the path of doing whatever it took to further his goals¡­ he would simply slot right in. Just another archhuman with a penchant for cruelty. The image of the pool of blood widening around the corpse of a grieving father flashed in his mind. No¡­ he didn¡¯t want to do that. That wasn¡¯t who he wanted to become. But the same problem still stood. He couldn¡¯t just let her go. Even if she didn¡¯t babble about his talent, there was a chance she¡¯d reveal her talent and he¡¯d get caught up in the situation by proxy. The woman seemed to finally give up on her attempts to free herself, and just as her eyes teared up, he released his grip. She gasped and rubbed her red cheeks. ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m not going to report you.¡± She froze. Her piercing eyes turned to him with a ¡°Really!?¡± shining in them like a star. He rolled his eyes as he leaned his helmet on his hand. ¡°But,¡± he said, ¡°our little party isn¡¯t going to work out. You¡¯re not the type of person I want to delve with.¡± Before she could open her mouth, he cut her off, ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean we can¡¯t still cooperate.¡± There was still a use for this woman. Although her reasoning was silly, she wasn¡¯t wrong. He was horrible at fighting. It was his greatest weakness. All he had focused on until that point was growing his power, but his ability to use it was lacking, to say the least. His mind flashed over the details she mentioned. Indeed, he had royally messed that fight up. While she pushed forward, making her way into the mass of monsters before it could descend upon her like an avalanche, he froze until he was literally buried beneath a pile of bodies. She knew how to fight. This was a rare chance to get his hands on tutelage by someone who was born and raised with a powerful background. He leaned forward, resting his chin on his crossed arms. ¡°Our talents synergize. Also, you can¡ª¡± ¡°That¡¯s right!¡± she yelled, smacking her hands together as she seemed to remember something. She turned her piercing purple eyes at him with a gleaming madness shining through as she declared, ¡°I think I can make us immortal!¡± Chapter 70 - Possession Freddy stared at the woman, feeling more tired than ever before in his life. ¡°We are already immortal,¡± he reminded her. ¡°No,¡± she said, correcting herself, ¡°I¡¯m not talking about that kind of immortality.¡± His brain was too sluggish to catch on to what the woman was trying to say, and before he realized what she meant, she raised her hand and manifested a life spark¡ªbut it wasn¡¯t pink. It was a ghoulish, flickering gray. His eyes instantly shot wide open. ¡°Where did you get that?¡± he asked. She grinned. ¡°The corpse of the deviant you killed.¡± There was no such thing as the strongest tempering technique. They each had their functions and goals. But when people thought of notable ones, most remembered the Spark of Undeath. Affinities weren¡¯t made equal. This was perhaps most evident with the death affinity. While the stage zero generic tempering technique of the water affinity was Water Body, a relatively unnoteworthy boost to the balance of liquids in one¡¯s organism, the generic technique of the death affinity made the user unkillable. Well, not really. But it was close enough. When death-affinity beings flooded their own body with their essence, they made their life spark resistant to death itself. Simply put, the cells in their body no longer died from anything other than being directly destroyed. The only way to ¡°kill¡± them was to destroy the brain, which made the soul vacate the body, and even that didn¡¯t stop the body from simply living on, at least until it was fully devoured by fungi and bacteria. This came with numerous demerits. So many, in fact, that some countries had banned the Spark of Undeath tempering technique entirely. The first significant downside was the fact that the user would have to live through unimaginable agony if a big part of their body was destroyed. For this reason, it wasn¡¯t too uncommon for undead archhumans to be reduced to a state where they were begging for death. Or worse, in the case of the other major downside, as well as the main reason why so many cultures outright banned the technique, the user was driven so insane that they were functionally reduced to a monster. His fatigue was magically cast away once he realized what he was looking at. The numerous implications and possibilities flooded his head to the point where he got a headache. She opened her mouth to say something, but he pinched his forehead and raised a hand to stop her. ¡°No,¡± he said. ¡°Not now. We can talk about this later.¡± Nodding, she said, ¡°Tomorrow morning, then?¡± ¡°What time is it anyway?¡± he asked. ¡°It¡¯s 1 a.m.,¡± she answered, pointing at the massive clock on the other end of the room that he hadn¡¯t noticed. He sighed. ¡°Just go home for now. See you tomorrow at noon if I can wake up on time.¡± He started getting up. ¡°If I don¡¯t, wait for me in the lobby.¡± ¡°Wait!¡± she called. Stopping, he turned to face her. ¡°What?¡± ¡°I¡­¡± she started, blushing for some reason. ¡°I¡¯m uh¡­ I¡¯m currently homeless. Can I crash at your place?¡± He blinked at her. ¡°What?¡± he asked dumbfoundedly. ¡°Well, I uh¡­ I¡¯m kind of broke at the moment¡­¡± she explained. That left him stunned. Clenching his jaw slightly, he rubbed away the incoming headache. This blasted death essence coursing through his body wasn¡¯t making his life any easier. He was about to say that she should just rent a place somewhere. He¡¯d even give her the money. But would she even know how to do that? Not to mention it was 1 a.m. He did not have the energy to help her find a place to stay. For a brief moment, he entertained the idea of giving her fifty bucks and the directions to the shithole he camped at when he first arrived in Nova York, but¡­ Sighing dramatically, he turned around. ¡°Sure,¡± he said. ¡°Just¡­ Never mind, just follow me.¡± ¡°Yes, sir!¡± she shouted cheerfully, mock-saluting him as she got off the bench. *** Freddy had been hoping that the late hour would mean avoiding people as much as possible. Unfortunately, in such a major city, attention was unavoidable. It turned out that when a massive, masked man wearing full combat gear dragged along a small woman wearing filthy, ragged clothing, people got strange ideas. The looks he received on that walk were some of the nastiest he¡¯d ever witnessed in his life, and the masked helm was the only thing keeping him from dying from embarrassment. It also really didn¡¯t help that Sophia appeared relatively young. Supreme-quality healing removed any signs of aging, so outwardly, it was impossible to tell how old she was. She just looked young. His steps froze. An anxious feeling bubbled in his gut as he turned to face the strange woman. ¡°How¡­ How old are you?¡± he asked. If she had been studying martial arts for fifteen years, she had to be at least¡­ twenty¡­ right? ¡°I¡¯m thirty-two years old!¡± she replied cheerfully. ¡°Pfft¡ª¡± he spat. ¡°Excuse me!?¡± ¡°What?¡± she asked. She put her arms on her hips and raised an eyebrow. ¡°Why are you so surprised? Wait, how old are you?¡± she returned the question. ¡°No, wait, let me guess! Uh¡­ forty¡­ four?¡± He chortled. ¡°Close enough. You¡¯re only off by a factor of two.¡± She paled. ¡°You¡¯re eighty-eight!?¡± ¡°What? No, dumbass, I¡¯m twenty-two!¡± She gaped. ¡°Ooooh¡­¡± Then, she frowned. ¡°Wait, what!? God, you¡¯re such a geezer, though.¡± ¡°Says the thirty-year-old teenager,¡± he retorted, shaking his head. She must be from one hell of a strange place, he mused idly. Throughout the short walk back to his apartment, he felt some life return to him. He couldn¡¯t do anything to banish the death essence from his body, unfortunately, so he would have to wait until it slowly drained through the clash with his life force. Thankfully, he didn¡¯t have to worry about becoming deathly ill. Usually, something like this could leave a human bedridden for months. In a matter of minutes, they made it to his place. As soon as he walked inside, he realized that there was a major problem¡ªwhere would she sleep? The small armchair sofa wasn¡¯t big enough to sleep on, and as far as he knew, there were no spare sheets in the bedroom. There was only a single blanket on the bed. Sighing, he walked into the bedroom and grabbed his one and only cover. He folded it in half and placed it on the floor in the living room, making an improvised futon. She peeked into his room with squinted eyes and then looked back at him. He sighed. ¡°What?¡± ¡°You know, a true gentleman would offer his¡ª¡± ¡°Unfortunately, I¡¯m not a true gentleman, and I will kick you out on the streets if you don¡¯t keep your mouth shut.¡± Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. ¡°Duly noted,¡± she said jokingly, saluting him again. He shook his head. Now that they were indoors, he noticed that she smelled¡­ well¡­ exactly how she looked. His own body had at least been wiped clean at the infirmary while she radiated the stench of dried blood and sweat. ¡°You can shower first,¡± he offered. ¡°Oh, now you¡¯re being a gentleman?¡± she mocked. ¡°I¡¯ll need a change of clothes, at least.¡± He sighed, walking into his room. As far as clothes were concerned, he had close to nothing. As he became bigger and bigger, he constantly outgrew his clothing, and whenever something became too small, he donated it to a nearby charity he walked past whenever he went to the library. Throwing clothes into the trash made him feel guilty. All he had at that moment was a giant gray hoodie and the luxurious slim-fit white shirt as far as tops were concerned, and his sweatpants were gigantic. The torn jeans he bought were also way too big. Technically, he also had his gym clothes, but they were stashed away in his private locker in the gym. ¡°Wooow¡­¡± she chirped, leaning over him and staring into his closet. ¡°How can men live like this?¡± ¡°Rich coming from a woman who has nothing!¡± ¡°Well I¡­ Shut up!¡± Sighing again, he threw the slim-fit shirt at her. It was still approximately seven sizes too large, but that was all he could offer. Her frow burrowed slightly as she brought her nose to the shirt. ¡°This smells like smoke,¡± she said, leaning even closer. ¡°Oh, and women¡¯s perfume. Ugh. Gross.¡± Growling in frustration, he tore the shirt from her hands and walked into the toilet. After squirting a few drops of hand soap on the shirt, he used Create Water on it and scrubbed it over the sink. After thoroughly washing it off, the manifested water rapidly evaporated back into water essence and disappeared, leaving the shirt completely dry. ¡°Here you¡ª¡± he started, turning around to hand her the shirt, only to find her staring at him with an absolutely mortified expression. ¡°What?¡± he asked. ¡°You did not just wash a fancy shirt with hand soap! You animal!¡± He rolled his eyes. ¡°Better than women¡¯s perfume and smoke, isn¡¯t it?¡± he said as he threw the shirt back at her. Squinting, she asked, ¡°Any chance you have a hidden closet with extra bottoms?¡± ¡°Nope,¡± he said. ¡°You can take the sweatpants if you want.¡± She groaned at that. ¡°Seeing how you have no habit of washing your clothes properly? No, this will do,¡± she said, moving slightly out of his way so he could leave the bathroom. He left and sat in the living room while she finished. What he wanted more than anything at that moment was sleep. Interacting with this woman was more exhausting than the death essence that was literally killing him. Eventually, the doors of the bathroom opened, and she¡ª ¡°What the fuck are you doing?¡± he asked, staring at her. She had squatted down and pulled the shirt over her knees, and now she was waddling forward like a fat, white penguin. ¡°I don¡¯t want you to see my legs,¡± she declared. He watched her slowly make her way to the improvised futon. Then, she rolled over and lied down. He couldn¡¯t stop himself from laughing a bit as he shook his head and took his helmet off¡ª Holding his masked helm in the air, he froze as he realized what he had just done. He turned to face the woman who was now looking at him with wide eyes. ¡°Yikes,¡± she said. ¡°I thought you were hiding your face because you¡¯re ugly, but you¡¯re hot, and now this is really awkward.¡± He chuckled at that, shaking his head again. ¡°What? Finally sinking in that you decided to stay over at a stranger''s home?¡± he asked as he put his helmet on the table. ¡°Maybe you¡¯re taking a bigger risk than you thought,¡± he suggested teasingly. ¡°Nah,¡± she denied, sneering at him as she dropped her face back on the pillow. ¡°I can fend for myself.¡± He snorted and shook his head. ¡°Good night,¡± he said as he walked over to the bathroom. After finally properly cleaning himself and getting ready for bed, he walked into his room and moved the nightstand in front of the door to block it off. There were no keys on the bedroom door, unfortunately, and he wanted to ensure that she couldn¡¯t sneak into his room and slit his throat or something. He didn¡¯t think she would do that, but she had proven herself dangerous enough to warrant caution. She must have heard the sound of him moving the piece of furniture as she suddenly started laughing in the other room. ¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± he said. ¡°Laugh all you want, you crazy¡­ You already tried killing me once. I ain¡¯t taking any chances.¡± Rather than respond, she just laughed harder. He shook his head and lay on the bed. Moments later, his eyes slammed shut, and he fell asleep. *** Rahal walked into the underground section of their compound. The gray concrete walls dimly reflected the weak light from the ether lamps scattered through the hallways. He slowly made his way forward until he reached the end of the path he was heading down. There, he turned around and walked into the elevator. There were seven buttons, each taking to a different floor. Rather than press one of them, he held 5, 6, and 2 simultaneously for three seconds. They glowed yellow upon being pressed and, after being held, turned red. The elevator went two floors down and then turned right, traveling to the secret prison chamber. When he stepped out, he walked into a small room, which was nearly empty other than the four people who were in it, with its only notable feature being the large, one-way glass window that looked into the chamber where their heavily restrained prisoners were held. Three guards stood to the side with their weapons in hand. And in the middle of the room, sitting on a fancy office chair, was Nahar, the young patriarch of the Kraven Clan. Rahal stepped forth and knelt before him. ¡°Greetings, Patriarch,¡± he greeted his nephew. ¡°Yo, uncle,¡± Nahar greeted him in turn. ¡°Any news about the blood samples?¡± he asked. He tried not to sigh. ¡°Nothing. As far as the tests can conclude, these two are ordinary human beings.¡± ¡°I see,¡± the young patriarch said, sighing. ¡°What do we do about this¡­?¡± he asked nobody in particular. The two prisoners trapped in the room both hung off heavily reinforced metallic chains. The chamber itself was warded to prevent any possibility of an escape. The first among the two, the man who introduced himself as ¡®Kaefalge,¡¯ was resting with his eyes closed. Both he and the woman¡ªFirrita¡ªhad numerous small scars around their mouths. The two had been questioned endlessly, and some questions were¡­ forbidden. That was the only way to put it. Whoever was their backer had placed some form of curse on them, and if they tried sharing information about certain things, a blocky, strange phenomenon would manifest around their mouths, censoring any sound coming out and leaving lesions over their tongues and the general mouth area. Frankly, it creeped everyone out. As far as their story of what happened to the former patriarch was concerned, either they had perfectly synchronized a made-up story, or they were telling the truth. Rahal had been convinced that they were almost definitely lying. But things, unfortunately, weren¡¯t so simple. Questions about their origin or any information on their background seemed to be censored through this strange curse. The most unusual part about that censorship was that they themselves didn¡¯t seem to know that it had been placed on them, and they had seemingly no idea what they were allowed to say and what they weren¡¯t. Things only got more complicated with the details they inadvertently let slip through. Mentions of strange cultures and mysterious locations, information about the nature of ether that seemed more advanced than what humanity had, and the total lack of knowledge about modern society stood out the most. They had only returned from their hunt after these people earlier that day, and as soon as the young patriarch saw them, he demanded they be put into the highest-security containment unit they had. After Rahal heard the details of the patriarch¡¯s mission with Madame Morleppe, his reaction was instantly justified. These two were the ones responsible for the destruction of Camp Violet, an incident that happened at roughly the same time as the patriarch¡¯s death. That discovery didn¡¯t perturb Nahar at all. He merely asked them a single follow-up question: ¡°Did the person you claim killed the patriarch also have square eyes?¡± They said no. ¡°If I may ask, Young Patriarch,¡± Rahal started. ¡°For what reason did you ask whether that one-star they claim to have seen also had square eyes?¡± Nahar clicked his tongue, tapping his index finger on his leg as he stared at the two hanging prisoners. ¡°Because the person they describe might be the person Madame was searching for.¡± Rahal¡¯s eyes widened as he lifted his head. ¡°Do you mean¡­¡± ¡°Indeed,¡± Nahar said. ¡°Freddy Stern.¡± That made him freeze. If that was the case, the ridiculous story of their two captives just became more credible. Rahal¡¯s eidetic memory was one of the main reasons why he held the position he did, so it naturally took him a mere moment to recall the man¡¯s connection to the bloodshed remnant. And, if not explain, it would at least justify Madame¡¯s interest in the man. ¡°How is that possible¡­?¡± he breathed out. He wasn¡¯t willing to believe it, though. A one-star had killed his brother, the patriarch? That was simply too absurd to consider. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Nahar said. ¡°But the massive skulls they claim to have seen might also be connected to this somehow. The anomalous realm we found was populated by strange wisps that invaded bodies. That is most definitely the origin of these two.¡± ¡°Do you suggest that the man who killed the patriarch was also possessed?¡± Nahar pondered it. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± he said. ¡°Maybe. But if his eyes hadn¡¯t changed, it could be a different type of possession. Or maybe he turned it around, absorbing some form of power by overcoming a trial?¡± the man mused. ¡°In either case, this spells trouble. The man Madame was looking for is still alive,¡± he said. ¡°She seemed to be sure of it¡­ And if that¡¯s the case, there is an ungodly monster capable of fighting way above his rank somewhere out there.¡± Rahal¡¯s expression hardened. ¡°Do you think he¡¯ll come looking for revenge?¡± Nahar pondered the question. ¡°I hope not,¡± he said. ¡°We already have more than enough trouble to deal with.¡± Chapter 71 - Auction Mark found himself walking in a dark forest, a muted moon barely illuminating his path. It was the darkest night¡ªwhere the worst things happened. He had no recollection of this place; not at first, at least. But as his steps moved him forward, past the trees and low, scattered brush, he eventually smelled a note that tickled the far back of his mind. It was a swampy, unpleasant smell. He had been here before. In a distant time, when things were simpler. A time when he had been innocent. As the image of the trees overlapped with a memory, his breath hastened. Sweat pooled over his body, and his hands shivered. He knew where he was. Slowly, with unspeakable terror, he turned to face the small patch of marsh. The small pond stirred. It bubbled and boiled, overflowing with putrid liquid as a figure clawed its way out. The muck and algae dripped down the man¡¯s body as he straightened his back. Although his body was obscured by a profound darkness, shadows concealing his features and hiding his eyes, Mark recognized him immediately. ¡°Hey, dude,¡± Freddy greeted him. ¡°Long time no see.¡± ¡°S¡ª¡± Mark started, finding his words catching in his throat. ¡°Stay the hell away from me!¡± he screamed as his legs suddenly gave out and fell to the ground, pushing his way back. ¡°Hmm?¡± the man hummed, cocking his head slowly until it leaned at a ninety-degree angle. ¡°What¡¯s with the reaction?¡± he asked, stepping forward. ¡°What, did you become too rich to talk to me?¡± Mark shouted and sobbed, trying to apologize with every breath he took, but it was as if he was swallowing barbed wire. The image of Freddy slowly moved into the pale light, dragging the swampy growth behind him. With heavy steps, he exited the darkness as the moon illuminated his square eyes. ¡°Come on, dude, it¡¯s not funny.¡± Mark woke up shouting, whirling as he looked around, seeking a phantom in the darkness of the night. Nobody was there. His shouts gradually turned into pained wails as his throat gave out. He couldn¡¯t calm down. He curled into a ball, hugging his knees as he sobbed, the image of the ghoulish eyes seared into the back of his mind. ¡°Oh, God¡­¡± he muttered to himself, shivering and sweating as he pulled the covers over his head. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry¡­¡± *** ¡°What¡¯s for breakfast?¡± Sophia asked Freddy as soon as he stepped out of his bedroom. ¡°Good morning to you, too, freeloader,¡± he answered, shaking his head in amusement. Where the hell was this woman finding all this energy this early in the day? Granted, it was already past noon, and her being hungry didn¡¯t really come as a surprise. He himself felt quite a bit better, although he still felt kind of ill. The death essence had all but vanished from his body, leaving plenty of damage on its way out. Yet again, he found himself blessed to have 1% Lifesteal, a talent that could make the awful feeling go away. She kept staring at him with expectant eyes, and he sighed. ¡°Sit down. I¡¯ll bring the food.¡± Sophia cheerfully obeyed, plopping herself down on one of the two chairs placed beside the small table. She hummed a tune, bobbing her head to the left and right. It took him a long moment to recognize the alien grunts as an attempt at singing. ¡°How tone-deaf can you be?¡± he called teasingly. The woman simply ignored him, continuing her nonsense. He walked over to the fridge and opened it. Barring a few eggs that had been sitting there for almost a month, the scattering of random crap that had gone bad a while ago, and the massive packets of canned coffee and energy drinks, he found nothing edible in the fridge. He was supposed to go to the store yesterday, but that had slipped his mind, given all that happened. Shrugging, he walked over to a cupboard instead. He opened it and pulled out a bag containing three-day-old bread. It hadn¡¯t gotten moldy yet. He stared at the bread for a long moment, then turned to face the freeloader sitting at the table. Technically speaking, the woman had access to the same advantage his talent gave him. A small smile curled up on his lips. It was time to teach her a small diet life hack exclusive to the two of them. He was sure the woman would be incredibly thankful. Walking over to the table, he plopped the bag of stale bread and opened it. For half a second, the woman looked expectant, only for her expectation to turn into confusion. ¡°This is just bread. Where is the food?¡± ¡°This is the food,¡± he said as he took a piece of bread out and put it into his mouth. It was dry and chewy. ¡°Mmmmm, nutrients.¡± She smiled and stared at him as she crossed her arms. ¡°You¡¯re seriously going to eat that?¡± she asked. ¡°Yeah.¡± He nodded and continued to chomp on his meal. ¡°Okay,¡± she said, her smile widening as she gestured at the bag. ¡°Go ahead,¡± she challenged. It seemed that she believed he was simply messing with her. Unfortunately for her, he wasn¡¯t. To really hammer it in, he got a large glass of water. Then, without a hint of humor or reluctance in his movement, he dipped a piece of stale bread to wet it and put the soggy pastry into his mouth. At first, her smile grew a bit strained. But as he kept eating, an expression of pure terror descended upon her. ¡°You¡¯re seriously going to eat that!?¡± she asked, looking thoroughly disgusted. Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. ¡°Well, this is all I have.¡± ¡°Order something,¡± she commanded more than suggested, gawking in disbelief. ¡°Don¡¯t you know how important your diet is?¡± He smiled ear to ear. ¡°We have an infinite source of supreme-quality healing,¡± he reminded her, smiling widely. ¡°As long as we supply enough nutrients, our bodies will remain perfectly healthy no matter how we get our energy¡± ¡°And you think bread alone is enough for that?¡± ¡°Why¡¯d I waste my money on anything else?¡± ¡°Uh¡­¡± She blinked at him. ¡°You do know your body needs more than just empty carbs, right?¡± His smile widened further as he got up and opened another cupboard. He pulled out another small bag and spilled it out on the table. Numerous crappy supplements and multivitamins fell out, some rolling over the side of the table and falling to the ground. She watched in abject horror as he proceeded to fill a bowl with numerous pills, fill it with water, and then eat it with a spoon as if he were eating cereal. ¡°Oh my God¡­¡± she whispered. ¡°Oh! My! God!¡± she screamed. ¡°I¡¯m actually going to puke,¡± she said as she put an arm to her mouth and made belching sounds. He swallowed another spoonful of pills as he grinned toothily at her. *** Freddy cheerfully waved Sophia goodbye as she left the apartment, holding a borrowed $100 bill she would use to buy new clothes and get something to eat. As soon as she left, he sprinted to the toilet, unable to contain the disaster he had brewed in his stomach. Eating supplements like that wasn¡¯t a good idea. A sweaty, exhausting half-hour later, he crawled out, looking pale and clenching his stomach. ¡°Totally worth it,¡± he said, stumbling over to the exit from the apartment. Sophia and he had arranged to meet in the evening, as he had a few things to take care of. The first of which was something he was itching to do as soon as possible¡ªselling the prime vestige. Usually, he would be too paranoid to sell it, fearing getting scammed, but being a two-star came with many privileges those of lower rank in society didn¡¯t have. One of these privileges was access to certain special services. Given that he was actively delving, he had accounted for the possibility of finding a prime. And he had naturally researched the best way to sell it. Although there were many options, he realistically only really had two. The first was the same as what he did with the Super Farmer prime¡ªsell it to a trader. This was a risky option, and traders naturally wanted the odds in their favor. But they could also lose money during such a deal. They were the ones who took the risk of auctioning the prime, so if it went poorly, they suffered a loss. When dealing with suckers like Freddy, it was easy as hell for them to crack a profit, so if they could, they always went down this route. But as their clientele increased in personal power and decreased in naivete, they were forced to get a bit more¡­ flexible. This was where the second option came in, a service he could only get as a certified two-star archhuman or a member of a reputable organization. He was going to commission a trader to sell the prime for him. Sure, it would cost him 10% of the total profit, but it removed the risk of getting utterly scammed. Freddy walked over to the local branch of the ATA, which was only a ten-minute walk from where he was renting. The building was quite a bit smaller than the one he saw back in Pittersville, and while it had a similar style on the inside, it looked considerably more worn down. He went to a trader¡¯s office and walked inside, where he was greeted by a chubby, balding man. The two of them talked, and he decided to commission the trader. The trader offered him a million dollars upfront, and it took every bit of willpower he had to refuse. The man was insistent, claiming this was the safer option for him, but he remained stubborn. Even if he ultimately earned less money, he could live with that far easier than he could with getting scammed again. There were three different types of auctions in which they could participate. The first was the bullet auction, which lasted only an hour; the second lasted a day, and the third lasted a week. The longer ones were better for more exotic primes since they gave the right buyers more time to find them and start competing. The bullet auction was the best choice for the prime Freddy was selling. It was a desirable prime with many prospective buyers, and it wouldn¡¯t struggle to reach a reasonable price, while it would most likely get buried deep in the longer auctions. He took the trader¡¯s advice. The more money he earned, the more money the trader earned. Their interests were perfectly aligned. Both men signed the documents, sealing their agreement in formal writing, and without further ado, the prime was up for sale. What proceeded was the most intense hour of his life. At first, he sweated as the prime struggled to break through fifty thousand dollars. Only around fifty minutes in did it step past the hundred thousand mark. A deep pit was forming in his stomach as he watched the price inch forward. Was he about to suffer a massive loss? Had his hubris come to bite him in the ass once again? But then, as the timer ticked to below five minutes, he watched the price instantly soar above two hundred thousand. He nearly jumped out of the chair in excitement, and yet again as the price leaped by another fifty thousand dollars. The price no longer increased in small increments, but when it jumped, it soared by tens of thousands at the very least. He cheered it on, biting his knuckles anxiously as he watched the price rise. Five hundred thousand. Six hundred thousand. Seven hundred thousand. The timer dropped below ten seconds, and he waited for the final push, anxiously anticipating a massive series of jumps¡­ One that never came. The price went up a few more times, ending the auction at 780,000 dollars. He sagged in the chair, watching the countdown reach zero. 10% went to the trader, so his final tally was 702,000 dollars. He would have earned 300,000 more had he sold the prime up front. Rather than rage and throw a tantrum, he simply smiled and shrugged. Whatever. It genuinely didn¡¯t bother him. In his own eyes, this was merely one of who knew how many primes he would sell in his life. If he kept bearing the burden of risk, he would come out on top in the long run. And, by all means, this sum was more than enough for his current needs. *** Freddy sat in the Santorio Hub lobby, arriving thirty minutes earlier than the arranged meeting with Sophia. He was clad in his full gear, but even despite that fact, his body language alone made it easy to tell that he was in an excellent mood. After paying his taxes and closing his loan with the bank, he was left with a total of 649,412.12 dollars in his bank account. It wasn¡¯t a particularly impressive sum for a two-star warrior, but it was a solid safety net, nonetheless. Eventually, Sophia finally showed up, and they headed towards the passage. ¡°How much money did you earn?¡± she asked him. ¡°None of your business,¡± he answered. She pouted at him but didn¡¯t ask a second time. As they walked into the realm, they found that it was daytime. They made their way to the hiding spot where they had their first meeting and climbed over the boulders as they made their way into the small hole. He sat down, crossing one leg over another. ¡°So,¡± he started, looking up at her, ¡°let¡¯s talk about that spark of undeath.¡± Chapter 72 - Undeath Freddy stood beside Sophia, frowning at the tiny blob of flesh on the ground. At first glance, the chunk of meat looked no different than any other captured life spark, with its vague squirming and pinkish hue. But not only was it not the same thing, it was something that, theoretically, shouldn¡¯t even exist. ¡°You¡¯re sure that your talent isn¡¯t illegal?¡± he asked the woman, his gaze burning a hole into the back of her skull as she sweated. ¡°I¡­ Well¡­ I never actually got it evaluated, so¡­¡± Freddy sighed, pinching his brow. What a shitshow. ¡°I can¡¯t believe that actually worked,¡± he said. ¡°Do you have any idea how dangerous that thing is?¡± She slowly nodded. There were two main reasons why Freddy couldn¡¯t get his hands on a captured life spark before meeting Sophia. The first was that, under ordinary circumstances, only four-star archhumans could create one. But there was another reason, too. It was because openly selling these things in a store was absolutely illegal. A captured life spark was, in essence, a pile of parasitic, flesh-devouring microorganisms that had a powerful symbiotic relationship between them due to the life spark they shared between them. Naturally, the life spark still needed to feed so the cells could stay alive. But as it fed, so did it proliferate, creating new batches of cells. However, not all these cells were perfectly integrated into a singular life spark, with a small number becoming more independent and some becoming more similar to cancer or scar tissue. This was why a captured life spark existed only for around half a year. That was how long it took, on average, for the singular life spark to fall apart into a bunch of smaller ones that devoured one another until there was nothing left. It didn¡¯t take a genius to deduce a rather important detail¡ªeating a captured life spark was really, really dangerous. Upon consuming a life spark, the microorganisms split up and entered the bloodstream. Having a body full of microscopic flesh-devourers was not the best for one¡¯s health. In fact, the survival rate for mortals was less than 1 percent, and for one-stars, it was only around 10 percent without treatment. Granted, with proper treatment, every archhuman could recover from this affliction, but that was only if they knew what was happening to them and sought the appropriate care on time. To put it simply, life sparks could be a potent bio-weapon that could cause massive damage if deployed by a malicious party looking to infect many people. And the piece of flesh sitting on the ground before their feet¡­ It was no ordinary captured life spark. Sophia had successfully fused the spark of undeath into a regular life spark, creating a captured spark of undeath¡ªpossibly the first time any human had created one. Even five-stars couldn¡¯t do what Sophia just did since, technically, a spark of undeath belonged to the death affinity and not the life affinity. However, the death affinity simply didn¡¯t have the power to manipulate life sparks¡ªeven if they were sparks of undeath¡ªcausing the feat to fall outside the purview of all known affinities. The implications of this thing¡¯s existence were numerous and highly problematic. First, what would happen if someone consumed such an object? Freddy knew that being undead would make these cells entirely immune to most common forms of treatment used to handle such a situation. But that wasn¡¯t the first thing on his mind. His gaze slowly moved to the spark and then back to Sophia. ¡°When you say you could make us immortal¡­ You aren¡¯t suggesting fusing this thing with our life sparks, are you?¡± She scratched her head. ¡°I was so excited that I could extract one that I hadn¡¯t thought about it¡­ but yes, that¡¯s my plan.¡± ¡°That¡¯s fucking insane,¡± he spat. ¡°I know,¡± she said, but she didn¡¯t seem apologetic. In fact, she turned around to face him with a grin. Her hand moved over to the spark of undeath, and almost like she was separating clay, she split the mass of meat into two pieces. ¡°I can make as many as I want, too.¡± ¡°You do realize that the thing you¡¯re holding in your hands,¡± Freddy started, ¡°is basically the equivalent of a super bio-weapon that could possibly be used to kill an unfathomable number of people?¡± She nodded. ¡°And you¡¯re okay with playing around with it?¡± ¡°Look,¡± she said, turning to face him. ¡°If I merge our life sparks with a spark of undeath, it should do the same thing that the Spark of Undeath tempering technique does.¡± ¡°It should?¡± he asked. ¡°Sure then, you go first.¡± She winced at that. ¡°What?¡± he asked again, chuckling. ¡°You aren¡¯t scared, are you? Of the possibility that something might go wrong?¡± he teased, snorting at her. To his absolute horror, her expression steeled into one of resolve as she pulled one of the sparks out of its ball of flesh and pushed it into her own body. ¡°Jesus Christ!¡± he screamed, leaping back, hearing his heart hammering away in his chest. For a long few moments, he simply watched as the woman¡¯s body started morphing. It changed bit by bit, her flesh wriggling and squirming as she stood mutely, her mouth too deformed to say anything. But then, a spark of life lit up within her body as she burned it to heal herself, and then another, and another, until finally¡ª Her body morphed back into the image of a young woman, no different than it had been before. He observed her, worried that the process might have destroyed her mind or driven her insane. A few seconds later, she opened her mouth and laughed. ¡°It worked!¡± she screamed. ¡°I¡¯m undead!¡± She cackled, ignoring that a pack of gorels might hear her. Freddy dropped his guard, but his apprehension didn¡¯t vanish. ¡°Well?¡± she said, smiling cheekily at him. ¡°What are you waiting for? Are you too proud to admit that you were wrong?¡± ¡°What are you suggesting?¡± he asked cautiously. She rolled her eyes. ¡°Come over here! I¡¯m gonna do the same thing to you!¡± If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. He scowled at that. ¡°Will the same thing that happened to you happen to me?¡± Cocking her head to the side, she frowned. ¡°I¡­ What do you mean?¡± ¡°Will I also start morphing like that?¡± ¡°Oh!¡± she exclaimed, realizing what he was getting at. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, boss!¡± She saluted him. ¡°I¡¯ll be on standby to heal you.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think that will be necessary,¡± he said. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re chickening out?¡± she asked incredulously. ¡°Come on, there is being a coward, then there¡¯s being a fool.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not what I meant.¡± He approached her and pulled the machete out of his storage ring. With a deft swing fueled by a flowing strike, he cleaved half his arm off and swung the blade at the nearby grass to stop the healing. ¡°Make my arm undead first, then stabilize it, and then fuse it with my body.¡± She clicked her tongue. ¡°I could have done the same thing! Why didn¡¯t you suggest that earlier?¡± He scoffed. ¡°You began the fusion before I could even start thinking about safer ways to do it, you idiot,¡± he reminded her. ¡°It¡¯s not my fault you have no instinct for self-preservation.¡± After a few more moments of frowning at him, she looked away in shame, realizing he was right. Over the next few minutes, she repeated the same process on his arm. It went the same way with her body, first morphing into an ungodly mass of wriggling flesh, then recovering as she used several life sparks to stabilize it. Once it did, she put his severed arm back in place and, with his consent, fused it back to his body. It was a sensation unlike anything he had ever felt. First, his arm felt utterly foreign, as if she was trying to fuse the limb of an entirely different species to his body. Then, a cold feeling invaded his body as warmth swelled in his arm. He felt a distinct firmness embed itself deep in his core. One would think that having their life force firmly attached to their body would give a sense of security and comfort. It didn¡¯t. It instead almost made him feel trapped within his own body. It was scary¡ªterrifying, even. But as the feeling faded, all that remained was a clear, distinct sensation that he felt with his entire being. ¡°I¡¯m undead,¡± he realized, suddenly aware of how Sophia was so certain that her experiment had succeeded. He could feel it, but it didn¡¯t feel how he thought it would. He had expected undeath to feel¡­ cold¡­ ghoulish¡­, and sickly, perhaps, like when she first initiated the fusing. But it felt secure. It was almost as if his life force was glued to his body, whereas it used to feel like water in a fragile container. ¡°Whoa,¡± he exhaled. Then, he lifted the machete and stabbed it right through his heart. It took a lot of force to push it through the layers of armor, but with his immense strength and Hydraulic Flex, he could just barely manage it. It startled Sophia slightly, but when she realized what he was doing, she calmed down and simply watched. Blood poured out of the massive wound like water out of a faucet, draining his entire body of nearly all the blood it had. But as the pressure dropped, he felt no urge to pass out. There was dizziness and an intense headache, sure, and the wound on his chest hurt like hell, but he didn¡¯t panic. The instinct that would be screaming at him just a few minutes prior was deathly silent as he stood with absolute certainty that the hole in his torso wouldn¡¯t kill him. And he was right. He pulled the machete out. The blood loss still made him feel a bit weak. Not that weak, but the feeling was still there. There was very little blood left in his body, but that wasn¡¯t a major concern as he could still move. For a mortal body, the lack of oxygen meant death. To an undead body, it just meant a moderate lack of energy. ¡°First self-recovery and unaging, then undying¡­ How much longer until I become completely invincible?¡± he jokingly asked, chuckling a bit. Then he looked over at Sophia. She stared at him with disgust. ¡°Ew, that¡¯s so cringy.¡± ¡°Pfft¡ª¡± he snorted. Then, he laughed. Throughout the next half-hour, the two of them discussed a few things. The most important thing they agreed upon was keeping their immortality an absolute secret. Neither of them had a death affinity, so walking around with undead bodies would be mighty suspicious. Everyone would want to know how they achieved this, and if a powerful faction caught wind of Sophia¡¯s talent, well¡­ anyone could guess how that would turn out. Freddy also asked her to give him one of the captured sparks of undeath. For pretty obvious reasons, he wanted to carry one in his storage ring. These things were far superior to ordinary life sparks; to him, they were a way to utilize his talent pretty much anywhere. A tiny, unhinged part of him wondered what would happen if he took a bite from one of these things. The fact that the answer was almost definitely ¡°a fate worse than death,¡± he would refrain from trying it out. Taking a deep breath, Freddy got up as he prepared to leave. Just as he was about to wave Sophia goodbye, he smiled at her instead. ¡°Hey¡­¡± he called, smiling a bit. ¡°Would you be interested in going out with me tonight?¡± ¡°Oooh, the hunk is shooting his shot, I see?¡± she proposed teasingly, but he waved her off. ¡°Don¡¯t flatter yourself, you maniac,¡± he said. ¡°I just thought it would be appropriate to celebrate a bit.¡± She raised an eyebrow. ¡°I¡¯m surprised. I thought you didn¡¯t want anything to do with me.¡± ¡°You aren¡¯t wrong.¡± He turned to face her. ¡°But we share a pretty big mutual secret,¡± he pointed out. ¡°I¡¯m gonna be honest¡ªI don¡¯t like you. You are immature, impulsive, and honestly, you¡¯re batshit insane. I have no intent to ever again put my life in danger by trusting you with our combined safety.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t get it.¡± She glared at him with slight hostility. ¡°So why even pretend this is anything but a mutually beneficial business relationship?¡± ¡°There is no pretending,¡± he declared. ¡°That¡¯s exactly what it is.¡± ¡°So what¡¯s with the invitation then?¡± she asked him, and before he could answer, she continued, ¡°Let me make something clear¡ªI don¡¯t really like you, either; what gives you the impression that I want to hang out?¡± ¡°Well, there you go,¡± he said, shifting his posture. ¡°If we can¡¯t tolerate one another, how long do you think our partnership will last?¡± For a long moment, she seemed to be contemplating. Then, she sighed and raised her head. ¡°Sure. Whatever,¡± she said. ¡°As long as you¡¯re treating, I guess I could make time for it.¡± He snorted. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have invited you if I expected you to pay, Miss Homeless.¡± She promptly threw a small chunk of flesh right at his face. He dodged. The two of them agreed to meet at 11 p.m. that night in front of the club he had gone to the last time. Freddy decided to head out immediately, while Sophia wanted to go try her new body out in action, so he left her to her crazy antics while he jumped over the boulder and made his way over to the paved road. Although he had the time and energy to go for a hunt, there were several things he wanted to do now that he had an undead body. For starters, the risk of dying from experimenting with his powers was almost entirely eliminated. Thousand Wet Hells and the scary bag of beast steroids in his storage ring immediately came to mind. But there was something he needed to remember¡ªhe wasn¡¯t immortal. Not truly. Severe damage to his brain would still kill him or perhaps leave permanent consequences, and he didn¡¯t know how much his talent could help him deal with that. Besides, if he was ever left in a mangled state where he couldn¡¯t move or get help, bacteria, bugs, and fungi would slowly devour his body, killing him eventually anyway. Honestly, he had been seduced by the power of an undead body and hadn¡¯t taken the time to properly consider his decision. But now that he was thinking straight, he knew that he would have decided to take it anyway. Undeath was the single most significant advantage of the death affinity, and it had just been served to him on a silver platter. Not to mention that his talent was a direct counter to the most prominent downside undeath had. He was all smiles and cheer as he practically skipped out of the realm. On his way back, he was assaulted by a group of three gorel workers, but dispatching them took almost no effort. He took a moment to hook the corpses to a rack, not bothering to put them in the plastic bags as he continued his journey. Within less than fifteen minutes, he returned to the passage and walked back into the lobby. As soon as he did, a muscular, tall man with long, blonde hair approached him and placed a hand on his shoulder. ¡°Hey there,¡± the man greeted him. ¡°You¡¯re Liam Cuttingsworth, right?¡± ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s¡ª¡± Freddy started but paused as he realized the man was referring to him by the name on his ID¡­ and not the pseudonym he was using. ¡°My name is Jacob Santorio. I¡¯d like to talk to you for a minute.¡± Chapter 73 - The Interview Although it hadn¡¯t been outside the realm of possibility, it had been far outside Freddy¡¯s expectations to find himself sitting beside Jacob Santorio, the son of the owner of the Santorio Training Center and the Santorio Hub. Despite his own intimidating size, he looked damn tiny next to the towering figure that was Jacob. The man must have been almost seven feet tall, and the sheer mass of muscle covering his body, dare he say, put even Mark Afronte to shame. On top of that, the man was a two-star well above his level, doing nothing to conceal his power. It was difficult to precisely evaluate those above oneself because of the suppression, but purely based on how suppressed he felt, the man must have been at around 50 to 70 percent along with his second star. It wasn¡¯t that far above his own level, but for someone like this, it was likely that the man had waited many years to ascend to his second star. His body alone was evidence of many years of intense training. Freddy was pretty nervous, and even though he was trying to hide it, it also became rather evident when placed next to the man who was sitting with his right arm leaning against the couch they were sitting at, his legs crossed while he smoked a massive Cuban cigar, flicking its ashes on the floor like he owned the place. Well, he did own the place, but still. His actions served as a rather poignant reminder, no doubt intentional. Eventually, almost precisely 15 minutes after sitting down, Jacob finally turned to him. ¡°You were given an invitation to an interview. It''s in two days. Are you coming?¡± the man asked. He showed no outward indication that the question bothered him, but he felt short on answers when confronted like this. By all means, he would prefer not to lose the right to delve here, or at least, he¡¯d want to avoid getting hit by a severe restriction. He could find another place to delve, but losing a hunting ground he was so familiar with was still a blow nonetheless. After thinking his answers through, he conjured one he was pretty satisfied with. ¡°I apologize. It¡¯s a tempting offer, but working with a party isn¡¯t my style.¡± ¡°You¡¯re confident,¡± the man noted. ¡°It¡¯s an interview, not an open invitation. What makes you so sure you¡¯ll pass?¡± ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter whether I pass or not,¡± he said, shifting his posture, ¡°when the reward is something I don¡¯t want to compete for.¡± ¡°And what if I threaten to ban you from delving here?¡± the man asked, flicking the cigar again. ¡°Does that make it worth your time?¡± He gritted his teeth. There were two big reasons he didn¡¯t want to go to the interview¡ªhis unique skill set and his stolen identity, both of which would likely be compromised when surrounded by people interested in knowing as much about him as possible. It also tied him to other people in a way that he didn¡¯t feel comfortable with, and if this was the person he would be working for, he had even less desire to join. ¡°And what exactly do you get from banning me?¡± He finally turned to face the man. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t make for a good team member, and as you said, I¡¯m not even guaranteed to pass.¡± ¡°Oh, I¡¯m not doing it to get something out of it,¡± the man declared, grinning ear to ear as he puffed the cigar. ¡°I¡¯m just an asshole.¡± Freddy scoffed. ¡°Charming.¡± ¡°Look, kid,¡± Jacob started. ¡°I don¡¯t like seeing pricks like you abusing the hard work my father puts into keeping things running. If you can¡¯t do us a simple favor, we can¡¯t do one for you, either.¡± ¡°Is taking 50 percent of all the profits I earn by risking my life not enough for you?¡± He snorted. ¡°Next time I pass out from exhaustion, maybe you should scam me harder.¡± Jacob showed no signs that the jab had gotten to him, instead taking another puff of the cigar. ¡°At any given time, two to three hundred people work to keep this passage safe enough to stay open. You are paying for their services.¡± ¡°Oh really?¡± He chuckled. ¡°If that¡¯s the case, tell me how much money actually goes to the workers.¡± ¡°They¡¯re paid what they earn,¡± Jacob said, flicking ash directly at Freddy¡¯s face. ¡°You know what?¡± He got up as he prepared to walk away. ¡°Your passage, your rules; do whatever you want. If you don¡¯t want me here, I¡¯ll move somewhere else.¡± ¡°I change my mind,¡± the man suddenly said, chuckling. ¡°I¡¯m not going to ban you.¡± Freddy¡¯s steps halted. He turned around. Jacob got up from the couch and approached him. ¡°I don¡¯t know what the fuck that bastard saw in you,¡± he said as he extinguished his cigar on Freddy¡¯s helmet. ¡°I take back my invitation.¡± The man walked past him, snickering. ¡°I don¡¯t want a coward like you by my side.¡± And with that, the man simply walked away, leaving him in a frustrated, dissatisfied silence. ¡°What a goddamn asshole.¡± *** On his way home, Freddy stopped by a butchery to buy a giant bag of unwanted meat waste. It was incredibly cheap. As soon as he returned to the apartment, he threw the bag of refuse on the ground, pulled out the captured spark of undeath, and placed it beside it. Then, he sat down and focused. He took several deep breaths to calm himself, and then he triggered Thousand Wet Hells. Pain shot through his entire body, so intense that he could barely stay conscious. Every time he used it, he felt a profound fear of death creep into his soul. Now that he had an undead body, he thought that would change. It didn¡¯t. Because the risk of death wasn¡¯t truly gone. Thousand Wet Hells was insanely powerful. So powerful that there was a genuine risk that using it could destroy a crucial part of his brain and leave him completely incapacitated. If that happened, there was a non-zero chance that he would¡­ simply die. Because who would heal him? Who would save him if he found himself in that situation? A thought appeared in the back of his mind. With a small burst of will, he released Bloodshed from its shell. The skeleton immediately knelt before him, leaving a giant bloody stain on the carpet. ¡°What do you need of me, My Liege?¡± He got up and brought a serrated kitchen knife, handing it to the small skeleton. ¡°Can you try swinging this at that blob of flesh?¡± he suggested. The skeleton nodded, taking a swing at the spark of undeath. The knife stabbed right into the spark, but nothing happened. He didn¡¯t feel his talent trigger from that. He sighed. It seemed that if he wanted the damage Bloodshed did to count as damage he was doing, he needed to summon it through Blood Sacrifice and not just release it from its shell. Speaking of Blood Sacrifice, he remembered something. A few days ago, he tried using the ability in combat, only to fail. Bloodshed whispered some cryptic bullshit into his ear, but he wanted a more detailed answer as to why he wasn¡¯t able to trigger the ability. ¡°Bloodshed,¡± he called. ¡°How much blood do I need to activate Blood Sacrifice?¡± He suspected that he couldn¡¯t use the ability because he didn¡¯t spill enough blood to trigger it. But¡ª ¡°Any amount would suffice,¡± the skeleton declared. He froze. ¡°What? Wait, so¡­ back when I was fighting those monsters, why couldn¡¯t I use the ability?¡± Bloodshed raised its head. ¡°Because there was no bloodshed.¡± Freddy scowled at that. ¡°Was that not a bloodshed?¡± Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. ¡°Not yet,¡± the skeleton answered. ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°Bloodshed only exists as a consequence of slaughter. It ripens when the slaughter ends.¡± He took a moment to consider its words. ¡°So... what you¡¯re saying is¡­ I have to stop fighting first to be able to use the ability?¡± The skeleton briefly appeared offended at the oversimplification, but Freddy¡¯s guess seemed to be close enough. ¡°That is correct.¡± ¡°Ouch. That really sucks. Can I just, like, pause the fight? Would that count?¡± The skeleton froze for a few moments but eventually nodded in confirmation. ¡°If you can disengage, yes, that would work.¡± That was¡­ better. But he wouldn¡¯t always have the luxury of disengaging during combat. Sighing, he looked at the skeleton. ¡°Bloodshed,¡± he called. But then, he paused. He wanted the skeleton to help him if he found himself in dire straits. But how? If his brain was damaged to the point where he couldn¡¯t wake up on his own, he would need external assistance if he wanted to get back up. In the worst-case scenario, he could genuinely just straight-up die. ¡°Okay, we¡¯re going to try something,¡± he said as he took the serrated knife and put it beside his body. Then, he lay on the ground next to it, posing as if he¡¯d fallen unconscious. ¡°Master¡­ what are you doing?¡± Bloodshed asked. ¡°Bloodshed, I need you to take the knife, put it in my hand, and then move my hand to stab this blob of flesh. Can you do that?¡± ¡°Anything you wish,¡± it said as it moved over to follow his instructions. It picked up the kitchen knife and placed it into his hand. Then, it proceeded to close his fingers one by one as he did his best to resist the urge to move on his own. For a brief moment, he was surprised at the spirit¡¯s strength. It was definitely stronger than an adult mortal man. But on second thought, that should come as no surprise. The skeleton was rather clumsy when it came to stuff like this, and it struggled mightily to lift his arm while holding the knife in place. After a few tries, it managed to do it, then dropped it down on the blob of flesh with the blade facing down. A tiny pulse of lifesteal coursed through his body, and he sighed in relief. It could take the skeleton a few hours of fumbling to heal him enough to wake up, but that was far superior to being left at the mercy of¡­ nobody, pretty much. Maybe the landlord would break the doors down after a few weeks, but he couldn¡¯t imagine anyone entering his apartment before that point. ¡°Thank you, Bloodshed.¡± He got back up. ¡°Please stay right beside me. If I pass out, do what you just did for as long as it takes for me to wake up.¡± Bloodshed nodded. He fed the spark of undeath a few chunks of skin, fat, and a large piece of bone as he placed it on his lap. Gripping the serrated knife, he prepared to start stabbing. Then, he triggered Thousand Wet Hells. A strangled groan escaped his lips as he frantically swung the knife, but after only two seconds of use, he failed to maintain it. It was still the longest he had managed to keep it active. Gulping for breath, he grabbed his head. A piercing headache threatened to blow his skull apart, but he endured as he healed himself back up and prepared to start again. Once more, he failed to last longer than two seconds. And again. And again. But each time he tried it, he managed to last a fraction of a second longer. But after the fifth try, he suddenly found himself unable to continue. ¡°What the fuck?¡± The ability refused to trigger. He dove into his ethercosm to take a look. The shell for Thousand Wet Hells had progressed by roughly 1%, increasing to 2% completion, and the turbulent vestige within rested idly. There seemed to be nothing wrong with it. But as he turned his focus on his star, he immediately discovered the problem. Are you kidding me? The dull shine of his stars noted that both of them were empty. He was entirely out of essence. At that moment, his maximum capacity was at 114%, having gone up by 3% after his risky encounter with the gorel horde. But still, after only around 10 to 12 seconds of use¡­ Thousand Wet Hells had drained every last bit of it. That meant that it consumed around 10% essence per second of use, making it easily the single most expensive ability he had, even compared to using Flowing Strike with both stars activated. He hadn¡¯t used the ability long enough to notice, but that was a massive problem. He gritted his teeth. If only he hadn¡¯t been so stupid with his upgrade choice. A sense of frustration overwhelmed him, but he refused to give up. He left the ethercosm and took a deep breath. Then, he dove into the Netherecho, harvesting wisps with his scythe until he regained enough essence to go again. The lack of wisps around him made it a long and frustrating process. It took him nearly twenty minutes to be able to go for just another few seconds, and by the time it was 10 p.m., he had only made another 2% progress with the tempering technique, reaching 4% completion. His entire body was sweaty, and his headache persisted even after fully healing himself. The bag of waste meat was empty, but the captured spark didn¡¯t grow even a tiny bit. He frowned. A similar thing had happened with the life spark Madame had given him. It did grow with time, but that didn¡¯t correlate to the amount of meat it was fed. Most of the mass seemed to vanish into thin air. The same thing seemed to be happening here, but the effect was far more pronounced. Whatever undeath did to the blob of flesh clearly prevented its ability to grow. The first thing that came to mind was that it usually likely grew through mitosis. Technically, the splitting of a cell could be seen as the death of one so that two could be born. Could undeath be preventing that from happening? At the very least, that heavily reduced the potential threat these things could pose to humans at large. A not necessarily great, but also not an insignificant burden lifted off his shoulders with that realization. Hurray for not being guilty of creating a pandemic that destroyed humanity. Taking a deep breath, he calmed himself. He had to get ready for his night out. He had honestly thought that, with all that had happened, he wouldn¡¯t be in the mood to leave his apartment, but if anything, the opposite seemed true. He had a burning desire to get out there and have some fun, to get his mind off everything, and to celebrate his successes. It didn¡¯t take him long to get ready. Within half an hour, he was out on the street, walking to the place he had agreed to meet with Sophia. For a moment, he nearly walked right past her. Then, the beautiful woman wearing a red dress, whom he had been trying not to stare at, waved at him. ¡°Uhm¡­? Hello? Earth calling Liam?¡± He paused and turned to face her. ¡°Wow,¡± he said, sneering at her. ¡°You look so civilized I almost didn¡¯t recognize you.¡± She snorted. ¡°Ha, ha.¡± Then, she approached him. She was much shorter than he was, even with stilettos, and with his bulky physique, she looked like a kid next to him. The two of them waited in line, and he was amused by the strange looks people gave him. He jokingly patted her head. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, kid, we¡¯ll find your parents in no time at all!¡± She lifted her head and bit his hand full force, holding nothing back. Unfortunately for her, that did pretty much nothing. The skin on hands was tougher than tanned leather. This time, he had stepped into the two-star waiting line, where the wait was far shorter. It took less than a minute to reach the end. He got two stamps, while Sophia, as a one-star, got only one. She seemed pretty comfortable in the club, showing no signs of being out of her element. They walked around for a while, with Sophia seemingly looking for a spot they could take. It was Friday night, so the club was packed. They hadn¡¯t arrived late by any means, but most people seemed to have come early to make sure they had a spot, leaving only a few shitty tables open all the way in the back close to where the toilets were. Any other night, he would have just shrugged it off and tolerated it, but on that day? He didn¡¯t feel like letting himself be shoved to the back. The waiter eventually reached them. Freddy raised his hand to show the two stamps on it. ¡°Are any of the VIP lounges open?¡± he asked. ¡°There is one left,¡± the waiter said. ¡°But you will have to pay in advance. Is that all right?¡± ¡°Got my card right here,¡± he said with a shit-eating grin. For a long moment, he thought that Sophia would criticize him for throwing his money away like that. But she seemed impressed instead. ¡°Wow, I didn¡¯t think you¡¯d have the balls to spend that much money on a night out.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t know shit about me,¡± he said. ¡°Come on, let¡¯s go.¡± Sophia raised her arms. ¡°Okay, wow. Hurt your ego?¡± ¡°Someone wants to lose their VIP lounge privileges, I see?¡± She mimed zipping her mouth shut, and quickly saluted him. ¡°No, sir.¡± ¡°Didn¡¯t you just zip your mouth shut?¡± ¡°Oh, right.¡± She closed her mouth. Then she muttered something completely unintelligible with her lips closed. It was probably ¡°No sir.¡± He chuckled at that and shook his head. Freddy had expected that the VIP section would be in a private corner. But no. It was actually those flashy seats smack dab in the middle of the club. Well, it made sense that those who would spend ridiculous sums of money on vanity like this would want it to be somewhere where they could flex their wealth as hard as humanly possible. He knew that he preferred it this way. The VIP lounges were separated by small walls and placed around a massive circle in the middle of the club. The bar was inside this circular formation, and there were small windows, although they were slammed shut. He saw one of those windows open as a medium-sized tray floated through it and landed on the table in the middle of the lounge to the right of where they would be sitting. The assortment of drinks and the artistic way they were arranged beside artisan glasses attracted his attention, and he failed to look at who was sitting at the table. His gaze slowly drifted to the image of a massive blonde man. He immediately recognized this man as Jacob Santorio, but that was hardly worthy of his attention. Instead, the people he looked at were the man and woman engaged in a fierce fight, standing just outside the lounge and arguing. They noticed him when he got close enough. And judging by the horror-stricken gaze Theodore and Beatrice gave him¡­ he had a pretty good guess what they were fighting about. Oh fuck my life. Chapter 74 - Sabotage Freddy sat in the private booth, his face buried in his hands, as Sophia hollered beside him, laughing so hard she could barely breathe. ¡°You¡­ You¡­¡± she muttered. ¡°You dog!¡± she accused, but her amusement at the situation remained clear as day. She took a sip of the drink and let out a small moan of pleasure as she giggled again, nearly spitting her drink as she forced herself to gulp it down. He honestly didn¡¯t know why he had told her about what he¡¯d done. Yes, she had pestered him for roughly half an hour, refusing to drop the subject until he spilled the tea, but he was still surprised that he¡¯d actually caved and shared his tale of borderline adultery. ¡°Can we please drop the subject?¡± he begged. ¡°You¡¯ve sated your curiosity; now either shut up, or I''ll kick you out.¡± ¡°Okay, okay,¡± she said. ¡°Just one more time¡ªbahahahahaha!¡± He flicked her forehead, and she reeled back. ¡°Ow!¡± she yelped. ¡°That frickin¡¯ hurts!¡± ¡°You think I could time a Flowing Strike with a flick?¡± he threatened. ¡°Do you want me to find out?¡± ¡°Okay, I get it, geez.¡± Sophia took another gulp of the drink. ¡°So¡­ Do you just plan to sit here alone all night?¡± ¡°What?¡± He scoffed. ¡°Does your company not count?¡± ¡°Really?¡± She raised an eyebrow. ¡°You seriously spent this much money just to what, treat me? Do you have a secret crush on me?¡± she asked teasingly. He rolled his eyes. ¡°My plan was to find some people to join us, preferably cute girls.¡± She grinned ear to ear. ¡°Well, what happened, big guy?¡± His hand reached for the glass of fancy champagne, and he gulped it down in one swing, shuddering as it went down. ¡°I don¡¯t feel like it anymore.¡± She snorted a bit, but her amused smile vanished as she nodded. ¡°Yeah. I get that.¡± She took a sip and put her glass down. ¡°Were you friends with the guy?¡± ¡°Who? Theodore?¡± he asked. Then, he shook his head. ¡°Hell no.¡± She stared at him with a discerning gaze. ¡°But it still bothers you, doesn¡¯t it?¡± Sighing, he poured himself another glass. ¡°I¡¯ve accidentally hurt many people in my life.¡± He downed the entire glass in one gulp again and immediately poured himself another. ¡°Every time, I had an excuse.¡± He downed the glass again. ¡°They hurt me first. I had no choice. I didn¡¯t mean to do it.¡± He chugged again. ¡°Even this time, I have as many excuses as I need. But that doesn¡¯t change the fact that I fucked up again. Now I can only hope that it doesn¡¯t get any worse.¡± He tried drinking again, but¡ª Sophia¡¯s hand firmly gripped his wrist, making him stop. She was leaning forward, her blonde hair covering her eyes. ¡°Don¡¯t,¡± she said softly. He tore his arm out of her grip and down the glass. He put it back on the table as he shot her a grin that didn¡¯t reach his eyes. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine. Don¡¯t pretend like you care.¡± The two of them sat there in silence. His eyes scanned the dancing crowds, watching the mass of people having fun and enjoying themselves. The lights flickered through the dance floor, and the music filled his ears, deafening even his thoughts but doing nothing to lighten his sour mood. Why did it bother him so much? He wondered. Relatively speaking, it was a minor thing. True, he might have just ruined the odds that those two would ever be together again, but everyone involved was still alive. Besides, he didn¡¯t even remember what happened. It could have very well been her fault more than his. What bothered him, he supposed, was not being in control of the situation. Perhaps it wasn¡¯t even about the aftermath¡ªmaybe it was simply the fact that he decided to get blackout drunk. The glass he was just about to take a sip from touched his lip. He pulled it back and placed it on the table, shooting Sophia a quick glance. Eventually, he opened his mouth. ¡°Do you feel guilty about nearly getting me killed?¡± he asked. She appeared frustrated at the inquiry, so he disclosed, ¡°Don¡¯t misunderstand,¡± he said, sighing. ¡°I¡¯m just curious.¡± After a long moment of silence, she answered the question, ¡°Not exactly guilty, no¡­¡± she said. ¡°But¡­ I do acknowledge that mistakes were made,¡± she slowly uttered the words, almost as if the statement physically pained her. ¡°And I resolve not to put myself or others in a situation like that again. Do I pass the test, professor?¡± He scoffed. ¡°And what would you feel like if I had died in that situation?¡± ¡°Oh, please,¡± she said. ¡°It didn¡¯t come to that, so why does it matter?¡± ¡°Just humor me for a bit, will you?¡± She groaned. ¡°Yes, obviously, I would feel guilty.¡± Yet another bout of silence descended between them. As the minutes passed, nobody even offered to join them. The unpleasant atmosphere between them was quite obvious to anyone who took as much as a glance. Rather than allow the mood to get any more sour, he resolved to change the subject. They had come there to get to know each other better, didn¡¯t they? Naturally, he would not be telling her particularly specific details about himself, but still, even something vague, like whether they liked cats or dogs, was vastly preferable over the suffocating silence. ¡°Okay.¡± He clapped his hands and rubbed his palms. ¡°Come on, enough of this, let¡¯s talk about something.¡± ¡°All right¡­ What would thou wisheth to talk about, sire?¡± she replied sarcastically. ¡°Tell me something about yourself,¡± he said. ¡°Hnngh,¡± she groaned. ¡°Do I have to?¡± ¡°Come on.¡± ¡°How about you go, first?¡± He snapped his fingers into finger-guns and pointed them at her. ¡°Okay, sure, sure, uh¡­ You know what, how about this: ask me something specific.¡± Even without sharing his real life story, he had memorized the whole biography of Liam Cuttingsworth, the man whose identity he had taken. Although it made him feel just a bit guilty, he had no qualms about borrowing some details from those documents. ¡°Okay, sure¡­ Uhm¡­ Hmm. Give me a moment to think.¡± She cupped her chin and narrowed her eyes as her brow danced along with her inner contemplation. ¡°Oh, okay, I got a good one; why are you so afraid all the time?¡± He froze at the question. ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°Well¡­ When you first met me, you jumped back like you saw the devil. Then there is your obsession with keeping everything a secret. Hell, you even blocked your frickin¡¯ bedroom door with your nightstand to¡­ what¡­ stop me from killing you in your sleep?¡± ¡°Those are pretty rational things to be afraid of, thank you very much.¡± ¡°Oh really?¡± She side-eyed him. ¡°Come on, at least admit that the nightstand was a little paranoid.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know about you, but I¡¯ve seen the world for what it is, Sophia,¡± he said. ¡°The world is a terrible place of horrible people itching to make it even fucking worse. So yeah, that¡¯s why I¡¯m afraid. I¡¯ve been on the other side of that equation. You wonder why I¡¯m cautious around you? Because I don¡¯t know who the fuck you are.¡± He grabbed the glass again and took a sip. ¡°Okay, my turn to ask a question. Who the hell are you?¡± Her eyes met his for a long moment. ¡°Ask me something else.¡± ¡°No,¡± he refused. ¡°Either tell me or get the hell out of my sight.¡± For some reason, it almost sounded like the music grew louder at that moment. The air became more suffocating, the crowds more deafening, and the lights blared brighter. After a few long seconds of staring, she smiled a smile that did not reach her eyes. ¡°Okay.¡± Then, she got up and walked away. He watched her figure slowly move out of sight, blending into the crowds and vanishing. He bit his knuckles and threw the glass in his hand to the floor. ¡°Why am I afraid, huh?¡± he chuckled. ¡°Spoiled brat.¡± This whole idea suddenly felt so stupid. Why was he trying to keep her close? Why did he bother with trying to, what, forge a connection? Build rapport? He saved her from dying a horrible death and she gave him a captured spark of undeath. He didn¡¯t need her any longer and she didn¡¯t need him. For a brief moment, he worried that she would get herself in trouble, and by proxy, get him in trouble as well. As soon as he realized he had the thought, he barely resisted the urge to kick the table over. She wasn¡¯t wrong. And he hated that. He hated living in a world where he needed to be so paranoid. Where he needed to be so cautious and calculating. Take a wrong turn and he was suddenly a survivor of a monster invasion. Sign the wrong contract and he was suddenly a liability. Own the wrong thing and he was suddenly a thief. Make one wrong move and he¡¯s suddenly either a dead man or a murderer. He finally realized why the thing with Beatrice bothered him so much. He had made Theodore an enemy. And Theodore was friends with Jacob, who had shown himself more than willing to abuse his power to make Freddy¡¯s life difficult. That was the kind of world he lived in. A world where, without the power to back it up, any, even the tiniest mistake, was enough for a minor issue to escalate into serious trouble. If he couldn¡¯t even go out for drinks without having to worry, then¡­ ¡°What exactly am I working towards?¡± Total invincibility? Absolute power? And what until he reached that point? Was he always going to be scared? ¡­ Was he always going to be paranoid? A couple of girls walked up to his table. ¡°Hey,¡± one of them called. ¡°Do you mind if we join you?¡± she asked, yelling over the loud music. ¡°Feel free to sit down,¡± he said, getting up and leaving the club. He then went home, took a shower, had a snack, and went to sleep. *** Over the next few days, Freddy focused on earning as much money as he could while spending each free second on training. A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. He pushed back his library and gym visits while focusing on growing his abilities. The day of the interview came and went, with nobody looking for him or telling him anything. Sophia seemed to be avoiding him whenever he came across her in the hub. Good. The world seemed to have finally left him alone for the most part. At least for the time being. Still, he was already making concrete plans to move to another hub. He even had a target in mind and was already studying up on the details surrounding it. Things were, at least on the surface, looking all right. Yet he felt more bothered than he had for a long, long time. A constant sense of¡­ emptiness permeated his body, and no matter how hard he worked to distract himself, as soon as the next quiet, lonely moment arrived, he sank into the same pit of despair. A week passed, and he sat in the lobby of the Santorio hub, watching the crowds pass by as he casually sipped on a coffee. He wasn¡¯t wearing his helmet, and, as he probably should have expected¡­ nobody cared. He was reading a magazine on famous archhumans. Some of those people had talents, even as one-stars, that would obliterate him before he could even think about fighting back. Instant Teleportation, Holy Sword, Telekinesis, hell, there was a guy whose talent allowed him to create semi-sentient metal golems that could independently grow in power over time. He couldn¡¯t help but feel infinitely bitter at this. Would he ever stand a chance against someone like that? No, but really? It was a power that felt like it existed in a separate world from his own, like something he¡¯d hear about in an ancient myth and not read in a fucking newspaper. Even with the strange, unique abilities in his soul, he just couldn¡¯t compete with the true elites of society. That thought made him more and more uneasy with every passing day. He closed the papers he was reading with an angry slam and threw them on the table, pulling his notebook out of the backpack instead. Only one thing consistently improved his mood¡ªtracking his progress. Fantasizing about the peak of power was one thing, but even if he wasn¡¯t the most powerful person in the world, the stronger he was, the more freedom he had. GATHERING: Second star¡ª116% Essence capacity TALENT: 1% Lifesteal: Dynamic-quality healing SOUL CONSTRUCT: Scythe: Essence Extraction TEMPERING TECHNIQUES: Blood affinity: Pool of Blood: Stage 1¡ª57% Progress Crimson Mercury: Stage 0¡ª98% Progress Water affinity: Adaptive Water Body: Stage 1¡ªComplete Thousand Wet Hells: Stage 1¡ª13% Progress Abyssal Depths: Stage 1¡ª23% Progress ACTIVE ABILITIES: Blood affinity: Gore Knuckles: Stage 0¡ª95% Progress Water affinity: Flowing Strike: Stage 1¡ª24% Progress Hydraulic Flex: Stage 1¡ª7% Progress Create Water: Stage 1¡ª23% Progress Pressure Jet: Unfinished ether shell Perished water affinity: Perished Water: Stage ?¡ª? Progress That Other Ability: No clue UNIQUE ABILITIES: Blood Sacrifice: Stage ? Leviathan¡¯s Fury: Stage ? UNIQUE CURSED ITEMS: Blood Ring: -4% essence cost, +3% power for blood-affinity abilities. Can be used to release Bloodshed. CURSED ITEMS: Dagger of Bleeding: Melee attacks cause extra bleeding He was focusing most of his effort on growing Thousand Wet Hells, Gore Knuckles, Pool of Blood, and Crimson Mercury, so those were seeing the most significant growth. Although Thousand Wet Hells appeared to be progressing painfully slowly and was only getting slower with time, its effect on his toughness was already quite noticeable, even at 13% completion of stage 1. It made sense, too. With this ability, he had created something that, under most circumstances, couldn¡¯t even be used by ordinary humans. Needless to say, it was unsurprising that it had such an enormous impact. His Gore Knuckles were still pretty brittle, and whenever he used them against gorels, they cracked apart like fragile stone. This wasn¡¯t unexpected, given that he hadn¡¯t yet upgraded either Gore Knuckles or Crimson Mercury. Once he upgraded both the tempering technique and the ability, the spikes should have the properties of wrought iron. That still wasn¡¯t the toughest substance in the world, but it would be a great improvement on the near-useless trash it was at the moment. Create Water and Abyssal Depths had grown far less than they could have, but that was mostly because he was investing little to no effort into developing them. And finally, to his surprise, the unique ring had grown in potency. It had taken so long that he had started to suspect that it would take forever to grow in power, so it was a pleasant surprise. Frankly, he had severely underestimated the value this ring provided. The power boost, although seemingly relatively small, actually worked to help grow his abilities a lot faster, and the essence cost reduction allowed him to work more on his abilities, compounding into extra growth with time. The item''s value would grow exponentially with each additional percent in either the cost reduction or power. Then, there was his star, sitting at 116% Essence Capacity. He had to admit he was severely disappointed with the speed of his growth. But he could at least sort of understand why it was taking so long. First, he had 0 access to any kind of growth treasure. If he tried buying some to use semi-regularly, he would rapidly exhaust his savings, even with how much money he was earning. He also didn¡¯t have access to a proper gathering ground. Moreover, whenever he gathered, he mostly focused on replenishing his essence rather than pushing his star forward. Perhaps most importantly, he was just not achieving much of note. The gorel pit incident, true, had pushed him a bit, but other than that, he was just picking low-hanging fruit, grinding out the powers that were simply waiting for him to invest some time into them. Sighing, he put his notebook back, overall pleased with his progress. He continued sipping on his coffee as he watched the people walking by. Before long, he spotted Sophia. She avoided looking at him as she hurried along, rushing into the passage. He scoffed at that. Not too long after, he spotted another person. It was Theodore, walking side by side with four other individuals. Every single one of them carried equipment that likely cost millions of dollars. Their weapons alone looked like their price was in the seven digits. The first among them was Jacob, the blonde giant of a man, wearing light armor that revealed a good part of his body. Was the man a fire-affinity arch? Come to think of it, Freddy had no idea what the man¡¯s powers were about, but he had presumed that the man fought in melee. No weapon was strapped to his side, but the fingerless gloves he wore looked made of exquisitely fine, silver metallic scales, likely indicating that the man was either a caster or perhaps a brawler. Maybe a mix of both. The second was Phillip, the Asian man who approached him to ask about Sophia. He was surprised to see the man in the group, but it made sense that he would have ties to the administration if he was in the same party as Jacob. The man wore full plate armor, with a helmet hanging on his back, and he carried a large shield with a shortsword strapped to his waist. He didn¡¯t recognize the final two¡ªa short, Black woman with curly hair tied in a practical ponytail clad in what appeared to be pearly white martial arts robes, and a slightly taller Caucasian, brunette woman wearing pitch-black leather armor. Both women carried blades, with the woman in white robes carrying a curved saber and the woman in black holding a sheathed dagger. As for Theodore, the man seemed to have upgraded his style considerably. He used to carry a dagger by his side, but now, he seemed to have shifted to using an elegant shortsword instead, upgrading his light armor to one that provided medium protection. Nobody from the group even glanced at him¡ªnot the three strangers, not Jacob, not Theodore. The latter two were probably ignoring him, but to the first three, he was an absolute nobody. He felt frustrated. He didn¡¯t believe that his reasons for avoiding the interview were just excuses, but he would have been afraid to attend the interview even if those reasons hadn''t been there. He was afraid of failing. He wanted to believe that he was at least becoming someone special and was deathly afraid of having that perception shattered. The day he tested himself against a serious challenge, he wanted to be ready. He wanted to have no excuses. He wanted to be prepared¡ªboth to succeed¡­ and to fail. Taking a deep, shivering breath, he down the last drop of his beverage. He let a few more minutes pass, and then, he walked down into the passage, entering the realm. It was daytime, so very few people were waiting in the lobby. When he first arrived, the realm was still in turmoil after the last Crimson Twilight. But ever since, the gorel hives had stabilized, making the realm safer to delve into as the delvers finally managed to track the queen cycles. He walked inside and swallowed one of the perception-boosting pills. They did little to boost his perception anymore, as he seemed to have built a lot of resistance to them. But in return, his perception was considerably sharper even when he wasn¡¯t consuming them. There were still nearly 80 of them left in his ring, and he contemplated selling them for extra cash, as he had mostly gotten his use from them and saw more value in freeing up some space in the storage. He also still had three other medicines in his ring that he had no clue about, and he planned to get them appraised soon. He proceeded down one of the paths he had been frequenting as of late. It was a relatively obscure hunting spot between two smaller hives. Reaching it was a pain in the ass as there were no carved paths leading to the section, and that was precisely why he liked going there. Nobody wanted to haul the bodies over tall, unstable boulders. Thus, nobody would bother him while hunting. Before long, he tracked down three gorel guards scouting the area. At that point, dealing with these things had become trivial. They were highly predictable, and their behavior rarely varied. Each time he approached one, it would hiss and growl once it spotted him, rushing at him and trying to tear him apart. They did nothing to parry or brace themselves against attacks, primarily relying on their bulky physique and wild swings to break their opponents¡¯ defense. All he really needed was one well-aimed attack to end them. Moments later, he had three dead gorel guards at his feet, and his Gore Knuckles were thoroughly shattered. He recreated them with a small burst of essence, marveling at how little reconstructing his weapons cost. They weren¡¯t just cheap essence-wise; due to their construction as relatively thin spikes, they didn¡¯t really consume much blood, either. With his Pool of Blood at 57% Progress and his undead body, he didn¡¯t have to worry about running out of blood. Once the Gore Knuckles stopped breaking so frequently, he would have quite a bit of extra blood, and he wondered what other abilities to develop to use his reserves. Mentally, he was still toying with the idea of creating throwing javelins or spears for a more reliable form of ranged attack, but learning how to use them properly might turn out to be tricky. Swiftly racking the corpses, he made his way back to the lobby. Once he arrived at the passage, he discovered something he didn¡¯t expect to see there. A few parties were standing outside the massive passage, arguing about what was happening. For some reason, a blurry barrier of sorts, looking almost like opaque glass, blocked entry back into the lobby. He approached the group of people. ¡°Hey,¡± he called. ¡°Can someone tell me what¡¯s happening here?¡± ¡°You tell us,¡± a lanky man said. "We came back and found this thing here around ten minutes ago. I say it''s probably maintenance-related.¡± ¡°You dumb fuck!¡± a short, ginger man swore. ¡°Why would they block us off for that?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know!¡± the man retorted. ¡°Why would anyone?¡± ¡°Can you please step aside?¡± Freddy asked. The men complied, moving so he could approach. He placed the racked gorel corpses on the ground nearby and struck the barrier with his fist without using any abilities. It didn¡¯t feel tough per se, but the barrier had clearly absorbed the force of the impact. He pulled his hand back and tried using a Flowing Strike. The impact landed with near-perfect timing, but the barrier didn¡¯t even shimmer. ¡°Okay¡­¡± he said, warming his shoulders up. Gore Knuckles appeared on his fists as he activated both stars and landed another strike. The red spikes shattered into bits, and the barrier shimmered a bit, undulating like the surface of a lake someone had dropped a stone into. The effect only lasted a few moments before it calmed again, looking as if nothing had changed. Freddy felt a much lesser impact on his arm, courtesy of his growing Thousand Wet Hells, but he had no time to admire his growth. For some reason, someone had blocked the passage. Stuff like this did happen occasionally with public passages, and almost every single time, the cause was the same¡ªsabotage. As long as it was closed, the Santorio Hub would lose money. Sighing, he picked up the racked corpses and moved to a nearby boulder, sitting down on it. What should I do now? It could take a while for someone to crack the barrier open. The associated risk would hardly be worth it unless someone could keep the passage closed for at least a few days. He could just wait around, but that seemed like a waste of time. If he was already trapped, he might as well use the opportunity to train in the passage. He caught the image of a blonde-haired woman from the corner of his eye and turned to spot Sophia carrying a gorel corpse on her back. She suddenly dropped it as she just stood, staring at the passage. Hmmm? Her reaction was a bit strange. Could it be that she was scared? He nearly snorted at the thought, but she really did seem to be afraid, and not just a little. Whatever, he thought as he turned his head away. He couldn¡¯t stop himself from glancing at her a few seconds later. Her reaction was getting weirder. Her nostrils flared as she breathed rapidly, and her eyes were wide open, with her mouth slightly agape. He scowled. Did she know something about this? Usually, he¡¯d take that as a sign that he shouldn¡¯t get involved, but for some reason, something about her reaction was triggering alarms in his head. Fuck it. He got up and slowly walked towards her. Once he stepped within a few meters, the woman turned to face him briefly, then looked at the opaque barrier again. ¡°Hey there,¡± he greeted awkwardly. ¡°Liam,¡± she called. ¡°We have to run.¡± He scowled. ¡°Do you know something about that barrier?¡± ¡°Just¡­ Go and hide somewhere, okay?¡± She turned around to leave, but he grasped her by her wrist. ¡°Let me go!¡± she yelled. ¡°Okay, first of all, calm down,¡± he said. ¡°No!¡± she screamed. ¡°Let me go!¡± ¡°Tell me what¡¯s happening!¡± he demanded. ¡°Do you know what that is?¡± ¡°Liam, listen to me,¡± she said, staring at him with a crazed gaze. ¡°That barrier won¡¯t go down for at least another three months, and by the time it does, this whole realm will be swarming with monsters!¡± He scowled. ¡°What?¡± ¡°That¡¯s going to create an artificial break! Liam¡­ listen to me¡­ ¡°We¡¯re in the middle of a terrorist attack.¡± Chapter 75 - Sophia Summer Freddy followed Sophia through the woods. They moved cautiously as they slowly approached the outer edge of the passage realm. Frankly, he didn¡¯t want to follow her, but she clearly knew more than she had shared. He wanted to know what was happening. ¡°Where the hell are you going?¡± he asked her in an angry whisper. ¡°The outer edge,¡± she whispered back. ¡°And what are you gonna do there?¡± She didn¡¯t look back at him, but she did slow down a bit. ¡°I¡¯m gonna bury myself in the ground.¡± ¡°What?¡± he spewed but¡ª ¡°Shhh,¡± she hushed him. It was still daytime, so they had a clear view of their surroundings, but she acted as if she was expecting danger to jump at them at any moment. Anger bubbled in the depths of his gut. With each second that passed, he felt more and more ready to break off and stop following her, but through sheer stubbornness, he kept following her while thinking up ways to convince her to speak. The outer edge was quite far, and combined with Sophia¡¯s sudden hyper-vigilance, it took them a while to reach her destination. They left the woods and entered a clearing void of all growth, right beside the massive, jagged cliffs surrounding the passage realm''s outer perimeter. All that stood below their feet was dead, dry soil. ¡°All right,¡± she said as he pulled a small knife from her dimension ring. Then, she knelt and dug into the ground, using the dagger as an improvised trowel. He stood to the side, watching. Eventually, she paused. She took a deep breath and aggressively rubbed her face. ¡°You think I¡¯m insane, don¡¯t you?¡± she asked him. ¡°I know you¡¯re insane,¡± he corrected her. ¡°I just want to know what you¡¯re hiding,¡± he said, remaining upright as he squinted down at her. ¡°Are you gonna leave me alone if I tell you?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± The day suddenly blinked out, and night descended on the realm. Both of them merely glanced at the sky, already used to dealing with this phenomenon, having seen it happen quite a few times. She suddenly started chuckling. A mixture of laughter and disbelief rang through her body as she looked around. Then, tears began streaming down her face. ¡°Why?¡± she said, gulping and sniffling as she sobbed. ¡°Why did they have to come here?¡± Why did who have to come here? He watched the woman sob her heart out in the darkness for a long few minutes. Then, she picked up the dagger and continued digging. But it didn¡¯t take long for her to stop again. ¡°You asked me about who I was.¡± She turned to face him. ¡°Do you really want to know?¡± ¡°Is it related to what¡¯s happening?¡± She nodded. ¡°Is knowing going to help me?¡± She paused at that. ¡°At the very least¡­ you¡¯ll know just how bad the situation really is.¡± The darkness around them suddenly felt stifling, and Freddy felt a chill move down his spine. He took a breath to calm himself. ¡°Tell me. I want to know.¡± ¡°I¡­¡± she started, swallowing heavily. ¡°I grew up in a cult.¡± His eyebrows jumped. That was¡­ not exactly what he was expecting to hear. It suddenly clicked. ¡°They¡¯re the ones behind this attack.¡± She reluctantly nodded. ¡°Yes. I recognize that barrier.¡± He felt a bit of anger bubble in the back of his mind. ¡°Did you know that they would do this?¡± She stared at the ground for a few seconds. ¡°No,¡± she said. ¡°If I had known they would come here, I¡­ I¡­¡± A few long moments of silence passed. Then, he sighed and walked over, kneeling beside her as he took out his own hunting knife and started digging. ¡°What are you doing?¡± she asked him. ¡°What does it look like?¡± he asked. ¡°I¡¯m digging a hole to bury myself.¡± She stared at him, her mouth quivering slightly. ¡°Do you¡ª¡± ¡°Do I what!?¡± he spat angrily. ¡°Do I trust you? No, I don¡¯t fucking trust you!¡± He angrily threw the dagger into the ground, where it bounced off and skittered across the dry soil. ¡°Give me one goddamn reason to believe you aren¡¯t a part of whatever is happening.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t want to be,¡± she said, her expression hard to see in the dark. ¡°I would rather be anywhere else right now, Liam.¡± A shiver crawled into her voice. ¡°I would rather be dead.¡± He froze at those words, and suddenly, he felt his anger deflate slightly. He was scared. He was so damn scared. But¡­ so was she. He could tell better than anyone just how dense the terror in those words was. As he looked upon her, the weight of how foreign she was was like a wet blanket pressing against his back. This was a stranger. Someone he truly knew nothing about. Why would he hear her out? Why would he give her a chance? He¡¯d done it once already, which might have very well been the exact reason he was in this situation, to begin with. Maybe if I had killed her back then¡­ he thought, remembering the moment after she dragged him out of the ravine. Just adding a Flowing Strike to his punch would have been enough. Darkness descended on him, and he found himself biting the inside of his cheek. ¡°If you don¡¯t want to hear me out,¡± Sophia said, ¡°I understand.¡± She picked up her dagger again and continued digging. The sound of her blade scraping the ground in the darkness was like a fork scratching a plate in his ears. ¡°Are you trying to spite me?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not doing anything,¡± she said, whimpering. ¡°You won¡¯t believe anything I say. And if I¡¯m being honest, I don¡¯t want to end up being one of your ¡®mistakes.¡¯¡± Those words were like a stab to his stomach. He gritted his jaw so hard that he heard a tooth crack, sending a wild pang of pain down his jaw. His fingers twitched as he felt the urge to pull his hand back and swing at her. He felt the urge to get violent. ¡°Go on then,¡± he said, burying his fingers into the earth instead. ¡°I¡¯m listening.¡± She stopped digging. For a long minute, the two of them did nothing but stay as they were, both simmering. But the darkness of the false night swallowed it all up. The danger encroaching upon them took precedence. ¡°I have lived as a pawn for my whole life,¡± she said. ¡°I don¡¯t even know who my parents are.¡± ¡°Me neither; you aren¡¯t special.¡± She shot him a stern glare he could feel even through the darkness. ¡°What?¡± he spat. ¡°I never said I¡¯d keep quiet.¡± She met his gaze for a long moment, then shook her head and continued. ¡°Remember when I said I¡¯ve been training in martial arts for 15 years?¡± she asked. ¡°That was a lie. But you probably wouldn¡¯t have believed me if I told you I started 30 years ago.¡± ¡°Thirty years ago, wow,¡± he commented snarkily. ¡°Must have been one hell of a rich kid.¡± ¡°There is no wealth in the cult,¡± she said. ¡°Ah, so everyone is equal then?¡± ¡°Not at all,¡± she said, a hint of trepidation and anger playing in her voice. ¡°But at the very least, everyone has the same starting point.¡± He wanted to make another snide comment, but he could tell that if he opened his mouth again, she probably wouldn¡¯t continue her explanation. Snorting, he looked away. After a few tense moments of silence, she continued, ¡°My life started as that of a child soldier. The cult simply referred to us as ¡®Children,¡¯ even though some of us were in our forties. They trained us to the bone from the moment we could walk, and once a Child became skilled enough, they were sent to fight monsters. None of us were archhumans. All we had was a single weapon of choice. The monsters were on the weaker side, but that didn¡¯t make the occasional deviant any less lethal. This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it ¡°Only once a year would the strongest member of the Children be allowed to accept a prime and ascend into an archhuman, and then they would be allowed to join the cult as an elite member. Anyone who failed to make it by 40 years old became a Servant. If anyone manifested a prime or acquired one by killing a deviant, they weren¡¯t allowed to take it and had to surrender it to the cult. ¡°I manifested a prime vestige four times during my life as a Child, and I got one from killing a deviant fifteen times. And every single time, I had to give it away.¡± Freddy simply stared at her. For a long moment, he wanted to call bullshit. It sounded too sappy, too tragic. It was just too much. Yet, as he stared into her eyes, he spotted zero hesitation. And he saw a hint. A small hole deep inside her soul, the same he saw whenever he looked in the mirror¡ªa wound that would probably never fully heal. Unable to bring himself to acknowledge it, he looked away. She smirked, grim amusement at his reaction dancing through her eyes. ¡°If you want me to be entirely honest, I threw you off that cliff because you pissed me off,¡± she confessed. ¡°You patronized me and acted like I was nothing but a naive kid. Meanwhile, you were acting like a total coward, and honestly, I was beyond shocked at your lack of skill.¡± He snorted. ¡°Ah, I see, so it isn¡¯t your fault for trying to kill me; it¡¯s mine for being so weak?¡± ¡°I know you can¡¯t see things through my eyes, but I still lived a life very different from yours. I¡¯m not used to dealing with people outside the cult,¡± she said, sighing. ¡°You seemed so much more powerful than me that I thought you would be completely invincible against those dumb beasts. All I wanted to do was prove that I didn¡¯t need to be babysat.¡± ¡°There are other ways to prove that,¡± he said. ¡°Like by not being an idiot.¡± She groaned. ¡°Okay, sure,¡± he said. ¡°We¡¯re putting that aside.¡± He turned to face her properly, his eyes squinting. ¡°So let¡¯s talk about something else; you say that you grew up in a cult as a child slave forced to fight from birth, but I¡¯m not sure I buy that. From what I¡¯ve seen of you, you give off the impression of someone with a pretty spoiled upbringing.¡± She snorted at that. ¡°What, you think we were kept in cages in a dungeon?¡± she asked mockingly. ¡°For the record, I only learned that I had been living in a cult after I escaped. From what I can tell, we lived pretty ordinary lives there. We only spent around 2 to 3 hours a day fighting in the passage, then maybe another 2 to 3 training. I¡¯m not sure you understand what kind of place I grew up in. It¡¯s an entire community the size of a large town.¡± He snorted at that. ¡°Seems pretty cozy for a cult of terrorists.¡± ¡°Because it is,¡± she admitted. ¡°I didn¡¯t hate living there. We were given a purpose and every comfort we could imagine. It wasn¡¯t like the leader had any use in forcing us to live in misery. That would have defeated their entire message.¡± ¡°That being?¡± ¡°That the outside world is full of degenerates, and those who rise to the top are nothing but greedy, selfish tyrants who use their power for their personal benefit while trampling over those below them as they please.¡± The whiplash of hearing those words coming out of her mouth physically knocked him back. ¡°And how does terrorism fit into that!?¡± She snorted. ¡°That¡¯s a very good question. One I wish more of my friends had asked themselves.¡± She continued her story. ¡°Although what we were allowed to view was heavily regulated, there was a movie theater we could go to. There were also cafes, restaurants, boutiques¡­ there was even a club. The entire cult thrived on being a community.¡± ¡°I¡¯m assuming you left because of the uh¡­ the terrorism?¡± ¡°No, actually. I left because of the price we had to pay for that life. I couldn¡¯t tolerate seeing people around me die anymore. We were told to believe we were living with a purpose, but I never saw the point in all the bloodshed,¡± she said. ¡°They justified it through religion, but I didn¡¯t buy into that. So I ran away.¡± ¡°How?¡± ¡°Jumped a barbed fence,¡± she answered. ¡°The guards attacked me, but I was slightly faster and just a bit more suicidal than they expected. The fence cut me up, three stone bullets hit my back, and a shard of blood nearly cut into my spine. Frankly, I barely remember how I made it out of the forest, but by the time I reached civilization, I was nearly dead already. A police patrol spotted me and brought me over to a hospital. When they realized that I had no real identity and no way to pay them, the clinic only did the bare minimum to stop me from dying and sent me to be interrogated. ¡°I told them everything, and after around two days, I was released with a new identity. But my injuries weren¡¯t healing,¡± she said, clutching her stomach. ¡°I still vividly remember the night I spent in the rain, hiding under a bridge, my back so inflamed I could barely think straight. Back home, as long as we survived, we were given free treatment. Finding myself without that luxury, I just wanted to go back. ¡°Then, I saw a flash of purple light envelop me as a small ball dropped on my lap. I had seen that happen a few times already, and without hesitation, I accepted the prime into my body before I even knew what it did. ¡°The natural-quality healing of ascending to a single star saved my life, but my back wasn¡¯t healed enough to stabilize. Then, I saw it. My eyes had changed from my ascension, going from a dull brown to a vivid purple, and it wasn¡¯t just a cosmetic change. I could see life force. I could smell it. Taste it. And I instinctively knew that I could tear it out of the bodies of living things. I killed a stray cat and used its spark to heal myself. That was also when I learned that there were consequences to doing so. ¡°I realized I needed a spark with stronger vitality to fix my mistake, and I knew only one way to get my hands on one. So I hitchhiked for days and eventually made it here. Ever since, I¡¯ve been living inside this passage, sleeping and hunting every day in my search for a deviant with enough vitality to help me fix my wounds. And that was when I ran into you,¡± she said, staring at him. ¡°There you go. Happy?¡± she asked, trying to smirk, but it looked strained. ¡°Just one more thing¡ªwhere did you get your dimension ring?¡± ¡°Oh, that?¡± she asked, raising her hand to admire the piece of magical jewelry. ¡°I found it on a corpse buried under a pile of rubble.¡± He smirked at that. ¡°It¡¯s not finders keepers around here, Sophia,¡± he teased. ¡°You¡¯re supposed to report that.¡± She raised an eyebrow at him. ¡°Well, where did you get yours?¡± she asked. ¡°I doubt you have enough money to buy one with enough space to fit a whole damn machete in there,¡± she said with a cheeky grin. ¡°Fair point,¡± he said. Honestly, he didn¡¯t know what to say. At some point, he had started actually listening to her explanation, and¡­ What reason would she have to spout such convoluted lies? In many ways, she had gone through something surprisingly similar to what he had. He couldn¡¯t bring himself to cast any more doubt on her story, even if his pride made it impossible to admit it. The moments of silence stretched on. She waited anxiously, rubbing her shoulder as she looked away, looking so frail and vulnerable in the darkness. He could see her regret like a sticky ooze slathered over her skin. What could she be feeling at that moment? Waiting beside him, hiding from her brethren she had so selfishly betrayed? At that moment, he felt burdened by her conflict. Would she go back to them if she encountered them? He remembered what she said about the cult¡¯s message. Even if it didn¡¯t justify their actions, that message couldn¡¯t possibly be more correct. If anything¡­ He wanted to be an exception to that rule. ¡°My real name is Freddy,¡± he said suddenly, surprising himself. His throat tightened. Sophia looked at him in surprise. A voice in the back of his mind screamed at him to keep his mouth shut, but he couldn¡¯t resist the compulsion to speak. Then, starting from his childhood, he told her his story. Granted, he kept many details private. He didn¡¯t share his real surname, he didn¡¯t share where he had lived, he didn¡¯t specify Madame¡¯s identity or why she took him under her wing, he didn¡¯t tell her about Bloodshed, he didn¡¯t tell why the Kraven clan had been after him, and he said nothing about the fight between him and the patriarch. But he shared everything else. By the end, he felt¡­ good¡ªa lot better than he had for a while¡ªas if a massive boulder had rolled off his back. He didn¡¯t trust her enough to say everything¡ªhell, he didn¡¯t trust her enough to say as much as he had¡ªbut he had told her anyway. He had shared his tale with another person. And he felt¡­ warmer. Just a bit less alone in this cold, uncaring world. As he stared into her eyes, seeing that same hole again, the same pain that resonated with his own, he felt the shell of distrust crack ever so slightly. Was she keeping some details of her tail hidden, just as he was? Maybe. But he knew. At least in broad strokes, her story was genuine. Because within her eyes, he could see not sympathy¡ªbut empathy. She understood. ¡°Wow,¡± she said. ¡°When did this turn into a tragic backstory dick-measuring championship?¡± He laughed at that. ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­ but I think I win.¡± She chuckled at that, shaking her head. ¡°Nah. Mine¡¯s sadder.¡± ¡°Nuh-uh,¡± he responded childishly. He rubbed the back of his neck as he looked away. ¡°Sorry,¡± he said, feeling his pride tearing apart in the wake of that word coming out of his mouth. So he backtracked a little bit, ¡°I still think you¡¯re a fucking dumbass, and I¡¯ll never forget the fact that you nearly killed me, but¡ª¡± She aggressively rolled her eyes and laughed. ¡°You¡¯ll never let go of that, will you?¡± He chuckled. ¡°Save my life once or twice, and I¡¯ll think about it.¡± He smiled broadly at her. She shook her head and breathed out, relaxing slightly. ¡°Anyway,¡± he clapped. ¡°What do you want to do now?¡± ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°What I mean is¡ªare we sticking to this zombie cosplay plan, or¡­?¡± She looked at the ground. ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­¡± she said, sighing deeply. ¡°To be honest, the odds of it working are¡­ not as high as I¡¯d like. We¡¯ll have to get pretty damn lucky.¡± ¡°Are our chances better if we confront them?¡± ¡°Hell no,¡± she said, shaking her head and staring at him seriously. ¡°Don¡¯t take this the wrong way, but you¡¯re not qualified to face these people.¡± ¡°Are you saying that because you really think we can¡¯t do it or because you are afraid to face them?¡± he asked. ¡°And I don¡¯t mean afraid to fight them, but¡ª¡± ¡°I get it,¡± she said, hesitating. ¡°And I don¡¯t know.¡± Sophia slumped a bit. ¡°Would you go back to them if you could?¡± he asked without even a hint of judgment in his voice. ¡°Honestly¡­ I kind of agree with their message. Maybe if we beg on our knees, they¡¯d take us in?¡± he suggested with a sly grin, but¡ª ¡°No,¡± she said. ¡°They aren¡¯t big on forgiveness and second chances. They wouldn¡¯t be doing shit like this if that were the case.¡± ¡°Yeah. I guess that tracks.¡± He paused momentarily, then his eyes slid down to the ground. ¡°What if I were to tell you that I might have a way to fight them, anyway?¡± he suggested cautiously. She glanced at him with a raised eyebrow. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re aiming at, but it will have to be something huge.¡± She shifted a bit as if recollecting a painful memory. ¡°They don¡¯t hesitate to utilize illegal talents, and they have no qualms about using them in fucked up ways. What do you have?¡± she asked. He couldn¡¯t stop a small smile from appearing on his face. It was time to introduce her to his favorite little skeleton. Chapter 76 - A Seal to Remain Unbroken The gorel realm was a hub for three other passages. One was of intermediate difficulty, and two were reserved for elites. Within the realm of intermediate difficulty, another passage took to perhaps the most interesting realm that could be accessed through this hub. It was an Anomalous Realm¡ªmore accurately, a dungeon. Such realms were extremely rare and valuable; the Tomb of Harrkanna was no exception. Jacob stood beside his party in the middle of the tomb. It was a peculiar realm. The time within reset every 28 hours and 16 minutes, but if someone was inside the realm when it should be reset, it would be postponed until those people left. Anomalous Realms such as this one were strange in many ways, the most notable of which was what happened when an object from within was removed. For the Tomb of Harrkanna, anything taken from within¡ªbarring prime vestiges, given that they generated¡ªwould immediately turn into ephemeral sand and evaporate into thin air. But there was one exception¡ªthe crown of Harrkanna, an item that resided on the head of the monster that waited as the final confrontation at the end of the dungeon. Well, the crown itself, which was made from pure gold, did vanish into thin air if taken out. But one of the jewels embedded into it didn¡¯t. A tiny little fragment of crystalline, shimmering material¡ªa shard of tzenekite, one of the most valuable materials known to humanity. There were many reasons why tzenekite was valued so highly, but the biggest one was that it was the main ingredient to a particular type of construct. Stars weren¡¯t the only way essence could be stored within the soul. With tzenekite, there was a way to artificially create a secondary, minor core that acted as extra storage¡ªa satellite. The lowest grade of satellite provided only 1% additional capacity, and the highest ever made contained 5%. This seemed like quite a disappointing increase to many, but satellites were exceptional in one regard¡ªthey could regenerate their total capacity in a single second. Even the lowest-grade satellite could generate enough essence to offset the cost of a minor physical boost or cheaper ability requiring continuous casting. But, as was the case for anything in life, the greater the power, the greater the cost. Even ignoring the absurd price that started in tens of millions and ended in hundreds of billions of dollars, the overuse of a satellite could seriously injure an archhuman or even kill them in extreme cases. Many thought it clever to endlessly temper themselves with the near-infinite reserves a satellite could provide. Many died doing so. Just because the satellite could provide the essence did not mean that an archhuman¡¯s body could handle the output. Essence-replenishing treasures and meditation at least purged a part of the already present reflux essence within an archhuman¡¯s body. Satellites didn¡¯t. Jacob paid close attention to his recently upgraded two-star satellite. A small but bright dot illuminated the inside of his ethercosm with the luminance of a distant supernova. The increase in his power was already quite noticeable. He had kept Ignite Muscle active throughout every fight during their delve and only relied on his physical abilities. Thus, he hadn¡¯t spent even a single percent of his 179% essence capacity. His dad had bitched quite a bit about the 67,000,000 dollar price tag, but in his opinion, it had been worth every penny. Besides, his old man was exaggerating. Most of the material came from the dungeon they owned. Not selling something wasn¡¯t the same thing as buying something. He shook his head and brought himself back to the present. The small sandstone chamber they found themselves within had disgusting liquid splattered over every wall. The minor enemies within the cave were undead mummies. He would appreciate it quite a bit if they were dry and skeletal, but unfortunately, every single one was as if they had been dipped into black sewage. It was slimy and gross. But at least the enemies weren¡¯t particularly threatening. Not to their party, at least. Phillip used a small cloth to wipe the excess sludge off his vest before it could dry and damage it, and the new girl¡ªKaren¡ªwiped the blade of her saber with a rag. Much of it had gotten onto her white clothes, and some had even stained her curly hair, but she paid no heed to either. The material her robes were made of wouldn¡¯t be damaged by something so minor. His eyes flicked to his girlfriend, Rachel. She was screaming at Theodore because he interrupted her talent with Scattered Starlight. Theodore was trying to pacify her, but Jacob knew better than to think the man would succeed. Once Rachel got going, nobody could stop her. Slowly, his gaze traveled back to the new girl. Her tan skin was smooth, and her body was lithe. She was a bit more muscular than Rachel, and the contours of her robe revealed a rather well-toned body. He licked his lips, mentally comparing her to his girlfriend. ¡°Jacob,¡± Phillip called. ¡°Let¡¯s get going.¡± Jacob licked the nape of his mouth as he made clicking sounds with his lips. ¡°We go when I say we go.¡± Phillip sigh-growled like an angsty teenage girl and shook his head. ¡°Whatever.¡± What a fucking loser. Another fifteen minutes passed. He wasn¡¯t waiting for no reason. While his new satellite could handle the burden of Ignite Muscle, his body couldn¡¯t. He closed his eyes and relied on his second affinity to cast Rejuvenating Water Body. It provided some relief, and his satellite covered the total cost of using it. But even this couldn¡¯t last forever. The essence of using a tempering technique wasn¡¯t dispelled immediately. A part of it kept accumulating within an archhuman¡¯s body, and if too much of it gathered, it could cause rampant backlash. Thankfully, water was among the gentlest essences, allowing him to keep the recovery technique going for nearly 10 minutes. By the end, he felt like a new man. ¡°All right,¡± he said as he got up. ¡°It¡¯s time to keep going.¡± The others got up and followed him. One of the best parts of dungeon realms was that they were almost wholly predictable. The only random part was which enemies would become deviants. But, even then, as long as it wasn¡¯t the boss, that rarely proved to be an issue. In the last few corridors, they had to go through several traps. They circumvented all of them. They waited for the rolling boulder to pass by, threw weighted bags onto the pressure plates, and in the last room, the one just before the fight against the boss, they had to pass over a large pool of sand. The sand dragged anyone who stepped on the wrong spot into it. Theodore merely raised his hand and cast Illumination in the memorized pattern. A shimmering path of light glowed through the sand, highlighting the exact route they needed to take to safely make it to the other side. It looped and coiled considerably, so they made shortcuts by jumping over the gaps. Karen, flexing her impeccable skill as usual, simply leapt across the sand trap and allowed the wind to carry her to the other side. Finally, they stepped before the massive slab door. It slowly sank into the ground, revealing the intimidating figure of Harrkanna¡ªthe eight-handed mummy. The monster stood frozen in the middle of the opulent ancient chamber, which was hewn in chiseled sandstone. It stood around fifteen meters tall and held eight weapons, one in each hand. The arms, from left to right and up to down, held a platinum whip, a golden axe, a silver saber, a steel longsword, a bronze executioner¡¯s sword, a pig iron mace, a wooden staff, and a sandstone club. And, of course, the golden crown on its head. Jacob looked over at Karen. ¡°Are you ready?¡± he asked her. This was the woman¡¯s first time participating in delving into this dungeon. They had prepared her to the best of their ability, but words were hardly enough to properly elaborate on how the boss worked. You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. Its behavior remained consistent, even if it appeared as a deviant, but that didn¡¯t make it any less frightening. Yet, she nodded. ¡°I am confident,¡± she said softly, coldly. ¡°Good. Get into position,¡± he told the others. Once they stepped into the room, the boss would start moving. Phillip stood at the forefront. Karen stood behind him, both feet on a patch of shadow. Theodore closed his eyes and focused on conjuring Illuminate, and Karen stood just behind Phillip. Jacob stood to Theodore¡¯s right, waiting for the man to finish his spell. A few moments later, he opened his eyes and threw a ball of white light. It flew with unerring accuracy at the boss and splashed across its body, distributing itself into tiny clusters of stars. Those stars revealed the exact weak points Theodore had seen with his talent. They rested upon the most fragile parts of bone and within joints most weathered by the passage of time. The boss twitched, and the whip in its upper left arm moved, swinging a bit. Phillip lunged forward. The boss opened its empty eye sockets and screeched as it swung the platinum whip at the man. With a seemingly effortless flick, the tanker readied his shield and redirected the force behind the immense blow into the soil, creating a massive crater upon impact. Rachel sank into the shadow she had been standing on and appeared behind the boss. Her dagger was coated in her Red Venom as she attached a Black Whip to the boss¡¯s neck and pulled herself up, swinging her blade and leaving a long, sizzling gash up the length of its back. The mummy screeched in rage as it twisted four arms behind itself and assaulted Rachel, but the woman jumped back, swinging around a large pillar and vanishing into the shadow. It was finally Karen¡¯s turn. The woman opened her brown eyes and ran forward at dazzling speed, flowing through the air as if it was dragging her forward rather than resisting her passing. Within a moment, she made it to the mummy¡¯s feet, and with a single swing and the sound of air collapsing before the cleave of her blade, she cut one of Harrkanna¡¯s legs off. Jacob grinned. Theodore¡¯s prediction was correct. Picking that woman had been the right choice. Theodore placed a hand on Jacob¡¯s back and cast Holy Blessing. A small but significant burst of power echoed through Jacob¡¯s body as he activated Hydraulic Flex and dashed forward, his body enveloped in a faint mist as his Ignite Muscle blazed within. With a single, mighty leap, he entered the boss room and jumped on top of Phillip, who used his shield to activate his talent¡ªRedirect Force¡ªto push Jacob straight toward the heart of the collapsing giant¡ªright at a small cluster of bright stars scattered upon the sternum. Jacob¡¯s grin widened. The rush of power¡ªthe exhilaration of a perfectly executed plan coursed through his blood as he prepared a Titanic Strike. His fist landed, living up to the ability¡¯s name as deep cracks spread throughout the mummy¡¯s body. With his talent¡ªShatterstrike¡ªanything he struck acted the same as glass. Like a sculpture of brittle ice, the boss¡¯s torso shattered into large pieces, breaking its ribs apart and cracking its spine in two. Ending the fight almost instantly. *** As Jacob and his party left the sandy desert through the passage leading into the realm, the golden crown in his hands evaporated, and a single crystal remained on his palm. Despite its incredibly small size, it was prized at nearly 300,000 dollars, it was quite the reward for a mere three hours of work. He couldn¡¯t keep the smile off his face. Before adding Karen to their team, the boss fight was a lot more challenging. As long as the mummy was still standing firmly, it could fend off an attempt to end the fight early, requiring quite a bit more effort on the team¡¯s part to take it down. Not only did this frequently result in injuries, but it also damaged their equipment and caused excessive fatigue. A delve¡¯s profits were only as valuable as the contrast to the expenses invested into it. Thousands of dollars in equipment damage, injuries that had to be treated with expensive medicine, and fatigue that forced them to end their day early for the sake of rest could, at times, swallow up as much as half of the profit. But with Karen on board? He had to admit, he was getting quite excited. As they made their way out of the dungeon, they immediately stepped into a lobby. There were no employees currently present, and it wasn¡¯t nearly as large as the one at the main entrance to the gorel realm. Well, that was to be expected. This lobby had been constructed underground in a passage realm of intermediate difficulty. Its entire purpose was to create a safe room for those leaving the dungeon after a delve and to ensure there was no trouble. Their team slowly removed heavier pieces of armor and got comfortable as they prepared for a break. Anyone with access to a recovery technique used it, and Theodore made rounds with Recovery spells. The holy affinity was quite something. Eventually, the team was done with their after-battle recovery. They would rest for the next hour and then continue hunting inside the intermediate realm. They were qualified for one of the more difficult ones, but after a dungeon run like this, it was best they took it easy. Jacob talked to Rachel for a while, but eventually, she excused herself and went to the toilet. Before long, Theodore sat down beside him. ¡°So¡­¡± the man started. ¡°What do you think of the new girl?¡± ¡°I think she¡¯s hot.¡± Theodore snorted. ¡°That¡¯s not what I meant.¡± Jacob took a moment to think about it. ¡°Frankly, she¡¯s too much. Her talents, both prime and natural, are top-notch, and her mentality is superb. She might even get the lightning affinity at the third star, and if she does, none of us will be able to keep up with her. Maybe you can, but I can¡¯t,¡± he surrendered. ¡°Not unless I get a big opportunity. Either way, we¡¯re just resume padding for her. I¡¯m sure she¡¯ll be out in a year or two.¡± ¡°Damn,¡± Theodore said, snickering a bit. ¡°Surprised to see you so pessimistic.¡± ¡°I¡¯m just being real,¡± he said, shrugging. ¡°I had postponed my ascension for years, hoping my talent would become usable with weapons. If the situation remains the same at my third star, I¡¯m going to be shit out of luck with my options,¡± he said. ¡°Don¡¯t get me wrong, my talent is great. But I¡¯m too slow to fight barehanded. With three affinities, I can¡¯t use an affinity shard to get a wind affinity. Without weapons to extend my range and compensate for my lack of mobility, I can¡¯t keep up with geniuses like her.¡± ¡°And you think I can?¡± Theodore asked. Jacob snickered. ¡°You rat bastard. With your affinities and talent, you¡¯d be useful even if you were paralyzed from the neck down.¡± Theodore laughed, shaking his head. Both men watched as Phillip slowly approached Karen, who was sitting alone. The man sat down next to her, and Jacob sneered. ¡°The nerd¡¯s got his game on. Let¡¯s watch.¡± The scout chortled but then raised an eyebrow. ¡°Why are you so mean to Phillip? Don¡¯t get me wrong, I don¡¯t give a shit, but I am curious.¡± ¡°I never wanted that stupid kid in my party,¡± Jacob said. ¡°He was shoved in by my dad. I mean, come the fuck on, look at him!¡± He pointed at Phillip. ¡°Just look at his body language. He¡¯s trying to hit on that girl, right? But read his lips.¡± Then, he repeated mockingly. ¡°¡®I am quite impressed by your style, Young Mistress. It greatly showcases both the history of your clan and your personal experience¡ªptoo!¡± he spat to the side. ¡°Disgusting virgin. I prefer people like you and your wife¡¯s boyfriend.¡± Theodore choked upon hearing that. Jacob grinned at him widely. ¡°I actually talked to him the other day.¡± ¡°Dude¡­ can we please not talk about this?¡± Theodore requested nicely, but¡ª ¡°He was quite the asshole,¡± Jacob continued despite the man¡¯s pleas. ¡°Dude is so self-centered it¡¯s incredible. And he¡¯s shameless to the bone. He¡¯s a lot like you, you know. Maybe that¡¯s why your wife¡ª¡± ¡°My ex-wife!¡± the man corrected. ¡°Anyway, I don¡¯t give a shit what that whore does and with who. Me and her are history.¡± ¡°Can I have a round with her, then?¡± Jacob asked, prompting Theodore to shoot him a death stare. ¡°Chill, lil¡¯ bro, I won¡¯t touch her,¡± Jacob laughed as he ruffled the man¡¯s brown hair. ¡°But I might invite Liam to our party.¡± Theodore froze. ¡°Why would you do that?¡± he asked. ¡°We¡¯re already full, and you don¡¯t even know what the man¡¯s capable of.¡± ¡°Strange¡­ I think I remember you vouching for the guy just a while ago¡­ I wonder what changed,¡± Jacob said teasingly. Theodore stood there in silence for a few seconds. Jacob, meanwhile, was trying his best not to burst out laughing. ¡°I mean, the dude didn¡¯t even wait 24 hours to¡ªow!¡± he yelped jokingly as Theodore punched him in the shoulder. Jacob laughed, and Theodore shook his head, preparing to get up. ¡°Mr. Santorio!¡± someone called from the door. Jacob raised an eyebrow. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± he asked. The person standing at the entrance explained what was happening at the passage to the gorel realm. Jacob¡¯s blood ran cold. ¡°A terrorist attack?¡± Theodore mused. ¡°That¡¯s something, alright. What are we gonna¡ª¡± ¡°Get ready, everyone,¡± Jacob declared. ¡°We have to go.¡± ¡°Whoa, hold on a bit!¡± Theodore insisted. ¡°This could be pretty dangerous depending on who is doing this. Maybe it would be a bit wiser to wait until your father takes care of things?¡± ¡°Hell no,¡± Jacob said, shaking his head. ¡°We have to check things out. We¡¯re the most qualified party within this entire hub. We have to step up.¡± *** Just a bit outside the entrance to the gorel hub, a man wearing full armor sat on a boulder. He rested casually, observing the crowds of confused delvers as they gathered at the blocked entrance. ¡°You poor children,¡± he said, shaking his head sadly. ¡°I really am so sorry for doing this,¡± he uttered with pain in his voice. Then, he returned his consciousness to his main body, which was deep underground. He was sitting cross legged on top of a massive runic formation. The runes shimmered with ethereal white light, reinforcing a seal on a passage. His body appeared youthful, but he had an aged air around him. His golden eyes were slitted sharply, and his large forehead was topped by a hairline, forming an M-pattern in his black hair. His body was skinny, and his left arm was missing. ¡°I can not provide you with salvation,¡± he said, sighing deeply. ¡°But from your ashes,¡± he said, putting his arm down to the runic formation as it flickered lightly. ¡°From all our ashes¡­ ¡°We can at least give the children a chance.¡± Chapter 77 - Blursed In a dingy corner of a small governmental office in a tiny settlement in the countryside by Pittersville, there was a door; behind it, a little room. A small tablet sat in the center, placed upon a deteriorating pedestal, with four face-down photographs and a paper detailing an encrypted report resting upon its surface. Legally, every settlement with more than 1000 inhabitants had to have a chamber like this one. The purpose of the ethertech contraption was simple¡ªso that any government officials could contact the central. Naturally, this also applied to any four-star archhumans who had accepted the duty and responsibility of lordship. Madame Morleppe smiled gently as she placed another small note on the remaining free corner of the tablet. The paper held a code that only she was privy to. Every lord got such a code once a year, and if they decided to use it, their message would immediately become the highest priority. And the highest-priority messages went directly to the supreme ruler of the American Empire¡ªEmpress Kaiya. Once she was done placing everything on the surface, she infused it with her essence, and the stone tablet scanned it, projecting a copy to the central, where it would be forwarded to a higher-up. She collected the evidence, placed it in her storage ring, and sat on a nearby chair, waiting for the response. Pulling out a cocktail from her ring with a puff of air, she sipped on it impatiently and sighed. Frankly, she wasn¡¯t thrilled with her discovery. Peter Vane¡¯s father¡ªMatthew Vane¡ªhad been brutally murdered, as she had dutifully recorded with her camera. The crime scene hadn¡¯t been concealed so thoroughly that nobody would know what happened, but it had been done cleverly enough to prevent discovery for what had been well over a month at that point. Was any of this proof of her theory that the man by the name of Peter Vane was actually some form of a double impostor? Not quite. But she didn¡¯t need to prove anything¡ªall she needed was to give the empress a valid reason to take a closer look at what Harold was up to. The only reason the Kraven Clan had gotten a slot for the expedition was that they could prove that the company was being run well enough that their operations wouldn¡¯t pose any undue risk to Starhold or New Earth. The evidence she had collected was enough to justify an in-depth audit and investigation of their activities, which would undoubtedly reveal the illegal slave trade they were running, and Basilisk would have to take all the responsibility. The thought of that made her giddy. Oh, how she craved to see that man¡¯s face wrought in agony and despair. If his image fell far enough, she could even possibly justify challenging him to a duel and killing him before he could attempt to seek revenge. Or, perhaps even better, she might get priority to buy off the rights for the expedition slot. Reselling them could net her some extra funds. She anxiously waited for the empress¡¯s response. Naturally, the final outcome would be up to that woman¡¯s decision, and heavens knew she hated being used by quarreling Lords. Her thoughts were interrupted as the tablet¡¯s surface lit up. She walked over to it and spotted the glowing imprint of a response letter. HELLO, NARCISSE. The letter started. IT¡¯S BEEN A WHILE SINCE YOU LAST CONTACTED ME. I AM CURIOUS ABOUT THE CONTENTS OF YOUR LETTER. I WANT TO DISCUSS THE ISSUE AT LENGTH. I AM MOMENTARILY BUSY WITH MY WORK IN STARHOLD, BUT I WILL BE RETURNING TO NOVA YORK IN TWO WEEKS. WE HAVEN¡¯T SEEN EACH OTHER IN QUITE A WHILE, DEAR. I WOULD LOVE TO CATCH UP. BEST REGARDS, KAIYA. Madame gulped as a nervous smirk quirked up on her lip. Did I anger her somehow? she wondered and hoped that wasn¡¯t the case. It was rare to receive a direct invitation to an in-person meeting, and frankly, it was rarely a good thing. This outcome had been outside her expectations; she would have to cancel her immediate plans. Nobody could reject the Empress¡¯ invitation¡ªnot if they valued the thing that kept their head attached to their body. Sighing, she swallowed the stress cramp that was inching up her throat and headed out of the building. *** Freddy had been hesitant to reveal Bloodshed to Sophia, but with their lives on the line and her holding much information that could save them from their predicament, he had decided that this wasn¡¯t the time to keep possibly invaluable tools hidden. But¡­ he had expected quite a bit more from her reaction. Honestly, he had been hoping to see her eyeballs bulge and mouth drop in shock as she spluttered, screamed, and ran away at the sight of a bona fide spirit under his control¡­ but her reaction was quite different. ¡°Whoa!¡± she said, inching closer with curiosity. ¡°I had no idea you had a bound spirit! Holy crap, where did you get that ring!? That thing must have cost a freakin¡¯ fortune!¡± He stared at her and blinked slowly. ¡°Do you already know what this is?¡± he asked incredulously. ¡°Well¡­ duh?¡± She chuckled. ¡°I¡¯ve spent a lifetime studying in preparation to become a full-fledged cult member. My knowledge of etherology is way ahead of yours, buddy,¡± she declared. He was immeasurably disappointed that his situation was something others already knew of, but he wasn¡¯t surprised. Countless archhumans had lived and died during the past 200 years. Some people must have seen wilder stuff than he could imagine. Ignoring the bruise on his ego, he squatted down to pet Bloodshed on the head. ¡°If you know what this is, I¡¯d like to hear more about it.¡± This had turned into a priceless opportunity to learn more about the nature of the shell in his soul and its connection to the ring on his hand. The thing he wanted to know the most was how he could evolve the power. Bloodshed was no longer growing in strength, no matter how much stuff it killed. If he had a way to empower it, well¡­ She frowned at him, lifting an eyebrow and slightly cocking her head in confusion. ¡°Uhm¡­ Do you not know what it is?¡± she asked. ¡°How did you even get your hands on it?¡± ¡°That¡¯s a story for another day,¡± he said. She squinted at him and growled in frustration. ¡°Ugh, fine,¡± she said. ¡°Well, not like there¡¯s much to know about it. That ring on your finger is a spirit artifact. It has no powers attached to it other than the spirit that is sealed within. When you release it, it acts as a familiar that fights for you. ¡°That thing is completely mindless; if you attack something, it will fight by your side, as you must have already learned. Speaking of that, why didn¡¯t you call for it during your fight with the gorels?¡± she asked with a raised eyebrow. ¡°It could have handled an army of those things without any issue.¡± Freddy stared at her, utterly baffled. ¡°Uhhh¡­ What?¡± he spat, ignoring her question. ¡°No, you¡¯re, like, completely wrong; none of what you said is true.¡± ¡°Master,¡± Bloodshed finally spoke. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t listen to this ignorant woman¡¯s words.¡± Sophia¡¯s face suddenly paled. ¡°Did that thing¡­ just¡­ talk?¡± A massive, shit-eating grin spread on Freddy¡¯s face. ¡°Looks like you¡¯re not as wise as you thought, Miss Cultist.¡± She slowly got up and walked back, sweat visibly pouring down her face. ¡°Liam¡­ I mean, Freddy¡­ listen to me; that isn¡¯t a bound spirit. If that thing decides to attack us, we¡¯re dead,¡± she declared, whimpering slightly. ¡°How insolent,¡± Bloodshed declared. ¡°How dare you presume that I would assault my master?¡± ¡°What the f¡ª¡± Sophia cursed through gritted teeth. ¡°You better explain what¡¯s happening here, or I¡¯m leaving you to your fate.¡± He couldn¡¯t stop himself from laughing. ¡°Oh, yeah¡­ that¡¯s the reaction I wanted to see.¡± ¡°Liam! I mean Fre¡ªwhatever; this isn¡¯t funny!¡± ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± he said, laughing harder, ¡°it¡¯s fucking hilarious!¡± ¡°You idiot!¡± she shouted, preparing herself to run the other way. ¡°No, no, no!¡± he yelled after her. ¡°Stop, wait, let me explain.¡± She stopped but stayed at a distance from him and the bloody skeleton. You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. He proceeded to explain how Bloodshed, as a remnant, became obsessed with protecting him. Then, he vaguely explained how it entered his soul and built a shell around itself and how the ring on his finger could release it. Sohpia stared at him blankly, completely dumbfounded. ¡°It¡¯s a spirit ability,¡± she said. ¡°You have a spirit ability in your soul¡­ and a ring bound to the spirit in the shell!? I can¡¯t believe it; how is that even possible?¡± ¡°Spirit ability?¡± He latched on to what she said, half disappointed and half excited that she seemed to recognize what it was. ¡°Yeah.¡± She nodded. ¡°And if what you¡¯re saying is true, then the way you obtained it is completely unprecedented. And if it can leave the shell, that skeleton can¡¯t be an ordinary spirit¡­¡± she noticed. He grinned. ¡°You¡¯re right. It isn¡¯t. It''s a unique.¡± Her mouth dropped, and her eyes bulged. Freddy grinned harder. ¡°See?¡± he raised his hand, manifesting Gore Knuckles. ¡°That¡¯s how I got my blood affinity.¡± She gripped her head, unable to process what he was saying. ¡°Yup, that¡¯s new.¡± But her apprehension didn¡¯t go away. ¡°Still, that thing isn¡¯t bound to you in any way. If you can release it, it''s just a wild spirit. Are you really, really sure that it won¡¯t suddenly decide to attack us?¡± ¡°It¡¯s already saved my life before,¡± he said, ruffling its bony head. ¡°I have faith that it won¡¯t threaten me.¡± ¡°What about me?¡± she asked. Freddy was about to say she had nothing to fear, but honestly¡­ he wasn¡¯t sure. He wanted to believe that he could tell it to behave, but it had a history of ignoring his commands if it found reason to act against them. ¡°Fear not, Master,¡± Bloodshed said as if it could read his mind. ¡°I will never do anything against you or your allies.¡± He wanted to believe it. But he could sense that a part of what it said had gone untold. Unless my life was in danger¡­ he mused internally. If hurting Sophia meant saving him, he knew for a fact that Bloodshed would do so without hesitation. Huh, okay, he decided, mentally shrugging. I can live with that. ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± he said. ¡°It¡¯s going to be fine. I¡¯ve already introduced it to a friend once, and it didn¡¯t do anything to him.¡± She didn¡¯t seem entirely convinced. But she sagged a bit anyway, cautiously approaching the two of them. ¡°Either way,¡± he said, "I introduced Bloodshed to tell you about the ability it¡¯s attached to.¡± He then proceeded to explain in depth how Blood Sacrifice worked. This time, nothing about his explanation surprised her. ¡°That¡¯s an outstanding spirit ability.¡± ¡°Speaking of that,¡± he said, ¡°what the hell is a ¡®spirit ability?¡¯¡± ¡°Blood Sacrifice is a spirit ability,¡± she said, shrugging. ¡°Although usually they¡¯re obtained through quite different means. Have you ever heard of prime spirits?¡± He frowned. ¡°Prime what?¡± ¡°Yeah, I thought so.¡± She relaxed a bit as she slowly sat on the ground before him. ¡°Spirits can swap between the Netherecho and the real world. Sometimes, if they stay in the real world for too long, they can get trapped there, turning into prime spirits. They¡¯re similar to prime vestiges, but their shape is irregular rather than perfectly round. ¡°Just as you can with prime vestiges, you can accept prime spirits into your soul. Then, you get a spirit ability. Essentially, they¡¯re just abilities constructed around the different concepts related to the spirit. The biggest difference between a regular ability and a spirit ability is that they don¡¯t cost essence to use but instead have an entirely different price.¡± He scratched his chin in thought. ¡°I¡¯m surprised I¡¯ve never heard of this.¡± ¡°I¡¯d have been surprised if you had,¡± she said. ¡°Not only are they rare, but only a select few are willing to use them.¡± ¡°Why?¡± ¡°Freddy,¡± she called his name as she looked him in the eye with a severe expression, ¡°your spirit ability is exceptional. Most of them have a far nastier price attached to their use. ¡°The most common is setting people¡¯s stars back in progress, but I¡¯ve heard of examples of them cutting into the lifespan, costing entire stars, severely mutilating the users upon use, and even costing the user¡¯s life.¡± She let the last part sink in. ¡°The leader of the cult I grew up in also has a spirit ability, and he only used it once. It cost him an entire arm, and nothing, not even supreme-quality healing, can grow it back out. Do you now get why Blood Sacrifice is so good?¡± He slowly nodded. ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°And that¡¯s not even the whole story,¡± she continued. ¡°Spirit abilities are fundamentally different from regular abilities. They can¡¯t be removed from your soul through any known means, and having a spirit ability in your soul slows your growth by 33 percent.¡± He nearly choked. ¡°Oh, relax,¡± she said, rolling her eyes. ¡°That¡¯s more than a fair price to pay for what you¡¯re getting in return.¡± But he didn¡¯t relax. In fact, his face looked like he¡¯d just licked a public bathroom toilet seat. ¡°Yeah¡­ Uhm¡­ What would happen if someone¡ªhypothetically¡ªhad two spirit abilities?¡± She stared at him blankly for a few moments. ¡°Motherfucker!¡± she screamed. ¡°What the hell are you!? Seriously, I¡¯ve never heard of someone so anomalous in my entire life! You¡¯re like the most cursed-slash-blessed person I¡¯ve ever met! You¡¯re, like, blursed or something.¡± He snorted at that. ¡°Is it what I¡¯m guessing?¡± ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s exactly what you¡¯re guessing! Your growth is 66 percent slower! Wow, that¡¯s really gonna suck for you later,¡± she said. ¡°But now¡­ urgh,¡± she groaned, blowing air through her lips. ¡°What does the other one do?¡± He briefly explained how Leviathan''s fury worked. ¡°Damn!¡± she exclaimed. ¡°That¡¯s also really good. Usually, using that thing would be suicide, but with your talent¡­¡± She bit her thumbnail, looking at the ground. ¡°So¡­¡± he started. ¡°What do you think? Do you think Bloodshed can¡ª¡± ¡°First, let me ask you something,¡± she interrupted him. ¡°Usually, bound spirits can¡¯t go into the Netherecho. Can Bloodshed?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± He nodded. She smiled a bit, nodding excitedly. ¡°That¡¯s great.¡± ¡°Do you have a plan?¡± he asked. ¡°Look,¡± she said, getting up and stretching a bit. Suddenly, the night turned to day, marking one of the shortest nights either of them had seen in this realm. ¡°Well, that was short. Either way, it doesn¡¯t matter.¡± She raised seven fingers. ¡°This realm has seven passages other than the one we entered through. From what I know of the cult, their plan will probably be as follows: ¡°First, they¡¯re going to try to crack open every sealed passage they can, including those who have been transformed into delvable realms. This will take a while, perhaps a week or so. Then, they¡¯re going to rile up the gorels, killing every queen until the rest of the workers start running around and causing mayhem. Those gorels will be used as bait for stronger monsters looking for food through the opened passages. During this whole thing, they¡¯ll have kill squads roaming the area and killing off the delvers.¡± Freddy stared at her for a long moment. ¡°You were raised beside some crazy motherfuckers, huh?¡± he asked jokingly but found no humor in his words. The way she was talking about these cultists, she was confident that they wouldn¡¯t be stopped by a handful of delvers¡ªmost likely not even the veterans. ¡°So¡­ how do we fight against that?¡± he asked. ¡°We don¡¯t,¡± she said. ¡°My guess is that the strongest member here will be a three-star. By the time they¡¯re ready to open the passages, the more powerful higher-ups will come from the outside to clear out anyone trying to stop the break. But even a three-star is way too much for us to handle, even with your spirit abilities.¡± ¡°Are they really that strong?¡± he asked skeptically. He wasn¡¯t yet willing to share this, but he had killed a four-star elite with Blood Sacrifice, so he knew for a fact that it was capable of taking care of a three-star. ¡°Freddy, the average age at which a Child becomes a member is 29. Until then, they spend their entire life training. These are elites among elites, and fighting dirty is their primary weapon. Not only that, but they¡¯re psychotic; any one of them is willing to sacrifice their life for the cult¡¯s purpose.¡± ¡°So what do you suggest we do then?¡± ¡°Once they¡¯re done with step one, we¡¯ll enter one of the passages they open and hide there.¡± ¡°Seems easy enough.¡± ¡°We have to make it past the guards first.¡± ¡°Can we summon Bloodshed to take care of that?¡± Freddy suggested. ¡°If the realm is swimming with gorels, we¡¯ll have plenty of blood to sacrifice, no?¡± ¡°Sure, but how much blood are you confident in collecting?¡± she asked. ¡°I¡ª¡± He froze. ¡°¡­ Shit.¡± ¡°Exactly,¡± she said, sighing. ¡°From what I gather, you will probably also be able to use any blood I spill as long as the two of us are fighting side by side. But even then¡­ we¡¯ll have to fight a neverending swarm. This will be like the fight in the nest, but 10, if not 100 times worse. Theoretically, you could collect enough blood to threaten a good number of the cultists. In practice, we¡¯re going to die in a swarm of monsters before we make it anywhere near that far.¡± She was right. No matter how powerful he thought himself, he would eventually run out of essence. Even if he continued fighting without it, his body would give out. How much blood could he collect before that point? The last time he used Blood Sacrifice, he had a leviathan¡¯s worth of blood available. Not only that, but that blood was far more potent than gorel blood. No matter how far he made it this time, he doubted he¡¯d have nearly as much juice by the end. At what point could he say that he¡¯d collected enough? Frankly, he didn¡¯t see himself stopping before the point of near-total exhaustion; by that point, Bloodshed would have to be powerful enough to handle the entire fight on its own. He blew air through pursed lips and closed his eyes in contemplation. ¡°Bloodshed,¡± he called the skeleton, ¡°will you be able to fight by our side before I use Blood Sacrifice?¡± Sophia perked up at that, looking at the skeleton expectantly. The skeleton looked at Freddy for a long second. ¡°I could do that, but I believe that will go against your plan,¡± it said. ¡°Why do you think that?¡± ¡°While I¡¯m outside my shell, Blood Sacrifice is dormant. Any blood you spill during that time will not count toward empowering me when I¡¯m summoned through the ability.¡± ¡°Shit!¡± Freddy swore, growling in frustration and scratching his neck. Given what Sophia said, they had a week until this place was swarmed. ¡°Is there any way we can get more powerful in just a week¡­?¡± he asked. ¡°Well¡­ It¡¯s a little dangerous, but I can think of one way,¡± she said. He scowled. ¡°You want to¡­ run into a gorel hive?¡± ¡°Hell no!¡± she spat. ¡°We¡¯re going to run across cultists there. I was thinking of something else.¡± He raised an eyebrow. ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°You have a pet spirit,¡± she chirped. ¡°I¡¯m a one-star, and you¡¯re a two-star. I can¡¯t think of a better method to grow our stars but to go fight some things in the Netherecho,¡± she said with a sly smile. ¡°That¡¯s insane,¡± he said. ¡°Even with Bloodshed supporting us, we¡¯ll have to put ourselves at risk to make any progress.¡± ¡°True, you aren¡¯t wrong.¡± She grinned wryly. ¡°But I think I have a way to make it manageable.¡± Chapter 78 - Strategies Sweat pooled down Phillip¡¯s brow as he clasped his hands against the cold metal doors, keeping the passage sealed. Every few seconds, a powerful impact sent tremors down his arms, and he was struggling to maintain the essence reinforcement on the metallic barrier. Thankfully, his talent allowed him to at least partially deflect the force of the impacts, but he didn¡¯t believe he¡¯d be able to keep it up for too long. Behind him, Theodore was crouched next to a wounded guard. The guard, a man in his late thirties, clutched his side as it bled profusely, a massive bloody gash stretching from his navel and all the way to the back of his hip, nearly cutting his spine in half. Outside the passage, the other guard lay dead, having been bisected at the waist. Behind them, Jacob, Rachel, and Karen stood, discussing the situation and planning their next move. It hadn¡¯t been even fifteen minutes since a panicked guard ran up to them to report the terrorist attack. When they heard what was happening, they rushed to the passage leading back to the gorel realm. They arrived just in time to spot a grievously wounded guard closing the door in the second lobby as four figures wearing black cloaks stood right outside the passage, one of them launching attacks at the man. Ever since then, Phillip had been doing his best to maintain the integrity of the door the terrorists were trying to tear down. Their attacks weren¡¯t too powerful. But that only made the situation that much more serious. Their enemy was methodically assaulting the barrier, reserving their energy while rhythmically wearing Phillip down with time. Jacob¡¯s party didn¡¯t have too long before they would be forced into a fight, and the more time passed, the worse Phillip''s condition would be as they started the assault. Theodore poured every bit of essence into his holy affinity, drowning the severe gash in the guard¡¯s side, trying desperately to help it seal. He cast Heal repeatedly, trying to make progress, but the situation was desperate. The way things were looking, he would also be weakened when they started the fight. Every affinity that had access to healing spells healed differently. Water could prevent, or even entirely stop, bleeding, and it could significantly accelerate long-term natural recovery. Life could grow tissue back and fuse it together, even reaching a supernatural healing quality at the upper end of power¡ªin some cases, supreme quality, but that could only be self-directed. Nature drastically sped up natural recovery, cutting weeks of progress to mere minutes. The holy affinity was special. The healing quality was entirely stuck at supernatural, from the weakest spells to the strongest, but most of the effect was focused on purging foreign essence from the target¡¯s body. The man¡¯s wound was already pure¡ªand supernatural quality was expensive. Not to mention that Theodore was newly ascended, making all his holy spells stage zero. Thankfully, they had plenty of healing resources at hand, lessening the burden on their support. After a few minutes, Theodore dropped down, pulled a handkerchief out of his storage ring, and wiped his sweaty forehead. ¡°He¡¯ll live,¡± he said, shaking his head. ¡°I can¡¯t keep this up if you want me to help in the fight.¡± ¡°You did well,¡± Jacob said. ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± he asked the wounded man. ¡°I¡¯m¡­¡± He winced at the pain as he spoke. ¡°My name¡¯s James.¡± ¡°What¡¯s your talent and affinities?¡± ¡°I¡­ I have enhanced strength,¡± the man said. ¡°And my affinity is air.¡± Jacob sighed. ¡°Close your eyes and rest,¡± he told the man, deducing that the guard wouldn¡¯t be of any help against their enemy, not in his current state. ¡°Thank you, sir,¡± the man said as if he¡¯d been waiting for permission, and he promptly passed out. ¡°So!¡± Jacob shouted, clapping his hands together. ¡°Do we let the nerd pass out from exhaustion or fight back immediately?¡± ¡°I can buy you ten more minutes,¡± Phillip said, gritting his teeth. ¡°I think we need at least that much for Theo to recover.¡± ¡°Make that five,¡± said Theodore as he popped a pill. ¡°I¡¯ll be deadweight if you can¡¯t protect me. I have enough essence for a Holy Blessing to get you back up to speed.¡± ¡°I¡¯d appreciate that, but¡­¡± Phillip shifted his legs, bracing himself harder against the next attack. ¡°Save that for Jacob,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯d rather take a hit than¡ª¡± ¡°No,¡± Jacob said, denying him. ¡°Give the blessing to Karen.¡± ¡°What?¡± shouted Rachel, seemingly insulted at the suggestion. ¡°Uhm¡­ I¡¯m sorry, but like¡­¡± She looked at the curly-haired woman, glancing at the saber at her waist. ¡°No offense, by the way, but uh¡­¡± She turned back to Santorio. ¡°She¡¯s new to the team. I trust you with the blessing more than I do her.¡± ¡°Rachel¡­¡± Jacob sighed. ¡°Do me a favor and shut the fuck up.¡± He massaged his neck, relieving some tension. ¡°She¡¯s both more skilled and powerful than I am,¡± he surrendered. ¡°Besides, I think I have a good plan for what to do.¡± Everyone in the room focused on him. For all man¡¯s shortcomings, Phillip had to surrender that Jacob was an excellent strategist. The man was a born leader, and even though he was a colossal prick, he never let his nasty personality or pride put his party in danger. First, he asked Theodore for an assessment of their enemy. Even though they had seen their opponents briefly, Theodore had collected an impressive amount of information. ¡°Four were visible, but the way they were positioned indicated the presence of a secondary ranged attacker, likely hidden somewhere in the canopy,¡± he deduced. ¡°Their aura,¡± he continued, ¡°was a deep red¡ªthey¡¯re experts, all peak two-stars. Judging by the distribution of weaknesses, I spotted one person with Hundred Wet Hells, one with Stone Skin and possibly Metallic Bones, and a third had all their major arteries muted, likely indicating the blood affinity. The essence in the wound I healed was blood affinity, and the attack most likely came from that individual. ¡°Judging from what I¡¯ve seen, one has the water affinity, no visible weapons, likely an unarmed martial artist; another has earth and metal, probably their tanker; a third has the blood affinity with Crimson Mercury, possibly a ranged attacker. I don¡¯t know about the hidden person, but the fourth had no visible irregularities in the pattern of weaknesses, marking a lack of notable defensive tempering techniques or talent.¡± He took a deep breath and squinted his eyes. ¡°They¡¯re all wearing the same clothing, making differentiation difficult, but I remember their respective builds. I¡¯ll mark them blue, brown, red for the first three and purple for the untempered one.¡± ¡°Thanks for the rundown,¡± Jacob said, turning to the others. ¡°We don¡¯t know the full scope of this attack, but I think it''s safe to assume that they most likely know who we are and what we can do.¡± Everyone nodded at that. ¡°With that in mind,¡± their leader continued, ¡°they likely know plenty about our style and party composition. Rachel, Phillip, and I had been together for a while already, and we cooperated with enough other parties that a leak can be confidently accounted for. However¡­¡± He turned to face Karen. ¡°She¡¯s new to the party. And so is Theodore. The two of them are wild cards to our enemy, and it would be wise to center our strategy around their skillset.¡± Jacob swiftly detailed a loose strategy for their approach. There wasn¡¯t enough time to hammer out a detailed plan, and the more time they spent discussing it, the more exhausted Phillip became. After less than a minute of talking, they got into position. ¡°Everyone ready!?¡± Jacob asked. ¡°Yes!¡± the others chanted in unison. ¡°Phillip!¡± he shouted. ¡°Fall back!¡± The armored man jumped aside, clearing Jacob¡¯s path. With a severe expression on his face, Jacob rushed forth and slammed a Tectonic Strike at the metal door, and immediately after, a thick shard of blood fired straight at his head, but he leaned to the side, avoiding the attack. As soon as he created a clear line of sight, Rachel vanished into his shadow and out into the woods, and Phillip raised his shield and defended Theodore, who proceeded to fire several high-speed, nearly undodgeable lasers at their opponents. The blasts of light did no damage, but they left clear marks on their opponents, allowing them to quickly identify the attackers. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. When he was done marking their foes, Theodore raised his arm and placed it on Karen¡¯s back. With a burst of holy essence, a faint light enveloped the woman. Karen rushed forward, bursting past Jacob and into the opening like a cannonball as she swung a powerful attack at the man marked in brown, who proceeded to defend himself rather skillfully, orienting his body in a way that would easily deflect most attacks. Unfortunately for him, Karen¡¯s talent¡ªSword Saint¡ªwasn¡¯t something that made her attacks easy to deflect. The man¡¯s arms were cleaved right through with close to no effort, and his entire face was chopped clean off, starting from right under his jawline and ending right above his forehead, allowing the man¡¯s brains and blood to scatter through the forest. Karen appeared to flinch at the sight, but she recovered her composure immediately afterward. Jacob threw a fireball beneath the feet of the mysterious attacker marked purple and rushed at the one marked with a blue patch. His talent excelled at destroying defensive opponents, and he expected his target to fall apart into pieces as soon as he landed an attack on him. But the momentum of their assault had fizzled out, and their opponents had finally reoriented themselves. Several thick vines wrapped around Jacob¡¯s leg, and he cussed at the thorns tearing into his calves. ¡°Shit!¡± he yelled as his attack lost most of its momentum, but he extended it anyway, doing his best to start his confrontation off with an upper hand. Just as his fist was about to reach, his opponent vanished into thin air. As a well-timed Flowing Strike slammed into the back of Jacob¡¯s head, he realized that his opponent had an instant teleportation talent. The world swam before his eyes, but he wasn¡¯t so weak as to fall from something as small as this. Before his opponent could pull his leg back, Jacob grabbed it and swung the man down, but the figure contorted their body in a way that allowed him to wrestle his leg free from Jacob¡¯s grasp and land a powerful punch straight into his midsection, just in time for the figure to teleport again, slamming a mighty kick into the back of his knee while a sharp shard of blood embedded itself deeply into Jacob¡¯s cheek, cracking a tooth. He spotted a fifth, unmarked figure fall from a nearby branch wrestling with Rachel, who kept her thighs wrapped tightly around their head as she stabbed away at the cloaked attacker¡¯s stomach. This only occupied his attention for a fraction of a second, and, predicting an attack to the right of his head, where the shard of blood was waiting to be embedded deeper into his skull, he raised an arm to defend himself. Unfortunately, his opponent seemed to have predicted this possibility and had attacked his side instead, which was now entirely exposed. Karen rushed at the blood caster, flicking their projectiles out of the air as she inched closer. The purple-marked figure suddenly flew out of the mass of fire Jacob had created, covered in a thin sheet of water protecting their body from the heat. As soon as the attacker made their way past the fire barrier, they launched a rain of ice shards at such speed that even Karen took several blows to her torso before she could defend herself, allowing an opening for the blood caster to pin her leg to the ground with a blood javelin. The Black woman pulled her leg back with cold efficiency, allowing the javelin to mangle her calf as she balanced on the other foot and cleaved right through the massive boulder of ice flying at her, but just as the two pieces of ice fell to her side, a bloody projectile shot at her neck, only allowing her enough room to stop it from piercing her throat or cutting her jugular vein. Jacob wanted to finish his fight and step in to help Karen as soon as possible, but his opponent was proving too effective against him. While Shatterstrike was excellent against heavily defended foes, it was powerless when he couldn¡¯t land a direct attack. He cursed the shortcoming of his talent as he took another blow to his other side and a kick straight to his face, one that broke his nose and sent blood flying into the air as the world spun before his eyes. Suddenly, Jacob raised a leg and slammed the ground with a Tectonic Strike, lighting up both his stars. The attack split the ground beneath him, shifting his opponent¡¯s footing for a second. The cloaked man would teleport. Jacob¡¯s mind whirled as his eyes shot wide open. His mind rushed as he contemplated the possibilities. Where would his opponent go? Would he move behind him as he had several times already? Would the man fall back, creating distance between them to disengage? Soon enough, he realized that it didn¡¯t matter. His face contorted, widening into a manic grin as he ignited an explosion beneath his left foot. The man teleported somewhere, likely expecting an attack, but Jacob flew to the side, instead launching himself toward Karen. The skin on his foot was burned, and his leg was wrought in agony, but he grinned nonetheless as his massive body flew forward. Karen seemed to sense his approach, and as he neared, he shouted, ¡°Out of my way!¡± And the woman complied. He barreled at the blood caster, turning his back as he got into position to slam into them. The blood caster conjured a shield of bloody spikes, but that was useless. 156 kilograms of muscle, tempered with Hundred Wet Hells and Stone Skin and empowered with Tectonic Strike and Shatterstrike, broke through the spikes like a thin sheet of glass. As the force of his form slammed into the cloaked figure, their body exploded into a shower of bloody pieces, fracturing like a statue of glass. The ice caster didn¡¯t hesitate, preparing to execute him on the spot, but a brief flash of light blinded them at the right moment, allowing Jacob to throw a quick fireball at their legs. The figure screamed in a woman¡¯s voice as Karen dashed at her, propelling herself on a single foot as a flawless saber swing decapitated her opponent. The water-affinity martial artist was the only person left standing, and seeing his comrades decimated, he turned around to run. A second later, a Piercing Beam fired from Theodore¡¯s palm, but the man dodged with insane reflexes, teleporting forward before the ability could touch him. But just as he reappeared a mere three meters away, Rachel, bathed in blood from head to toe, rose from his shadow. From her left arm, a thick chain of darkness appeared and whipped around the man¡¯s neck, and she pulled back with all her strength as she punched a katar of blood right into his back, penetrating through his rigid body just deeply enough to reach his heart. The man broke the chain with a Flowing Strike punch and teleported forward again, but a few seconds later, his steps slowed as he tumbled to the ground, dead. A deathly silence descended upon them, but nobody dropped their guard. Jacob and Karen had suffered debilitating injuries. Rachel had lost tons of blood, but her blood affinity ensured she had plenty to spare. Most of her skin had been lacerated by thorns from her confrontation with the figure hiding in the trees. ¡°Fuck me,¡± she said. ¡°Who the hell were these freaks!?¡± Jacob took a deep breath. Theodore tumbled forward, looking quite exhausted. The man had consumed a lot of essence. Usually, this wouldn¡¯t leave someone in such a condition. But the holy affinity was different. Both the light and holy affinities came with massive strengths and weaknesses. As for the holy affinity, it had, by far, the most tremendous backlash among all affinities. Using Holy Blessing twice in a single day and healing that guard had wrecked his body, and the quick and dirty method through which he replenished his essence wasn¡¯t helping either. Jacob pushed himself off the ground, wincing at the numerous bruises scattered around his body. ¡°We¡¯re in no state to go anywhere,¡± he said. ¡°Go back into the intermediate realm lobby. Phillip, wall the passage off as best as you can¡­ ¡°I have a feeling we have a lot more work to do.¡± *** Latent aura was the most critical resource for securing long-term growth. The best way to acquire more latent aura was to embrace risk. However, not all risk was equal. And not all risk mattered the same. For example, fighting a more powerful opponent was excellent. On the other hand, fighting an opponent of the same or similar power while there was a risk that a more powerful opponent might appear¡­ wasn¡¯t particularly impactful. Uncontrollable and unpredictable outside variables didn¡¯t matter because they were no indicator of skill or good decision-making¡ªthey were entirely dependent on pure luck. The Netherecho in the interspace was an excellent example of such an environment. There was constantly a risk that a powerful remnant or spirit would just pop up out of nowhere and obliterate an archhuman¡¯s projection, and, often enough, they could attack from entirely outside their range of view, making reacting to the threat almost impossible. Or, even worse, the threat could simply pop out of the ground. Sentient ether constructs could move through obstacles in the Netherecho. Freddy had often used Bloodshed to help in the Netherecho, but it had never been an exceptionally reliable way to grow his star. Well¡­ not until Sophia came in. He didn¡¯t necessarily feel stupid for failing to recognize Bloodshed¡¯s utility, but damn was he humbled by Sophia¡¯s wisdom. Their projections stood side by side, his blue reaper holding a massive scythe as her projection took the form of a¡­ princess? It was a small, doll-like projection wearing a fluffy pink dress, and her golden hair draped over one eye, covering it entirely, while her second eye was a massive, crazed orb of purple with small veins along the edges. And he soul construct¡­ while his was quite peculiar, hers was beyond bizarre. She had four fleshy tentacles growing out of her back¡ªtwo hung above her shoulders while the other pair went around her waist, almost looking like freaky spider legs. These tentacles could stretch far and exhibit quite a bit of power. Their unique ability was Bind. If she used it, all four tentacles would wrap around her target, making them an excellent way to restrain foes. The two of them looked on as Bloodshed pummeled the head of what looked like a friendly earthen bear as it begged for mercy. The plan was simple¡ªthe spirit would scout the Netherecho in the immediate area, making sure that no threats were lurking nearby. Then, it would drag a remnant over to them, placing it in the middle of an improvised arena. It would assault the remnant long enough to reveal how it fought and to show if it had any special ways to attack. This way, both outside interference and hidden powers were utterly ruled out of the equation, making their confrontation with the remnant a function of pure skill and strategy. It was such a simple yet brilliant way to accumulate latent aura. It irked him, but he had to admit that she knew what she was doing. Granted, it was still quite dangerous, but with Bloodshed nearby, the odds of either of them dying to their foe were much lower than they would be otherwise. That did impact the reward in latent aura, but not enough to justify going against such creatures without insurance. As Bloodshed finished the scouting and cleaning, it dragged forth their first opponent. It was a massive, hunched figure of black, flaky skin, taking the form of a dog-like creature that stood on two legs. Both its jaws and claws were a forest of sharp, fragmented spikes, and its wild attacks could even lightly damage Bloodshed itself. Freddy winced. ¡°By the way,¡± he started, facing Sophia¡¯s projection. ¡°How long do you think we should go at this?¡± Her mouth widened into a creepy, wicked, toothy grin. ¡°As far as it can take us, of course. Now, let¡¯s begin.¡± Chapter 79 - Ready or Not Leonard Santorio¡ªJacob Santorio¡¯s father and the leader of Santorio Enterprises¡ªlooked down across Nova York as he puffed a large cigar. Despite his perfect skin with zero signs of aging or blemishes, his thick white beard, bulky build, and bushy pale hair gave off the impression of old age. It was hard to tell how old an archhuman was purely by their physical looks, but for Leonard, it was almost as if his evolutions had been subtly guided by how he felt on the inside¡ªold, jaded¡­ tired. Past his prime. And even then, with his stage 4 Boundless Vitality tempering technique, he was in as good a health as a person could be. The thin, almost unnoticeable stream of supreme-quality healing that his cells generated acted slowly, but for him, who had lived for nearly 250 years, it had had plenty of time to purge him of all ailments, undoing the damage the world and time alike had done to his body. He pulled on the cigar, filling not only his mouth but even his lungs, having developed practically absolute resistance to the thick cigar smoke over the years. Then, he blew out a massive cloud. The misty mass roiled before him, taking on the shape of two dogs humping in the air. He chuckled. How silly. How peaceful. This was it, the thing he wanted to see. These goofy little creations, small acts of joyful vanity, were so much more pleasant than the horrors man was ready to commit when things got bad. As the animated cloud dissipated into blurry shapes, his vision¡¯s focus gradually swapped again to the city below. It was so different nowadays. So unfamiliar. He still remembered the day the world went wrong. The sensation of something profound subtly shifting, and a moment later, the image of his car engine exploding, sending the hood flying into the air as the car swerved into a family of four, killing all of them in an instant. Naturally, that hadn¡¯t been his fault. But he, the proud, haughty businessman who loved his car more than he did his wife of then, now no longer even remembered what brand the car had been. All he remembered was the image of the woman who had tried to save her child, now broken and bloody, as the vehicle pressed her limp body up against the wall. It was hard to place what he felt as he remembered that image. It wasn¡¯t guilt, not quite. The memory often flashed through his mind, not because it had traumatized him, but perhaps because he¡¯d at one point envied that tragic family, who were spared the brutality of the early post-rift era. Yet again, his gaze scouted the buildings below. This was no longer New York. It hadn¡¯t been for a long time. The architecture was different, with few buildings that had lived through the hellish war that took place on those streets. How cheerfully the new residents walked upon what had once been rivers of blood, with stray monsters walking around, either having come from portals to another world or having been born in the hearts of those who were driven to madness. As he stared across the world, with the horizon extending far further now than it had 200 years ago, he felt in no rush to do anything. With immortality and his fourth star progress stuck at 99%, he was free to peruse through life leisurely, taking all the time he needed to enjoy the little things, like cigars whose smoke morphed into the image of animals having sex. But he knew better than to grow complacent. Many times, he had decided to relax as the world finally seemed to settle in one place. Every single time, he realized that those early days of struggle had never ended. They sometimes just decided to take a break. Suddenly, the doors on the other side burst open. His face darkened, and his stomach sank. Only 6 minutes and 51 seconds of his 10-minute break had passed. The only reason the break was ever interrupted was for a dire emergency. He slowly turned around, facing his assistant, a young, nerdy woman who looked frazzled as she rushed to explain what was happening. He kept his calm as he heard her out. ¡°A terrorist attack, you say?¡± he asked in his deep, raspy voice, sighing in disappointment. For a moment, Leonard turned around to look across the city, his jolly mood collapsing. Indeed. Those dark days had never truly ended. And they likely never would. *** The strategy Sophia had come up with worked well enough. Freddy hadn¡¯t gathered enough ether to realize the progress that had been made easier for him, but he could tell that the tight bottleneck that had slowed his growth to a crawl was loosening with every remnant they defeated, and¡­ every time he nearly died. ¡°Fuck!¡± he shouted as the demonic sunflower remnant grasped his projection¡¯s leg with its root and pulled it back, opening its orange flower bud face, which was just a circular maw of serrated teeth. Sophia¡¯s tentacle soul construct rushed in, pulling him back while they both screamed for Bloodshed¡¯s help. The bloody skeleton rushed in immediately, clawing the roots apart and tearing the remnant''s head off with the other clawed hand. ¡°Shit! Fuck!¡± Freddy screamed again as he felt his projection unraveling. The pain being inflicted upon his soul felt piercingly cold, echoing through his senses with the promise of eternal darkness. Sophia used her tentacles to gather the small pile of water wisps they had collected to the side, and then she pushed the ball at him. He absorbed it, mending himself back together, but this being the third time he needed such treatment, his projection didn¡¯t heal fully, leaving a deep crack across his robes, starting from his chest and going down his leg. ¡°Okay, get out!¡± Sophia shouted. ¡°I¡¯m fine!¡± said Freddy. ¡°We can keep¡ª¡± ¡°No the hell we can¡¯t! Out, out, out! Right now!¡± ¡°Master,¡± Bloodshed said. ¡°Perhaps you should heed her advice and leave the Netherecho for the time being.¡± Hearing the bloody remnant taking Sophia¡¯s side was sobering, and Freddy nodded absent-mindedly, heading to his body and sinking back inside. His eyes opened, greeting the beige, stony cavern wall in the small nook they had hidden in so they could safely leave their bodies unattended. The crack across his projection was a crack along his soul. His body was there, and he was attached to it, but there was a slight disconnect. It was as if the world around him was slightly less substantial, and everything from light to sound echoed in his senses, blurring his surroundings and muting the noises around him. Sophia rose up a second later. Her hands ran across her face as she sucked air through her teeth, clearly frustrated. ¡°Freddy,¡± she called. ¡°This can¡¯t continue,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± he said. ¡°The crack is gonna heal by itself, I¡¯m not gonna¡ª¡± ¡°That¡¯s not what I meant,¡± she said. ¡°Get off my spine, woman,¡± he demanded. ¡°Give me some time; I¡¯m new to fighting remnants like this, and I can¡¯t do it perfectly within just a few attempts,¡± he shouted. ¡°Not all of us were raised to become killing machines, you know?¡± ¡°Okay, wow, rude!¡± she yelled back. ¡°But that¡¯s not what I meant either!¡± ¡°Then what do you want?¡± ¡°You can¡¯t fight!¡± she asserted. ¡°I know that!¡± he said. ¡°I told you, give me some time, and I¡¯m gonna¡ª¡± This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. ¡°No!¡± she interrupted him. ¡°Give me some time,¡± he repeated. ¡°I¡¯m listening to your advice, and I¡¯m gonna get better.¡± She shook her head. ¡°You will improve in the Netherecho, but we won¡¯t fight the cultists with our projections.¡± He knew she was right. That was only their fifth fight, and in three out of five, he had gotten himself lethally injured. Even if he got the hang of it in the Netherecho, his lack of skill with his projection wasn¡¯t the problem¡ªit was the symptom. He simply didn¡¯t understand how combat worked. His general approach was reacting to things as they came and retaliating with overwhelming force, but that was primitive at best. He heaved the most frustrated sigh of his life as he aggressively rubbed his face, pushed his palms'' heel into his eyes, and then moved his hands to grip his hair. ¡°I know,¡± he said. ¡°But what can I do about it?¡± he asked. ¡°We have a week, Sophia. I don¡¯t have the time to learn anything. We should focus on increasing our power as much as possible.¡± ¡°You¡¯re wrong,¡± she said, ¡°on both ends.¡± Then, she sighed and got up. ¡°Follow me outside.¡± He did, and moments later, they pushed past the small blockade they had built to shelter themselves and stepped outside under the searing sun and fake blue sky. He could swear that the sun sounded like a mosquito buzzing in his ear. His finger aggressively picked at his left ear, but the noise didn¡¯t go away. It was a lonely corner they found themselves in, but as far as the standards of interspace were concerned, it was a pretty safe one. There was little vegetation, and due to the border of the small realm, there wasn¡¯t enough space underground for gorels to build hives nearby. Those who had tried had been stopped by active interference by the staff. They stood on an empty clearing, nothing but dry, pale soil beneath their feet, with a wall of stone on either side of the outer perimeter, which took the form of a cleared ring of soil creating some space between the rocky, forested wilderness and the sheer cliff of the border wall, behind which lay literally nothing. They faced each other, Sophia¡¯s expression stern. ¡°Take your clothes off,¡± she said. Leave nothing but your underwear on.¡± He blushed. ¡°What!?¡± he shouted. ¡°Why would I¡ª¡± ¡°It''s nothing like that, you dunce,¡± she said, shaking her head. ¡°I can¡¯t see your muscles.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know, Sophia,¡± he said, taking a mock step back. ¡°Sounds pretty weird to me.¡± She rolled her eyes. ¡°Just do it.¡± He gave a cheeky chuckle as he complied, removing his armor until nothing but his thick, gleaming muscles remained. His skin was perfect, and his physique was so chiseled he looked like an idealized version of what a muscular man should look like. Frankly, he had half-expected her to blush at least a little upon seeing his impressive body, but her eyes were cold, and her expression was clinical and calculating. She tapped her chin. ¡°Turn around,¡± she demanded. He complied. ¡°You have a pretty decent build,¡± she said. ¡°Thanks,¡± he replied arrogantly, knowing well enough just how much work he¡¯d put into acquiring it as he turned back to face her. ¡°But you¡¯re not well-balanced,¡± she stated. His mood soured a bit as he raised an eyebrow. ¡°How?¡± he asked. ¡°Well, first of all,¡± she started as she bent over and slapped his leg, ¡°your quads and hamstrings are pretty big, while your calves are a bit small in comparison. This isn¡¯t your fault; it''s genetic, but it does make your lower body a bit imbalanced,¡± she informed. Also, your chest,¡± she said, getting up to slap his left pec, ¡°is huge.¡± ¡°Thanks, but can you stop slapping my body?¡± ¡°No,¡± she denied, grinning wryly as she slapped his right pec, too. ¡°Overall, you¡¯ve trained your physique quite well. Your talent has saved you from developing severe imbalances; purely strength-wise, you have quite the hardware. But this isn¡¯t going to cut it for martial arts,¡± she said. He frowned, honestly feeling slightly insulted. ¡°Why?¡± he asked. ¡°For starters, you¡¯re super top-front-heavy,¡± she said, pointing at his broad shoulders and thick pectoralis. Then, bringing her arms together, she lowered them to his skinny waist. ¡°Let me ask you a question: How often do you fall over when fighting?¡± He winced. More often than he¡¯d like to admit. ¡°It¡­ has happened a few times, yes.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not really surprising,¡± she said. ¡°Not with a body like this.¡± ¡°So what am I supposed to do?¡± he asked, raising an eyebrow. ¡°Train my calves until I balance it out?¡± He sighed in frustration. ¡°Eat until I get fatter?¡± She chuckled. ¡°Obviously not. We have a much better option,¡± she said, grinning at him. She raised her hand, and the skin on her palm bubbled slightly as pink mist seeped out. It was life essence. He frowned, not following. ¡°What are you gonna do with that?¡± She looked at him side-long, almost as if she were disappointed that he couldn¡¯t tell. ¡°I¡¯m a life-affinity arch, duh!¡± she said. ¡°I can manipulate living matter like clay.¡± ¡°And?¡± he asked. ¡°And¡­ I¡¯m gonna reshape your body.¡± Freddy scowled. ¡°Hell no!¡± he said, stepping back. She was right about what she said, but her proposal was crazy. He had read about it in a book once. Clinics existed where people could have their bodies reshaped and their muscles, joints, and even bones readjusted. One small problem, however¡ªthis wasn¡¯t particularly helpful for someone who fought for a living. These procedures were almost purely cosmetic. The readjusted parts had numerous nerve endings irreparably damaged, the reshaped joints grew stiffer, bones more brittle, and the bulk of any ¡°extra¡± mass added would be incredibly weak, more akin to fake muscle than truly functional tissue. But¡­ ¡°I know what you¡¯re thinking,¡± Sophia said. ¡°But you do remember the main advantage the two of us share?¡± she asked him. ¡°I do,¡± he said, knowing damn well that an infinite supply of supreme-quality healing could ameliorate many of those problems. ¡°But that doesn¡¯t fix everything,¡± he said. ¡°My healing can¡¯t heal weakness.¡± He adopted a grim expression. ¡°If my muscle is reshaped, it will cost me much of my hard-earned power. Also, the nerve endings might grow back, but that doesn¡¯t mean they will work perfectly right from the get-go.¡± ¡°You aren¡¯t wrong,¡± she said. ¡°But we might have a few options to address those issues. First, let me ask you something: do you have any steroids in that storage ring of yours?¡± He opened his mouth for a moment but then closed it. He did, but¡­ ¡°I do,¡± he answered cautiously. ¡°But I¡¯ve never tried them. It¡¯s possible that they¡¯re gonna kill me if I take even a single dose.¡± ¡°Damn,¡± she said, her eyebrows raising slightly as he said that. ¡°Aren¡¯t you forgetting about your undead body?¡± He shook his head. ¡°It could affect my brain,¡± he said. ¡°If it does,¡± she started, ¡°there¡¯s always the option of me burning a spark to heal you before it does any permanent damage.¡± That did eliminate the most significant risk, but he was still apprehensive. ¡°Look,¡± she said, sighing deeply. ¡°I¡¯ve seen you fight, and it''s honestly a pretty critical situation. You said it yourself¡ªwe only have a week. I can¡¯t teach you how to become a master in the time we have, but if we¡¯re willing to take a few chances, we can get you in better shape.¡± She crossed her arms and got closer, looking up at him. ¡°I don¡¯t get it,¡± he started, ¡°what exactly does reshaping my body have to do with my combat knowledge?¡± he asked. ¡°A lot more than you¡¯d think,¡± she said. ¡°A poorly balanced form makes everything more complicated. Archery is easier with a straight arrow. Swordsmanship is easier with a balanced blade. The same thing applies to martial arts.¡± He looked down at himself with a slight hint of shame. ¡°Is my body really that suboptimal?¡± ¡°Oh, yeah, definitely,¡± she confirmed without hesitation. He winced. ¡°Look, I know how they fight,¡± Sophia said, lowering her head slightly. ¡°Even if we bring you to 99% capacity, it will be no use if you suck using the power you have. Honestly, the way you are right now, the only way you can even dream of taking one of them down is by using Leviathan¡¯s Fury.¡± He took a deep breath. ¡°Are you sure you won¡¯t cripple me?¡± he asked. ¡°I¡¯m trusting you with a lot if I agree to this.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sure that, at the very least,¡± she said, ¡°I won¡¯t make things any worse than they already are.¡± ¡°And what about my equipment?¡± he asked, eyeing the pile of gear on the floor nearby. ¡°If you reshape my body, it¡¯s not gonna fit anymore.¡± ¡°Oh, please,¡± she said, rolling her eyes. ¡°That shitty gear barely provides any protection, to begin with,¡± she claimed. ¡°You have Hundred Wet Hells, right?¡± He nodded. Technically, it was Thousand Wet Hells, but yes, he had the tempering technique. ¡°Compared to that,¡± she continued, ¡°this armor is nothing.¡± He shook his head, ¡°You¡¯re wrong.¡± He walked over, bent down, and picked up a bracer. ¡°This stuff isn¡¯t top of the line, but put together, it provides defense against things I¡¯m not naturally resistant to,¡± he claimed. ¡°Hundred Wet Hells is mostly internal. It''s only effective against blunt force and partially effective against cutting and piercing.¡± ¡°No, Freddy, you¡¯re wrong,¡± she said. ¡°I know where you¡¯re coming from, but if the cultists come at you with poison, acid, or fire, they¡¯ll use the type of stuff this cheap gear won¡¯t be able to stand up to.¡± That was something he couldn¡¯t argue against. ¡°Okay, I get it,¡± he said, getting back up and dropping the bracer. ¡°I¡¯ll leave it behind.¡± He met her stare for a long moment and then sighed. ¡°Fine,¡± he surrendered. ¡°Let¡¯s get started, then. Need me to lay down?¡± ¡°Just one thing,¡± she said. ¡°This is going to be incredibly painful,¡± she said, pausing for a few moments to let the severity of the situation sink in. ¡°I¡¯m going to be reshaping your body, and my essence control isn¡¯t nearly delicate enough to stop me from tearing your nerves apart. Are you sure you can handle that?¡± ¡°I endured torture for months on end, Sophia,¡± he said, reminding her of his story. ¡°If there is any one thing I can tolerate, it¡¯s pain.¡± Chapter 80 - Fuck Genetics Freddy had come into this whole ordeal expecting to cruise through the pain quite easily. By anyone¡¯s standard, his reaction to having his nerves scrambled, muscle tissue molded, and bones rearranged was tame, but he was surprised by how difficult it was to endure. He¡¯d compare the pain to a slightly less painful version of Thousand Wet Hells. But that wasn¡¯t the main reason why it was hard to tolerate. Thousand Wet Hells was equally spread throughout his entire body, which somehow made it easier to handle. It overwhelmed his mind in a way that made the pain grow muted quite quickly, with only the first few moments being the truly difficult-to-overcome part. The primary issue with what Sophia was doing was that it was localized. It was painful, but not enough to completely overwhelm him. It was a type of suffering that evaded the ability to acquire tolerance to it. Still, the tiny jolts and occasional winces were barely even a reaction to what he was living through. And Sophia clearly knew it. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m sorry,¡± she said at one point. ¡°For what?¡± he asked, sucking air as he winced. ¡°When you told me about your past¡­ I thought you were exaggerating,¡± she confessed. ¡°I¡¯ve¡­ I¡¯ve witnessed this procedure being done to someone, and¡­ yeah¡­ you¡¯re tolerating it quite well.¡± ¡°I¡¯m surprised,¡± he said. ¡°Just how much crap do they show the¡ªow!¡± he yelped. ¡°¡­ the people in the cult?¡± he finished the question. ¡°Was this where you got the idea to do this?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± she confirmed, squeezing his calf with her thumb and finger to pull it down slightly. ¡°Children are taught about everything, pretty much,¡± she stated. ¡°The cult prizes information and knowledge above all else.¡± ¡°If anything, they got that right.¡± She nodded. ¡°Anyway, the last time I saw this procedure, it was done to one of the toughest people I knew.¡± She chuckled. ¡°And he was screaming so bad they had to gag him.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t get it,¡± he said. ¡°Why didn¡¯t they knock him out?¡± She glanced at him momentarily as if waiting for him to figure it out. ¡°Oh, yeah.¡± He suddenly remembered what she was hinting at. That wouldn¡¯t be possible since the only reason she could even do this to him was because he was giving his consent. The soul passively interfered with any essence that tried flowing into the body; thus, trying to forcefully inject it was a challenge. If that weren¡¯t the case, the mere touch of someone with the life affinity would be lethal. For the next several hours, Sophia worked tirelessly on fixing the parts of his body that she found suboptimal. Every time she ran out of essence, she dove into the Netherecho, where Bloodshed usually awaited with a few vestiges it had hunted down. She would then kill those vestiges to replenish part of her essence and then continue the procedure. Every time she did this, Freddy would spend his time stabbing his spark of undeath to continue healing. Never in his life, up until that point, had he witnessed his talent be so ineffective. But that made sense. It would take quite the monstrous essence control and knowledge of human anatomy to scramble someone¡¯s cells like this without causing total carnage. Sophia could relatively easily create the desired form, but as a consequence, she left behind a total mess of mangled tissue. Thankfully, his talent successfully healed him into perfect shape, but only if she worked her magic symmetrically. She had tried altering only one side of his body, but that resulted in his healing reverting the changes to mirror his healthy side. It was a fascinating process, and surprisingly, despite the copious reading he¡¯d done on the subject, it was a phenomenon he¡¯d never seen mentioned anywhere. Once they got into the swing of things, the procedure went smoothly. Emboldened, Sophia worked on implementing more drastic changes: fatter, denser bones, thicker skin, tougher tendons, sturdier, more spread-out veins. She was even confident that, once she became more capable, she could reform his nervous system to enhance his mind-body connection, but alas, as she was, she could do no such thing. She modified every single tendon insertion she could, drastically increasing the leverage his muscles had on his bones. Both his hips and shoulders were widened, and his overall bone structure was altered. If some muscles were too big, she cut them down, and if some were too small, either limited by his genetics or lack of focus during exercise, she made them more prominent. According to her, there was no such thing as the perfect height for martial arts, so she kept it as was. By the end, their work had resulted in more changes than anticipated. Freddy pulled out the machete and observed his body reflected in the metallic blade. He had to admit, the difference was immense. His whole form looked more full and intimidating, with rippling, clean muscles and veins as thick as roots and plentiful as cobwebs covering his skin. The once uneven six-pack was now a polished ten-pack. He didn¡¯t even know that a ten-pack was possible. Where there used to be a wide gap in the middle of his chest was now a tight line drawing the separation between his nearly square pecs. His neck was slightly shorter and as thick as a tree trunk; his feet, hands, ankles, and wrists were more prominent, and just from how he stood, he could tell that his entire form was far more stable. He looked firm yet agile. Strong yet dextrous. Deadly. ¡°Well,¡± he said, unable to restrain himself from chuckling. ¡°Fuck genetics, I guess.¡± He marveled at his form. ¡°Do we even need the steroids with a change like this?¡± Sophia wiped the waterfall of sweat pouring down her brow. Her exhaustion was evident, and she struggled to speak through her tightening throat. ¡°Check the¡­¡± she whispered between heavy breaths. ¡°Just¡­ try running around a bit, and let me know how you feel.¡± He nodded and did exactly that. Instantly, he noticed that something was off. Very, very, off. It was as if all his acquired muscle memory had become thoroughly useless. He moved less like a person and more like a puppet on strings. It was impossible to even walk straight. ¡°What the fuck!?¡± he shouted as he toppled to the ground. ¡°What the hell is happening to me?¡± She smirked. ¡°Did you expect a new body¡­ to be easy to use?¡± she asked rhetorically. ¡°You¡¯ve spent your whole life in the old shape¡­ it¡¯s only natural that you won¡¯t be used to it. Never mind that,¡± she said, breathing deeply and coughing a bit. ¡°You¡¯ll get used to it soon. I need you to tell me how you feel after that.¡± He swallowed a lump and nodded. For the next half hour, Sophia just focused on meditating. Her whole body was filled to the brim with rampant life essence from overusing her manipulation, and she had to settle herself and let it gradually evaporate. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. In that short time, Freddy nearly suffered a panic attack thrice. Feeling like a stranger in his own body was profoundly uncomfortable, and it was almost as if a phantom image of his old form kept overlapping with the new physique he had to master. But, as he kept fumbling, falling over, and getting up, that old image updated, and his body began listening to him. Slowly, he went from wildly swinging his limbs around to moving like a drunkard trying to swat a fly out of the air, and minutes later, although still quite slow, he could move relatively normally. Reaching that point was a relief, but it was a short-lived one. It didn¡¯t take long to realize what Sophia was aiming at. ¡°I get it,¡± he said, sighing. ¡°The muscles that were reduced in size are mostly working fine, but I can tell that the ones that were made bigger are much weaker now,¡± he shared what he felt. ¡°On top of that, every muscle that was altered in shape feels kind of loose, as if parts of it are softer than others.¡± ¡°Figures,¡± Sophia said as she opened her eyes and breathed out. ¡°Also, although you probably can¡¯t tell, the altered parts of your bones are more brittle now. But both issues can be fixed with some training and steroids.¡± He looked at her with a conflicted expression. ¡°Won¡¯t they ruin the balance again?¡± he asked. ¡°You know, if my muscles grow and all that?¡± ¡°The balance is fine,¡± she said, finally blinking the dazed look in her eyes away. ¡°Your muscles will grow evenly, and I¡¯ve made you a bit smaller overall, so there is space for more tissue that won¡¯t cause any trouble.¡± She walked over to him, inspecting his form. ¡°Although now I¡¯m starting to think that even if the steroids cause a problem, your talent will probably make it go away.¡± ¡°You think?¡± he asked. ¡°For sure,¡± she answered confidently. ¡°While it doesn¡¯t passively improve your body, it does remove any imperfections that are introduced. Thankfully, it doesn¡¯t undo helpful changes.¡± That was, in theory, exactly how supreme-quality healing worked. But¡­ neither of them had ever heard of anyone having access to this much supreme-quality healing, so it was no surprise that the theory had never been confirmed. ¡°Damn,¡± he said, spitting on the ground nearby. ¡°And all this time I¡¯ve been afraid of using steroids from fear of it making me too big.¡± ¡°That can still happen if you overdo it,¡± she interjected. ¡°The healing quality doesn¡¯t know what¡¯s good for fighting. It only tackles the changes that directly hinder natural function. Basically, if you keep it reasonable, you''ll be fine.¡± ¡°Duly noted,¡± he said, trying to salute her but hitting himself square in the eye instead. ¡°Ow, fuck!¡± Sophia giggled, finally straightening her posture. ¡°All right.¡± She clapped her hands. ¡°Now we go to the next step,¡± she said as she kicked him in the stomach, pushing him over to the ground. ¡°You fucking¡ª¡± He groaned as he got back up. ¡°You really are crazy, aren¡¯t you?¡± ¡°Feel free to hit me back. I won¡¯t get mad, I promise,¡± she teased with a sneer. ¡°If you can, that is.¡± ¡°Challenge accepted,¡± he said as he lunged at her¡ª And immediately tripped, falling face-first to the ground. *** Jacob stepped forth, walking back to the central passage with his party following behind him. They had all suffered quite drastic injuries and, after half a day of recovery, were doing well enough to return. Their condition was far from perfect, but they were ready to fight again. Theodore ignored a throbbing headache as he continuously used his ocular ability to scout the area around them. His vision zoomed in on details, and the contrast between different colors in his vision was as stark as the difference between night and day. If there was a camouflaged figure, his talent would spot their aura, but if traps were placed anywhere on the path, he had to spot them manually. When they set off on their trip back to the lobby, they had hoped that the attack against their party was a one-off deal, a kill squad sent to kneecap their team or to slaughter them altogether. But as they approached their target, those hopes became fainter by the second. Nobody was there. They had made their way through several quite popular zones, and not seeing anyone walking down these paths was highly unusual. The sickening notion that more of those assassins were running around and assaulting everyone settled in their gut, and Jacob¡¯s entire body was swimming in sweat. It would be horrible news for his family if that were the case. Most of his family members still living in this district were non-combat archhumans, with talented warriors mostly being sent off to work elsewhere or going off on their own. As much as he hated his father sometimes, Jacob knew that the old man had the best interest of his children at heart and always gave them the right to choose what they wanted to do with their lives. Jacob was one of the rare few who actually cared enough about his family to voluntarily stick around and establish himself locally. Few saw merit in doing that since Leonard would probably live forever, so it wasn¡¯t like someone would take the family business over any time soon. In any case, a terrorist attack on this scale would suck for everyone. Starting from legal issues to financial trouble to reputation, they would take a massive hit depending on the scale. Thankfully, he had seen no corpses anywhere yet, so he held onto the hope that everyone had already been evacuated¡ªa hope that was¡­ challenged once he spotted the massive crowd waiting outside the passage. ¡°What the hell¡­?¡± Theodore muttered. ¡°Is the passage blocked?¡± he asked, and everyone looked over, spotting the shimmering, undulating barrier. ¡°Let¡¯s find out,¡± Jacob said as he stepped forward. ¡°Everyone, listen!¡± he shouted, drawing the attention of only a few people in front of him. The sound of the crowd arguing was too loud for his words to reach far. He scowled. Jacob took a deep breath. Once he sucked in as much air as he could into his massive lungs, he roared with a deafening shout, ¡°May I have your attention, please!?¡± he screamed as politely as he could manage. His voice startled many, and some people even drew their weapons. But within a few seconds, the whole crowd was silenced. ¡°My name is Jacob Santorio!¡± he said. ¡°I am the son of Leonard Santorio and the highest authority currently present on the matters of this realm,¡± he asserted. ¡°I need you to step aside so I can examine what¡¯s happening with the passage.¡± People shifted out of the way. As soon as their party got a clear view, they walked forth. Theodore glanced at the crowd around them, his heart beating in his chest. He feared what he would see there, but he couldn¡¯t force himself to not look. And, moments later, he spotted her. Beatrice stood, her expression echoing with heartbreak, regret, and resentment as she stared back at him. Petra placed a hand on Beatrice¡¯s shoulder, comforting her, while Robert and Kyle, who stood behind her, shook their heads at him in disapproval. His heart clenched, and he tore his gaze away, unable to stop his lips from twisting into a deep frown. ¡°Who do you fuckers think you are?¡± he whispered into his chin. They kept moving forward and soon made it to the shimmering barrier. Jacob scowled. He pulled his fist back and threw a punch, empowering it with a Tectonic Strike. In one of the most explicit visual displays of how his talent functioned, a cobweb of cracks spread out from where his punch landed, but the same as it would be if he hit water, the damage disappeared immediately afterward. He prepared himself to throw another strike, this time with both stars activated, but someone stepped in. ¡°It¡¯s useless,¡± a blonde man with two nasty scars on his cheeks said. On his left, a woman with similar hair and a strong overall resemblance to the man stood, a large scar crossing through her left eye, the blue iris of which was paler than its counterpart. To their right, a man with a massive red mark on his head got off a small boulder and straightened his broad back, his brown hair trimmed short and his wide nose flaring. All three were inordinately tall and muscular, with miscellaneous scars scattered throughout their bodies. The central figure¡ªthe blonde man¡ªstood at almost the same height as Jacob himself. Jacob recognized them immediately. ¡°Jack,¡± he called the man in the middle. ¡°Haven¡¯t seen you in a while. What¡¯s happening here?¡± Jack scowled. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± he said. ¡°We returned here only half an hour ago, and this is what we found,¡± he shared, broadly gesturing at the scene around them. Jacob breathed deeply, ¡°Shit,¡± he cursed. ¡°I guess everyone tried themselves against this thing, then?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± he said. ¡°Some people still haven¡¯t given up on cracking it, but I can tell it won¡¯t be going down easily.¡± ¡°Mmmh,¡± Jacob hummed displeasurably, gritting his teeth. ¡°What do you see? Any hope?¡± ¡°I¡¯m afraid we¡¯re powerless,¡± Jack said, scowling at the barrier. ¡°The energy that holds the barrier active is turbulent by default, and anything short of a single attack powerful enough to break through won¡¯t do the job.¡± ¡°What if I gave it everything I had?¡± Jack¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°Even if you went double-star at it, stacked every boost and blessing we have available, the most you¡¯d achieve is blowing your arm up.¡± ¡°Fuck!¡± Jacob shouted, punching the barrier in frustration. He sighed deeply and turned to Jack, ¡°Did you spot anyone suspicious around¡ª¡± His words were interrupted by the sound of someone shouting. The shouting got worse as the two groups turned to face the commotion. Over every boulder and from behind every tree around them, figures in black cloaks emerged. Chapter 81 - Slaughter Not even a moment passed from the first scream until ten more sounded from the crowd''s edges. The sounds of explosions, flashes of colorful light, and the splattering of blood enveloped the entire area in pandemonium. Jacob immediately began shouting for his companions, the noise dying under the mass of screaming people. The delvers around them pushed each other around, scrambling over one another as they stampeded in every direction. Many rushed towards the passage to try to break through and escape. But it was pointless. The more powerful and experienced delvers tried forming their parties and breaking out of the mass of bodies, but they were vastly outnumbered by beginners who simply wanted to get out. He spotted Jack, the tall, blonde man with two scars on his cheeks, dragging his sister, Jean, the woman with the scar across her eye, out of the crowd with the help of Rick, the man with the massive red mark across his head. Suddenly, a human corpse flew right at the mass of bodies pressing against the blocked passage. A flash of light lit up, and with the dull, disgusting sound of human flesh splattering, the corpse exploded, killing nearly a dozen people. Blood and guts splashed over every single one of them, painting the whole area red with gore and shredded armor. All Jacob could hear was a muted buzzing, with explosions and screams breaking into his muffled mind like rocks through the surface of a pond. His eyes flickered, quickly spotting Theodore, Phillip, and Karen¡ªbut Rachel was nowhere to be found. His blood went cold for a moment, but he spotted her in the next second. Just as he was about to rush to her side, he saw her take a nasty hit by a cloaked figure, a kick that landed right on her midsection and threw her back further away from the mass of people. Panic sprung through his whole body. Rage burned in his chest, and he rushed forward. He knew that he should regroup, that without his team, there was little he could do, but he wasn¡¯t thinking about that. This was different. This wasn¡¯t an attack they had prepared and plotted for. Rather than allowing himself to calm down and assume the position of a strong leader or guide, at that moment, he was just a young man watching his lover get thrown into a mass of enemies. There was only one way he could respond. He rushed to save her. Rachel tumbled, then dropped into a shadow, using her talent to teleport behind one of the figures not too far from herself. She swung a dagger right at the man¡¯s back, but in the second before it landed, three phantasmal figures of pure flame appeared at her sides, looking much like the man she was about to assault, and stabbed shortswords right at her. She reacted in time to block two of the attacks, but the third stabbed into her ribs. Keeping her composure, she leaped back and dove into another shadow, but before she could get away, another figure, a giant of a man, threw a punch at her, and she lifted her daggers to at least try to defend herself. It was useless. The force of the attack effortlessly carried through her puny defense, shattering both her arms as the bulky man gripped her by the back of the head, pulled her body out of the shadow she had half-sunken into, and slammed her into a tree¡­ killing her instantly. Jacob froze. His thoughts slowed to a halt, and he watched with eyes wide open, mind uncomprehending. The sounds of explosions, flesh being torn, and bodies being crushed fell into the background as nothing but a high-pitched buzzing filled his ears. ¡°No¡­¡± he whispered, his knees shaking as his legs nearly gave out from under him. ¡°Jacob¡­¡± someone was shouting at him. ¡°Jacob!¡± Everything snapped back into place as he turned his head and faced Theodore. ¡°I understand!¡± Theodore shouted. ¡°But grieve later!¡± Theodore pointed to another section where Karen struggled to defend herself against a cloaked, bulky figure swinging a massive sword at her. Phillip was working overtime to keep her safe as she seemed to be freezing up. Numerous people were dying around them as explosions and projectiles tore people into pieces, with anyone who was trying to escape the encirclement getting picked off by skilled fighters. The situation was growing more desperate by the second. ¡°Fuck!¡± Jacob barked after a moment of hesitation as he rushed to help his party members, Theodore by his side. The two of them reached Phillip and Karen in the next moment, and with their presence, the bulky figure backed away, swinging their sword to the side as they continued killing other, weaker delvers. Jacob shouted at them, throwing out standard orders while the others listened impatiently, constantly glancing around them to see whether anyone was directly attacking them. Theodore swallowed a lump as he looked around, failing to spot his former party. He forced himself to take his mind off them and refocused on Jacob¡¯s orders. Jacob barely knew what to do, and his words kept slurring. ¡°Shit!¡± he shouted. ¡°We don¡¯t have time to organize! Just¡­ get into a fucking formation already!¡± he spluttered in a panic. A cloaked figure leaped out of the woods on the other side of the battlefield. She was clearly a woman based on her build, and from her back, a giant scorpion stinger appeared, stabbing at those trying to escape, tearing people into pieces with incredible force. A man wielding an axe leaped at her, his weapon enveloped in a golden glow as he prepared to swing the empowered strike down on her head. The woman¡¯s stinger flicked, knocking the axe right out of the man¡¯s hands, then pierced right through his chest. The man hung by the stinger, his arms growing limp as a considerable amount of venom seeped into his body, and a second later, the woman moved her tail to slam him into a nearby tree with incredible force, shattering his body and dropping him to the ground. From her side, Rachel¡¯s killer stomped his foot down, sending a shockwave that shifted the earth beneath another man¡¯s foot. The man tried defending himself, raising a shield to block the incoming attack. The giant cloaked brawler aimed right at the defense and slammed into it. The shield didn¡¯t budge, but the arms of the man on the other side exploded into gory pieces; a second later, a crescent moon-shaped flying strike cleaved his head off his shoulders. Above them, another cloaked man floated into the air, levitating above the crowds as he fired stone bullets at the people below and swooped down, taking heads off with his shortsword. Suddenly, a tall woman with blonde hair and a scar over her eye jumped up from the crowds, the wind moving about her in a way that propelled her forward as she stabbed an impossibly quick rapier jab at the levitating man. Just as the attack was about to land, the man just barely moved his shortsword before him to block and used the force of her attack to let himself be propelled further up into the sky. The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. The woman¡ªJean, Jack¡¯s sister¡ªdropped to the ground and straightened, her heavily repaired armor gleaming under the false sun, speckled with the blood and guts of dead delvers. From her side, Jack, her brother, the incredibly tall, blonde man, jumped forward, racing toward the cloaked figures with Rick by his side. Jacob and his party stood in formation, waiting for an opportunity, but when the corpse of a woman exploded near them, splattering them all in more boiled blood, they realized that they had to choose right then and there whether to run or fight. There were only around 20 enemies, compared to a bit over 100 delvers. But the delvers¡¯ numbers were no advantage, as most of them were rookies who were, if anything, making it more difficult for the more experienced crews to organize. The rabble was thinning rapidly, and before long, fewer than 50 delvers remained, allowing them to see a much clearer image of the battlefield. And what they saw made one thing crystal clear¡ªthe only way they were making an escape was by fighting their way through the encirclement of opponents, few of whom were easy targets. Theodore¡¯s eyes bulged as he observed the cultists before them. They all exuded a threatening aura, with even the weakest of their opponents glowing with a sinister red light. But there was another figure. A short man whose aura shone pure black¡ªhe didn¡¯t move. The man stood impassive, observing the battlefield, his face partly hidden beneath the hood of a cloak. One of the random delvers, a woman carrying a small sword, rushed at the man, and all he did in response was raise his hand; a thin, near-instantaneous jet of water pulsed into the incoming woman¡¯s head, and she dropped dead to the ground a second later. Shivers ran down Theodore¡¯s spine. That man was a water mage. Anyone who could effectively use water magic was not to be trifled with. Yet another corpse exploded beside them, with most of the power blocked by Phillip, who timely intervened. They nodded at each other without further ado and rushed forward, jumping into the fray. One of the cloaked figures ran at Jacob, gleaming blades of blood protruding out of their hands as they leaped and stabbed down. Theodore sent a minuscule pulse at the attacker¡¯s eye, blinding them for a mere moment as Jacob landed a punch on their chest, shattering their entire body like an ice sculpture, the display only second to the gory image of yet another corpse exploding not too far from where they stood. A metal ding sounded from right before Jacob''s face as Theodore just barely flicked a red ball of toxic blood away before it could strike him in the eye. Jacob released a shivering breath as he looked over to the person who had fired the projectile. Around 20 meters ahead of him stood a woman, a tall man, and the short figure Theodore identified as the greatest threat among them. The woman was firing bloody projectiles, while her talent seemingly allowed her to raise shimmering, transparent barriers wherever she pleased, and the tall man was the fire mage responsible for the exploding corpses. Karen rushed at the short water mage, choosing to take him out of the fight as quickly as possible. But her movement was frantic, desperate. ¡°Wait!¡± shouted Theodore, watching in panic as he saw the inexperienced woman on the verge of making a massive blunder. The blood mage woman summoned a barrier before Karen, and before she could even swing her sword to cut through, the bulky figure she had been fighting before reappeared, swinging a massive sword at her back. Phillip jumped just in time to block the attack, only for a bloated, glowing corpse to land right between him and Karen the next moment. Karen jumped back swiftly enough to get outside the effective range of the attack, but Phillip was forced to block with his shield at nearly point-blank. The force of the impact couldn¡¯t be redirected. There was nowhere for him to send it. It knocked him flying back as he tumbled across the dry soil and away from his party. Just as he got up, a massive arrow flew right into his armored head. With the metallic clank of the arrowhead meeting his helmet, his head whipped back, and he raised a hand to pull the arrow out as he looked over to his attacker. The arrow was stuck. Two figures stood beside one another, one swinging a whip at him while the other prepared another arrow. He blocked the whip with his shield, but the arrow looped around his defense and hit him in the head again. Thankfully, the attack wasn¡¯t potent enough to pierce his metallic skull, but it hit hard enough to embed itself into it, and the force of the impact was potent enough to daze him. Phillip started running back to his party, but before he could make it anywhere near them, three golems of ice ran forward, standing between him and his party. They didn¡¯t look too threatening, and anyone in his party could handle them. But to him, who specialized in defense, they were virtually an impenetrable barrier. Karen relied on her air affinity to move at incredible speed and relied on her superior mobility to evade the numerous attacks flying at her. She felt helpless, like a fish on dry land. Her instincts and muscle memory kicked in whenever an attack was flying at her, but she was surrounded by bloody, mangled corpses and severed body pieces. The battlefield around her looked like hell. She had endured rigorous training and seen many such things in videos her clan showed her. She truly believed she would be ready to stand firm if she ever found herself in a situation like this. But those recordings never portrayed the overwhelming metallic smell of soil and blood. The screams all around her. A chunk of someone¡¯s flesh flew into her mouth, and she spat it out. She had never been splattered in blood and guts from head to toe. And from every single fight she had participated in, even the bloodiest, most difficult ones, she had never faced a scenario that began with one of her party members getting brutally murdered. Despite her incredible speed, the bulky figure was nearly capable of keeping up despite wielding a sword at least five times heavier than Karen¡¯s. Her opponent¡¯s skill was tremendous but inferior to her own, but the constant barrage of bloody projectiles and shards of ice made Karen feel blind and dazed; she didn¡¯t know where to look or what to pay attention to. It wasn¡¯t long until stray projectiles started landing glancing blows, and poison started flowing through her blood. As time passed, she found herself dodging the incoming blows and projectiles by smaller and smaller margins, with each new attack getting closer to causing severe damage. Jacob and Theodore stood alone before four opponents. Standing to the left was the woman who could conjure barriers and throw projectiles of toxic blood. To her right was the tall, skinny man who was beginning to run out of corpses and now supplemented his attacks with regular fireballs. Yet another melee fighter had appeared from the crowd that grew thinner by the second, rushing at them from behind. Meanwhile, the water mage had yet to make his move. Jacob was forced to orient on the incoming man. The melee fighter approaching them wielded a mace and rushed at the two of them with reckless abandon while the two casters continuously pelted them with attacks. Jacob observed the trajectory of the incoming mace swing and stepped back, preparing himself to kick the opponent in the torso to end the fight. But¡ª ¡°Watch out!¡± Theodore screamed as Jacob¡¯s head whipped back, only to see a portal of reflective water conjure right in the middle of the air. Head-first, with half his torso pushed through, appeared the short water mage, his hood just barely revealing a wicked grin beneath Every cell in Jacob¡¯s body screamed at him as he moved his body away from the man, who raised his hand and fired a Pressure Jet at Jacob¡¯s stomach. The burst of water reached Jacob, stabbing right into his gut and causing a powerful burst of agony to jolt through his torso, and in the next second, a spiked mace slammed right into the middle of his back. He yelped, his Stone Skin and Hundred Wet Hells just barely stopping the attack from damaging his spine. Jacob wheeled and grabbed the man by the arm as he kicked him in the side. The clang of metal rang out as the mace-wielder reeled, flying back a few steps. Stone Skin and Metal Bones had protected the mace-wielder. Jacob¡¯s teeth clenched. That was too much defense for his talent to end the man in one blow, but he had caused plenty of damage. Theodore fired a pulse of blinding light, restricting the water mage¡¯s vision and forcing him to fall back before he could capitalize on Jacob¡¯s distraction. Jacob had to dodge several attacks again, but he was determined to get the mace wielder out of the fight. However, to his horror, the mace-wielder rushed at a few helpless delvers and started swinging. Three lives were extinguished in mere moments, and once the deed was done, the mace-wielder stood a bit straighter as if the damage from Jacob¡¯s attack was gone. On-kill Healing, Jacob realized, cursing under his breath as he dodged a ball of fire flying at his face. Chapter 82 - Carnage Jack glanced across the battlefield, barely keeping himself calm. This wasn¡¯t his first time finding himself in a gruesome life-or-death scenario. But he had never witnessed such a brutal slaughter. Still, for better or worse, the same instincts kicked in. He, his sister, Jean, and their best friend, Rick, witnessed many tragedies. Throughout their years together, they had seen many of their party members perish, and eventually, they no longer had the heart to invite any more people into their fold. But the three of them? When push came to shove, they thrived. And when shove came to stab, they always made it out. His sister ran past him, using brief bursts of wind to push several delvers out of the way of incoming attacks. She ran forth, meeting one of the cloaked figures in combat. It was a man who seemed to possess a strength-boosting talent, a powerful one, as could be judged by the cumbersome armor and sword he wielded. Unfortunately for him, he met Jean in combat. The man swung his massive sword at the lithe, tall Jean, swinging it in an impressively tight arc, closing virtually all escapes. Jean merely flicked his massive strike aside with her thin rapier as if it weighed nothing. Her talent¡ªParry¡ªcould parry almost any blow as long as it wasn¡¯t overwhelmingly above her power level. And she could use her talent even with a feather, let alone a rapier. The man¡¯s panic was evident as his sword bounced off the thin weapon, but it was pointless. Negative Pressure pulled Jean¡¯s weapon along, pushing her rapier forward in the blink of an eye as it stabbed into the thin slit in the helmet beneath the hood the man was cloaked under. And just like that, he was dead. Jack brought his attention back to himself as the levitating figure flew over his head, thrusting a swift shortsword as the wind carried him forward. With minimal effort, Jack stepped aside without even looking directly, and the flying man tumbled forward, landing on the ground. An illusory blade swung at the now grounded man, forcing him to block, only to realize a second too late that Jack hadn¡¯t even moved yet. In the blink of an eye, powered by a Hydraulic Flex, Jack¡¯s shortsword flicked the man across the neck but failed to cut deep enough to finish the job. Jack pushed forward, using illusions to keep the man too preoccupied to risk taking to the air again. A second later, a flying strike flew at Jack, flung by a cloaked woman waiting deeper in the forest. Jack was forced to duck under it, but he was already attacking again, thrusting his sword into an opening, only for a woman clad in shadow to raise her hand, conjuring a small black disc that swallowed the force behind his strike. The tip of his blade barely touched the floating, black object, but all the momentum behind his strike simply vanished as if he hadn¡¯t even been moving at all. A second later, a dark, coiling tentacle tried wrapping itself around his leg but moved through the illusory limb, revealing Jack¡¯s actual leg, which was grounded in an entirely different spot. He leaped back and took in his opponents. Rick pulled his short hammers out, swinging his arms, which stretched to the length of three to four meters in wild swings. The man was trying to provide aid to Jack but pulled back as he was overwhelmed by three other opponents. Before Rick stood a giant of a man whose strikes seemed to carry through weapons and shields into the arms of those holding them, a man whose talent conjured phantasmal, fiery copies of himself that swung at anyone trying to get close, and a woman with a scorpion stinger tail growing out her back. Rick had tempered his arms with life affinity to stretch them like that, thus they weren¡¯t as susceptible to the giant''s destructive power. Still, despite Rick keeping his distance from the nimble scorpion-woman and bulky man, the man with phantasmal bodyguards was throwing projectiles of fire his way, and not all of them could be cleanly dodged under pressure. These three were far too powerful for Rick to hold alone against them. ¡°Jean!¡± Jack yelled. ¡°Cover for me!¡± he shouted as he suddenly vanished. All of their opponents froze, instantly noticing that he had disappeared. He couldn¡¯t hold Invisibility for long as he simply didn¡¯t have the essence reserves, but luckily, he didn¡¯t have to. A mere second later, after a wild leap with Hydraulic Flex, Jack reappeared, standing less than a foot away from the man defended by phantasmal copies of himself. The fiery phantoms reacted instantly, skewering Jack, while the shadowy disc appeared to block his attack. As the phantasmal shortswords embedded themselves into the illusion Jack created, and the shadowy disc stood in the way of no actual attack, Jack stabbed a sword through the back of the phantom-user¡¯s head, taking him out of the fight. Jean used the momentum of the man¡¯s death to rush at the shadow-user who was blocking their attacks. The woman couldn¡¯t use her talent too often, so she was forced to back away, melting into the forest''s shadows as the woman who stood further back threw more flying strikes at Jean, and the levitating man fired bullets of stone. The two ranged attackers held her back long enough for the shadow-user to conjure another Black Mirror, yet Jean used her Parry as she struck the mirror, causing a direct clash between two attack-nullifying talents. Her gamble only half paid off. Parry was enough to make the disc vanish, but it wasn¡¯t enough to stop it from negating her momentum all the same, and this time, she was forced to take a nasty stone bullet to her shoulder as she hopped back, relying on her mobility to create some space, but the pressure was on, and one projectile after another locked her down, forcing her to expend her essence on dodging and defending herself, her Parry the only thing keeping her alive against the barrage of flying strikes. Jack put his trust in his sister as she kept those three preoccupied, and he relied on Rick to hold the giant down while he lunged at the scorpion-tailed woman. Hydraulic Flex launched him forward with a few quick leaps, and before long, he was dueling the woman. She moved with a grace that was only possible with her tail''s counterbalance and continuously thrust her stinger at him. This woman was bad news. Despite only relying on her tail, which was undoubtedly a function of her talent, she was more than skilled enough to keep him at bay. He couldn¡¯t haphazardly rely on his illusions¡ªhis essence reserves were already half-empty, but the woman wasn¡¯t even using a weapon, let alone her essence. With his talent, he sensed the presence of the levitating man behind him and dodged the Stone Bullet as he shifted to the side without even looking. But the man was flying at him without stopping as if he intended to tackle him. With the levitating man leaving her to the shadow user and the woman who kept launching flying strikes, Jean finally caught an opportunity to rush past them and launch herself to help her brother, but a shadow mirror blocked her attack again. Simply forcing the shadow mage to use her talent was enough to let Jack retaliate and slip past the scorpion stinger, but with that, although safe for the time being, they were both on the back foot. With a glance, he checked on how his best friend was doing Short hammers flew in tight arcs, but with almost dismissive ease, the giant of a man met them fist-first and judging by the blood spewing from Rick¡¯s hands, he couldn¡¯t hold his own for much longer. On the other side of the battlefield, Karen kept stumbling, continuously being pushed back by her berserk foe. Red Venom coursed through her veins, sending constant pangs of agony throughout her entire body as icy projectiles drew even more blood. She thought of her grandfather, seeing his face morph into the picture of disappointment in her mind¡¯s eye and the image of her brother sneering at her. How cowardly was she? How pathetic? Despite facing an inferior foe, she kept stumbling, allowing herself to be swept up in the tides of battle. And why? Because she was afraid to spend too much essence? Her foot suddenly slipped from beneath her. She stepped on someone¡¯s spilled guts, falling back first into a pile of gore. The world around her slowed to a halt. Her cowardice warred with a lifetime of conditioning, and she felt the draw to just give up, allowing her opponent to swing their blade down on her head. Perhaps she would have settled for that if it was her life alone. But it wasn''t. As the massive blade swung down at her, her arm twitched. Her talent, Sword Saint, blessed her attacks with a preternatural cutting ability and force¡­ but only if she struck with the skill worthy of the title. Letting the screams and the sounds of war fall into the background, she focused on the weapon in her hand. With a single, fluid swing, her sword met the incoming attack. With a clang, her thin saber split her opponent''s sword in two. Without hesitation, she expelled nearly half of her remaining essence on an omnidirectional burst of wind, blowing her opponent away and raising her off the ground and back up to her feet. As soon as she landed, she rushed her opponent, who now swung only half a sword around. The match was decided¡ªor so she thought. But in the next instant, a portal of water appeared beside her feet, and the grinning figure of the sinister water mage popped out, reaching his arm out to most likely sever her leg with a Pressure Jet. Panic threatened to overwhelm her, but a dagger flew out of nowhere, forcing the mage to cancel his spell and pull his arm back. It was an attack by Phillip, who she could hear scream as he likely accepted a blow in turn to save her. Gritting her teeth, she ignored the water mage, who was already out of range, and leaped at the bulky figure before her. With a single, elegant swing, she cut their hand off, then their whole arm, and finally, the head. In the next moment, she leaped back and dodged the incoming shard of ice that threatened to pierce her skull. She dashed again, evading several icy projectiles as she made her way over to the ice mage. The man conjured a shield of ice, but no matter how thick, it was insufficient against a perfect thrust that pierced through the defense and straight through the man¡¯s forehead. She could hear the sounds of the massive golems collapsing not too far from her, and she turned to see how the rest of her team was doing. Even though Theodore had both the light and holy affinities, neither provided a substantial way to boost one¡¯s physical prowess; yet, he dodged numerous projectiles, relying on his perception abilities to prevent even a single one from reaching him. That man¡¯s talent and drive were unlike anything she had ever seen, even among her fellow clansmen, apart from her older brother. Yet he was old. Withering. Had he been born in a mighty clan, Theodore would no doubt already be a star. But even as a brown dwarf, he shone bright enough that it was dazzling. Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. Theodore ducked under another bloody projectile and leaped back to get outside the radius of another fireball as he once more dodged a shard of Red Venom. He was getting tired. Some of the bloody projectiles were starting to graze him, but his Sacred Temple tempering technique prevented the poison from doing any substantial damage. Still, he couldn¡¯t hold on for long. They were on the back foot, and although they had seemingly regained some momentum in the last few moments, they had expended far too much to get there. Jacob was severely hurt, and so was Phillip. Karen had burned through most of her essence, and Theodore was on the brink of passing out from exhaustion. He looked over to where his old party was fighting, unable to resist keeping track of how they were doing. His heart dropped. He watched a cloaked figure sever Robert¡¯s arm off as an explosion burned Kyle¡¯s side. Beatrice and Petra kept throwing attacks with a few other delvers, but their enemies were far superior, and the rabble dropped like flies. ¡°Brave of you to look away,¡± a voice whispered from his back, and Theodore moved his head aside just in time to dodge a Pressure Jet that would have pierced his skull. Theodore swung his sword at the portal of water, trying to cut the seemingly impressed water mage¡¯s head off, but before he could reach, a transparent barrier blocked his blow, allowing the water caster to escape and leaving Theodore to dodge yet another projectile and once more leap outside the range of an explosive attack. As long as the woman with the barriers still stood, their odds of winning this fight were nonexistent. The water caster could pop up anywhere and kill anyone if they dropped their guard, and with her around, attacking the mage in turn was almost impossible. Perhaps Karen or Jacob could manage, but they were both running out of steam, and soon enough, they would fall unless something changed. He glanced over at Jacob. The stern, massive leader looked¡­ desperate. Jacob¡¯s face was contorted in agony as he tried fighting back by firing stone bullets and throwing fireballs, but there was no use. The man was a brawler, first and foremost, but with his massive body and talent, his lack of mobility and reach was lethal. The mace wielder could take one or two attacks from Jacob and trade another two, backing away each time to kill a straggler to heal the damage he took. While the mace wielder had run out of targets, it didn¡¯t matter. Jacob was mangled. His whole body was bleeding, and one of his eyes was closed. It would be a different story if Theodore could afford to bless the man, but as it was, if he even tried, he¡¯d die as soon as he did so since Phillip wasn¡¯t there to keep them safe from counterattacks. The tall, skinny man jogged to another corpse and prepared to throw it at Theodore. Theodore had no way to defend himself from the attack; from the enemy¡¯s perspective, it was over for him. Unfortunately for them, this wasn¡¯t the first time Theodore had been trapped with seemingly no escape. If there was any one thing he excelled at, it was seeing that which nobody else could. As soon as the skinny man ignited the corpse and threw it forward, Theodore was already running at it. The slim man seemed surprised as Theodore¡¯s move looked like nothing but suicide. But he wasn¡¯t aiming to kill himself. His eyes shot wide open. He activated True Gaze. He saw the flying, burning corpse, its trajectory, how it would fly and spin, and pulled his sword out. While it was still flying in the air, Theodore stabbed the shortsword through the dead man¡¯s forearm, lodging it between the bones as he grabbed the handle with one hand and the blade with the other, then, pushing his two-star physique to its absolute limit, he pivoted on the ball of his foot and pulled back, swinging the corpse around his body as his the blade cut into his fingers, and before the corpse could explode, he threw it right back at the fire caster, who watched the whole thing happen with his eyes wide open. The moment Theodore saw the shimmering barrier manifest to protect the fire mage from the exploding corpse, he was already turning around and charging his Piercing Beam. He aimed it behind Jacob¡¯s back, seemingly firing at nothing, but in the next moment, a water portal manifested out of thin air. The Piercing Beam swallowed the remainder of Theodore¡¯s essence, but it was worth it, as the water caster¡¯s eye was struck dead-on, and the sneer was wiped off his face as he screamed. Jacob heard the scream, saw the beam, and turned around, spotting the water caster. There was no shield to protect the man and no time for him to pull back through the portal. Jacob¡¯s arm shot forward, gripping the water caster by his hair as he pulled him into his knee, shattering the man¡¯s face and killing him instantly. The portal behind the man collapsed, severing his body in half, and with half a corpse in his hand, Jacob swung it around, throwing it at the mace-wielder who was attacking again. Fire burned beneath Jacob¡¯s skin as he punched the water caster¡¯s body, shattering it into a rain of gore that obscured the mace-wielder¡¯s vision. Through the mist of blood, Jacob¡¯s arm flew forward, gripping the mace-wielder around the neck as Jacob¡¯s other hand grabbed the mace by the spikes and pulled it out of the man¡¯s grasp. ¡°Resist this, you piece of shit!¡± Jacob screamed as he headbutted the mace-wielder, cracking the man¡¯s forehead apart and spilling his brains. Back on the other side of the battlefield, Jack was beginning to realize that they were fighting a lost fight. If they kept going any further, before long, they would run out of essence and get overwhelmed. ¡°Retreat!¡± he shouted, jumping back as he fled from the attackers. His sister was already running ahead of him, but Rick was stuck trying to shake the giant man off. Suddenly, Jack¡¯s entire body simply came to a halt, as if someone had erased all the momentum carrying him. He looked down. His eyes widened as he spotted his foot standing on the Black Mirror. An intense feeling of danger sparked on the back of his neck as he felt a powerful energy flying right at him. The levitating fighter was rushing at him to finish him off. But suddenly, the energy was steered off course. He turned around. Rick¡¯s arm had elongated and wrapped around the levitating man¡¯s leg. But as Jack watched, the giant slammed Rick straight into the torso. For a long moment, Jack couldn¡¯t breathe. He couldn¡¯t move. Panic overwhelmed him as he realized he was about to watch another person die for his sake. But he knew that it was too late. If he hesitated any longer, his friend would perish for nothing. Gritting his teeth hard enough that he felt one crack, he moved his foot off the black disc and continued forward, rushing after his sister and running to the other side of the battlefield. His eyes scanned the battlefield. Only two other battles were still going on. One was a gory sight of numerous corpses, where there had likely been too few elites to stand a proper chance. On the other side were Jacob and his party, who were on the back foot but rapidly recovering. Karen dashed over to Phillip, who was fighting against two people. Both were air-affinity archs, one wielding a long whip and the other a bow, both natural enemies to Phillip. To Karen, however, they were nothing but fodder. With two quick dashes, she evaded the arrows that curved to home into her body and cut the head off the archer. In the next moment, she severed the whip that tried to flick her sword out of her hand, and Phillip threw a metal dagger to finish the job. The two of them regrouped¡ªPhillip¡¯s helmet was like a hedgehog, with several arrows having penetrated through it and into his skull. His armor was cracked all over the spots he was forced to receive blows by the whip he hadn¡¯t been fast enough to dodge, but other than that, he was doing fine enough. They ran over to Theodore, just in time for Phillip to block a projectile that would have killed the man. Theodore looked terrible¡ªpale, his body sagging like a rotten apple. Jacob was bathed in blood but didn¡¯t let that stop him as he dashed, lunging at the two remaining foes. The woman desperately conjured barriers, but those were near-useless against Jacob, who shattered them with two strikes a piece and continued forward. The two casters were trying to look intimidating, but with how many spells they had thrown into the mix, both were guaranteed to be either out of essence or close enough that it didn¡¯t matter, with likely only satellites keeping them from completely running out. They tried pulling weapons out, but Jacob¡¯s fists shattered their swords, and with a single, visceral punch, he broke the woman¡¯s head apart like a watermelon and crushed the chest of the tall corpse-thrower. With that out of the way, their path was clear. They turned around. Jacob spotted Jack and Jean running from several foes, Rick nowhere to be seen. Theodore desperately looked over to the other fight, and as soon as he did, he despaired. Kyle and Robert were dead, their bodies barely recognizable in the pile of corpses. Petra and Beatrice were still among the few standing, mainly because they had both stuck to the backline, but they were burned and bleeding. He watched one of the cloaked casters conjure a fireball, only to compress it into the size of a tiny bead. There was nobody left to defend the two girls. His body was weak, yet at that moment, he felt like he could dash across the whole field to save them. Before he knew it, he was already running, but it was far too late. The compressed bead flew right at Beatrice, but Petra threw herself at it before it could hit her. The projectile exploded as soon as it touched the woman¡¯s body, sending her flying right at Beatrice and knocking both of them halfway to where he was. What followed was a second of silence as everything crawled to a halt. Fear wrapped around his throat like a snake, and his breath halted, waiting for a sign. Beatrice¡¯s shrill scream echoed through the battlefield in the next moment. Theodore experienced a dizzying blend of horror and relief as he rushed to her. She was so bloody. Open wounds littered her whole body, and she hiccuped and choked as she shook Petra¡¯s charred corpse, desperately looking for any signs of life. Shivers made their way down Theodore¡¯s spine as he saw the disfigured image of Petra. The force of the blow had blown her eyeballs out of their sockets, and her jaw hung limp, broken, open so wide she could swallow his very soul. But he ignored her. Beatrice was still alive. ¡°We have to go!¡± he shouted, pulling her back. ¡°Let me go!¡± she screamed in outrage. ¡°Petra! Petra! Someone!¡± she shouted. ¡°Someone heal her!¡± she shrieked until her throat gave out. Try as he may, Theodore was too weak to tear the desperate Beatrice apart from Petra. ¡°Fucking hell!¡± he yelled as he punched Beatrice to knock her out. She was knocked back but remained conscious, staring at him in horror as he threw another three punches to get her to stop moving. She wasn¡¯t even unconscious¡ªhe had simply dazed her too much to resist. ¡°Shit, shit, shit,¡± he cursed as he lifted her up on his back and ran after his allies. He was slow. He felt slower and more tired than ever before in his life. His vision grew blurry, and before long, he dropped to the ground. Someone lifted the weeping, bleeding Beatrice off his body and dragged her on, and a moment later, someone lifted him as well. Phillip carried the unconscious woman while Karen raised Theodore, carrying him on her back as they followed Jacob into the woods. Jack and Jean followed after them, and moments later, the few survivors other than the two spotted the escape and ran. Several of them were picked off, but four people managed to join the two parties on their way out. Everyone who had access to them drank elixir recovery potions. Those that could be used in combat were incredibly expensive, and nobody there had access to them. No, the ones they used needed time to settle; they had to be mixed with a bit of gathering to dilute the external essence with natural essence. Using the raw essence could cause soul damage, but nobody cared. Soul damage was better than death. None of the survivors really believed that they were safe, but to everyone¡¯s surprise, as soon as they were in the woods, the cloaked figures stopped their pursuit. Perhaps they were going to recover first and then hunt them down. But maybe others were waiting. Maybe they were heading to their deaths. They pushed through the forest, obliterating any gorels they came across without any care, as they had no reason to preserve the bodies. After a long, tense half-hour of running, Theodore, Jacob, Karen, Phillip, Beatrice, Jack, and Jean, followed by four strangers, made their way into the passage realm Jacob and his party had hunted in earlier that day. Jacob, Phillip, and two strangers used their earth affinity to create a makeshift blockade, although nobody had high hopes for its defensive properties. Thoroughly exhausted, with numerous severe injuries, low resources, and no healers other than Theodore present, few among them were optimistic about their chances of survival. *** The cloaked figures watched the delvers escape into the woods, confusion seared into their expressions. Among the fleeing people, there was a figure they were surprised to see. ¡°Why is he with them?¡± the giant man asked. ¡°Wasn¡¯t the plan to kill everyone?¡± A fully armored man was running beside the other delvers. His armor was covered in blood and gore, but if anyone had been watching, it would have been clear that he had contributed nothing to the ongoing battle other than half-heartedly defending against the occasional attack. ¡°If he is with them,¡± the scorpion-tailed woman said as she whipped her tail to flick the blood off, ¡°then he must have a reason for it. It is not our place to question him. Let them go,¡± she said, turning around. ¡°Let us rejoin the others. We must continue with our plans.¡± Chapter 83 - Indecision ¡°Can you hear that?¡± Freddy asked as he interrupted their sparring. Sophia was still a one-star, so her perception wasn¡¯t as high as Freddy¡¯s. He had also used quite a bit of that perception medicine, making him extra sensitive. ¡°I think I can hear¡­ explosions. In the distance,¡± he said, scowling. ¡°It¡¯s that way.¡± He pointed roughly in the direction of the center of the realm. Sophia opened her mouth, but¡ª ¡°Wait, shh.¡± He raised his finger to his lips as he focused. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m certain. Can you hear anything?¡± ¡°¡­ No?¡± she denied hesitantly, squinting in the direction Freddy was looking in. As she did that, her eyes shot wide open, and she ran forward to climb a nearby tree. ¡°Holy crap¡­¡± she breathed out. ¡°What is it?¡± he asked. Sophia covered her mouth with one hand, gagging. ¡°Oh, I think I¡¯m gonna throw up,¡± she said. ¡°What!?¡± he yelled. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± ¡°The sky¡­ Everything is pink.¡± Freddy¡¯s throat seized up. ¡°Oh¡­ shit¡­¡± he cursed. ¡°Above the passage?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± she confirmed, looking away and closing her eyes while breathing heavily. ¡°How many¡­? It¡¯s everyone who gathered in the middle, isn¡¯t it?¡± She nodded. Freddy breathed heavily and bent over, resting his hands on his knees as he stared into the soil. The sounds of explosions grew more explicit in his ears, deafening silence overwhelming everything else. The blasts sounded¡­ dull. Wet. Before long, he heard screaming, too. Shouting. The sounds of steel mashing. The sounds of people dying. ¡°Are you okay?¡± Freddy jolted as he looked up at Sophia, who was watching him with a concerned gaze. His face was pale, and he was covered in sweat. ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± he said, slumping into a crouch. ¡°Should we continue?¡± he asked, but Sophia remained silent, watching him for a long moment. ¡°Come on, now,¡± he said as he tried cheering up a bit. ¡°We knew this was going to happen. Does it change anything?¡± ¡°Freddy,¡± she cut in. ¡°The life force I¡¯m seeing¡­¡± She slowly turned her face in the direction of the passage. ¡°A lot of people are dying.¡± ¡°So what!?¡± he shouted, catching himself immediately after and swallowing his desire to scream in panic. ¡°We are going to be next if we don¡¯t prepare.¡± She stared at him, and then her eyes slowly drifted to the ground beneath his feet. ¡°Should we bury ourselves?¡± ¡°Is it going to work?¡± ¡°¡­ It could.¡± ¡°Are you satisfied with ¡®could¡¯? You really want to roll the dice with whether we live or not?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t,¡± she spat, quieting for a long moment. ¡°I don¡¯t.¡± Freddy pursed his lips, gritting his teeth. Their survival wasn¡¯t guaranteed, no matter what they did. But knowing danger was coming was one thing. Hearing it¡ªseeing it¡ªwas another. ¡°We¡¯ve already established that hiding is a stupid idea,¡± he said. ¡°Even if the cult doesn¡¯t find us, we have no goddamn clue what¡¯s going to come in through the unsealed passages, and if we¡¯re dug out at that point, we are screwed.¡± She winced. ¡°Look,¡± he said as he finally got up from the crouch and stretched to his full height. ¡°I know how you feel.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t know anything.¡± He grabbed her arm by the wrist, and she looked up at him. ¡°Yes, I do,¡± he said, staring her right in the eye. ¡°You could have been standing among those people and slaughtering the innocent by the dozen.¡± She tore her gaze away from him and tried pulling back, but he gripped harder. ¡°But you¡¯re not,¡± he asserted. ¡°You ran away. You saw what they were; you knew what they could do and wanted no part of it. What, are you ashamed that you were born as one of them?¡± ¡°That has nothing to do with it!¡± she screamed, thrashing her hair and breaking into tears as she pulled back with her strength and tore her arm from his grip. ¡°They¡¯re¡­ They were my family!¡± she said, taking several steps back as she shook. She clasped her palm to her forehead as she sobbed, turning around to face the other way. ¡°I know those people. I don¡¯t want to fight them,¡± she said. ¡°I don¡¯t want to kill them. I don¡¯t¡­¡± Freddy¡¯s gaze grew cold. He watched her back without any sympathy. ¡°You might be seeing some pink mist, but you aren¡¯t hearing what I am,¡± he stated, taking a step forward. ¡°I hear the sounds of flesh being torn, people being blown apart.¡± She winced. ¡°They aren¡¯t just killing, Sophia.¡± He walked up to where she stood, looming behind her back. ¡°Do you want to go see what your ¡®family¡¯ is up to?¡± Silence descended between them. Sophia shivered in his shadow, barely suppressing her sobs. ¡°I¡¯ve seen videos of what their operations look like,¡± she said, slowly turning around to face him. Her eyes appeared empty. ¡°I know what they¡¯re capable of.¡± ¡°What¡¯s the problem, then?¡± She opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, he opened his palm and slapped her. The sharp sound of his hand meeting her cheek echoed through the empty space around them, and she was pushed back a bit, putting her fingers to her face in shock as she looked at him in disbelief. ¡°Snap out of it,¡± he demanded. ¡°You did the right thing by running away. Don¡¯t fuck it up now.¡± She bit her lip. ¡°Don¡¯t you dare hit me like that again.¡± ¡°Or what?¡± Her nostrils flared as she stared at him, but a moment later, she looked away in shame. She wiped the snot beneath her nose with a sleeve. By then, the sounds of fighting had already quieted. Sophia looked back to the sky above the realm, and judging by the pang of agony in her eye, the amount of dissipating life force had multiplied. Her eyes moved down to the ground, and then, she turned to look at him with forced cheer. ¡°You¡¯re gonna pay for that slap,¡± she said, getting back into a combat stance. He nodded and did the same thing. *** At first, Freddy believed that getting used to his new body would be easy enough. After all, not even an hour after he started sparring with Sophia, he felt he was already 90 percent there to mastering himself. Unfortunately, that last 10 percent was also the most difficult to overcome. The main problem was his muscle memory. He got the hang of his new body quickly enough, but numerous times, Sophia would do something unexpected, and he¡¯d either freeze up, trip, or hit himself by accident. Conscious control caught up quickly¡ªinvoluntary reactions didn¡¯t. A lifetime of habits was deeply ingrained into his mind and body, and while his talent was miraculous, it couldn¡¯t change that. This problem would haunt him for a long while, but they were doing their best to undo the worst of it. And, as their progress continued, one thing became apparent: even with the downsides, he had gained far more than he¡¯d lost. Comparing his new body to the old one was like comparing a top-of-the-line car to a ragged old carriage. Even if he still sucked at driving, the ride was far smoother than it used to be. But boy, did he suck at driving. Sophia was genuinely bewildered at how bad he was at fighting. But, with her expert guidance and through much work, he started to approve. She aggressively corrected the worst of his mistakes; with time, he could almost be compared to someone who knew what they were doing, at least in the basics department. It was equally humiliating and humbling for Freddy to confront his lack of skill. His footwork was garbage; his sense of balance was nonexistent; he was like an angry bull, charging his opponents recklessly and throwing everything he had at them while paying no mind to how they might retaliate, thinking only one step ahead, if even that much¡ªa weakness that Sophia happily and frequently exploited as she effortlessly kicked his ass with a tenth of the effort he was putting into the fights. Sophia told him that he had something the cult dubbed a ¡°mind of hate.¡± She had explained their convoluted system, going into great detail about why the cult waited so long for the children to be given their vestiges. It wasn¡¯t just about them proving themselves; it was also about giving them the time to discover their true nature. While she didn¡¯t have a lifetime to watch him fight, according to her, she didn¡¯t need long to get a read on him. With almost absolute certainty, she claimed that he was what the cult called a ¡°Hateful.¡± Freddy fought like he genuinely hated his opponent, even while he sparred. He despised that they dared get in his way; his soul seethed in fury at the mere thought that someone dared attack him. He took every blow as personally as some might an insult to their mother. As such, he did everything in his power to obliterate his opponent as quickly as possible and make them suffer. His tendencies in how he formed his abilities were further proof of this. He craved instant, overwhelming power and tools that could inflict as much damage and pain in as short a time as possible. Usually, such people were given fire-affinity talents¡ªdestructive power sets that could be used at range. The tendencies like those that Freddy showed were horrible for anyone who wanted to train true martial arts. Taking blow for blow was an excellent way to retire early, and that was in the best-case scenario. Fortunately for him, with 1% Lifesteal, he was a rare exception to this common rule. According to Sophia, it was better for him to double down on how he fought. It was within his nature, after all; it was always best if one could follow the path that was most suitable for them. Besides, he was undead, and injuries didn¡¯t matter to him in the long run¡ªthere was no downside to pursuing his style, even if it was kind of insane. Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. Well¡­ if he learned how to land those strikes, at least. From his point of view, most of what she said sounded like typical pseudoscientific cultist mumbo-jumbo, but, if anything, he couldn¡¯t deny her skill. And there was some validity to what she was saying. Although he took it with a grain of salt, he still listened to her advice and did his best to improve. They would spar, with him focusing on mastering basic movements and Sophia working on her abilities. Then, when Sophia grew tired, she went to the Netherecho to replenish her reserves, and once she returned, she meditated to settle herself while Freddy trained. When they got hungry, they hunted for nearby gorels, and then¡­ well¡­ they tried eating their meat raw. Not only did it taste like vomit, it was hard to digest and gave them stomachaches. They couldn¡¯t light a fire to cook it because the smoke might give them away, but Sophia devised a brilliant solution. Even if it was a bit¡­ bizarre. She first flooded the flesh with life essence and turned the whole body into a big captured life spark. Then, she combined one of their extremely powerful sparks into the chunk of flesh. With a powerful spark of undeath, the flesh blob could digest any organic material quickly and without much trouble. So, they fed the mass of flesh with tree branches, leaves, and wood chunks. The blob could easily digest plant fiber and turn it into sugars. They would feed it so much wood that the blob of flesh would be supersaturated with sugar. At that point, it was only a matter of Sophia removing the spark of undeath. This would kill the whole blob instantly, making the meat safe to consume. The final result tasted metallic, earthy, and sickeningly sweet. It had the texture of melted chewing gum, but it went down much more easily than raw gorel flesh. When they were exhausted to their limits, they slept in the small cave they had found. Rather than swap turns to watch for danger, they tasked Bloodshed with keeping them safe. Well, with keeping Freddy safe, at least. Sophia knew this, and it did no good to her sleep quality. But she rested enough. Supreme-quality healing couldn¡¯t replace sleep, but it could supplement it somewhat. Thus, all it took was one spark, and she was up to speed. Freddy occasionally consumed the dubious steroids and exercised to temper his body. If he was being honest, he really didn¡¯t like using this stuff. He only consumed a tiny crumb melted into a large bottle of water, but even that much made him feel like he was losing his mind. Coupled with continuous, aching pain in his genital area and a massive headache, it was more comparable to being tortured than anything else. These steroids were not made for human consumption. While using them, his heart beat so irregularly that it felt like he was suffering from a long series of heart attacks. In fact, on a few occasions, his heart did stop beating altogether. If it weren¡¯t for his undeath, he¡¯d have lost his life every time that happened. Being undead was pretty bizarre. Even when his heart stopped pumping blood, all he felt was severe discomfort. While he didn¡¯t die or lose consciousness, it did have some scary effects. His entire body felt like it was screaming for air, causing him to feel like he was suffocating the whole time. Every cell, from the top of his head to the tips of his toes, demanded oxygen. This didn¡¯t only hurt, either. The cells in his body didn¡¯t die, but they became pretty weak, and in such a state, he could barely exert any force. Many of those who had the death affinity refrained from becoming undead. Now that he was experiencing the downsides, he could tell why. For him, this state was temporary. But for someone without access to a talent like his? He couldn¡¯t imagine continuing to live without a working heart. If he felt like that 24/7¡­ or if he got into an even worse situation? No wonder that so many people lost their minds. That being said, his talent definitely lived up to his expectations. Despite the aggressive damage to his body and the rapid muscle growth, once he healed, he experienced no lasting side effects. And the primary effects were definitely worth the sacrifice. Only three days after they started, the initial vulnerabilities in his body were gone, having vanished like they had never been there to begin with. His muscles grew only a bit, but even that was insane for only three days of work. On top of that, he felt considerably stronger. He¡¯d need a visit to the gym to see how much, but from what he could tell, it was a notable increase. Although, that wasn¡¯t exactly the best way to put it. It wasn¡¯t that he was considerably stronger than he used to be, but it was now far easier for him to exert that strength. The newly found superior leverage made movement much smoother, allowing him to comfortably exert force from a wider variety of angles. His body was also more balanced. Once his physique was mostly settled, he dedicated a part of his focus to gathering, tempering, and growing his abilities. He still meticulously kept track of his progress in a notebook. GATHERING: Second star¡ª128% Essence capacity TALENT: 1% Lifesteal: Dynamic-quality healing SOUL CONSTRUCT: Scythe: Essence Extraction TEMPERING TECHNIQUES: Blood affinity: Pool of Blood: Stage 1¡ª65% Progress Crimson Mercury: Stage 0¡ª99% Progress Water affinity: Adaptive Water Body: Stage 1¡ªComplete Thousand Wet Hells: Stage 1¡ª14% Progress Abyssal Depths: Stage 1¡ª25% Progress ACTIVE ABILITIES: Blood affinity: Gore Knuckles: Stage 0¡ª98% Progress Water affinity: Flowing Strike: Stage 1¡ª25% Progress Hydraulic Flex: Stage 1¡ª9% Progress Create Water: Stage 1¡ª23% Progress Pressure Jet: Unfinished ether shell Perished water affinity: Perished Water: Stage ?¡ª? Progress That Other Ability: No clue SPIRIT ABILITIES: Blood Sacrifice Leviathan¡¯s Fury UNIQUE CURSED ITEMS: Blood Ring: -4% essence cost, +3% power for blood-affinity abilities. Can be used to release Bloodshed. CURSED ITEMS: Dagger of Bleeding: Melee attacks cause extra bleeding He hadn¡¯t made much progress across the board, but he did make a notable leap forward in essence capacity. Sophia¡¯s method was quite effective. They hadn¡¯t yet returned to it, but he was sure he could reach at least 160% essence capacity if they did. 199% was way out of his reach, however. Maybe if he had two weeks, he could get there, but with the time they had, he wasn¡¯t optimistic. It was a loss, to be sure, but not a massive one. Even if he made it that far, reaching the third star wasn¡¯t a possibility. Having Bloodshed was effectively a cheat for growing capacity, but a leap to the third star took far more than just being at 199%. If it were that easy, the vast majority of two-stars wouldn¡¯t be stuck at this exact point. Reaching the third star required one to truly fulfill their two-star potential. Physically, Freddy was already way ahead of most two-stars¡­ but his abilities were severely lacking. Pool of Blood was his most advanced ability, and even it was only at stage one and 65% progress. Most people at 199% star capacity had all of their core abilities at stage two, with some even having their primary ability at stage 3, but that was exceptionally rare. The thought of this made Freddy sweat. His body was a great tool, but he held no delusions about his current power. Even Sophia had said it¡ªwithout his spirit abilities, they didn¡¯t stand a chance against the cultists. He glanced over the notebook, looking through his set of powers. Crimson Mercury and Gore Knuckles were both close to being ready to upgrade, so he decided that the best course of action would be to focus on those two. His effort paid off quickly. A mere 15 minutes of tempering and another half hour of punching a tree were enough to complete the job. He tasked Bloodshed with finding a few vestiges. Essentially, he needed the concept of ¡°metallicness¡± for both abilities. There were a few branching paths for Gore Knuckles after that point, but for Crimson Mercury, it was just a matter of finding concepts of being tied to specific metals, preferably ones that made for good weapons. A quick trip underground was all it took for Bloodshed to return with the targets. Metal was everywhere, and it was no surprise that a vestige of the concept would also be common. He beat them up and absorbed them into his soul, finally upgrading the two abilities. The Gore Knuckles became a bit tougher, which was no surprise. They wouldn¡¯t be particularly impressive until he got Crimson Mercury to at least stage 1¡ª10% progress. Then, they would have the approximate quality of wrought iron, which would do just fine for the most part unless he had to use them on a particularly hard material. If they shattered occasionally, fixing them required a negligible investment of essence, and he had blood to spare. With that out of the way, he looked through the rest of the list. If he was being honest, even if he dedicated all his time to growing them, there was little benefit he could get from most of his abilities in the short time frame they were working with. Growth outside of mortal combat was slow at his current stage, and he didn¡¯t have the time to develop new abilities. At this point, there was only one ability worth investing his time into¡ªhydraulic Flex. It was his go-to ability for all things mobility. As for the other abilities? Flowing Strike was already powerful enough. Thousand Wet Hells grew too slowly, and Abyssal Depths only made Flowing Strike more expensive, which wasn¡¯t particularly desirable with his current reserves. He hadn¡¯t been using Hydraulic Flex until that point in his spars against Sophia. With it, he was simply too fast for her to hold her ground, and he needed to get used to his body anyway. Once he was finished with upgrading his abilities, he walked back to where Sophia was. Her body looked serene as she meditated, gathering essence and allowing it to settle in her body. She was close to reaching the second star. Her speed was insane, but that was to be expected with how long she had spent training before becoming an archhuman. Although she looked calm at that moment, he knew that wasn¡¯t how she felt. She didn¡¯t say it¡ªfor the most part, she just focused on progress. But he could feel an air of¡­ determination around her. There was no more joviality. Even when she did try to joke, it wasn¡¯t funny. She wasn¡¯t trying to be. He didn''t ask, but he did care. He feared how she would react. It could get ugly¡ªreal ugly. There were several worst-case scenarios, starting with her fumbling and getting herself killed and ending with betrayal. Although he seriously doubted they would take her back given the stories she shared about them. It was hard for Freddy to relate to her. It had been a long time since he last felt like he truly belonged somewhere. ¡°Am I that pretty while I meditate?¡± she asked him as she opened her eyes. Her smile was strained, and it didn¡¯t reach her eyes. He didn¡¯t feel like bantering. ¡°I have to ask you something,¡± he said, sighing as he glanced down at his left hand, where his storage ring glistened under the false sun. Freddy had already shared more with Sophia than he wanted to. She knew about Bloodshed. She knew about his spirit abilities. His ring. She cocked her head at him, and he tried meeting her eyes but failed, dropping his head down. He got into a crouch and fiddled with his ring, rolling his thoughts across his tongue as he pondered his options. It was time to make a decision. Half-trusting her like this was stupid. At the moment, he was leaving himself open to betrayal while failing to maximize the odds of their survival. He had to make a choice. ¡°Is everything okay?¡± she asked, preparing to get up and come closer to him. He glanced at her. Either he trusted her¡­ or he didn¡¯t. His heart raged in his chest as he struggled to look at her. What were his options, even? Tell her to fuck off? And then what? How far would he get on his own? Besides, hadn¡¯t she gone above and beyond to help him out? Her actions weren¡¯t those of someone who wanted to betray him for this cult. From the very start, she had been serious about surviving this. She was simply torn. ¡°Hello?¡± she called. ¡°Earth calling Freddy? Are you okay, dude?¡± she asked, trying to sound cheerful. ¡°Sophia.¡± He coughed and got up to his feet. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ I have something to tell you.¡± She stopped and stared at him, a pensive glare dancing across his features. ¡°Go on,¡± she urged. ¡°You said we stand no chance against the cult, right?¡± he asked. ¡°I¡¯m positive,¡± she said, squinting at him. Then, her eyebrows shot up. ¡°You think you have something else that could help us in the fight,¡± she declared confidently. ¡°No,¡± he denied. ¡°That¡¯s not what I¡¯m¡­¡± He couldn¡¯t stop himself from looking at his ring again. ¡°Maybe¡­ but I¡¯m not sure.¡± When he was getting his stuff evaluated by that man, August, he only had six of the nine consumable items appraised before the whole deal went tits up. And Freddy had left the most expensive-looking stuff for last¡ªthus, he had no idea what it was. But she might know. His stomach felt like it wanted to jump out of his throat as he finally bit down and steeled his resolve. He wasn¡¯t going to run away. She was a priceless source of information. But if he had her by his side, he was going all in. If she had any plans to betray him, it didn¡¯t matter how much she knew. What mattered the most was that they used everything they had at their disposal. ¡°Hey, Sophia,¡± he called, finally raising his head and meeting her gaze, ¡°I need you to check something out.¡± Chapter 84 - The Three Items The passage that Jacob¡¯s and Jack¡¯s parties, as well as the few strangers, were hiding in was also a hub for the dungeon they had delved just earlier that day. The passage that went into the dungeon wasn¡¯t open to the wilderness of the small realm, but rather, it was an enclosed, fortified building that was located underground. Rather than wait right outside the flimsy barricade they improvised, they went deeper into the passage, reaching the fortification and hiding there. Theodore was entirely unconscious, not having opened his eyes in the several hours they had been there, and he was the only individual present with any sort of healing capabilities. Within the fortified building, there was an infirmary. The infirmary was rather small and poorly equipped, with no employees present. There were only five beds. On that day, 9 people with rather nasty injuries were present. The five with the worst injuries were placed on the beds¡ªTheodore, who had overused his holy affinity and was now suffering the effects of severe essence poisoning; Jacob, who had numerous contusions, bruises, and two massive, bloody holes in his back and stomach; Karen, who was poisoned and littered with cuts and stabs, having lost a lot of her blood; Phillip, whose helmet was literally stuck to his head because the arrows that had penetrated it couldn¡¯t be removed; and Beatrice, who was burnt, bloody, and mumbling something due to a severe concussion. Jack had a few bad scrapes, and Jean¡¯s whole body was littered with bruises from stone bullets, but both were free of anything nastier than that. Then, there were the four strangers who had come with them. Two of them were entirely uninjured¡ªone was a lightly-armored Asian woman whose eyes were permanently stuck wide open as she sat in a corner and hugged her knees, and the other was a medium-height man in a full suit of mid-range heavy armor that he hadn¡¯t removed since they arrived. The other two, a tan, tall, black-haired man with a crooked, bloody nose and a shorter man with a large cut across his bald head, had already bandaged themselves and were waiting on the side. Jack and Jean were doing their best to help bandage and treat the severely wounded party while the armored man stood outside, watching for the invaders. Thankfully, there was a safe with some supplies, and Jacob had the password, so they had no lack of first aid kits and basic healing medicines. Nothing they had on hand would do them any better than natural-quality healing, but that was far superior to leaving their wounds as they were. Out of everyone present, Jacob¡¯s injuries were the most severe. Despite using both Hundred Wet Hells and Stone Skin, taking numerous strikes from the mace, as well as the point-blank Pressure Jet, had done a number on him, The second worst was Phillip. His helmet, which had been pelted by arrows, was stuck to his head. The projectiles had penetrated through his expensive helm and embedded themselves into his metallic skull, making it almost impossible to remove the helmet without causing more harm. They would have to wait for Theodore to wake up, and then Jacob would use his talent to crumble the helmet into pieces. Theodore¡¯s healing ability would be enough to save Phillip after that. Until then, his head had been bathed in disinfectant and low-end healing elixir. They couldn¡¯t use anything stronger than first-aid quality since nobody wanted the man¡¯s bones to fuse with the arrowheads before they could be pulled out. As for Karen, Theodore, and Beatrice, while they were in a bad situation, all of them would live without intervention. Phillip and Jacob wouldn¡¯t. Once fully bandaged, Jacob stared at the cold, white ceiling with a painfully dull gaze. An ache danced behind his eyes, and his expression betrayed the look of someone who had fallen into despair. He had watched Rachel die, standing impotently as he saw her get brutally murdered. He had seen many die. Even at that moment, every person there was covered in guts and blood. As if that wasn¡¯t enough, he had been forced to confront his shortcomings in the most brutal way possible, not just as a warrior, but as a leader. He had failed his team, and it was only by luck that the rest were still there among the living. Well¡­ luck and Theodore. Jacob moved his head to the side to look at the unconscious man. Now that was a leader¡ªa truly dauntless man. With a mere fraction of Jacob''s power, Theodore had saved pretty much all of them from certain death. Indeed, his powers weren¡¯t to blame. Jacob had three affinities and a top-tier talent¡ªif he had worked hard enough, he would have found better ways around his weaknesses. Now, it was too late to cry about the should-a-would-as. It was over. His incompetence had caught up with him. And from that point onward, that day would haunt him forever. It was difficult to accept what happened to Rachel. He kept feeling the impulse to turn around and see how she was doing, only to realize that she was not in the room with them. She was dead. Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. Their relationship hadn¡¯t been the type that was guaranteed to last forever. It was quite shallow. But losing her like this? He saw Jean move from the corner of his eye. Her face was like it was cast in steel. The same as Jack. They had lost someone far more important to them than Rachel had been to him. Yet, based on their expressions, one would never guess. Yet another way he found himself inferior. Yet another way he was weak. What they needed to do at that moment was to get patched up and hide somewhere, possibly in the dungeon. It was still cleared and if they went inside, it wouldn¡¯t reset. It was far from a perfect place to hide, but the underground chambers were numerous, and Jacob knew the whole structure like the back of his hand, while their pursuers didn¡¯t. The thought of having to fight those people again made his stomach lurch, but he swallowed his fear. He had been pathetic enough for that day. It was best now that he swallowed these thoughts and focused. Things were a lot more likely to get worse before they got any better. Suddenly, a man¡¯s voice came, startling Jacob out of his reverie. It was Theodore, who was currently screaming as he got up and frightfully looked around the room. The man was suffering from psychosis as a consequence of overusing his essence. But he was awake. Once they calmed him down, they could finally move on. *** Before showing her anything from his ring, the first thing Freddy did was tell Sophia his story. Well, he had already told her his story, but now, he filled her in on the details he had left out. For a long while, she simply didn¡¯t believe him. After all, a one-star killing an elite Lord, even if every damn star in the universe aligned in his favor, was something that just didn¡¯t happen. But then he showed her the prime in the small glass box¡ªan item that he speculated to be worth likely billions of dollars. Once her eyebrows finished their makeout session with her hairline, she finally managed to reattach her jaw to the rest of her face. ¡°Do you have any idea how incredible that is?¡± ¡°Yes, but¡ª¡± ¡°No, no, no!¡± she interrupted, aggressively waving her finger before his face. ¡°Yeah, I get it,¡± she spat. ¡°You and I are in agreement that you only managed it because of the circumstances. But holy moly!¡± She got up to her feet and gripped her hair in two fistfuls. ¡°That is the single most absurd thing I¡¯ve ever heard in my life, and believe me, I¡¯ve heard some crazy stuff!¡± He chuckled a bit, dropping his head slightly. He was aware that he¡¯d done something incredible that day. But he wasn¡¯t there to brag. He was there to prepare for the storm that was coming for them. As he looked at the woman before him, he could tell that she had¡­ relaxed a bit. Some of the tension in her body had evaporated, and she acted a bit more comfortably around him again. ¡°Sophia,¡± he said. ¡°I think it¡¯s time to show you what I was talking about.¡± She calmed down slightly and nodded her head. ¡°Can I presume that that¡¯s the personal ring of that man?¡± she asked. Freddy nodded. Sophia rubbed her palms like a greedy goblin, smiling nefariously like a snake who had stumbled upon a nest of unguarded eggs. He stared at her for a long moment, squinting his eyes. ¡°What?¡± she asked. ¡°Don¡¯t look at me like that.¡± She grinned wryly at him. ¡°You look pretty damn excited to find out, too.¡± He merely shook his head and proceeded to take the first of the three items out of the ring. It was a small wooden box, and within it was a dried piece of flesh. The wood was smooth and shiny, shimmering under the rays of the false sun like a polished sheet of glass, while the piece of meat just looked like a half-eaten chunk of jerky. ¡°No clue,¡± she said straight off the bat, shrugging. ¡°I mean, you could probably eat that¡­ I think¡­? If you want to risk it, I can be ready with a few heals to save you if it goes poorly,¡± she offered. ¡°Tempting,¡± he said honestly, ¡°but let¡¯s leave that for later,¡± he said as he pulled the second object out of the ring. This time, it was a tiny glass vial, small enough that it could be pinched between two fingers. Within it were two small beads that had the texture of oil droplets floating in water. Sophia scowled at them for a long moment, grinding her teeth as she worked to remember anything, but¡­ ¡°Yeah, no,¡± she surrendered. ¡°No clue,¡± she said with a shrug. ¡°Don¡¯t look like something I¡¯d eat, either.¡± ¡°You never know,¡± he said, grinning at her with a wide smile, ¡°Maybe it''s worth taking the risk.¡± ¡°Maybe,¡± she said with a quick nod. ¡°But it could also be some sort of cursed medicine that burns your stars away and sets you back in progress.¡± ¡°On second thought, I¡¯m gonna hold onto these.¡± After putting the box and the small vial away, Freddy anxiously observed the inside of the ring, hesitantly eyeing the final item. ¡°Is something wrong?¡± Sophia asked him, and he answered with only a quick glance at her. This item had been left for last, but frankly, it was one that he was reluctant to take out. He wasn¡¯t afraid that she¡¯d steal it. Well, not that afraid, but he was worried that she wouldn¡¯t recognize it. Or, perhaps even worse, that she would know and that it would turn out to be useless. Trapped within a small glass box was a big glowing bead of pure white. Even inside the storage ring, he could feel an intense power radiating off the item. This was something undeniably good. This was something great. His expectations for it were through the roof. They had been since the moment he first saw it. ¡°So?¡± she asked again. ¡°Are you gonna whip it out or what?¡± He shot her a blank stare. She responded with a wry grin. Sighing, he finally focused, and with a pop of air rushing out of the way, he conjured the item on his palm. Sophia swiped the box from his hand in a literal instant, then screamed, then slammed her mouth shut with her free hand as her wide-open eyes jumped between the object in her hand and Freddy¡¯s face. Needless to say, she seemed to know what it was. And it seemed to be something very, very good. Chapter 85 - Final Preparations Freddy felt profoundly itchy watching Sophia cradling the shiny ball. ¡°Sophia¡­¡± he called cautiously. ¡°Oh, shut it!¡± she yelled. ¡°I¡¯m not gonna steal it, you¡ªargh! I wish I killed a damn Lord by accident.¡± ¡°I wouldn¡¯t call it an accident,¡± he said, stepping forward. She groaned and handed the object back to him. ¡°Listen to me, Freddy,¡± she said, looking at the box. ¡°Here is what you have to do. Go into the Netherecho, then eat this thing.¡± ¡°In the Netherecho?¡± he asked, scowling at her. ¡°Why the hell would I do that?¡± ¡°Just do it,¡± she said. ¡°Hold on, now,¡± he started cautiously. ¡°I¡¯ma need you to step back a bit; I don¡¯t like the way you¡¯re looking at this thing.¡± She narrowed her eyes at him. ¡°Either do it, or I will steal it and take it for myself.¡± ¡°Okay, geesh.¡± He looked at the box. With a final glance at Sophia, he took 7 measured steps away from her and looked for a way to open the box. ¡°How do I open this damn thing?¡± ¡°You don¡¯t,¡± she said. ¡°Just go into the Netherecho, and you¡¯ll see what I mean.¡± ¡°Aight,¡± he said. Then he took another 7 long steps away from her, ensuring he was far enough away that she couldn¡¯t snatch it while he was in the Netherecho. She squinted at him again and made strangling gestures. He chuckled. Then, he sat on the ground, placed the box before him, and closed his eyes. As soon as he did, he understood precisely what Sophia was talking about. In the place of the small sealed box was what looked like a storm of ether, a coiling sphere of glowing, pure wisps. It radiated so much power that he felt it was comparable to staring at his star¡ªif not even more extreme. ¡°What the hell is this thing?¡± he wondered, suddenly questioning Sophia¡¯s advice. However, he could also feel a slight pull. It almost felt like his projection was¡­ salivating at the sight of the mesmerizing object before him. With a gulp, he leaped off his head and landed before the stormy object. It appeared slightly larger in the Netherecho, and the glass box was nowhere to be seen. With a cautious step forward, he placed one hand on the spinning object. Instantly, the storm stopped. The mighty mass of energy evaporated into a thin stream of pure ether and coagulated right on the palm of his tiny hand. It grew as small as a grain of sand, and once it fully condensed, it looked frighteningly similar to a miniature star. Its white glow appeared to shatter the further it went, splitting into tiny rainbows that evaporated into gentle mist. Don¡¯t tell me¡­ With more anticipation than he¡¯d felt in a long time, he carefully brought the object to the hood of his cloak and shoved it inside, consuming it. Instantly, a horrible pain shot straight through his entire soul, repeatedly echoing in a recursive sequence of ethereal pulses coursing into his ethercosm. He forced himself to bear the pain, pushing through it as the process gradually came to a halt. His projection flew back towards his body, and he appeared not in the real world but inside his ethercosm, where he floated around for a few long seconds. Then, he felt his projection start to condense. Horror filled him as he felt his entire soul space shrink for a moment, and, a distance away from the two stars orbiting one another in his core, a tiny nova appeared. It roiled stormily for a long moment before gradually calming and condensing¡­ Into a satellite. Freddy stared at the object before him in shock, absolutely bewildered. ¡°Holy moly,¡± he muttered, slowly drifting towards the incredible object. ¡°I have a satellite,¡± he mumbled, unable to restrain his glee. ¡°I have a goddamn satellite!¡± It was like reliving the moment he first laid eyes on his star. It was marvelous. Magical. He felt excited beyond belief, and he quickly went back outside. Sophia¡¯s envious gaze welcomed his return. ¡°How¡¯d it go?¡± she asked. ¡°It hurt like hell,¡± he said. ¡°By the way, thank you for warning me.¡± She smirked. ¡°You don¡¯t seem all that angry, though.¡± He grinned from ear to ear. ¡°I guess I¡¯m in a good mood.¡± He focused on Thousand Wet Hells. The tempering technique ordinarily consumed 10% essence every second. With 128% essence capacity, he had roughly 13 seconds of use while full. At the moment, his essence stores were at only 79%. He quickly did some mental math. Satellites only contained 1% of the essence capacity of an entire star. But, to compensate for this, they regenerated that capacity fully in a single second. That essence was consumed with priority, meaning it always went before the essence that was stored in the star. Essentially, with how it worked, it was pretty much a 1% per second discount on essence use for every ability. With something like Hydraulic Flex in passive mode, it completely covered the use cost, making the ability essentially¡­ free. On top of that, it made essence manipulation effectively free, too, allowing him to practice to his heart¡¯s content. This was an absolutely enormous advantage. These things cost millions of dollars, and they were damn hard to buy for solo archhumans. The people who made these usually only sold them to big organizations. Having a satellite meant that even if he was utterly out of essence in his star, he could still run Hydraulic Flex indefinitely. Well, until the essence poisoning killed him, that was, but water essence was the gentlest kind, so he had quite a bit of leeway. With Thousand Wet Hells, it didn¡¯t seem that impressive. At 79% essence, he could use it for 8 seconds¡ªwith the satellite, that became 8.77 seconds. That seemed quite tame at first glance, but that wasn¡¯t the case at all. That was a nearly 10% increase in the speed at which he would grow Thousand Wet Hells. Over a day or two, that didn¡¯t seem like much, but when progress was measured in years, and when compounding results were taken into account, it made a drastic difference. Putting Thousand Wet Hells aside, expensive as it was, it made his other tempering techniques much cheaper. Pool of Blood only cost around 1% essence per second¡ªnow, it was free. That didn¡¯t mean he could use it forever; blood essence was a lot nastier than water essence, and overuse could lead to some terrible consequences¡ªlike his own blood turning highly acidic and corroding his body away from the inside. This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. He wasn¡¯t ordinarily scared of this since it wasn''t a big deal, even if he suffered some damage. But with a satellite involved, things could get extremely dangerous. Fast. ¡°Did you test it out yet?¡± Sophia¡¯s words broke him out of his musings. ¡°Hmm?¡± he hummed. ¡°Ah, no, wait; I¡¯m wondering what to try it with first.¡± She rolled her eyes. ¡°Just do whatever!¡± ¡°You fiendish woman!¡± he spat. ¡°This is a special moment! I need to decide on a good one.¡± She groaned. ¡°Okay, geez,¡± she muttered as she turned around. ¡°Who the hell says ¡®fiendish¡¯?¡± Freddy ignored her as he took a closer look at his abilities. ¡°Screw it,¡± he said as he decided on a trusty classic¡ªAdaptive Water Body. He hadn¡¯t used this one in quite a while, and he thought it would be wise to give it a go. It was quite an expensive tempering technique at 4% essence per second. Now, it would be 25 percent cheaper. He focused and started using it. His ability drew essence from his star as usual, but this time, half of it came from the satellite, drastically reducing the rate at which his star was being depleted. He continued using the ability until¡ª ¡°Wait a minute!¡± he yelped as he stopped using his tempering technique. ¡°Hmm?¡± Sophia called. ¡°All good?¡± she asked. ¡­ Half? He tried again. Indeed, the ability drew on his essence, roughly half of which came from the satellite. Now¡­ either he had misremembered the cost of the ability or¡ª ¡°This satellite is generating 2% essence per second,¡± he muttered in disbelief. Sophia¡¯s mouth gaped. ¡°No freaking¡ªaaargh, you lucky bastard!¡± she spat. ¡°You got a two-star satellite!¡± ¡°This is a two-star satellite!¡± he echoed her words. ¡°Holy shit, I have a two-star satellite!¡± His mind rushed as he got up. That changed things. 2% instead of 1% wasn¡¯t a tiny difference¡ªhell, two-star satellites cost over ten times more than one-star ones. He rushed to his feet and screamed in joy. It took him a long moment to calm down. ¡°What are my chances against the cultists, now?¡± he asked snarkily. ¡°They¡¯re¡­ higher, I guess,¡± she said. ¡°But all of them have satellites,¡± she declared. ¡°Hell, I think some of them have three-star ones.¡± That made him deflate real quick. ¡°Oh¡­¡± ¡°Don¡¯t you ¡®oh¡¯ me!¡± she said. ¡°You don¡¯t have the right to go ¡®oh¡¯ and deflate dramatically! This is a huge deal! We only have a few more days left before this place is flooded with monsters. When that happens, having a two-star satellite will let you save your reserves! You don¡¯t even need to tap into your star now!¡± ¡°Yeah¡­ you¡¯re right,¡± he said, but he wasn¡¯t comforted by those words. This was indeed a massive deal. Yet, she so casually shared that all their opponents had the same advantage. That was a tough pill to swallow. It was sobering. She wasn¡¯t kidding when she said they were dealing with true elites. And they only had a handful of days left to prepare. *** Leonard stood before the barrier, smoking a cigar as he eyed the ripples. The entire lobby had been blocked off and reinforced behind layers of heavy metal walls. Dozens of powerful archhumans were waiting just past the barrier behind him, with hundreds more waiting throughout the building. He had tried himself against it. He was no combat arch, but he was no pushover, either. Yet¡­ no luck. None of his officers could bust the barrier, either. Specialized equipment that could perhaps stand a chance would take weeks to assemble, and until then, they were stuck, waiting to see whether the barrier would go down. There were four open passages such as this one in Nova York. All of them were blocked by the same barrier. On top of that, another five private passages had been compromised. A total of nine realms throughout Nova York were in an uncertain state. Depending on who had done this and what their goals were, the next few weeks could spell a disaster unseen since the early days of the Rift. The worst part was that they couldn¡¯t simply evacuate the entire city. Millions of people lived here¡ªwhere exactly would they take them? Faced with no choice, the government had kept this attack under a tight wrap. Naturally, word had gotten out. But seeing as the local government and the news were quiet, close to no one was panicking. Similar stuff had occurred before, albeit on a far smaller scale, and things had been handled smoothly. Unfortunately, Leonard didn¡¯t believe it would go the same way this time. Something about this whole thing felt sinister to him. There was a purpose behind these actions that eluded him, and if there was anything he hated, it was being out of the loop. Not to mention that one of the most promising sons he had had in a long time was stuck behind this barrier, and whether he had survived was unknown. *** Madame boarded her flying carriage, bidding goodbye to a long line of screaming women who were seeing her off on the rooftop of her headquarters. She sent kisses and hugs, waving cheerily as she stepped inside. Her assistant, Matt, approached the carriage and closed the door. The smile didn¡¯t fall from her face once the doors were closed. A moment later, a second door opened, and Matt walked inside, stepping over and sitting beside her. A few seconds later, the three bodyguards and the driver also walked in, sitting down and getting comfortable. There was absolutely no need for bodyguards to protect her. Yet, whenever she had to descend down to the lessers, she found them convenient to have by her side. The empress would arrive in about a week or so, and with her flying carriage, Madame would be at the capital in only three days. Four days was the most she could manage to scrounge up. Naturally, there was no real need to show up a whole four days early, but she wanted a small break from all the hubbub. She hadn¡¯t set aside time for herself in a long while, and New York was just the place to go and have some fun. No, wait¡ªNova York. That was what they called it nowadays. She kept forgetting about that. If she was being honest, she didn¡¯t like the new name. Even ¡°New New York¡± would have been better. Speaking of the city, she had recently gotten her hands on a few concerning reports. A few passages were in trouble, and it could be a big problem. Not her problem, of course. As their carriage finally lifted off the ground and soared into the sky, she couldn¡¯t help but wonder about Freddy Stern. What the hell was happening to that young man? She hadn¡¯t been paying particularly close attention to what he was up to, but when she sensed the intense signature of what could only be extremely crude body modification, she took a closer look. And quickly made a startling discovery¡ªhe had acquired a spark of undeath. That was plainly absurd for too many reasons to count. There was no way in hell he had received another damn unique. So¡­ an affinity shard, perhaps? That was also unlikely. She thought back to that undead being she killed back in the caverns. Was that passage connected to undeath somehow? At any rate, this was more evidence to support her initial assumption.. Too many strange things were happening for that not to be the case. At any rate, extra evidence was always welcome. Persuading the empress would be no easy task. *** The next few days passed in a blur. Freddy and Sophia trained every waking second they had. Although rudimentary, Sophia had acquired a neat ability¡ªshe could morph her legs. Now, she could bend her knees the other way and use her legs as springs for running and jumping faster. As far as offense was concerned, she had put little work into that. Their plan would be better served with greater mobility. Freddy understood the same thing, and as for their plan, fighting would be the last resort. Speed would be no issue for him with Hydraulic Flex¡ªwith his Thousand Wet Hells-tempered body, he could reliably use Hydraulic Flex with both stars to leap past the guards and into the passage. Thankfully, Freddy had a watch in his backpack so they could keep track of time. It didn¡¯t take long for him to learn the consequences of abusing the satellite. He used it quite heavily during the first day, pushing it to the limit to discover where that limit lay. And discover it, he did. After loading his body with far too much water essence, he started throwing up. Every single orifice in his body started aggressively leaking water. He sweated buckets. His vision became blurry, and the dehydration hit him like a truck. He¡¯d gone way past normal levels of essence poisoning and well into lethal territory without realizing it. Without his immortal body, keeping himself alive would have been a struggle. Thankfully, he could recover from the side effects with relative ease, and it took only two hours of meditation to purge the excess water essence from his body. Throughout their time there, very few gorels had stumbled upon them. They were simply too isolated. But on the seventh day, as Sophia had predicted, more of them started showing up. At first, it was just one or two, but before long, it was five, then ten, then twenty. As the cacophony of gorel cries shrieked through the entire realm, filling the air with a subtle vibration, they knew. They were out of time. update authorino notes fellas Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. Chapter 86 - The Advent of Bloodshed Freddy peeked through the rocks barricading the tiny cave where he and Sophia hid. Through the tiny hole, he witnessed a storm of dark-furred boodies, their red-speckled chests the only way to tell one apart from another. The outside sounded horrendous¡ªthe screams were loud and ever present, and the vibrations of the stampede were causing the ground to vibrate, and small chunks of stone rolled down the barricade. The horde had arrived in the middle of their training¡ªthey were both quite exhausted and before stepping out into the swarm, they would rest and regain their strength. First, they had to eat. Sophia was doing her best to make the gorel paste look palatable, but no matter what she did, it wasn¡¯t going to happen. ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± he asked, eyeing the fake chicken Sophia was shaping. It looked cartoony as hell, and its surface had a plastic texture. ¡°This could be our last meal,¡± she said, trying to look serious but failing miserably. Unable to resist, she started giggling at the ridiculous display before them. Her hand clasped over her mouth, and her eyes glanced at him. He also started giggling like a dumbass. ¡°Bone apple teeth, I guess,¡± he joked as he bent over and grabbed a fake drumstick. It tasted like the same old crap¡ªsickeningly sweet, metallic, earthy¡­ but¡­ warmer, somehow. As they ate in silence, the mood grew more severe. They ate a big meal, forcing as much food as possible down their throats. Then, with Bloodshed standing guard, they took a nap to let the food settle. They fell asleep more effortlessly than ever, with plenty of space between them. Freddy woke up first, finding a shivering, frightened Sophia hugging his bulky arm. Rather than push her away, he slowly moved her blonde hair out of her face, revealing her pained expression. He felt his heart tighten. For a long moment, he nearly wanted to delude himself into thinking that¡­ he had something with her. That there was something between them. And perhaps he wasn¡¯t wrong¡ªbut he knew it wasn¡¯t love. In different ways, they were both broken. There was a kinship in their shared struggle. Within her, he saw not a lover but a long-lost sister he was starting to warm up to. A close friend. But a wall still stood between them. A lot depended on how she reacted to confronting the cult. If she managed to overcome her demons¡­. he could see himself wanting to keep her by his side. She opened her eyes and slowly looked up at him. After staring at him for half a second, she violently pushed him away and jumped back. ¡°Oh no¡­¡± she said as she buried her face in her palms. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me I just did that¡­¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Sophie,¡± he teased. ¡°I, too, am sharting my jorts. Brrr.¡± He mimicked shivering as he hugged his arms and mockingly sneered at her. She punched his shoulder. ¡°Ow!¡± he yelped. ¡°Asshole,¡± she spat as she shook her head and turned around. ¡°So¡­¡± She changed the topic, ¡°are you topped up?¡± ¡°Almost,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯d like to meditate a bit to let myself settle. You?¡± She sighed, looking down. ¡°I¡¯m full¡­¡± They had done all the preparation they could, including fighting within the Netherecho to grow their stars. Freddy had made it to 162%, a monumental jump forward. Unsurprisingly, she had reached 99% progress on her star, but to their disappointment, she had failed to break through. It was a let-down, to be sure, but it wasn¡¯t a massive surprise. Her failure to go up a star could be attributed to many things, but it was most likely because she had rushed it too much. There was the elixir in Freddy¡¯s ring, and despite the agony that caused him, he had suggested she take a dose to help push her along. But according to her, consuming such a treasure at just the peak of the first star had a tendency to backfire, and even a good chance of making the user¡¯s talent worse, completely negating the value of going up a star in the first place. It was a shame, but that was life sometimes. At any rate, running out of essence would most likely not be a problem for her. Killing gorels would replenish around 1%, and there would be plenty of those around. Freddy was more worried about her body than anything else. As a one-star, she wasn¡¯t that much more durable than an ordinary human. Even putting undeath and her talent aside, exhaustion would eventually catch up with her. The two meditated, settling their minds, bodies, and souls. As a final touch, Sophia split one of the sparks of undeath and burned one half each to top them off, just to ensure they were in peak condition. The last remnants of Freddy¡¯s fatigue vanished, and he felt ready to go. Sophia was wearing a torn, filthy shirt, and he was shirtless, with only his heavy-duty pants, their sleeves torn from the knee down, and the metallic boots protecting his body. He had cast away all the heavy armor pieces, listening to Sophia¡¯s advice. It wouldn¡¯t do him much good other than slow him down. His trusty serrated dagger rested in his palm, waiting to be used as a tool of slaughter. He glanced at Sophia. She held her shortsword, polishing the blade with the hem of her shirt. For better or worse, she looked determined to go through with their plan. They would go out into the forest and slaughter the gorels in their way, accumulating as much spilled blood as possible. Then, once they gathered enough, they would summon Bloodshed and use it as a distraction to break through one of the passages and escape into the interspace. There, they would look for a place to hide and wait out the attack. It was far from a perfect plan. It could fail on any of the steps. They could get overwhelmed by the gorels. They could be found by cultist scouts. They could even break through with no problem, only to get hunted down in the interspace, either by a mighty monster or one of the cultists. But it was the best chance they had. At that point, they were sitting there, stalling, both trying to think of anything else they could do to prepare. Before long, shifting and scratching came from the makeshift barricade keeping them blocked off. Sophia looked like she going to panic for a long moment, her eyes widening, pupils shrinking, nose flaring, shoulders tensing¡ªbut then she suddenly relaxed, a sense of resignation flushing her body. ¡°It¡¯s time to go,¡± she said softly. ¡°Yeah,¡± he concurred, watching a large stone roll down the pile of rubble keeping them safe. The sounds of growling and hissing grew louder, and one of the gorels screamed. He slowly got up. ¡°You want to wait for them to break in, or do you want to start the party on our terms?¡± She grinned widely at him. ¡°What do you have in mind?¡± ¡°A Flowing Strike to blast the rocks apart,¡± he said. ¡°Maybe with both stars active.¡± She raised an eyebrow. ¡°What¡¯s the essence cost of that?¡± ¡°I think around 19% at this point,¡± he shared with a shit-eating grin. She whistled. ¡°You want to start the fight by blowing your arm up?¡± ¡°Believe it or not,¡± he said, ¡°It would only injure me a bit.¡± She snorted at that, shaking her head. ¡°You¡¯re a damn monster.¡± For a long moment, they stood there, smiling. The gorels had heard them and were now frantically trying to dig them out. An arm appeared through the rubble, spoony nails clawing stone apart like ice cream. ¡°Whelp,¡± she said, offering a fist bump. ¡°It¡¯s time to go.¡± He bumped her outstretched fist, and they turned around. The dagger in his hand gleamed under the light coming from the outside. A large stone crumbled apart a moment later, and four gorels pushed into the cave. With a flick of his wrist, Gore Knuckles appeared along Freddy¡¯s fingers, and with almost lazy jabs, he poked the rushing monsters in their faces. They supplied all of the momentum while he did the least he could get away with, ensuring he was conserving as much energy as possible. None of the four monsters were instantly killed by the jabs, but all of them had received a poke to the brain through their eyes and were convulsing on the floor as a result, twitching and bleeding the last of their life away. They bled profusely as their wounds leaked like open faucets, courtesy of the cursed dagger. ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± he said, moving forward and leaving the cave through the small hole. The sound of gorel screams and hissing was reverberating through the realm at such volume that it created a constant background drone, akin to the howl of a million damned souls. Like ants between blades of grass, the ape sloth moles shifted through the forest, running around aimlessly and looking for anything to attack. This was what happened when queens got slaughtered en masse¡ªit brought forth pure pandemonium. As they walked out into the clearing, several gorels noticed their arrival and turned to face them. But not all the gorels present realized they were there. There was a lot of infighting, and most of the critters seemed too preoccupied with fighting each other to pay much attention to the two of them. Freddy swung a spiked fist at the head of a charging guard, and just as it became lights out for the monster¡ªthe fake sun above was also extinguished. He winced, seeing close to nothing in the absolute darkness. ¡°It just had to go out now, didn¡¯t it?¡± he cursed as he swung a fist toward the second incoming gorel, predicting where it would go and smashing its head without any trouble. ¡°Wait,¡± Sophia said as she got closer to whisper to him. ¡°Isn¡¯t this a good thing? I can see in the dark by focusing on the life force, and you can also see at least something, no?¡± He scowled. With two-star perception he could indeed see ¡°something.¡± A very vague outline of the world around him was just barely visible. It was hard to tell any details apart, and all he caught of the black-furred monsters was the occasional shifting in the shadows. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. They spent a good part of their time there in the darkness, but during those times, they usually focused on tempering, physical training, and gathering. He couldn¡¯t see well enough to fight in the dark. His eyes slowly adapted to the darkness, but it wasn¡¯t enough to undo the disadvantage. He took a deep breath. ¡°I¡¯m gonna try something. Be ready with a heal if it fails.¡± ¡°Okay.¡± Swiftly, he brought three perception-boosting pills out of his storage ring. He still had quite a few of them. He had never taken more than one at a time. He swallowed them and washed them down with some water he generated with Create Water. The materialized liquid would evaporate before long, but it did its job by getting the pills to his stomach. At first, he felt fine. But then it started. A piercing headache sparked in the back of his head and slowly moved down his spine. He groaned. ¡°What did you do? Are you good?¡± she asked. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m¡±¡ªhe slowly breathed out through gritted teeth¡ª¡±I¡¯m good.¡± It was terrible, but it wasn¡¯t enough to knock him out. He was already quite used to taking them, so he could tolerate the effect. The sound of gorel movement was so damn loud in his ears that he couldn¡¯t hear his own thoughts. But as he focused, his sight grew slightly clearer. The pills couldn¡¯t give him night vision, but they could allow him to more easily differentiate the things he could see. Within a few seconds, he could track where the monsters were, and after ten more, he could roughly estimate their silhouette and how far away they were. It was far from a perfect solution, but it was good enough to handle a couple of monsters. He just hoped they didn¡¯t encounter any cultists. Thankfully, the darkness provided them with a cover. It would be far more difficult to spot them moving in these circumstances. And, just like that, they proceeded forward. The gorels rarely relied on their sight, but their hearing and sense of smell were essentially useless at that moment. The smell of blood was everpresent in the air, and the sounds of screaming, rustling, and hissing were deafening. Being thrown into near-total darkness, on top of all that? They couldn¡¯t tell up from down or left from right. The chaos added to the disorientation, and as a result, barely any of the monsters caught wind of them. At first, landing strikes was tricky. Freddy¡¯s perception of three-dimensional space was quite unreliable, dark as his surroundings were, but with time, he got better at it. With every gorel he snuck up on, his headache eased slightly. Sophia mostly stood to the side, letting Freddy handle most of the combat. His endurance was several times greater than hers, so it was best to spare her reserves. While he wasn¡¯t thrilled by it initially, the darkness was a huge help. The monsters were sitting ducks in these circumstances, and Freddy was a merciless hunter. His Gore Knuckles were no longer breaking apart unless he really abused them, so it rarely took more than a single swing to finish a gorel off. Even if they didn¡¯t die outright, the wounds his strikes left behind were like open faucets of blood, courtesy of the dagger he held. The only thing he was worried about was the possibility of deviants appearing. A fear that was soon justified. Freddy swung at one of the smaller workers and felt the spikes sink into its back. The creature screamed and turned around. Its maw suddenly lit up with orange flames. Freddy¡¯s whole body was washed over with scorching fire, searing his skin and blinding him. Sophia jumped in a moment later, cutting the deviant¡¯s head off with her shortsword and healing him. The damage was substantial, but a single spark was enough to almost completely erase it. ¡°Your talent is bullshit,¡± he chirped as he got back up to his feet, blinking away the blurry spots in his vision. ¡°Be more careful,¡± she whispered. ¡°Aim for the head next time.¡± ¡°Aight,¡± he said, gulping as they continued their advance. They kept moving through the forest, and no matter how long he fought, he saw no reason to expend his essence. He wasn¡¯t even growing tired. His body was incredibly tense throughout the whole walk, but his training wasn¡¯t just for show. The culmination of all the absurd methods he had used to empower himself was bearing fruit. As one gorel after another died from his brutal assault, he started racking up quite the body count. He repeatedly consulted Bloodshed to ensure that all the blood he spilled up to that point would count towards Blood Sacrifice. Before long, he encountered a beast he had never seen¡ªa royal guard. Its form was almost identical to to those of gorels, but it was far larger in size, and it stood upright, having a far less pronounced hunch on its back. Standing three meters in height, it tore rival gorels apart like they were made of tofu. Each of its claws was the size of a sword. The two of them gave the monster a wide berth. Defeating it was by no means impossible, but it was a completely unnecessary risk. The darkness was stifling, and all it would take was one good swing to cleave through both of them, turning them into helpless chunks of undead meat waiting to be devoured in the tide of berserk monsters. Surprisingly quickly, they reached the vicinity of one of the passages. All they had to do then was summon Bloodshed and rush forward. Swallowing, Freddy eyed the direction they were heading in, taking deep breaths to calm his nerves. His heart was hammering in his chest, and sweat was pooling along his skin. ¡°You know what?¡± he said as he turned to face Sophia. ¡°I don¡¯t think we should go immediately. We have the darkness on our side, so getting as much blood as possible would be better.¡± Sophia winced at that. ¡°What if the day returns?¡± she asked. ¡°We shouldn¡¯t get greedy. Let¡¯s go while we have the advantage.¡± ¡°No,¡± he denied, ¡°we can take our time. How long has it been? An hour? Even if we get really unlucky, I¡¯m collecting more blood than I thought I would,¡± he said as he stepped forward and killed another gorel to ensure the blood accumulation wouldn¡¯t reset. ¡°I can get a really good Blood Sacrifice going if we keep this up.¡± She remained silent for a long moment, then breathed out. ¡°Okay then,¡± she agreed. He nodded, and they continued. Their journey wasn¡¯t without hiccups. At one point, they came across a deviant with a nature affinity, which proceeded to douse his whole body with acidic poison. At another point, they assaulted a light-affinity gorel, which proceeded to use blinding flash, not only taking their vision away but also attracting a damn flood of gorels in their direction by acting as a beacon in the darkness. Add another close encounter with a royal guard, a deviant firing shards of ice from an unknown location, and a sudden surge of gorels as they stepped too close to a hive, and they had quite the ride. They survived each time, but the small costs of their overextension were beginning to accumulate. Sophia had used four sparks, and she had only managed to find enough time to replenish two of them, leaving her with three heals total and only half her essence. She was struggling in ways other than that, too. She was exhausted. While Freddy had no problem with dehydration due to his reserves of blood and body full of compressed water, Sophia had no such fail-safes. She had a canteen of water in her storage ring¡ªit didn¡¯t take long for it to run dry. Freddy was doing a lot better, but cracks were beginning to show, too. His body was starting to show signs of fatigue, subtle as they might have been. No matter how much he improved it, his body still had limits. Remaining tense and combat-ready for hours on end was simply too much. His essence reserves were fully topped off, but he had been using Hydraulic Flex more and more, and the reflux essence floating in his body was starting to accumulate. He swung a fist at a huge guard, crushing its face. Several of the spikes on his Gore Knuckles broke off, and he had to reconstruct them. ¡°I think that¡¯s enough,¡± he said after several hours of fighting through the forest. ¡°You think?¡± she said, gulping for air. ¡°How much are you at? You must be at least twice over what you did last time.¡± ¡°Not even close,¡± he said with a wry chuckle. ¡°According to Bloodshed, we¡¯re only a quarter there.¡± ¡°A quarter!?¡± she screamed, then anxiously looked around as she lowered her voice. ¡°How big was that monster you killed!?¡± she scream-whispered. ¡°This is still a lot,¡± he said, unable to restrain a grin. ¡°Trust me.¡± At even just a quarter of the power of that titanic monster he summoned the last time? They were about to create quite the distraction, to say the least. Besides, he hadn¡¯t mentioned the influence of his ring¡ªnot only would it reduce the cost of the spell, it would also empower its effect. Given that cost reduction in this case simply meant that the blood would be worth more, the effect was pretty much just a double amplification. Freddy kicked a nearby gorel in the head and turned to Sophia. ¡°Are you ready?¡± ¡°Wait, shouldn¡¯t we get closer to the passage first?¡± she urged him. ¡°Nah,¡± he said, dismissively waving a hand. ¡°We¡¯re going to follow Bloodshed as it moves through the realm. Summoning it can take a while, and I don¡¯t want them to interrupt me,¡± he said as he plunged his spiky fist into another monster. ¡°Wait, can you move around with those tentacles on land?¡± he asked the skeleton. ¡°Tentacles!?¡± Sophia interjected, then slammed her mouth shut. ¡°How does a skeleton have tentacles¡­?¡± ¡°Master¡­¡± the skeleton spirit started hesitantly. ¡°I will not have the same form this time.¡± Freddy froze. ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°When summoned through Blood Sacrifice, my form is random, partly influenced by the source of blood.¡± His mouth pinched into a tight line. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell me that sooner?¡± he asked. ¡°I apologize, Master,¡± Bloodshed said. ¡°You never requested that information, and I failed to realize its importance.¡± He breathed out. ¡°Okay, can you at least tell me what you¡¯ll look like this time? ¡°My form will be bipedal; that is all I can say for certain.¡± ¡°Will that be enough to move?¡± ¡°I will manage,¡± it said. That was good enough. With that out of the way, they were ready. ¡°Cover for me, Sophia,¡± he requested of the woman. She was pretty exhausted, but Freddy had to stop fighting for his ability to activate. Without further ado, he sank to the ground, breathing out and doing his best to relax. The seconds felt like they dragged on for hours, but less than two breaths later, he felt the shell in his soul click. Unhesitantly, he activated Blood Sacrifice. The world shifted. Sophia nearly stumbled as her eyes bulged, and she looked around. ¡°Why does it feel like the world is bleeding!?¡± The gorels around them could sense the same thing, and in a single moment, the volume of the screams amplified exponentially as every monster in the surrounding area spun around, seeking the source of the horrible power. Blood flowed towards them like a crimson river, washing over the grass, trees, rocks, and corpses on its journey to the center. Above Freddy¡¯s head, a large sphere of blood started to gather. It grew, going from the size of a watermelon to the size of a large carriage. And then it kept growing. Drop by drop, cell by cell, the mass of liquid formed a spherical pool. It began to roil, glowing with a sinister red light. Once the final drop of blood landed on the surface, the sphere expanded, growing ten times in size as it slowly morphed into a massive skeleton. With an explosion of bright red blood essence, the form of Bloodshed crystalized¡ªslightly hunched with disproportionately long arms, the image of a hellish giant dripping in blood loomed over the forest, reaching over 15 meters in height. Long, sharp spikes lined its spine, and its skull formed a bony construct akin to a crown. The essence slowly seeped into Bloodshed¡¯s bones, casting the skeleton and the surrounding forest into darkness yet again. Sophia dropped her sword, her mouth turned as far down as it could go, as she quivered in terror at the sight. ¡°It¡­ It¡­ It was fo-fo-four times bi-bigger last time?¡± she asked carefully. Freddy cackled gleefully as he observed Bloodshed¡¯s glorious form. Their situation was still far from settled, but with his mind hazy from the fatigue, he couldn¡¯t resist the desire to laugh. It was hard to not feel invincible with something like this on their side. ¡°Let¡¯s go, Bloodshed!¡± he commanded. ¡°Charge to the passage!¡± But the skeleton didn¡¯t budge. ¡°Bloodshed?¡± Freddy reached tentatively. Although he couldn¡¯t see the skeleton¡¯s form clearly in the dark, he could tell that it was just standing there. No¡­ its head was turned up, facing the sky. They felt a tremor beneath their feet as Bloodshed slowly raised a long arm, lifting it with the sound of trees bending out of the way and branches snapping as it reached for the sky. ¡°What the hell is it doing?¡± Freddy muttered while Sophia rushed over to him and aggressively pulled on his shirt, urging him to run away. ¡°Calm down!¡± he shouted at the woman. ¡°It¡¯s under my control, it¡¯s just¡ª¡± His words were interrupted when a bright light flickered through the entire realm. For a brief moment, the night turned to day, only to plunge back into darkness almost instantly. Now, either that was the shortest day ever recorded in this realm, or¡­ The realm brightened again. The false sun above started glowing, flickering like a faulty lightbulb as a deafening sound echoed through the realm. Both of them could clearly see the image of bloodshed reaching into the sky, its skeletal face turned up to face the false sun. Its bony fingers slowly closed, clasping as if trying to pull something to itself. And pull something, it did. The luminous sun started flickering more aggressively as cracks spread throughout it, and like a sheet of glass, the sky ruptured, exploding into a collection of crumbling shards. The sun began rotating, swirling into a spiral as it slowly fell apart, drifting away into a ring that slowly turned a shade of orange, then crimson. The entire realm glowed with red light, dimly illuminating the horizons. An object slowly descended from where the sky had been and placed itself into Bloodshed¡¯s open hand. Chapter 87 - Disturbance A small, isolated room lay deep within the Tomb of Harrkanna, down a meandering path and past a long line of corpses doused in black ooze. The only way to enter it was to pull on several hidden levers, and there was nothing of substance within. In fact, the room was a trap. Around a minute after being opened, the massive stone slammed down and trapped anyone who had entered within. The only way to break out was by force, which would trigger another trap. That was no problem for the people in that room¡ªfor they had stepped into the trap of their own volition. The stone wasn¡¯t too difficult to break through, and the subsequent trap¡ªa volley of bolts¡ªwasn¡¯t an issue to dodge or defend against. Jacob slumped against the wall, breathing out once the entrance finally closed. This place would keep them safe for the time being. He pulled a small crystal out of his storage ring. It was an amber color, fashioned in a diamond shape, and hung off a chain. With a finger, he manipulated the stone on the wall he was slumped against to create a small hook, on which he proceeded to hang the strange artifact. While it hardly looked like it, it produced oxygen. It was used for delving into realms where the airflow might be restricted. Typically, it was hung around the neck. A cheap one wouldn¡¯t have been able to support the small crowd in that room, but his would be more than enough. The room was big enough for everyone present to rest comfortably but not nearly big enough to ensure any degree of privacy, leaving the residents with only around a meter of free space on either side. There were 11 people in that room. Every single person there looked worn out and haggard. The only individual who looked even remotely fine was the armored man, but that was most likely because the heavy armor was hiding his actual condition. Still, he obviously hadn¡¯t suffered any significant injuries during the fight, either due to luck or skill. The hours passed. In a blink, those hours turned into days. Nobody knew how long they would have to wait in that room, but it was best to stay as long as possible, preferably until a rescue team discovered them. But how long would that take? Days? Weeks? Months? They had discussed the possibilities several times, but conversations rarely lasted long and were barely initiated. Few among them were willing to speak for long, at least at the start. But after more than a day in almost total silence elapsed, the quiet grew too heavy to bear for some of them. Phillip and Karen were the first to open up, followed by three of the four strangers¡ªthe Asian woman, the tall, tan man, and the bald, short guy. The armored man remained seated, enjoying his newly acquired personal space as the others bunched up and freed a good part of the room. Beatrice and Theodore were located on the opposite ends of one another and doing their best not to look at each other. But less than two days into their isolation, Theodore moved over to her, and they started talking in whispers. Not that whispering did them any good¡ªpretty much everyone there had hearing good enough to tell what they were arguing about. Jacob spied on them rather often, trying anything to get his mind off what happened. He had to admit, it was quite the show. There was much fighting and stubborn insistence at first¡ªblame, blame, and more blame being thrown back and forth like a hot potato. It was as if they were spilling all their anguish out on one another. But¡­ eventually, they started opening up. They talked about their dead friends, how much they missed them, how much they hated themselves, and all their regrets. Before long, they stopped throwing blame and started taking some instead. Then, they started dropping some juicy bombshells. Apparently, Theodore had proposed the divorce in the heat of the moment, lashing out when Beatrice reacted poorly to hearing the news. And who wouldn¡¯t respond poorly? Theodore had decided to ascend and leave the party without discussing it with her, effectively backstabbing their closest friends and leaving them without a safe way to make ends meet. Jacob didn¡¯t give a shit about some random losers, but anyone with half a brain could have predicted that they wouldn¡¯t be too thrilled to break their party up so suddenly. He didn¡¯t openly admit it, but Theo indirectly hinted that he had only suggested the divorce to win the argument. Naturally, when his wife bagged another guy that same day, it became pretty hard to take the suggestion back. At this point, pretty much everyone was just pretending to discuss other things while secretly paying attention to the conversation between the two of them. Things got super heated at times, with Beatrice mentioning that time he cheated on her. Ouch. He tried pulling the ¡°I¡¯m a man, so it¡¯s different¡± argument, prompting the Asian woman to step in, joining in on their fight. Little by little, the others got involved, too, and eventually, most of the group had a heated debate about relationships. At a few points, people nearly threw hands, but when everything cooled down, it was as if an iceberg had been melted away. Jack and Jean openly mourned the death of their life-long friend. Phillip professed how afraid he was and how traumatized this whole thing left him, even going as far as to openly declare that he was done with fighting for the rest of his life. Jacob wanted to call him a coward and a pathetic worm. But for some reason, he found it hard to even open his mouth. Karen shared her tale of hesitation, confessing her inadequacies and shortcomings. But, despite the severity of her panic during the fight, it was evident that she was the least scarred among them. A clear resolve rang through her words as she declared her intent to pick her sword back up and move on. Her bravery and resolve were inspiring, if even cheesier than Phillip¡¯s attempts to flirt with the woman. The three strangers added their own parts. At this point, their hideout became a full-on group therapy session, with only Jacob and the armored man remaining quiet for the most part. While nobody paid much attention to the armored man, Jacob¡¯s party members were glancing at him more and more often. But his tongue felt like it was tied into a knot. Every time he opened his mouth, it was as if his throat was sealed shut. However, little by little, the thorns wrapped around his neck were pulled away, one expectant glance at a time. He felt tears slowly pool at the edges of his eyes. He held them back, but he finally spoke. ¡°I didn¡¯t really love her,¡± he said, chuckling a bit. ¡°I was with her because she was hot, and she was with me because I¡¯m rich.¡± That earned him scornful looks, but he laughed them off and continued. ¡°Honestly, she was an annoyance. I had been hoping to find someone to replace her role in the party so I could finally dump her ass and get it over with. ¡°I just wish¡±¡ªhis voice broke, and he found it hard to continue¡ª¡±I just wish I could have told her to eat shit while kicking her out of my place, you know? I wish she had angrily thrown my things at me while calling me an asshole.¡± He finally broke down, covering his face with one hand as he wept. ¡°She didn¡¯t deserve this, man. Fucking hell.¡± The room grew still as people silently watched him break down. ¡°I couldn¡¯t do shit in that fight,¡± he said, taking a deep breath and putting his hand down. ¡°I fucking hate myself, and I hate this stupid talent. I don¡¯t think I¡¯m gonna be delving for a while. I¡¯m not sure this is the life for me.¡± Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. Out of all the people there, Theodore got up first, walked over to him, and silently placed a hand on his shoulder. Once Jacob was done, that only left the armored man. After everyone had given him enough glances, he finally shrugged. ¡°Do not look at this geezer, children,¡± he stated in a strangely aged voice, surprising the people present as nobody had heard him speak until then. ¡°I have too many scars over my heart to cry any longer.¡± He looked up at the ceiling. ¡°Take my advice¡ªbe prepared for the world to betray you. If there is any one fate we mortals share¡­ it is to eventually stumble into misery.¡± Internally, the man wondered what he was feeling through his main body. The realm was filled with turmoil, and an underlying¡­ bloodthirst echoed in the background. Could this be the phenomenon they call the Crimson Twilight¡­? he mused. It had come inordinately early. But that didn¡¯t matter. It had no influence on his plan. *** The sky above shone a crimson light. The sounds of gorel screams rang intensely throughout the realm as the monsters slaughtered one another en masse. Beneath the thin canopy of a sparsely overgrown forest, two people stood, observing the form of a giant, bloody skeleton. Freddy watched the sinister object settle in Bloodshed¡¯s open palm, gaping in awe and terror. It was a mummified arm with claw-tipped fingers. It almost appeared small in Bloodshed¡¯s titanic hand, but it must have belonged to a creature multiple times larger than a human. ¡°What the hell is that!?¡± Sophia cried, shifting her gaze between Freddy and Bloodshed. ¡°Master!¡± Bloodshed¡¯s voice sounded in Freddy¡¯s head, more urgent than he had ever heard it. ¡°I lost control over the summoned body.¡± ¡°You what!?¡± Freddy screamed. ¡°What the fuck is controlling it, then!?¡± ¡°I do not know,¡± Bloodshed insisted. ¡°The body was overwhelmed by the aura of bloodthirst coming from that limb. Master¡­ ¡°Run.¡± The bloody skeleton raised its head and screeched, emitting a sound akin to a collapsing building. The empty eye sockets inside the skull glowed red as the skull shifted to face Freddy and Sophia. The two of them didn¡¯t hesitate. Sophia¡¯s legs morphed, and Freddy used a Hydraulic Flex with both stars activated. The two of them dashed outside the range of a skeletal hand swinging down with the might of a titan. The arm made contact with the ground, lifting a giant cloud of dust as the earth shifted beneath Freddy¡¯s feet. Everything around him grew blurry as the floor fell from below him. The surface collapsed underground, falling into the depths of what had recently been a gorel hive. As he tumbled around 20 meters down, a massive stone collapsed on the upper side of his body, breaking several bones and crushing his entire right arm. He barely managed to save his head. He wanted to curse, but all that left his mouth was blood as he hacked, emptying his full lungs. A moment later, another massive impact sounded, and this time, a rush of healing pulsed through his body. ¡°What the¡ª¡± He didn¡¯t have time to question it. His mangled arm detached as a new one started growing back, and with another massive impact sending tremors through the world around him, the short, deformed stump lengthened, growing out just slightly past his elbow. The bleeding had halted all throughout his body, and the parts that had been damaged were patched over with pink tissue. ¡°What¡¯s happening!?¡± ¡°Master,¡± Bloodshed called. ¡°That creature is still a product of your ability.¡± ¡°Right!¡± he confirmed. His talent was still triggered by the damage it did. Thankfully, the rock had crushed his right arm. Had it been his left¡­ He looked over at the two rings and the dagger, and a shiver went down his spine. He had to be more careful. This turn of events complicated things, but their plan hadn¡¯t failed yet. This would still work as a distraction. ¡°Freddy!¡± Sophia called from above, looking down the pitfall. ¡°I¡¯m alive!¡± he yelled. ¡°Get up!¡± she screamed. ¡°We have to leave!¡± ¡°No shit!¡± He looked around, desperately searching for a way up. It was easier said than done. He could hear the movements of the giant skeleton coming from the opposite direction of where Sophia stood waiting for him. It seemed to be busy slaughtering gorels. Still, its attack had collapsed a large section of land, and there were no easy ways up. Freddy was located inside a section of an underground complex, with numerous tight holes scattered throughout the sides of the pit. The whole place aggressively stank of gorel poo mixed with the scent of wet dog and mold, but he wasn¡¯t in the mood to care about that. His neck whipped left to right as he looked for a perch. At the same time, another pulse of healing moved through his body, and more tremors shook the earth. A large part of the soil broke off and fell near him. Groaning, he defended himself from an incoming boulder. His missing arm had mostly grown back, but it wasn¡¯t all there yet. The tips of his fingers were missing, his skin was raw, and the healing quality was still just barely supernatural. His arm was a far cry from a fully functional limb, and his wounded back wasn¡¯t helping, either. Still, he gritted his teeth and leaped, feeling an intense burst of pain spread down the left side of his lower back and into his left leg as he caught himself on a ledge leading into one of the tunnels. He was still gripping the dagger in his left hand, and now, he used it to stab into the stone to keep him in place. He pulled himself up and came face to face with an angry gorel guard. The monster tried assaulting him, but Freddy used his regrowing arm as a shield. The gorel bit into his wrist, and Freddy whipped his whole arm back, launching the monster down into the pit. It only tumbled a few meters, but it had no easy way to get back up to where he was. With a grunt, Freddy pulled himself up into the tunnel and scouted his options. Left without much choice, he leaped again, reaching another tunnel and grabbing onto the brittle edge. The stone shifted beneath his arm, and for a long moment, he felt his perch loosen. Thankfully, it didn¡¯t break. ¡°Wait!¡± Sophia yelled from above as she threw a rope down. ¡°Did you just now remember you had this!?¡± he complained, but¡ª ¡°Shut up and climb!¡± Growling, he put his dagger in his mouth and grabbed onto the rope with his left arm. Sophia struggled mightily to lift him up. With his absurd muscle mass, newly acquired thick bone structure, and rather advanced Abyssal Depths, he weighed a considerable amount. He did his best to help himself up by supporting himself with his legs and the still-regrowing arm, and before long, he made it up to the surface. He was greeted by the sight of Sophia getting slashed across her back by the gleaming claws of a berserk gorel, only for her to heal her injury and then kick the monster away. Freddy conjured his spikes and crushed the creature¡¯s head, killing it instantly. ¡°Come on, let¡¯s go!¡± he urged. She nodded, breathing heavily, and followed after him. Constant tension was absurdly exhausting. Being continuously ready for battle and making one¡¯s way through a warzone like this was more exhausting than running a marathon. The enhanced physique of an archhuman helped dramatically to deal with this expenditure, but at the first star, an arch was barely more than an ordinary human. Sophia appeared haggard, breathing heavily and barely keeping her head straight as she followed after Freddy, limping and stumbling. As expected, a situation like this was far too much for her to handle. They had overdone it, thinking they¡¯d get a reprieve once they summoned Bloodshed. Without hesitation, Freddy picked Sophia up and threw her over his shoulder. She didn¡¯t even as much as twitch in protest, simply slumping over and coughing as she tried catching her breath. He rushed forth, leaping wildly as he did his best to avoid the incoming attacks of rabid beasts. Mentally, he tried remembering exactly where they were and used the information to reorient himself. They had to circle around the massive skeleton to reach the closest passage. The area closest to the strange artifact seemed to be most affected by its berserk-inducing properties, making it extremely perilous, but he didn¡¯t have the luxury of picking which path they would go down. Without further ado, he focused, holding Sophia tight as he activated Hydraulic Flex in passive mode and sprinted. Pulse after pulse of healing flowed into his body, gradually reconstructing his arm until it was eventually perfect. Well, nearly perfect. Its shape was the same as it had been, but it felt¡­ sore. The last time his talent regrew a limb, it had regrown his whole damn body, and he hadn¡¯t had the contrast needed to feel anything off with his reconstructed physique. Now that he had two arms to compare, he immediately noticed something disconcerting¡ªthe arm he had lost felt considerably weaker than its counterpart. No, that wasn¡¯t the right way to put it. Their strength and build were identical, but the regrown arm was¡­ empty. It was as if most of the energy stored within his muscle tissue hadn¡¯t been brought back with the limb. He had already known that his talent couldn¡¯t undo exhaustion, but this was still a surprise. However, as he ran forth, he felt his sore limb gradually regaining some of its strength, most likely through absorbing sugar content from his blood. That was good, especially since his other arm was preoccupied with holding an adult woman in place. For the most part, he only defended himself against incoming attacks, relying on the sudden source of healing to fix up any wounds that slipped through. Before long, he made it to a clearing that was close to the passage and swiftly looked for the path that would take him there. He found it. Pushing past a crowd of gorels, eventually, the population of the monsters thinned¡ªbut then he spotted something concerning. A different type of monster appeared. Chapter 88 - A Job Well Done Freddy spotted a creature fighting a gorel worker. The size difference between the two monsters was stark, with the small, dog-sized gorel looking minuscule compared to the massive, nearly horse-sized freaky camel monster¡ªa nebber. The strange being had a stubby, bulky body akin to a bear''s, but its neck was elongated. Compared to a camel, which had a stiff neck, the neck of the nebber was akin to that of a snake, coiling and shifting side to side as it confronted the small gorel in mortal combat. Its head was unusual, too, with flat, goofy features looking almost as if they were squished against a circular glass container. Its flabby mouth drooled with moderately venomous spit. Freddy had read about nebbers and knew exactly which realm they had arrived from. It was one of the two elite-difficulty realms accessible through the gorel realm. What stood out the most with the freaky monster wasn¡¯t its size or unusual looks¡ªit was its surprising lack of power. Although the gorel worker looked like an angry lap dog barking away at the massive creature, it came out on top in the confrontation. The gorel¡¯s primitive Tectonic Strikes were breaking the nebber¡¯s legs with ease, and once it was downed, the gorel proceeded to crush the creature¡¯s skull like a watermelon. Dumb as they might have been, gorels were no joke when paired against an equally stupid enemy. Ignoring the sight before him, Freddy gritted his teeth and ran past the dead nebber, rushing toward the realm he was trying to escape into. That a nebber had made it this far out wasn¡¯t good news. Before long, his suspicions were confirmed. At first, it was a small group, but before long, such a thick mass of nebbers appeared that it was difficult to make progress. Freddy pushed past them, smashing them out of his way as he kept progressing while anxiously looking around. The elite realm they were heading into was thoroughly crowded by these beings, but they weren¡¯t the reason why it was considered an elite-difficulty realm. After pushing past the mass of bodies for a while, he finally came across the main reason for that classification. Every single hair on Freddy¡¯s body stood on end as he swiftly leaped behind a tree, trying to calm his beating heart as it threatened to burst out of his chest. The sound of heavy footsteps echoed through the forest, and with a screech, another monster rushed forth, shredding several gorels with its long, thin arms. A giant creature stood on two legs. Its whole body was covered in pitch black, thin muscles, and its head looked like a goat skull. Its empty eye sockets glowed neon green with the sickening light of miasma flowing out of them. Its two horns curled behind its back. The horrifying creature produced deep clicking noises as it searched for more prey. It was a capragorn. If it came to a fight, Freddy was¡­ well, ¡°confident¡± wasn¡¯t the right word, but winning was possible. But it was too risky. Its claws weren¡¯t as intimidating as those of the royal guard gorel, but they dripped with a gleaming liquid, and any drops that fell to the ground sizzled with the sound of acidic burning. One good slash across Freddy¡¯s bare, unprotected chest might very well be enough to take him out. Coupled with the dazed, barely conscious Sophia, whom he held over his left shoulder, trying to tackle the beast was a stupid idea. Freddy waited for several suffocating breaths, and before long, the creature had wandered away in a different direction. He peeked around the tree to check where it had gone and saw it walk past a small group of nebbers, completely ignoring the dumb beasts. The scariest thing about capragorns was that they were no mindless creatures searching for food. They didn¡¯t even need food to live. The reason why the realm was flooded by the nebbers was due to the capragorns, who intentionally ignored the dumb beasts to use them as bait to lure prey into their realm. Those creatures were much like the cultists who were using gorels as bait. Naturally, Freddy wasn¡¯t thrilled to be heading into the natural habitat of such monsters. But it was their best choice. Such a dangerous realm was the least likely to be heavily guarded by the cultists. He pushed his way forward, continuously moving past the endless stream of monsters. At one point, he became genuinely concerned about his odds of even making it to his destination. Whatever the hell that artifact had done seemed to have a magnetic effect on the monsters. Sophia had estimated that it would take as long as three months for this realm to reach a critical mass of monsters, resulting in a stampede break into Nova York. But with these conditions? Freddy wouldn¡¯t be surprised if they had already reached that goal. He swung his fist, breaking a nebber¡¯s neck and pushing its body aside as he leaped forward. At this point, he had to use Hydraulic Flex to keep jumping over the stampede of beasts. Soon enough, he couldn¡¯t even land anymore. He grabbed a thick branch with his free hand, holding the dagger between his teeth and Sophia over his shoulder. The woman heaved, sounding like she was about to puke, but Freddy didn¡¯t have the time to care. While the thought of a shirtless man carrying a woman and swinging from one tree to another conjured thoughts of Tarzan, the reality of Freddy¡¯s improvised transportation method was far less glamorous. He climbed up on a thick branch and jumped from one tree to another using Hydraulic Flex. Rather than land with the grace of a ninja or grab onto a hanging vine, he slammed stomach-first into a thick branch, accidentally breaking Sophia¡¯s legs and knocking the air out of his chest. The woman screamed, hurriedly burning a spark to fix her legs, and Freddy groaned as a nebber extended its long head and bit his calf, trying to pull him down to the ground. With supernatural strength, aided by a strong sense of urgency, Freddy pulled himself, Sophia, and the damn nebber, which refused to let go of his leg, up into the tree. As soon as he could release his grip on the branch, he grabbed the monster¡¯s head and crushed it. As yet another powerful tremor echoed through the realm as whatever was controlling the bloody skeleton slaughtered another mass of monsters, the wound on Freddy¡¯s leg vanished as if it had never been there. He continued on his way, trying to ensure he didn¡¯t trip and fall into the stampede below. The realm was quite close, and Freddy could already see the passage. There were no more monsters exiting, and for a long moment, he held the hope that all the monsters had already evacuated it, which would make his life far more straightforward. ¡°Please¡­¡± Sophia begged. ¡°No more¡ªhurgh.¡± She heaved. ¡°No more trees.¡± Freddy involuntarily chuckled, feeling a slight sense of relief. ¡°Sure thing.¡± He dropped to the ground below, which had already thinned considerably. A few nebbers tried assaulting him, but thankfully, there were no capragorns in sight. He swiftly dispatched the assailants and made his way forth. He gulped. There was a small clearing between the forested area and the open passage. Nobody was standing anywhere near the open portal, but that by no means meant that it wasn¡¯t being watched. With a thundering screech, the bloody skeleton swung its massive arm again, and Freddy felt a pulse of soothing lifesteal ineffectually course through his body, having nothing to heal or fix. But it did clear his mind slightly. Blood Sacrifice hadn¡¯t gone as planned, but it had still caused a massive distraction. In fact, given that it seemed to be attracting every damn monster in the surrounding area, Freddy wouldn¡¯t be surprised if the cultists had gone to try and take it out, seeing as it might very well wholly ruin their plan. Without the monsters, there was no point in trying to cause a passage break. Now¡­ what would the cultists do? His heart roared in his chest as he pondered the possibilities. Had they rushed off to deal with fake Bloodshed? Freddy wondered. Are they waiting nearby, watching to ensure that nobody enters the passage? No, that makes no sense; they have bigger shit to deal with. There were no more monsters around him. The only things that kept him company were Sophia, the tremors, the eerie, crimson afterglow, the endless cacophony of monsters sounding their fury¡­ and his own thoughts. ¡°Fuck it!¡± he yelled as he ran forth, bursting into the opening with all the speed he could manage. His core tightened, and his legs bulged as he used Hydraulic Flex repeatedly, gathering speed on his dash into the passage. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. He expected a projectile to stab into his back or a cultist to appear from the shadows at any moment, but to his surprise, he entered the passage without any problems. Once inside, a horrific thought struck him¡ªwhat if this tide was too much for cultists as well? What if they were hiding in the passage? Yet, as he opened his eyes and looked around¡­ he found no people present. Or monsters. It was so empty that it appeared uncanny. He turned, spotting the massive tree the passage was carved into, and then looked around. He was in a small, picturesque grove. It didn¡¯t take much walking to get out of the tiny patch of forest and step out into a vast clearing. The realm he entered was a serene sight compared to the nightmare he had walked out of. The sky above was a deep shade of blue, and the land was grassy as far as the eyes could see. Small groves of trees were scattered around the area, and the realm spread for miles in all directions, with what appeared to be a sizeable body of water on one end. Far off, he could see vast herds of nebbers, as those were most likely too far away from the passage to sense the strange artifact¡¯s influence. The grove he was next to was way too close to the passage for comfort, but running out into the grassy plains sounded like a run-in with a capragorn waiting to happen. Rather than run out, Freddy went through the small grove, eventually stumbling upon a tiny cave. Praying to whatever god was willing to listen, he cautiously went inside, hoping against hope that he wasn¡¯t about to enter a capragorn hideout. However, as he made his way in¡­ he found nothing unusual. It was a tiny hole in the ground, just large enough to hide comfortably, with a small entrance that was easy to defend. Some mushrooms grew along the edges, and some loose roots hung from the earthen ceiling. He carefully placed Sophia down and looked around, combing through the dirt, pulling the roots, and lightly punching the walls to ensure that he hadn¡¯t stumbled into a trap. He even gave the mushrooms a taste. But there was nothing. No monsters, no cultists, no traps, no pitfalls, no danger¡­ just¡­ nothing. Even the mushroom seemed to be edible. He pulled a large stone and placed it before the small entrance, closing the hole off, and walked back, sitting beside Sophia. The summoned skeleton still triggered his talent despite a whole realm separating him from the action. But that wasn¡¯t the only thing that was being influenced. ¡°Holy shit!¡± he exclaimed as he took a look at his ethercosm. He was at 187% capacity. And just as he looked at it, the amount increased to 188%. He couldn¡¯t hold back a light chuckle. ¡°What are you laughing about¡­?¡± Sophia eked out, barely keeping her eyes open. ¡°Nothing for you to worry about,¡± he said as he patted her head. ¡°Go to sleep. I¡¯ll watch for danger.¡± She nodded, closing her eyes and immediately losing consciousness. It would have been good for her to eat something first, but she¡¯d live. As he sat in the darkness, nothing but a single, lonely ray of light illuminating the hiding spot, he finally accepted it. They were actually safe. Their plan had worked. He winced as he felt the turbulent reflux essence flicker inside his body. He had no clue how much essence he had spent in the last few hours. Given the fact that the giant skeleton was in the middle of murdering a horde of monsters, the influx of ether was keeping him wholly topped off with essence. But he had used a lot. Far too much. The sheer volume of lifesteal kept the worst of the aftereffects at bay, but it was doing nothing to purge the excess essence flowing through his body. With a deep breath, he closed his eyes and focused on meditation. Eventually, the bloody skeleton would stop fighting, and Freddy would face the consequences of the essence buildup. Thankfully, he hadn¡¯t spent nearly as much blood essence as water essence. That would have been far more likely to kill him. But still, given that water reflux essence rapidly dehydrated the user, he wasn¡¯t looking forward to it. In fact, unless he managed to purge a good deal of the excess essence, he might very well be mummified on the spot. Thus, he closed his eyes and got started. The massive body of water in the distance wasn¡¯t just a decoration. The surrounding Netherecho was bursting with water wisps, and without further ado, he got to gathering, gradually calming his raging insides and getting closer and closer to tranquility. *** ¡°Focus on its legs!¡± the scorpion-tailed woman¡ªIllya¡ªcommanded, dodging the attack of an enraged royal guard as she spat, dashing back and watching the fight''s progress. This damn skeleton had appeared out of nowhere, and it was in the middle of thoroughly obliterating everything they had worked towards. ¡°Someone get Master!¡± a lowly Servant yelled, swinging his spear to keep several gorels at bay. ¡°Master has said not to disturb him under any circumstances!¡± she spat. ¡°Focus on your work and stay quiet!¡± The mixed mass of monsters made progress towards dispatching the gigantic skeleton impossible. The giant monster raised its bony arm again, and with a startlingly quick swing, it brought it down, crushing two Servants in an instant and kicking up a large cloud of dust. ¡°Goddamn it!¡± Illya screamed, swinging her stinger at a rushing nebber and slashing its throat open. ¡°Damian!¡± she shouted. The bulky figure of Damian, the massive brawler, perked up, turning to face her just as he crushed the head of a capragorn, scattering its cursed miasma into the surroundings. ¡°What is it!?¡± the man shouted as he swung again, smashing the back of his fist into a gorel guard charging at him. ¡°Ignore the monsters!¡± she said. ¡°Peter!¡± she called again, referring to the man levitating around 20 meters away. ¡°Pick Damian up and throw him on top of the skeleton!¡± ¡°But the backlash¡ª¡± the man was about to protest, but¡ª ¡°Do as I say!¡± she screamed, leaping away from the pesky royal guard that was still after her. ¡°Hurry!¡± she commanded. Peter growled, rushing over to the bulky form of Damian and grabbing the man by the arm. The two men lifted off the ground, and Peter¡¯s skin instantly grew red as his blood pressure spiked tremendously. The more weight he tried levitating off the ground, the greater the stress it exerted on his body. The bulky form of Damian was almost too much to handle, but with their whole agenda on the line, he had no choice but to risk it. Rushing as fast as possible, Peter brought the man over the skeleton¡¯s crowned skull and dropped him down. Almost instantly, the fierce form of the skeletal giant looked up, staring at the falling man with its sinister crimson eyes. Damian grinned despite himself, cocking his arm back as he charged a Tectonic Strike and activated his talent. His first landed just above the skeleton¡¯s upper row of teeth, sending a powerful burst of force through its massive skull. The blood coating the creature splashed in every direction, making the crimson skeleton turn white briefly before more blood oozed through its bones. No more than a thin crack remained from his strike. ¡°Oh boy,¡± Damian called as the skeleton opened its mouth and slammed it shut on his body. He braced himself against its teeth, barely holding it back from chewing him into a mass of pulp. ¡°I¡¯m gonna¡ªugh! I¡¯m gonna need some help!¡± he shouted, and before long, a stream of projectiles flew at the skeleton¡¯s head, slamming its neck and distracting it long enough for Damian to push himself out of its mouth and jump down. Peter caught him mid-fall, slowing him down just enough to prevent fall damage, and even that much was almost enough to make the man faint. The skeletal monster screeched madly, continuing its onslaught unimpeded. Its power was truly remarkable. It was slow, but its destructive capabilities and sheer endurance made it capable of competing with the weakest four-star-class monsters. Illya, the only three-star present, wasn¡¯t nearly powerful enough to quickly dispatch the creature. What proceeded was a grueling fight that lasted for hours. Numerous beasts fell at the crimson skeleton¡¯s bony arms, and at least a dozen cultists lost their lives trying to take it down. By the end, the massive stampede of monsters had been drastically thinned down. Hills of gored flesh and rivers of blood formed beneath the grinning skeleton¡¯s feet. As its body finally started to crumble under the unending assault, it seemed to smile at them, grinning gleefully at the carnage as if to say, ¡°My job is done.¡± Illya watched the giant crumble into inert pieces with an infuriated frown. Her scorpion tail was still. Her brethren stood to the side, most panting heavily and trying to stay on their feet after the grueling battle. By all means, this whole expedition was turning into an utter failure. Master had shared nothing about his side of the plan, keeping it a secret even from Illya. She prayed to Holy Prosperity that his machinations weren¡¯t compromised. Peter landed beside her, keeping his nose plugged with one hand to stave off the continuous stream of blood pouring down it. His eyes appeared bloodshot, and his arms were trembling. Yet he still spoke with all the dignity of a highly-ranked cult member. ¡°We are recovering the strange artifact,¡± he said. ¡°Damian should arrive with it in a few moments.¡± She didn¡¯t respond to the news. A few minutes later, the bulky man, his robes torn and bathed in blood, ran over while carrying a massive limb like a log over his back. ¡°I got it!¡± he said as he approached and threw the object on the ground. Illya observed it, cocking her head. She briefly entered the Netherecho to take a closer look at it. What could only be described as a boiling mass of crimson screams assaulted her senses. A storm of aura roiled around the horrifying object, its power incomparable to anything Illya had ever witnessed first-hand. Her projection was forcefully thrown out of the Netherecho, and she returned to reality with a start, taking a few involuntary steps back before regaining her composure. Peter¡¯s eyes raised slightly. ¡°That powerful?¡± he asked, his brows twisting into a scowl. Illya gulped and nodded. ¡°Indeed. This is a truly bizarre artifact. I have never witnessed anything like it.¡± ¡°Monsters seem to be attracted to it,¡± Damian said, crouching as he took a closer look at the dried limb. ¡°Do you think we could use it as bait to populate the realm?¡± he asked Illya. ¡°Most definitely,¡± she confirmed. ¡°However, I¡¯m not certain that¡¯s the right move.¡± The two men hummed. ¡°Indeed,¡± Peter said, sighing. ¡°Perhaps it''s a bit too attractive. I don¡¯t see a way to redirect the flow of monsters outside the realm once they all bundle around this thing like flies around a pile of cow dung.¡± She nodded, keeping her eyes on the sinister object. ¡°I do wonder what this is¡­¡± she mused. ¡°Whatever it had belonged to must have been unimaginably powerful.¡± ¡°Yeah¡­¡± Peter nodded. ¡°Above five stars for sure.¡± Most of the cultists in earshot swallowed, including Illya. The thought of a power above five stars was¡­ simply unimaginable. But it did exist. ¡°Illya,¡± Peter called. ¡°What are your orders?¡± She thought for a moment, glancing at the artifact, the crimson sky, and the people around her. ¡°Gather the bodies, scavenge the rings,¡± she said. ¡°We¡¯ll take some time to recover, then go from there. The barrier gives us ample time to act. We¡¯re out of live bait, but there is a mountain of flesh here. That will be enough to attract plenty of scavengers.¡± ¡°And what about the arm?¡± Peter asked. She looked at the limb carefully before making a decision. ¡°We¡¯ll try to seal it.¡± Chapter 89 - Cohesion Phillip couldn¡¯t help but think that if a psychological researcher had the opportunity to observe their group throughout their time in the trap room, they would have learned quite a few exciting things. While there was no doubt that some among them, like Jacob, would have preferred to work through their emotions in privacy, it was undeniable that most of them were more than happy to not be alone through their suffering, himself included. That was good and all for the first few days in captivity, but as it stretched on and on, having absolutely zero privacy soon turned into a nightmare. Two-star archhumans had more efficient bodily functions. Everything from breathing, drinking, and eating to going to the toilet operated at greater intervals. There was absolutely no trouble in the first category, but there was plenty of trouble in the second. Naturally, there were tools and methods available for coping with this stuff. This was far from the first time a group of archhumans had to hide in a passage realm for a prolonged period. But those methods had their limits. That was the first problem that made things awkward for the group. The second was Theodore and Beatrice. Those two were satisfying a completely different category of urges, and while they never went as far as to strip bare and go at it like rabbits, they got¡­ shockingly daring at times. For the most part, everyone just kind of looked the other way. But at one point, one of the strangers nearly got into a fight with the two of them. Phillip spent most of his time either trying to talk to Karen or thinking about his future. He had kind of known this from the beginning, but as time passed, it became more obvious that Karen really didn¡¯t want to talk to him. She had humored his conversational attempts many times, most likely just to be polite, but when she hit him with the ¡°I apologize, but I am not in the right mood for a conversation at the moment¡±¡ªyeah¡­ he knew that he had fucked up massively at some point along the line. Was it his eagerness? Maybe he had been a bit too annoying. From the moment he first laid his eyes on her, he had been enchanted with the woman. She radiated a sense of culture and civility, values he greatly appreciated. The woman was also quite¡­ pleasant to the eye. And rich. And from an influential family. And powerful herself. He couldn¡¯t help but lament it. The woman had been out of his league from the very start. True, he was no common rabble, but he was no true elite, either. He¡¯d put himself in the same category as Jacob. At a certain point, he started noticing something odd. People, more specifically, the few women in the room, were giving him strange glances. They weren¡¯t flattering. And then, he realized it¡ªhadn¡¯t he basically been harassing Karen? While some fools could be tricked into thinking he was truly just earnestly fascinated by her as a conversational partner, it was evident that he had a crush. He hadn¡¯t considered it much due to the power difference between them, but¡­ Oh dear God, I was being so creepy, wasn¡¯t I? As time passed, more and more of these small transgressions kept piling up, and as the people within gradually grew more irritatable, these occurrences only grew more common and, eventually, a bit violent. Naturally, everyone present understood that a full-on fight was beyond stupid in these circumstances, and nobody among them had a willpower weak enough to succumb that badly. But that didn¡¯t stop the shouting, Not-so-playful kicks and jabs became commonplace. Even from people Phillip honestly didn¡¯t expect it from, including Karen, who raised her voice in response to something Jean said for the first time since he met her. Surprisingly, it was Theodore who first stepped up to help de-escalate the situation. His suggestion was to task the earth-affinity archs among them with constructing thin barriers around the room, allowing all of them at least an illusion of privacy. This worked surprisingly well. From there, they started organizing party games. This just made everyone even more violent, so they decided to begin strategizing instead. There was a non-zero chance of encountering the terrorists. Sure, they had detailed a few basic plans in case this happened, but there was always more they could do. Besides, even minor improvements gave them confidence and boosted morale. They first recollected absolutely everything they had seen the terrorists do, and eventually, the group was left with a relatively detailed profile of all the ones who survived. Next was a more thorough strategy, both to specifically confront the invaders based on their known powers and better cooperate with one another. And finally, they started sharing tips. Everyone who specialized in something tutored others on improving in that field if it applied to their skills. Jean taught Karen some neat tricks she could do with negative pressure while Karen taught her about swordsmanship. Phillip discussed defensive posture, Jacob gave Jack tips on water abilities, Jack taught Theodore how to use the light affinity to become invisible, and Theodore, who had been struggling with this for a long time because of his poverty and inability to afford tutorship, finally managed to complete the ability, becoming an even more valuable asset in the process. Everyone contributed, everyone gained. Except for one person¡ªthe armored man. The man was by far the least troublesome when it came to conflict. He was quiet and kept to himself, responding with a dismissive yet disarming tone if anyone tried talking to him, and given his elderly aura, nobody bothered him too much. But it became¡­ strange after some point. People got pretty damn talkative in that scenario. Phillip knew some deeply personal stuff about almost everyone there, as none of them had managed to stay entirely out of the conversation, even the ones on the quiet side. But the armored man? Nobody knew a single thing about him. Absolutely nothing. Not his name, not his powers, not his background¡­ Not his allegiance. He was strange. Too strange. Too silent¡ªtoo unbothered. The man could stay eerily still for ridiculous lengths of time, to the point where nobody could tell whether he was awake or asleep. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Eventually, Jacob grew too frustrated with this to remain still and got up to confront him. ¡°Hey, old man,¡± he called rudely. ¡°We have to talk.¡± The armored man turned his helmet head in Jacob¡¯s direction, saying nothing. The burly party leader bent down, squatting right before the silent man as he said authoritatively, ¡°I need you to tell me what you¡¯re capable of. You have stayed out of the conversation for too long. At the very least, I¡¯d like to hear about your talent and affinities.¡± The man remained quiet, simply staying still for almost ten seconds. ¡°You wish to hear about my powers?¡± he asked slowly. ¡°Yes,¡± Jacob confirmed. ¡°And I don¡¯t want to hear any excuses,¡± he added. ¡°If you want to keep your privacy, feel free to go somewhere else.¡± ¡°Jacob!¡± Jean yelled, frowning at him as she got up. ¡°Show some respect!¡± she requested. ¡°Calm down, Jean,¡± Jack said, placating his sister as he turned to face Jacob. ¡°Jacob, there is no need to be rude about it. I¡¯m sure the man will speak if you ask nicely.¡± ¡°¡®The man,¡¯¡± Jacob said, mimicking air quotes with his hands, ¡°isn¡¯t going to say shit. As you can see, ¡®the man¡¯ is the only way you can even refer to him because guess fucking what, we don¡¯t know the man¡¯s name! He has said nothing about himself at any point during our stay here. Does anyone here know anything about him? You don¡¯t.¡± ¡°Jacob, please.¡± Theodore rushed to his feet. ¡°I get your point, but antagonizing the poor guy won¡¯t get him to open up.¡± Jacob squinted, and Theodore walked up to him. ¡°Just step back, okay?¡± he told Jacob. ¡°I¡¯ll take it over from here.¡± ¡°Fine.¡± Theodore walked up to the armored man, sitting on the ground before him and meeting his eyes¡ªor, rather, the empty, black slits in his helmet. ¡°So¡­ what can you tell us about your powers?¡± The man stared at him for a long moment, remaining quiet. The attention of everyone in the room was upon him, but this wasn¡¯t the first time that had happened. Nobody had ever gone this far to get him to speak, however, and the man appeared to break under the pressure. ¡°I sincerely apologize,¡± he said, bowing his head slightly. ¡°This old fart didn¡¯t see that his stubbornness was bringing you anguish. For that, I am genuinely sorry. Very well, then. ¡°My talent allows me to rapidly recover from any harm done to me. It also, in return for severely limiting the amount I can expend at once, provides me with effectively unlimited essence. Physically, my prowess is significantly boosted, and I can see in a 360-degree range, including above and below me. If I am killed, well¡­ it would be pretty inconvenient for a while. ¡°As for my affinities, I have dark, unholy, and ritual, with an emphasis on curses and using material shadows to restrain my opponents. That¡¯s it in broad strokes,¡± the man declared without as much as a hint of humor. ¡°I will not bore you with the finer details unless, of course, there is something else you wish to know?¡± ¡°¡­ No,¡± Theodore said after a long moment of hesitation. Phillip stared at the man, looking for any, even the tiniest hint that he was joking. It wasn¡¯t strange for an old man to have a slightly odd sense of humor. However, as he peered into the empty slits in the helmet, he didn¡¯t see anything¡ªnot even the faintest glimmer of light. As if there was nothing there. With a shiver, Phillip looked away. ¡°Hey, uh¡­ Jacob?¡± Theodore called. ¡°Can I talk to you for a second?¡± He walked up to Jacob and whispered something in his ear. Jacob nodded, walking over to Jean and then waving everyone over to the two of them. Once everyone stood in a small circle, Jean raised her hand and cast Sound Barrier. ¡°Okay, what the fuck was that?¡± Theodore asked. ¡°He¡¯s obviously lying, but this is getting creepy.¡± ¡°Maybe he just has a strange sense of humor?¡± Beatrice tried, but¡­ ¡°That¡¯s strange indeed,¡± Jack commented. ¡°Too strange. What do you think, Jacob?¡± Jacob stood still, arms crossed and brow furrowed. ¡°We hadn¡¯t considered it so far, but it¡¯s possible he¡¯s with the terrorists.¡± Everyone froze at that and tried not to move their head to face the man. Phillip failed to stop himself, and as he looked over, he felt a strong chill move down his spine. He glanced away, swallowing nervously. ¡°Think about it,¡± Jacob continued, turning his head aside so the man couldn¡¯t see his lips. ¡°He hasn¡¯t told us anything about himself. On top of that, this whole situation doesn¡¯t seem to bother him at all.¡± ¡°You¡¯d have to be pretty batshit insane not to crack,¡± Theodore concluded. ¡°Honestly, with their weird cult vibes, I¡¯m sure he¡¯d fit right in.¡± ¡°Okay, okay, slow down!¡± The man with the crooked nose¡ªGabriel¡ªspoke up. ¡°We¡¯re making some big leaps in judgment here, no? What if he¡¯s been traumatized? The poor man might¡¯ve lost his damn mind.¡± That¡­ As seen by their shifting posture, most of them at least considered it a viable possibility. ¡°We¡¯re being too hasty,¡± Jack declared, siding with Gabriel. ¡°If he¡¯s with the terrorists, why on New Earth would he go out of his way to make himself look so suspicious? You¡¯d think he¡¯d at least try to fit in.¡± ¡°We do not know what those people are after,¡± Karen stated. ¡°We also have one more possibility to consider.¡± ¡°And what¡¯s that?¡± Jack asked. ¡°That the man is telling the truth.¡± ¡°Pfft¡ª¡± Theodore snorted, chuckling. ¡°Look, Karen, I have a talent that allows me to estimate how much of a threat someone poses. This man¡¯s aura is a dark shade of orange, meaning he¡¯d pose a serious threat to me, but given that almost all of you are a scary shade of red, that makes him among the weakest in the group. If he actually had the powers he said¡­ fuck red, he¡¯d be a pitch-black void! Power like that would be impressive even by the standards of five-stars. Tone the delusions down, okay?¡± A brief scowl flickered on her brow, but she schooled her expression. ¡°You have previously admitted that your talent isn¡¯t always reliable.¡± ¡°That is true, yes,¡± he said, ¡°but not like this. Sometimes, I can¡¯t see people¡¯s auras at all. Besides, come on, get real! There is absolutely no way that this man is that powerful! You¡¯d have to be high to think that.¡± Her expression grew cold as she looked him over. ¡°Those who fail to consider all possibilities are doomed to death by ignorance.¡± ¡°Oh, really?¡± He snickered. ¡°Get a load of Socrates over here.¡± ¡°Theodore, that¡¯s enough,¡± Jacob interrupted, raising a hand. ¡°Look, the dude¡¯s weird. We can all agree on that. We¡¯ll ask him more questions and get his measure. Theodore, keep an eye on him with your talent. Even if he¡¯s only orange, he¡¯s good enough to have managed to survive that slaughter. Maybe you¡¯ll get a glimpse of something else.¡± ¡°So what do we do now?¡± Phillip asked, feeling unnerved by the man¡¯s presence. ¡°I¡¯m going to be honest, just being in the room with him is uncomfortable enough.¡± A few of the others nodded in agreement. Even if he wasn¡¯t with the terrorists, the man was an additional strain on their already fraying mental health. ¡°We can not remove the man from this shelter,¡± Karen said. ¡°I agree,¡± Theodore added, surprisingly enough. ¡°His presence might be a bit jarring, but kicking a crazy old man out to fend for himself isn¡¯t gonna improve our sleep quality, that¡¯s for sure.¡± Jacob¡¯s hands balled into fists as he looked down to the ground. ¡°Whatever. We aren¡¯t doing anything, then.¡± ¡°But you¡¯re the one who¡ª¡± ¡°Take the fucking barrier down, Jean.¡± Jean nodded and deactivated her ability. Jacob turned around and walked over to the old man. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but a moment later, he closed it and turned around, walking back to his small corner. Nobody else said a thing, either, simply moving to their personal space and crawling inside. Chapter 90 - Manhattan, Nova York Madam looked herself over in the mirror, taking a closer look at the new foundation she had put on. She was located in a small room atop a tall building. Her surroundings were a plain, subdued grey, with nothing but a cupboard to her side and a mirror before her lovely image. She held a sponge in her left hand as her right pulled a finger down her right cheek, testing the fortitude of the layer she had just applied. It was still a bit loose, delicate as it was. Any four-star with a life affinity had perfect skin; that went without saying. Regardless of whether she used makeup or not, her beauty was something that no mortal could rival, no matter what they did. But natural beauty was so plain. So boring. So¡­ unexpressive, really; insulting, even. Many shamed the fakeness of makeup, small and limited as their minds were, claiming that being ¡°real¡± was the superior choice. All this attitude revealed was that they had no idea what they were talking about. Humans didn¡¯t live in objective reality. Everyone crafted a fake world all in their head, a coat of paint over the uncaring coldness of the infinite multiverse. Where these coats of paint met, layering over one another in a nasty storm of clashing perspectives, that was the world humanity lived in. Claiming that this construct was fake was failing to realize just how easily it could end one¡¯s life. Makeup was but one manifestation of the power to control reality, to wield it to one¡¯s advantage. Her pale skin had a hue that no makeup could replicate, but makeup could create many effects that natural hues couldn¡¯t. She could make her face more or less illuminated, add a flashy zest or an intimidating shade, a vibrant joy, or a mask of cruelty. For her meeting with the empress, she decided on a naive look: puffy, pink cheeks, big eyes, and youth¡ªlovely, fleeting youth that her ageless, mature appearance mercilessly refused to provide her with. Her fingers went over to a brush, and she collected some blush, carefully applying it. Her movements paused as she sensed something. Her talent¡ªLife Signature¡ªhad a limited number of people she could use it on. As such, she had ensured that she kept most of these uses for important political figures. At that moment, she felt the approach of one of these signatures. She had to ensure that she did not make a move or betray that she knew this person was coming. She felt them slip right past the security as if they weren¡¯t even there, moving past locked doors and into one of the highest-security buildings of Nova York as if they were taking a casual stroll through a park. Without even a single hint betraying their presence, the target appeared standing behind Madam, just slightly outside the view of the mirror¡¯s reflection, arms locked behind their back as they smiled at her. ¡°Hello, Narcisse,¡± a woman¡¯s voice sounded behind her. Madam bounced in her chair and looked behind her, showing a modicum of surprise, just enough to not seem unnatural. ¡°Leona!¡± Madam exclaimed, putting the brush down and getting up to shake the woman¡¯s hand. ¡°How lovely to see you here!¡± The woman who stood before her was a white woman with the same ageless aura as all those reaching the peak of power. She wore a uniform: a black, militaristic suit with a wide-brimmed peaked cap atop her short, green hair. Her appearance was like that of a general from the old world, but her function was way more hands-on. Leona was an assassin¡ªthe best assassin in the entire world; well, the parts of the world that had active contact with the American Empire, at least. Her abilities were unknown to most, with likely only Madam and the empress understanding the extent of the woman¡¯s abilities. The woman was a five-star, among the exceptionally few who didn¡¯t play a critical managerial role in the government or an influential extragovernmental organization. Her talent, in one way or another, allowed her to phase through surfaces, and her affinities were light, dark, and air. With the invisibility of light, the shadow manipulation of the dark, and the ability to eliminate sound through the air affinity, the only way to truly feel her coming was by extraordinary means. What a wonderful subordinate to have, Madam thought. If she could use this woman for herself, she¡¯d rule the world in no time. Her Matt was a genius, but he simply couldn¡¯t compete with Leona. Leona smiled at Madam, a pleasant yet distinctly formal expression. ¡°It is good to see you as well. I have come here under the orders of my mistress. She wishes to let you know that your meeting is scheduled for 30 minutes from now.¡± Madam had to use her essence to maintain a stony expression, desperately holding her eye back from twitching. Leave it to the empress to pull stuff like this. She sure loved keeping people on the back foot. ¡°I thank you for letting me know, dear,¡± Madam said, clasping the woman¡¯s hand in both arms and smiling up at her, choosing a disarming, cute smile for the job. ¡°Please let Kaiya know that I will be there five minutes early at the latest,¡± she said. ¡°That will not be possible, Madam,¡± Leona said, keeping her face neutral. ¡°I was tasked with escorting you on your way there.¡± It was rare for Madam to feel like cursing. Unable to take a deep breath, she imperceptibly expanded her lungs to intake some extra air. ¡°Oh my, that¡¯s wonderful! I thank you for your time,¡± she said amicably. ¡°Please wait a minute, dear. I was just about to finish applying my makeup.¡± An act she now had to alter. She pivoted slightly with the direction she was taking her finish. If she brazenly continued in the same direction, Leona, who was quite perceptive, would undoubtedly notice and internalize what she was trying to do, and while it was no significant infringement, Madam didn¡¯t feel like testing Kaiya¡¯s mood with frivolous deception. Her options were quite limited, but her nearly 200 years of practice were enough to improvise an acceptable alternative. She settled on strong-young, the picture of her decorated mug interpretable as either that of a youthful lady forced to mature early or an old yet young-looking mistress holding a tight grasp on the spirit of her younger days. Closer to the truth than she¡¯d like it, ¡°Your skills are quite impressive,¡± Leona said, holding a tight, polite smirk pulled over her plain lips. ¡°Most ladies I¡¯ve interacted with tend to have someone else handle their looks.¡± Madam smiled guilelessly. ¡°I couldn¡¯t!¡± she exclaimed with a girly giggle. ¡°I love doing my own makeup. In fact, I find the thought of letting someone else do it ridiculous. What¡¯s the point of self-expression if you don¡¯t do it yourself?¡± ¡°I personally dislike makeup,¡± Leona said, ¡°but if I ever decided to dip my toes, I¡¯d certainly try doing it myself.¡± Madam paused, arching her neck to glance at the woman¡¯s reflection in the mirror. ¡°Are you trying to convince me that you¡¯ve never done it? Camouflage should no doubt be a skill of yours, my dear.¡± Leona smiled a bit wider. ¡°It¡¯s not quite the same thing, Madam. You¡¯ve said it yourself.¡± Her hand didn¡¯t stop as she wrapped up her finish, and all she did in response was briefly nod in acknowledgment. The implication of that statement was quite apparent¡ªone was for deception, and the other was for self-expression. Well, if one actually made a distinction. A wise-ass as always, I see, Madam thought to herself. Once done with her preparations, she got up and followed the woman. The two of them made their way to the rooftop, where a floating, old-fashioned carriage awaited them. The view of the center of Nova York was beautiful. Tall, intricate buildings sprung up, many going even taller than the already impressively tall building they were atop. Countless structures floated around them, some slowly shifting positions as the owners traded places to change the view a bit. Either that or to grant those below a bit of sunshine. Distantly, she saw the endless ocean spreading so far into the horizon that its edges were but a hazy mist of glimmering blue, the air refracting light in a way that made it seem like the sky and the ocean split each other apart rather than met in a straight line. The shape of what used to be Long Island was no longer the same as it had once been. Not only had the rift expanded its surface area drastically, but it had also altered its shape. Many large urban centers were scattered, with buildings suddenly having far more distance between them than before the rift. That space had naturally been filled in later, of course, and most of the old buildings were either destroyed or drastically altered. Manhattan was different. Most of the old buildings had remained right where they had been, and geographically, it hadn¡¯t changed much. This was a pattern with locations that had a particularly high ether density. For some reason, they were less subject to change. That wasn¡¯t to say that Manhattan hadn¡¯t undergone some drastic changes in the last 200 years. Much of it had been destroyed in the early wars, and only some of the buildings had been recreated as an homage to the old world. And some parts had been¡­ reappropriated. A great example was Central Park. Where the park used to be open to everyone, it was now a large private property with an awe-inspiring palace built right in the middle of it. They got into the carriage waiting for them, which lifted into the air, taking them to the empress¡¯s residence. Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. They flew past the numerous floating structures and descended into the gigantic garden, landing right before the White Palace. Its name and architecture were reminiscent of the White House, the building in which the president of the United States of America used to live in. That place, along with most of Washington, D.C., had been completely obliterated in the early wars. The two of them got out of the car and walked to the opulent structure, passing its gaping entrance surrounded by great pillars and walking into its depths. A long hallway lined the surrounding area with statues of early archhuman heroes. The people who helped establish peace and stability in the early post-rift era were hailed as heroes of the highest order. Naturally, only those who had died. The dead were mythologized precisely because they were no longer there to wield the power of those myths. Granting such prestige to those still alive was an expensive ordeal, so their accomplishments were played down to ensure they stood no chance of grasping any real political power past some posturing and minor roles in local communities. The woman who so casually strode beside Madam had no doubt played a role in the deaths of at least several of the people who had been immortalized in this hall. After several minutes of walking, they finally stepped into the main chamber of the building. The whole path was wide open, without even a single door standing in their way, but it was plenty protected and insulated from the outside. As expected, the opulent, gigantic marble throne sat empty in the center of the well-decorated but dark room. Shadows concealed most of the paintings and art lining the walls. They were early for the meeting, and even with that in mind, the empress would likely be at least a few minutes late. Regardless, as soon as she stepped before the throne, Madam knelt, keeping her head down as she awaited the empress¡¯s arrival. Minutes dragged on, and she couldn¡¯t help but feel nervous. She wasn¡¯t looking forward to the meeting for many reasons, but she steeled her resolve. Eventually, distantly, just within the range of her enhanced hearing, Madam heard footsteps. It was the clank of steel boots upon the marble flooring of the hallway. She didn¡¯t gulp, but it took some effort not to succumb to the instinct. As the clattering grew closer, an aura could be felt. Despite being a five-star herself, Leona was utterly invisible to Madam¡¯s senses. But this was only because the woman was exceptional at keeping herself hidden. The empress cared not who sensed her arrival. Her presence was akin to the manifestation of authority itself. It was overbearing and domineering, so potent that its flow was as viscous as honey. It permeated the room, lining the walls and surrounding the entire chamber. The walls reacted. The opulently decorated interior lit up, with the numerous paintings and pieces of art glittering with the reflection of the lights spurred by the owner''s arrival. The whole room was glowing with light as gentle and rich as sunshine, and the bulk of the glow was focused upon the massive throne, bathing it in such glory that it gave it a divine aura. The sound of the footsteps changed from one step to another, and the room was positively flooded with aura. A tiny sheen of perspiration fought to break past Madam¡¯s essence control, but she kept her body¡¯s reaction subdued, ensuring that not a bead of sweat appeared along her skin. One loud clack after another, the sound of the boots approached, until suddenly¡ª A bulky, muscular arm wrapped around Madam¡¯s waist, lifting her up. A hard knuckle buried itself in her hair, rustling it playfully. A feminine yet deep voice chuckled from above, its thick tones as complete as a glass of well-aged whiskey. ¡°Narcisse! You¡¯re as cute as I remember you!¡± the empress declared, raising Madam by her armpits and lifting her like a puppy as she stared at her. Madam stared down at the massive figure before her with no slight hint of frustration. Empress Kaiya stood over 2 meters tall, clad in a majestic gold-red suit covered by a golden cape. Her long, plain brown hair, covered by a military-style peaked cap, spread down across her broad back. Her face was that of a half-Asian woman, chiseled and hard, with lines so sharp she could cut diamonds with her jawline. Her eyes were slitted so tight that they barely looked open, and her mouth spread wide open in a glorious grin. Muscular, tall, and domineering, her presence was like that of a female hyena, emitting an aura that made the concepts of femininity and masculinity obsolete. ¡°Lovely to see you, dear,¡± Madam concurred. ¡°Can you please put me down?¡± ¡°Sure thing!¡± Kaiya declared with a beaming smile as she plopped a big kiss on Madam¡¯s forehead and put her down like a kitten she was tired of playing with. ¡°So¡­ How about we get that meeting started, huh?¡± Madam failed to stop her eye from twitching, but she nodded and bowed slightly as she took a graceful step back to let the empress walk to her throne unimpeded. The tall woman snickered, striding forth and taking a seat. The air around her shifted subtly as she got comfortable on the throne. The boisterous persona regained its regal authority as she rested her cheek upon the knuckles of her fist. Madam stood there, maintaining her lady-like grace in the face of the predator before her. ¡°So¡­ About that message you sent me,¡± Kaiya got started, cocking an eyebrow. ¡°I believe we both know your actions come from a personal grudge,¡± the woman declared. ¡°I know you well enough to assume that, and I respect you enough to believe you won¡¯t try to hide it from me. I¡¯d like to hear details on this conflict before we continue.¡± Madam nodded, already expecting this. She proceeded to explain everything, starting with Basilisk¡¯s actions, how this tied into her investigation of the expedition, and ending with her evaluation of the severity of the threat. The Kraven clan escaped the executioner¡¯s blade by a hair¡¯s breadth; had they not lost their patriarch, the situation surrounding this would have fallen entirely on their heads. Naturally, Madam kept quiet about the exact details of how she figured the whole scenario out. The empress respected her vassals¡¯ need for privacy regarding their means and didn¡¯t pry further into the finer details. Everything she had listed off up to that point had barely expanded upon the contents of her letter. There had to be a solid reason why the empress had invited her here, and depending on her response, it would become clear soon enough. ¡°I see,¡± the empress said, nodding as Madam concluded her recounting. ¡°That is quite the story. I must say, it is an incredible coincidence that the person you were going to interview is the same one involved in the damage caused by the expedition. You haven¡¯t mentioned this in your letter, but why did you book that man?¡± ¡°He was the first to discover the entrance to Faralethal.¡± The empress quirked an eyebrow. ¡°I do not believe that¡¯s enough to land an interview with you.¡± She smirked. ¡°What¡¯s the catch?¡± Madam smiled. ¡°You¡¯re quite right. That was only the first thing that drew my attention to him. His story made my choice for me.¡± She paused as she recollected her first impression of the man. ¡°He was so perfect,¡± she said, sighing lethargically. ¡°Naive, young, hot-ugly guy with an attitude, who is just ordinary enough to be relatable, yet exceptional enough to stand out. A true underdog. A hero chosen from the masses.¡± The empress didn¡¯t appear to be impressed at all, but the answer seemed to satisfy her curiosity. ¡°And why were the Kraven after him?¡± Madam sighed. ¡°To be perfectly honest, I still do not understand why,¡± she said, scowling a bit. ¡°My best guess is that the man¡¯s proximity to the creation of the passage had resulted in the manifestation of a valuable unique, but I doubt that. He was indeed hiding something, but I never found out where, why, or how. ¡°I do know, however, that Mr. Maskaart was privy to this information and that he had leveraged it against the Kraven Clan to pressure them. I presume he knew they would act and waited to strike while the iron was hot. At any rate, the man was indisputably innocent of any crimes, and their actions were unjust on both ends.¡± The empress hummed. ¡°I see,¡± she said, tapping her chin with one finger. ¡°I have a proposal for you if you¡¯d like to hear me out,¡± she said, smirking down at Madam. Narcisse took a moment to settle herself, then nodded. This was most likely the reason why she was called here. ¡°I have a new project I¡¯m trying to get on its feet in Starhold,¡± the empress said. ¡°We have recently discovered a technology that allows us to create a simulation that perfectly replicates an archhuman¡¯s body within a false world.¡± Madam¡¯s eyes widened slightly. ¡°But,¡± the empress called, interrupting Madam¡¯s thoughts, ¡°there is a catch. I can already see what you¡¯re thinking, and while you aren¡¯t wrong, I don¡¯t see this technology becoming commercially viable¡­ ever.¡± ¡°That expensive?¡± ¡°No¡­¡± the empress said playfully, a slight smirk quirking on her lips. ¡°It¡¯s based on the talent of one person. He is a criminal who has been sentenced to death, but as an alternative, he¡¯s being kept alive as a core component of this system.¡± Madam held back a snort. Not only was that man probably not a criminal at all, but the fact that the empress was openly sharing this information with her was a sign that she had little choice in the matter of the offer that was about to come. ¡°You see, while Starhold is a generally successful project, we¡¯re recently seeing a decrease in the number of people willing to migrate there.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve heard the stories myself,¡± Madam said, nodding. Camp Violet was one of many examples of a project going awry. While few were as bloody as that, many have taken their fair share of lives and sent home a number of people with severe injuries and disfigurement. ¡°I expect nothing less of you¡­¡± The empress smiled. ¡°That being said¡±¡ªshe slowly rose to her feet and started walking forward¡ª¡±we are looking for ways to attract more permanent residents. And¡­ well¡­ an arena where nobody can suffer permanent injuries sounds like just the kind of place that would appeal to those afraid to die.¡± ¡°And I presume you want me to promote this arena?¡± Madam asked, but¡ª ¡°No, dear. I want you to become its face.¡± Madam¡¯s eyes shot wide open. ¡°Deal,¡± she said immediately. Kaiya laughed vociferously at the instant agreement. She walked up to Madam and offered her a handshake. ¡°We have a deal, then.¡± Not only would this offer be the perfect step forward for her career, but she was effectively getting a free invitation to establish herself as a significant player in Starhold. Naturally, it would be quite the burden, too, but that was the price of power. ¡°I am flattered by your magnanimous offer, Your Majesty,¡± Madam curtsied as she thanked the empress. ¡°It is only fair,¡± the empress returned, smiling down at her. ¡°You have done me a great favor by exposing the damage Mr. Maskaart¡¯s expedition was causing. It¡¯s only proper that I reward you for your work.¡± Well, that was a load of bollocks. If anything, it was the other way around. Dealing with Harold, that snake, was Madam¡¯s reward for accepting the undoubtedly brutal challenge that was to come. Still, for her, this was a win on all ends. With a gleeful joy bubbling in her chest, she prepared to wrap up her meeting with the empress. ¡°Oh, one more thing,¡± the empress called, looking down at Madam. ¡°I am about to go handle a local incident,¡± she declared. ¡°Would you like to come with me?¡± Madam considered the offer. It was a strange one. There really didn¡¯t seem to be an ulterior motive, none that Madam could think of. Perhaps she considered it a good publicity stunt? If that was the case, Kaiya was wrong. Madam¡¯s image was carefully crafted to be as far from that of a warrior as humanly possible. Her power was implied, not displayed openly for the world to see. Her conflicting emotions were clear even to the empress, who helpfully added, ¡°I have no ulterior motives behind the offer, my dear. You never know; if you¡¯re bored and have some free time, it might be fun,¡± she offered with a cheeky smile. Madam smiled politely and shook her head. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but I will have to decline. I am not a fan of dirtying my hands.¡± ¡°A pity. Well then, I should probably get going.¡± And with that, she swung her cape and walked right past Madam, squaring her shoulders and looking straight up¡­ As if she was heading to do nothing more than handle a chore. Chapter 91 - Eidolon of Authority The reasons to seal a passage were as numerous as the grains of sand in a desert. However, they all ultimately came down to the age-old rule of risk vs. profit. A wasteland with no valuables could one day release a monster, and with nobody aching to dive in, keeping it open was a mere liability. Conversely, hellscapes ordinary humans couldn¡¯t survive in remained open all across the world since the riches within were too valuable to place behind a seal. During the early days of the post-rift era, all passages were open. It wouldn¡¯t be until several decades later that society grew stable enough to organize and begin systematically sealing dangerous realms off. Many of these early seals remained in place until that very day. But humans¡­ they were funny creatures. Stupid, reckless, selfish, lazy, shortsighted¡ªthey repeatedly failed to do the right thing, and tragically, those making these errors rarely suffered from the consequences of their own hubris. Over a hundred years was a long, long time. During that time, records were lost. Who back then worried about the fact that people a hundred years down the line wouldn¡¯t know what lay behind a passage seal? It was sealed for a reason; what reason? Who knew, who cared¡ªjust keep it closed, lest you unleash a bloody calamity. And for humanity today, taking the chance to peek behind them was an age-old rule¡ªwas the risk worth the profit? Most of the time, the answer was¡­ no. Opening a sealed passage was opening Pandora¡¯s box. No matter how terrible, all of them kept an evil trapped within. As he sat in the underground chamber, remnants of old infrastructure crumbling around him, he peeked at the empty sleeve on his shirt and then back to the glowing ritual circle. His avatar was safe for the time being, but those kids were slowly becoming suspicious. Well, no matter. They wouldn¡¯t act for at least another few days, and during that time, his target would arrive. His eyes refocused, and he looked at the seal which lay beneath the ritual circle. Several specialized talents and many resources were used to construct this one. If he were more physically powerful, perhaps he could break it through sheer force, but as it was, he had to resort to slowly dissipating the ether constructs holding the barrier together. A sound akin to crystalline wind chimes rang throughout the room as a critical component finally crumbled, and a tired smile quirked up on his lips. ¡°Pandora¡¯s box indeed,¡± he muttered as he placed a palm upon the inscribed surface and pushed a pulse of essence into it. The sound of screams echoed through the structure, remnants of a will whose master had long passed taking a final, futile stand against his intrusion. The metallic barrier keeping the passage sealed was reduced to a mere layer of ordinary matter within seconds. His dark essence oozed out of his right hand and turned into a large tentacle of darkness. The appendage latched onto a small nook in the seal and pulled it up. Even though ordinary, it was made to endure. Whoever had built it was well aware of the danger posed by the thing sealed within. Yet, the creator couldn''t have possibly predicted how powerful a five-star could become. With another pulse of essence, the tentacle ripped the metal off its hinges with a loud snap, and he threw it aside, causing it to skitter across the nearby ground as he looked down through the circular passage, which looked like a round trapdoor in the ground and past which a dark chamber lay. There was little light around him, but that couldn¡¯t impede his vision. With his Dark Sight, he peered through the darkness, observing the majestic, solemn chamber within. A smile quirked on his lips as he took a step and jumped down. He landed with a light thud that echoed through the room, reaching the tall, imposing walls and lines of pillars. He lifted his head and looked at the throne on the other side of the chamber. Upon it sat a perfectly still figure. It looked like a faceless white puppet, clad in royal clothing and carrying a majestic crown on its head. As it noticed his presence, it slowly moved its head up. In an instant, the air in the room changed. An unbelievable feeling of suppression coursed through his body as the very concept of authority congealed in the air around him, imbuing him with a burning desire to kneel and obey. ¡°Not yet,¡± he said, keeping his head up as he gazed upon the eidolon of authority. ¡°I have come here to pledge my loyalty to you, Your Highness,¡± the man said, bowing slightly¡ª respectfully¡ªbut not obediently. Not yet. ¡°I believe you feel my power just as well as I feel yours. My servitude would no doubt be a valuable asset to Your Majesty.¡± The eidolon perked up at that. It had no mouth, so it gave no vocal response. It raised a hand and snapped a finger instead. With a flash of light, a spirit appeared at the eidolon¡¯s side. Its blue head was massive, and so were its striking golden eyes, and its neat robes swayed as if an intangible wind was blowing over them. It raised a small hand with thin, long fingers balled into a fist to its tiny mouth as it coughed. ¡°My lord says that you cannot be trusted,¡± it said in a polite voice. ¡°If you have a desire to serve, you must prove yourself. Pair your loyalty with an adequate proof of obedience, and you shall be accepted as a servant.¡± ¡°Duly noted, respectable sir,¡± the man responded without even a hint of sarcasm. ¡°Indeed, I come here not as an enemy. I am more than willing to prove this. But, I have a condition.¡± Both the spirit and the imposing eidolon tensed at that proclamation. ¡°As you can see, I have no shortage of power. Dare I say, if we were on opposing sides, it would not be easy to guess who would prevail. Wouldn¡¯t you agree?¡± ¡°You dare!¡± the small servant spat. ¡°Direct your petty threats at your lessers, fiend! Begone at once.¡± I overdid it, he thought, sighing as he lifted his right hand. A small mass of shadow coalesced around his middle finger, and with a burst of his will, it tore his finger off. He showed not even the slightest reaction to the pain. ¡°My apologies,¡± he said, bowing deeply. ¡°I hope a finger is enough to excuse my misbehavior.¡± The two ether constructs remained silent for a long moment, and then, the king nodded a single time. ¡°Hmph,¡± the servant scoffed. ¡°You are lucky that my lord is feeling generous today. Very well. We shall hear you out. What is it that you wish for in return for your servitude?¡± He smiled, raising his head as he used shadows to plug the wound on his finger. ¡°I would like your help with a coup d''etat.¡± *** In one of the open realms in Nova York, a group of terrorists had walled themselves off. The realm in question was one of many that had been affected by a large, coordinated attack. It was a C-rank realm located in the Taranccia realm, a small world of purple fields and tall, dinosaur-esque monsters. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. A thick, undulating barrier of opaque liquid blocked the passage, acting as a near-impenetrable barrier against every force that tried their hand at piercing it. As for who had placed the barrier, nobody knew. The only thing that was clear was that it was incredibly difficult to break. It was to no small surprise to the people within, then, when the sound of an explosion echoed through the realm, and a veritable horde of people rushed in. Within less than half an hour, the group of terrorists were apprehended, and the horde of monsters they had gathered was slowly being dispersed. As was predicted by many, as soon as these people were captured, a ritual circle lit up on their forehead and they died, committing suicide the moment their plan had failed. There were no indications of who exactly was behind the group. There were no signs pointing to anyone specific. Kaiya stood near the passage, just a bit inside the realm, acting as little more than a watch dog ensuring nobody escaped. Her imposing figure stood firm as her eyes scanned the inside of the realm. The immediate area surrounding the passage was a gruesome sight. Numerous corpses¡ªtorn, burned, doused in acid, hit by necrotic spells, and sliced apart¡ªwere scattered all around, heads, arms, and legs floating in pools of blood. The empress sighed, shaking her head slightly as she spat on the ground. ¡°What a mess.¡± This was hardly the first time she was seeing such a sight. While it was rare for her to step up like this, she needed to remind everyone of her existence every once in a while. Yet, as she stood there at the entrance, her intuition told her something was off. Her arrival in the capital was by pure chance, and it was no surprise that her help wasn¡¯t accounted for. Despite that, this entire thing was¡­ off. It was too organized for such a risky, foolish endeavor. There were few five-stars in the empire, and most of them were in Starhold. Had any of them decided to come to Nova York while this was happening, they could have stopped it. It wasn¡¯t a guarantee, granted, but there was a solid 30% chance of it happening. That was too much risk for an undertaking with such a pointless cause. No, there was more to this. What swam before her was a red herring¡ªthe shark was hiding deeper in the water. Leona suddenly appeared by her side, dropping her veil of invisibility. ¡°I have found no signs of anyone more powerful than a three-star being here.¡± ¡°Anything else?¡± ¡°No. From what I¡¯ve gathered, their intent was to cause an artificial break. Secondary motives are unclear.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll move on to the next passage immediately,¡± Kaiya declared. ¡°Something is off about this attack. I want to clear every barrier by the end of the day. We¡¯re aiming for the big ones first.¡± *** Sophia stirred slowly. A massive headache pounded in her head. An intense hunger raged in her gut. As she opened her eyes and got up, she came face to face with a decrepit undead creature. She screamed. Well, tried to, but her parched throat produced a long, scratchy voice crack instead. ¡°Relax,¡± the living mummy eked out, keeping a hand above its mouth. Every second, a small drop of water condensed on the creature¡¯s hand, wetting its lips. ¡°Wait¡­ Freddy?¡± she asked, frowning at him. ¡°What the hell happened to you!?¡± He looked absolutely horrible. The skin all over his body had shriveled up, making him look like¡­ well¡­ a mummy. ¡°Essence poisoning,¡± he eked out barely. ¡°Oh¡­¡± she said, relaxing for a moment and then breaking into a panic again. ¡°Are you okay?¡± ¡°No,¡± he said simply. ¡°But I will be once I rehydrate.¡± Given the absurdly slow trickle of water coming from his finger and the fact that he was using water essence to condense that water, thus making his poisoning even worse, she doubted his recovery would be smooth. ¡°Stop with the condensing, you dunce, you¡¯re gonna make it worse. I¡¯ll go fetch some water.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not an idi¡ªahem,¡± he coughed to clear his tight throat. ¡°I¡¯ve calmed the poisoning already. I¡¯d still appreciate some water, though. Just be careful. Monsters.¡± Sophia nodded curtly as she left the small hole they were hiding in. Five minutes later, she came running back inside while a large nebber head peeked in after her. From the safety of the hidden hole, she swung her sword and stabbed it in the eye. The monster screeched a long, pained note, and dropped dead. ¡°These things are so damn annoying!¡± she said, breathing out as she collapsed on the ground. ¡°Oh I¡¯m so hungry I could eat this thing whole.¡± Freddy snickered. ¡°Did you bring my water?¡± ¡°Yeah, here you go, shrivelhead,¡± she said as she passed him a canteen of water. ¡°Drink every drop of that since I¡¯m not going back outside to get more.¡± Freddy downed the water in the small container, then moved over to the dead nebber¡¯s bleeding neck. He placed his palm on the wound, and with a small burst of blood essence, he started absorbing the blood through his palm. Meanwhile, he swung his dagger at the spark of undeath. ¡°Uh¡­ that¡¯s not¡ª¡± ¡°I know this isn¡¯t a good idea, Sophia,¡± he said with a shake of his head and a snarky chuckle. ¡°But I¡¯ll live.¡± Naturally, absorbing the blood of an unknown monster was¡­ well¡­ the same as injecting the blood of an unknown monster. Not good for anyone who enjoyed being alive. Thankfully, the unholy combination of undeath and 1% Lifesteal could keep him from suffering too much damage while his body fought tooth and nail against the influx of foreign blood. Over the next 10 minutes, his skin tone and overall state rapidly improved. Sophia partook of some meat; after processing it first, naturally. It was an upgrade compared to the god-awful gorel flesh, but it was still far from luxury cuisine. The two of them recovered in silence for a while. Freddy was the first to speak up. ¡°We¡¯re alive,¡± he said. ¡°That we are,¡± she confirmed. ¡°That¡¯s good, yeah.¡± ¡°Yes, sir.¡± ¡°Yeah, no, I¡¯m just¡­ yeah.¡± He coughed. ¡°I¡¯m happy we¡¯re safe.¡± ¡°You have something to say?¡± she asked. ¡°I¡¯m just¡­¡± He scratched his head. ¡°Sorry for the legs.¡± ¡°The what?¡± she asked. ¡°Oh! Yeah, don¡¯t worry,¡± she said. ¡°That sucked, yes, but it¡¯s not like you did it on purpose.¡± ¡°Yeah¡­¡± His voice trailed off as he twirled his fingers. ¡°So¡­ How are you feeling?¡± ¡°I¡¯m good. You?¡± ¡°I¡¯m great¡­ Great, yeah¡­ My blood feels like I¡¯ve injected a million fire ants into it, but the feeling is¡­ well¡­ let¡¯s say I¡¯ve entered only six-figure territory. Of fire ants, I mean.¡± She chuckled. ¡°I¡¯ll prepare a spark or two to help you out. I could also use a few to deal with this headache.¡± ¡°Yeah¡­ but we¡¯re alive¡­ and we¡¯re safe.¡± Sophia stared at him for a long moment. He met her eyes for a brief moment and then looked away. It was painfully obvious that he was dancing around a certain topic. She couldn¡¯t help but sigh. ¡°Thank you,¡± she said. ¡°For what?¡± he asked. ¡°Isn¡¯t it obvious?¡± she suggested with a smirk. ¡°Well, it would be, but this was one of those dramatic thank yous that you just know has a bit of something behind it, you know?¡± She rolled her eyes and shook her head. She looked away, unwilling to show her face to him. Her mind rushed with thoughts. She thought of the cult. No, not the cult. Her old family. Her old friends. Her old life. They were out there, hurting people, doing terrible things in the name of their cause. How easy it would have been to end up among them. More than death, more than danger, more than pain, she had been afraid of having to confront them. The thought of finding someone she recognized was like a dagger in her heart. It hurt. Even at that moment, she couldn¡¯t brush off the connection she had with them. But as morbid as it might have sounded to someone else, she was glad that they were out here doing this. Being so cruel. Being so obviously evil from an outside perspective. It made it easier to justify her choices. Even if it didn¡¯t make her feel any less lost. Freddy coughed again. ¡°So¡­ I was waiting for you to wake up so we could decide on what to do next.¡± Indeed. While they were tentatively safe, there was still a threat of being discovered. ¡°Yeah,¡± she said. ¡°We should move out further.¡± And so they did. Carefully, ensuring they didn¡¯t attract one of the demonic capragorns, they went from one grove to another. Just not being in the same grove as the passage was already a world of difference, and they decided this was safe enough. This time, they climbed up into one of the trees. There were no airborne predators in this realm, and nothing dangerous should climb the trees, so it was a better option than waiting underground. There, they waited for what felt like days. The realm was perpetually sunny, however, and it was hard to tell exactly how much time was passing. The pocket watches they had brought with them had been left behind with all the other unnecessary equipment they brought in rucksacks. For a long while, they were simply waiting, entirely alone. Then, Freddy heard voices in the distance. ¡°Shhh,¡± he shushed Sophia as he strained to hear better. ¡°Someone is coming.¡± Sophia grew pale. The voices were quiet and distant, and soon enough, the sound vanished. Just as the two of them started to relax, a loud voice shouted from below. ¡°Two on my position!¡± Chapter 92 - Shackles Illya chewed on her nails, eyes bloodshot as she stared at the bane of her existence. She hadn¡¯t slept in days. The artifact¡ªthe massive, mummified arm of crimson skin and wicked nails¡ªdefied every attempt to even as much as mute its aura of bloodthirst. Several of their members stood anxiously around the intimidating object, similarly displaying signs of stress and severe exhaustion. The situation wasn¡¯t helped by the mountain of rancid, rotting flesh, which smelled so bad it would make a mortal faint. The situation was starting to fray everyone¡¯s nerves, and she felt the influence gnaw at her, demanding that she claw someone¡¯s throat out with her bare fingers. They tried, repeatedly, from runic inscriptions to shackles to wards, but nothing worked. Ether constructs simply couldn¡¯t maintain their form in the presence of the limb. Naturally, an artifact as powerful as this had to be worth a lot of money. But its no doubt significant monetary value was hardly of consequence when its mere presence was enough to thoroughly derail their plans. The lack of living bait shouldn¡¯t have been a significant problem. The smell of blood alone was already enough to maintain a trickle of starving monsters through the passages. The problem was that they instantly lost their minds, rushing towards the limb standing before her like moths flying into a flame. And when they came here, they slaughtered each other. It was hardly possible to cause a break with a pile of monster corpses. At this rate, their plan would be a failure. But that didn¡¯t have to be the case. This object was dangerous enough on its own. If they just figured out how to best utilize it, the damage it could cause might very well surpass anything their previous plan was capable of doing. The only problem was that it might be too effective. Their plan didn¡¯t involve razing the barbaric city to the ground. This was just the first step to sending their message. It was supposed to plant a seed of dissatisfaction and create a ripe opportunity for a rebellion. Sowing seeds of despair would only serve to reinforce the status quo as the people swarmed around the familiar scent of the blood-soaked striped flag. Taking a frustrated breath, she made an executive decision. ¡°Fall back, everyone,¡± she said, sighing tiredly. ¡°We have exhausted our options for the time being. We will take a day off to recuperate and then continue our¡ª¡± An ear-piercing shattering sound echoed through the entire realm, and the cloaked men and women turned to face the source as one. Standing upon the mount of flesh, they had an elevated vantage point and could clearly and easily identify the origin of the deafening noise. It came from the passage¡ªthe entrance to the realm. A massive, bone-white arm of chiseled muscle protruded through the now-broken barrier. It was so thick that it barely even fit the wide opening, stretching at least 15 meters in length. Its horrifying size made the gigantic limb before them look like a toddler''s arm. ¡°Oh¡­ boy,¡± Damian croaked, lifting his arm to scratch the back of his head. ¡°That¡¯s not good.¡± Illya shot the burly man a lethal stare. ¡°Sorry, boss,¡± the man said, stepping back. The gigantic arm suddenly shrunk, deflating like a balloon as it receded back through the passage. Illya recognized the look of that limb. Everyone present did. That was the Avatar of Dominion. One of the most famous talents in this part of the world. Its call to fame? The owner¡ªthe empress of the American Empire. ¡°We took the gamble knowing this might happen,¡± Illya stated resolutely. ¡°Do not falter. Master will call for us soon. Do your best, everyone. Resist until your last breath. ¡°Do not die in vain.¡± *** Freddy summoned his Gore Knuckles before he even saw who was shouting. Both him and Sophia kept their forms concealed behind thick branches, keeping most of their body out of the view of whoever might decide to throw a projectile their way. ¡°Please identify yourselves!¡± the voice shouted. It was a man¡¯s voice, and it sounded distinctly¡­ militaristic? Freddy raised an eyebrow. Despite his better judgment, he peeked behind a branch and took a look at the people surrounding them. Numerous compound bows were aimed at them, and their users were all clad in military-style camo. Rather than despair at the sight, Freddy felt elated. ¡°Don¡¯t shoot!¡± he shouted. ¡°We¡¯re civilians!¡± He promptly retracted his Gore Knuckles and gestured to Sophia, telling her to put her sword down. ¡°Stay put!¡± the man yelled authoritatively. ¡°Prepare your identification cards and throw them down!¡± ¡°All right!¡± After retracting his Freddy took his out of his storage ring and Sophia did the same thing. They threw them to the ground, and one of the people surrounding them rushed to pick them up. ¡°We are going to prepare a safety cushion for you,¡± the man said. ¡°Please jump off the tree with your arms placed behind your head. Do not resist. If you show any signs of hostility, we are authorized to use lethal force.¡± ¡°Okay!¡± Freddy confirmed. The uniformed men threw a ball beneath the tree, and within a second, it inflated into a large cushion. Sophia went first, hands placed on the back of her head. As soon as she got off the cushion, one of the nearby men used a metal manipulation ability to shackle her. A chain extended from the man¡¯s hands, attached to a pair of arm cuffs which glowed with a runic seal. ¡°Hey!¡± she shouted in protest, causing several of the nearby soldiers to raise their bows and aim them at her. ¡°Do not resist!¡± the man shouted again. ¡°You have nothing to fear if you are innocent. This is just a precaution.¡± Freddy soon followed after her, and just like Sophia, he, too, was shackled once he got off the cushion. Rather than tense up, he was visibly relieved. ¡°Never thought getting arrested could feel this good.¡± ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± the man said, nodding at the others present. The person manipulating their shackles gave them a polite tug. ¡°Please do not resist.¡± Freddy nodded. Thus, they were dragged along. Most of the people present dispersed, likely as they continued their search for any of the cultists that might be present in this realm. He presumed that they¡¯d be allowed to go when they were cleared of suspicion. Suddenly, his steps halted. The man tugged on the chain again, prompting Freddy to continue walking. Although he¡¯d felt greatly relieved at the appearance of the soldiers¡­ weren¡¯t they kind of in deep shit? Sophia was also being dragged, but she was quite far from him, as they weren¡¯t allowed to stay close to one another. He couldn¡¯t talk to her. They couldn¡¯t discuss anything. Even if they were near enough to speak to one another, they were being watched. Doing his best to subdue his panic, Freddy pondered their situation. Would they be interrogated? If that was the case, he should probably run right fucking now! Sophia had literally grown up in the cult responsible for this. This wasn¡¯t something they even needed to interrogate out of her¡ªthis was on her papers! The woman had gone to the police after escaping the damn cult! This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. Usually, that would be proof that she had cut ties with them. But in this scenario, the fact that she just happened to be there during this terrorist attack was just a bit too much of a coincidence. And what about him? If they took a look at his records and saw the two years where he was just completely missing, only to return back to society looking quite different and having quite a bit more power, he¡¯d look even more suspicious than Sophia! Oh shit¡­ Freddy thought, gulping. I¡¯m going to prison, aren¡¯t I? Well, only if he didn¡¯t get executed. Sweat dripped down his back, and he looked over at Sophia. She looked stricken. Great! Now we¡¯re even starting to look guilty! The biggest problem they had was that they were both completely unaffiliated with any party. They had no faction standing behind them, meaning that nobody would step up to force the prosecution to do their due diligence. With how the justice system worked in the empire, backing and status was more critical than innocence. Two shmucks nobody would miss were always in danger when pitted against the law. His heart hammered in his chest. Should they run? If so, this was a good time to make that decision. They were surrounded by only a few soldiers, while most of the others had spread out to search a wider area. He pulled on the shackles a bit, testing their strength. He winced. They felt super tough, and without at least a two-star Hydraulic Flex or even a Flowing Strike that would break his own arms, he didn¡¯t see a way to free himself. The runic inscriptions did nothing to inhibit his essence flow, so they were likely there to reinforce the metal. Testing it just a bit, he pulled on his essence and tried to use a Hydraulic Flex to¡ª Immediately, a blaring alarm screeched from his cuffs, and five soldiers turned around, aiming their bows at his head. ¡°Wait, wait, wait! Sorry! I am so sorry!¡± he shouted. ¡°I-I-I¡­ I tried using Hydraulic Flex to walk a bit more easily! I uh¡­ I¡¯m pretty damn tired. Hadn¡¯t eaten in days and all that¡­¡± His pathetic excuse didn¡¯t look like it convinced anybody. The man who was keeping him on a leash pulled out another set of shackles and clasped them around his wrists, then he summoned a giant chain that he used to tie Freddy around the arms. Freddy¡¯s expression looked extremely sour. Well then¡­ What the fuck am I gonna do now? *** Jacob sat with a dour expression, keeping to his small compartment and refusing to talk to anyone. Time passed by, with no signs that anyone was coming after them. Until things suddenly changed. The sounds of voices could be heard just past the barrier that kept them isolated, and soon enough, it turned to shouting. Almost everyone in the room took a stance, preparing themselves for a fight, but Jack raised his arms. ¡°Wait!¡± he shouted. ¡°I can hear the voices clearly! These aren¡¯t the terrorists! They sound like soldiers!¡± A wave of relief instantly washed over everyone in the room. A few moments later, a blade carved the wall keeping them contained. For a long moment, Jacob feared that the trap would go off and hurt someone, but to his relief, the soldiers seemed to have disarmed it before opening the barricade. ¡°Everyone get on the ground!¡± a voice shouted from the other side. ¡°Hands on the back of your head!¡± The smarter among them immediately complied, and the dumber among them followed their example. Even the armored old man obeyed. Shackles floated over, cuffing everyone, and chains dragged them out one by one. Nobody there enjoyed having bows pointed at their faces, especially after everything they¡¯d been through, but seeing the uniformed men was a relief, nonetheless. They were taken out one by one and brought out of the dungeon and into the lobby building. There, a man looked them over, confirming their identities. Jacob, Karen, and Phillip were released from their constraints as soon as their identities were verified, but everyone else was kept in shackles. And finally, the last one to be dragged out was the old man. ¡°Please hand your identification over!¡± the soldier commanded. ¡°I apologize,¡± the armored man said. ¡°I do not have my papers with me.¡± The soldier snapped a finger, and several additional layers of shackles were placed on the old man. ¡°As a precaution, you will be additionally restrained until your identity can be verified. Please do not resist.¡± ¡°That is no issue,¡± the old man said in his usual, disarming tone. ¡°Thank you for your service.¡± Jacob, Phillip, and Karen were escorted out first while the others were dragged individually. A short hour later, they were regrouped just outside the passage that returned to the gorel realm. Following one after another, they went through. As soon as they stepped past the passage, gasps could be heard from most of them. The blood-red sky above clearly triggered some unwelcome memories from Jack and Jean. Everyone knew what this sky meant. It was the Crimson Twilight¡ªand it was way too early for it to appear. Still, if this realm was known for anything, it was the inconsistent intervals at which stuff happened. That, on its own, wasn¡¯t too strange, even if the timing was bizarre. What had them truly shocked was the abhorrent stench¡ªas well as the image of the mound of flesh in the distance. Whatever had happened here, it was¡­ horrifying. Jacob gazed upon the destruction with a dead look. The ecosystem had been irreparably damaged, and it would take a long time for this realm to become usable again. However, the implications of the cascading damage this could cause were put out of his mind. They had more than enough capital to make it past this. The actual disaster for him had nothing to do with money. After a nauseating trek through the forest, through which rivers of rotten blood ran, they reached a clearing close to the main passage. What he saw there was¡­ quite a surprise. His name was¡­ Liam? It was the guy who bagged Theo¡¯s wife. He was shirtless and heavily restrained, likely because he, much like the old man, didn¡¯t have his ID with him when the soldiers found him. The sight of that, as well as the sight of Theodore and Beatrice looking at the man with shocked and ashamed expressions, brought just a tiny shred of joy into Jacob¡¯s life. He also recognized the woman standing next to the man¡ªit was the chick he brought with him to the club that one time. Goddamn, what a piece of ass! Maybe he could try¡­ avenging his good friend, Theodore? Tit for tat, as they said. It sounded like a fun distraction from the bullshit he¡¯d been through. The thoughts about Liam were quickly wiped from Jacob¡¯s mind as he spotted another person. A woman was walking down a path, flanked by two guards. His jaw dropped. The woman was nearly as tall as he was, clad in royal clothing and eyeing their group like a hawk. He had seen her plenty of times¡ªher face was plastered on quite a few things and broadcasted almost daily. It was the empress. What the hell was the empress doing there!? As soon as they stepped into the clearing, Jacob, Karen, and Phillip knelt before the intimidating woman. Liam, the nervous man, looked at them with confusion as if wondering why they were kneeling. Then, he turned to face the incoming woman. ¡°Holy shit!¡± he shouted, nearly prompting Jacob to break into laughter. The man rushed to get on his knees, and the woman beside him soon followed suit. *** Freddy cursed himself up and down as sweat erupted from every pore on his body. Why is the empress here!? Why did I shout like that!? Aaaaah! he screamed internally. Just when he thought his day couldn¡¯t possibly get any worse, something like this happened. That was just great. Needless to say, the odds of successfully escaping with his life intact were shrinking by the moment. As if the thick metallic shackles weren¡¯t enough, one of the¡ªif not the most powerful person in the empire was standing guard. To his absolute horror, the woman suddenly turned and looked at him. The weight of her gaze felt like trying to balance an anvil on his head. A single twitch of a wrong muscle, and he felt like he was in for a lot of pain. The woman suddenly began gesturing with her fingers. A secret code? Suddenly, the man holding Freddy¡¯s leash tugged on it and pulled him back, drawing him into the forest. What the¡ª The men holding the other hostages seemed to do the same thing. However, one person was left alone in the clearing. A fully armored man, with more shackles on his body than even Freddy, stood alone in the center of the clearing as everyone distanced themselves from him. ¡°Oh, dear,¡± the man uttered. Suddenly, with a flash of white light, a figure appeared. Freddy¡¯s jaw dropped. A white titan with runic formations inscribed upon its skin¡ªa physical manifestation of the empress¡¯s authority, flashed into existence behind her. It was a giant standing even taller than Bloodshed had been when he summoned it a few days ago. Then, it pulled its fist back and brought it down on the armored man. A shockwave blasted in all directions, pushing the trees and blowing the retreating people away. Every leaf on every nearby tree was torn off, leaving the canopy barren. The ground beneath their feet sank slightly before bouncing back up, tripping everyone over while the gale blew them away. Freddy was pushed back, falling to the ground as his ears pulsed with the blast. For several seconds, he heard nothing but a high-pitched buzz. He didn¡¯t see what was happening. A storm of leaves and dust covered his vision, and a stray shard of stone embedded into his nose. He coughed, spitting brown spit and freeing his lungs of the dust he inhaled. Another shockwave made the realm tremble, and the sounds of explosions got louder. With the numerous restraints, getting up was difficult, but he didn¡¯t have to do it alone. The soldier pulled him to his feet and shouted something, most likely a command to follow along. Whatever the hell was happening, Freddy couldn¡¯t be happier to get as far away from it as possible. The cloud of dust slowly cleared, and he looked around to see where Sophia was. He quickly spotted her. She was standing just a few meters away from him. But finding her gave him no relief. ¡°Sophia¡­?¡± he called. She stood frozen, eyes wide open as her mouth flapped. ¡°This isn¡¯t the time to¡ª¡± he tried, but his words were interrupted as a ritual circle appeared on Sophia¡¯s forehead. ¡°F¡­ Freddy¡­ What¡¯s happening?¡± she asked, panic evident in her expression. Then, her eyes moved into the back of her skull as a pulse of power echoed through her body. Chapter 93 - Red Barrier [BOOK 2 FINISHED ON PATREON!] Illya stood in a small clearing. Standing right beside one another, every remaining member was seemingly out in plain view¡ªmore than 50 cloaked people stood in the middle of an exposed clearing. Yet, as another group of soldiers combed through the nearby woods, they walked right past them, completely failing to notice their presence. What kept them hidden was a large illusion array, one of the most expensive ones money could buy. Even then, while it was a miraculous piece of etherology, it was child¡¯s play to anyone at the third star or above. Hell, if anyone paid close enough attention, it was apparent enough that the ¡°empty stretch of grass¡± appeared slightly distorted from the outside. Needless to say, this hiding tactic wouldn¡¯t keep them hidden for long. A deep frown hung on her face the whole time. Could it be that Master hadn¡¯t even noticed that something was off? If so, were they not simply waiting to be discovered and killed? She knew that their situation was desperate; she had known it from the moment the Avatar of Dominion smashed through the barrier, but waiting for something to go wrong wasn¡¯t how their groups ever operated. There was always a plan B, an alternative move they could make. And, indeed, they had made plans in case the empress arrived. But all Master had said about that possibility was that ¡°he would take care of it¡± if such a situation were to occur. Not that she was doubting him, of course. And she would never openly say such a thing, gods forbid, but¡­ so much had already gone wrong. She couldn¡¯t stop the paranoia from creeping in. Suddenly, a massive sound echoed through the whole realm. A shockwave blew through the leaves, lifting the dust and breaking the illusion barrier keeping them hidden. She cursed. They would have to fight. Just as she was about to make the command, she noticed something strange through the cloud of dust. Her people were¡­ writhing? Why? Suddenly, she noticed something else. She felt burning. Intense burning. A fire spread through her body. A strange force was gathering on her forehead, and she raised a gentle finger to touch it. As she did, the abject agony she felt was washed away by relief, and she smiled gently. ¡°So you did have a plan for us, after all.¡± *** Dust hovered in the air. In a small clearing, not too far from the entrance to the gorel realm, the empress of the American Empire stood with her arms crossed as her avatar pulled its massive fist back. Her hawk-like eyes scanned the environment, and it wasn¡¯t long until she spotted the shackled man, standing barely a few feet to the side of the impact. He strained his muscles and, with barely any effort, tore the constraints that kept him shackled as if they were made of paper. ¡°Slippery bastard,¡± she cursed as she gave a mental command to her avatar. The Avatar of Dominion swung one fist down, then another, hunting for the tiny target, only to barely lose it every time. She clicked her tongue as she pulled the massive limbs back. Her muscles suddenly bulged, and with a titanic force, she clapped her hands together. The shockwave instantly cleared the dust, revealing the figure in plain armor. Just from the looks, it was impossible to tell who this was. He had used no abilities, either. But even then, she didn¡¯t recognize the aura. Five-stars were few and far between. This was either someone who had remained hidden within the empire or someone from a foreign country. At any rate, he was an enemy. ¡°Who are you?¡± she asked authoritatively. ¡°Who? Me?¡± the man said disarmingly, gesturing at himself as if he were no more than a harmless old man. ¡°I¡¯m just a passerby, Your Highness.¡± A sudden pulse of essence spread from beneath the empress¡¯s leg, rushing right under the man. In the next moment, spikes of stone burst from the earth, but the armored man leaped up, contorting his body to avoid every sharp edge. But that left him afloat, where another giant fist was flying right at him. Rather than float helplessly as death rushed at him, a small black tentacle extended from his hand, wrapped around a nearby spike, and pulled him out of the way. This time, however, rather than cleanly dodge the incoming blow, the man found himself standing in the way of the charging empress, who was running at such immense speed that the ground cracked beneath her every step. ¡°Tectonic Strike,¡± she whispered as her arm adopted the momentum of a falling mountain. A dark mass materialized beneath the man¡¯s body, taking the form of a rapidly inflating pillow of black that sent him flying up in the air and out of the way of the strike while the empress smashed her foot down, sending chunks of stone flying into the air, and then punched one of those chunks. The immense force pulverized most of the rock into dust, but small pieces flew up at the floating man at such an immense speed that they simply couldn¡¯t be dodged. Each packed with more force than a Stone Bullet, they shredded the man¡¯s armor and embedded themselves into the skin beneath, and a moment later, the Avatar of Dominion¡¯s fist caught the man mid-air, sending his form crashing into the ground and sending another cloud of dust flying. Before it pulled its fist back, the avatar jumped, smashing its feet down on where the man had landed. The subsequent blast made the whole realm shiver with the force, but the empress stood as if glued to the ground beneath her feet. ¡°That is quite the rude greeting, I say,¡± a voice echoed from her left, over 40 meters away from the blast. The man¡¯s armor was mangled quite heavily and filled with holes, with visible streaks of blood serving as evidence of her attacks¡¯ effectiveness. Yet he was bleeding no longer, and despite the decrepit state of the cheap metal armor, there were no signs of visible damage on the body beneath. The empress scowled at the sight. Her mind rushed with thoughts. She had faced no small number of bastards like this. He stood confidently¡ªpart bravado, part hidden plan, she was sure. Without knowing what he was planning to do, she had no idea how to prepare. But from experience, she knew that not letting the opponent stall was always a good idea. With a flick of her wrist, a simple-looking blade appeared in her hand. It was unadorned, with an incredibly simple ergonomic grip, a plain guard, and a straight, pure blade. She flexed her metal affinity, exerting her will upon the blade with Sharpen, tightening its edge so thin it could cut a grain of sand in two. Wind gathered around her back, compressing into a propelling force, while the air before her chest grew thinner, creating both push and drag to move her forward, and her muscles briefly flared, flashing an outline of her body as a streak of lightning seeped into her form. With an explosive leap, she flashed forward, moving at nearly half the speed of sound. Her blade rushed at the bastard before her, cleaving him in two well before he could muster a defense. If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. Before his two pieces could even fly apart, her sight blinked out, replaced with pure darkness. A curse! she screamed internally. She had run right into it without noticing it. Several barriers of earth appeared before her as she leaped back, creating distance between herself and her opponent. Then, she made a gesture with her free arm. *** Leona spotted the empress¡¯s sign and immediately rushed in, completely invisible, without a hint of sound coming from her footsteps. Yet, she rushed with the precision and determination of someone who might be at every disadvantage. No fight between five-stars was won by taking things for granted. Within a second, she was out of her hiding spot and swinging a dagger to decapitate the target, all five of her stars active as she employed Negative Pressure for maximum effect, but as soon as she stepped within range, the man¡¯s torso also lit up with five stars. She didn¡¯t hesitate, carrying through with her attack. There was no way the man knew she was there. A moment later, her suspicion was confirmed, sort of. The man¡¯s body was suddenly surrounded by black tentacles, which spread out in every direction, wrapping around everything in the area, including herself. It was a nonsense attack. Technically, it had landed, and it did interrupt her assault, but she would be free within¡ª Suddenly, a sinister energy radiated from the man¡¯s form. A ritual circle shone through the armor, inscribed upon the man¡¯s forehead, and an instant later, just as she was about to release herself, a blood-red barrier in the shape of a dome surrounded her and her target, trapping them together. Leona had no reason to panic. If anything, this led her to believe that the man was using everything he had as a last resort. She wasn¡¯t trapped in here with him. He was trapped in here with her. With a flex of muscles, she loosened the grip of the tentacles and slashed them apart with her weapon. She went invisible again and, a moment later, appeared behind the figure. With dozens of rapid slashes, she cut off both the man¡¯s arms, his head, and chopped his torso and legs into pieces. Then, she kicked the parts as far apart from one another as possible, given that the man¡¯s talent likely had something to do with healing. Her suspicion was on point, as the torso started putting itself together, but she pulled out dozens of special needles and pinned the chunks to the ground, hindering the regeneration, crippling the essence flow, and keeping it restrained. It was only then that she noticed something odd. If the body and head were separated, the soul always remained attached to the head¡ªnot the body. Even if the man was immortal¡­ why was the torso healing by itself¡ªwhile the head was completely unaffected? ¡°Your Highness!¡± she exclaimed. ¡°There is something off!¡± The empress blinked. The haze of the Curse of Blindness finally vanished from her eyes, and she looked forward, noticing the red barrier. She scowled as soon as she saw it. The Avatar of Dominion moved, burying its fingers around the barrier as it pulled up. The barrier didn¡¯t budge. Her avatar punched the barrier, but the impact didn¡¯t even make it flare, let alone crack. Leona tried using her talent¡ªPhase Shift¡ªbut as she already knew, it was useless against energy barriers. It wouldn¡¯t let her through¡ªnot without vaporizing her body first. Both the empress and Leona knew that something was horribly wrong. This was no ordinary barrier. It appeared to be the same type of barrier as the one that blocked the passages, but it was different not only in color, but this one was clearly far superior. Leona peeled the mangled helmet pieces off of the disembodied head. What she found beneath was bizarre. A grinning man with a burned-out ritual circle inscribed upon his forehead, the light gone from his eyes. The face belonged to nobody she recognized. She thought she could feel scattered hints of soul aura flickering through the decapitated head. Whoever this was, they had used a spirit ability. Not just any ability, either¡ªthey had sacrificed their own life to create the barrier that was keeping her trapped. Suddenly, something in the air changed. It was hard to tell at first. The strange aura of bloodthirst still coated the entire realm, and the empress¡¯s presence was so overwhelming that it made it hard for other auras to peer through. But this was different. It was loud. Overbearing Authoritative. The two women turned to the nearby forest. The sounds of fighting echoed from within. And there, from the darkness, a figure emerged. Leona¡¯s eyes widened slightly once she saw the man¡¯s face. ¡°No¡­¡± she whispered, feeling a pang of anxiety for the first time in a long, long while. It was a gaunt, skinny man with a tall hairline. He was missing an arm and a finger on the arm he still had. He raised his open palm. A second later, the squirming torso on the floor beside her stopped regenerating and an organ floated out from it. It was a heart that looked to have been cast in metal. A metal that strongly resembled silver. The next moment, the heart flew through the barrier as if it wasn¡¯t even there, reaching the man on the other end within less than a second. It sank into his torso. Instantly, his decrepit form started to change. His deflated muscles bulged, his hairline moved down slightly, the overall sickly shade of his body disappeared, replaced by a healthy hue, and even his missing finger regrew¡ªbut his arm didn¡¯t. The man took a deep breath and smiled at them. Gone was the timid form of a skinny man. In his place stood a muscular beast, his eyes predatory and his smile wicked. A second later, the aura they had been sensing appeared behind him. A massive, nearly three-meter-tall eidolon strode with a royal step, moving with the pride and authority of a king. Leona gritted her teeth as she realized what was happening. The empress¡¯s posture shifted as she balled her fists. ¡°You goddamned psychopath¡­!¡± she spat through gritted teeth as her face morphed into the picture of fury. ¡°How the hell are you still alive!?¡± *** Jacob stood frozen, eyes wide open and sweat dripping down his body. A soldier to his side dished out commends. ¡°Cover the flanks! Three men to the¡ªack!¡± the soldier spluttered as a bulging cloaked figure grabbed his throat and snapped it like a twig. The terrorists were back. Their heads were lit up with ritual circles, and their bodies inflated, burning with the fire of their stars burning to a crisp as they extracted every shred of power they could. Karen moved with absolute determination and supernatural swiftness, unerring with her swings as she carved the restraints off anyone still tied up. Even Phillip, despite the visible dread on his face, took his shield from his storage ring and raised it, eyes shifting for anyone to defend. Meanwhile, Jacob stood frozen, completely unable to move. His knees quivered, and he balled a fist, punching himself in the thigh as he tried pushing himself to move, but he could barely budge. The soldiers were getting torn to pieces. He saw the scorpion-tailed woman appear from behind a tree. Briefly, his mind flashed with the ¡°plans and predictions¡± they had strategized beforehand. Those pitiful ideas came crumbling in a second. The woman¡¯s form pulsated as her tail grew three times its size. Despite her intimidating presence, Karen lunged at her, raising her sword high as she prepared to fight. The scorpion tail flashed with such horrifying speed that Jacob would have missed it if he could blink. One moment, Karen was bravely charging at her opponent. The next, she had been impaled through her chest. She spat blood as she tried resisting one final time, but the next moment, her body was flooded with venom, and her flesh was rotting apart. He saw Jack go briefly invisible as he scored a swing, cutting a terrorist¡¯s head off. In the next moment, a massive fist was rushing straight at his face, but Jean appeared to parry it. Jean negated the blow, but the massive man didn¡¯t even stumble as he threw a second punch. The woman¡¯s body was broken in two as she failed to dodge. Jack screamed, but his face was grabbed with supernatural speed, and his head, just the way Rachel¡¯s had been, was smashed into the nearby tree. Once. Twice. Thrice. Then over and over and over until there was nothing but a bloody pulp left. Briefly, Jacob spotted Theodore. He met the man¡¯s gaze for a brief moment. The next second, Theodore picked Beatrice up and went invisible, vanishing into nothing as he made his escape. With a trembling step, Jacob turned around and did the same thing. He ran for his life. One shockwave after another washed over the battlefield, raising plumes of dust and deafening him. He didn¡¯t hesitate. He didn¡¯t turn back. Briefly, he ran past that man¡ªLiam¡ªand saw him staring at another bulging figure. It was that woman he had been with. He didn¡¯t have the time to ponder that scenario. He simply continued running. *** Freddy watched Sophia¡¯s body inflate slowly as the constraints around her wrists snapped. She screamed, shouting in agony as she resisted whatever was happening to her. He watched a life spark flash in her body as it burned. It did nothing. But then a second lit up. And a third. And a fourth. And finally, a fifth. With that, she stopped inflating, and the circle on her forehead finally shattered, losing its sinister glow. It left a deep, black mark. ¡°Holy shit!¡± she screamed. ¡°What the hell was that!?¡± In the next moment, an arrow embedded itself into her stomach. Freddy turned with horror to face the soldier who had fired the arrow. The soldier looked panicked as he turned around and shouted. ¡°Two on the flank!¡± Chapter 94 - Scramble There was no time to think. Freddy jumped before Sophia as a barrage of arrows flew their way, most of them landing right on his skin and embedding, albeit rather shallowly, as his Thousand Wet Hells-tempered body resisted the projectiles, while the rest of them bounced off the massive shackles, keeping him restrained. The soldier who was holding Freddy¡¯s leash had thankfully let it go to fend for his life. Sophia pulled the arrow out of her stomach and used her life essence to seal the wound. It was a crude measure, something that would leave a permanent scar without her talent, but it would keep her from bleeding out for the time being. Thankfully, the volley of arrows didn¡¯t last long. After only ten seconds of being turned into a hedgehog, the berserk cultists finally reached the group of soldiers, who were promptly forced to change their target. It was hard to see the whole picture. The tall boulders and thick trees limited the view in almost every direction, leaving them only with the deafening sounds of combat. ¡°Are you good!?¡± Sophia shouted. Freddy slowly turned around to face her, shaking like a leaf in the wind. She flinched as she saw the arrow in his eye, as well as the dozens upon dozens of other arrows scattered throughout his whole body. ¡°Do I look good?¡± he snapped, tearing the arrow out of his eye, but his voice was weak. It was hard to talk with such severe injuries. They didn¡¯t get a long time to rest. A moment later, a fist-sized projectile of stone cracked against Freddy¡¯s skull, whipping his neck back, but with his thickened bones, it hadn¡¯t done enough to knock him unconscious. The two of them turned to face a flying man just in time for that man to pierce Freddy straight through the heart with a shortsword. The man was about to tear the sword out to strike again, but Freddy¡¯s blood suddenly coagulated into a metallic substance that filled his chest cavity and locked the sword in place. Before the flying man could realize that his sword wouldn¡¯t be leaving Freddy¡¯s chest any time soon, Freddy grabbed his arm, pulled him in, and grasped his neck, barely reaching it given the restraints limiting his movement. Whatever kept the man afloat suddenly flared as both of them jolted into the sky, dragging the several-meter-long chain leash up with them. The man¡¯s other hand manifested a spike of earth that rushed to pierce Freddy¡¯s other eye, only to bounce off his forehead, but not before taking a chunk of skin off. Suddenly, the cuffs keeping Freddy restrained started blaring with a high-pitched alarm as the artifact detected the essence flowing through Freddy¡¯s arm. A moment later, a Hydraulic Flex powered by both his stars crushed the man¡¯s neck into a paste, mangling his flesh and crushing his spinal cord. The rush of lifesteal instantly stopped Freddy¡¯s bleeding, and the first-aid-quality healing pushed half of the arrows out of his skin, but the other half was buried too deep to be ejected so quickly. Once the influx of ether reached Freddy¡¯s body, he knew that the man was dead. They fell back to the ground, which caused many of the arrows to break as their tips embedded deeper into Freddy¡¯s body. ¡°Fuuuck,¡± he groaned. He was blind in one eye. He was heavily restrained. His heart had been cut straight through, and a chunk of metallic blood was coagulated all around it. Blood wasn¡¯t flowing through his veins, and his Pool of Blood was steadily leaking through the puncture in his heart. He rushed to his feet, feeling the uncomfortable sensation of his flesh and skin being cut by the metal arrowheads, but he ignored the pain as he raised his guard. He felt dizzy, and fatigue was beginning to settle in his body. He had to get his heart pumping again. Sophia grabbed his arm. ¡°Come on!¡± she shouted. ¡°We have to run!¡± ¡°Run where!?¡± he yelled back. Indeed. They were surrounded by fighting on all sides. The only direction that was relatively clear was the place where the empress was fighting someone. That place had gone relatively quiet, and Sophia and Freddy looked over simultaneously to see what was happening. Only then did he notice the tall sentient ether construct through the storm of sensations he was feeling. His blood ran cold as he felt its power and authority envelop him with such a force that he nearly felt compelled to kneel before the being. It was an eidolon. And by the looks of it, it was allied with a strange man. Well, that¡¯s none of my fucking business, Freddy decided as he started looking for another way to go. For a moment, his eyes flickered to Sophia, and he saw the stricken expression on her face. She looked¡­ sad¡ªconfused. She was shaking as she kept her eyes locked on the strange man who was facing the empress. ¡°Not the time for this, Sophia!¡± he yelled as he tugged on her arm. It was definitely someone she recognized. Given that the man was facing the empress, he absolutely had to be the leader of their cult. And if he could face her, he was a five-star, which was horrifying. This was not their fight. Not that day, not in a hundred years. Sophia tore her gaze away from the man and shuddered. She nodded her head briefly and refocused. The shackles keeping Freddy tied were thankfully quiet now that he wasn¡¯t using his essence, and they still allowed him to run relatively freely. The weakness that was slowly spreading through his limbs like wildfire wasn¡¯t so merciful. ¡°Sophia¡­¡± he whispered. ¡°You have no more sparks left, right?¡± She nodded. He swallowed. ¡°Take one from that man¡¯s corpse.¡± It was a desperate move, but it would hopefully be enough to at least remove the chunk of metal in his chest. The rest would have to be handled through his talent. She nodded hesitantly and obeyed. A few seconds later, the spark was burning through Freddy¡¯s body with an intense healing energy. It was filthy, way nastier in substance and feeling than his talent. The chunk of metal in his chest broke apart into pieces, the biggest of which were pushed out of his flesh, but several smaller ones stayed behind, together with most of the arrowheads. His heart was back in one piece and back to pumping blood. There was a massive bloody gash on his right pec, and several of his ribs were broken beneath. A deep nausea had spread through his body. He could see patches of his skin growing discolored, and he felt like his organs were melting. That was one hell of a price to pay for a bit of healing. It was way worse than what Sophia described, likely due to whatever that ritual circle was doing to the cultists. The two of them broke into a run in a random direction away from the empress and the strange man. The action around them was still incredibly intense, and from what little they could glimpse between the thick foliage, it was plain to see that the soldiers were losing. Formal training and tactics were an excellent way to overcome superior power. But when that superior power was backed by elite training, there was little that could be done. Freddy watched a cultist walk through a volley of arrows as if they were a mere inconvenience, completely ignoring any that embedded into their skin as they ran forth and tore the soldiers limb from limb. Sophia wasn¡¯t fucking around when she said that these people are nuts! They moved around a tree, over a boulder, and through a bush, only to¡ª A massive fist crashed right into Freddy¡¯s left cheek, cracking the bone beneath and sending him flying. He slammed right into a tree, and a second later, another punch smashed right into his chest, crushing the chains into powder and caving his lungs in. Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. A wheeze escaped his mouth as he opened his one good eye to look at his assailant. A titan of a man loomed before him, cocking a head-sized fist back as his bulging muscles flared. Freddy barely moved his head out of the way of a punch that would have likely crushed his head. The tree behind him exploded. He jumped to the side, barely carrying himself a few feet onward, but the man pursued him, throwing another punch. Freddy raised his cuffed hands, only for the man¡¯s blow to shatter both the cuffs and Freddy¡¯s arms as he was sent flying back again, this time, back-first into a large boulder. Once he blinked the black spots out of his vision, he saw Sophia standing frozen with a scorpion-tailed woman before her. The two of them seemed to be talking. A chill pulsed down Freddy¡¯s spine, but he didn¡¯t have the time to consider it as he stumbled out of the way of another massive blow. The man didn¡¯t let him get far this time as he grabbed Freddy¡¯s right arm and swung him into the boulder, then at the ground, and then at a nearby tree, but before Freddy¡¯s body could smash into the tree, his mangled, twisted arm tore off, sending him skittering across a patch of sandy soil. His vision was blurry, but Freddy could see the man charging at him. He was about to use Leviathan¡¯s Fury, but the man suddenly leaped out of his field of view, and Freddy felt the shell for Leviathan¡¯s Fury lock as he realized with a profound sense of dread that he couldn¡¯t use the ability if he couldn¡¯t see the target. The man was seconds away from landing on Freddy¡¯s back, and if he succeeded, it would be lights out. Left without another option, Freddy focused on Create Water, activating both his stars as he coupled it with Perished Water. He pushed with all he had, manifesting as much water as possible. Within a few moments, a solid 70% of his essence vanished as a massive sphere of water manifested all around him. For a moment, he was fully submerged. For the first time, every inch of his skin was enveloped by Perished Water. Then, he felt a particular shell in his soul finally unlock. Without knowing what it was, Freddy desperately rushed to activate the second ether shell of the Perished Water affinity. Suddenly, it was as if the water around him became an extension of his body. He felt every drop of it clearly as he sensed the bulky man¡¯s body sinking into it. Within the Perished Water swam the Ghosts of the Drowned¡ªand he was their master. He felt his essence slowly trickle down as he gave the command. An eel-like creature rushed at the man¡¯s leg, biting down on it. His skin was like pure stone. Another small ghost moved through the water and clawed at the man¡¯s arm. It only left a small scrape along the man¡¯s arm. Freddy didn¡¯t panic. Instead, he focused on all the other remaining ghosts. The man¡¯s head finally reached the inside of the mass of water. Every remaining ghost suddenly rushed at the man¡¯s eyes as soon as he was fully submerged. Before he could raise his guard, it was already too late. A stinger pierced the man¡¯s right eye while a toothy tongue tore the left one apart. In less than three seconds, the mass of water had appeared and flowed away. The broken Freddy stumbled up to his feet as the giant of a man screamed bloody murder on the ground next to him. Despite his injuries, the giant figure still managed to roll away and climb to his feet, just in time for a two-star-powered Flowing Strike to ram Gore Knuckles right into his stomach. Freddy¡¯s attack landed with far more force than he expected it to. The man¡¯s whole body was lifted off the ground for a solid second, despite his incredible body weight, but even with that, it took the man only a second to react by reaching an arm to grab at where Freddy was, but Freddy managed to stumble to the side as he swung a second strike at the same spot. And a third. The attacks had devastating results. The man spat blood and stumbled back. The two strikes alleviated many of Freddy¡¯s injuries, but he wasn¡¯t even close to regrowing his right arm, which was missing elbow-up. Still, much of the many injuries marring his body had been at least patched back together by first-aid-quality healing, so he was in far better shape. His mind whirled. His essence reserves weren¡¯t doing so well. Within seconds, he had expended 130% essence, leaving him at only around 60%. The man was blind. Freddy had no reason to continue the fight. Sophia was just behind one of the boulders, and he turned to¡ª The sound of feet shifting on the ground was all the warning Freddy got as another punch flew right at his side. He barely moved out of the way in time, only for the man to throw yet another punch, which landed a glancing blow this time, dislocating the shoulder on Freddy¡¯s torn arm. ¡°Shit!¡± he shouted as he leaped back, only to be followed by the blinded man. With the senses of a two-star and extensive training, it was possible to fight even without eyesight, but it wasn¡¯t something any ordinary warrior was capable of. Bracing himself, Freddy resorted to only using Hydraulic Flex in passive mode with both stars activated. His essence expenditure raised just above 3% per second, and with his satellite, that left him with less than a minute to finish his opponent and go find Sophia. He reformed his Gore Knuckles, took out the Dagger of Bleeding, and got started. The giant¡¯s punches were incredibly precise and quick, leaving Freddy with many glancing blows across his body. This gave the cultist more information on where he was moving, allowing him to press the attack. Still, despite being on the back foot, Freddy struck back, mainly on the man¡¯s forearms. Gore Knuckles struggled to get through the man¡¯s ridiculously tough skin, but when they pierced through, the bleeding effect of the dagger made the injuries considerably more dangerous than they appeared to be at first glance. Before long, the man threw splatters with every swing of his arm. He was losing a lot of blood. So much that it appeared to be slowing the giant down. Freddy capitalized on the man¡¯s sudden decrease in speed to lunge in. That was a massive mistake. The man suddenly sped up, and Freddy immediately realized he had been tricked. Before he could react, the man¡¯s hand reached his head, wrapping giant fingers around his face. A moment later, Freddy¡¯s head struck the ground. Then again. Then again. With the first strike, he lost all hearing in his left ear, and with the second, the hearing in his right was gone, too. He couldn¡¯t see anything; it wasn¡¯t just from the man¡¯s palm blocking his view¡ªhis vision was blacking out; now, even the desperate solution of using Leviathan¡¯s Fury was off the table. He cast Create Perished Water with roughly 30% essence, conjuring a giant bubble, but not enough to fully submerge him. Not enough to use Ghosts of the Drowned. The ghosts cut into his body just as much as they did his opponent¡¯s, and a moment later, the last of the water flowed away. Freddy¡¯s head was smashed into the ground again. And again. And again. A strange clarity seeped into his mind. How was he even still alive? He couldn¡¯t tell. Maybe it was the undeath. Maybe it was Thousand Wet Hells. Maybe it was Sophia¡¯s help. Maybe it was all those things combined. At any rate, whatever it was wouldn¡¯t last long. The back of his head grew softer with every strike as his skull splintered and fell apart. The feeling in most of his body was already gone. As his sense of his body started to fade, he only felt the things directly tied to his spirit. He felt Bloodshed watch on from deep within his soul. He wanted to release it to at least let it escape. But he couldn¡¯t focus long enough to do that. He felt the ring on his finger and the way it empowered his blood essence. It was such a fascinating phenomenon¡ªso alien and strange. He felt chunks and pieces of his life force chip away one piece at a time. Finally, he felt the storage ring on his finger. He felt the items inside. Before he could even realize what he was doing, he extracted the massive bag of nearly 200 doses of lethal poison. Although he didn¡¯t feel his body, he didn¡¯t need feeling to move it. Hydraulic Flex activated, forcing his arm to throw the bag roughly in the direction of the man¡¯s face. A second later, the constant lurching stopped as the world stilled again. Freddy didn¡¯t feel his talent activate, but that was because it couldn¡¯t be triggered by such indirect means. The poison had come from neither his body nor his abilities. But if he had managed to hit the man, then he was also covered in a highly potent toxin. It wouldn¡¯t be long until he was gone, too. He willed to extract the Spark of Undeath. As soon as he did, he slammed his Gore Knuckles into it. A pulse of healing essence coursed through his body. He didn¡¯t feel his body, but he felt the life force at work more clearly than ever before. He felt it form thin connective tissue at the back of his head and throughout his wounded body. His vision was still dark, but the barest hint of feeling returned to his body¡ªand he felt the giant man¡¯s body pressing down on his own. ¡°Shit¡­¡± Freddy whispered. ¡°At least take me out on a date first.¡± The man was unmoving, but Freddy hadn¡¯t received a rush of lifesteal. Meaning he was most likely just paralyzed and not entirely dead. Freddy rushed to use Create Water and wash off the poison covering his own body before he suffered the same fate. Then, without a single hint of hesitation, he slammed his Gore Knuckles into the man¡¯s neck. A massive pulse of lifesteal coursed through his body as he felt the man¡¯s warm blood running down his torso. He did it again. A few moments later, the rush of ether came. The man was dead. Freddy slammed his fist repeatedly into the Spark of Undeath, urgently healing himself as much as he could manage. The damage on his body was so extensive that, without at least half an hour, he didn¡¯t have enough time to fully heal. But he had more than enough time to give the body parts that were still attached to him a dose of natural-quality healing. As soon as he could see again, he pulled himself out from under the man¡¯s corpse and got to his feet. He quickly retrieved his Dagger of Bleeding and Spark of Undeath and rushed to where Sophia was. As soon as he turned the bend, he was greeted by the sight of the scorpion-tailed woman slowly turning to face him¡­ And Sophia¡¯s dismembered body scattered across the ground. Chapter 95 - Asura Freddy¡¯s mind froze as he saw the scene. But he didn¡¯t panic. He couldn¡¯t afford to. Sophia¡¯s head was in one piece; there was a good chance she could still be healed. The scorpion-tailed woman slowly turned her head to face him. While the man had been more like a wild animal, the woman was entirely in control of herself despite the incredible power pulsing through her body. On top of that, while Freddy had felt the man¡¯s power as a peak two-star, he didn¡¯t sense this woman¡¯s power at all. She was a star above him. And if that wasn¡¯t enough, whatever this ritual had done to her, it didn¡¯t make her any weaker. ¡°You beat Damian¡­?¡± she asked, looking rather amused. ¡°Fascinating. You were her friend, right?¡± she said as she turned to face Sophia¡¯s dismantled body. He could hear the woman¡¯s voice, but it sounded slightly muffled, almost like she was talking through a wall. The woman seemed to be willing to speak. He lunged at the opportunity. ¡°Why do you want to know?¡± he asked in turn. He was exhausted both in body and spirit. He didn¡¯t have time to summon Bloodshed or enough blood to make it count, and he was missing an eye and a whole arm. The odds of him winning against this woman were hilariously low. But maybe, just maybe¡­ he could still find a way out. The woman shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m just curious. She was always a lonely girl, this one,¡± she said fondly, almost as if talking about her little sister. ¡°Too bad she willingly reduced herself to this. Anyway, you seem oddly calm,¡± she noted. ¡°Do you not want to avenge her? Does your kind not feel such emotions, or are you just particularly barbaric in nature?¡± ¡°I could say the same thing about you,¡± he said. ¡°Are you not sad that I killed your friend?¡± She snickered. ¡°You are not the one who killed him. You merely hastened his death.¡± She tapped the ritual circle on her forehead. ¡°This power comes with a price.¡± ¡°You people are fucking insane,¡± he spat. ¡°What are you waiting for, then? Shouldn¡¯t you go join your leader in his fight before your battery runs out?¡± She smiled at him. ¡°My role is to keep distractions away. I count as one of those.¡± Freddy felt sweat trickle down his back. He tried thinking of something to say, but nothing other than provocations came to mind. Unless a miracle intervened, it would come to a fight. And he would lose. He looked at the pulsating stinger hanging above the woman¡¯s head. That thing could crush his head like a watermelon. Sophia had managed to keep her head. If he could fight her and get a similar result, maybe¡ª ¡°Oh, and by the way,¡± the woman called. ¡°I¡¯m aware that she¡¯s still alive.¡± She moved her stinger over, caressing Sophia¡¯s mangled head with the tip. Freddy¡¯s blood suddenly ran cold. Of course she was¡ªshe would have felt the influx of ether if Sophia had died. And she wouldn¡¯t be fooled by him, either. He stood frozen as the woman cackled, breaking into a manic laughter. Her shrill voice echoed in his ears. ¡°Think fast,¡± she said, as her tail suddenly whipped, sweeping Freddy off his feet, and then impaled him into the ground right through his navel. He spat blood as he felt a chunk of his own insides rushing up his throat. She raised his body off the ground with her tail and slammed him into a tree, which suddenly began growing thick branches that coiled around his body. ¡°As I thought, you¡¯re undead, too,¡± she commented, quirking an eyebrow. ¡°What a coincidence. Where did you meet her; at a zombie support group?¡± Her stinger moved closer until it was an inch away from his eye. ¡°I just have to crush your head, and that will be it¡­¡± Then, her stinger stabbed into his thigh, shattering his femur and almost severing his entire leg. He groaned through gritted teeth, focusing on stopping the bleeding as best as he could. ¡°Quite the pain tolerance you have,¡± she said, walking closer. ¡°Must have lived a difficult life¡­¡± At that moment, her placid mask of calm cracked, and an expression of rage flickered through her eyes. ¡°Tell me¡­ was she happy with her choice? Picking you pathetic beasts over a life for the greater good? Did she enjoy the fruits of what you people dare call a society?¡± She flicked her stinger again, crushing Freddy¡¯s other leg. ¡°Did she find the happiness and freedom she wanted?¡± She stopped in front of Freddy, grabbing his jaw and staring him down. Her green eyes were wide open, piercing deep into his soul. Pitch-black hair peeked through her hood, partly covering her face. ¡°I will die so that your people can one day live in peace. Yet I see no gratitude in your eyes.¡± Her eyes shifted. ¡°It doesn¡¯t feel as good as I thought it would. I almost feel like¡­ I¡¯m making a mistake.¡± Her fist landed right on Freddy¡¯s mangled stomach. She slowly pulled it out and shook her hand to throw off the piece of flesh sticking to it. ¡°I love my family, and I believe in our cause,¡± she said, sounding almost like she was trying to convince herself. ¡°But I don¡¯t want to die for vermin like you. So tell me, then¡ªhow did Sophia repel the ritual?¡± she asked with an intense madness so vivid that it nearly made him flinch. ¡°Is it your talent?¡± He had been wondering why the woman even bothered to keep him alive. Now, it finally made sense. A soft whisper escaped his lips, too quiet for even a three-star to hear. ¡°Hmm?¡± She quirked an eyebrow. Another whisper, barely audible. The woman brought her ear closer and finally heard what he said. ¡°Leviathan¡¯s Fury.¡± Instantly, the branches keeping him restrained tore apart as a dozen bony protrusions formed hellish jaws rushing to impale the woman. She was way too close to either block or dodge, and every single one of them reached her skin, piercing through it and drawing blood. The spikes retracted a long moment later, having severed the branches keeping him tied up, and Freddy¡¯s body fell to the ground, with many of his bones fractured¡ªbut the backlash wasn¡¯t as intense as he expected. In fact, the first-aid-quality healing had patched him up enough to move. The woman screamed in rage as she thrust her stinger, but he used Hydraulic Flex to push himself out of the way. His legs hung uselessly, given that they were attached by little more than pink, deformed tissue. With only a single functional arm, Freddy could do barely more than desperately claw himself out of the way of the stinger¡¯s attacks. The woman¡¯s assault was clumsy at first, but her nature affinity wasn¡¯t just for show¡ªmoments later, her skin was mending as her wounds closed back up. What looked like tiny roots of something growing an inch beneath the surface of her skin extended, pulling her wounds shut while her nature affinity hastened her recovery enough to get a hold of herself. But where her skin wasn¡¯t bloody, it was deathly pale. Even a three-star couldn¡¯t afford such a sudden and great burst of blood loss. Her legs shook as she looked like she was barely standing on her feet, and her skin glistened with the shiny sheen of perspiration. Yet, she was still a three-star. Suddenly, the grass around Freddy started wriggling. Like tiny tongues, the strands licked across his skin and caught on anything they could, slowing him down enough to make dodging the woman¡¯s attacks almost impossible. The next stringer thrust was far too close for Freddy¡¯s comfort. ¡°Wait!¡± he shouted. ¡°Spare me, and I¡¯ll tell you the secret!¡± he begged pathetically. She paused. ¡°Speak. Say the wrong thing, and I¡¯ll make you suffer a fate far worse than death!¡± she shouted as she raised her stinger high, preparing to stab him in an instant. ¡°Okay¡­ Leviathan¡¯s Fury!¡± The bony head of the leviathan struck out once again, and the sheer disbelief was nearly enough to stun the woman too long to react, but this time, she moved her stinger to block the incoming attack. The stinger¡¯s hard carapace repelled the ivory spikes, sparing her any damage, but the force knocked her off her feet. The jaws of bone clamped closed on empty air. This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. As the spikes retracted this time, Freddy was in a far worse state. His body simply refused to move. He did no damage with that attack, leaving him with no healing to offset the now broken bones and mangled flesh. He watched the woman slowly get back up, leaning on her stinger. The moment she stood again, he was dead. But what else could he even do? Leviathan¡¯s Fury was locked as he couldn¡¯t afford the price, and he was still in combat, so he couldn¡¯t use Blood Sacrifice. Something tugged on the back of his mind, and he heard a voice. Release me, Master. With only slight hesitation, Freddy obeyed and released Bloodshed from its shell. Rather than attack the woman, the skeleton immediately entered the Netherecho, disappearing the instant it arrived. The woman rushed to her feet with a jolt as she turned around and scanned the area. ¡°A spirit¡­?¡± she muttered but quickly brushed it off as she refocused on him. ¡°You had your chances.¡± She spit something out of her mouth and threw it over to him. Tiny seeds scattered around his body and quickly took root, growing in a heartbeat as thorny vines wrapped him up from head to toe. Immediately, he felt his whole body freeze. A poison coated the thorns, sinking into his skin, and it caused pain he could only compare to using Thousand Wet Hells. The inside of his veins felt like it was melting, and what remained of his muscles all cramped, thoroughly paralyzing him. ¡°The pain will worsen over time,¡± the woman stated matter-of-factly. ¡°Now, make your choice. Either tell me what Sophia did to repel the ritual or spend the last few hours of your life in hell.¡± Under ordinary circumstances, those words would make anyone feel pure terror. To Freddy, however, that sounded like salvation. He doubted she¡¯d wait there the whole time. And if she left him alone, he¡¯d have Bloodshed save him from his predicament. For a few long moments, he gave the woman a rebellious glare, but then he pretended to succumb to the pain as he groaned and squirmed. It sucked enough that he didn¡¯t really have to pretend to be suffering, but it wasn¡¯t nearly enough that it would break him. Several minutes passed, but the woman kept staring at him, waiting. Does she really have nowhere better to be!? ¡°Are you seriously that stupid!?¡± she shouted. ¡°Just tell me what she did! Are you going to die to keep it a secret? Or are you delusional enough to believe that you can still fight your way out?¡± she spat, and a moment later, she brought her stinger behind her back and hung it right above Sophia¡¯s head. He froze, stopping his squirming as he watched the woman. She chuckled in disbelief. ¡°I guess the pain suddenly vanished? Dear me¡­ You really are something, aren¡¯t you?¡± her face suddenly fell as an expression of rage descended on it. ¡°Give it up.¡± He gritted his teeth. ¡°Who are you, anyway?¡± the woman asked. ¡°Such a powerful spirit ability is something I¡¯d never expect to see on a two-star.¡± She paused for a moment. Suddenly, her expression of rage softened a bit as she worked to place a smile on her face. ¡°Look, I know you don¡¯t trust me to spare you, but I swear on everything that ever meant anything to me that I will if you just tell me what to do!¡± Her desperation was the only thing keeping Freddy alive. And, obviously, he had no answer for her. Not one she wanted to hear. Unless she could somehow heal Sophia enough to wake her up, she was a dead woman walking. Just as he was about to get desperate, something bizarre happened. The glowing ritual circle on the woman¡¯s forehead appeared to¡­ turn off. It dissipated some form of sinister energy, and a moment later, her bulging muscles deflated as the strange power coursing through her faded away. She breathed out a shivering breath, relief washing over her as a tear ran down the side of her face. ¡°I¡¯m alive¡­ Master must have¡ª¡± Before she could say another word, Bloodshed suddenly appeared right behind her and swung its clawed fingers, severing her Achilles tendons. She screamed in surprise and fell over back-first as if the ground had vanished from under her feet, landing on Bloodshed¡¯s extended arm, which pierced right through her back and, a moment later, ripped her still-beating heart out. The woman tried screaming, but it came out as a wheeze. She squirmed on the ground, watching the emotionless spirit with an expression of terror as she muttered, ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t want¡­ to die¡­¡± She clutched her robes right where her heart used to be. And a moment later, she stopped moving. Freddy stared at the bloody skeleton, mouth wide open. ¡°Holy shit, Bloodshed¡­¡± he whispered. ¡°I hope my service is to your satisfaction, Master. I apologize for taking my time. The construct upon her forehead was exchanging her life for power, and while it was still active, I wasn¡¯t confident in my ability to execute her. I took too long to break the construct. I will do better next time.¡± ¡°No, you¡ªyou did fucking fantastic!¡± he said with a manic laugh, relief washing over him. The vines keeping him wrapped up shriveled as the last of the woman¡¯s life faded away. Surprisingly, he seemed to get all the ether for the kill, likely as Bloodshed couldn¡¯t absorb any of it. And boy, was it a lot. Not as much as he got for killing the patriarch, but still, it was a massive influx. He thought of getting up, but nothing wanted to move, no matter which muscle he tried commanding mentally. A few could still twitch, but that was far from enough to help him move. As the relief truly sank in, so did the realization that he was barely holding on to his consciousness. So much for kicking the habit of passing out at bad times¡­ With the last of his willpower, he extracted the spark of undeath from his storage ring. His eyes met the empty eye sockets of Bloodshed, who nodded with understanding. And with that, his awareness blinked out. *** The empress stood, her body tense as she stared at the man before her. ¡°You goddamned psychopath! How the hell are you still alive!?¡± The sounds of fighting echoed throughout the forest around them, with the terrorists fighting the soldiers. Shouting and metallic clinks sounded in the background, reducing to the all-too-familiar background drone of war. ¡°Nice to see you again, too, Kaiya.¡± He chuckled. ¡°I thought you¡¯d drop those senseless allegations against me by now, but I suppose that wouldn¡¯t serve your agenda, would it?¡± ¡°Senseless allegations?¡± she spat, chuckling sardonically. ¡°I think that¡¯s enough talking.¡± She raised her sword, getting into a stance. ¡°Now, now,¡± he said, waving her down. ¡°You must be aware of the disadvantage you¡¯re at. I¡¯m giving you the chance to live for another few minutes; the least you can do is humor me for a bit.¡± ¡°You are overconfident.¡± ¡°And yet you still haven¡¯t made your move. How curious.¡± ¡°What do you want?¡± ¡°A debate, I suppose,¡± he said, chuckling. ¡°I want to see your point of view.¡± She smirked. ¡°Please spare me the nonsense, Nathaniel,¡± she said, slightly lowering her sword''s tip. ¡°Or do you still go by Silver Heart?¡± ¡°I go by Master Kirurg these days.¡± ¡°Figures.¡± The tension between them grew. The eidolon of authority waited patiently as the two five-stars waited, seeing who made the first move. The seconds passed by, and soon enough, they turned into minutes. The sounds of fighting in the background gradually quieted as the conflict came to an end. The crimson sky suddenly began fading. Both of them knew how this realm functioned, so they thought it was merely the Crimson Twilight coming to an end. But then, something bizarre happened. Blood from all throughout the forest started glowing. It lifted into the air, traveling towards the center of the realm. A power began roiling. The eidolon of authority raised its sword¡ªbut not at the empress. It turned towards the strange source of power at the center. The overwhelming aura of blood grew concentrated, focusing on a single point. And a moment later, it vanished. The two opponents couldn¡¯t afford to look away. They kept their attention firmly directed at one another, but as the seconds passed, the feeling that something was deeply wrong became undeniable. And judging by the eidolon¡¯s reaction, something, indeed, appeared to be coming. Nathaniel¡¯s eye twitched as both of them noticed that the eidolon was no longer paying attention to them. Almost instantly, the empress raised a wall of earth as she activated all five stars and started running in the other direction. She tried slashing at the red barrier to free Leona, but¡­ Leona nodded with an expression of understanding. The barrier wasn¡¯t going to go down that easily. ¡°Stay alive,¡± the empress commanded and continued running. *** ¡°Damn it!¡± Nathaniel shouted as he gritted his teeth. Just as he had her in his grasp, the damn eidolon had to¡ª He turned around just in time to spot the shadowy figure, barely discerning its form in the darkness. It stood over 4 meters tall, glaring down at the eidolon of authority as it held its sword in its grasp. The eidolon couldn¡¯t even budge. The creature¡¯s skin was a deep, crimson red, sleek like polished metal, and stretched tightly over its lithe, muscular body. Its face was like that of a demonic cat, with a grin spreading from one ear to another, massive, red, slitted eyes bulging wide open, and bat-like ears twitching in excitement. Nathaniel watched in horror as the creature grabbed the eidolon¡¯s head and crushed it like an apple. With the death of a powerful eidolon, the surrounding Netherecho briefly overlapped with reality, the two sides of the world interposing with one another, and a moment later, the world settled again, yet a few flickering wisps of ether remained in reality, fluttering through the air. Nathaniel couldn¡¯t help but chuckle. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you¡¯re an asura of forgiveness?¡± The creature spoke with a deep, raspy voice, a playful tone dancing through its words, ¡°I bear no grudge against anyone. But since you asked so nicely, I suppose I could give you a chance.¡± Its grin began spreading wider and wider as its eyes opened wider. ¡°Run.¡± Nathaniel immediately turned around and bolted towards the nearest passage. He quieted his presence as much as he could, covering himself in thick shadows as he pulled himself forward with Black Whips. Within less than thirty seconds, he was on the brink of stepping through a passage. A pleasant forest awaited him on the other side, but before he could make it, the asura peaked its head from within the passage, grinning widely at him. Razor-sharp claws tore his entire body into shreds, and just like that, his legend would forever remain just another page of the history books. *** Bloodshed kept the spark fed as it helped move Master¡¯s hand. The dagger pierced the mound of flesh, and with every swing, Master¡¯s complexion grew slightly brighter. But it was a slow process. The damage Master¡¯s body sustained was fierce this time; only second to that time he was reduced to a mere head. Suddenly, the red glow of the sky blinked out, and the aura of bloodthirst disappeared. It was an odd phenomenon, but it was nothing Bloodshed could control. It had a task. It would complete it. It kept at it, swinging the dagger over and over. Eventually, it was interrupted by a sound. The leaves rustled as a strange, sleek, crimson figure stepped from between the trees. Chapter 96 - Bloodshed’s Secret Freddy woke up with a jolt. As he did, he found himself in near-total darkness. For a long moment, he thought he was dead. As he heard the rustling of the several leaves scattered on the grass below him and felt around, feeling both his body and the ground beneath, he realized that that wasn¡¯t the case. Once the disorientation faded, he remembered having a flashlight in his storage ring. He took it out and flicked it on. ¡°Holy fucking¡­!¡± he shouted as the light landed on Bloodshed¡¯s skeletal face, startling him. ¡°Master, you are awake,¡± it said, cocking its head. ¡°Fucking hell, Bloodshed, you scared the everliving shit out of me!¡± He breathed a sigh of relief. ¡°I apologize.¡± He thought he was entirely used to Bloodshed¡¯s bizarre appearance. Apparently, that wasn¡¯t the case for situations like this. Freddy took a few seconds to feel around his body, ensuring he was properly healed. Everything seemed to be all right. ¡°Okay¡­¡± He took a deep breath and slowly released it, working to calm his nerves. ¡°Calm down¡­¡± he told himself, taking another breath and letting his shoulders loosen slightly. He was alive, and there was no immediate danger. It was time to assess his situation. First, he should ask Bloodshed what happened. ¡°Bloodshed, can you tell me what¡­?¡± his words trailed off as he spotted Sophia¡¯s shortsword by his side, resting next to the mangled spark of undeath. Bloodshed must have used it to help him stab the spark. He raised an eyebrow. Just as he was about to dismiss the detail, he realized that his dagger wasn¡¯t there. ¡°Oh shit!¡± he shouted. ¡°Did we lose the dagger?¡± ¡°No, Master,¡± it declared. ¡°The dagger¡¯s aura was fused into the ring on your finger.¡± ¡°It¡­ Wait, what!?¡± Freddy asked. ¡°Wait, wait, wait, hold on, that¡¯s¡­ That¡¯s not something that just happens!¡± He breathed out again, working to calm his nerves. ¡°Okay¡­ Yeah¡­ Tell me what happened.¡± The skeleton appeared hesitant for a long moment. Its head dropped slightly. This was something Freddy had never seen the skeleton do. ¡°Bloodshed?¡± he called cautiously. ¡°While you were unconscious, Master, we were visited by an asura.¡± Freddy blinked. ¡°A what now?¡± Bloodshed slowly raised its empty eye sockets. ¡°A sentient ether construct above an eidolon in power.¡± Freddy¡¯s entire body froze. Those words felt like getting struck by lightning. He didn¡¯t even know that things more powerful than that even existed. But¡­ more importantly¡­ With a shaky hand, Freddy spun and quickly illuminated the patch of forest around them. Nothing was there. He quickly rushed to turn off the flashlight lest he attract undesired attention. The realm felt strangely¡­ quiet. The Crimson Twilight was gone, and that feeling of bloodthirst¡ª¡°The limb¡­¡± he muttered. Bloodshed nodded. ¡°That limb belonged to the Asura of Bloodthirst. We were the ones to set it free. It visited us to repay the favor.¡± Freddy¡¯s entire body felt numb. The hand holding the flashlight shivered, and his heart beat out of his chest. The horror he felt as he prepared to ask the question nearly made him puke. ¡°And this¡­ asura¡­ where did it go?¡± ¡°It opened a passage and went through it.¡± ¡°Ah¡­¡± Freddy pitifully squeaked out. ¡°Opened a passage. Right. Okay. I guess fucking anything goes then.¡± He rubbed his face. ¡°Okay. Asura. Dagger. Favor. I¡¯m starting to piece things together. So¡­ this thing fused the dagger with my ring?¡± ¡°Not exactly.¡± Bloodshed said. ¡°It fused the dagger¡¯s aura into the ring. Most of the power was lost, but now, the effect can apply to everything Master does.¡± Freddy stared at Bloodshed for a long moment. He blinked. ¡°Ev¡ªEverything?¡± Bloodshed nodded. ¡°Hah¡­ I should do favors for asuras more often. Okay,¡± he slowly got himself back up to his feet and turned the flashlight on again, but turned it down to minimal brightness. A fog hung over his mind, and the general sense of anxiety made his thoughts rush through his mind too fast to keep up. He didn¡¯t even know where to begin. ¡°Sophia!¡± he suddenly exclaimed, rushing to find her head. It had tumbled under a bush while the rest of her body was scattered all across the clearing. It was covered in blood with chunks of grass and leaves sticking to it, deathly cold to the touch, and her eyes were rolled back. There were a few minor cuts across her face but nothing to indicate internal damage. ¡°Fuck this is gross,¡± he muttered as he reluctantly picked her severed head up and¡­ shook it. He was trying to discern whether anything in the skull was loose, primarily to determine whether she had suffered significant brain damage. He felt nothing unusual¡ªwell, not that he¡¯d ever shaken a severed head before, but at least nothing was bouncing around in there. But it was¡­ jiggling. ¡°Ewww, urghhh, I hate this.¡± His fingers nearly hurt at the touch of her skin. It was like holding a hot potato. He didn¡¯t want to be there or do what he was doing. It was gross and made him feel like throwing up, but knowing that she was most likely still alive made him unable to just leave her behind. Freddy¡¯s knowledge of how to save someone from such a state was¡­ non-existent. All he knew about treating others was basic first aid, and even that was a bit shaky. He went off of what he knew about undeath. Those who found themselves in a state similar to Sophia¡¯s usually didn¡¯t survive for long. Without circulating blood, there was no functioning immune system, meaning nothing could prevent the fungi or bacteria from slowly eating away at the tissue. He¡¯d have to do that manually. For the time being, he cleaned her head, washing it in water he created with his spell. Then, he cut her hair off, reasoning that it would be easier to keep it sanitary that way¡­ probably. Her hair was greasy and full of filth, and any source of contamination wasn¡¯t welcome. Once done with that, he rubbed some of the supreme-quality healing cream over her skin. The cream absorbed quickly, improving her skin complexion. He saw the small wounds close up, which was, at the very least, a sign that some of her cells were still alive. He found the corpse of the scorpion-tailed woman and looked for her ring. She had one on her, but it, to his surprise, was completely empty. It was likely that the woman had used all her resources, which, to be fair, wasn¡¯t unreasonable at all, given that the storage space was only a fraction¡ªaround an eight¡ªof the size of Freddy¡¯s ring. The man he had killed also had an empty ring. It was even smaller. Still, they were both valuable items. He stashed them, together with Sophia¡¯s ring, away in his half-torn pocket. And then he¡­ well¡­ he was about to put Sophia¡¯s head in his storage ring. Nothing prevented him from doing so. But there was no space. He could make space by swapping out the spark of undeath for Sophia¡¯s head, but without Sophia around, nobody could supply him with another spark. With some hesitation, he picked out a few of Janhalar¡¯s trinkets and removed them. He smashed them into pieces, checking the chunks for any serial numbers or possible tracking devices. Once he scraped off the serial numbers with a rock and crushed anything that seemed even a little ethertechy into dust, he threw the pieces as far as he could, scattering them through the forest. Then, he stored Sophia¡¯s head in the ring. ¡°Okay¡­¡± He took a long moment to think his next step through. Frankly, he felt paralyzed. From the empress to the strange cult to the appearance of an asura, the situation was so complicated that he couldn¡¯t possibly even begin to guess what would happen next. Under these circumstances he only had one real option¡ªhe had to hide. Although pulling off would be a bit tough, there was a manual way he could keep Sophia¡¯s head from rotting. He had a rough idea of where he was and where he had to go to hide. Rather than use the flashlight and attract attention, he swallowed three of the perception pills and turned the light off. His nose was already mostly used to it, so he hadn¡¯t quite registered it, but the whole realm smelled like rotting carcass. Now that he¡¯d swallowed a high dose of a drug that boosted his perception, he quickly found himself on the floor, heaving and retching with nothing to throw up. And the headache appeared again. Once he finally adjusted, he slowly got up. Bloodshed returned to his soul, and he crawled through the woods. There was nothing alive. Nothing. It was filled with such pure, overwhelming silence that he felt every hair on his body stand on end. Eventually, that silence was interrupted as he heard spirits cackling in the distance. The happenings within the realm must have generated a truly unbelievable amount of ether. Unsurprisingly, the number and power of sentient ether constructs had surged. Thankfully, he didn¡¯t cross paths with any of them, and before long, he spotted the faint light of a passage leading to another realm. It was the same realm he and Sophia had waited in. It was the only one he was even vaguely familiar with, so he figured it was likely the best place to hide. Once inside, he located a safe corner, climbed into a tree, and sat down. *** Bloodshed sat within its shell, observing Master¡¯s actions as he got comfortable and prepared to sleep atop a high branch. The encounter with the asura was still vivid in Bloodshed¡¯s mind. If Bloodshed¡¯s existence wasn¡¯t tied to Master¡¯s soul, the asura would have killed him. It was a creature with absolute loyalty to its kin¡ªblood constructs¡ªand an eternal thirst for the blood of all living creatures. If this ¡°sector,¡± as the asura had called it, wasn¡¯t too weak for its notice, the result would have been catastrophic for Master¡¯s kind. Bloodshed wondered whether it should tell Master the secrets the asura had shared. Master was cursed with a fate that would always inevitably drag him into bloodshed. Master¡¯s entire world was little more than food for a larger ecosystem. His planet was in an ¡°integration¡± phase, and the following years would spell a disaster Master¡¯s kind was incredibly unlikely to survive through. A grand war was looming on the horizon. But it kept its mouth shut. Bloodshed was devoted to its master, but it was no fool. Master¡ªno¡­ Freddy was weak. Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. He wasn¡¯t mature enough to hear any of this. What purpose was there in telling a pond fish about the vast ocean? No, he had to go through the steps as he put the pieces together himself. Meanwhile, Bloodshed had other things to tend to. For a long while, Bloodshed had thought its growth had been severed by merging with Master¡¯s soul. Far from it. If anything, that had only been the first step to entering the next level of power. Not by itself, no, but together with Master. The true purpose of the ¡°spirit abilities,¡± as the humans called them, was much grander than they believed. And not only did Master already have two, but both of them held true ether constructs within. But he needed one more. Otherwise, he would never reach a power beyond five stars. *** Freddy woke up from a restless sleep. He panicked for a moment and nearly fell off his perch on the tree, but he grabbed it in time to stop it from happening. ¡°I guess I should find food for now,¡± he decided as he slid down the tree. That ordinary task marked the beginning of his life in the Capragorn realm. Days passed one after another, although it wasn¡¯t like he could count them. Tracking days was impossible in that realm. It was always day¡ªalways sunny. His main source of food was raw nebber flesh. It was unappetizing, probably not very nutritious, and definitely unsafe to eat unprocessed. At first, his schedule was as simple as could be. Eat, sleep, rest, and wait. Oh, and make sure that Sophia¡¯s head didn¡¯t rot. His solution to the problem was to develop Purify¡ªa simple water-affinity spell that purified liquids. It could deal with bacteria and other impurities but wasn¡¯t a perfect solution. The issue with using Purify like this was that it purified everything. Blood? More like water. Extracellular fluid? More like water. Cerebrospinal fluid? Yeah, more like water. Thankfully, that was one of the things that undeath was perfect for dealing with. His ability only cleared the liquids outside of Sophia¡¯s undead cells, which ensured that she, at the very least, didn¡¯t start growing mushrooms anywhere. Naturally, that made the head look quite deflated. But she was still alive. Occasionally, he checked up on the gorel realm. It appeared that Bloodshed had indeed destroyed the sun¡ªit was always night in there now. But even with that fact, he saw no signs of human activity. Or any activity for that matter. As time passed, his visits to the passage became less and less frequent. Given all the free time he had, he found himself devoting more and more of it to training. He had to get his mind off his situation somehow. Over time, he got more daring. Before long, he had his first run-in with a capragorn. The creature tore his guts out with a single swing, but in turn, it took a flowing strike to its chest, which completely shattered its bony torso and killed it immediately. That was far from his first encounter with the horrifying monsters. While he couldn¡¯t track days, he could track all the times he slept. Soon, that number went over 10. Then 20. Then 30. Then 50. Nothing came through the Gorel realm passage. And the days of solitude continued to stretch on. *** Freddy washed his face in the water. Once he finished scrubbing, he let the water settle and checked his reflection. His hair had grown a few inches, now reaching over his ears. He raised his head and looked up. He was in the middle of a grove with tall trees around him. Their canopy cast a gentle shade over his back as he gazed across the water. The large lake¡ªa massive body of water stretching through a good chunk of the realm he was in, was gorgeous. He got up and walked to the closest tree. With practiced ease, and despite his immense body weight, he climbed up the branches until he reached the makeshift platform he called home. There, he sat on the ground and took Sophia¡¯s bald head out of the storage ring. It looked incredibly pale and shrunken, courtesy of the method he was using to keep her alive. He placed his fingers on her scalp and channeled Purify. At first, he had nightmares from tending to Sophia¡¯s severed head. But as time passed, it became almost meditative. Maybe it was just a cope, but he kept in mind the fact that he was working to preserve her life. There was value in that. No matter how grotesque the process. Once done, he returned her head to the ring and sat down to meditate. From his best guess, somewhere between 3 to 4 had months passed since he first entered that realm. With how long he had spent alone, he had plenty of theories about what happened. Maybe the empress had died, and the American Empire was being overwhelmed by the cultists. Maybe the empress had won but had to seal the passage because the asura appeared. Or maybe the asura had actually made a passage out into Nova York, where it promptly killed absolutely everyone because there was nothing powerful enough to stop it on the entire planet. At any rate, his guesses were only guesses. In reality, he was completely oblivious to the truth. As he meditated, he worked extra hard to temper his patience. He was immortal and in absolutely no rush to return to anything. No matter how much time he had to spend living in that realm, it was better than dying. He had to be honest with himself¡ªthe words ¡°better than dying¡± were slowly starting to lose all meaning. But he was still holding on. At least the training he was doing was paying off. His notebook appeared in his hand, and he cracked it open to write down his progress. GATHERING: Second star¡ª199% Essence capacity TALENT: 1% Lifesteal: Dynamic-quality healing SOUL CONSTRUCT: Scythe: Essence Extraction TEMPERING TECHNIQUES: Blood affinity: Pool of Blood: Stage 1¡ª97% Progress Crimson Mercury: Stage 1¡ª48% Progress Water affinity: Adaptive Water Body: Stage 1¡ªComplete Thousand Wet Hells: Stage 1¡ª38% Progress Abyssal Depths: Stage 1¡ª90% Progress ACTIVE ABILITIES: Blood affinity: Gore Knuckles: Stage 1¡ª71% Progress Water affinity: Flowing Strike: Stage 1¡ª89% Progress Hydraulic Flex: Stage 1¡ª67% Progress Create Water: Stage 1¡ª48% Progress Purify: Stage 0¡ª99% Progress (Ready to Upgrade) Pressure Jet: Unfinished ether shell Perished water affinity: Perished Water: Stage 0¡ª8% Progress Ghosts of the Drowned: Stage 0¡ª8% Progress SPIRIT ABILITIES: Blood Sacrifice Leviathan¡¯s Fury UNIQUE CURSED ITEMS: Blood Ring: -6% essence cost, +5% power for blood-affinity abilities. Can be used to release Bloodshed. Attacks inflict minor bleeding. As he flipped through the pages, he couldn¡¯t help but feel a swelling sense of pride. He had made significant progress. He was still a ways off from reaching the third star. He didn¡¯t even have a stage 2 ability yet. But that didn¡¯t make his growth any less impressive. Technically, by peak two-star standards, his abilities were lagging way behind his star development. However, for someone who had been an archhuman for less than 2 years in total, he was a monster. After using Ghosts of the Drowned on that cultist, he finally figured out how to progress his perished affinity abilities. The two abilities weren¡¯t strictly separate¡ªnot entirely. They were more like a single ability with two segments. To use Ghosts of the Drowned, he had to be fully submerged in perished water. And once he used it, both of the shells made progress. They grew excruciatingly slowly, however. Across the board, he had seen excellent growth. Yet, there was something that was bothering him. He was never going to forget his fight against that giant man. The scorpion-tailed woman was one thing. He only won that fight because she was desperate. Against the man, though? He felt like he really should have won that one without the poison. His opponent had been blinded, exhausted, and severely wounded, yet Freddy¡¯s lack of skill let the man claw his way out of a desperate situation. It was way past the time he learned how to fight. But, obviously, he had nobody to teach him here. Sighing, he climbed down the tree and started his daily exercise. He took a dose of the beast steroids. Due to how little he could tolerate at once, he wasn¡¯t even close to running out, but he¡¯d already gone through over a third of it. And it showed. His muscles had grown significantly. As a result, he was just a bit slower, but he remained flexible to ensure it didn¡¯t affect him too badly. He hoisted a massive boulder on his back and started running. He had to get rather creative to push himself without proper equipment. But it mostly came down to doing pushups with a boulder on his back, squats with a boulder above his head, pull-ups with a boulder held tightly between his legs, and so on. He could only use so big a rock without it getting wildly impractical. With time, he had to do more and more reps, and at that point, his training was just a wide range of exotic forms of cardio. But still, he kept it up to, if anything, not lose the habit. Once done with the physical exercise, he walked deeper into the woods and faced a large tree. He focused for around twenty seconds and slowly formed a thin javelin of blood. Then, using Hydraulic Flex, he threw it. He missed the entire tree. The javelin proceeded to fly into the distance at immense speed, where it slammed into a different tree and tore a chunk out of its side, cracking apart into tiny shards of crimson metal on impact. Sighing, he focused on making another javelin. Freddy¡¯s lack of skill was only one of three major problems he had as a fighter. The first of the other two was that his most impactful abilities were essence chuggers. During his fight with the giant, he exhausted over half his reserves before the fight even really got started. The second problem was that he was slow. While the first of the two could be fixed by developing more cost-efficient fighting methods, there was no viable way to ¡°fix¡± the second problem. His body was big, he relied on Abyssal Depths, and his affinities didn¡¯t have the best options for mobility. Unless he gave up on Abyssal Depths and lost a ton of weight, he would always be slow for his rank. Thankfully, that didn¡¯t have to be a problem. He threw another spear, and this time, he hit his target. The weapon embedded deeply into the wood, causing a large crack to run up the tree. He smiled. Just because he couldn¡¯t catch up to his target didn¡¯t mean that he had no way to slow them down. By combining three abilities¡ªBlood Javelin, Accelerate Blood Projectile, and Hydraulic Throw¡ªhe could develop an incredibly powerful ranged option. Blood Javelin and Accelerate Blood Projectile were relatively cheap in terms of essence cost, and Hydraulic Throw was just a more specialized version of Hydraulic Flex, kind of like Frog Leap. He hadn¡¯t yet created any of the abilities. Blood Javelin would be done first, Accelerate Blood Projectile would be finished second, and Hydraulic Throw would take way longer. Hydraulic Throw was probably the most important of the three abilities. If he executed it well, using the ability would make his javelins always go exactly where he wanted them. If he fucked it up, he¡¯d have to break the shell and start from scratch. While working on solving the second problem, he thought about ways to compensate for his absurd essence expenditure. Most archhumans only had their essence pool and stamina to take into consideration. Meanwhile, Freddy technically had 6 different resources at his disposal: essence, physical stamina, his own blood, his enemies¡¯ blood, life force, and RETI. Essence, of course, referred to his pool of essence. Physical stamina was just how long he could endure intense physical combat. His blood was a critical resource for his blood affinity, and his enemies¡¯ blood was essential for Blood Sacrifice. For a long while, he wasn¡¯t sure how Leviathan¡¯s Fury worked, but after dealing with Sophia and her talent, he was confident it consumed life force to trigger. That was also why he couldn¡¯t use it when his body was completely mangled. And finally, there was RETI. RETI, or rather, his reflux essence tolerance index, was a number that showed how much maximum essence he could expend in a single battle for every affinity he had before it started becoming life-threatening. His maximum essence was 199%, but that didn¡¯t include essence from his satellite or recovered essence from kills. Even though they were plentiful, those two sources also had their limit. The RETI for water, for example, was 2.56¡ªmeaning that he could expend 2.56 times his maximum essence in water abilities; in this case, that meant 2.56 times 199¡ª509%. That was quite a lot of leeway. However, it wasn¡¯t the same for all affinities. Not even close. The RETI for blood was only 1.21, meaning that he could only expend 240% of the total essence on his blood affinity before it became dangerous. Usually, such a number wasn¡¯t a problem. Unless an arch had a satellite, expending over 100% of one¡¯s total essence in a battle wasn¡¯t a common occurence. However, there were some affinities with a RETI score lower than 1. The holy affinity had a RETI of 0.73. And Freddy¡¯s perished water affinity, from what he observed, had a RETI of around 0.48¡ªa meager score. After spending that amount, random wounds would start opening all across his body, and no matter how tough he was, he could do nothing to stop them from appearing. But he could heal them, at least. Still, while he could push it a bit further, that wasn¡¯t a good idea. The damage got exponentially worse with every percent over the limit. To minimize his essence problems, he had to utilize his other resources as much as humanly possible. More low-cost abilities that his satellite could cover, more abilities that used his blood reserves, and better control over his martial arts were significant steps forward, but he was seriously starting to entertain relying on his spirit abilities more often. Blood Sacrifice was easy enough to justify, but even Leviathan¡¯s Fury wasn¡¯t as scary as he used to believe. As long as the ability wasn¡¯t blocked, he was likely to, at the very least, have the wounds patched back up by the influx of first-aid-quality healing. He had tried this out a few times against the nebbers, and as expected, he could get away with using the ability semi-casually. He still wanted to avoid it if possible, but it wasn¡¯t the self-destruct button he used to believe it was. Well, not after his two-star upgrade to 1% Lifesteal, at least. He threw another javelin at the tree, and this time, the javelin broke into pieces. Sighing, he stretched a bit and decided to take a break. ¡°I haven¡¯t checked on the passage for a while already¡­¡± he mused. ¡°Might as well go take a look.¡± He prepared a Blood Javelin in advance and even his Gore Knuckles in case he came across a capragorn again. Thankfully, he only spotted some nebbers on his way to the passage, and within 20 minutes, he was at his destination. Taking his customary peek, he almost turned around out of sheer habit, but he froze as he finally noticed it. What looked like the glow of flashlights shone above the canopy of the forest. People had finally arrived. Chapter 97 - Criminal Once he spotted the lights, rather than rush out and introduce himself, the first thing Freddy did instead was turn back around and jog to his hideout. He prepared his ID, putting it in a pocket. He cut off the ring finger on his left arm to remove the Blood Ring from there, then he hid the ring in his storage ring. He cut a small incision in his right calf and inserted the storage ring under his skin. It was soon joined by the two cultists¡¯ rings, as well as Sophia¡¯s, which he had also picked up. Given that the spark of undeath was in the storage ring, he had to cut some grass to heal the wound and seal the rings inside his leg. It was a bit uncomfortable but completely unnoticeable. Well then. He sat down on the grass and took a few deep breaths to calm himself. Naturally, he¡¯d thought through the possibilities and planned what he would do ahead of time. The best case scenario would be if he could wait another few months for the open passage to be renovated and then just sneak out, pretending to be one of the delvers. The only clothing he had was a roughly shorts-shaped piece of tattered cloth protecting his privates, but that wouldn¡¯t be too weird. It wasn¡¯t that uncommon to have one¡¯s equipment melted off by a deviant. But there was one small problem with this ideal scenario¡ªit was unlikely that this passage would remain open. From the destruction to the appearance of the asura to the numerous deaths, he doubted the average solo delver would brave entering this place for a long, long time. Even if people wanted to return, repairing the damage caused by all that happened would take a while. The most likely outcome was that this passage would be turned into a private one, and there was also a non-zero chance that it would be permanently sealed if the risk of the asura appearing again was determined to be too great. In the end, the outcome depended on what exactly happened while Freddy was unconscious. At any rate, unless he wanted to become a permanent resident of the wild interspace, where he would basically be waiting to get eaten by something, he only had one viable way out¡ªhe had to go and ask for help. Would he get arrested and interrogated? Undoubtedly. Thankfully, he had the evidence on his side. He, indeed, wasn¡¯t one of the cultists. Sophia would have been screwed if she was still in one piece, but the only thing tying him to the cult was¡­ well¡­ Sophia. And he could very well just say he had no idea she had ties to the cult. Hopefully, she wouldn¡¯t mind that he threw her under the bus. With that out of the way, he took one last glance in the direction of the lake. The water shimmered peacefully, and for a long moment, he felt a bit nostalgic. The last few months were the most peaceful months he¡¯d had in¡­ ever, actually. If it weren¡¯t for the risks, he¡¯d almost be seriously considering becoming an interspace hermit. He chuckled and got up to his feet. At a slow jog, he made his way through the capragorn realm. As soon as he walked through the passage leading back into the gorel realm, he started screaming. ¡°Hey! Over here! Hey! Help!¡± Minutes later, several scouts appeared from the bushes. ¡°Hands behind your back!¡± a man with a large spear shouted. ¡°On your knees!¡± Freddy complied with both commands. ¡°Oh¡­ Thank God. I thought I would be stuck here forever¡­¡± he said. He tried acting out what he believed would be an appropriate amount of relief. To his surprise, it came very easily. Tears streaked down his cheeks. The man with the spear stepped forward and placed the point of the spear to Freddy¡¯s forehead. ¡°Name yourself and the faction you belong to!¡± ¡°Liam Cuttingsworth, unaffiliated,¡± he answered. ¡°Do you have your ID with you?¡± the man asked. Freddy nodded. ¡°Where is it?¡± ¡°My right pocket.¡± A small tendril of darkness extended from the shaft of the man¡¯s spear and sank into Freddy¡¯s pocket, extracting the ID. The man looked it over and nodded. ¡°You will be restrained and taken into custody. Do not resist.¡± *** Freddy wasn¡¯t tortured. But to say that the interrogation went smoothly would be a blatant lie. He thanked his lucky stars that he had studied Liam¡¯s documents. This whole situation was so massive, apparently, that literally everyone who was even vaguely involved with it had been thoroughly investigated. In many areas, these investigators knew more about Liam than the man had probably known about himself. There were a few odd questions he had to improvise the answers to. Such as why he called himself Liam Johnson in public, why and where he vanished for two years, how he got to the peak of the second star so quickly, why he claimed his talent was related to regeneration when he used to claim that his talent was a generic strength-boost, and why he was involved with Sophia Summer. He bullshitted his way through the questions, sticking close enough to the truth to leave no gaps. The interrogators repeatedly asked the same questions, sometimes slightly rephrased or in reverse, likely to try and catch him in a lie. But his months of preparation weren¡¯t for nothing. He made sure to keep his story straight. He called himself Liam Johnson to distance himself from his real name due to his past, which was very reasonable given the life the man had lived. He vanished for two years because he was focused on training and improving himself so he could escape his life, and he claimed to have reached the second star a long time ago, he just hadn¡¯t reported it until he had to update his ID before travelling to Nova York. The reason why he ¡°claimed to have a strength-boosting talent¡± before was because he intenionally kept his far superior talent a secret to stay out of trouble with his enemies. And finally, he was involved with Sophia Summer because she was hot and he was trying to get with her. He definitely had no idea that she was involved with the cult. They accepted this excuse most readily out of all of them. Well, it was pretty realistic. On the plus side of them thoroughly digging into him, they had already gathered enough evidence to decisively conclude that he had nothing to do with the cult. On the negative side, Liam Cuttingsworth was a fucking criminal, and Freddy was now being prosecuted in his stead. Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. Dealing drugs, breaking and entering, battery, assault, racketeering, tax evasion¡ªeven goddamn sexual assault was on the table. Liam had been one hell of a piece of shit. Thankfully, as a peak two-star archhuman, very different standards and procedures applied to him. The more powerful one got, the more easily they could get away with bending the law. A peak two-star was too valuable to society to get thrown behind bars for just any reason. He wouldn¡¯t call sexual assault ¡°just any reason,¡± but the morbid reality of the situation was that it wasn¡¯t considered serious enough to land him in prison. It was, however, together with all the other crimes he was accused of, enough to get him stuck with a 2.5 million dollar fine. Ouch. After spending three weeks in custody while everything got sorted, he was finally free to go. Exactly 4 months and 28 days passed since he got trapped in that passage. The date was the 28th of October, year 2217. His cuffs were removed, and he was taken out of his cell. Wearing a white T-shirt and grey sweatpants, Freddy stepped out into a particularly chilly but beautiful fall day. It was late afternoon. The distant sun cast its gentle light through a small scattering of colorful clouds, giving them a golden lining and pink body. The air felt rather clean, fresh, and just slightly humid. The streets were scattered with puddles and people moved about, going about their lives. The cool air brushed across his lightly exposed skin, sending chills and goosebumps across his body. His shirt fluttered in the wind, revealing abdominal muscles that looked like a godlike sculptor had chiseled them to perfection. He had no time to appreciate any of this. Instead, he ran to the closest cafe and sprinted into the toilet. There, he conjured a tiny blade of blood on his finger and dug into his leg. After a messy few seconds of digging, he extracted all the storage rings he had shoved into his calf. With trepidation, he pulled Sophia¡¯s head out. For a long moment, he feared the worst. Mold or discolored patches would be a surefire sign that something had gone wrong. As it finally appeared in his grasp, he sighed a small breath of relief. There was no discoloration, and it smelled like nothing at all. It looked like his vigorous decontamination had kept it safe. He used Purify for a few minutes on it just in case before returning it to his ring. After returning his Blood Ring back on his finger and having it bite through his skin and into his bone again, he walked out and sat in the cafe. It was a quaint little place with rustic decor and plush, large seats. The people inside were mostly on the older end¡ªmortal folk in their fifties and sixties. He watched them flip through newspapers, his enhanced perception allowing him to catch a glance at a headline. To his surprise, even so many months later, there was still a small article talking about what happened with the passages. It seemed that the Santorio hub wasn¡¯t the only place impacted by the cultists. His interest piqued, Freddy asked the waiter whether they kept any older copies of newspapers somewhere in the back. They didn¡¯t. But, they did have a large volume collection of numerous articles that had been published on the subject, which was even better. Just as his coffee arrived, so did the massive catalog of articles. It was so damn huge he could kill someone with it. He picked it up and cracked it open. The aromatic cup of coffee tickled his nostrils. Passionately, he took a long, deep gulp and let it wash over his tongue, warming his mouth and throat as he felt the caffeine kick buzzing his brain. ¡°God fucking damn I missed coffee.¡± He placed the cup back on the table and breathed out a sigh of satisfaction. And with that, he started reading. The text came with numerous revelations and surprises. The cult. or rather, the Republic of Prosperity, as it was called, had been completely destroyed. He snorted at the fact that they called themselves a ¡°republic.¡± Once it was discovered that they were the culprits, the empress personally visited them to help disband their faction and arrest the members. Many of them got the death sentence. But the thing he found most surprising was the report of the man behind the cult¡ªit was Nathaniel Kirurg. The man also known as Silver Heart. Freddy thought back to the figure he saw facing the empress. A horrible chill went down his spine as he realized who that person had been. He was one of the first people ever to reach the third star. And what did he do with that power? He made a massive harem and declared himself the ruler of an enormous area. His attempt to establish himself as a leader failed once he was taken down by a group of renowned heroes, including the currently-reigning empress. Their meeting must have been one hell of a reunion. Freddy wondered how that man managed to survive a literal execution. But, well, who knew what exactly happened back then. The empress once more claimed that the man had died in the realm but didn¡¯t disclose how and didn¡¯t take credit for his demise. Yet again, Freddy had to wonder whether the man was actually dead or not. He saw no mentions of the asura, but there was plenty of speculation about the ¡°mysterious power¡± that chased even the empress herself out of the realm. There were so many trash articles trying to squeeze as much juice out of the story as possible. More than one headline was about the private life of a delver speculated to be trapped within the passage. Even he had an article dedicated to him, and it was a good one, too. They talked about his strange, stoic appearance and his sudden rise from a helper for another party to someone who could retrieve as many as¡­ 200 gorels a day? He didn¡¯t quite remember doing that. That wasn¡¯t the only detail that was unbelievably exaggerated and even outright false. For example, claims about his talent and abilities weren¡¯t even in the same ballpark as reality. Apparently, he was an assassin with dark and death affinities and a talent that allowed him to sneak up on opponents unnoticed. They even briefly mentioned Sophia, citing her as his lover. Then, they made up a story about where he came from, followed by an entirely fictional tale about his education in a poorer archhuman academy. It was so absurd that he was starting to doubt the legitimacy of much of the information presented. It took all the willpower he had not to start laughing out loud at the absurd claims. As he made it past that and into the reports about the death count¡­ it stopped being funny. Almost nobody survived the ordeal. Not just in Santorio, either; all the affected areas had high death counts. Right around the time the empress escaped from the realm, a handful of delvers also made their way out. All of them were with the groups the scouts retrieved. Out of the seven survivors, he, surprisingly, recognized three of them. Theodore Osborne, Jacob Santorio¡­ and Beatrice Osborne. While he technically didn¡¯t have anything to do with the woman, he still felt relieved that she had survived. Had she died in a terrorist attack that would be pretty much the worst way to conclude the absolute disaster that happened between them. There was a lot of information about the other passages affected, but most of those were resolved with comparative ease. He slammed the volume closed at around 9 p.m. and headed home. While it was a bit of a waste of money, he had been paying rent for the past five months due to the automatic payment he had set up. At least that meant he had a place to stay. His keys were in his storage ring, and he took them out to unlock the door. The moment he stepped inside, he noticed something strange. He found several pairs of shoes, including female ones. Confused, he made his way towards the room, only to find an absolutely terrified couple screaming and shouting at him. The man threw a bedside lamp, and the woman repeatedly shouted ¡°Intruder! Intruder!¡± Freddy was furious. ¡°What the fuck are you doing in my apartment!?¡± he yelled at the couple, who did not look apologetic at his accusation. ¡°Get the hell out!¡± the man kept yelling. Thoroughly bewildered, Freddy ran outside, ready to kill the landlord if he didn¡¯t explain himself. His angry knocking woke up the owner of the building, who looked quite shocked to see him. The man¡¯s explanation, while still infuriating, made sense. It was unfortunate, but it wasn¡¯t anyone¡¯s fault. Freddy¡¯s bank account was frozen after he was presumed dead, and the monthly payments for the apartment stopped coming in. Truth be told, the owner could have been more prudent and changed the goddamn lock to ensure that something like this didn¡¯t happen. But it was hard to blame the man, given what people thought happened to Freddy. And besides, he could have also visited the landlord beforehand to ensure that nothing was out of the ordinary. At any rate, pushing the issue wasn¡¯t worth it. Once he apologized for the disturbance to both the landlord and the couple, he sighed and went to a hotel instead. He didn¡¯t go for anything fancy. He rented a small room for 300 bucks just to have a place to sleep through the night. That was still quite pricey, though. After a decent night of rest, he quickly got up and rushed outside. From helping bring Sophia back to life, to training, to getting more money¡­ He had a lot of work to do. Chapter 98 -The Kraven Bloodline Madame woke up from a nap with a jolt. She looked around her colorful office, looking for anything unusual. She was still in Pittersville, even five months after sealing her deal with the empress, and her preparations still wouldn¡¯t be done for at least another half a year. Moving headquarters was no easy task, especially not for someone with the mantle of a Lord. Due to all the stress, she habitually took half an hour to clear her mind and stay productive. She had no need for such sleep, but this way, she could at least pretend she got some respite from the endless avalanche of work. With the life affinity and as many medicines as she needed, her sleep should be absolutely perfect. Yet, for whatever reason, she found her sleep becoming increasingly restless over the last few months. Once or twice wouldn¡¯t have been too strange, but she was past believing that it was a coincidence. Closing her eyes, she took a peek into her soul. As always, all she saw was the four beautiful stars, with a large pink ring wrapped around her first. The stars roiled with the pink glitter of life, the orange fury of fire, and the flickering green flames of lifeflame¡ªher unique affinity. Ignoring her stars, her satellite, and her abilities, she cleared her ethercosm and took a deeper look. Scouring every corner, she sought anything that even vaguely stood out. Her half-hour break came to an end, and for a moment, she contemplated leaving and continuing her work. But something about this situation was gnawing at her. She left her ethercosm for a long moment and sighed. She pulled a small, shiny pill out of her storage ring and downed it. It was a soul clarity pill, a costly medicine used to thoroughly examine one¡¯s soul. With it, she should be able to spot even the tiniest of imperfections. It was a huge sacrifice, but she knew better than to ignore her investigative instinct. This time, as soon as she dove into her ethercosm, she immediately spotted what was wrong. The eyes on her projection shot wide open as she saw a tiny, almost imperceptible eyeball staring at her from a deep, dark corner of her soul. Its pupils were square. She immediately flew over to it and tore it into pieces. For the next fifteen minutes, she explored every inch of her soul to ensure nothing else was hanging around. Once she was absolutely sure she was safe, she left. There was no relief to be seen on her face. If anything, a deep scowl had embedded itself into her brow. That thing must have snuck into her soul way back when she had gone to that anomalous passage. To think it had not only slipped past her vigilant guard of her soul but also gone undetected for so damn long¡­ That was terrifying. And few things could make her feel afraid. She guessed that¡ªno, she knew that such a parasite must have invaded the souls of Mark and Nahar, too. And they most likely hadn¡¯t been able to resist the effects of whatever it was trying to do nearly as well as she could. For a long moment, she considered helping them deal with it. It would, no doubt, further indebt them to her, but¡­ What would the point of that be¡­ when the Kraven clan was already on the brink of falling apart? *** A decrepit man sat at his desk and drew on a paper. The only source of illumination was a slit of light that pushed its way through the shades on the window. The rancid smell hung like a fog, blending into the haze already coiled around his mind. People refused to believe him. That dumb motherfucker of a psychologist kept saying it was a symptom of the guilt he felt. He¡¯d show them. He¡¯d show all of them what the thing looked like. He¡¯d prove them wrong. His hand shook as he tried drawing the outline of the man for the umpteenth time. ¡°Fuck!¡± he screamed as he threw the damn paper aside and tore out another page from the notebook. ¡°Fucking shit! Fuck! Fuck!¡± He slammed his fist into the table over and over, cracking the wood in his violent rage. His breathing was ragged, but he did everything he could to calm down and try again. Slowly, one twisted line after another, the image of a man appeared on the page. He was muscular and imposing, with shoulder-length, wet hair flowing down the side of his head and striking, square pupils staring deep into the viewer''s soul. That was what it looked like in his mind. But once he blinked hard enough, the hallucination vanished. In reality, the image he was painting on the paper was more akin to a stickman a toddler drew. He laughed at it. His cackling grew manic as he tugged at his hair, only to pull out another chunk of the once-healthy blonde locks. His alarm beeped away in his pocket, and only around ten minutes after it started, he caught on. ¡°Time to go to work,¡± he muttered into his chin as he went to the toilet to prepare. He walked over a massive pile of shredded paper. Horrific images of twisted figures adorned the pages. Dirty clothes were strewn all across the bedroom, with only his uniform, which the servants had taken care of, remaining even half clean. He reached the knee-deep pile of plastic bottles resting beside the entrance to the room and waded through it, knocking them over with the sound of hollow rattling. Then, he stepped into the toilet. With a shaky hand, he flicked the light switch. Dust and filth had piled on every surface, and the floor was scattered with wet pieces of paper. Usually, the servants would have cleaned this, too, but he refused to let anyone into his home. He couldn¡¯t risk one of them being an impostor. Mark Afronte finally walked up to the mirror. It was filthy, with dried splatters of pus and blood from the acne he popped coating the surface. He grabbed a moist piece of toilet paper, spat on it, and wiped some of the muck off. Underneath, he saw his reflection. His face was gaunt and scattered with pockmarks. Acne littered his skin, part from his horrible diet, part from his stress, part from his utter lack of hygiene. The hair atop his head was thin, with noticeable bald patches. His once healthy, spry physique of chiseled muscle was now far less impressive. He was still shredded, but a lot of the muscle mass was gone, and his body fat was so low that it made his body look almost fake, as if molded out of plastic. He ignored his looks and tentatively washed his face. He wiped it with a towel that reeked of mold. Ten minutes later, he was in his uniform and rushing to his station. As soon as he left the living quarters and stepped into the deployment hall, he boarded the train. He gave his ID to a man waiting inside, who quickly verified it. The ride was calm, with the train moving without even as much as a bump of turbulence to disturb his trip. He leaned his head against the glass, watching the vast structures move by in a dizzying parallax of human achievement. Floating structures, buildings that looked like they should topple over due to the way they bent and twisted in the air, and numerous floating platforms, either hosting parties, meetings, gatherings, lessons, or transporting workers from one area to another filled the space before him, blocking the view of the endless blue sky above, which he could only see through the metal mesh keeping the dome solid. The massive structure of transparent material protected the growing city from outside danger, with numerous archhumans stationed all across its surface to fight off aerial threats. He wasn¡¯t qualified to fight there. His station was outside on the surface, where thousands of people fought off a continuous swarm of monsters rushing to break through their barricade. Once he stepped off the train, he walked through a narrow tunnel and made his way outside. The golden fields stretched far. Vaguely, in the vast distance, he could spot hazy blue outlines of different biomes, including a massive ocean and a range of mountains reaching for the sky. Starhold was built on an elevated plateau. Between the plains below and the concrete platform upon which Mark stood, a sheer cliff of super-reinforced concrete was located. There was a buffer of around 50 meters between the dome and the drop-off to the golden plains below. Upon this buffer, a scattering of buildings had sprung up. They were primarily temporary outposts for medical help and officers standing on guard. All across the concrete cliff, workers hung off harnesses and examined the wall. They used earth-affinity abilities to fix cracks and inspect the building for deeper structural integrity problems. Some also visited and dove into the vents, ensuring nothing was blocking the air flow. While few monsters could climb up that cliff, all of them gave it a shot. That threatened the lives of the men and women working to keep the structure safe¡ªone of whom was Mark¡¯s father. He was a metal worker who worked on reinforcing the support beams. He was deployed in a different section that day, so Mark wouldn¡¯t be seeing him. From his vantage point atop the mind-bogglingly large hundred-meter-tall plateau, the people fighting against the monsters looked like ants scurrying about, with the occasional flash of color sparking against the pitch-black backdrop of the burned fields. In the immediate area around Starhold, the grass was all burned down. The grass was deceptively challenging to scorch, and it grew ridiculously quickly, so it had to be cleared regularly. There were plans to create a massive platform of stone at some point in the future, but things were working out as they were, and whoever was in charge of such stuff clearly didn¡¯t believe it was necessary to waste resources on that. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. Not too far from where he was being deployed, he saw the sewage river flowing out into the distance. It was one of three such bodies of water. All along the border of Starhold, right past the burned areas, were large towers. They looked small from his vantage point, but they were all over 20 meters in height. From those towers, ranged attackers worked to whittle down any monsters that tried to move past them, but naturally, they couldn¡¯t catch all of them. That was where people like Mark came in. ¡°Group A31, step up!¡± He stepped on the elevator and waited to be brought down with 14 other people. While the fighters were deployed in ¡°groups¡± of 15, these weren¡¯t teams. It was their own job to secure parties or alliances if they so wished, but they also had the freedom to simply work alone. The others around him were all complete strangers. Maybe he¡¯d worked with one or two of them before, but he¡¯d been deployed hundreds of times by that point. He couldn¡¯t memorize every face, especially not with how often two-stars changed their appearance. While most of the group chatted away, quickly bundling into groups of six and five, Mark and 3 more people stayed to the side, clearly intending to work alone. When the elevator touched the ground, they left and ran into the clearing. The two groups split up, covering a small area while Mark walked out toward the outer edge. His massive sword slid out of its scabbard, and he held it casually to his side. Thankfully, he got the metal affinity once he ascended. While there was a 90% chance to get it at the second star, it was not guaranteed. As the first monster reached him¡ªa furry bear-wolverine thing with stubby limbs¡ªit leaped at him. Mark swung his sword forward and cleaved the beast in half. Despite the muscle loss he¡¯d experienced, his strength was still impressive. He had primarily worked on Compress Blade as his primary ability for the metal affinity and was already getting close to high stage 2 with progress. It was a simple ability that made a blade more narrow for a fraction of a second. It was a potent ability. It could allow ridiculous feats like cleaving through a whole tree in a single swing if timed properly. It was relatively cost-effective, with only 3% essence consumption, most of which was covered by his two-star satellite. He cleaved one monster after another in half as he proceeded forward with terrifying efficiency. Even in confrontations where a single mistake could cost him an injury, he didn¡¯t hesitate, he didn¡¯t fear or panic. Nothing could compare to the horror of his dreams. And, if he was being honest with himself, the desire to die had already slowly crept into the back of his mind. Maybe it wouldn¡¯t be so bad if he slipped up and lost a head or two one of these days. Sadly, on that day, it wasn¡¯t fated to happen. He¡¯d have to settle for venting his cold, seething fury on the poor creatures driven by instinct. Once his allotted two hours ended, he returned to the elevator. He briefly spotted the female observer tasked with keeping track of their contribution. The woman averted her gaze once she realized he was looking at her. Once he stepped into the elevator, the people inside looked at him strangely. ¡°Hey,¡± a short man in light armor called. ¡°You¡¯re pretty damn impressive.¡± The man eyed Mark¡¯s decrepit appearance with a hint of confusion. ¡°I don¡¯t wanna pry, but you have uh¡­ You have a bit of a situation going on there, huh?¡± The man declared. ¡°You know, if you¡¯re struggling, my family is hiring. I can give you a business card if you¡¯re interested.¡± Mark stared at the man for a long moment. ¡°Can your family secure a spot in the Pearlore Academy once it opens?¡± The man scowled. ¡°That¡¯s a massive ask. Uhm¡­ Maybe, I¡¯m not really versed in¡ª¡± ¡°Then go away.¡± The man blinked. ¡°Right¡­ Well¡­ Sorry for bothering you.¡± Then, as he turned around and stepped away, he whispered, ¡°Prick¡­¡± There was one and only one reason he still worked to make it through every day¡ªthe promise his boss had given him was still on the table, secured by a contract. As long as Kraven still existed as an organization once the academy opened, they were legally required to secure a spot in the academy for his sister. This had been arranged a long time ago, under the supervision of an imperial adjudicator, so it wasn¡¯t something the Kraven could back down on. But he knew better than to believe it would go without hiccups. Even though he believed Nahar, he had no faith in any of those other fucking pieces of shit. ¡°Let them try and pull something¡­¡± he muttered into his chin, attracting a few worried gazes from the other fighters. ¡°I¡¯ll kill them all.¡± He made his way back to the compound and entered their underground headquarters. With each passing day, he came across fewer and fewer members of the Kraven clan. They weren¡¯t getting killed off or anything¡ªhe could only dream¡ªbut they were instead leaving. He couldn¡¯t blame them, he supposed. There was less and less reason to remain affiliated with the clan with every passing day. Those who remained were either diehard maniacs or milking the dying organisation for all they were worth. Those who came across him either snarled or sneered at him. A rainbow of resentful looks was directed his way every single day. They mocked him, teasing him like petulant children. They vented their frustrations on the dead-eyed bitch of the incompetent young master¡ªthe man who was, in their eyes, the one to blame for their continuous failures. Nahar worked so much harder than any of these ungrateful bastards knew. Yet, Mark never rose to their provocations. They didn¡¯t deserve his acknowledgment. Even if every single member of the clan left and went on their way, his deal with Nahar was set in stone. The academy would be open soon, well within the period they still had protection from the empress. Mark walked into Nahar¡¯s office. There, he found the man placing things into a box. Nahar froze once he noticed Mark. ¡°Oh¡­ hey¡­¡± ¡°What the hell are you doing?¡± Mark asked him coldly. ¡°Look,¡± Nahar called, trying to force a smile on his face but producing something more akin to a manic grin. ¡°I just can¡¯t fucking handle it anymore, Mark.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t you fucking dare,¡± Mark spat, taking an aggressive step forward. ¡°Don¡¯t be stupid, Mark,¡± Nahar chided. His expression turned sour as sorrow descended upon him. ¡°I¡­ I had so much faith in this clan. I was naive,¡± he said bitterly. ¡°We can¡¯t have any influence without a Lord. And nobody in the clan is even close to ascending. I thought Uncle Rahal, at least¡­ but¡­ it¡¯s not fated to happen.¡± Mark stood frozen, fearing the answer to the question burning a hole in his throat. ¡°Relax,¡± Nahar said as he shot him a sour smile. ¡°My uncle will take over once I¡¯m gone, and you¡¯ll still get your end of the deal.¡± Nahar lifted the box and started walking. ¡°I really hope we can stay in touch. But¡­ yeah¡­ I¡¯m looking forward to finally becoming a free man. Perhaps you could join me?¡± ¡°What if they try to pull something?¡± Nahar froze. ¡°Look¡­¡± ¡°Don¡¯t.¡± Mark looked the man deep in the eye. ¡°You know damn well Rahal will fight for every shred of power he can get once he becomes the leader.¡± ¡°Look,¡± Nahar stated more firmly. ¡°Can I be honest with you¡­ just for a second?¡± The two men stood in silence for a long moment before Nahar decided to continue. ¡°I don¡¯t think you need this, Mark.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not about me, it¡¯s about my¡ª¡± ¡°Well your family doesn¡¯t need it either!¡± Nahar spat. ¡°Look. You can just¡­ leave. Go back to New Earth. Settle somewhere. Get a fucking wife, dude, and let your sister live a normal life.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not that simple¡­¡± ¡°You¡¯re obsessed, Mark.¡± ¡°You have no goddamn idea how dangerous it is to be anywhere but at the top,¡± Mark asserted. Nahar scowled. ¡°Yes, I do, Mark. I¡¯ve learned my lesson.¡± Mark couldn¡¯t stop himself from laughing at that. ¡°Oh really? You think you know anything? You think playing the patriarch of a dying clan is enough to know what it¡¯s like to be a fucking serf!? If a three-star¡ªif you wanted to force yourself on my sister, you think I could do anything to stop you!?¡± he screamed. ¡°You think the adjudicators would punish you!? Even if you slaughtered my whole family, you¡¯d get a slap on the wrist!¡± ¡°Come on¡­¡± ¡°No. You will never understand. As long as you live, you won¡¯t get what I¡¯m trying to say until you see it yourself. I have my contract¡ªI don¡¯t need you,¡± he declared. ¡°Goodbye, Nahar.¡± He saluted his old boss and marched out of the room. Later that day, Nahar held his parting speech before the remaining members of the Kraven. Before he could get three sentences in, he was shouted off the stage and chased outside. Mark watched the whole thing happen with cold eyes. Then, slowly, like a hero foretold in legend, Rahal got up and walked up on the stage. The cheering was deafening. His coronation as the clan patriarch started with a speech on integrity. He reminded everyone of the clan¡¯s history and the power they held before¡ªthe potential they still had within them. He directed a speech at the diehards who decided to stay behind, focusing on their bloodline and loyalty, promising great rewards and status to those who still believed in their principles. He painted the purging of the unloyal like a blessing; with the ¡°unfaithful¡± being expunged, he promised a stronger, more unified clan than ever before. And then, once he buttered them up enough to bake a fucking cake between their asscheeks, he started talking about his future plans. They were pretty radical. The man planned to effectively pull out of Starhold. They would sell off whatever stakes they still had left and reestablish themselves in Pittersville. He hit the audience pretty hard with all the bad news, only to then immediately go into a calculated justification for his actions. It was a pretty reasonable plan. With how much power they had lost, remaining here was clearly not a viable option. They would get chipped away into nothing until they were forced to disband. Clearly, Starhold was above them as they were at the moment. But Pitterville, their old headquarters, wasn¡¯t a bad place to return to. With all the superpowers focusing on Starhold, traffic had to go through the bustling metropolis. Their status was much more solid there, and nobody had the power or the incentive to chase them out, even without a Lord in their midst. They just had to bide their time until a four-star rose from their ranks again, and then they would return to chasing higher peaks. Frankly, Mark didn¡¯t care what they did. He wouldn¡¯t mind returning to Pittersville as long as his sister was in the academy. And if he was being honest, Rahal was putting forth a pretty solid plan. He heard people whispering that Nahar could never show such leadership and that the boy had doomed them from the start. It was easy enough to say that now, given that all the people who had been staunchly against such a retreat had left the clan. His attention was snapped back to reality as he heard Rahal say something strange. ¡°¡­ to that end, I believe it would be prudent to disband Kraven Industries and liquidate the assets.¡± He immediately shot up to his feet and raised his hand. Murmurs of discontentment echoed all around him, but Rahal waved the people down as he pointed at Mark. ¡°Greetings, Mr. Afronte. I believe you have a question for me.¡± ¡°Yes, sir.¡± Mark anxiously fixed his uniform cap as he straightened his back. ¡°I have a contract signed with Kraven Industries. What will happen with that contract once the company is disbanded?¡± ¡°That is an excellent question, young man.¡± A cruel smile flashed on the man¡¯s lips for a brief moment. ¡°Once the company is disbanded, the contractual obligations, such as your deal¡­ will be passed on to the legal owner of the company.¡± For half a moment, Mark was almost relieved. Then, he realized it. Nahar was the owner of the company. He was the one who had to deliver on the contract. Naturally, he could also choose not to disband the company as it was his, but pretty much everything that the company owned was simply an ¡°investment¡± from the clan members, who were the actual owners of practically everything. Except for the obligations. Obligations that Nahar was powerless to fulfill. Mark found himself staring into the man¡¯s striking blue eyes. Within them, he saw¡­ triumph. That was why the man passed the leadership unto Nahar so easily. From the very beginning, he had planned to do this exact thing. Mark¡¯s lips twitched and pulled apart into a nasty grimace. ¡°You fucking monster¡­¡± Rahal made a hand gesture, and in the blink of an eye, two three-star elders held Mark by his arms as they dragged him away. He kicked, snarling and screaming. ¡°I¡¯m going to fucking kill all of you! Let me go! You fucking bastards! You¡¯re all dead!¡± Just as he was being dragged through the doors, he watched Rahal¡¯s lips twist into a wicked smile as he waved and mouthed, ¡°Say hi to my nephew.¡± Surprise! lolololol If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Chapter 99 - He Will Die Freddy walked into his newly rented apartment and placed two large glass containers and a bag of groceries on the tiny table in the room. The new place he was renting was considerably smaller than the former apartment. It was only a single room with a bed in the middle and a table next to a sink, but it was still thrice as large as the coffin room he had grown up in. While he was itching to finally get his own damn apartment, he didn¡¯t mind waiting a bit longer. He had a massive debt to pay off, so, for the time being, until he started making considerably more money than he needed for the monthly payments, he was being frugal. As a two-star, he wouldn¡¯t pay the fine off a couple hundred dollars at a time. No, he had to pay nearly fifty thousand dollars a month. He still had quite a bit of money stashed away in his savings, but given that he wasn¡¯t back to delving yet, he was being patient. Also, admittedly, there was something comforting about watching his spending. Maybe it was just an old habit. There was no fridge in the room, nor was there any other surface to make food. His food stash¡ªdry bread and miscellaneous multivitamins¡ªwas tucked in large paper bags in the corner of the room. He arranged some of the ingredients he had gathered on the table and poured water into the first pitcher. Slowly, one after another, he poured in ingredients, mainly quite cheap stuff he got from the grocery store, like salt and sugar. On top of that, he was adding more expensive materials, including a viscous, vibrant blue preservative that came in a small glass bottle. For the last week, ever since he¡¯d been released from jail, he¡¯d been doing only two things¡ªplanning where he was going to work next and digging through obscure books for any records on how to preserve the life of someone who had been reduced to a mere head. It didn¡¯t take long to become apparent that healing Sophia wouldn¡¯t be easy or cheap. It would be a breeze if he could somehow wake her up, but given her state, that wasn¡¯t a possibility. At the very least, she wasn¡¯t conscious. It was pretty intimidating seeing how differently death came to those who were undead. At times, he even felt slightly regretful that he had decided to go down this path. Everyone died eventually. And given that he would never die of old age, his death could only be excruciating. Still, he had made his choice. No matter how unpleasant, it was a massive source of power. Sophia was proof of that. But even in this state, she couldn¡¯t survive forever. Thus, he needed a safer way to keep her alive until he found a permanent solution. Finding out how to do that, however, was no easy task. He had thought he could just ask the local librarians or bookstore owners for advice, but most had only pointed him to old medical records on obscure cases. The problem was that most organizations oriented around death affinity had their own unique and¡ªsurprise, surprise¡ªsecret ways of keeping their members alive. It took a long, grueling week of digging through one record after another and swapping through several libraries until he finally found what he was looking for. Once he finally added all the ingredients, he took out a large metal spoon and stirred them for about a minute. Then, he took Sophia¡¯s head out of his storage ring, gently lowered it into the empty container, and slowly poured the solution over her until she was fully submerged. Once done, he attached the airtight cap to the container and put it into the storage ring. Just like that, he had bought himself roughly a year to save her. Undead cells didn¡¯t die on their own the way living cells did. Once exhausted, they went into a stasis, resuming their work after being supplied with more energy. But they, just as everything else, were subject to gradual deterioration. Die, they might not¡ªbut fall apart, they would, indeed. A year from then would be around the time when enough of her brain matter deteriorated to irreversibly lose a part of who she was as a person. Even if resurrected after that point, she would never be the same Sophia again. Freddy wouldn¡¯t give up even after half a decade, but that didn¡¯t mean there was no sense of urgency. He had planned to decompress for a day but settled for beating up the spark of undeath instead. Rest would come after he found regular work again. Given that it was noon, he had his lunch first. He wolfed down several stale and dry loaves of bread, each dipped in water to soften them up, and then swallowed a large handful of multivitamins. While eating like this was objectively gross, he had to admit that he kind of enjoyed it in a twisted way. There was a bizarre feeling of power in knowing that he could eat worse than some poor farmer¡¯s chickens and still be healthier than the overwhelming majority of the population. Washing his hands, he straightened his white short-sleeve T-shirt and headed outside. It was an inordinately cold day. The sky above was clouded, but it didn¡¯t look like it would rain. The city was full of people rushing about their business, and the street was full of cars. Not carriages¡ªcars. In fact, during his long absence from society, Freddy had missed out on several critical breakthroughs in technology. Starhold had been quite productive regarding resources and development, so cars with an internal engine were becoming increasingly common. So much so, in fact, that drake-pulled carriages had been declared illegal in large cities due to the traffic congestion and pollution they were causing. Naturally, many people were super pissed about this as they still couldn¡¯t afford a car, but anyone who needed transportation for business had been given a generous subsidy, which dulled the blow. Freddy brought his idle daydreaming back on track as he refocused. As expected, the Santorio hub was closed indefinitely after the incident. That left only three other public passages¡ªor so he thought. Once Santorio was out of the equation, a handful of brand-new public passages opened to compete for the role the Santorio hub used to play. While the three already-established hubs were undoubtedly a safer choice, Freddy had already visited these places, and he wasn¡¯t a big fan, to say the least. The first was an anomaly¡ªthe inside of the realm was a mountainous area where the undead kept appearing out of nowhere. His talent, unsurprisingly, didn¡¯t work on piles of walking bones and rotting flesh. Being unable to rely on his talent in a tight spot was an unnecessary risk. The second was a scorching hot desert. Usually, this would be great for a water-affinity arch like himself because he was naturally more resistant to dehydration, but the lack of vegetation was somewhat of a turn-off. Again, it was not a huge problem, given the fleshy blob in his ring, but it wasn¡¯t optimal. The third was¡­ well, it really wasn¡¯t a bad option on the surface. A neat, forested area with all sorts of animalistic monsters inside. The issue was with the owner¡ªafter the terrorist attack, he had become quite paranoid and had thus set up background checks on anyone who requested entry, making the passage only quasi-public. Although Freddy was entirely innocent, and was already investigated, he wasn¡¯t allowed entry because of his involvement with the terrorist incident. Thus, on that day, he was on a journey. He had four destinations in mind. It was time to see what Nova York had to offer. *** Theodore was out on a walk in the streets. A beige scarf fluttered in the frigid wind, bouncing across his thick, black coat. He brought a cigarette to his lips and took a deep pull, exhaling slowly. His life had been going rather well during the previous few months. He got a new job in a mercenary crew. He¡¯d left the life of freelance delving behind him and now worked exclusively by contract. His talent made him quite valuable for exploring new passage routes and scouting inside established realms. Once finished with his cigarette, he extinguished it and threw it in a nearby bin. Walking another block, he turned and entered a skyscraper. If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. Within a minute, he was in his apartment on the 17th floor. As soon as he opened the door, a woman rushed at him and hugged him tightly. ¡°You¡¯re back¡­¡± Beatrice whispered. He could feel her rapidly beating heart. Her relief that he was back home was as palpable as the tightness of her grip around his waist. After he gave her a quick kiss on the forehead, she detached from him and looked up with shining eyes. ¡°I made you dinner. Oh, but we ran out of parmesan¡­¡± she said, her eyes drifting to the side. ¡°No worries,¡± he said, putting his coat back on, ¡°I¡¯ll hop down to the store and get some.¡± He walked back outside. Beatrice hadn¡¯t been doing all that well after the whole ordeal. She hadn¡¯t left their apartment for months. Frankly, Theodore preferred it this way. Not only did she not give a shit what he did or who he spent time with, but she was also willing to forgive¡­ anything¡­ as long as he didn¡¯t abandon her. She had been fighting tooth and nail to keep him happy. He could, of course, bring over a therapist to help her move past the trauma, but¡­ nah. Where was the fun in that? The only real downside was that she sometimes woke up screaming in the middle of the night, but that was no big deal. She had recently started putting a gag on her mouth before going to bed. Besides, Theodore rarely spent the night sleeping at home these days. The closest store was just outside the building. As soon as Theodore walked out the front door, he turned, and¡ª Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a large man in a white shirt turning left down the street. Within a second, the man was gone behind a building. Theodore froze. His eyes were his greatest weapon. He was confident that he wasn¡¯t imagining it. But still, he rushed forward just to confirm it. Cautiously, he glanced around the corner and watched the broad back of Liam John¡ªno, Liam Cuttingsworth¡ªas the man made his way down the street. ¡°What in the¡­?¡± Theodore couldn¡¯t believe it. The man was still alive? They must have found him when they cracked the seal a few weeks ago, but even then¡­ Jacob had been absolutely positive that the man was guilty of conspiring with the cultists. It looked like he had been wrong. Theodore ducked behind the cover with a huge scowl on his face. Back when he saw the man in the passage, right before the empress arrived, Theodore had noticed something weird. The man¡¯s physique had been substantially different than just a few weeks prior. Not just a little, either¡ªit was as if his bones had been reformed and muscles rebalanced. And somehow, he¡¯d only grown bigger since then. Theodore had noticed throughout their time working together that Liam¡¯s body grew at a rather absurd speed. Back then, the man had done nothing impossible. Some steroids and a bit of exercise would do the job. This was different. This was caused by some sort of outside influence. But what? His talent? Did that woman he was with do that to him? If so, how? Given that the man¡¯s weak points were even more muted than they were the last time Theodore saw him, it definitely wasn¡¯t a purely cosmetic effect. Yet, frighteningly enough, that wasn¡¯t even the most unusual part. The man was a peak two-star. ¡°Phew¡­¡± Theodore breathed out, leaning against the wall. Liam was a bizarre individual. He¡¯d already known that much. While his circumstances were intriguing, Theodore had no real reason to care about the man. Other than¡ª ¡°Whatever,¡± he muttered, turning back and walking to the store. He bought the parmesan. He ate his dinner. After eating, he sat down in the living room and watched a movie with Beatrice by his side. Yet, throughout the film, he kept spacing out. His heartbeat was elevated. Beatrice¡¯s touch, where she leaned on his shoulder, felt uncomfortable and¡­ dirty. ¡°Hey,¡± he said, pushing her away and getting up. ¡°I¡¯m going out.¡± His wife looked incredibly disappointed that he wouldn¡¯t stay to finish the movie. She looked down for a moment before asking, ¡°Are you going to be back tonight?¡± ¡°Yeah, yeah¡­ Yeah,¡± he said, waving her off. ¡°I¡¯m just gonna go¡­ uh¡­ see a friend.¡± Within 20 minutes, Theodore was knocking on someone¡¯s door. It took a long minute, but eventually, the doors cracked open. ¡°Oh, hey!¡± Jacob greeted him as he opened the door. ¡°What brought you here?¡± Jacob had changed quite a bit in the last half a year. The man¡¯s face looked gaunt, and he¡¯d lost much of his muscle mass. He was pale. Deep eye bags hung under his eyes. ¡°Hey there, man!¡± Theodore greeted him, offering him a fist bump. ¡°Haven¡¯t seen you in a while.¡± ¡°Yeah¡­ Uh¡­ You wanna come in?¡± Jacob offered. ¡°Sure. I have to talk to you about something.¡± The men sat down in the massive, highly decorated living room. They chatted idly for a few minutes while a maid brought them coffee. The woman appeared a bit jittery, and Jacob smacked her ass as soon as she turned around. She yelped. ¡°New girl?¡± Theodore asked, smirking at him. ¡°Yeah, she¡¯s a bit of a shy one.¡± Jacob chuckled as he wiggled his eyebrows. ¡°You dog.¡± Theodore shook his head as he took a sip of the coffee. It was slightly bitter. ¡°Hey, I have to talk to you about something.¡± Jacob quirked an eyebrow as he raised a cup to his lips. ¡°What is it?¡± ¡°I¡­ I saw Liam Cuttingsworth on the street today.¡± Jacob¡¯s arm froze. He put the coffee back down as he turned to face Theodore. ¡°That¡¯s not funny.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not joking.¡± Theodore declared. ¡°Did you not know that they found him alive?¡± ¡°My old man didn¡¯t tell me shit!¡± The man spat on the ground. ¡°What the fuck!?¡± he exclaimed with a scowl. ¡°Are they insane!? That girl with him was a fucking cultist, I know what I saw!¡± He got a bit heated. He caught himself, leaning back on the couch as he chewed on his knuckles. ¡°There¡¯s no way he¡¯s clean.¡± ¡°Yet, he¡¯s a free man,¡± Theodore declared. ¡°You know damn well how strict the adjudicators are. If the dude had farted too loudly at any point in the last decade, they¡¯d know.¡± ¡°They have no idea what happened in the passage,¡± Jacob said. ¡°Other than the handful of us who lived, there are no witnesses. He could have been in there killing people the whole time, and they wouldn¡¯t know shit.¡± ¡°Well, the cult is gone,¡± Theodore said. ¡°Without hard evidence, they can¡¯t put a peak two-star behind bars.¡± Jacob froze. ¡°Wait¡­ what¡­?¡± ¡°You heard me.¡± Theodore nodded gravely. ¡°Peak fucking two-star. No signs of injuries on him, either. Not only that. Remember how I told you that his body is different now? I wasn¡¯t just imagining it. It was like his head was transplanted on another man¡¯s body, it''s ridiculous!¡± Jacob snarled at that. ¡°You know¡­ you might think I¡¯m crazy, but I have a theory.¡± Theodore took another sip of coffee and adopted a severe expression. ¡°A few weeks ago, they publicly stated that Silver Heart was found dead within the realm.¡± Jacob nodded, remaining silent and attentive. ¡°Well¡­ You know how they said that Silver Heart was executed all that time ago? And then he¡­ magically came back to life all this time later?¡± Jacob snapped his head in Theodore¡¯s direction. ¡°You don¡¯t think¡­?¡± ¡°Hey, you never know¡­¡± Theodore shrugged, raising his hands. ¡°If the man can transfer his consciousness from one body to another, this whole thing would make much more sense.¡± Jacob smashed a fist into the table and rushed to his feet. ¡°Fuck!¡± he shouted, pulling at his thinning golden hair as he paced in circles. ¡°I have to go talk to my father.¡± The man stormed out of the room. ¡°Wait for me here,¡± he said, grabbing a jacket and putting his boots on. Then, he rushed outside. Theodore obeyed, leaning back and meditating while he waited. Around half an hour later, Jacob walked back into the apartment. He slowly walked back to the couch and sat next to Theodore. ¡°And?¡± Theodore prodded. ¡°There was a clear indication that Silver Heart¡¯s soul was destroyed,¡± Jacob said. ¡°That¡¯s about as solid as evidence gets, I suppose.¡± ¡°Is it really?¡± Theodore tapped on his chin. ¡°Even if his soul is gone, can they prove that the man didn¡¯t transfer his consciousness?¡± ¡°Without a soul?¡± Jacob probed. ¡°I don¡¯t see a point in doing that.¡± ¡°Who knows what that psychopath was capable of?¡± Jacob scowled. Theodore pushed. ¡°Look, even if we¡¯re wrong, I think it¡¯s safe to say that that man must have had some ties with the cult. They can¡¯t prove anything, and given that the cult is already gone, they let him go.¡± Jacob¡¯s scowl deepened. Theodore pushed harder. ¡°They¡¯re not going to do anything about him. Think about that. Remember what we lived through back there. That bastard was almost definitely doing the same thing to others in the passage. And he¡¯s just going to walk away. Free as a motherfucking bird.¡± Jacob visibly bit the inside of his cheek. ¡°I don¡¯t know about you, but I can¡¯t ignore that.¡± Jacob clenched his fists. ¡°I think you know what we should do, right? Jacob slowly nodded. ¡°Yeah¡­ We can¡¯t just let that bastard walk away.¡± Theodore smiled. The two discussed some plans and threw ideas around for a while. Eventually, after a few drinks, their conversation veered way off course. They agreed to discuss things further the next day, and for the time being, Theodore went home. By the time he was back, his wife was already sleeping soundly in bed. He saw her helpless, half-naked body on the bed and slowly approached it. Looking at her from above, she looked so¡­ small. So fragile. Like he could cup her whole body in his two hands. He slowly lowered himself and sat on the bed next to her. He carefully moved her hair out of her face to get a better look at her. He chuckled. It was surprising that he would do something like this. He thought himself more rational than that. But while he was willing to believe that that man was entirely out of his wife¡¯s mind¡­ He would never forget about him. He could never put that behind them. He could never come to terms with it. ¡°I can forgive you, you little fucking whore,¡± he whispered as he bent over, gave her a kiss on her cheek, and watched her smile in her sleep. ¡°But he will die.¡± Chapter 100 - Dont Worry About the Eyes For a while already, a Mark-shaped hole was present at every family meal at the Afronte dinner table. Throughout their time living in Starhold, Mark had been growing busier and busier with every passing day, barely finding the time for his family even though they lived pretty close to one another. But, at the very least, he never let a week pass without visiting. Now, it¡¯s been almost two full weeks without any of them seeing him. And they¡¯d had enough. As soon as Mark¡¯s father walked into the room and smelled the food, he called, ¡°Did Mark show up?¡± ¡°No, honey!¡± his wife yelled back. ¡°I¡¯ve sent him a message, though! Maybe today he¡¯ll¡ª¡± ¡°Come,¡± the man called. ¡°Call Sarah, too.¡± ¡°What?¡± the wife yelled. A second later, she stormed into the hallway with a scowl, wiping her still-wet hands on a small kitchen towel. ¡°Where are we going? The dinner will be done in¡ª¡± ¡°Call Sarah,¡± he interrupted her. ¡°We¡¯ve given Mark plenty of freedom, but I think it¡¯s high time we check in on him and see what¡¯s happening.¡± His wife looked reluctant at that. Her hands slowed as she gripped the towel and lowered her head. ¡°But I don¡¯t want to force him¡­¡± ¡°Well I do,¡± he asserted. ¡°Sarah!¡± he shouted. A second later, the blonde teenage girl popped her head out of her room. ¡°Huh!?¡± she yelled while pulling earbuds out of her ears. ¡°Did someone call me?¡± ¡°Yes, dear. Put your shoes on. We¡¯re going to visit your brother.¡± Less than five minutes later, they were all standing right outside Mark¡¯s room. They rang the bell. They waited patiently for a long few minutes, but nobody answered. ¡°Maybe he¡¯s out?¡± Sarah proposed. Instead of retreating, her father pulled out the spare key he had of Mark¡¯s room. ¡°Honey!¡± his wife called. ¡°Don¡¯t you think that¡¯s going a bit far? We promised not to intrude on his privacy¡­¡± ¡°I don¡¯t care anymore,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m done waiting for the stars to line up. We¡¯ll have our damn family dinner even if I have to drag him home by the ear!¡± His wife looked like she wanted to protest that but kept her mouth shut. All of them wanted the same thing, even if they weren¡¯t comfortable with the approach. The man inserted the key into the hole and tried turning it. It was stuck. His wife¡¯s eyebrows shot up. ¡°Did he change the lock without telling us¡­?¡± ¡°No,¡± the man said, ¡°There¡¯s a damn key on the other side.¡± He pulled the key out and placed a palm against the lock. The man focused, exerting his metal affinity, and broke the lock. ¡°Dear!¡± his wife yelled. ¡°What about the¡ª¡± As expected, the alarm was triggered. ¡°He can sue us if he wants.¡± He pushed the door open. Piles upon piles of filthy dishes were lined up in the kitchen. Trash and dirty clothes were everywhere throughout the living room. The place looked like it hadn¡¯t been cleaned in forever. ¡°How horrible¡­!¡± the wife exclaimed, putting a hand to her mouth. ¡°What on Earth are the maids doing!? This is awful! Why didn¡¯t he¡­?¡± ¡°Mark!¡± the father shouted. ¡°Mark! Are you in!?¡± The only answer he got was the alarm, which was still blaring in the background. ¡°I don¡¯t like this¡­¡± He rushed toward the room and tried opening the door. It was also locked. ¡°Mark!¡± he shouted and knocked. ¡°Are you inside!?¡± Nobody answered. ¡°Shit¡­¡± the man cursed as he kicked the door in with a Tectonic Strike. The sound of his wife and daughter screaming behind him reached him just a moment before he saw the sight. In the middle of the filthiest, messiest room he¡¯d ever seen in his life, his son was hanging by his neck, dressed in nothing but a white undershirt and boxers, with blood running down his legs from his severed wrists. ¡°Mark!¡± he shouted. ¡°Oh, dear God, Mark, what did you do to yourself!?¡± he rushed and pulled his son off the rope. ¡°Mark!¡± He slapped his cheeks. He pressed his fingers to Mark¡¯s neck, but before he could feel whether there was still a pulse, a voice came from behind them. ¡°Hands up!¡± a guard shouted, pointing a crossbow at them. As soon as the man realized what he was looking at, he lowered the weapon and lifted a communication crystal to his mouth. ¡°Send medical help immediately!¡± *** Mark¡¯s eyes slowly cracked open. He was greeted by a blurry, pearly white sight. ¡°Am I dead¡­?¡± he whispered through cracked lips. ¡°Mark!¡± someone¡¯s muffled voice called. ¡°Mark, can you hear me!?¡± ¡°Ugh¡­¡± he groaned as he tried moving. His head was pounding, and his whole body felt weak. But he was, indeed, still alive. He closed his eyes as he realized his situation. The blurry white was the sterile shade of a hospital ceiling. His forearms had been stitched back together, and the rope had been cut. He had been saved. Well¡­ interrupted. Once he opened his eyes again, the image was a lot clearer. They were in the emergency room. He saw his mother¡¯s worried face looking down on him, with his father and sister standing behind her. He couldn¡¯t stop himself from chuckling. ¡°Hey there, guys¡­ Haven¡¯t seen you in a while.¡± His mother burst into tears as she buried her head in his chest. She wept and sobbed, clearly trying and failing to say something. His father¡¯s expression was steely, and his eyes demanded an explanation. Sarah¡­ she just looked afraid. Was he a coward for what he¡¯d done? Obviously. But what other choice did he have? After everything he¡¯d done, he still had to look his family members in the face and tell them that they¡¯d lost everything. His sister had missed out on education¡ªno two ways around it. Any academy that would accept her with her background and age was either far too expensive or far too inadequate. Even though she¡¯d already accepted a combat talent, she would never be an elite. She would never find a secure position. And neither would he. Both of them were living on borrowed time until early retirement or¡­ death caught up with them. And that was if their lack of protection didn¡¯t result in an even worse fate for everyone involved. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. ¡°Why¡­?¡± his mother muttered. ¡°Why!? Why would you do that!?¡± she screamed. ¡°Does our love mean nothing to you!? What happened that would push you to such a decision!? What!?¡± She looked up at him, mouth trembling as she slowly whispered, ¡°What happened, Mark¡­?¡± Bitter. He felt bitter. Bile slowly moved up his throat, and he didn¡¯t even bother swallowing it. ¡°You want to know what happened?¡± Anger bubbled in his chest. ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll tell you what happened: Kraven Industries is disbanding. Those bastards used a legal loophole to scam us of what was promised to us¡ªSarah will never go to the academy.¡± His mother and sister paled at that. Yet, his father looked angry. ¡°How could you!?¡± he shouted. ¡°For this!? Are you seriously that stupid!? Something like that was enough to push you to¡­ to¡­ to try and kill yourself!? I can¡¯t believe that you¡¯d act like such a coward!¡± ¡°I killed a man to get this opportunity!¡± Mark spat out before he could think twice about what he was saying. At that moment, he felt like he had nothing to lose. So he told them. He told them the fate of Freddy Stern. The deal between him and the Kraven. The bullshit story about the ¡°lucky opportunity¡± he stumbled upon when he entered the clinic to get his arm amputated fell apart as the horror of reality settled. His sister stared at him with open eyes, her hands covering her mouth. A moment later, she sprinted out of the emergency room. His father looked like he wanted to say something, but he bit his lip and followed after Sarah. Despair clouded his mother¡¯s face, but she forced herself to swallow it. ¡°They need some time to process it. Don¡¯t be mad at them.¡± He wasn¡¯t angry at them. He was sad. His breathing hastened as he teared up, regret washing over him as a sob escaped his lips. ¡°They hate me,¡± he declared. ¡°They don¡¯t hate you!¡± his mother insisted, trying to cup his face to turn his head and meet his eyes, but he refused, pushing her arm away and shaking his head. ¡°I sold my soul for us, Mum,¡± he declared with such palpable sadness that it looked like it crushed his mother¡¯s heart. ¡°And yet we still have nothing.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t be silly¡­¡± she tried, clearly forcing herself. ¡°You¡¯re still alive,¡± she reminded him. ¡°I don¡¯t care what you did. Demon or angel, you¡¯ll forever be my son. I will always love you, Mark.¡± She grabbed his hand and brought her forehead to it. ¡°Do you think that man would forgive you if you disappeared?¡± ¡°A monster wears his skin, mum. I will never be forgiven.¡± ¡°It¡­ what!?¡± his mother asked with a scowl, but he turned away. ¡°Nothing,¡± he said. ¡°I need some time alone.¡± ¡°No,¡± his mother denied. ¡°I¡¯m not going to give it to you. I¡¯m staying.¡± ¡°Mom, please¡­¡± ¡°No! You¡¯re coming with me.¡± As soon as Mark¡¯s condition was full stabilized, he was taken to his family¡¯s residence. They had three guest rooms, and before long, one of them was his. There, he lay in the bed, feeling exhausted. He¡¯d lost a lot of blood. But still, no matter how tired he felt, he couldn¡¯t force himself to fall asleep. He knew what was waiting for him there. They tied him to the bed so he wouldn¡¯t hurt himself again until a psychologist could declare his mental condition as stable. That evening, his mother brought him his favorite meal¡ªpizza. Just a simple pepperoni pizza. Just the way he liked it back when he was little. His apetite was nonexistent, but his mother forced him to have a few slices. Before he realized it, he ate the whole thing. Then, his mother brought him some tea. As soon as he saw the pink shade, he scowled. It was milky pink alia. He hated this tea. People drank it a bit too casually as far as he was concerned. It was a pretty damn potent drug. He despised the feeling of losing control over himself, be it from alcohol or any other substance. ¡°Take it,¡± his mother offered. ¡°I know you don¡¯t like it, but you need to get some rest.¡± There was no rest for the wicked. But instead of saying anything or throwing a tantrum, he took the tea and downed it in one gulp. ¡°Thank you, Mum,¡± he said, smiling at her. ¡°I love you.¡± She smiled back at him. After giving him a gentle kiss on the forehead, she left the room and turned the lights off. Before long, the tea kicked in. Every bit of stress left his body within minutes. For as long as he could, he tried to remain awake. He didn¡¯t last long. Yet again, he found himself in those cursed woods, and once more, the small pond bubbled as a figure crawled out of it. The image of a half-rotting body covered in muck and filth stood tall, shooting him a fierce, mocking grin. It wore Freddy¡¯s face. ¡°Well, well, well¡­¡± it cackled at him. ¡°What do we have here?¡± it mocked him. ¡°Even after putting me through hell, you still didn¡¯t get anything. And you lost so, so much. ¡°Your father, oh those beautiful eyes! The hatred and scorn bubbling, held back only by the fact that you¡¯d hang yourself again if he is too harsh.¡± It laughed. ¡°And your sister? Kiss her innocence goodbye. Even worse, she¡¯d ask herself why she couldn¡¯t at least get a ticket to the academy given what you did¡ªand she¡¯d hate herself for it.¡± ¡°What do you want?¡± Mark asked, feeling no patience for this creature¡¯s mockery. ¡°If you¡¯re just going to echo my thoughts to me, you might as well wrap it up and let me rest.¡± ¡°What do I want?¡± it asked, cackling vociferously. Then, it suddenly grew deathly serious. ¡°I thought you¡¯d never ask.¡± Suddenly, it slithered forward, melting into the muck as it wrapped around him and placed its hands on his shoulders. It started massaging him. It slowly whispered into his ear, ¡°Tell me¡­ Do you want to get revenge?¡± Mark bit his lip. ¡°On who?¡± ¡°You know who.¡± Mark¡¯s bravado deflated slightly upon hearing those words. ¡°Of course I do. If I had the power to do it, I¡¯d slaughter every single one of them.¡± ¡°I can give you that power.¡± Mark snorted. ¡°How? By taking my body over?¡± He sneered. ¡°I know what you¡¯re after, you foul being. I¡¯d rather kill myself than let that happen.¡± ¡°You¡¯re wrong,¡± it said, unwrapping itself and slithering behind a nearby tree. Two glowing eyes peeked behind the wood, almost shyly. ¡°Your former boss was hiding a secret from you.¡± It suddenly shifted and slithered behind another tree in the blink of an eye. ¡°You see, my two loyal minions were captured and imprisoned by the Kraven. All you have to do is free them. I¡¯ll give you the power to do it¡ªno strings attached.¡± Silence ensued between them. What did Mark really want? If someone had asked him while awake, he¡¯d say he wanted to protect his family. He wanted a better life for them. But was that really what he wanted? Would he have made the decision to leave them all on their own if that was the case? Well¡­ he did want that. He knew that he wanted that. But in the quiet depths of his mind, where all his thoughts lay bare, he knew that there were things he wanted just as much. He wanted to be free of it all. He wanted to be someone else. And he wanted to slaughter those bastards. They had misled him from the start. It wasn¡¯t like he knew Freddy would lose his life when he was made that offer. They had deceived him. They had robbed him of his soul. And what did he do? He moved past it. And why? Because their old patriarch, the bastard responsible, was gone? The new one was just as evil. He was just as much of a villain. He deserved to die. They all needed to die. The blood they smeared over their hallways wasn¡¯t just a decoration. This whole time, they¡¯d been telling him exactly who they were. Monsters. No¡­ Demons. After a long moment of silence, Mark cracked his mouth open. ¡°How do I know you¡¯ll hold up your end of the deal?¡± The creature¡¯s grin split Freddy¡¯s face in two. ¡°Oh, you¡¯ll know.¡± *** Mark opened his eyes. It was the dead of night. His entire body twitched and spasmed. Power coursed through his veins, bulging his muscles and rapidly healing his wounds. Within his soul, his gathering skyrocketed, blasting through bottlenecks as a supernova exploded with the manifestation of his third star. He felt his talent evolve again. From Rebalanced Musculature at the first star, it had become Superior Musculature at the second. Now, it felt like it was on a different level. The power within him was something that even three-star elites would envy. But that wasn¡¯t even the most shocking part. No, what surprised him the most¡­ was the presence of a second talent. Mark¡¯s mouth spread into a wide grin. With a twitch, he broke the restraints keeping him locked to the bed and got up. Once he left his room, he encountered his bleary-eyed sister on her way to the bathroom. She jumped back in fright upon seeing him. ¡°Mark¡­¡± she called. ¡°You scared me.¡± She kept her head down, looking like she couldn¡¯t meet his gaze. Suddenly, she scowled. ¡°Didn¡¯t Mum say you were¡­¡± Her words trailed off as she raised her head to look at him. She squinted in the dark as she took a cautious step back. ¡°Mark¡­ what¡¯s wrong with your eyes?¡± He smiled at her. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, chief,¡± he rustled her hair. ¡°They¡¯ll look like that from now on.¡± He turned towards the door. ¡°Tell Mum and Dad I¡¯ll be back soon. ¡°I have something to take care of.¡± Chapter 101 - Liberation Rahal walked into the patriarch¡¯s office¡ªno, his office. While it was a pale shadow of the throne he had dreamt of his whole life, marred by the clan¡¯s recent setbacks as it was, he still felt a simmering glee that it now¡­ finally¡­ belonged to him. Not his bullheaded brother or naive nephew; no; it was his and his alone. He sat down on the cold stone chair and leaned back. It was ridiculously uncomfortable. He cackled to himself. His brother had been quite the hardcore type, and he always wanted the world to know it. But Rahal was different. While the patriarch¡¯s image was crucial, he did not want their clan to continue existing in this cold, depressing state. It was too unwelcoming to new recruits, and he knew damn well he¡¯d need to get to recruiting as soon as possible. What the people wanted was luxury and comfort, not blood-slathered stone walls and disgusting decor. The days of stubborn pride were over. It was time to rebuild the clan by the foundation and reshape it stone by stone. He broke himself out of his thoughts and rolled his shoulder. There was no time for daydreaming¡ªa massive pile of unfinished work waited on his desk, and it was time to start chipping away at it. Just as he was about to reach for a paper, a red light ignited above his head, and an alarm started screeching. He rushed to his feet. That was the intruder alarm. A cold chill ran down Rahal¡¯s spine at the thought. Did some faction decide to take a risk and take them out while they were weak? That would be ridiculous! They still had the empress¡¯s protection! What kind of suicidal¡ª ¡°No,¡± he spat as a scowl set across his brow. It had to be Nahar. ¡°That stupid mutt!¡± Rahal spat as he rushed out of the room. He retrieved a staff from his storage ring. The grey, ghoulish wood was polished smooth across its length of slightly over a meter, and a large red gem rested atop the staff. While Kraven was temporarily weakened, they had been a powerful faction for a long time. The treasures and weapons they had acquired throughout the years put them a solid step above the average three-star faction. The staff in his hand increased the potency of his abilities by a startling 16.21%¡ªmaking it almost too powerful for his soul to handle. As he rushed down the halls, he shouted commands at anyone who passed by. Nahar would die that day¡ªbut even though his attack was suicidal, he was still an incredibly powerful archhuman. In fact, purely based on his power, he was far more capable than Rahal. By the time he was taken down, he could cause more damage than the clan could afford to take in these transient times. ¡°That piece of¡ª¡± ¡°Patriarch!¡± a younger clansman with a broken arm came running from the other direction. ¡°Where is Nahar!?¡± Rahal spat, glaring death at the poor boy¡¯s eyes. ¡°It¡¯s not him!¡± ¡°What!?¡± Rahal¡¯s steps slowed as a pang of terror shot down his spine. ¡°Who is attacking us!?¡± ¡°It''s that man who used to work for Nahar!¡± the boy shouted. ¡°He is slaughtering our clansmen!¡± Rahal stared at the boy for a long moment, consternation crossing his eyes. ¡°Shit¡­¡± he muttered. There was only one way that man could have enough power to do this much damage¡ªhe had used a spirit ability to exchange his life for temporary power. If that was the case, their situation was dire. Depending on how much damage that young man did before he was taken out, Nahar would have the opportunity to practically cripple them if he joined the attack. Rahal could not let that happen. ¡°Where is he?¡± The boy quickly answered, and Rahal bolted down the hallway, shouting commands at passersby and gathering a small army of followers behind him. Within less than a minute, he reached the place the young man had described and saw a scene of carnage. The bodies of numerous clansmen had been cleaved through, chopped into pieces. The heavily reinforced walls were severely damaged in a few spots, the hallway floor was drenched in blood up to the ankle, and among the dead, he even spotted a three-star elder. This made no sense. A spirit ability couldn¡¯t explain this. Something else was happening here. Something sinister. He marched with his men, following the trail of blood until they reached an elevator door. The doors leading into the elevator had been pried open, with clear hand-prints still visible on the disfigured metal. Rahal looked down the shaft and spotted a small bloody footprint landing where the elevator shaft turned to the side. ¡°No¡­¡± Why was that man heading towards their prisoners? Could he possibly¡­? He leaped down the shaft, bouncing off the walls skillfully as he reached the turn. As soon as he landed, he saw the distant figure of Mark Afronte as he tore another entrance open with his bare hands and entered the prisoner block. Rahal was stunned for a long moment. Not because of the impressive feat of strength the boy showed¡ªbut because he felt the boy¡¯s power. He wasn¡¯t a two-star. No, the boy was a three-star¡ªnearly at the peak, at that. The boy was at the same level of power as himself. The crowd of people following him stopped as he raised a hand. ¡°Elders, follow after me. You and you,¡± he said, pointing at a pair of two-star supports with the holy affinity, ¡°you come with us. Everyone else, stay behind and guard the exit.¡± They quickly headed into the prisoner block. As he passed through, walking over the corpses of slaughtered guards, his fears were confirmed¡ªthe entrance to the hidden compartment was compromised. They slowed as they heard the sounds of slashing coupled with deep, resonating buzzing sounds. As they walked into the room, they spotted the young man trying to cleave through the protective glass with his sword. Behind the large glass panel was the chamber where their special prisoners were kept secure. The mysterious man and woman were still restrained and hanging from the ceiling. With pulsing flickers that flitted through the defensive barrier, Mark¡¯s attacks were repelled, but not entirely; small cuts were accumulating over the glass, and given enough time, he would make it to the other side. Rahal knew for a fact that the young man could sense their arrival. Yet, he kept slashing away, pretending that they weren¡¯t even there. ¡°Mr. Afronte,¡± Rahal greeted him, stepping forward and keeping his voice level. ¡°If you tell me what you¡¯re doing here, I might consider not torturing your family for years before I take their lives.¡± The man¡¯s sword stopped. Its tip lowered to the ground as Mark slowly turned around. As soon as he was facing their direction, the two supports inhaled sharply through their teeth when they spotted his eerie, square pupils. Rahal¡¯s eyes widened briefly, and despite his efforts to remain calm, a thin sheet of perspiration covered his back. Mark¡¯s mouth morphed into a wicked smile. ¡°Fancy seeing you here.¡± He turned around with his whole body and swung the sword over his shoulder. ¡°I take it you won¡¯t let me release these guys before I kill you?¡± Rahal¡¯s eyes narrowed into slits. ¡°And why are you¡ª¡± Before he could finish his sentence, Mark threw his sword at impossible speed. It flew in a straight line. The tip of the blade pierced through Rahal¡¯s stomach, embedding itself all the way to the guard and just barely avoiding severing his spine. If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. Before anyone could muster a counterattack, Mark dashed forward at a bizarre speed, pulling his sword out and kicking Rahal in the chin, sending him flying up to the ceiling. The supports didn¡¯t have time to cast their buffs before their bodies were diced into chunks. The elders rushed to attack the man, but any projectiles they sent his way appeared to swerve around him, almost like magnets being repelled by the same pole. In the next moment, the elders were dead, too. Rahal got a hold of himself mid-air and used a Blood Burst to send himself flying towards the other end of the room. The massive gash in his stomach hurt like hell, but he ignored it as he raised his staff and fired Blood Bolts at the enemy. Mark didn¡¯t move to dodge. The projectiles just swerved around his body, being pushed aside like snowflakes. ¡°What!?¡± Rahal shouted as he panicked and activated all three stars, increasing his output fourfold and launching a massive, high-speed projectile at the young man. This time, Mark dodged by bending backward. His knees were bent at a 90-degree angle, but he remained standing despite being way off balance. Rahal¡¯s projectile struck the wall on the other side of the room, melting the metal into a sizzling goop. Before Rahal could process what he was seeing, something even more bizarre happened. Mark started floating. His whole body lifted into the air, and his figure slowly levitated towards Rahal. The young man kept an easy smile on his face as he extracted a cloth from his ring to wipe the blood off his blade. ¡°This stuff is pretty corrosive,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m gonna have to charge you for the damage to my sword.¡± Rahal was no fool. He could tell what was happening here. Whatever this young man had done, it had put him at a level of power that he wasn¡¯t qualified to face. With grim determination, he activated his spirit ability. It would cost him a whole star, but in return, it would¡ª Before he could blink, Mark was standing right in front of him, and for some reason, Rahal¡¯s body was falling to the ground. Once the pain finally reached his mind, he reeled at the sensation of all four of his limbs being severed at once. ¡°Gaargh!¡± he shouted as his back impacted the ground. ¡°Aaaaah¡ªgggrrraaaah¡­!¡± he groaned in pain as he clenched his jaw. He felt a whole star evaporate from his soul, and power filled his body¡ªbut to what end? Mark grabbed him by the neck and lifted his body, bringing their faces close enough to kiss. Rahal wanted to fight back. His pride sought any way to rebel, any method he could find that would at least let him survive. But that gaze¡­ In the square pupils of his killer¡¯s face, he saw an abyss deeper than hell, darker than the void, and more sinister than the very concept of evil. Within Mark¡¯s eyes¡­ He saw death itself. *** Mark stared at the pathetic, groveling form of his greatest enemy. Somewhere far in the back of his mind, he knew there would be consequences for his actions. He was aware of the danger and the risks; he knew that the power he wielded wasn¡¯t free, but he smiled anyway. There was so much he wanted to say to the man. The amount of anger he wanted to spill out was overflowing. Yet, rather than say anything, he simply pried the patriarch¡¯s jaw open and started pulling his teeth out. One by one. He enjoyed watching the man¡¯s willpower flicker like a candle in the wind. Every time those eyes showed defiance, he inflicted punishment. Before long, the man was crying like a pathetic worm, and Mark knew if he removed his hand from the man¡¯s neck, he would hear him plead for his life. He tightened his grip instead, crushing the man¡¯s windpipe. ¡°Oops,¡± he muttered. With that, the patriarch¡¯s eyes were already starting to dim. The fun was coming to an end. ¡°Oh well,¡± he said as he dropped the man to the ground and crushed his head underfoot. There was no time to play around. He had to hurry. He quickly dug through the patriarch¡¯s storage ring and found the key he remembered Nahar using to access restricted areas. Before long, he also found the keyhole, and a moment later, he entered the chamber. There was a disgusting smell in the air. With a few swift slashes, he freed his targets from their restraints and released them. The two were incredibly thin¡ªmost of their muscle tissue had atrophied due to the way they were imprisoned. They were covered in numerous wounds, but it was nothing debilitating. The Kraven had clearly tortured them, but they were spared any heavy injuries, likely as the clan was hoping to make use of them at some point in the future. Naive bastards. The man was the first to get up to his feet. ¡°I thank you, young one, for your assistance. We were told you¡¯d come here.¡± He rolled his shoulders and stretched a bit. ¡°I haven¡¯t moved in quite some time, so you¡¯ll have to give me a few moments to regain my mobility.¡± ¡°No problem,¡± Mark said with a chuckle. ¡°But do hurry if you can.¡± The man nodded. ¡°My name is Kaefalge, by the way,¡± he said. ¡°I apologize for the late introduction.¡± ¡°Firrita,¡± the woman on the floor added. ¡°And¡­ I¡¯d appreciate some help¡­¡± ¡°Sure thing,¡± Mark said as he helped the woman off the ground. ¡°Oh, and I¡¯m Mark Afronte. Nice to meet you two.¡± He helped the two with removing all the smaller restraints, and once done, they plundered the bodies of the people Mark killed. There were some healing salves that helped the two prisoners recover slightly. On their way out, they visited the changing area for the Kraven militia. It was entirely empty, as most of the militia had already been disbanded. They all donned Kraven militia uniforms to avoid suspicion as much as possible. Mark¡¯s plans were¡­ open-ended. Frankly, he had no idea what to do next. He had simultaneously committed a major war crime and violated the protection the empress extended over the Kraven clan due to their demotion. His¡­ ¡°patron¡± had told him the two he had liberated would know what to do. So he asked them. ¡°We must leave this city,¡± Kaefalge said. ¡°Sorry for my language, but¡­ no shit?¡± Mark spat. ¡°Of course we do. But where do we go from there?¡± ¡°We will navigate through the Great Labyrinthe until we reach a safe harbor.¡± Mark¡¯s steps faltered. ¡°Huh?¡± ¡°The interspace,¡± Firrita said. ¡°That¡¯s how they call it here, remember?¡± ¡°Ah, yes,¡± the man said. Mark stopped. ¡°That¡¯s suicide,¡± he said. ¡°Why would that be the case?¡± the man asked. ¡°If you do not trust us, you can simply go your own way.¡± Mark gritted his teeth. He''d be fine if it was just him, but what about his family? His heart sped up, and he started to regret his choice. ¡°Let¡¯s leave this place first, then we¡¯ll talk further, okay?¡± he suggested. The man shrugged. ¡°That suits me just fine.¡± They tried to look inconspicuous as they moved through the residential area. Their square eyes stood out quite a bit, but nobody had any reason to believe it was anything but a strange fashion statement. The Kraven''s intruder system was entirely internal. They wanted to keep it a secret from the outside world if something like this ever happened precisely so that nobody could capitalize on a moment of vulnerability. Within a few minutes, they reached his family residence. As soon as he knocked on the door, his father tore it open and shouted, ¡°Where were you¡ª¡± His words trailed off as he spotted Mark and the two strangers behind him. ¡°What¡¯s happening?¡± he muttered. ¡°Call Mum and Sarah,¡± Mark said. ¡°And come with me.¡± ¡°We¡¯re not going anywhere until you¡ª¡± ¡°It¡¯s a matter of life and death. Call Mum and Sarah immediately.¡± His father swallowed and, with a stern glare, reluctantly listened to his son¡¯s request. Soon enough, the three square-eyed archhumans were being followed by a perplexed trio of civilians, and before long, they made their way over to the exit from the residential area. Just as they stepped into the lobby, a voice called from the side, ¡°What do we have here¡­?¡± Mark¡¯s steps froze as he recognized the voice. ¡°He¡¯s powerful,¡± Kaefalge whispered into Mark¡¯s ear. ¡°I¡¯m well aware of that,¡± Mark growled back as he turned around and smiled pleasantly at the man walking toward them. ¡°Hello there, Mr. Maskaart! What can I do for you?¡± What the hell is this bastard doing here¡­? Mark wondered. He wore a colorful button-up shirt and grey shorts, with clapping sandals marking his every step. Basilisk¡¯s snake-like eyes narrowed into slits as he grinned at them. ¡°Oh, you know, business as usual. I heard your old boss had lost his job, so I was trying to find him and see if we could hash out a deal regarding a certain¡­ issue he may or may not have.¡± Mark gritted his teeth, failing to keep his frustration hidden. Basilisk laughed. ¡°What¡¯s with the hostility? I¡¯m not here to ruin your family¡¯s¡­ picnic.¡± A sly grin spread across his face. ¡°Say, your eyes look a little different than I remember. And your soul tickles me just a bit harder now. How strange.¡± ¡°What do you want?¡± Mark spat, ready to pull his sword out if need be. ¡°Come on, you know I¡¯m not that kind of guy!¡± he said as he stepped right before Mark. ¡°I¡¯m just curious about the situation you found yourself in. Just in case you did something like break into the Kraven compound and free the two mysterious prisoners that my informants told me the Kraven were hiding deep within their headquarters!¡± he blurted quickly. ¡°Just an example.¡± ¡°What do you want?¡± Basilisk grinned even wider. ¡°That¡¯s the wrong question to ask. I have a better one for you¡ªwhat are you willing to give me? If you need my help getting away without finding yourself on the empire¡¯s chopping block, now would be the time to ask.¡± Mark froze at that. Rather than reject it outright, he prodded, ¡°Depends on what you¡¯ll ask for in return.¡± ¡°I think that¡¯s something we should discuss behind closed doors, my boy. Follow me.¡± The man turned around and started walking away. ¡°Mark¡­¡± his mother whispered. ¡°Please,¡± he said, forcing a tight smile on his face. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you everything.¡± He stepped forward and gave his mother a hug. Once he released her, she glanced at his face, and a clear expression of terror flickered through her eyes at the sight of his bizarre pupils. ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± he said. Then, he turned to his sister and father. ¡°I know you guys don¡¯t see me the same way anymore. But I promise you, no matter what it takes, I¡¯ll do anything to keep you guys safe.¡± His throat tightened. ¡°You coming?¡± Basilisk called from across the room. ¡°Yeah, wait a moment,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± he told his family. He teared up slightly as his voice shivered. ¡°Just don¡¯t hate me, okay?¡± He looked between his mother, father, and sister. None of them could meet his eyes. But that was all right. It would all be okay. Whether they liked him or not, he would always be there for them. He would do whatever it takes. [BOOK TWO FINALE] Chapter 102 - Naive Little Shit Freddy was in debt. Thus, it was easy to conclude that saving money was the right choice to make. Perhaps, at some point in the past, he¡¯d have made that decision. He¡¯d cheapen out on anything he could to ensure that his debt was cleared as soon as possible. But on that day, he was a wiser man. He¡¯d gotten a taste of earning thousands of dollars in just a single day. So, which was the right decision¡ªlet the money rot¡­ or invest it to increase his profit? He returned to his apartment, holding several large bags of equipment. Not only were his savings of over half a million dollars gone, but he was 100,000 dollars deeper in debt, courtesy of a brand new loan. During his time in the gorel realm, he¡¯d learned many things. This was reflected quite aptly in his purchases. A pretty large bulk of the money he¡¯d spent was invested into only four pieces of equipment: the helmet, boots, metal vambraces, and a reinforced vest. The helmet was smooth, almost resembling a motorcycle helmet. The visor was much wider than the one on his last headgear, giving him a more extensive field of view. The glass was made from a material that was quite effective at blocking blinding light-based attacks. The boots were much bulkier than his previous ones, but he knew that he wouldn¡¯t regret the extra protection. Bracers were great, often comprising the first line of defense between him and a charging enemy. But they were usually made of thinner, lighter material. Their origin was that of a piece of equipment archers used to protect their arms from the bow string. He needed more than that. The metal vambraces he bought were damn bulky, adding quite a bit of weight to his upper arms, but they were tough enough to provide a much more valuable layer of protection against serious melee blows. The reinforced vest was somewhat of an experimental piece. He often delved alone, and he didn¡¯t have 360-degree vision. The vest he bought was heavily reinforced along the spine and heart areas, giving some extra protection to what could be called his only real weak spots in his torso. The main thing that was different about this piece was the same as with the vambraces¡ªit was bloody heavy. 50 kilograms, to be exact. With his equipment and Abyssal Depths, Freddy¡¯s total weight was well over 200 kilograms. While he could still claim to be mobile, he certainly wasn¡¯t fast. With the way he was going, speed would never be his strength. Rather than constantly trying to compensate, he wanted to make the most out of what he had. He planned on becoming something of a tank¡ªsomewhat slow, incredibly sturdy, and packing one hell of a devastating ranged attack. With the added bonus of stealing people¡¯s life force, of course. A vampire tank. Other than that, he got a heat-resistant body suit, some permeable gloves that allowed blood through so he didn¡¯t have to take them off or ruin them when forming Gore Knuckles, and a whole collection of pieces of underwear bought at quite the luxurious premium. Everything was camo¡ªgray, black, and brown, mainly on the darker side. And everything was extra fire-resistant. It took a few days for his equipment to be ready to use since he had to get it refitted, which also cost quite a bit of money, but now that he had everything, there was no more reason to stall. After half an hour of pulling things on, tying straps, and securing buttons, he headed out toward his new place of work. Three of the four new public hubs were suitable for his personal preferences. One banned him the moment he tried registering due to his criminal record, and another wasn¡¯t accepting two-stars since it was aimed at beginners. That left him with only one, somewhat unpleasant option. As opposed to the gorel hub that used to be a short walk from where he lived, this realm was a 40-minute bus ride away. He was looking for accommodation somewhere closer, but for the time being, he didn¡¯t mind the commute. Once he was off the bus, he had another short walk to get there. The hub building was quite similar to Santorio. In fact, most of these public passage were within similar buildings. Heavily reinforced metallic constructions were used to ensure that the damage could be minimized in the unlikely case of a break. They had been beefed up a bit after the¡­ incident. He stepped into the lobby, where he was greeted by a scene quite reminiscent of his first delve. Even the interior was similar, but rather than a scattering of couches, this hub used plush armchairs. Dumb motherfuckers kept pointing fingers at his excessive gear, laughing and calling him names. Because they were so much cooler for not wearing a fucking helmet to a place where losing their head was a constant risk. But such people were a minority here, thankfully. This realm was no joke. And the delvers reflected this. Naive fools were few and far between, with most people resting around looking quite a bit more experienced. Granted, nobody was wearing gear as heavy as his own, but they were still properly equipped. Rather than a descent into a cellar, the passage of this realm was right behind a bend on the other side of the room. Rather than a massive entrance, the passage was the size of a tight door. Freddy had to wait in line for around two minutes before being allowed to pass through. And on the other side¡­ Well, it was probably what hell looked like. The first thing that hit him was the smell of smoke and sulfur. Several hill-sized volcanoes were scattered throughout the realm, and rivers of lava flowed into massive lakes of fire. What solid land there was was overgrown by near pitch-black vegetation. Everything seemed to have an oily surface. The ground was a depressing shade of gray bordering on black, and the ¡°ceiling¡± of the realm was a reflective, uneven surface that evenly scattered the light throughout. This place had no sky; to be technical, it didn¡¯t have a ceiling, either. That reflective, uneven surface was nothing. Quite literally. Most people imagined nothing to be a black void. But for something to be black, it had to either be an empty space or a material that absorbed light. Nothing couldn¡¯t absorb light. Things couldn¡¯t just ¡°go nowhere.¡± Nothing wasn¡¯t material. It wasn¡¯t empty space. It wasn¡¯t¡­ anything. Nothing was indeed just nothing. True nothingness appeared like a perfectly reflective surface. Everything, be it matter, light, or force, was simply reflected right back with 100 percent efficiency. And this nothingness was the true edge of every realm in the interspace. A naked look at the very border of existence. Where there was nothing left to see. Looking at the tall surface above made Freddy feel queasy. Knowing that nothing lay beyond the confines of a realm was one thing¡ªseeing it was another altogether. It was a phenomenon that truly defied human comprehension. He settled on thinking about it as just a mirror instead and managed to temporarily stave off the searing existential dread that had built up in the back of his mind. With a resigned step, he embarked on his journey throughout this hellscape of a realm. The main targets were these large white lizard things that mostly lived inside the lava but journeyed into the nearby woods to find something to eat. They were the size of a horse, but they could move at quite the speed due to an inborn talent. The greasy woods had several types of monsters, the most notable being the giant, black, greasy snakes that fed on the lizards. The snakes were a bit slippery¡ªquite literally¡ªbut he found that one solid injury anywhere along their body was enough to mortally wound them. Or maybe that was just the incredible power behind his blows. The lizards proved to be the tricker among the two opponents. They were damn fast on their feet, and as soon as they spotted even a hint of movement, they bolted right back into the lava and dove into it in an instant. Despite being deaf, sneaking up on them was quite hard¡ªthey had a large field of view and kept tight notice of their surroundings. Freddy couldn¡¯t kill a single one. Thankfully, the massive snakes were considered the more challenging target for most delvers, and their bodies were comparatively more valuable. Among the other monsters in the forest were frogs that spat acid and bat-like creatures with incredibly sharp teeth and claws. Both critters were almost worthless but could easily damage equipment, as Freddy learned the hard way. Three snakes in a single day and all by himself was apparently quite the impressive haul, given the looks people gave him. It was no surprise, either¡ªthat was 14,000 dollars. The fee for delving here was only 20 percent compared to the nasty 50 percent fee at Santorio¡¯s, but that wasn¡¯t a huge surprise. This realm was rated at D+¡ªsuitable for either peak two-stars or competent parties. While the deal seemed wonderful, the reality was a bit more complicated. The demerits were numerous, and few delvers would find it a practical place to make money. Hell, even Freddy had struggled to get that much done. Those damn forest critters had done a number on his new gear. 8000 dollars of his earnings were gone on repair, just like that. Not to mention that the whole realm was so hot that Freddy would have died of heat stroke had he not frequently cast Create Water over himself to cool down. While the heat-resistant equipment served him well, it wasn¡¯t heat-immune. With an incredibly hostile environment and annoying monsters, it was an excellent place to get injured or stuck perpetually working to get the damaged equipment repaired. While injuries were no issue for him, fixing his equipment would still be a significant tax on the total profits he made unless he found a way to deal with the critters. Freddy still had a lot of stamina and essence in the tank, but that was enough work for the first day. He¡¯d have to cycle Adaptive Water Body a bit to help deal with the heat fatigue. Besides, it¡¯d do him no good to attract too much attention. For the rest of that day, he read through the guide on the realm again. It was crazy how differently he perceived the text after seeing it for himself. So many small details that seemed irrelevant suddenly popped out, almost like the text was stabbing him in the eye. He went about the rest of his evening as usual, eating, keeping himself clean, and working on his tempering. The next day, he was up at 9 a.m. He put his gear on and stepped outside. A short bus ride later, he was at the hub. As soon as he stepped inside, he noticed something slightly disconcerting¡ªthere was a group of four delvers he hadn¡¯t seen the other day. All of them were geared up quite heavily, clad in almost as much protection as he was¡ªbut it was clearly of much higher value. Three of them had nothing unusual about them, but their fourth member was massive, over 2 meters tall, with a frame Freddy could only compare to someone like Jacob Santorio, but a bit skinnier. While it wasn¡¯t that rare to see people wearing helmets, it was unusual that they were all wearing them inside the lobby. Their gear had no signs of maintenance¡ªit was brand new. And they were powerful. They all had a way to hide their gathering, so he couldn¡¯t tell exactly how strong they were, but they most likely weren¡¯t over two stars in power. For a moment, he could swear he felt their attention on him, but in the next instant, it was gone, like they had never noticed him to begin with. These people were strange. Bizarre, even. The most likely explanation was that they were some sort of party of enforcers. The empire occasionally sent such people into hubs like these, usually if there was suspicious activity among the delvers. Given that it took being at least a little crazy to delve here, it was no surprise that someone was up to no good. While their appearance was curious, Freddy had no further interest in them. For that day, he headed towards one of the larger lakes of lava. It had a clearing surrounding it, and the number of lizards in the area was high. There were no other delvers there. He made this place his target because, without the surrounding forest, there were no annoying critters to inflict damage on his armor. He¡¯d have to rely on his javelin-throwing skills to hunt, but even if he only got a few, avoiding repair costs was worth it. However, it wasn¡¯t surprising that this spot was unpopular¡ªthe heat the lake emitted was insane. With temperatures like this, Freddy was considering developing some sort of ability specifically for cooling his armor. He settled a bit away from the lizard beach and got to throwing. As soon as one lizard spotted the projectile, it rushed into the lava, immediately prompting all the other lizards to follow. Thus, Freddy¡¯s hunting regime consisted of throwing spears randomly and praying he hit something. While the lizards were fast, their bodies were large, so hitting them wasn¡¯t impossible. A few times, his prayers were answered. He landed four throws by sheer chance¡ªeven though he only killed three of the targets. From what he knew of the pricing, that would add up to around 4000 dollars total. While that didn¡¯t seem like a lot¡ªa thought he couldn¡¯t believe he was actually considering¡ªit was money earned with little essence spent and in relative safety. When accounting for the repair cost, he had almost earned as much money as he had the day before. If he continued for another run like yesterday, even with armor repair, he should be 10,000 dollars richer. He was at 154% essence remaining, but he¡¯d spent 200% on water and around 50% on the javelins through his satellite. With the RETI of those affinities, he could continue delving further, but he had to keep an eye on the reflux water essence. His blood reserves were low, though. There was only around 10% capacity remaining in his reserves. Once he finally got Pool of Blood to stage 2, he shouldn¡¯t be at risk of running out unless he wasted blood with reckless abandon. Just as he was about to go collect the corpses, he heard a voice from behind him. ¡°Hey!¡± someone shouted. ¡°Do you have a moment?¡± The cadence of the voice was familiar, but it sounded muffled¡ªalmost modified through the helmet. Freddy raised an eyebrow as he turned to face the three people approaching him. It was those people he had spotted in the lobby, minus the freakishly large guy. The one standing on the left held a shortbow, the one on the right carried a spear of pure metal, and the one in the middle¡ªthe man who was talking¡ªhad a shortsword sheathed on his hip. ¡°We¡¯re new around here,¡± the man said as he stopped some 10 meters away. ¡°We were wondering if you have any suggestions for good hunting spots. Or maybe we could join up?¡± Something about this situation didn¡¯t sit right with Freddy. In the back of his mind, his instincts were screaming that something was wrong. The voice he thought sounded familiar, the missing man, the brand new gear, the fact that they were there¡ªit all added up to something, and he didn¡¯t like it one bit. Suddenly, he heard a strange noise. It sounded like footsteps, and they quickly got closer to him. He turned around to face the sound, only to spot the massive man charging at him from a blind spot, and in the next moment, an arrow struck him in the stomach, although it barely pierced his vest, and he jerked his head back to the other three, only to spot the archer preparing another arrow. Before he could move out of the way or even react, the massive figure jumped and drop-kicked him toward the lake. The momentum behind the strike was incredible, and he felt his entire torso scream in agony as the surface of his skin cracked apart and the integrity of his armor fell into ruin. His body flew over the lake¡¯s surface, its heat so scalding he felt his skin boil, and just as he was about to fall into the lava, he activated both stars and used Create Water. The large ball of liquid caught him like a net in the air, slowing him down as the water washed over the scorching surface. Thankfully, water created by essence couldn¡¯t turn into steam, so he wasn¡¯t in the center of an explosion, but unfortunately, it wasn¡¯t nearly cold enough to handle the lava. Freddy¡¯s body dropped on a fragile and ridiculously hot raft of sizzling obsidian, and while his body burned, his mind churned for any way out of his predicament. *** ¡°Holy shit,¡± Jacob cursed as he got off the floor. ¡°That bastard is tough as nails. I expected him to break in two.¡± Theodore¡¯s eyes were locked on the flying form of Liam as he flew into the jaws of fiery death. It was time to drop the pretense¡ªhe was fucking ecstatic to see the asshole finally die. And it seemed that he wasn¡¯t going down without a spectacle. A large ball of water appeared in his path and caught him, slowing him and dropping him onto an obsidian platform. Theodore snickered at the attempt. All the man had achieved was to make his death even more painful. He was already a good 30 meters out¡ªand even if he found a way back, he wasn¡¯t making it past them. Still, even though they didn¡¯t need to do anything to finish him off, it didn¡¯t mean he wouldn¡¯t take pleasure in adding to the man¡¯s suffering. ¡°Grant,¡± he called the archer. ¡°Give him hell.¡± You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. The archer nodded and took aim. He fired arrow after arrow, but Theodore could see that even with their respectable power, they weren¡¯t sinking particularly deep. ¡°Tough as nails, indeed,¡± he admitted. Suddenly, he spotted movement to their side. The corpses of the giant white lizards were leaking black liquid, likely their blood, and it was flowing through the air¡ªright in Liam¡¯s direction. ¡°Randy,¡± he called the spearman. ¡°Disperse it,¡± he commanded. The air-affinity spearman nodded and raised a hand, using a simple Gale to try and disperse the blood. It didn¡¯t work. As the black liquid broke into mist, it floated faster over to the grilling man, who was somehow gathering it into a large ball above him. Grant fired away at the mass of blood, but nothing seemed to affect it. A moment later, the ball of liquid started glowing, transforming into crimson mist. He had a bad feeling about it. A moment later, that feeling turned into horror as the mist manifested in the form of a three-meter-tall skeleton drenched in blood. ¡°What the hell is that?¡± he muttered. Considerable power radiated from the creature, so much, in fact, that they¡¯d be in trouble if it was next to them. ¡°Keep firing,¡± he said. The arrows flew at the creature, and while they were leaving visible marks on the bone, they weren¡¯t powerful enough to break them apart. Suddenly, the bloody monster grabbed Liam by the leg and lifted him into the air as if it were going to throw him. Theodore¡¯s mind spun as he tried to predict what the creature was doing. If it was throwing Liam at them, it was sending the man to his death. There had to be another¡ª ¡°The passage!¡± he screamed in terror, his eyes wide open. ¡°We have to start running immediately!¡± ¡°What¡¯s happening?¡± asked Jacob. ¡°Hurry the hell up!¡± insisted Theodore as he ran back towards the passage. The other three quickly caught on to his meaning and joined the man. That creature felt quite powerful. It no doubt had the strength to throw Liam all the way back to the realm''s entrance. And the man had just proven capable of manifesting a mass of water large enough to catch himself mid-air to prevent death from falling. If he made it back there and into the hub, the four of them would be in deep shit. In the worst-case scenario, the adjudicators would get involved, and even with Jacob¡¯s political clout, things could get ugly. ¡°Grant!¡± Theodore shouted. ¡°Just¡­ Fuck! Try and shoot him out of the air if he¡ª¡± A nasty crunching sound interrupted his words. With pure disbelief, Theodore watched the man he was just talking to fly a few dozen meters forward under the impact of Liam¡¯s flying body, who was also skittering across the ground. As soon as Liam stopped rolling, he started getting back up to his feet. Grant¡¯s arms were bent the wrong way. He wasn¡¯t moving. Before Liam could get back up, Randy screamed in fury and dashed forward, aiming his spear to impale the bastard before he found his footing. But before the man¡¯s weapon could land, another mass of water appeared around Liam¡ªbut this time, it was strange. Slithering shapes shifted through the liquid, scurrying about and enshrouding its depths. Randy couldn¡¯t stop himself in time and dove head-first into the mass of liquid. A moment later, the dark water flowed away and evaporated, leaving the image of Randy¡¯s body impaled upon spiky knuckles of blood. The spearman coughed as he tried to say something, but Liam grabbed his head and smashed it against his knee, crushing it like a can of soda. Theodore and Jacob froze as they watched Liam throw Randy¡¯s limp body aside like a wet rag doll. It made no sense. Liam¡¯s armor was partly melted, with chunks of his metal vest that Jacob¡¯s talent had crushed rattling inside the body suit. The two of them could smell the burned flesh, yet Liam stood as if his disfigured body was a moderate inconvenience. ¡°You bastards,¡± Liam said, his voice sounding distorted, likely due to the heat burns inside his throat from inhaling the scalding hot air from so close to the lava¡¯s surface. ¡°I know who you are,¡± he declared as he lifted a finger at them. ¡°Jacob and Theodore, am I right? Now what the fuck did I do to you!?¡± he shouted to the best of his ability, but it sounded warped. ¡°Huh!?¡± ¡°Jacob,¡± Theodore whispered. ¡°I¡¯m gonna Bless you. Take him out before anyone comes.¡± To Theodore¡¯s surprise, Liam seemed to have heard his words from that distance. He got into a stance and prepared to fight. *** Freddy was not in a state to fight. His essence was at 76%, but that was the least of his problems. The damage all across his body was terrible. So bad that if he wasn¡¯t undead, he¡¯d already be going into shock. The burns had healed a bit after he killed the two men, and the worst of it was scabbed over with the scar tissue created by first-aid-quality healing. That was barely keeping him together. Master¡­ Bloodshed whispered in his mind, and he glanced at the distant form of the skeleton. My time is up. That was short, but also to be expected given how little blood Freddy had used. Frankly, he was surprised at the power Bloodshed could show even with that bit of blood. The amount of blood seemed to have a more significant impact on its size and how long Bloodshed could remain than on its power. But now it was gone. And he was facing two opponents all by himself. He watched Theodore step over to Jacob and deliver his promised Blessing. After doing so, he pointed a finger at Freddy and fired a practically undodgable beam of light. It did no damage, but it near-perfectly outlined the area on his body where he had suffered the worst of the burns. ¡°Son of a¡ª¡± Before he could finish his curse, Jacob was sprinting at him. Freddy readied himself into a stance and did his best to ignore the pain he was feeling. Jacob was there within seconds, and Freddy launched his fist forward. The man dodged the attack effortlessly, bending around and landing a nasty kick on Freddy¡¯s burned hip. Yet again, the man¡¯s attack seemed to have a strange effect on armor. The body suit was torn apart with ease, and even his bones felt like they were cracking into pieces. The two of them engaged in a melee, with Jacob landing every blow and Freddy failing to do anything about it. On top of simply outclassing him in skill, Jacob was casting Shift Ground occasionally, disturbing Freddy¡¯s footing and making him clumsily stumble around as he continued his onslaught. Every now and then, Freddy saw something he remembered Sophia doing, but Jacob did it so much faster and so much harder that there was little Freddy could do to retaliate. When he thought the situation couldn¡¯t get much worse, Theodore picked up the dead archer¡¯s bow and started firing arrows. The man had no power to make the arrows count, but he knew just where to aim to distract Freddy even further. I have to use Leviathan¡¯s Fury, he thought¡ªbut he hesitated. Jacob would die if he did that, but what then? Freddy would be left half-dead, and even against Theodore, he didn¡¯t believe he could win a fight in that state. While the man was primarily a support, the light affinity could get dangerous if need be. But did he have a choice? A punch landed on the side of his helmet, cracking his visor. A kick landed on his knee, sending a sharp jolt of pain through his leg. Then, a punch in the gut, another kick in his burn wounds, and another kick right in his chest, each strike leaving cracks through his body. He felt helpless as he did back when he was sparring with Sophia. His eyes widened briefly as he remembered something she had told him¡ª *** After landing another blow on his ear, Sophia shook her head and stepped back. ¡°You really do suck at fighting.¡± ¡°Huh!?¡± Freddy shouted, picking at his left ear, where he struggled to hear anything. ¡°Can you repeat that a bit louder?¡± He could hear her just fine with his other ear, of course, but he decided to be a prick just for the hell of it. Sophia rolled her eyes. ¡°This is not the time to be joking.¡± ¡°Then give me advice!¡± he yelled. ¡°You¡¯ve been yapping plenty, but I¡¯ve yet to hear something useful!¡± ¡°I¡¯ve given you plenty of pointers.¡± ¡°And I¡¯m too dumb to follow!¡± he said, sighing as he pinched the bridge of his nose. ¡°Sorry, but I know you¡¯re used to people who aren¡¯t¡­ you know¡­ challenged when it comes to stuff like this. But I think it''s becoming obvious this isn¡¯t working for me.¡± Sophia scowled at that and, a few moments later, nodded. ¡°You¡¯re right.¡± She took a few steps forward and looked up at him with squinted eyes. ¡°While it usually takes much longer to discern someone¡¯s true nature, I¡¯m rather confident you¡¯re a Hateful.¡± ¡°I¡¯m a what?¡± ¡°A Hateful. You have something my people call a ¡®mind of hate.¡¯¡± He gave her a flat stare in response. Then, he scoffed. ¡°Aight. I already knew I¡¯m a born hater¡ªyou didn¡¯t have to beat the shit out of me to tell you that.¡± ¡°This goes deeper than just being prone to hatred,¡± she said, pointing at his face. ¡°When it comes to fighting, even in sparring, you attack with passion, like you have a personal vendetta against the fact that I¡¯m standing in your way.¡± He frowned at that. ¡°I didn¡¯t really get to do much of anything.¡± ¡°Because I don¡¯t let you,¡± she said. ¡°When you attack, you don¡¯t put any thought into it. A fight isn¡¯t decided after a punch is thrown¡ªit''s decided before that. To win a fight, you must know what your opponent intends to do and directly counter that move before they even make it. But with you, there¡¯s no such thinking.¡± ¡°You expect me to what, play fortune teller mid-fight?¡± He snorted. She smiled at that. ¡°People like you should never be close-combat fighters. There¡¯s more to a fight than winning. Everyone who fights to the death has to walk away not only victorious but healthy.¡± ¡°Bah,¡± he said. ¡°You know that¡¯s not a problem for me.¡± ¡°I do; you don¡¯t.¡± Freddy paused for a long moment. He was about to say something, but he shut his mouth as he thought her words through. ¡°Look,¡± she said, smiling mockingly at the rusty gears turning in his head. ¡°You don¡¯t need precognition to guess what your opponent will do next. In fact, you have a natural advantage against skilled opponents.¡± ¡°That makes absolutely no sense.¡± ¡°Does it?¡± she asked, tapping her chin. ¡°Think about it like this¡ªif you know where it would hurt the most to get hit, that¡¯s probably where you¡¯re going to get hit next,¡± she said. ¡°A skilled opponent will aim for openings.¡± ¡°Yeah¡­¡± he nodded as he finally got it. ¡°Huh. That actually makes sense,¡± he said. ¡°You know, I¡¯ve had a similar thought, but any time I try to defend myself, you just hit me somewhere else.¡± ¡°That¡¯s why you shouldn¡¯t defend yourself.¡± He scowled at that. ¡°Huh?¡± ¡°Freddy, look¡ªno matter what is done to you, you¡¯ll live. So when someone aims where it¡¯s gonna hurt¡ªyou hit where it''s gonna hurt harder.¡± *** Jacob planted his feet into the soil as he swung a fist at Liam, landing a solid blow on the man¡¯s stomach. Even injured as he was, the man was incompetent. Yet, despite his lack of skill, he had some of the most incredible defense Jacob had seen from a two-star, and the man apparently didn¡¯t even have a defensive talent. Suddenly, the man¡¯s guard dropped on the injured side of his body. He was finally starting to lose steam. Jacob, purely by muscle memory, launched an attack straight at the opening, aiming to crush the man¡¯s hip and end the fight. Yet, at the same time¡ªno, before Jacob even made his move¡ªLiam was in the middle of throwing a punch. Neither of them could dodge. Jacob¡¯s kick landed with a nasty crunch, and Liam¡¯s spiked fist landed on Jacob¡¯s helmet. The Gore Knuckles pierced through the helmet with incredible power behind them, far more than Jacob expected to see from the man, and one of the broken spikes sank into his left eye. ¡°Fuck!¡± he screamed. The unexpected force threw him off balance, his head reeling from the blow. He took several large steps back to create distance between himself and his debilitated opponent. He refocused his sight and watched the man conjure a flimsy Blood Javelin. He prepared himself to throw it, but rather than launching it at Jacob, he threw it at Theodore. The projectile flew struck the caster right in the knee. So fast!? Theodore¡¯s knee exploded, nearly blowing his entire leg off. With a pained scream, the man dropped to the ground. Liam conjured another spear and threw it at Jacob. The projectile flew at insane velocity, reaching Jacob just as he raised his hand to slap it aside. He managed to redirect the attack, but his hand felt numb from the impact. Liam didn¡¯t conjure any more projectiles. In fact, the man was obviously exhausted, with blood running down his armor and his posture drooping. Jacob, carefully observing his opponent, started approaching. ¡°You vile bastard,¡± he accused, conjuring a Fireball and throwing it at the man. It was a distraction at best, but against a helpless target, it was still a ball of fiery agony. Yet, even though he was on fire, Liam seemed to care little about it. A ball of water manifested above his head and flowed over his body, extinguishing the flame. ¡°I saw it,¡± Jacob said. ¡°That whore by your side was one of them. I refuse to believe you didn¡¯t know!¡± He raised his hand and fired a Stone Bullet, aiming at exposed flesh and tearing a chunk out. Liam still didn¡¯t show a reaction. ¡°You think this is some sort of sick game!?¡± Jacob shouted. ¡°Do you even have any idea what kind of pain¡­? What kind of horrors those cultist bastards committed!?¡± he shouted as he fired one Stone Bullet after another. ¡°Do you!? You and your ¡®friends¡¯ have extinguished so many innocent lives. Karen¡­ Phillip¡­¡± His words were reduced to sobs. ¡°Rachel¡­ They deserved better. If it weren¡¯t for sick bastards like you¡­¡± ¡°Sorry for interrupting you, man¡­¡± Liam croaked, ¡°but what the fuck are you on about?¡± Jacob snorted. ¡°Playing dumb until the end, huh? You know what; fuck you. I¡¯m not a sick bastard like you. I¡¯ll make your death quick.¡± With both stars active, Jacob used Hydraulic Flex and dashed straight towards Liam, and just as he was about to land the killing blow, he heard Liam mutter something, ¡°Leviathan¡¯s Fury.¡± *** Theodore watched Liam¡¯s body erupt into a forest of bony spikes. A moment later, Jacob¡¯s body was trapped in the jaws of what looked like something between a dragon and a turtle. He muttered something through bloody coughs, and a moment later, the spikes retracted, dropping his dead, mangled body to the ground. Theodore¡¯s breathing was frantic. His knee was shattered entirely¡ªhealing it would take more essence than he could afford to expend. After standing deathly still for a few moments, Freddy fell to his knees. The man¡¯s entire body was covered in severe wounds, and blood was seeping through the cracks in his armor. Whatever that skull was, it had taken both of them out. However, rather than lay down and die, Liam extracted a fleshy blob out of thin air and a hunting knife. And he started stabbing. Theodore was frozen in horror as he watched the numerous weak points across the man¡¯s body slowly fade. Panicked beyond the ability to reason, he unhesitantly cast Piercing Beam with both stars activated and aimed it at Liam¡¯s head. Faster than the wounded man could dodge, a beam of light as thick as a grown man¡¯s leg impacted his head, vaporizing the cracked helmet and melting his skin and flesh to the bone. A grisly white skull with blood seeping through the charred eyes and flowing down from where the scalp started was all that was left of Liam¡¯s face. Yet¡­ again¡­ rather than drop dead¡­ The man raised the dagger. And started swinging. The sickening sounds of flesh being repeatedly torn sank into the background as Theodore watched, frozen in horror, as tissue rapidly grew back all across the man¡¯s face. It looked scarred and raw, but with more and more slashes, it rapidly improved. ¡°Y-y-y¡­ You fucking monster!¡± he shouted as he turned around and started crawling away. He clawed through the dirt for minutes, feeling his mind melt from the despair. And while he thought he was imagining them at first, he was eventually certain that footsteps were closing in on him. ¡°Oh, God¡­!¡± Theodore cried. ¡°Please¡­ Please don¡¯t kill me¡­ Beatrice¡­! She¡¯s sick! You¡¯re gonna leave her all alone! She¡¯ll die without me; please, have some heart!¡± Then, a foot landed on his shattered knee. He screamed, shouting wildly as Liam¡¯s foot twisted. ¡°So¡­ you fuckers think I¡¯m one of the cultists, huh?¡± he said, lifting his foot only to bring it down on Theodore¡¯s other knee, which he crushed with absolute ease. ¡°You imbeciles think you¡¯re so goddamn smart¡­ What, the investigation wasn¡¯t enough for you? Not even the best detectives in the empire can compare to you¡­¡± ¡°Please¡­ I¡¯m begging¡ª¡± A foot crashed down right on the bottom of Theodore¡¯s spine, just above his glutes, and a moment later, the feeling in his legs vanished. He screamed harder. ¡°Let me tell you something, Theodore,¡± Liam whispered as he violently pulled the Theodore¡¯s helmet off and grabbed him by the hair, lifting him off the ground. ¡°You bastards are above the law. Had you killed me here, you would have walked away without even a slap on the wrist. Jacob¡¯s daddy would ensure nobody looked too deep into my death, and you¡¯d spend the rest of your life fucking your wife without imagining my face. But guess what?¡± Liam turned Theodore around to come face-to-face with him. Through the burned hole in his helmet, an imperfectly healed face¡ªthe image of a monster¡ªgrinned widely at Theodore. ¡°While you may be above the law, you are not above me. For the same reason you get to do whatever you want, I get to walk away alive.¡± Theodore¡¯s nostrils flared as he struggled to breathe. ¡°Maniac! Help!¡± he tried. ¡°Help me¡ª¡± Liam¡¯s hand wrapped around his mouth to shut him up. Slowly, step by step, Liam dragged Theodore¡¯s thrashing form; they both knew where they were headed. Theodore couldn''t hold back his tears as he felt the heat behind his back. One last time, Liam lifted him into the air. ¡°You said your wife will die without you?¡± He said, snorting and then breaking into an unhinged laugh. ¡°Nah,¡± he said, grinning maniacally. ¡°She¡¯ll move on by the end of the day.¡± That was the last thing he heard before the world started spinning. It didn¡¯t hurt as bad as he thought it would. The pain spiked suddenly, and just as suddenly, it vanished as the darkness consumed the flames flickering through his eyes. *** ¡°Oh, shit!¡± Freddy jumped back as Theodore¡¯s body exploded when subjected to the sudden spike of heat. Moments later, little jaws popped out of the lava and tore his body apart, eating it before it could cook past well done. Soon enough, Jacob and¡­ whoever the other two were¡­ joined the man on his swim. And Jacob¡¯s ring was stashed away in Freddy¡¯s pocket. It was about the same size as the one owned by those two cultists he¡¯d killed¡ªbig enough for a few core items, but not any more than that. ¡°Well then,¡± Freddy said as he sighed and continued slashing away at the spark to heal the rest of the damage. ¡°How fucked am I?¡± It was the same old same old. An unaffiliated two-star shmuck had no business defending himself against such an affluent young master and his goons. Sitting at the shores of a lake of fire and angrily slashing away at the chunk of flesh, he couldn¡¯t help but feel bitter. So bitter. He remembered his expectations of living life as a fighter. Women, money, glory, anything he wanted; as long as he could prove himself, he¡¯d be set to live his life exactly as he wanted. This dream was inspired by what those in power wanted those at the bottom to believe. ¡°Work hard and fight harder¡­¡± he muttered. Once healed, he got up and pulled almost everything out of his storage ring. He raised all the ethertech garbage high and threw it as far into the lake as possible. With that, his storage ring finally had some free space. His mind lingered on the platinum card in the corner of his ring. He chuckled. That would have to wait, it seemed. He took off the most damaged armor pieces and threw them into the lava. With that, he turned around and left the realm as quickly as possible. He gathered what few valuables he had, sat on the first bus that didn¡¯t require an ID, and bought himself a ticket. He didn¡¯t care where he was going. He just had to go far away. Thinking about it, he had never actually seen someone at the third star at any of the hubs. That only meant one thing. By the third star, everyone was either affiliated, retired¡­ Or dead. He had no intention of becoming either of those three things. His plans were grander than that. The bus started and moved forward through the traffic. It was the middle of a rather cold day, but the heating was turned off. The other people were mostly quiet, but there was a couple chatting away at the front. Slowly, the bus moved from one intersection to another, stopping and picking up more passengers as it went. It was out of the city not long after, leaving the man-made horizon behind. He leaned his head against the cold glass and took an even colder look back at the city. He thought he could be different. He believed that minding his own business would be enough. It had always been enough. Stay away from others and you¡¯ll stay away from trouble. That still held true, and he knew it. What happened on that day was a consequence of his own decisions. He thought back to the long days he spent in the interspace, far from people, far from all the stress. Unfortunately, that was a false paradise. Whether he retreated to the deepest corner of the interspace or the biggest city on New Earth, he was always an unlucky day away from death. And he was done lying to himself. Freddy Stern was a shallow person. He wanted wealth. He wanted power. He had lived a life of envy directed at those who sat on the top, and the mere idea of running away just to die from boredom somewhere in a rural shack was an insult directed at the very core of his being. But even when he tried keeping to himself, other people still got in his way. This wasn¡¯t going to be the last time. Throughout all those years, he had really believed that he would be different. In a world of cruelty, where those in power could only be held back by a greater power, he had really believed that he could avoid playing by the rules. He shook his head and chuckled to himself, then covered his face in shame. What a naive little shit he had been. [BOOK THREE START] Chapter 103 - Silver Heart’s Resurrection!? 4 Found Dead! Snow trickled from the overcast, gloomy sky, gathering atop the evergreen branches of tall trees and covering the forest''s surface. It was a quiet November day near a small settlement a week north of Nova York. But deep within the forest, there was a disturbance. There stood a muscular, shirtless man in his underwear, shivering in the frigid snow as his titan grip wrapped around a large rock. Blood trickled down his torso, dying the pearly snow crimson as he slammed the stone in his face over and over. The man extracted a small fleshy blob from a storage ring and started beating it. His face healed with every blow, and not too long after, he crawled to a small nearby pond. His fist crushed the surface layer of ice. He scooped a bit of water with his hands and washed the blood off his face, cursing and shouting at the discomfort the cold was causing him. He¡¯d have thought that with all the suffering he¡¯d gone through, a bit of cold would be no problem, but nope, even with all his pain tolerance, he could barely handle it. His fingers were numb; his body was frigid. While his healing could undo the damage, it couldn¡¯t heat him up. And he¡¯d been out butt naked in the cold for nearly an hour. He used a burst of essence to settle the water into a mirror-like surface and finally took a look at himself. Freddy checked at his healed face and growled in anger as he punched the soil. ¡°It''s too fucking cold for this shit¡­¡± He started his journey out of Nova York a week ago. Since then, he¡¯d been heading straight North. For the most part, his journey had been going just fine. Now, unless he found a way to alter his face, he couldn¡¯t afford to be seen by anyone. Not too far from where he was abusing himself, there was a pile of all his stuff. It was mostly just his clothes, but there was a newspaper on the ground right beside it. Silver Heart¡¯s Resurrection!? 4 Found Dead! That was the title of the front-page article. And right under it was the picture of Freddy¡¯s mugshot from when he was detained for interrogation. A scandalous title; horrific accusations. No, Silver Heart didn¡¯t come back to life. And the murders were self-defense. Apparently, Jacob had told his father something about ¡°Silver Heart transferring his consciousness,¡± and while nobody was actually taking the comment seriously, the newspaper made it seem like Freddy was the reincarnation of Silver Heart himself. But of course they didn¡¯t actually say that! No, they put a fucking question mark at the end! It was a question, not a statement of fact! Unfortunately, the damage had been done. Walking back over to the giant rock, he continued smashing his face in. Then, he healed it again. Once more, he found no difference. ¡°Fuck!¡± he screamed. There was no real reason for him to believe that doing this would help him change his facial structure. He was just desperate. Without Sophia¡¯s help, there was practically nothing he could do to¡ª His eyes shot open slightly. No. There was one thing he could always do. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he called on his trusty companion. ¡°Bloodshed.¡± The ring on his finger shone with a sinister glow, and not long after, his beloved skeleton was out. ¡°What is it, Master?¡± it asked. ¡°We have to go find a construct,¡± he said. ¡°As long as it can manipulate life essence, it will do. We¡¯ll find a way to make it cooperate.¡± Bloodshed nodded and dove into the Netherecho. Their cooperative search lasted for hours. Finding a life-affinity ether construct wasn¡¯t the hard part¡ªfinding one they could convince to help them was the main problem. Eventually, they stumbled upon their desired target. Standing at around 2 feet tall was a red remnant with a head in the shape of a heart. It acted shy, hiding whenever anything looked at it. ¡°Are you going to hurt me?¡± it asked, running to hide behind a nearby tree. ¡°No,¡± Freddy said, talking through his little reaper projection. ¡°I have a deal for you; if you¡¯re willing to do me a favor.¡± The remnant was hesitant. Its concept was that of vitality, not a rare life remnant to see. Freddy made it a simple offer¡ªhe and Bloodshed would supply it with enough ether to turn it into a spirit, and all it had to do in return was help reshape Freddy¡¯s face once able to step into the real world. Unfortunately, sentient ether constructs didn¡¯t really ¡°want¡± to get stronger. Usually, they did so through naturally accumulating ether and building their connection with their core concept. Trying to use something like this as a bargaining chip didn¡¯t really work unless offered in an incredibly roundabout way. Thus, he didn¡¯t really offer to turn it into a spirit; Freddy simply offered to give it a chance to interact with a great source of vitality¡ªFreddy¡¯s body, to be exact. It was incredibly hesitant, but after repeated coaxing, Freddy finally managed to phrase the offer in a way that pleased it. However, before the remnant agreed, Freddy had to prove that he could heal from any damage that Vitality might inadvertently do because it simply wouldn¡¯t agree to cause harm of any kind. Feeding a remnant enough ether to turn it into a spirit wasn¡¯t an easy task. Not only did it take a lot of ether, but it also required a degree of connection to their concept. Thankfully, the presence of Freddy¡¯s body, which was bursting with vitality, was more than enough of a push. Within just three hours, Vitality stood in the real world, guiding its power to reconstruct Freddy¡¯s facial features. Many people went after spirits to try forging deals with them, most often related to healing. Naturally, that was a batshit insane healthcare option reserved for the most desperate people society had to offer, and Freddy wouldn¡¯t dare try it without Bloodshed¡¯s protection. Vitality did a pretty decent job, all things told. Sure, Freddy looked like one hell of an ugly motherfucker, but after a round of healing, his features were corrected, settling on a brand new face. With trepidation, he looked at the final result. Standing over the small pond, he took a look at himself. He threw up into the water. The change caused by his ascension was one thing. While it did change his looks substantially, it was in a way that felt rather natural. His face still felt familiar, just prettier. This was different. It was like looking into a complete stranger''s eyes. And there was no way to revert the change now that it was done. This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. After finally gathering the bravery, he finally took another look at himself. His brow was much harder now, with a permanent frown chiseled into his forehead. His already somewhat intimidating gaze was now threatening, with tall cheekbones, a sharp nose, and a jawline that made him look like he could drink concrete through a straw. Combined with his intimidating stature, it made him look genuinely horrifying. If he saw himself out on the street at night, he¡¯d probably run the other way. He wouldn¡¯t call himself ugly by any means, but he was certainly less beautiful now. His rugged, excessively masculine look was still handsome, though. He would eventually come to terms with it. There was no time to ponder the body horror he had just experienced. It was time to get moving. He put his clothes back on. Unfortunately, he hadn¡¯t yet purchased clothing appropriate for this weather. The short-sleeve white T-shirt and blue jeans were way too thin. By the time he finished his hike back to the nearby town, his skin was blue from the cold. For the time being, he was safe. Nobody would recognize him. That being said, he was still in trouble. He needed a new ID, and pulling the same trick as last time would be much more difficult, given that he was at the peak of his second star. The first thing he did was walk into a cafe and order a warm drink. It was a nice little place, with decor on the modern side, and plenty of young folk sitting around. The waiter looked at him asconce, probably thinking something along the lines of ¡°What kind of motherfucker wears shit like that in this weather?¡± To be fair, he absolutely looked like someone who would go out in the snow wearing cargo shorts and a wife beater. Hell, he looked like he¡¯d put rusty nails in his shoes just to make sure he was never comfortable. With a cup of warm coffee in his hand, he finally felt relaxed enough to think straight. What were his options? His first cup of joe went down a bit too quickly, so he ordered a second one. Before long, that one was gone, too. By his fifth caffeine shot, it was no longer relaxing him. Frankly, his situation was roughly a million times worse than the last time he needed an ID. What was he going to say, ¡°Oh, I waited until I was a peak two-star to update my ID¡±? For most folk, it took twenty years on average to get from the bottom to the peak of the second star. In ordinary circumstances, his ID would have expired long before he made it this far. There was no way to avoid a thorough background check if he tried pulling that off. His only real option was to get a two-star ID and then¡­ get plastic surgery, maybe? That could theoretically work, but if he wanted that surgery to be recorded, he needed to offer an ID, leaving him in a Catch-22 situation. Besides, just the mere act of getting plastic surgery would probably put him on some sort of watchlist. ¡°Wait¡­¡± Could he¡­ Could he try to register as Freddy Stern? That sounded like a god-awful idea. He lacked proof that he was¡­ well¡­ himself, and he absolutely didn¡¯t want the Kraven Clan to catch wind of him. Sighing, he buried his face in his palms. How was he going to get out of this one? As soon as he had the thought, the cafe''s doors opened, and three police officers stepped in. They all wore heavy uniforms, and from a cursory inspection, they were one-stars, meaning that they were in the civilian division. For a brief moment, he saw one of them elbow another and nod in Freddy¡¯s direction, to which the other two officers looked over at him. They kept a hard gaze on him for a few moments but wisely decided to leave him alone. They sat at the bar, and Freddy finally relaxed. For the time being, he was stuck. He watched the steam rise from the coffee before him. The steam gradally weakened as the coffee cooled down. The sound of the people sitting around in the cafe filled his ears, meanwhile, the inside of his mind was mostly silent. He took a sip, breathed out, and slowly learned back. There was one option he hadn¡¯t considered. It was a bit desperate, and if he went down that path, he would have to dedicate himself to many years of compromise. The area on the border between the American Empire and the Frozen Wastes was known as quite problematic. The Northern Spine mountain range that ran across the entire length of what used to be Canada had for a long time acted as the empire¡¯s border. Tragically, most of the Canadian people, especially those who got caught on the other side of the Northern Spine, died in the extremely harsh conditions of the early post-Rift era. But a small number of them survived. With time, they were joined by people coming from the empire. However, the newcomers weren¡¯t there because they enjoyed the idea of living in a frozen hellscape with a number of life-threatening dangers. The people who went there were those who wanted a bit less oversight by the empire. With time, that population kept growing, eventually giving birth to the Northern Belt¡ªa border area notorious for crime and internal conflict. Usually, such areas would be struck down by the empire. But this was a special case. The Frozen Wastes were a truly massive area, connecting all the way across the Arctic to the Eurasian continent. Needless to say, the number of wild passages scattered through this place was practically uncountable. Thus, there was a near-constant trickle of monsters migrating toward the American Empire. The Northern Spine mountain range was a natural barrier against these monsters, but it didn¡¯t hurt having settlements on the other side. And while a government-sponsored criminal utopia sounded like an awful idea for any country, its existence was a net positive for the rest of the empire. How? Easy enough. Going to the Northern Belt was a simple ordeal. They let anyone who wanted to go there through no problem. Of course, as long as they had a valid ID and weren¡¯t actively trying to escape legal trouble. The main issue was coming back from there. It was a trap, basically. Why chase after people with criminal tendencies when it was so much easier to bait them to a place away from society at large? It seemed like a good deal, but there were plenty of non-criminals who were just trying to survive over there, too. They were the ones paying the price for this compromise. While it would no doubt be easy to find a corrupt government office or two in the Northern Belt, moving to live there was something Freddy didn¡¯t want to do. Or¡­ Or did he? There was one thing that the Northern Belt was also notorious for¡ªthere were practically no Lords living there. Everyone who made it to the fourth star was almost immediately recruited by the empire and brought back, most likely as a countermeasure against those who might plot a coup or try to become independent from the empire. While going there would no doubt be a surefire way to get himself into trouble, wasn¡¯t it kind of an upgrade compared to most other places? At the very least, he wouldn¡¯t have to be afraid of a Lord coming after him. Three-stars were by no means easy opponents, but he wasn¡¯t that far from getting to the third star himself. At that point, wouldn¡¯t he be the safest in a place without four-stars? A big pro for sure, but there was a massive con¡ªthat place fucking sucked. Even without the shitty people, there was always the endless stretch of land crawling with horrors that were probably even worse. Sighing, he got up, paid his bill, and walked out into the cold afternoon. He was in a rather small town, so there were no huge buildings blotting out the sky. The pale, depressing white of the cold expanse above shone down on him with an uncaring light, doing nothing to ease his dilemma. What did he want? He wanted a good life. He wanted fun. He wanted to become rich and famous. If there was one thing he¡¯d learned, it was that this life wouldn¡¯t come cheap. He had to fight for it and make sacrifices. He caught a glance of his new face in the window of a small shop. It was sickening. To think it had been that easy to just¡­ become someone else. But then again, wasn¡¯t that proof of his resolve? Casting away his face was something that hurt him more than he expected, but it was also a move that saved him a lot of trouble. It was a sacrifice that came with benefits. A payment that covered the cost of freedom. Sighing again, he shriveled up and put his hands in his pocket. ¡°God, it¡¯s so fucking cold!¡± Just that alone was almost enough to dissuade him from going anywhere where he had to tolerate weather like this. For the time being, he didn¡¯t have to make a choice. There were at least a hundred settlements between where he was and the Northern Belt. Maybe, just maybe, something along the trip would pop up and solve his problem for him. He spent the rest of that day walking around and finding places to stay warm until his next bus arrived. Then, when the bus was there, he boarded it and traveled to the next town. Over and over, he looked for places to stay warm and tried sniffing out a solution for his issue. And with every new stop, the more certain he became. The days of travel became weeks of travel. The winter became more bitterly cold, but with time and a lot of Adaptive Water Body use, he finally started to kind of tolerate it. And after a month and a half of living on the road, he finally spotted the horizon-shaping chain of gigantic mountains. Without an ID, there was only one way he was getting to the other side. He left the final bus and couldn¡¯t stop a smirk from quirking up his lips. ¡°Man, I hope the damn army doesn¡¯t catch me.¡± There was a small shopping trip to get out of the way, but as soon as he was done, he had no more reasons to stay in the empire proper. Once done with that, well¡­ It was time for a mountain hike. Chapter 104 - Hike Freddy knew that crossing the Northern Spine mountain range would be a challenge. But boy did he underestimate it. Before he even set off on his journey, he got some clothing more appropriate for the weather and filled whatever space there was in his dimension ring with bottles of oil. Oil was both the densest in terms of calories and the cheapest source of food, allowing him to stockpile enough calories to last him over a month. There was no way for him to possibly run out. Right? The human mind was terrible at judging scale past a certain point. Obviously, the mountain range was quite far, but how far could it possibly be? A day of walking, maybe two? It took him 24 days of hiking just to reach the base of the mountain range. During just those 24 days, he experienced so much suffering that, by the end, he was plagued by constant thoughts of giving up and turning around. He thought he knew what it meant to be pushed mentally and physically. He had been woefully ignorant of just how much worse it could get. First, eating nothing but oil was a terrible idea; his talent couldn¡¯t heal the explosive diarrhea out of him. At one point, he started snacking on tree bark to give at least some solidity to his stool. Some solidity he got, as well as a week of constipated agony that nearly made him physically tear the solid chunk of wood out of his stomach. While he had spectacularly misjudged the distance, that wasn¡¯t the only reason his journey took so long. The real issue was the snow, which ranged from knee-high at the shallowest to deep enough to fully sink into. Adding his incredible weight to the equation only made the situation worse. He had expected to run into animals, but that only happened once when surrounded by a pack of hungry wolves. He took care of them quickly enough. It was so damn hard to catch even a blink of sleep. The wind knocked him out of tall trees, and he would wake up buried in the snow if he tried sleeping on the ground. The despair drove him to get desperate, and eventually, he figured out somewhat of a solution. If he carved out a small space in the deeper parts of the snow, where it was packed enough to keep its shape, he could stay relatively warm and catch some rest. But this wasn¡¯t a perfect solution. Around two weeks in, an extreme rainstorm struck, and he woke up with a flood of freezing water washing over him. His talent couldn¡¯t heal the cold away. Not even his undeath could save him if he was frozen solid. His brain would be destroyed by the formation of ice crystals. Needless to say, having to suddenly do panicked jumping jacks in the dead of night in the slushy snow while frigid rain bathed him¡ªjust to stay warm enough not to die¡ªdidn¡¯t do any favors to his mental state. Just when he thought nothing else could catch him off guard, something utterly bizarre happened¡ªhe suddenly grew a full beard. It was impossible to describe his confusion once he first noticed the layer of thick stubble. What the fuck could possibly cause that!? He wasn¡¯t a hairy guy. Not even his private area was all that bushy. Suddenly finding himself growing not only a beard but thick hair all across his body was a surprise, to say the least. Did he pass some sort of sharp threshold in biological age? Did the cold do this somehow? Did his new face alter his psychological state so much it was reflecting on his body? Maybe a late reaction to Vitality¡¯s influence? Eventually, after much pondering, he believed he knew what was causing this¡ªit was the Adaptive Water Body technique. Adaptive Water Body worked in mysterious ways. Its effect was mild but broad. It could help him adapt to new circumstances by affecting the way water moved in his body, and because it helped with the cold, he used it liberally. It likely transported extra nutrients to his hair follicles to help him cope with the intense cold. Frankly, it didn¡¯t really help much. He always wanted some facial hair, so he didn¡¯t mind the beard¡­ but the rest of it? He was becoming one bushy motherfucker. Especially down there. Throughout his path to the mountain, his food reserves were rapidly dwindling. He had vastly underestimated the number of calories he would be spending. When he finally found himself standing at the foot of the mountain 24 days in, he had already used 80 percent of the oil. He would have to hunt for food from that point. Thankfully, some animals were around, mostly winter birds, that he felt relatively confident in catching. It would be great practice for his latent Hydraulic Throw. While he missed more times than he¡¯d like to admit, he eventually caught a giant eagle. Thankfully, he had a lighter, so he could at least cook his food. It was still pure ass¡ªit was gamy and tough as leather. But it kept him going. With his willpower at its limits, he decided to spend a few days in a nearby cave just to relax and let himself rest. His talent kept him physically well, but it could only do so much for his mental state. He kept hunting and drying meat to stock up on food during this time. He had no idea whether he was drying it properly, but even if it went bad in his ring, he wasn¡¯t going to die of food poisoning. It didn¡¯t take long for him to continue his journey. Looking up from the mountain''s base, it was tough to estimate how far up he¡¯d have to climb. It didn¡¯t seem that bad, but he knew better than to expect it to be easy. Yet still, his journey up was more hellish than he anticipated. First, going uphill was obviously harder. The further up he went, the more the slopes turned into sheer cliffs, which were, to add insult to injury, glazed over with a sheet of solid ice, likely from the recent rainfall. He tried avoiding the cliffs and going up the slopes instead. Terrible idea. The first avalanche he got caught in nearly ended him right then and there. Banged up and buried under tons of snow that had packed into solid ice, he had to rely on his superior strength and makeshift tools of blood to pull himself out, and it still took him nearly half a day of digging to make it back to the surface. On his second attempt, he went up the cliffs. Terrible idea. The sheet of ice made the climb miserable, and his makeshift blood tools kept breaking. His first dozen attempts all ended in him tumbling down a sharp decline; he could only survive due to his impressive resilience. But even then, bones got broken and the internal bleeding was enough to dye half his body blue. He had been under the impression that the imperial army would be his biggest problem. Little did he know, the army had no reason to scout the mountains. They were, all on their own, more than enough to stop people from going back and forth. But Freddy wasn¡¯t just anyone. Every time he caught a glimpse of himself in the fragile ice, he felt his resolve thicken. It was incredible how much of an impact a superficial change in appearance could make on his mental strength. He was a man. And he felt like a man, more than ever before. And just like a man, he would suppress all the bad emotions and push through what was probably unnecessary suffering because his pride was too inflated to look for alternatives. He kept climbing and falling. Eventually, he got good enough to climb more than he fell. His clothes were starting to seriously deteriorate. Thankfully, he hadn¡¯t skimped out on proper footwear, otherwise his soles would have been scraped off by that point. But the rest of his clothing wasn¡¯t doing so well. He kept having to patch it up, and if this continued, he feared he¡¯d reach his goal naked. The only spare set of clothing he had was far too thin to keep him warm. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. A week in, the second avalanche he was caught in pretty much wholly reset his progress, and yet again, he wasted hours digging himself out. But he got back up and kept going. More time passed. The winter was getting harsher. Sleeping on the mountain''s slopes was even more challenging than in the forest. But the more time he spent there, the more resourceful he got. After two more weeks of climbing, he was around halfway up the mountain. Another two weeks later, he was close to the peak. The air was getting thinner. Breathing was becoming more difficult. It was fucking freezing. But he kept going. On some days, the snow prevented him from seeing further than a handful of meters away, but on others, the sky cleared, and he could see the endless expanse around him. Few people really understood what it meant for the planet to be so massive. Getting up on a high vantage point meant that Freddy could see all the way to Nova York¡ªeven far out into the ocean. Everything got kinda blue after a while, and it was hard telling features apart; still, a miracle to behold. Places where it was sunny, places where it was cloudy¡ªstormy, with its mighty thunder looking like nothing but the flickers of static from this far away. Settlements so tiny they barely stood out from the never-ending wilderness around them. Mountains so tall they made even the one he was currently climbing seem pathetic in comparison. He was running low on food, but he hoped that going down would be far faster once he was over the peak. One small problem, though¡ªgoing over the peak was practically impossible. At first glance, there seemed to be so many obvious paths he could take to get to the other side. So many places looked like valleys from a distance, but up close, there was always a steep bridge no matter where he went. And he always encountered the same problem¡ªthe wind licking across the very peaks of the mountain range was impossible to overcome. The speeds at which it was blowing were so dreadful that he simply couldn¡¯t remain attached to the surface, no matter how hard he tried. And it couldn¡¯t blow him across to the other side because the wind couldn¡¯t carry him. It just detached him from the stone and sent him tumbling down. There were a few areas that really looked like it should be easy peasy, but nope. It just never was. And this wasn¡¯t due to a lack of strength, either. He could hold on to the stone¡ªthe stone just couldn¡¯t hold on to the rest of the mountain. He could alleviate this issue by taking it really slow, but the winds were dreadfully icy, so cold that his eyes froze, blinding him and making it impossible to see where he was going. He tried waiting for the wind to stop, but it just wouldn¡¯t, almost as if there was a constant stream that specifically moved across the top of the mountain range, from the east to west, a neverending current of frosty gale. At some points, it almost felt like the entire Northern Spine was deliberately designed to be as impassable as possible. But it seemed like it shouldn¡¯t be that big of a deal. There should be a simple way he wasn¡¯t thinking of. Just another day of waiting, and a solution would reveal itself. However, the longer the search dragged on, the more he lost hope. This high up, there were no animals to hunt. There were no plants to forage. He was running out of food, and given how desperately the cells in his body were working to stop him from freezing to death, he needed a lot of calories to stay alive. As he walked along the edge of greatness, despair settled in his heart. The mirage of salvation was all too vivid for him to come to terms with the final obstacle. Just when he thought he had no choice but to turn around, a miracle appeared. He found a passage. Not over the mountain, but into the interspace. There was one somewhat insane idea he could try. There was just a small problem with it¡ªfailure meant death. Still, with all the resolve he could muster, he delved into the wild passage. Thankfully, it was filled with relatively weak monsters. The mountain range, and the areas around it, were an ether desert, with very few passages to be found, and the realms those passages took to weren¡¯t all that rich in ether, either. After slaughtering a whole army of tiny, sheep-like monsters, he collected a decent pool of blood. He stashed a couple of bodies for food, then he returned outside and used Blood Sacrifice. A four-meter-tall Bloodshed appeared on the peak of the mountain. It picked Freddy up and raised him high. Then, using all the power it had, it threw him over the peak. As soon as he reached the intense current, his trajectory sharply skewed westward, and the frigid winds froze the whole surface of his body, rapidly draining him of heat and turning his skin into a shell of solid ice. He kept accelerating sideways, and if it weren¡¯t for his abnormal body density, he would have likely kept getting dragged along with the stream of wind. He slammed into the slopes, his skin cracking apart like an eggshell and scattering as he rolled downhill, tumbling until he finally escaped the icy clutch of the peak¡¯s stream. He was paralyzed. His skin, ear drums, and eyes were severely damaged, leaving him without any feeling in his body other the stony grasp of bone-chilling cold. His released the blood stored in the depths of his Pool of Blood, moving it through his limbs to thaw his body, and eventually, he recovered enough to move and start the healing process. Once his eyes finally melted and reformed into usable sensory organs, he felt a semblance of relief. He had made it to the other side of the mountain. But it was a cloudy day, and the fog made it hard to see down the Northern Belt. But as he slowly made his way down, the clouds scattered, giving him a clear view. It was the middle of the day, but the sun was just barely reaching his back over the tall peaks behind him. He slowly lowered himself and sat into the snow as he took a deep breath and scouted the path before him. It was very different from looking down south. Once again, he found his breath taken away, but rather than pure awe, the sight inspired a feeling of anxiety and insignificance. And a deep, primal fear. Tall, jagged mountains were scattered throughout the whole horizon, with snow and ice covering every inch that he could see, barring a bit of ocean he spotted far to the east. He couldn¡¯t tell where the Northern Belt ended and where the Frozen Wastes began, but given how much more mountainous the region became the further out he looked, he estimated that the furthest point he could see was unfathomably distant from any human settlements. ¡°Wow¡­¡± he muttered unwittingly, swallowing hard at the thought of what might be living there. The region right beside the Northern Belt was poor in ether, but the closer one went to the center of the Frozen Wastes, the thicker it became. Even five-stars would struggle to reach all the way to the center. There were stories of giant monsters¡ªpowers that could threaten the most valiant of mankind¡¯s defenders¡ªliving deep in the Frozen Wastes. The only thing that kept them from coming this way was the poor ether density and low quality of prey. Shaking his head, he took his thoughts off such subjects and focused on the area close to the base of the mountain. From what he could see, there was quite a trek to the nearest settlement, but with the goal finally in sight, he felt his spirits rise and his legs tremble in excitement. Thankfully for him, it was much easier to tumble down the side of a mountain than it was to climb up. By the end of the next day, he was eating wolf meat at the base. After another two weeks, which felt like a vacation compared to what he had gone through before, he finally stepped on an asphalt road. He immediately fell to his knees and broke down, weeping tears of pure joy. He hadn¡¯t been keeping an exact track of days, but that had taken ages to finish, roughly around three months. Three fucking months. He thought it would take days. Now that he was so close to civilization, he finally allowed himself to relax a bit. Soon enough, it would all be over. But actually, it took him another week of walking to get to the closest settlement. Throughout that time, not even a single vehicle passed the road he was on, which likely meant this was a path that took through the border, which he now guessed had to go through a tunnel or something. The roads were thankfully inscribed with simple runes that kept the snow off, sparing him having to wade through more of that white shit. After finally reaching a settlement, he was relieved but also somewhat perturbed. He got a peek into the town from a nearby forest, and what he saw shocked him. The streets were relatively well maintained. The buildings looked new and clean. There were kids with backpacks walking around. For moment, he thought he might have accidentally swapped directions and gone the wrong way, but that obviously wasn¡¯t the case. This place looked so ordinary. He didn¡¯t know what he expected, but kids going to school alone wasn¡¯t high on the list. From the rumors, he expected to enter a lawless zone of rampant banditry, but the stories were likely more than a little exaggerated. And that made sense. People had been living here for a long time; just because there was a lot of crime, that didn¡¯t mean that it was a freakin¡¯ anarchy. And that posed a problem. His clothes were in absolute tatters. Holes and tears were present in every article, and wire made of his own blood was the only thing keeping it all together. He smelled like shit. Add the messy beard and long hair, and he looked like an absolute hobo. He had a change of clothes in the storage ring. It was the jeans and white T-shirt. He had no shampoo, but he could create some water and wash the gunk off his body. So he did that. He was about to throw the tattered clothes away, but his little skeleton companion interrupted him. ¡°Don¡¯t throw the clothes away,¡± Bloodshed said. ¡°Huh? Why not?¡± ¡°Check the Netherecho.¡± With a raised eyebrow, Freddy complied. What he saw there shocked him. His clothes had turned into a bona fide cursed item. It wasn¡¯t fully formed, however. It had merely accumulated a lot of aura, mostly of frost and water ether. At this point, it was just a raw material that still had to be processed to become a true cursed item. ¡°Holy shit,¡± he said as he chuckled. ¡°At least I got something for all that work. Thanks for telling me, chief, I¡¯d have never thought to look.¡± ¡°I live to serve you, Master.¡± ¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± he said with a chuckle. ¡°I love you too.¡± While his hair and beard were still messy, he could only make them look worse by cutting them himself. After an extra round of washing and pulling out random chunks of debris, he looked clean enough. With a final look at himself on a polished ice surface, he scoffed. Hairy, bulky, and honestly kind of scary. What a different person he had become. Chapter 105 - Northern Belt Freddy left the barber shop, finally feeling like a civilized person again. His unruly mess of a beard was now sharp and angular, and his long, gunky hair was now tamed into a moderately wavy curtain stretching just past his neck and resting upon his shoulders. He quite liked having longer hair. He¡¯d spent most of his life with a hairstyle similar to this. And now, it felt like the only part of ¡°him¡± that remained. He was wearing a new brown jacket, gray sweatpants, and a rainbow sweater, together with a cute scarf wrapped around his neck and soft gloves to keep his hands warm and rings hidden. It was quite hard finding clothes that fit him. Every article he was currently wearing was a bit tight here and there, but he hadn¡¯t seen a tailor to manually adjust it yet. While his initial impression of this town was that it wasn¡¯t the outlaw dystopia he had expected to see, its ugly interior still showed at a closer look. It was subtle. There were no corpses on the street or broken windows everywhere. But the cats were hostile. His adopted mother once said that places were best judged by how friendly the cats were. On his walk through the town, he had only seen two cats: one with a broken tail and the other missing an eye. Both fled at the sight of him. Everyone he came across was armed. Even seemingly ordinary elderly office ladies had a metal baton strapped to their waist. Nobody greeted one another. Nobody even looked at one another, despite the constant feeling that everyone there was highly aware of their surroundings. He knew how much he stood out. Yet nobody even glanced at him. They sped up when he turned to face them, so they did pay attention to him. But direct gazes were absent, almost like they were taboo in these parts. Even the kids he¡¯d seen had these small devices on their hips that he hadn¡¯t noticed. Those were small alarms. While Nova York had been teeming with cars, this place was far from widespread adoption of such etherology. Carriages still dominated here, mostly pulled by feathered drakes. The creatures looked like big chickens, which was kind of funny, but their beaks full of serrated teeth weren¡¯t a joke. He¡¯d been hoping to sit down for some coffee somewhere, but relaxed cafes weren¡¯t a thing here. There were only bars. And of the loud, stinky kind. Other than that, there were gambling dens pretty much everywhere he looked, as well as a number of strip clubs. He hated such places. Still, he had to start somewhere. Thus, he picked the nearest regular bar he could find and walked inside. When he opened the door and stepped inside, half the people there went quiet and looked him over. Only men were present inside, and it was obvious that they clothed and styled themselves to look dangerous, or tough at least. Tattoos, shaven heads and eyebrows, scars, and frowns permanently etched into their brows. The bar itself was a rustic, cozy place, with wooden furniture and surprisingly nice wall decor. A keen eye spotted the subtle damage across the walls and signs of repair. To his surprise, a notable percentage of the clientele were one-stars. They didn¡¯t mix with the mortals and mostly occupied corner tables. There were 9 such people there. That didn¡¯t seem like many, but that was 9 more than he expected to find. Archhumans were not commonly found in mortal places. Freddy was cloaking his star, meaning that most of them would presume him to be a mortal, but he could tell that some of the ascended were giving him squinted stares. One of them¡ªa heavily tattooed man¡ªwas glaring at him particularly hard. The man was onto him, likely presuming that Freddy was either a two-star or a cloaked one-star. No more than ten seconds later, most of them lost interest and went back to talking and drinking. Freddy eyed the place, looking for empty tables. There were none, so he shuffled to the bar and sat there instead. ¡°What¡¯ll it be?¡± the bartender asked. ¡°A beer,¡± he said. Frankly, Freddy never understood the love for beer. To him, it just tasted like piss. But for some strange reason, he felt a powerful aversion to ordering anything else. A man like him just had to get a beer. It was practically the law. Either that or whiskey. The choice quickly proved to be a shitty one. Yup, tastes like ass. But he bore with it, gulping the drink as if it were heavenly dew. Once done, he ordered coffee. The bartender handed it over a few minutes later. ¡°Here you go, man.¡± ¡°Thanks,¡± Freddy said as he took a sip. It was bitter, tasting of unwashed equipment, sloppy preparation, and old beans. But to him, who hadn¡¯t had coffee in months, it was like the water from the fountain of youth. To a complete lack of surprise on Freddy¡¯s part, a one-star aura got up from one of the chairs and moseyed on over to him. ¡°Hey,¡± a man''s voice called from Freddy¡¯s side. He turned to face the man who was taking a seat next to him. It was the heavily tattooed guy. ¡°Hey there,¡± Freddy greeted the man. ¡°Is there something you need from me?¡± ¡°You¡¯re not from around here, are you?¡± the man asked, clearly already knowing the answer. ¡°What¡¯s it got to do with you?¡± Freddy asked. ¡°Nothing with me,¡± the man said. ¡°But if you¡¯re looking for work around here as an archhuman, you¡¯ll have to talk to my boss first.¡± ¡°Excuse me?¡± ¡°You heard me, big guy,¡± the man shot back with a sneer. ¡°And your size don¡¯t fool me. Don¡¯t try playing tough,¡± he added. ¡°That gay-ass scarf and pearly skin, I know you ain¡¯t seen real danger.¡± ¡°Got me there,¡± Freddy said, raising his hands in surrender. ¡°I¡¯m no fighter,¡± he lied. ¡°So tell me, who is this boss of yours? I¡¯d be glad to get myself sorted. I just crossed the border earlier today, and if you got work for me, I¡¯d be glad to talk.¡± ¡°You a smart guy,¡± the man said, poking Freddy¡¯s cheek playfully. ¡°I¡¯ll treat you to a round first. You don¡¯t have to worry. We¡¯re good to our men.¡± Before Freddy could ask for another cup of coffee, the man ordered them two beers. Freddy¡¯s eye twitched at that. After finishing their drinks, Freddy followed the man outside. They walked a bit, eventually reaching an office building and stepping inside. For the most part, the place looked like a business office. People sat around in cubicles doing paperwork. Nobody as much as acknowledged their existence, simply staying out of the way as Freddy and his inky friend made their way to the elevator and up to the top floor. The upper floor was quite fancy. Comparing the size of the building from the outside and the size of the space he was in made it evident that some space dilation was in play. For the most part, the space was a blend of tasteless upper-class decor and sterile office space¡ªbland beige color scheme, abstract ¡°art,¡± plastic plants, and so on. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. On the far end of the room sat a man before a giant desk, talking on a device and nodding to himself. He was big; well, fat. His hair was cut short and tidy, and while chubby, his face wasn¡¯t ugly. The man wore a standard black suit, and while he didn¡¯t look ¡°dangerous¡± per se, there was something about him. For some reason, he reminded Freddy of the nastiest type of customer he used to run into when working as a cashier¡ªentitled, bossy, and used to getting their way wherever they went. The man was a peak two-star, just like Freddy himself. And while he was absorbed in the conversation, it was easy to tell that he had already noticed Freddy enter the room. When Freddy and Inky reached the desk, the man was done with his talk. As soon as he put the crystal down, he got up with a broad smile. ¡°James, my beloved! Who have you brought me today!?¡± he spewed with saccharine joy while walking around the desk to give Freddy a double-handed handshake. ¡°I am positively thrilled to meet you, good sir. I¡¯m Jeffrey.¡± Inky was a bit confused at this point. Perhaps he hadn¡¯t expected his boss to treat Freddy so nicely. ¡°I¡¯ll see you later, James,¡± the boss told the man. ¡°I¡¯d like to talk to this man in private.¡± The man, still frowning, turned around and walked out of the room. The boss walked back to his seat and got comfortable. ¡°So¡­ You have a name?¡± Freddy racked his mind for a random name for a few seconds and said. ¡°I¡¯m Mike.¡± ¡°Absolutely lovely to meet you, Mike,¡± the man cheered. ¡°I see you¡¯ve tolerated my subordinate. I already know he must have been sorely rude¡ª¡± ¡°No worries,¡± Freddy said. ¡°I¡¯m keeping myself hidden for a reason. He was just doing his job; no need to throw blame at anyone.¡± ¡°Ah,¡± the man said, nodding. ¡°Good, good. Still, sorry about that. I wouldn¡¯t want you to get the wrong impression of me.¡± ¡°Not at all, good sir,¡± Freddy said. ¡°These lands are no joke. If anything, I¡¯m truly impressed that you¡¯d go so far out of your way to guide newcomers.¡± ¡°So you¡¯re new to the Belt, I see! And yes, yes, of course!¡± the man shouted. ¡°These wretched lands have no mercy for anyone! I would hate to see someone of merit like yourself walk into trouble!¡± ¡°Indeed. I¡¯m overjoyed to receive such a welcome.¡± A moment of awkward silence settled between them. ¡°So¡­¡± The man tapped a finger to the table. ¡°I¡¯m all ears, Mike. What do you need?¡± Freddy shrugged. ¡°You seem like an upstanding gentleman, Jeffrey. If I were to share a secret of mine, I presume it would stay between us?¡± ¡°Obviously!¡± the man insisted. ¡°Honor has always been my first priority. But I am a businessman, Mike. If you need my aid, I am¡­ of course, expecting to be compensated.¡± ¡°That goes without saying, good man!¡± Freddy said, spreading his arms out. ¡°And yes, I do have a request.¡± ¡°Shoot. I¡¯m listening.¡± ¡°You see, I got myself into a bit of trouble. I¡¯m not a fighter, as you probably noticed already.¡± ¡°Mhmm, yes,¡± the man confirmed. He hadn¡¯t aimed to clothe himself like someone who didn¡¯t fight for a living, but it seemed that his choice of style, coupled with his rather nice skin, gave people the wrong idea. ¡°You see, I¡¯m going to have to settle in these parts for a while,¡± Freddy said with a mock sad expression. ¡°I made enemies with people I shouldn¡¯t have offended, and now, I need sanctuary.¡± The man quirked an eyebrow. ¡°Legal trouble?¡± ¡°Not quite,¡± Freddy said. ¡°But this person does have ties with the government.¡± A glint flashed in the man¡¯s eye, and he leaned forward, resting his mouth on his crossed arms. ¡°So you want protection?¡± ¡°A job,¡± Freddy corrected. ¡°I¡¯d prefer to be of use. Although I would like some help with paperwork. I fear that my old ID can be used to track me down.¡± The man scoffed. ¡°There will be no problem with getting a new ID here, but it will only be of use in the Northern Belt. Unless you can reach the peak of the third star, you won¡¯t be allowed to leave this part of the empire with an ID you get here.¡± The man corrected his posture a bit. ¡°Naturally, the way you¡¯d get a new ID with my help isn¡¯t exactly¡­ by the papers, as they say.¡± The man laughed. ¡°Just be warned it comes with risks.¡± ¡°I expect as much.¡± ¡°That aside¡­¡± the man started, leaning back and sucking air through his teeth, then slowly breathing it out. ¡°This is a big favor you¡¯re asking for, good man. Are you prepared to work and pay it back?¡± ¡°Naturally.¡± ¡°Well, what can you do for me?¡± the man asked. ¡°If you don¡¯t mind, I¡¯d like to conduct a brief interview.¡± ¡°Sure thing.¡± The man proceeded to question Freddy about his talent and previous occupation. Naturally, Freddy lied but kept the story close to the truth. He said that his talent was a strength-boosting one. Technically, that counted as a combat talent, but how talents were sorted was a bit arbitrary. If it could be used in any way to fight, a talent could be classified as a combat talent. Many non-combat talents could ¡°technically¡± be used in combat and vice versa. As such, he declared that he had a strength talent and that he used to work at a warehouse where he sorted heavy industrial materials. It wasn¡¯t the best lie he¡¯d ever told, but he said it convincingly enough. He knew enough about warehouse labor to sneak a detail or two in to help sell the story. ¡°Hmmm¡­¡± the man hummed as he scrutinized Freddy¡¯s face. ¡°A strength talent¡­ I have to be honest with you; our primary business doesn¡¯t really have much of a need for musclemen like you. We¡¯re mostly in the sphere of, uh¡­ real estate and business management.¡± And here comes the ¡®but¡­¡¯ ¡°But,¡± the man said, ¡°I would be more than glad to welcome you on board as a bodyguard.¡± Freddy faked looking torn for a long second. Obviously, a delicate, peace-loving man such as himself was far too fragile for work like that. ¡°Don¡¯t get the wrong message,¡± the man rushed to add. ¡°This will rarely, if ever, require you to actually get into a physical fight. Just flash your star at any troublemaker, and that will be more than enough to scare trouble away. We¡¯d be glad to offer some training if you want to be able to fight effectively.¡± He maintained the torn look for another few seconds and then finally sighed dramatically, deciding that he ¡°didn¡¯t really have a choice¡± or whatever the sleazy businessman assumed was happening. ¡°All right,¡± Freddy said, forcing a smile and nodding. ¡°I hope you are being honest about the risks, good man.¡± ¡°Me? Of course!¡± he spat with a laugh. ¡°I¡¯m not one to spout lies!¡± ¡°I will take your word for it,¡± Freddy said. ¡°You seem like a stellar guy.¡± The rest of the deal proceeded smoothly. Freddy signed a contract for a six-month period where he would work as a bodyguard for $40,000 a month, which wasn¡¯t bad for such a position. But, well, that wasn¡¯t really the type of money a peak two-star would usually be paid. It was far too little for that. Still, that wasn¡¯t the reason why Freddy was getting a job. He carefully checked every clause in the contract, and to his surprise, it was pretty fair. At the very least, this man knew he shouldn¡¯t push the terms when employing a man like Freddy. As soon as he was signed, the man personally escorted him to have a fresh ID forged for him. The corruption was hilariously open. He¡¯d have thought that at least the first town past the border wouldn¡¯t be this outwardly corrupt. He was asked what name he wanted to write down on the ID. Numerous possibilities flashed through his mind: Mark, Jonas, James, John, Pete, Frank, Joe¡ªthe possibilities were endless. So he settled on Freddy. Freddy Cliff, 47 years old. That was old enough that his gathering wouldn¡¯t appear to be too prodigious. So much about him had changed throughout the past two years. Now that he was left with nothing but his hairstyle as a reminder of the person he used to be, he realized just how much the loss of identity pained him. His name was Freddy. And why should he choose a different name, anyway? There was so little connection between Freddy Cliff and Freddy Stern. He was given a place to live. The apartment was big but abysmal. It was moldy, with rusty faucets and stained walls. The furniture was literally rotting from age and water damage. Freddy was given permission to do whatever he wanted with the place, which was a nice way of saying, ¡°Renovate it yourself.¡± The very next day, he started his work. Unsurprisingly, he was posted to guard the big boss himself, right beside a man who was barely into his second star. At first, Freddy genuinely intended to work for the six months, if anything, just to get a bit more familiar with how stuff worked there. But he learned a bit much a bit too quickly. Namely, they weren¡¯t in the business of ¡°real estate and business management.¡± They were in the business of extortion and human trafficking. It was thinly veiled and done in the filthiest way imaginable, especially the latter part. When he first overheard a conversation about a mother who was forced into sex work because she couldn¡¯t afford the overpriced rent, he knew he couldn¡¯t stomach continuing to work there. He gave it a week, just long enough for it not to be suspicious. Then, one night, just before he went to bed, he called a name. ¡°Bloodshed.¡± The following day, Jeffrey was found dead in his room, his throat torn open and eyes gouged out. A freak wild spirit attack, they said. Within days, the company collapsed as competitors capitalized on the sudden chaos, and Freddy was on his way to a new town deeper in the heart of the Northern Belt. Chapter 106 - Chalice of Punishment + ANNOUNCEMENT Basilisk knelt before the Council of Imperial Adjudicators. The council chamber was styled as an old-fashioned court, clad in wood lacquered by the tears of punishment. Men and women in resplendent clothing sat around him in a circle, reading his crimes, slowly adding more nails to his coffin. Throughout the whole ordeal, he maintained his composure. Even a slight sign of resentment could cost him dearly. There was nothing to be done but to play along. ¡°For your sins against the empire¡¯s safety and prosperity,¡± the male adjudicator intoned in a dignified voice, ¡°you shall be stripped of your title as Lord and drink of the Chalice of Punishment.¡± It took all he had not to grit his teeth and growl in anger. This was as close as it could get to the worst-case scenario. ¡°I understand, Your Honor,¡± he replied calmly. ¡°I have failed in my duties as Lord. On this day, I reforge my loyalty and erase my ignoble tendencies, so that whether or not I reclaim my mantle, I can serve Her Majesty the Empress with utmost dignity and patriotism.¡± ¡°Very well, Harold Maskaart,¡± the man said, putting the book down and straightening his back. ¡°Step forward.¡± Two pedestals rose out of the floor right before him. The one on the left shone with a sinister red light and carried a black chalice. Within the chalice was a sickly-green liquid. The one on the right shone with a soft blue light and carried atop it a white chalice with golden fluid within. With all his will, he got up and stepped toward the platform on the left. ¡°Accept your punishment,¡± the council chanted. He picked up the cup. He drank it in one fell swoop, and it took all his willpower not to throw it up immediately. The liquid vanished from within his stomach and flowed into his soul. With terror, he watched his fourth star dissipate. A storm of ether raged in his soul, harming and regressing every ability he had by a whole stage. Watching so many years of work vanish before his eyes was worse than even the soul pain he was experiencing. Around a minute later, the storm ebbed, and his soul quieted. Ethereal scars were scattered throughout his spirit, and even as he waited, he felt more power leak out of everything that remained. ¡°You may step before the Chalice of Redemption.¡± He turned to the blue pedestal. Urgently, he grasped the white cup and downed it swiftly. The cup poured into his soul, sealing most of the remaining wounds and restoring balance. ¡°Remember this day, Harold Maskaart,¡± the man said again. ¡°Never err again.¡± With a subtle glint of cunning in his eyes, he raised his head and gave his response. ¡°May the empress¡¯s glory illuminate my path.¡± He turned around and walked out of the chamber. His soul burned with the echoes of agony. Only three stars shone within. This would set him back further than he¡¯d ever been set back before. But that didn¡¯t mean he was just any ordinary three-star. He had had years to prepare for a possibility like this, and during that time, he had prepared numerous contingencies. Just you wait, Madame, he thought. I¡¯ll pay you back for this one. *** Mark sat on a fancy couch in an opulent living room, with Nahar lounging across the table. The two men drank alcohol and sat in silence, waiting for the news. Nahar raised a large cigar and puffed a cloud of smoke. The doors opened in the next moment, and a tired Basilisk walked into the apartment. ¡°Hello, boys!¡± he greeted cheerily. ¡°It appears I get to live another day.¡± ¡°As a cripple, it seems,¡± noted Nahar, snorting and shooting the man a pitying glance. ¡°No, not quite,¡± Basilisk said. ¡°My soul stabilized properly, and with a bit of treatment, I should be able to keep gathering without any major problems.¡± ¡°Hmph,¡± Nahar spat. ¡°Devil¡¯s luck.¡± Basilisk walked over to the table and sat right beside Mark. ¡°So¡­ Things have changed a bit, huh?¡± In the blink of an eye, Mark summoned his giant sword and pressed it to Basilisk¡¯s neck, holding it with one hand while sipping scotch. The snakey man sighed and shook his head. ¡°You know, our contract¡ª¡± ¡°It can¡¯t stop me from cutting your head off,¡± Mark declared. ¡°Very good point,¡± Basilisk noted, shrugging while Nahar sneered at him from across the couch. ¡°Right off the bat, I¡¯d like to say that I understand my position. Don¡¯t worry, I won¡¯t call upon niche clauses and try to bully you guys with the law.¡± With the sword still pressed against his neck, Basilisk leaned forward and poured himself a glass of scotch. His stone-hard skin produced a sharp grating sound against the metallic edge. ¡°Instead, I¡¯d like to make you guys an offer.¡± ¡°Rejected,¡± the two men replied in unison. ¡°Come on, at least hear me out!¡± ¡°And why exactly should we?¡± asked Nahar. ¡°Any use we might have had for you, together with any power you had over us, had just evaporated with your fourth star.¡± ¡°Sure, I don¡¯t have any power over you guys,¡± the man admitted. ¡°But your youth is showing. I¡¯ve lived for over 200 years. I can teach you fellas a thing or two.¡± This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. Mark chuckled at that. ¡°That¡¯s exactly why I don¡¯t want anything to do with you. You¡¯re a cunning old bastard. Any lessons you can teach will be learned the hard way.¡± The former Lord sighed sadly and shook his head. ¡°You can posture all you want, but I know that you¡¯re aware that killing me here will be a bigger pain in the ass than hearing me out.¡± Mark groaned and made his sword vanish with a pop of air. ¡°Hurry up. I¡¯m gonna be late for dinner.¡± For a moment, Basilisk grinned wryly. But immediately after, his expression sobered, and he took a deep gulp of the drink. ¡°I¡¯m going to have to run soon. My enemies will jump at the opportunity to get rid of me while they can.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t you get protection?¡± asked Nahar. ¡°Sure I do, for like a month maybe. And even if someone comes after me during that time, the most they¡¯d get for killing a disgraced Lord is a slap on the wrist.¡± ¡°I¡¯m shocked you¡¯d admit you were in such danger,¡± Mark said, raising an eyebrow. Basilisk snickered. ¡°Why are you surprised? I¡¯ve been honest with you guys so far, haven¡¯t I?¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°Not really.¡± ¡°Bah,¡± the man spat. ¡°White lies don¡¯t count¡­¡± Nahar loudly put his glass down. The sound seemed to echo through the large room. ¡°What do you want from us?¡± ¡°Not much, really,¡± the man said, smiling at them. ¡°I just want you to follow me into exile.¡± Mark laughed and started getting off the couch. ¡°All right then, guess I should hurry back home.¡± ¡°You can¡¯t fund your sister¡¯s education all by yourself,¡± Basilisk declared. Mark¡¯s steps froze. ¡°I am probably the youngest person ever to reach this level of power, and I¡¯m capable of punching above my weight class.¡± He slowly turned around. ¡°I can earn more than enough money to support my family.¡± ¡°Let me give you a small word of advice, Mark,¡± Basilisk said as he turned to face him. ¡°Do you know what we call those who earn their money through personal power? We call people like that goons. Minions. Servants.¡± He took another sip of alcohol. ¡°No matter how powerful you get personally, that power is of no use unless you leverage it to do business.¡± Nahar scoffed at that. ¡°Let me guess, you are offering how to teach us economics?¡± ¡°That¡¯s exactly what I¡¯m offering,¡± he said without a single hint of humor in his expression. ¡°Mark, your sister is safely in the academy, and your family is protected by the empress herself. Your family will be safe and sound as long as she keeps making progress. But her competition is some of the wealthiest people on the planet. Sure, she¡¯ll keep up just fine for a year or two, but from then on, it will take exponentially more resources to give her a fighting chance. ¡°And for you, Nahar; I helped you take back the position of patriarch and helped you settle all your debts. But you¡¯re alone now. You¡¯ve sold your whole clan and gotten rather wealthy off that. Can you really protect and manage all that money by yourself?¡± Both the young men could tell what the old snake was doing. He was reminding them of the favors he had done for them and playing up the challenges facing them. There¡¯s poison in your veins, the snake said, and I¡¯m the cure. Unfortunately, in a rare display, the man¡¯s words missed the mark. Nahar and Mark already knew that their situations weren¡¯t entirely stable, but the two men weren¡¯t in some horrible crisis. Even if Mark¡¯s sister failed to keep up and got kicked out after, say, three years, she could just continue her education at a slightly less prestigious academy, at which point she would already be an elite among elites. And Nahar was just filthy rich. It was hard to sell that as some sort of great obstacle. Sure, some vultures might try to swoop in and sell him on a bad deal, but the empire wasn¡¯t some barbaric land. Might didn¡¯t really make right. Sure, might made notable adjustments to right, but it didn¡¯t free people from consequences. Trying to make it seem like they were in a tight spot was a misstep by Basilisk that showed how desperate the man was. But he wasn¡¯t done yet. ¡°And then we have those two.¡± Mark and Nahar froze at that and glanced at each other. Those two¡ªFirrita and Kaefalge¡ªwere trouble. Whatever they were, they couldn¡¯t be allowed to roam freely in society. Nahar had overseen their torture for a long time, and now, he wanted nothing more but to get rid of them. But Mark wasn¡¯t going to allow that. Technically, as a part of his ¡°deal,¡± he had no responsibility to babysit those two. He was supposed to free them and let them go do as they pleased. But he couldn¡¯t just let them go knowing damn well Nahar would most likely go after them to tie up loose ends. Thus, the two young men found themselves in a deadlock. It wasn¡¯t a situation they could postpone indefinitely. One day, the disagreement would come to a head. And when it did, things could turn ugly. Basilisk suddenly grinned widely. ¡°You know, I heard something very interesting during the trial.¡± The tone of his voice made the two young men freeze. They recognized it immediately¡ªthat was the way Basilisk spoke when he was sure he had them in the palm of his hand. ¡°I was informed that my negligent management had allowed a certain¡­ square-eyed bodysnatcher to escape from one of my mining expeditions and sneak into society.¡± In the next moment, Mark once again held a sword to Basilisk¡¯s neck, and Nahar pointed a spear of blood at his heart. But the former Lord simply grinned harder. ¡°Before you kill me, I¡¯ll have you know that a certain acquaintance of mine is prepared to send a report to the authorities the moment he learns of my death. Now, given that I, as Lord, got such harsh treatment for letting one of those things roam around, I wonder what might happen to you if the empress learned that you were harboring two of them.¡± ¡°Mark!¡± Nahar spat. ¡°Come to your senses and kill those two already!¡± ¡°I can¡¯t,¡± he said, staring daggers at the young master. ¡°If you haven¡¯t noticed¡±¡ªhe glared with his square-pupil eyes¡ª¡±I have something of a connection to them.¡± ¡°You¡¯ll also be killed unless you get rid of them.¡± ¡°Then I am doomed to die,¡± Mark asserted. ¡°Now, now,¡± Basilisk waved. ¡°Let¡¯s relax for a moment, okay? Things don¡¯t need to be like that between us. We could all just be friends!¡± Mark glared at him. ¡°I swear I¡¯ll kill you one day.¡± ¡°But until that day¡±¡ªhe got off the couch¡ª¡±you should probably take my offer. We don¡¯t have to slaughter each other like rabid dogs! Say, Mark¡­ Are you¡­ ¡®allowed¡¯ to keep supervising those two?¡± Mark winced. ¡°Probably. I¡¯m supposed to let them go eventually, but there is no hard time limit for when.¡± ¡°Wonderful! How about this: Mark keeps those two under his watch, and Nahar promises not to kill them. We have plenty of time to think of a permanent solution. And until then, I will do my best not to rat you guys out while teaching you how to become true businessmen and rise above the common rabble once and for all!¡± Mark growled in resentment as he finally lowered his sword and spat on the ground. ¡°You said you have to go into exile. For how long?¡± ¡°Until I get back up to four stars, of course.¡± ¡°And where are you gonna go? Out of the country?¡± Mark glared at him. ¡°I can¡¯t go anywhere where I can¡¯t send money back to my family.¡± Basilisk grinned at that. ¡°Oh, don¡¯t worry. We¡¯re not even going to leave the empire¡ªwell¡­ technically. We¡¯re just going to return to my homeland, a place that might as well be a paradise for ambitious three-stars.¡± ¡°And where is that?¡± ¡°Canada,¡± the man said. ¡°Well, nobody calls it that anymore. I believe that, nowadays¡­ ¡°¡­ we refer to it as the Northern Belt.¡± Chapter 107 - Happy Birthday It was a bumpy ride. It had been for most of the way there. Freddy looked out the bus window and down the deteriorating roads surrounded by thick forest on each side. The bus''s massive wheels handled the trip quite well, but the constant jostling and bouncing had worn on most of the passengers¡ªeven Freddy had to admit that it was starting to exhaust him. At first, he had no real direction in mind when he set off on his journey¡ªhe just wanted to make some distance from the previous town and go a bit deeper into the Northern Belt. But he had heard some strange rumors on the few stops the bus had made at smaller settlements. There was a city. It was called Repentawa. Well, it was more of a large town by the American Empire standards, with just a bit above 200,000 residents. By the standards of the Northern Belt, that was considered a small-to-medium-sized city. But its population wasn¡¯t the thing that caught Freddy¡¯s attention. The rumors surrounding it were the main reason he was heading there. The first time he heard the rumors, he didn¡¯t think much of them. The second time, they piqued his curiosity. The third time, he knew he had to check it out. As for what these mystical rumors were? The city didn¡¯t entirely suck to live in! Crime was still rampant, the infrastructure was still ass, and the local government was as rotten as anywhere else, but at the very least, organized crime held just a bit less power over the citizens than in most cities in this godforsaken place. Nobody knew why this was the case, but it made it an appealing place to move to. Freddy shared this sentiment. He planned on building himself up, maybe dipping his toes in some business ventures if the opportunity arose. The fewer crime lords he had to contend with, the easier his life would be. He extracted his Northern Belt ID from his storage ring with a small, barely audible puff of air. It was the same size and roughly the same layout as the empire ID, but while the empire ID had a very professional look to it, the Northern Belt one was¡­ The blue, stylized coloring almost made it look like a pass card for a ski resort rather than an official government document. It was pretty but flashy¡ªtacky even. He sighed and put it away. It was still a valid ID, at least within the Northern Belt. It would serve him just fine. After another few hours of insufferable commute through a mountainous, frozen hellscape, he finally spotted Repentawa, tucked neatly in a valley. Frankly, it looked shittier than he expected. Even from afar, he could tell that the concrete buildings were run down and old, giving most of the city a depressing vibe. There were new construction projects around the edges; the settlement was expanding, likely a sign of the new people that were coming in. As was the case practically everywhere, there were some nice buildings a short drive out of the city on almost every side. These appeared to belong to the local powers, who had a habit of putting some space between themselves and, well, everyone else. At any rate, with the city close on the horizon, his journey was nearly finished. It had taken so much longer than he expected, and that was more than just a minor annoyance. Sophia¡¯s head was rotting away. Anything less than direct, potent, supreme-quality healing could do nothing to buy him more time. He had somewhere around seven months remaining to help bring her back to life. That was far less than he had been hoping for. Slowly but surely, the bus made its way toward the city. Half an hour later, it finally stepped on a high-quality road, and another fifteen minutes later, Freddy had reached his destination. It wasn¡¯t all that different from the last town he stayed at¡ªthe civilians were armed, drakes and carriages were the main modes of transport, and it was bitterly cold. Passersby all looked to be in foul moods, and nobody as much as glanced at one another. Freddy sighed, taking a deep breath and smiling broadly. ¡°Feels just like home.¡± Thankfully, he didn¡¯t have to pull any bullshit to get some funds this time. He had four decent-sized storage rings to sell. Sophia¡¯s, Jacob¡¯s, and of the two cultists. He hadn¡¯t sold the cultists¡¯ rings yet because he had thought he might find a use for them, but what better use was there but to earn a shit ton of money? Swiftly, he headed for the nearest bank, where he opened an account and immediately traded the storage rings in exchange for a cash deposit. Banks weren¡¯t trading centers¡ªthey didn¡¯t usually buy or sell things. However, stuff with stable value, such as storage rings, could be exchanged for money at any bank. They didn¡¯t deal in speculative goods or anything that lost value with time. But storage rings lasted forever. Due to their limited supply, they also barely changed in value over time. Combined with their tiny size, they were a better way to store value than even gold. While Freddy had no trust in the government, the banks were the singular exception. Every bank was empire-owned, and an incredible amount of effort went into ensuring that if anyone put their money into a bank, it would be safe there. In fact, even just blackmailing someone to take their money out of their bank account was punishable by death. There was a good reason for this¡ªwith such incredible disparity in personal power, there had to be some way to ensure that ordinary citizens and low-ranking archhumans could keep their money safe. If such a thing didn¡¯t exist, the economy simply collapsed. It turned out that if mortals couldn''t hold on to money, they wouldn''t take money as payment. Who¡¯d have thought? Well, not the empire! They had to suffer three major collapses before it finally clicked. Freddy left the bank with a big, warm smile on his face. While he had known that storage rings were expensive, he had such a massive one that he had never bothered to check the price. It turned out that his little trip to the bank¡ªafter taxes and fees were accounted for¡ªleft him with just over nine million dollars. The air smelled so much fresher than it did the last time he was outside, which was only like an hour ago. He felt like an entirely new man. The first thing he did was visit the nearest hospital. He was referred to a private clinic for his exotic needs, where he reserved the services of three expert healers. He had to wait around four months for them to free up their schedules since they would have to work for quite a few days in a row to finish Freddy¡¯s insane request. With a contract ensuring that they would reconstruct Sophia¡¯s body for the affordable price of six million dollars, Freddy was finished with the most important thing on his list of obligations. It wasn¡¯t guaranteed to work. She still might not wake up. There was a good chance he¡¯d have to spent more money on further procedures, but this was a huge step forward. A body reconstructed through supernatural-quality healing wouldn¡¯t be¡­ particularly healthy. It was likely that it would be deformed and that it would be prone to sickness and organ failure. But as long as it helped Sophia open her eyes, it didn¡¯t really matter. A couple of those sparks of hers would get her right back up to perfect health. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. Despite signing away a huge chunk of his wealth, he still had three million dollars sitting on his bank account. The second order of business was finding a place to stay. Given that he''d seen the type of insane shit landlords got up to around here, he had no intention of renting. And¡­ well¡­ he did have a solid chunk of cash burning a hole in his pocket. Perhaps getting himself a piece of real estate wasn''t the worst idea. He stayed at a fancy hotel for a few days while he was shopping for a place to buy. The older buildings had some really cheap apartments, but he didn''t have to settle for some moldy old place that would depreciate in value. So he turned to the fancier side of the city for his needs. After having several lawyers comb through the contracts to ensure there was no funny business, he signed a deal and became the proud owner of a 1.7-million-dollar penthouse. It felt surreal. He sleep walked through the whole thing without really taking the time to think about what he was doing. Finally, once everything was paid for and all the contracts were signed, he walked into his new 300-square-meter apartment. It was decorated in a soft, beige style, but with warm colors and fancy furniture to keep things from being too monochrome. A massive BC sat in the middle of his opulent living room. The bed took up half of his already gigantic master bedroom. There were four guest rooms, each bigger than any place he''d rented out. The walls were mostly made up of large windows looking over the vast frozen wilderness surrounding the settlement, where the morning sun peeked through the thick clouds above, showcasing its heavenly columns of light, while on the other side, he got a solid view of the city itself. He moved robotically and sat on the giant couch, sinking into the soft pillows like a ship settling into the ocean. His eyes opened slightly. ¡°That''s right¡­ it''s my birthday today,¡± he said with a chuckle. ¡°I totally forgot!¡± He started laughing wildly. It was the 9th of March¡ªthe date commemorating the day all his troubles began. He hadn''t celebrated it for so long that he nearly forgot about it altogether. As his hysterical laughter intensified, it was soon joined by tears. He pinched his brows as he leaned over and wept his heart out. ¡°Fucking hell,¡± he swore, swallowing heavily and wiping his face with the back of his hand. How long had he dreamed of buying an apartment? He''d worked tirelessly, gathering wealth penny by penny in hopes that one day in the distant future, he could become an archhuman, and only then would he have even been capable of saving for real estate. It had been a dream above a dream, a pure fantasy that couldn¡¯t be realized within one lifetime. But now, more for convenience than anything, he had purchased a massive living unit¡­ just like that. But¡­ he supposed it made sense. Somewhere along the way, between all the moments of suffering and horror, he had become a peak two-star. A one-star was already quite far removed from everyday mortals. Two-stars were elites. Peak two-stars? He was already pushing into the bottom rung of the owner class¡ªthe elite among the elite. Buying an apartment like this barely even qualified as a large purchase anymore. It had no rooms for training or gathering. Frankly, this was a bit too frugal for someone of his station. The things he had to really save up and fight for were far more expensive than this. He needed a genuinely incredible amount of wealth to reach the third star. Without essence elixirs and ability-growth resources, he¡¯d need decades to grow his abilities enough to push forward. It was even worse due to the two spirit abilities he had in his soul. While it wouldn¡¯t hinder the growth of his abilities by much, any bottlenecks he encountered would become thrice as harsh. That was why a two-thirds reduction in growth was so crippling. But for that day, he put the stressful thoughts of the future away. This wasn''t the time to look upon the cliff he stood before. It was time for him to reflect on just how far he''d come. Tears wouldn''t stop flowing down his eyes. ¡°Mom¡­ Dad¡­¡± he called into the empty space around him. ¡°I wish you were still here.¡± He wasn''t calling for his birth parents. They could die in a ditch for all he cared. But his adopted parents¡ªJill and Francis Stern¡ªhe wanted them back. He was ashamed of the path that took him there but proud of where he was. He wanted to show them. He was a big boy now¡ªall grown up, manly, muscular, and hairy. He was healthy. He was powerful. He could take care of himself¡ªthem, too, if they were still with him. Would they be proud? For a long hour, he wept, letting it all out. Then for a brief moment, he thought he could find them again one day. But the empire was a huge place. Who knew where they had gone? He''d need to mobilize quite the force to track them down¡­ if they were even still alive. And knowing their problematic lifestyle, they had probably run away precisely because they got into trouble they didn''t want to drag him into. A pang of anger flashed in his gut at the thought. Whether they were alive or not, he''d know one day. And he''d find out who had brought them such trouble. Even if it was the empress herself, her days were numbered. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Freddy went back to chuckling. ¡°God damn it, I''m losing it.¡± He''d celebrate his birthday today. Despite all the times life tried to kick him to the curb, he was alive and thriving. For the first time, he truly understood why people celebrated their birthdays. It wasn¡¯t some vain celebration of a random date. Nobody was guaranteed to live another year. It only made sense to celebrate making it that far. He had the whole day before him. It was 1 p.m. For the time being, he had no plans to jump right into delving and training. He wouldn¡¯t make that same mistake again. He had learned his lesson¡ªthe lone wolf shtick didn¡¯t work. What was a lone wolf but a big, ownerless dog? In a forest of tiger packs and dragon dens, a wolf was more prey than predator. He needed backing from the tigers. He needed allies among the dragons. That didn¡¯t mean he would work for someone else. As a peak two-star, he was more than qualified to be a boss rather than an employee. But that didn¡¯t mean that he couldn¡¯t work with other people. Automatically, this meant he would have enemies, too. And that was just a reality of life. There were always enemies to be made. The difference this time was that he would be choosing who he made into an enemy. Taking a deep breath, he worked to relax himself. ¡°Chill out, man,¡± he told himself. This wasn¡¯t a day for dark thoughts. It was a day to relax and have some fun. He left the apartment and went to a spa. First, he got a massage. With his talent, his muscles were always in top form, but that didn¡¯t make the massage any less enjoyable or relaxing. After that, he spent some time in the sauna and in the baths. For a long moment, he was tempted to hit a nearby club but decided against it. He was still unfamiliar with the people of this city, and barging in cock swinging like he owned the place might step on someone¡¯s toes. He wasn¡¯t in the mood for that. He got some nice wine and snacks. Then he went home. For the whole evening, he drank away and watched the BC, flipping through the channels. He watched dumb comedy specials and shitty action movies. At one point, he even brought Bloodshed out to watch with him. The skeleton wasn¡¯t impressed by comedy, but it quite enjoyed horror films, especially the gory ones. ¡°Hehehey, damn, Bloodshed!¡± Freddy called as he rustled its bony head. ¡°See? You can enjoy things, too.¡± ¡°I am merely fascinated by¡ª¡± ¡°Shhh¡­¡± he shushed it as he pressed a finger to its bare teeth. ¡°Just admit that you like Skinless Greg 3 and shut the hell up!¡± For a brief moment, the skeleton almost appeared to snort disdainfully before it turned away and continued watching. As such, the night went on, soon passing midnight and marking the end of his birthday. This was nice, Freddy thought to himself as he turned the BC off and got ready for bed. He let Bloodshed stay outside. At first, he was bothered by the fact that it left blood all over the place, but it could just as easily make that blood evaporate into essence whenever it wished. He wanted to encourage the skeleton to be a bit more independent. At least within the confines of the apartment, it didn¡¯t have to be just a tool Freddy used sometimes. To his surprise, the skeleton sat on the couch and turned the BC back on. Freddy cackled. ¡°Is there a problem, Master?¡± Bloodshed called. ¡°Nah,¡± he said, swinging a drunken hand in the air. ¡°Just keep the volume down while I sleep.¡± Just as he said this, the horror movie showed a scene of a woman getting brutally murdered and screaming wildly. ¡°Understood,¡± Bloodshed said as it lowered the volume a bit. Freddy shook his head with a rueful smile. ¡°Good night, Bloodshed.¡± The skeleton turned to face him and nodded. With a goofy smile, Freddy walked away, leaving Bloodshed alone. It kept staring down the hallway, its empty eye sockets lingering on the shadow he left behind. ¡°Good night, Freddy.¡± Chapter 108 - Lay of the Land Freddy loved 1% Lifesteal. All the other benefits aside, being in top shape every day was already enough to make it a top-tier talent. He got smashed yesterday. Today, from the instant he woke up, he was ready for action. While he was tempted to take a few days off and allow himself to relax a bit, he didn¡¯t want to become complacent. There were things to do. Important things. Repentawa wasn¡¯t a metropolis, but it was a city nonetheless, full of leaders and servants, rivals and friends¡ªwho knew who, who owned what, who lived where, who hated who¡ªit mattered. The political climate was full of extreme weather events, and keeping track of the patterns was important for anyone who didn¡¯t want to get caught in a storm. Freddy was one of those people That being said, making friends was easier said than done. And besides, he wasn¡¯t really out here to ¡°make friends.¡± He was trying to establish mutually beneficial relationships with as many of the local powers as possible. But what would he provide? Just being a peak two-star wasn¡¯t enough to give him political credit. And who would he make allies with? It wasn¡¯t that he just didn¡¯t know who the local powers were¡ªhe didn¡¯t know the relationships between them. If A and B were mortal enemies, he could only choose one side. If A happened to also be friends with C, they were better a choice than B, who was politically outmuscled. But if A and C were insanely sketchy and dealt in terrible things, he¡¯d rather take his chances with B. While he was ready to kill, he did not want to side with villains. He was aware that this mindset¡ªespecially in the Northern Belt¡ªput him at somewhat of a disadvantage, but that didn¡¯t mean he would do literally anything for personal benefit. He had boundaries. But he was willing to overlook¡­ some stuff. Like financial crime. He didn''t give a single shit about tax evasion or theft from competitors. He had a strong dislike of running gambling rings, but he could tolerate it. Also murder. Depending on context, of course. He wasn''t exactly the purest maiden in the village, and neither was he the cleanest pair of tighty whities in the laundry basket. He''d be a hypocrite and a fool to go all hero of the masses. He was in the Northern Belt. This wasn''t exactly a place where he''d find righteous factions to side with. Still, stuff like dealing hard drugs and human trafficking of any kind was something he could never tolerate. The first order of business was quite simple. Information. If he had a hundred obedient spirits like Bloodshed, he¡¯d send them off to spy on people until he got a complete picture of the inner workings of the city. But he didn¡¯t. That left him with only a few options. He could directly befriend someone powerful and then, through conversation, extract information. This was the last option by default, since it required him to get involved without knowing the lay of the land. He could also try and step into contact with an information dealer, but that risked putting him on the radar of local powers. But he had a different idea. He visited several nearby stores and noted any local magazines and newspapers up for sale. He noted the companies'' names and then looked for their locations. There were seven places he needed to visit. While putting his two-star prowess on full display, he went to all of the businesses personally and asked for a copy of every edition they¡¯d published for the last ten years. It cost him quite the sum, but he managed to obtain a number of huge boxes full of published articles. Then he got to sorting. The speed at which a two-star could read was nothing to scoff at. As a two-star, Freddy also had a much better memory than ordinary people. Together with the help of 1% Lifesteal, a massive pile of energy drinks, and several long days of research, he had a pretty decent picture of how things worked in Repentawa. Freddy stood in his living room wearing nothing but his silk robes and underwear and holding a can of energy drink. His beard was starting to get messy. He slumped on an armchair, swung his arm back, scratched the back of his head, blew some air through pursed lips, and took a sip from the can. Before him was a wall full of cutout images and articles, all connected with red string and sorted into piles of valuable information. It was clear as day that the local journalists were spineless. First, he analyzed whose dick the newspapers sucked the hardest. That was most likely the faction that owned them. Then depending on how they reported on other factions, he could tell who they were enemies and allies with. There were five major factions in play. Two of them were strong allies, while the other three seemed to keep each other at arm''s length, although they weren¡¯t strangers to cooperating to keep the other two in check. The number of violent incidents between two ¡°mysterious groups,¡± as the newspapers called them, suggested that there was a lot of fighting between the major factions. There was also a fun pattern of a new, smaller faction appearing, then getting slandered to hell and back, and finally, when they were ¡°righteously eliminated¡± by one of the local powers, it magically turned out that they were responsible for all this bad shit that had been happening for way longer than the faction was even around. A good number of these smaller players were probably just puppets of one of the more prominent factions, created to take the fall when an operation went bust, and a more minor part was new powers trying to break through¡ªwhether they were actually criminals or not it was hard to tell. Unfortunately, this made it nearly impossible to tell which faction dealt with what kind of dirty work¡ªif anything, it seemed like all of them were willing to at least dabble in things he wasn''t willing to tolerate. Except for one possible outlier. Around six years ago, a smaller player appeared. They hadn''t expired since, mainly because of the powerful three-star at the helm¡ªa man who went by Thor, which Freddy found really funny because the man had the lightning affinity. According to the newspapers, this organization, which went by Valhalla¡ªagain, super hilarious¡ªwas guilty of doing an incredible amount of dirty work. Most commonly, dangerous and harmful ¡°terrorist vigilantism¡±. Valhalla dabbled in tearing criminal operations apart, and the newspaper always made it seem like they were just ¡°annihilating the competition¡± or even ¡°plundering the contraband for themselves.¡± Freddy was inclined to believe that if anyone in this city was worth allying with, it was these guys. They were probably the main reason why Repentawa had the reputation it did. Granted, their leader did himself no favors with his appearance. The dude was a heavily tattooed skinhead with a goatee. It was hard to look more criminal than that. Sighing, he took a deep gulp of his beverage. This wasn¡¯t looking good. If he really couldn''t find a single half-decent faction to try and partner with, he¡¯d rather sell the apartment and move elsewhere. It wasn¡¯t just a matter of moral values, either¡ªallying with nasty fucks would make him a target of the aforementioned ¡°terrorist vigilantism.¡± He was in no mood to brawl with Thor or any other superhero wannabes. It was too early to say anything for sure. He had a good picture of who was who and how not to accidentally offend them. Besides, before he could even dream of becoming an ¡°ally¡± rather than an ¡°employee,¡± he needed to have something of value to offer. Personal strength wasn¡¯t a bad choice, especially if he assembled a decent party of fighters. But there were other options, too. He could also start and grow a company that filled a hole in the local market. There were a few issues that Repentawa struggled with, like commercial goods transportation to and from other settlements. If he could start a transport company and grow it before someone tore him to shreds, he¡¯d be in a great spot. The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. But he needed more personal power before any of this could take place. Mainly, he needed to shore up his core weaknesses and learn how to actually fight. Repentawa had only a single passage. This was a common pattern in the Northern Belt¡ªthe area was pretty thin in ether density. Thus, this passage wasn''t owned by anyone, as enforced by the empire. Surprisingly, there was also a dungeon not too deep in there, and it was a very peculiar one. The entrance was unlocked every six hours, and as many people as wanted could enter inside. The dungeon was a fortress in the middle of a vast grass field. Over six hours, escalating waves of enemies would rush at the fortress, and whoever was inside had to fend them off. Depending on how many soldiers every individual defeated, they¡¯d get a special reward. Most people just got a bag of silver coins, more or less depending on the number of soldiers they took down. But if a fighter could make an outstanding contribution, they could also get special rewards, primarily weapons, neither cursed nor inscribed but relatively high in quality and made from decent material. While this dungeon technically ran four times a day, it was usually only populated once or twice a day, sometimes not at all. Nobody wanted to enter if there weren¡¯t enough participants because if the fortress was overrun, it was game over. Surviving even in that situation was technically possible, but it was not easy. There were a few other things that were peculiar about this dungeon. Only a select few elite enemies provided ether. This was a shame for a few reasons. It made the dungeon a poor place to gather and meant that ordinary enemies didn¡¯t help with essence recovery. Thankfully, this also meant that the elites were the only troops that could appear as deviants. Another thing that was very strange about this dungeon was the enemies were¡­ humans, at least in appearance. This wasn¡¯t unheard of, but it was uncommon. They couldn¡¯t be reasoned with, though; they just spouted random war chants and profanities. But they could be demoralized. To Freddy, this sounded like a great place to practice his throwing abilities. The fortress itself was full of supplies, including an infinitely respawning reserve of ammo like throwing javelins, arrows, and even boulders and bolts to launch from catapults and ballistae. While the value of this dungeon was only middle of the road, it sounded like an absolute fucking blast to participate in. It also sounded like a decent place to practice fighting. He couldn¡¯t wait to check it out. Scratching his thick beard, Freddy got up and took a shower. Before he could go do anything, he had a shopping trip to get out of the way. As for his purchases, he kept his budget under a million dollars since he didn¡¯t want to blow all his savings at once. That only left him with a relatively small cushion of half a million. It was the same arrangement as last time¡ªhigh-quality helmet, vest, vambraces, and boots, with many layers of minor middle-quality gear. As soon as he approached the passage hub, it was clear as day that it wasn¡¯t privately owned. The passage itself was open and sitting in the middle of the city, surrounded by numerous stands where traders from different companies were haggling for whatever goods were brought out of the interspace. Not too far from the passage entrance, small groups of healers waited patiently for anyone injured to come out looking for their services. This was a true open passage¡ªthere were no fees or counters where he had to register and no rules anyone had to follow. Conversely, this likely meant that the first few steps had been plundered clean long ago. Before going in there, Freddy walked up to one of the stores selling equipment and purchased a guide. It cost five thousand dollars, which was annoying but to be expected. The guide was quite hefty, with maps and detailed routes to all the discovered passages within. There was a lot of reading to be done. Because the entrance took to a relatively weak section of the interspace, this part had been explored up to quite a few steps out. Given that, with every new step, there was an exponentially higher number of new passages to find, it added up really quickly. To Freddy¡¯s surprise, there were actually two routes that took to places in entirely different parts of the world. This wasn¡¯t uncommon, given that the entire interspace was interconnected, but it was still a crazy thing to consider. In less than an hour of walking, he could be in Yugoslavia or on a small unnamed island. Well, Yugoslavia and the American Empire had established a border and sealed the path off, but it wasn¡¯t impossible to break through it. If there was less hostility between sovereign nations, it would be easy to get anywhere in the world. But alas. It would take him longer to read through the whole guide than to scan the last ten years of local news, so he chose a few interesting paths and studied them. After around two hours of reading, he headed in for his first run into the local interspace. Just as he got off the bench and headed for the passage, he spotted something that immediately caught his attention. There was a kid that looked no older than maybe 18 or 19. He was walking forward in oversized equipment with a small shortsword strapped to his waist. He was skinny and maybe of average height. His short, black hair was combed back, and his eyes were flickering all over the place. A lump was visibly stuck halfway up his throat, and his steps were incredibly nervous. Inexperienced and underequipped folk weren¡¯t an infrequent sight around these parts. The local interspace was relatively easy to handle, so even one-stars shouldn¡¯t have too much trouble going at it alone. But this kid wasn¡¯t a one-star. He was a mortal. Well, he seemed to be, at least. Freddy couldn¡¯t feel the kid¡¯s soul. Suddenly, Freddy was struck by a thought. This young man seemed like an ordinary citizen. It was improbable that he had any connections to the local powers. At the very least, he didn¡¯t recognize his face from any of the numerous articles he¡¯d read. He didn¡¯t even resemble anyone Freddy had seen. If he was trying to be more social, he should probably try to socialize more. What better person to get some practice on than someone who didn¡¯t seem involved with the local politics? ¡­ Well that sounded like a good idea in theory. But Freddy felt queasy at the thought. Why? This was just some pathetic kid who was probably up to something idiotic¡­ So why did he feel so anxious about approaching him? His palms were sweating beneath his gloves, and his heart rate was elevated. Come on now¡­ he chided himself mentally. You can¡¯t seriously be nervous? Freddy didn¡¯t find it hard to talk to people per se. But his mind went back to that time he approached that receptionist girl. That shit sucked. Putting yourself out there only to be shot down wasn¡¯t a pleasant experience. To Freddy, who had spent most of his life playing the social reject, trying to make friends was a spine-chilling thought, even with some random civilian. No good, he thought. If I want to get anywhere, I¡¯m gonna have to get over this. And with that thought, he got up and approached the young man before him. *** Lucas was having a real crappy day. And week. And month. And year. Honestly, he didn¡¯t remember the last time his life wasn¡¯t miserable. There he was, standing in his dead brother¡¯s old gear, quivering like a coward and second-thinking the life choices that brought him there. The worst part was that it wasn¡¯t even his fault. His dumb broad of a mother got herself in trouble again. After gambling all their savings and a large loan away, she was being threatened into paying it back as quickly as possible. Else, both she and Lucas were getting their kneecaps removed. And not surgically, either. Though they might lose their kidneys surgically. And half their lungs. And probably a part of their liver. Maybe a finger or two¡­ What other parts of the human body were worth money? At any rate, they needed a miracle to get out of this one. And there was only one thing Lucas could think of. ¡°Come on, you got this, man,¡± he told himself as he squared his shoulders up and finally looked straight at the passage. Prime vestige manifestation. Little was known about the phenomenon, but fighting against monsters could help people generate one. Most people died before getting that far, but there was a good number of people who succeeded. His older brother had been one of them. Well he didn¡¯t last long after getting his talent, but he did manage to get it. ¡°God, I can¡¯t do this,¡± he mumbled as he shrank again. Whoever the hell was in charge of his fortune, would it kill them to throw him a bone sometimes? ¡°Hey there,¡± Lucas heard a deep and intimidating voice call from his side. He turned around and froze. An armored giant of a man was staring down at him. The man proceeded to take his helmet off, only to reveal a full, thick beard and angular features beneath. The man¡¯s gaze was predatory and intense, like a hawk staring down at a mouse. Lucas felt his buttcheeks clench. ¡°H-hi?¡± ¡°Hello,¡± the man said again and smiled tensely. ¡°I¡¯m Freddy stuuu¡­¡± The man coughed. ¡°I¡¯m Freddy Cliff. Nice to meet you.¡± Why was this man introducing himself? What was happening? ¡°Uh¡­ Hi?¡± Lucas tried dumbly. ¡°Can I help you?¡± ¡°Sorry for being rude, but you¡¯re a mortal, right?¡± Lucas tensed and nodded briefly. ¡°And you¡¯re planning to head into the passage?¡± Lucas winced at that and then nodded reluctantly. The man laughed with a voice that made Lucas¡¯s chest tighten, and he nodded vigorously. ¡°You¡¯re a pretty brave dude. If you don¡¯t mind, you uh¡­ You want me to come with you?¡± Lucas¡¯s lips tightened into a line. ¡°Yeeeaah¡­ Sure thing, man! I¡¯d¡­ Oh, I¡¯d really love to, but I uh¡ª¡± ¡°Great!¡± The man lightly slapped Lucas¡¯s back, causing him to stumble forward a bit. It felt like a horse had kicked him. ¡°You have anything to do before we set off¡ªoh, yeah, I forgot, what¡¯s your name?¡± ¡°I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m Lucas,¡± he said. ¡°Lucas Black. And I can go uhm¡­ whenever¡­ whenever you want¡­¡± ¡°Great! Let¡¯s uhm¡­ Let¡¯s go then.¡± ¡°Sure thing,¡± he eked out. I¡¯m so losing my kidneys today. Chapter 109 - Difference in Status Freddy and his newly minted friend started on their journey into the interspace. Lucas looked like he was on the brink of shitting himself, but Freddy tactfully ignored his shivering and the clattering of his teeth. The passage was rather wide¡ªnot quite as wide as the one in the Santorio Hub, but wide enough that three people could walk side by side without a problem. As soon as they stepped into the first passage, Freddy scowled. The first step was a C-grade realm that had once been a large, lush forest. Now, it was a desolate wasteland. What few stumps of trees remained were mostly charcoal, and there wasn¡¯t a single inch of soil that hadn¡¯t been overturned. There were numerous shapes of stone and earth, likely made by aspiring earth-affinity archhumans who were trying to practice their spells. These were side by side with craters where fire-affinity archs had no doubt done the same. This was what happened when there was no regulation. What could have been a precious realm for beginners had been turned into a scorched wasteland without a single monster. Naturally, Freddy didn¡¯t give a shit. He had a destination in mind and walked with unerring steps. His companion wasn¡¯t quite as brave or determined. He looked through the environment with a visible lump in his throat, clutching the shitty old sword in his hand like a charm that would keep him safe. ¡°Relax,¡± Freddy said, causing the young fellow to leap in surprise. Freddy chuckled. ¡°We are far from a realm with any monsters. Even then, with me there, you aren¡¯t at risk of harm.¡± Lucas chuckled nervously. ¡°I don¡¯t know about that¡­ What about spirits? I heard they could sometimes threaten even three-stars!¡± Freddy laughed heartily at that. ¡°This place is practically an ether desert. I¡¯d be surprised to find a remnant, let alone a spirit. Come on, relax; you¡¯re not in any real danger. Well, not yet.¡± The young man stiffened and then reluctantly nodded at that. They walked in silence for a while. Eventually, Lucas hesitantly opened his mouth. ¡°Hey¡­ I¡¯m just wondering¡­¡± ¡°Hmm?¡± ¡°Ah, oh¡­ Uhm¡­ never mind¡­¡± Lucas lowered his head. ¡°What?¡± ¡°I-it¡¯s n-nothing¡­¡± Lucas insisted. ¡°Come on, you can tell me. Are you getting cold feet? I¡¯m not going to force you to come with me if you don¡¯t want to, you know?¡± ¡°Not that¡¯s¡ªit¡¯s¡­ Uhm¡­ I mean¡­ I¡¯m just wondering¡­ Haha¡­ Why did you invite me to come with you, sir?¡± ¡°Sir?¡± Freddy laughed. ¡°How old do you think I am?¡± Lucas hesitated, scowling in contemplation. Finally, he settled on a guess. ¡°You don¡¯t look a day older than fifty, sir!¡± he said in a flattering tone. Freddy laughed so hard he nearly buckled over. ¡°Fifty? Oh man, that¡¯s quite a guess. I¡¯m 23.¡± ¡°Hahaha!¡± Lucas laughed awkwardly. ¡°That is a good one, sir!¡± Freddy paused, raising an eyebrow. ¡°I¡¯m not joking.¡± Lucas stared at him for a long moment. ¡°What!? I mean, I apologize¡­ But that¡¯s¡­ Hard to believe¡­ I¡¯m not saying you look old!¡± he explained hurriedly. ¡°I j-just think you look quite accomplished! You must be at least at the peak of the first star! It takes a long time to get there!¡± ¡°I¡¯m a peak two-star,¡± Freddy said casually. Lucas croaked, making a strangled squeaking noise. ¡°I¡­ I see. Wow. That is¡­¡± ¡°You asked me why I invited you, right?¡± Freddy asked. ¡°I would never dare to assume you have foul intentions, sir!¡± Lucas shouted. ¡°Please forgive my rudeness!¡± Freddy snorted and shook his head. ¡°Man, you have a very wrong impression of me.¡± He scratched the back of his head. ¡°I¡¯m not some haughty young master. I invited you to come with me because I was in a mood to bring someone along.¡± Lucas¡¯s steps halted at that, and he looked down, letting the sword hang loosely in his hand. For a long moment, he just stood there in silence, clearly perturbed by something. Freddy wanted to say something, but he opted to wait instead. Did he scare the poor fella? After half a minute of anxiously looking up at Freddy and down to the ground, Lucas finally gathered the bravery. ¡°I am really sorry if this comes across as rude, but why would you call me specifically?¡± ¡°I told you; I was in the mood to bring someone along. You just happened to be the first person I saw.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ believe that,¡± the young man said, suddenly looking a bit defiant. He was visibly sweating, but his eyes burned with determination. Freddy decided to elaborate a bit, seeing no harm in openly saying the truth. ¡°I¡¯m not a very social person,¡± he said. ¡°This is a big problem for me. I want to get better at socializing with others, so I invited you to come along.¡± The young man looked confused for a bit. ¡°To a delve? No offense, but¡­ I wouldn¡¯t consider this is a good way to make friends.¡± ¡°Depends on what kind of friends you¡¯re trying to make.¡± ¡°But again¡­ Why me¡­?¡± The man looked confused and frustrated, as if something he wanted to ask was hanging on the tip of his tongue,. Freddy grinned widely and chuckled deeply. ¡°I see, I see¡­¡± he said. ¡°You think I¡¯m playing with you, right?¡± ¡°What!?¡± Lucas¡¯s eyes widened at the accusation. ¡°No, I wouldn¡¯t¡ª¡± ¡°Oh, relax. I¡¯ve stewed in the same bitterness my whole life; I can smell it from a mile away.¡± Freddy came a step closer. ¡°You think I picked you because I¡¯m looking down on you, isn¡¯t that right?¡± ¡°I¡¯d never¡­¡± the young man denied it, but his eyes betrayed his inner thoughts. ¡°Well, you¡¯re not entirely wrong,¡± Freddy conceded, ¡°but you¡¯re not right, either.¡± The young man kept his gaze down, remaining quiet. ¡°You see, I¡¯m not a big fan of the local factions,¡± Freddy declared. ¡°A mortal like you won¡¯t have any undesirable connections.¡± Freddy sighed, walking over until he stood right beside Lucas. He swung an arm around the boy¡¯s neck, pulling him in as he whispered, ¡°You grew up in Repentawa, right?¡± Lucas nodded nervously. Sweat dripped down the side of his head. His breathing was erratic. ¡°Then you must be familiar with how rotten and terrible the local powers are. The newspapers always praise them like they¡¯re some kind of heroes, but the people know the truth.¡± The boy bit his lip, clearly afraid to say anything. ¡°I¡¯m not one of them,¡± Freddy said. ¡°I¡¯m not from this city at all.¡± A torn look crossed the young man¡¯s eyes. ¡°Okay. Let¡¯s say I believe you. What exactly¡­ do you want from me? Ah, I don¡¯t mean to say that you¡¯re trying to gain something, I just¡ª¡± Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. ¡°A friend,¡± Freddy said. ¡°I¡¯m really just trying to make friends. I know there¡¯s nothing I can say that would prove this. If you genuinely aren¡¯t comfortable with that, I¡¯m sorry for putting you in this situation.¡± He apologized sincerely. ¡°If you aren¡¯t interested, we part ways here.¡± ¡°You¡¯re serious¡­?¡± Lucas looked shocked. ¡°I¡­¡° He laughed with a look of disbelief on his face. ¡°I am sorry, but this just sounds ridiculous. Why would a peak two-star ever befriend a mortal?¡± Freddy quirked an eyebrow. ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t I?¡± The young man¡¯s lips tightened into a line. ¡°Let¡¯s say¡­ just theoretically¡­ that I had some sort of problem. And let¡¯s also say that you could make that problem go away very easily. What would you do then?¡± ¡°I¡¯d help you out.¡± ¡°And¡­ if I had another problem?¡± ¡°I¡¯d help you out again.¡± ¡°Wouldn¡¯t that make me a burden?¡± ¡°Isn¡¯t that a bit contradictory?¡± Freddy asked with a raised eyebrow. ¡°If I could make it go away very easily, where¡¯s the problem?¡± ¡°Because I have a lot of problems!¡± Lucas exclaimed, then took a deep breath to calm himself down. ¡°Look,¡± Freddy said, shrugging. ¡°That doesn¡¯t really sound like a dealbreaker to me. If anything, doesn¡¯t that make it simpler? I help you out when you need a hand and you be my friend. Sounds like a good deal, no?¡± Lucas scowled at that. ¡°That doesn¡¯t sound like a real friendship to me.¡± Freddy rolled his eyes. ¡°What do you think a real friendship is, then? Magic, rainbows, and unicorn farts? Friendships are based on mutual benefits.¡± ¡°That¡¯s¡­ a very cynical outlook on life,¡± Lucas proclaimed with a hint of disgust in his expression. ¡°That¡¯s a realistic outlook on life.¡± Freddy really meant what he said. Mark and Sophia were the only two ¡°friends¡± he¡¯d ever had. In both cases, their relations had been back and forth. Any warm feelings of companionship only came after both parties found a way to benefit from the other person. Hell, he and Sophia had even hated each other at one point, but the sheer fact that they had so much to gain from being friends ended up making them put their differences aside. Lucas looked stricken. ¡°Okay¡­¡± he muttered. ¡°So you just want me to be your friend?¡± ¡°Yup.¡± ¡°And absolutely nothing else ever?¡± Freddy sighed. ¡°If you¡¯re willing to try and help me out at times, I wouldn¡¯t say no. But again, I¡¯m never going to force you into anything.¡± And again, he really meant it. He really didn¡¯t expect anything from the young man. But¡­ well¡­ that didn¡¯t mean that the he couldn¡¯t end up being useful. He wasn¡¯t tied to any local politics, and he looked determined to step into a life of danger, judging by the fact that he had been planning to head into the interspace despite being a mortal. He was a blank slate¡ªif Freddy needed the boy to be a ranged attacker, support, an illusionist, or whatever, he could get the boy a prime and sponsor him until he became useful. With Bloodshed¡¯s help, he could even use the Netherecho trick to help boost the young man¡¯s gathering. Once Sophia was back to life, it would be trivial to keep the man in perfect health. The only real risk involved was the possibility that Lucas would backstab him. But there was an easy solution to that problem. The young man clearly wasn¡¯t convinced. He sighed and placed a hand on his forehead. ¡°I am truly sorry, but this whole thing is a bit crazy to me. The difference in status is just too big.¡± Freddy sighed at that. ¡°Let me put it like this¡ªput two archhumans next to one another; if there wasn¡¯t any difference in the quality of their talent, there would be a difference in the number of stars. If there was no difference in the number of stars, there would be a difference in gathering. If there was no difference in gathering, there would be a difference in the number, power, and synergy of affinities. ¡°If there was no difference there, there would be a difference in the number and quality of abilities they had. If they had the same abilities, there would be a difference in wealth. And if there was no difference in wealth, there would be a difference in background or connections. But even if, by some miracle, you found two people who were exactly equal in status, that wouldn¡¯t last forever. ¡°People have ups and downs. That¡¯s inevitable. Eventually, there would once again be a difference in power between them. While I¡¯m not one of those naive bastards who blindly believes that everyone can get to the same level of power, I know for a fact that I can help you get powerful enough that the difference in status won¡¯t really matter.¡± The man hesitated. ¡°Again¡­ Isn¡¯t that¡ª¡± ¡°Look,¡± Freddy interrupted him. ¡°Given that I¡¯m trying to be honest with you, I¡¯m going to honestly say that you¡¯re starting to annoy the shit out of me.¡± Lucas winced. ¡°Sorry¡­ I¡¯ll keep my mouth shut.¡± ¡°Bah,¡± Freddy spat. ¡°You don¡¯t have to be quiet, but if you¡¯re gonna talk, say something else. Also, you wanted to go in to try fighting monsters, right?¡± Lucas¡¯s eyes shot wide open. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ Yeah¡­ But I¡¯m not sure that¡¯s a good idea.¡± ¡°You got me by your side. As long as I¡¯m there, you¡¯re almost entirely not going to get injured.¡± Lucas swallowed. ¡°Okay¡­ I guess¡­¡± He chuckled, still sounding a little dazed. ¡°If you¡¯re already willing to guard me, it would be rude to say no.¡± ¡°That¡¯s the spirit!¡± Freddy exclaimed, patting the man on the back. ¡°Milk me for all I¡¯m worth!¡± Lucas visibly cringed at those words. Thus, they proceeded forward, mostly in silence. Freddy tried doing some small talk, but Lucas was clearly too shaken to hold a proper conversation. Their location was actually a pretty decent bit of walking away. They had to go through a passage on the other side of the first realm, then over a short mountainous region in the second realm, through a completely wrecked swamp in the third, and finally, they stepped into the first realm where there was a semblance of danger. It was a realm of grassy plains, with growth high enough to reach the navel of an average-height man. The grass was cut up in quite a few places, but all the damage looked limited and recent, suggesting that the grass recovered rather quickly. Freddy could see a few parties off in the distance, and they looked to be fighting short, dog-like monsters with stubby legs. Lucas looked utterly exhausted from just walking alone. ¡°Hey,¡± Freddy called, causing the young man to yelp in fright. ¡°Relax. Here¡±¡ªhe gave him a flask¡ª¡±drink up.¡± ¡°Thanks¡­¡± Lucas reached for the offered drink and took a sip. He immediately spat it out. ¡°Bro what the f¡ªwhat is this?¡± ¡°Oh, sorry, should have warned you.¡± Freddy laughed with an apologetic look. ¡°That¡¯s not just water. It¡¯s a blend of water, honey, coffee, vitamins, and some electrolytes¡ªgot everything you need to stay in top shape.¡± Lucas stared flatly at him. ¡°I almost crapped myself just listening to the list of ingredients,¡± he joked, sounding a bit more relaxed. ¡°You have regular water?¡± ¡°Sure thing.¡± Lucas drank up, but not after giving the second flask a cautious sniff test. Freddy shook his head in amusement. After the young man finally gathered the bravery to proceed, the two of them started making their way forward. Freddy cleaved through the tall grass with a machete, effortlessly clearing a good chunk of the space before them. Suddenly, a patch of grass behind them rustled, and a tiny creature jumped at Lucas. It knocked the young man over to the ground and tried biting through the armor on his stomach. Lucas screamed. Before it could sink its nasty teeth into its target, Freddy grabbed the dog monster by its scruffy neck and pulled it off. Lucas was still screaming and swinging his hands wildly, unable to calm down. Freddy let him tire himself out a bit. Once the man finally gained control of himself, he broke into tears and balled up. ¡°I wanna go home¡­ I wanna go home¡­ This was a stupid idea!¡± Freddy shook his head. ¡°You gotta relax, dude. You have a full suit of armor¡ªit would take a while for this thing to chew through it.¡± Alas, the young man was incapable of calming himself. From his perspective, he¡¯d just survived through a near-death experience. Freddy sighed and snapped the monster¡¯s neck, throwing the corpse aside and raising his machete. He proceeded to cleave a small clearing around them, cutting the grass as short as possible to make sure nothing could sneak up on them. Then, he helped the young man up to his feet. ¡°First, give me that.¡± He tore the sword out of the man¡¯s hand and put it back into the scabbard, which he then unlatched and put away into his storage ring. ¡°My sword!¡± Lucas shouted. ¡°Why did you take my sword!?¡± Freddy shushed him and then focused. His blood started pouring through his fingers, and he slowly shaped it into a short metal baton. He made it a bit spiky to give it some extra punch, but not spiky enough that Lucas would seriously injure himself by accident. ¡°Here you go,¡± he gave the young man the improvised weapon. ¡°What is this?¡± ¡°It¡¯s a metal baton. Swords are tricky to use, especially for someone who has no experience. With this thing¡­ Well, you just gotta whack ''em!¡± He said, gesturing a swinging motion. ¡°Much easier.¡± ¡°Oh hell no! You¡¯re not saying I should fight one of these things by myself!?¡± Freddy raised an eyebrow at that. ¡°Well isn¡¯t that why you¡¯re here?¡± He scratched the back of his head. ¡°I thought you were trying to forcefully generate a prime vestige.¡± As far as Freddy was concerned, that was a stupid idea. Not only was that extremely unlikely to work, but it was also dangerous as hell. It wasn¡¯t uncommon to see people trying to do this, especially in areas where the local interspace was relatively safe. But if it was that easy, everyone would be an archhuman! Still, it was much more likely to work if someone fought and killed a few monsters one-on-one. With Freddy controlling the outside variables, the man¡¯s odds were much higher. But it wasn¡¯t a big deal even if it failed. Freddy could gift Lucas a prime vestige without much trouble. Sure, he wasn¡¯t going to splurge millions on one, but even a basic combat vestige, such as one with a simple strength boost, could gradually evolve to become formidable. ¡°You promise you¡¯re gonna step in?¡± the young man asked. ¡°Right? This isn¡¯t some sick joke? You aren¡¯t secretly a sadist who wants to see a mortal eaten by monsters?¡± Freddy simply laughed. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. If anything goes wrong, I¡¯ll pay for your treatment.¡± Lucas swallowed. A moment later, one of the little critters jumped out of the tall grass and into the clearing. Its eyes immediately locked on the young man holding the baton of blood. Chapter 110 - Gambling It wasn¡¯t that Freddy enjoyed watching Lucas get his ass handed to him by nearly harmless monsters¡ªno, actually, he absolutely enjoyed that¡ªbut on top of enjoying that, he had to admit that watching the young man slowly make progress was fascinating. At first, Lucas was afraid to swing the baton full force, but over time, he got braver¡ªor more desperate; one of the two, anyway. The issue with the improvised baton Freddy created was that it was excruciating to get hit by it. Lucas was a softie, and using such a sinister weapon against the monsters was a psychological challenge he struggled to overcome. Then there was the other part of it¡ªwhen these creatures actually got hit, they got considerably more aggressive. That naturally made the man hesitant. But as time passed, those mental barriers were slowly overcome. After pummeling one of the nasty things for a few minutes, Lucas finally earned his first kill. He immediately dropped to his knees, part from relief, part from exhaustion. Then, he clenched his chest. ¡°Oh god!¡± he shouted. ¡°What¡­ What the hell is happening¡ªugh!?¡± he groaned and gripped his shirt tighter. ¡°My heart is sizzling! I¡¯m seeing strange shapes! I¡¯m going numb! I¡¯m gonna die!¡± Freddy failed to hold back his laugh. ¡°You¡¯re not gonna die, dude¡­¡± Killing ascended beings granted ether to the killer. This counted for mortals, too. When a mortal human killed a monster, the ether would surround their soul and try breaking in. Naturally, without a star, there was nowhere for this ether to go, so it gradually spread through the body until it was absorbed. This ether didn¡¯t really do anything other than gradually accumulate, which could possibly result in the human expelling it from their body and generating a prime vestige. This exact thing happened to Freddy when he killed that ¡°gugu gaga¡± bastard in the 19th district. After a few seconds of clutching his chest, Lucas suddenly relaxed and breathed out in relief. ¡°Oh it¡¯s gone¡­ I¡¯m alive¡­¡± ¡°Okay then!¡± Freddy cheered and clapped his hands. ¡°How about we head back now?¡± Lucas paused, biting his bottom lip. ¡°No. I think I can fight another one.¡± ¡°You sure?¡± Freddy asked with a raised eyebrow. While it might have seemed like Freddy was forcing the poor guy into fighting these monsters, the young man was voluntarily participating. In fact, he seemed pretty desperate. While a handful of fights against these creatures would hardly be enough to cause the man to generate a prime vestige, the odds did go up with every kill, even if just a tiny bit. Still, it was barely a difference. It was like trying to buy more tickets to increase the odds of winning the lottery. There was no doubt that he had some sort of dire emergency in his personal life. Freddy was willing to show his sincerity by helping the young man out with whatever was bothering him, but Lucas was the proud type¡ªhe was the type not to ask for help unless he really, really had no other choice. While Freddy was impressed with the man¡¯s spirit and all that, he was starting to get bored. He had thought that a delve could turn into a fun adventure to ignite the spark of friendship, but this felt more like being the master of a cockfighting ring. It would be much better to buy the man some basic prime and have him ascend before bringing him out here. This was a waste of time. But Lucas did look close to giving up. Thus, Freddy shrugged, brought another dog monster over, and threw it before Lucas. He walked over to a nearby boulder, sat down, sipped on his Dubious Concoction¡ªtrademark pending¡ªand enjoyed the show. Lucas took a deep breath and brought the baton down on the monster¡¯s head without hesitation. The weapon landed awkwardly, failing to leave much of an impact. The creature snarled and got ready to jump at him, but Lucas didn¡¯t hesitate to kick the monster away while he brought the weapon back up for another downwards strike. This time, it landed pretty hard, cracking the monster¡¯s skull and killing it. The boy clenched his chest again and breathed heavily until the feeling went away. Then, he looked at Freddy. ¡°I think I can go against one more¡­¡± Rather than bring another monster, Freddy sighed and asked, ¡°What is it?¡± ¡°Huh?¡± the man blurted dumbly. ¡°What is what?¡± ¡°You know when you suggested that you ¡®theoretically¡¯¡±¡ªhe made air quotes¡ª¡±had some problem I could easily solve?¡± Lucas tensed at that and broke eye contact. ¡°That¡¯s¡­¡± ¡°I get it,¡± Freddy said, nodding a bit and getting off the boulder. ¡°Let¡¯s stop here before you get seriously injured.¡± He walked over to the young man and put a hand on his shoulder. ¡°Come have dinner with me.¡± *** Lucas was scared. Plain and simple. Some strange man had set his eyes on him, and everything about the ordeal seemed suspicious. While he was presented with many choices, Lucas was reluctant to refuse anything the man offered. A peak two-star could do practically whatever they wanted in this godforsaken city. Lucas had already been plenty rude. It was best to play along and smile. That being said, he wasn¡¯t calm at all. All this talk of mutual benefits and help and friendship sounded a little strange. Too strange. And now, he feared he might know what the man was after. He was after Lucas. Sexually. It made so much sense. The difference in status. The fact that he was being taken out to dinner. Be my ¡°friend,¡± and I¡¯ll ¡°help you out.¡± It was just a euphemism for prostitution! Of course, Lucas was not going to agree to something like that, no matter how much he really needed some money in a really short time. He shook his head to push the thoughts away. He wasn¡¯t that desperate. ¡­ Oh fuck, he was that desperate! Panic set in as they made their way out of the interspace. Lucas looked incredibly torn while the man walked confidently and calmly. Lucas had expected the man to bring him to some fancy place to flex his wealth. But no. They simply walked into the closest restaurant. They didn¡¯t even change out of the delving gear. It was a run-down place, but from what Lucas had heard, they had excellent food. Some of the customers were weak archhumans fresh out of delves, still wearing their gear, so the two of them didn¡¯t look horribly out of place. They sat on an empty table with two seats and grabbed the menu. The place was a bit pricy by Lucas¡¯s standards, but that really shouldn¡¯t be¡ª ¡°Damn, this place is a bit pricy,¡± Freddy said as he looked at the menu. ¡°Oh well.¡± That made Lucas pause. It was common knowledge that people who grew up in powerful factions had absolutely no clue what regular things were supposed to cost. They were the type to think an apple cost twenty bucks or that a cup of ordinary coffee cost fifty dollars. Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. The items on the menu were maybe a bit over twenty dollars in price on average. Just walking into a run-down place like this should be a mark of shame for any proud archhuman, but this man went as far as to declare it pricy? Did that mean he came from humble origins? But how would that make sense? Nobody made it to the peak of the second star by 23 unless they ascended when they were little kids. Maybe he¡¯s just a cheapskate¡­ But that wasn¡¯t the case, either. Freddy proceeded to order five of the most expensive items on the menu, and a wide assortment of drinks. Lucas, who had been cutting down on food recently, dug right in. It was pretty damn delicious. But the food didn¡¯t set well in his stomach. He felt his gut churn and twist. He couldn¡¯t hold it in anymore. ¡°I know I¡¯ve said this a few times already¡­¡± Lucas started, looking Freddy right in the eye. ¡°But what do you want from me?¡± Freddy sighed. ¡°I already told you¡ª¡± ¡°I will gladly accept your help. In fact, I¡¯m in dire need of help! But this ambiguity is killing me! What do you mean by ¡®friend¡¯!? Tell me in clear terms what you expect me to do, and I¡¯ll do it; even if I have to kiss your feet, I swear to god I¡¯ll do it!¡± He got a bit heated, and some of the nearby people heard him, and now they were looking at him weird. He blushed as red as a beat. Freddy didn¡¯t laugh at him. He gave Lucas a serious look as he took a sip of his drink. ¡°I¡¯ve only ever had two friends in my life,¡± he said, sighing with a morose look. ¡°I truly suck at dealing with people.¡± He sighed. ¡°I should know better. I was in the same position as you just three years ago.¡± Lucas looked surprised at that, but he remained quiet. ¡°I get it. This whole thing probably seems weird and bizarre. But I truly don¡¯t expect anything from you. If you want, I can still help you out with whatever issue you have, and afterward, you go on with your life, and I go on with mine. How does that sound?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t get it¡­ I really don¡¯t get it.¡± Rather than try and explain himself, Freddy just shrugged and took another sip. A few moments of silence passed between them, and then Lucas finally opened his mouth. ¡°My mother has a gambling problem,¡± he admitted. ¡°She wasted all of her savings. Then she stole mine. Then she started selling our stuff. And now she turned to loan sharks. She is over 60,000 dollars in debt. We can''t pay for that. I can barely sleep at night. Every day, I''m just waiting for someone to knock on our door.¡± He rested his head on his hands and slowly breathed out. ¡°Ah¡­ Loan sharks.¡± Freddy chuckled. ¡°Forgot to add that one to my list of things I can¡¯t tolerate.¡± He leaned back and stretched a bit. ¡°This really isn¡¯t something I can solve easily, you know?¡± Lucas scoffed and dropped his head. He felt bitter upon hearing that. ¡°Was it all just talk then?¡± he involuntarily said. Panic set in, and he feared that he had offended the man. But Freddy just chuckled. ¡°I didn''t say I''m not gonna do anything,¡± he said, sighing. ¡°But this is a tricky situation. Your problem isn¡¯t that you don¡¯t have 60,000 dollars to pay off a debt. That¡¯s easy. Your problem is that you have an addicted mother and sharks out for her blood.¡± Lucas gritted his teeth. ¡°Couldn¡¯t you¡­¡± ¡°How about we continue this talk somewhere where nobody will hear us?¡± Lucas nodded. Freddy paid the bill, and they walked outside. It was already late afternoon, and the sun was setting. They made their way to a bench in a lonely corner of a small park and sat down. Freddy pulled out his Dubious Concoction TM and took a large gulp. ¡°I could give you the money for this without a problem. But that will signal that there¡¯s more money for them to take. If I wanted to, I could also kill the sharks. But the problem is the people behind them. They are undoubtedly connected to one of the major factions, and those people would investigate who was messing with their business. ¡°But even if I dealt with the sharks, it won''t cure your mother. She''ll keep gambling and getting you into deeper and deeper shit.¡± Lucas bit his lower lip and clasped his hands together, squeezing tightly. ¡°She knows how badly she fucked up this time. She promised she''ll stop.¡± Freddy burst out laughing at that. ¡°Oh, man, sorry for saying it like this, but hell no she fucking won¡¯t!¡± He sighed and shook his head. ¡°It''s always the same story with gambling addicts. They always regret getting themselves into deep shit, but deep down, they''re already trying to think of ways to get more money to keep gambling.¡± ¡°Then what am I supposed to do!?¡± Lucas shouted, voice quivering and eyes tearing up. ¡°What am I supposed to do¡­?¡± Freddy shrugged. ¡°Lock her inside. Don''t let her go out.¡± ¡°Wha¡ª¡± Lucas turned his head away and muttered, ¡°She¡¯s not an animal, you know?¡± ¡°Hey, I¡¯m here to offer solutions, not happy endings.¡± ¡°But that''s going too far! Besides, she has to work.¡± ¡°What''s the point of letting her go earn money when she''ll gamble it away?¡± Lucas wanted to rebuke that. But it was true. Freddy cupped his chin for a moment and looked contemplative. ¡°How about you guys move in with me until we can find a more permanent solution?¡± Lucas took a long second to process what he just heard. ¡°Sorry, I''m not sure I heard you right¡­¡± ¡°You heard me.¡± Another moment of silence. ¡°I can''t afford the rent.¡± ¡°I''m not gonna charge you for rent.¡± Freddy grinned widely. ¡°Hell, I''m even gonna pay for the food. I''m a man of my word. If I offer to help you with your problem, I''ll do whatever it takes. Besides, I have four giant guest rooms in my apartment. I could house four entire families, let alone just you and an old lady.¡± Lucas trembled. That sounded ridiculous. It sounded suspicious. His doubts resurfaced, and he questioned the man''s motives again. It would be easier to keep his mother from going out if she didn''t have to work. But for some reason, he couldn¡¯t shake off the feeling that he would jump out of the pan and into the fire if he agreed. ¡°What''s the deal with you, man¡­?¡± He couldn''t stop himself from asking. ¡°I just can''t shake off the feeling that you''re up to no good.¡± Freddy grinned. ¡°Trust me when I say I can''t be any worse than loan sharks.¡± ¡°I sure hope so.¡± Lucas sighed deeply and finally surrendered. ¡°I really hope I don''t regret trusting you.¡± *** Freddy walked by the young man¡¯s side as they made their way to his home. The sun was setting. The bitter, biting cold couldn¡¯t push through Freddy¡¯s thick layers of armor, and even his exposed face didn¡¯t feel much discomfort. He was already used to the climate here. And frankly, if he was being honest, he didn¡¯t dislike it that much. While most of Repentawa looked like a run-down shithole, as they approached Lucas¡¯s house, it somehow managed to get worse. Potholes, abandoned stores, graffiti, buildings with peeling facades and people sharper than a knife. There weren¡¯t many people out on the street at this time. It was already getting dark, and in places like this, it was better not to be out at this hour. ¡°Oh man,¡± Lucas said, looking nervous. ¡°My mum is probably worried sick.¡± Freddy glanced at the young man with a raised eyebrow. ¡°Did you not take that into consideration when you headed out to delve?¡± ¡°Yeah¡­ About that¡­¡± Lucas chuckled nervously. ¡°She doesn¡¯t know.¡± ¡°Ah, I see.¡± Freddy chuckled, shaking his head. Then, with a sinister grin, he turned to Lucas. ¡°I have an idea. How about I come in and tell her you died during a delve?¡± ¡°What!? Are you out of your mind!?¡± ¡°What?¡± Freddy chortled. ¡°If we scare her a bit, that might convince her to stop gambling.¡± ¡°She would literally kill me if I pulled a prank like that,¡± Lucas said with a flat look. ¡°I¡¯m not joking, she¡¯s physically throw me off the top floor.¡± Freddy shrugged. ¡°You win some, you lose some.¡± Lucas chuckled at that. While it seemed like they were having a relaxed chat, Freddy stayed vigilant and aware of their surroundings. So did Lucas, actually. They had already passed two groups of men who gave them predatory looks. In the game of ¡°should we, shouldn¡¯t we,¡± the possible threat of the giant armored man won out, and they stayed their hand. Eventually, they made it to a particularly run-down building and stepped inside. The outer door looked like it had numerous locks and latches installed over time, but every one of them was broken off. Lucas pushed the door open, and they went inside. The place where he and his mother lived was on the sixth floor of the building, and after a short trip upstairs, they made it there. Immediately, both men spotted something worrying. ¡°Mom! Mom!? Oh shit!¡± Lucas shouted as he sprinted forward. The doors to one of the apartments were broken and wide open. Freddy sighed and calmly followed the young man. Lucas cursed and shouted once he entered the apartment, but thankfully, at the very least, it wasn¡¯t because he found his mother¡¯s corpse. The words were written out across the wall of the tiny apartment. YOU HAVE A WEEK TO BRING TWENTY THOUSAND OR SHE LOSES A HAND. Lucas hyperventilated and sobbed hysterically while pacing around. ¡°Calm down¡­¡± Freddy tried. ¡°They took her!¡± Lucas shouted. ¡°Oh god, they took her!¡± ¡°Okay, now let¡¯s calm down and think rationally,¡± Freddy insisted calmly. ¡°They¡¯re not gonna do anything to her. They¡¯re trying to get your money, not hurt your mother.¡± ¡°Oh god¡­¡± Lucas wept. ¡°Mom¡­¡± ¡°Come on, let¡¯s go,¡± Freddy said. ¡°Bring me over to them.¡± Lucas looked anxious at that. ¡°Please be careful. They¡¯re holding her hostage, don¡¯t¡ª¡± ¡°Do you take me for an idiot? I¡¯m not gonna burst through the door fists swinging. Come on, get up and take me there.¡± Lucas nodded and rushed outside. Freddy followed him. Chapter 111 - Leviathan Among Sharks FinNado Fastest loans at the lowest interest rates! Freddy had never approached loan services of any kind¡ªother than the bank. Thus, he was a little surprised by what he saw. He had the image of a considerably sketchier place in mind before coming there. But by all means, the business they arrived at looked pretty legit. It looked pleasant from the outside and clean on the inside, with a small, modernly decorated lobby scattered with a few plastic houseplants and a polite-looking young lady sitting at the front desk. Promotional pamphlets were laid out on neat racks, with happy-looking generic families and couples on the pages right beside a bunch of special offers for loans and extra benefits. Lucas gulped and walked up to the reception desk. ¡°Welcome to FinNado Financial Services; how can I help you?¡± The woman sounded cheerful and pleasant, with a wide smile and bright eyes. ¡°I¡¯m here for Hellen Black,¡± Lucas said. The woman¡¯s eyes suddenly darkened, and Freddy noticed a quick smirk flash on her lips. That actually shocked him quite a bit. It wasn¡¯t uncommon for ordinary folk to get jobs at extremely sketchy places. Seeing someone who seemed actually evil was kind of refreshing! However, other than the quick smirk she shot Lucas, she also gave Freddy a strange look. He waved at her with a broad smile on his face, flashing his pearly white teeth. A moment later, she grabbed a small crystal and whispered something into it. Then, she turned to face them. ¡°Please wait a moment,¡± she said. Freddy wasn¡¯t keeping his gathering hidden, but he was keeping his aura subdued. That was enough that nobody under the second star would be able to tell how powerful he was, but¡­ well¡­ nobody was going to think he was a mortal. If anything, not being able to sense someone¡¯s gathering was just a good way to tell that someone was dangerous. Not even a minute later, a man in a suit walked out of a door on the other side of the room. He was followed by four men wearing similar get-ups. He was a two-star, no further than 40% along in progress. Clearly not a combatant. His dark brown hair was starting to gray along the temples, but he looked healthy, with spotless skin and rested eyes. His slightly uneven beard was cut down to short stubble, and his brown eyes shone with apprehension as he glanced at Freddy and then finally looked at the young man beside him. ¡°I take it you are Lucas?¡± he said in a gruff voice. Lucas nodded. ¡°And who might your friend be?¡± Freddy knew that the man could roughly sense his power. ¡°Oh, me?¡± he asked sarcastically as he walked over and swung a hand around Lucas¡¯s neck. ¡°I¡¯m just Lucas¡¯s buddy! We go way back; ain¡¯t that right, Lucas?¡± Lucas looked at him in confusion but nodded anyway. ¡°I heard you guys were quite generous,¡± Freddy continued. Then, he bowed with exaggeration. ¡°Thank you for helping their family when they were experiencing such harsh financial trouble. Really, the world needs more heroes like you!¡± ¡°I am not in the mood for sarcasm,¡± the man said. ¡°Are you in the mood for a punch to the throat, then?¡± Freddy asked with a smile. The men put their hands on the metal batons sheathed on their hips, but Freddy could tell that they were nervous. Realistically, if a fight broke out, they had no chance of winning against a peak two-star. ¡°Look,¡± Freddy said with a chuckle. ¡°Cut the shit. I¡¯m not here to cause trouble.¡± He patted Lucas on the back. ¡°I hired this fella as a helper for my delves, and I¡¯d really appreciate it if this could be resolved peacefully. I¡¯ll give you the money, and we''ll walk away without any funny business, okay?¡± The man nodded at that. ¡°That would be for the best.¡± Freddy proceeded to sign them a check to cover the full debt, and they brought Lucas¡¯s mother out. It turned out that they weren¡¯t quite as gentle as they could have been. They brought a middle-aged woman with long black hair out of the back room. She looked surprisingly young, maybe only in her late thirties. That wasn¡¯t what got Freddy¡¯s attention, though. Her face was bruised, and she looked dazed. Her lip was cut, and within her slightly open mouth, Freddy could see that she was missing a few teeth. Lucas¡¯s expression instantly turned livid. He clenched his teeth and fists, glaring murder at the men. Freddy knew that the best choice would be to walk away and leave it at that. It would be trivial to pay for some quick healing for minor damage like this. But something within him stirred at the sight. Lucas started shaking, and tears from the repressed anger started running down the side of his face. The men released his mother and she walked over to him. ¡°Lucas¡­¡± she said with lisp. ¡°I¡¯m so¡­ sorry.¡± ¡°Now this is no good,¡± Freddy said in an exaggerated, disapproving tone ¡°I advise you to leave it at that, sir,¡± the suited man said. ¡°We have settled our business, and¡ª¡± ¡°Settled our business?¡± Freddy laughed. ¡°Sure, sure, we have settled the debt issue; there are no problems there. But who will pay for this woman¡¯s healing? Who will pay for the psychological damage?¡± ¡°I am warning you,¡± the man said. Suddenly, Freddy released the full power of his aura. The knees of the weaker among the guards buckled at the unbridled suppression, and the receptionist woman yelped as she lowered her head. ¡°You are warning me?¡± Freddy asked as he took a step forward. Sweat visibly dripped down the man¡¯s face, but he remained composed. ¡°What exactly do you mean by that?¡± Freddy took another step. ¡°You couldn¡¯t possibly be threatening me. I mean, what kind of a fucking idiot¡±¡ªhe took another step¡ª¡±would threaten someone in this position?¡± ¡°I get it,¡± the man said, gritting his teeth. Then, he brought out a check and scribbled something on it. He presented it to Freddy. It was a check for five thousand dollars. ¡°Here you go. That should be more than enough to cover the medical bill.¡± Freddy slowly and neatly folded it three times before putting it in his mouth and swallowing it. The man snarled. ¡°Fine!¡± Then he pushed Freddy¡¯s 60,000-dollar check into his chest. It fell to the ground. ¡°Be stubborn then. We¡¯ll see who has the last laugh when¡ª¡± Before the man could finish the sentence, Freddy¡¯s open palm struck him across the face with a deafening slap. The man tumbled into one of his guards and nearly fell to the ground. His left eye bled, and he spat out a few teeth. The whole side of his face had a hand-shaped print on it. ¡°Bastard!¡± one of the weaker guards shouted and swung a metal baton at Freddy¡¯s head. It clattered against Freddy''s skull with a loud clang, only to bounce off without leaving a mark. Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. Before the man even had the time to regret his choice, the bottom of Freddy''s foot slammed into his chest, sending him flying through the wall and into the back office, where he crumpled to the ground, dead on impact. For a moment, everyone stood in stunned silence. Then, all hell broke loose. The guards tried scattering and running away, but there was no point. They were already cornered. With every punch, Freddy¡¯s fist shattered bones and cracked skulls. The boss tried pulling something out of the storage ring on his finger, but before he could, Freddy''s leg slammed into his hip, breaking his entire body in half. The receptionist screamed and tried running away, only for one of the men¡¯s bodies to come flying at her. The sharp sound of her spine breaking was the only sound she released. Lucas looked in abject terror, but his mother cheered, ¡°Get the bastards!¡± ¡°Mom!¡± Lucas shouted at her. ¡°What!? They deserve it! Rotten animals¡­¡± ¡°Damn, Lucas,¡± Freddy said after finishing the final guard off. ¡°I didn''t know your mom was chill like that.¡± ¡°This is too far¡­¡± Lucas muttered with a glance at the dead receptionist. ¡°This is way too far¡­¡± ¡°Nah,¡± Freddy said. ¡°Your mother is right. These people are animals. The world is better off without them.¡± ¡°But didn''t you say that doing this was dangerous!?¡± Lucas reminded him. Freddy simply smiled at that. ¡°Go outside and head a few blocks away. I''ll be there soon.¡± ¡°Come on, sweetheart. Listen to the kind sir and move outside,¡± his mum said while tugging on his sleeve. ¡°I''m coming, god, let me go!¡± The two of them went outside and ran. Meanwhile, Freddy took a close, careful look at the crime scene. He first gathered the bodies and then threw the spark of undeath on the pile. The mass of wriggling meat got to work, devouring the flesh and bones, leaving nothing but the metal and plastic pieces of clothes behind. He scooped those up together with the blob of flesh and stored them in his ring. As it all vanished, one item remained¡ªa small ring. It was the storage ring that the man had. He put that in his pocket. He also made sure to pick up the check that dropped to the ground. With that, most of the evidence was taken care of. There wasn''t much more he could do to hide his tracks. With that out of the way, he donned his helmet and headed outside. It was already nighttime, and few people were around. Even if someone saw an armored, bulky man, that was hardly a precise identifier. Without any bodies as evidence, it would be challenging to puzzle out what exactly happened. Things like this happened in Repentawa all the time. Whoever owned the place would most likely pin it on a competitor. At any rate, Freddy wasn¡¯t particularly concerned. People didn¡¯t lightly pick fights with powerful two-stars. Even if someone suspected him, challenging him over a minor incident like this just wasn¡¯t worth the trouble. After walking into a nearby alley, he proceeded to take off his armor. It took him a bit, but he was relatively fast. After storing it in his ring, he put on a spare set of clothes. After throwing out all of Janhalar¡¯s junk, the space inside the ring felt practically unlimited. It wasn¡¯t, of course, but it was plenty big. He walked back in the direction he and Lucas came from and soon found them waiting. Lucas looked perturbed. Meanwhile, his mother lightly picked at the split on her lip, trying to feel the damage. What an easy-going woman. ¡°I''m here.¡± Lucas jumped at the sound of Freddy¡¯s voice. Before the boy could say anything, Freddy cut him off. ¡°Let''s get your mother treated, and then we''ll talk.¡± *** Healing the damage to the woman''s lip and face was both cheap and quick. A nature-affinity healer simply sped up her natural recovery, and in a few breaths, the damage was almost entirely gone. Her missing teeth were a bit more trouble. Lucas and Freddy waited outside the dentist''s office while the woman¡¯s teeth were being fixed. Lucas gave Freddy a strange look. ¡°Don''t you think that was a bit too far?¡± ¡°You looked like you wanted to tear them apart,¡± Freddy said. ¡°That woman just happened to be working there,¡± Lucas said with a dark look. ¡°I don''t think she deserved to die.¡± ¡°On the contrary,¡± Freddy said. ¡°In my opinion, ¡®people who happen to be working there¡¯ are the fucking worst.¡± ¡°People don''t always have a choice.¡± ¡°Sure they do. They can always kill themselves.¡± Lucas winced at that. ¡°Don''t buy into that shit, Lucas. People always have a choice. Saying otherwise is just an excuse. Everyone claims they don¡¯t have a choice. Either that or they say that ''if it wasn¡¯t them, it would have been someone else¡¯. And if they don''t have a choice, who says I do? Should I let her live to act as a witness and get me in trouble? If she didn''t have a choice¡­ then neither did I.¡± They both went silent for a bit. ¡°Are you still up to come live at my place?* Freddy offered again. ¡°Do I have a choice?¡± Lucas said with a chuckle. ¡°Always.¡± Lucas chuckled a bit at that. ¡°Thank you. Really. I''m not really a fan of¡­ murder,¡± he said with an awkward chuckle, ¡°but¡­ you stood up for us. I appreciate it.¡± ¡°No problem. That''s what friends are for.¡± Lucas snorted. ¡°Right. Friends¡­¡± A few moments later, Lucas¡¯s mom finally left the dentist''s office. ¡°Wucas, wook,¡± she slurred, then pulled her mouth wide open to showcase her teeth. ¡°I haw a mouf fuw of feef!¡± Lucas chuckled and got up, putting an arm on his mother¡¯s shoulder just as she looked like she was about to trip. ¡°That¡¯s great, mom¡­ Let¡¯s sit you down for a bit.¡± ¡°Okie dokie,¡± she said as she fell into the chair. They gave her some time to sober up, but she fell asleep in the chair instead. ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± Freddy said, picking the woman up. ¡°I¡¯ll carry her.¡± ¡°Thanks.¡± They walked towards Freddy¡¯s place. The whole time there, while she wasn¡¯t snoring loudly, Lucas¡¯s mom muttered things and chuckled to herself. Freddy laughed. ¡°Your mom is quite tough.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± Lucas confirmed. ¡°She had a rough life. We both did.¡± ¡°She¡¯s young, too. She¡¯s what, forty?¡± ¡°35.¡± ¡°Oh, wow,¡± Freddy said, feeling a bit awkward at the discovery. She looked a bit old for that age. ¡°And how old are you?¡± ¡°I¡¯m eighteen.¡± ¡°Hmmm¡­¡± Lucas chuckled. ¡°Yeah, she had me at seventeen. I had an older brother, too. Three years older.¡± ¡°Oh wow. And had, huh?¡± He paused. ¡°My condolences.¡± ¡°It¡¯s okay. And thank you. But¡­¡± He looked hesitant for a moment. ¡°While I¡¯m not so coldblooded that I¡¯d say I don¡¯t feel bad about his passing, I can tell you he was dead to me even before that.¡± ¡°What happened?¡± ¡°It¡¯s a long story,¡± he said, laughing with a pained look in his eye and shaking his head slightly. ¡°We don¡¯t have the same dad. While I never met mine, his dad is a total piece of shit.¡± ¡°Yeaaah¡­¡± Freddy sucked air through his teeth. ¡°Some quick mental math would suggest so. Your mum was seventeen when she had you and your brother was three years older, so¡­¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± Lucas gave his mother a sad look. ¡°The bastard is a wealthy two-star. My brother actually always looked up to him; can you believe that? He was lucky enough to manifest a good prime and become an archhuman. You know what he did then? He abandoned us to go work for his dad. He completely cut us off.¡± ¡°Ouch. Sorry to hear that.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t be. He was violent and generally unpleasant. It would have probably been worse if he stayed.¡± ¡°What about your mum? You said she has a job, right?¡± Lucas winced. ¡°Yeah¡­ She is, uh¡­¡±¡ªhe coughed¡ª¡±a professional dancer.¡± ¡°I¡¯m guessing¡­¡± ¡°Yeah, yeah¡ªof that kind.¡± ¡°Well, what¡¯s wrong with that?¡± Lucas gave him a strange look. ¡°Well¡­ nothing, but you know¡­ People and judgment.¡± ¡°I get it.¡± ¡°What about you, big guy?¡± ¡°Who, me?¡± Freddy grinned. ¡°It¡¯s complicated. I was abandoned at birth, then adopted, then abandoned again. I worked through my teens and manifested a vestige right about when I turned 21. A lot of stuff happened since then.¡± ¡°Wait, wait, what!? You said you¡¯re 23 now, right?¡± ¡°Yup. My birthday was like a week ago.¡± ¡°Whoa, whoa, whoa,¡± Lucas said with a huge frown. ¡°You¡¯re trying to tell me that you went from mortal civilian to peak two-star in two fucking years!? How in the¡­ what!? There¡¯s no way¡­¡± Freddy laughed. ¡°Well, I became a peak two-star like 9 months ago at this point.¡± Lucas stared at him with eyes wide open. ¡°That can¡¯t be possible. Wouldn¡¯t that make you a world record holder?¡± Freddy shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Maybe. But the world is a large place. I¡¯m sure someone beat my time at some point in history.¡± ¡°Still¡­ how did that happen? Are you one of those freaks who constantly rushes at things above your level?¡± ¡°I¡¯d say it¡¯s more the other way around.¡± ¡°How didn¡¯t you like¡­ lose any limbs?¡± ¡°I did. I lost my whole body once.¡± Lucas squinted at him. ¡°I think you might be fucking with me.¡± Freddy laughed. ¡°Eh¡­ I¡¯ll explain it one day.¡± After another while of walking, they made it to the building where Freddy was living. A short trip up, they made it into his apartment. ¡°Wow¡­¡± Lucas muttered. ¡°You know what? I think you just became my best friend.¡± Chapter 112 - Painful Memories Freddy lay in his bed. He had just taken a shower but hadn¡¯t yet gotten ready to sleep. It was 9 p.m., and he wasn¡¯t tired yet. With his two guests, he didn¡¯t want to bring Bloodshed out to watch movies with him, so he instead just crashed in his bed and thought about some stuff. He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a storage ring. This was the ring that belonged to the man he killed just earlier that day. And now, he finally decided to take a look at it. His eyebrows instantly jumped. The storage ring wasn¡¯t that big. But it was full of prime vestiges. ¡°Is this how the man stored his money¡­?¡± Freddy wondered, mentally counting up the primes. There were fifteen of them, all packed into small glass boxes, leaving just enough space for a few other personal items, including the man¡¯s ID and wallet. Feeling quite excited, he took the primes out one by one and examined them. His expression fell as he realized that all of them were trash. The talents were either extraordinarily vague or obviously bad, and none of them had more than one affinity, which also didn¡¯t work too well with the attached talent. Elbow Blades, Hard Head, Enhanced Vascularity¡ªbut with earth rather than blood affinity, Metallic Nails, Sharp Hair, yada yada. He sighed. It''s all garbage. They would still be worth almost six figures a piece just by being prime vestiges, but these were most likely just meant to be used to store value. Prime vestiges were frequently used by rich folks as a way to inflation-proof their money. There would always be people to sell a prime to. Somewhere deep down, this made Freddy a bit frustrated. How many such ¡°trash primes¡± rotted away in some rich fucker¡¯s storage ring while an uncountable number of people had to sacrifice their whole lives just for a mere chance to buy one? If this random-ass nobody had fifteen just in his storage ring, Freddy wouldn¡¯t be surprised to discover that there was enough of them out there for every single mortal alive. But, although he had his qualms with the practice, he wasn¡¯t about to play Robin Hood and give these away to the poors. Not only would that probably not even help those people, it would be a waste of much-needed money. While they weren¡¯t worth much individually, their cumulative value could buy a decent talent. Freddy was reluctant to sell them, though¡ªthey might be registered as the ownership of the man he killed, and if there were records of the man buying or owning them, that would directly link Freddy to the man¡¯s death. There was also the wallet, which had a few thousand dollars in it. Better than nothing. Oh, and there was a small dagger inside; it was even inscribed. The enchantment made it cut things more easily, but without a tzenekite imbuement, and with the mediocre material, the effect could only handle a few slashes before having to recharge its energy. Still, it was of decent quality, and Freddy could always use a quality knife. He put the primes back into the ring and placed the ring into a safe that was located in the corner of his room. At the very least, the ring would come in handy. Sophia would need one, given that he sold hers off. He went back to the bed and then, with a thought, pulled an object out of his personal storage ring. The red ball snarled at him from within the glass container. This was the prime holding the blood sampling talent. For a brief moment, Freddy thought about giving it to Lucas. It would be an absolutely perfect way to thoroughly piss off Janhalar even in death. But it was just too valuable to do that. It wasn¡¯t just because of the price tag that Freddy wouldn''t give it away. The people would notice. The combination of blood, death, and life was mighty. It would make anyone stand out, which wasn''t a good thing in this city. But now that he knew more about talents, he realized something unexpected. This prime had a massive flaw. The prime had a talent purely related to blood. But it didn''t only have the blood affinity. Affinity shards were incredibly expensive, but they were certainly well within the budget of someone like Janhalar. So why wouldn''t the man get a second or even third affinity? Why stick to just blood? It was simple¡ªbecause talents evolved to accommodate everything an archhuman could do. Janhalar undoubtedly had a blood-related talent. Adding more affinities risked screwing up his next evolution. Well, if he got his hands on Bloodshed, he would have gotten a unique affinity, but that would still be tied to blood, so he wouldn¡¯t lose anything. With the prime Freddy took from Janhalar, there would be no issues at the first star. But with every new star, the talent would become less blood-related. This didn¡¯t necessarily have to be a problem. But Janhalar was a great example of how powerful a single affinity could be with a dedicated talent. It wasn¡¯t as simple as ¡°the more affinities the better¡±. Sighing, he put the prime vestige away and got up. He left his room and approached one of the guest rooms. He lightly knocked on the door. ¡°You can come in,¡± a weak voice called from the inside. Freddy cracked the door open, seeing Lucas on a chair beside the bed where his mother was sleeping with a goofy grin on her face. The guest room had two separate beds. Lucas and his mother were wearing spare pajamas. The apartment had come loaded with a full wardrobe of clothes in all sizes for both sexes. Money truly made everything so much easier. The woman snored, choked loudly on whatever she seemed to inhale, coughed a few times, and then returned right back to peaceful sleep as if nothing had happened. Then she started snoring again. Freddy chuckled. ¡°That is one loud sleeper.¡± ¡°Oh you have no idea,¡± Lucas said with a chuckle and a shake of his head. ¡°The medication is holding her back from displaying her full power.¡± ¡°Does she talk?¡± ¡°Talks, walks¡­ fights with shadows¡­¡± He sighed. ¡°I sometimes get the urge to lock her into a box or something while she sleeps.¡± Freddy laughed but kept his voice quiet. ¡°So¡­ are you gonna go sleep in the other room?¡± Lucas looked over at the second bed in the room. ¡°Nah,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯ll stay here for tonight. She¡¯ll raise hell if she wakes up and doesn¡¯t know where she is.¡± ¡°All right, whatever you want.¡± Freddy smiled. ¡°Hey, uh¡­¡± Lucas started, looking hesitant. ¡°Would you¡­ Actually, never mind.¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°It¡¯s nothing.¡± ¡°Come on, say it.¡± Lucas hesitated for another moment. ¡°I was planning on going to get our stuff tomorrow, but I¡¯m afraid that someone might break in while we¡¯re away. Would you be in the mood to come with me if I went now?¡± ¡°What about your mom? Didn¡¯t you say she¡¯s gonna raise hell if she wakes up?¡± Lucas chuckled and awkwardly scratched his cheek. ¡°She¡¯s a big girl. She¡¯ll live. We wouldn¡¯t be gone for long, anyway.¡± ¡°Nah, don¡¯t leave her alone. If you want, I¡¯ll go get your stuff for you.¡± Lucas¡¯s eyes shot open at that. ¡°You¡¯d really do that¡­?¡± Freddy shrugged. ¡°Sure, why not?¡± For a long moment, Lucas simply stayed there, then nodded. ¡°Thank you, Freddy.¡± ¡°Can you just tell me what you need me to pick up?¡± ¡°Do you have a piece of paper?¡± Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°I¡¯m a peak two-star. Just tell me, I won¡¯t forget anything.¡± ¡°Oh yeah¡­¡± After being told about all he needed to bring, Freddy visited the apartment. Thankfully, nobody seemed to have entered it while they were away¡ªnothing else had been damaged besides the broken door and vandalized wall. ¡°Hey!¡± someone shouted from the outside. ¡°Who¡¯s there!?¡± Freddy turned around, peeked outside, and saw an older, balding man in a white wifebeater shouting from the stairway to the higher floor. The man was a one-star, no further along than 50% progress. But given his pathetic physique, he was clearly not a combatant; given his aged appearance, he had likely only become an archhuman later in life. ¡°Uh¡­ Hi?¡± Freddy greeted with a wave. ¡°I¡¯m just here to pick up the stuff of the family that lives here. They¡¯re moving out.¡± ¡°Moving out, are they!? Hmph!¡± the man snorted as he rushed down, his house slippers clapping as he angrily marched up to Freddy. ¡°They haven¡¯t paid me the last three months¡¯ rent! And now I come and see the doors broken and the wall vandalized! Who will pay me for this!? Tell those good-for-nothing mother and son that I¡¯ll take legal action if they don¡¯t give me the money two days from now at the latest!¡± Freddy sighed, feeling quite annoyed at the man¡¯s beratement. He released his aura for a brief moment, and the man suddenly paled. ¡°Ah¡­ I¡­ I, uh¡­¡± He rubbed his hands together nervously. ¡°I meant to say that uh¡­ I am willing to negotiate the terms of payment! Just¡­ please¡­ tell them I¡¯ll be waiting. Any time next month is fine.¡± ¡°How much do they owe you?¡± The man blinked. ¡°E-excuse me?¡± ¡°Just give me a number.¡± ¡°I¡­ Uh¡­ I believe it''s¡­¡± He glanced at the broken door and licked his lips. ¡°Eight¡ªno, seven thousand should be fine.¡± Freddy pulled out seven bills from his ring. They were thousand-dollar bills. But before he handed them over, he asked, ¡°Did they have any deposits to take back?¡± ¡°That money is¡­ for the damage.¡± ¡°And you¡¯re telling me this shitty little apartment is over two thousand dollars a month?¡± The man went quiet. ¡°Ah, I am sorry, sir, I misspoke. This old head is going a bit bad these days, hahaha¡­! Four thousand dollars is all they owe me.¡± Freddy handed him four bills. The man took them and turned around, rushing up the stairs. Freddy released a bit of his aura, and the man started running. ¡°Fucking vulture.¡± Shaking his head, he went inside to collect all he¡¯d been told to take. He placed all the clothes into garbage bags to carry them more efficiently, and the rest went into his storage ring. There really wasn¡¯t much to take. There was nothing of real value. Well, unless sentimental value was taken into account. He grabbed a notebook. It was Lucas¡¯s old journal. Even though he was a bit curious, out of respect, he didn¡¯t read it. There was also a pile of childhood drawings, all drawn on what seemed to be A4 format paper. But some of the paper was cut up, with parts of the drawings missing. The photos had a similar story to tell. It was important to remember just how expensive photography was in the post-Rift era. It required either special materials or a light-affinity archhuman. These pictures were relatively low in quality, and the colors could be barely discerned. Still, they must have cost over a hundred dollars apiece. Thus, it was no surprise that they cut the third person out instead of throwing the pictures away. There was also a cute mug up on a shelf. BEST MOM EVER, it said in colorful text, with a large heart and crude smiley face, signed with BY LUCAS. But the space just past the signature felt coarse, almost as if someone had sanded off a part of the signature. He could vaguely discern AND before another name that had been thoroughly scraped off. ¡°Jesus, this is fucking depressing¡­¡± This mug was the last thing he had to pick up. Just as he placed it into his storage ring, he heard another voice coming from behind him. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose a two-star would be interested in stealing mugs and clothes.¡± Freddy whirled, suddenly feeling a sense of danger. A man stood in the doorway, grinning widely at him. He was tall and handsome, with a beardless, gentle face and green hunter eyes. His long, black hair reached down to his chest, flowing over his fancy designer clothes. Freddy had spent a lot of time researching anyone with any amount of status in this city. The newspapers gave out a lot of information. Thus, he immediately recognized the man. He was one of the less well-known young masters from one of the five major factions. His name was Jason Gem, and he was part of Gem & Faller Co. They were primarily a corporate entity; some of the companies they owned ran casinos. During his research, Freddy wasn¡¯t capable of pinning down precisely what other dirty businesses they were in, but it wouldn¡¯t be too far-fetched a guess to assume they dealt with loans. And the fact that this man was here was a sign that that was likely a good guess. A casual probe revealed the man to be a two-star at around 170% essence capacity. While that seemed weaker than Freddy, Freddy¡¯s abilities were lagging far behind what a warrior of his power should have access to, and his talent had limited use in direct combat. Facing this man could be dangerous. ¡°Is there something I can help you with?¡± Freddy asked, keeping his guard up. ¡°No¡­ No,¡± the man said, smirking. ¡°I just got some news that an ex of mine got herself into trouble, so I thought I¡¯d come and offer some help, but alas.¡± He shrugged. ¡°It looks like someone already took care of it.¡± That caught Freddy by surprise. He presumed this man was here to check who was causing trouble. But now, by the sound of it, it seemed that he was actually the father of Lucas¡¯s late brother. Freddy hid any signs that those words made an impact on him. ¡°Ah, is this about the kidnapping?¡± Freddy smiled pleasantly. ¡°Relax; she successfully escaped after an incident broke out. I¡¯ve hired her son as a helper, so I took it upon myself to protect them for the time being.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± the man mused. ¡°I suppose you are trying to say you had nothing to do with that¡­ ¡®incident¡¯?¡± Freddy chuckled. ¡°Trust me, well¡­ I wouldn¡¯t have gotten violent, but if I had the opportunity, I would have taken care of it myself. Unfortunately, I was busy delving with Lucas at the time.¡± ¡°And you have proof of this?¡± Freddy put on a confused expression at that. ¡°Proof? Of course I do. We were having dinner at the restaurant closest to the passage; I even still have the receipt with the exact time; it¡¯s in my wallet. But I don¡¯t see why I¡¯d need to provide proof that I wasn¡¯t involved.¡± He put his hands on his hips and quirked an eyebrow. ¡°No offense, but I¡¯m starting to doubt your motives for coming here¡­ Are you really here to help out?¡± He squinted his eyes at the man. The man chuckled. ¡°Cut the shit, you bastard. Who¡¯s your owner? Why do you think you have the right to fuck around with our business?¡± ¡°Whoa, what''s with the change in tone? I¡¯m not sure you understand who you¡¯re talking to,¡± Freddy said, pointing behind his shoulder with a thumb. ¡°I moved in a week ago, and I¡¯m just starting my life here. Let alone having an ¡®owner,¡¯ I don¡¯t even know anyone other than Lucas.¡± ¡°So you have the balls to act without backing?¡± The man¡¯s expression darkened. ¡°I can tell you¡¯re strong, but you¡¯re not at the level where you can just do whatever you want. We¡¯re gonna meet again. This isn¡¯t over.¡± The man flashed Freddy a middle finger and walked back, heading down the stairs and out of the building. Freddy stood there in silence for a few seconds. His mind churned. If that man walked away, that meant trouble. If he wanted to prevent that, he had to act immediately. ¡°Bloodshed.¡± The tiny skeleton appeared and restained its presence. ¡°Yes, Master.¡± Freddy opened the window. ¡°Follow that man and update me on his location.¡± Bloodshed nodded and climbed out of the window, jumping off and onto the neighboring building. Freddy left the clothes there for the time being and slowly followed after the man. Unfortunately, as soon as the man walked out, he entered a car. Other than the driver, there were two men sitting in the back, most likely a couple of guards. ¡°Fuck!¡± Freddy cursed. ¡°Keep following them, Bloodshed!¡± ¡°Understood.¡± Freddy ran as fast as he could after them. While he accelerated slowly with his body mass, once he reached top speed, he could almost keep up with the car. Bloodshed, meanwhile, was more than fast enough to keep up with them. It leaped from one building to another, with grace Freddy was surprised to see. ¡°Get out of my way!¡± he shouted at a couple of thugs who obeyed, jumping aside as they barely avoided collision with Freddy. Thankfully, almost nobody was outside at this hour, leaving him nearly empty streets to run through. The spirit kept updating him on where to go, and he kept running, following after the men. He had a rough idea of where they were headed¡ªall of the major factions had their headquarters on the city''s outskirts. As the car kept moving, Freddy kept following, and before long, the car stepped out of the city and onto the short stretch of road that went through the woods between the city and their headquarters. ¡°Now!¡± Freddy shouted through his mental connection. ¡°Understood.¡± *** Jason was having an interesting day. A smirk was glued to his face. Hellen Black. When he heard how far the woman had fallen, he had been excited to pay her a visit. Sure, she was already sagging with age, but there was something special about seeing women begging on their knees. And what a coincidence, that out of all the places she could have taken a loan, she''d go to a business he was directly tasked with overlooking. He didn¡¯t believe in fate, but boy, was that a lovely coincidence. As soon as he got the report the woman had been taken in, he had immediately cleared his evening schedule to come and play. But rather than a fun evening of toying with that slut, he was met with a murder mystery and an even more mysterious suspect. While Jason was confident in his power, he wasn¡¯t stupid enough to pick a direct fight with a peak two-star. His father¡¯s company had informants in all the other factions, so he would know by the end of the evening whether that man had been lying about being unassociated or not. At any rate, he was excited. While some among his brothers and sisters loathed trouble, he reveled in it. Where was the fun in living life from one corporate meeting to another? No, life wasn''t meant to be lived that way. Work was good, but play was better. He needed some excitement sometimes. Some action. Some fighting. And sometimes, he just wanted to see some bloodshed. ¡°Hmm!?¡± His driver suddenly tensed, looking alarmed. ¡°What''s wrong?¡± Before he even got the answer, he spotted it. A bloody skeleton spirit, no taller than a grown man¡¯s waist, stood in the middle of the road, right in the way of their speeding car. Rather than get out of the way, it braced itself. One moment, they were about to run it over. The next, the car was spinning through the air. They crashed into the road, rolling over several times before coming to a stop upside down. With his tough physique, Jason was rattled but uninjured, but the driver was dead, and the two guards in the back groaned as they rushed to open the door and leave the car. Jason kicked the doors open and pulled himself out. The skeleton stood in the road, staring at them menacingly. And from behind it, barely illuminated in the darkness of the forest, with knuckles of spiked blood and muscles bulging under his thick winter clothing¡­ The mysterious man was slowly approaching, glaring with murder in his eyes. Chapter 113 - A Very Powerful Enemy A few snowflakes fluttered through the air. The middle of the woods was quiet and dark, with the only exception being the flickering headlights of a crashed car and the cursing of the men trying to escape it. Freddy watched while he walked right past Bloodshed. ¡°Master,¡± the skeleton called. He turned to face it. Bloodshed raised a clawed hand. The aura Bloodshed¡¯s body was made of was mostly stable, but on the bones of its palms, it was starting to look fuzzy, with streaks of color flaking and fraying as if it were about to begin unraveling. ¡°I overexerted myself.¡± Freddy clenched his jaw. This could be a tough fight without Bloodshed. But he¡¯d live. ¡°Go back in for now,¡± he told the skeleton. ¡°I can handle this myself.¡± It nodded and evaporated into a thin, bloody mist that floated over into Freddy¡¯s ring and seeped back into his soul. He raised his fists and slowly moved forward. ¡°Bastard!¡± Jason shouted as he pulled a crystal out of his storage ring. It was a communication crystal. Freddy¡¯s pupils narrowed. The man was going to ask for help! He didn¡¯t have the time to construct a javelin, nor did he have the accuracy to hit the crystal. He immediately started running forward as he released blood into his hand and immediately coagulated it into an irregular, messy shape. Then, he threw the shape into the air in front of him and struck it with a double-star Flowing Strike. The impact was loud, sounding like metal smashing into glass as his Gore Knuckles crumbled and the chunk of blood shattered into shrapnel-like shards. Before Jason could react, the tiny shards reached him, many of them cracking against his rock-hard skin, leaving nothing but superficial injuries, but a smaller piece also struck the crystal, cracking it and causing it to flicker a few times before shutting off. ¡°Fuck!¡± Jason shouted as he threw the crystal aside and growled. ¡°You¡¯re gonna regret that!¡± Freddy charged, preparing a crude javelin. Judging by the way the shrapnel bounced off the man¡¯s skin, he had the earth affinity¡ªthat probably meant he had the metal affinity, too. Just as Freddy made this conclusion, the man extracted a shortsword from his storage ring. It was made of white metal, and it even had a few inscriptions along its surface¡ªthey were glowing slightly, indicating that the weapon was imbued with a small amount of tzenekite. One of the two guards finally crawled from under the car and jumped in front of Jason. Freddy didn¡¯t even slow down, simply ramming into the guy at full speed¡ªthe momentum of the body slam was enough to break several of the man¡¯s bones and knock him over the car. The second guard leaped onto the car and jumped at Freddy, only to receive a crude javelin right into the throat. The man¡¯s neck was shattered, and he crumbled to the ground, unmoving. At that moment, Jason grasped the chance and jumped forward with impressive speed, almost as if his shortsword was carrying him forward. His blade vibrated intensely, and a second later, it stabbed right into Freddy¡¯s stomach, embedding into it. The man grinned and pulled the sword up, cutting a large gash up Freddy¡¯s torso. The feeling was profoundly itchy, with the buzzing blade tearing through flesh and ripping skin apart. Freddy felt a flash of panic at the nasty cutting power of the weapon, yet Jason¡¯s smile dimmed, likely because the cut wasn¡¯t as deep as he expected¡ªit was barely bleeding. ¡°What the¡ª¡± His curse was interrupted by Freddy¡¯s kick. Jason showcased excellent skills as he leaned back and jumped away from the strike. From the way the man seemed to be moving, his shortsword was indeed carrying him around. The trick behind this was revealed once the man extracted several dozen smaller blades, and with a thought, made them levitate and point towards Freddy. Telekinesis! Freddy shouted internally. The blades flashed forward at the speed of flying arrows, far too fast for Freddy to dodge. Rather than try to avoid them, Freddy pulled out the spark of undeath and threw a Flowing Strike at it. The blades sank into his body, and Jason grinned as he prepared to thrust again. Then, Freddy¡¯s fist landed. The burst of healing pushed the embedded blades out of Freddy¡¯s body. A moment later, the spark of undeath returned back to the storage ring. Jason¡¯s eyes widened, but he was already fully engaged in a forward thrust. Freddy couldn¡¯t count on his resistance alone. He thrust his arm forward and allowed the blade to sink through his hand. Then, with a double-star Hydraulic Flex, he pinched the edge with his fingers. Two stars flashed within Jason¡¯s soul as he cast Vibrating Blade again with twice the power. Freddy felt his grip on the sword loosen as his fingers went numb, but the power of his pinch was enough to embed his fingers into the metal, keeping the sword in place. Jason, who had clearly been counting on getting his sword out, was now forced to abandon it as Freddy threw out another kick. The man¡¯s eyes bulged as he channeled his Telekinesis, desperately trying to pull the sword out of Freddy¡¯s vice grip. The telekinetic force was enough to pull Freddy forward by a few feet, causing the soles of his shoes to scrape along the asphalt, but it wasn¡¯t enough to get the sword out of his grasp. Jason stopped using his talent and roared in anger, clenching his fists and staring with bloodshot eyes. The wind picked up, blowing snowflakes past the two men. Their hair played in the gale, twirling and dancing to the tunes of dry, icy air. The cold was intense at this time of hour, harsh enough to bite through their clothing and send shivers across their skin. The forest whistled, the headlights on the mangled car flickered, and the darkness of the woods thickened. For a long moment, Jason looked hesitant. He glanced behind his back. The road stretched into absolute darkness. The man¡¯s jaw clenched. He turned back around, briefly looking at one of the dead guards, staring deeply into the javelin of blood stuck deep in the man¡¯s neck. Freddy maintained eye contact, and he could almost see the numbers running through the man¡¯s eyes. Jason cursed under his breath, clicked his tongue, and pulled out another shortsword, this one clearly less fancy than the one Freddy slowly pulled out of his wounded hand and placed into his storage ring. The two men stared at each other for a long moment. Then, they charged. Freddy swung a spiked fist, while Jason deftly dodged aside, slashed a deep gash right under Freddy¡¯s rib, and continued running behind him until he jumped over the car. The man braced himself on the other side, combining a Tectonic Strike with his Telekinesis to kick the entire car at Freddy, then he dashed forward, bracing himself to jump over the car and strike his opponent, who he expected would be busy blocking the vehicle, but he clearly did not expect for the entire car to suddenly bounce back and nearly twice the speed he launched it at. ¡°Wha¡ª¡± he shouted as he jumped, but he wasn¡¯t fast enough; the car hit his leg just above the ankle and tripped him. Freddy saw the man trip and charged forward, throwing a punch, only to miss as the man spun in the air and slashed at his stomach, landing a strike that would have disemboweled him if he weren¡¯t so tough. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. But rather than reel at the strike, Freddy ignored it as he grabbed the man by the leg. Hydraulic Flex activated with both stars, causing Freddy¡¯s grip to bend the man¡¯s metallic bones and crack his skin of stone. Jason screamed as he flew through the air as Freddy slammed him full force into the asphalt. Surprisingly, the man was only stunned for a moment by the strike. His eyes sharpened with a primal determination. His stars flared in his soul as he swung his sword with a Tectonic Strike, sped it up with his Telekinesis, and imbued it with the horrifying power of vibration, sending it whistling through the air with a sound that made the skin curl, vaporizing any snowflakes it came into contact with, and with a loud thud, it impacted Freddy¡¯s wrist, sending an intense burst of pain up his arm. But the sword didn¡¯t cut through. Jason¡¯s face slowly morphed into the picture of panicked despair as he witnessed his most powerful attack fail, and saw his blade merely embedded in his enemy¡¯s arm, just barely touching the bone with its apex. ¡°What are you made of!?¡± the man shouted as he tugged on the sword to pull it out. Rather than reply, Freddy grabbed the man¡¯s knee with the other arm and then, using leverage, pushed and pulled at once, creating the sound of metal bending to the breaking point as the man¡¯s knee finally failed to hold out and snapped with a deafening crack. Jason screamed bloody murder and slashed again, leaving another gash in Freddy¡¯s arm, but Freddy grabbed him by the other leg and threw him into the asphalt again, and this time, he swung a lot harder. The wind was knocked out of the man¡¯s chest, and he fruitlessly gasped for air as he was thrown again, slamming into the asphalt once more, this time slamming head-first as he had no time to brace himself. His sword clattered across the road as it left his grasp. The man muttered something as his deformed head bled. Freddy raised a leg and brought it down with a Flowing Strike. Cracks and brains spread across the asphalt with a loud crunch that echoed through the nearby woods, and then, it all went silent. Freddy took a deep breath and stepped back, shaking a bit from the adrenaline rush. Although the man was much stronger than he expected, all told, that was a relatively easy fight. He had suffered a few surface injuries but wasn¡¯t even really tired, and his essence reserves were going strong. While Freddy¡¯s abilities and overall skill were definitely far behind where they should be, his raw physical strength and toughness were enough to brute force a victory against most melee fighters around his level. He couldn¡¯t rely on just this, though. Someone with enough speed and ranged power could toy with him and destroy him without giving him a chance to fight back. His opponent seemed to have been wary of his javelin, likely presuming that it was far more lethal than it really was. But to be honest, Freddy wasn¡¯t sure whether his javelin throw could pierce the man¡¯s Stone Skin. Most likely, anything but his most powerful throw would have just bounced off, but his most powerful throw was about as accurate as a fortune teller¡¯s forecast of someone¡¯s future love life. And that was when it wasn¡¯t windy as hell. Taking a deep breath, he calmed himself and waited to feel the click in his soul. A moment later, the spirit ability unlocked. ¡°Blood Sacrifice.¡± The three dead men were drained of all color as their blood pooled into a blob above Freddy¡¯s head. Then, the blob turned into raw blood essence and conjured a skeleton right about the same height as Freddy. ¡°Make the scene look like a wild spirit attack,¡± he told the skeleton. ¡°Whatever Master desires.¡± It proceeded to leave claw marks on pretty much everything in the area, including the corpses, the trees, the road, and the mangled car, and it even cut down a nearby speed limit sign. For a long moment, Freddy stared at the storage ring on Jason¡¯s finger. He was tempted to take it, but if he did, that would immediately make the scene suspicious. A spirit wouldn¡¯t take a storage ring. He could get around this by making all the bodies vanish, but that would likely just link this incident with what happened at the loan shark, which would link it to Lucas and his mother. And, ultimately, to him. Briefly, he got the idea to just check the contents and maybe see if he could steal a thingamabob or two, but then he remembered the biometric requirement. Storage rings could only be used by the owner unless that owner specifically permitted another person to use their ring. It was possible to override this slowly, but it took special equipment and days of work to do that. This requirement vanished immediately if the owner died while wearing the ring, which would make it easy for Freddy to override it instantly. But if he did that, he¡¯d leave his biometric data and lock the ring again. He could remove the lock if he wanted to, but that would make the ring ownerless, creating clear evidence that someone had tampered with it. Sighing deeply, he decided that whatever treasure was in there wasn¡¯t worth the trouble. He also took out the other sword from his storage ring. After bending it a bit more to remove the visible finger marks, he made Bloodshed cut the sword into pieces, which they simply threw across the street. Given that Blood Sacrifice had made all of their blood vanish, any remaining blood stains were Freddy¡¯s blood. He made sure to remove them with Bloodshed¡¯s help. The spirit also tracked down all the shards of coagulated blood scattered around the scene. Without its help, Freddy could never find all of them. While it looked a bit over the top, the desired effect was achieved¡ªthe scene no longer looked like something a human had caused. With that out of the way, Freddy healed his remaining wounds, changed into a spare set of clothes, and ran through the woods until he was back on the city streets. Soon enough, he was back in Lucas¡¯s apartment, where he picked up the bags of clothes and then headed home. He checked on the mother-son pair, finding both of them sound asleep. While Lucas¡¯s mother was snoring quite loudly, Lucas himself wasn¡¯t much quieter. Freddy chuckled at the sight and left their things in the corner of the room. He piled the bags atop one another and carefully placed the sentimental stuff on the nightstand beside the woman¡¯s bed. Just as he was about to head out, he glanced at the sleeping woman. What would she think if she knew what he did that night? Would she be grateful? Suddenly, his face darkened. Even though he didn¡¯t leave any conclusive evidence, the two incidents happening so close together would definitely be enough to spark suspicion. There was absolutely no way to prove that he was guilty of killing Jason. But with the man¡¯s death, people would definitely look deeper into what happened at FinNado. It was good that he had been cautious. The shark loan incident wasn¡¯t enough for someone to risk angering a powerful two-star. But it could bring some trouble, nonetheless. He left the two of them to sleep in peace and walked over to his room. There, he jumped on the bed and looked up at the ceiling. He should probably head to bed soon, but he wanted to let his beating heart calm down a bit. There was no way he¡¯d be able to fall asleep like this. But as his mind kept bouncing between the problems he¡¯d created today, he didn¡¯t feel stressed out or anxious about the consquences. For some reason, he found himself grinning ear to ear. He clenched his fist and raised it into the air. ¡°Bring it on.¡± *** Right at the crack of dawn, several people gathered around a gruesome sight. Surrounding the corpses that looked drained of all blood, with nasty claw marks all across their bodies, was a team of private investigators. They were constantly scratching their heads and shrugging¡ªtheir confusion was apparent from a mile away. Not too far from the site, three people stood side by side, two men and a woman. The first man was muscular and of average height, with a rough face and an aggressive scowl on his brow. His black hair was interspersed with white locks. He wore a light jacket. Beside him stood a tall man who appeared delicate. His black hair reached his shoulders, just brushing his fancy white leather jacket. His face was relaxed, and his gaze was disant, as if he couldn¡¯t care less about the site before him. To their side stood a woman. Her hair was also black, reaching all the way to her lower back. Her eyes appeared hazy; her gaze was soulless, but a light smile hung on her lips. One of the investigators reluctantly walked over to them. From what they¡¯d deduced, this appeared to be a spirit attack. All the evidence pointed to that being the case. But for whatever reason, the investigators all independently felt that something was off. Their intuition told them that something about the scene didn¡¯t feel right. The car seemed to have flipped over and then bounced around for some reason. Pretty much everything around the scene was scratched up with massive sets of claws. And yet, Jason¡¯s body showed signs that blunt force had been used to kill him, as evidenced by the crater where his head had been smashed to bits, and the man¡¯s leg, which had been broken by an incredible force that had bent his metallic bones out of shape. While spirits weren¡¯t exactly known for making sense, this was a bit too strange. Still, the evidence was clear¡ªthis had been caused by a spirit. Nothing indicated that that wasn¡¯t the case. But the investigators all agreed that there was likely also something else behind this incident. The three people finished listening to the evaluation, and then they all shook the man¡¯s hand. Once the investigator left, they turned to face each other. The gruff man spat to the side and glared at the scene. ¡°I don¡¯t like it.¡± The delicate man hummed with a finger pressed to his lips. ¡°While it seems like a complete coincidence, we should still investigate the FinNado incident.¡± ¡°Yup,¡± the woman said in a cheerful voice. ¡°This could just be a feeling, but I feel like we just made a very powerful enemy. Let¡¯s alert Father of this.¡± Chapter 114 - Spikeroot Caverns It was a bright, rare morning where the sun shone above the gray city of Repentawa. The dazzling light pierced through the windows, illuminating a sight of breakfast and conversation. Freddy and Lucas sat at the kitchen table, eating cereal. While they ate, they talked. For the most part, they steered away from serious topics. At that moment, they were talking about the plans they both once had for their future, before their lives were suddenly thrown off course. Both the men had a similar story to tell. They had planned to work and save money. Although Freddy still believed he had always been running an uphill race, at least he didn¡¯t have family making things worse. It wasn¡¯t just that he didn¡¯t have a mother gambling all his savings away; he was just plain living alone. It was much easier to control finances when one person was in charge of everything. Freddy had lived a frugal and slow life, mostly staying inside and eating poverty slop. Meanwhile, Lucas¡¯s mom didn¡¯t let him do that, always insisting that such a pathetic life was not worth living. While Freddy strongly disagreed with this outlook, she did kind of have a point. Numerous people saved money their whole life, only to either die before they became archhumans or to ascend so late that they had no hope of making any real progress before old age caught up with them. Granted, this was pure hypocrisy coming from a woman who insisted that she¡¯d ¡°win big¡± any day now and get both herself and her son a prime. Speaking of the woman, the doors to the guest room finally cracked open, and she peeked through. ¡°Hey¡­¡± she greeted, looking a bit befuddled. ¡°I¡­ Hello! Good morning!¡± She tried being cheerful, waving and smiling, but it came across as rather forced. ¡°Can somebody please tell me what¡¯s happening?¡± Lucas chuckled. ¡°Come sit with us. I¡¯ll tell you everything.¡± She looked down at the loose pajamas she was wearing and then slowly closed the door. The two of them could hear her gasp and loudly ask, ¡°Wait, why is all our stuff here!?¡± A minute later, she walked out wearing an ordinary shirt and jeans. She walked up to the table and sat down, nervously wiping her sweaty palms on her thighs as she looked between Freddy and Lucas, not knowing who to ask first. Lucas kindly explained the situation to her. The woman was absolutely furious that the young man had tried delving as a mortal. Again, kind of hypocritical, but Freddy didn¡¯t find it appropriate to butt in. After getting an elaboration on the deal between Freddy and Lucas, she simply looked between the two of them, looking confused. ¡°What¡¯s the catch?¡± she asked. At that, Lucas chuckled and shrugged. ¡°I dunno.¡± Then, he grabbed the spoon and continued eating. The woman looked to Freddy for an explanation. He sighed. ¡°I already told you a hundred times, Lucas. There is no catch.¡± ¡°I¡­ Not to be rude,¡± the woman said with a forced laugh and a smile that didn¡¯t reach her eyes. ¡°But what do you want from us?¡± ¡°Like mother like son, I guess¡­¡± He sighed and chuckled. ¡°Just think of me as an eccentric, lonely, wealthy guy who just happened to move into a town where he knows nobody so he befriended a random person and made him and his mother move in with him!¡± He clapped. ¡°I take no more questions!¡± He got off the chair and stretched a bit. ¡°But seriously though, I don¡¯t expect anything from you two. Hell, I don¡¯t even expect you to trust me. ¡°I have no plans to force you into anything. But if you want, you can stay here. I can get you both a prime and hire you as helpers on my delves. And¡­ yeah, that¡¯s about it.¡± Lucas suddenly choked on his cereal and then looked at him with terror. Freddy raised an eyebrow. ¡°What?¡± The woman brightened and grinned widely. ¡°Oh, I¡¯d love to! Lucas, say you want to become a helper!¡± ¡°Whoa, whoa, whoa,¡± Lucas yelled, raising a hand. ¡°Freddy, man, we never said anything about making¡­ my mom go delve with us!¡± Freddy raised an eyebrow. ¡°No offense, Lucas, but she is ten times more fit than you are. And that¡¯s a conservative estimate.¡± He winced at that. ¡°That¡¯s right, Lucas!¡± she criticized. ¡°You are very weak!¡± ¡°Mom!¡± The young man groaned. ¡°Ugh, it isn¡¯t part of my job to exercise all day. Oh god¡­¡± He buried his face in his hands. His mom suddenly looked offended at that. ¡°Well¡­ okay then¡­ if you¡¯re going to be like that¡­ I can¡¯t believe you want to deprive your mother of becoming an archhuman. Do you not know how many years of youth that would buy me!?¡± ¡°I never said that!¡± he shouted. ¡°I just don¡¯t¡­ Never mind.¡± ¡°Then what¡¯s the problem?¡± she asked him. ¡°Are you ashamed of me?¡± ¡°I just don¡¯t want you to come with us, okay!?¡± the young man shouted. ¡°What if you end up like¡­¡± His throat tightened. ¡°Well what if you end up like your brother, hmm?¡± she asked without a hint of reluctance and crossed her arms. ¡°Do you think I¡¯m happy to let you go down the same path?¡± ¡°Just for the record,¡± Freddy said, raising a hand. ¡°If you two delve with me, unless something goes very, very wrong, I doubt anyone will be dying. If I take you as helpers, it will only be to zones where I¡¯m at least mostly confident that I can keep you safe. I mean, obviously, accidents can¡¯t always be avoided, but that¡¯s a reality you¡¯ll have to accept if you want to go down this path.¡± ¡°See?¡± Hellen said, walking over to Lucas, who turned his head away. ¡°Mr. Cliff said it will be fine!¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­¡± ¡°Look,¡± Freddy said again. ¡°This is a discussion between you two. Besides, I need to first go earn some money before we can get started. I¡¯d have to get you some decent primes, and on top of that, you¡¯d need some equipment and maybe even a gym membership¡­¡± He mentally tallied up the money he¡¯d need to get them on their feet. While he was busy thinking, he failed to notice the shocked stares the mother-son duo were giving him. When he noticed them, he raised an eyebrow. ¡°Something wrong?¡± ¡°Uhm¡­¡± the woman muttered. ¡°I¡­ Not that I¡¯m not grateful, but¡­ isn¡¯t that going a bit far?¡± ¡°What do you mean?¡± he asked, genuinely puzzled. ¡°Freddy¡­¡± Lucas whispered, swallowing hard. ¡°Just how much were you planning to invest in us?¡± ¡°Well¡­ You¡¯d need at least a million dollars for a decent talent and then maybe half a million for the¡ªwhy are you staring at me like that?¡± ¡°That is an insane amount of money!¡± Lucas spat. ¡°Seriously, why would you go that far!?¡± Freddy laughed. ¡°Why would I do anything less for someone I consider a friend? If I got you some trash talent and you got injured or killed, I¡¯d feel horrible. And hell, even besides that, If I¡¯m gonna hire helpers, I¡¯d want them to be¡­ helpful, you know?¡± Lucas chuckled in disbelief. ¡°I seriously can¡¯t believe this guy¡­¡± ¡°Lucas, don¡¯t be rude!¡± his mother chided. ¡°Thank the man!¡± ¡°No,¡± Freddy said, shaking his head. ¡°I don¡¯t want, or need, any thanks.¡± He pulled a pair of keys out of his storage ring. ¡°Here are some spare keys for you two. Feel free to do whatever you want for today.¡± ¡°Oh!¡± the woman shouted. ¡°Crap, I¡¯m late for work!¡± ¡°No, you¡¯re not,¡± Lucas suddenly said, grabbing her by the arm. ¡°Lucas¡­¡± ¡°You¡¯re quitting your job,¡± he said assertively. ¡°Honey¡­ We can¡¯t just depend on Mr. Cliff for everything¡­¡± ¡°Yes, you can,¡± Freddy said. ¡°What he said,¡± Lucas confirmed, pointing a finger at Freddy. ¡°Look¡­¡± ¡°There is no looking, Mom. I¡¯m done looking. Consider my eyes closed. I¡¯m sorry for putting it this way¡­ but I don¡¯t trust you anymore.¡± Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. She bit her lip. ¡°I already told you I¡¯ll quit.¡± ¡°Uh-huh.¡± ¡°I mean it this time.¡± ¡°But you don¡¯t need to go to work,¡± Lucas reminded her. ¡°You¡¯re quitting your job and staying here with me.¡± ¡°I can¡¯t just stay inside all day¡­ I¡¯ll go crazy!¡± ¡°Then I¡¯ll go with you. Wherever you want.¡± She bit her lower lip. ¡°Lucas¡­¡± ¡°I know what you want, Mom. Forget about it. If you really want to keep going this way, I swear to god I¡¯ll move to another city and you¡¯ll never hear from me again.¡± Her head dropped. ¡°Can¡¯t I just go hang out?¡± ¡°Mom¡­¡± ¡°I have friends there!¡± she insisted. ¡°Those people aren¡¯t your friends. And I won¡¯t walk back on what I said.¡± ¡°Sorry for butting in, but,¡± Freddy started. ¡°But Miss, you¡¯re addicted as shit. You look and sound insane.¡± The woman¡¯s mouth shot wide open, and she looked incredibly offended. ¡°I¡­ Excuse me?¡± ¡°You heard me. I can see that my friend is struggling, so I¡¯ll help him out a bit¡ªif you go gambling even a single time, I¡¯ll kick both of you out.¡± He winked at Lucas. The boy smiled and mouthed, ¡°Thank you.¡± Freddy flashed him a thumbs up and turned around, leaving the woman bewildered, and her son grinning from ear to ear. ¡°Anyway,¡± Freddy shouted from the other end of the room. ¡°I¡¯m heading outside since I have stuff to do.¡± He walked into his room and started putting his armor on. He walked back into the living room and waved. ¡°See you guys later!¡± ¡°Bye-bye!¡± Lucas waved cheerfully while his mother sat there in stunned silence. *** On his second-ever delve into the local interspace, Freddy had no interest in playing around. He was all business as he headed straight for one of the more distant realms¡ªright where the danger started becoming serious. He would need a lot of money for all sorts of things in the future. The torn clothes that had become a cursed material were still in his storage ring, waiting to be formed into a proper item. That would cost a tremendous amount of money to get done. Then there was Lucas and his mother, the possibility of opening some sort of side business, purchasing ether- and ability-growth medicine, getting a membership in a large training center, or maybe even just building a private one¡ªthe path he had to walk was like a road where each step had a separate toll booth¡ªand there was a truck that would run him over unless he started running. He had spent some time studying the different paths he could take, and he learned quite a number of interesting things. One of the things that characterized the interspace was that with every step away from Earth, the number of possible passage realms multiplied at an exponential rate. Just within the first ten steps, there were thousands of different realms. Naturally, the real numbers were a bit limited due to things like inaccessible passages or realms too dangerous to delve into, but the number still grew at quite a rate. By empire law, the first 10 steps of public passages like this were legally required to be open to the public. In this case, when all the inaccessible realms were accounted for, Freddy had access to exactly 552 realms. Every single realm at the 11th step¡ªexcept for the sealed ones¡ªwas claimed by one of the local factions. To enter those, one either had to pay the access fee or enter with special permission. Out of the 552 realms, most in the first few steps were either harmless, low-level, or had been thoroughly plundered, leaving only 23 C-grade realms that hadn¡¯t been fully explored yet, and a single dungeon open to the public. While this seemed like plenty, the reality was that the only reason those C-grade realms weren¡¯t fully looted was that they were either too dangerous or not rich enough in resources for anyone to bother. Sighing, he picked one of the¡ªrelatively speaking¡ªeasier ones. It was considered quite poor overall, but there was a cave system with a decent number of quality herbs growing there. Few people went there because the cave was full of toxic gas that left people with all sorts of debilitating sicknesses if inhaled, and on top of that, it had a number of strange monsters that specialized in poison and acid attacks. The way there wasn¡¯t that long¡ªit was only seven steps out, most of which were through A- and B-grade realms. It only took him half an hour to reach his destination. On the surface, the realm was a barren wasteland. Pale yellow rocks covered every inch, with a searing hot sun blazing above. The temperature was somewhere between 50 and 60 degrees Celsius. It was damn hot. With his thick armor, Freddy felt like he would boil alive. But he was a tough guy¡ªwith his peak two-star physique, he could survive much higher temperatures than this. On the surface of the realm, there were neither monsters nor delvers¡ªjust a bunch of scurrying bugs that hid under the rocks. It took only a brief walk to stumble upon an entrance into the underground cave system. Although he was confident in his strength, he had to be incredibly careful. He had seen first-hand just how frighteningly dangerous caverns could get. ¡°Bloodshed,¡± he called upon the spirit. Red mist seeped out of his ring, and the little skeleton appeared, cocking its skull at him. ¡°What is it, Master?¡± ¡°I¡¯m gonna leave you in charge of taking care of the monsters here. When you kill them, make sure you don¡¯t break their bodies too much. Gather the corpses into a pile. I¡¯m gonna pick them up once I¡¯m done foraging.¡± ¡°Understood.¡± Right from the get-go, the caverns were much colder than the surface. They were pretty dry, though, at least compared to the ones Freddy had seen on Faralethal. The light from the surface already barely reached him. He clicked a button on his helmet and a flashlight lit up on his forehead. He thanked himself for the foresight to buy such a piece of equipment. It was much more convenient than a handheld torch. His little spirit friend ran off down a nearby path. Literally seconds later, Freddy heard a nasty screaming sound. Bloodshed dragged a corpse back. It looked like a pale, sickly, green gremlin, with pointy ears and a horrifyingly ugly face. It had long claws and serrated teeth, and from what he could see, they were glimmering with a wet sheen of venom. Bloodshed had simply cut its throat, doing minimal damage to its body. ¡°Good job,¡± Freddy said with a smile. While Bloodshed scouted ahead, he followed behind it. The more the caverns sloped down, the more noticeable the thin haze of gray smoke became. Despite the fact that he was wearing a body suit that filtered the air he breathed in, he could still smell the rancid stink of sulphuric compounds in the air. The smell gave him a light headache, but the gas thankfully wasn¡¯t immediately lethal. It would only severely fuck him up in the long term! Well, not him¡ªhe had 1% Lifesteal. Nothing could fuck him up in the long term. Except soul damage. And mental trauma. And perhaps some kinds of curses that couldn¡¯t be affected by his healing. But other than that, nothing. Except perhaps something else he might not be aware of. Putting those disturbing thoughts aside, he refocused on exploring the cave. Specifically, he paid close attention to the walls and ceiling. The plants he was hunting for looked quite similar to naturally formed stalactites and stalagmites. They were called spikeroots. The easiest way to tell them apart was by seeing the way they were oriented. Stalagmites and stalactites either pointed up or down, while these plants grew at various angles. There were plenty of them growing there. He took a small, sharp knife, and started nicking random plants. He could judge the quality of any plant just by seeing how his talent reacted. The ones of higher quality had greater vitality within them. This was a near-universal rule with extremely few exceptions. The size and color of the spikeroots seemingly had no correlation with the amount of vitality within. The only thing he found the high-quality ones had in common were these veins that could be seen on the inside. The unripe ones had very faint black veins pushing through the green flesh of the plants, while the overripe ones had thicker ones but they were less defined. Only the plants with thick, clearly defined veins were the best for picking. The free space in his storage ring filled up surprisingly slowly. The specimens that were just right were rare, and he found himself nicking dozens of mediocre ones before finding even a single high-quality piece. Hopefully, this meant he¡¯d earn good money for selling the batch he gathered. Meanwhile, Bloodshed was engaged in guerilla warfare with the local whatever-the-fuck-they-were-called. Venom gremlins, he decided. He would call them that. The venom gremlins were practically completely powerless against Bloodshed. They weren¡¯t physically strong, smart, or fast. They relied on venomous claws and teeth. Naturally, that was almost completely useless against a skeleton spirit. They came in pretty big numbers though, and Freddy found himself helping out just to move forward faster. As they made their way deeper, Freddy started finding pieces of spikeroot that were much, much higher in quality than those found higher above. These had a notable difference compared to the others¡ªtheir flesh wasn¡¯t green, but yellow on the inside. Perhaps this wasn¡¯t even the same plant but a cousin of sorts? Maybe those growing higher up simply didn¡¯t grow well and were thus green. At any rate, he kept making his way deeper. Eventually, he encountered a bit of an obstacle. These thick, dry bushes grew over everything, with small, sharp leaves growing out of the thin, veiny branches. It wasn¡¯t difficult to move through, but it did cover the walls on all sides, making it very difficult to spot the spikeroot. The gray haze was also getting thicker, and it was starting to make it difficult to see far in the dark. He sighed, wondering whether it was time to go back. ¡°Master,¡± Bloodshed suddenly called. ¡°Hmm?¡± Freddy turned, spotting the spirit who had just returned from scouting up ahead. ¡°Did you find something?¡± ¡°There are no monsters in the cave ahead. But there is a passage.¡± Freddy¡¯s eyebrows shot up. ¡°Really?¡± This realm was supposed to be a dead end. There were a few passages, but they were supposed to be sealed due to danger. Perhaps this was one of them. Unable to hold back his curiosity, Freddy made his way forward and followed Bloodshed¡¯s lead. Soon enough, they arrived before it. The wall surrounding the passage was completely overgrown, and the passage itself was indeed sealed. As expected, it was one of the dangerous passages that had already been discovered. But it wasn¡¯t quite what he expected it to be. He pulled out a machete and cleaved the bushes, revealing an old warning sign that had been hammered into the wall. The sign looked to be at least fifty years old. WARNING! ANOMALOUS PASSAGE TYPE: ONE-PERSON INSTANCE DUNGEON (DETAILS UNKNOWN) LETHALITY RATE: 100% VICTIMS: 6 ONE-STAR ARCHHUMANS; 2 THREE-STAR ARCHHUMANS. Freddy¡¯s eyebrows shot up. Instance dungeons were rare. They had restrictions on how many times they could be entered, and usually, they had a maximum limit for how many people could join at once. Only one person at a time could enter this one. The thing that characterized instance dungeons was that entering one was an incredible risk. From what he could see, this one wasn¡¯t really ¡°sealed¡±; it was just walled off by a metal barrier that was already rusting. Nothing ever left instance dungeons, so there was no reason to fully seal them. The main problem with instance dungeons was that it was incredibly difficult to tell what was inside them. The most reliable way to check was to send someone in and hope they survived to come out and share what they found. This one had been braved by two separate three-stars. And both had died in the process. This was quite shocking. There were naturally many among the powerful who were ready to brave risk for a possible reward, but three-stars were the apex in the Northern Belt. He couldn¡¯t help but wonder whether those people were forcefully sent in after getting defeated and captured by their enemies. Freddy cupped his chin as he hummed. While this was interesting, he had no intention to risk going inside. ¡°Fuck that shit,¡± he muttered as he prepared to turn around. Then, he noticed something strange. ¡°Bloodshed?¡± The skeleton was nowhere to be found. Chapter 115 - Century of Solitude Freddy''s heart nearly stopped in the half-second Bloodshed seemed to be missing. But then he remembered something. In the next moment, he appeared in the Netherecho, using his body as a shield against anything that might try to attack him. There, he found Bloodshed staring at the metal barrier behind which the passage was barricaded. ¡°Jesus Christ almighty, Bloodshed!¡± Freddy shouted. ¡°You scared the fucking shit out of me! Don¡¯t disappear like that!¡± Bloodshed turned its skull to face him, surprised at his sudden outburst. ¡°Apologies, Master. I was merely curious to see something.¡± Then, the skeleton disappeared again, returning to reality. Freddy¡¯s little reaper projection sighed as he touched his body to return to physical reality again. There, he was welcomed by the deafening sound of metal being bent out of shape, causing him to jump back in fright. He spotted Bloodshed pulling the metal barrier, prying it open as it revealed the pitch-black void that was the entrance to the dungeon. ¡°Bloodshed, you¡­ What are you doing?¡± The skeleton finally removed the barrier and stopped, staring into the black portal. The size of entrance to the dungeon was rather significant, about the size of a large double door. Like the gaping maw of the void, it loomed before them. Freddy swallowed hard at the intimidating sight. ¡°Bloodshed, you aren¡¯t planning to go in, are you?¡± ¡°No, I simply had to remove the barrier to check something.¡± And with that, the spirit vanished into the Netherecho again. ¡°What the hell is it doing¡­?¡± Freddy wondered as he followed. There, he was welcomed by a rather mesmerizing sight. Passages didn¡¯t look much different in the Netherecho than in reality. But this dungeon was an exception. While in reality, it appeared like a black void of darkness, in the Netherecho, it looked like an entrance into a world of endless shifting runes and mystical symbols¡ªit was a sight that took his breath away. This was something he had never heard of. Were all instance dungeons the same? If so, what were these strange symbols? Bloodshed was staring hard at them, and it even stepped forward to push a hand into the soup of symbols, startling Freddy. But nothing bad happened. It stood like that for a few minutes. Then it pulled its hand out and looked back at Freddy. ¡°Master, I have confirmed that this dungeon would pose no danger to me.¡± It raised its head slightly. ¡°If you wish, I can go inside and inform you of what I find.¡± Freddy was stunned at the suggestion. ¡°It won¡¯t pose a danger to you? How do you know?¡± ¡°I simply do. I can feel no threat from the conceptual composition of the dungeon.¡± ¡°Can¡¯t you tell what¡¯s inside from those¡­ runes?¡± Bloodshed shook its head. ¡°I fear I lack the power to decipher the contents.¡± ¡°I see¡­¡± Freddy contemplated it for a second. Bloodshed couldn¡¯t lie about stuff. If it was certain, it was safe to believe its words. But he was still apprehensive. ¡°How long would it take?¡± ¡°Around an hour,¡± it said. Freddy hummed and thought about it. Frankly, even though it said it was safe, he wasn¡¯t sure whether it genuinely knew that without a shadow of a doubt. He was scared. This wasn¡¯t just a disposable pet, this was Bloodshed! If something happened to it, he¡¯d be heartbroken. But it was confident that it would be safe. And frankly, knowing the contents of the dungeon could benefit him greatly. These things were rare, and they always came with some sort of special benefit. Some instance dungeons could only be accessed once by a person. Some, like the Tower of York, could be accessed several times, but only when the participant went up a star could they enter again. And others simply had a cooldown period, ranging from days to years. If this one could be entered several times, he might have just found a cash cow that he could milk for fantastic profit. Of course, it could be too dangerous for him to enter. It had already killed two three-stars, after all. But nobody could know why those people had died. It could have been because they weren¡¯t properly prepared, or simply just as an accident. ¡°Fine,¡± Freddy finally said. ¡°But be careful! Don¡¯t take any risks whatsoever, even if it¡¯s to find additional information!¡± No matter what this dungeon could offer, risking losing Bloodshed would never be worth it. It nodded its head and left the Netherecho. Then, it slowly walked forward, sinking into the darkness of the portal and disappearing out of sight. Freddy breathed out slowly, feeling his heart rate elevate. The next hour of waiting was nerve-racking. He kept track of time down to the second, and when the time went over one hour, he nearly crushed the watch. ¡°Fuck!¡± he shouted, getting up and pacing around tirelessly. Time kept ticking. Bit by bit, his anxiety spiraled. There was absolutely nothing he could do but wait. Eventually, a deep fear gripped his heart. Could it be that Bloodshed had died in there? It had already been an hour and fifteen minutes. If it didn¡¯t come out soon, didn¡¯t that mean that¡ª His thoughts were interrupted as the little skeleton walked out of the void. ¡°Oh, you¡¯re alive!¡± Freddy cheered, walking over to give the skeleton a hug. ¡°Master, I have discovered something unusual,¡± it suddenly said. ¡°Hmm?¡± he hummed as he pulled out of the hug, his expression turning serious. ¡°What¡¯s in there?¡± ¡°Nothing.¡± ¡°Huh?¡± ¡°It is a small space, around ten times Master¡¯s height in length and width. Other than air, there is nothing inside the dungeon. Even the Netherecho is completely void of ether.¡± Freddy froze at that. So¡­ it was just a room-shaped empty space? ¡°I don¡¯t get it¡­¡± he whispered. ¡°So you just spent an hour in an empty room?¡± ¡°No, Master,¡± it denied. ¡°Not an hour.¡± Before Freddy could even ask, it elaborated. ¡°The time I spent inside equals roughly one hundred years.¡± The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°What?¡± he blurted dumbly. That was impossible. Dungeons with time-dilation properties weren¡¯t too rare. Hell, even Tower of York dilated the time for the people who entered. But the time-dilation was rarely more than ten times of what passed outside. 100 years in a single hour was¡­ mind-boggling. It simply didn¡¯t make sense. ¡°Are you okay?¡± he quickly asked. ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t I be?¡± ¡°Well¡­ you just spent a hundred years in there! Did that¡­ do something to you?¡± ¡°Why would it?¡± it asked. ¡°I simply waited for it to pass.¡± ¡°Damn,¡± Freddy thought, feeling rather impressed. Bloodshed shrugged. ¡°Ether constructs like myself are not affected by the passage of time. Whether a hundred years or a million, it does not matter.¡± ¡°Cool¡­ As long you¡¯re okay.¡± However, Freddy''s excitement about the possibility of entering quickly faded. ¡°So it¡¯s basically a death trap.¡± It made sense that two three-stars perished there. Hell, if the empress herself had gone in, she would die, and likely within days. Whoever went in would have to go with a hundred years worth of food, water abilities¡ªor at least a way to recycle water they lost, a lot of medicine in case something went wrong, a way to keep the air fresh, a way to keep the heat from killing them, and a way to keep their sanity intact. As for the food, even if someone just ate 2,000 calories a day, which should be enough to survive, they would still have to bring a type of food that could last a hundred years. Freddy could only think of something like pure, refined sugar, and even that would most likely degrade. And at 2,000 calories, that would be over 20 tons of sugar! Things couldn¡¯t be taken into dungeons unless the person who entered could carry them themselves. So unless someone brought a huge box of storage rings full of sugar, bringing that much in would be really difficult. Even then, what about other nutrients? There was the possibility of bringing a hundred years worth of food pills, which were known to last pretty much indefinitely¡ªalbeit they do reduce in quality with time, but not enough to make them inedible after a century. But such pills were incredibly pricy, costing as much as 1,000 dollars for a single one! Water would be relatively easy for Freddy, but the air would be challenging. Numerous treasures could be used to keep the air fresh, but they relied on ambient ether to fuel themselves. According to Bloodshed, there was no ambient ether there. Thus, he¡¯d either have to bring a tzenekite-imbued air purifier, which was such a ridiculous object that it likely didn¡¯t even exist, or they had to bring a century''s worth of air-affinity ether stones to fuel the air purifier, which would cost a shit ton of money. Then, there was the medicine. That would be a problem even for Freddy. Even with the spark of undeath, he still had to feed it something to keep it topped off with vitality. Nutrient pills would work, but that would likely double, if not triple the amount he had to bring. Then, there was the problem of heat. If there was nothing there, that meant that the heat radiated by a person¡¯s body had nowhere to go. It would just bounce off the nothingness and return right back to the sender, making it impossible for their body to cool down fast enough to survive for long. Even if they released it into the air, it would gradually accumulate until the heat became lethal. Thus, he¡¯d have to also bring some sort of cooler and a ton of fuel to keep it running. And finally, the isolation. Spending a hundred years in a room all by oneself would drive anyone bonkers. But hypothetically, say he managed to offset all of these problems and bring the immense amount of resources needed to sustain himself for that long. What would he even do? The most he could achieve in there would be to bring all his abilities to the completion of stage two. Spirits couldn¡¯t be caged, thus he could only bring caged vestiges and remnants to upgrade his abilities. While this would no doubt still take him a long time to achieve, he could probably finish this in less than two decades if he kept at it without distractions. What would he do with the rest of the time? Develop a shit ton of niche abilities just for the hell of it? Should he maybe bring a century¡¯s worth of reading material? Or maybe he should just bring ten times as many food pills and exercise for the rest of that time! Yeah, right. The sheer cost of everything he¡¯d need to make this happen was unfathomable. Even then, he¡¯d have to bring contingencies just in case something didn¡¯t work; it didn¡¯t take much to die in a situation like that. And even then, how would he manage his sanity? Supreme-quality healing could help prevent his brain from completely breaking, but the human mind wasn¡¯t so simple that such a tactic would be flawless. Sighing, he shook his head. ¡°Come back to my soul, Bloodshed.¡± The spirit obeyed. Freddy haphazardly put the barrier back over the passage. Then he turned around. However, he couldn¡¯t make himself walk forward. His heart rate was elevated and he felt his mouth dry up. A hundred fucking years. That was a long time. Even if he could ¡°just¡± bring his abilities to the peak of stage 2, that would allow him to immediately upgrade them to stage 3 as soon as he was out. A two-star with all his abilities at stage 3 was a terrifying existence. And hell, if he got his abilities that far, he¡¯d probably qualify to reach the third star. Meaning, if he could somehow gather everything he needed¡­ Within just an hour and fifteen minutes¡­ He could become completely invincible within the Northern Belt. He chuckled and shook his head. What was he thinking? Such a thing would cost an absurd amount of money. And what if he went insane? What would be the point of all that power if he¡¯d go nuts trying to earn it? He started walking back. But his steps were heavy. His heart was pounding in his chest. His thoughts wandered as he walked back. He liked Lucas. He liked Sophia. He had even liked Mark. But if there¡¯s any one thing he¡¯d learned with making friends was that nobody came without some amount of trouble. People had problems¡ªto be a friend¡ªnay, to even just be an acquaintance¡ªmeant sharing in those problems to some degree. But he didn¡¯t want to stop making friends. He was tired of being alone and lonely all the time. Such a life wasn¡¯t worth living. The idea of getting all that loneliness¡ªa century of solitude¡ªout of the way in advance, only to after have the power to protect those he cared about, never having to worry about the enemies that came attached to the friends he made¡­ That thought was too tempting to deny. But idle fantasies rarely played ball with reality. And the reality was that this plan was simply too unrealistic. He made his way back up the caverns, slowly pushing through the gray haze until he reached the surface. As for the monsters, he picked up a few of the bigger specimens that had suffered the least damage. Once he returned to the market surrounding the passage, he walked over to the first shop that dealt in herbs and offered his wares. The bastards tried scamming him, clearly downplaying the quality of his goods even after testing it. His response to that was to make a thinly veiled threat that he¡¯d hang the sellers by their balls unless they offered him a fair price, spiced up with a touch of that peak two-star aura nobody dared to play with. Just that much work had netted him quite the profit¡ªover 30,000 dollars. The herbs he picked were pretty high quality, and coupled with his experienced touch with harvesting valuable materials, the value was about as high as it could get for goods like that. As for the monsters, the profit was absolutely abysmal. He got 170 dollars. He seriously thought the seller was trying to scam him, but it really turned out that these things truly weren¡¯t worth much. The thing with places like the Santorio Hub was that all the monsters that were hunted there had been researched thoroughly, and pretty much every part of their body was used for one thing or another. With open passages like this, even rather valuable monsters could end up selling for pennies just based on the fact that nobody knew what to do with them. Without demand, the supply was worthless. Storing them wasn¡¯t a viable option¡ªeven though it was possible to suspend rot and decay, the storage facilities that could support such functions cost a lot of money to sustain. Thus, 170 dollars was all the nasty monsters were worth. He¡¯d have to do more research on the monsters that were high in demand and hunt those for money. But for the time being, foraging seemed to be a decent way to beef up his income. Before he realized it, he caught himself mentally calculating how long it would take him to earn the money to cover the cost of entering that dungeon. Even if he optimized his earnings and minimized his spending, it would undoubtedly take him years of work. As he headed home, an image kept flashing in his mind. He kept thinking back to Jason¡¯s dead body. More specifically¡ªthe ring he left on the man¡¯s finger. He wondered how many resources he would have collected had he taken that ring. And he wondered how many such rings he¡¯d have to collect to fulfill his quota. Chapter 116 - Stubborn Hero After returning from his delve, Freddy was greeted by a scene that made him pause. Hellen and Lucas were sitting on the couch; they looked to be in a strange mood. Freddy could spot a hint of glee in Lucas¡¯s eyes, but Hellen looked¡­ confused. Torn, maybe. Before he could ask, he spotted the newspaper sitting on the coffee table before them. The headline immediately cleared up any questions Freddy had. SCION OF GEM & FALLER FOUND DEAD! Although he was quite far away, his perception was more than good enough to read the contents of the article. The cause of Jason¡¯s death was attributed to a wild spirit attack, with a sensationalized suggestion that ¡°mysterious powers¡± were moving behind the scenes and that the attack might not be as random as it seemed. Unfortunately, Freddy couldn¡¯t tell whether the investigation actually dug up something that raised eyebrows or if the newspapers were just being full of shit. At any rate, the strange mood in the room made sense now. He didn¡¯t know exactly what kind of relationship Hellen had with the bastard, but it didn¡¯t seem to have been as one-sided as he presumed. He shook his head and sighed, pitying the woman. Lucas spotted him entering the living room and tapped his mother on the shoulder. She turned around and raised a limp hand to greet him. ¡°Oh¡­ Hello Mr. Cliff¡­¡± ¡°Hi,¡± Lucas greeted him as well. Freddy hadn¡¯t said anything about killing Jason, and seeing that the situation was complicated, he decided to keep it a secret. After putting on a confused expression, he walked forward and carefully asked, ¡°Did something happen?¡± ¡°It¡¯s nothing,¡± Lucas said. ¡°Just uh¡­¡±¡ªhe glanced at his mother and then silently mouthed¡ª¡±I¡¯ll tell you later.¡± Freddy nodded. ¡°Well¡­ What do you guys want for dinner?¡± ¡°I want pizza!¡± Lucas immediately said. ¡°I¡¯m all right with whatever¡­¡± the woman added. ¡°Sure thing. I¡¯ll go make the order right away.¡± He walked over to the mounted crystal tablet in the corner of the living room. He had read through enough newspapers to know the contact of every single delivery service in Repentawa. After writing down the order and sending it through, he turned around. ¡°I¡¯ll by in my room if you guys need anything.¡± ¡°Sure,¡± Lucas said as he nodded. Freddy walked back to his room and pulled out his notebook. It was becoming increasingly clear that he had a lot of work to do. With that in mind, he had to write down his priorities and keep track of everything he needed to do. But first, for the first time in quite a while, he decided to write down his progress. GATHERING: Second star¡ª199% essence capacity 2-star satellite TALENT: 1% Lifesteal: Dynamic-quality healing SOUL CONSTRUCT: Scythe: Essence Extraction TEMPERING TECHNIQUES: Blood affinity: Pool of Blood: Stage 1¡ª99% Progress Crimson Mercury: Stage 1¡ª49% Progress Water affinity: Adaptive Water Body: Stage 1¡ªComplete Thousand Wet Hells: Stage 1¡ª47% Progress Abyssal Depths: Stage 1¡ª91% Progress ACTIVE ABILITIES: Blood affinity: Gore Knuckles: Stage 1¡ª84% Progress Blood Javelin: Unfinished ether shell Accelerate Blood Projectile: Unfinished ether shell Water affinity: Flowing Strike: Stage 1¡ª92% Progress Hydraulic Flex: Stage 1¡ª79% Progress Create Water: Stage 1¡ª53% Progress Purify: Stage 0¡ª99% Progress (Ready to Upgrade) Pressure Jet: Unfinished ether shell Hydraulic Throw: Unfinished ether shell Perished water affinity: Perished Water: Stage 0¡ª8% Progress Ghosts of the Drowned: Stage 0¡ª8% Progress SPIRIT ABILITIES: Blood Sacrifice Leviathan¡¯s Fury UNIQUE CURSED ITEMS: Blood Ring: -6% essence cost, +5% power for blood-affinity abilities. Can be used to release Bloodshed. Attacks inflict minor bleeding. Pool of Blood was almost ready to upgrade¡ªin fact, it was so close that, when he used it for a few minutes, it was enough to make it ready for an upgrade. While that was a pleasant surprise, frankly, he was seriously disappointed with his overall gains across the board. He had been so busy running that it had been months since he¡¯d made any serious progress. Purify had been ready for an upgrade forever, but it wasn¡¯t really an ability he needed all that often, and even then, it did the job well enough, even at stage 0. Still, he¡¯d upgrade it if he came across a Purity vestige. Leaving an ability unupgraded bothered him. During all the time spent driving around from place to place, he¡¯d put Thousand Wet Hells to work, but all he managed to get out of that was a few percent of progress. That ability was just insanely difficult to master. Other than that, he¡¯d used Hydraulic Flex a lot, and that had seen solid progress, especially during his hike through the mountains. And that was mostly it. Out of everything he needed to do, the javelin throw combo was the most pressing as far as he was concerned. It was a glaring weakness he wanted to patch up before he got himself into trouble again. Depending on who he faced, having the ranged attack in the form of actual, finished abilities could make the difference between life and death. That being said, he needed to fulfill some strict requirements. He could already crystallize the shells, but the results wouldn¡¯t be satisfactory. The runes that the ether shells were made of weren¡¯t just random nonsense. They actually signified critical microconcepts relating to the ability, and from reading into these runes before the cage was crystallized, it was possible to infer the quality of the finished product. Accelerate Blood Projectile needed the ¡°even distribution¡± and ¡°instant¡± microconcept runes. Basically, the acceleration had to be equally distributed throughout the whole object he was throwing, otherwise the trajectory wouldn¡¯t be stable. And the acceleration had to be instantaneous. Blood Javelin needed the ¡°aerodynamic,¡± ¡°sharp,¡± ¡°solid,¡± ¡°balanced,¡± and ¡°quick formation¡± microconcepts. And last, but definitely not least, Hydraulic Throw needed the ¡°precise direction¡± rune. Compared to the five runes of Blood Javelin, the two and one runes of the other two didn¡¯t seem that bad. Indeed, for Accelerate Blood Projectile, there wouldn¡¯t be much trouble in finishing a perfect shell. But ¡°precise direction¡± was a different story altogether. Pretty much all external abilties had direction concepts. The direction concepts were: ¡°undirected,¡± ¡°general direction,¡± ¡°specific direction,¡± and ¡°precise direction.¡± While specific and precise seemed like almost the same thing, they were miles apart in difficulty of obtaining them. ¡°Specific direction¡± was more focused but still not exact. ¡°Precise direction¡± was perfectly exact. As in, the ability would go exactly where the user was aiming. That didn¡¯t mean that it wouldn¡¯t miss, naturally; the user could still suck at aiming, and the targets could get out of the way. But the precision mattered. Without ¡°precise direction,¡± thoughts of truly mastering throwing things was a pipe dream, since no matter how good he got, the ability itself would mess up his aiming. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Sighing, he took out a second notebook and started writing down some notes, mainly just to organize his thoughts about everything else that needed doing. Before long, the food arrived, and the three of them ate their food in silence. The pizza was fantastic. The next morning, Freddy got up and stretched, had his morning coffee and breakfast, and headed out for another day of delving. He decided to solely direct his focus on developing his throwing combo until he was done with it. The first thing he did was find a Storage remnant to upgrade his Pool of Blood into Lake of Blood. Now, his blood reserves would rapidly expand with the use of the newly upgraded tempering technique. He also found a Purity vestige by coincidence during his search, and with that, his Purify became Stage 1. Now, it was time to practice the throwing combo. Stationary targets weren¡¯t the best choice, mainly because it would be better to make money and practice at the same time. While running around and throwing javelins at monsters was fine and all, he had a better idea. He knew of one place where there were plenty of targets to practice on. Mentally, he thought back to the passage map and headed in a direction. He was headed into the Fortress Dungeon. *** An unassuming man passed through the streets of Repentawa. His skin was clear and his bearing was solid, but his face was ordinary and his aura was seemingly nonexistent. With his countenance and common fashion, he fit right in among the masses, walking past the numerous people scurrying through the streets on his way to his final target for the day. As a four-star archhuman, he was pretty much undetectable. Not even another four-star would be able to sense him without a potent perception talent. Well, perhaps if he walked right next to another four-star, they¡¯d be able to tell, but from a distance, it was a bit tricky. In the Northern Belt, any person who reached the peak of the third star was immediately recruited and sent back into the empire. Of course, not everyone would agree to leave so easily, especially not if they were at the very peak of power in the region. The luxuries and status that three-stars enjoyed in this place were numerous, and parting with those to become just another three-star of the empire was hard. Thus, at times, people needed a bit of¡­ ¡°encouragement.¡± As an Imperial Adjudicator, that was his role¡ªto keep an eye on the three-stars living among the people of the Northern belt, and to make sure they were sent back as soon as they stepped on the 299% threshold. For this small city, he had very few targets he had to keep a close eye on. The vast majority of them were nowhere near the peak, and likely, they wouldn¡¯t reach the peak during their lifetime. The further along one went with their progress, the more risks they had to take to keep moving forward. Along the path up, an uncountable number of individuals fell off and got stuck. Some people hit hard walls due to a lack of talent. Some lacked the resources to fuel their growth. Some suffereed a debilitating soul injury and couldn¡¯t gather any more latent aura. And some were just too afraid to keep putting themselves in danger, especially if they already had every luxury they could want at their fingertips. But there was a minority who just seemed to be fated for more. People who only stopped making progress if they died at some point along the way. These were the daredevils and troublemakers, the adventurers and stars, the legends among the living¡ªand among them, there were even some who, despite wanting to stay put, just couldn¡¯t stop themselves from reaching greater heights. With a pleased smile, he was headed to meet with exactly such a person. He walked into an older building and went to the top floor. There, he knocked on the door to a penthouse. Moments later, a man wearing a white shirt walked out. He was tall and muscular, with tattoos and scars scattered across his entire body; he had a thick goatee and a shaven head. The man looked displeased to see the adjudicator, but, with a depressed sigh, he ushered him in. The two of them sat in an opulent living room. The tattooed man showed no hospitality or signs that he was happy to see the adjudicator. He simply scowled at him and asked, ¡°What do you want?¡± ¡°Thor, come on now, this must be our, what, tenth meeting?¡± ¡°Eleventh.¡± ¡°Yes, eleventh, so would it kill you to show me some hospitality?¡± Thor scoffed, pulled a glass out of his storage ring, spat into it, and then pushed it forward. ¡°Here, have a drink.¡± He glanced at it and sighed. ¡°Charming.¡± ¡°I asked you what you¡¯re doing here.¡± ¡°You know precisely what I¡¯m doing here,¡± the adjudicator said with a pleased smile. His eyes squinted, and he peeked deep into Thor¡¯s soul, where he saw two firm stars and one nearing completion, sitting on precisely 298% progress¡ªdrops away from 299%. Thor clicked his tongue. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re already here to take me away?¡± ¡°Unfortunately, that would violate my Adjudicator¡¯s Oath. But it seems I won¡¯t have to wait long, either way.¡± A silence settled between them. Thor leaned forward and stared deeply into the man¡¯s eyes. ¡°Are you sure we can¡¯t make a deal?¡± ¡°Be careful with what you¡¯re suggesting.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not going to fucking bribe you, dipshit. You know what my offer is.¡± ¡°I have forwarded it to the courts,¡± he lied. ¡°The suggestion to have you appointed as a watchdog of the Northern Belt was refused.¡± Thor¡¯s fists tightened. ¡°You¡¯re lying.¡± ¡°I am being sincere. You should already know the empire has no interest in improving the quality of life in the Northern Belt. I have explained the same thing to you many times already, yet you can¡¯t seem to part with the idea.¡± ¡°Is there really nothing I can do?¡± ¡°Sure you can¡ªreach the fifth star and become an Overlord. I¡¯m sure the empress herself will be willing to hear you out then.¡± Thor half-snarled and half-laughed at that. ¡°Real funny.¡± ¡°I am serious.¡± He threw one leg over another. ¡±With your talent, you have pretty solid odds of getting there in another century or so.¡± Thor chuckled at that suggestion. ¡°So you¡¯re telling me to abandon my people for a hundred years, all for a ¡®chance¡¯ to change something?¡± ¡°Look.¡± The adjudicator sighed. ¡°My job here is to make your transition to the empire as smooth as you¡¯re willing to make it. You can also choose to be stubborn and die a dog¡¯s death. That won¡¯t save your people from anything, will it?¡± Thor¡¯s expression darkened. The adjudicator couldn''t suppress a sneer. ¡°You know, there is always one thing you could do.¡± He raised his hand and extracted a vial. Then he slowly placed it on the table before Thor. ¡°That is a special type of soul venom. If you drink it, your star will be reverted by around five to fifteen percent, and you will be left with a soul wound that will prevent you from gathering.¡± His smile widened. ¡°What do you say? You will forever be stuck at the third star, but you will never be forced to leave this shithole, either. Sounds like a wonderful idea, doesn¡¯t it?¡± Thor stared at the venom. His jaw clenched, and his fingers pressed together so tightly his knuckles went white. The adjudicator laughed darkly. ¡°Come on now, what¡¯s the problem? Are you afraid?¡± He sneered and chuckled again. ¡°There are so many ideologues such as yourself. Self-proclaimed heroes and loyal servants of the less fortunate. But you ask them to make one sacrifice¡±¡ªhe lifted his index finger¡ª¡±just one¡­ and suddenly, they aren¡¯t feeling so heroic. ¡°So come now¡ªprove yourself. Do you have the guts to stand by your ideals¡­ or are you just another coward who¡ª¡± His words were cut off as Thor swiftly scooped up the vial and downed the whole thing. The adjudicator¡¯s eyes flashed wide open. Thor immediately started sweating. He dropped the vial, and it fell to the carpet, making a light thud. He grinned back at the adjudicator and forced himself to sit upright. ¡°I am not some half-baked motherfucker who doesn¡¯t stand by his words. If this is the only choice I have, I¡¯ll take it.¡± The adjudicator¡¯s face turned ugly, and a brooding sense of dissatisfaction spread across his features. His lips curled into a frown, and he slowly got up, fixing the collar on his shirt. ¡°Well then. It appears you are a true idiot. In truth, that venom was quite costly, but it would be uncouth of me to ask for recompense.¡± He forced a smile. ¡°Consider it a parting gift. I doubt I¡¯ll ever see you again. ¡°And, by the way, the venom you just consumed is a truly insidious substance. The cure for it is far out of your means. Kiss the wealth and glory of the fourth star goodbye. Forever.¡± With those words, the adjudicator walked away, slamming the door on his way out. *** Thor sat there, watching the bastard leave. As soon as the doors slammed, he dropped his cool posturing and panicked. ¡°Oh, fuck fuck fuck that fucking hurts, motherfucking ape tits, holy shmeat!¡± He hurriedly meditated, grabbing every wisp he could feel to try and wash out the venom. Not only did it hurt like a bitch, it was wasting away his star¡ªhe wanted to keep every shred of power he could. After an agonizing fifteen minutes, he finally washed away the last of it. Thankfully, the venom only left a solid scar and not a permanent leak. He¡¯d have been so fucked if he kept losing more ether. ¡°God, why did I do that!?¡± he shouted, burying his head in his hands and groaning. He grabbed a nearby pillow and screamed into it like a teenage girl who had just heard that her crush had smiled at her biggest enemy. He threw the pillow away, his clothes looking disheveled. Then, he laughed. ¡°I really am one stupid motherfucker¡­¡± His star settled on 291%. He felt considerably weaker. He couldn¡¯t stop himself from crying. Frankly, he felt so goddamn bitter. At just the third star, he struggled to make a real difference. He¡¯d come a long way from the homeless kid he had been dozens of years ago, but¡­ this place needed a truly heavy hand to change for the better. This was an immeasurable loss. For a long moment, he even thought he should have taken the chance to reach the fifth star, but¡­ that was a pipe dream. Twenty minutes later, his doorbell rang again, and the person he had been expecting to come was actually the one who opened the door this time. ¡°Whoa there, you okay?¡± A tall, burly man with long golden hair asked in a surprisingly high-pitched, mellow voice. He had a goatee similar to Thor¡¯s own, and his eyes were a bright shade of blue, like the shallows of the ocean on a bright sunny day. He was wearing a denim jacket with torn sleeves and a tight, black shirt beneath that. ¡°No¡­ I¡¯m not okay, Travis,¡± he said to his friend. Then, he explained what just happened. His life-long friend gave him a tight hug and comforted him. ¡°There, there¡­ We aren¡¯t out of options!¡± He pulled back. ¡°You¡¯ve always tried to do everything yourself¡­ Why must you be like this? Let us help more. We¡¯ll get more people on board!¡± ¡°No¡­¡± Thor sobbed. ¡°That will never be enough. It¡¯s almost impossible to find trustworthy people in this shithole.¡± He laughed between the tears, wiping his face with his sleeve. ¡°And even when we do, they fucking die.¡± His friend looked like he wanted to say something, but he simply nodded with a sad expression. ¡°Come on, now. Let¡¯s sit you down.¡± It was still rather early in the day, so the two of them ate lunch and chatted. Thor felt and looked like a man who had just lost everything. His gaze was distant and cold, full of despair and heartbreak. His mood swung between hopelessness and anger. At one point, he left and went to bed, collapsing head-first into his pillow and going deathly still. ¡°Are you gonna be like this all day?¡± Travis asked him. ¡°Leave me alone,¡± Thor¡¯s muffled voice called from under the pillow. Travis sighed and walked forward, grabbing him by his forearm and pulling him. ¡°Come on, get up.¡± ¡°No! Leave me alone! Let me be miserable!¡± ¡°Come on, man, you¡¯re acting like a little kid again. Let¡¯s go for a delve to take your mind off things.¡± Thor groaned. ¡°My soul hurts and I¡¯m tired and my head hurts and I don¡¯t wanna go.¡± ¡°Your soul will recover faster if you give it some light exercise. Now come on, don¡¯t be lazy.¡± Thor sighed. ¡°Fine. Bring me my axe, and I¡¯ll come.¡± ¡°Get up. You¡¯re a grown man. Get it yourself.¡± He groaned as he crawled out of bed and walked over to his closet. Once he swung it open, he revealed a whole collection of powerful weapons. If he was going to get the anger out of his system, he would do it with the most powerful weapon he had. His hand reached for a large, beautiful axe that emanated a mighty aura. It was a cursed weapon that amplified the power of his lightning abilities. The two men donned their gear and walked to the passage. ¡°There goes Thor¡­!¡± a man whispered from the side. People mumbled to each other and watched in admiration as the two men walked through the crowd. Yet some among the people present glared at them with abject hatred. Whether they were the lackeys of the local crime lords or innocent victims of propaganda, neither of the men cared. Nobody would dare get in their way. ¡°Where are we gonna go?¡± Thor asked. ¡°Wanna bust down the entrance to one of the private passages again?¡± he suggested with a wide grin. ¡°No, man, you¡¯re injured,¡± the man said, shaking his head. ¡°Don¡¯t stir up trouble just yet.¡± ¡°So what do you suggest?¡± ¡°Hmm¡­¡± the man hummed. ¡°How about we go to the dungeon?¡± Thor thought for a moment, then he smiled. ¡°Yeah¡­ Sure¡­ We haven¡¯t gone in a while. ¡°Maybe we¡¯ll find something interesting.¡± Chapter 117 - Fortress Dungeon There were many different types and subtypes of dungeons. The most common were the ordinary dungeons¡ªthese were simply passage realms with some form of structure that appeared to be created by an intelligent lifeform. These were more or less the same as any other realms. If the structure within was destroyed, it would remain destroyed forever. Then there were the more exotic types. The entrance to the Fortress Dungeon was pretty close to the entrance into the local interspace. It only took Freddy fifteen minutes to get there. The realm in which the dungeon entrance was located was practically wholly ruined. It used to be a forest realm, but after being burnt down several times and after every inch of it was unearthed to see whether there was something hidden beneath the surface, no life or valuables remained. He walked over the barren dirt and quickly reached what looked like a picnic site. There were tables with chairs scattered around, seated by numerous individuals who seemed to be waiting for the dungeon to open. Surprisingly, there was a pretty diverse cast of delvers present. Many were at the mere beginnings of their first star, with shoddy equipment and poor physiques, but there were also some people who were as far along as halfway up their second star. Nobody there was more powerful than Freddy. To Freddy¡¯s bewilderment, very few people seemed to be nervous. It was completely unlike a site one would expect to see at a place like this. They would be entering a trial of life and death, yet even the weakest among the people present seemed to be relaxed¡ªno, excited, even. But he supposed it sort of made sense. The Fortress Dungeon¡¯s difficulty ramped up with time. Anyone below a certain level could fight during the early stages and then hide in the fortress later. The dungeon was very well-researched. As long as enough people entered, the odds of anyone dying were pretty low. As he got closer, many of the people waiting noticed him¡ªand he even recognized some of them. One table was seated by a handful of fighters from the Lapis clan. They were one of the major local powers, a family clan of archs who primarily practiced the water affinity to acquire the ice affinity. Freddy had no concrete evidence that they were involved with any nasty business in the city, but he had a strong suspicion they were the ones in charge of the local drug trade. The newspapers he identified as belonging to them had a large number of articles trying to pin busted drug operations on fledgling groups. Among them, Freddy only recognized the young woman wearing azure robes and sitting with her eyes closed. That was Galaria Lapis, a swordswoman with gathering reaching 150% essence capacity. He had only seen her mentioned twice, and both times, it was when she was a contestant at the Repentawa Interfaction Youth Tournament that happened every year. Such tournaments were commonplace pretty much everywhere in the world and were easily in Freddy¡¯s ¡°top ten most insane things powerful people do¡± list. There was nothing quite like putting teenagers into death games to resolve disputes between local factions. Well, rationally speaking, it wasn¡¯t totally absurd. It was a way for factions to display the power of their younger generation and future leaders and was often used as a proxy for interfactional conflict. Galaria had an okay performance but wasn¡¯t even close to winning either of the two times. As of three years ago, she became twenty and could no longer participate. Her group noticed him and scowled at his approach, looking somewhat surprised. They immediately started whispering, likely asking each other whether anyone knew where he¡¯d come from. He simply snorted at that. Other than the Lapis clan, there were some people he suspected were tied to other factions, but it was hard to tell¡ªonly the two local clans had a distinct style of clothing. The other three factions were corporate entities and practiced a variety of powers, with maybe one or two affinities being more popular than others. These people also noticed his approach. As he finally reached an empty table and took a seat, he took a good look at the entrance to the dungeon. The Fortress Dungeon was of a dungeon type called a ¡°resetting dungeon.¡± While instance dungeons could exist in several parallel versions of one another, resetting dungeons only existed in a single iteration. The only difference was that the time within the dungeon was reset after a specific period. Not many things could be taken out of such dungeons¡ªmost objects from within evaporated into nothingness when taken out. But there were always a few minor exceptions. These were the rewards. Other than being a resetting dungeon, the Fortress Dungeon belonged to two other subtypes. It was a ¡°closed¡± and ¡°themed¡± dungeon. It being ¡°closed¡± meant that, after a while, the passage would close and nobody could go in or out until a specific requirement was met. And it was ¡°themed¡± because it had a structured challenge within. Looking at the entrance to this dungeon gave him a strange feeling. It was closed, but not by some magical barrier or a sheet of nothingness. No, it was closed by a portcullis, and he could see two guards standing inside with spears in hand, with a gate of sorts and what appeared to be the inside of the fortress wall behind them. While he had heard of this already, seeing it himself left him with a profound feeling of wrongness. These guards were not real people. They were constructs created by the dungeon. The idea of that was petrifying. What kind of power could bring something like this into existence? It had to be created by something intelligent. And that something was aware of who humans were, it was familiar with their history, and it could conjure fake copies of humans that were indistinguishable from real people¡­ This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. It was uncomfortable and bizarre. The sight of it left him questioning everything he knew about reality. With stuff like this to be found in the interspace, it was hardly surprising that so many people believed in the existence of gods and other higher powers. According to the schedule, it was another twenty minutes before the entrance opened and the new batch of people could enter. He could hear some newbies wondering whether there were enough people present to go in. There were around forty individuals there, and after a quick glance, Freddy concluded that it would be enough. Around five minutes before the dungeon''s opening, Freddy noticed everyone go into a frenzy. People were shouting at one another and pointing fingers. The weaker delvers looked hyped, while the more powerful ones scowled and looked on edge. Freddy slowly turned around, curious to see what was happening. His eyes widened at the sight of two men. Both were fully armored and wearing helmets that covered their faces. One of them was tall and muscular, carrying a huge sword over his shoulder, while the slightly shorter one was carrying a cursed axe on his back. The tall and burly man was at the peak of the second star¡ªthe same as Freddy. But the second man was the one that attracted his attention. Freddy couldn¡¯t feel exactly how powerful the man was due to the difference between them, but he could clearly feel the suppressive power of the third star. Three-stars were few and far between in Repentawa, and Freddy knew most of them through the newspapers. While some parts of their equipment looked new, he recognized the famous cursed axe from a mile away. Those two men were Thor and Travis¡ªthe two top dogs of Valhalla. They walked forward without a single care in the world as if they were casually strolling through a park, chatting away and chuckling, pushing and prodding each other like a normal couple of buddies. Freddy¡¯s gaze sharpened at the sight of the two men. He had been hoping to get into contact with them at some point, but he was surprised he¡¯d get an opportunity so quickly. But before he made himself known to them, he wanted to see what they were about. Were they truly the villains the newspapers made them out to be? Or were they only being slandered for standing in opposition to the established forces? He¡¯d carefully observe them and¡ª Suddenly, he felt a three-star aura lock right onto him. It was like a piercing laser beam that was directed straight at his back. He subconsciously straightened as memories of facing the full wrath of the scorpion-tailed woman resurfaced. For some reason, Thor was staring straight at him, and the man was doing his best to make his presence known. Freddy gulped. Did the man mistake him for someone else? The auras of the two men gradually drew closer until they were standing right above him, staring down at him like gods of death. Freddy¡¯s fists itched as he prepared to use Gore Knuckles and mentally connected to the Leviathan¡¯s Fury ether shell. If these two were hostile, he¡¯d have to¡ª ¡°Hey there, buddy,¡± Thor greeted. ¡°Mind if we take a seat right here?¡± Without turning around, Freddy nodded. ¡°Sure. I don¡¯t mind.¡± The two men sat opposite him and slowly took their helmets off. Thor¡¯s ragged, tattooed face showed an amused expression as he stared deep into the visor on Freddy¡¯s helmet. The man slowly placed his headgear on the table and then leaned on his elbows. ¡°You¡¯re a new guy, huh? When did you move here?¡± Before Freddy could even show signs of surprise, Thor chuckled. ¡°I know everyone of importance in this shithole. And you¡¯re someone I don¡¯t know.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve only been here for a few weeks,¡± said Freddy. He wanted to say something else, but his throat felt like it was sealed shut. What could he even say? He already knew who they were, so he didn¡¯t want to be disingenuous and ask them to introduce themselves. Other than that, he wasn¡¯t really the king of small talk. And the things he really wanted to know, he definitely couldn¡¯t ask right from the get-go. Thankfully, the two men¡¯s interest in him seemed to be deeper than wanting the empty seats at his table. Thor¡¯s eyes flashed as his expression turned serious. ¡°Are you here as part of a deal with someone?¡± Freddy scowled at that. ¡°No¡­ I came here on my own.¡± ¡°Hey, that¡¯s great!¡± Travis cheered in a high-pitched voice. ¡°Would you be willing to join us?¡± He froze. His mind raced, and his heart sped up. Well that was quick. He¡¯d been hoping to try and join them if possible, but this was a bit too fast. He still didn¡¯t know if any of the rumors surrounding these guys were true. ¡°Yeah, that sounds like a great idea,¡± Thor said, looking Freddy dead in the eye. ¡°What do you say? If you want to know what exactly you¡¯re joining, well, we fight crime and fuck with the local powers.¡± The man grinned widely. ¡°Or, as they like to say¡ªwe do terrorism, buddy. How about it, feel like becoming a terrorist?¡± Travis chuckled at that. Freddy heard a creaking sound, and he glanced at the dungeon entrance. The portcullis keeping the passage closed was slowly rising, and moments later, the people started leaving the dungeon. ¡°Whelp looks like it¡¯s time to go,¡± Thor said, getting up. ¡°Lovely chatting with you, fella. What¡¯s your name?¡± ¡°Uh¡­ Freddy. I¡¯m Freddy Cliff.¡± ¡°Nice to meet you, Freddy. I¡¯m Thor, and this guy is Travis. If you¡¯re willing, we can chat after the dungeon run is over; how¡¯s that sound?¡± ¡°I uh¡­ I¡¯ll think about it.¡± ¡°Sure thing, man. See you later then!¡± The two men waved and walked over to the dungeon. Freddy, feeling quite bewildered, got up to follow them. He didn¡¯t know what to think about that conversation. For now, he took his mind off it and walked over to the dungeon entrance. As the people entered, the two guards crossed their spears to block the way in. Freddy was startled at that, but it seemed like that was only to ask for the name of whoever entered. Most people seemed to give out pseudonyms. Once it was Freddy¡¯s turn, he followed their lead. ¡°What¡¯s yer name, soldier!?¡± the left guard shouted. ¡°Slave,¡± he said. ¡°Fight hard, Slave!¡± the right guard yelled, and they removed the spears so he could pass. He found himself on the inside of the small fortress. He turned around, finding that the entrance gate was just a minor structure smack dab in the middle of the bailey. On top of the gate, there seemed to be some sort of room with a balcony, but there seemed to be no obvious way to get up there. On the inside, it was pure darkness. This was likely somehow related to the challenge. The fortress itself was made of five ten-meter-tall walls shaping a pentagon, with towers at double that height on all five corners. The bailey was primarily empty. Five closed gates led to the outside, and a few staircases took up to the battlements. He climbed up and got a good look around the fortress. The surroundings were a nearly perfectly flat plain of grass with a thickly overgrown forest surrounding the entire dungeon. There were ten ballistae on the battlements and five catapults. On the inside of the towers, there were racks of javelins, spears, swords, shields, maces, axes, arrows, ballista bolts, and an assortment of different types of catapult ammo, ranging from simple stones to containers of flammable oil. The delvers rushed around, with the weaker folk taking up the ballistae and catapults while the stronger delvers lounged on the battlements and chatted, waiting for the waves to begin. Freddy finally understood why the people seemed so excited to enter this place. This seemed like a lot of fun. Chapter 118 - Siege In the Fortress Dungeon, there was a thirty-minute waiting period before the waves of enemies arrived. This period was most likely so that the challengers could prepare themselves. And indeed, Freddy spotted the weaker folk rushing into the towers and pulling out ammo. He followed them. People respectfully moved around him as they grabbed the racks of ballista bolts and picked up the rope nets full of catapult ammo. There was even a two-star who was busy collecting the daggers and swords. Once any of these resources were removed from where they stood, it took no more than a few seconds for them to just magically reappear out of thin air. Like this, the people present were quickly accumulating a massive pile of ammo and resources. Given that the dungeon challenge lasts for almost six hours, they would need a lot of resources. Freddy took a look outside and glanced at the other towers. Two of the five towers had people on top. The one he was at was empty. He cupped his helmet where his chin would be and eyed the javelin rack. While he was going to practice his throwing combo, he didn¡¯t really have much blood to work with. His Lake of Blood was freshly upgraded, so it only just slightly more than doubled his total blood reserves. He was a big dude, and given that he passed Puddle of Blood, his body could hold quite a bit, probably a bit over 9 liters, closer to ten. With Lake of Blood, that meant his total blood reserves were around 20 liters, but he obviously couldn¡¯t use all of it. He needed at least 5 liters in his body to avoid losing strength in combat. It would take him around a liter of blood to make a single javelin, so he only had 15 projectiles at his disposal. That was very few. Also, he hadn¡¯t yet started on a marrow tempering technique, and he also did not have a blood absorption ability, so his ability to replenish his reserve of blood was barely better than any other two-star. He walked over to the javelin rack and started taking them. There were quite a few different types present. Some were longer, some were shorter, some were heavier, some were lighter. Among them, the shape also varied, with different types of spearheads and shafts in different colors. Some even had fletching on them, just like an arrow. As he collected them, they respawned, and he quickly found himself holding a huge bundle. He walked up the stairs, simply threw the javelins on a pile, and went down to get more. The surrounding people noticed this, and two of them started whispering. One of them was a short young man wearing a synthetic cap with a tuft of hair peeking out above his forehead. His buddy was a bit taller, bald, and wearing a metal helmet, but it was a bit silly and looked like it had seen quite a bit of action. It was either used or dug up from a pile of garbage. The short one seemed to gather bravery for a second as he took a deep breath and approached Freddy. ¡°Hey there!¡± ¡°Hi,¡± Freddy greeted back as he grabbed another javelin. ¡°Do you need help with something?¡± ¡°Uh, yeah¡ªI mean¡±¡ªhe coughed¡ª¡±if you¡¯d like, we can help you bring those javelins up to the second floor.¡± ¡°Sure thing,¡± Freddy said. ¡°But can you please just¡­ uhm¡­¡± The man pointed outside. ¡°If it¡¯s possible, could you please bring one of the ballistas and a catapult up to the top of the tower?¡± Freddy nearly burst out laughing. ¡°I mean I can try,¡± he said, still chuckling. ¡°But those catapults look damn heavy. The staircase is a bit tight, too. I¡¯m not sure if I can pull that off.¡± ¡°Oh¡­¡± The young man deflated and paled slightly. ¡°Sorry, I¡¯m¡ª¡± ¡°Hold on,¡± Freddy said, raising a hand. ¡°I didn¡¯t say I¡¯m not gonna try.¡± He walked outside and approached the nearest ballista. It wasn¡¯t too heavy, but it was awkwardly shaped, making it challenging to maintain balance as he carried it. He had to go very slowly and cautiously, but after a few minutes, he managed to get it up to the top of the tower. The catapult was considerably bigger than the ballista, and on top of that, it was much heavier. With its weight and shape, he wondered whether it was even possible to get it through the tower entrance and up the stairs. Shrugging, he gave it a shot anyway. He could just barely drag it. Eventually, he pulled it through the tower entrance and then, slowly dragged it up the stairs. For a moment, it looked like it couldn¡¯t pass through the end of the staircase, but with the help of Hydraulic Flex, Freddy managed to turn it just enough to pull it through. Once he finally put it in place, he had to pause for a minute to catch his breath. ¡°Holy shit, man,¡± the bald guy said, laughing and nodding in approval. ¡°You¡¯re a beast!¡± ¡°Thanks,¡± Freddy said with a chuckle. ¡°No, thank you! It¡¯s much safer up here!¡± The two young men were part of a bigger group of five and had already collected quite an impressive pile of ammo. Most of them looked pretty tired before the battle even began, but given how they would contribute, that shouldn¡¯t be a big issue. There was a small problem with the ballista¡ªthe parapet on the tower was too high. That meant they could only aim the ballista way into the sky. While the newbies discussed possible solutions, like improvising a platform to put the ballista on, Freddy simply shrugged and walked to the parapet. With a single-star Flowing Strike, he kicked the wall, crushing it into bits that flew all across the grasslands and opening a hole through which they could fire the ballista. The people behind him jumped in fright, and the stunt even attracted the attention of the surrounding delvers. ¡°There you go,¡± he said to the group of frightened one-stars. ¡°That solves the problem.¡± They simply nodded and remained quiet. There were only a few minutes left until the start of the fighting, so while the newbies collected more ammo, Freddy scouted the fortress to see how the other groups had distributed. As soon as he peeked across the parapet, he spotted the Lapis Clan group. They noticed that he was looking at them and eyed him strangely, with a slight dash of hostility in their gazes. Freddy scoffed at that and looked over to the other side of the fortress. There, the Valhalla duo was chatting away on the wall. They also immediately noticed him looking at them, and Thor waved at him exaggeratedly. The Lapis people noticed this. ¡°Those motherfuckers,¡± Freddy muttered, sighing. By approaching him like that in front of the crowd, Thor and Travis had complicated his life. Given that he hadn¡¯t been hiding his existence, people would sooner or later notice the peak two-star and realize that he didn¡¯t belong to any of the local factions. As soon as that happened, he¡¯d start getting offers, and people would no doubt attempt to get him on their side. But after today, that was likely not going to happen. Thor had planted a poison pill. As the rumor of Freddy¡¯s existence spread, it would be inextricably tied to the possibility that he was already a member of Valhalla. Or at least an ally. Usually, Freddy would be pissed at getting manipulated like that, but he understood the local politics well enough to know why Thor was practically forced to do that. The only reason why Valhalla had survived so long was because of Thor¡¯s incredible personal power. The local three-stars were either not confident in defeating him or scared of losing their lives while trying to take him out. It was important to remember the status of a three-star in Repentawa. These people were practically kings. They could live in luxury and enjoy an untouchable position. Getting such people to risk their lives was hard. But that didn¡¯t mean that Thor was invincible. Just as with any other three-star powerhouse, if he fought against a group of peak two-stars with specialized talents, it wasn¡¯t guaranteed that he¡¯d survive. Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. Interfering with the recruitment of such two-stars was the only right choice for the man unless he wanted to find himself suffocated. Freddy stared across the bailey, watching the different groups strategizing and chatting. A gentle wind blew through the air, making the grasslands shimmer like a verdant sea of waves reflecting the light of the sky. The sounds of the surrounding forest canopy just barely reached his ears, giving a pleasant backdrop that eased some of the tension in the air. Once the time until the first wave reached only a few minutes, the groups quieted and got ready for action. Freddy didn¡¯t know how much time was left, but he could feel that something was about to happen in his bones. A strange tension bubbled within his gut. Suddenly, on the balcony just above the gate standing in the middle of the bailey, an elderly man with a thick, white beard, wearing what looked like monk robes, walked out. He looked serene as he raised his arms and shouted. ¡°Attention, defenders!¡± Some people turned to face him while the more experienced crews didn¡¯t even react. The man took a deep breath as he screamed from the top of his lungs, ¡°We are under attack!¡± A rumbling sounded somewhere far away. Freddy saw the figures slowly seep between the trees of the forest. What looked like mountain bandits walked out, wearing mostly fur and old leather clothing; some were shirtless, with little more than loincloths to protect their privates. There weren¡¯t too many of them, and they were scattered. Suddenly, they all raised their weapons and started shouting. ¡°Get the bastards!¡± ¡°Plunder their gold and capture their women!¡± ¡°Slit their throats and stab their heads upon yer pikes!¡± ¡°Men, charge!¡± They started running. Most of the powerful two-stars didn¡¯t even move. They simply stood and waited. They likely wouldn¡¯t even start fighting until a serious challenge arrived. Otherwise, they¡¯d just be wasting their energy for no reason. Many of the weaker fighters had picked up bows from the racks and fired arrows. Most of them had absolutely no skill. Many of their arrows flew in loopy trajectories before tumbling uselessly to the ground, but to be fair, a few of them did fly straight, even though they ultimately missed or didn¡¯t have enough force behind them to do much damage. The scattered group of weak delvers used almost no visible abilities, and their talents were in the ordinary category, with only a few people having visible physical indications of their talent. The ballistae, though, those were doing some work. The two young men he had talked to before aimed their loaded ballista and fired. The bolt shot with a loud whistle and¡­ missed by several meters. But, a bit further away, another group managed to land a bolt right through one of the invader¡¯s forehead, bursting his entire head apart. ¡°Damn!¡± the bald guy cussed. ¡°Get your shit together, man!¡± ¡°Yeah, yeah, shut up, you can¡¯t aim either! Now help me load another bolt!¡± Among the options of catapult ammo, there were boulders, jars of flammable liquid, and just a pile of spiky metal shards. As for the people next to Freddy, they opted for the flammable jars. The jars were plugged closed by a wet rag, looking like a big Molotov cocktail, and as a beginner fire-affinity arch lit the cloth on fire, a woman pulled a latch and sent the projectile flying. It completely missed the invading warriors, and this time, by like twenty meters; it wasn¡¯t even remotely close. Freddy couldn¡¯t help but raise an eyebrow. ¡°Man, do you guys even know how to aim this stuff?¡± They groaned and hung their heads. ¡°This is our first time here,¡± the bald guy said. ¡°We¡¯ll get the hang of it eventually.¡± Other than the two men on the ballista and the man and woman operating the catapult, there was another young girl with them. She, however, was busy bringing more ammo. She looked sweaty as hell and was breathing heavily as he hauled another large boulder up the stairs. Her strength was quite impressive though, most like coming from a talent. Freddy, having no reason to wait, picked up his first javelin. It was long, with a thin spearhead and no fletching¡ªits weight was a bit of the lighter side. He walked over to the parapet and took aim. He focused purely on the Hydraulic Throw. He was already quite familiar with which muscles he needed to use for throwing, and the water in his body moved through them. The water suddenly compressed and his muscles tightened with it; he threw the javelin. While he wasn¡¯t particularly skilled at this, he was still a peak two-star. His natural perception and ability to manipulate his essence was way above where it used to be. But he still fucking missed. The damn javelin landed just a bit to the side of one of the invaders. He awkwardly glanced at the people beside him and coughed. "Man, this wind is a little annoying..." Sighing, he picked up another javelin and got ready to throw again. While the bandits didn¡¯t have any bows, that didn¡¯t mean they came without ranged options. He saw a few of them clutch strips of dirty cloth. One of them suddenly started swinging it through the air, and a moment later, he flung a chicken egg-sized rock at the defenders on the lower wall. It flew with impressive accuracy and clocked one of the one-stars in his head. The rock bounced off the helmet but left a visible dent. ¡°God damn!¡± Freddy shouted in admiration. ¡°Now that¡¯s a fuckin¡¯ throw; we¡¯re a bunch of chumps compared to that guy!¡± A few of the people beside him chuckled nervously at that. The two young men in the front aimed another bolt and fired. This time, they struck a man¡¯s leg. ¡°Gods damn it!¡± the man wailed miserably as he fell to the ground. ¡°I¡¯ll flay you scum!¡± he yelled. Seeing their member injured, a few of the surrounding warriors flung rocks their way, and Freddy had to admit, the sounds of them bouncing off the parapet was quite intimidating. It had to be mentioned that these invaders weren¡¯t even archhumans yet. These were simply mortal men. If this reflected the true fighting power of such people from mankind''s history¡­ well¡­ humanity had fallen off pretty hard. Baldy and Shorty were visibly sweating, and Shorty looked like he was going to throw up. Freddy could hear their hearts beating in their chest, and Baldy¡¯s hand slipped as he loaded another bolt. A moment later, a rather large rock flew right above Shorty¡¯s head, and the young man tumbled and tripped, falling on his back as he shouted miserably. He was hyperventilating. ¡°Chill out, man,¡± Freddy said as he gave him a hand. The man could barely hold his grip. Frankly, this guy just didn¡¯t seem to be cut out for this kind of life. But he still forced himself and got back to aiming the ballista. Freddy simply sighed and walked over to pick up another javelin. The few bandits that managed to approach the walls flung ropes with counterweights and hooks on them over the wall and climbed up. They were frighteningly fast, and some of the more powerful delvers had to get involved to push them back and prevent them from climbing up. As the battle raged, the numbers of the invaders kept dwindling, and soon enough, there were only a handful of them left. One of them looked around at his impaled and beaten comrades as he loaded another rock into this sling. He shouted angrily, but before he could throw the stone, a javelin pierced through his shoulder, and he dropped to the ground. ¡°Nice, I got one!¡± Freddy cheered, pumping his fist while the man wailed miserably. In the next moment, a flaming jug of oil fell right next to the man and splattered him with some of the burning liquid. The man was set on fire. He rolled to the side as he tried to extinguish it, just barely getting out of the way of a ballista bolt that would have cut his suffering short. In the next moment, another javelin by Freddy finished the job. It was quite a disturbing sight. Freddy, who was already quite used to killing actual people, still had to remind himself that these invaders were merely constructs conjured by the dungeon. But frankly, he wasn¡¯t sure whether that reminder made him more or less disturbed. In the next few moments, the last of the first wave was snuffed out, and the second wave started flooding out of the forest. It was the mortal bandits again, but there were around four to five times as many of them. ¡°Send them to hell!¡± ¡°Tear down their walls!¡± ¡°Set their homes aflame!¡± ¡°Men, give ¡®em pain!¡± ¡°Charge!¡± Freddy grabbed another javelin. The forest was quite far, and at that distance, he was basically just throwing randomly and praying something hit. He got a few lucky strikes every now and then, but that wasn¡¯t really the point. He needed to rely on his aim. During his attempts he got quite familiar with the different types of javelins. So far, he liked the ones on the heavier side¡ªthey were less affected by wind. The fletching made somewhat of a difference, but it was hard to tell. As far as he discerned, the length was more important. He had to limit the power of his throws quite drastically to maximize his accuracy. Still, his throws were quite powerful; they could almost compare to the impact of a ballista bolt. The second wave was a lot more bloody. The fire jugs were quite effective at halting charges and stalling the men, while most of the kills went to the ballista boys and the melee delvers who were pushing the invaders off the walls. Freddy was broken out of his concentration by the sound of the group behind him screaming. He turned around and spotted a man quickly vaulting the parapet and pulling out a saber. The sneaky motherfucker actually somehow managed to climb up the tower! He shot them a sinister grin as he readied his weapon. However, before he could attack anyone, Freddy simply walked up to him, casually grabbed him by his arm, and then proceeded to fling him off the edge, sending the man flying another ten meters into the air before he started his descent. The sound of his fall was quite loud. He even landed on another invader. Freddy ignored the stares of the people around him as he picked up another javelin and got back to work. Relatively quickly, the second wave came to an end. Now, the more powerful delvers started readying their weapons. As soon as the last invader died, Freddy heard the sound of war drums beating from within the forest. In the same number as the barbarians of the last wave, soldiers in full armor marched. These weren¡¯t mortals, either¡ªthey were one-stars, albeit on the weaker side. Behind them was a knight on an armored horse, equipped with a massive spear on his back. He wasn¡¯t too powerful, only around the peak of the first star. Freddy decided to challenge himself. He completely ignored the javelins and reached for one of the ballista bolts. It was made of pure metal and weighed quite a bit more than the wooden javelins. Freddy got into position and focused. The entire world seemed to slow down as he focused his entire being on the origin of that peak one-star aura. His eyes were wide open as he grabbed the massive bolt with all his might and flung it, sending it flying straight toward the mounted general. Chapter 119 - Blood Javelin Logic would dictate that lighter things should be easier to throw. But as the ballista bolt of pure metal left Freddy''s grip, it flew faster and farther than any of the javelins he¡¯d thrown prior, and it went almost exactly where he¡¯d thrown it, flying straight at the big boss of the wave. Before the invading soldiers could even react, the terrifying projectile zipped through the air and struck¡ª The commander¡¯s horse. It struck its forehead, and half the shaft sank into the creature¡¯s body. It limply fell to the side, and from what Freddy could tell, the fall broke the commander¡¯s leg. At first, he was shocked at how far the bolt went despite its weight. But as he grabbed a second projectile, he quickly realized that it wasn¡¯t despite its weight¡ªit was because of it. Not only did it allow him to offload more momentum into it, but due to its greater density relative to wood, it didn¡¯t slow down as much due to the air friction, and finally¡ªand perhaps most importantly¡ªhe felt like he had greater control over it. The small mistakes he made had a lesser impact on the trajectory. With a wide grin, he pulled back, threw the second projectile¡­ and missed miserably. Well, he missed the commander, at least, but he still hit the soldiers. The javelin went straight through a soldier¡¯s head, then through the torso of the man behind him, and finally into the leg of a third fighter. ¡°Wow,¡± Freddy admired the insane striking power. As he turned around, he finally noticed the party of low-rank delvers staring at him with eyes wide open. He simply shrugged at them and called the girl who was busy bringing more projectiles, ¡°Hey, you.¡± ¡°W-who? Me?¡± the girl stammered nervously. ¡°Yeah. Can you please bring some more of these bolts?¡± he asked nicely. ¡°Uh¡­ Yes! Right away!¡± He quickly grabbed a third projectile and threw it again. At this point, the soldiers appeared panicked, but as the injured commander was pulled up to his one good leg, he shouted and gave the command to charge. The soldiers obeyed, shouting as they marched forward and raised their shields. After a few more throws, Freddy hummed, walked to a corner, and sat down. He had come there intending to hone his Hydraulic Throw, but he had unexpectedly learned quite a bit about javelins. Or, at least, his preference for them. He closed his eyes and focused, and slowly, the shape of the ballista bolt formed from his blood. If he squinted really hard, it looked perfect! But actually looking at it revealed a number of serious flaws. The surface of the shaft was bumpy and uneven, the shaft wasn¡¯t entirely straight, and the spearhead wasn¡¯t sharp at all. The shell in his soul, as it was, didn¡¯t satisfy even one of the requirements he had to fulfill. But that was to be expected. He still hadn¡¯t even settled on a final shape yet. Something else bothered him, however. Although the blood javelin was roughly the same shape and size as the ballista bolt, it was much lighter. Freddy''s blood was quite thick and heavy. But this was because of Abyssal Depths, which compressed the water in his body. But when he hardened his blood with essence, that water evaporated, which resulted in a relatively light-weight material. This was actually considered a major strength of the blood affinity. Hardened blood could be made incredibly solid and tough while being lighter than most metals in existence. Freddy wasn¡¯t a massive fan of this when it came to the javelins, but he understood the rationale behind it. Once Blood Javelin was upgraded a few times, and he had Accelerate Blood Projectile in the form of a solid ability, he could make the lighter projectiles fly way faster than their heavier equivalents. He tested the newly formed blood javelin and felt somewhat disappointed with the results. The lack of weight was noticeable. Sighing, he was about to try making another one, but he quickly found a significant problem¡ªa javelin of that size and thickness cost a lot of blood. There was no point in being a cheapskate with his blood. Not only would he have far more of it later, but there was also absolutely no point in making his ability useless just to be able to use it more frequently. But this shape cost over 4 liters. That was too much. Thus, he decided to make the projectile less thick for his next attempt. It kept the cost under 3 liters, but holding it was a little uncomfortable due to the slim shaft. He ultimately settled for a compromise, making it a bit shorter while keeping the thickness comfortable. As for the tip, rather than making a spearhead, he settled on a simple spiked tip¡ªthe whole thing was just one solid piece of metal, so a traditional spearhead didn¡¯t make sense. Ultimately, he only made a total of 4 javelins before his blood ran too low. If he wanted to practice more, he would need to secure better ways to maintain his blood reserves. There were blood pills he could eat to produce blood faster, but he also desperately needed the Crimson Spring tempering technique for his bone marrow and the Blood Absorption ability. The siege continued raging on, with the armored troops slowly losing their numbers. To his surprise, the more powerful fighters still hadn¡¯t budged from their lofty perch upon the battlements, even if some were throwing projectiles already. Clearing out this wave wasn¡¯t difficult, but it did take longer. The armored men were considerably more resistant to projectiles, and they came equipped with better siege equipment. They brought hooked ladders and battering rams, but they didn¡¯t get a chance to use them. As soon as they came close, the weaker delvers lit the jars of flammable liquid and simply threw them down. The armored men cooked like chicken in tin foil¡ªtheir screams again made Freddy remind himself that they weren¡¯t real people. Throughout the whole wave, Freddy kept aiming for the general, but his attempts were foiled by a wall of shields. Eventually, he got pissed off and threw a catapult boulder. It broke straight through the shield wall and crushed the commander¡¯s chest. When the wave was near to completion, Freddy found himself shocked to discover the vast amount of reflux essence flowing through his body. Hydraulic Throw wasn¡¯t an expensive ability¡ªmost of the cost was covered by the satellite¡ªbut the uses had accumulated, leaving him flushed with nearly 300% reflux water essence in his body. While the last few soldiers were being cleaned up, he sat and meditated to flush the essence out. He could only bring it down to 200% before the next wave started. And as soon as the next wave began, he spotted most of the powerful delvers jumping off the wall and down into the fields. This included Thor and Travis. The reason why they jumped was instantly apparent. A nearly uncountable number of armored soldiers walked out of the surrounding forest. Infantry, cavalry, archers, siege equipment operators¡ªand they were all one-stars nearing the peak, with as many as five mounted generals wearing glorious golden armor and winged helms surrounding the fortress, their power well into the second star. ¡°Well that escalated quickly¡­¡± Freddy muttered aloud as he cocked an eyebrow. His eyes were immediately drawn to the large pieces of siege equipment, especially the trebuchets and catapults. Those could do some serious damage. His thinking seemed to be mirrored by the delvers, who were also focused on running straight at the engineers operating these pieces of equipment. He watched the Lapis Clan run forward at incredible speed. They seemed to be using Water Step, a tricky water-affinity ability that compressed water beneath the foot to propel the user forward. They could create barriers of ice instantly, blocking numerous projectiles as they wove between others like butterflies dodging raindrops. Their swords cut through the soldiers'' equipment like a hot knife through butter. That was the power of Water Edge, an ability that circulated water across the edge of a blade at immense speed, greatly enhancing cutting power. He saw people from other organizations achieve similarly impressive feats. He watched shadows form into tentacles that threw soldiers aside, flashes of light that blinded whole battalions, explosions of fire, shards of earth, buzzing metal blades, vines growing and entangling groups of soldiers with ease. And lightning. He saw Thor raise his axe and swing it forward¡ªin the next moment, a shockwave impacted a trebuchet and exploded with lightning, burning the piece of equipment and several surrounding soldiers to a crisp. Freddy had thought this wave would be a bit troublesome, but it seemed like this was little more than a warmup for the powerhouses. He watched one of the trebuchets launch a massive boulder, and he briefly panicked as it looked like it would strike a tower, but two stars flashed, and an arrow zipped at immense speed and struck the flying projectile, shattering it into rubble. Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. The source of that projectile had been an archer woman who had remained behind on one of the towers. Seeing her rapidly fire out a number of arrows that swiftly and efficiently culled soldiers and intercepted incoming projectiles, he was starting to feel really inferior in regards to his ranged option. What could he even do if he faced someone like that in combat? He only stood a chance if he could get close enough to use Leviathan¡¯s Fury, and even that was questionable. Sighing, he grabbed a javelin and got to throwing. But this time, his resolve was reinvigorated. He tested all sorts of javelins and paid close attention to how their shapes and features impacted their performance. The more tests he did, the more sure he became that the ones with fletching were better than those without it. His throws gradually became more accurate, and the ¡°specific direction¡± rune was already clearly formed. Getting it to become the ¡°precise direction¡± rune would take a long while, but it no longer seemed impossible. Although the delvers¡¯ offensive started strong, finishing this wave seemed like it would take a while. The delvers were obviously managing their resources and sparingly using their abilities. The only person who seemed to be really going wild was Thor. The man was singlehandedly clearing an entire side, and just as Freddy looked, he saw him cleave a commander¡ªand his horse¡ªin two with one swift swing. Thor was fast. Like really fast. That seemed to be the man¡¯s main strength. His cumbersome weapon moved like it was made from hollow plywood rather than pure metal. As Freddy kept throwing, he kept overloading his body with reflux essence, requiring him to take frequent breaks. But he was doing some good work, too. Any soldiers that came close were doomed the moment Freddy set his sights on them. Even if he missed once or twice, he¡¯d get them eventually. Eventually, the wave was cleared out. Freddy couldn¡¯t see any more invaders. But the next wave didn¡¯t start. Before he could even wonder why that was the case, he spotted a shadow-affinity archhuman in full synthetic gear carrying a soldier wrapped up in a cocoon of shadows. The other delvers nodded at him as he walked back up on the wall and put the soldier down. Nobody touched the tied-up soldier. All the delvers sat down and started meditating instead. It seemed that they trapped the last soldier to stop the new wave from arriving before they could get back to top shape. But as half an hour and then a whole hour passed, he started to wonder what was happening. Freddy sighed and walked back down to the battlements. Many of the delvers noticed him, but nobody paid much attention to him. In fact, they almost seemed to be dismissive of him. It seemed that his display of mediocre ranged skill hadn¡¯t impressed many of the onlookers. Ignoring them in turn, he walked up to the shadow-affinity user. ¡°Hey,¡± he called. ¡°Do you mind if I ask what¡¯s happening?¡± The man looked up slowly and cocked his head. ¡°Hello,¡± he said softly. ¡°Is this your first time here?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± The man chuckled softly. ¡°Figures. No surprise you¡¯re lost then.¡± He proceeded to slowly take his helmet off. His face was delicate and slim, with vividly colored lips and eyes like that of a fox. His shoulder-length black hair washed over his head, and his eyes turned up to look directly at Freddy. Freddy didn¡¯t react outwardly, but inwardly, he was shocked. He recognized this man. This was Shawn Gem¡ªthe brother of Jason Gem. He kept his cool, however, and made sure to give away nothing through his body language. ¡°Well, allow me to explain it to you,¡± the man said, putting his helmet on his lap. ¡°The next wave is much more challenging than the one we just fended off. With the number of people we have, we shouldn¡¯t start it before we get to around twenty minutes away from the end of the challenge.¡± Freddy raised an eyebrow. ¡°Why not?¡± The man smirked. ¡°We can¡¯t beat the next wave with just the people here. This way, we can still retreat and wait for the challenge to be over if we get overrun.¡± Freddy scowled at that. ¡°That¡¯s a big jump in difficulty.¡± The man chuckled. ¡°It very much so is. I¡¯ve only heard legends about the wave after it, but it has never been defeated.¡± ¡°Huh¡­ Okay. Keep that soldier safe then.¡± The man chuckled. ¡°This isn¡¯t the only one we¡¯re keeping alive¡±¡ªhe pointed at the other end of the fortress, where two more delvers Freddy hadn¡¯t noticed were keeping soldiers hostage¡ª ¡°but sure thing,¡± the man said playfully. ¡°Oh, and a word of advice¡­¡± Freddy squinted at the man. ¡°Yes?¡± ¡°I suggest you contribute more to the next wave. Your reward won¡¯t be much with the merit you¡¯ve gathered so far.¡± After standing for a moment, Freddy nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll keep that in mind.¡± And with that, he returned to the tower. Time passed. For the most part, the delvers were working to get themselves to the optimal condition, but a small scattering of weaker folk were rummaging through the battlefield. The soldiers looked like humans, but they worked like monsters. They all had an inherent talent¡ªa general boost to their physical capabilities. And just like monsters, they could appear as deviants. The weaker delvers were rummaging through the corpses in hopes of finding a prime vestige. The odds of finding one were awfully low. Even if one had appeared, it was likely that someone stronger had already picked it up. Freddy ignored them and worked to slowly flush out all the reflux essence in his body. To this end, his soul construct was quite valuable. The dungeon was rich in ether, but it had no sentient ether constructs inside due to the constant resets. This made it a perfect place to gather in the Netherecho with his projection. To his surprise, he actually spotted a small vestige. Huh. Must have appeared recently. That was quite rare, but it wasn¡¯t unusual given the density. It looked like a small, muscular human girl wearing overalls and it had a shovel as a weapon. He wondered what its concept was. Freddy rushed at it, only for it to scream out in horror. ¡°Wait! Please! Don¡¯t kill me!¡± He paused at that and cocked an eyebrow. ¡°Hmm?¡± he hummed while lowering his weapon. ¡°I¡¯m one of the delvers!¡± she said, panicked. Freddy froze. ¡°Oh, shit! Oh fuck, I¡¯m so sorry!¡± he shouted, deeply ashamed of his lapse in judgment. This wasn¡¯t a vestige. It was a projection. ¡°You scared me¡­¡± she said, taking another step back. ¡°My bad,¡± he said, apologizing again. ¡°I mistook you for a vestige.¡± ¡°I¡­ At least nothing happened.¡± ¡°Yeah. Sorry about that.¡± Silence settled between them. ¡°So yeah,¡± Freddy said, scratching the back of his hooded head. ¡°I¡¯m gonna stay over here, close to my body. You uh¡­ Have fun there. No hard feelings, I hope?¡± She nodded, and they stepped away from one another. Freddy moved back, and he spotted her lose sight of him much sooner than he lost sight of her. Her range of vision was shorter than his own, given the difference in power. He couldn¡¯t hold back his curiosity. This was the first time he encountered a stranger in the Netherecho like this. And given that she couldn¡¯t see him, he failed to resist the urge to spy on her a bit. He saw her look around anxiously. Then, she plunged her shovel into the ground. To Freddy¡¯s absolute bewilderment, she successfully made the shovel sink into the ground in the Netherecho. He was amazed. From what he knew, the Netherecho was just a reflection of physical reality, and there should have been no way to affect the reflection without touching reality. But to his surprise, he watched the woman scoop up the aura effortlessly and put it on a pile. Then, to his absolute shock, he watched the pile of scooped-up aura turn into something between a wisp and a vestige. It looked like a pile of shifting rocks. It lacked the ability to speak or move, likely as it hadn¡¯t actually formed into any kind of concept. Then, without further ado, the girl proceeded to bonk the mass of rocks on its head. It unraveled, and a decent amount of ether flooded into the woman¡¯s body. Freddy¡¯s mouth was agape at the sight. This woman¡­ she could affect the aura of objects with her soul construct? The number of possible uses this could have was uncountable. He waited patiently until she returned to her body and took note of where she was sitting. Then, as he returned to his own body, he saw that it was the girl who had kept diligently bringing projectiles from within the tower. From what he could tell, she was eighteen or nineteen years old. She was wearing a tight synthetic cap, and all her hair was trapped within. She was noticeably muscular, even through her equipment. Her face was flush with fatigue. Her deep brown eyes moved around, and she finally looked at him. He nodded at her and waved. ¡°Sorry about that,¡± he said. ¡°It¡¯s fine.¡± She grinned awkwardly and scratched her cheek. Freddy wanted this woman. Not like that; he wanted her as an ally. She didn¡¯t seem to realize it, but her soul construct was possibly immensely valuable. What would happen if she used her soul construct on a cursed item? Could she pile aura endlessly until she created a vestige? If so, could she willingly create rare vestiges, like holy or unholy affinity vestiges, or even possibly something like a tzenekite vestige? But how would he get her on his side? Not only was he awkward as fuck, but he was also an intimidating guy. His gaze flitted across her companions, and he squinted thoughtfully. An idea sparked in his mind. ¡°Hey,¡± he called. The whole group turned to face him. ¡°You guys have been quite helpful today,¡± he said. ¡°If you don¡¯t mind, I would like to treat you all to dinner after this is over.¡± ¡°Hell yeah, brother!¡± The bald guy instantly agreed. ¡°I¡¯m down.¡± ¡°Yeah, I¡¯d be okay with that, too,¡± his cowardly friend added. The other three seemed a bit reluctant, but after incessant goading by their friends, they finally agreed. ¡°Good! Hope you guys have a big appetite!¡± The waiting continued, and he chatted along with them a bit. Baldy and Shorty¡ªor rather, James and Michael, talked the most out of anyone there. They asked Freddy rapid-fire questions about his power, where he was from, and how he got so strong, and blah blah blah¡ªmeanwhile, the girl with the soul construct¡ªJanice¡ªsat timidly in a corner while their other two friends who had manned the catapult¡ªIan and Amy¡ªmostly just talked to one another. They appeared to be married. After a while longer of rest, they decided to get as much ammo prepared as possible. There was a lot of waiting left, so way before the next wave started, they already had a massive pile of ammo prepared and almost no space left to store it. Thus, they simply waited to recover their strength and got mentally ready for what was to come. From what they said, it appeared that they wouldn¡¯t stay on the tower for long. As soon as any danger appeared, they would retreat into the tower and hide until it was over. Eventually, Freddy noticed the other delvers stir. They nodded, and the final members of the last wave were finally killed. The next wave immediately began. Freddy¡¯s breath was taken away by what he saw. Lines upon lines of soldiers, all at the peak of the first star, with numerous elite warriors at the second star, appeared from the forest. They wore golden armor and held a variety of weapons, all polished and glistening in the false dungeon sun. But what shocked him the most weren¡¯t the lines of mighty soldiers¡ªit was the leader of the wave. A giant of a man was mounted on a huge armored horse. Both were clad in gold and silver, with the horseman holding a halberd of red metal. The commander was at the third star. But something was wrong. A miasma coiled around the man¡¯s weapon like a snake, and the more experienced delvers immediately panicked. ¡°The general is a deviant!¡± Chapter 120 - Unholy Blessing Freddy stared at the leader of the wave. A three-star deviant!? The leader of this wave was more powerful than Freddy. He was early¡ªvery early into the third star, but that was an incredible jump in power compared to the wave that came before it. No wonder this wave was effectively the final wave for all intents and purposes. The leaders of the waves had so far simply stayed behind the lines while pushing their soldiers forward, and there was no reason to believe that this one would break the established rule. But then it immediately broke the established rule. To the surprise of everyone, even the powerful delvers, the general suddenly charged, its horse leaping over the front lines as he rushed forward at immense speed. Nobody could stop him. With a mass of thick, oozing miasma coiled around his halberd, the general roared and slammed into the fortress gates. The wood was impossibly tough. The entire wall shook, yet the gate seemed to only suffer minor damage from the blow. But that did not last long. As the green miasma seeped into the wood, it rapidly began to rot. The horse the general was riding propped itself up on its back feet and kicked, breaking the gate and leaving the fortress wide open. Everyone present paled. Given their reactions, this definitely wasn¡¯t something that usually happened. ¡°Men!¡± the general shouted as he raised his halberd. ¡°Run down the enemy! Charge!¡± Oh, this is fucking bad, Freddy thought as he saw the mass of soldiers charging forward. The general rushed straight into the bailey, where he was intercepted by Travis, Thor, and a minor figure from the Lapis Clan. ¡°Everyone!¡± Thor shouted. ¡°We¡¯ll take the boss down! Keep the tides back so they don¡¯t flood the fortress!¡± Freddy gritted his teeth. This was really bad. His gaze drifted to the group that was with him on the tower. They all looked deathly pale. Even though there were only twenty minutes left until the end, that was more than enough for the fortress to get flooded and for everyone below the second star to die. Although the army was coming from all around the fortress, most of the forces had to focus on the general and the broken gate. The others would have to fight tooth and nail to stop the other gates from breaking down. ¡°Shit!¡± Freddy yelled as he leaped off the tower and down to the battlements. He rushed toward the section where the gate was broken and was quickly joined by a number of others. He leaped down onto the fields and instantly conjured his Gore Knuckles. Besides being short on blood, he was in top condition. Shawn Gem appeared beside him soon after, followed by the main force of the Lapis clan. That made seven people total. The other handful of two-stars stayed behind to protect the rest of the fortress. Freddy¡¯s gut twisted as he realized that there was no way the one-stars could survive this. Twenty minutes was just too long for them to hold out on all sides. Hell, if the fortress was broken into too early, there was a good chance that everyone there would die! No matter how powerful someone like Thor might be, his essence reserves were still limited. But what could he do? He gritted his teeth as the answer came to him all on its own. He had to summon Bloodshed. But he really, really didn¡¯t want to do that. Still, he might not have a choice. Keeping his secrets was worthless when his life was in danger. He suddenly turned to the Lapis folk and shouted, ¡°You people! Go protect the rest of the fortress! Leave this side to me and the shadow guy!¡± Their eyes widened briefly before they scowled at the command. But as Freddy released his full-powered aura, they paled and reluctantly nodded as they turned around and rushed to help the others. ¡°I¡¯m sorry to say it, but I can¡¯t handle this, hahaha¡­¡± Shawn suddenly said as he awkwardly retreated a step. ¡°I¡¯ll support you from behind. Do you want an unholy blessing?¡± Freddy paused once he heard the offer. Unholy blessings were a group of unholy-affinity abilities that acted similarly to their holy equivalent. There was a catch, though¡ªthey were more powerful than ordinary blessings, but this power came at a cost¡ªin return, he had to offer a part of his body that he wouldn¡¯t be able to use during the boost. The greater the sacrifice, the greater the benefit. ¡°Yes,¡± he agreed. It turned out that he might not need Bloodshed after all. ¡°What do you want a boost to?¡± ¡°Strength!¡± The man nodded and put a hand on Freddy¡¯s shoulder. Freddy felt a sinister energy move into him, like a helpful devil asking a price for his services. ¡°There,¡± Shawn said as he took several steps back. ¡°Make your offer.¡± Freddy took a deep breath. ¡°Skin, heart, lungs, kidneys, liver, ears, left arm, left eye!¡± ¡°Idiot!¡± Shawn shouted. ¡°Are you trying to kill yourself!? That¡¯s going to¡ª¡± Before the man could finish his sentence, Freddy shouted unbelievably loudly. This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it He went entirely silent a moment later as his lungs shut down and his voice cut off. An unfathomable power flooded him as he felt a profound sickness move through his body. His left arm hung limply. His hearing cut off entirely. His heart stopped beating. His skin went numb, dulling his sense of pain. The influx of power was far too much for his body to handle. He felt like his insides were melting and like his bones were slowly turning to dust. Suddenly, he charged forward. The line of soldiers raised their shields and readied their spears while the cavalry charged at him. A knight lifted his lance and prepared to impale Freddy right through his head. Freddy sidestepped the lance and kicked the horse up. The earth beneath his feet shattered and the horse launched into the air, flying nearly thirty meters up, with its rider flying even higher than that. They fell into the crowd of soldiers, killing a few. Before the other knights could even realize what happened, Freddy grabbed the leg of another horse, flinging the knight off and throwing the whole horse straight into the crowd of charging horsemen. They were knocked over like bowling pins, with the horses dying particularly gruesome deaths. Freddy continued, picking up another horse that he proceeded to throw right into the mass of infantry soldiers, instantly killing dozens. He felt a powerful urge to shout, but his lungs were sealed, not even letting him breathe. His heart should be pounding, but it remained quiet, standing still as the unholy blessing still persisted. With just a single eye and his soul sense, he felt like his perception was incredibly limited. The power raging through him destroyed his body wherever it passed, with the influx of lifesteal being just enough to let him keep fighting through it. But in that moment, as he stood there, seeing the lines of soldiers pulling back in panic, he felt omnipotent. He charged forward. A soldier tried raising a shield, but Freddy raised a fist. Two stars sparked in his soul, and a raging tide pushed through his body. With near-impeccable timing, he landed the double-star Flowing Strike. Both the metal shield and the Gore Knuckles disintegrated into shards of metal, and the soldier went flying back like a cannonball, ramming into another line of soldiers and knocking them over. He continued charging, tearing apart everyone who stood before him as he rushed straight at the leaders and siege equipment. They shouted something Freddy couldn¡¯t hear as he grabbed another horse and threw it right at a trebuchet. Then he tore a spear out of a soldier''s arm and threw it at one of the commanders. The spear pierced his shield and armor as if they were made of paper mache. He kept receiving blows here and there, mostly ones that came from his blind spots. But with his numb skin, physical toughness, and the constant rush of healing, he completely ignored any attacks, simply continuing to rush at whatever target shined the brightest in his soul sense. He blew several engineers into masses of gored meat and kidnapped their trebuchet ammo reserves. Then, he proceeded to climb up on the siege machine and throw the boulders at any commanders he could spot. The speed and efficiency at which he tore apart the army¡¯s structure was horrifying. At this point, any soldiers he approached simply turned around and ran the other way. He chased a literal stampede of soldiers in a circle as they caused disarray and pandemonium wherever they went. Because they kept running into more and more fighters, the stampede grew thicker, with many people getting run over by the charging men. Many of them bravely stood their ground only to get turned into mincemeat a moment later. The unholy blessing did not last for long. It ran out after only maybe three minutes. Then, all at once, he felt his senses return to him, took a deep breath, and raised his left arm to take his helmet off after he puked a bunch of blood into it. He felt exhausted. Every muscle in his body hurt, and he was shaking profusely. He had thought his talent was keeping up with the damage he was taking, but he had been dead fucking wrong. He had to take out the spark of undeath and punch it a few times just to regain control over his numb legs. Then, without hesitation, he ran back towards the fortress. It was at this point that the soldiers noticed that he was retreating. A few of the mounted knights turned their horses around and charged him down. He wasn¡¯t nearly fast enough to outrun a horse. A lance slammed into his shoulder, knocking him over and sending him rolling across the ground. A moment later, a second knight stabbed down, piercing right through Freddy¡¯s stomach. ¡°I¡¯m not that fucking weak!¡± he declared as he grabbed the leg of the horse and snapped it. The beast whinnied loudly as it backed away. Another knight charged right up, but Freddy rolled out of the way and dodged the incoming attack. He pushed himself back up to his feet and continued running. A knight approached behind him, raising a saber to cut his head off, but through the combination of Freddy¡¯s mail turtleneck and his potent defense, he managed to keep his head attached to his body. Suddenly, shadows rose out of the ground and tied the horses¡¯ legs up. They felt over, sending the soldiers tumbling. Freddy used the opportunity to send a double-star Flowing Strike kick into one of their stomachs, sending the man flying into the distance like a football. The other one tried getting back to his feet, but he was pulled away by a black tentacle and thrown aside. ¡°Holy hell, man!¡± Shawn shouted as he approached Freddy. ¡°You are crazy!¡± ¡°Just¡ª¡± Freddy suddenly coughed out another mass of blood. Then, he put his helmet back on and slowly walked forward. ¡°Let¡¯s go back inside.¡± The side of the fortress where the gate had been wrecked was pretty desolate, with most of the soldiers having pulled back and run to the sides. On the inside, the battle between the boss and the others finally wrapped up, with Thor cutting the man¡¯s head off and ending the fight. Freddy didn¡¯t know why it took them so long to finish the battle. It was most likely due to whatever talent the deviant leader had. Nobody had the time to look at him. They split between protecting the broken gate and fending off the attack on the other sides. Once he was sure nobody was looking at him, Freddy pulled out the spark of undeath and started hitting. He had no meat he could feed it, so the amount of lifesteal he could extract from the spark was highly limited. Still, it was enough to allow him to at least move without feeling like nails were scraping across his bones. While his stunt would undoubtedly attract attention, it was much better than revealing Bloodshed. In fact, most people would likely conclude that he had suffered permanent, irreparable injuries on that day and that his overall power would be limited going forward. He was okay with letting people believe that. Let them think he was weak when he was strong. And let them believe he was strong when he was weak. In a sense, he had accomplished both of those at the same time. The minutes passed, and slowly, the challenge reached its end. Just as he was about to get up to go leave, that old man who had previously announced that they were under attack left the balcony above the dungeon entrance again. ¡°Well done, righteous defenders! You have bravely protected the kingdom and fulfilled your duty to the crown! Now, it is time to give you your rewards! You shall be rewarded based on your contribution!¡± Suddenly, a massive scroll unwrapped in the sky above them, with the pseudonyms of all the participating delvers lined up, ranging from most to least contribution. His eyes widened as he saw the results, but before he could express his shock, the air before his face started glowing, and a strange object appeared. Chapter 121 - Bottom Line Thor twirled his axe. Lightning sparks flew from the blade, striking the armored men and paralyzing dozens as they jumped from one soldier to another. He was exhausted. Sweat coated his entire body, and his essence reserves were depleting rapidly. Just as he was about to start feeling desperate, the soldiers before him suddenly evaporated into faint white smoke and disappeared. He fell to his knees, taking deep breaths. His Deep Breathing activated, and he felt the numbness in his limbs slowly recede as he raised his axe and shouted. ¡°We fucking did it, boys!¡± Everyone around him cheered. That damn general with his regeneration talent was the most unlucky thing he¡¯d ever seen happen in this stupid dungeon. By all means, that should have been the end for most of the people here. But¡ª Suddenly, the sky above lit up as a large scroll unfurled and revealed the results. The number one spot, as expected, belonged to Sexy Bastard¡ªhim. With his contribution, he easily claimed the top spot. A light sparked before him, and a long spear conjured in the air before him. He grabbed it and tested it a bit. It was pretty damn well made. With a tzenekite imbuement, this baby could compare to some of the best weapons he had in his arsenal. But the spear was of little interest to him. His eyes moved back up to the scroll¡ªto the spot right below him. ¡°Slave, huh?¡± That was the pseudonym of the person who got second place. And while Thor didn¡¯t know who that was, he had a pretty good guess. He jumped back up to the battlements and looked down to the bailey, where he spotted the wounded man¡ªFreddy Cliff. The man was breathing heavily. His armor was pretty damaged, and he was coated in a thick layer of blood. Without a word, Thor dropped down to the bailey and walked to the wounded man. ¡°Oh, hey¡­¡± Freddy greeted him, barely eking out the words. ¡°I see you got a spear.¡± He shakily raised a weapon of his own. It was a katar made of slightly blue metal. The craftsmanship was excellent¡ªfrankly, it was almost of the same quality as the weapon Thor was holding. The difference in their contribution wasn¡¯t that significant. ¡°How did you do it?¡± Thor asked. He had noticed the insane burst of power coming from the man and the subsequent carnage he spread through the army. ¡°Unholy Blessing.¡± Thor sucked in a sharp breath. The man must have sacrificed a number of body parts to extract that much power. And that was it¡ªthe man was as good as dead. The internal damage had to be immense. The man¡¯s internal organs were most likely soup at this point. In fact, it was a bloody miracle that he was still breathing. But there was no saving him. A pained expression shifted through Thor¡¯s gaze. ¡°Hey¡­¡± Freddy called shakily as he spat out a mouthful of blood. ¡°Can you help me back up to my feet?¡± Thor nodded solemnly and helped the man up. That was the least he could do. ¡°Can you please take me to another realm?¡± Freddy asked. ¡°Anywhere with monsters is fine.¡± Thor bit his lip. It seemed that the man wanted to go out fighting. Not only was he willing to sacrifice himself, but he was a true warrior at heart. It nearly brought Thor to tears. Travis walked over with a questioning glance, and Thor shook his head. Travis sighed and followed them. ¡°Hey¡­¡± a young man called from the side. He was a weak one-star, and behind him were four others. ¡°Are you okay?¡± Freddy nodded. ¡°Yeah, don¡¯t worry about me. I promised to take you guys to dinner. Wait for me just a bit. I¡¯ll be right back.¡± ¡°Ah¡­¡± the young man said as he nodded. ¡°Uhm¡­ Sure¡­ We¡¯ll wait for you right outside the dungeon¡­¡± And like that, Thor took the man outside and carried him to a nearby realm with monsters. Its surface was mostly barren, but the caverns had a number of nasty things crawling inside. ¡°That¡¯s enough, thank you,¡± Freddy said as he nodded at Thor and separated from him. He slowly walked forward as Travis and Thor looked on with sadness, watching the man slowly limp toward the cave. ¡°You are a brave man,¡± Thor said. ¡°You will most certainly have a spot in Valhalla waiting for you.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± Freddy said. ¡°Thanks. We¡¯ll discuss terms later.¡± ¡°No, I mean¡­¡± Thor choked back his words. ¡°Uh¡­ Never mind.¡± Freddy quirked a confused eyebrow and walked inside. Then, they heard the sounds of fighting. Nasty roars and growls echoed, with the creatures whining as they were torn apart by the man. To the shock of the two men, the injured Freddy was truly of formidable spirit. Despite his numerous wounds, he actually continued fighting for quite a while. Like¡­ way too long. But eventually, the sounds finally stopped. Yet, to their surprise, the two-star aura came crawling back out. Freddy¡¯s silhouette appeared in the cave, and he walked out, stretching his arm above his head. ¡°Sorry, it took me a while.¡± With Thor¡¯s perception, even when looking through the layers of armor, he could tell that the man wasn¡¯t perfectly healed. But the mere fact that he was capable of standing on his two feet was nothing short of a bloody miracle. Thor and Travis stared with their eyes and mouths wide open. ¡°You¡­¡± Thor called. ¡°What the fuck¡­¡± ¡°Ah, yeah,¡± Freddy said with an awkward chuckle as he scratched the back of his head. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you guys about it one day. But for now, I¡¯ll be honest. I¡¯m not sure if I can trust you two. I promised those other delvers a dinner, so we¡¯ll have to talk about it another day. How does tomorrow morning sound?¡± Stolen story; please report. ¡°Uh¡­ Sure,¡± Thor agreed. ¡°I guess that¡¯s fine.¡± He proceeded to give them a time and location and simply walked away, leaving the two men in a stunned silence. ¡°What in the motherloving fuck just happened, Travis? Am I seeing shit? Pinch me.¡± Travis obliged. ¡°Ow! Not that hard!¡± Travis chuckled. ¡°How do you think he did it?¡± ¡°Man, I don¡¯t fucking know!¡± He gesticulated aggressively. ¡°Maybe a spirit ability¡­?¡± Thor suggested. ¡°But what did he sacrifice then?¡± ¡°I¡­¡± Thor looked at the man¡¯s back as he walked into the distance, looking for anything different about him. Anything missing. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn¡¯t find anything strange. If the man had paid a price for that sudden healing, it was something that couldn¡¯t be inferred at a glance. Thus, Thor simply shrugged. ¡°I have absolutely no idea¡­¡± *** Freddy¡¯s mood was a little sour as he walked away from the two bewildered men. Thor and Travis now knew an uncomfortable truth about him. Without seeing exactly what he did down there, they could only venture guesses about the details, but still. They knew more than he wanted them to. Details about his talent being leaked was unfortunately unavoidable. If it didn¡¯t happen on that day, it would have happened in the near future. Freddy had no delusions that he¡¯d be able to keep his talent perfectly hidden forever. But, as long as he could hide the exact details on how it worked, he¡¯d be happy. The main thing he wanted to keep a secret was the supreme-quality healing. He had stopped short of perfect recovery to hopefully make them think that supernatural-quality healing was his limit. While that was still pretty damn crazy, it was within reason. Once he met them tomorrow, he¡¯d be perfectly healed, of course, but they wouldn¡¯t be able to tell. There were many skin products that could match supreme-quality healing in efficacy, and it wasn¡¯t like they could just take a peek at his guts and examine his organ health at a distance. ¡°Sorry for the wait,¡± Freddy said as he greeted the group of delvers. They looked pretty shocked to see him. Michael, the short, cowardly guy, was the first to ask, ¡°You¡¯re already healed?¡± ¡°Eh, it wasn¡¯t as bad as it looked,¡± he lied. ¡°I took some pills, and it brought me right back up to speed.¡± ¡°Man, you¡¯re so fucking badass,¡± James, the bald guy, said. ¡°I saw you throw the horse at the army! How the hell did you even do that!?¡± Freddy chuckled. ¡°You can do a lot of crazy stuff when you go up in power. Anyway, enough about the dungeon. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve all had enough of that for the day. How about we go and have something to eat?¡± ¡°Sure thing,¡± Michael said. ¡°I¡¯m starving.¡± Rather than bringing them to a restaurant, Freddy opted to bring them to his apartment and order some food. Lucas and his mother were surprised to see the group walk in. As soon as Freddy spotted Lucas, he invited him over. ¡°Lucas, my friend, I need a favor.¡± ¡°Hmm?¡± The young man raised an eyebrow. ¡°What is it?¡± ¡°See that girl?¡± He indirectly gestured at Janice. ¡°She¡¯s pretty cute, no?¡± ¡°Uh¡­ I guess?¡± ¡°Do you like her?¡± Freddy asked. ¡°Whoa, slow down! Where are you going with this?¡± ¡°Just yes or no.¡± ¡°Uh¡­ Uhm¡­¡±¡ªhe cautiously glanced at her¡ª¡±yeah¡­ I guess?¡± ¡°Good. Go hit on her.¡± ¡°What!?¡± he shouted, then lowered his voice as the others glanced at him. He nervously shuffled. ¡°What are you talking about!?¡± ¡°Look, you don¡¯t have to seduce her or anything; just go make friends. She¡¯ll become a really important individual in the future. Now¡¯s your chance!¡± ¡°Can you at least explain!?¡± ¡°No.¡± Freddy turned to face the others. ¡°Everyone! Make yourself at home! Just tell me what you want to eat so I can make the order.¡± He lightly tapped Lucas on the shoulder and leaned down to whisper. ¡°I believe in you.¡± Lucas choked at those words and nervously glanced at the girl. He swallowed and slowly started walking towards her. ¡°I can¡¯t believe I¡¯m actually doing this¡­¡± The night proceeded quite smoothly. The huge couch in Freddy¡¯s living room had enough space for fifteen people to sit with plenty of room between them. Their food arrived soon enough, and after Freddy insisted that it was fine, everyone simply ate sitting at the couch. Lucas had somehow managed to find himself pleasantly chatting with Janice. Whether they were actually hitting it off or not, Freddy couldn¡¯t tell. Was this a bit manipulative? It was extremely manipulative. But the woman was in danger. Her soul construct was useful, and if someone powerful caught wind of it, things could go very wrong very quickly. At first, Freddy was nervous that either James or Michael might already have something for Janice and that they¡¯d get in Lucas¡¯s way, but it seemed they were more interested in Lucas¡¯s mom. This was clearly distracting the young man. Freddy noticed this and walked up to intervene. ¡°Hey there,¡± he greeted Hellen, interrupting her conversation with the two men. ¡°Mind if I talk to you for a bit?¡± ¡°Who? Me?¡± Hellen asked, looking a bit confused. ¡°Oh¡­ Sure¡­¡± The two of them stepped away and sat together on the other end of the couch. Freddy was convinced that Lucas would be grateful, but when he looked over at the young man, he spotted him staring with his eyes wide open in horror. He wondered why that was. ¡°You needed me?¡± Hellen interrupted his thoughts. ¡°Ah.¡± Freddy rushed to think of something. ¡°Uh¡­ Oh, yeah, I noticed you and Lucas were in a strange mood this morning. Did something happen?¡± Her expression darkened at that. ¡°It¡¯s a private matter,¡± she said. ¡°I don¡¯t feel comfortable discussing it with a stranger.¡± ¡°No worries,¡± Freddy said as he raised his hands to placate her. ¡°I¡¯m not trying to meddle. I just want to make sure that the two of you know that I¡¯m here to help if you run into any trouble. If someone is causing trouble for you, please don¡¯t keep it a secret from me.¡± She paused at that and looked away. ¡°Thank you¡­¡± she said before narrowing her eyes at him. ¡°About these people¡­ Are they going to move in here, too?¡± ¡°Oh, hahahaha, no,¡± Freddy denied. ¡°I met them on a delve. They helped me out a bit so I promised to treat them.¡± He said as he reached for a drink and took a sip. ¡°And is there a particular reason you pushed my son to hit on that girl?¡± she inquired with a sharp tone. Freddy choked for a moment as his beverage went down the wrong hole. He coughed it out, then chuckled awkwardly. ¡°You noticed that, I see¡­¡± ¡°I¡¯m his mother. Of course I noticed it.¡± She sighed. ¡°While I appreciate the help¡­ please don¡¯t play with my son. He is not a toy.¡± Freddy looked a bit apologetic. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. But I have my reasons. You see the girl he¡¯s talking to?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve taken a good look at her, yes.¡± ¡°Let¡¯s just say that she needs help. But I don¡¯t have a valid reason to single her out. Approaching her will come across as extremely suspicious, and her team will most likely warn her against getting involved with me. If I want to save her from her predicament, I¡¯ll be forced to help her entire team out. If your son likes her, on the other hand, I have a solid excuse to only help her.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t get it,¡± she said. ¡°Why bother? She can hardly refuse your help if you force the issue.¡± ¡°I have no intention of forcing anything. Just because I have the power doesn¡¯t mean I have the right. I have my bottom line.¡± Hellen remained silent at that and slowly looked away. ¡°I see,¡± she whispered before taking her own drink and staring at her reflection in the still, liquid surface. The night continued. Eventually, the group of delvers finally had enough, and they went on their merry way. Lucas waved Janice off, and she waved back with a giggle. Freddy approached the young man with a grin. ¡°So¡­ How did it go?¡± ¡°Well¡­ Not sure what exactly you were aiming at with this, but you can count it as a success¡­ because I have a date.¡± *** The following day, Freddy left the mother-son duo and went to the meeting he had arranged. He walked into the rather opulent cafe and made his way up to the second floor. There, sitting at a lounge with a table full of drinks, Thor and Travis waved him over. Chapter 122 - Crimson Spring Freddy¡¯s meeting with the two men went rather smoothly. His only real requirement was that he wanted to be more of a partner to Valhalla than a subordinate, and Thor agreed to that without much trouble. There was an air of healthy distrust between them¡ªwhile they were willing to work together, neither side had enough information on the other party to say without a doubt that they weren¡¯t up to no good. In the end, they settled on a simple deal: Valhalla would contact Freddy whenever they needed help with something, and then they¡¯d agree on how to pay him for his services. Freddy could do the same thing. Neither side was obligated to listen to the other¡¯s request, but saying no when help was really needed would naturally strain their relations, as was to be expected. After a rather eventful hour of chatting with the two men, Freddy excused himself and left the cafe. As he stepped out into the snowy streets of Repentawa, feeling cold air moving across his skin, he could barely believe that it had only been eight days since he arrived here. It felt like an eternity had passed in a bit over a week. Yet, the next week passed in the blink of an eye. Freddy delved every day while staying away from the dungeon. He wasn¡¯t afraid of going there necessarily, but the place had proven itself capable of pushing him to reveal cards he wanted to keep hidden. Thankfully, there was plenty of other realms he could use for his purposes. To his surprise, most of his income came from foraging. He kept underestimating just how good his perception was after gobbling all those dangerous pills and just how useful his talent was for this purpose. Unsurprisingly, his proficiency was soon noticed by the traders. He was given several offers for any type of information he could provide about the plants he was foraging. Of course, information that others could use. He had plenty of such information. By using his talent, it was trivial to poke a plant and then write down any stand-out characteristics that tied to that level of quality. But he had zero intention of selling the info to the local traders. Depending on who owned them, he¡¯d be helping possible future enemies. Besides, without knowing how much such information could be sold for, he was likely to get scammed. But he still wrote down a lot of the information he collected. Once he gathered enough, he¡¯d make an offer to Valhalla. Monsters were still a notable part of his income, though. The more information he gathered, the better that side of profit competed with the foraging. If his only goal was to get money, he¡¯d stick to collecting plants, but he needed to grow his abilities, too. His main focus at first wasn¡¯t the throwing combo but Crimson Spring and Blood Absorption. He should have developed these two abilities a long while ago, but given how quickly he had been moving through the ranks, he simply didn¡¯t get the opportunity to do so. Getting the blood affinity at the second star was not a common thing, obviously. Because he didn¡¯t have the affinity at his first star, he was still catching up to where his abilities should be. Blood Absorption was super easy with his talent¡¯s help. Usually, he¡¯d have to be careful with the type of blood he absorbed and how much he took in, but with 1% Lifesteal and his undeath, both issues became irrelevant. The standard method for practicing blood absorption was to take in a tiny amount of blood and then slowly hack away at it with blood essence, gradually converting it into one¡¯s own blood. It was a slow, dangerous process; especially if one tried absorbing rotten or poisonous blood. Freddy went at it in a much less restrained way. This allowed him to produce a highly advanced shell for Blood Absorption. An enviable one, actually. As long as the substance was blood, whether it was mixed with random crap, a blend of several different types of blood, toxic, or whatever, he had absolutely no trouble sucking it up through his skin and into his body. This was almost impossible without a specialized talent. Yet again, the overwhelming superiority of 1% Lifesteal shone through. As for his newly-minted Blood Absorption, although impressive, the ability still sucked balls at stage 0. It cost 5% blood essence to absorb just one liter of blood. As it was, it was only useful as a training tool. The reflux essence wasn¡¯t worth it during combat. Next up was Crimson Spring. This one took a few days of dedicated work. He had to meditate for long periods of time, slowly seeping blood essence into his marrow and collecting the pieces of information to puzzle out which concepts he needed to produce more blood. Surprisingly, his talent was quite helpful here yet again. His bone marrow couldn¡¯t possibly be any healthier. There were no imperfections or imbalances to pollute the meditative process. Soon enough, he had Crimson Spring. It would slowly speed up his blood production up to twice the speed at the peak of stage 0, then it would go up to three times the speed at stage 1, then four at stage 2, and so on. He could take two different paths: he could continue down the ordinary Crimson Spring route or convert the ability into Purifying Crimson Spring at stage 1. The regular route would continue speeding up his production of blood, while Purifying Crimson Spring would actually help slowly purify reflux blood essence from within his body. Both would only have a use outside of combat, as their effect would be way too slow to make a difference during a fight. At first glance, this seemed like a no-brainer¡ªthe second option was better¡­ right? But it wasn¡¯t that simple. Throughout the ranks, his blood reserves would increase at an exponential rate. But his blood recovery wouldn¡¯t. Even the ordinary Crimson Spring path didn¡¯t double in speed with every subsequent stage. With Purifying Crimson Spring, his blood recovery would be painfully slow. It was tempting to think that Blood Absorption would be able to make up for this, but that wouldn¡¯t always be the case. He was still leaning a bit towards that option, simply because he always had the option to abuse blood recovery pills since he could heal the damage to his body. He had plenty of time to finalize his choice, though, so he put it aside for now. After finally settling on a design, it didn¡¯t take long to finish the shell for Blood Javelin. When he felt he was close, he hid in the corner of a small realm and kept working on it until he was done. Every time he produced the same shape, he got a bit faster and better at doing it until, eventually, he gathered all the microconcepts he needed and finally crystallized the shell. He simply raised his hand and willed it, and almost instantly, his blood rushed out of his hand and formed the perfect Blood Javelin. Its tip slowly narrowed into a point. Its shaft was smooth enough to see part of his reflection in it, and at the bottom, there was fletching made of thin layers of blood. It wasn¡¯t too heavy due to the low density of blood metal, but it was comfortably thick in his grasp. This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. He didn¡¯t need to think. He didn¡¯t need to focus. He just willed it, and the weapon appeared in his grasp. He grinned goofily at it and caressed it slowly. It was short enough to easily fit into his storage ring, so rather than simply throw it away for no reason, he stored it and raised both hands. Activating the ability with both stars allowed him to create two javelins at once, one in each hand. The act nearly made him cry in joy. Having a throwing weapon ready in the blink of an eye felt incredible. While he did have the option of storing weapons in his storage ring and then taking them out, that took a few moments of focus, and it was quite distracting during a fight. An ability was far quicker and more reliable. The realm he was in had only a single type of monster¡ªthese rat-like creatures that grew up to about his knee and reproduced incredibly quickly. They were also surprisingly valuable. He proceeded to test his new ability by throwing loads of javelins at every rat he spotted. He could land a hit from quite the distance, even if it was a bit unreliable without a finished Hydraulic Throw. More often than not, either the fletching or the tips would chip off, making it pointless to try to reuse the javelins. His Blood Absorption couldn¡¯t absorb hardened blood either, making that blood impossible to recover. But he could suck the rat monsters dry, which recovered more than the blood needed for a single javelin. He didn¡¯t resort to that due to the reflux essence penalty, however. With his throwing skills, Blood Javelin progressed quite quickly, which was hardly a surprise. Not only was he a peak two-star, but he was incredibly strong, allowing him to get a lot of use out of the ability. Through Blood Absorption, he could replenish his blood and keep going for quite a while, but the time needed to meditate the reflux essence away kept increasing as his soul fatigued, and he finally had to give it up. Within just one day, the ability progressed to stage 0¡ª63%. He might be able to upgrade it after another day of work. He gathered as many of the rats as he could and walked back to the passage. It was already nighttime, and the number of people there was quite low. All the stalls still worked, however¡ªthose were open 24/7. There, he sold the corpses and headed back home. He¡¯d earned a good chunk of money during the last week, especially given how much time he set aside just for growing his abilties. He was nearly 300,000 dollars richer. And this was after spending a good chunk of cash to repair and replace the equipment that was damaged during the dungeon run. Speaking of the dungeon run¡­ He pulled out the katar he won as his prize for the contribution he made. The weapon was quite nice, and if he put it up for sale, he was sure he could get a good sum for it. Sighing, he put the weapon away. That dungeon was a truly excellent way to both make a lot of money and to grow his abilities. He was earning money way too slowly through his current methods. But it was risky. A stray thought passed through his mind as he walked back home. What if he went alone? It wasn¡¯t uncommon for the dungeon to have ¡°empty runs¡± as people decided that there were too few delvers to take the plunge. If he could go in there during one of these empty runs, he¡¯d be all by himself. With Blood Sacrifice, he had a good amount of confidence in his ability to pass the waves up to the one that nearly wiped them out last time. Maybe even that one, too. He shook his head and put those thoughts aside. That was a still a bit risky for the time being. Once he returned to his apartment, he was greeted by a familiar sight. Lucas sat on the couch, watching the BC and looking rather bored. ¡°Hey,¡± the boy greeted him. ¡°How¡¯d the delve go?¡± ¡°It went well,¡± Freddy said. The doors to the guest room where Hellen was staying were closed, and presumably, the woman was inside, sleeping. It wasn¡¯t that late in the day yet¡ªit was only 7 p.m. Hellen had been suffering quite a bit over the last week. Although it wasn¡¯t as bad as withdrawal from drugs, withdrawal from gambling wasn¡¯t easy to deal with, either. The woman¡¯s sleep schedule was royally fucked, and she was always eating something. Headaches, irritability, and wild mood swings appeared on a daily basis. Funnily enough, she didn¡¯t seem to know why she was feeling like that¡ªwell¡­ she wasn¡¯t willing to admit it. ¡°Hey, your date is tonight, right?¡± Freddy asked the young man. Lucas nodded, but frankly, he didn¡¯t really look in the mood for a date. Or anything, really. Freddy chuckled and walked over to him. He sat beside Lucas and put a hand on his shoulder. ¡°Your mum will be fine,¡± he said, tapping him on his back. ¡°I don¡¯t know about that,¡± Lucas said with a dark laugh. ¡°We¡¯re in a better position than we¡¯ve been in¡­ ever¡­ but¡­ She keeps talking about ¡®paying back the favor¡¯. She tries to make it seem like she plans to do so through hard work, but¡­ I can see it in her eyes. It¡¯s like she¡¯s just waiting for us to drop our guard.¡± He shook his head. ¡°I don¡¯t get it. How can she be like this?¡± ¡°It¡¯s a sickness,¡± Freddy said, thinking back to some of his adopted parents¡¯ old friends. ¡°She probably won¡¯t fully recover until we get her to a therapist.¡± Lucas winced. ¡°Won¡¯t that be expensive?¡± Freddy chuckled. ¡°Nonsense. Compared to what I¡¯m ready to spend on you two, it can barely even be considered an additional cost. Anyway, enough about this. Go get ready to go out.¡± Lucas sighed and chuckled. ¡°Sure thing¡­ I guess.¡± Freddy looked at him for a long moment. ¡°Do you feel pressured to go out with this girl?¡± The boy paused for a moment. ¡°No¡­ she¡¯s¡­ I mean¡ª¡± ¡°You don¡¯t have to go,¡± Freddy said simply. ¡°Sorry if I made you feel like you had to do it for my sake.¡± ¡°What¡­?¡± Lucas muttered. ¡°No, no, don¡¯t get me wrong! I¡¯m¡ªWell, I¡¯m willing to go out with her¡ªactually, I quite like her if I¡¯m being honest, it¡¯s just¡­¡± ¡°Hmm?¡± Freddy hummed with a quirked eyebrow. ¡°What¡¯s the problem?¡± ¡°I¡­¡± The young man hesitated. ¡°I realize that¡­. to you it¡­ The difference, you know, between a mortal and low-level one-star? It probably doesn¡¯t really mean much to you, but to me, she¡¯s¡­ She¡¯s a freakin¡¯ archhuman! Like when I was talking to her, this didn¡¯t bother me, but now, you know, I think she only really gave me the time of day because I¡¯m¡ª¡± ¡°Because you¡¯re connected to me somehow?¡± Lucas froze. Then, he slowly nodded. ¡°Yeah. Exactly.¡± He shrank in on himself. ¡°I mean what can I even offer? I¡¯m not good-looking, smart, strong, rich; I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m just a random loser. You know¡­ I still have some pride! Getting a girl just because of another dude¡­ Yeah, that doesn¡¯t sit well with me.¡± Freddy chuckled hard at that. ¡°Oh, man. Yeah, I get you. That¡¯s valid. I wasn¡¯t really thinking about that. But try to think of it like this¡ªyour average good-looking, powerful, rich dude your age is only in that position because of their background. Do you think they think of their dad, uncles, grandpas, or whoever fought for the opportunities they were given and then think ¡®man, these women only like me because of other men¡¯? They obviously don¡¯t give a shit.¡± Lucas chuckled at that. ¡°Yeah, I¡­ That¡¯s different, though.¡± ¡°How so?¡± ¡°That¡¯s family,¡± Lucas said. ¡°That¡¯s part of who they are.¡± ¡°Is it really?¡± Freddy asked, sighing and shaking his head. He thought back to his own parents, the people who gave him away on the same day he was born. He snorted. ¡°You¡¯d be surprised how little separates family from strangers.¡± Lucas gave him an odd look, so Freddy rushed to change the topic, ¡°Anyway, there are very few people in this world who are entirely self-made. In fact, almost everyone in power is only there because the road was paved by their ancestors. You didn¡¯t get particularly lucky with your background, but what¡¯s wrong with relying on me? If anything, the only reason I¡¯m really helping you is because I like you as a person. You¡¯re already a step ahead of your average young master in that sense. ¡°Their parents would have probably raised them no matter how terrible their personality. Meanwhile, if you had turned out to be a piece of shit, I¡¯d have dropped you off on the street in the blink of an eye.¡± ¡°Wow¡­ That¡¯s not as encouraging as you probably think it is.¡± Freddy laughed. ¡°Just don¡¯t worry about it. You¡¯ll get some help from me and then it will be up to you to pave your path forward. A year or two from now you probably won¡¯t even remember this conversation. Anyway, enough about that. Just go and have fun for tonight.¡± ¡°Sure¡­¡± the boy said with an exaggerated sigh. ¡°By the way¡­ I was going to ask you¡­ Can I pick which talent I want?¡± ¡°Of course,¡± Freddy said. ¡°We¡¯ll pick a prime for you together. Is there a reason you¡¯re asking?¡± ¡°No, I just¡­ It¡¯s nothing.¡± Lucas shook his head. ¡°Wish me luck.¡± ¡°Good luck,¡± he said in a playful tone. Freddy watched the BC for a while as Lucas got ready. Frankly, he was already planning to move the mother-son duo out of his apartment and into their own place. They didn¡¯t necessarily bother him here, but he wanted to allow Bloodshed to come out. Without privacy, that was impossible. After Lucas left, Freddy had a dinner and started getting ready to work on his tempering techniques. But he was interrupted by a knock. He slowly moved towards the door and took a peek through the peephole. A strange man stood on the other side¡ªit was someone he had never seen before. He was taller than the average man, and his hair had unnatural blond streaks through it. Freddy could tell that the man was a two-star. Cautiously, he opened the door. ¡°Hello there¡­ Is there something I can help you with?¡± ¡°Hello, Mr. Cliff. I apologize for disturbing you,¡± the man said as he raised his hand. There was a letter in his grip, and he offered it to Freddy. ¡°Boss told me to forward this to you.¡± ¡°Boss?¡± ¡°Thor.¡± Freddy¡¯s eyes widened. He nodded and grabbed the letter. The man nodded in turn and went on his merry way. After walking back to his room, Freddy cracked the letter open and took a peek inside. Chapter 123 - Invitation Freddy extracted a small piece of paper from the envelope and unfurled it to take a look. Inside was a message from Thor, written in messy handwriting: HEY THERE, PAL. BEEN A WHILE! I HOPE YOU¡¯VE RECOVERED FROM THOSE INJURIES! ANYWAY, ABOUT THE REASON I¡¯M CONTACTING YOU¡­ SOME PEOPLE HAVE BEEN GOING MISSING LATELY, SO WE¡¯VE TAKEN A CLOSER LOOK AND FOUND A SHADY ORGAN TRADE ON THE WEST SIDE OF THE CITY. WE¡¯RE GONNA BUST IT TOMORROW. I WANT YOU TO JOIN US. IT SHOULDN¡¯T BE TOO DANGEROUS FROM WHAT WE CAN TELL. TO BE HONEST, THE ONLY REASON I¡¯M INVITING YOU IS THAT I WANT TO SEE WHAT YOU¡¯RE MADE OF. YOU¡¯LL FIND AN ADDRESS WRITTEN ON THE BACK OF THE ENVELOPE. MEET US THERE TOMORROW AT 6 P.M. DON¡¯T FORGET TO BRING YOUR GEAR WITH YOU. SIGNED, THOR. The man had signed the letter with an essence-imbued ether signature, which felt exactly the same as the man¡¯s aura, verifying the letter''s legitimacy. As written in the message, there was an address on the back of the envelope. Freddy sighed and folded the paper before storing it in his ring. The message said nothing about compensation. But given the fact that he had to be there at 6 p.m., they would likely have a meeting to prepare before setting off sometime during the night. If he was being entirely honest, this was so cool. Come on, they were going to bust a criminal operation in the middle of the night? That was badass as fuck. His more pragmatic side was a bit worried, however. He didn¡¯t know what kind of people he¡¯d be going up against and he had no idea what kind of role he was expected to play. Not to mention that this would be it¡ªonce he joined them on this operation, that would be the point of no return. He¡¯d officially become tied to Valhalla, and that could spell all sorts of trouble for him. He spent the rest of the evening meditating and tempering. Lucas returned a few hours later. He had a small smile on his face. Clearly, the date had gone well. Before heading to sleep, Freddy wrote down his progress: GATHERING: Second star¡ª199% essence capacity 2-star satellite TALENT: 1% Lifesteal: Dynamic-quality healing SOUL CONSTRUCT: Scythe: Essence Extraction TEMPERING TECHNIQUES: Blood affinity: Lake of Blood: Stage 2¡ª1% Progress Crimson Mercury: Stage 1¡ª50% Progress Crimson Spring: Stage 0¡ª11% Progress Water affinity: Adaptive Water Body: Stage 1¡ªComplete Thousand Wet Hells: Stage 1¡ª48% Progress Abyssal Depths: Stage 1¡ª92% Progress ACTIVE ABILITIES: Blood affinity: Gore Knuckles: Stage 1¡ª84% Progress Blood Javelin: Stage 0¡ª63% Progress Absorb Blood: Stage 0¡ª2% Progress Accelerate Blood Projectile: Unfinished ether shell Water affinity: Flowing Strike: Stage 1¡ª94% Progress Hydraulic Flex: Stage 1¡ª81% Progress Create Water: Stage 1¡ª53% Progress Purify: Stage 1¡ª0% Progress Pressure Jet: Unfinished ether shell Hydraulic Throw: Unfinished ether shell Perished water affinity: Perished Water: Stage 0¡ª8% Progress Ghosts of the Drowned: Stage 0¡ª8% Progress SPIRIT ABILITIES: Blood Sacrifice Leviathan¡¯s Fury UNIQUE CURSED ITEMS: Blood Ring: -6% essence cost, +5% power for blood-affinity abilities. Can be used to release Bloodshed. Attacks inflict minor bleeding. As he looked through and compared his progress to the last time he wrote it down, he couldn¡¯t help but sigh a bit. This was starting to become a little problematic. A few of his tempering abilities were starting to encounter bottlenecks, and the sheer number of abilities he had to keep up with was staggering. While his rise to the peak of the second star had been meteoric, going up so quickly in gathering had left the rest of his progress lagging way behind. If it weren¡¯t for his abnormal physical power and spirit abilities, he¡¯d be far from being able to contend with anyone at his level. This was a problem that needed to be fixed. The sooner, the better. He was already getting into a groove with his delving habits, but he needed to cut out a stricter schedule for everything else. He¡¯d been sleeping in a bit too much lately, mostly because he was too lazy to get up earlier. This was inexcusable. While his talent couldn¡¯t remove the need for sleep, it could allow him to get away with very little of it. He needed to know just how far he could push this. He¡¯d start with 6 hours to see if there were any adverse effects and then slowly cut it down until he noticed that he couldn¡¯t go further. Other than that, he had to continue physical training, he had to start buying training resources to help speed up his progress, he had to find a proper place to train using his abilities, he needed to find a way to learn how to fight better, he had to start trying to make money through means other than delving, he had to¡ªThe tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. One thing after another rushed into his mind, nearly giving him a headache. He sighed and pushed these thoughts aside. He didn¡¯t even own an alarm, and he knew from experience that he needed a really aggressive one to force himself to wake up early. This schedule stuff could wait one more day. For now, he¡¯d get a good night of rest and mentally prepare himself for tomorrow evening. To his surprise, he woke up rather early. He went delving and wrapped up before noon, then spent the rest of the waiting time meditating to make sure he completely eliminated all the reflux essence in his body. Before he even realized it, it was already 5 p.m. It was time to get ready to go. *** The day was slowly coming to an end. The skies were a gloomy grey and clouded over. A number of snowflakes twirled through the air on their path down into the forests below. Suddenly, a flying carriage flew by, sending the snow into a chaotic storm as it whistled away into the horizon. In the northeastern part of the American Empire, not too far from the border to the Northern Belt, five people sat inside the carriage that was heading straight towards the Northern Spine. Mark sat in silence while tempering. Faint traces of numerous metals slowly seeped into the calcium structure of his bones, slowly morphing it into an alloy that was harder and tougher than steel. Nahar sat across him, also tempering, while Basilisk lounged in the front, reading a newspaper and smiling to himself. On the other end of the room sat two strange people. One of them was a short, black-haired man. And the other was a tall woman with similarly dark hair. They sported faint scars across their skin, and they sat in quiet with their eyes closed. Mark finally couldn¡¯t bear the effects of the tempering technique and had to take a break. As he slowly breathed out, he opened his eyes. They looked normal. He had nothing but an ordinary pair of round pupils. Well, that was what they looked like. In reality, he had undergone a very expensive surgery. Lenses covered his eyes, creating an illusion that nothing was wrong. Slowly, he moved to take a look at the two people sitting in the back. They immediately noticed that he was looking at him. In complete synchrony, they opened their eyes to stare back at him. Their square pupils were a piercing reminder of their identity and Mark¡¯s deal. The two of them had also been subjected to the same surgery as Mark had. However, it simply didn¡¯t work. The lenses refused to bind and stay in place, no matter what the doctors did. While Mark¡¯s pupils were allowed to be concealed, it seemed that the square shape had a unique significance to the two of them. They gave him a questioning glance, but he simply shook his head slightly and looked away. Back when he made the deal, he didn¡¯t care about a single thing. He was at rock bottom. But now, when things were slightly calmer, he couldn¡¯t help but worry. He had received something truly remarkable in return for rescuing them. Either the being he had forged a deal with was so unfathomably powerful that it could give away such gifts without a problem, or these two were so important that it was forced to make a sacrifice. Both possibilities were terrifying in their own unique ways. Mark couldn¡¯t stop himself from shooting a glance at Nahar as well. The young master had also been there with him when they visited that strange realm. The being most certainly had a connection to Nahar the same way it had a connection to Mark. As for why it chose to make the deal with him instead of Nahar, he couldn¡¯t tell. But the possibility that it was still planning to use the man wasn¡¯t off the table. He couldn¡¯t help but chuckle at himself. There was no point in trying to see through that thing¡¯s plans. He was already playing a pawn. The last thing he wanted to do was make the wrong move and get eaten up. ¡°Well boys,¡± Basilisk suddenly said as he slammed the newspaper shut and got up into a seated position. ¡°We¡¯re getting close.¡± Mark squinted at the man. ¡°Are you finally going to tell me what the plan is for the two of them?¡± he said with a head gesture towards the two in the back. ¡°If you don¡¯t tell me how you plan to get them across the border, I¡¯ll be forced to take them over the Northern Spine myself.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t be an idiot,¡± Basilisk said, shaking his head and sighing. ¡°That is simply suicide. Even the empress would have to risk her life to go over the peaks. But I guess I should come out and say it,¡± he said with a mischievous smile. He dug into his pocket and took out a necklace. Then, he threw it at Mark. ¡°A storage necklace?¡± Mark asked with a confused frown. Basilisk grinned. ¡°Not just any storage necklace. Take a look inside.¡± Mark took a peak. It was completely empty. The space inside wasn¡¯t too impressive, but it was stretched a bit, almost like his own storage ring which he had to adjust to be able to fit his massive sword in there. This space, however, was a little bit bigger than the one in his storage ring, but other than that, there was nothing special about it. ¡°This is empty,¡± Mark dryly said. ¡°An astute observation,¡± Basilisk said snarkily. ¡°I don¡¯t see where you¡¯re going with this. Are you suggesting I stuff them in this space or something?¡± Mark commented sarcastically, but¡ª ¡°Yup.¡± Mark blinked. ¡°Huh?¡± Living things could be put into storage rings, but the requirements for being able to do that were tricky. The living creature had to either fully consent to being placed inside or completely unconscious, and it couldn¡¯t be bigger than a small dog. And even then, things couldn¡¯t survive in there for long. Air was an obvious problem, but the bigger issue was that most living things produced heat, and the heat had nowhere to go inside the storage ring, resulting in the creature getting cooked alive. ¡°Indeed, that¡¯s a special necklace made specifically to be able to carry people within,¡± Basilisk confirmed. On second look, Mark noticed that the space inside was almost exactly big enough to store two humans inside. ¡°Is this safe?¡± he asked. ¡°It¡¯s pretty safe for the most part,¡± Basilisk said honestly. ¡°Usually, the purpose of this treasure is to help someone with a highly specialized movement technique take others with them into spaces that couldn¡¯t otherwise be accessed by multiple people. The better they prepare, the longer they¡¯ll be able to last inside.¡± Mark frowned at that but didn¡¯t say anything. He had never heard of a treasure like this, but with advancements in etherology, new stuff was always popping up on the market. He made sure to check the necklace up and down to ensure there were no tricks of any kind. Once he was confident that it was safe, he simply nodded. ¡°This will do.¡± ¡°Brilliant. We¡¯re gonna be there soon. Get ready to load them up.¡± The border crossing did not go without trouble. With a trio of three-stars aiming to leave the empire, not to mention with one of them being a recently demoted Lord, they were thoroughly interrogated about their intentions and asked to report where exactly they would be residing a week from then at the latest. Mark was a bit nervous seeing how thoroughly they were being ribbed, and he was starting to fear they might ask to search their belongings. But it never went that far, thankfully. Basilisk¡¯s interviews lasted for quite a while, as was to be expected. However, Mark was the one who they kept the longest. He had gone up to his current level of power at an insane speed. The only people who could compete with his rate of growth had achieved it through incredibly dangerous or costly means. Either that, or they had made a huge sacrifice. On top of his freakish gathering speed, he was getting uncomfortably close to the peak of the third star¡ªhe was already at 287% gathering capacity. He settled on the explanation Basilisk advised him to give¡ªhe had attained his growth through a method that cost him a massive portion of his future lifespan. This was a lie, of course. But they had no way to prove whether he was telling the truth or not. They kept trying to probe him for evidence or a more detailed elaboration, but he mostly kept his mouth shut. While they might be allowed to keep him there for quite a while, they had no actual legal standing to refuse to let him through the border. He didn¡¯t break any laws. They had no evidence of wrongdoing. He didn¡¯t have to worry about those two, either¡ªthey were safe in the storage necklace and had been equipped with a number of things that could keep them alive for days if not weeks. Thus, he simply remained quiet and waited out the interrogation. A whole two days later, they finally allowed them through. Basilisk had been extremely stingy with the details of their trip. Mark suspected it was because the man also had zero clue where exactly they were headed. And while his guess wasn¡¯t necessarily correct, it wasn¡¯t far from the truth. The first few days they spent there were mostly spent looking for details about the surrounding cities. Basilisk was extremely proficient at locating reliable information vendors, and it didn¡¯t take them long to build an extensive list of cities they could choose to settle in. The area they were in was close to where a major city used to exist back on Old Earth¡ªMontreal. Unfortunately for the many people who used to live there, the Northern Spine hadn¡¯t been particularly considerate when it was forming. Almost the entire city was caught in the formation of the mountain range, with the small part that wasn¡¯t finding itself flooding due to the formation of a new lake. But there was another major city that had managed to survive¡ªOttawa. It was a city that had survived total annihilation, even if the vast majority of the former population had perished in the first few years of the Rift. There were a few smaller but notable cities in the surroundings, including Repentawa, which seemed to be growing quite rapidly, making it an optimal location to start a business empire. And thus, that ended up being the exact place they went. Chapter 124 - Welcome Aboard Before heading to the arranged site, Freddy sent Bloodshed to scout the area first. Just in case. Thankfully, it seemed that there was no trap. Thor was waiting in the corner of an alley, right behind a dumpster, with a hood pulled over his head, smoking a cigarette. A car was parked nearby. To be honest, Freddy was surprised that he¡¯d be welcomed by Thor personally. For what reason the leader of a rather major local faction would do something like this, he didn¡¯t know. Perhaps he didn¡¯t trust Freddy, or maybe he just wanted to personally welcome him as a showing of good faith. At any rate, Freddy was feeling a bit apprehensive. ¡°Thank you, Bloodshed. Come back now.¡± Freddy slowly walked over to the site. Thor noticed him without even looking and then gestured towards the car as he flicked the cigarette butt into a nearby dumpster. ¡°Come,¡± the man said. Freddy nodded and followed. They sat in the car, with Thor taking the driver¡¯s seat. They sat in silence for a while as they slowly drove out of the city. Thor took a seemingly random turn off the main road and onto a barely-maintained dirt road. The car handled the rough road with ease, and before long, they finally approached a massive gate. The gate slowly opened, and they drove through. As the thick forest started to clear, Freddy spotted four buildings. They were heavily reinforced, with a military-style look to them. To Freddy¡¯s surprise, he didn¡¯t remember noticing this place when he was looking over the city. It seemed that there was some sort of array set up to disguise the site as a random patch of forest. There was no way in hell that this place was a secret to the other factions, but even if they knew where it was, it definitely wasn¡¯t easy to get inside. Thick, tall walls with barbed wire on top surrounded the entire site, with a number of armed guards patrolling around. Most wielded crossbows, with a few people using a real bow. They all had different weapons besides their ranged options. Crossbows were quite useful. Their maximum power could never compare to the might of a well-developed ability, but they could be given to any random shmuck. Faced with a squad of mortals equipped with crossbows, even some two-stars had to be careful. If the bolts coated with poison or inscribed in some way, getting hit could spell real trouble. ¡°How do you like our headquarters?¡± Thor asked. ¡°Pretty nice, eh?¡± ¡°It¡¯s¡­ neat. Do you live here?¡± Freddy asked. ¡°I sleep here,¡± Thor said with a shrug. ¡°But during the daytime, I spend most of my days living downtown. Almost everyone else lives over in that building over there,¡± he said, pointing a finger at the tallest of the four buildings there. Out of the four, it most resembled a residential building. ¡°So you gather everyone here while you spend time somewhere else?¡± Freddy asked with a hint of judgment. ¡°Doesn¡¯t that endanger the people living here?¡± Thor grinned. ¡°Without a car to hold me back, I can be here within a few minutes from anywhere within the city. Don¡¯t worry about the people living here. We have some tough motherfuckers on our side.¡± Freddy quirked an eyebrow. ¡°What about that dungeon run the other day? You can¡¯t leave the dungeon early. What if someone had decided to attack Valhalla at that moment?¡± Thor smirked. ¡°Who says that I can¡¯t leave the dungeon early? Here¡¯s a tip¡ªthe portcullis that locks the dungeon isn¡¯t indestructible. Well, it takes a hell of a striking power to break through, but I can handle it easily.¡± Thor pulled up to what looked like the main building and slowly left the car. ¡°Enough about that. Come, we¡¯re a bit late to the meeting.¡± Freddy followed after the man. A massive metal door slid open, and they walked into the building. Freddy was surprised by the interior. He had expected a cold interior of grey metal and floor tiles, but to his shock, everything was clad in wood. Wooden support beams up ahead, wooden floorboards, even statues carved out of wood. The inside of the building was definitely expanded compared to the outside, which Freddy had already expected. The degree of expansion was undoubtedly a bit surprising, though, given the apparent length of the hallway in front of him. They didn¡¯t go all the way down the hallway. They stepped into an elevator instead, which took them straight to the meeting room. As they stepped inside, Freddy¡¯s footsteps momentarily paused. In a room decorated in wood, with armor racks displaying all sorts of weapons and armor spanning the whole round wall, twenty-some people sat at a round table. Other than Thor, nobody was holding their aura back. There were only three people whose aura could compare to Freddy¡¯s¡ªTravis, the tall, blond man he met before; some brunette woman wearing red leather armor; and a short, bald old guy with nasty scars across his face. As for the rest of the people, there were very few above halfway through their second star. Most of the people were men, with only four women present. Everyone wore heavy armor and sported scars across their skin. Their weapons were all within hand¡¯s reach. While the aura pressure wasn¡¯t overwhelming due to the lack of people above his level, its sheer thickness was still uncomfortable. ¡°Damn, this is the new guy?¡± the woman in red armor sneered. ¡°I can see my reflection in his pearly-ass skin from all the way over here.¡± That instantly made everyone present laugh uproariously, with even Thor joining with a light chuckle. Thor finally waved them down to get them to quieten. ¡°Now, now, I wouldn¡¯t underestimate this guy just because of his looks. Man got some special healing powers¡ªscars just don¡¯t stick to him; ain¡¯t that right?¡± he asked Freddy with a tap on his shoulder. ¡°Yeah¡­¡± Freddy admitted reluctantly. Frankly, he was feeling waaay out of his element. His palms were sweating, and he was struggling to scrounge up the confidence to raise his voice. These people were serious warriors who had earned the right to call themselves that through numerous trials. While he had seen some real shit and overcome impossible hardships, he was still relatively young and inexperienced. It was hard to keep himself from feeling pressured. ¡°Anyway, this man is Freddy Cliff,¡± Thor introduced him. ¡°Freddy, meet the gang.¡± ¡°Hey there, Fred,¡± Travis greeted. ¡°You already know me.¡± ¡°I¡¯m Lara,¡± the red-armored woman said, sporting a small smile. ¡°My name¡¯s Jeffrey,¡± the old man beside her said. Slowly, one by one, the rest of the people introduced themselves. While his peak two-star mind usually had no trouble keeping track of information, Freddy suddenly found himself struggling to memorize everyone¡¯s names. Once they were done with introductions, Freddy took the nearest empty spot and sat down. Thor walked over to the other end of the room and pressed a button on the table. Immediately, a projection appeared floating in the air, and he turned to look at it. Pictures of an old building during nighttime appeared. The exterior was a bland, depressing grey, with black streaks of thriving mold wherever the water dripped down its facade. It was seven stories tall. All of the windows had their shades lowered. The lights were off in all but a handful of the rooms present. The entrance was tucked between what looked like an old warehouse and a wire fence. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. Freddy¡¯s eyes narrowed. He had seen this building before. It wasn¡¯t too far from where Lucas used to live. After revealing the picture and a top-down map of where it was located, Thor went into detail about what was inside the building. This was the location of an organ trade secretly sponsored by Strata. Strata was one of the five major local factions. They were a corporate entity much like Gem & Faller Co. But while Gem & Faller dealt in a number of miscellaneous businesses, mostly related to finance, casinos, and loan services, Strata¡¯s main area of influence was healthcare. They had a pretty much exclusive monopoly on any form of medical treatment in Repentawa. They owned the stores that sold healing medicine, they owned the hospitals, and they owned all the private ordinances, including dentists, physical therapists, and even the psychologists. The prices of all their services were usually hiked up pretty damn high. But it seemed that that wasn¡¯t enough for them. Organ trades were, unfortunately, extremely common pretty much everywhere in the world. It wasn¡¯t rare for archhumans to suffer severe injuries leading to extreme damage to their organs. While supernatural-quality healing could regrow lost tissue, this tissue was far inferior to what was lost. The only way to bring an organ back to perfect health was through superior-quality healing. But that was expensive. And mortals¡¯ bodies were dirt cheap. With specialized talents and life-affinity abilities, transplanting organs was far easier than it was back on Old Earth. Stuff like blood type or genetic incompatibility could be easily avoided. The organs could also be kept alive without much difficulty, and extracting them with minimal damage was trivial for specialists. After detailing the locations of where the people were kept, the operating rooms, and the guard rotation, they quickly formed a plan on how they¡¯d tackle the raid. Everyone was given a role based on what they were best at. Then, it was Freddy¡¯s turn. ¡°Now for our newcomer!¡± Thor said dramatically as he put his hands on his hips. ¡°Hmm¡­ You know, given what I saw of you, I¡¯d say you¡¯d be best suited for a vanguard position. In fact, I¡¯d put you in the very front and have you break into the building and lead the charge. But¡­ Yeah, that is not a safe position to take. If you don¡¯t have faith in your ability to handle that, don¡¯t be shy. We can put you somewhere else.¡± Although he really wanted to say ¡°put me in the back so I can throw shit from afar,¡± the expectant looks of the hardened warriors present made his pride flare up. ¡°No problem, man,¡± he said, pointing a shaky thumb at himself. ¡°I¡¯m confident in my toughness.¡± He was a man, after all. The manliest of men. And men were very dumb when not being dumb included looking like a little bitch. Thor nodded. ¡°Good. We¡¯ll put you in the front then. Don¡¯t worry, their guards shouldn¡¯t be too tough. If you get injured, pull back immediately and get healed as soon as possible. Got it?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°Alrighty then. That should be it. Get your gear together and let¡¯s go. As for you, Freddy, I¡¯d like you to follow me to the back. I have a present for you.¡± Freddy was caught off guard, but he nodded and followed along. Thor took him down a long hallway and into what appeared to be an armory. Inside, there were numerous different weapons and uncountable pieces of armor, all neatly arranged. He could tell that not a single piece of the equipment hanging there was trivial. There were even many cursed items present. Thor walked past most of those and went to the back. With a small key, he unlocked a door and went inside. Freddy¡¯s breath caught in his throat. If the last room was full of expensive stuff¡­ then this was where they kept the best pieces they had. Thor stopped in the middle of the room and sighed deeply. ¡°I don¡¯t know who you are or where exactly you came from, but I¡¯ve dealt with many people in my life, and I have a great trust in my ability to judge people¡¯s character.¡± He slowly turned to face Freddy. ¡°And you, my man, definitely aren¡¯t from the Northern Belt,¡± he stated with utter confidence. Freddy paused. ¡°What gave it away?¡± ¡°A lifetime of experience dealing with people who¡¯ve lived here their whole lives. I¡¯ll spare you the details,¡± he said with a chuckle. ¡°That being said, I don¡¯t exactly fully trust you yet. It wouldn¡¯t be the first time I¡¯ve been wrong about someone. But this time¡­ I¡¯m gonna take a risk.¡± He walked over to a closed glass case. Within, there was trench coat. It was nearly pitch black, with a large hood hanging off the back. Thor slowly pulled it off its rack, momentarily revealing its insides. Once Freddy spotted the inner surface of the coat, his eyes widened slightly. It was inscribed with glowing runes¡ªindicating it was imbued with tzenekite. ¡°Don¡¯t look at me like that,¡± Thor said with a chuckle. ¡°It¡¯s only a one-star imbuement.¡± ¡°A one-star imbuement is on its own as expensive as a one-star satellite,¡± Freddy said. ¡°And the material doesn¡¯t look cheap.¡± ¡°Hey, I wouldn''t give you a random piece of trash for your welcome gift.¡± He turned around and threw the coat at Freddy. Freddy caught it. It was super heavy, almost like it was woven out of metal thread, but it was soft and flexible to the touch. ¡°As for the enchantments,¡± Thor said, ¡°it has minor self-repair and major shock absorption. It can be worn over armor if you want to be extra bulky, but that will make you pretty damn heavy, so keep that in mind.¡± Freddy nodded as he looked at the armor. Many people didn¡¯t understand the difference between enchanted and cursed equipment. But it was quite simple. Enchanted equipment had modifying effects that applied to the equipment itself, while cursed items affected the user. On top of that, unless they were a part of a multi-piece set, people could only use two cursed items at once, while they could cover themselves in enchanted equipment from head to toe. The enchantments on their own had a very limited effect. They could only hold so much energy, and once that energy ran out, their effect would vanish, and it could only be slowly replenished as the runes naturally gathered ether of applicable affinities. With a tzenekite imbuement, however, the runes could recover way faster. The higher the level of the imbuement, the faster they could recover, but even just a one-star imbuement made a world of difference. This had a major and a minor rune on it. A major rune could hold 30% essence capacity within, while a minor one could only hold 10%. With a one-star imbuement, it took 30 seconds for the major and 10 seconds for the minor rune to refill once fully emptied. The runes would activate whenever he took damage. Shock absorption could help him deal with incoming damage, while self-repair would undo any damage the armor took. If the armor suffered more damage than the self-repair could fix at once, or if the armor was damaged while the self-repair rune was empty, that damage would stick around until it was manually fixed. Still, anything short of significant chunks being torn out will be quickly taken care of. He deliberated on it for a few moments, and decided he would wear the coat over his existing armor. It would further slow him down and make him even heavier, but the combined protection was definitely worth it. ¡°Keep that thing safe, you hear me?¡± Thor said with a smirk. ¡°And I hope I¡¯m right about you. Don¡¯t disappoint me.¡± Freddy nodded. ¡°Thank you. This is a really great gift. I appreciate it.¡± ¡°It¡¯s an investment,¡± Thor scoffed. ¡°I just hope it pays off. Anyway, we have some stuff we gotta do. There¡¯s a lot of time left until we have to leave, so until then, I¡¯m gonna give you a quick rundown on some things you should know.¡± Freddy nodded. They went back to the meeting room. There, Thor slowly explained how they communicated, how they operated, what signs and codes meant what, what to do in specific scenarios, and so on. If Freddy hadn¡¯t been a peak two-star, this would have had to be weeks long training, but with his memory, he picked everything up as soon as it was explained to him. Still, the tutoring lasted for hours. Eventually, they joined the others in the locker rooms to get ready to leave. Freddy was once again surprised. The women were changing in the same room as the men. He didn¡¯t comment on it and simply kept his gaze away. Well, to be fair, it wasn¡¯t like there was much to see. Everyone was already wearing a body suit beneath. Except for him, of course. He slowly extracted his equipment from his storage ring and started putting it on. Before he could put his helmet on, he was given a small crystal device by one of the men. ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± he asked. ¡°A communication device,¡± the man said simply. ¡°Just put it in your ear. Whenever you have to use it, pour a bit of essence into it, and it will light right up, allowing you to send a message to everyone wearing one. Don¡¯t use it unless strictly necessary. It¡¯s for important information only.¡± Freddy nodded and put the device into his ear. Once he finally finished equipping his armor, he pulled the trench coat over it. ¡°Damn,¡± one of the girls cheered. ¡°Lookin¡¯ good, new guy!¡± The guys also joined in on the jeering, making Freddy blush beneath his helmet. He pulled the hood over his head. He got a good look at himself in the mirror. His bulky body, with the added armor and trench coat, made him look like a walking tank. He gave off an imposing yet professional feeling, like a bodybuilder champion grim reaper who had just arrived at a business meeting. With that, their preparations were ready. They all climbed into large black vans and set off for the city. It was 11 p.m. when they left. They would strike at midnight. The vans were parked a while from the building, keeping enough space to not appear suspicious. Many of the scouts and snipers already got into place. ¡°Three guards are entering through the back, over and out,¡± a man¡¯s voice came from the device in Freddy¡¯s ear. Soon enough, another male voice came. ¡°The prisoners are in the same location as previously confirmed,¡± he said, referring to the basement. ¡°One is currently under operation on the third floor. Fourth through seventh floors inactive. 26 guards on duty. Over and out.¡± As such, the time kept passing. Every so often, the scouts would update the situation, noting guard and prisoner movements. Freddy waited in the van parked closest to the building, together with the rest of the vanguard. His palms were getting sweatier by the minute, and he felt like he was dying beneath all the layers of armor. He was given refreshments by the rest of the crew. They handed him what seemed to be a special potion. It helped him cool down and relax slightly. ¡°Get into position,¡± Thor¡¯s voice sounded through the comms. ¡°We¡¯re going in. Over and out.¡± Chapter 125 - The Raid The stage was set. As the clock ticked to midnight, the doors on the van opened, and the vanguard left one by one, with Freddy standing at the very front. ¡°You got this, big guy,¡± the red-armored woman, Lara, said as she tapped him on his shoulder. ¡°Remember the protocol.¡± Freddy nodded. The voice of a scout sounded through the comms, and all the groups got into position. The vanguard was composed of most of the melee fighters there. There was another, smaller unit headed by an assassin. They would break through the top floor and make their way down. Last but not least, Thor, who was accompanied by Travis and Jeffrey, would move in through the back while the guards were distracted to secure the prisoners and prevent the guards from trying to hold them hostage. As for the vanguard¡ªthey were going in through the front. They all stood around 250 meters away from the entrance. There was only an empty road between them and their target. ¡°On my mark,¡± one of the ranged casters said through the comms. Then, he started counting down from ten. Freddy got into position to start running. His leg muscles flexed, and his back straightened. He leaned forward, pressing his feet firmly into the ground and locking his eyes on the target. ¡°Go!¡± the ranger signaled. The asphalt beneath Freddy¡¯s feet fractured as he instantly activated Hydraulic Flex and charged forward. At first, he was immediately overtaken by the rest of the vanguard, who slowed down slightly to let him catch up, but as he kept running, he kept accelerating. The distance between them and the building rapidly vanished. 200 meters. 150 meters. 100 meters.
  1. 80. 50¡ª
With a flash of piercing light, a fiery projectile flew from one of the nearby buildings and impacted the entrance doors. The explosion rattled the whole building, but the metal doors remained standing despite the detonation. However, their hinges had loosened, and they had slightly caved in. 40 meters. 30, 20, 10¡ª Freddy activated Flowing Strike, timing it to offload all of his momentum into the metal door. With an intense sound of screeching metal, fractures spreading through the nearby walls, and a large cloud of kicked-up dust, the entrance burst apart, opening the path into the hallway. ¡°Intruders!¡± a guard shouted, and the voices of numerous men came cursing from deeper within the building. An alarm sounded through the whole building. Without pause, Freddy ran inside. ¡°Stop! What do you think you¡¯re¡ª¡± the guard shouted as he raised a sword to strike Freddy, but his words were cut off as Freddy literally ran through him, using nothing but the momentum of his body to throw the man aside like a broken ragdoll. Doors opened deeper in the hallway, and guards rushed out, filling the entire space before him. Freddy spread his arms apart and conjured Gore Knuckles. He struck the first guard¡ªthe man¡¯s stone-like skin shattered beneath the impact as the spikes tore into his chest. Freddy threw him aside, slamming him into the wall hard enough to spread cracks around the man¡¯s body, and kept running forward. There was no mercy in his strikes. With every swing, he aimed for where it would hurt the most¡ªand with 1% Lifesteal¡¯s feedback, he knew exactly where that was. He didn¡¯t pause to take care of every guard¡ªthere was a mob of angry warriors marching right behind him to take care of stragglers. Freddy¡¯s job was to keep pushing deeper. The sounds of shouting and blades tearing through armor, flesh, and bone echoed behind him as he broke through, moved past the weaker henchmen, and turned into a hallway with fewer people present. He could tell their two-star gathering apart immediately. Before he could react or dodge, an arrow impacted Freddy¡¯s helmet, leaving deep cracks through it. ¡°Ugh!¡± Freddy groaned as he felt a sharp piece of metal cut the surface of his skin. He saw one of the men put his hands against the floor, and in the next moment, the walls and floor shifted, blocking Freddy¡¯s path forward. Without hesitation, Freddy cast a Flowing Strike and punched the wall. The force of the impact immediately shattered the barricade, creating a space for him to move through. The man who made the barrier looked momentarily surprised, but he immediately regained his composure and cast another ability, this time making the nearby walls form a thick growth of sharp spikes. Freddy raised his leg. Both stars ignited in his soul. Flowing Strike slurped up almost 23% essence. His foot came down. With a deafening shockwave that shook the entire building, the floor was split apart, and the spikes were blown away like sand in the wind. Freddy ran forward immediately, activating Hydraulic Flex with both stars to accelerate toward the men before they could regain their bearing. Suddenly, from behind the cloud of dust, he spotted a bright yellow light. Before he could identify what it was, a small, compressed ball of fire struck him right in the chest. The shock absorption enchantment was instantly drained, protecting most of the trenchcoat from severe damage, but it wasn¡¯t enough to stop all the force, and it did nothing against the heat. Freddy bit down on his tongue as his organs twisted and heat conducted through the trenchcoat and into his armor. Like searing hot brands, any pieces of metal he was wearing burned straight through his protective undergarments, melting into his skin and cooking his flesh. The only reason that burst didn¡¯t instantly cook him alive was because his peak two-star physique resisted the fire essence¡¯s intrusion into his body. ¡°Freddy is injured, over!¡± Lana¡¯s voice sounded from both the comms and right behind Freddy. ¡°I¡¯m all right. Over and out,¡± he said into the comms as he gritted his teeth and cast Hydraulic Flex again. Through the flames and dust, he appeared like a god of destruction. Both stars activated, conjuring a javelin in one hand each. He threw one straight at the fire caster¡¯s head, killing him before he could regain his composure, and the other right at the earth caster¡¯s chest, but the second projectile wasn¡¯t powerful enough to fully pierce the man¡¯s armor and stone skin. But it staggered him long enough for Freddy to kick the man forward with a double-star Flowing Strike. The man¡¯s body flew into the small crowd of archhumans behind him, knocking several people over, and a notable burst of healing moved through Freddy¡¯s body, helping him recover a bit. However, his armor was still red hot, and he was actively burning alive. This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. He cast Create Water over himself, felt the heat recede until he was only just suffering through excruciating agony, and kept going. Most of the people standing before him were two-stars. As such, none of them were pushovers. Anyone who had been knocked over had just as quickly rushed back to their feet, and a man from the back was in the middle of throwing a javelin of stone at Freddy. This time, Freddy redirected the projectile with his vambraces and kept going. His Gore Knuckles were a truly brutal weapon to use against humans. One of the men he threw a punch at tried dodging, only for several of the spikes to get caught on his face and peel a good chunk of his facial skin off. Another of his opponents was a death-affinity arch, and Freddy¡¯s strike, despite slamming directly into the man¡¯s chest, failed to kill him. His screams echoed through the hallways as Freddy repeatedly struck the man¡¯s torso, leaving countless small punctures and mangling him beyond recognition. He did try to end the man¡¯s suffering by aiming for his head, but whatever the man¡¯s talent was, it made his head incredibly hard to break, even for Freddy. This man must have felt invincible. With undeath to keep his body safe and a near-unbreakable noggin, he was a truly tough son of a bitch. Yet now, he stood before Freddy, who mangled his body. The man still pushed through the pain and conjured a mass of miasma around his palm, pushing it towards Freddy, who just barely averted the strike before it could slam into his chest. With an angry shout, Freddy grabbed the top of the man¡¯s head with one hand and pushed his shoulders down with another. Both stars activated with Hydraulix Flex, and with a visceral sound of flesh tearing and bones breaking like twigs, the man¡¯s head was directly torn off his body. The other guards stared blankly for a long moment, their faces turning pale at the sight. ¡°Run!¡± one of them shouted, and the others immediately turned around to escape. Freddy calmly conjured Blood Javelins and threw them at the men, killing a few before they could reach a turn in the hallway. Behind him, Lana finally caught up. She hesitated for a moment at the sight of Freddy throwing the man¡¯s head aside before shouting at him, ¡°Jesus, are you out of your mind!? You should have pulled back immediately to get treated!¡± ¡°Thanks for your concern,¡± Freddy said. ¡°But I¡¯m going to be fine.¡± With that, he rushed forward and chased after the men. ¡°This crazy¡­!¡± Lana shouted in disbelief as she followed him, repeatedly trying to convince him to pull back to get treated. Once she saw him catch up with the men, she quickly found herself at a loss for words. In a panic, the guards locked themselves into a room, sealing the protective metal doors with a layer of thick stone on the other side. A double-star Flowing Strike broke through the makeshift barrier effortlessly, shaking the whole building again and launching the metal door forward. The doors flew like a projectile, turning and hitting one of the men in the spine with a sharp corner, killing him instantly. The remaining guards broke through the back window and started jumping out. Freddy threw Blood Javelins after them as he ran to catch up, killing three before he even arrived. In the end, only two people managed to get out in time before Freddy reached the other three and effortlessly tore them apart. One of the men activated a double-star Tectonic Strike and slammed Freddy¡¯s side with a gauntleted fist. The recharged shock absorption enchantment sucked up most of the force, but the rest wasn¡¯t even enough to make Freddy budge. The next moment, the man¡¯s head had a large dent in it, and his body limply slumped to the ground. As for the two guards that managed to escape, the snipers took them out before they could get far. ¡°Jesus Christ almighty¡­¡± Lara muttered behind him. ¡°What the hell are you made of?¡± ¡°That¡¯s enough chit-chat. There¡¯s more guards to kill,¡± he said dismissively, turning around and running back into the hallway. The rest of Valhalla had already spread through the building, hunting the scattered guards down like animals. There was no mercy for any of them. It didn¡¯t take long to clear the rest of the enemy forces. ¡°We¡¯ve captured the doctor, over and out,¡± the assassin squad said. ¡°Keep him where you found him; we¡¯ll be there soon. Over and out,¡± Thor responded. Freddy finally slumped against a wall, feeling unfathomably exhausted. His body had recovered quite a bit due to all the damage he did, but it was far from perfectly healed. His hands shook profusely from the still-festering burn wounds, and aching exhaustion permeated his bones. Even with his Thousand Wet Hells-tempered body, using a double-star Flowing Strike so many times in a row really took a toll on his body. His joints hurt like a bitch. His fingers felt like all the tissue in them had been turned to mush. His right shoulder, right elbow, and right knee all felt like there were loose pieces of something stuck in there, be it bone or shattered cartilage. The more powerful it became, the more his Flowing Strike was turning into an ability that he simply couldn¡¯t use willy-nilly. The only way he could think to keep up with it was by using another ridiculously dangerous upgrade for Thousand Wet Hells, but even then, it would be a continuous race between the tempering and the escalating backlash. As Lara watched him slump and breathe heavily, she groaned and slowly took her helmet off. ¡°Send the medics to the northwestern corner of the first floor. Over and out,¡± she said into the comms. ¡°Disregard. Over and out,¡± Freddy interjected. ¡°Wha¡­!? What the hell do you think you¡¯re doing?¡± the woman shouted. ¡°First of all, when you got injured, you should have followed protocol and¡ª¡± ¡°Will you please shut the fuck up?¡± he spat angrily. ¡°I know what I¡¯m doing. I have a regeneration talent.¡± She snorted in disbelief. ¡°That¡¯s not the point. With injuries like that, you were not in shape to continue fighting, especially like that. You¡¯re not immortal.¡± ¡°You¡¯d be surprised,¡± he said as he slowly got up to his feet. ¡°Anyway, don¡¯t worry about me. I¡¯m going to be fine.¡± ¡°Thor will hear of this,¡± she said. ¡°If you¡¯re going to fight this way, you won¡¯t have a place with us for long. We don¡¯t need suicidal maniacs.¡± Freddy froze and slowly turned to face her. ¡°With all due respect, this suicidal maniac has managed to survive to the peak of the second star with all his limbs still attached. If you want to continue believing I¡¯m a naive moron while being at the same level of power as I, I see no reason not to return the favor,¡± he spat sharply. ¡°Now, if you¡¯ll excuse me, I¡¯ll go find Thor and see if I can help out with anything else.¡± He didn¡¯t wait for her to respond before pushing past her and making his way to the steps leading down into the basement. While nobody was looking, he took out the spark of undeath and slammed it a few times, healing himself back up to a minimum of natural-quality healing. With that, he could function just fine, even if his joints still felt a bit cranky and the feeling in his fingers was a bit dull. As he walked down into the basement, his steps momentarily paused. He heard the sound of weeping and sobbing. His heart clenched as he mentally prepared himself for what he was about to witness. The room was something straight out of a nightmare. The medic squad silently walked from person to person, providing treatment to anyone who needed it the most. Men. Women. The elderly and the children. All half-naked. All missing right about any part of their bodies that could be taken without outright killing them. From their eyes to massive patches of skin to entire limbs. Numerous scars denoted parts of their bodies where organs had been removed, and the pattern of scars was nearly identical from patient to patient. It was a gruesome, petrifying sight. Whoever had planned this out couldn¡¯t even be called a human being. An intense feeling of sickness flared up in Freddy¡¯s gut, and he subconsciously clenched his fists. ¡°Oh, it¡¯s you,¡± Thor said dryly as he spotted him. The man eyed Freddy¡¯s body. The trenchcoat was mostly fine. The material was very resistant to burning, even if it wasn¡¯t a great insulator towards fire essence. The minor self-repair rune had kept most of the damage away, but there was a small patch where the fabric had been frayed, right where the fireball hit him. Freddy could feel the man¡¯s perception licking across his body and observing the wounds beneath. Thor briefly scowled at what he saw but didn¡¯t say anything about it. ¡°Follow me.¡± He walked past Freddy and up the stairs that took him back to the ground floor. They were followed by Travis and a few other fighters as they slowly made their way up the stairs and to where the doctor was being kept. The man was tied up right in the middle of the hallway, surrounded by the assassins. His face was severely bruised, and he looked like he was missing a few teeth. ¡°Please¡­¡± the doctor muttered. ¡°Don¡¯t kill me! I didn¡¯t have a choice! They threatened my family! I can work for you! I have fifty years of experience! Just spare my life, please!¡± Something about the man¡¯s voice tickled the back of Freddy¡¯s mind. He didn¡¯t recognize the man¡¯s bruised and mangled face, but as he heard the voice, he slowly put the pieces together. This was the lead doctor who had taken Freddy¡¯s commission to heal Sophia. As he realized that, all blood drained from Freddy¡¯s face. If the lead doctor died, it was likely that Freddy would lose his appointment and would have to find another group to handle his request. But the time was running out. The longer he waited, the greater the risk that Sophia wouldn¡¯t fully recover. Thor walked up to the doctor and raised his axe. ¡°We don¡¯t need healers like you.¡± Freddy¡¯s legs moved before he could think, and he leaped right in front of the descending weapon. Chapter 126 - One Scary Motherfucker Thor hadn¡¯t swung his axe with full force, nor was he nearly enough of an amateur to be unable to stop his strike. As Freddy leaped in front of the axe, the weapon stopped dead in its tracks, and Thor¡¯s eyes narrowed as he stared at Freddy. ¡°What are you doing?¡± ¡°Wait a moment! Please don¡¯t kill this man!¡± he said. Thor scowled. ¡°I¡¯m gonna need you to explain yourself.¡± ¡°He¡¯s a lead doctor at a local clinic,¡± Freddy said. ¡°I have an appointment with him for my friend, who will suffer permanent consequences if they don¡¯t get the treatment they need on time!¡± ¡°You don¡¯t need this bastard. We have healers, too,¡± Thor said. ¡°Now step aside so I can chop his head off.¡± Freddy bit his lower lip. ¡°It¡¯s not that simple. But I¡¯d prefer to explain the situation to you in private.¡± ¡°Okay, here you go,¡± Thor said as he waved a hand. An air-affinity spell activated creating a sound barrier with just the two men on the inside. ¡°Speak.¡± ¡°Okay¡­ The friend I¡¯m talking about is undead, and currently, all that¡¯s left of them is their head.¡± Thor¡¯s eyebrows jumped. ¡°Full body reconstruction, huh¡­¡± He scowled. ¡°Yeah, we don¡¯t have anyone who can do that. Shit.¡± Then he sighed as the arm holding the axe slumped. ¡°And that also means he is part of a team that can¡¯t operate without him. And that means that not only can¡¯t we kill him, we also can¡¯t even imprison him. God damn it, dude, are you sure you can¡¯t find another place to have your friend healed?¡± ¡°To be honest, I¡¯m not. But I have no intention to play with my friend¡¯s life.¡± Thor scoffed. ¡°I¡¯ll let him go. But we¡¯re gonna track him down and kill him after he heals your friend. Also, if he gets involved with something like this again in the meantime, it will be your responsibility to take care of it.¡± ¡°I understand,¡± Freddy said. ¡°Do you?¡± Thor asked. ¡°When I say it will be your responsibility, I mean it. If another operation like this appears with this doctor as the lead, it will be your job to take care of it from top to bottom. I get you¡¯re doing this for a friend, but I¡¯m not going to risk the lives of my men for someone I don¡¯t even know.¡± ¡°I understand.¡± ¡°Okay then.¡± Thor lowered the sound barrier. ¡°Let him go,¡± he said. There were a few members who hesitated, but nobody raised their voice in protest. Thor¡¯s word was law. They untied the man, and he frantically sprinted out of the building. Nobody stepped in his way. With that done, a number of Valhalla non-combatants rushed into the building. From taking care of the victims to looting the corpses of the guards to slowly disassembling the equipment used, they made sure that everything was wrapped up. While that was being handled, Thor disappeared somewhere, and Freddy found a secluded corner to heal up a bit more and to meditate some of the reflux essence out of his body. He also wiped the blood off his armor and trenchcoat. It seemed like the clean-up would take a while, though. He stepped out to join the others on guard duty, but he was intercepted by Lana. ¡°Nuh-uh,¡± she said. ¡°You go rest.¡± Freddy scowled. He had indeed drained much of his essence, but he was in good enough shape to fight in case of a sudden attack. But, before he could say anything, the woman suddenly sighed. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± she said. ¡°I was being a bit harsh on you. I talked to Thor, and he told me what happened at the dungeon the other day. It¡¯s clear that you¡¯re more than capable of fighting the way you did tonight. In my defense, that asshole said nothing about it to the others, and¡ª¡± ¡°I get it,¡± Freddy said. ¡°You were just following protocol. I should have informed everyone about what I could handle. I had plenty of opportunity to do that, even though you guys repeatedly told me that I¡¯d have to pull back in case I got injured. The word ¡®injured¡¯ means something very different in my vocabulary. This is entirely my fault. I apologise.¡± Lana chuckled awkwardly at that. ¡°Apology accepted.¡± She offered him a handshake. ¡°Thank you. Also, you were very badass out there,¡± he complimented. ¡°And you were very brutal,¡± she said in a tone that didn¡¯t sound like a compliment. ¡°While the guards don¡¯t deserve mercy, that doesn¡¯t mean you¡¯re justified in using any means against them. Those spiky knuckles are needlessly cruel and inefficient weapons against human beings. For your own sake, I recommend you look for an alternative. At least when fighting against other humans.¡± Freddy winced. She was right, and he knew it. He had never quite gone all out against humans like that before. He still vividly remembered the sensation of his spiked fists tearing flesh apart. But he didn¡¯t hate that feeling. Perhaps it was because of the increased response from his talent. Or maybe he was just a fucked up piece of shit. At any rate, he didn¡¯t plan to change the way he fought. Gore Knuckles was a great way to get the most use out of his talent. ¡°I¡¯ll keep that in mind,¡± he said noncommittally. ¡°Still, I¡¯d like to go on guard duty.¡± ¡°There¡¯s no need for that, really,¡± she said. ¡°You¡¯ve done enough. Besides, it''s highly unlikely anyone will strike at this point. You can always join if things get desperate, but it would be better if you took a moment to rest and recover.¡± He paused for a moment and nodded. ¡°Okay.¡± Lana walked away, leaving him in silence. He really was feeling okay, and it would take a very long time to recover more essence than he already did. Thus, rather than sit down somewhere and meditate, he took a walk around the building while waiting for everything to be finished. He explored the remaining upper floors, where some of the workers were gathering, and eventually found himself at the rooftop. It was a snowy, overcast night. The lights of the city scattered into the clouds above, giving them an orange tint. Snowflakes fell past his face, carried on the light gust of chilling wind. As soon as he stepped out, he spotted another person sitting on the other end of the rooftop. It was Thor. The man was sitting on the parapet, his legs dangling off the side of the building as he smoked a cigarette. He took a deep pull of smoke. With a flick, the ashes scattered, mingling with the flakes of snow to dance in the gale. ¡°Yo,¡± the man said without turning around. ¡°Hey,¡± Freddy greeted as he walked over. He stepped right beside him, leaning over the parapet, and turned to take a look at him. Thor¡¯s eyes were red and teary, and his nose was leaking snot. He had clearly cried just a moment ago. Freddy didn¡¯t comment on it. ¡°Do you smoke?¡± Thor asked. ¡°Sure,¡± Freddy said as he accepted a cigarette. Thor helped him light it with a small spark of lightning right between his thumb and index finger.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Freddy turned around and leaned against the wall, turning his back on the city as he pulled a puff of smoke. ¡°Some evil ass shit, huh?¡± Thor snorted. ¡°You¡¯d be surprised at how much worse it gets.¡± ¡°I probably wouldn¡¯t, to be honest,¡± he said as he flicked the ashes to the ground. ¡°You aren¡¯t a simple guy, are you?¡± Thor noted. ¡°You know, I¡¯m not sure what to think of you. One moment I¡¯m almost willing to believe you¡¯re a selfless hero, and the other I have people telling me you tore a dude¡¯s head off.¡± Freddy couldn¡¯t restrain a laugh. ¡°That¡¯s funny to you? Man, you¡¯re fucked up.¡± ¡°Yeah, yeah. I know,¡± he said. ¡°Call it a defense mechanism.¡± ¡°Eh, I¡¯ve seen worse ways of coping. Just don¡¯t start tearing off the wrong heads and you¡¯re fine in my books.¡± The two men sat in silence for a moment. ¡°I have a question for you,¡± Freddy said. ¡°Shoot.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve done some research when I first arrived here, and I have a pretty good picture of the local situation. But I haven¡¯t been able to determine which of the local factions does what kind of dirty work. I¡¯m guessing you¡¯d know.¡± ¡°Oh, I know all too well. But you haven¡¯t been here for long, no? How did you do your research? Just for the record, the local information vendors are all a total scam.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t go to vendors,¡± Freddy said. ¡°I bought the last ten years of local newspapers and read through them.¡± Thor chuckled. ¡°That is the most biased source of information you could have possibly picked.¡± ¡°Yeah. I know. But when you find out who they¡¯re biased against and towards, you can infer a lot by reading between the lines.¡± Thor raised an eyebrow. ¡°You know¡­ Yeah, you got all of them¡ªwait, that¡¯s actually so clever, what the fuck? You¡¯re a smart dude. Not even I would think of that.¡± ¡°Really? I thought it was pretty obvious.¡± ¡°Yeah¡­ I guess¡­ But I¡¯ve been conditioned to never trust the news, so I wouldn¡¯t think to do that. Anyway, who do you want to know about first?¡± ¡°What about Gem & Faller?¡± ¡°Man, fuck those guys,¡± Thor said as he spat off the building. ¡°Out of all the local factions, I dislike them the most.¡± ¡°Why?¡± ¡°Because they don¡¯t really break the law. Well they do, but most of it is indirect. They tend to push people to the edge by getting them into such deep debt that they have no choice but to resort to illegal activity to pay back their debts. Their victims are their most loyal henchmen. And the fuck am I supposed to do about that?¡± He snorted. ¡°Anyway, who else do you need info on?¡± ¡°What about the Lapis Clan?¡± ¡°Drugs.¡± ¡°Yeah, I had a hunch.¡± ¡°Really? Just from reading the newspaper?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°How did you figure it out?¡± ¡°The newspapers they own had the highest number of articles talking about busted drug trades.¡± ¡°That¡­¡± Thor paused. ¡°God¡­ You¡­ Oh my god. That¡¯s so fucking smart. They have to deflect blame the most out of anyone, so of course they¡¯d¡­ Motherfucker, you should join the intel department! Your talents are wasted here!¡± Freddy chuckled. ¡°I don¡¯t know, man, this doesn¡¯t seem very high level to me.¡± ¡°Hell no, dude. It might seem obvious to you, but that¡¯s because you¡¯re smart. My dumb ass would never think of that shit even with a sword to my neck.¡± ¡°Come on, man, stop it with the ass-kissing.¡± Thor laughed. ¡°Okay, who¡¯s next?¡± ¡°Hmmm¡­ What about the Umbra Clan?¡± The Umbra Clan was the only other local clan other than Lapis. They were mostly dark-affinity users, even going as far as to reject the unholy affinity for most members and almost exclusively look for dark-manipulation talents. The main reason for this is that they have a few secret techniques that take really high-level manipulation to develop. ¡°Oh, this should be obvious,¡± Thor smirked. ¡°Come on, you can figure it out.¡± ¡°Assassinations?¡± ¡°Ding ding ding, bingo!¡± He pointed finger guns at Freddy. ¡°They kill people, as is probably obvious at a glance. I mean they don¡¯t even keep it a secret. Frankly, I don¡¯t think they¡¯re that bad. Sure, they might take a few immoral contracts here and there, but for the most part, they¡¯re not the worst.¡± ¡°Really?¡± ¡°Yeah, yeah, I¡¯ve¡­ Honestly, I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever had problems with them. They never came after my people, and I know for a fact that others have put a huge fucking bounty on my head. That being said, they¡¯re not¡­ clean. I mean, they fucking kill people. Although they technically forbid their members from going after non-targets, it''s not rare for one of their disciples to go loose and attack random delvers in the local interspace. Just be careful if you encounter them.¡± ¡°Damn. Okay, what about Grand West Enterprises?¡± Freddy asked. Grand West Enterprises, or GWE for short, mostly dealt with real estate and agriculture. They were also close allies with Strata, the culprits behind the organ trade they busted today, and Freddy already had a hunch about what type of stuff they dealt in. ¡°Oh, they¡¯re fucking terrible. Human trafficking and slavery, mostly. The people we found here today had definitely been shipped here after they stopped being productive enough. We¡¯re actually looking into a site we found where we suspect they¡¯re keeping slaves for a farm.¡± ¡°That only leaves Strata,¡± Freddy noted with a sour look. Thor tensed up and then slowly sighed. ¡°You saw it for yourself. Not much left for me to add.¡± He put the cigarette to his lips, inhaled deeply until the whole thing was burnt to the butt, and then flicked it off the building. ¡°Any more questions?¡± ¡°What about you?¡± Freddy asked. ¡°Me?¡± The man grinned. ¡°You want to know what kind of dirty work I¡¯m into?¡± Freddy chuckled. ¡°Thor. Is that your given name?¡± The man snorted. ¡°Of course it isn¡¯t. I changed it when I turned eighteen.¡± ¡°Really? What were you called before that?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± he said. ¡°You forgot your given name?¡± ¡°You¡¯d be surprised how much a man can forget when he gets hit on the head enough times.¡± He grinned. ¡°And that was fifty years ago already. I think¡­ I think it was some lame-ass shit like ¡®Bartholomew¡¯ or something, but I can¡¯t remember exactly.¡± ¡°Why did you change it?¡± ¡°Because it was lame,¡± the man said as if it were obvious. ¡°I got into fighting people pretty early in my life. Fuck, you think someone is gonna run away when they hear ¡®Bartholomew¡¯? Oh no, run, Bartholomew is coming, aaah! Nah. I wanted a strong name. A name people will run away from.¡± ¡°To be honest with you, I think picking Thor is kind of silly.¡± ¡°It is, isn¡¯t it?¡± He giggled. ¡°But I like that. It¡¯s a crazy name. Thor. Like, who the fuck changes their name to Thor? That¡¯s a crazy thing to do. And the crazy ones are the scariest to deal with. People like you, Freddy. People who use Gore Knuckles on humans and tear people¡¯s heads off.¡± The man pulled out another cigarette from the box and lit it. ¡°You, my friend,¡± he said as he put a hand on Freddy¡¯s shoulder. ¡°You are one scary motherfucker.¡± *** The night wrapped up soon after. Once everything was done, they tallied their spoils and split the profit. If he was being honest, Freddy was quite disappointed by the sum he received. It was over a million dollars, but for such a dangerous undertaking, that really wasn¡¯t much money. He went home with many thoughts running through his head. And as he went to sleep, he put on a headgear alarm to wake him up in six hours. When he woke up the next morning, he started off his first day with a brand new, incredibly strict schedule. Given how far his abilities were lagging behind his physical power, he focused almost all his efforts on them for the time being. But their growth was truly pathetic. He could speed up the growth of offensive abilities by using them in dangerous situations, but the only way to speed up the growth of his tempering techniques was by using ability-growth treasures to help him out. Those were expensive, however. Really expensive. As he made some quick calculations, he quickly reached the conclusion that, even if he went on raids every single week, he still wouldn¡¯t have enough money to support the cost of elixirs. He was already at the peak of the second star. To push his tempering techniques past their bottlenecks, he needed some of the fancy shit. And fancy elixirs went from anywhere between 200,000 to half a million dollars per bottle. That wasn¡¯t something he could afford to use several times every day. It was no wonder it took people forever to get to the third star. As for Freddy, he didn¡¯t want to wait forever. His thoughts rushed to the conversation he had with Thor. He remembered all the nasty stuff the local factions did. Those bastards¡­ they definitely had a lot of money. He thought of their scions. People like Jason and Shawn Gem. Those fuckers enjoyed a life of luxury and privilege. And it all came from exploitation. His mind rushed to the image of Jason Gem, dead and beaten, with a glimmering ring of gold on his finger. He hadn¡¯t taken it back then to leave as few tracks as possible. But this time, he¡¯d make his target completely disappear. Chapter 127 - A Step too Far Bad things had no tendency to happen in any real pattern. Be it tragedy or mere inconvenience, nothing prevented life from randomly beating the shit out of someone in quick succession. This had birthed a saying a long time ago. ¡°When it rains, it pours, huh?¡± Shawn thought out loud as he sighed. He was sitting at a small cafe close to the only passage in Repentawa and sipping on a coffee. Last night, their spies had finally confirmed that the man who went by ¡°Slave¡± in the dungeon had officially joined Valhalla as a full-blown member. He still remembered his run-in with the guy, back at the dungeon. Insane physical striking power combined with the apparent ability to not only endure extreme stress to his body but also the power to rapidly recover from severe backlash. A true dark star had appeared. And it had joined the side of the enemy. Truly¡ªwhen it rained, it poured. Indeed, bad things had no tendency to appear in any order. But when they happened so closely together, it was inevitable to suspect that they might be connected somehow. His brother¡¯s death and the man¡¯s sudden appearance had happened a mere two days apart. They didn¡¯t have to be connected, of course. But they could be. This didn¡¯t necessarily mean that the man was directly responsible for his brother¡¯s death. In Shawn¡¯s opinion, the odds of that were incredibly low. But for some reason, his intuition kept telling him that there absolutely had to be something tying the two together. As for what it was, he would find out in due time. Once finished with the coffee, he got up and headed into a delve. As far as easy ways to get money were concerned, the fortress dungeon was truly an excellent location. He didn¡¯t always qualify for a weapon drop, but a massive bag of silver coins was still very much worth the effort. Besides, it only took six hours, and the realm was rich with ether, making it a solid place for gathering. His steps took him through the bustling streets. It was a cold morning, with light snow trickling from above. The market right outside the passage was as busy as ever, with shouting matches between sellers and buyers, piles of monster corpses sitting out in the open, and a number of injured waiting for their turn with the healers. With so much stuff happening around him, he completely failed to notice the armored man who was following closely behind him. *** Freddy had subdued his star completely, making himself blend right into the mass of people. Well, as much as a massive, armored man wearing the world''s edgiest trenchcoat could fit in, at least. But anyone below halfway up the second star had no chance of telling his exact gathering without a special method. And the person he followed appeared to not even notice he was there. Around fifty meters ahead of him walked Shawn Gem¡ªthe brother of Jason Gem. He was wearing full dark leather armor with a reinforced and inscribed helmet, as well as a regular enchanted vest. Both the enchantments were protecting weak points. Shawn Gem was a scion of Gem & Faller. From what Thor had told him last night, Freddy knew that they were among the worst when it came to exploitation. For this man to be so far into the second star, there was no way he had done so without participating in his ¡°family business.¡± And indeed, from what Freddy knew of the man in the few articles he had seen about him, the man was considered an important figure in his family. Freddy¡¯s fists clenched as he remembered last night¡¯s events. Nobody in this city was in the business of kidnapping people randomly off the streets. That happened very rarely, and it was one of the few things that the adjudicators of the Northern Belt stepped in to deal with. But those people who had been damaged past the point of ever being capable of living a normal life again had made it into the clutches of Strata somehow. Freddy remembered Lucas¡¯s situation. His mother had racked up an insane debt they couldn¡¯t even dream of paying. Had Freddy not stepped in, it was very likely that either Lucas or his mother would have been among those people found in that basement. And the bastard in front of him was in the business of pushing people into such situations. With a deep breath, he calmed himself and refocused. If his emotions got out of hand, his aura would leak. Shawn stepped into the passage. After waiting a bit to ensure that nobody realized he was following the man, Freddy followed. It very quickly became obvious where the man was going. The path to the Fortress Dungeon wasn¡¯t long. Freddy only had a brief window of opportunity to act. He made sure to take a good look around himself. There were plenty of people in the first realm. But from what he could tell, nobody was going the same way as Shawn. As soon as he saw Shawn step into the second passage, Freddy moved a bit away from the people and called his companion¡¯s name. ¡°Bloodshed.¡± The skeleton had already been informed of what it had to do. Without a word, it sank into the Netherecho and ran forward. Freddy kept following Shawn. ¡°I have checked your surroundings, Master,¡° Bloodshed said. ¡°There is nobody following you. There is also currently nobody on the path towards the Fortress other than that man.¡± ¡°Good.¡± Freddy¡¯s steps hastened, and he slowly started catching up with the man. He entered the second passage and spotted him. There was nothing but a short stretch of wasteland between them. The borders of the realm they were in could be seen in the distance, with not a single soul present and without a single person coming their way. In that brief moment, the two of them were alone. At this point, he was no longer hiding his aura, and the man noticed him immediately. Shawn turned around. The man looked apprehensive momentarily, but then Freddy raised an arm to wave and broke into a quick jog. ¡°Hey!¡± he called the man. Shawn eased his guard slightly. ¡°Hello!¡± he greeted back. ¡°You¡¯re that guy I met in the fortress last week!¡± ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s me!¡± Freddy said as he slowed down and stopped right next to the man. ¡°You¡¯re headed for the Fortress Dungeon, right?¡± The man nodded. ¡°Mind if I come along?¡± ¡°Sure, not a problem¡­¡± the man said with a hint of reluctance and a dash of curiosity. ¡°By the way, I forgot to thank you last time,¡± Freddy said. ¡°Without your Unholy Blessing, things could have gone very badly. Also, I don¡¯t think I introduced myself.¡± He stretched out his hand. ¡°My name is Freddy.¡± ¡°Nice to meet you, Freddy,¡± Shawn said with an awkward chuckle as he accepted the handshake. ¡°I¡¯m Shawn.¡± ¡°Well, Shawn, It was nice knowing you.¡± Suddenly, both the stars in Freddy¡¯s soul ignited, clenching Shawn¡¯s hand in a Hydraulic Flex-powered vice grip that crushed bone. The man groaned through gritted teeth and tried pulling back, but it was too late. Holding the man¡¯s arm with his right hand, he pulled him in as his second hand clenched into a fist. Gore Knuckles grew out and flew forward with the might of a double-star Flowing Strike. Shawn quickly reacted and conjured a cushion of darkness, but while it did absorb a good deal of energy and slightly disrupted the timing of Flowing Strike, Freddy¡¯s blow couldn¡¯t be stopped; the spikes tore through the shield and hit the man¡¯s helmet. The enchantment activated, just barely blocking the rest of the force. The blow pushed Shawn¡¯s head back as the Gore Knuckles broke apart, crumbling into small bits. The man shouted, but before he could reorient himself, Freddy conjured a javelin of blood and, with a Hydraulic Flex, stabbed right into the helmet. The enchantment was empty. There was no shield to block the strike. With a loud sound of metal colliding, the point of Freddy¡¯s javelin sank into the helmet right through the visor, pushing into the man¡¯s brain and killing him instantly.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. ¡°People are headed this way, Master,¡± Bloodshed said. ¡°Hurry.¡± ¡°All right. You can return now, I need your help.¡± Freddy quickly lifted the man¡¯s body and folded it over. A moment later, the man disappeared, tucked tightly into Freddy¡¯s storage ring. The size of a cubic meter was deceptively massive. Freddy could probably fit several whole bodies in there without much of an issue. With a clinking sound, the man¡¯s storage ring fell to the ground. A storage item couldn¡¯t be stored inside another storage item, thus it had simply remained behind when the body vanished. With a swift hand, Freddy picked it up and pulled out a small box. He had bought that box just a bit earlier. It was made of essence-insulating metal. Just in case that this ring could be tracked somehow, he decided to put it in this box, which would cut off the essence and prevent tracking. After stashing the box in his pocket, he raised his hand and activated Blood Absorption. He quickly collected all of the man¡¯s blood to eliminate the evidence, and a moment later, Bloodshed arrived. With its help, he also collected any of the remaining fragments of Gore Knuckles. Just as the spirit returned to his soul, a small group of delvers entered the realm from the other side. Acting as if absolutely nothing had happened, Freddy walked right past them and went into the realm where the Fortress Dungeon was waiting. No witnesses. No evidence. All he needed now was an alibi. Within minutes, he was at the Fortress Dungeon. People spotted him there. Once they finished waiting for the dungeon to open, they went inside. Freddy participated in the dungeon just like anyone else. He practiced his throwing skills and racked up his contribution. It didn¡¯t take long to bring Blood Javelin to the peak of stage 0 and get it ready for an upgrade. As for the concept he would use, he needed to find a vestige of aerodynamics. This would make the javelins ignore most of the air resistance. This was the best choice for the first upgrade. Due to the low mass of the projectiles, they lacked impact strength and suffered from energy loss due to air resistance. Not only did they quickly lose energy, but their trajectory was also affected by wind. After the upgrade, both effects would be reduced to a minimum. For the rest of the dungeon run, he mostly focused on developing Accelerate Blood Projectile. He didn¡¯t need javelins for this one¡ªany blood projectile would do. Thus, he resorted to making small pebble-sized chunks of blood and throwing them for practice. Accelerate Blood Projectile was more difficult to develop than Blood Javelin but much easier than Hydraulic Throw. Freddy had also already been working on it for a while. Thus, it came as no surprise that he finally managed to complete both the concepts and crystallize the shell. The way the ability worked was quite simple. He imbued a chunk of hardened blood with blood essence, then consumed that essence instantly to accelerate the projectile. There was no need to determine direction or anything¡ªthe projectile would simply go faster in the same direction it was already going. The trickiest part with Accelerate Blood Projectile was timing. As soon as the blood left his touch, manipulating it became much, much harder. Thus, he had to use the ability while he was still touching the projectile. Even after finishing Hydraulic Flex, he would need to practice to seamlessly unite the two abilities. Speaking of Hydraulic Flex, he was still stuck. ¡°Precise direction¡± was a pretty damn tough concept to practice. No matter how much he practiced, he didn¡¯t feel himself getting any closer to finishing the shell. If anything, he almost felt like he was getting worse at aiming the harder he tried. It was becoming clear that he¡¯d need something to help push him to the finish line. This time around, the dungeon run went without a problem. Without any deviants messing thigns up, the fortress could endure quite a bit of damage, and with only twenty minutes on the clock, the run ended way before the army could break through. Freddy wasn¡¯t at the top of the list this time¡ªhe had been preoccupied with abilities, putting him rather low on the list at the seventh place. As his reward, he got a rather hefty bag of silver coins. On his way back, he walked side by side with a few of the others who had also participated. The bank had an outpost right outside the passage, allowing Freddy to directly deposit the coins as money. It earned him a bit over 60,000 dollars¡ªa rather respectable sum given the effort involved. Then, without further ado, he headed home. ¡°Hey Freddy, do you have a¡ª¡± Lucas called as soon as Freddy stepped inside, but¡ª ¡°We¡¯ll talk later; I¡¯m busy,¡± he said as he rushed into his room and locked the door behind him. He focused for a while and managed to extract only the man¡¯s body. Plus the javelin that was still stuck in the man¡¯s eye. The reason why he kept the equipment inside his storage ring was simple¡ªjust in case it could be tracked somehow. As long as it didn¡¯t leave the ring, it was in a completely different dimension. That left him with only a bloody, naked corpse. Lying stiffly right in the middle of his bedroom. He stared at it for a long moment and then chuckled. ¡°Wow. Why am I laughing?¡± He brought a shaky hand to his forehead. ¡°This is fucked up.¡± He felt his legs weaken as he walked over and sat on his bed. He felt strange. Something was deeply wrong. ¡°This is some real serial killer shit,¡± he said as his voice shivered. No. This wasn¡¯t just ¡°some real serial killer shit¡±. He had planned, stalked, and killed. This was premeditated murder¡ªplain and simple. His target was someone who deserved it. That was what he thought going into this. But now that he glanced at the corpse on the ground, he wasn¡¯t so certain. The man¡¯s hand was bloody and mangled, and the javelin was still stuck in his eye. An expression of horror and disbelief was frozen on the man¡¯s face. The man had died before he could even defend himself. In more ways than one. Faced with the reality of what he¡¯d done on that day, he was stunned, frozen in place. His entire body was numb. His fingers trembled. His throat tightened. This man hadn¡¯t been a good person. But for some reason, Freddy couldn¡¯t shake off the intense feeling of guilt. This was far from his first time taking a life. But never before had he done something like this. These weren¡¯t the actions of a hero. Nor a vigilante. Hell, his main motivation wasn¡¯t even to slay an evildoer¡ªit was to loot said evildoer''s corpse. Take Shawn¡¯s identity out of the equation, and what was left? Nothing but the actions of a criminal. A psychopath. What was done was done. He shouldn¡¯t have done this. Not this way. But he couldn¡¯t undo it now. With a vow to never do something like this again, and a knot in his throat, he got up. The first thing he did was absorb all the blood in the man¡¯s body. Absorb Blood was thorough¡ªnot a single blood cell remained on his carpet or inside the man¡¯s body. Then, he used the spark of undeath to eat the corpse, leaving nothing behind. With that done, he took a small red badge out of the storage ring. This was a cheap single-use concealment badge. Upon activation, it cut off all free energy flow in a radius of one meter for roughly ten seconds. Its main use usually was to help people hide if something was trying to sniff them out. Given that it only had a single use and that it lasted such a short time, it could hardly be called a proper life-saving item, but it would do just fine for Freddy¡¯s purpose. He pulled out the box containing Shawn¡¯s ring from his pocket and placed it on the floor right beside the badge. He also pulled out a large cloth grocery bag. After taking a deep breath, he activated the badge and immediately opened the box, quickly pulling all the items from Shawn¡¯s ring and putting them into the bag. Then, before the ten seconds ran out, he put the ring back into the box and stored Shawn¡¯s items into his own storage ring. The badge finally cracked, and he slumped, finally allowing himself to relax slightly. Putting thoughts of what he did aside, he took a peek into his storage ring and looked at his haul. *** Thor sat in his office in Valhalla, typing away on a typewriter. The communication crystal on the table beside him suddenly lit up, and the voice of one of his men came through. He got some interesting news. It appeared that Shawn Gem had gone missing. His family had already launched an investigation into it. Thor groaned. This could be horrible news. Jason Gem had died recently. His death, at least on the surface, appeared to be a freak accident involving a spirit attack. But if this was a second death in their family, the Gems would no doubt turn the whole city upside down to find answers. As with anything bad that ever happened to them, they¡¯d point fingers at Valhalla first. He could already see the headlines. A creeping headache started setting in. They really didn¡¯t need this shit¡ªnot now, not ever. ¡°I¡¯m gonna pin this shit on Umbra,¡± he muttered to himself. ¡°It was probably them anyway.¡± He returned to what he was doing. Once he finished, he stretched a bit and got up to fetch himself a coffee. A strange anxiety filled him. He couldn¡¯t help but feel that something bad would happen. He was probably just being paranoid, but before heading to get his coffee, he stepped into the neighboring room just to make sure. In a small room hidden in the corner of his office, there was a large crystal screen. Many of his members didn¡¯t know about this, but the equipment Thor gave them had a tracking rune hidden on it. It was incredibly basic, and the information it tracked was elementary. He could only really track two things¡ªwhether the user had killed something or¡­ if they had died. He had a habit of coming to this room. He often got a ¡°bad feeling¡± that turned out to just be paranoia due to all the damn stress and anxiety he was under all the time. The main flaw with this system was that it didn¡¯t work while people were in the interspace. Anything that happened inside a passage realm would only update when the item returned to New Earth, and even then, there was a distance limit of only around fifty kilometers. This was a common limitation with methods like these. It was certainly slightly obsessive-compulsive on his part. Even if something bad did happen, it wasn¡¯t certain whether he¡¯d even know. Still, a habit was a habit. Better this than, like, drugs. Anyway. Thor slowly made his way through the list of items. Whenever he selected an item, he would get a short list and the current status of the equipment¡¯s owner. The list contained information on the targets that the user had killed most recently. It was incredibly rudimentary, only showing the approximate gathering and the affinities of the creatures that were killed. He wasn¡¯t really paying much attention to the list¡ªhe only checked whether the people were alive. But as he reached the trenchcoat he had given Freddy Cliff, he found himself pausing. The man had killed a huge number of targets in relatively quick succession. Thor scrolled up for a moment. ¡°Oh, a dungeon run.¡± But before he left and checked the next item, he spotted something that caught his eye, all the way at the beginning of that day¡¯s list. 140-150% gathering, dark, unholy. Killed at 10:42 a.m. The exact gathering and affinities of Shawn Gem, at nearly the exact time the man was rumored to have gone missing. ¡°Holy fucking shit¡­ That¡­ That¡¯s not good at all.¡± Chapter 128 - Second Chance As Freddy combed through all of Shawn¡¯s stuff for a long moment, he almost felt like throwing all his moral values away. Not only was the ring quite spacious, making it already rather valuable even on its own, but it was packed with all sorts of goodies. From essence-recovery medicine to ability-growth elixirs to a decent number of primes that actually seemed to hold a good amount of value, it was every looter¡¯s wet dream. The whole value of everything inside the ring, including the ring itself, almost certainly surpassed twenty, if not thirty million dollars. As for the essence-recovery stuff, he decided to keep that for himself. But the ability-growth stuff would have to be traded somehow. For ability-growth elixirs, there were three different grades. First-grade ability-growth elixir had no affinity. It could be used equally with all affinities. That being said, it only had an effect during stage 0. Second-grade ability-growth elixir was affinity-specific. It worked for stage 1 abilities. And finally, there was the third-grade stuff. This was the most powerful and the most valuable form of ability-growth elixir. But it was also the most restrictive. It could promote the growth of abilities up to around stage 2¡ª50%, and it was not only tied to an affinity but it was also tied to a micro-concept. If the ability didn¡¯t have the related micro-concept, the elixir would be useless. While this was the last official grade of ability-growth elixir, it wasn¡¯t actually the most powerful. But everything that had power beyond this level had erratic requirements and extremely variable effects, making it impossible to fit into a clearly defined box. Such items were simply referred to as superior ability-growth treasure and were usually¡ªand kind of arbitrarily¡ªranked on a scale from F- to S-grade. With these types of treasures, there was another catch¡ªusing them negatively affected latent aura accumulation. But this could hardly even be called a downside. Losing a bit of latent aura in the short term meant nothing when better abilities meant you could earn even more latent aura. That being said, extreme abuse of such elixirs was a bad idea¡ªnot just because of the latent aura cost but also because it had a chance of messing with the microconcepts of the ability in question. As for the stuff in Shawn¡¯s ring, it was all second-grade stuff¡ªand mainly of the dark affinity, except for a single vial of unholy-affinity elixir. He¡¯d have to trade this for something usable. And given that Shawn was dead, he¡¯d have to be really careful where he sold this stuff. He¡¯d probably have to trade it with Valhalla. With that out of the way, he moved on to the primes. While they were predominantly rather basic, they were by no means bad. One of them, in particular, caught Freddy¡¯s eye. ¡°Hello there, little man,¡± the prime called in a strange accent. ¡°You better run, but you might not escape. It is very uncertain.¡± ¡°What talent do you hold?¡± ¡°If you so choose to accept me into your soul, you will become quite fast. Certainly faster than someone who didn¡¯t accept me into their soul. If that someone also doesn¡¯t have a power that makes them very fast. Or maybe if they do but it isn¡¯t¡ª¡± ¡°I get it,¡± Freddy cut it off. ¡°What about your affinities?¡± ¡°Earth and Water.¡± Freddy¡¯s eyebrows jumped at that. Toughness of earth. Striking power and flexibility of water. And a talent that affected speed. He cupped his mouth in contemplation. With water and earth, the best choice would be to hope for a metal affinity at the second star. The metal, earth, water combo was pretty much the best combination of affinities for a defensive fighter. But the talent was related to speed. It would definitely be better if the talent affected striking power or defense, but this wasn¡¯t a bad match, either. Speed, power, and defense. This had everything needed to make a well-rounded fighter without any glaring weaknesses. Many people were afraid of common talents. Who wanted to be common? But this by no means meant that common talents were bad. There were whole factions that only used common talents. Besides, given enough latent aura, even common talents could flourish and evolve into something unique and spectacular. His thoughts immediately went to Lucas. Freddy would much rather give the man a trusty talent like this than some niche bullshit that only turned out to be useless. Also, with such an incredibly generic affinity-talent combo, nobody could tie Lucas to this exact prime. ¡°Oh, yeah, didn¡¯t he need something from me?¡± Freddy asked as he slowly got up. Before going to see Lucas, he took a shower first. He felt too filthy not to. In more ways than one. He put on regular clothing and draped the trenchcoat over it. It provided good protection even on its own while looking like a rather ordinary piece of clothing. With that, he left the room. He found the young man sitting on the couch and twiddling his thumbs. He noticed Freddy enter and quickly turned around, nearly jumping out of his seat. ¡°Hey¡­¡± he called meekly. ¡°Are you still busy?¡± ¡°No, I got time. Sorry about that, by the way¡­¡± Freddy said, scratching the back of his neck. ¡°I had something to confirm.¡± ¡°No problem, just¡­ Yeah, I¡­ I have to tell you something.¡± Freddy turned serious. ¡°Something wrong?¡± He approached the man and sat on the couch next to him. ¡°No¡­ Maybe,¡± the young man said nervously. ¡°Just uhm¡­ Remember what we talked about yesterday?¡± ¡°Your date?¡± ¡°No¡­ About my mom.¡± ¡°Yeah. Did something happen to her?¡± ¡°She¡­ I didn¡¯t tell you this, but¡­ For a week already, she¡¯s been going out by herself, and I¡¯m¡ª¡± Freddy groaned. ¡°She¡¯s fucking gambling, isn¡¯t she?¡± Lucas tensed. ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t know if she is, but¡­¡± ¡°Oh, God fucking damn it,¡± Freddy croaked and pinched the bridge of his nose. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell me this before?¡± ¡°She told me I can trust her,¡± Lucas said with a whimper in his voice. ¡°And I really thought I could, but I¡¯ve noticed that she¡¯s giving me guilty looks, and even now¡­¡± He looked like he was about to start crying. ¡°Are you going to kick us out?¡± ¡°No¡­ I won¡¯t. Don¡¯t worry.¡± Freddy slumped and patted Lucas¡¯s shoulder. ¡°When is she coming back?¡± ¡°She should be back soon.¡± ¡°Okay. When she comes back, we¡¯ll confront her together.¡± Lucas bit his lower lip and nodded. The two of them waited, and half an hour later, Hellen returned. She smiled at them at first but paused at the looks they were giving her. ¡°Hey¡­¡± she said. ¡°Did something happen?¡± ¡°Mom¡­¡± Lucas called. ¡°Hello there, Mrs. Black,¡± Freddy said as he got off the couch. ¡°We haven¡¯t talked in a while.¡± ¡°Yes¡­ Hello.¡± She nervously grabbed her purse. ¡°Is everything all right?¡± ¡°Everything is great!¡± Freddy said cheerfully. ¡°In fact, Lucas and I have some news for you!¡± ¡°We do?¡± Lucas asked confusedly. ¡°We sure do, my man!¡± Freddy said with a wide grin as he pulled the prime out of his storage ring and threw it at Lucas. Lucas caught it and stared at it. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ It¡¯s a¡­¡± He clenched the prime in his hands as his eyes flashed wide open. Hellen put her hands to her mouth and rushed to sit beside her son. ¡°Oh my god! Oh my god, oh my god! Honey, I¡¯m so glad!¡± She hugged her son, weeping tears of joy. Then she turned to face Freddy. ¡°I have no idea how we¡¯ll ever repay this.¡± ¡°Oh, I have an idea!¡± Freddy said with a raised finger as his voice darkened. ¡°Maybe when you finally hit it big, you can just give me the money back!¡± He finished the sentence almost growling. All the light escaped the woman¡¯s face as she heard those words. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ I¡­ That¡¯s not very funny, Mr. Cliff.¡± ¡°Really? I think it¡¯s fucking hilarious!¡± he said and laughed loudly. Lucas looked at him strangely, almost fearfully. Freddy caught himself. He saw the mother-son duo looking at him with fear in their eyes and felt himself deflate suddenly. He coughed. ¡°Sorry about that. This should have been a happy moment.¡± He looked down and grabbed a tuft of hair above his forehead. ¡°Fuck me, man. Look, I¡­ Your son is worried about you,¡± he said. Lucas suddenly nodded. ¡°Mom¡­ Be honest with me. Have you been going to the casino?¡± ¡°I¡­ No, honey, please. I did go hang out with my friends, but¡­¡± She forced a smile. ¡°Don¡¯t lie to me.¡± She deflated. ¡°A bit. For fun.¡± The disappointment and shame in Lucas¡¯s eyes was painful to look at. He averted his gaze and blew air through pursed lips. He forced himself to calm down, then turned to face Freddy. ¡°You said I could choose my prime. What happened to that?¡±Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. ¡°If you don¡¯t want that one, we can go and trade it. But I strongly urge you to just take it. It¡¯s a good one.¡± Lucas nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll trust you then. Also¡­ is that other thing you mentioned still on the table?¡± Freddy wondered for a second what Lucas was talking about. Then, he remembered. He slowly nodded in approval. Lucas nodded back and turned to look at his mother. ¡°I want you to get help.¡± ¡°But for what?¡± she urged, laughing nervously. ¡°Honey, it¡¯s really not that serious. I¡¯m fine.¡± He raised a hand to interrupt her. ¡°We¡¯ve had this conversation¡­ so many times, Mom, I¡¯m sick of it,¡± he said firmly. ¡°I¡¯m so sick of it. And I can tell that you don¡¯t see it, but you¡¯re incapable of quitting. But you don¡¯t need this. We don¡¯t need this.¡± Like a fish on dry land, she kept opening and closing her mouth, looking like she was repeatedly trying to say something but always failing to find the words. ¡°I know you¡¯ve always wanted the best for us, Mom,¡± Lucas said with a shivering voice. ¡°But now let me do it,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯ll work hard. I¡¯ll become strong.¡± He lifted the prime in one hand and waved it. ¡°We¡¯ve already made it big.¡± A tear rolled down his cheek. ¡°So please just stop¡­ Please.¡± She stared at him for a long moment. The smile she kept trying to force finally crumbled, and she broke down into tears. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯m so sorry,¡± she sobbed, pulling him into a tight hug. Freddy let them cry it out a bit. But internally, he was scoffing. To him, this scene wasn¡¯t touching in the slightest. If anything, the sight of it made him feel sick. He had seen an almost word-for-word interaction between two of his parents¡¯ friends once; it was just between husband and wife. Not even a week later, he gambled away everything they had. Tearful apologies like these were never the end of it. As soon as the mood changed, people ran right back into old habits. He could almost see the picture of himself crying in that shitty hotel, deeply regretting everything he did and yet there he was; same as always¡ªworse than ever. Although he didn¡¯t know whether it would actually save her, he had promised Lucas to get his mother some help. It was time to fulfill that promise. ¡°I¡¯m sure you guys would like to celebrate tonight. But before that, I¡¯d like to take you somewhere.¡± *** Without a car, Freddy was forced to walk all the way out of town to get to Valhalla¡¯s headquarters. He stayed quiet about where he was taking them, even though they asked him a number of times. Lucas¡¯s mother needed professional help. But Freddy would be damned if he took her to any place owned by Strata. Thankfully, Valhalla had its own mental health professionals. They were allowed through the gate and were promptly invited inside. Lucas and Hellen stared with eyes as wide as saucers, filled with shock and awe. They had no idea Freddy was connected to Valhalla. As they finally put the pieces together, Hellen looked stricken. She slowly shifted to Freddy and tugged on his shirt. ¡°Mr. Cliff¡­ Aren¡¯t these those¡­¡±¡ªshe gulped¡ª¡±those terrorists?¡± Freddy laughed. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, lady, these are the nicest terrorists in town!¡± She looked like she was about to faint. ¡°Oh¡­ I see¡­¡± As soon as they entered, Freddy stumbled upon Travis, who asked about the two newcomers. Freddy explained the situation, and the man nodded. Travis escorted them to the mental health professional¡¯s office. Hellen was still shaken by the fact that they were inside Valhalla¡¯s headquarters, while Lucas looked on with an awe-struck expression. ¡°Here it is,¡± Travis said as he pointed to a door. ¡°I¡¯m gonna go now. If you boys want, join me in the mess hall. We¡¯ll have a few drinks.¡± ¡°Sure thing, man,¡± Freddy said as he offered Travis a fist bump. Then, as Travis walked away, Freddy turned to face Hellen. ¡°I can¡¯t force you to enter,¡± he said. ¡°Everything after this point is up to you.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not sure about this¡­¡± she said. ¡°Mom,¡± Lucas called, grabbing her arm. ¡°Please. Just have a talk. That¡¯s all I¡¯m asking from you.¡± She slowly nodded. ¡°Oh, god. I can¡¯t believe I¡¯m doing this.¡± She smiled at Lucas. ¡°I love you.¡± ¡°Love you too, mom.¡± She took a deep breath and, with great reluctance, pushed the door open and introduced herself. The doors closed, cutting the sound off. Just like that, Lucas and Freddy were left by themselves. ¡°Man¡­ this place is so cool!¡± Lucas said, admiring the wooden interior of Valhalla¡¯s hallways. ¡°Yeah, I gotta admit, they do have a sense for aesthetics.¡± ¡°Oh, thank fucking god you¡¯re here,¡± a sudden voice came from down the hallway. A frenzied Thor jogged over to the two of them and rushed up to Freddy. ¡°Just come with me.¡± He briefly looked at Lucas. ¡°Uh¡­ I don¡¯t know you.¡± ¡°Uh¡­ hi,¡± Lucas responded with confusion. ¡°I¡¯m Lucas.¡± ¡°Thor, nice to meet you, kid.¡± Lucas froze. ¡°You¡¯re¡­¡± ¡°Never mind that,¡± Thor said, turning back to face Freddy. ¡°Your friend can wait for you here somewhere; you absolutely have to come with me.¡± Freddy nodded severely. He left Lucas and followed after Thor. They walked into Thor¡¯s office. It was neatly decorated, without any distractions, in the same rustic style as most of the rest of the building. The man didn¡¯t even wait to sit down before turning to face Freddy. ¡°You killed Shawn Gem today. How the fuck did that happen and also please tell me nobody saw you,¡± he blurted out. Freddy scowled. ¡°How do you¡­?¡± His gaze darkened as he realized it. ¡°The fucking coat,¡± he spat. ¡°I trusted you when you gave me that.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not a spy tool,¡± the man rushed to justify himself. ¡°It just has a safety feature that happened to give me a hint about what happened.¡± Freddy snorted. ¡°Would have been nice of you to give me a heads up about that ¡®safety feature¡¯.¡± ¡°You can be mad at me about the coat later. Shawn. Tell me what happened.¡± Freddy sighed and walked over to the chair. He sat down while Thor leaned against the work desk. For a long moment, Freddy wasn¡¯t sure what to say. He hadn¡¯t been planning to keep it a secret from Valhalla. If he wanted to trade the elixir, he needed to be honest about the source. However, he had been planning to say exactly how it happened. He¡¯d bullshit them a bit. Or, that was the plan. But for some reason, he didn¡¯t feel like it. Fuck it, he thought. He would tell the man the truth. Thus, with a sardonic smirk, he turned to face Thor. ¡°I followed him into the passage and killed him while nobody was looking. I did it as cleanly as possible, leaving no evidence behind, including keeping tracking methods from giving me away.¡± Thor scowled. ¡°You just¡­ What? Why did you do that?¡± Freddy shrugged. ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t I do it? He¡¯s a piece of shit, just like all of them. Rather kill him before he stands in our way during a raid one day.¡± The man looked at Freddy in disbelief for a long moment before snorting and shaking his head. ¡°Well¡­ At least you played it safe, I suppose. But uh¡­ You do understand what you did, right?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± Freddy said. ¡°Do you really?¡± Thor asked with squinted eyes. ¡°Of course I fucking do,¡± Freddy spat, his lips curling into a frown as he looked away in shame. He pinched the bridge of his nose and then buried his face in his hands, rubbing it aggressively. ¡°I¡¯ve never done anything like this before,¡± he muttered through his palms. Then, he dropped his hands, revealing a face morphed into a self-ridiculing blend of nihilistic amusement and remorse. ¡°And I still can¡¯t believe I did that.¡± ¡°Do you feel guilty?¡± ¡°What do you think?¡± ¡°I think you don¡¯t,¡± Thor said coldly. A scowl flashed on Freddy¡¯s forehead. ¡°You¡¯re wrong.¡± ¡°Am I really?¡± Thor said as he chuckled. ¡°And what if I told you Valhalla punishes actions like these with ten years of imprisonment?¡± Freddy''s body tensed, his eyes opened slightly, and his jaw clenched. ¡°There it is,¡± Thor said as he pressed a finger to Freddy¡¯s forehead. ¡°There¡¯s what?¡± ¡°The proof.¡± ¡°So¡­ What is it then? Are you calling me a psychopath?¡± ¡°Hey, I¡¯m not the one who told you to go murder someone!¡± Thor said. ¡°But no, I¡¯m not calling you a psychopath. You¡¯re a narcissist.¡± Freddy scoffed. ¡°Call me whatever you want.¡± ¡°You know, your appearance and gathering don¡¯t fool me, Fred,¡± Thor said. ¡°You¡¯re no older than 25.¡± ¡°I never claimed I was.¡± ¡°You¡¯ve fooled the others. But that¡¯s not the point.¡± Thor sighed as he got on one knee and looked up at Freddy. ¡°You¡¯re young. Hotblooded. There is no passion in the world stronger than that of young people against injustice¡ªreally, I¡¯ve never seen anything that even slightly compares to it. But it easily misguides people. It turns their hearts dark and minds rotten. Look what you¡¯ve done today¡­ are those the actions of someone who fights for justice?¡± Freddy looked away. ¡°Look at me. You¡¯re dehumanizing your enemies. In your eyes, they¡¯re just¡­ monsters. And if they¡¯re just monsters, you can do anything to them. Because they deserve it. But that¡¯s just not right.¡± ¡°Is it!?¡± Freddy shouted. ¡°You saw the same thing. You¡¯ve probably seen way worse!¡± Freddy rushed to his feet and slammed a fist into the desk. ¡°How can you even claim that they¡¯re anything but monsters!? How!? These fucking¡­¡±¡ªhe gestured like he was trying to choke someone¡ª¡±demons! Why should we ever give them any more kindness than they¡¯re willing to give others!? ¡°You know what, you¡¯re fucking right; I don¡¯t feel guilty! Why would I!? That motherfucker has spent his whole life treating people like animals! According to what bullshit reason does he possibly deserve to be treated any better!?¡± Thor remained calm as he slowly got up to his feet. ¡°I used to think the exact same thing,¡± he said. ¡°But¡­¡± He sighed and walked over to his chair, sitting down and staring wistfully into the wall as if his gaze reached all the way to the distant horizon. ¡°Shawn was born in a family of scumbags. From a young age, he was desensitized to all of it.¡± ¡°Ah, that excuse.¡± Freddy smiled darkly. ¡°My favorite.¡± ¡°Hear me out, okay?¡± Thor asked nicely. ¡°Anyway¡­ He is someone who never learned a different way of life. Before killing him, did you ask him to change his ways?¡± ¡°Change his ways?¡± Freddy asked with a disbelieving chuckle. ¡°Are you fucking kidding me? You¡¯d what, just forgive him? Let bygones be bygones?¡± ¡°Freddy¡­ When you paint people as monsters and give them absolutely no way out¡­ they become monsters. When they know they can not and never will be forgiven, they won¡¯t ask or work for forgiveness. They¡¯ll double down. And in Shawn¡¯s case¡­ You know, just a degree of separation is all it takes for people to excuse¡­ anything, really. The man worked in management. Sure, he got hands-on here and there, but in his eyes, he was just getting back the money they were owed.¡± ¡°You know damn well that¡¯s not just what he¡¯d been doing!¡± ¡°I know that damn well. He on the other hand¡­¡± ¡°Oh, come on! That¡¯s idiotic!¡± ¡°Is it? And what about you?¡± ¡°Me!? What did I do?¡± ¡°You bought that treatment from Strata. That money is gonna fund more exploitation. And you even forced me to let that doctor go. Are you then guilty of exploiting people?¡± Freddy scowled. ¡°That¡¯s different.¡± ¡°It really feels different, doesn¡¯t it? It¡¯s not like you had a choice after all. Your friend¡¯s life was at stake. That was the only right thing to do. But according to you, if you¡¯re born and grow up in a family of shitstains, and you learn to love those people from a young age, learning everything you know of the world from them, never even being given a chance to fix your ways, that¡¯s a sin worthy of death. No judge, no jury¡ªstraight to the executioner.¡± Freddy simply stared blankly as his shoulders slowly drooped. ¡°Look,¡± Thor continued. ¡°I¡¯m not saying Shawn was a dumbass who didn¡¯t know what he was doing. And I¡¯m not even saying that killing him was the wrong thing to do. But for your own sake, more than his¡­ you could have asked. You could have confronted him and challenged his beliefs. Put his ass on the spot. Is he aware of what he¡¯s doing? Is he aware that he can stop? That he can be a better person? ¡°But we don¡¯t need to complicate things. Just tell me, how do you feel? Do you feel like you did the right thing? No need to muddy the waters with reasoning and logic, just listen to what your moral compass is telling you. How do you feel?¡± Freddy averted his gaze agian. Thor snorted and shook his head. ¡°You feel like shit. It¡¯s as simple as that. You feel like absolute shit. And you wanna know why? Because you did something shitty. And that moral compass, the thing we all have somewhere in us, it¡¯s screaming at you. It¡¯s letting you know that you shouldn¡¯t have done that. I urge you to listen to it.¡± Thor got off the chair and walked up to Freddy. ¡°You¡¯ve stained yourself today. This stain can only fade; it will never fully wash off. I¡¯m not really clean, either. I¡¯ve regretted my fair share of decisions. Hell, if I had run into someone like you after some of these, I wouldn¡¯t have lived until today. But hey, look at me now,¡± he said as he spread his arms wide. ¡°I¡¯m not a villain, am I?¡± ¡°I¡­ I guess not¡­¡± Thor smiled. ¡°You got the man¡¯s ring, no? Let me see what he dropped.¡± Freddy burst into laughter as he looked at Thor with disbelief. ¡°Okay, damn! That was a quick pivot!¡± Thor chuckled. ¡°Eh, come on, we¡¯ve said what needs to be said, no?¡± Freddy¡¯s laughter slowly died down. Then, he suddenly broke into tears. Uncontrollable sobbing overtook him. Thor patted his shoulder. ¡°I¡¯m not gonna tell you it¡¯s okay. I¡¯m not going to lie to you,¡± he said. Freddy nodded. ¡°Okay. I get it.¡± He wiped his tears with his sleeve. ¡°Good. Now come along. I¡¯m sure you¡¯d like to get rid of the stuff you picked up.¡± Chapter 129 - Ride and Grind Thor escorted Freddy over to their treasury, where Shawn¡¯s personal belongings were finally exchanged. The treasury was a sealed space that prevented outside tracking, meaning that they could take anything out without having to fear revealing themselves. As for Shawn¡¯s gear, all the enchantments had to be removed. It was impossible to just remove the tracking runes and keep everything else¡ªan item¡¯s enchantment was a gestalt, unified ether construct. It could only be removed all at once. Naturally, this severely degraded the worth of the man¡¯s gear. Its value was further hurt by the need to cosmetically alter the pieces to prevent someone from noticing the armor. But the man had still been strapped with some quality stuff, most of it undamaged. As for everything else, Freddy traded most of the stuff in the ring. He only kept the ring itself and the prime vestiges. There was a reason why many people carried loads of primes in their rings¡ªthey were among the most compact methods to store value. If Freddy ever needed to vanish again, he¡¯d rather do so with a collection of primes that he could sell for starter capital. As for the elixir, Freddy traded all of it for a single large vial of second-grade water-affinity elixir. With the help of his unique ring, he could relatively easily push through bottlenecks in his blood abilities. But his water abilities were another story. More precisely¡ªThousand Wet Hells. That was his most powerful and most difficult-to-grow ability, and it wasn¡¯t even close. It was also seemingly stuck, with him struggling to push it forward, which was a likely indication it was reaching a severe bottleneck. There were many other things Shawn had in his storage ring, and as for those, Freddy didn¡¯t really need most of them. They were mostly basic essence-recovery and healing medicines. With those, Freddy decided to outright sell them. He also ended up selling that katar he earned as his reward for the Fortress Dungeon run. Even if he wanted to use such a weapon, he¡¯d make it out of his own blood. That being said, its price thoroughly shocked Freddy¡ªThor offered almost half a million dollars for it. For a long moment, Freddy pondered whether he should take out some of the other stuff in his ring to trade it, too. There was the cursed clothing that could be used to create a cursed item. But, he ultimately decided against selling that. He wanted to have it turned into a cursed item at some point, but that would no doubt cost a good sum of cash, and he wasn¡¯t in dire need of cursed armor at the moment, given that he had the trenchcoat. Other than that, there were some of the last few things remaining from Janhalar¡¯s ring. The vials of blood were something he could possibly absorb to see if it had any beneficial effect, but the other two items were a complete mystery. There was the glass vial with the two small shimmering beads and the chunk of dried flesh sealed inside a box. While he wasn¡¯t necessarily unwilling to risk consuming these items, he feared that that would simply be a waste. They were no doubt incredibly valuable. While he wasn¡¯t that wary of Thor, he still didn¡¯t fully trust the man. The tracking implanted on his coat was still fresh in his mind. While relatively minor, that had been a violation of trust. It would take a while for him to get over that. And with that, they were done with the trading for the day. But Thor had another idea. ¡°You know, I¡¯ve noticed you don¡¯t have a vehicle or even a contact crystal. As for the contact crystal, I¡¯d be willing to give you one for free so I can reach you more easily. But if you¡¯re interested in a vehicle, I¡¯ve got some stuff I¡¯m willing to sell.¡± The man grinned. ¡°Wanna check it out?¡± Freddy chuckled. ¡°Yes for the crystal. Not so sure about the vehicle, though. I don¡¯t have a garage.¡± ¡°That doesn¡¯t have to be a problem,¡± Thor said with a splitting grin. ¡°Come¡ªlet me show you something.¡± Freddy raised an eyebrow and followed after the man. They slowly made their way down into the basement of their headquarters, where they stepped into a massive garage. There were all sorts of vehicles there, from old-fashioned carriages to, surprisingly, more modern stuff. Thor walked right past all of that until he reached a small room. There, he picked up a cube of black metal and took it out, placing it on the garage floor and showing it to Freddy. It was around sixty centimeters wide. The cubic object looked like rather advanced etherology, with numerous lines crossing through it, with what looked like tubes and gears covering most of the surface. ¡°What is this?¡± Freddy asked, feeling rather confused. ¡°You¡¯re about to witness something incredible.¡± Thor bent down and touched what looked like a large button. He pressed it down, and immediately, the seams running through the box lit up with the pale light of pure essence. To Freddy¡¯s utter amazement, the box slowly unraveled, taking the form of a motorcycle. It was sleek black in design, with large headlights and huge wheels. Its seat was quite large, too, allowing two people to sit on it without a problem¡ªthree if they really squeezed in. Thor laughed loudly and sat down on it. ¡°What do you think? Pretty damn cool, eh?¡± ¡°Cool does not do it justice, man¡­¡± Freddy muttered in a daze. He bent over to touch the metal surface, feeling the cool metal on his fingertips. It was electric. He had always been a fan of Old Earth technology, and even etherology in general. Now that he faced something he could have only dreamed of seeing not even two years ago, he was blown away. For a long moment, he felt like a child again, simply admiring something he thought was pretty badass. But that fascination rapidly deflated, however. ¡°This has to be incredibly expensive.¡± ¡°It is,¡± Thor said with a sigh. ¡°Brand new, this baby costs seventy million dollars. Due to the cost of import into the Northern Belt, you can easily slap another ten mil on that.¡± Freddy flinched. ¡°I can¡¯t afford that kind of price. ¡°Now, no need to be hasty,¡± Thor said playfully. ¡°I would have been surprised to hear that you can afford it just like that. I have an alternative offer for you if you¡¯re interested.¡± ¡°What¡¯s the offer?¡± ¡°You can rent it from me for a million dollars a month until you save the money to buy it off. I won¡¯t be an asshole; any money you pay for the rent will be knocked off the final price. How¡¯s that sound?¡± That wasn¡¯t that bad. However, Freddy wasn¡¯t sure whether it was worth it. A million dollars a month was a lot of money. He could spend that money on resources instead. Not to mention the cost of fuel or possible maintenance. ¡°Oh, I should also probably mention that this baby has a one-star tzenekite core in both wheels. The cores can also save up to 50% essence if you want to really step on it.¡± Freddy¡¯s eyes widened slightly. That was the equivalent of two one-star satellites worth of tzenekite. With that, it could produce 2% essence every second, which should be more than enough to drive without worrying about fuel. He could tell that he was grasping for justification to buy it. But he did really need a mode of transport other than walking and taking the bus. On top of the reasonable payment plan and the ability to store the vehicle in his storage ring, he could feel his self-control rapidly evaporating as he finally gave in. ¡°Sure. I¡¯m in,¡± he said. And he was grinning from ear to ear. ¡°Glad to do business with you, lad,¡± Thor said as he got off the bike and pressed a button. The vehicle compressed into a cube again. Thor looked at it thoughtfully. ¡°Can you fit this in your ring?¡± ¡°Just barely,¡± Freddy bullshitted. In reality, while it took up the lion¡¯s share of room in Janhalar¡¯s ring, there was more than enough space to fit it right beside everything else. He picked up the cube, which was quite heavy, and stored it away. Thor nodded at him. ¡°Guess I¡¯ll see you later then. I¡¯ve got work to do, so we¡¯ll catch up another day. Also, before you leave, I have a warning for you.¡± ¡°Hmm?¡± ¡°Even if there¡¯s no evidence directly tying you to Shawn¡¯s death, the Gems might still try to target you.¡± ¡°What? On what basis would they do that?¡± ¡°What basis do they need? That old piece of shit Caleb has lost two kids in a short period. He¡¯ll act against anyone he even vaguely suspects to have been responsible for their deaths. If for no reason other than to just vent his anger.¡± Freddy winced as he realized that that might mean that Valhalla would also be targeted. ¡°Sorry about that. My actions were thoughtless.¡± ¡°What¡¯s done is done. I¡¯m just warning you to remain cautious.¡±Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about that. I always keep my guard up. But thanks for the warning, man.¡± Freddy offered Thor a fist bump. ¡°And thanks for the bike. And for the talk; just¡­ thank you.¡± ¡°You¡¯re welcome.¡± Thor bumped his fist. ¡°See you later.¡± Freddy nodded. ¡°See you later.¡± Then, he walked away, heading off to find Lucas and Hellen. Once he picked them up, they had a beer with Travis. Travis, Freddy, and Lucas talked a bit while Lucas¡¯s mother sat silently beside them. Whatever she had talked about with the therapist, it had clearly left a rather major impact on her. They didn¡¯t bother her or ask any unnecessary questions. Before long, they were heading home. ¡°What the hell is that?¡± Lucas asked as Freddy pulled the metal cube from his storage ring. Freddy grinned widely at him. ¡°You¡¯re about to find out.¡± *** Thor watched Freddy walk away. He sighed. ¡°Fooled the others, my ass¡­¡± Thor had been completely mistaken about Freddy¡¯s age. It was hard to tell the age of an archhuman based on their appearance alone, but gathering was considered a pretty reliable age indicator, at least for the minimum age of the person in question. Only absolute monsters reached the peak of the second star before they turned thirty. It was important to keep in mind that most folks stalled at the first star to gather up every bit of latent aura they could. Evolving a talent was essential for continuing to grow. But not only had Freddy reached his current level at insane speed, he also didn¡¯t seem weak for his gathering. Not at all. Coupled with the man¡¯s bizarre self-recovery, Thor was forced to recognize Freddy as an elite among elites. But he was still a young man. It was clear as day that Freddy hadn¡¯t yet learned how to cope with the darker aspects of life. In that sense, he desperately needed guidance before he strayed too far off the right path. Thor decided to be there for him. This was someone who he desperately wanted to keep on his side. His fists clenched as he remembered his deal with the adjudicator. The scar on his soul ached. Perhaps Freddy might be capable of bringing some real change to the Northern Belt. *** Lucas screamed as Freddy stepped on the pedal, speeding up even more. His mother was also screaming, but she seemed to be enjoying herself. It didn¡¯t take them long to reach the building, where Freddy folded the bike and stored it away. ¡°I¡¯m never doing that again¡­¡± Lucas muttered as he struggled to remain standing on his shaky legs. ¡°Come on, don¡¯t be a killjoy,¡± his mother said as he tapped him on his back. ¡°When did I raise you to be such a coward?¡± ¡°Mom!¡± he shouted. Hellen chuckled, and even Freddy laughed along as he prodded Lucas. They went back to the apartment, had dinner, and then, finally, right before their eyes, they watched Lucas accept the prime into his soul. His mother cried and hugged him tightly while Freddy looked on with a smile. Absorbing a prime vestige was quite exhausting. Before long, Lucas was feeling too tired to remain awake. He excused himself and went to sleep. Freddy and Hellen were left together in an awkward silence. Finding nothing to talk to the woman about, Freddy was about to excuse himself, but Hellen suddenly spoke. ¡°I¡¯ve been a terrible mother, haven¡¯t I?¡± Freddy paused. ¡°Would you prefer me to spare your feelings, or do you want me to be honest?¡± She chuckled darkly. ¡°I have a feeling I already know what you¡¯ll say.¡± Freddy opened his mouth but then closed it as he slowly nodded. Then, he got up and turned to leave. But three steps in, he stopped and turned around. ¡°You haven¡¯t done anything unforgivable,¡± he said. He wanted to add something else to that, but he came up short. ¡°Good night,¡± he said as he finally walked away. ¡°Good night.¡± *** The next day, Freddy had a shopping trip to take care of. He purchased a number of books he thought were essential for any beginner archhuman and gave them to Lucas. He tasked the boy with reading, practicing using his essence, and trying to develop a few abilities on his own. Then, without further ado, he went to Valhalla¡¯s headquarters. There, he was given access to a training room. It was just a sealed room with metal walls and durable practice targets. There was nothing fancy about it, no gathering arrays or combat puppets. But it was all he needed. There, for the next two weeks, he focused almost entirely on his abilities. Sip by sip, he consumed the water-affinity elixir and, percent by percent, found himself breaking past the Thousand Wet Hells bottleneck. He had finally managed to last through a full run of Thousand Wet Hells. From 199% essence to 0% essence in one run. This was an incredibly dangerous thing to attempt for anyone who wasn¡¯t Freddy. But even he was left literally torn apart, with numerous holes scattered through his body and even with a number of broken bones. He had even completely lost feeling in his legs due to a spine injury. But his efforts had been rewarded. Not only had he broken past the bottleneck, but he felt his body reach an entirely new level of durability. Despite his progress with Thousand Wet Hells, he found himself completely stuck with Hydraulic Throw. The ¡°precise direction¡± rune simply refused to form, no matter what he tried to do. He was nowhere close to giving up, but he was starting to feel seriously frustrated with his lack of progress. His other abilities were also continuing to develop. He upgraded the Blood Javelin to stage 1. Before long, Accelerate Blood Projectile followed. He upgraded it with a vestige of ¡°trajectory.¡± This made it so that the ability not only accelerated projectiles but also helped them resist any external forces trying to change their trajectory. Anything the projectile struck also counted as an external force, meaning that this doubled as an indirect method to enhance the impact power of his javelins. Although that effect was pretty minimal, admittedly. Soon after, he finished Crimson Spring, too, and for the stage 1 upgrade, he ultimately decided to go down the Purifying Crimson Spring route. His Absorb Blood was quite advanced, and it would be a shame not to use this to his advantage. Speaking of Absorb Blood, it also reached stage 1. Freddy upgraded it with the generic concept of blood, which reduced the price from 5% essence per liter to 4% essence per liter and also made both the absorption and conversion of blood slightly faster. His core abilities were also starting to reach a tipping point, but many of them were stuck at bottlenecks. Gore Knuckles got stuck at stage 1¡ª90% progress, but it seemed that the effect of Freddy¡¯s unique ring was enough to help inch it forward to completion, so he kept working on it. But he couldn¡¯t say the same thing for Hydraulic Flex and Flowing Strike. These two were stuck at stage 1¡ª90% and stage 1¡ª95% percent respectively. He was out of elixir, unfortunately, but he didn¡¯t feel he strictly needed it. A bit of action would likely help them along just fine. Another ability that made notable progress was Abyssal Depths, which finally reached stage 1 completion. However, Freddy refused to upgrade it. He was already quite slow, and on top of that, the backlash he was suffering from Flowing Strike was becoming incredible¡ªeven with Thousand Wet Hells helping offset it. It appeared that this was truly going to be a breaking point. Once he upgraded Flowing Strike and Abyssal Depths, he would have to make a choice. Did he want to keep the ability as something he could tolerate using, or did he want to fully convert it into a self-destructive but insanely powerful trump card? He wasn¡¯t sure. Both options had their merit. He needed to thoroughly consider his options and the ramifications of both choices before finalizing his decision. With every day that passed, Freddy cut his sleep time more and more. Eventually, he reduced it to only two hours of sleep. Pushing it any further than that impacted his ability to remain focused. But from what he could tell, he could live just fine on only 2 hours of sleep. Even if waking up felt like he was getting tortured. He got an invitation to another raid, but this one was very minor, with only a handful of guards. They saved a number of slaves that were being used to operate an underground food-processing facility. Thor ended up ¡°selling¡± this location to Grand West Enterprises, which produced most of the food in Repentawa. Those people were undoubtedly the ones behind the operation in the first place, and now, Thor was milking them dry for all the money he could suck away from them while keeping their equipment hostage. No wonder the local powers hated Valhalla so much. After a few more days of work, Freddy finally felt his ability growth slow down. It was time to return to delving and actively using his abilities again. He wrote down his current progress: GATHERING: Second star¡ª199% essence capacity 2-star satellite TALENT: 1% Lifesteal: Dynamic-quality healing SOUL CONSTRUCT: Scythe: Essence Extraction TEMPERING TECHNIQUES: Blood affinity: Lake of Blood: Stage 2¡ª40% Progress Crimson Mercury: Stage 1¡ª70% Progress Purifying Crimson Spring: Stage 1¡ª5% Progress Water affinity: Adaptive Water Body: Stage 1¡ªComplete Thousand Wet Hells: Stage 1¡ª81% Progress Abyssal Depths: Stage 1¡ª99% Progress (Ready to Upgrade) ACTIVE ABILITIES: Blood affinity: Gore Knuckles: Stage 1¡ª90% Progress Blood Javelin: Stage 1¡ª17% Progress Absorb Blood: Stage 1¡ª10% Progress Accelerate Blood Projectile: Stage 1¡ª5% Progress Water affinity: Flowing Strike: Stage 1¡ª95% Progress Hydraulic Flex: Stage 1¡ª90% Progress Create Water: Stage 1¡ª53% Progress Purify: Stage 1¡ª0% Progress Pressure Jet: Unfinished ether shell Hydraulic Throw: Unfinished ether shell Perished water affinity: Perished Water: Stage 0¡ª8% Progress Ghosts of the Drowned: Stage 0¡ª8% Progress SPIRIT ABILITIES: Blood Sacrifice Leviathan¡¯s Fury UNIQUE CURSED ITEMS: Blood Ring: -6% essence cost, +5% power for blood-affinity abilities. Can be used to release Bloodshed. Attacks inflict minor bleeding. He was brimming with strength. He was itching to return to delving as soon as possible. But he had noticed something throughout the previous two weeks. Lucas kept shooting him glances. With every passing day, the boy¡¯s desire to go and do a proper delve grew exponentially. He kept quiet to not bother Freddy, but it was clear as day that he didn¡¯t just want to stay cooped up inside practicing essence manipulation. As Freddy put his gear on and prepared to leave, he spotted Lucas, who was sitting on the couch. The boy noticed that Freddy was in full gear and looked excited momentarily. Then, he calmed himself down and looked back at the book. ¡°I see you¡¯re returning to delving¡­¡± he muttered. Freddy sighed and shook his head. ¡°Want to come with me?¡± Lucas¡¯s eyes shot wide open. ¡°Really!? I mean¡­¡± He deflated a bit. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t it be dangerous?¡± Freddy chuckled. ¡°We¡¯ll go to the Fortress Dungeon. Unless something goes seriously wrong, you¡¯ll be safe there.¡± Freddy wasn¡¯t absolutely confident, but he had a 90% assurance that he could break the portcullis that locked the dungeon down. His Flowing Strike cost nearly 25% essence already. Besides, even if he couldn¡¯t, the odds of encountering serious danger weren¡¯t particularly high. It was also a much better option than taking the young man deeper into the interspace. There was a possibility that someone would attack them there, but he was much less afraid of such an attack while inside the dungeon. ¡°But we¡¯re gonna have to get you some gear first,¡± Freddy said, winking at him. Lucas lit up like a candle. ¡°Okay! Let¡¯s go!¡± Chapter 130 - Freddy’s Luck In a small corner of Valhalla¡¯s armory, a fully armored Freddy waited for Lucas to exit the changing room. The young man left before long. He was wearing relatively light, synthetic, camo-colored armor, with extra focus on forearm, neck, head, and chest protection. And a solid pair of boots, too. While Freddy was absolutely not willing to get the boy tzenekite equipment, he had decided to splurge a little extra on an unimbued inscribed helmet. It held a single major rune of hardness, and once it emptied, it would take eons for it to recharge. Well¡­ that was a bit of an exaggeration, but it would definitely take a few days at least. ¡°How do I look?¡± Lucas asked, shooting Freddy a fat grin through the helmet¡¯s visor. ¡°Lookin¡¯ really out of place,¡± Freddy joked. ¡°Ha, ha.¡± Lucas sighed, pulling on the light armor, which looked a bit oversized. ¡°Are you sure this is the right size?¡± ¡°Hey, it¡¯s better to buy a bit larger now and fill it in than to constantly get it adjusted,¡± Freddy said seriously. ¡°You¡¯ll be training and building muscle, and you might even have a bit of growth left in you. Trust me when I say you should look to keep equipment maintenance to the minimum. That stuff gets pricey, fast.¡± Lucas nodded severely. With the armor out of the way, they had only one thing left to pick up. A weapon. Rather than pay an exorbitant sum for something fancy, Freddy bought the boy a plain, cheap spear. Spears were easy to pick up, making them a great choice for someone who hadn¡¯t yet settled on a weapon. With that out of the way, they left the building. Freddy pulled out the motorcycle and sat down. Riding this thing was ridiculously fun. It produced a loud, high-pitched buzzing sound as it moved, making it stand out and inviting the gazes of onlookers. Lucas was still scared while riding, as evidenced by the fact that he was hugging Freddy like his life depended on it. A quick drive through the city later, they pulled up to the plaza surrounding the passage. Immediately, a large number of people turned to look at them. ¡°Hey, isn¡¯t that Slave?¡± someone asked their friend. ¡°Holy crap, you¡¯re right!¡± ¡°Who is that beside him?¡± ¡°No clue, man. I¡¯ve never seen him.¡± Ever since the Fortress Dungeon run, where he fended off an army by himself, Freddy had become something of a local celebrity. Rumors spread incredibly fast, no doubt originating from the weaker delvers Freddy had saved on that day. They had spread the monicker ¡°Slave,¡± a pseudonym he had used on that run, and that seemed to be the only name people currently knew him by. While Freddy was aware of this, he had been clueless as to just how far these rumors had spread during the last two weeks of seclusion. As he and Lucas made their way down the plaza and towards the passage, the number of people gawking at them numbered in¡­ almost everyone, actually. Lucas looked like he would die of shame, and honestly, Freddy wasn¡¯t much better off. This was admittedly unpleasant. Fame was excellent and all, but standing out so much was something he would rather avoid. Unfortunately, that ship had clearly sailed. Some people even decided to follow them into the passage. This was where Freddy drew a line. ¡°Hey,¡± he called as he turned to face the small crowd behind him. ¡°Unless you just happen to be heading in the same direction, I highly recommend you stop following us.¡± A storm of mumbled apologies came from the group of curious delvers, most of them younger, independent one-stars. They scattered like cockroaches when the couch was lifted, and moments later, Freddy and Lucas were left alone. As soon as they made it through another passage, Freddy called on Bloodshed, releasing it and having it take a look around. It found nobody secretly following them. Good. Before long, they reached the entrance to the Fortress Dungeon. The schedule was predictable and simple to track¡ªevery six hours, one run ended, and another one started. They arrived ten minutes before the start of a run, but the sight that welcomed them left Freddy scowling. There were only a handful of delvers waiting there. Well, there were many weaker folk, but only a few among them were real professionals. Given that Freddy didn¡¯t even recognize anyone and only two of them were two-stars¡ªearly two-stars¡ªat that, it was safe to say that this wasn¡¯t the most powerful group to ever enter this dungeon. And the people there knew it. Seeing the lack of proper powerhouses, the two-stars got up and walked away. Just a single Freddy wasn¡¯t enough to take on the latter waves. Seeing the two-stars get up and leave, the more powerful one-stars quickly followed, and before long, even the weaker delvers were waking up to the fact that this would most likely be an empty run. Freddy was also about to leave, but then he got an idea. It wasn¡¯t really about him today, was it? He turned to face Lucas. He grinned under the helmet. ¡°Hey, buddy¡­¡± he called teasingly. ¡°Looks like we¡¯re going in alone.¡± ¡°What?¡± Lucas asked, clearly bewildered. ¡°What? What!?¡± Each ¡°what¡± was more confused and distressed than the one before it. ¡°No, no, no, you¡¯re kidding! Doesn¡¯t this dungeon take an army of people to beat it!? And you want to go in with just the two of us!? No! Hell no!¡± Freddy chuckled. ¡°Relax, you silly goose. The dungeon operates by sending waves of opponents. All we have to do is tie one of them up at the start, then we can do the first wave with peace of mind. It¡¯s only against mortals. With me to defend you, you have nothing to fear.¡± ¡°Ha¡­ Haha.¡± Lucas chuckled, looking like his face was draining of all color. ¡°I don¡¯t like this.¡± ¡°Well too bad. You gotta get some experience. Come on, we¡¯re not heading back home like losers. Man up.¡± He patted Lucas on the back. The boy swallowed and started walking. ¡°Halt!¡± the guards shouted as they crossed their halberds. ¡°What¡¯s your name, soldier!?¡± ¡°Slave,¡± Freddy said, waving Lucas forward. ¡°Come on, you¡¯re next.¡± Lucas gulped and took a step forward. ¡°Halt!¡± the guards shouted. ¡°I¡¯m Lucas! Lucas Black,¡± the boy said as he lifted his hands to cover his face. ¡°Fight hard, Lucas Black!¡± one of the soldiers said as they uncrossed their weapons and allowed Lucas through. On the other side, Freddy was dying of laughter. ¡°Oh, man! I¡¯ve never seen someone shit themselves at the gate like that!¡±This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. ¡°You¡­!¡± Lucas yelled, his face turning beet red. ¡°Whatever! Let¡¯s just go and kill the¡­ oh, man¡­¡± ¡°Hahaha, relax, we have another half an hour to go. Come on, let me show you around.¡± Freddy took Lucas on a small tour, showing him the towers and the respawning weapon racks. The young man was particularly fascinated by the infinitely respawning weapons. Even Freddy thought those were cool as hell. ¡°Hey, if you don¡¯t want that spear, you can try one of these,¡± Freddy said as he pointed at the rack of weapons. ¡°No¡­ I¡¯ll stick to this for now.¡± ¡°Suit yourself.¡± They climbed up one of the towers. The view was equal parts stunning and intimidating. The dark shadows in the surrounding forest ominously foretold the danger that was to come. Freddy headed downstairs and walked up to the weapon rack. Lucas watched him go with a raised eyebrow. ¡°What are you doing?¡± ¡°I¡¯m gonna collect some ammo,¡± Freddy said. Knowing Freddy¡¯s absolutely horrible luck, something could always go to shit. For him, given how many times he got to learn this lesson, accounting for things going horribly wrong was already becoming a habit. He walked up to the weapon rack and looked it over. The most obvious thing that could go wrong was that he could somehow fail to stop the waves from coming. In that case, the thing he feared the most was siege equipment. For him personally, anything before wave five could hardly threaten him. But Lucas was a different story. Even if he tried to hide, there was always the chance that the siege equipment could endanger him. The choice, then, was obvious¡ªhe would take the catapult boulders. They were made of exceptionally dense stone and just small enough for him to fit eight or nine in his storage ring. Before stashing them away, he decided to cover them with a layer of blood. This wouldn¡¯t really add anything other than the ability to use Accelerate Blood Projectile on them. And even this wasn¡¯t really a huge deal. The main reason why it wasn¡¯t going to make a big difference was the way Accelerate Blood Projectile worked. It cost roughly 0.5% essence per kilogram of blood it accelerated. There was very little blood on these boulders, which meant that the ability wouldn¡¯t really have a tremendous impact. Every bit helped, though. After shuffling his stuff a bit, he managed to fit ten of them into the ring. Even after finishing with that, he proceeded to grab the bags of spiky metal bits and spill them all across the battlements. If someone made it up to the walls, he wanted to make their life as difficult as possible. ¡°What are you doing?¡± Lucas asked while cautiously stepping around the metal bits. ¡°Preparing.¡± ¡°For what?¡± Freddy turned around and chuckled. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it, champ.¡± Lucas groaned. ¡°That does not ease my nerves, Freddy.¡± Freddy simply chuckled in response. If he had more than half an hour, he would have done even more to prepare. But alas. The white-bearded monk guy appeared. ¡°Attention, defenders! We are under attack!¡± ¡°Follow me,¡± Freddy said as he carefully walked over to the closest tower. They hid inside and waited for a while. ¡°I will drink from your skull!¡± someone shouted. ¡°Keep no prisoners!¡± ¡°Their bones will decorate my armor!¡± Lucas shivered as he heard the voices. ¡°Holy crap¡­¡± he muttered, clearly panicking. Freddy put a hand on his shoulder. ¡°Relax. They aren¡¯t so bad. You¡¯ll see.¡± ¡°Pike their heads!¡± Lucas whimpered. ¡°Not so sure about that.¡± The sound of a metal hook latching onto the nearby parapet made Lucas nearly jump out of his skin as he screamed. ¡°I hear them! The enemy is hiding in the tower!¡± ¡°What is this? Hahahaha, is there just a little girl defending the fort!?¡± ¡°The kingdom has already fallen!¡± Lucas grabbed Freddy¡¯s arm. ¡°Can I go back home?¡± A moment later, one of the men¡ªa barely-clothed barbarian hauling a rusty axe¡ªclimbed up the rope and made it onto the battlements. He turned to face them. A wicked grin split his face apart as he raised his axe and rushed at them. Freddy simply stepped forward, slapped the axe out of the way, and punched the guy. The punch really didn¡¯t seem all that impressive, but the man¡¯s eyes glazed over as if a brick had fallen off the top of a building and struck his head. Ignoring the man as he dropped to the ground, Freddy grabbed the hook the man used to climb up the wall and pulled the length of rope up. One of the attackers had been in the middle of trying to climb it, but Freddy simply kicked him off. Then he tied the other man up and left him in a corner of the tower where nothing could hurt him. ¡°There we go,¡± he said as he picked Lucas up. ¡°Whoa!¡± the boy yelped. ¡°What are you¡­ oh no¡ª¡± his words were cut off by an involuntary scream as Freddy proceeded to jump off the battlements and down into a small crowd of men. ¡°So you cowards come out to face us! Meet your¡ª¡± The man¡¯s words were cut short as Freddy kicked him in the stomach. The attacker spat out a large, bloody chunk of something that looked important and promptly died. Freddy put Lucas down. Lucas held his spear with shaky hands. His knees looked like they would buckle at any moment. ¡°You¡¯re gonna have to calm down, Lucas,¡± Freddy said as he kicked another man away and slapped the ghost out of a third. Before long, nothing but a pile of dead bodies was left. There were plenty of men coming from literally everywhere around them, though. A few of the bastards standing at range used slingshots to throw rocks at them. The rocks bounced off of them, but even though they couldn¡¯t hurt them through the armor, Lucas still acted like every rock that hit him was a damn ballista bolt, yelping and shouting in imaginary pain. Lucas had decided to step on the path of fighting to survive. Freddy had no intention of coddling him. This lifestyle was dangerous. Getting hurt or even dying wasn¡¯t a rare occurrence. He needed to learn that this wasn¡¯t a game, and he needed to learn that lesson as quickly as possible. Freddy kept Lucas safe for the most part, but every so often, he¡¯d disarm one of the men and send them to the boy. At first, Lucas could barely even stand his ground. More than once, an opponent wrestled his spear away, forcing Freddy to step in and help. But as this kept happening, Lucas gradually calmed down. With Freddy there, the actual danger was minimal. And the young man was starting to realize this. Surprisingly quickly, actually. Before long, Lucas started fighting back. Ineffectually at first, likely as he still struggled to see his enemies as just monsters created by the dungeon rather than real people. Any time he successfully injured an opponent, for a moment, he¡¯d look like he was about to apologize, but that reflex slowly started to fade. In the face of endless taunting and aggression, nobody would remain apologetic for long. Freddy grabbed one of the men by his arm, pulling the sharp stick out of his grip, and then pushed him over to Lucas. The attacker immediately lunged at Lucas with the intent to steal his spear, but the boy pulled it back. No matter how the man tried, he simply couldn¡¯t get a hold of Lucas¡¯s weapon. Lucas was fast. Really fast. The effect of his talent was super obvious. He pulled his spear back and then, in the flash of an eye, thrust it forward, poking his opponent in the rib and pulling the weapon back before he could react. This was the advantage a talent provided. This was why they mattered so much. They didn¡¯t require endless practice to acquire and utilize¡ªthey simply made a difference. To Freddy¡¯s surprise¡ªno, to his genuine shock¡ªLucas really wasn¡¯t a terrible fighter. The boy had a knack for it. He was a bit too defensive and clearly thought too much about when he should strike, but that would go away with experience. For the time being, he was doing great. He was more talented than Freddy was when he started; that much was certain. As yet another surprise, Lucas revealed that he could already manipulate essence well enough to simulate a primitive Tectonic Strike with raw manipulation. Then, with a loud shout, he thrust his spear right into the man¡¯s eye, finally killing one of his opponents. Lucas was clearly disturbed by the sight, but Freddy didn¡¯t give him the time to process it. Seeing the boy¡¯s performance, Freddy finally let someone with a weapon through. The man carried a simple wooden stick, but even that put Lucas on edge. However, it wasn¡¯t enough to completely discourage him. Having already defeated an opponent, there was a clear shift in Lucas¡¯s body language. If I stab hard enough, you¡¯ll die, his body said as he gripped the spear shaft and leaned forward, getting into a crude stance. Just like this, the fight proceeded smoothly. They kept going for a while, until Freddy saw Lucas reach complete exhaustion. Then, without further ado, he killed the remaining men off. As soon as he finished the last opponent off, Freddy could immediately tell that something was wrong. A rumbling came from the distance. ¡°Son of a fucking bitch!¡± he shouted. ¡°Why didn¡¯t I leave another one alive!?¡± ¡°What?¡± Lucas asked as he took an anxious step back. ¡°What¡¯s happening?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± Freddy said. ¡°I¡¯m just a dumbass. We¡¯re gonna have to clear another wave.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll what!?¡± Lucas shouted. ¡°I¡¯ll take care of this one. I don¡¯t expect you to get involved.¡± Freddy picked Lucas up and, with a double-star Hydraulic Flex, jumped back up to the battlements. He walked into the nearest tower and quickly glanced at the invader he had previously taken prisoner. His best guess was that the man had died from something like a brain bleed because Freddy punched him too hard. But as he took a closer look, he noticed something disturbing. There was a faint red line around the man¡¯s neck. Someone had strangled him. Chapter 131 - Cornered Atop the tower, Freddy swung a large ballista bolt around, pushing off a number of men who were trying to climb up, cracking skulls and shattering bones in the process. The ballista bolt was pretty much just a large spear of pure metal. But Freddy was using it more like a big metal stick to whack the men whenever they popped up. From the very moment he had stepped into the dungeon, he hadn¡¯t really spent any essence. He was fully topped up at exactly 199%. As it was, he was relying purely on his physical endurance to beat the second wave. Even that was more than enough. Lucas cowered in the corner, curled up in a fetal position under the parapet with his hands covering his head. He yelped as Freddy threw another tied-up man beside him. This was the fifth prisoner Freddy had taken. Whoever had strangled the last member of the first wave had done so in a way that was quite difficult to spot. If it weren¡¯t for Freddy¡¯s exceptionally keen perception, he would have never noticed the relatively thin red line on the man¡¯s filthy neck. Needless to say at that point, there was another person with them in the Fortress Dungeon. And given their actions, they weren¡¯t there to help out. Freddy kept one eye open and listened closely to everything that was happening. There was a moment of respite as the charging men hesitated to keep climbing into the meat grinder, and Freddy used this opportunity to tie up the sixth prisoner, making absolutely sure that the third wave wouldn¡¯t be allowed to start. Slowly but surely, the second wave was coming to an end. There were but a handful of men remaining, and they were no longer charging. They surrounded the tower Freddy had climbed upon and discussed how to attack. This was perfectly fine with Freddy. For all he cared, he hoped they never attacked at all, adding another layer of assurance that the third wave wouldn¡¯t arrive. With the men pausing their attack, Freddy walked in a circle around the edge of the tower and carefully eyed every inch of the dungeon for signs of the hidden enemy. He sensed nothing at all. He was tempted to release Bloodshed and have it go check who was there, but he couldn¡¯t afford that risk. Summoning Bloodshed through Blood Sacrifice was one thing. Even if it got destroyed, that was completely inconsequential. But releasing Bloodshed from the shell was dangerous. Spirits were not born equal in power. At all. The weakest spirits were only at the level of mid-tier two-stars, while the strongest could endanger even a peak three-star. While Bloodshed was a very dangerous type of sentient ether construct, the unfortunate fact was that Freddy had taken it into his soul only briefly after it evolved into a spirit. Its combat power was above that of a regular peak two-star but definitely well below a competent three-star. Given that Freddy didn¡¯t know who was in the dungeon with him, he was reluctant to send Bloodshed after them. While it was incredibly unlikely that this person was a three-star, there was always a chance that they could endanger or even destroy Bloodshed. There was also a possibility that there was more than one person there with him. Given the number of men he¡¯d killed in the first two waves, he also had the choice of using Blood Sacrifice, but that would be almost pointless. The enemies he had slain were all mortals. Their blood essence was pathetically weak, and a Bloodshed summoned with so little power would only be able to fight at the level of a peak one-star. That would be nowhere near enough to reveal the hidden enemy. This left Freddy in an awkward situation. All he could really do was wait for the dungeon run to be over. But he felt that things wouldn¡¯t go so smoothly. For a while, he simply walked in circles, keeping his guard up as he eyed every corner of the fortress for signs of movement. Eventually, he felt that something was wrong, but he couldn¡¯t put a finger on it. ¡°The invaders!¡± he suddenly yelled as he listened in. They were completely quiet. Freddy inched forward and peeked down the staircase. There was nobody inside the tower. Suddenly, he heard a shout. He whirled, only to spot a tentacle of darkness tightly wrapped around Lucas¡¯s throat. ¡°Help¡­ me¡­!¡± the boy barely eked out. Without hesitation, Freddy leaped forward and grabbed the tentacle. It didn¡¯t take much strength to tear it apart and set Lucas free, but unfortunately, the attack had fulfilled its purpose. By the time he turned around, it was already too late. There were a number of other tentacles, and they were in the middle of dragging the prisoners off the edge of the tower. He was far too slow to stop them. ¡°Son of a motherfucker!¡± Freddy shouted as he gritted his teeth. Rumbling sounded in the distance, but Freddy ignored it as he looked all around the tower, only to find no signs of anyone present. There was definitely more than one person there, and given the dark-affinity abilities, they could only be members of the Umbra Clan. Someone had put a bounty on my head, he realized. And Umbra had accepted the job. Unhesitantly, he picked up Lucas and leaped off the tower down to the bailey, immediately running towards the exit. With a double-star Flowing Strike, he should be able to¡ª He froze as he spotted the portcullis. The two guards on the sides were both dead on the ground, and the exit was sealed with a barrier of pure darkness. Freddy clenched his jaw. He had confidence in the power of his Flowing Strike, but he knew that it wouldn¡¯t be enough to break through that barrier. Attempting would only result in an unnecessary injury and a waste of essence. A moment later, the sound of a massive boulder slamming into the walls sounded, with the crumbling of stone following it. ¡°So this is their plan¡­¡± They had trapped him here and would force the next waves to spawn until he was exhausted. With his skill set, it would be difficult to force a group of professional assassins to reveal themselves. They would likely only come out when they felt confident in killing him. ¡°Freddy, what the hell is happening!?¡± Lucas shouted. Freddy looked at the young man, frowning deeply as a profound anger flushed through his body. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Lucas,¡± he said. ¡°I shouldn¡¯t have taken you here.¡±This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. He should have been more careful. But it was too late for regrets now. Another boulder slammed into the wall. If the army was allowed to keep pushing, they would eventually break into the fortress. At that point, keeping Lucas safe would become impossible. Enraged, Freddy rushed back to the tower. He picked up a large kite shield and gave it to Lucas. ¡°You¡¯re gonna hide under this!¡± Lucas grabbed it with trembling hands and quickly nodded. He couldn¡¯t leave the boy alone. Thus, the two of them climbed up to the top of the tower together. A moment later, a trebuchet launched a stone. It flew right at them. Without even using an ability, Freddy punched it into rock shards. A ballista bolt came at him next, and he dodged. With a moment of focus, he extracted a blood-plated catapult stone from his storage ring. He activated Hydraulic Flex and Accelerate Blood Projectile with both stars, throwing the stone with all he had. It flew in the direction of a catapult that was about to fire, but it missed. This was exactly why he needed Hydraulic Throw. Hydraulic Flex added power, but it simply lacked the necessary precision to reliably throw stuff. With a groan, Freddy took out another projectile and repeated the same thing. This time, he struck, wrecking the catapult and making it unusable. He kept going. There were only four pieces of siege equipment. With two more misses and three hits, Freddy took them out and prevented the army from breaking the walls down. Then he waited. For the next half an hour, the incoming army slowly climbed up the walls and chased after Freddy. While the barbarians were willing to risk climbing up the side of the tower, these soldiers weren¡¯t willing to do that. That left Freddy dealing with a constant influx of soldiers trying to push up the stairs to the tower. But rather than grind them to dust, Freddy did his best to block them, doing everything in his power to stop the wave from coming anywhere near the end. He also kept an eye out for any shadows that might try to take Lucas away, but nothing like that happened. While the first two waves required no effort, this was different. The soldiers were well trained; keeping them at bay required a lot of effort and focus, and even the occasional ability. This was starting to put a bit of a strain on him. But it was far from enough to push him to exhaustion. Eventually, Freddy finally convinced the soldiers that they wouldn¡¯t be making it through him, and they seemingly pulled back to form a plan of attack. This was great. If only¡ª Freddy¡¯s thoughts were suddenly interrupted as a blaring light shone from within the tower. He felt incredible danger and rushed to pick Lucas up and leap off the tower again. The moment he jumped, the entire tower violently exploded, killing all the soldiers inside and pelting Freddy¡¯s back with large chunks of stone. He landed on the ground below and turned around, only to spot the last few soldiers getting strangled by tentacles of shadow. Whoever was doing this was hidden out of sight on the other side of the wall. ¡°Fuck!¡± he shouted. Rumbling sounded in the distance again. Freddy stood there, frozen. Moments passed, and not long after, a number of boulders landed on the castle walls. If this was allowed to keep going, they would be overrun soon. He gritted his teeth, feeling like he was losing his mind. He would most likely be fine. But Lucas definitely couldn¡¯t survive this. As he felt the sound of marching soldiers get closer to the castle, he suddenly had a thought. He pulled Lucas back into the tower standing at the center of the bailey and walked into the room where the exit was. Hiding Lucas behind his back, he conjured two javelins and waited. These motherfuckers wanted to push him to the brink? Let''s see how well they could hide from both him and the approaching army of soldiers. The sounds kept getting louder, and more and more projectiles landed on the walls. One of the towers before him finally couldn¡¯t hold out, and it started collapsing. In the next instant, Freddy saw a man clad in synthetic black armor scurry out like a cockroach, running and trying to reach the other tower. Every cell in Freddy¡¯s body burst into action, and it almost felt like time itself was slowing to a crawl. He gripped the javelin tight enough to leave imprints of his fingers on it, and with every bit of focus, he threw it. The javelin flew like an arrow, and before the running man even realized what was happening, it struck him right in the side of his temple, crushing straight through his helmet and piercing through his skull. The force of the blow was enough to send the man tumbling like a ragdoll off the side of the battlements and down to the battlefield below. ¡°Yes!¡± he shouted with a satisfied grin. One down. Freddy could only see three towers from inside the gate where he and Lucas were hiding. He heard the other two towers collapse outside his field of view. The army had already surrounded the entire fortress, with several soldiers already climbing up on the battlements. That meant there was only one place the rest of the invaders could be hiding. There was no way they didn¡¯t know where he was. And they had already blown up one tower. The logical next thing to do would be to¡­ Freddy suddenly whirled and turned to face one of the walls next to the shadow barrier. A double-star Flowing Strike flew out. With near-perfect timing, his fist landed on the wall. A deafening explosion sounded, shattering the stone and creating a large hole. On the other side of a wall, a man who had been in the middle of planting an explosive tried to defend himself, but the flying shards struck him at point-blank, shattering several of his bones and sending him tumbling back. Freddy stepped through the hole and turned towards the back of the gate. There, he spotted the rest of the enemies. One more man and two women in full synthetic gear stood with explosives in their hands. Before they could react, Freddy threw a javelin, hitting one of the women right below her clavicle. She flew back, still alive, but not for long with such an injury. The other two cursed and pulled out two shortswords, with the man rushing towards Freddy and the woman running around the other side of the wall, likely aiming for Lucas. ¡°Oh no you don¡¯t!¡± Freddy jumped back inside and pulled Lucas back, just in time to stop a shadowy tentacle from grabbing him by the neck and taking him hostage. The two assassins pulled back, but Freddy couldn¡¯t just remain inside the gate. They could still try to blow him up. But charging outside was similarly dangerous. ¡°Lucas! Keep your shield up!¡± he shouted as he picked the boy up and charged outside. ¡°The defenders are there!¡± a general screamed from the battlements. ¡°Archers, take aim!¡± Freddy blocked the incoming arrows with his back as he looked for the assassins. They had been in the middle of planting more explosives, but with Freddy charging out, they rushed to hide from his javelins. He was met with an absolutely absurd stalemate. While archers kept pelting him from the battlements, Freddy ran in circles around the central tower, trying to get a good look at the assassins to kill them. But in response, the assassins kept running around in the other direction to hide from Freddy. ¡°Come on, you cowards!¡± he yelled angrily. ¡°Stop playing Ring Around the Rosie and just fucking fight me!¡± But this couldn¡¯t last much longer. The soldiers were already descending from the walls, and soon enough, they would all be surrounded. But this was good. Freddy had full confidence in his ability to face the army. These stealth-focused assassins, on the other hand, stood no chance of survival if they were caught in this situation. Just as Freddy was starting to feel confident, he slipped up. One of the assassins had hidden on the balcony, and as Freddy passed, the man leaped down and stabbed him in the back. The attack only barely pushed through the trenchcoat, his armor, and his tough skin, but that seemed to be enough. Through the very tip of the shortsword, Freddy felt an incomparably nasty energy invade his body. It took the form of a leech-like parasite that crawled into the nearest blood vessel and snuck inside. Freddy whirled and punched out at the assassin, but the man pulled back, even leaving his sword behind. ¡°I got him!¡± the man shouted confidently. ¡°You got who, you¡ª¡± Freddy¡¯s words caught in his throat as he realized what the man meant. The parasite quickly made its way through his circulatory system and, before long, made it right into his heart. As soon as it reached its target, it rapidly expanded. If it weren¡¯t for his ridiculous toughness, that would have completely torn his heart apart. But even this was a critical hit. It tore a part of his heart, causing internal bleeding, and the violent sensation left him stunned¡ªparalyzed, even. At this moment, the soldiers were already all around them. In the brief moment of weakness, a tentacle wrapped around Lucas and tore him out of Freddy¡¯s grip. The boy screamed, but the woman put a shortsword to his neck to shut him up. ¡°Quickly, finish him!¡± the woman said. The man rushed towards Freddy, aiming a sword right at his neck. The sword stabbed into Freddy¡¯s throat, cutting one of his jugular veins and severing his windpipe. The man clearly thought this was it for Freddy. He obviously didn¡¯t expect Freddy to grab him by the throat and snap his neck like a twig. The crunching sound echoed through the already noisy bailey, and Freddy whirled around, already in the middle of conjuring a Blood Javelin. He threw it at the woman, aiming straight for her head. The projectile hit. But not before her sword cut right through Lucas¡¯s throat. Chapter 132 - Ego Freddy watched the crimson red pool on Lucas¡¯s throat. The sight of it made the world slow to a crawl. ¡°No!¡± he shouted as he launched himself forward, pushing past several soldiers trying to stab him. He picked Lucas up before he could fall to the ground and held him, checking the wound. The cut was long and deep. It was bleeding incredibly fast. Freddy scrambled to slow the bleeding with his blood essence manipulation and used a double-star Hydraulic Flex to jump on the balcony of the central tower. The room inside was dark and empty, without any sign of the old man who usually announced things. ¡°Fuck, fuck, fuck!¡± Freddy shouted as he struggled to keep the blood from flowing. Manipulating other people¡¯s blood like this was incredibly difficult. Freddy hurriedly extracted a bottle of bright red liquid out of his storage ring. It was a first-aid potion that he brought along just in case of situations like this. He quickly poured it over the wound on Lucas¡¯s neck while using his fingers to pinch the skin shut. The potion absorbed directly into the skin, and soon after, pink, raw tissue began growing around the wound, sealing it shut and stopping the bleeding. It took the whole bottle to finally close the wound. As he threw the bottle aside, he noticed one of the pink fibers suddenly detach and unfurl. ¡°Shit!¡± he cursed. First-aid-quality healing was effective at quickly closing wounds, but its effect didn¡¯t last long, and as the name of the quality suggested, it was only a band-aid solution. He needed to get Lucas to a healer, and he had to hurry the fuck up. With a growl, he rushed back to the balcony and jumped into the fray. ¡°Get out of my way!¡± he shouted as he smashed a soldier¡¯s head in and whirled to face the exit. He stared at it for a long moment, tempted to try blasting it with a couple of Flowing Strikes, but he knew it wouldn¡¯t work. He could feel it from the essence fluctuations within the barrier. This wasn¡¯t something he could break by himself. ¡°Bloodshed! If I summoned you now, could you break this barrier?¡± ¡°I could not,¡± the skeleton said. ¡°Damn it! How much blood do I have to gather!?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know. But I would know when you gather enough.¡± That would have to do. Suddenly, a spear thrust into Freddy¡¯s back. The point couldn¡¯t even break through the trenchcoat, let alone injure him. Freddy turned around, his aura billowing with an intensity that forced the soldiers back. He charged. His fists crushed armor like paper mache. He felt painfully slow at killing at that moment. None of the enemies could even vaguely threaten him, but that didn¡¯t mean he could simply blink and kill everyone there. He moved slower than he wanted to and his reach was limited. He wished he had a massive sword to cut through several enemies simultaneously, but he didn¡¯t. He had to save his blood and essence. He didn¡¯t know how many soldiers he¡¯d have to kill. As he went berserk, he quickly discovered that the fastest way to kill the soldiers was to simply smash the top of their head with his fist. The weight and power behind the blow could crush through any block, and even if he didn¡¯t break through the helmet, the brain would be turned to mush nonetheless. One of the soldiers he killed was carrying a war hammer with a sharp pick on one end and a blunt tip for smashing on the other. He took the hammer, and his killing speed immediately skyrocketed. Any soldier carrying a spear was basically just a walking ammo deposit. He smashed a spear-wielding infantryman upside the head and tore his weapon out of his grasp, using it to kill an archer who was shooting at him from the battlements. It ultimately didn¡¯t take long to finish the wave, but unfortunately, Bloodshed still hadn¡¯t told him he was done. A distant rumbling sounded, marking the beginning of the fourth wave. ¡°God fucking damn it!¡± he shouted as he jumped up to the battlements. A sizable army of soldiers surrounded the fortress, with five generals in golden armor leading the charge. Without hesitation, Freddy leaped down and rushed at the army. The soldiers appeared confused, seeing nothing but a single man running towards them. But at the generals¡¯ command, the archers fired a volley, and the infantry raised their shields and spears, forming a wall. Freddy slammed into them like a bowling ball, sending several men flying. He roared defiantly and swung the war hammer down on a soldier¡¯s head. The weapon killed the man but broke in the process. He stole another weapon and continued fighting. He felt so, so slow. The soldiers surrounded him, keeping him at bay as they poked him with spears. They couldn¡¯t penetrate his high-quality armor, but they could slow him down, and every second he lost was a second closer to Lucas¡¯s death. The minutes felt like they dragged on forever. Freddy could kill a soldier every few seconds, but that simply didn¡¯t feel like it was enough. The constant barrage of arrows and the slashing of swords was starting to severely damage the trenchcoat, and given that it was slowing him down, he made the choice to take it off and store it in his ring. From what he could hear, the rest of the army started closing in on him. They weren¡¯t even bothering with the wrecked fortress. They kept trying to encircle him in a wall of shields, but he simply charged through to break out. He didn¡¯t care about defending himself. That would only slow him down. As such, his armor accumulated damage to the point that it was beginning to fall apart. The weapons were starting to reach him, cutting into his skin and drawing blood. But as quickly as a wound appeared, it would stop bleeding and seal with a layer of pink tissue. ¡°What is this bastard made of!?¡± a soldier wailed in despair. ¡°My lord! Please help us! We¡¯re being slaughtered!¡± ¡°Men!¡± a domineering voice sounded from behind the wall of soldiers. ¡°Open the path! I shall finish him!¡± The soldiers parted, letting one of the golden-armored generals through. The man was mounted on a glorious armored horse, and his equipment shone with impeccable polish. ¡°You fiend!¡± The man raised a halberd at Freddy. ¡°You will pay for¡ª¡± ¡°Shut the fuck up!¡± Freddy screamed as he pulled one of the last catapult boulders from the storage ring and threw it straight at the man¡¯s chest. Before the general could react, the boulder struck, caving the man¡¯s chest in and sending him flying off the horse. The impact on the enemy¡¯s morale was instant and devastating. Freddy continued his onslaught, and as the ranks started to crumble, his killing speed sharply rose. The other generals soon joined the fray to stop Freddy, but it was futile. Their gathering was roughly at around halfway through the second star. Despite talents boosting every aspect of their physical power, they were utterly helpless. Freddy used Blood Javelin with both stars, conjuring one in each hand, and with all the focus he could muster, threw the projectiles at the generals, aiming at their heads. Every throw landed with near-perfect accuracy, breaking through their helmets and finishing them on the spot. With the concept of aerodynamics, the javelins could fly insanely fast¡ªdodging them was ridiculously difficult, especially for mounted army men in heavy armor. At this point, the army was no longer using coherent tactics. Thankfully, while the soldiers could be severely demoralized, they wouldn¡¯t start endlessly running away. Their last stand didn¡¯t last long. However, as he slowly wrapped up the wave, Freddy wasn¡¯t doing the best, either. He was starting to feel exhausted, and the amount of reflux essence in his body was reaching critical levels. He only had 50% essence remaining in his reserves. With Bloodshed¡¯s persisting silence, despair was starting to crawl into Freddy¡¯s heart. Five soldiers remained. Then four, three, two, and then none. Rumbling sounded in the distance. A bloody Freddy in tattered clothes breathed heavily as he clenched his fists. ¡°Is that really not enough?¡± he asked Bloodshed. ¡°It should be close.¡± Freddy sucked in a breath of cold air and whirled. An army of gold-armored soldiers formed a massive wall around the entire fortress. A number of commanders at the peak of the second star shouted out commands but hesitated at the apparent lack of resistance. All that stood in their way was a single man who appeared to be on death¡¯s door. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Freddy completely ignored them and looked for the leader of the wave. Not too far away from where he was stood the leader, clad in fancy armor, billowing with the aura of an early three-star. When using Blood Sacrifice, the amount of blood wasn¡¯t the only thing that mattered. The quality of the blood mattered too. Naturally, the value of a three-star¡¯s blood would be far greater. The general spotted him, and Freddy felt the full suppressive force of the aura wash over him. He gritted his teeth. Freddy had never fought someone above his rank in a ¡°fair¡± fight. And even now, he wasn¡¯t really sure he could win. Even when all the ways three-stars were more powerful than two-stars were put aside, there was one thing that made fighting above one¡¯s rank ridiculously difficult¡ªsuppression. The suppression of a higher-ranked fighter wasn¡¯t just a vague, intimidating feeling. Rather, when someone suppressed their opponent, that meant that in a direct collision of their abilities, the abilities of the suppressed party would be far less effective. If Freddy used something like Flowing Strike, and his opponent used an ability to defend, the effect of the Flowing Strike would be lowered drastically. The same thing applied to the opposite scenario. But Freddy had fought people above his rank¡ªeven far above him. And every time, he managed to come out on top. This wasn¡¯t just due to dumb luck, either. It was because he had access to a form of attack that just happened to completely ignore the suppression of rank¡ªa spirit ability. With a wild roar, Freddy charged right at the mounted general. The general spotted his advance and accepted the challenge. He raised his argent halberd, and his horse charged forward, with the tide of soldiers moving aside in unison to clear the way. The two men charged through a battlefield of scattered corpses, rapidly approaching each other. Once he was close enough, Freddy jumped into the air. The general mounted his halberd and prepared to spear Freddy through his torso. But moments before the attacks connected, Freddy shouted from the top of his lungs. ¡°Leviathan¡¯s Fury!¡± Instantly, his whole body exploded in a shower of blood as his bones formed into spiked spurs and assumed the shape of a leviathan¡¯s skull, biting down on the charging general. The man immediately reacted, using some sort of metal-affinity ability to create a shimmering sheen of protection on his armor, but the skull bit down, pushing the general off his horse and chewing his armor. The spiked teeth ruined the defensive ability and slid through the cracks, leaving shallow wounds and cracking the armor all across its surface. The bones retracted, and Freddy continued falling towards the general. His body was ruined, and the healing wasn¡¯t nearly enough to offset the damage he took. But he ignored that, forming a fist of broken bone before the general could regain himself and use another defensive ability. Gore Knuckles formed. Both stars shone in his soul as a Flowing Strike coursed through his mangled flesh, moving with the momentum of a falling mountain as it crashed on the general¡¯s chestplate. With a deafening crack, the chestplate and several spikes broke apart as Freddy¡¯s blow sank into the man¡¯s sternum, breaking skin and shattering bone as the spikes pierced the man¡¯s heart. The ground behind the general exploded with cracks as the man spat blood and the influx of healing closed Freddy¡¯s wounds. With a sputtering cough, the general¡¯s body went limp, and with a nourishing flow, the ether coursed into Freddy¡¯s body, signaling the man¡¯s death. ¡°Master, that will be enough!¡± Bloodshed said. ¡°Ugh¡­¡± Freddy groaned as he got up to his feet. His knees shook so hard he looked like he was about to fall over at any moment. Most of the bones in his body were cracked, held together with a very thin layer of tissue from what little healing he could get with that last strike. And that tissue was already fraying. ¡°The¡­ The general is dead!¡± ¡°Claim the assassin¡¯s head!¡± Freddy turned around and started running. His steps were limp, and his breathing was ragged. He wouldn¡¯t be able to make it back to the fortress. Hell, he could barely even walk. With a thought, he extracted a giant metal cube from his ring and pressed a button. The seams lit up with the pale glow of ether, and the cube unfolded into a motorcycle. He jumped on it and stepped on the pedal. He revved it and pushed the bike to its limits, biting into the stored ether to accelerate faster. The wheels spun wildly, digging into the dirt for a long second as he suddenly sped up, just in time to avoid a volley of arrows coming his way. The army didn¡¯t give up. A number of arrows kept flying at him, many striking his skin, with only a few hitting the bike without doing much damage. Freddy felt his instincts flare suddenly and turned around just in time to spot the massive ballista bolt flying his way. With a click of his tongue, he reached out with his right arm and used his bare flesh to block the strike. The bolt flew right through his hand, crushing it into pieces, but his efforts were enough to redirect it away from his head. The bike was momentarily thrown out of balance, but he regained control as he accelerated towards one of the broken towers. The tower had crumbled, leaving a pile of debris right outside the fortress. Freddy sped up towards one of the slanted pieces and used it to ramp over the wall. While still flying midair, he hurriedly folded the bike and put it away into his ring to spare it from the damage of the fall while he himself slammed into the side of the tower, breaking his arm and tumbling to the bailey below. Without even getting up, he opened his eyes and shouted. ¡°Blood Sacrifice!¡± There was an interesting interaction between Freddy¡¯s Blood Ring and Blood Sacrifice. Blood Sacrifice, despite being a spirit ability, was still a blood-affinity spell, which made the effects of the ring apply to it¡ªthe cost was reduced by, 6% and the power was amplified by 5%. However, Blood Sacrifice didn¡¯t have a set price. What the cost reduction actually did was make the blood he sacrificed more valuable. 94 parts of blood had the same value as a 100¡ªthat was no longer a discount¡ªit was a 6.4% boost to power. But that was only the base power. With a base power of 106.4%, the 5% bonus to power brought the final value to 111.7%. Blood started gathering. Freddy could hear the distant yelps of startled soldiers. Their siege weapons went full force, raining boulders and bolts down on the fortress, but it wasn¡¯t enough to stop Freddy. The massive pool of blood converted into blood essence and slowly took the form of a giant skeleton towering over the fortress. Standing on three legs, what looked like a spine tree with skulls as fruit conjured into existence. This was by far the most bizarre form Freddy had seen Bloodshed take. But strange or not, he had accomplished his goal. ¡°Bloodshed!¡± he called mentally. ¡°Do some damage so I can heal!¡± ¡°Understood,¡± the skeleton said. One of the spine branches reached out for the wall. The skull on the end of the branch opened its jaw wide, taking a huge bite. It slowly lifted the massive wall section into the air and threw it towards the army. The entire realm shook. The soldiers screamed as a massive cloud of dust lifted into the air. Freddy felt his whole body rapidly recover to at least natural quality. ¡°Holy shit¡­¡± He quickly got up and rushed to Lucas. The patch of tissue had already frayed a lot. It was leaking blood, and Lucas was unconscious, pale as bone. But he was still alive. Freddy picked him up and rushed outside. ¡°Bloodshed!¡± ¡°Understood,¡± the skeleton answered as it reached out several skulled spine branches towards the central tower. Twenty meters away, Freddy urged the bike to unfold faster. As it finally formed, he draped Lucas over the back and sat down. With a swing of one of the skulls, the tower collapsed, and with another swing, the barrier of darkness shattered, the portcullis behind it crumbling into pieces. Freddy stepped on the pedal and rushed straight through the exit. As he moved through the cloud of dust and exited the fortress, he spotted a startled man in black gear nearby. It was the same uniform that the assassins had been wearing. ¡°Hey buddy!¡± Freddy screamed as he conjured a Blood Javelin and threw it at the man, hitting him square in the chest. ¡°Fuck you!¡± Without pause, Freddy continued riding towards the plaza, moving straight past a number of bewildered delvers. It didn¡¯t take long to reach the passage and exit the interspace. There, he immediately turned to face the healers. He brought the half-dead Lucas to them and put him down. The healers eyed Freddy a bit, looking over his tattered armor. He was practically half-naked¡ªthere was more dried blood on him than clothing. Seeing them hesitate, he released his peak two-star over and growled. ¡°Hurry the fuck up! He¡¯s almost dead!¡± The healers jumped to their feet at the command and rushed to help the wounded Lucas while Freddy glared at them. The message behind his gaze was clear as day¡ª Fuck it up. I dare you. *** Bloodshed moved a large chunk of the tower to the entrance, using it to barricade the exit so that nobody would come inside. Then, the large number of skulls turned to face the army of men standing frozen and watching in terror. The dungeon run wasn¡¯t over yet. *** Lucas¡¯s treatment went¡­ all right. His neck was patched up, and several holy-affinity healers used supernatural-quality healing on him. The healing of the holy affinity was awfully expensive to use. Despite several healers going all out to treat Lucas, only once they were fully exhausted did they manage to finish their job. While it wasn¡¯t exactly scar tissue, there was a visible discoloration along Lucas¡¯s neck. The boy was still deathly pale and unconscious, but he would survive. The bloody, exhausted Freddy picked the boy up and headed home. Well, after paying an insane sum for the healing. Throughout his entire way back, he felt an immense rush of healing continuously pour into his body. It appeared that Bloodshed was still fighting inside the dungeon. He wasn¡¯t only getting an influx of healing, either¡ªevery so often, he was filled with ether as Bloodshed killed one of the commanders. Freddy wasn¡¯t surprised to see this. Might as well keep going, he supposed. Although he lamented leaving before he could get the reward. However, it wasn¡¯t the time to think about that. Once Hellen saw them return, she was petrified. She berated Freddy with the type of righteous wrath only a mother could muster, and he remained quiet, accepting whatever words she directed his way, and continuously apologized. He had been so stupid. Why did he think it was safe to bring Lucas with him? He wasn¡¯t exactly a complete nobody in this city anymore. The people around him would inevitably be pulled into whatever conflict he was part of. Again and again, he kept making miserable mistakes. Was he just that stupid? Or was his ego going out of control? At any rate, he had to ensure the safety of these two. With Freddy¡¯s identity being so public, he wouldn¡¯t be surprised if someone tried breaking into his apartment one of these days. He¡¯d talk to Thor. He¡¯d beg on his knees if he had to. These two needed to be protected. Once Hellen was thoroughly exhausted from screaming at him, he left her alone with Lucas and retreated to his room in shame. There, he collapsed on his bed and sighed. Right about this point, he finally felt the constant influx of lifesteal stop. ¡°I guess Bloodshed is finished,¡± he said with a sigh. ¡°A pity.¡± The warm feeling of lifesteal had been a comforting presence. Now that it had stopped, he was left with nothing but the cold feeling of shame. And then something unexpected happened. Suddenly, a strange light lit up before him. ¡°What!?¡± he yelped as he jumped and looked around. However, there was no enemy attacking him. Instead, he was faced with a familiar sight. This was the light of the reward for the dungeon manifesting before him. ¡°Huh!? You still get a reward even if you leave the dungeon?¡± But something was wrong. The light was far brighter than the last time he got a reward. ¡°Master,¡± Bloodshed called into his mind. ¡°It seems that the dungeon only has six waves.¡± Freddy¡¯s eyes shot wide open. ¡°What the hell did you do?¡± He could practically feel the skeleton grinning ear to ear in its shell, deep within his soul. ¡°I cleared it.¡± Chapter 133 - Warrior King Hellen screamed as she jumped to her feet, nearly running out of the room. Some sort of strange, ethereal light had appeared above her unconscious son, and a moment later, a small pouch dropped on his lap. She instinctually lunged for the bag and grabbed it. Something clinked inside it, almost sounding like a handful of coins. Still panicked, she ran up to the window, opened it, and threw the pouch outside with all her strength. ¡°What happened!?¡± Freddy¡¯s voice rang as he stormed into the room. He saw the frazzled Hellen and scowled at her in confusion. ¡°Some¡­ Something appeared!¡± she said. ¡°I threw it outside!¡± Freddy deflated. ¡°Was it a¡­ pouch of coins?¡± Hellen froze. ¡°Coins? I¡­ I don¡¯t know. I saw the light and I¡­¡± Freddy chuckled. ¡°Relax. It was probably only a few silver coins. It¡¯s related to the dungeon.¡± She pouted and humphed, turning away from Freddy. ¡°I¡¯m never letting him go back there!¡± With a chuckle, Freddy turned around and slowly closed the door. As soon as he turned around, he seemed to deflate slightly. The last sixty seconds were some of the most overwhelming he¡¯d ever lived through in his life. Slowly, almost fearfully, he reached into his pocket and pulled out an item. It was a shimmering pendant. As he saw the weapon and felt its power, he gulped. ¡°Bloodshed¡­ what is this?¡± He already had a pretty good idea of what the object itself was. It was a circular, silver medallion hanging on a frayed, brown string. It looked shoddy quality-wise, but he could tell that just the string alone was insanely tough. Even if he tried with all his strength, he wasn¡¯t sure whether he could snap it. But the string wasn¡¯t the thing that got him so disturbed. He pulled the medallion closer and took another look at it. It appeared scratched up as if it had seen many years of action. On its surface was the carving of two men locked in mortal combat. And this carving shifted. The two men repeatedly lunged at each other, exchanging moves, blocking and striking, never able to get the upper hand no matter how hard they both tried. Cursed items weren¡¯t particularly unusual. They were imbued with an aura, but it was usually impossible to tell whether an item was cursed without taking a look in the Netherecho. There was, of course, an exception to this rule¡ªunique cursed items. They usually exhibited some sort of supernatural phenomenon that made them relatively easy to identify. Freddy¡¯s Blood Ring, for example, was made of what appeared to be dried flesh. Whenever he put it into water, it would shift a bit, subtly squirming. It took him a long time to even notice this. But even then, just the fact that the ring had dug into his bone was already proof enough that it was unique. This pendant was the same. It was a unique cursed item. Bloodshed thought momentarily and then offered, ¡°Would you like me to tell you what the announcer said at the end?¡± ¡°The announcer?¡± Freddy asked, frowning. ¡°Oh! Do you mean that bearded old guy? Yeah, tell me.¡± Bloodshed went silent for a moment. When it started speaking, its voice was identical to that of the bearded old man, almost as if Bloodshed had recorded the man¡¯s voice and was playing it back, startling Freddy for a long moment. He never knew Bloodshed could do that. ¡°Great defenders!¡± the old man said. ¡°On this glorious day, our kingdom had not only defended from our attackers, but we had purged them entirely! Our great name will resound through every land, and our glorious deeds will be passed down for all eternity! Moreover, the merit for this grand achievement falls almost entirely unto a single hero¡ªSlave! Not only had he stood facing an army by himself, but he had done so despite the overwhelming superior power of his opponents! ¡°Thus, in recognition of his glorious deeds, Slave will be granted a most exquisite heirloom of our ancient kingdom: the necklace worn by the Great King who established these immortal lands through his unstoppable conquest¡ªthe Warrior King¡¯s Pendant! ¡°And now, my brave, loyal people, following this auspicious day, as we have conquered our greatest enemy, our kingdom shall surely enter a period of unseen peace and prosperity!¡± That was the end of the speech. But Bloodshed wasn¡¯t done retelling all that happened. ¡°Master, after the end of the speech, the dungeon had transformed.¡± ¡°Hmm!?¡± Freddy yelped in bewilderment. ¡°How so?¡± ¡°The castle was repaired, and the surroundings blossomed into wheat fields. Numerous peasants appeared to tend to these lands.¡± ¡°What? What does this mean?¡± ¡°I do not know¡­ but I believe that the Fortress Dungeon is now useless.¡± Freddy winced at that. Thankfully, there were no witnesses as to what exactly happened, so it was likely that people wouldn¡¯t presume Freddy had defeated the whole dungeon himself. Whether he¡¯d be blamed for what happened or not was uncertain. But losing the Fortress Dungeon would hurt pretty much all of Repentawa, from the weak beginners to the bigger factions. It was an excellent place to train fighters and gather funds. Now that it was gone, people would undoubtedly look for someone to blame. He sighed at that. Given the speech Bloodshed shared with him, this was most likely the first time this dungeon was fully cleared. To be honest, that was quite shocking. But it also made sense. He didn¡¯t know exactly how difficult the sixth wave had been, but given the appearance of a three-star general in the fifth wave, it was definitely pretty overwhelming. From what little Freddy knew of many of the local three-stars, he suspected that, in direct combat, Thor was most likely at the very top in Repentawa. This kept him and his faction safe from the wrath of the others. Given how much even Thor had to struggle in the fifth wave, it was hardly shocking that the sixth wave wouldn¡¯t be beatable. Perhaps if all the three-stars got together, they could do it, but¡­ would these people really be willing to risk their lives and cooperate like that? Absolutely not. But that was irrelevant. Freddy looked at the Warrior King¡¯s Pendant and gulped. From that speech, he guessed that the reward was no doubt influenced by the fact that he did most of the work himself and by the fact that he was only at the second star. Given the difficulty of accomplishing this and the theoretical merit he gathered¡­ What exactly did he get? A unique cursed item was already an insane reward. But not all cursed items were made equal. Depending on what exactly this item did, it was no exaggeration to say that it could change his life. He gripped it tightly and sent some essence into it, connecting with the item. He received vague impressions in the form of bundles of concepts. Unfortunately, at just the second star, it was pretty damn difficult for him to unravel the exact details. He had some practice with the Blood Ring, but even then, he relied on Bloodshed to tell exactly how the item was progressing. But he was making some progress. The first thing he realized was that it had two separate effects. This was excellent news. His Blood Ring also had two separate benefits, both a boost to power and a cost reduction. Well, it had three effects after that asura fused the dagger into it; but even just two was already exceptional. As for what exactly these benefits were, all he could tell was that they somehow referred to weapons. Weapons¡­? This was strange. Once he equipped the pendant, it would have some sort of effect on any weapon he was wielding at that moment. There was an easier way to check, he supposed. He slowly pulled the pendant over his head. As soon as he placed it around his neck, he immediately felt his pride soar, as if his heroic spirit was influenced by this item. He used Blood Javelin. His metallic blood poured through the skin of his hand, quickly forming a crimson weapon. He gripped the javelin in his hand. As soon as he held it, he felt some sort of energy rush from the pendant and seep into the weapon. Freddy watched with eyes wide open as the energy formed intricate patterns of parallel and perpendicular golden lines all across the javelin. In a single breath, the weapon went from a dull-looking shape of blood metal to a dignified, royal form of red decorated with shimmering gold. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡°Holy shit,¡± he muttered. ¡°Hey, Bloodshed,¡± he called. ¡°Yes, Master?¡± ¡°Could you help me figure out what this cursed item does?¡± ¡°Hmm¡­ It will be difficult since the concepts within aren¡¯t related to blood. But now that it¡¯s connected to your soul, I can read into it. It will take a while, however.¡± ¡°No problem,¡± he said with a giggle. ¡°I have all the time in the world.¡± For a long half-hour, Freddy waited for Bloodshed to unravel the mysteries of the pendant. He twirled the spear in his hands, unable to take his eyes off the beautiful shapes across its surface. This shit looked fancy as hell. And while it was hard to get an exact read on what was different about the javelin, the more he played with it, the more confident he got about his guesses. Bloodshed finally finished digging through the concepts and spoke up. ¡°The item affects any weapons Master uses while wearing the pendant. It has two separate effects¡ªthe first makes the affected weapons deal 101 parts damage, and the second increases the item¡¯s durability to 101 parts.¡± As he heard Bloodshed explain it, Freddy¡¯s hand clenched, nearly crushing the javelin in his grip. +1% to damage and +1% to durability. This was incredible. The concept of ¡°damage¡± was a pretty damn powerful thing to alter through a cursed item. The main reason was that damage wasn¡¯t a linear concept. Not at all. People¡¯s bodies, armor, and abilities had breaking points. If one did a hypothetical ¡°100 damage¡± against a shield that could tolerate ¡°101 damage,¡± that made the difference between breaking through the shield and being blocked. And this was a unique item. It could grow. And that wasn¡¯t even the whole effect. It also affected durability. This was effectively the opposite of damage. His Blood Ring already affected the power of his blood abilities. ¡°Power¡± as a concept referred to the expression of the primary concept of an ability. For any weapon Freddy created, the primary concept was hardening the blood into a shape. Increasing the power, in this case, made his weapons¡­ well¡­ harder. This was already an incredible advantage for a practitioner of Crimson Mercury. Having even more durability on top of that would have a priceless impact on the quality of any weapons he created. This was a huge deal. His Gore Knuckles had a habit of shattering pretty often under the stress of the power behind his strikes. The value of extra durability could be imagined. He suddenly remembered something and scoffed. He pulled out the tattered clothing from his storage ring, the rags that his grueling mountain hike turned into a material for a cursed item. Sighing, he put the filthy clothes away. Unless cursed items were part of a set, equipping more than two was impossible. The effect of the third item wouldn¡¯t kick in, and it could even potentially cause soul damage. With two unique cursed items, Freddy had filled his quota. There was no more room for the clothes. But he didn¡¯t necessarily mind this. Now that he was really thinking about it, cursed armor wasn¡¯t suitable for him at all. Leviathan¡¯s Fury was the main culprit. Using the spirit ability in a bind would mean destroying any cursed armor he was wearing. Hell, it was extremely destructive toward any type of armor he tried equipping. While he was still a poor bastard, this was hardly an issue, but the richer he became, the more of a problem this would be for him. There was just one more thing to check out. ¡°Bloodshed¡­¡± he called hesitantly. ¡°What do I have to do to develop this pendant?¡± Unique cursed items could grow in power. But to make them grow, one had to fulfill some sort of requirement. This almost always meant defeating enemies. But it was never that simple. Even with the Blood Ring, it wasn¡¯t just beating enemies; it was spilling blood. This might seem like an irrelevant detail, but it mattered a lot. For example, if Freddy fought against golems or some form of undead or maybe even elementals, the Blood Ring just wouldn¡¯t grow. His targets needed to have blood. On top of that, the ring responded a lot better when he spilled the blood of many different enemies in one massive fight. Bloodshed quickly reponded. ¡°The item seems to grow through triumph.¡± ¡°Triumph?¡± ¡°You must defeat enemies that suppress you for the pendant to grow.¡± Freddy¡¯s expression turned ugly at that. ¡°Mmmh¡­ yeah¡­ that sucks.¡± He knew that the weapon¡¯s effect seemed too good to be true. While Freddy had managed to beat enemies stronger than himself before, it was always in dire life-or-death confrontations. Beating enemies more powerful than oneself was a very strict requirement. But for the effect this weapon provided? It wasn¡¯t unreasonable. Both of the bonuses were immensely valuable. Sighing, Freddy tucked the pendant into his shirt and got up. It was time to kick the mother-son duo out of his apartment. *** ¡°New recruits?¡± Thor asked. ¡°Hell yeah! Keep ¡®em coming. We¡¯re always short on staff.¡± ¡°Thank you. I really appreciate it.¡± ¡°No, Freddy, thank you!¡± Thor said, chuckling as he got off the office chair. ¡°But how about we talk to them directly first?¡± Thor walked out of the office and invited Hellen and Lucas, who were waiting in the lobby. Lucas still looked a bit ill. His skin was pale, and he looked exhausted. He¡¯d lost quite a bit of blood, and that wasn¡¯t even mentioning the fatigue from all the fighting he did. But he was awake, and time waited for no one. Lucas was offered a position as a recruit trainee. It would be a long while before he saw any real action, and he wouldn¡¯t be paid much until then, but his living costs would be covered in full by Valhalla. Naturally, this included his mother, too. Most Valhalla members had close relatives living at headquarters, even if they weren¡¯t employees. It was extremely common for close ones to get kidnapped when someone was an archhuman. Keeping a few mortals fed was far cheaper than having a member betray the faction because of blackmail. The talk didn¡¯t last long. Lucas accepted the offer, and his mother reluctantly agreed to stay at Valhalla. Today¡¯s incident had really disturbed her. Given how her other child ended up¡­ well¡­ yeah. Once they were both signed up, Thor got up and suddenly seemed to realize something. ¡°Oh, yeah, Freddy, I¡¯ve never really given you a tour of the whole headquarters, have I? You¡¯ve been training here recently, too, but I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve seen you use all our facilities. How about it? Want to go check things out?¡± ¡°Oh, yeah, sure,¡± Freddy agreed. ¡°We can take Lucas along.¡± ¡°Uh¡­ yeah,¡± Lucas muttered. ¡°Thank you.¡± ¡°Sure thing.¡± Thor chuckled. ¡°As for you, Mrs. Black, you¡¯re also invited to come. But if you want, we can escort you to your new residence instead.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll go with the second option,¡± she said, sighing. ¡°I need a nap.¡± Freddy and Lucas followed Thor as the man gave them a detailed tour. Frankly, with the man¡¯s position, Freddy knew for a fact that he had plenty of better things to be doing at the moment. And yet here he was, guiding them around. Freddy finally got a decent tour of where everything was. They had some pretty nice equipment for physical exercise, too, which he would no doubt be using quite a bit. They also had gathering rooms and even rooms for meditation. This was all pretty ordinary stuff. But they had more than just that. One of the facilities they had was just a large collection of isolated meditation rooms. They were intentionally made to be void of ether. As for what these rooms were made for? Right next to the collection of small rooms was a massive library. This wasn¡¯t an ordinary library, though. That could be found on the other end of the building. Rather than mundane books, these shelves were filled with tablets. These tablets contained strange runes all across their surfaces. These runes were ether imprints. A lot could be gleaned through meditation alone. When Freddy sent essence into his blood, he received all sorts of information when he reabsorbed that essence back into his soul. But this information was far too raw and unfocused. It was a soup of extremely complex concepts embodying pretty much everything his blood was. Unless he knew exactly what he was looking for, trying to glimpse a profound truth was not an easy task. These tablets, on the other hand, were a lot more focused. Some of them detailed the exact imprint needed to create a certain ability, while others were more general bundles of concepts intended to inspire someone when they were trying to create something original. This was extremely valuable. Freddy had already seen something similar in that book he bought all the way back in Pittersville. But the ether imprints in that book were extremely faint compared to these things. Those were cheaply produced references that barely even allowed a peek into the complex inner workings of essence. These tablets were useful for more than just making new abilities. From stage 0 to stage 2, abilities had no such thing as mid-stage bottlenecks. They simply grew until they were ready for an upgrade. Stage 3 was different. At stage 3¡ª50%, an ability would encounter a barrier, and the shell would become a little blurry again. The only way to make further progress at that point was to reform the shell with more advanced concepts. This was also an opportunity to fix mediocre abilities. A similar thing also happened at stage 4¡ª33%, and presumably at 66%, but Freddy had no idea whether anyone even had an ability that advanced. The number of people who actually knew what happened at that point was extremely low. Only characters on the level of the empress were privy to those secrets. The ether imprints Valhalla had were probably not some particularly profound stuff. But they were still very valuable nonetheless. It wasn¡¯t possible to just draw the shapes. The process of forming these imprints was long and expensive, and some were probably found inside a dungeon somewhere in the interspace. But that still wasn¡¯t all that Valhalla had to offer. There was another facility for testing abilities and weapons other than the one Freddy was using. This second one was a lot more valuable. In the middle of a large room, there were thick columns of pale gray metal. They were so big that even Freddy could only wrap his arms around half their girth. This strange metal was a material called ¡°impact alloy.¡± There were only five of these columns, and all of them were currently occupied. Freddy watched one of the two-star fighters swing an axe at the metal column. The axe embedded pretty easily into the metal, and the metal rippled, showing how far and how intensely the force was distributed through the metal. The column remained distorted momentarily and then rapidly regenerated, erasing the marks as if they¡¯d never happened. That was a pretty insane property. If the metal wasn¡¯t so soft, such a material would make for essentially perfect armor. The man pulled his axe back again, and this time, he used a Tectonic Strike. The impact was far greater. The axe embedded almost entirely into the metal, and the ripples were considerably more pronounced, clearly showcasing the difference between just swinging the axe by itself and adding an ability to the attack. Freddy really wanted to test himself out, but it was considered extremely rude to interrupt people while they were actively using any of the facilities. For stuff like this impact alloy, the members had to reserve a time when they¡¯d be using it. There were only five, and everyone could use a safe place to test their abilities, strength, or weapons. While he was confident that if he asked nicely, any of the people there would let him take a swing, that was still a bit of a dick move, so he refrained from doing it. And then, finally, they were brought to what was most likely the single most valuable facility Valhalla had access to¡ªa puppet arena. One could select up to ten puppets at varying levels of difficulty and practice fighting against them. These puppets were extremely resilient and capable of regenerating from anything that didn¡¯t completely destroy them. They were also brutally expensive to own privately. There were only three rooms available, allowing for a maximum of three people to use the facility at the same time. It was also momentarily busy. Once they wrapped up the tour, Lucas went to his new apartment. Freddy and Thor waved to the boy, and as soon as he was out of sight, Thor turned to Freddy. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m gonna need you to tell me exactly what happened today. Let¡¯s go somewhere private.¡± Chapter 134 - Secrets Freddy sat in Thor¡¯s office, maintaining a neutral expression. He had just finished retelling the events inside the dungeon. Of course, this was a very¡­ redacted version of the real story. Freddy and Lucas went into the dungeon. There, they were attacked by a group of assassins. Freddy kicked their ass and left the dungeon. He used his trenchcoat¡¯s tracking feature as ¡°proof¡± of when he left the dungeon. Naturally, Thor had already heard of the bizarre change that happened within the dungeon. The man was leaning against his desk and staring into the floor as Freddy recounted what happened. Once Freddy was finished, Thor snickered. ¡°You know, I respect you quite a bit. You were attacked by a Three-Headed Snake squad of the Umbra Clan while doing a dungeon run and protecting a beginner one star, and yet you managed to kill them all and escape unharmed. That¡¯s insane. I don¡¯t think I was even a third as capable as you at your level.¡± ¡°A Three-Headed Snake squad?¡± ¡°That¡¯s the ranking nomenclature of the Umbra Clan. Just for your information, that¡¯s the second-highest rank they have. The only squad above that is the so-called Hydra Squad. And that squad is headed by their current patriarch.¡± ¡°Why would such a squad come after me?¡± ¡°They were paid to do so. If I had to guess, it¡¯s probably the Gems that contracted them.¡± Freddy¡¯s eyes widened slightly. ¡°The Gems¡­? Do you think they¡ª¡± ¡°No,¡± Thor said. ¡°They probably don¡¯t know you¡¯re the one who killed Shawn. If they did, they wouldn¡¯t have used such indirect means to target you. The head of the family would have personally come for you.¡± Freddy winced at that and felt his heart tremble. ¡°But why would they pay the Umbra Clan to go after me if they don¡¯t know?¡± Thor chuckled. ¡°The head of the Gem family has to be in a pretty shit mood these days. Put yourself in that old bastard¡¯s shoes for a moment; he had lost two of his kids, both in bizarre ways. He is feeling powerless and frustrated. He has to lash out somehow. It¡¯s no wonder he¡¯s going overboard to deal with problems. ¡°To the local factions, your existence might not be a total disaster, but you¡¯re bad news. They¡¯d prefer to keep us as weak as possible. But they hadn¡¯t acted because the price to take care of you was greater than the likely benefits of getting rid of you. That squad you killed¡ªthey¡¯re pretty fucking expensive. It¡¯s extremely rare for them to fail at killing their target. ¡°The only reason the Gem head would pay for their services is to make himself feel like he¡¯s wresting back some control over the problems he¡¯s having, even if he has to pay a huge price. Of course, now that you¡¯ve mercilessly crushed his balls by being such a badass, he¡¯s going to be really pissed.¡± Freddy felt his heart sink. ¡°Do you think he¡¯ll¡ª¡± ¡°No. He won¡¯t escalate things without further motivation. He might be angry, but he isn¡¯t a moron. If taking you out is more expensive or risky than he can tolerate, he¡¯ll leave it at that. For now, at least.¡± Indeed. This might not be an immediate problem, but there would definitely be further trouble with the Gems in the future. Only idiots would let their enemies walk away. Especially enemies like Freddy. ¡°Anyway,¡± Thor continued, ¡°I recommend you refrain from going out to delve by yourself.¡± Freddy nodded. It was simply too risky. Thankfully, Valhalla did regular delves into the interspace, and it wouldn¡¯t be an issue for Freddy to join a high-ranking party. It was still regretful, however. Thor looked contemplative for a moment. ¡°Are you also going to move to Valhalla?¡± Freddy thought about it for a moment, but then shook his head. Was there a risk that someone might try to kill him in his apartment? Not really. Freddy only slept two hours a day. And while he slept, as long as Bloodshed was keeping guard, there was no assassin that could sneak up on him. And the possibility of being openly attacked by a group of people while in his apartment was basically nonexistent. The empire was far from a utopia. But the previous 200 years had taught the rulers a number of valuable lessons. Stuff like making certain talents illegal or making the banks a safe way for everyone to store their personal belongings were crucial cornerstones of a stable and prosperous society. Another of these cornerstones were the laws surrounding conflict between archhumans. There were many situations where fighting or killing wouldn¡¯t even be investigated, let alone punished legally. Conversely, there were just as many strict regulations where fighting wasn¡¯t tolerated in the slightest. One of these regulations involved fighting in residential areas. Archhuman combat was destructive. Mortals, non-combatants, and infrastructure were pretty fragile. There were periods of history where fights weren¡¯t regulated. Those were near-universally remembered as dark times. Despite the looser law enforcement in the Northern Belt, regulating fights was the empire¡¯s bottom line, one that they had to enforce in all their territories. Thor saw Freddy shake his head and smiled. ¡°I see. That shouldn¡¯t be a problem. Do still keep an eye open for anyone trying to break in. Trust me, it happens.¡± ¡°Okay. I will.¡± ¡°Well, I¡¯m not worried about you. You¡¯ll be fine. Even if something happens, you can probably use that strange healing method of yours, or even whatever you used to clear the dungeon.¡± Freddy stiffened at that. Thor sighed deeply and shook his head. ¡°I just wish you trusted me enough to share the full story of what happened today.¡± Freddy was going to deny that he was hiding anything, but just as he was about to speak, he shut his mouth and remained quiet. Thor wasn¡¯t some naive dumbass. He might have appeared relatively young externally, but he had the age of an old man, and a lifetime of experience dealing with the world of archhumans. Trying to play dumb at this point would have been insulting to the man¡¯s wisdom and intelligence. ¡°You have your secrets¡ªI get that,¡± Thor said. ¡°I¡¯m not going to put down any ultimatums on you. As long as you¡¯re willing to stay with my poor little faction, I¡¯ll keep my mouth shut and tolerate it.¡± The man went silent for a long moment. He stopped leaning against the desk and walked over to the window looking over the vast forest. Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. For a moment, he looked so old and tired. His back slumped as if the weight of all his years was pressing down on him. A sorrow crept into his aura, and as he opened his mouth to speak, his voice came out as a whisper, ¡°You¡¯re special, Freddy. Really. I am quite lucky to have found you. But it¡¯s becoming increasingly clear that your potential is something that Valhalla can¡¯t nurture or¡­ contain.¡± Freddy laughed at that, feeling a little bewildered. ¡°I feel that¡¯s going a bit far.¡± ¡°Is it now¡­? I would disagree.¡± Thor turned around. His eyes had a pleading light in them, one that struck Freddy to the core, moving something cold and hard deep within him. ¡°I wish I had a way to make you trust me. I really do. But you¡¯re like the cats prowling the streets of Repentawa¡ªyou stay close enough for people to throw you food, but far away enough to escape in a heartbeat.¡± He couldn¡¯t deny that. ¡°But that¡¯s okay,¡± Thor said. ¡°It¡¯s better than being too trusting.¡± The man slowly walked back and sat down on his office chair, slumping as he looked deep into Freddy¡¯s eyes. ¡°I¡¯d like to make you an offer if you¡¯re willing to hear me out.¡± Freddy thought for a moment, but saw no harm in listening. ¡°I¡¯m all ears.¡± Thor nodded. ¡°You already know that three-stars in the Northern Belt are taken away as soon as they reach 299% essence capacity. That was supposed to happen to me.¡± He chuckled sadly. ¡°But I¡¯m a stubborn prick, you see. I gave myself a soul wound to keep me from ever getting that far.¡± Freddy¡¯s eyebrows jumped and the muscles around his mouth grew slack. If Thor was telling the truth, his actions were those of a total lunatic. Anyone who was willing to surrender an opportunity to become a four-star was, to put it lightly, a complete moron. ¡°Why would you do that?¡± Thor smiled. ¡°To stay here. To protect my people.¡± Then, his smile extinguished. ¡°But this place is rotten to the core. It would take one hell of a force to change anything. And Valhalla has been stagnating. While I was getting stronger, our influence kept increasing. Now that I¡¯m not¡­ Well, if I was more aggressive, it would be a different story. But I can¡¯t afford to take such risks. Unless I had a successor.¡± ¡°Oh hell no,¡± Freddy said reflexively. Thor laughed. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, that¡¯s not my offer. I know people like you. You¡¯re a free spirit. Tying you down is a futile effort.¡± ¡°So what exactly are you offering, then?¡± Thor¡¯s expression turned serious. ¡°There¡¯s a whole private section in the headquarters building that is made for my personal use. But I¡¯m hardly making any progress these days with my soul wound. It would be better for you to get some use out of it.¡± Freddy¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ a lot. Are you really willing to make that offer?¡± ¡°No,¡± Thor said decisively. ¡°Well, to someone who I don¡¯t trust, I could maybe take a risk. But for someone who doesn¡¯t trust me¡­ I¡¯m not willing to go that far.¡± Freddy snickered. ¡°You want me to tell you my secrets?¡± Thor raised a finger. ¡°Just one. I¡¯m willing to offer you a ton of resources to help you grow. All I¡¯m asking in return is that you stay long enough for me to find a successor¡­ and just a single one of your secrets.¡± Freddy froze. This was a tempting offer. If he was being honest, he didn¡¯t have any negative impressions of Thor. But was that really enough? Freddy had a number of smaller secrets he could share, sure, but that wasn¡¯t what Thor was asking for. He needed to share something consequential. He either needed to open up about his spirit abilities, his unique affinity¡­ or his talent. It wasn¡¯t like Thor could take any of these things away from him. But that didn¡¯t mean that sharing them was a simple matter. Be it his current capabilities, ties to his past, or the trajectory of his future growth, all of those were sensitive bits of information that he couldn¡¯t afford to release to the world at large. If the Gems knew he could summon Bloodshed, they¡¯d do anything to kill him and ensure he couldn¡¯t use that power against them. If Strata knew of 1% Lifesteal, they¡¯d expend a huge amount of their resources to capture him and use him as a living organ farm. And if any of the local powers knew he had a unique affinity, they¡¯d probably come together to kill him before he had a chance to grow. While Freddy still didn¡¯t have a proper use for perished water, it was still a unique affinity¡ªthere was no way it wouldn¡¯t eventually become a key part of his power. While Thor didn¡¯t phrase it like that, having access to even one of these secrets would make it so that Freddy couldn¡¯t betray him. With the man¡¯s character, he knew that Thor would only share this information if Freddy outright betrayed them, and he most definitely wouldn¡¯t act on it out of personal interest. But it was still a vulnerability Freddy wasn¡¯t comfortable having. He mulled over it for a while as Thor patiently waited for Freddy to make his decision. Eventually, the man sighed and got up. ¡°Follow me.¡± Freddy was confused, but he didn¡¯t ask any questions. He followed after Thor. They made turn after turn, eventually reaching a door. After using a key to unlock it, Thor stepped inside, inviting Freddy in. This was the entrance to the private area of their headquarters. Freddy got a brief glimpse of Thor¡¯s private training area, but this clearly wasn¡¯t the thing Thor was aiming to show him. Instead, they reached the other end of this part of the facility. There, Thor unlocked another door. This door was concealed much better than the previous one. As soon as Thor opened the door, Freddy knew he was about to be showed something special. The entrance took them directly to a cavern. The path was rough¡ªthe caverns were barely tamed. Once there, it didn¡¯t take them long to reach their goal. As soon as Freddy saw it, his jaw dropped. There was a passage. A portal, the size of a standard double door sat in the lonely corner of a cave, revealing a heavily-forested area behind it. ¡°Well¡­ what do you think?¡± Thor asked with a wide grin. ¡°Nobody knows about this baby other than me and Travis.¡± ¡°You¡­¡± Freddy couldn¡¯t even form a sentence. If they were somewhere where ether was abundant, this would hardly be a big deal. Passages weren¡¯t that rare. But in Repentawa, this was massive. As in ¡®the empire would hang Thor by the balls if they knew he was hiding this¡¯ kind of deal. Not only that, but the other factions would lose their minds if they knew about this. What kind of advantage was it to have a damn passage in your basement? Thor snickered. ¡°This thing appeared after I built the headquarters. If I had reported it to the empire, they would have paid me handsomely for the property, but¡­ where¡¯s the fun in that?¡± ¡°You¡¯re insane,¡± Freddy finally managed. ¡°I know. But hey, you can¡¯t get anywhere in this damn world without being a bit crazy.¡± ¡°You sure you want me to know about this?¡± ¡°Too late for regrets now!¡± For a long moment, Freddy simply stood there, speechless. Something cold and hard was wrapped around his heart. He¡¯d been working on thawing that. He¡¯d been working on opening up even a little bit. He could see that Thor was nervous. It was understandable. The man had taken a huge gamble. He must be desperate. If Freddy was a piece of shit, he¡¯d be in the perfect position to ruin the man¡¯s life and destroy everything he¡¯d been working towards. Seeing someone offer him such a chance made even his ice block of a heart show the tiniest of cracks. Before he even realized he made the decision, he opened his mouth. ¡°My talent is very special,¡± he said. Thor immediately jolted to attention and turned to face him. ¡°When I do damage to living things, I can absorb their life force to heal myself.¡± ¡°A lifesteal type talent, huh?¡± Thor said hesitantly. It was clear as day that he was a bit disappointed. This was hardly some grand, unspeakable secret. It wasn¡¯t like talents like that were unheard of. But then the man seemed to realize something. ¡°Wait, it¡¯s not strength¡­?¡± he muttered under his breath. Snorting, Freddy continued. ¡°It works against anything living. Plants, animals, humans, monsters, hell, it works on fruit and vegetables as long as they''re fresh. The quality of the healing also adapts to my current needs. If I have a gaping wound, it¡¯ll first stop bleeding, then it will be sealed, then it will regenerate to natural-quality healing standard; the quality of the healing will continue going up until I¡¯m perfectly healed.¡± Thor scowled. ¡°You don¡¯t mean¡­¡± ¡°Yup.¡± Freddy grinned. ¡°All the way up to supreme quality.¡± Chapter 135 - The Idol Freddy watched Thor¡¯s reaction. Just judging by the man¡¯s facial expressions, it was obvious in just what order the pieces were setting. The man¡¯s eyes flashed with shock when he realized that, because Freddy¡¯s talent works on plants, he had access to practically infinite supreme-quality healing. Then his eyes shot wide open as he realized the implications this had for training and tempering. Next, he frowned as he finally concluded that this made Freddy a walking organ printer, and that this secret wasn¡¯t one he could give away lightly to others. An appreciative, satisfied smile settled on his lips, and then quickly morphed into a devious grin as he started opening his mouth. Freddy knew exactly what the man was going to say, so he beat him to the punch, ¡°Sure hope Strata doesn¡¯t find out.¡± ¡°Fuck!¡± Thor shouted. ¡°You knew I was gonna make that joke, didn¡¯t you?¡± Freddy chuckled. Thor shook his head. ¡°Holy shit, though. Yeah, uh¡­¡± He offered Freddy a handshake. ¡°Grats. You have one of the¡­ No, actually, you just have the most bizarre talent I¡¯ve ever heard of in my life.¡± Freddy accepted the handshake with a rueful smile. ¡°Thank you, thank you.¡± ¡°But fuck, man. I¡¯m so confused,¡± Thor declared. ¡°I was convinced you had to have a strength-boosting or at least some sort of physique-altering talent. How the fuck are you so strong?¡± ¡°A lot of steroids.¡± Thor cooed and, for a moment, appeared to be satisfied by the explanation, but his expression froze soon after and he frowned, quirking an eyebrow. ¡°No,¡± he simply said. ¡°There¡¯s no way it¡¯s just that.¡± ¡°Hmmm?¡± ¡°Look¡­ uh¡­ a lot of people use steroids. Hell, even I use ¡®em. They don¡¯t have a huge impact on your health when you¡¯re a three-star. But even if you¡¯ve blasted a ton of potent stuff, that still isn¡¯t enough to get you this far. In fact, given what I¡¯ve seen of you, I¡¯m not confident I¡¯m stronger than you. And I¡¯m a peak three-star, dude. Without a dedicated talent, you really shouldn¡¯t be anywhere near as strong as I am.¡± ¡°Well it wasn¡¯t only steroids,¡± Freddy said. ¡°I¡¯ve also had my body reformed by a life-affinity arch to optimize it.¡± ¡°That¡­ Wow¡­ That must have hurt like a motherfucker. But even then, I don¡¯t think that¡¯s enough.¡± ¡°I also trained like a lunatic?¡± Freddy added with a quizzical tone, almost as if he were uncertain as to whether that was enough to make a difference. ¡°With my talent, I can train my whole body several times in just a single day. I don¡¯t have to wait for my muscles to recover or even put much care into how I train. The type of things I did to myself would have undoubtedly ruined anyone else¡¯s body for good.¡± ¡°No, even then,¡± Thor said with a serious expression. His eyes flashed as he seemingly remembered something. ¡°Were you particularly strong before you became an arch?¡± ¡°Nope. Not in the slightest,¡± Freddy declared. ¡°In fact, I was weak and sickly.¡± ¡°Oh come on!¡± Thor shouted. ¡°You¡¯re just pulling my leg at this point.¡± ¡°What? Why would I lie to you about this?¡± ¡°Look, this can only be described in terms of natural talent. And I¡¯m not talking a bit of natural talent, either,¡± Thor declared. ¡°You have an insanely high-grade physique. Like, really high-grade. Are you familiar with the empire¡¯s physique grading system?¡± Freddy squinted and then gestured with a so-so motion. He¡¯d heard of it, and was vaguely familiar with the concept, but he didn¡¯t know exactly how it worked. When someone used the word ¡°talent,¡± they were usually referring to prime talents¡ªthe special powers granted by prime vestiges. But there was also natural talent, which simply referred to how naturally gifted people were at different aspects. Even between mortals, some people could simply be considered gifted. Some people were naturally stronger and had a higher ceiling for muscle growth. Others were naturally more intelligent. Some people learned more easily, some were better at memorizing things, some had higher pain tolerance¡ªand these differences weren¡¯t small, either. When one became an archhuman, these differences became even more exaggerated. The potential of an archhuman used this ¡°natural talent¡± as a foundation. All sorts of things could be predicted about a person¡¯s growth by judging their natural talent while they were still mortals. This even included aptitude for essence manipulation. Freddy was familiar with the fact that many clans and organisations used these variables to pick the optimal talent for their members. Most notably, Sophia¡¯s cult took this to a ridiculous extreme, forcing their members to remain as mortals well into their adult life to find the most suitable path for them. As for himself, Freddy had never measured any of this, but he had guesses about his natural aptitudes. He was pretty talented at essence manipulation and his physique was rather shit. He was more suitable to brute force paths than delicate strategic fighting. If he had to judge what kind of talent would be best for him with what he knew of himself at that moment, he¡¯d be best suited for the fire affinity with a focus on essence manipulation or some form of damage-boosting talent. Basically, mindlessly blowing shit up would have suited him perfectly. But given what Thor was saying, this guess couldn¡¯t be correct. At least not in regards to his physique. But it couldn¡¯t be wrong, either. Sure, Freddy hadn¡¯t really eaten well and he certainly hadn¡¯t trained as a mortal, but even as a little kid, he was always scrawny, weak, and fragile. There was no way he was naturally talented at that¡­ Unless something had changed. Thor hummed. ¡°Are you familiar with what the different grades represent?¡± ¡°No,¡± Freddy said. ¡°I do know that there are a few and that they start at grade 0, but as for what that means, I am clueless.¡± Thor nodded and began his explanation. ¡°When it comes to grading people¡¯s physiques, there are several subcategories, such as for strength, endurance, toughness, recovery, and so on, as well as a main grade to determine the overall quality of one¡¯s physique. ¡°The ratings start with grade 0. This isn¡¯t exactly a precise grading. It simply means that someone isn¡¯t particularly talented. You can see this as anything average or below. Then we have grade 1. Grade 1 represents people who are talented, but not exceptionally so. Maybe they excel at one thing while sucking at others or are just well-rounded without any clear weaknesses. Still, this can hardly be considered exceptional. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. ¡°Then we have grade 2. This is where the real talents are. Anyone with a grade 2 physique can be considered suited for physical combat. Just for reference, this includes less than 3% of the total population. Only one of every thirty people. After this, we have grade 3. Grade 3 is considered exceptional. These are people who are born to fight with their bodies. ¡°I¡¯m not exactly sure how rare this grade is, but it¡¯s much, much rarer than grade 2. If you fight 500 people, you still might not encounter someone this talented. And then we have grade 4. This is generally considered to be the apex of physical talent. During the Pre-Rift Era, these people would have been world-class athletes, era-defining champions of whatever sports they trained in.¡± Freddy listened and nodded. ¡°And what about me?¡± Thor shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s impossible to tell at this point. Unless I had a magical tool that could revert you back in time before you became an arch, we can only really judge how far you¡¯ve pushed that talent, but not how great it was originally.¡± Freddy quirked an eyebrow. ¡°You mean to say my talent has changed?¡± ¡°Well it obviously has.¡± He scowled. ¡°Isn¡¯t the defining feature of natural talent that it¡¯s pretty much set in stone?¡± ¡°Not really,¡± Thor said, snorting. ¡°There¡¯s no easy way to grow your talent, granted, but yes. It can be done. Natural talent is just a way to estimate the ceiling of your abilities. Anything that moves that ceiling higher counts as an upgrade. ¡°For example, from what you¡¯ve told me so far, you¡¯ve had your body reformed. I¡¯m assuming that included stuff like thickening your bones, rebalancing your muscles, and altering your tendon insertions. That has obviously moved your ceiling up.¡± ¡°But you¡¯re assuming there¡¯s more to it than that?¡± ¡°Not assuming¡ªI¡¯m certain of it. You¡¯ve either consumed some sort of ridiculous treasure or¡­¡± The man frowned and cupped his chin. ¡°Huh. How were your achievements at the first star? If you had gathered a lot of latent aura, that could have definitely given your physique an upgrade.¡± Freddy was about to answer, but then, he froze. His achievements at the first star? Oh, he had some achievements, alright. Suddenly, he remembered seeing himself in the mirror for the first time after ascending to the second star. Just the difference in his looks was already incredible, and admittedly, he had definitely noticed that his physical capabilities were out of the ordinary, even before Sophia remodeled his body. ¡°Oh, yeah, that¡¯s definitely it.¡± ¡°Hmm? What did you do?¡± Freddy chuckled and tapped Thor on the shoulder. ¡°Let¡¯s just say I did some crazy stuff back then.¡± ¡°Hmmm!?¡± Thor¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°What kind of stuff could you have possibly done to make a sickly body capable of this!?¡± ¡°Naw, man, I think we¡¯ve shared enough secrets for today!¡± ¡°You can¡¯t do this to me,¡± Thor said pleadingly. ¡°The curiosity is gonna kill me.¡± Freddy grinned. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t believe me even if I told you. Anyway, this talent talk aside, what would you grade my physique as it is right now?¡± Thor contemplated. ¡°I don¡¯t know. We¡¯d have to do some measurements to determine this. If you¡¯re willing, we can do so tomorrow.¡± ¡°Sure thing,¡± Freddy said with a laugh. ¡°I¡¯m pretty tired from all that happened today. I think tomorrow is fine.¡± After their conversation, they left the caverns with the hidden passage. Freddy visited Lucas and his mother, and Lucas again asked for help with moving their things. This time, Lucas came with him. The boy still looked a bit pale, but he was mostly fine. They reached the apartment and slowly started packing the things. Freddy hadn¡¯t really noticed it, but the two of them had slowly left a notable mark. Their magnets were on his fridge. Their footwear was in the shoe cabinet. Their jackets were hanging in the hallway. There were many small touches their presence had left on his living space. Freddy ignored the bubbling feeling churning in his gut. ¡°Hey,¡± Lucas called. ¡°I think that¡¯s about it.¡± ¡°What about the fridge magnets?¡± Freddy asked. ¡°Also, you forgot to take those plants your mother bought. And that strange doll on the living room table. Oh, and the decorations in the kitchen. And that shit in the toilet¡ªman, she¡¯s been buying a lot of random crap.¡± Lucas chuckled. ¡°It kept her mind off of¡­ you know. Anyway, just keep that stuff. Or throw it away. Given her habits we won¡¯t be lacking random crap around the house.¡± Freddy paused for a moment. ¡°Sure¡­ Sure¡­ I¡¯ll probably throw it away later.¡± Lucas nodded. Lucas and his mother didn¡¯t have many things, so it only took a single trip to take everything to Valhalla. The two of them offloaded the stuff they brought, and through the whole ordeal, Hellen shot Freddy nasty looks. He tried to ignore her, but deep down, he couldn¡¯t stop her judgment from striking at his core. Just as Freddy was about to leave, Lucas called for him. ¡°Hey¡­ can I talk to you for a second?¡± Freddy hesitated. He slowly nodded, and the two of them walked outside into the hallway of the building. Lucas slowly closed the door. He turned around and appeared to freeze. ¡°I¡­¡± he tried, but his words failed him. Freddy remained silent, waiting. The boy¡¯s mouth quivered, and he reflexively raised his hand toward the scar still visible on his neck. ¡°I¡­ I nearly died today,¡± he whispered, visibly stiffening as he thought back to what happened. A faint sheen of prespiration coated his forehead, and he breathed a bit heavily. His hand was shaking a bit as he slowly put it down. Freddy mouth turned downwards. ¡°I¡¯m sorry about what happened,¡± he said, a pained look flashing through his eyes. ¡°I was being an idiot. I really shouldn¡¯t have played with your life like that. I¡¯m really, really sorry.¡± The silence between them continued. Lucas looked like he was about to break down, but a resolved look crossed his eyes. He took a deep breath and calmed himself down. ¡°My life¡­ I¡¯ve always believed my life would be a miserable one. To be honest, I expected to die young.¡± He said with a pained chuckle. ¡°This sucks,¡± he said, his eyes tearing up. ¡°What happened today really sucks.¡± Then he looked up to meet Freddy¡¯s eyes. ¡°But it¡¯s worth it.¡± A resolved look crossed Lucas¡¯s eye, and the boy appeared to straighten his back slightly. ¡°You¡¯ve changed my life,¡± he said, clenching his jaw. ¡°Because of your help, I am an archhuman. Because of you, I have a girlfriend. Because of you, I have the means to help my mother overcome her addiction. Because of you, I have a future.¡± Freddy was stunned by those words. Then, he laughed cynically. ¡°Because of me, you nearly died.¡± ¡°No. Because of you, I get to live.¡± ¡°You¡¯re giving me too much credit here,¡± Freddy said. ¡°From the very start, I¡¯ve only been acting on selfish desires. If it weren¡¯t for dumb luck, those selfish desires would have killed you. Killed you, you hear me? You would have died.¡± An inexplicable anger flared in his heart. ¡°I get why you¡¯re thankful to me, but don¡¯t¡­ Don¡¯t do this. I¡¯m a piece of shit, Lucas. ¡°I might have been a helpful piece of shit to you, but you¡¯re an exception to the rule. If you want to thank someone, thank yourself for being lucky. I¡¯ll see you around,¡± he said as he turned around and quickly walked away. ¡°Wait!¡± Lucas called, but Freddy kept walking, not pausing for even a second. He walked outside without greeting anyone, sat on his bike, and drove back to his building. There, he took the elevator up and entered his apartment, slamming the door on his way in. It was deathly silent. As he walked forward, he could hear his footsteps echoing through the empty space. He walked into the living room. He immediately spotted the few trinkets those two had left behind. The sight of it disgusted him. He collected one thing after another and put it all in a trash bag. Just as he was about to leave the apartment, he felt his body go numb, and the bag fell out of his grasp. That kid was so grateful to him. How would he react if he knew where the prime he was given came from? How would he react if he knew his girlfriend was someone Freddy was intending to profit off of? And how would he react if he knew that, from the very moment the two of them had met, Freddy was only helping him to raise a useful pawn? How would he react if he knew that Freddy had never truly considered the consequences his actions would have? Lucas was stuck with Valhalla. A faction that was the target of numerous influences. A group of people with the most uncertain future out of anyone in Repentawa. ¡°Really¡­ ¡®piece of shit¡¯ is underselling it.¡± He laughed as he reached down to pick up the bag of items. But his grip was weak. His hand was shaking. He couldn¡¯t bring himself to throw it all away. It had been so long since he¡¯d lived with anyone that he¡¯d forgotten what kind of warmth others could bring into his life. But he didn¡¯t deserve this. Not with the kind of person he was. Yet he couldn¡¯t bring himself to cast it all away. Suddenly, he felt his legs grow numb. He fell to his knees. With a guilty scowl, he pulled the bag of items into his grasp and clutched it tightly. The bone-piercing cold encroached upon him, wrapping him into a tight cocoon of misery. The pitter-patter of his tears hitting the plastic bag and his choked sobs echoed through the empty hallway. Chapter 136 - Total Mess In the private section of Valhalla¡¯s headquarters, a shirtless Freddy stood in the middle of a testing chamber. From impact alloy targets to dummies to other training equipment, this was the most richly equipped training room he¡¯d ever seen. Thor finally entered the room after leaving to fetch something and approached him. ¡°How are you feeling today?¡± ¡°I¡¯m in peak condition,¡± Freddy said. ¡°As always.¡± ¡°Man, I sure am jealous,¡± Thor said jokingly. ¡°Anyway, time to do some testing. Let¡¯s see what you can do.¡± ¡°What are we starting with?¡± Thor looked hesitant for a moment. ¡°If you don¡¯t mind, I¡¯d like to see your talent in action. Of course, if you don¡¯t feel like hurting yourself just to¡ª¡± ¡°Nah, don¡¯t worry. I¡¯m cool with that.¡± ¡°Okay. Good.¡± The man nodded. ¡°Well uh¡­¡±¡ªhe clapped his hands¡ª¡±let¡¯s get started then! I¡¯ll let you choose how you want to demonstrate your talent. As long as I can see it in action, I¡¯ll be satisfied.¡± Freddy nodded and thought for a moment. ¡°Oh, and yeah,¡± Thor said suddenly. ¡°Did you bring like uh¡­ a bag of fruit? A caged animal? Like how are we gonna do this? I¡¯m assuming you have a method¡­?¡± ¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± Freddy said. ¡°I have a method, alright.¡± He grinned widely and lifted his hand. With a puff of air, a large, wriggling mass of flesh appeared in his grasp. ¡°What the fuck is that?¡± Thor asked. Then, his eyes widened. ¡°A captured life spark, I see¡­ Damn. How did you get your hands on one?¡± ¡°Long story,¡± Freddy said. He sat down and put the spark on the ground before him. ¡°Do you have a sword? Give me something heavy.¡± Thor quirked an eyebrow but fulfilled the request regardless. He walked over to the corner, where a large rack of all sorts of weapons was located. He grabbed a giant saber and walked back, handing it to Freddy. ¡°Thank you,¡± Freddy said as he immediately swung the weapon down and cut off his right hand. Or he tried to. But his toughness wasn¡¯t just for show. The saber had embedded into his bone, but his internal toughness had prevented it from cleaving through the whole wrist. ¡°Jesus!¡± Thor shouted. ¡°You don¡¯t have to go that far!¡± ¡°Relax,¡± he said as he focused. ¡°If I¡¯m gonna show you my talent, I¡¯m gonna show you all it can do.¡± Then, he swung the saber again, striking the same spot. Like a butcher, he chopped his own hand off, one determined swing at a time. The pain was something the average person would not be able to stand. He felt the nerves in his carpal tunnel send waves of agony as he slowly worked through them, one slow chop at a time. Yet he showed no reaction. Meanwhile, Thor looked on nervously, clearly disturbed by the sight. Once the hand was finally lopped off, Freddy used his blood essence to stop the bleeding. The blood affinity had access to Halt Bleeding, a minimal-quality healing ability that was quite powerful for anyone who didn¡¯t have a talent like Freddy¡¯s. But for him, it wasn¡¯t a worthwhile investment of time and effort. After stopping the bleeding, he raised the saber again and cut his arm from the base of his forearm upwards. This was an important addition to the injury. While the cut-off arm would showcase his ability to regrow limbs, the laceration would showcase his rapid ability to seal wounds. He grabbed the severed hand and simply threw it on the spark of undeath, which proceeded to greedily suck it in and started digesting it. Thor appeared alarmed for a moment. After all, if one lost their limb, reattaching the original was usually the best way to fix the problem. But clearly, Freddy wasn¡¯t about to show him that. Gore Knuckles appeared on Freddy¡¯s left fist, and he brought them down on the spark. Instantly, the pulse of healing started fusing the cut of his forearm together. The second punch was enough to completely close the wound with raw, pink tissue. Thor watched with fascination as Freddy¡¯s wounds slowly vanished. The cut on his forearm was brought to natural-quality healing at an incredible speed. That was already capable of restoring the arm¡¯s functionality enough to keep going in a fight. While it was nowhere near a perfect heal, there was a tremendous value in being capable of quickly patching up a nasty injury. But, of course, the recovery didn¡¯t stop there. As soon as the forearm wound was brought up to supernatural-quality healing, the healing rate drastically slowed down, and Freddy¡¯s hand started growing back from the cut-off stump. It took a long time for the healing to finish. No matter how good the healing quality was, it didn¡¯t change the fact that he only absorbed 1% of the life force his attacks dissipated. It took Freddy nearly an hour of beating the spark to finally finish the healing. By then, Thor already looked numb from the shock. ¡°Wow¡­ Uh¡­ Shit, man, that is one hell of a talent. And you seemed to be pretty used to, uhm¡­ using it.¡± Freddy chuckled, clenching his fist again to check if anything was wrong with it. It seemed to be perfectly healed. ¡°Yeah. I¡¯m super happy to have it. Anyway, how do you rate my healing abilities?¡± he asked with a grin. Thor snorted. ¡°What do you think? It does take a bit of time to fully heal, but that¡¯s hardly a problem. Your healing definitely deserves a perfect score, dude. Congratulations.¡± ¡°Thank you, good sir. So, what are we testing next?¡± ¡°Hmm¡­¡± Thor contemplated. ¡°How confident are you in your toughness? You have the Turbulent Waters tempering technique, right?¡± ¡°Nope. Hundred Wet Hells.¡± Thor¡¯s eyebrows jumped. ¡°Damn. Well, it makes sense. And yeah, that should definitely put you up there in toughness. How far along is it?¡± ¡°It¡¯s at stage 1¡ª81%.¡± ¡°That¡¯s all?¡± Thor asked. ¡°It should already be at stage two if you¡¯re a peak two-star. Have you been slacking?¡± ¡°Yeah, ¡®bout that¡­¡± Freddy sucked air through his teeth. ¡°I didn¡¯t know what I was doing back when I upgraded the ability, and I used a rather violent concept.¡± ¡°Oh¡­ Oh,¡± Thor said with a hint of concern. ¡°That is¡­ yeah, definitely not what you¡¯re supposed to do. But¡­ how violent are we talking?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll show you,¡± Freddy said as he closed his eyes. ¡°Show me? How are you gonna show me¡ª¡± Suddenly, Freddy¡¯s entire body began wriggling. The water beneath his skin roiled like a sea in a thunderstorm, making his entire skin appear bruised. He bled through his eyes, and fingernails, from the inside of his mouth, his nose, ears¡ªhis entire skin was flushed with a bloodstained sheen of liquid that was brutally forced out through his pores. This was after only a few seconds of using the tempering ability. He interrupted it and gulped a few times, reaching for the spark to recover from the damage that just did to him. ¡°How¡¯s that for violent?¡± he asked snarkily. Thor stared at him, his jaw hanging wide open. ¡°Holy fucking shit. That would definitely kill your average person. Not to even mention the accumulating injuries that would gather with time.¡± ¡°Yup. I¡¯ve even decided it was worth renaming it to Thousand Wet Hells at stage 1.¡± ¡°A worthy name.¡± A glint of excitement flashed in Thor¡¯s eyes. ¡°That must mean you¡¯re pretty damn tough, though, no?¡±Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. Freddy snickered. ¡°Feel free to punch me if you want to find out.¡± ¡°You sure about that? Because I can hit pretty damn hard.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry about me. I¡¯m undead; unless you crush my skull, you won¡¯t be able to kill me.¡± ¡°I see¡­ Wait¡±¡ªhe froze¡ª¡°I didn¡¯t know you had the death affinity.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t.¡± ¡°Oh, and you¡¯re just¡ªyou know what, forget it. With that freaky talent of yours, anything seems to be possible.¡± They both chuckled. Thor suddenly got serious and approached Freddy. Freddy got up and puffed his chest out. He gestured with his right hand, vaguely hinting at his entire torso. ¡°Hit wherever you think it¡¯ll hurt the most.¡± Thor smirked. ¡°I¡¯ll start off light.¡± Then, before Freddy could react, the man¡¯s whole body flashed with lightning, and his fist flew at Freddy¡¯s stomach at such speed he couldn¡¯t have even seen it move had it not been glowing with the electric light. Thor¡¯s fist sank half a foot into Freddy¡¯s gut, sending a shockwave throughout the whole body and sending him flying back, tumbling across the ground until he hit the impact alloy and left a visible dent in it. He slowly peeled off the alloy and slumped to the ground. ¡°Urgh, you really didn¡¯t hold back, did you, you bastard!?¡± Freddy eked out as he coughed a mouthful of blood and got back up to his feet. His stomach had a pretty large dent, and black, lightning-shaped burn marks spread across his entire torso. There was even some smoke rising from the skin on his navel. However, despite the massive injury, Freddy was able to stand upright without even wobbling. Thor chuckled numbly, clearly more than a bit surprised by how Freddy handled that punch. ¡°Well I¡¯ll be fucking damned,¡± he said. ¡°With toughness like that, you¡¯d give even people with a dedicated talent a run for their money. Also, you¡¯re damn heavy. Let me guess, Abyssal Depths?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± Freddy said as he extracted the spark again and started beating it to heal from the punch. Thor groaned. ¡°I hate that technique. Just for the record, I think it¡¯s probably one of the worst tempering techniques in existence. The more you grow it, the slower you become.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not that bad,¡± Freddy said somewhat defensively. ¡°It makes it harder to throw me around, and it also gives my blows quite a bit of weight.¡± ¡°Yeah, but I mean¡­¡± Thor scowled. ¡°It¡¯s one of those tempering techniques that needs support to work properly. And while I might be a bit biased, I wouldn¡¯t trade speed for anything.¡± ¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± Freddy said somewhat dismissively. While he respected Thor¡¯s opinion, Abyssal Depths wasn¡¯t an ability that deserved such disrespect. Besides, the clunkiness due to the added body mass wouldn¡¯t be a problem forever. With every next star, he could ignore external forces more and more. Stuff like inertia and the so-called ¡°Newton¡¯s third law¡± become less rules and more suggestions. Such was the nature of ascending. Thor scoffed and shook his head. ¡°Anyway, yeah, toughness, uh¡­ very good!¡± he said with two thumbs up. ¡°Bring that ability up to stage 4, and you¡¯ll become a diamond.¡± Freddy chuckled. ¡°I think my whole body might blow up next time if I upgrade it like this again. So yeah, I¡¯ll have to think about that one. So, strength next?¡± ¡°Sure, sure.¡± They went to a separate room with all the gym equipment. Thor decided to test him on several different machines and contraptions. Thor¡¯s original estimate that Freddy was ¡°a bit stronger than him¡± became almost embarrassing when the true difference between them was finally demonstrated. Freddy could lift a ridiculous amount of weight. In fact, he was 30 to 40 percent stronger than Thor on average. By the end of their testing, Thor appeared genuinely shaken. ¡°This is seriously insane¡­ At this point, I¡­ I actually have no clue how you could have possibly achieved strength like this.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know, either. I guess my hard work paid off,¡± Freddy joked. ¡°Should we test endurance next?¡± Thor hesitated for a moment and then finally said. ¡°No, I don¡¯t think there¡¯s a need for that. I¡¯ll just assume you¡¯re a total monster in that, too, and save us both the time it would take to measure it.¡± ¡°Man, you¡¯ve really inflated my ego today.¡± ¡°You deserve to be a bit arrogant,¡± Thor said with a serious expression. ¡°While there are certainly many who could beat you in a fight at your level, that is mostly just those who can exploit your weaknesses and neuter your strengths. But among people with a similar skill set, at least regarding raw power, I¡­ I would be surprised if there were more than ten people in the whole empire who could stand up to you.¡± Freddy¡¯s eyes flashed wide open at that. ¡°There¡¯s no way that¡¯s true.¡± ¡°It is, man. Seriously. You¡¯re a fucking monster. Anyway, uh¡­ we¡¯ve tested your physique. Now, if you¡¯re willing, I¡¯d also like to see your abilities.¡± Freddy looked hesitant for a moment, but Thor raised a hand. ¡°Hold up. I¡¯m not going to force you into anything. But, for better or worse, I am a three-star. Peak three-star. I have a lot of experience. I can help you out a lot more if I know where your strengths and weaknesses lie. If you don¡¯t trust me enough to show me that, I¡¯ll let you simply train by yourself.¡± The man really had a way with words. Freddy¡¯s reluctance couldn¡¯t last long when faced with someone who just seemed so genuine. Fuck it, he thought. He would keep Leviathan¡¯s Fury, Bloodshed, and his unique affinity a secret. For now. But there really wasn¡¯t much of a reason to hide everything else. Hell, he had already revealed quite a bit, and if they kept fighting side by side, his skills wouldn¡¯t remain a secret for long. Sighing, he nodded. ¡°Give me a piece of paper. I¡¯ll write down the details of my abilities.¡± Thor¡¯s eyebrows jumped. ¡°Really? I mean yeah, that would definitely be the most effective way to show me what you can do. But are you comfortable with that?¡± Freddy nodded. ¡°Sure. I trust you.¡± Thor smiled and pulled out a piece of paper from his storage ring. ¡°Here you go. Oh, and here¡¯s a pen, too.¡± ¡°Thanks.¡± He chuckled. Freddy proceeded to write down the details of most of his abilities. Naturally, he kept the spirit abilities and perished water a secret, but everything else was laid out in the open. He also elaborated on which concepts he used to upgrade which ability and wrote a brief description of how he thought Adaptive Water Body worked. He slowly, gingerly handed Thor the paper, and the man excitedly took a look at it. Thor¡¯s excited expression instantly turned into a look of pure confusion. ¡°What the fuck?¡± he muttered. ¡°Is this a joke?¡± Freddy nodded. ¡°Something wrong?¡± ¡°Uh¡­ Where do I even begin? First, Purifying Crimson Spring? I mean, it¡¯s not a horrible choice, but¡­ oh, I see, your Absorb Blood is bizarrely flexible. Yeah, makes sense with your talent, but still¡­ a bit of a fringe choice; not one I would have gone for. Also, Flowing Strike with ¡®force transference¡¯ coupled with Abyssal Depths? That¡¯s insane. Also where the fuck is your generic tempering technique?¡± ¡°Water Body? It¡¯s Adaptive Water Body now.¡± ¡°Yeah, I see that,¡± Thor said sarcastically. ¡°But that¡¯s a grand concept upgrade. You do know you can remake your Water Body after doing that, right?¡± ¡°What¡¯s the point?¡± Freddy asked. ¡°Isn¡¯t it just for speedier recovery and some extra endurance?¡± Thor looked like those words struck him like a hammer. ¡°No? What? Are you dumb? I mean, yeah, that¡¯s a common path, sure, but you do know that Water Body can also go down a route of enhancing your internal water abilities, right?¡± Freddy stood there frozen for a moment. ¡°I¡­ I uh¡­¡± Now that he thought about it, he¡¯d never really read up much on what Water Body was supposed to do. All he knew about the ability was the vague few details he barely remembered from that one guide he read back at Madame¡¯s apartment. To be honest, he¡¯d kind of skipped over that section back then in favor of looking for more exciting stuff. Since he never felt like he was missing anything by omitting the ability, he had¡­ just¡­ kind of forgotten about it. He grimaced. ¡°Wow. I¡¯m a goddamn moron.¡± ¡°What? You really didn¡¯t know that? I¡­ Wha¡ª¡± Thor slammed the paper into his forehead. ¡°Did you sleep through whichever academy you went to?¡± ¡°Academy?¡± Freddy asked. ¡°I never went to an academy.¡± Thor froze. His eyes slowly moved down to the paper. ¡°I see¡­¡± The man clutched his forehead, simply unable to believe what he was looking at. ¡°Given your age, I had presumed you come from some sort of special background, but¡­ given what I¡¯m seeing here¡­ Look, I know you¡¯ve opened up to me with this. I know you¡¯ve shared some very sensitive information. I appreciate that and am glad you can trust me like that. ¡°But this is, without doubt, a garbage build. Half of your synergies look like they were devised by a lunatic, while much of everything else is just all over the place. There are so many nonsense details in this. There is so much stuff missing. And if I¡¯m being honest, your abilities are very underdeveloped for a peak two-star.¡± He looked Freddy in the eye. ¡°Freddy¡­ I¡¯m almost scared to ask, but¡­ how long have you been an archhuman?¡± Freddy knew that he didn¡¯t necessarily have to answer this question. But when put on the spot like this, he buckled. ¡°A bit over two years¡­¡± Thor froze, mouth agape. ¡°Two¡­ Two years, huh? Two years, I see. Two years!? Two!? Years!? Two¡ªyears!?¡± He slumped and grabbed his forehead. ¡°Two years, he says¡­ Hah. Honestly, if it was anyone else telling me this, I¡¯d assume they¡¯re lying. But coming from you¡­¡± He blew air through pursed lips and looked over the paper. ¡°You¡¯re gonna need some help shoring these abilities up, my guy. This is a crisis.¡± ¡°Yeah, I know,¡± Freddy said, slumping and sighing. ¡°I just never had any help along the way. Well¡­ not professional help, at least. You know, I think I did a pretty decent job seeing I did everything myself¡­¡± ¡°Well¡­¡± Thor hummed, cupping his bearded chin. ¡°I see that your blood abilities are much better thought out, even if you could use a few extra weapons.¡± Freddy was going to protest that, but he remained quiet. Truthfully, he still didn¡¯t think himself much of a weapons guy, but with Thor¡¯s help, he might just find something that suited him. ¡°Man¡­¡± Thor said, snickering to himself. ¡°I just can¡¯t believe you¡¯re so effective with just this. Literally, I don¡¯t believe it. You¡¯re hiding something else. But that¡¯s okay. There¡¯s plenty to work on with just this.¡± The two of them seemingly had the same thought at the same time. As they made eye contact, they knew they were on the same wavelength. If Freddy could be so effective with a messy build like this¡­ How effective would he be once he cleaned it up? Chapter 137 - Omnipotence Thor wasn¡¯t a soft man, and he certainly wasn¡¯t a gentle trainer. While the man¡¯s assistance was priceless, his methods were brutal, and he had no qualms about using force to reshape Freddy¡¯s foundation. Freddy was no stranger to pain. He could handle a beating or tough training. Yet, many of Thor''s suggestions and most of the man¡¯s guidance struck where it hurt the most¡ªFreddy¡¯s ego. He had truly believed that his build wasn¡¯t that bad. Even though Thor called it garbage, he still held on to the belief that it was mostly fine. But as the man had said, many things were missing, and many of his choices plainly made no sense. Thor didn¡¯t wait to start Freddy¡¯s training. As soon as they were done with their ¡°evaluations,¡± he jumped right into teaching him, even clearing his whole schedule for the day just to focus on Freddy. And the first thing the man took aim at was Flowing Strike. ¡°Okay.¡± Thor sighed as he looked over the paper Freddy had given him. ¡°What exactly was your logic in pairing Flowing Strike with Abyssal Depths, and then, on top of that, adding the concept of ¡®force transference¡¯ to the ability? There¡¯s no way the backlash doesn¡¯t hurt you, even with your toughness. If I¡¯m being honest, this seems like a very stupid idea to me.¡± Freddy chuckled. ¡°You know what they say; if it works, it ain¡¯t stupid.¡± ¡°Except it is stupid as fuck. Just because something works, it doesn¡¯t mean it isn¡¯t stupid. What differentiates clever and dumb isn¡¯t the outcome¡ªit¡¯s the investment of thought. And you¡¯re either poor of mind or a super shitty investor.¡± ¡°Okay, I admit that it does hurt me quite a bit. But the damage I can do with this ability is worth it. I mean¡­ I can always heal from the damage I take.¡± ¡°Yeah, but your healing is slow. Just because you can heal after a fight doesn¡¯t mean that taking unnecessary damage during a fight is a smart choice.¡± Freddy scowled momentarily. ¡°I¡­¡± He pinched his brow. ¡°I have an answer to this, but it¡¯s hard to explain. You¡¯re gonna have to give me a moment to think.¡± ¡°Sure, think all you want.¡± Thor smirked. ¡°I¡¯m waiting.¡± ¡°Okay¡­ I¡­ My reasoning,¡± he said, cupping his hands together as he slowly formed his argument, ¡°is hard to elaborate in words. But! I formed¡­ my intuition, I guess¡­ Or no, wait. I uh¡­¡± He paused for a moment to pick his wording. ¡°My understanding of ether grew alongside my understanding of what my talent allows me to get away with.¡± ¡°Yeah, okay¡­¡± Thor nodded. ¡°Go on.¡± ¡°Right. Uhm¡­ So, how do I put this? There are a lot of reasons why I think this approach is worth it. It is something unexpected¡ªwho would guess that their opponent can punch so hard they shatter their own arm into pieces? Also, the damage is¡­ significant. I can show you on the impact alloy if you want.¡± Thor slowly nodded. ¡°Okay, let¡¯s see it in action.¡± Freddy nodded and walked over to the metal column. Then, he activated Flowing Strike with only a single star and punched. The impact was enormous. Cracks and waves spread out like crazy. In turn, his arm only suffered relatively minor damage, with his veins turning blue and his wrist spraining a bit. With just a single star, he could almost handle using Flowing Strike without any backlash. Almost. And only for the time being. Thor scoffed. ¡°That¡¯s cute, but I still don¡¯t see the point. Also, if that¡¯s what your arm looks like after a one-star use of this combo, then honestly, I can¡¯t see why you¡¯d bother using this shit.¡± ¡°Come on!¡± Freddy urged. ¡°This can easily change the outcome of a difficult fight.¡± ¡°Sure it can.¡± Thor smirked. ¡°It can change the outcome by instantly making you lose.¡± ¡°If I use this ability, my opponent will lose harder than I will.¡± ¡°No, Freddy. If you land this ability, your opponent will lose. If you miss¡ª¡± ¡°No, I actually thought about this,¡± Freddy said with a raised hand. Then, he used Flowing Strike again. He swung his fist at the empty air. The force behind the ability quickly accumulated in his fist, making his nails bleed and bursting his veins before going the other way. And then, when it reached the other side, he stomped his foot on the ground, causing cracks to spread and offloading the force. ¡°There.¡± ¡°There? There. Really? That¡¯s your solution?¡± Thor blew air through pursed lips. ¡°So let¡¯s just say you aren¡¯t busy fending for your life because your opponent used your miss as a chance to counterattack and let¡¯s completely ignore that this still did a ton of damage to you, both to your arm and your legs; what will you do if someone restrains you the moment you use the ability?¡± ¡°That¡¯s unlikely to happen¡­¡± Thor¡¯s eyes shot wide open. ¡°Really!? Oh fucking really!? Did you really just say that!?¡± Freddy winced. Even he could tell that that was a stupid thing to say. It was more than possible for someone to restrain him just after using Flowing Strike. And if that happened, the ability would bounce from one extremity to another without the possibility of release. And if he couldn¡¯t move, he couldn¡¯t direct the force, either. It would damage his hands, feet, and even his head, possibly hurting his brain. Even if he was about to win the fight, this could instantly spell his doom. It wasn¡¯t just a weakness¡ªit was a critical exploit. One he had never realized existed. ¡°Unlikely to happen, he says,¡± Thor repeated with a dark chuckle. ¡°Don¡¯t be an idiot. If you have a weakness, you can¡¯t bank on it not being exploited.¡± ¡°I know¡­¡± ¡°You know!?¡± Thor shouted. ¡°You did not just say that. You know? You don¡¯t know shit. He knows, he says, look at Mr. Smartass over here! If you know, then why am I teaching you!?¡± ¡°I¡­ Okay, just¡­¡± ¡°Okay, just what? Let me set something straight¡ªyou don¡¯t know a single thing when we¡¯re training. When I say something, even if you knew it beforehand, you didn¡¯t. I don¡¯t want to hear the words ¡®I know¡¯ leave your mouth ever again! Are we clear?¡± ¡°Look¡ª¡± ¡°If we¡¯re not absolutely clear on this, then we can¡¯t continue,¡± Thor declared. ¡°If this is just going to be you correcting me all the time and acting like you¡¯re already a goddamn master of what I¡¯m trying to teach you, then get the fuck out and do things however you please!¡± ¡°Please just calm down¡­¡± ¡°Calm down? You do realize what we¡¯re doing here, right? This isn¡¯t a cute little group project where we tape folded paper into flowers. I¡¯m trying to turn you into an effective warrior. Because if you can¡¯t fight effectively, you die. And as one of the elite fighters of Valhalla, you have a responsibility to be as close to perfect as possible! Any mistake you make risks more than just your life alone. So I¡¯m not going to be considerate of your feelings or your damn ego!You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. ¡°And this¡±¡ªhe gestured at Freddy, the floor below him, and the damaged impact alloy¡ª¡±is a very stupid idea! To be entirely honest, I¡¯d prefer nothing more than to force you to remove Abyssal Depths and practice Flowing River instead. The only reason why I won¡¯t do that is because I understand that it¡¯s important to let people develop strategies they like. ¡°That being said, unless we can figure out a way to patch these weaknesses up, I¡¯ll still strongly suggest you undo Abyssal Depths. And I really hope you take my advice. Are we clear?¡± Freddy scowled. He opened his mouth to try to retort, but the warning behind Thor¡¯s glare made him swallow his words. He took a deep breath. ¡°I understand.¡± ¡°Good. Now, let¡¯s try to think of ways to remove these weaknesses. I already have a few ideas ready, but it¡¯s better for you to come up with solutions on your own. Give me your best ideas, and I¡¯ll tell you what will work and what won¡¯t.¡± Freddy tried focusing on a solution, but his mind felt hazy. A deep, suppressed anger was still bubbling in his gut, and if he was being honest, a spiteful sprout of hatred was growing in his heart. But he felt helpless and frustrated. He needed Thor¡¯s help. But after that beratement, he couldn¡¯t help but feel his opinion of the man turn for the worse. He knew it was just his ego receiving a beating, but he still couldn¡¯t help it. Freddy pulled the spark of undeath from his ring and sat down on the ground. While beating his meat, he used the soothing feeling to clear his mind. Once he was done, he felt clarity settle, and ideas started flowing. He needed either a way to offload the force into something or a way to cancel Flowing Strike while minimizing harm to himself. One by one, he delivered his ideas to Thor, who scrutinized and rejected most of them. The way Flowing Strike worked was by creating a ¡°wave¡± that moved through the water in his body. Like a wave inside a pool, when it reached a wall¡ªin this case, whatever limb he was striking with¡ªthe force had nowhere to go, and the wave would be forced to go in the other direction unless he offloaded the force with a strike. His first idea was to use a destructive counterforce to cancel the wave in his body. But this wasn¡¯t a good idea. Not only would it be difficult to pull off, but it would cost as much essence as Flowing Strike, and it would still cause great damage inside his body, even if it would be more evenly distributed. His next idea was to use his blood affinity to create some sort of object he could offload the force into. However, if he was restrained, he couldn¡¯t direct the force effectively enough to make this work. After that, he suggested using methods to perhaps break up the waves or slow them down, but both ideas were too expensive and inefficient. He fired off one idea after another, and with total, brutal honesty and in great detail, Thor explained why they wouldn¡¯t work. But hey, at least he wasn¡¯t being mean anymore. After much thinking, Freddy finally had a flash of inspiration. He got an idea that seemed excellent at first, then horrible on second thought, and then, on third thought, a bit uncertain. He looked at Thor. ¡°What if I were to use my blood affinity to create a bunch of small barriers that would slowly weaken the power of the wave as it moved through my body?¡± Thor¡¯s first reflex was to sneer, but then he frowned. ¡°Huh¡­ You know, this would be a horrible idea, but¡­ with your undeath, toughness, and ability to heal¡±¡ªhe shook his index finger¡ª¡±It might just work. Okay, let¡¯s try this one.¡± Freddy nodded. He used his blood affinity to quickly construct a prototype of the ability. It didn¡¯t take much time or effort. While he couldn¡¯t absorb blood after hardening it, this only counted for blood that was no longer attached to his body. His Gore Knuckles, for example, were still connected to his bloodstream even after hardening them. This allowed him to rehydrate the blood and suck it back into his body. A similar concept applied to all the blood inside him. If he wanted to, he could harden all the blood in his body and then rehydrate it. There were even some blood abilities that used this concept. But usually, they only involved hardening the blood inside the cardiovascular system. For this prototype to work, Freddy had to interrupt the waves as they moved through his intracellular and extracellular fluid. Meaning he had to force the blood out of his veins and into the rest of his tissue. He made the ability distribute blood all across his body, and then he used that blood to create small, prism-shaped obstacles the waves would run into. These obstacles would dissipate and redirect the wave, breaking the force up and distributing it through his body more evenly. The blood, however, was only partially hardened. After a few seconds, it would ¡°melt¡± again. It would still be stuck in his flesh. He couldn¡¯t avoid basically causing extremely complex internal bleeding through this method. And there was no easy way to undo it. But as Thor had said, with his powers, he could tolerate this. As soon as the shell became viable, he crystallized it and tried the ability in action. He immediately tested it with a double-star Flowing Strike. As soon as he used the prototype ability, he felt the force slowly dissipate. It still rattled his tissue and made his body grow numb, but it didn¡¯t actually cause much damage. A moment later, the blood softened again. It did, predictably, cause a lot of micro-tearing in his muscle tissue, but it wasn¡¯t to the point where this would be enough to take him out of a fight. ¡°Okay¡­¡± Thor said, nodding solemnly. ¡°While this is a bit of a rough implementation, I can see this being a viable solution to the problem. That being said, I¡¯m tasking you with meditating on the blood tablets in the library. This is a rather novel idea, so you¡¯ll have to find inspiration to improve it into something that doesn¡¯t suck.¡± Freddy nodded. He was given an hour to rest, recover his essence, and meditate some of the reflux essence away. Given his satellite, Freddy hadn¡¯t spent as much essence as Thor had presumed, and given Freddy¡¯s soul construct, he recovered his essence reserves quite quickly. Thor was understandably rattled by Freddy¡¯s quick recovery. Freddy decided not to hide either his satellite or his soul construct. ¡°Okay¡­¡± Thor muttered. ¡°What the fuck is it with you anymore? You¡¯re just cheating at this point.¡± Freddy chuckled. ¡°I was just pretty lucky with some things. Anyway, what¡¯s next?¡± ¡°Lucky¡­ Hah¡­ Lucky, he says. Damn right you were. Okay, so¡­ I see you¡¯re working on Hydraulic Throw?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°Why don¡¯t you crystallize it?¡± Thor asked. Freddy scowled. ¡°I don¡¯t have the ¡®precise direction¡¯ concept yet.¡± Thor simply stared at him for a moment and then broke into laughter. ¡°He doesn¡¯t have ¡®precise direction,¡¯ he says! Is that a joke?¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°Dude¡­ you don¡¯t have an essence-manipulation talent. Forget about it. ¡®Specific direction¡¯ is as accurate as you¡¯re going to get.¡± ¡°Whoa, whoa, whoa¡­¡± Freddy raised his hands. ¡°Are you telling me it¡¯s impossible to get ¡®precise direction¡¯ without an essence manipulation talent?¡± Thor looked at him with a deadpan expression. ¡°Yeah. What, did you think essence-manipulation talents were for show?¡± He sneered and shook his head. ¡°You¡¯re already as tough as someone with a defensive talent and as strong as someone with a strength talent. ¡°But even then, someone with a quality talent in either category will still have advantages you won¡¯t.¡± Thor¡¯s expression turned serious. ¡°Talents provide a unique, qualitative upgrade to a certain aspect of your power. There¡¯s a reason why so many factions stick to only using essence-manipulation talents for a chosen affinity. It¡¯s because, without it, their members wouldn¡¯t even be able to practice their most valuable abilities. ¡°To put it bluntly, without an essence-manipulation talent, you¡¯re blocked out of a huge number of advanced abilities. For good. There is no way to change this. Don¡¯t get me wrong, your talent is fantastic in many ways. But you seem to have gotten a bit too comfortable with the idea of competing with the advantages of other talents. But take my advice and forget about this one. It¡¯s plain impossible.¡± Freddy was stunned. It wasn¡¯t like he didn¡¯t know this already¡­ but Thor was right. There was no way for his talent to give him an edge here. But still, as he slowly came to terms with this, he felt¡­ crushed. It hit him a lot harder than he expected. Without realizing it, he had cultivated a feeling of omnipotence. And now, as that feeling started to fade, he felt vulnerable and weak. Indeed, there was no talent that could be good at everything. He would always have some weakness he couldn¡¯t do anything about. And that scared him. ¡°Is there really nothing I can do¡­¡± Freddy muttered with a distant look in his eyes. Thor appeared hesitant for a moment. The man could clearly see how rattled Freddy looked. He sighed and put a hand on Freddy¡¯s shoulder. ¡°There is really no way for you to perfect this rune, but there is a way to push it half a step forward.¡± Freddy perked up. ¡°There are certain potions that can slightly enhance your essence manipulation for a brief period. If you used them and then practiced the ability, you could develop a subrune that slightly improved your accuracy, but that subrune would only apply to a single weapon.¡± Thor peeked back at Freddy¡¯s ability sheet. ¡°Your Blood Javelin will be the only ability this would apply to, then. And even then, it still wouldn¡¯t be perfectly accurate. ¡°But these potions aren¡¯t cheap,¡± Thor added. ¡°If you want to do this, you¡¯ll have to pay for them. Is that okay with you?¡± Freddy nodded. ¡°Okay. Good.¡± The man grinned. ¡°The day is still young. And we have plenty of stuff to go over. Come on, you¡¯ve had your rest. Let¡¯s continue." Chapter 138 - The Executioner While Thor maintained the stance that Freddy was to keep an open mind and listen, the man never dictated what he should do. In fact, in many cases, all Thor did was point an issue out and force him to come up with a solution on his own. There was a reason to teach like this; Freddy wasn¡¯t a child¡ªhe was already a peak two-star; for better or worse, people only got that far by doing something right. And besides, an absolutely optimal build simply didn¡¯t exist. There were many choices where option one was better in some cases and option two was better in others. At that point, if anything should sway the final decision, it should be the opinion of the person who would be using those abilities. While Thor looked young, he was an old man with many decades of experience. He¡¯d trained numerous people and had seen many times what worked and what didn¡¯t. One of the most important things, as far as he was concerned, was that the user liked their build. Even if it was suboptimal, even if it wasn¡¯t the ¡°right¡± way to do things, letting people do what they liked would still often bring better results than trying to force them down an ideal path. The key to this was passion. If someone reluctantly went down a path just because someone else told them it was better, they¡¯d always have that niggling feeling of doubt hanging in the back of their mind¡ªwould my choice, a path I forged through my own intuition and experience, be better than this? In contrast, letting people choose their own path staked their pride¡ªeven if something they did didn¡¯t work, they¡¯d do everything in their power to make it work just to not be proven wrong. Many naively believed that the threat of risk to one¡¯s life was enough to make them use the tools at their disposal to the best of their ability. That just simply wasn¡¯t the case. People were creatures of intuition. A long time ago, that intuition had been a key tool for the survival of the human species. That tendency had never truly been erased from their nature. Even if it was counter-productive as hell sometimes. However, with that being said, Thor wouldn¡¯t spare Freddy¡¯s feelings or let his pride go unchallenged. Although pride could be a powerful tool, it could just as well seduce people into going down the wrong path. Freddy had been misled¡­ quite a bit. Putting the insane choice to use Abyssal Depths and Flowing Strike aside, there were other core problems with how he decided to create his build. First, picking Crimson Mercury was a suboptimal decision. If he already had the blood affinity, he should have gone with Rich Blood to further empower himself given the way he chose to fight. But given that he¡¯d already picked Crimson Mercury¡­ why wasn¡¯t he using it? ¡°I really have to ask,¡± Thor said, sighing, ¡°why aren¡¯t you working on more weapons?¡± ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°Dude¡­ the whole point of the Crimson Mercury path is the ability to create a variety of weapons. And besides, the two weapons you did choose to make are just¡­ not good. I mean the javelin isn¡¯t bad, but it¡¯s a massive fucking thing, while you have no smaller ranged options. And Gore Knuckles?¡± Freddy was about to protest, but he sighed. ¡°I already told you why I like Gore Knuckles.¡± ¡°And now it¡¯s my turn to explain why this option is complete nonsense. Gore Knuckles just creates a shitty anti-katar. With all the leverage and momentum behind a punch, a punching dagger simply makes more sense. Sure, Gore Knuckles increase the damage you do against exposed tissue. But how often do you think you¡¯ll have the privilege to hit exposed flesh? ¡°Tell me, how often do you face naked opponents and how often do you face armored opponents? And even when you do fight someone naked, I assure you they¡¯ll have Stone Skin at the very least.¡± Freddy scowled, but Thor raised a hand. ¡°I understand you like this ability and I acknowledge that it does synergise well with your talent. But guess what? You don¡¯t have to get rid of it! You have two fucking hands, dude! Put the Gore Knuckles on one hand and use a goddamn katar in the other! That way, you have both the option to punch through defense and to gore weak points. Win-win!¡± ¡°Oh¡­¡± Freddy muttered. That actually wasn¡¯t a bad idea at all. ¡°Also, you need three more things¡ªa smaller ranged option, a shield, and a proper weapon. As for the smaller ranged option and the weapon, you can choose whatever you want, but given your skillset, I highly suggest forearm shields.¡± Freddy took a deep breath to calm himself. ¡°Okay, smaller ranged option and the forearm shields I have nothing against. But¡­ do I really need a proper weapon? I mean, isn¡¯t a katar already a ¡®proper weapon¡¯? Also, I¡¯m going to be honest, weapons just aren¡¯t my thing.¡± ¡°How many weapons did you actually try using in combat?¡± Thor asked. ¡°I¡­ Not many.¡± Thor pointed at the huge weapon rack on the other side of the room. One of the most interesting things about the Fortress Dungeon was that it gave out a huge variety of weapons. Pretty much anything that had been used by pre-technology humans could be given out as a reward. And the weapon rack in Thor¡¯s training chamber was loaded with samples of almost all of them. Freddy looked over to the pile of weapons and nodded. ¡°I guess I can try some weapons out, but¡­ again¡ªsorry, I don¡¯t want to sound like I¡¯m cutting in or being a wise-ass, but why should I create a ¡®proper¡¯ weapon? If I have a ranged option and, okay, a katar, I guess¡­ what exactly am I missing? ¡°If anything, I feel like that goes against the whole thing I have going on. And besides, I don¡¯t really like ¡®proper weapons.¡¯ And also, no matter how good the weapon I make is, it will always lose out against enchanted or cursed ones.¡± Thor smiled at Freddy. ¡°Those are good questions. And you raise several good points. So let¡¯s go over them. Why should you make a ¡®proper weapon¡¯? Simple¡ªthe creation of weapons is the single biggest advantage of going down the Crimson Mercury path. And, while this might not be obvious, it probably doesn¡¯t go against your ¡®thing¡¯ as much as you think.¡± Thor raised his hand and extracted a large axe from his ring. It was his signature cursed weapon. Although the weapon wasn¡¯t unique, that didn¡¯t mean it was weak. Not at all. Thor brought it closer to Freddy and pointed at the axe blade, putting his finger close to the edge. ¡°Take a look here¡ªwhat do you see?¡± Freddy looked for a moment. His mouth turned down, and he shook his head slightly, clearly confused. ¡°An edge?¡± ¡°Look closer,¡± Thor said, and Freddy did. While the axe was sharp, the edge wasn¡¯t exactly pristine. There were very tiny chips and cracks, with some bending and deformations. It had clearly seen a lot of action. ¡°It¡¯s a bit damaged,¡± he noticed. Thor nodded. ¡°Exactly. The thing with cursed weapons is that they¡¯re a bitch to fix. Modifying them in any way, even just sharpening them, will scrub off some of the aura. And there is no cheap way to get this aura back once it¡¯s lost. Well, a unique cursed weapon could accumulate more aura with time, but this axe can¡¯t. Any bit I lose makes it that much less powerful. So how do you think I use this axe in combat?¡± ¡°Uh¡­ carefully?¡± Thor snickered. ¡°Carefully? That¡¯s a fucking understatement. More often than not, I won¡¯t pull this thing out of my ring unless my life is in danger. And when I do take it out, I mostly use the flat backside to hit things or even just use the axe as a wand to enhance my lightning powers. Even when I have to go all out, I still have to be careful with how I use it. ¡°Now tell me, if this axe was instead a completely disposable weapon I made from blood that I would only use for a single fight, what would change with how I use it?¡± ¡°It wouldn¡¯t be a cursed item.¡± Freddy sighed. ¡°I get what you¡¯re aiming at, but isn¡¯t this a bit of a fallacious argument?¡± ¡°I¡­¡± Thor muttered. He coughed and pulled back slightly. ¡°Look, while that¡¯s a good point, it doesn¡¯t exactly make me wrong. Okay, let me show you something.¡± Thor walked over to the weapon rack. There, he grabbed two forearm shields and a large axe. Then, he walked back and handed these items to Freddy. Freddy obediently strapped the shields onto his arms and grabbed the axe. ¡°Okay? And? What now?¡± ¡°Okay, now, use your Gore Knuckles.¡± Freddy shrugged and listened. He instantly created two sets of Gore Knuckles on both his hands. While there was a plate of metal limiting the movement of his fingers, it didn¡¯t hinder him while he held the weapon. ¡°Okay, now¡±¡ªThor clapped his hands¡ª¡±hold the axe in one hand and use Blood Javelin with the other.¡± Freddy nodded and obeyed. A moment later, he created a large crimson javelin and gripped it tightly in one hand. ¡°You starting to see it yet?¡± Thor asked. ¡°No¡­ not exactly, no.¡± ¡°Okay, imagine that you¡¯re fighting against me. You¡¯re attacking me with everything you got.¡± ¡°Okay¡­ So¡­ Uh¡­¡± Freddy thought about it for a moment. ¡°I pull my javelin back to throw it at you, you flash right in front of me and punch me in the gut, instantly paralyzing me and¡ª¡± ¡°No, I mean¡­¡± Thor chuckled. ¡°Okay, yeah, that is how it would go, but pretend that I am only defending.¡± ¡°Okay, sure¡­ Well, first I¡¯d throw the javelin at you.¡± ¡°Mhmm, go on.¡± ¡°Then I¡¯d probably rush you and swing this axe at you.¡± ¡°Okay, good.¡± ¡°You¡¯d defend. Anyway, I¡¯m assuming the axe is made of blood in this scenario?¡± ¡°Yep.¡± ¡°Yeah, okay, so I¡¯d swing the axe with all my might and that probably wouldn¡¯t work.¡±Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. ¡°What then?¡± ¡°I¡¯m guessing I also have the katar in this fictional scenario?¡± ¡°Yup.¡± ¡°Well I wouldn¡¯t exactly be able to hold a two-handed axe with a katar in one hand.¡± ¡°Pretend the katar is a blade growing from your knuckles instead.¡± ¡°Okay, got it. Then¡­ I¡¯d throw the axe aside and punch¡ªlook, I get it.¡± ¡°Eh? Eh!? Sounds like a pretty sweet deal, no?¡± Freddy scowled reluctantly and sighed. He knew what Thor was aiming at. None of the weapons interfered with one another. If one option didn¡¯t work, he had the second option. If the second option didn¡¯t work, he had the third option. And if that one didn¡¯t work, either, at least he had a way to defend himself. A whole arsenal of choices. It sounded excellent in theory. But in practice, he wasn¡¯t exactly convinced. This whole idea hinged on him being able to use a ¡°proper weapon.¡± What was the point of the axe if he couldn¡¯t use it effectively? If he would always just skip to punching things, why not start with punching things? ¡°I can see that you aren¡¯t convinced.¡± Thor sighed. ¡°Look, if I¡¯m being honest, even I can tell that weapons aren¡¯t exactly your forte. But while Abyssal Depths is a choice you can go back on¡ªby the way, that offer still very much stands¡ªuh¡­ Crimson Mercury is permanent. It¡¯s just a shame. Disposable weapons you can use with all the force you please is like¡­ the main advantage of the whole path. ¡°It wasn¡¯t a terrible choice for you, you know, you still have the shields, and the ranged options, and hopefully at least a punching dagger, but¡­ yeah, it would be a damn shame not to at least try putting a proper weapon in there somewhere.¡± Freddy hesitated but slowly nodded. To be honest, he wasn¡¯t so much against using a weapon as he lacked confidence in using a weapon effectively. While trapped in the Fortress Dungeon, he had used the ballista bolt and even a war pick to speed up the rate at which he killed the soldiers, but that was only a viable option against a bunch of much weaker opponents. Planning his build to make already-won fights a bit easier was hardly a wise choice. But the temptation was indeed there. Thor was right¡ªdisposable weapons were the core strength of Crimson Mercury. Freddy had only been looking at the ranged options and sharp things to attach to his fists, but there was a benefit to disposable melee weapons, too. While a blood metal axe would never be able to compete with a cursed or enchanted weapon in quality, it far outstripped such weapons in the flexibility of usage. From recklessly smashing the blade right into armor plating to blocking strikes that would break the weapon to just simply throwing the weapon away when it wasn¡¯t needed¡ªthis was a powerful advantage. And this wasn¡¯t even mentioning the Warrior King¡¯s Pendant or the Blood Ring and their effect on weapons Freddy created. At the very least, trying wouldn¡¯t cost him anything. ¡°All right¡­¡± he said, sighing and turning to the weapons rack. ¡°Let¡¯s get testing.¡± One by one, Freddy picked up the weapons off the rack and tried them out against the impact alloy. Starting from the humble staff and moving towards swords, sabers, spears, axes, halberds, glaives, maces, hammers, picks, mauls, and every hard-to-pronounce variant of these weapons imaginable. For the entirety of the rest of the day, all Freddy did was test weapons against the impact alloy. Other than basic guidance on how to use certain weapons, Thor mostly sat by the side and watched him test things. Realistically, both of them already knew that Freddy needed something heavy. However, Thor insisted that he at least give every weapon a chance and to keep an open mind. Yet, despite opening his mind so much his brain nearly fell out, Freddy strongly disliked almost everything he picked up. The weapons he disliked less were generally the heavier ones and ones that required less delicate handling to use. He hated pretty much all swords barring a few of the bigger ones he thought looked cool. He despised anything that required thrusting movements to use effectively. He thought he¡¯d like mauls or at least axes, but most of them felt clunky due to their top-heavy build. Eventually, he reached the more niche weapons. While he would never use most of these in serious fights, at least he was having fun with the nunchucks and spiky balls on chains, even though he hurt himself more than once while testing them. By some miracle, he finally came across a sword that he liked using¡ªit was a nagamaki. It was a cousin of the katana, but with a handle that was practically as long as the blade itself. Although he couldn¡¯t think of a single reason why he liked the weapon¡ªafter all, it had none of the qualities he appreciated in other weapons he tried out¡ªand he couldn¡¯t swing it properly to save his life, he still liked it. Something about it tickled his fancy. Perhaps it was the way he could comfortably grab the handle with both hands and really put leverage into his swings. But seeing Thor wince at his barbaric misuse of the weapon brought him back to reality, the place where he was too incompetent to ever use something like this effectively. As he walked back to the rack to return the blade, he spotted the next weapon on the list. Whether it was by some bizarre strike of chance or perhaps by the hand of fate itself, right after finding one sword he liked, a weapon from a category he despised most out of any of the categories he tested, he immediately found another sword he took a liking to. It was an extremely unconventional weapon. The blade was rectangular and without a tip, it was very unbalanced and surprisingly heavy. It was the executioner¡¯s sword. For some strange reason, before he even touched it, he was already in love with it. He plucked it off the rack and practically skipped over to the impact alloy. He pulled the sword back, and with all the momentum he could manage, swung it into his target. Impact alloy softened upon impact, allowing whatever struck it to sink in and freely deform it, perfectly showcasing both how deep the weapon could cut and how much force was offloaded into the strike. The weapon was no more or less impressive than most of the sabers he¡¯d tested out, but his experience with using it was drastically different. Thor groaned when saw his reaction. ¡°Oh come the fuck on! You tested every conventional weapon under the goddamn sun and that¡¯s the one you like!? Your taste is truly the most bizarre of anyone I¡¯d ever met in my life!¡± Freddy chuckled. ¡°What can I say? This sword speaks to me.¡± ¡°Crazy bastard. Judging by your reaction, I¡¯m guessing you¡¯ve made your choice?¡± ¡°Not quite.¡± He grinned slyly. He sat down on the ground and got to work. Blood slowly seeped from his hands and took the shape of a handle. And then it kept going. Thor groaned again as soon as he realized what Freddy was doing. But he ignored the man and kept going. Bit by bit, a ridiculously long handle took form. After crossing just a bit over two thirds of a meter in length, he finally made the crossguard and got started on the blade. The executioner¡¯s sword was made of a normal metal, and as such, it was considerably heavier than blood metal. To compensate for this, Freddy made the blade significantly wider¡ªand thicker. After making it stretch for a whole meter, he finally felt satisfied. The weapon¡¯s total length was almost as long as Freddy was tall. It was an oppressive monstrosity of crimson metal that cost a great amount of blood to create. But his eyes shone with stars as he raised it into the air. Through the combination of the lightweight blood metal and Freddy¡¯s extreme body density, the weapon was completely incapable of affecting his balance. This was another advantage of Abyssal Depths. When weapons got heavy, it became very easy to get dragged around by them. But as Freddy pulled the weapon back and smashed it into the impact alloy, he did so with full control over it. The long handle felt so comfortable in his grip. It allowed him to put his whole body into a blow while giving him the option to grip the handle lower to maximize his range. Thor sighed, but he didn¡¯t say anything. His eyes looked resigned as he shook his head. ¡°At least you like something, I guess¡­ But why this? Why, of all things, did the nagamaki and executioner¡¯s sword grab your attention?¡± ¡°The nagamaki? I don¡¯t know, I just think it¡¯s cool. But the executioner¡¯s sword¡­?¡± Freddy pulled the weapon out of the impact alloy and raised it to the ceiling. The lamps shining brightly from above were partly occluded by the blade, like a crimson eclipse. The blood metal was slightly translucent, making the edges look like they were shining with a sinister light. It cast a red shadow on his face. ¡°Probably¡­ because it isn¡¯t a weapon.¡± Thor raised an eyebrow. Freddy chuckled as he swung the sword down and rested it on the ground. ¡°I am an orphan. For the first decade of my life, I lived in an orphanage.¡± Thor¡¯s eyebrows raised slightly, and his mouth gaped a bit, but he remained quiet. ¡°Back then, during those horrible years, the only thing I was ever looking forward to were the visits. Everything¡­ and I do mean everything felt like it would be decided by just one lucky day. Surprisingly, mortals were rarely the ones to come scout the kids for adoption. Probably because they couldn¡¯t afford kids anyway. But we saw at least one wealthy archhuman pretty much every week. ¡°Frankly, in hindsight, most of them weren¡¯t coming there for the right reasons. But it wasn¡¯t like the orphanage could refuse them. Anyway, with every visit, there would be a storm of anxiety and expectation, regardless of who was coming. All of us just wanted a place to belong. Especially the older ones. ¡°The visitors that really stuck with me were the ones who brought their kids with them to the visits.¡± Freddy slowly turned to face Thor. He was smiling, but it didn¡¯t reach his eyes. There, in his black pupils, danced the pain and rage of distant, aching memories. ¡°It¡¯s very common for young archhuman kids to carry weapons on them. It was always so bizarre to see a tiny sword on a boy¡¯s waist or a bow hoisted over a little girl¡¯s back. ¡°That¡­ to me¡­ was the biggest difference between me and them.¡± He chuckled darkly. ¡°Once, I held a knife improperly while eating and one of the caregivers beat the shit out of me. Can you imagine that? I wasn¡¯t even doing anything crazy. I was just gesturing while talking to another boy. And it was a dull fucking butter knife. ¡°But those kids¡­ they could carry whole ass lethal weapons on them, and those same caregivers would smile widely and pat their little heads like they were so special and irresistible. What a fucking joke. ¡°For a long time already, in my eyes, weapons represent the elite. Seeing a teenager masterfully swinging a sword around wounds me like nothing anyone could do or say to me. Because, you know¡­ nobody is born with the knowledge on how to do that. Those kids had grown up being tended to constantly, seeing experts and learning, going to classes, being loved, cared for, and prepared to thrive in the world. ¡°And when they grow up? What happens then? Why do they, after all that love and care, turn out to be such monsters so often? Why is it that they choose to use their fortune as a weapon to make the lives of the miserable even worse? I will never get over this. I will never be at peace with it. ¡°I anxiously waited for years for two drug addicts to adopt me only to cast me away not long after, to spend the rest of my teenage years breaking my back hauling boxes around in a warehouse.¡± He paused for a moment to catch his breath. He couldn¡¯t hold back a cynical laugh. ¡°And now that I¡¯m the one in power¡­ ¡°To be entirely honest, other than the javelin, which unfortunately needs to be conventional to be effective, I prefer whatever weapons I use to be as bizarre and far from the norm as possible. And you can¡¯t get more out of the norm than this. The executioner¡¯s sword¡­¡± he said lovingly. ¡°This thing is a tool of trade, not a weapon for combat. The lack of tapering and the heavy build made them a poor weapon for war. But an excellent tool for chopping heads off. ¡°Did you know that executioners were persona non grata in pretty much every era they existed in? They were socially outcast and ostracized due to their work, and often lived miserable lives. I honestly do not enjoy killing people, Thor. But if I¡¯m already going to do it, I won¡¯t do it their way. I¡¯ll do it my way. The way of the reluctant outcast. The way of the career executioner.¡± Thor had remained quiet the whole time. After Freddy¡¯s monologue, he stayed quiet for several more seconds. ¡°You know¡­ I think I¡¯m starting to get you, Freddy. You¡¯re not really¡­ one of the good guys in a traditional sense, are you?¡± Freddy chuckled. ¡°I guess you could say that.¡± ¡°This isn¡¯t really funny you know,¡± Thor said sternly, interrupting Freddy¡¯s chuckling. ¡°There is a deep hatred inside you. Frankly, I believe the only reason you¡¯re even here is because you can¡¯t fathom being on ¡®their¡¯ side. Honestly, I¡¯m not sure I¡¯m comfortable with continuing this. I mean¡­ do you hear yourself? You sound like an absolute psychopath.¡± Freddy sighed. ¡°I know. Sorry. I¡¯ve been through a lot.¡± ¡°Oh, have you? Okay then, sure, continue your maniacal rants then! Oh, but wait, it doesn¡¯t really change the fact that you¡¯re allowing hatred to control who you are and what you do.¡± ¡°And what exactly am I supposed to do, then? Love these people?¡± ¡°Hey, feel free to hate real individual people as much as you like!¡± Thor said, raising his hands. ¡°I hate plenty of motherfuckers too. But you¡­ you hate this vague idea of the terrible elites. That¡¯s why you killed Shawn. You didn¡¯t see a real human being before you, and even you realize that¡¯s not exactly the right way of seeing things.¡± Freddy froze. ¡°Yeah¡­ Uh, sorry, I got a bit carried away.¡± ¡°No, man, this isn¡¯t ¡®getting a little carried away.¡¯ This hatred of yours shapes everything you do¡ªI mean, for fuck¡¯s sake, you can¡¯t even look at a normal sword without detaching it from some delusional caricature of the spoiled elite child. I mean, what the fuck?¡± ¡°I¡¯m¡­ I¡­¡± Freddy shrank a bit. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I¡ª¡± ¡°Please, just¡­ go home for tonight. Man, I don¡¯t think you¡¯re a monster, but¡­ this is just not cool. I mean, that was so fucking edgy I¡¯m tempted to laugh it off¡±¡ªhe chuckled nervously¡ª¡°but like¡­ you have some real problems, man. Maybe it¡¯s time to talk to a professional? Look, uhm¡­ just head home for tonight. It¡¯s been a long day for both of us.¡± ¡°I¡¯m really sorry, I¡ª¡± ¡°Don¡¯t, just¡­ Hey, no harm was done to me; what¡¯s the point in apologizing? I¡¯m not offended; I can just see that you have some soul-searching to do. Good night. But yeah, if you want us to continue this, I would very much so like you to talk to a professional. For everyone¡¯s sake.¡± ¡°I¡­ Okay¡­¡± Freddy nodded. ¡°Good. Now, go to sleep. And don¡¯t cut it too much. Sleep has important functions for how your brain works that most definitely can¡¯t just be magicked away by your healing. And given this shit, I think it¡¯s starting to show that you haven¡¯t been sleeping enough.¡± ¡°Okay¡­ I¡¯m sorry.¡± ¡°Good night, Freddy,¡± Thor said, offering him a relatively cold handshake. Freddy took it and left the chamber, slowly walking out of the headquarters and heading home. Chapter 139 - Catching Up Freddy gently knocked on the door. A voice reached from within the room. ¡°Please, enter.¡± He took a deep breath and pushed the door open. He walked into the room and closed the door behind him, arriving at his first-ever therapy session with a mental health professional. The office was a clean, tidy place. Seated on a wooden chair right beside a couch was an orderly, older gentleman. The man¡¯s face was surprisingly rugged given his early- to mid-two-star gathering, and his hair was full of gray hairs. ¡°I suppose you are Freddy Cliff?¡± Something about the man¡¯s voice was clearly strange. Supernaturally, even. His voice was a melodic timbre with a powerful soothing quality. Just a few words by the man, and Freddy already felt his nerves loosening and the tension in his shoulders vanishing. ¡°Yes. That¡¯s me.¡± ¡°I¡¯m Noah. Please, sit down and make yourself comfortable.¡± Freddy nodded and awkwardly shuffled to the couch. He clearly didn¡¯t look comfortable, sitting like a ramrod as he was, but the man did not say anything. ¡°Alright, I would like to start today¡¯s session by allowing you to introduce yourself. Whatever you believe is important for others to know about you, tell me. I won¡¯t interrupt you until you decide you¡¯re done.¡± ¡°Oh¡­ alright.¡± Freddy proceeded to give a vague introduction of himself. He dropped a few tidbits about his upbringing but refused to go into details. All in all, his introduction was brief and to the point. Noah kept his promise, remaining quiet and nodding at everything Freddy said. After the introductions, the man started asking a few questions. The questions the man asked were personal yet inconsequential. He asked Freddy¡¯s opinion on movies, what kinds of outdoor activities he enjoyed, and what kinds of books, if any, he loved reading. It was as if the man was merely chit-chatting. And yet, despite this fact, Freddy felt himself relaxing more and more as the session continued. But the comfort sparked a sense of vigilance, too. ¡°Excuse me,¡± he finally broke. ¡°What is it?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve noticed that your voice is a bit¡­¡± The man nodded with a gentle smile. ¡°Indeed. My talent gives my voice anxiolytic properties.¡± ¡°Oh¡­ I see. Quite remarkable. I imagine it makes your job much easier.¡± The man¡¯s smile widened slightly. ¡°It helps. Particularly so with a certain type of person. Anyway¡±¡ªhe checked his wristwatch¡ª¡±would you look at that? We have reached the end of our first session.¡± Freddy scowled as he glanced at the clock on the wall. ¡°Uh¡­ Unless that clock is broken, I don¡¯t think we have.¡± The man laughed, his voice making Freddy¡¯s chest tingle. ¡°I allocate a maximum time for my sessions, but often I end them before that time is up. If I¡¯ve achieved what I had to, I feel that dragging things on can sometimes be counterproductive.¡± ¡°No offense, man, but we haven¡¯t achieved¡­ uhm¡±¡ªhe chuckled¡ª¡±anything.¡± Noah¡¯s smile weakened slightly as he shook his head. ¡°Mr. Cliff,¡± he called seriously. ¡°You were partly coerced into coming here, no?¡± ¡°I¡­ Well, not exactly, but¡ª¡± ¡°You can be honest with me,¡± he said persuasively. Freddy paused for a moment, closing his mouth and nodding slightly. ¡°I mean pretty much, yeah. But it¡¯s still important for me to get actual therapy. I don¡¯t exactly have a choice here.¡± The man shook his head. ¡°No. That is not how this works.¡± He sighed. ¡°What we tend to call ¡®mental health¡¯ is a balance of body, mind, and soul. It¡¯s much more physical than most are aware. Just as the body can be treated by force, so too can the mind be mended by outside influence.¡± The man raised his fist, conjuring a tiny, shimmering ball of rainbow light. ¡°I have a special affinity called the dream affinity. If you allow me to use my abilities, I can help you heal your mind.¡± ¡°Oh, wow, uh¡­ Sure!¡± Freddy said enthusiastically. ¡°If I knew it was this easy, I¡¯d have come a long time ago.¡± The man chuckled awkwardly. ¡°I¡¯m afraid it is not so easy, my dear friend. In fact, I can already tell you that I am powerless here.¡± Freddy scowled. ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°Well, you see¡­ you are already perfectly healthy,¡± the man said, leaning back in his chair. ¡°I have a special method to sense turbulence within people¡¯s minds. If you had such a thing as a mental illness, I¡¯d know. But you do not. All I can sense within you is that you lack some sleep. But add another hour or two to your nightly rest, and that problem will vanish.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Freddy said, chuckling awkwardly. ¡°But this¡­ Yeah, this doesn¡¯t really make sense. Did Thor tell you why he sent me here?¡± The man chuckled back. ¡°That¡¯s exactly why I told you this isn¡¯t how it works. You say you have no choice, but you very much so do. And for your specific problem to go away, you must make a personal choice nobody can force you to make.¡± ¡°And what choice is that?¡± ¡°You have to change as a person, Mr. Cliff,¡± the man said. ¡°Your problem is one of personality and conviction. You see the world a certain way and act upon your perception of it. Sure, to others, some choices you make might appear ¡®sick,¡¯ but there is no illness to speak of. Your brain works perfectly fine. It does everything it¡¯s intended to do exactly as it¡¯s intended to do it. The only thing I can do for you is help you take the necessary steps to change as a person. And the only way I can do that is if you choose to change of your own volition.¡± ¡°Okay¡­ Uh¡­¡± Freddy frowned as he chewed on his words. ¡°I might have been pushed a little to come here, but I am still ready to at least talk.¡± ¡°You have glanced at the clock on the wall 78 times since the beginning of our session.¡± Freddy winced. He hadn¡¯t even realized he¡¯d been doing that. ¡°Look, Mr. Cliff,¡± the man said as he got up. ¡°As long as you come here regularly and intend to cooperate, I will tell Thor that our sessions are going fine. But if you truly intend to recover from what ails you, I can¡¯t make that change for you.¡± The man offered Freddy a handshake. Freddy reluctantly got up and shook the man¡¯s hand. He felt like he wanted to say something, anything, but his words failed him, and the man, noticing his reluctance, smiled gently and tapped him on the shoulder. ¡°Have a good day, Freddy. I will see you again on Thursday morning.¡± Hearing that Freddy had attended his therapy session, Thor agreed to continue with their training. And thus, the work to bring Freddy to where he was supposed to be began in earnest. Thor lined out an incredibly strict schedule. 16 hours of training a day, 7 days a week, with no vacations or breaks in sight. Besides eating, sleeping, showering, and attending therapy, Freddy was stuck in the private training chamber. Other than the time dedicated to growing his abilities, he spared a reasonable amount of time for physical training, too. While Freddy had already fulfilled a good amount of his natural potential, Thor wanted to see if there was any more juice to squeeze out of him. Freddy was administered a complex set of different substances and hormones, ranging from pharmaceutical concoctions to natural remedies. With anyone else, doing something like this required vigilance and moderation. With Freddy, Thor piled on everything he could get his hands on. There was no small number of experimental substances with unknown effects thrown in there as well. The goal was to modify his body to the absolute limits of human potential. From improving his sweat glands to making his toenails tougher, as long as it did something, they included it in the regular rotation of literally hundreds of drugs he was given on a daily basis. And it seemed to actually be working. While he couldn¡¯t see any changes in his physical performance, he could feel the improvements during exercise. Coupled with Thor forcing him to focus on some muscles he had neglected slightly, he surprisingly managed to achieve a rather notable improvement where he used to think he reached a hard limit. That being said, there was no shortage of things he was absolutely shit at. The first time Freddy fought the puppets, Thor nearly lost his mind. The puppet arena was designed in a way that marked any damage taken as an instant loss. Obviously, this wasn¡¯t how it went in real life. Even if someone was stabbed in the back, as long as that didn¡¯t kill them, they¡¯d keep fighting. But in the puppet arena, things were different. The goal was not to get hit even once. And Freddy sucked a moon-sized ball of ass at not getting hit. ¡°You really just take damage all the time in fights, don¡¯t you?¡± Thor asked. ¡°You just accept that as something natural because your healing talent lets you get away with it.¡± Freddy blushed. ¡°Dodging is¡­ not my highest priority, no.¡± ¡°Dear god.¡± And so their training continued. A good chunk of Freddy¡¯s day was set aside to run all sorts of obstacle courses and practice dodging things. He was ridiculously clumsy, tripping and falling way too often. After failing to swing from one metal bar to another and falling into a pool of dirty water, he swam back out, growling in frustration. ¡°Is this really necessary?¡± he asked. ¡°I¡¯ve never had a fight where I needed to do shit like this!¡±This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. ¡°Are you trying to be smart with me again?¡± ¡°Uh¡­ sorry.¡± ¡°Look,¡± Thor barked, pinching the bridge of his nose. ¡°You are slow. Uncoordinated. I won¡¯t force you to drop Abyssal Depths, but you need to get faster. You gotta be mobile. Agile. Dextrous. You can¡¯t let your weaknesses get you killed. No matter how big, heavy, or muscular, I¡¯m not letting you stop until you can move with the grace of a cat! Now get up and get your lazy ass back on the course!¡± Days passed, soon turning into weeks. At first, Freddy was constantly frustrated, feeling like Thor was pushing him to do something he simply couldn¡¯t do. But under proper guidance, his doubts and frustrations were slowly washed away. He could do it. He could move faster. He could dodge better. He could fight with grace and skill. Thor knew what he was doing. And Freddy finally shut up and truly listened. Another section of Freddy¡¯s schedule was spent meditating on ether imprint tablets for the blood and water affinities. At first, this genuinely felt like a total waste of time. There was nothing¡­ concrete to find in the tablets. It was all vague impressions and complex concepts that Freddy couldn¡¯t even begin to imagine how he would convert into actual combat efficiency. But the more time he spent meditating, the more he started to understand. It wasn¡¯t something as concrete and specific as a concept. It was more profound, more fundamental than that. Before he became an archhuman, Freddy had only ever tasted shitty, cheap instant coffee. But when it was all he knew, it tasted just fine. Only after tasting fancier stuff did he realize what kind of trash he was drinking before that. And again, it was nothing concrete. Be it cheap garbage or luxury beans, both gave a buzz and delivered a dose of caffeine. Both were coffee. But they weren¡¯t the same thing. It was something that could only be experienced, not described. It was just¡­ quality. Now, instead of coffee, this was how he was starting to feel about his abilities. Most of them had an embarrassing lack of complexity and finesse. Frustratingly enough, he could only remedy these problems once he brought the abilities up to stage 3¡ª50%. That was a very distant goal. The only ability he had that truly held a glimpse of that same nuance he experienced within the tablets was his Absorb Blood. Granted, this was just because he forcefully absorbed many different types of blood, a feat even the most excellent blood-affinity experts would struggle to accomplish when making the ability, but he would take the wins where he could get them. While he could do nothing to change his existing abilities, at least in the near future, he had all the power in the world to make his new abilities the best they could be. Starting with Hydraulic Throw, he shored up a few missing elements and finally, with Thor¡¯s help, developed the precision subrune for the Blood Javelin. It still wasn¡¯t unerringly precise, but it was accurate enough. Next up was the Dissipate Wave ability. While its primary purpose was to halt Flowing Strike, it could also be used to counter abilities that relied on causing turbulence in his body. There were several such abilities in the water affinity, and some could be scary effective to those who couldn¡¯t counter them. Granted, in the vast, overwhelming majority of cases, Thousand Wet Hells would be enough to protect him, but there was no harm in giving the ability some extra utility. Next were his new weapons. For the executioner¡¯s sword, the ability needed a name. So he gave it one¡ªSanguine Beheader. Edgy, yes, but it was thematically fitting. It took him a long time to finish the shell for this ability. Other than referencing the blood tablets and some textbooks, Freddy got help from the local weaponsmith, mainly in adjusting the weapon¡¯s dimensions and giving it an appealing design. As for the dimensions, the man suggested making the handle a little bit shorter and the blade a bit longer, keeping the same length but giving the blade-handle ratio a more functional balance. Also, the man suggested making the sword thicker. It was already too thick to effectively cut through things, so might as well go all in. As it was, it was more like an axe than a sword. It chopped rather than cut. But this was by no means a weakness. Especially when wielded by Freddy. Another surprising suggestion the weaponsmith made was to keep small globules of blood unhardened inside the blade. This allowed Freddy to keep some water in the weapon, adding a good deal of extra weight that it would otherwise lose. It also allowed Freddy to take the weapon down a path he couldn¡¯t take it down otherwise. At stage 1, he would upgrade the sword with the concept of ¡°moisture¡± of all things. The reason why was to unlock a different upgrade at stage 2. The thing with Sanguine Beheader was that it didn¡¯t have a particularly notable connection to the concept of weight. Because it wasn¡¯t really all that heavy. This made it so that concepts like ¡°mass¡± and ¡°weight¡± couldn¡¯t fit into the ether shell. However, ¡°moisture¡± acted as something that was known as a ¡°bridge concept.¡± Because moisture affected the weapon''s mass, it would allow the concept of ¡°mass¡± at stage 2 and, later, the concept of ¡°weight¡± at stage 3. This would be extremely useful. The weaponsmith was passionate about his work and believed that a weapon¡¯s looks were crucial in their function. Even seasoned warriors were subconsciously affected by intimidating weapons. The man helped Freddy settle on a cool-looking criss-cross pattern for the blade, a noble cross guard, and a beautiful handle with a snakeskin pattern and a serpent head as the pommel. Once he finally finished the shell, he was delighted with it. Next up was the katar. Well, it wasn¡¯t really a katar. It was just a blade that protruded from the knuckle on his middle finger. It was just a bit over half a foot long, and it was built with piercing in mind over everything else. After some testing, he had to admit he was pretty satisfied with the weapon. And yes, Thor was right. This was far more practical than Gore Knuckles. He kept the name simple¡ªKnuckle Blade. Following that were his forearm shields. Once again, he asked the weaponsmith for help and settled on an elegant winged design. To Freddy¡¯s surprise, a quick test showed that the Warrior King¡¯s Pendant worked with the forearm shields. The pendant didn¡¯t work with armor. It only worked with weapons. But shields were weapons. Even when they were strapped to the forearms. Given the design, he named the ability Crimson Wing Shield. This only left a single Crimson Mercury weapon remaining¡ªa small projectile. However, Freddy just didn¡¯t feel inspired by this. He didn¡¯t like any of the weapons he tried. The main problem was that smaller weapons were generally trickier to use. They were also lighter. Coupled with the fact that his Hydraulic Throw only applied to Blood Javelin, he lost all motivation to work on other throwing weapons. That being said, he didn¡¯t completely give up on the idea, but it was moved to the bottom of the list of priorities. Thor was a bit miffed, but he accepted it. In his own words, not everything was for everyone. As for his other abilities, he made steady progress and worked on growing them. Soon, his Flowing Strike was also ready for an upgrade, but Thor urged not to upgrade the ability yet. Both Abyssal Depths and Flowing Strike would have to wait until Freddy upgraded Thousand Wet Hells to whatever the fuck it would become after. Only then could he guarantee that he would be tough enough to handle using Flowing Strike. He upgraded Gore Knuckles with the concept of ¡°shredding,¡± Crimson Mercury with the concept of ¡°steelness,¡± and Hydraulic Flex with the concept of ¡°speed,¡± as urged by Thor. He also recreated his Water Body and brought it up to stage 1, where he upgraded it with the generic concept of water. Just like that, his internal water abilities received a 5% boost to power. He would never forget how stupid it was to be missing out on this. And finally, after much contemplation, he gave up on Pressure Jet. The ability simply didn¡¯t fit his style, and without a manipulation talent, it would never live up to its full potential. Its unfinished shell would forever remain in his soul. Similarly, he got rid of Purify. While there was little harm in having a few utility abilities here and there, the number of abilities he had was already starting to get a bit high. Too many abilities could cause adverse effects on latent aura accumulation, especially if some abilities were a blatant misfit. And Freddy was already getting uncomfortably close to what was conventionally considered the upper limit for the number of abilities a two-star should have. There was only space for one or two more, after which he would definitely cause harm to his future growth. Time kept going. Weeks flowed into each other. He trained, went to therapy, and waited. Thor soon noticed that Freddy was acting strange, and he knew why. It wasn¡¯t much longer until the arranged date for Sophia¡¯s healing arrived. While Freddy did his best not to think about this, he was deeply nervous. And finally, only a day remained until the arranged meeting. The night before, just as he got into bed, he checked his progress: GATHERING: Second star¡ª199% essence capacity 2-star satellite TALENT: 1% Lifesteal: Dynamic-quality healing SOUL CONSTRUCT: Scythe: Essence Extraction TEMPERING TECHNIQUES: Blood affinity: Lake of Blood: Stage 2¡ª62% Progress Crimson Mercury: Stage 2¡ª7% Progress Purifying Crimson Spring: Stage 1¡ª59% Progress Water affinity: Adaptive Water Body: Stage 1¡ªComplete Thousand Wet Hells: Stage 1¡ª96% Progress Abyssal Depths: Stage 1¡ª99% Progress (Ready to Upgrade) Water Body: Stage 1¡ª29% Progress ACTIVE ABILITIES: Blood affinity: Gore Knuckles: Stage 2¡ª11% Progress Blood Javelin: Stage 1¡ª80% Progress Absorb Blood: Stage 1¡ª94% Progress Accelerate Blood Projectile: Stage 1¡ª86% Progress Sanguine Beheader: Stage 0¡ª62% Progress Knuckle Blade: Stage 0¡ª23% Progress Crimson Wing Shield: Stage 0¡ª30% Progress Dissipate Wave: Stage 0¡ª3% Progress Water affinity: Flowing Strike: Stage 1¡ª99% Progress (Ready to Upgrade) Hydraulic Flex: Stage 2¡ª29% Progress Create Water: Stage 1¡ª53% Progress Hydraulic Throw: Stage 0¡ª40% Progress Perished water affinity: Perished Water: Stage 0¡ª8% Progress Ghosts of the Drowned: Stage 0¡ª8% Progress SPIRIT ABILITIES: Blood Sacrifice Leviathan¡¯s Fury UNIQUE CURSED ITEMS: Warrior King¡¯s Pendant: +1% damage and +1% durability to equipped weapons. Blood Ring: -6% essence cost, +5% power for blood-affinity abilities. Can be used to release Bloodshed. Attacks inflict minor bleeding. While his abilities were improving rapidly, he was still way behind where he should be for his level. This was the plain reality of the situation. No matter how hard he trained, he couldn¡¯t compensate for the years of training he skipped by abusing Blood Sacrifice to grow his star. That being said, there was no need to be harsh to himself. He did good. He was proud of his progress. If he finally found a way to properly use his perished affinity, even he was afraid of what he would be able to do. He put his notebook away and leaned back, closing his eyes. But sleep wouldn¡¯t come. His heart was beating out of his chest. No matter how he tried, he simply couldn¡¯t fall asleep. He finally had a proper day off the next day for the first time in forever. And it was to bring Sophia to finally get treated. Seeing how it wouldn¡¯t happen, he skipped sleep altogether. He walked out of his apartment and up to the rooftop. There, gazing over the night lights of the city of Repentawa, he lit a cigarette and pondered. Snow and terror danced in the wind. Smoke was lost in time and space. Bitter tar coated his teeth. Hour after hour fell like the clouds above, and finally, the sun crept over the horizon. ¡°Time to get going.¡± He headed for the clinic. Chapter 140 - Treatment Many people mistakenly believed that the law was there to stop people from committing crimes. Or, even worse, believed that the law was there to enact justice. But both ideas were laughably misguided. After all, if someone was to starve, they would steal, prison time be damned. If someone hated another to the point where they couldn¡¯t accept continuing to live in the same world as that person, they¡¯d kill them, even if they got executed for it. And, perhaps most commonly, if one¡¯s ego was inflated beyond reason, they¡¯d do crimes for the mere conviction that they were special¡ªimmortal in their perfection, immune to consequence and law alike; fully convinced they¡¯d effortlessly get away with it. The law wasn¡¯t there to stop crime. No. It was there to stop revenge. Well, it was also there so that those in power could control the masses, but that was a different story. Any broadly applied justice system served but a single purpose above all else¡ªto minimize the escalation of conflict. An eye for an eye made the whole world blind¡ªand brought anarchy upon a world the people in power preferred to see stable and susceptible to control. It was no secret that the American Empire had three almost entirely separate legal systems¡ªthe first was for matters of the poor and powerless, the second for matters between the poor and the rich, and the third for matters of the powerful. The first was enforced sloppily. The second was barely enforced at all. But the third was enforced with absolute urgency. If someone without power was slighted and wanted revenge, their means were minimal, and whatever damage they might cause was hardly something to sweat over. But if someone with power, like Freddy, for example, was angry and felt like they needed to take matters into their own hands, the possible damage was catastrophic. The early Post-Rift era, even to that very day, was plagued by terrible global mismanagement. Downfall after downfall had taught many lessons to those who were paying attention. There was a saying that those who failed to learn history were doomed to repeat it. And indeed, there were many instances where countries made the same mistakes made by their predecessors. But if anything had changed in the Post-Rift Era, it was the fact that the people at the highest level of power didn¡¯t have to catch up on their history lessons. Because they were the ones who had written that history in the first place. Laws were indeed applied unequally. And this was, at least sometimes, for good reason. Some rules were the only thing standing between stability and anarchy. The sanctity of imperial banks was a good example. But another equally important act was the Guaranteed Mutual Service Act. In many towns and cities, there were factions that single-handedly owned a monopoly over a whole business sector. If there were several such factions in the same place and they happened to be mutual enemies, they were legally obliged to provide their service to each other, as enforced to the highest degree by the empire. Before this was enforced, there were many cases where such factions became enemies, only for both of them to have to aggressively recruit and expand into each other¡¯s sectors to acquire services they couldn¡¯t do without. This often resulted in a small civil war that crippled entire cities. Thus, Freddy walked to Strata¡¯s clinic without fear. Naturally, he was still vigilant. But he wasn¡¯t worried. He had been stressed out about the possibility of Strata denying him service, but Thor had explained to him why that wouldn¡¯t happen. Strata didn¡¯t exactly have a choice. If they decided to arbitrarily refuse him just because he was from Valhalla, that could even be cause to call upon the adjudicators. And nobody wanted the adjudicators to get involved. In anything. Ever. It was still early in the day, and the fluttering snow gently swayed through the air at the behest of the kind dawn winds. The closer Freddy got to the clinic, the deeper the pit in his stomach became. He was well within the time limit to get Sophia fixed up. But he didn¡¯t know enough about the process to be confident that it would work. He turned once, twice, and found himself standing before the clinic. It was a beautiful glass building, with several nurses standing outside and smoking in the fresh air. He nodded at them as he walked through the revolving door and entered the clinic. The anxiety instantly spiked. He felt his own heart beating in his ears and a tightness pressed on his chest as if a bear was sitting on it. He breathed in large gulps, sucking in chestfuls of air as if he were drowning. His palms were sweating beneath his gloves, and he rubbed his hands. They were surprisingly cold. He stepped before the office of the lead doctor and knocked. Then he entered. The man appeared physically ill upon seeing Freddy. He forced a tight smile and nodded stiffly. ¡°Welcome, Mr¡­ Mr. Cliff. We are ready to go whenever you please.¡± ¡°Let¡¯s get it over with. Just a heads up¡ªI¡¯m going to be standing aside as you do the procedure.¡± ¡°You¡­ I hope you are joking,¡± the man muttered nervously. ¡°We don¡¯t permit¡ª¡± ¡°I don¡¯t care, man. I¡¯m going to be in there whether you let me or not. Now let¡¯s go.¡± ¡°Oh¡­ All right¡­ I guess¡­¡± The man chuckled nervously. ¡°Follow me.¡± That doctor led the way to the operating room. A team of clinic staff members was already waiting. They looked surprised to see Freddy enter but didn¡¯t comment on it. Freddy was given a gown and a hair net and instructed to wait in the corner. He was also politely asked to remain quiet so as to not distract them while performing the procedure. He was also warned that he was about to witness a very graphic process and was urged to reconsider staying. He decided to remain and watch. Sighing, the staff could only nod and accept his decision. He handed them the jar containing Sophia¡¯s head. They delicately extracted it and placed it on the operating table. She was shriveled, almost pickled. The surface of her skin was a deep, brown color, almost like the mummified flesh of a dried corpse. Her eyes were sunken and shriveled, leaking a strange magenta liquid from the corners. Slowly, they dried the skin''s surface and sealed the neck shut with a metallic plate. The plate had numerous holes through which they inserted several tubes transporting colorful liquids. Sophia¡¯s head had grown a bit of hair, but it was very short and completely white. Every hair appeared thin and delicate, almost like a thick peach fuzz. As the liquid slowly seeped into the head, Freddy watched Sophia¡¯s face slowly fill back in. Her cheeks puffed back out, and her wooden skin slowly regained the slightest hue of green-tinged paleness. Freddy had seen plenty of horrible stuff, so the sight didn¡¯t affect him too badly. But as the procedure finally started in full, he felt his anxiety spiral. Over a dozen clinic staff members participated in the process. The first step was administering a lot of healing directly to the head. From medicines to holy-affinity abilities, this was by far the part with the most care and effort invested in it. A whole day of work was spent on just the head, and by the end, she finally regained some color and actually looked like an ordinary human being. Given what they were saying, they were satisfied with how her head was recovering. Her eyesight would be a bit poor, but she would regain her hearing perfectly. They also discovered no signs of severe brain damage, but that didn¡¯t mean that there wasn¡¯t any; it just meant that they didn¡¯t find it. As for the details of anything other than her brain, Freddy wasn¡¯t particularly concerned. As long as she woke up and knew who she was, she could use her talent to heal herself back to perfection. Next, he watched them detach the metal plate and get started on her skeleton. The reconstruction of just her spine was the second longest part of the process. It took half a day of work. After that, they slowly reconstructed the cardiovascular system using a transplanted heart as the basis. Freddy winced as he realized they would be using organ transplants but didn¡¯t comment on it. Even though he knew exactly where those organs were coming from, what was he supposed to do? Tell them to stop the procedure? He swallowed his discontentment and kept his mouth shut. The parts of her body were slowly reconstructed one by one. They used a lot of supernatural-quality healing, but very little of it was directed into regrowing actual tissue. It was mostly used to fill in the blanks and seamlessly fuse the parts. This was hardly a surprise. Supernatural-quality healing produced vastly inferior tissue. Transplants were far more reliable. The process would last a total of four days. During this period, Freddy didn¡¯t sleep a wink, nor did the lead doctor. It really seemed to be going well, from what he could tell. By virtue of pure exhaustion, the feeling of anxiety had dissipated and turned into nothing but a dull ache at that point. Soon, it would be over. But as they finally reached the final stages of reconstructing the limbs, something went wrong. ¡°Doctor!¡± a nurse called. ¡°There is a problem! Left arm tissue is rapidly decaying!¡± ¡°What!?¡± the lead doctor shouted as he rushed to check what was happening. Freddy perked up, too, feeling the pit reopen in his stomach. His hands shook. The clinic staff fretted about the arm for a few minutes, but in the end, they couldn¡¯t discover what was causing the problem. In the end, they had to sever Sophia¡¯s left arm. Up to this point, Freddy wasn¡¯t worried about anything other than her brain. But something was very, very wrong with her. The procedure continued, however, it wasn¡¯t without even more problems. Just as with her left arm, just as they were about to complete the left leg, it also began withering away, as if some form of divine decree didn¡¯t allow her to own either a left arm or a left leg. They were forced to do yet another amputation. Freddy watched the process, feeling numb and afraid. At this point, the lead doctor finally stepped away and walked up to him. ¡°Mr¡­ Mr. Cliff¡­ I must ask you, did this woman, to your knowledge, possess a spirit ability?¡± Freddy¡¯s eyebrows jumped. ¡°No¡­ Not that I knew of it.¡± ¡°I see¡­¡± the man muttered and sighed. ¡°This, to me, looks like Ethereal Restriction.¡± Freddy¡¯s stomach dropped as soon as he heard that. Ethereal Restriction was, in a way, the exact opposite of Ethereal Mercy. There were many spirit abilities that required a whole limb as a cost for using them. But this wasn¡¯t as simple as cutting a limb off¡ªit meant losing the ability to possess that limb altogether. Not even supreme-quality healing could do anything about this. And it wasn¡¯t just a spirit ability that could cause this, either.Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. ¡°If it isn¡¯t a spirit ability, then¡­¡± the doctor muttered, ¡°it must be severe soul damage.¡± A near-total numbness spread through Freddy¡¯s body as he heard those words. ¡°At any rate, Mr. Cliff, we¡¯ve done all we could. I advise you to temper your expectations.¡± ¡°I understand,¡± he answered numbly. Part by part, the healing continued. There were no more mishaps. On the fourth day, they finally finished her treatment. It was only a matter of waiting for her to wake up, which could take days or even¡­ might not happen at all. She was transported to a private care room. Freddy sat beside her, waiting for her to open her eyes. A day passed. Then two. Then three. He already hadn¡¯t slept a wink for a whole week. Beating the spark no longer helped. Nothing helped. He felt numb and tired. And he was slowly losing hope. But on the dawn of the fourth day of waiting, something finally happened. Her finger twitched. Freddy¡¯s head jumped, and he leaped off the chair. ¡°Sophia! Are you awake?¡± He gently grabbed her right hand and squeezed it. ¡°Please¡­¡± She slowly cracked an eye open. ¡°Oh, thank fucking¡­¡± He breathed out, feeling as if a huge weight had fallen off his shoulders. But just as he felt the pang of relief, anxiety set in yet again. ¡°Sophia¡­¡± ¡°Mmmh¡­¡± she moaned and winced in pain as she turned her head to face him. Her mouth flapped like that of a fish, and she squinted her eyes. ¡°Do you remember me?¡± She stared at him with an empty look for a long few moments. Then¡­ She slowly shook her head. ¡°I see¡­ I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m Freddy,¡± he said, trying to force a smile. ¡°Freddy Stern. I changed my face a bit, so you probably don¡¯t recognize me¡­?¡± he asked hopefully, but¡­ She shook her head again. ¡°That¡¯s all right,¡± he said, forcing himself to remain positive. ¡°You¡¯re probably still a bit confused, haha¡­ I¡¯ll fill you in on what happened. For now, we¡¯re going to leave the hospital, okay?¡± She simply kept staring at him, remaining quiet. ¡°Nurse¡­ Nurse!¡± Freddy called. He told the nurse that Sophia was awake, and she called the lead doctor. The man rushed over to examine Sophia. For the most part, she seemed to be fine. Her motor skills were intact, and she wasn¡¯t showing any other signs of brain injury. It was possible that her amnesia was temporary. Nothing could be done about the soul damage, however. She was cleaned and dressed, and within a few hours, they were allowed to go. Given that Freddy couldn¡¯t prove that he was related to her and that she didn¡¯t recognize him, the staff should have stepped in to stop him from just taking her and leaving. But they had no real power to prevent him from doing so regardless, so they let them go without causing any trouble. She was put into a wheelchair. Despite the extensive care and the numerous procedures, she still looked awful. While her body was mostly intact, she curled up on herself and clearly struggled to use her limbs. Even if she remembered how to use her talent¡­ or even could use it anymore, she wouldn¡¯t immediately regain her muscle memory. She kept looking around with a dull, dazed look in her eyes. She still hadn¡¯t spoken a single word. Pushing Sophia forward in her wheelchair, Freddy left the clinic and called Thor. Thor sent one of the drivers to pick them up, and Freddy took her to Valhalla, where she was given a room. This was the only place she would be safe, and there was staff to take care of her. Before leaving, Freddy spent hours trying to teach her how to use her talent. He explained what she was supposed to do and showed her the spark over and over. Every time she failed to remember, he got more angry. Then he raised his voice. ¡°You stupid bitch! Just use your damn talent and you¡¯ll¡ª¡± The sight of her jumping back in abject terror tore a hole straight through Freddy¡¯s heart. He took a few steps back, and with a mad grunt, rushed out of the room. He had no destination. He simply mindlessly wandered through the halls. Then suddenly¡ª ¡°Hmm?¡± he hummed as he noticed his pocket buzzing. ¡°Oh¡­ It¡¯s the phone¡­¡± He picked up, placing the device on his ear. ¡°Hey, Fred,¡± Thor¡¯s voice came through the phone ¡°Can you come visit my office real quick?¡± Freddy stood there in silence, breathing heavily. ¡°Freddy?¡± ¡°Yeah, sure. I¡¯ll be right there.¡± He hung up, then stood stock still for a few moments. Then he turned on his heel and went to Thor¡¯s office. He walked through the door, stepped up, and took a seat. Thor coughed. ¡°So¡­ Are you okay?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± he said casually. ¡°This was¡­ you know¡­ Well, it wasn¡¯t like I didn¡¯t already know this could happen.¡± ¡°Is she¡­ Is she your¡­?¡± ¡°No,¡± Freddy denied. ¡°We¡¯re just friends. Barely even that, honestly,¡± he said with a chuckle. ¡°Besides, it¡¯s too early to really say anything. I¡¯ll give her some time; she¡¯ll probably remember a few things. But, you know, I¡¯m honestly just happy to see her alive. Not many could boast that they recovered from being just a head.¡± He laughed again. Thor scowled. ¡°I see¡­ Anyway, uh¡±¡ªthe man looked over to a pile of papers¡ª¡±I wasn¡¯t going to bother you with this, but we have a hit tonight. There¡¯s some sort of human trafficking station in town, and from what we can tell, they aren¡¯t directly tied to any of the local forces.¡± Freddy raised an eyebrow. ¡°Oh? That¡¯s a surprise.¡± ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m not sure exactly what¡¯s happening. But, there are signs that this is related to some faction from one of the neighboring cities. While I¡¯m not sure exactly whose toes we¡¯d be stepping on by taking them out, we don¡¯t have much of a choice. We must take the stance that outside forces aren¡¯t welcome meddling with Repentawa affairs. If we don¡¯t do something, we¡¯ll be inviting more trouble.¡± ¡°And you want me to come?¡± ¡°Not want as much as need,¡± Thor said seriously. ¡°They have a three-star with them.¡± Freddy¡¯s eyebrows jumped. ¡°Really?¡± Thor raised a hand. ¡°It¡¯s an early three-star, but still. From what we know, you and Travis should have no trouble taking care of him. Usually, I¡¯d do it, but there¡¯s a chance that this is a trap and that someone more powerful is waiting to step in. I¡¯d like to be prepared for that. We were going to go tomorrow, but if you want, we can postpone so¡ª¡± ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± Freddy said. ¡°Really. We¡¯ll go tomorrow.¡± Thor winced. ¡°I¡¯d tell you to take some time off, but I¡¯ll really need you on board this time. I¡¯m so sorry about your friend. Take the rest of today and tomorrow off and just relax a bit. I think you could use some time to process this.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± He chuckled. ¡°I could use some sleep.¡± Without even heading home, Freddy simply headed to the closest free room and fell on the bed. He slept for 17 hours straight. And for the rest of the waiting, he did some reading to take his mind off things. The scheduled raid arrived soon enough. Everyone got into position to raid the small building. Freddy was in the vanguard as usual. The scouts gave the signal, and everyone charged. Freddy bolted forward. He punched through a wall and leaped inside, conjuring all his weapons. He threw a javelin straight through a man and cleaved three others with his sword. ¡°Freddy, wait for me to catch up! Out!¡± Travis said in the comms. Freddy ignored him. With a furious shout, he punched through another door and charged into a room. There, standing surrounded by ten others, was the three-star. He was a burly man equipped with a thick spear, shaven bald, and tattooed on one side of his head. He smirked as he watched Freddy jump into the room. ¡°What the fuck are you doing!?¡± Travis shouted into the comms. Yet again, Freddy ignored him. He charged forward, only for the ten men to raise their weapons and cast their abilities. A fireball struck him dead center, spikes tore into his legs, and arrows struck his armor. He was surrounded on all ends and pelted by one attack after another. His sword was smashed into pieces, and he was knocked to the ground. The whole room was full of smoke and flying debris. Freddy was dead silent and unmoving. ¡°Fucking moron,¡± the three-star mocked as he chuckled. However, his smile froze on his lips as he watched Freddy suddenly jump back to his feet and lunge forward. ¡°Bastard!¡± the man shouted, raising his spear to stab right through Freddy¡¯s chest. The weapon landed, breaking through the trenchcoat and impaling Freddy through the heart. But Freddy ignored the weapon and triggered a double-star Flowing Strike instead. With a massive shout, he swung his katar fist right at the center of the man¡¯s body. The bloody blade sank into the armor, breaking off in the process, and the force of the punch crushed the plating into dust. Blood rushed through the three-star¡¯s mouth as he was sent flying back into a wall, his weapon still stuck in Freddy¡¯s chest. Freddy tore the weapon out of his torso and jumped forward again. Before the man could regain his composure, Freddy threw another Flowing Strike, and another, and another. The building shook, deafening thuds echoed through the room, dust flew into the air, and the sound of his fist crushing bone echoed rhythmically. The whole wall caved, and the three-star flew into the room on the other side, coughing sputtering coughs and twitching as his gored chest sprayed blood. With a twirl, Freddy created another Sanguine Beheader and swung the sword down, decapitating the man and ending the fight. By the time the smoke cleared, the ten dazed combatants witnessed the sight of a beaten, bleeding man standing over their dead leader and gaped in terror. Freddy didn¡¯t wait for them to react. He ran back, leaping through another burst of fire and projectiles, swinging his sword through the dust and smoke right into a man¡¯s head. The blade struck the man¡¯s ear, and the force of the blow made his whole head explode inside his helmet. A moment later, the other Valhalla combatants flew into the room and joined the fray. Suddenly, a sound came from the corner of the room. It was about as loud as a whisper, but Freddy noticed it immediately and braced himself. He swung his head aside, only for a shortsword to fly right past it. With an inhuman reaction speed, he reached behind his back and grabbed the assailant by the arm. Judging by the thickness of the arm, it was a woman. Activating a double-star Hydraulic Flex, he pulled the black-clad, masked woman over his shoulder and slammed her into the ground, right into a pile of rubble. Her arm twisted uncomfortably, and she screamed, but Freddy kicked her right in the head and swung his sword down with all his might, breaking her ribs and kicking the air out of her lungs. He watched the three stars light up in her chest as shadowy tentacles swiftly reached to tie him up. He could do nothing to defend himself. They coiled around him and then flung him across the room, slamming him into the wall near the ceiling and causing him to plummet to the ground. The woman slowly struggled to get back up to her feet. Meanwhile, Freddy took a deep breath and flexed. With an almost wet, loud tearing sound, he ripped the shadow binding into shreds and got up. The woman froze in terror as he quickly conjured a Blood Javelin and threw it right at her head. She had tried to dodge, but with her injuries and the sheer speed of the projectile, it reached her before she could get out of the way, piercing right through her skull and killing her on the spot. A second later, Thor came rushing through the ceiling, only to see both of the three-stars dead. He fell to the ground and immediately turned to face Freddy. An expression of anger flashed through the slit in his helmet, but he took a breath and calmed himself. The rest of the men were already either dead or tied up. The members of Valhalla who had just witnessed Freddy brutally murder two three-stars stared at him with awe and disbelief. Thor slowly walked up to Freddy and put a hand on his shoulder. ¡°I fucked up by taking you here. We¡¯ll talk about this. You¡¯re taking a week off.¡± ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± Freddy growled. ¡°You¡¯re not fucking fine, dude!¡± He shouted, breathing so heavily his nostrils flared. He sucked a deep breath to keep himself calm. ¡°You aren¡¯t fine.¡± Freddy was about to retort, but he felt his throat tighten. His voice failed to come. He closed his mouth shut and headed outside. *** When they first arrived in Ottawa, Mark believed that it would take a long while for them to establish themselves. He didn¡¯t expect Basilisk to have a whole business organization up and running in less than a month. Harold Maskaart was an old monster in every way. Be it his personal power or his means, he was a beast in human skin. There was nothing this man was unwilling to do to acquire more power. Mark stood aside at first, closely watching the man at work. But then he received the news that his sister was being bullied at school, and that she was lacking resources. This was the first time he got involved. First, he beat the shit out of a man who was interfering with their business. Sure, the man needed money to have his young daughter treated, but he was still an enemy and a terrible person. Besides, Mark had a simple mantra to chase all the self-doubt away. I don¡¯t really have a choice. Bit by bit, he kept encroaching upon his moral values. It was always a small shift, a tiny push forward. And he supposedly never had any choice in the matter. By the time he found himself holding a woman¡¯s son hostage to get her to spill company secrets, he already knew that he was lying to himself. On one lovely morning, he woke up feeling fantastic. Beautiful morning sunlight filled his room with warmth. The beautiful sound of birds chirping came from hidden speakers installed all throughout his room. He got up and stretched a bit, then lit a scented candle and meditated. Once done, he entered the toilet. There, he saw himself in the mirror. His square-pupiled eyes blinked, and he opened a drawer. He took out a small box and opened it, extracting his special lenses. He put them on, and just like that, his eyes went back to looking normal again. He was looking fresher and more handsome than ever. His beard was trimmed to a stubble and neatly groomed. His jawline was sharper than a sword. Gently, he applied some cream on his skin and a special ointment on his beard. His skin shimmered with a pleasant light and his beard almost appeared to thicken slightly. Even three-stars could use a bit of self-care to look their best. He gelled his hair and combed it back, splitting it down the middle. He looked slick and formal. He took a few minutes to practice the smile he routinely kept on his face. Just like this, he left his apartment and headed to Basilisk¡¯s office. ¡°Mark, my man!¡± Harold greeted him. ¡°You¡¯re looking good!¡± ¡°What¡¯s up, old snake?¡± Mark greeted Basilisk with a smile as he approached and sat on the chair. ¡°How are you doing?¡± ¡°I¡¯m doing fine, thanks for asking,¡± Basilisk responded cheekily. The two of them chatted for a few minutes, catching up on their business affairs. Mark had been opening his own businesses lately. He was sticking to strictly legal operations as he lacked Basilisk¡¯s expertise, but he was still raking in quite a bit of money. He really didn¡¯t expect that Ottawa would be such a wealthy city. Naturally, it couldn¡¯t compare to the average city in the empire, but it was still surprisingly competitive. Also, it turned out that being practically the most powerful person in nearly the entire region allowed one to earn a lot of money. Who would have thought? As they kept chatting, Basilisk suddenly mentioned something strange. ¡°One of the branches we recently set up in a neighboring city was hit and completely destroyed.¡± ¡°What? Which city?¡± ¡°Repentawa.¡± Chapter 141 - What Would You Sell Yourself For? Noah held his hand on Sophia¡¯s head, slowly observing whatever was happening within. Freddy stood to the side, anxiously watching the examination. Throughout the whole thing, Sophia merely sat in her wheelchair, her one arm twisted in a strange fashion and her expression slack. Finally, after half an hour of work, Noah finally gasped and released his grip. A drop of sweat flowed down the side of the man¡¯s face, and he wiped it off with his sleeve. ¡°And?¡± Freddy asked nervously. Noah smiled ruefully as he shook his head. ¡°As I said before we started, this type of neuropathology is above my pay grade. I can¡¯t tell what¡¯s happening.¡± Freddy¡¯s lower lip curled, and his eyebrows twisted. ¡°But,¡± Noah cut in, ¡°I do feel that, whatever is going on, it¡¯s gradually easing.¡± Freddy¡¯s head perked up. ¡°Really?¡± ¡°I wouldn¡¯t get your hopes up too high, Mr. Cliff. She is improving, yes, but that¡¯s relative to her current condition. I sense a sort of¡­ desynchrony within her mind. It is possible that her corpus callosum has been damaged somehow and that her left and right brain hemispheres are still trying to reconnect. But as I already said, this is just a conjecture. I am not nearly skilled enough to tell.¡± ¡°Where could I find someone who can treat her?¡± ¡°Treat?¡± the man smiled sadly. ¡°I don¡¯t think anyone in the Northern Belt could even examine her situation properly, let alone treat whatever is happening.¡± ¡°What about outside the Northern Belt?¡± ¡°I wouldn¡¯t know,¡± the man said with a sigh. ¡°You¡¯d have to leave and seek the answer yourself.¡± He deflated, sighing. ¡°I see.¡± ¡°Now, if you will, let¡¯s allow her to return to her room and rest,¡± the therapist suggested. ¡°But I would like you to stay here for a few minutes.¡± Freddy nodded and left the office for a moment, calling upon the staff member that was helping take care of Sophia. The woman politely nodded and entered, pushing Sophia''s wheelchair and taking her back to her room. The two men sat in their usual places as they did whenever they did therapy. Freddy looked forlorn and lost, and Noah gave him a few minutes to settle his mind before they began. ¡°Now¡­ this might not be the most opportune time to tell you this, but I would rather not drag it out longer than necessary.¡± Freddy scowled. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± ¡°We¡¯ve had many sessions so far, Mr. Cliff. And we aren¡¯t making any progress.¡± ¡°You want to change our schedule?¡± ¡°No. I think it would be best to terminate your treatment.¡± Freddy sat there in a stunned silence. Bewildered, he chuckled, scowling and holding back a confused anger. ¡°What? You can¡¯t do that!¡± ¡°I indeed can.¡± The man sighed. ¡°It is not uncommon for treatment to not work for people. To some, it can even make their problems worse. You¡­ well¡­ you¡¯re neither here nor there. As I¡¯ve mentioned many times, there is nothing truly wrong with you. You have had some terrible things happen to you, and your brain is just doing its job by helping you adapt. Sure, there are good and bad choices as to how you decide to adapt to your worldview, but I can¡¯t be an authority on your behavior when you simply don¡¯t let me.¡± ¡°Okay, wait, slow down,¡± Freddy said, still smiling nervously. ¡°Didn¡¯t we have a deal?¡± ¡°Our deal involved you cooperating. But trying to get you to cooperate is like trying to catch a wet bar of soap out of the air. You don¡¯t have the patience for anger management. You consider gratitude exercises to be demeaning and refuse to do them. It¡¯s the same story with everything I tried. If I¡¯m being honest, I don¡¯t think you can change until you start seeing the world from a different perspective. And you¡¯re too stubborn to do that.¡± ¡°Okay slow down there, pal,¡± he said defensively. ¡°You are trying to make me seem like the bad guy here, but if I remember correctly¡±¡ªhe threateningly raised a finger¡ª¡±it was always ¡®take your time¡¯ this, ¡®at your own pace¡¯ that¡ªwell, what the fuck happened suddenly?¡± ¡°What happened, Mr. Cliff, is nothing.¡± The doctor sighed. ¡°You¡¯ve made no progress whatsoever.¡± ¡°But you said¡ª¡± ¡°I have given you time the same as I do to all my patients. But taking your time doesn¡¯t mean you can just come here with no intention of putting any effort into improving.¡± ¡°But what about¡ª¡± ¡°Please, Mr. Cliff,¡± the man said with a raised hand. ¡°let me finish. If this was a matter of you making slow progress¡ªor even not making any progress at all¡ªI would not resort to terminating your treatment. But you¡¯re getting worse. I feel as if our conversations had only resulted in you reinforcing your preconceptions and strengthening your current worldview, the same worldview that leads you to destructive behavior.¡± ¡°Because you practically demand I become delusional about how things are!¡± Freddy shouted, still holding on to his disbelieving grin. ¡°I can¡¯t pretend like the world isn¡¯t the way it is! Fuckers born into wealth and power become shitty people! I can work on ¡®humanizing the elite¡¯ from dawn to dusk every fucking day of my life, but how exactly does that change anything? ¡°Even Thor keeps making these bullshit arguments about second chances, but all I see him ever doing is killing these same elites! If anything, even trying to see these monsters as just ¡®misguided people¡¯ makes it more difficult to do my fucking job!¡± ¡°As I¡¯ve said many times, Mr. Cliff, it¡¯s a slippery slope. This isn¡¯t about forcing you to become delusional; it¡¯s about stopping you from descending into madness and tearing everything down.¡± ¡°I¡¯m starting to think that¡¯s exactly what I should do.¡± ¡°And I can¡¯t even say you are wrong,¡± Noah said with a hint of cynical humor. He sighed and shook his head. ¡°But I am not here to discuss the inner workings of society. My job is to help you handle the inner workings of your mind. I have never tried to stop you from doing what needs to be done. But as you are, I don¡¯t believe you¡¯re capable of enduring this responsibility.¡± ¡°I¡­ Then what am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to think? Okay, I¡¯m listening, I¡¯m cooperating¡ªjust tell me what to do and I swear I¡¯m going to do it!¡± Noah opened his mouth, then slowly closed it. He looked contemplative for a moment and then, after correcting his glasses slightly, said, ¡°I do not have the authority to do this¡­ but if I did, I¡¯d get you out of this line of work. I don¡¯t think you have the right personality to keep doing this.¡± Freddy chuckled. ¡°Well I can¡¯t do that.¡± ¡°That will be all, then.¡± ¡°That won¡¯t be all,¡± he spat with a scowl. ¡°What am I going to tell Thor?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t take this the wrong way, but that is a problem you must tackle yourself. Have a good day, Mr. Cliff. I¡¯ll be seeing you around.¡± With a reluctant, slow nod, Freddy got up and shook the man¡¯s hand. ¡°Okay¡­¡± And just like that, he headed home. He had a week of forced vacation ahead of him, and not a single idea on how to spend it. Now that he thought about it, this is probably the first time he¡¯d ever had an actual vaction. And like many of the firsts in his life, it was sour and spoiled by circumstance. For the first few days, he spent most of his time with Sophia, trying to help her remember who she was. When he wasn¡¯t with her, he was looking for solutions to her problem, either by reading through books or asking around. As for solutions, he found none. But Noah¡¯s prediction had been correct¡ªher condition was, indeed, improving. She appeared to be slowly leaving her totally dazed and unfocused state. That being said, the progress was slow. Very slow. Brief moments of focus were the most she could manage, and even then, it was hard to tell how much she was really there. She still didn¡¯t speak or move much, but Freddy noticed her facial expression¡­ ¡°lock in¡± so to speak. Like she was actually there for the shortest of instants, right before plunging back into the thick haze of a broken mind. It was hard seeing her like this. Deep down, he still held on to the hope that everything would be fine once she regained enough function to use her talent. But he struggled to hold on to the hope that such an outcome would come to fruition. It was already July. Seeing snow still around was bizarre, but the weather was starting to warm up a bit. Every day felt slightly less cold and the clouds appeared less oppressive. The snow was starting to recede slightly, and soon enough, there might even be some rainfall. On one such slightly-warmer-than-average night, Freddy left his apartment and set off on a walk around the city. It was a truly depressing place. The people looked tired and stressed out. Passersby gave him strange, cautious looks as they passed him on the street. He ignored as many of these things as he could and headed to the nearby park. Junkies and thugs occupied right about every single bench in sight. It was surprisingly crowded, with murmur and occassional yelling echoing through the sparse park woods. At one point, he became tired of looking for a place to sit, so he chased roughly a dozen men off of one of the benches and took their place. All it took was briefly flashing his aura, and they ran as if the devil himself had descended upon them. His brief showing of force had done more than intended. It seemed that he had underestimated crackhead instincts. That brief, weak flash of aura had been sensed by practically everyone in the park, and nobody hesitated to evacuate the area. It was a bitter sight. How often were these people bullied by those in power to be like this? Well¡­ that was a bit of a hypocritical question coming from one such bully. Sighing and darkly chuckling at himself, he sat down, crossing his legs and spreading his arms across the splintered wood of the graffitied bench. A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. At least it was finally quiet. He hung his head back and stared at the sky above. There were no clouds, but the wind still carried scattered snowflakes around. The bright backdrop of the city around him made the night sky difficult to make out, but he could still see it with his enhanced perception. He could even make out the planets from the stars. He wondered what kinds of stuff could be found there. Were there passages on Mars? If so, could he get there from Earth? And if he could, what would be waiting for him on the other side? Pretty much all realms that could be accessed through the interspace had a similar atmospheric density. If the air was unbreathable, it was only either because it was too hot or because it was toxic. If there were passages on Mars, that meant its atmosphere was nothing like it was before the Rift. Sadly, nobody could tell. It was well known that the moon had no passages, as could be observed by its total lack of atmosphere, but that didn¡¯t mean there was nothing to be found there. Depending on the ether density, it could very well be populated by a number of sentient ether constructs, many of which had possibly even reached the level of an eidolon. Given how many bizarre talents there were in the world, it wasn¡¯t impossible that someone powerful had already visited the moon. He wondered if he could go there himself one day. He wondered what he would find. For a brief moment, the wind slowed down, and he felt a strange calm descend upon the surrounding woods. But soon enough, it picked up again. A large leaf landed on the side of his neck. It got stuck in his collar. He reached and pulled it out, releasing it back into the stream and sending it down its journey. He watched the leaf go, and soon enough, he lost sight of it as it vanished behind a tree. The sight of it disappearing saddened him for some reason. One thing nobody mentioned about power was the burden of being able to do so much. It was almost better in some ways to have no choice¡ªto have to wake up every day and head to work and to then come back and have to take care of chores. It created a paradoxical freedom. Like a leaf carried on the wind that couldn¡¯t choose where it would land, he would never be guilty of reaching the wrong destination. He would always have the wind to blame. Freddy felt like his current life was controlled by chaos. And yet, he knew that it was he who was in control. He liked focusing on training because of the structure it gave him. But all the training kept opening more and more possibilities to him. The therapist was right. He wasn¡¯t the right person for this. There were simply too many bastards out there. He couldn¡¯t cope with being able to make them disappear. Perhaps this was the source of the problems he was dealing with. The destructive urges and hatred he¡¯d built up through his life had finally received an outlet, and he¡¯d let them make his choices for him. While Noah didn¡¯t feel like Freddy was making any progress, he wouldn¡¯t exactly say that all those talks had been for nothing. Being fired by his damn therapist was also a bit of a wake-up call. Sighing, he finally got off the bench and continued his walk. It wasn¡¯t even 9 p.m. yet. So he decided to visit Sophia again. As soon as he reached the road, he mounted his bike and set off. The roads were getting a bit dangerous at this time of year. The days were quite a bit longer, and as a consequence, snow melted and then froze on the streets. He experienced a few close calls with flying off the side of the road, but thankfully, the motorcycle was well suited for handling rough terrain. Before long, he reached the entrance to the Valhalla headquarters and waited for the gate to open. He drove inside and folded his bike, getting ready to walk into the main compound. But just as he was about to walk in, the doors opened, and two people exited. Joyfully giggling and locked in an animated conversation were Lucas and his girlfriend, Janice. They spotted him and froze on the spot. ¡°Oh, wow, hey!¡± Lucas greeted with a chuckle. ¡°Haven¡¯t seen you in a while, man; how have you been?¡± ¡°Hello, Mr. Cliff,¡± Janice greeted with a slightly forced smile. ¡°Lucas,¡± she called and tugged on his shirt. ¡°I¡¯ll be going.¡± ¡°Oh, sorry, babe,¡± he said with an awkward smile. He gave her a light peck on the lips. ¡°Bye. I¡¯ll see you Monday.¡± ¡°Bye-bye!¡± Janice quickly greeted the two of them and skipped away to a nearby car that would take her back home. ¡°I see things are going well between the two of you,¡± Freddy said with a gentle smile. ¡°I¡¯m glad.¡± Lucas nodded and looked up at Freddy. Freddy sighed and finally met Lucas¡¯s gaze. The young man had changed so much in the last few months. He no longer had a lanky, small frame. His shoulders were broader, skin clearer, and his eyes were sharp, focused and earnest. He looked more confident. A lot less boy and a lot more man. It was a staggering transformation. ¡°So¡­¡± Freddy said with an awkward cough. ¡°Been a while, huh?¡± ¡°Yeah¡­ Uh¡­¡± Lucas pointed a finger back inside. ¡°Do you wanna go and maybe sit down for a drink or two?¡± ¡°Actually¡­ you know what, I¡­ How about we just sit outside somewhere. I¡¯m not really in the mood for being around people. Besides, you might have heard some rumors¡ª¡± ¡°About you going a little¡­¡± Lucas twirled a finger next to his head and winced. ¡°Yeah I¡¯ve heard. And that¡¯s fine by me. Let¡¯s find a place to sit down.¡± They walked a bit until they found an empty bench. Freddy looked around, admiring how different things felt here. It was a drastic change. The surrounding area felt so much safer¡ªso much more civilized. That same tyranny couldn¡¯t be felt so openly in this little gated community. He wished it could be like this everywhere. And he wished it didn¡¯t come at the price that was constantly being paid by the brave men and women who fought against the rule of the other factions. He glanced at Lucas with a pained gaze and forced a smile. ¡°How¡¯ve you been? Adjusting well?¡± Lucas snorted. ¡°Hell no, man. It¡¯s been rough. I¡¯ve been getting hit in the head so much I think I¡¯m starting to get dumber.¡± Freddy chuckled. ¡°Having fun, I see?¡± ¡°Yeah, yeah¡­ No¡­ Honestly, I¡¯m not.¡± Lucas¡¯s fingers locked, and he clenched his hands, leaned forward, sighed, and frowned. ¡°This¡­ I feel like my life has changed so suddenly. I¡¯m still struggling to come to terms with it.¡± ¡°Yeah. Crazy what becoming an archhuman can do to you. It hits you all at once. One day, you¡¯re nobody. The next day¡­ well, you¡¯re no longer nobody.¡± He chuckled. ¡°I remember feeling almost like I¡¯d died and been reborn.¡± ¡°Damn. That¡¯s exactly what I feel like sometimes,¡± Lucas said, chuckling back. ¡°How¡¯s your mom?¡± ¡°She¡¯s good. I think. I mean, she hasn¡¯t really left this community since coming here. Technically, she hasn¡¯t returned to her old habits, but, you know.¡± He vaguely gestured at the buildings around them. ¡°There are no casinos here.¡± ¡°Yeah¡­ Hope she can move past it.¡± ¡°Heh. I hope so, too.¡± ¡°So¡±¡ªFreddy clapped his hands¡ª¡±I see you¡¯re still with Janice.¡± ¡°Yeah, yeah¡­ But man, it¡¯s been rough.¡± ¡°What¡¯s the problem?¡± ¡°I¡¯m always busy with training, and¡­ well¡­ I live here. As a trainee, I can¡¯t exactly run around the city unprotected.¡± ¡°Yeah, makes sense. Sorry if this makes you worried, but¡­¡± Freddy raised a thumb in the direction of the exit, ¡°you sure she¡¯s fine? I mean she¡¯s¡ª¡± ¡°I mean¡­¡± Lucas said, then hesitated. ¡°Like, she would move here; she told me she wants to. But man, her parents are so fucking¡­ ugh.¡± He groaned and buried his face in his palms. ¡°They¡¯re such a damn pain in the ass.¡± ¡°What? They don¡¯t let her move?¡± ¡°Dude, I barely convinced them that I¡¯m not a barbaric terrorist,¡± Lucas said with a shake of his head. ¡°I think they still believe our thing is temporary and that she¡¯ll ¡®come around¡¯ any day now and look for employment with one of the ¡®proper¡¯ factions, and god, they sure do love letting me know. Every time I visit her house, they keep talking in French just to fuck with me. Even worse, Janice has been teaching me French, so I know they¡¯re shit-talking me out in the open.¡± Freddy cackled. ¡°Damn, that¡¯s¡­ that¡¯s something, all right. Also, nice! Cool to see you¡¯re learning some French. Come on, say something.¡± ¡°Nah, I¡¯m bad at it.¡± ¡°Nah, come on, I want to hear it.¡± Lucas blushed and then said a few sentences in French. It was truly fascinating. If a mortal had said the same things, or if it was a recording, Freddy wouldn¡¯t understand a single word that Lucas said. But because they were both archhumans, Freddy understood everything. This was a phenomenon that happened between any two ascended enlightened beings. Hell, during his first real encounter with the world of archhumans, Freddy had seen a man talk to those ¡°gege gaga¡± motherfuckers, and the man could clearly understand their bizarre language without any problem. But this was, indeed, limited to only ascended beings. Janice¡¯s parents were mortals, meaning they could openly talk shit about Lucas, and the poor man would be none the wiser. Thankfully, it also meant that archhumans had very little trouble learning new languages, so such situations would rarely be an issue. The two kept chatting about mundane stuff for a while and just simply catching up. Neither of them mentioned Freddy¡¯s strange behavior the last time they saw each other. At one point, Lucas suddenly went quiet. ¡°Hmm? You good?¡± ¡°Yeah, uhm¡­¡± Lucas leaned forward, and for a moment, he appeared to shrink. His eyes revealed an inner conflict as he unfurled his hands and looked at his piling calluses. ¡°You know, back when I was a mortal, I¡­ like¡­ I had this perception of people that was¡­ I felt like archhumans and mortals weren¡¯t even the same species.¡± Freddy was about to answer, but he found that he had nothing to say. So he simply remained silent and waited for Lucas to continue. ¡°You know, it¡¯s so strange. I always thought I''d feel more important if I became an archhuman. Like something would change in how I saw my place in the world. Don¡¯t get me wrong, I feel way fucking different than I did just a few months ago,¡± he clarified. ¡°But¡­¡± His expression slackened, and he looked at his hands again. ¡°I¡¯m still just¡­ Hey, Freddy?¡± ¡°Hmm?¡± ¡°Do you¡­ do you think every life is worth the same?¡± Freddy chuckled. ¡°Fuck do I know, dude. I mean, obviously, they aren¡¯t to the people in power.¡± ¡°No, I mean¡­ fundamentally.¡± ¡°I know what you mean, but you know, that¡¯s a tough philosophical question.¡± He blew air through his lips as he buried his fingers in his long hair and leaned back. ¡°I don¡¯t know, man¡­ I think¡­ You know, a while back, I¡¯d have answered either yes or no, but now¡­ I think that¡¯s not really the right question to ask. I mean shit, dude, the empress is fucking important. ¡°In every way that means anything, her existence is a significant factor in the grand scheme of things. Same with everyone in power. But on the other hand¡­¡± He stared at his own unfurled palm, just as Lucas had. ¡°Anyone can be. Any schmuck, be they sick, poor, old, or otherwise just weak, could potentially become someone of great importance. ¡°That same awkward cashier many spit and vent their anger on could stumble upon a twist of fate and grow into a calamity.¡± He clenched his fist. ¡°That¡¯s the thing, tho, isn¡¯t it? Power isn¡¯t a static variable. It¡¯s tempting to say that your power doesn¡¯t determine your worth, but how do you separate power and value when power determines who lives and who dies? But now it dawns on me that there¡¯s an easy way to settle this problem¡ªI do really think that every life is worth exactly the same. But not everyone is worth the same number of lives.¡± Lucas stared at him, frozen and gaping slightly. He slowly turned away and nodded a bit. ¡°And what do you think a single life is worth?¡± Freddy snorted. ¡°That¡¯s a dumb question, man. How am I supposed to answer that?¡± ¡°Sorry, I¡ª¡± ¡°Actually, you know what?¡± Freddy asked as he focused on his ring. ¡°I got someone we could ask.¡± He extracted a small glass box from his ring and opened it. There was a prime vestige within, and Lucas¡¯s eyes widened at the sight. It was a yellow ball with a smug smile on its stretched face. Freddy pulled it out, smiling back at it with a sarcastic grin. ¡°Hey prime!¡± he called. ¡°What do you think a single life is worth?¡± ¡°Hmph, isn¡¯t it obvious? A life is worth whatever the owner sells it for.¡± Freddy broke into a snickering laughter. ¡°I see, I see, that¡¯s a good one!¡± Lucas chuckled awkwardly. Freddy stopped laughing and asked again, ¡°And what about those without an owner?¡± he asked with a ¡°gotcha¡± expression on his face. ¡°They still own themselves, do they not?¡± The prime grinned. ¡°Tell me, then, human: what would you sell yourself for?¡± Lucas laughed nervously and said. ¡°Man, I heard that primes are known for giving absurd answers to philosophical questions, but it¡¯s still pretty impressive that¡­¡± his words trailed off as he saw Freddy¡¯s stunned expression. ¡°Uh¡­ Freddy?¡± Freddy snapped his fingers and quickly put the prime away. ¡°Sorry mate, we¡¯re gonna catch up another time, okay? It was great talking to you again.¡± He moved to leave but paused, slowly turning around to face Lucas. ¡°It was really great talking to you again.¡± Lucas gaped for a moment and then smiled. ¡°Yeah. It really was.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll see you around. Drinks next time. On me.¡± ¡°Sure, sure, haha,¡± Lucas said. ¡°Take care.¡± ¡°Bye, man.¡± ¡°See ya.¡± Freddy finally turned around and ran off. He quickly pulled out his motorcycle and mounted it. ¡°Bloodshed,¡± he called. ¡°What is it, Master?¡± ¡°Get ready. I might need your help with something.¡± ¡°What are we going to do?¡± Freddy grinned ruefully. ¡°We have a doctor¡¯s appointment.¡± Chapter 142 - The Power of Money Back when Freddy was sixteen, while still working in the warehouse, he mostly kept to himself. Stack boxes, sort items, take inventory. Stack boxes, sort items, take inventory. Stack boxes. Sort items. Take inventory. Day in. Day out. Over and over again. But in hindsight, if he had to choose between working as a cashier or manning the warehouse, he¡¯d pick the latter nine out of ten times. Why nine out of ten? Because there was one huge downside to working in the warehouse. All it takes is one shitty coworker, and your life becomes absolute hell. ¡°Hey fucker, how about you move out of the way?¡± a gruff voice came from behind Freddy, and he jolted, rapidly turning around and shrinking in on himself. ¡°Sorry, I¡ª¡± ¡°I said fuck off!¡± the man repeated himself as he pushed Freddy out of the way and put his box down. The man was tall and burly, shaven bald, with a nose piercing and tattoos just barely showing under his shirt. His tongue was sharp, and his attitude was nasty. As Freddy watched him walk away, his lips twisted and he spat to the side. ¡°Asshole.¡± Around a week ago, this man had started working the same shift as Freddy. And every day since, his treatment of the others became worse and worse. Especially towards Freddy. It was as if every encounter with Freddy was just another moment to make the teenager¡¯s day even worse. He¡¯d push him, trip him up, pinch him, punch his arm, smack him on the back of the head, flick his forehead, pull his nose, and worst of all, he¡¯d poke him in the side. Out of everything, Freddy hated the pokes the most. Because no matter how hard he tried, he¡¯d always have a strong reflex reaction. Then he¡¯d either drop what he was carrying or plainly look like a pushover. On his part, Freddy had never done anything to get on the man¡¯s bad side. He even naively tried helping the man in hopes of getting better treatment. When that did jack shit, he tried reporting the man to management, but nobody gave a single flying fuck about such menial bullying. For months, this treatment continued, only getting worse with time. Until one day, the man failed to show up to work. Then he missed another day. And another. While he didn¡¯t dare raise his hopes up, Freddy was praying that the man had finally quit or been fired. But little did he know¡ª On the fourth day, as soon as he pulled up to work, he walked past two coworkers gossiping. That was the moment he learned that they had found the man dead, beaten purple with every bone in his body broken. He remembered how he felt at that moment. Freezing in place like his entire world had crawled to a halt. He didn¡¯t dare admit it to himself. He didn¡¯t want to be that kind of person. But he couldn¡¯t stop the smirk from crawling up his face. Serves him right. Many years later, Freddy was sitting with his legs crossed around a hundred meters away from the clinic, smoking a cigarette and waiting. It was early morning, dawn was already licking across the horizon and the sky was clear. He hadn¡¯t slept that night. ¡°Master,¡± Bloodshed finally called. ¡°I have found the doctor,¡± it said, referring to the man who had both been the lead doctor during Sophia¡¯s operation and the man who worked the organ harvesting facility. Freddy¡¯s eyes squinted. ¡°Good. Keep track of where he is and tell me when his shift ends.¡± It really wasn¡¯t all that long ago that Freddy had become an archhuman. But thoughts of his life before felt distant and pale, almost like it had happened a lifetime ago. As for the man who used to bully him, Freddy didn¡¯t even remember his name anymore. Back then, he had done his absolute best to force down the glee that bubbled up when he learned of the man¡¯s death. Yet, now, he knew himself well enough¡ªhad he somehow acquired the power to make that man disappear, he would have been the one guilty of the man¡¯s death. ¡°Master,¡± Bloodshed called. ¡°The doctor¡¯s shift is over. A number of staff members have gathered to be transported together in a heavily guarded vehicle.¡± Freddy clicked his tongue. ¡°Shit¡­ Never mind, just follow them.¡± He flicked the cigarette to the ground and stomped on it. ¡°Let¡¯s see where they¡¯re headed first.¡± But he had changed since then. He wasn¡¯t a better person or more forgiving, not in the slightest. Yet, if he knew what he knew today, he would never lay a finger on that man, even if he had the power to do so? Why? He walked forward, slowly tracking the bus transporting the clinic staff. They didn¡¯t go far. Within minutes, the bus pulled over into a walled-off compound that looked more like a prison than living quarters. He tracked down an abandoned building nearby and hid inside, waiting for Bloodshed to determine the exact apartment where the doctor lived. He pulled out another cigarette and lit it, taking a deep puff of smoke as he sat against the wall. Why wouldn¡¯t he kill that man now when he would have done so six years ago? It was simple¡ªif he had that kind of power, he could earn a lot of money. And it wouldn¡¯t take much to turn the man from a bully to a dog groveling before him and begging for scraps. Personal power could go far. But nothing could beat the power of money. Violence was clearly not working for him. So it was time to take a different approach. ¡°Master, the doctor is alone in his living space. What do I do now?¡± ¡°Let¡¯s wait a bit, first,¡± he said. ¡°Keep an eye on him.¡± Bloodshed kept him updated about the doctor¡¯s actions. The man slowly unwound after work, and about an hour later, he was sprawled out on his couch in his pajamas, turning on his BC as he appeared to slowly drift into sleep. Freddy snorted. No sleep for the wicked, bucko. It¡¯s time to wake up. ¡°Bloodshed. You¡¯re going to appear before the doctor. I will tell you what to say.¡± The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. ¡°Understood.¡± The doctor snickered at something he saw on the BC and scratched his ass. His joy didn¡¯t last long as, suddenly, a waist-tall bloody skeleton appeared in the corner of his vision. The man froze for a moment, and then, his flight response kicked in. ¡°Holy shit!¡± he shouted as he leaped out of his couch and ran for the door. But Bloodshed was faster, cutting him off and raising its claws threateningly. ¡°Move and you¡¯re dead.¡± The doctor froze, shivering in place. ¡°Scream, and you¡¯re dead. Try to ask for help in any way, and you¡¯re dead. Understood? You¡¯re allowed to nod.¡± The doctor nodded, his pajama pants turning wet around his crotch. ¡°Good,¡± Bloodshed¡ªor rather, Freddy talking through it¡ªsaid. ¡°You can call me Skull. You don¡¯t have to be afraid. I am not here to harm you. I am here to give you a business offer.¡± The doctor¡¯s mouth shivered as he struggled to open it. ¡°Wh¡­ Wha-what do you want fro-from me?¡± ¡°Those organs you and you people were harvesting¡ªtell me where you sold them.¡± The man¡¯s eyes flashed. ¡°I¡­ I can¡¯t tell you that! I¡¯m go-going to g-get killed!¡± ¡°You¡¯re going to die if you don¡¯t tell me.¡± ¡°I¡­ Wait, please! We used most of them for our business!¡± ¡°I know the size of the business you were running. There is no way you¡¯ve used all the goods locally. You sold the rest to a third party, correct?¡± The doctor''s throat seized, and he choked on his words. ¡°I¡­ Yes¡­ But I¡¯m serious when I say I can¡¯t tell you!¡± The doctor looked around nervously. ¡°I-I-I-I d-don¡¯t know who you are, b-but you¡¯re playing with your life! Take y-your pet spirit and leave!¡± Bloodshed raised both hands. ¡°Ten¡­¡± It slowly closed one finger. ¡°Nine¡­¡± ¡°Wait! Oh, damn it all! Y-you¡¯re a fool!¡± The doctor pulled his hair, eyes bloodshot and mouth flapping. ¡°Eight¡­ Seven¡­¡± ¡°Six¡­¡± ¡°Five¡­ ¡°Four¡­¡± The doctor groaned. ¡°Three¡­¡± ¡°Two¡­¡± ¡°It¡¯s the adjudicator!¡± he finally shouted. ¡°The local adjudicator! We sold the organs to him! Do you now understand!? I-if anyone learns I told you this, we¡¯re both dead!¡± ¡°Interesting. Can you step into contact with him?¡± ¡°What!? You¡¯re out of your mind! He would kill me if I did so for frivolous reasons!¡± ¡°So you can.¡± ¡°Argh! You are missing the point!¡± ¡°No, doctor, you are missing the point.¡± Bloodshed took a step forward. ¡°Either you cooperate, or you die. You have no right to argue.¡± The doctor squealed and took a reluctant step back. ¡°Now, you are going to teach me how to harvest organs.¡± ¡°This is a waste of time! You are¡ª¡± the doctor¡¯s voice caught in his throat as a small tuft of his hair suddenly fell off his head and right before his eyes. All he saw was a brief, red flash. He whimpered. ¡°I¡­ Shit¡­¡± For the next few hours, the doctor compiled all the necessary information for how to safely and efficiently harvest organs, how to store them, and how to transport them. Then, Bloodshed detailed a certain location close to where the doctor lived and told him to go there. ¡°Remember,¡± Bloodshed whispered. ¡°I¡¯ll be watching you.¡± Then it vanished into the Netherecho. Upon seeing this, the doctor nearly dropped the papers he was holding. ¡°Wha¡­ It vanished¡­? It isn¡¯t a bound spirit¡­? Dear god¡­ What did I get myself into?¡± He obeyed and took the papers outside, walking for a few minutes. Then, he cautiously left them behind a dumpster and looked around. ¡°Here you go¡­¡± he said nervously. ¡°I brought you the papers.¡± Bloodshed suddenly appeared behind him. ¡°Good.¡± The doctor jumped, turning around and grasping his chest. Bloodshed¡¯s grin appeared to widen slightly. ¡°I will be watching you, Doctor. I will be there when you work. I will be there when you¡¯re resting. I will watch you when you sleep. Try telling anyone about this, and I will know. And I will kill you. You will receive your next order soon. For now, take a moment to relax. You deserve a good night of sleep.¡± With a devilish cackle, Bloodshed vanished into the Netherecho, leaving the doctor alone. Looking pale and tired, the doctor turned around and walked back home. A few minutes later, Freddy appeared beside the dumpster, grabbing the folder and wiping some of the dirt off it. ¡°Time to get to work.¡± While he tasked Bloodshed with keeping an eye on the doctor, he went off and gathered everything he needed. He could safely skip most of the safety-related stuff, but he couldn¡¯t do without the proper storage equipment. Then, after a day of reading through the instructions, he got to work. Obviously, that wasn¡¯t enough time to learn all the details of how to do it properly, but again, he hardly needed to be delicate. The most important information was the exact value of the specific organs and the proper way to store them. As for the value of his organs, he was a goddamn treasure trove. Not to mention the fact that he was as healthy as was humanly possible or the fact that he was a peak two-star, but he was also undead. The price of undead organs was several times higher. Then it was just a matter of getting them out. He prepared a part of his room and finally got to work. Although he was already well accustomed to dealing with pain, there was something particularly horrible about taking his own organs out. Peeling his skin off was especially agonizing. That being said, it was actually rather easy. His internal toughness did make the process rather slow, but surgical scalpels could still cut through with enough persistence. On top of that, he had near-total control over the flow of his blood, allowing him to make the process cleaner and more efficient than usual. He took out his heart, liver, lungs, kidneys, and a large patch of his skin. His heart was a rather problematic piece because he had to empty it of all the blood first. Thankfully, he had accounted for this and prepared a large container where he could easily suck the blood right back up later. Once done, he properly stored it all and got to work healing it all back. Recovery took a long time. Missing tissue, especially delicate organ tissue, was bloody expensive to grow back to perfection. It took him a whole day of work. The process was also notably expensive in regard to essence consumption, primarily due to having to move his blood around so much. He knew for a fact that this could be done a lot faster and more efficiently, but with his current method, this was the best he could do. ¡°Well then¡­¡± he said, stashing the container in his storage ring. ¡°Time to go.¡± Freddy left the container hidden in the corner of an abandoned building and then instructed Bloodshed to take the doctor there. The man finally saw the containers and sighed. He walked over and carefully opened them, remaining cautious not to contaminate the goods. As soon as he saw the organs, his eyes shot wide open. The man cautiously examined them, and with every new detail he spotted, he gasped and reeled in shock. ¡°Jesus¡­¡± he muttered. Bloodshed stood by his side, its grin plastered over its bare skull. ¡°Do you think the adjudicator will be interested?¡± ¡°Do I think¡­?¡± The doctor chuckled. ¡°I do not know who you killed for this, but this is incredible. I have never seen organs like these in my life.¡± ¡°All you have to do now is sell them,¡± Bloodshed said. ¡°There is a small recording device in the box to your left. You will use it to record your entire interaction with the adjudicator to ensure there is no funny business.¡± The man gritted his teeth. ¡°What if the adjudicator notices it!?¡± ¡°This is a very stealthy recording device, but there is still a risk that it will be spotted. If that happens, you will likely be killed.¡± Despair crawled into the doctor¡¯s eyes. ¡°But I am not going to be ruthless. For your part, I will give you 10% of the sale.¡± The doctor suddenly perked up. That was a lot of money. But it clearly didn¡¯t seem like it was satisfactory for the risk involved. But Bloodshed wasn¡¯t done. ¡°This, by the way, isn¡¯t the last trade we are going to be making.¡± Its grin widened. ¡°There are plenty of organs left where these came from.¡± The doctor¡¯s eyes shot wide open. ¡°Are they¡­ of the same quality?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Suddenly, the despairing look started to vanish. As numbers flashed before the doctor¡¯s eyes, his unwilling scowl slowly morphed into an expression of excited, expectant joy. On the other side of this interaction, hidden a few buildings away, Freddy leaned his head against the wall, his heart thundering in his chest. This was a massive risk. He would take every precaution imaginable to prevent himself from being discovered. But the danger was still there. The adjudicator would likely be very satisfied with one batch and probably wouldn¡¯t try to track down the doctor¡¯s supply. Once a second batch of such organs appeared, all bets were off. Thankfully, with Bloodshed¡¯s help, Freddy could easily hide the organs in unique locations and then inform the doctor of where they were later. This would minimize the risk of a stake-out. He would also deliver the organs in irregular intervals. That being said, he wasn¡¯t going into this without a long-term plan. For the time being, the adjudicator was someone Freddy definitely couldn¡¯t handle in a fight. But Freddy wasn¡¯t gathering this money without a purpose. He would earn quite a bit through this method. Enough to tackle the Century of Solitude. Chapter 143 - Capitalism Dr. Kenfield had grown up believing in human dignity and moral values. He had studied hard to become a doctor to help people and to make the world a slightly less dark place. He had, of course, been woefully ignorant of just how nasty things were. Archhuman society was rotten to the very core. Once he realized that the rot would claim him too one day, he knew had to make a choice. And he had decided to join the maggots. He had nothing to be proud of given what he¡¯d done. At first, his life had been a miserable hell, full of sleepless nights and guilt that ate him away to the core. But it was truly miraculous what humans could get used to if given enough time, and, well¡­ Enough money. Located in his private laboratory, he worked on examining the organs ¡°Skull¡± had given him. Before he could sell them, he needed to properly certify their quality. With smooth, efficient movements, he collected samples and tested the organs, one by one. Each step of the way to completion, his hands got shakier and his back got sweatier. He had done this same thing hundreds of times. Usually, it was considered best if the organs were extracted from someone who was generally healthy and had no problems with substance abuse. Naturally, if they were a one-star archhuman, that would make their organs even more prized, but archhumans had a tendency to push their endurance and longevity, which often resulted in organs even worse than those of common mortals. An ¡°ideal¡± scenario would be to find a one-star who had cared for their health and hadn¡¯t endured any severe injuries. But the organs he was looking for were a different kind of ideal. This was basically a fantasy, a type of idle daydream a curious mind would conjure while exploring the extremes of what a set of organs could theoretically look like. By the time he was done with his examination, he collapsed into his chair and shook his head. ¡°I can¡¯t sell this¡­¡± he realized. Thus, he waited patiently. It didn¡¯t take long for the little skeleton to appear. The sight of the thing made the doctor¡¯s heart speed up and his throat tighten. ¡°Hello, Mr. Skull¡­¡± ¡°Are you done with the examination?¡± ¡°Yes¡­ and I have some bad news for you.¡± The doctor gulped. ¡°These organs¡­ they were artificially created, weren¡¯t they?¡± The skeleton paused, remaining still for a long few moments. Then, it slowly nodded its head. ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°I see¡­ So I was right¡­¡± He chuckled. ¡°To put it simply, whatever method you¡¯ve used is truly marvelous. Too marvelous. These organs are priceless¡ªand I mean that quite literally. There is no price that can be put on them. Let alone me selling it to the adjudicator, not even the adjudicator could sell it to a potential buyer without getting kidnapped and having the information on the organs¡¯ origins tortured out of him.¡± ¡°What are you trying to say?¡± ¡°I can¡¯t sell these organs, Mr. Skull.¡± He smirked with self-derision. ¡°Threatening my life won¡¯t change my mind, either. I¡¯m a dead man anyway if I try to sell this, and with all due respect, you might very well not be safe, either.¡± The skeleton¡¯s head dropped slightly. ¡°I see.¡± Then it raised a clawed hand threateningly. The doctor flinched, but a smirk still snuck onto his face. ¡°Well then¡­ I predicted this might happen.¡± His smirk vanished. ¡°I¡¯ve really done what I could¡­¡± But to his surprise, the skeleton lowered its hand. ¡°Would you be willing to sell organs of lesser quality?¡± He perked up. ¡°Lesser¡­? They would have to be much worse than this to be sold safely.¡± ¡°How much worse?¡± ¡°I¡­ Well¡­ These organs, they¡¯re pretty much perfect, almost as if they had been bathed in supreme-quality healing. Even those without illness would be willing to swap their organs for these, because these are just that much better. Never mind that they¡¯re undead, they¡¯re also incredibly tough and even seem to have adapted to handling an extreme burden, despite having no signs that they had ever been put through harsh treatment. ¡°Perhaps if you could artificially create a few flaws or to somehow deteriorate the quality of the tissue, we wouldn¡¯t raise enough eyebrows to get into trouble. There are plenty of artificial organ farms in the empire¡ªas long as we provide goods that won¡¯t be sought after by four-stars, we can get away with it.¡± ¡°And if I produced organs with this ¡®reduced value,¡¯ how much would they be worth?¡± The doctor paused. ¡°Well¡­ Hmm¡­ Hard to say, really. They could be sold for all sorts of prices depending on where they were being sold, but wholesale, from my hands to the adjudicator¡¯s¡­ a whole set would likely go from fifty to sixty million dollars.¡± ¡°Thank you for the information,¡± the skeleton said. And then, it leaped forward, clawing the doctor¡¯s throat out. *** After telling Bloodshed to kill the doctor, Freddy commanded it to shred the organs into bits and to wreck the whole lab. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. If what the doctor had said was true, then letting the man live would be a horrible mistake. That being said, he wasn¡¯t done trying to sell his organs. But he would have to adjust his approach, and, well¡­ he¡¯d have to look for another proxy. He slowly got up and left the abandoned building he was hiding in. For the time being, he headed home to get some rest. There were still a few days left until his vacation was over. He¡¯d use that time well. He sent Bloodshed away to continue spying on more doctors in hope that he could find another crooked bastard. Meanwhile, he followed the doctor¡¯s advice and got to work. His approach was quite simple¡ªhe extracted the set of his perfect organs and started healing. Then, way before the healing approached anywhere near supreme quality, he took the new set of organs out. Not only did this drastically reduce the quality of the goods, but it allowed him to produce a much greater number of organs. That being said, he would also have these organs tested first to ensure that they wouldn¡¯t be problematic to sell. Within less than a day, Bloodshed¡¯s efforts beared fruit. Not only did Bloodshed find a rotten doctor, it found a whole other organ harvesting operation. This one, however, seemed to be much more humble in scale, and from what they gathered, it was privately owned by the doctor doing the operations. When he realized who this doctor was, Freddy was quite shocked. It was Dr. Keith Orland¡ªthe son of the current owner of Strata. The operation itself was also quite different in nature from the one Valhalla discovered. Here, it appeared that they were considerably more specialized. They actually gave primes to their patients to turn them into archhumans first, and then ran a number of experiments on them, feeding them substances and administering a slew of treatments to try to enhance the quality of the organs. While they sold far fewer organs than their ruined counterpart, they created products of much higher quality. It would likely be far easier to sell his product through this person than the previous doctor. But there was a problem. This was the son of one of the richest men in the whole city¡ªhe wasn¡¯t some nobody. This was reflected in the quality of the guards keeping watch over this place. It was all two-stars, and many were close to the peak, too. While Freddy could easily send Bloodshed to kill the doctor, could he actually control him? Threats like those he directed at the other doctor likely wouldn¡¯t work, since this guy was under much stricter watch and was far better protected. Of course, he always had the option of just selling the organs directly to them. At first, he completely rejected this notion. He didn¡¯t want to do business with them. He didn¡¯t want to enrich them by giving them such an opportunity. But as he had this thought, he knew that it was more than a little hypocritical. He had already intended to sell his organs to the adjudicator. And the man wasn¡¯t going to use them all himself, he was obviously going to sell them up the supply chain and get wealthy off it. Given the adjudicator was willing to deal with such business, he clearly wasn¡¯t the most upright stalk in the bean garden. And taking a step back, he realized that he was already doing plenty of business with the local factions, wasn¡¯t he? Sophia¡¯s treatment, the purchase of his apartment, selling stuff he gathered on delves¡ªbasically anything that wasn¡¯t dealt directly through Valhalla was already benefiting these bastards in one way or another, and he knew that even Valhalla was often forced to do business with the other factions because they couldn¡¯t realistically supply every single thing they needed to keep things running. This was just the reality of living in a capitalist society. Everyone who did business benefited from the system, and whether individuals liked it or not, the value they produced could end up serving shitty people, and the goods they purchased often came from unethical sources. Now, Freddy was far from delusional. He had literally worked in a death camp deep in Faralethal. He knew exactly where many, if not most, of the valuable resources came from, resources that ordinary folk relied on in their day to day lives. But he also wasn¡¯t an ideologue. Trying to protest this system was laughably naive and only served to hinder his goals in the long run. If he ever wanted to actually make a difference in a meaningful way, he could only do so if he had enough power to directly change things. And he doubted he could get that far by avoiding buying and selling stuff. That being said, he naturally had his bottom line. He wanted nothing to do with directly exploiting others and would try his best to always do more good than bad. And of course, he still had to worry about his own safety, and the safety of Valhalla. And finally, he wouldn¡¯t exactly be doing Strata a favour here. Every red cent he earned off them would be converted into power he¡¯d use to eventually bring them down. The first thing he did was follow one of the guards that worked there to his home. Then, he used Bloodshed to intimidate the man and let him know his life was being held in Freddy¡¯s, or, well ¡°Skull¡¯s¡± hands. He made sure to have Bloodshed disguise itself this time. It simply put on a black trash bag so that their target couldn¡¯t see exactly what it looked like. This man then served as a messenger and conveyed Freddy¡¯s deal to Dr. Orland. Things went smoothly once the man delivered two identical organs as a sample¡ªtwo left kidneys, which proved that Freddy was indeed capable of delivering on his offer. After going back and forth a few times, they managed to hash out a deal¡ªFreddy would provide them with organs by leaving them inside of storage rings at secret locations and then informing them about where he¡¯d hidden them. In turn, they would pay him for every set of organs he sold. He managed to negotiate fifty million dollars per set. This was perhaps not the best deal he could get, but it was good enough. It wouldn¡¯t take long to collect the money Freddy needed for his purposes. As for how they paid him, that was simple. They just sent the money to his bank account. Well, he gave them an anonymous proxy account that he opened at the bank specifically for this purpose. While this seemed like a possible privacy risk, it wasn¡¯t. Nobody, not even the adjudicator¡ªhell, not even an Overlord had the qualifications to discover who owned a bank account. It was hard to encapsulate just how sacred imperial banks were in the world of archhumans. And it made sense. How many people in power were trying to privately do business? Too many to count, really. If their privacy wasn¡¯t absolutely safe, nobody would trust imperial banks. And for the privacy of the few to be truly safe, everyone¡¯s privacy had to be sacred. And at any rate, this method was certainly safer than trying to recover the money through a physical exchange. Sure, he could send Bloodshed to get it, but Bloodshed couldn¡¯t take physical objects with it to the Netherecho. If someone competent enough staked out the money, it could endanger both Freddy and Bloodshed. This was simply a better option. Well, it did force him to pay 5% in taxes and a pittance in banking fees, but that was an acceptable sacrifice. For the first trade, Freddy sold five pairs of organs. Only once the immense amount of money landed in his bank account did he realize just how much money he was going to earn. His vacation finally reached its end, and as soon as it did, he was invited to have a conversation with Thor. A very important update. Please refer to the author notes below. Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. Thank you Whatcha lookin'' at, pal? There ain''t no chapta'' ''ere, check da notes ye scoundrel! This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Chapter 144 - Power Tablet Freddy walked into Thor¡¯s office, and as soon as the two men made eye contact, they both sighed. ¡°Welcome back,¡± Thor said, raising his eyebrows with a strained smile. ¡°How is your friend?¡± ¡°She¡¯s¡±¡ªhe gestured in a so-so motion¡ª¡±muttering sometimes. Not quite there to¡­ being there, but I can see subtle improvement.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t lose hope,¡± Thor said. ¡°There¡¯s always a chance she¡¯ll recover.¡± ¡°Yeah¡­¡± ¡°Anyway¡­ what about you?¡± ¡°I¡¯m also doing a bit better.¡± He smirked sadly. ¡°It sucks. But I¡¯m slowly coming to terms with it. I¡¯m not losing hope¡­ but¡­ yeah¡­¡± ¡°I¡¯m glad to hear you¡¯re doing all right. I uh¡­¡± He chuckled. ¡°I heard from the therapist.¡± Freddy winced. ¡°You wanna hear what he said?¡± Thor snickered. ¡°Bro said, and I quote, ¡®I don¡¯t believe my brand of mental healthcare is suitable for addressing Mr. Cliff¡¯s problem.¡¯ In therapist speak, that roughly translates to ¡®this motherfucker¡¯s incurable!¡¯¡± Freddy chuckled awkwardly. ¡°Yeah¡­¡± ¡°And what a surprise, too¡­¡± Thor got out of his chair and walked around the table, leaning against it. ¡°All along, the man had been claiming that your treatment was going well. How did it then, so suddenly, go from going well to having gone nowhere at all?¡± Freddy shrugged. Thor sighed and shook his head. ¡°I think it¡¯s becoming increasingly obvious that this line of work isn¡¯t something you¡¯re suited for.¡± Freddy tensed. Thor got up, walking around Freddy as he continued, ¡°I understand that what happened to your friend had influenced your behavior. But you should be intelligent enough to understand that this is impermissible. If everyone in Valhalla acted like you did just because something bad happened to them recently, we¡¯d have been destroyed a long time ago.¡± ¡°So what? Are you firing me?¡± ¡°Firing?¡± Thor laughed. ¡°Come on now, it¡¯s not like you¡¯re my employee. But no, I¡¯m not ¡®firing¡¯ you. That being said, I won¡¯t be taking you to future raids.¡± Freddy¡¯s chest puffed up, but he slowly deflated as he turned his head away. ¡°I see.¡± He had been expecting this to happen, even if he hadn¡¯t been willing to admit it to himself. He wondered where he would go from there, his mind flushed with concern. ¡°So what now?¡± he asked nervously. Thor stopped. ¡°You¡¯re seriously powerful, man.¡± He held his arms behind his back, his hand tightly gripping a forearm. ¡°I hadn¡¯t expected you to be able to take out two three-stars by yourself. And that quickly, too. Trust me when I say I don¡¯t make this decision lightly,¡± he said, his head dropping slightly. ¡°If I could take you along on every raid, the number of casualties would drop drastically.¡± ¡°You can still¡ª¡± ¡°No!¡± Thor shouted. ¡°No, I can¡¯t.¡± He pinched his brow and clicked his tongue. ¡°Look¡­ You need some time to grow as a person. You¡¯re still young and inexperienced. I believe that, given a few years to mature, you¡¯ll be good. But now, as you are, I think you¡¯d be better off focusing on something else.¡± ¡°Like what?¡± Thor adopted a serious expression. ¡°During our raids, we leave a good number of experienced members behind to guard the base. I can be back rather quickly, too, but still, these moments are undeniably an opening for our enemies.¡± ¡°You want me to act as a guard dog?¡± ¡°I want you to act as a protector. And to that end, I¡¯d also like you to move to Valhalla¡¯s headquarters.¡± Freddy frowned. Thor shrugged. ¡°I can accommodate some of your wishes, but if you want me to continue supporting you as I have so far, I¡¯m going to need you to compromise.¡± He sighed again. ¡°Honestly, if you promised you''d never go out of control like that again, I¡¯d believe you. I¡¯d force myself to believe you. That¡¯s how valuable you are. But the others¡­ You have to earn their trust back. Before that happens, I won¡¯t be able to overcome their protests.¡± ¡°And what else do you want me to do?¡± Freddy asked. ¡°I know that just keeping guard duty won¡¯t be enough.¡± ¡°You¡¯re right.¡± Thor seemingly hesitated for a long moment. ¡°I want you to help me tame the underground passage.¡± Freddy¡¯s eyebrows jumped. ¡°You¡¯re planning on using it?¡± ¡°Not any time soon, no. But that doesn¡¯t stop us from exploring it more thoroughly and finding useful paths. Maybe there¡¯s even a dungeon or two we could use.¡± Freddy nodded. ¡°Okay. I can do that.¡± For now, all he could do was accept the decision. He was lucky Thor was still willing to support him. ¡°Don¡¯t be down, man,¡± Thor insisted. ¡°For what it¡¯s worth, I believe you¡¯ll be just as valuable staying here as you¡¯d be if you went out.¡± ¡°You really think that?¡± ¡°No, honestly, not really.¡± He chuckled. ¡°But hey, maybe you can find some valuable stuff in the interspace. You never know. We always need more materials.¡± Freddy chuckled back. ¡°I¡¯ll kill a dragon or two.¡± Thor snorted. ¡°Sure thing, buddy. Have fun with that one. Anyway, enough about that. I have something to show you.¡± ¡°Hmm?¡± Freddy hummed. ¡°What?¡± ¡°But first let me ask you a question. Do you still intend to go through with upgrading Abyssal Depths?¡± Freddy nodded without hesitation. Thor sighed. ¡°If that¡¯s the case, I have a gift for you.¡± He focused for a moment, and a second later, with a puff of air, a tablet appeared in his hands. It looked a bit chipped, and it smelled like stale blood. ¡°Here you go.¡± He offered it to Freddy. The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. Freddy looked at it with a quirked eyebrow. There were plenty of blood tablets for him to use as a comprehension reference in the library, but he could tell that this wasn¡¯t the same thing. As soon as he grabbed hold of it, his eyes shot wide open. ¡°A power tablet!¡± Back when he first became an archhuman, Freddy had used ether scrolls to acquire a few abilities. This tablet was similar in concept, but far, far greater in quality. Those scrolls were nothing but a shortcut for relatively easy to develop abilities, and they came with a great number of downsides. What he held in his hands at that moment was a power tablet. Its surface was inscribed with etches and symbols, and it shimmered with a bloody gleam. It, too, could be used to acquire an ability. But this was no mere shortcut. Abilities granted by power tablets were often impossible to develop through ordinary means. And this was no question of essence manipulation, either. It was a matter of concept comprehension. Humanity didn¡¯t even know how to produce such artifacts yet. They could only be discovered in the interspace, and they often held incredibly powerful abilities within. These tablets weren¡¯t single-use like ether scrolls, but they did take a long time to recharge, a decade on average. And they weren¡¯t as simple to absorb, either. He took a quick peek into the inner workings of the ability it held within, only to be equal parts shocked and confused. It was a defensive ability that could harden blood in a scale-like pattern all across the surface of his body. The scales varied in size and shape, offering maximum coverage without impeding mobility in the slightest. He could also feel that there were depths to this ability he couldn¡¯t quite understand. It didn¡¯t just offer physical defense, it also provided a layer of defense against essence flow. Although he could perhaps imitate a crude version of this ability, even if he had a lifetime to do it, he couldn¡¯t replicate it entirely. The pattern of the scales was incredibly intricate. Just the trial and error needed to emulate the sheer level of detail would take decades of work. But even beyond that, the scales weren¡¯t mere hardened blood. They also appeared to create a profound connection to the nervous system, acting as an organic, seamless modification to the body. Once done examining it, he raised his head and looked at Thor with a conflicted look. ¡°What?¡± Thor grinned. ¡°Why¡¯re you looking at me like that, you ungrateful bastard?¡± ¡°This is a priceless artifact. Are you sure you¡¯re willing to give this to me?¡± ¡°Well, you can use it and give it back if you want.¡± ¡°That is still a huge favor, Thor.¡± ¡°I know. But you really need it.¡± ¡°Why? And what does it have to do with Abyssal Depths?¡± ¡°Because it will allow you to wear lighter armor.¡± Freddy scowled. ¡°What?¡± ¡°Freddy, you need to be faster,¡± Thor said with a strict look in his eye. ¡°You are incredibly durable, and even if you take damage, it''s inconsequential as long as you stay alive. Your biggest weakness, and your greatest challenge, is going to be your speed.¡± ¡°I see¡­¡± Indeed, with these scales for defense, he could wear lighter armor, and even possibly omit armor entirely. He sighed as he remembered the cursed clothing that was still waiting in his storage ring. Not only did he have two cursed items already, he couldn¡¯t use Leviathan¡¯s Fury without completely destroying any armor he was wearing. With a cheeky smile, he pulled out the cursed material and handed it to Thor. ¡°Ew, what the fuck is this, dude?¡± the man asked with a scowl as he held the filthy clothing. ¡°Take a look in the Netherecho.¡± Thor raised an eyebrow and complied. His eyes shot wide open and his mouth gaped. ¡°Wow. Where the hell did you get this?¡± ¡°Let¡¯s just say it was homemade. With love.¡± ¡°Uh. Sure.¡± He examined the shredded, patchwork clothing. ¡°Why are you showing me this?¡± ¡°I guess you could see it as repayment for the tablet.¡± ¡°Nah, dude, no. The tablet is an investment. I¡¯ll get my due for that as long as you stay in Valhalla. That being said, I could arrange to have this made into a light armor for you if you want. You could get some nice effects from it.¡± ¡°Sadly, I don¡¯t think I can make much use of armor,¡± he said, thinking back on Leviathan¡¯s Fury. ¡°That¡¯s not a problem,¡± Thor declared. ¡°Cursed material is very flexible in use. I could have this transformed into a necklace instead.¡± Freddy frowned. ¡°How the hell are you gonna convert all that cloth into a necklace?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t you worry about that. We got some great craftsmen on our side.¡± ¡°Hmm¡­¡± Freddy already had the Warrior King¡¯s Pendant, so he didn¡¯t necessarily need another cursed item. But that being said, he hadn¡¯t really used the Warrior King¡¯s Pendant in a fight yet. The effect was extremely obvious and flashy, so he had to make sure to keep it hidden. Another necklace might be worth it. Given the composition of the aura, the necklace was likely to affect either the cost or the power of water abilities. Even if he didn¡¯t use it in combat, such an item could be great for training, especially with the more stubborn abilities like Thousand Wet Hells. ¡°Have it made into a necklace, then,¡± Freddy said. ¡°Sure thing.¡± Thor chuckled. ¡°Anyway, I¡¯m about to go watch the trainees for a while. How about joining me?¡± ¡°I¡­ Nah. I¡¯m gonna go train for now. I haven¡¯t been doing much these days. I¡¯m feeling the itch.¡± ¡°Suit yourself.¡± The two men headed out of the office, and as Thor closed the door, they immediately turned separate ways. ¡°Hey Freddy. See you later man.¡± ¡°See you later.¡± The first thing Freddy did was rush to the library. There, he grabbed hold of the first blood tablet he could find and headed off to meditate. He wanted to absorb the power tablet as soon as possible, but he wouldn¡¯t do so without preparation. The ability was incredibly delicate and complex, and without sufficient understanding of blood concepts, he feared being unable to properly inherit the power. Rather than head home for that day, he stayed at Valhalla. He had no plans to sell the apartment or to truly ¡°move out,¡± but Thor had granted him accommodation in the headquarters, and for the time being, he would be living there. He also convinced Thor to let him have weekends off of training, partly to spend time with Sophia, and partly so he could work on extracting his organs. For a few days, all he did was meditate on blood concepts. He consulted Bloodshed, who was obviously an expert on the subject, but while the skeleton had profound understanding of blood, that didn¡¯t mean it could put everything it knew into words. Or that everything even could be put into words. Having the power tablet by his side was also very helpful. He could reference the inner workings of the essence flow in the ability with what he could feel in the other power tablets, allowing him to home in on the most valuable tablets to meditate on. Thankfully, he didn¡¯t need to fully comprehend the whole ability. Just enough to absorb it properly. After four days of meditation, he was finally ready to accept it into his soul. As he held the power tablet in his hands, he was sweating. It was nerve-racking knowing that, if he fucked up, he would be wasting an incomparably precious resource. He couldn¡¯t afford to mess it up. Thus, he ended up procrastinating a bit, looking for random crap to ¡°prepare¡± before he got started. He ended up meditating and pondering the tablets a bit, and spent some time asking Bloodshed for advice. Once he felt he truly ran out of distractions, he finally sighed and reached for the tablet that was now stored deep in his storage ring. However, as he took a peek, he also spotted something interesting. All the way in the back of his storage ring were the handful of vials of blood he had found in Janhalar¡¯s storage ring way back when. It was one of the last three items he still didn¡¯t know what to do with. But now that he finally thought about it¡­ Couldn¡¯t he ask Bloodshed? ¡°Hey, Bloodshed?¡± ¡°What is it, Master?¡± ¡°Can you take a look at something real quick?¡± he asked as he extracted one of the vials. ¡°Alright,¡± it said as it exited its shell and appeared in reality. Freddy handed it the vial and Bloodshed accepted it. For the first time in his life, he saw Bloodshed react with pure, evident shock. It grasped the vial, looking between it and Freddy over and over. ¡°Master¡­ Please tell me you have more.¡± New cover! Onto the notes! Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. Chapter 145 - Cheater Five vials of blood waited on the stony ground below Freddy¡¯s feet. Bloodshed stood, clearly agitated, as it moved its bony claws over the vials. Freddy gulped, nervously waiting for the verdict. ¡°Master,¡± Bloodshed finally spoke after minutes of looking over the blood. ¡°This is an invaluable resource.¡± ¡°What is that even?¡± he asked. Obviously, it was blood. But what kind of blood? Thinking on it further, these clearly weren¡¯t ordinary blood samples. For starters, they were tucked away safely in Janhalar¡¯s ring. In the private storage of a Lord and patriarch of a clan of blood users. It was easy to conclude that it was special. But even beyond that, just how long had these vials waited in the ring? It had already been over a year since he acquired them, yet, the blood inside still seemed to be brimming with vitality. Bloodshed sat there for a moment, and then, raising a delicate claw, pointed at the vialed samples, one by one. ¡°This is no ordinary blood, Master. It might not be obvious to the naked eye, but this blood is an ether construct.¡± Freddy¡¯s eyes shot wide open. ¡°What!? An ether construct!?¡± He looked over the vials. ¡°How is it¡­ in reality?¡± There were, of course, ways for ether constructs to take form outside the Netherecho. Spirits and eidola were a great example of this, but there were some cases where even a regular wisp of ether could worm its way into reality, such as when an eidolon died and the barrier between reality and the Netherecho temporarily cracked. Any form of ether construct that could keep its form in reality was an invaluable treasure with numerous uses. Which begged two important questions¡ªwhat was this blood? And what could it be used for? ¡°Tell me, Bloodshed; what is this?¡± ¡°I vaguely recognize this substance. Back when you summoned me for the first time, Master, a drop of blood with similar properties had been mixed into the pool powering my summon. But it was far weaker, back then. It was as if that drop was barely touched by this substance. Yet, even that small drop had vastly enhanced my power. This¡­ this is that same substance, but refined to absolute purity.¡± Freddy¡¯s eyes narrowed for a moment. ¡°I see¡­ This must be some sort of treasure used by the Kraven clan.¡± A rueful grin crept up on his face. ¡°And this must be a good portion of their stash. Sheesh, I wonder if they ever recovered from losing that guy. So¡± ¡ªhe gulped nervously¡ª¡±what can it be used for?¡± ¡°I want all of it,¡± Bloodshed said without even a moment to think about it. Then it jolted as it caught itself. ¡°I apologize¡­ I am struggling to control myself.¡± ¡°It¡¯s okay¡­¡± He smiled. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t mind giving it to you if you think you can use it well. But I would like to know what it is and what it can do, first.¡± Bloodshed nodded. ¡°This substance is concentrated structured blood aura. It contains within it a sea of insights into blood and its properties. It can be used to combine with any form of blood-affinity ether construct, which will result in a drastic enhancement of the blood laws contained within.¡± ¡°So if you take it, you¡¯ll become stronger?¡± ¡°Stronger¡­¡± It looked down at the blood with an avaricious gleam in its bloody eye sockets. ¡°Indeed. But it is more than that.¡± It looked back up. ¡°It won¡¯t make me directly grow in power. But it will deepen my complexity as a construct. I will be able to use blood in new ways.¡± Freddy¡¯s eyebrows jumped slightly. Sentient ether constructs also had ¡°abilities,¡± so to speak. They weren¡¯t called that, but that¡¯s basically what they were¡ªstructured ways to use their element. But while humans could develop new abilities as they pleased, the abilities of sentient ether constructs were part of what they were, and were determined at the moment of their creation. Of course, constructs could change as they developed in power, allowing them to acquire ¡°new¡± abilities, but even those were already part of them, they just couldn¡¯t be expressed before a certain level of power. Adding new abilities to a construct was basically no different from tinkering with the concept they represented. Needless to say, that also meant it would affect not only Bloodshed, but also the ability it was part of. ¡°How will that affect Blood Sacrifice?¡± Freddy asked. ¡°Only in positive ways,¡± it answered. ¡°I will have more control over the form I take and the time required to summon me will be reduced.¡± ¡°Ha!¡± Freddy chirped involuntarily. ¡°Well what the hell are you waiting for, drink up!¡± he urged. ¡°Master, please wait. There are three more ways we could use this blood.¡± He scowled. ¡°Okay¡­ go on.¡± ¡°First, we could use apply it to your ring,¡± it said, pointing at the ring on Freddy¡¯s finger. His eyes widened. ¡°What would that do?¡± ¡°It could add another effect to the item.¡± ¡°What!? Really!?¡± ¡°But there is a catch. Since that ring already has three separate effects, adding another would be difficult. It is possible that even all five vials wouldn¡¯t be enough to awaken another effect. And even then, we have no way to predict what it would do.¡± This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. ¡°Shit. And you got my hopes up. Okay, fine, what else can we do?¡± ¡°We could apply it to the power tablet.¡± He scowled. ¡°And what would that do?¡± ¡°It would greatly enhance the quality of the ability within.¡± ¡°And let me guess, this would also take like all the blood?¡± ¡°No. We could use as little as a single vial. But the more we used, the better the outcome would be.¡± ¡°And what¡¯s the third choice?¡± ¡°For you to absorb it yourself.¡± Freddy paused. ¡°Okay¡­ And what would that do?¡± ¡°It would greatly enhance your future insights into the blood affinity.¡± ¡°That¡­ I¡­¡± He paused, taking a moment to think about it. ¡°Oh that¡¯s good.¡± In the short run, the third option was the least impactful. But in the long run? There was a reason why the power tablet was so powerful. If Freddy¡¯s ability-creation skills grew even just a bit, the long-term benefits would be amazing. ¡°What¡¯s your opinion on this?¡± Freddy asked. ¡°You¡¯re the expert on the subject here. How would you distribute the blood?¡± ¡°You¡¯re asking me¡­?¡± Bloodshed looked at the vials. ¡°It depends. For the most reliable and most immediate effect, you should use it to enhance the power tablet.¡± ¡°Really? Not going to lie, that seems a bit like a waste.¡± ¡°It wouldn¡¯t be,¡± Bloodshed insisted. ¡°The effect would be drastic if you used all five vials on it. Especially with the ability¡¯s power to block essence flow. Whether now or in the future, this choice wouldn¡¯t be one you¡¯d regret, and it would take no additional work to make use of it.¡± ¡°Damn. And here I was willing to write that choice off. That¡¯s why I rely on the expert,¡± he said with a grin and offered Bloodshed a fistbump. Bloodshed looked at the fist in confusion. Freddy was about to remind it what a fistbump was, but it suddenly jolted. ¡°Ah, yes.¡± It bumped his fist. ¡°Like this?¡± ¡°Hahaha! Yep, buddy, that¡¯s how you do it.¡± He leaned back. ¡°And what about the other options?¡± ¡°Using it on yourself or the ring would grant the best long-term effects.¡± ¡°Which would be better?¡± he asked. ¡°That depends. If you used it on the ring, you risk it all going to naught, but if it worked, the investment would certainly pay off.¡± It looked at the ring. ¡°The fourth effect would undoubtedly be incredible. Taking it for yourself would be less risky.¡± ¡°Hmmm¡­ I see¡­¡± He sighed. ¡°And what about you?¡± The skeleton froze. ¡°Me¡­?¡± Its head dropped a bit at a time, until it was looking straight down. Droplets of blood dripped from its drenched skull, falling just a little short of the vials. ¡°I believe that using them on me would be a waste.¡± ¡°What? Why?¡± ¡°I can¡¯t grow in power, Master,¡± it said, turning to look away. ¡°Even now, I can barely stand by your side in a fight unless you summon me through Blood Sacrifice. Even if this made me more powerful, soon enough, I will be of no use at all.¡± ¡°Then I¡¯ll summon you through Blood Sacrifice!¡± ¡°No,¡± it said. ¡°You might not get the chance. Blood Sacrifice is too situational. Without enough blood, summoning me is a waste of time.¡± ¡°What? Where is this coming from? Why are you so insecure suddenly?¡± ¡°I am aware of my utility. I know I will always be useful to you, Master. But the reality is that I am not a reliable source of power. If you face a situation where you can¡¯t rely on me¡­ It would all be for nothing.¡± Freddy went silent for a moment, and then he smiled, blowing a bit of air through his nose. ¡°Alright then.¡± He picked up a vial. ¡°I guess this will be enough for me,¡± he said. Then he pushed the other four vials to Bloodshed. ¡°And these are for you.¡± Bloodshed froze. ¡°Master, please.¡± ¡°Bloodshed,¡± he called softly. ¡°Do you remember where we got these vials?¡± ¡°I¡ª¡± ¡°Do you or don¡¯t you?¡± ¡°I do not forget things, Master.¡± ¡°Then you should remember all the times you saved my ass. These vials, I got them with your help.¡± He pulled out the Warrior King¡¯s Pendant. ¡°This pendant, too. My very life also, like three times at this point.¡± His expression softened and he snickered. ¡°Actually, here you go¡±¡ªhe placed the fifth vial on the pile¡ª¡°take this one, too.¡± ¡°Master¡ª¡± ¡°Bloodshed.¡± He took a deep breath and smiled. ¡°I honestly don¡¯t see myself as some sort of gifted genius. And, if we¡¯re being fair, I¡¯m nobody special. Without your help¡ª¡± ¡°Don¡¯t say that!¡± Bloodshed shouted, startling Freddy into a silence. ¡°You are more incredible than you can currently appreciate, Master. I wouldn¡¯t pick a ¡®nobody¡¯ to serve.¡± It clenched its bony fists. ¡°But you can be a real bonehead sometimes! Even more than me! Do not let your emotions sway you into making a choice you will regret! Please!¡± Freddy was left stunned. Speechless. What had Bloodshed ever said anything like this to him? Even more¡­ for it to rebel against him like this¡­ He grinned. ¡°Come on, buddy.¡± He rubbed Bloodshed¡¯s skull. ¡°I know I can be a real dumbass at times, but I¡¯m not being rash now. You said that these vials could make Blood Sacrifice cast faster?¡± Bloodshed nodded slowly. ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Well that would already make it a step more reliable.¡± ¡°But without blood¡ª¡± He raised a hand. ¡°Bloodshed, I know what you¡¯re trying to say, but for someone who claims not to forget things, you¡¯re forgetting something very important.¡± ¡°And what is that?¡± Freddy grinned. ¡°This ring requires Bloodshed to grow,¡± he said, pointing at the Blood Ring coiled around his ring finger. ¡°And this¡±¡ªhe raised the Warrior King¡¯s Pendant¡ª¡±requires fighting against superior foes.¡± His grin widened. ¡°We¡¯ve delved many times, but I can¡¯t exactly summon you willy-nilly when there might be someone watching. But now I¡¯ve got plenty of confidence that I can tackle wild interspace by myself. And there just happens to be a private passage in the basement.¡± ¡°Even without these vials, my help would suffice.¡± ¡°Well I don¡¯t need you to just suffice,¡± he said, suddenly turning serious. ¡°You aren¡¯t a tool, Bloodshed. You¡¯re a cheat. Just like my talent, your existence is something that breaks the rules.¡± The smile returned to his face. ¡°Look, you can sing my praises all you want, that still doesn¡¯t change the fact that I only got to where I am through being a filthy cheater. I got plenty of shit I shouldn¡¯t have ever gotten my hands on with your help. And I plan on continuing to rob the world blind.¡± ¡°Master¡­¡± ¡°Just take it, Bloodshed. And you can say whatever the hell you want, I can tell you want these vials. Come on, look at you; you¡¯re drooling at the sight of them.¡± It touched its dripping jaw. ¡°This is blood.¡± ¡°You¡¯re all blood. Why would your drool be water?¡± Bloodshed chuckled. Freddy froze, staring in disbelief. ¡°Holy shit¡­ did you just laugh?¡± ¡°I scoffed.¡± ¡°Nah, nah, nah, that was a laugh! I fucking heard it!¡± Ignoring Freddy, Bloodshed pulled the vials closer. ¡°I will use your generous gift, Master.¡± It raised its head to look at him. ¡°Thank you.¡± He smiled. Then he scoffed. ¡°Come on, get to work. I ain¡¯t got all day.¡± He leaned in with gleeful excitement on his face and rubbed his hands. ¡°I can¡¯t wait to see what it does to you.¡± Chapter 146 - Crimson Dragon Scales Bloodshed sat on the ground, surrounded by the five vials. Freddy waited a bit further away from it, quietly watching the process. After a few minutes of focusing, Bloodshed finally raised its head. It lifted its bony arms, and with a burst of its will, the vials cracked apart, and the blood floated out from within. The viscous, shimmering liquid washed over Bloodshed¡¯s bones, absorbing into them. Freddy momentarily witnessed runes of all sorts forming on Bloodshed¡¯s bones as the blood absorbed, and he could even glimpse a few valuable truths about the nature of blood from within. The moment the blood finished absorbing, a massive, uneven shell of runes manifested into the air around Bloodshed. The inside suddenly became blurry. With pure shock, Freddy realized that this shell was an exact replica of the ether shell holding Blood Sacrifice¡ªit was the naked transcription of everything Bloodshed was¡ªand it was rapidly changing. The runes along the surface shifted, deepening in their profundity, and the shape of the cage shuffled slightly, like a cloud of bloody truth slowly moving with the wind. Suddenly, the shifting stopped, and the shell began to shrink, taking the form of a roughly humanoid figure the same height as Bloodshed. With a gentle yet sinister tinkling, like the sound of drops of blood dripping into a lake, the runes slowly shattered and absorbed into the figure. And with it, the shape beneath slowly started to form. A deep brown cloth was the first thing that took clear shape. It appeared profoundly filthy and drenched. It slowly shifted until it was hewed into a hooded shawl. Beneath the hood, he could vaguely make out the formation of a skull. Starting from the head, a skeleton dripping in blood grew into the shawl, revealing nothing but the feet, hands, and the face. The changes stopped. And finally, the skeletal head¡¯s empty eye sockets started to glow with a dim, sinister crimson light. The light formed two red rings, appearing like pupils in a pool of absolute darkness. Freddy grinned. ¡°Looking scary as shit there, pal.¡± Bloodshed raised its hands, admiring them. ¡°I feel¡­ good¡­ Comfortable.¡± ¡°Glad to hear it.¡± He smile widened. ¡°So¡­ what can you do now?¡± It flinched, turning its head to look at him. Suddenly, with a loud metallic clang, a bloody blade formed starting from its left hand. It raised the blade to admire it. Then, it lifted its right hand. The bones on its palm appeared to sweat out sizzling blood. Then, with a swing of its arm, it sent a splash of acidic blood into the nearby wall. The blood sizzled and smoked, melting some of the stone as it dripped down. Next, Bloodshed formed a whip of blood. It had the quality of rubber. Bloodshed swung it at the wall. It smacked against the bare stone, leaving deep marks and cracks where it struck. And finally, Bloodshed appeared to¡­ dry up. The blood along its bones appeared to vanish, and a sinister red light replaced it, smoking out of the shawl like a crimson miasma. In an instant, Bloodshed vanished from where it stood, running around the chamber at incredible speed as it jumped and hopped, spinning in the air with ease. It did also trip a few times, but that was expected, given that this was the first time it was attempting to move like this. All this time, Freddy watched with eyes wide open. There were three main paths for the blood affinity¡ªCrimson Mercury, Red Venom, and Rich Blood. But there were other paths, too, although they were significantly less popular. One of these paths was called Sanguine Gum, and turned blood into a rubbery substance. It wasn¡¯t commonly seen among blood users, but it was by far the most popular non-main path. Bloodshed appeared to be capable of utilizing all of these forms of blood. That was utterly insane. This wasn¡¯t a small upgrade to its utility. In fact, it was fair to say that it had reached a completely new level. With a satisfied smile, Freddy chuckled to himself. ¡°I guess my investment paid off.¡± Suddenly, Bloodshed tripped again and fell to the ground. This time, it didn¡¯t get back up. ¡°Bloodshed!?¡± he yelped as he jumped to his feet and ran to it. ¡°It¡¯s all right,¡± it said as it slowly pushed itself back up. ¡°I appear to have spent my reserves. Apologies, Master.¡± ¡°That¡¯s okay, it¡¯s cool. You did good, Bloodshed.¡± He lifted it, patting it on the back. ¡°You did good. Now go to sleep.¡± Freddy thought he heard a small scoff escape Bloodshed¡¯s lips, and in the next moment, the skeleton vanished, melting into the Blood Ring and appearing back in its shell. The shell had also changed quite considerably. With a satisfied smile, he sat down and pulled out the power tablet. ¡°Can¡¯t let my pet outdo me, can I now?¡± He had studied enough. There was no reason to postpone taking the ability anymore. He took a deep breath, and focused on the inscriptions on the surface of the tablet. He could feel them respond to his attention, like a magnet trying to pull into his soul. This time, he gave them a push, and just like that, a number of runes flew from the surface of the tablet and rushed into his soul. The power was far beyond what he expected. The ether he made contact with was so dense it almost felt like it held physical weight. He groaned at the sudden pain in his eyes and soul, but he refused to pull away. He kept his attention at a maximum, making sure he didn¡¯t miss even a single detail. Slowly, the shell started taking form in his soul. Its makeup was far more exquisite than any of his other abilities, barring perhaps Adaptive Water Body, but that was a unique exception. He could sense the intricacies of the ability prodding his comprehension. It was like a puzzle almost, and while he had the answer to most of the inquiries, some details eluded him. The parts he could comprehend flared and appeared accented on the shell¡¯s surface, almost like bold writing on a paper, while the ones he couldn¡¯t comprehend appeared dimmer and dormant. While it was a bit of a shame, it wasn¡¯t a permanent loss. The dormant runes would still work, just more subtly, and he could always awaken them when he reached the reforging threshold at stage 3¡ª50%. The whole process felt like it lasted mere minutes, but once he checked the time after finishing, he realized he had actually been sitting there for over thirteen hours. He gave the watch a lopsided grin as he slowly pulled himself up to his feet. ¡°Time to test it out, I guess.¡± He removed his clothing piece by piece until he was left in nothing but his underwear. His physique was no longer changing as quickly as it once had, but he could still see some minor changes every now and then. At this point, his muscles and veins were so well defined his body could be used to teach anatomy to medical students. After finally being done with admiring himself, he focused on the shell. It was a defensive spell that would forge his blood into scales all across his skin. It would also be quite expensive, but that was a fair trade for what he was getting. Without further ado, he tested the ability. Immediately, he could feel his essence being sucked out of him, at a base cost higher than most of his other abilities. It cost just under 24% essence to use. In a mere moment, he felt the blood seep into his skin and crystallize. He winced at the uncomfortable, itchy sensation of the scales connecting to his nerves. The process was quick, however, and before he could even blink, he was already covered in red scales, from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. He raised his arms to take a closer look at them and a small smile crept up on his face. He looked like a damn freak. The scales were packed quite tightly, but he could already feel that the small space between them would be something of a weakness. But even then, they were organized in a way that made it so that there were no long, straight seams anywhere. As he¡¯d already glimpsed from the rune composition, the scales were bigger where less mobility was needed and smaller in places like his fingers and joints. Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! As he got used to the sensation, he had to admit that it felt quite comfortable. He felt safe. Warm, somehow. He moved his fingers across the surface of his skin. He could hear the sound of metal scraping against metal, but it was soft and gentle. He could also feel everything without a problem, which he had to admit he had been a little worried about. Now, it was time to give them a little test. He formed his Knuckle Blade and stabbed into his right arm. To his surprise, he actually couldn¡¯t pierce through the scales with a casual swing. Of course, he expected the defense to be great, but his Knuckle Blade was specialized for stabbing, and he hadn¡¯t exactly been gentle. He was forced to swing at full power, and only then could he stab through the scale. This was where he finally felt a subsection of the ability unlock. Some abilities had several functions, depending on different requirements. This was one such ability. As he pulled out the Knuckle Blade, he used the ability again. Given that he was already mostly covered in scales, the ability now worked to repair the scales that were damaged. It only cost him a little bit of essence, and the scale he¡¯d pierced was reconstructed. The wound beneath the scale remained, but it was at least covered. While he could manually reuse the ability to repair lost scales, he also felt there was a ¡°regeneration mode¡± he could trigger that would make the scales recover automatically whenever damaged. He would keep that mode turned off. Probably always. While it was a powerful function, it would no doubt be a massive essence drain during a fight. If needed, he could always use the ability to recover the scales manually. The automatic recovery was a liability, at least at his current level. For him, taking extra damage was preferable to running out of essence. ¡°Oh, yeah,¡± he suddenly realized. ¡°What¡¯s this ability called?¡± The power tablet didn¡¯t have any name written on it, meaning he¡¯d have to come up with one himself. A cheeky, childish grin crept up his face as he immediately thought of a name. ¡°Nah¡­¡± he said. But he couldn¡¯t resist the urge. Crimson Dragon Scales. Naturally, putting ¡°dragon¡± in the name of an ability was¡­ a bit immature, admittedly. But in this case, he thought the ability deserved it. The name of an ability was mostly irrelevant before the fourth stage, anyway. But at that point, the name of the ability had to be accepted by the eidolon that was trapped within. It was common practice to stick to names that were justified by the function and power of an ability. There was a reason why Freddy didn¡¯t name his Flowing Strike the ¡°Water Dragon Punch¡± or some other shit like that. That being said, with the next upgrade, a rename would certainly be justified given the power of the ability. He shook those thoughts away as he left and went to bed for the night. He was exhausted from absorbing the ability. He ended up sleeping quite a bit that night. The power tablet had exhausted him more than he expected. It made sense, too. It was spiritual exhaustion, not physical. He had a particularly lazy morning as he finally took some time to properly rest from everything. His weekend rest was finally here. Well, he¡¯d hardly have the time to rest properly given the organ extraction. But still, he did put some time aside to take a break. He ended up taking a walk around Valhalla, greeting some people and trying to mingle a bit. To his surprise, the members didn¡¯t seem to be very¡­ warm to him. They kept him at a distance, with some even shooting him dirty looks. Granted, he did fuck up a bit during the last raid, but he didn¡¯t think it was justified to get this sort of treatment. He had still handled two three-stars by himself, and had single-handedly ensured that nobody from Valhalla was injured or killed. He was tempted to ask why people were treating him like this, but it was just a bit awkward coming up to someone to ask ¡°Hey, why do you seem repulsed by my presence?¡± Thus, he retreated to his room to read a bit, instead. Eventually, he finally felt it was time, so he went back to his other apartment and got started. This time, he got himself seven sets of organs. Just like that, he earned 350-million dollars. It was hard to even fathom just how much money that really was. It was a sobering sum. He finished his delivery before Sunday evening, and took the rest of the day to go shopping. He didn¡¯t buy many things, but he was slowly starting to track down all the items he¡¯d need if he wanted to enter the Century of Solitude dungeon. The most important thing he¡¯d need was remnants. Vestiges and remnants could be trapped and sold. Unfortunately, due to their ability to slip between reality and the Netherecho, spirits couldn¡¯t be contained the same way. But that was alright. Even with ¡°just¡± remnants, he¡¯d be able to bring up all of his abilities to the peak of stage 2. Well¡­ probably. He might come across a bottleneck for a few of them, especially those that were meant to be grown primarily through combat. That being said, some of the remnants he needed were¡­ rare, to say the least. For his Blood Javelin, for example, he wanted anti-gravity at stage 2. Absorb Blood would need ¡°efficiency,¡± which wasn¡¯t rare, but it was in high demand. And for many of the other abilities, he was still trying to decide. While he was in the process of collecting the resources he¡¯d need, he wasn¡¯t really¡­ Well, he wasn¡¯t exactly confident that he¡¯d actually go through with entering the dungeon. He was planning to. He would make sure he had the option if the need arose. But a hundred years entirely alone¡­ To put it nicely, it was bound to mess him up. Granted, with the help of his talent, he wouldn¡¯t go insane, but if his time with that therapist had taught him anything, it was that even healthy minds weren¡¯t perfect. People could even be ¡°crazy¡± in a sense without anything concrete being wrong with them. The human mind was inherently dangerous, even when, or maybe especially when it worked as intended. Hatred, anger, resentment, aggression. Violence. None of these were an exclusive product of illness. And that made him afraid. But that being said, he wasn¡¯t naive. The Northern Belt wasn¡¯t exactly the safest place in the world, even without four-stars. Whether he liked it or not, he might end up being forced into a corner. He wanted to at least have the option. While on his shopping trip, he also purchased a large sack of nutrient pills. They were pretty big beads, and they weren¡¯t exactly cheap. But with his current financial power, he could easily even the most expensive ones the store could offer without breaking a sweat. Well, that was a lie. Buying over a thousand nutrient pills that cost $10,000 a piece definitely made him break a sweat. But even that was just a tiny portion of his current net worth. That was horrifying to think about. The pills he bought were extremely dense. They contained pretty much every single basic nutrient a human needed to survive, as well as a good number of non-essential stuff that would give him a decent boost. The clerk recommended eating only one every three days. They were a bit rough on the digestive tract and meant to only be used before long expeditions where having to eat would be a liability. Naturally, he completely ignored the advice and swallowed five in one go. He genuinely thought his heart would explode. He also didn¡¯t expect them to cause him to hallucinate. But still, he pushed the urge to puke down and used Adaptive Water Body to help adjust to his new diet of five of these pills every day. The reason why he insisted on doing this was because of his organ harvesting operation. He could feel that it was taking a toll on his body that wasn¡¯t going away easily, even with his healing. It was most likely that he was inducing a severe lack of certain nutrients. This was bad. Not only would it mess with his body, it would also reduce the quality of the organs he grew. Thankfully, this was exactly the sort of stuff Adaptive Water Body excelled at. He could feel himself rapidly adjusting, even after just a single evening of work. Naturally, this sort of diet would also greatly enhance his physical endurance, allowing him to train even harder than he already was. Finally, Monday arrived, and he set off back to Valhalla. There, he met up with Thor. ¡°So¡­ you done with absorbing the ability?¡± ¡°Sure thing,¡± Freddy said as he handed the power tablet back to Thor. ¡°Thank you,¡± the man said with a chuckle as he stored the tablet away. ¡°Are you happy with it?¡± ¡°Yeah, I sure as hell am.¡± ¡°Good. You¡¯re gonna show it to me one of these days.¡± The man turned around. ¡°For now, I¡¯d like you to go and get started with the passage.¡± ¡°You need me to do anything specific, or¡­?¡± ¡°Yeah, actually. I¡¯d like you to explore the first five steps, and to completely clear the first three steps.¡± ¡°Uh¡­ Clear? What do you mean?¡± ¡°Just get rid of all the monsters,¡± Thor said, sitting into his office chair and leaning back. ¡°Unless you find something super valuable, like a dungeon, I¡¯d like you to clear it of monsters so we can slowly get started with using the local interspace.¡± Freddy hummed. ¡°Are you gonna tell the others about the passage?¡± ¡°No. I can¡¯t. Its existence will be kept as a total secret. I¡¯ll only allow a select few members to know about it at any moment.¡± The man grabbed a cup off the table and took a sip of coffee. ¡°It''s gonna be a rough road ahead. Ultimately, I¡¯d like to be in a position to publicly declare the existence of the passage while also retaining full rights to use it privately.¡± ¡°Do you have a plan for how to do that?¡± The man snickered. ¡°Absolutely not. Well not yet. But you never know.¡± Freddy snickered back. ¡°Well then. You¡¯ve given me a shit ton of work. First three steps¡ªhow many realms does that total? Did you even explore that much?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve found all the passages yet, but so far, I¡¯ve counted 17 realms you have to clear.¡± Freddy chuckled. ¡°Well shit. Better get started then. What about the monster bodies?¡± Thor shrugged. ¡°Do with them as you please. Maybe just put them on a pile somewhere so we can use the bones for something one day. Remember, the passage is a secret. People would ask questions if we suddenly started hauling monster corpses from the basement.¡± ¡°Oh, yeah, right. Makes sense.¡± ¡°Anyway, that¡¯s about it.¡± The man shrugged. ¡°You get started on that for now, and I¡¯ll see you around.¡± ¡°What about our training?¡± ¡°We¡¯ll suspend it for now. I have been slacking a bit too much. Besides, you¡¯ll get plenty of practice in the interspace. Just make sure you don¡¯t get yourself killed.¡± Freddy chuckled. ¡°Sure thing. I guess I¡¯ll get going then.¡± ¡°Go ahead. I¡¯ll see you later.¡± Freddy turned around and left the room, closing the doors behind him. As soon as he left, Thor¡¯s smile vanished. He slumped in his chair and put his palm on his forehead. ¡°What am I going to do about the others?¡± Surprise chapter drop! Soup soup soup This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. Chapter 147 - Pushing the Boundaries Freddy swung the door open, walked into Thor¡¯s office, and sat on the chair right in front of Big Man himself. ¡°Hey there, Fred,¡± Thor greeted him with a raised eyebrow. ¡°You need something?¡± ¡°I cleared them,¡± he said. ¡°You cleared what?¡± ¡°The realms you tasked me with clearing, of course.¡± Thor froze, staring at Freddy¡¯s face for a long moment. He then slowly, exaggeratedly turned his head to look at the calendar hanging on the wall. ¡°It¡¯s been four days.¡± ¡°Yup.¡± ¡°You cleared 17 realms in four days?¡± ¡°24, actually.¡± ¡°And how on New Earth did you do that?¡± ¡°I¡¯d love to tell you, but I won¡¯t tell you.¡± He grinned wryly. ¡°This is one of those secrets I¡¯d prefer telling no one.¡± He thought back to just a couple of days ago, to the moment it all started. It began once he learned that his newly acquired ability had something of a weakness. *** ¡°Motherfucker!¡± Freddy shouted as the giant fire bear blew Infernal Breath his way. He couldn¡¯t dodge. The flames licked across his scaly skin, scorching his defenses and frying the entire surface of his body, leaving him grimacing in agony and coughing out powder that had moments ago been his lungs. His massive sword cracked into bits, his Knuckle Blade on his right hand and the Gore Knuckles on his left hand both fell apart into powder, while his Crimson Wing Shields were barely holding together. He stood in the middle of a vast field, surrounded by dozens¡ªnearly a hundred¡ªfire bear corpses. The big mamma bear, a three-star monster with a mantle of flames and fur as red as a summer sunset, growled at him with fury in her eyes. He could tell by her body posture that she was convinced that the battle was over. Freddy stood there, dropping to one knee as flakes of burnt blood scales chipped off him, looking more like an overcooked meal than an actual threat. But while he might have looked cooked well past perfection, he was far from being out of the fight. With a roar, he jumped to his feet and conjured a javelin. The pendant hanging about his neck lit up with a golden light, and golden lines etched themselves along the surface of his spear. With a mad swing, he launched the weapon right at the bear¡¯s head. With its guard down, the fire bear didn¡¯t react in time, losing an eye for its error. While it reeled in pain, it lost the second eye, and a moment later, a third Blood Javelin pierced through its heart, leaving it shuddering on the ground as the last its flames extinguished and its life faded away. Freddy fell to his knees, coughing out even more ash and blood as he looked down at his hands, observing the chipping, cracked scales. ¡°I can¡¯t believe I forgot about this.¡± Suppression of rank. It was a force that made abilities cast by those with more stars directly overpower abilities cast by those of fewer stars. To be more exact, suppression halved the power of the lower-ranking fighter¡¯s abilities. It didn¡¯t apply to talents, spirit abilities, or raw physical power, but it did apply to regular abilities. All of Freddy¡¯s blood equipment, as well as his Crimson Dragon Scales, were a product of his abilities. This meant that against enemies with more stars than him, they¡¯d be significantly suppressed, as evidenced by the fact that a single Infernal Breath had completely devastated all of his equipment. Thankfully, the effect wasn¡¯t as bad as it could be. The durability of his hardened blood wasn¡¯t affected by suppression. But his abilities played a major role in reinforcing the durability of his blood constructs, and that was targeted by suppression. His Blood Ring would help mitigate this, and, at least with his weapons, his Warrior King¡¯s Pendant would have a huge impact once he grew its power a bit. But the main, and the most convenient fix he had available was to simply conjure his equipment with double-star activation. The thing with multiplying ability power was that every ability had a different interpretation of what that meant, and this interpretation was determined during the creation of the ability. For example, Freddy¡¯s Blood Javelin conjured two javelins instead of one rather than making a single javelin sturdier. But his other blood constructs would, indeed, be conjured with more durability if he double-starred them. The main problem was that this was a bit wasteful, at least for the time being. Multiplication affected the major concepts of an ability. The problem here was that most of the abilities for creating his weapons didn¡¯t really add all that much. They simply hardened the blood in a specific shape, with the stage of his Crimson Mercury doing most of the heavy lifting. This would change later on, but for the time being, the additional durability wasn¡¯t exactly worth its price in essence. Crimson Dragon Scales was the only exception to this. An expensive one. Double-starring it would gobble up 50% of his essence in a single go. A quarter of his total reserves. The mere thought of that made him wince. But as he gave his chipping, fried scales a second look, he had to acknowledge that he possibly didn¡¯t have a choice. Sighing, he pushed himself back to his feet. The ability still wasn¡¯t developed. He¡¯d have to see what it could do with an upgrade or two, first. Now wasn¡¯t the time for that. His last opponent was dead. He was on the brink of disengaging from the fight. And just as he had the thought, he felt a certain shell in his soul click as it unlocked. ¡°Blood Sacrifice,¡± he chanted. He could instantly tell that something was different. The tar-like blood of the fire bears gathered at an incredible speed, far faster than any of his previous summons. In a matter of seconds, he had a large pool of pitch-black blood standing above him. What surprised him the most was that he no longer felt like he was actively channeling the ability. Usually, he¡¯d have to focus on keeping the process stable, but now, it was as if the blood had a mind of its own. Slowly, it converted into bloody mist and began to gather. He had collected quite a bit of blood. Not just from the fire bears, but from basically all the monsters in the small B-class realm he was currently in. Thus, he had expected the result to be as it usually was. But he could immediately tell that his expectations were about to be subverted. The blood essence the ability created was usually wild, unstable. It would rampage almost like it refused to be subject to his power. This made sense. The blood essence wasn¡¯t his own, so it was hardly a surprise that it wouldn¡¯t listen to him. This was the main reason why Bloodshed¡¯s form usually tended to be¡­ unstable, to say the least. But this time, that clearly wasn¡¯t the case. The blood essence still tried to resist, but it was overwhelmed by a superior power. And it slowly started to compress. The bloody mist gathered into a shape barely taller than Freddy himself as it finally crystallized, allowing Bloodshed to take form. Freddy gaped in shock. Wearing its new shawl, its eyes glowing beneath the hood, was Bloodshed, just a bit over two metres tall. There were no extra limbs or crazy shapes. It looked exactly as it did when released, just¡­ taller. Freddy gulped as he felt the power of his summon. It was compressed and dormant, like a pool of wrath. ¡°Lookin¡¯ good there, pal,¡± Freddy complimented with a slightly nervous grin. Bloodshed looked at its arms as it tested its mobility. ¡°I have more control over my form than expected.¡± ¡°Ha! No shit! This is amazing!¡± Freddy grinned. ¡°Now let¡¯s go see what you can do.¡± Two days was really all it took to clear the aforementioned 24 realms. In this new form, Bloodshed was truly amazing. It was capable of so many new things. The most surprising new power it could display was actually something he should have seen coming. It was capable of dissipating an ¡°aromatic¡± bloody mist, one that made every predator in a certain radius go wild with desire and rush straight toward them. It was the main reason why clearing the realms went so quickly, even if it did nearly get Freddy killed a few times. That being said, even when surrounded on all sides, Bloodshed was hardly ever under pressure in these fights. As it got more experience using its fresh set of powers, it also got more efficient at using them. At first, it seemed like its new powers would come with a major downside¡ªit exhausted its energy a lot quicker. But it didn¡¯t take long for them to find a solution to this problem. This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Bloodshed could now simply absorb more blood to replenish its reserves. It couldn¡¯t go above its initial power as determined by the summoning but could easily keep itself topped up if there were enough enemies. For a long moment, Freddy was excited at the prospect of keeping Bloodshed summoned for hours, or even days at a time, or hell, even indefinitely! But, unfortunately, this wasn¡¯t bound to happen. As a concept, ¡°bloodshed¡± was an extension of ¡°slaughter.¡± Kill things and spill blood, and once the dust settled, ta-dah! Bloodshed had been created! A site of bloodshed, to be exact. It was a concept that was inherently tied to a location of where the bloodshed happened. As a consequence, Bloodshed couldn¡¯t move all that far from where it was summoned. The range was generous, yes, but ultimately finite. The further away it went, the weaker it became, until it completely unraveled and vanished. Of course, nothing stopped Freddy from simply using Blood Sacrifice again. And he did exactly that. Many times. And given what they knew now, he and his little buddy experimented quite a bit. Bloodshed could still choose to spawn as a giant monstrosity, but now, it had a bit more power over the details. It was still a bit unstable, though. Extra heads and limbs were almost always added past a certain height, and even when they weren¡¯t, the proportions of limbs were off. In order to spawn as a giant, it sadly had to sacrifice some of the energy it would otherwise be able to use for its blood powers, but the inverse was also true, although it couldn¡¯t spawn any smaller than two metres in height. After only two days, he was practically done with his work, other than making sure that there weren¡¯t any dangerous non-predators sticking around in the realms. That was what he spent the other two days doing. Finally, he made his way to Thor¡¯s office, where he sat and smirked at Thor¡¯s bewilderment. The man, for his part, managed to remain calm. He squinted his eyes at Freddy as his lips parted to reveal a knowing smile. ¡°It¡¯s a spirit ability, isn¡¯t it?¡± ¡°What is?¡± ¡°The method you use to kill things so quickly.¡± ¡°I would deny it, but that would be an insult to your intelligence.¡± Freddy shrugged. ¡°There aren¡¯t many other things it could be.¡± ¡°I knew it!¡± Thor snapped his fingers then squinted harder. ¡°Let me guess, you¡¯ll keep the details a secret?¡± ¡°Yup.¡± ¡°What if¡­ What if I manage to guess exactly what it is? Would you tell me if my guess is correct?¡± Freddy chuckled. ¡°Knock yourself out.¡± Thor hummed as he tapped his chin. ¡°It has to be something that comes without permanent consequences as a cost, otherwise you wouldn¡¯t be using it willy-nilly.¡± ¡°That much should be obvious,¡± Freddy teased with a grin. Thor snapped his fingers and pursed his lips as he pondered. ¡°I am guessing it¡¯s something like a toxin¡ªno! A disease¡­¡± he said with raised eyebrows, probing Freddy for signs of confirmation. ¡°A disease that spreads from target to target.¡± He settled into his chair. ¡°But!¡±¡ªhe raised a finger¡ª¡±it comes at the price of infecting you first, which is perfect because of your talent. Boom! How¡¯s that?¡± ¡°Not even close.¡± ¡°Damn it!¡± Freddy laughed. ¡°But, points for creativity, I guess.¡± ¡°Yeah, yeah¡­ Anyway, I guess you can proceed with exploring the first five steps next, Mr. Speed.¡± ¡°Yeah, about that,¡± Freddy scratched the back of his head. Thor slumped. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re already done!?¡± ¡°No, hahaha. No. Rather, uh¡­ I was going to ask you something. So uh¡­ what exactly do you mean by explore? I¡¯m guessing I¡¯m supposed to be a bit more uh¡­ a bit more delicate?¡± Thor shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s not high etherology, dude, just see what you find and report it to me. Mark any particularly dangerous passages and note valuable areas. Feel free to kill whatever you want as long as you don¡¯t turn worthwhile realms into wastelands.¡± ¡°Got it.¡± He got off the chair. ¡°Well¡­ Guess I¡¯ll continue my work.¡± And so he did. Soon enough, he got into a rhythm, and the days turned into weeks. He spent most of his time scouring the interspace, looking for valuable areas and noting important details. The expedition doubled as training, and he finally got the opportunity to grow some of his weaker abilities. His new weapons were getting a great workout, and before long, they began reaching new stages. And given that he was in the interspace, he had all the sentient ether constructs he needed to upgrade them. For five days a week, he would delve and explore, and for the weekends, he would work on extracting his organs. During the little free time he had, he searched for necessary resources. After two weeks, Thor finally called him over to hand him the cursed item produced from his clothing. It was a thick rope necklace, with the metal pieces of clothing being turned into a small circular medallion. It was unassuming and simple. As was already obvious ahead of time, it was an ordinary cursed item. But that by no means meant it was useless. It provided him with a 13% discount on his water abilities. That was huge for tempering. Even though he wouldn¡¯t use it in combat, it was still useful enough that he decided to keep it for himself. For a whole month, he stuck to this regime, and his work was rapidly paying off. GATHERING: Second star¡ª199% essence capacity 2-star satellite TALENT: 1% Lifesteal: Dynamic-quality healing SOUL CONSTRUCT: Scythe: Essence Extraction TEMPERING TECHNIQUES: Blood affinity: Lake of Blood: Stage 2¡ª89% Progress Crimson Mercury: Stage 2¡ª46% Progress Purifying Crimson Spring: Stage 1¡ª83% Progress Water affinity: Adaptive Water Body: Stage 1¡ªComplete Thousand Wet Hells: Stage 1¡ª98% Progress Abyssal Depths: Stage 1¡ª99% Progress (Ready to Upgrade) Water Body: Stage 1¡ª61% Progress ACTIVE ABILITIES: Blood affinity: Gore Knuckles: Stage 2¡ª34% Progress Blood Javelin: Stage 1¡ª95% Progress Absorb Blood: Stage 2¡ª3% Progress Accelerate Blood Projectile: Stage 1¡ª98% Progress Sanguine Beheader: Stage 2¡ª2% Progress Knuckle Blade: Stage 1¡ª67% Progress Crimson Wing Shield: Stage 1¡ª89% Progress Dissipate Wave: Stage 0¡ª80% Progress Crimson Dragon Scales: Stage 1¡ª10% Progress Water affinity: Flowing Strike: Stage 1¡ª99% Progress (Ready to Upgrade) Hydraulic Flex: Stage 2¡ª37% Progress Create Water: Stage 1¡ª53% Progress Hydraulic Throw: Stage 1¡ª32% Progress Perished water affinity: Perished Water: Stage 0¡ª9% Progress Ghosts of the Drowned: Stage 0¡ª9% Progress SPIRIT ABILITIES: Blood Sacrifice Leviathan¡¯s Fury UNIQUE CURSED ITEMS: Warrior King¡¯s Pendant: Adds 8% damage and 8% durability to equipped weapons. Blood Ring: -9% essence cost, +8% power for blood-affinity abilities. Can be used to release Bloodshed. Attacks inflict moderate bleeding. Ocean Medallion: -13% essence cost for water-affinity abilities. He had seen massive growth across the board, with his weapons seeing the most notable improvement. His Absorb Blood went up a stage, and he upgraded it with the concept of ¡°efficiency,¡± further dropping the base cost to 3% essence per litre of blood absorbed. Sanguine Beheader, his glorious executioner''s sword, witnessed not one, but two different upgrades. It got by far the most use out of all his new abilities, and with every upgrade, he liked it more and more. After upgrading it with ¡°moisture¡± and ¡°mass,¡± he finally felt like the weapon had reached a satisfying baseline of power. After the two upgrades, the once lightweight sword weighed around 40 kilograms. If double-starred, that went up to 75. It wasn¡¯t 80 because only 35 of those kilograms came from the concepts tied to the weapon, while the rest came from the weight of the actual material. Although he felt that the baseline weight was quite comfortable, even his stubborn ass could admit that it was way too heavy when double-starred. He could still wield it, but the inertia hauled him around too much. To use it comfortably, he¡¯d have to commit an upgrade to Abyssal Depths. That would make him heavy enough to provide some additional counterweight. Knuckle Blade received a simple ¡°piercing¡± upgrade. And while it miffed him a bit, he had to admit, he got far more use out of the Knuckle Blade than his Gore Knuckles. Gore Knuckles was still great against exposed flesh, but it was as Thor had said¡ªmore often than not, he had to go through a layer of defense. For that purpose, Knuckle Blade was far more useful. For the Crimson Wing Shield, he went with ¡°blocking.¡± It had an interesting effect, one that surprised him a bit. It made the shields block one attack very effectively¡ªtwo if double-starred. The power of this block was quite incredible, but it came with a significant downside¡ªhe couldn¡¯t choose which attack to block. They would block the first attack he received, even if it wasn¡¯t particularly threatening. This practically forced him to only use the ability once he was in the middle of blocking a potent attack. It wasn¡¯t a big deal, but it was certainly an unwelcome inconvenience. Next up was Hydraulic Throw. It received a simple ¡°speed¡± upgrade, allowing him to swing faster and throw the weapon with greater power. And finally, his Crimson Dragon Scales had reached stage 1. Freddy''s choice for the upgrade was easy¡ªhe went with the generic concept of ¡°blood.¡± The ability was already quite deep and complex, so a minor upgrade across the board was an obvious choice. But out of all his upgrades, the ones he considered the most valuable were the ones to his unique cursed items. Given the number of three-star monsters he culled, Warrior King¡¯s Pendant grew by leaps and bounds. Not only did it substantially alleviate the issues caused by suppression, the damage amplification was very noticeable. Its growth slowed down quite quickly, however. It was likely that he¡¯d have to fight even more powerful opponents to push it further. Well, it was already a massive gamechanger, so it wasn¡¯t like he was disappointed. His Blood Ring had similarly seen further growth, most notably to the bleeding effect. It still wasn¡¯t up to par with what the dagger could do on its own, but it was getting there. Despite the growth he¡¯d achieved, there was something that was starting to trouble him¡ªhis growth was stalling. Not just of his most advanced abilities, but of every ability he had. He couldn¡¯t help but sigh at this. The primary reason why was because of his spirit abilities. They slowed down his growth quite noticeably, and even if they had a lesser effect on abilities than his star, it was still there. And the second reason was that he simply had too many of them. Yet, despite this, he still had one more ability he wanted to form. During his time in the interspace, he¡¯d seen numerous deviants and unique monsters. One of these was a sort of iron hedgehog that could curl up and launch a bunch of needles in every direction. This whole time, Freddy had been thinking of which small throwing weapon he could use. But he had to be honest with himself¡ªhe wasn¡¯t a small weapon kind of guy. And because small weapons were so light by default, he always felt like they didn¡¯t allow him to get the most use of his strength. But once he got a face-full of iron needles, he was reminded of something. All the way back when he first arrived in this city, he had done something similar to someone. When he fought Jason Gem, he had conjured a small mass of fragile blood and used Flowing Strike on it, causing it to shatter and send a bunch of shrapnel in the man¡¯s direction. He hadn¡¯t thought much about that after he did it. It was a makeshift move he hadn¡¯t had much faith in. But now, he was starting to realize that there might be something to it. In one of the C-rank realms he had already fully cleared, he sat on the ground, focusing on a small, football-sized chunk of blood metal. It had a number of seams running through it. While it looked like a solid ball, it was more of a bundle of chunks of blood, designed to fall apart into a burst of shrapnel when hit by a Flowing Strike. Some of the insights he got while meditating on the tablets came in quite handy. When he first got the idea, he was humoring it more out of boredom. A cute little experiment, one might say. He had no clue just how devastating of a weapon he was about to create. Chapter 148 - Haunted Freddy woke up. There was no alarm shackled around his head. Yet, a single look at the clock confirmed he had woken up on time. Whether it was just conditioning, or his body had finally settled on the exact amount of sleep it needed, every single day, he would wake up after roughly four and a half hours of rest, with a five-minute margin of error. The sheets on his body felt coarse against his bare skin. He slowly pulled them off. His living space at Valhalla headquarters wasn¡¯t nearly as fancy as his apartment. But that was all right. He just needed a place to sleep through the night. But sometimes, he had to admit. It felt a bit small. But that was probably not due to the room itself. His muscular frame could barely fit through the narrow bathroom doors, forcing him to twist his torso to walk through. As he stepped before the mirror, he looked over his nude body. His body had almost entirely stopped changing with training. Every single inch of his surface was chiseled to perfection, with skin so pure and flawless it almost seemed like he spent half his day performing beauty routines. He looked up to his bearded face. He bent forward, leaning against the sink as he stared at his own eyes. His hair fell wildly to his sides, and his beard looked fuzzy and messy. His eyes shimmered with a hard light. Ever since he¡¯d changed this appearance, he felt queasy looking at his face. He was tired of it. So he created a habit of staring himself in the eyes until he fully fused the image of himself with the image of¡­ this man. It was during these morning sessions that he felt like he truly was trapped in a stranger¡¯s body. And it wasn¡¯t just a matter of looks, either. In his behavior, in his desires, in his dreams, and everywhere around him, he saw not Freddy Stern, but Freddy Cliff. Who was Freddy Cliff? What was Freddy Cliff? Ever since he¡¯d stepped foot on the path to power, Freddy Stern had had but once simple motive. He wanted to have a good life. His idea of a good life was travelling to beautiful places, sleeping with beautiful women, socializing and partying with like-minded people, and just simply having fun. But when he observed his behavior, when he took a close look at what he was in his thoughts and actions, he saw almost no traces of this shallow desire. He was constantly working towards something. He was constantly tormenting himself. He was constantly growing and changing like some sort of cancerous growth that couldn¡¯t be contained or exterminated. In these moments before dawn, where the world slept and the monsters screamed in the night, he got the closest to realizing something, grasping a truth that eluded him while he occupied himself with nonsense. The beating behind his eyes. The twitching of his fingers. The trepidation in his chest. Something lay there. Something deeper. Something ambitious. He chuckled. ¡°Man I really am losing my fucking mind.¡± ¡°Master, I have returned,¡± Bloodshed said as it appeared behind his back. ¡°Welcome back,¡± he said as he turned around, blinking away the image of himself that had burnt into his retinas. ¡°How many?¡± He spotted a sinister glint in the skeleton¡¯s eye. ¡°Two.¡± He smirked. ¡°Good job, Bloodshed.¡± During the past two weeks, he had been sending Bloodshed out on missions while he slept. It had two jobs¡ªspying on those who machinated in the darkness. And killing those he judged to have crossed the line. To date, Bloodshed had assassinated 12 key figures who were driving criminal operations in Repentawa. And this wasn¡¯t like his hit on Shawn Gem. His conscience was as clear as his shimmering skin. These people were truly beyond redemption. Just as those who Valhalla caught in the act, they were quite literally standing between innocent men and women and a life free of torment. He was already aware¡ªmost of the members of Valhalla weren¡¯t very fond of him. He was mostly a stranger to them, one who wasn¡¯t doing much from what they knew. Thor couldn¡¯t tell them what Freddy was doing. And yet, keeping them out of the loop bred displeasure. Nobody wanted to live a life of risking their own neck just so their boss could throw his full support behind a total stranger. If this continued, it wouldn¡¯t be long until he was forced to return to raiding every now and then, if anything, just to show that he was a worthwhile investment. But Thor was too stubborn. ¡°Whatever. He¡¯ll be forced to act soon.¡± Freddy walked out of the bathroom and sat down on the living room couch. He focused, conjuring a ball of blood in his hands. He was making great progress with his new weapon but wasn¡¯t quite yet ready to crystallize it. He was already well past a reasonable number of abilities. There was barely space to add just one more. And even that was a burden that needed to be justified. Besides, it wasn¡¯t like he couldn¡¯t use this method even without turning it into a proper ability. Putting it aside, he left his apartment, went to the gathering chamber, and pulled out several water-affinity elixirs. He was very close to finishing Thousand Wet Hells. Today, he would push himself until he finally reached stage 2. With his new pendant about his neck and an elixir down his throat, he got started on meditation. Despite his ever-growing toughness, he was barely able to keep up with this ability. To be honest, he feared the results of the next upgrade. But he gritted his teeth and kept going. For the whole day, he simply tempered and meditated, pushing himself forward and taking his time to clear the reflux essence out of his body. It was a taxing process, one that required a lot of healing and patience. Even he didn¡¯t have infinite pain tolerance. There was only so much he could torture himself before he reached his wit¡¯s end. But he didn¡¯t get to where he was by giving up easily. After a whole day of just working on Thousand Wet Hells, he finally felt the blessed relief of seeing the shell in his soul¡ªfinished and waiting for an upgrade. To find a suitable remnant, he and his buddy Bloodshed went on a hunt into the interspace Netherecho. The place was as dangerous as it had always been, but with Bloodshed¡¯s help, tracking and subduing remnants was a trivial ordeal. After a few hours of searching, he stumbled upon a few interesting candidates. But the one he ultimately settled for was destruction. It was a harsh concept to put into an already dangerous ability. But he had already made his decision. If he wanted to continue with what he was doing with Flowing Strike, he would need to be as tough as humanly possible. He subdued the vestige and took it into his soul, finally reaching stage 2. He got into a seated position and took a deep breath. Then, he activated the ability. Instantly, all across the surface of his body, his skin started inflating, creating a spotted spectacle of exploding bubbles, and an instant later, half his face was blown off. Before he could even comprehend what was happening, he felt his right arm explode, his flesh flying in every direction as little more than sagging skin and loose meat hung about his bare bone. ¡°Son of a¡ª¡± It took him a while to recover from that damage. He had to go into a realm and kill monsters for a few hours to finally feel all the effects of what he¡¯d done to himself go away. That had only been a single second of usage. He showed a lopsided grin and felt his eye twitch as he was forced to admit it. ¡°I fucked up with this one.¡± He pulled out his notebook and wrote down an update. Ten Thousand Wet Hells: Stage 2¡ª0% Progress. However, he wasn¡¯t done with his upgrades. He found another suitable concept and upgraded Abyssal Depths. Even just a bit of use made his body mass go up quite drastically. And then, he found the perfect remnant for his Flowing Strike¡ªthe concept of force amplification. Without further ado, he approached a tree. For a brief moment, the image of the tree he first started training on flashed before his eyes. Let¡¯s see how far I made it since then. He pulled his fist back and used the ability with both stars. Instantly, he felt one hell of a fucking difference in force and couldn¡¯t hold back an insane grin. His fist reached the surface of the tree. That was the second time he blew his arm up in one day. But as he saw the shockwave and wooden splinters spread into the woods behind the tree¡­ he knew he had no regrets. Abyssal Depths: Stage 2¡ª0% Progress. And then, the second ability worthy of a new name. Tsunami Strike: Stage 2¡ª0% Progress. *** Travis wrapped up his training with Thor, stepping outside and wiping his wet forehead with a towel. ¡°Same time next day?¡± Thor asked. ¡°Yeah, sure¡­ It¡¯s gonna be free, right?¡± ¡°Yeah, yeah, Freddy is busy with the task I gave him.¡± ¡°Oh. Good. I¡¯ll see you tomorrow then.¡± This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. ¡°Nice,¡± Thor smiled as he offered him a fistbump. ¡°See you tomorrow, man.¡± Travis hesitated for a moment before reciprocating. ¡°You okay, dude?¡± Thor asked. ¡°Yeah, yeah¡­ Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯m just a bit tired from the training.¡± ¡°You sure? You¡¯ve been acting a bit weird recently¡­¡± ¡°Nah, it¡¯s all good. Take care of yourself before you worry about me, man; you look overworked as hell!¡± Thor chuckled. ¡°Take care man. See you later.¡± ¡°Aight,¡± he said as he turned and walked away. A shadow fell over his face. Recently, he¡¯d developed something of a habit of going out to drink alone. If there were any two things Valhalla wasn¡¯t lacking, it was alcoholics and places to drink alcohol. He preferred one of the lonelier bars, tucked behind a corner in the residential area. It was a small, frugal place. He and Thor used to come there all the time. He took a seat at the bar and immediately ordered a beer. It was bitter. He couldn¡¯t help but sigh after every gulp. ¡°Look who it is!¡± an annoying, arrogant voice sounded from behind him. ¡°If it isn¡¯t the fucking mad dog himself!¡± ¡°Ugh¡­¡± he groaned quietly, trying to look unbothered. ¡°Hey there, Charlie!¡± he said as he turned around with a beaming expression. ¡°What brings you around these parts?¡± Followed by his two pushovers was Charlie King, one of the more prominent Valhalla fighters. The man was a scout and a ranged attacker. A competent one at that. ¡°Nothing much,¡± the man said, smirking as he took a seat right beside him. ¡°Say¡­ I heard you got your privileges back. Did that¡­ Slave guy finally get kicked out or something?¡± ¡°No. Freddy is on an important mission.¡± ¡°Important mission, huh¡­ Hehehe¡­ Is that what Thor calls it? Man, we¡¯ve always known Thor was a little zesty, but I didn¡¯t realize he was into buff men.¡± Travis¡¯s hand twitched, causing him to spill a drop of beer. ¡°That¡¯s a very immature joke, Charlie.¡± The man laughed anyway, as if he¡¯d cracked the funniest zinger known to man. ¡°Nah, man, you have to admit, there¡¯s something funny going on there.¡± The man swung an arm around Travis¡¯s neck. ¡°It¡¯s gotta sting, no? Playing second fiddle to some newbie psychopath.¡± Travis took a sip of his drink. ¡°Freddy has earned his place. Besides, who Thor decides to back is none of my concern.¡± ¡°Is it not, now? Wasn¡¯t it you who he¡¯d been hawking as the next coming of himself for years already? Sheesh, I would be a little angry if I was pushed aside after all that glazing. Is it because you can¡¯t seem to reach the third star? Or is it because you¡¯re just¡­ less attractive than your competition?¡± ¡°Man, take no offense,¡± Travis said non-chalantly as he put down the beer mug just a little too hard, ¡°but what the fuck do you want?¡± The man pulled his arm back and raised both hands defensively. ¡°I don¡¯t want nothing. I¡¯m just looking out for a friend, that¡¯s all.¡± ¡°Hah, give me a break.. Go bother someone else.¡± ¡°The others are angry, you know,¡± the man continued. ¡°That guy¡¯s trouble. He might be strong, but we don¡¯t know him at all. Some are even saying that¡­ Thor might be a bit compromised.¡± Travis was about to take another sip, but he calmly put his beer down, and with a swift lunge, grabbed Charlie¡¯s neck. He didn¡¯t even turn to face him. ¡°What are you¡ª¡± ¡°If you ever try to insinuate that Thor is working against our interests again¡­ I¡¯m personally gonna make sure you get lost on your next trip to the interspace.¡± ¡°You¡¯re threatening my life?¡± the man eked out, wincing as Travis tightened his grip. ¡°Yes. Yes, I am. We already have enough shit going on without our own people trying to stir more of it. And if I were you, I¡¯d make dead sure Thor didn¡¯t hear me talking like that.¡± He turned and leaned in. ¡°The man isn¡¯t known for tolerating treason. If you don¡¯t like how things work here, pick your shit up and leave. We don¡¯t stop anyone from going their own way.¡± He released his grip and Charlie gulped for breath with an aggrieved expression. The man corrected his collar and got up. ¡°Have fun drinking by yourself, dipshit.¡± Then he left, taking his side pieces along. Travis looked over at the bartender who had been staring at him. The man looked away. *** Lucas sat on the bench, staring at the ground with a lost expression. His hand subconsciously reached for the scar on his neck. It was itchy again. ¡°Lucas Black! Trevor Smith! Step up!¡± a trainer yelled. Lucas and his opponent both got up and entered the ring. Valhalla¡¯s trainees were taught during regular daily drills. Most of their work was drills and physical exercise, at least for the complete beginners, but as of recently, Lucas had finally joined the more advanced crew and started dueling. He grabbed his wooden spear tightly as he stared down his opponent. It was a bulky man about a head taller than himself. The matchup was completely unfair. The man known as Trevor Smith didn¡¯t even last three strikes against Lucas before finding himself laying on his ass and staring down the tip of Lucas¡¯s spear. ¡°Lucas Black wins!¡± the trainer announced, and some of them stepped away after paying respects to each other. It didn¡¯t take long for it to become incredibly obvious¡ªLucas was gifted. Fighting came naturally to him, and he easily picked up on new things. He never repeated his mistakes. He never forgot his lessons. And he never gave up. He dropped into the bench, feeling profoundly exhausted. The training had been long that day. Long and tiring. He sighed. ¡°I want to see Janice so bad.¡± He finally managed to move her to Valhalla, and now, they were living together. ¡°I wonder how mum is doing.¡± *** Hellen was in her apartment, washing the dishes. She scrubbed and scrubbed, but the filth just didn¡¯t want to come off. Her lights were off, with only a thin ray of sunshine peering through the curtains. The place she was living in was certainly nicer than any other she¡¯d lived in. She kept scrubbing. Over and over. She had left her stew on the stove for a bit too long, and now, a burnt layer of char was stuck to the bottom. And it wouldn¡¯t come off. She worked hard to polish it, but to no avail. So she gave up. She poured it full of hot water and put it aside to let it soften. This was the third time she had done so. Suddenly, the door to her apartment cracked open, and her son walked in. ¡°Hey mom! I haven¡¯t seen you in a bit so I thought I¡¯d drop by!¡± ¡°That so?¡± she asked as she grabbed a dirty glass to wash it. She still hadn¡¯t turned around to face him. Lucas carefully stepped forward. ¡°You good? Need help?¡± ¡°No¡­ I¡¯m fine,¡± she said flatly as he put the clean glass to dry and grabbed another. ¡°Mm. Okay.¡± He raised his hand and a grocery bag rustled. ¡°Brought you some food.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve already been shopping.¡± ¡°i brought sweets. Your favorites.¡± ¡°I¡¯m on a diet. I haven¡¯t been moving as much, so I¡¯ve started gaining some weight.¡± ¡°Ah, I see. Hahaha¡­ Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll get you a prime one of these days. It does wonders for keeping the fat off.¡± She dropped the glass she¡¯d been washing. It clanked into the sink, but it didn¡¯t break. ¡°Oh, sorry¡­ I¡¯m distracting you,¡± Lucas said with a chuckle as he moved to sit on the couch. ¡°Hey,¡± she called. ¡°Hmm? What is it?¡± She paused, looking down at the glass waiting for her to continue scrubbing. ¡°How about we move out of here?¡± Lucas froze. ¡°Uh¡­ No? Haha¡­ Is this a joke?¡± She didn¡¯t answer. He leaned forward. ¡°Where is this coming from?¡± ¡°Where is this coming from, he says,¡± she repeated sarcastically and chuckled darkly, picking the glass back up to continue cleaning it. She put the sponge to it and scrubbed hard. ¡°Maybe it¡¯s because I don¡¯t have any friends here? Maybe it¡¯s because I¡¯ve been pulled away from my life to live with a bunch of terrorists? Maybe it¡¯s because my own son,¡± she shouted the last part scrubbing the glass even harder, ¡°locked me up in this place since he thinks of me like I¡¯m some sort of animal!¡± The glass broke in her hands. A sharp edge cut her palm. She whimpered. ¡°Mom¡­?¡± He got up to his feet and walked forward. ¡°Shit! You cut yourself! Give me your hand.¡± ¡°No,¡± she pulled her hand away. ¡°What? Just give me your damn hand!¡± ¡°I¡¯m gonna take care of it myself.¡± ¡°Just stop being stubborn and give me your¡ª¡± ¡°I said I¡¯m gonna do it myself!¡± she screamed. ¡°Why are you so pushy these days!?¡± Lucas froze, staring at her with that same expression, the one they all gave her. He looked at her like she was crazy. ¡°Just calm down.¡± She grunted and walked over to a cabinet, opening a drawer and pulling out rags and a bottle of disinfectant. She started tying her wound up. Lucas looked torn for a moment, but then he visibly gave up and sighed in exasperation. ¡°I don¡¯t know what happened but I think I¡¯m gonna give you some space.¡± He turned for the exit. ¡°You¡¯re gonna leave me. Alone. Again.¡± He sighed and pivoted. ¡°Well what do you want?¡± ¡°I told you. I want us to move.¡± ¡°We can¡¯t do that.¡± ¡°Why not?¡± She whirled. ¡°Why can¡¯t we just go back to living the way we used to? What¡¯s the problem? You¡¯re an archhuman now, aren¡¯t you? Why do we have to stay here?¡± ¡°Oh I know what this is about,¡± he said as he grinned darkly and scoffed. It felt like he¡¯d stabbed her in the stomach and twisted the knife. ¡°Get out,¡± she said. ¡°Fine.¡± He raised his hands. ¡°I¡¯m leaving.¡± ¡°You think I¡¯m insane.¡± ¡°I¡¯m already leaving, Mom, no need to keep chasing me.¡± ¡°You treat me like an animal.¡± He stopped. He turned around with a raised finger, looking like he was about to say something. Then, for a brief moment, he pulled his finger back, cupping his chin as he pondered whether he should. But he clearly gave up on holding his tongue. ¡°You know what, Mom? Maybe if you stopped acting like a fucking animal, I wouldn¡¯t think to treat you like one.¡± She was stunned. ¡°You did not just say that to your mother.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t say that to my mother,¡± he said, raising his hands defensively, then broadly gestured in her direction. ¡°I said that to whoever this is. Because you¡¯re not acting like my mother¡­ Hellen! Now I¡¯m going to leave. Because if I stay, I feel I¡¯ll say some things I¡¯d rather keep to myself.¡± He turned around again. ¡°It¡¯s like you forgot everything we went though.¡± Lucas froze. He stood there in silence for a long moment, breathing heavily. ¡°Like I forgot everything?¡± He slowly turned around. ¡°Life is nicer here. You¡¯ll get your damn prime and we¡¯ll live a proper life. Just tell me who your friends are or whatever and I¡¯ll leave and drag them here¡ªbut I¡¯m not letting you out.¡± ¡°Would it kill you to trust me a little bit?¡± ¡°Uhm¡­ Funny story! It just might! I think it nearly did a couple times already!¡± ¡°Why do you blame everything on me!?¡± she shouted. ¡°You and that damn quack of a therapist! Did it ever cross your mind that I was forced to do whatever it took to save us from ending up on the street!?¡± Lucas reflexively laughed, his eyes wide open in disbelief. ¡°Is that what you remember happening!? You did everything it took¡±¡ªhe cupped his mouth and blew into his open palms¡ª¡±Mom, please don¡¯t take this the wrong way, but no the hell you didn¡¯t!¡± He stammered for a few moments, looking too shocked to form a proper sentence. ¡°I don¡¯t know what kind of fantasy land you come from, but the world I lived in was very, very different. ¡°The world I remember is one where I¡¯d come back from shitty part-time work where I killed myself for twenty bucks, only to find out that you gambled away the next three months¡¯ rent! The world I remember is one where I lived in fear every fucking day that any moment, we¡¯d have loan sharks break our doors down and drag us out. Do you have any idea just how I felt during this time!? ¡°Every single time you set us back, I¡¯d feel this horrible, twisting pain in my stomach! It was like my guts were curling in on themselves¡­ It was a good day when I didn¡¯t fantasize about jumping out the window. And the only reason I never did is because I didn¡¯t want to hurt you like that! But you! You did everything in your power to ruin my fucking life! ¡°If it weren¡¯t for the mercy of a complete stranger, you know where we¡¯d be, Mom? We¡¯d be tied up in some wet basement, waiting for the next round of having our organs harvested! And you wonder why I don¡¯t want to risk letting you loose!? Bitch, even rock bottom thinks back fondly on the time you were that high up in life! And after all this, you have the gall to just pretend like none of this was ever happening!? I can¡¯t wrap my mind around how it¡¯s even possible for someone to be this goddamn delusional!¡± She looked appalled as she stepped back. ¡°You only remember me at my worst! Do you not remember any of the sacrifices I¡¯ve made!?¡± ¡°Sacrifices!?¡± He laughed. ¡°Sure I do.¡± He raised his fingers. ¡°Let¡¯s count ¡®em! You sacrificed my future. You sacrificed our safety. You sacrificed your¡ª¡± She slapped him. Yet, he didn¡¯t even react. It was as if he were made of stone. She took a subconscious step back and grabbed her wrist. Her arm hurt. His nostrils flared as he took a step in her direction. ¡°Are you gonna hit me?¡± she asked fearfully. ¡°Oh, I¡¯m this fucking close. But I won¡¯t. You know what I will do? I¡¯m gonna give you a chance. Move out! Go back to the city! If you can last for half a year without getting yourself into knee-deep shit, I¡¯m gonna apologize and take back every single thing I said.¡± Then he scoffed. ¡°But if you do exactly what I think you will, you will stop acting like a child and¡±¡ªhe took a deep breath¡ª¡±you¡¯re gonna let me finally have some fucking peace. Do we have a deal?¡± She shook her head and stepped back again. ¡°Just get out.¡± ¡°Will do. Oh, and just one more thing. Please, for the love of everything you hold sacred, never mention your son is a trainee in Valhalla. If anyone asks, I¡¯m dead and buried right next to my brother. I don¡¯t want to get any letters written in your blood.¡± He marched out of the room and slammed the door shut. Outside, he couldn¡¯t even take ten steps before breaking down. His hands shook as he raised them and slammed himself in the side of his head. Again. And again. And again. ¡°Why does she have to keep putting me through this¡­?¡± Chapter 149 - Skull. Slave. Vanisher. Keith Orland was the son of the current leader of Strata. He was a young, dashing man, with ear-length, dazzling golden hair, and eyes as green as marsh in the warm summer. His nose was hooked with an appealing, masculine bridge, his wide mouth usually rested in a pleasant smile, and his cheekbones protruded, giving him a shapely, hard face. Around a month ago, completely out of the blue, he had stumbled into one of the best deals he¡¯d ever had in his life. A stranger who went by ¡°Skull¡± gave him an offer he wouldn¡¯t have refused even if he knew it would undoubtedly come with a catch. Ever since then, every single week, with practically no additional work whatsoever, millions of dollars would fall into his lap, and his relationship with the local adjudicator became that much better. But it was bothering him. With every passing day, that nagging feeling in the back of his mind got stronger. Who exactly was this ¡°Skull¡± guy? What did he want? Why did he do business through Keith? They weren¡¯t trading penny stocks¡ªthis was a huge deal. And that money was going somewhere. Funding something. And the more time passed, the greater that pile of money became. Every weekend, he had the urge to cut the deal and bring this to an end. And yet, every weekend, his eyes flashed with dollar signs, and he simply couldn''t help himself. The offer was just too tempting. But then the killings began. Rumors of deaths not too unlike the death of one of their doctors started spreading. Brutal killings, clearly with some sort of message behind them. Horrible killings, with not even the tiniest of clues as to who had done it or how. Recording devices mysteriously broke down. There were zero signs of breaking and entering. Not a single shred of evidence that anyone was even there. And yet those people were all dead. Some were even two-stars. One was a peak two-star. Since then, he hadn¡¯t been sleeping properly. He hadn¡¯t been eating properly. Hell, he couldn¡¯t even bring himself to go out and have some fun. The paranoia had crept in and it was making itself comfortable. This was why he found himself walking to a certain location in the dead of night, doing something he¡¯d usually never do in his life. He got a message earlier that day. WE HAVE INFORMATION ON SKULL YOU MIGHT WANT TO HEAR. MEET US AT¡ªand it detailed the location. It was a suspicious, unverified message that could very well lead him right into a trap by a competitor. But just like the deals he kept making week after week, this offer was, too, far too appealing to refuse. He approached an old pub and stepped inside. The regulars all gave him strange looks. The bartender immediately spotted him and nodded, pointing a thumb over his back, directing him to a door. He nodded at the man and walked past him. There, he maneuvered through a maze of corridors, moving up and down the stairs, going left and right down narrow, decrepit halls. Until finally, he started hearing the music. Tucked deep within a residential complex was a secret club. And as he finally walked through the door and entered it, he immediately knew why it was a secret. The music blasted at an ear-rending volume. The people danced and thrashed, clearly not sober and clearly not on just booze. Clothes were plentiful, just not on the people dancing there. He walked forward, stepping around a wet pair of panties and a pile of jeans. ¡°Hey, handsome,¡± a woman practically screamed at him as he drunkenly grabbed his collar, trying to drag him away to the side. He slapped her and gave her a push, making her tumble to the ground and hit a man in his leg. The man reacted with immediate and extreme violence, kicking her in the head with his knee. Three other people joined him in kicking the woman on the ground, even well past the point she had already stopped moving. He scoffed and spat on the ground. ¡°Disgusting.¡± He spotted a waiter, who immediately recognized him and gestured his head, beckoning him to follow. After making it away from the crowds, he finally stepped into the private section of the club. There was a small corridor with a number of doors. He walked to the seventh on the left and stepped in. There was nobody there yet. It was a small, private booth, with enough space for ten people to sit side by side, and even a good deal of empty space if they wanted to dance. There was a bucket of ice, with a number of unopened drinks sitting on the table. Glasses rested upside down, arranged atop fancy paper towels. The music was also turned up to the maximum volume, but there was a dial on the wall, one that he cranked as far down as it would go. He took off his jacket and made himself comfortable. Well, he was hardly able to relax. He grabbed a bottle of vodka, using his nature affinity to check it for poisons. It was pure. He unscrewed the bottle and took a large sip. ¡°This is trash¡­¡± He anxiously waited, feeling the pit in his stomach deepen with every second that passed. It only took a few minutes for the doors to open. He raised his guard up as he watched the two people walk inside. He scoffed as he recognized them and his eyes narrowed. Heh. The Gems, huh? His two visitors were Gina and Tanner Gem, the remaining two direct descendants of the Gem family. While Tanner looked like the average asshole, with his smug chin and black hair scattered with white locks, Gina¡¯s soulless eyes unnerved him. Her hair was also black, reaching as low as her hips, and even covering a part of her face. ¡°So it¡¯s you two,¡± he said, resisting the urge to sneer. He took a sip of vodka. ¡°That¡¯s just great. I was hoping someone of some actual damn importance sent that, but alas.¡± Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°Still as sharp-tongued as ever, I see,¡± Gina commented with a lifeless smirk. ¡°Been a while.¡± ¡°Hello,¡± her brother added nothing of value, as usual. ¡°Nice to see that you actually showed up.¡± The two of them made themselves comfortable on the other side of the table. ¡°Hmph.¡± Keith scratched his chin as he stared them down. ¡°I heard you guys have information about a certain ¡®Skull¡¯?¡± Gina smiled. ¡°Yes. We have quite a few things to tell you about your client.¡± ¡°Heh. Charming. I really hope this isn¡¯t just going to be you two trying to get me to abandon my deal. I¡¯m not killing a golden goose just because you two brats don¡¯t like what I¡¯m doing.¡± ¡°But you did show up,¡± Tanner said with a serious expression. ¡°You have to already know that something is off about your ¡®client.¡¯¡± Keith was going to retort, but that was exactly the case. ¡°Alright. I¡¯ve answered your call. Now tell me what¡¯s going on.¡± Gina pulled a bundle of papers from her storage ring and threw it right before him. He eyed it and immediately recognized what it was. ¡°I¡¯m not that out of the loop. I know about the killings,¡± he said. The papers before him were detailed reports on all the high-profile assassinations. ¡°Just take a look at it,¡± Tanner insisted. He sighed and picked it up, flipping the papers. He noticed notes. Detailed notes, mostly referencing and connecting different events. ¡°What?¡± he asked with a scowl as he failed to make heads from tails from what he was seeing. ¡°Have you heard of the name ¡®Slave?¡¯¡± Gina asked. He nodded slowly. ¡°Slave. Yeah, I know who that guy is.¡± He smirked. ¡°The newest patient at the mad house in the woods. Why are you bringing him up?¡± Gina adopted a severe expression. ¡°We have a solid reason to believe that there is a secret organisation working in the shadows with the goal of overthrowing all the local factions.¡± He froze with a disbelieving grin on his face. ¡°You¡¯re kidding, right?¡± They stared at him. ¡°Seriously? Aren¡¯t you two too old to be doing this?¡± Tanner frowned. ¡°While it sounds a bit silly, there is a lot of evidence pointing at this fact.¡± ¡°Well all I¡¯m seeing here is a bunch of nonsense,¡± he said as he slammed the papers down. ¡°Why don¡¯t you guide me through it?¡± ¡°It all started with the death of Jason, our brother.¡± ¡°Jason?¡± Keith scowled. ¡°Didn¡¯t that prick die to a wild spirit? Oh, and no offense. But I doubt even you two miss that asshole.¡± Tanner ignored him as he continued, ¡°From the very beginning, we knew that it likely wasn¡¯t a wild spirit attack. It was just too strange. But now that we know of the existence of someone who has a pet spirit, well¡­¡± Keith swallowed. ¡°Skull¡­ You think he¡¯s the one who did him in?¡± ¡°We don¡¯t know,¡± Gina said. ¡°Our brother had been up to something suspicious that day. He kept no formal records of it. A few servants saw him go outside in a rush after finishing his work. There was also an attack on one of our businesses. The circumstances were bizarre. A violent brawl had gone down, yet there wasn¡¯t a single body there, and there were no witnesses. At first, none of this made any sense, but with time, we started piecing things together. Tanner cut in, ¡°The first clue was the appearance of ¡®Slave¡¯ and his connection to Valhalla.¡± He pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to Keith. ¡°Shawn had interacted with this man during a Fortress Dungeon run. He reported that the man had sacrificed a number of internal organs to maximize the benefits of an Unholy Blessing. According to our brother, the odds of survival after doing this were nonexistent.¡± Gina added, ¡°But not only did the man survive, he also seemed to be perfectly fine, as if nothing had happened. This was bizarre, but then, one day, a sudden explanation for it appeared.¡± Tanner cut in again, ¡°What if there was someone who was not just an expert at healing but also a master at cultivating replacement organs?¡± Keith¡¯s eyes widened slightly. He began sweating. ¡°You mean Skull?¡± ¡°Bingo,¡± Gina said. ¡°But that didn¡¯t quite click until the killings began.¡± Tanner growled. ¡°Our other brother had vanished into thin air. Just like the people at one of our businesses. This was targeted, one hundred percent. It was likely that our brother had discovered something, possibly relating to Slave, who had just happened to be at the Fortress Dungeon during our brother¡¯s disappearance, which is an airtight alibi, but it¡¯s also just a little too convenient. He could have known that our brother would vanish and wanted to make sure it couldn¡¯t be tied to him.¡± Gina sighed. ¡°Our father had noticed these strange happenings, and even without all the evidence, he was pissed enough to hire a Three-Headed Snake squad to go after Slave. The guy was a member of Valhalla anyway, so killing him was a solid move in any case.¡± ¡°But would you look at that!¡± Tanner said with a dark chuckle. ¡°Not only does Slave survive, he wipes the whole squad, and not just that, but something weird happens to the dungeon. We still don¡¯t know what happened there, but it¡¯s clear the guy has his secrets.¡± ¡°Then walks in Skull,¡± Gina said. ¡°Very shortly after the assassination of one of your doctors, too.¡± Keith gulped. ¡°Think about it,¡± Tanner said. ¡°Skull saves Slave from certain death. This ¡®Vanisher¡¯ guy helps Skull with his dirty work. That¡¯s already tied them all together, and not only that but they¡¯re all connected to Valhalla.¡± He tapped the side of his head. Gina added, ¡°It¡¯s rumored that Slave and Thor are good friends.¡± ¡°Not just good friends,¡± Tanner corrected, ¡°but really good friends. Our insiders from Valhalla are claiming that Thor had completely thrown Mad Dog aside in favor of pouring all his resources into Slave, it¡¯s total madness! People are pissed, and yet he isn¡¯t even letting Slave out on runs with them. It''s important to keep in mind, this Slave guy is dangerous. Proper dangerous. There¡¯s rumors that he had killed two three-stars, and that was while single-handedly pushing through at least a dozen two-stars.¡± Gina raised her hand. ¡°Let¡¯s also not forget what happened with the Fortress Dungeon. Some are speculating that this can only happen after all the waves have been cleared. Which would suggest that Slave had somehow beaten the whole dungeon all by himself.¡± ¡°He wasn¡¯t alone,¡± Tanner reminded. ¡°There was that mysterious other person who nearly died in there. But still, the point stands.¡± ¡°Okay, I get it,¡± Keith said, already visibly sweating. ¡°So what are you trying to say?¡± Tanner raised his hand, showing three fingers, then started counting. ¡°Skull. Slave. Vanisher. These are just the three we know of. There could be more. All three of them have incredible power, and they¡¯re all clearly in cahoots with Valhalla¡ªThor specifically, who we¡¯ve known for years to be the single biggest threat to our survival in this city. And you¡¯re doing business with them. Business, from what we¡¯ve heard, worth millions upon millions of dollars.¡± Keith nearly yelped. ¡°Millions¡­? Hahaha¡­¡± His breathing was ragged, and he wiped his palms on his jeans in a panic. ¡°Fuck.¡± Gina leaned forward. ¡°We know we can¡¯t force you to do this, but I think you should already know it would be wise to cut your losses and stop acting as a proxy for Skull.¡± ¡°You think I can do that!? The adjudicator is on the other end of this deal!¡± The two of them gasped and reeled in shock. He grinned maniacally. ¡°Uh-huh. Yeah. Exactly. You think he¡¯s going to be happy that I¡¯m getting in the way of his profits!? Worse, what if he decides to do business directly with Skull instead!? Oh, shit, I¡¯m cooked! You have no idea how bad this is¡­ That man keeps calling me all the time asking if I got any more. If these guys get an in with the adjudicator, we¡¯re screwed!¡± Tanner and Gina reluctantly looked at each other. They immediately knew what they were both thinking. They nodded. It was time to take this to Father Chapter 150 - Billionaire Freddy held on to what was left of his arm, sighing and extracting the spark of undeath from his storage ring. Surrounded by a sea of monster corpses, he had no shortage of fresh meat to feed the ball of flesh. Be it Ten Thousand Wet Hells or the newly upgraded Tsunami Strike, both were highly self-destructive. Tsunami Strike in particular was a nightmare to use. Even with a single star, his fist would be turned to mush. The only way to use it was to ensure that the strike landed perfectly and that it landed somewhere it would hurt. The rush of lifesteal was usually enough to keep his arm from blowing itself to bits. But even then, he¡¯d lose all feeling in the arm. This needed to be resolved as quickly as possible. Not to even mention the fact that it left him severely injured, the ability had another, bigger problem. Most of the force behind the strike was lost whenever his arm blew up. Simply put, without the ability to contain and transfer it, it was far from fulfilling its full potential. But in order to contain that force, he had to get accustomed to using Ten Thousand Wet Hells. ¡°Fuck,¡± he swore, clicking his tongue and finally getting up. His arm was¡­ mostly in one piece. It was time to get going. Given the current political climate in Valhalla, he was basically just waiting for Thor to finally buckle and send him on a raid. The people were dissatisfied, and if he wanted to shut them up, he needed to show that he was worth Thor¡¯s time. However, it was already quite well-known that he was a powerhouse. The problem was the fact that his temper had cost him his reputation. It would take a lot of time to regain the trust. There was no way to change everyone¡¯s opinion of him overnight. Unless¡­ Unless he showed that he was an even bigger powerhouse than expected. No matter how unstable they believed he was, if he could show himself as someone capable of single-handedly clearing a raid, that would shut them up. But in order for him to display this level of ability, he needed to be able to use Tsunami Strike. And to use Tsunami Strike, he had to get accustomed to a certain tempering technique. Ten Thousand Wet Hells was a nightmare of an ability. The more he worked on trying to use it, the more he realized just how much of a mistake this upgrade choice really was. There was simply no way to use it without risking his life. For a while, he had contemplated purchasing some sort of potion or something else that could temporarily enhance his resistance so he could ease himself into using it, but recently, he got an even better idea. He ran towards the nearest passage, and as soon as he was on the other side, he immediately used Blood Sacrifice. Blood gathered, and soon enough, Bloodshed spawned. Thankfully, the restriction on Bloodshed¡¯s movement applied to the place it was summoned, and not the place where the bloodshed happened. And the realm he was in was small enough that Bloodshed could move freely without fear of exiting its usual range. ¡°Okay, Bloodshed. Time to get started with the plan. I¡¯ll wall myself in, you get started with gathering the monsters.¡± Bloodshed nodded, and vanished in a blur. He cackled. ¡°Man, Bloodshed is fast as fuck. Heh. Thor would be proud¡­¡± But the day he introduced Bloodshed to Thor was still very much so in the distant future. He let Bloodshed do its thing while he retrated back to the previous realm and sat down. He replaced the Warrior King¡¯s Pendant with the water-affinity necklace. Then he entombed himself in a thick layer of blood metal. This was for the simple purpose of ensuring his limbs didn¡¯t go flying all over the place. Naturally, he was left without oxygen, but he¡¯d live. He waited for a while until Bloodshed sent the signal. ¡°I¡¯m ready, Master.¡± ¡°Good.¡± He triggered Ten Thousand Wet Hells. Immediately, his whole body started annihilating itself from the inside. But a moment later, an incredible rush of healing followed. He felt like his body was stuck inside a meat grinder, but he persisted, continuing to use the tempering technique while Bloodshed shredded the army of monsters it had gathered at the center of the other realm. He felt a powerful sense of deja vu. This felt like Thousand Wet Hells all over again, except ten times worse. For a moment, he once again felt the same feeling of impotence as back when he first upgraded Hundred Wet Hells. He was faced with what felt like an impassable obstacle, forced to resort to extreme means to make any progress. But he was no longer the same man as he had been back then. This time, things were different. At the base cost of 10% essence per second, which hadn¡¯t changed even after the upgrade, a 13% discount with the Ocean Medallion, and 2% essence coming from his satellite, he could keep Ten Thousand Wet Hells running for almost thirty seconds straight. But Bloodshed was in the middle of killing hundreds of monsters, which meant he was receiving a ton of essence every second. Enough to sustain the tempering technique¡­ indefinitely. Only contained by the tomb of crimson metal, his body kept exploding, his veins bursting, and his muscles popping like water balloons. An intense headache burst through his skull every moment as his capilaries failed to resist the constant outbursts of force, but before his brain could be damaged, the healing sucked the blood right back in and patched the damage over. Now matter where, as soon as the pain came, so did the healing, offsetting most of the damage he was suffering. Not all of it, but most. I can do this. He kept pushing. Soon enough, 30 seconds passed. He was entering dangerous territory. Even with the healing, the reflux essence was gathering rapidly, but he kept going. He¡¯d lived through an overload once. He could do it again. Come on¡­ What are you, a wuss!? This much pain is nothing! Soon enough, he was feeling the reflux essence surpassing his RETI. But he kept going. Pushing it further, and further. He could feel his own body mummifying as the water refused to stay contained within him. And as the water fled, Ten Thousand Wet Hells had nothing to act upon, gradually weaking. Yet, he kept pushing. Eventually, he finally lost consciousness and passed out. He didn¡¯t know how long he was out, or even when exactly he¡¯d lost consciousness. But by the time he regained himself, he was already perfectly healed. It had to have been quite a while given that the reflux essence had cleared out. The water that had fled his body had seemingly been sucked right back in. That was sort of unexpected. He had been banking on his Lake of Blood tempering technique, which stored a lot of blood in his heart, to rehydrate him once he passed out. But it seemed there were layers to his healing abilities that he hadn¡¯t yet discovered. He felt Bloodshed¡¯s intent reach him, and its words followed soon after. ¡°Master, I have exterminated all the monsters.¡± He quickly absorbed the blood metal he was encased in back into his skin. ¡°Excellent work, Bloodshed.¡± After a deep breath, he checked his progress. Ten Thousand Wet Hells: Stage 2¡ª3% Progress. 3% progress didn¡¯t seem like much given what he¡¯d put himself through. But he smiled from ear to ear. Compared to the progress he thought he was going to achieve? That was a lot. And he wasn¡¯t done with pushing himself. Not even close. After meditating to clear the reflux essence, he proceeded to another realm. For a long moment, he felt guilty about avoiding the task Thor had given him. Frankly speaking, what he was doing could almost be seen as a form of vandalism. But he chuckled to himself. ¡°Oh well. I¡¯m sure Thor will understand.¡± For a whole week, Freddy spent most of his time awake grinding away at Ten Thousand Wet Hells. It went slow at first, and then exponentially slower later. Despite investing nearly all his time into grinding a single ability, and despite using borderline insane means to grow it, he barely pushed it to 17% progress. This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. And yet, given the progress in his internal toughness, one would almost think he¡¯d pushed it up a whole stage. He noticed it in fights. Clawed swings he¡¯d usually have to fear could barely even leave a dent in him. Most blunt force strikes might as well have been tickling him. And he could use Tsunami Strike. It was still harmful to him, but not nearly enough for it to be a problem. Besides, as long as he landed it properly, a single-starred strike practically refunded all the damage through the influx of healing. On top of that, Dissipate Wave worked wonders for cancelling the ability. He was getting close to being able to upgrade it, and he was eyeing a potential candidate for the first construct¡ªrefund. The main problem was that the refund concept was exceptionally rare. Well, there was actually an even bigger problem in the fact that it might not work. But it was worth the gamble. Such an upgrade would hopefully allow him to reintake some of the water essence used in Tsunami Strike. Best case scenario was 50%. He¡¯d be happy with even just 25%. Tsunami Strike cost a lot of essence. After the most recent Abyssal Depths upgrade, it required 17% essence for just a single-starred use. Double-starred cost 34%. If he had to cancel the ability, that would result in a pretty consequential loss of essence. Doing anything to offset it was worth it. And it was exactly the type of thing that could impress Thor. Soon enough, using Ten Thousand Wet Hells no longer sent his limbs flying off his body. That wasn¡¯t to say the ability didn¡¯t still brutalize him, but it was far better than the catastrophe it caused at first. Throughout the week, other than training and exploring the interspace, he spent a lot of time shopping, gathering the last of what he needed for the Century of Solitude. And other than a few rare remnants, he had purchased practically everything he needed, all neatly contained within a box full of low-end storage rings. He also bought several storage boxes. They were about half a meter tall on the outside but were much bigger internally. These boxes were used to transport stuff from one place to another and frequently used to maximize storage space. They weren¡¯t of much use for carrying stuff around in person since they had no impact on the weight of the items inside them. If several tons of material were stored inside them, they¡¯d weigh several tons. But for that dungeon, they would play an indispensable role. Given that the dungeon lasted for a hundred years, he would need a place to store all his waste. Otherwise, he¡¯d drown inside what would eventually turn into a giant septic tank. As for the aforementioned rare remnants, he and Bloodshed were constantly keeping an eye out for them. It didn¡¯t take long to find anti-gravity, thankfully. There was a realm with a bunch of floating rocks in it. But refund was nowhere to be seen, unfortunately. He was also looking for impermeability, but that was surprisingly difficult to track down. If added to Crimson Dragon Scales, it would boost the essence blocking function, the most valuable part of the ability. Out of all the remnants he needed to upgrade his abilities to stage 2, this was the last one he found. Refund was the only one he outright couldn¡¯t find anywhere. It made sense, too. It wasn¡¯t like the concept had much of a presence in the natural world. The only way he could track it down would be if he found some sort of rare plant or material that could refund essence somehow, and even then, he might not find the right remnant beside them in the Netherecho. Frankly, he had no hopes of tracking it down on his own. He would have to buy it. But they simply didn¡¯t have it at the store that sold captured remnants. Given its rarity, it would most likely only be sold during a large auction. Tracking it down could be a massive pain in the ass. As always, at the end of the week, he harvested his organs and prepared them for trade. Bloodshed visited the man who acted as an intermediary as usual. The man wrote down the information on the location and left. Nothing out of the ordinary happened. As soon as the goods were picked up, the money landed in his bank account. He walked to the bank that night to check that everything was all right. As he took out a statement at the bank, he sighed deeply at the number he saw on the paper. Current balance: $1,002,941,624 One fucking billion dollars. He had been spending his money quite fast, so he had technically already earned this much money, but it was only now that he ran out of things to buy that he passed the threshold. He could barely believe what he was seeing. On his walk back home, he couldn¡¯t stop thinking about it. On that day, he had become a billionaire. A goddamn billionaire. He could live a whole century in absolute luxury and still not spend all the money. Hell, if he invested it properly, he could probably live in luxury off the interest alone. Double hell, even if he just took the rounding error off the top of the billion dollars, he could live an incredibly comfortable life in a middle class neighborhood. Just thinking about it made his heart flutter. He was immortal¡ªunaging. Strong. Handsome. And rich as fuck. Everything a man, anything anyone could ever ask for¡ªhell, everything he had ever wanted¡ªwas all already in the palm of his hand. And then some. And then some on top of that. He found himself standing in an ordinary street, with a lively, crowded restaurant to his right, shining a warm, cozy light over him, and a residential building with closed shops on the first floor across the street. And there, his steps suddenly halted. There, he stopped in his tracks, his heart pounding in his chest and his breathing coming unevenly. He could feel his hands shaking and hear ringing in his ears, all while the world around almost appeared to fade into the background. ¡°Why do I bother with any of this¡­?¡± His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his phone ringing. He gasped, nearly jumping back. He could feel it vibrating in his pocket. Once. Twice. Thrice. It kept ringing. But he stood frozen, unable to bring himself to answer it. It rang again. And again. Then, it stopped ringing. Then, it started ringing again. Reluctantly, he reached for his pocket and pulled it out. ¡°Hello?¡± Thor¡¯s voice came through it, clear as crystal and louder than any other sound on the desolate street. ¡°Hey¡­¡± ¡°Yeah, uhm, I know you¡¯re on a day off today, but I¡¯d like you to stop by my office. It¡¯s kind of an emergency.¡± ¡°Is everything okay?¡± ¡°Yeah, uh¡­ It¡¯s nothing immediate.¡± ¡°Can you tell me what it is?¡± ¡°I¡¯d like to tell you in person.¡± Freddy¡¯s jaw clenched. ¡°Why don¡¯t you tell me right now?¡± ¡°Just come over and we¡¯ll talk, okay?¡± ¡°And what if I don¡¯t want to?¡± Thor went silent. ¡°What? Sorry, what did you just say?¡± ¡°I¡­ Never mind. Sorry. I¡¯ll come over right away.¡± ¡°Okay, man¡­ See you then.¡± ¡°Bye.¡± Freddy ended the call. The bulky phone felt heavy in his hands. He clenched it and quickly put it away in his pocket. But he didn¡¯t move. He couldn¡¯t bring himself to take even a single step. All he felt at that moment was hesitation. He knew why he was being called. But he didn¡¯t know why he should go. Suddenly, he sighed. He¡¯d think about it later. For now, he had to go. He pulled out the bike from his storage ring and rode it to Valhalla¡¯s headquarters. There, as soon as he stepped into Thor¡¯s office, he got the news he already knew were waiting for him. ¡°I¡¯m going to need you to join us for a raid,¡± Thor said, his fingers locked in a grip so tight his knuckles turned white. ¡°They¡¯ve been bullying you again, I guess?¡± Freddy asked, sighing. ¡°I understand. I promise I won¡¯t go out of control or act out again.¡± He hesitated for a long moment, his whole body raising as if he were about to say something. ¡°Hmm?¡± Thor hummed. ¡°What?¡± ¡°I¡­¡± He deflated. ¡°Nothing.¡± He got up. ¡°Just let me know the exact time.¡± ¡°Tomorrow. 10 p.m.¡± ¡°Okay. See you then.¡± ¡°And Freddy¡­¡± ¡°Hmm?¡± Thor¡¯s expression darkened. ¡°Show them what you can do.¡± He nodded. And then left. And as promised, when the moment came, he arrived. Standing beside the rest of the vanguard was Freddy, wearing a simple white shirt and grey sweatpants. He could feel the confusion and simmering resentment of the others around him. ¡°Why isn¡¯t he geared up?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t tell me he is about to do something crazy again¡­¡± ¡°Does Thor know?¡± But he ignored them, triggering Crimson Dragon Scales instead. His body was coated in the red scales, covering him from head to toe. The other members looked at each other and then him, bewildered. But they kept their mouths shut. Their target was an abandoned building on the outskirts of the city. The lights in the building were seemingly off, but they already knew this was just an illusion. On the inside was a drug operation. And not just any drug operation¡ªone where they tested the drugs on captives. It was the same as usual. Anyone standing before them was already sentenced to death. They stood in the way of freedom. Their existence was inexcusable in a just world. They had decided to put their lives above those of others. And for that, they would die. It didn¡¯t take long for the announcement to arrive. They received the signal, and the vanguard charged towards their target. This time, Freddy was the fastest right from the get-go. He made it to the building way before anyone else, and with a dropkick, burst through the opening doors. An alarm blared. Guards gathered, filling the hallway and rushing his way. He lifted his left hand. Atop it, a ball of segmented metal appeared. There were a lot of guards present. He had tested this combo with the Tsunami Strike many times, but always stuck to just single-starred use. But at that moment, he knew he wasn¡¯t just there to be efficient. He was there to show off. He threw the ball into the air before him, and without hesitation, cast Tsunami Strike with both stars. The ability immediately sucked up a huge mass of essence, fueling a raging tide that rolled throughout his entire body. It coursed through his limbs, concentrating in his fist, compressing so violently his hand wanted to explode. The men rushing him could feel that something was off, their steps halting and guards raising. The two stars shining in Freddy¡¯s chest were overpowering, radiating an aura of absolute destruction. His fist landed on the crimson ball. The ball exploded with a violent flash of light, a thundering noise, shimmering red dust, and a barrage of lethal shrapnel, with the shockwave blowing windows up, shaking the building, bursting eardrums, and the shards smashing the walls, crushing armor, bone, tearing skin, skittering and ricocheting in a cacophony of ringing metallic dings and screams, splashing concrete dust and bloody mist, flooding the hall with wet gore. His hand was a bit mangled, but most of the damage had been offset by the healing. He stood there, his own mouth agape at the horror he had manifested. Everyone in the hallway before him was dead. In pieces. The vanguard that had moments ago been charging had now stopped, waiting behind him and observing apprehensively. Freddy couldn¡¯t hold back a pleased snort. ¡°How¡¯s that for showing off¡­?¡± ¡°Please!¡± someone shouted from down the hallway. ¡°Stop! W-we surrender!¡± Chapter 151 - Treachery Charlie King watched from his perch on a nearby building as Freddy Cliff proceeded to completely obliterate the defenses of their raid target in a single move. He watched the shockwave travel through the first floor, witnessing the windows shatter one after another. Slowly, the bow he had pulled taut, ready to shoot anyone trying to escape, loosened in his grip. ¡°Jesus Christ¡­¡± ¡°Charlie!¡± one of the goons beside him shouted. ¡°One of ¡®em is runnin¡¯!¡± Indeed. Among the defenders, one had leaped through a window, his arm hanging shredded to his side, bleeding profusely as he sprinted away as if chased by the devil himself. The man who had called his name pulled his slingshot and prepared to shoot the fleeing target down. ¡°Don¡¯t!¡± Charlie shouted, grabbing him by the arm. ¡°But he¡¯s gonna¡ª¡± ¡°I said don¡¯t fucking shoot.¡± His glare made the man look away and reluctantly retract his weapon. The two men standing beside him eyed him with apparent shock. The other one barked. ¡°Charlie! What¡¯s wrong with you? We¡¯re under explicit command to stop anyone from running away!¡± The man stepped back, clearly furious. ¡°I¡¯ll tell the brass about this. This is unacceptable.¡± ¡°Is that so?¡± Charlie asked as he nocked an arrow and shot the man right between his eyes. The other man gaped at the corpse and swallowed. Charlie looked at him. ¡°Leon. Can I trust you to keep your mouth shut?¡± ¡°But¡­¡± The man¡¯s breathing was heavy. His eyes moved from the dead body to the killer. ¡°Why?¡± ¡°Do you even have to ask at this point?¡± he said with a good amount of exasperation. He put a palm to his forehead and sighed deeply. ¡°Tell me, are you happy here? Do you feel like your family is safe? Do you feel like your future is in good hands?¡± ¡°I¡­¡± Leon hesitated. ¡°Just fucking look at him¡­¡± he spat with a sour chuckle, pointing at Freddy. ¡°Do you think that level of power is normal? I¡¯m not naive enough to buy it. I don¡¯t know what kind of devil Thor had sold his soul to, but something about this is clearly wrong. Nothing is going right. For years, we¡¯ve been getting all these promises, but what do we actually have? We aren¡¯t official. People still see us as terrorists. And with fuckers like that, I don¡¯t judge anyone for being afraid.¡± Leon remained quiet. Charlie stepped up to him, pressing a finger to his chest. ¡°We were fired at by their rangers. That¡¯s why he¡¯s dead, and that¡¯s why we missed the man running away. Can I count on you?¡± Leon stood frozen for a long moment. Then, he slowly nodded. *** Freddy approached Thor, who stood to the side, smoking a cigarette and watching as the victims and the perpetrators were slowly taken out of the building. Thor nodded at him and forced a smile. ¡°Good job.¡± He handed him a cigarette. Freddy accepted it and Thor lit it for him. He pulled deep, sucking in a lungful of smoke. He slowly exhaled, watching it twirl in the calm evening air. ¡°What are you going to do with them?¡± he asked, pointing at the tied up men and women who had run the operation. ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°You don¡¯t usually take prisoners. What now?¡± ¡°What else?¡± The man chuckled, shaking his head. ¡°They¡¯ll be handed over to the adjudicator.¡± Freddy scowled. ¡°I see.¡± ¡°Is that a problem?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve always wondered, why doesn¡¯t the adjudicator take care of these operations himself? Could it be that he¡¯s involved somehow?¡± ¡°Be careful what you say,¡± Thor warned. ¡°But that¡¯s a good question. Mostly it just comes down to the fact that this isn¡¯t the adjudicator¡¯s job.¡± ¡°Then what the hell is his job?¡± ¡°Look. I don¡¯t like the dude, either, but it is objectively true that he¡¯s too busy. His job is to maintain order in the Northern Belt, and that means dealing with the people in charge and keeping them in check. It isn¡¯t his fault that the empire refuses to fund an actual police force.¡± Freddy blew another puff of smoke. ¡°But he¡¯ll take these people? I don¡¯t get it. Why don¡¯t you take prisoners more often then?¡± Thor smiled sadly. ¡°Because people rarely surrender.¡± He scoffed, flicking the cigarette ashes off. ¡°To be honest, being shipped to the adjudicator is practically a death sentence. It takes one hell of an alternative for people to willingly surrender themselves.¡± Thor eyed him with a questioning glance. ¡°Speaking of which¡ªwhat the hell was that?¡± Freddy chuckled. ¡°A ball of fragile metal smacked with a very overloaded punch.¡± He grinned, pulling out a piece of paper, writing down the current state of the relevant abilities, and handing it to Thor. Thor eyed it and sighed. ¡°I see. So basically, a supercharged old-world shotgun. Neat.¡± ¡°What do you think? Is that gonna shut up the whiners?¡± The man sighed. ¡°They¡¯ll shut up about you, at least. Well¡­ they won¡¯t complain that you¡¯re a waste of resources.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t get it. Why do you let them act like this? Shouldn¡¯t you be disciplining your subordinates better?¡± ¡°Discipline¡­? Heh. Maybe. I¡¯ve always had a stick and carrot approach to the way I run things.¡± He flicked away the cigarette butt. ¡°Too bad I ran out of carrots.¡± This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. ¡°You know, I¡¯ve noticed that the morale at Valhalla has been at a steady decline for a while already.¡± He looked Thor dead in the eye. ¡°What¡¯s the deal with that? From everything I¡¯ve seen, Valhalla is in the best spot it¡¯s ever been.¡± Thor¡¯s fists clenched. ¡°You aren¡¯t wrong. We¡¯ve never been more powerful than this.¡± ¡°So what¡¯s up then?¡± Thor reached for his pocket, pulling out another cigarette and lighting it. He stared off into the distance for a long moment. ¡°Back when I first founded Valhalla, I made a promise. One day¡±¡ªhe pointed at the sky¡ª¡±we¡¯ll make a deal with the empire. I really thought they had every reason to agree to our offer. Why wouldn¡¯t they? We never asked for any money. ¡°All we ever needed from the empire was a badge. A formal declaration that we were official. That¡¯s it. So that the people could trust us. So that the other factions would think twice before targeting us or trying to run crime rings. But after years of begging on my knees, all I ever got from the adjudicator was soul poison and the middle finger.¡± He chuckled, shaking his head. His eyes became glossy. His jaw trembled, and the cigarette slipped out of his mouth, tumbling to the ground. He lit another one. ¡°We always kept an optimistic outlook on our future. But honestly, it¡¯s getting hard to keep our chin up Sure, we¡¯re in a good spot right now, but¡­ fuck, man. If the empire doesn¡¯t want to acknowledge us, that kind of implies¡ª¡± ¡°That they¡¯re against what you¡¯re doing?¡± Thor nodded. ¡°Yeah. Exactly.¡± ¡°That doesn¡¯t really surprise me. Outside the Northern Belt, this place has a reputation as a haven for criminals. To the empire, it is like a flytrap that gets the scum out of the mainland. I¡¯m not shocked that they don¡¯t want that reputation to change.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve heard similar stories my whole life,¡± Thor said. ¡°But that doesn¡¯t mean it has to stay like that. The Northern Belt has the potential to be of use for other purposes. The Far North is rich in ether and other resources. Let four-stars stay and give it a century, and it would develop into far more than it is today.¡± Freddy laughed at that. ¡°Sounds fun. Maybe they¡¯ll allow it when they finally run out of places to expand to in the south. And places to expand to in the interspace.¡± ¡°Hey. You never know.¡± He laughed. ¡°Imperialism and greed know no limits.¡± Freddy remained quiet for a moment, simply smiling at Thor. ¡°You¡¯re a tough dude. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll figure it out. As for the others, just let me know who¡¯s bullying you and I¡¯ll take care of it, okay?¡± Thor chuckled and punched him in the arm. ¡°Shut up, you prick. Why are you even sitting here? Get your ass up and go help.¡± ¡°Aight, boss.¡± He mock saluted and jumped to his feet. ¡°I¡¯m on it.¡± *** ¡°Why does he keep ignoring us!?¡± Tanner shouted as he kicked a table leg, breaking it off. Gina sighed, taking a sip of her drink which he caught just before the whole table toppled over. ¡°Relax. You know how Father is. I¡¯m sure he¡¯s received our message. He¡¯ll act on it when he thinks it¡¯s necessary.¡± ¡°And when will that be!? When another one of us dies!?¡± She shot him a sharp, cold glare. ¡°I am as frustrated as you are, but there is no point in throwing tantrums. All we can do for now is wait.¡± Tanner growled as he dropped on the couch. It had been a while since they forwarded the details of their investigation to their father. He hadn¡¯t even acknowledged it. They had accented the importance of their work and even asserted that their very lives were most likely at risk, but he still hadn¡¯t said anything. It was frustrating, to say the least. The most insulting part was that they had heard that he was doing his own independent investigation into the same matter. He was digging into the same sources. Best case scenario, he was trying to confirm that their information was legitimate. Worst case scenario, he had yet again dismissed their report as the meddling of children. This was how it always was with them for anything. The leader of the Gem family was well over a hundred years old. And it seemed to have messed with his understanding of what an adult was. Even though they were almost middle-aged by mortal standards, they were treated like they were prepubescent children at times. But then, finally, after much waiting, their phones rang and he invited them into his office. They practically ran there. The Gem & Faller headquarters was a tall building located on the outskirts of Repentawa. Most of the floors were dedicated for office space for the great number of different businesses they were running. And the top floor, the entirety of it, was their father¡¯s office. With its rustic decor and wide, open space, it felt more like a legal court than an office. They rushed through the lobby, and before long, found themselves standing before the entrance. They paused, steeling themselves for the meeting. And then, they opened the door. But nobody was there. The two of them slowly made their way forward. Suddenly, the sound of flushing came from a room in the corner of the office, and a bulky man walked out. By all means, he appeared no older than they were. But he had an ageless aura about him, a posture that betrayed his life experience. His lush beard and faint scars gave him a rugged look, and his thick black hair was trimmed short and neat. For a long moment, he kept up the hard look. But as soon as he noticed his children standing there, he visibly melted, and skipped over to them. ¡°Tanner. Gina. My darlings,¡± he said as he pulled both of them in a tight hug. ¡°How have you been? Oh, you must have been worried sick with all these killings and whatnot. Did the guards I sent disturb your sleep? ¡°I hope you haven¡¯t been sleeping at night when the killings usually happen. Oh, you must have been so scared. Come. I bought some sweets for you. For you Gina, I even got some premium dark chocolate. Your favorite.¡± ¡°Father¡­ that was my favorite candy when I was 7.¡± ¡°What?¡± He visibly deflated. ¡°Do you not like it anymore?¡± ¡°I¡­¡± She sighed. ¡°Whatever. Sure. I¡¯ll have some.¡± ¡°Can I have some whiskey?¡± Tanner asked. ¡°What?¡± His father blinked. Then he chuckled. ¡°You¡¯ve always been so funny, Tanner. Come, I got orange juice.¡± The man turned and headed for a fridge in the corner. ¡°Father, I¡­¡± Gina called. He paused, slowly turning around. ¡°Hmm? Is everything okay?¡± Tanner growled. ¡°Did you even read the report we sent you?¡± ¡°What?¡± He appeared puzzled for a long moment. ¡°Oh, yes, I have. By the way, excellent work you two! Look, I even put a copy of it on my fridge!¡± He hesitated for a moment. ¡°What¡¯s with those looks? Are you embarrassed? I¡¯ll take it down if that¡¯s the case.¡± ¡°Father¡­ Just when are you going to start taking us seriously?¡± Tanner asked, clenching his fists and tightening his jaw. ¡°I do take you seriously.¡± He walked over to the fridge, opening it and looking inside. ¡°Father¡­¡± Gina cut in. ¡°I share Tanner¡¯s sentiment. You treat us like children.¡± ¡°What!?¡± He stopped pouring the orange juice into a glass and slowly put the bottle down. ¡°That¡¯s nonsense. Anyway, I invited you two to finally share some good news!¡± They glanced at each other. ¡°Good news?¡± ¡°We¡¯ll get into that in a moment.¡± The man suddenly turned and pressed one of many buttons on the table. ¡°Jean, darling, can you please send our guest into the main office? Thank you.¡± The two of them raised eyebrows as they walked forward and took a seat at the large office desk. Tanner sipped on the orange juice and Gina took a bite of the dark chocolate. They had to stop themselves from audibly groaning in displeasure. Both the juice and the chocolate were damn good. Their father, for his part, just smiled at them lovingly and patiently waited for whoever he¡¯d invited to arrive. Before long, the doors to the office finally cracked open, and a woman took a peek inside. It was their father¡¯s assistant, and she briefly bowed before guiding another woman in. As soon as Tanner spotted who it was, he rushed to his feet. ¡°You¡­¡± ¡°Hey¡­¡± she greeted awkwardly. ¡°I haven¡¯t seen you guys in a long time¡­¡± It was Hellen Black. Chapter 152 - Reputation Not everyone was capable of coping with the terrors of human cruelty. Even when Valhalla¡¯s raids went perfectly, there was always a large number of people who needed a drink. Or two. Or enough to knock them out. While Travis had something of a reputation as a ferocious fighter, he was the delicate sort otherwise. His heart tore apart whenever he saw horrible things being done to innocents. He had habituated to such sights a long ago, but they always got to him, if only a bit. This most recent raid was one of the most shocking he¡¯d ever seen in his life. He was steps behind Freddy when he witnessed that man launch his attack. Having more power was always good. But that¡­ The river of blood that man created with a single move¡­ It made even him avert his gaze. Although the defenders surrendered this time, for the first time in a long, long while, it wasn¡¯t before sniping down one of their rangers. It was a man Travis had known and quite enjoyed talking to. While he considered it a terrible habit, he couldn¡¯t hold himself back from heading out for a drink. At the same seat, at the same old bar he always went to. There were more people there that night than usual. He was about three beers in, feeling miserable and torn, when the door swung open, and another person entered. He didn¡¯t turn around to see who it was. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw three men give a respectful salute. It was obvious who it was. ¡°Hey,¡± Thor called, standing a bit behind Travis. Travis remained silent for a moment, working to unravel the knot that had formed in his throat. Then, with the best smile he could force on his face, he turned around. ¡°What are you waiting for? Come on. Take a seat.¡± Thor nodded and obliged. The two of them drank in silence for a while. Then, when the alcohol finally kicked in, they began chatting. The topic of the raid didn¡¯t come up for a long while. They were there to take their minds off it to begin with. But the elephant was too big not to be addressed. ¡°Hey Thor¡ªdo you¡­ do you trust Freddy?¡± Thor swirled the whiskey in his glass, then stared at it until it settled. ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°That was a long pause.¡± ¡°Man, what the hell do you want from me?¡± he jabbed with a chuckle. ¡°I do trust him. I really do. You know, it¡¯s just that¡­ I¡­ I get why you¡¯d ask me that.¡± He took a sip of the drink. ¡°Hmph. He¡¯s too dangerous to risk giving him blind trust.¡± ¡°And yet he¡¯s too powerful to give up.¡± Travis stared at the foam floating atop the beer in his mug. His mind drifted for a long moment. He chewed on the corner of his lip. ¡°What¡¯s he like as a person?¡± ¡°Didn¡¯t you already meet him a number of times?¡± ¡°Not enough to form a real judgement.¡± Thor scoffed, taking another sip. ¡°He¡¯s violent and resentful.¡± Travis shot him a look. Thor groaned and sighed. ¡°Don¡¯t look at me like that.¡± ¡°Do you think you¡¯re maybe letting desperation make your choices for you?¡± Travis squinted. ¡°The Thor I know wouldn¡¯t¡ª¡± ¡°Look, Travis¡­¡± He blew air through pursed lips and buried his fingers in his hair. ¡°It¡¯s clear as day that our plan of going official had been a dead end. The only path forward is one of absolute strength. And don¡¯t be so quick to cast judgment. You haven¡¯t really met Freddy yet. He isn¡¯t that bad. He just has some baggage, that¡¯s all.¡± ¡°Yeah¡­ I mean¡­ I heard about the, uh¡­¡± ¡°That girl. Yeah. Basically braindead, from what I know.¡± He sighed and took a sip. ¡°But you know¡­ I get a feeling he¡¯s used to it. I haven¡¯t really asked him much about his life, but even the few things I¡¯ve heard¡­ sheesh. It¡¯s a damn miracle he isn¡¯t a completely unhinged bastard. And don¡¯t forget how we met him,¡± he reminded. Travis thought back to that day, where he saw Freddy risk his life to step up during a serious crisis. ¡°Yeah¡­ Maybe I¡¯m being a little biased.¡± ¡°And why would that be?¡± Travis glanced at him, but quickly averted his gaze. He impatiently sighed and scratched the side of his head. ¡°I have to be honest with you Thor; I¡¯m pretty fucking jealous of that guy.¡± ¡°What? Why?¡± ¡°Come on, isn¡¯t it obvious?¡± He scoffed as he looked away. ¡°He basically replaced me.¡± ¡°What!? No, dude, don¡¯t be ridiculous!¡± ¡°Am I being ridiculous?¡± he asked, a quivering undertone to his voice. ¡°Fuck. I know this is going to sound pathetic, but it used to be you and me, you know? Thor and his right-hand man. And now, what even is my role? Left-hand man? Doesn¡¯t feel like it.¡± He growled as set the mug down. ¡°You know, I¡¯m¡­ Never mind.¡± He rushed to his feet and headed out. ¡°Wait!¡± Thor called. Travis paused without turning around. ¡°I know we agreed a long time ago not to blend business and friendship.¡± He then slowly turned around, revealing a deep sadness in his tired eyes. ¡°But I¡¯m¡­ Even outside work, it doesn¡¯t¡­ it just doesn¡¯t feel the same.¡± His head dropped as he hesitated. He turned around. ¡°I¡¯ll see you around, man.¡± He walked away. Thor looked at Travis¡¯s parting back and sighed. He looked down at the glass, staring at his distorted reflection in the whiskey. Suddenly, the doors burst open. He rushed around, expecting to see Travis rushing back in. But instead, he saw Freddy. ¡°Oh, found you,¡± Freddy said as he walked inside. The others in the bar visibly shrank. Everyone avoided eye contact, focusing on their drinks as if they were the most interesting thing in the world. Freddy shook his head at this as he walked up to Thor. ¡°I need you for a moment.¡± ¡°Can¡¯t we talk here?¡± he asked. Freddy looked around. ¡°I¡¯d prefer a bit of privacy.¡± Thor sighed and snapped his fingers. ¡°Sound barrier. Nobody will hear us.¡± He glanced at Freddy. ¡°Just sit down. I¡¯m not in the mood to get up.¡± ¡°Okay. Sure.¡± He took a seat. ¡°So look, okay¡­¡± He sighed and broadly gestured at everyone in the bar. ¡°I think we have a bit of a problem.¡± Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. Thor snorted. ¡°Your reputation, huh?¡± ¡°People are not going to complain about your investment in me, but that doesn¡¯t mean that they won¡¯t still feel uncomfortable. You know, I¡¯ve been thinking about it all night, and¡­ I¡¯m realizing I¡¯m making a mistake again. This isn¡¯t the first time I¡¯ve ignored my reputation until things boiled over and bit me in the ass.¡± ¡°So what do you want to do? A photoshoot with babies?¡± Thor snorted. ¡°Maybe a propaganda campaign? How about a slogan¡ªFreddy is ready to protect you from the evil people of the Northern Belt!¡± He pointed at Freddy, smirking and cackling to himself. ¡°Can you take this seriously?¡± ¡°No, I can¡¯t,¡± he said, cooling off suddenly. He took a deep gulp of whiskey, emptying the glass. ¡°You¡¯re right that your reputation is fucked. And that¡¯s your fault. You¡¯re a stranger. You don¡¯t talk to people. Well¡­ other than me.¡± He scoffed. ¡°Just go out more. Take some time out of your day to show the others that you exist. There is no magic bullet here. People aren¡¯t dumb. Any sort of concerted effort to improve your reputation will be seen right through.¡± Thor waved at the bartender, and the man wordlessly nodded, turning around to fill another glass. Freddy scowled. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you say something about this earlier?¡± ¡°And what exactly should I have said? And why? You think I care people are scared of you?¡± He scoffed. ¡°Please. If people hated you, it would be a different story. But this¡­ This isn¡¯t bad for me in the slightest.¡± He got his drink. ¡°Whether you¡¯re beloved or feared, I can use both to my advantage. This is your problem. If you don¡¯t like it, stop being a shut-in and make some friends.¡± Freddy hesitated for a long moment. He stared at Thor, brow furrowed and mouth slightly agape. ¡°Are you okay, man?¡± Thor was about to take a sip, but his hand froze. He turned to face Freddy, but he couldn¡¯t meet his eyes. His lower lip quivered. He put the drink down and got up. But he didn¡¯t go anywhere. He simply remained standing, his back turned to Freddy. ¡°Just ignore what I said. The booze was talking.¡± He turned around with a cheerful smile and tapped Freddy on the shoulder. He squeezed lightly. ¡°You joined Valhalla at the peak of the second star. Most people integrate through their training period. ¡°That¡¯s when you tend to meet the most life-long friends and carve a place for yourself in the community. And you missed that. I don¡¯t know what to tell you. If you want to fix the problem, it will take a lot of work. Work that might not be worth it. Tell me, does the treatment you¡¯re getting bother you?¡± Freddy paused. ¡°Bother me¡­? I don¡¯t know. Maybe. But that¡¯s not really the reason I came to you with this. I am already aware that I¡¯m not just another fighter in this faction.¡± ¡°Stop,¡± Thor said gently. ¡°I know where you¡¯re going with this, but don¡¯t get any funny ideas. You think you¡¯re going to conquer this whole city as soon as you reach the third star, don¡¯t you?¡± ¡°Am I wrong?¡± ¡°You might be,¡± Thor spat sharply. ¡°I¡¯m not going to pretend like I¡¯m not aware of your potential, but I can tell you¡¯re severely underestimating the other factions.¡± He bent forward slightly and whispered, ¡°Valhalla isn¡¯t immune to traitors and spies. The other factions are already aware of your existence. They¡¯re probably thinking the same thing. And they¡¯ll prepare for you accordingly. Don¡¯t get cocky. I¡¯ve spent almost a decade dealing with these bastards. They can get real nasty to deal with when cornered.¡± He pulled back. ¡°Well, you don¡¯t have to worry about that for now. They¡¯re cowards first and foremost. As long as their leaders have to risk their own lives, they won¡¯t move a muscle. I know for a fact they¡¯d rather pick their shit up and migrate somewhere else. They might be three-stars, but they had long ago gone from fighters to just businessmen. We¡¯ll win this war by showing them that staying here isn¡¯t profitable.¡± He tapped Freddy on the shoulder. ¡°Good night, Freddy.¡± ¡°Wait,¡± Freddy called. ¡°Hmm?¡± Thor hummed as he paused. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± ¡°What if¡­ what if I told you I had a way to wipe them all out?¡± His mind whirled with the image of the black portal¡ªthe entrance to the Century of Solitude. Thor remained quiet for a long moment. And then, he smacked the back of Freddy¡¯s head as hard as he could. ¡°Ow!¡± Freddy yelped. ¡°What the fuck, man¡ª¡± ¡°Freddy,¡± Thor spat sharply, looking down on him with a stern gaze. ¡°Power always comes at a cost. I don¡¯t need to know your means to understand their price.¡± His eyes appeared to grow distant as his safe softened. ¡°If you keep paying hand over fist, you will wake up one day. And there will be nothing left.¡± He turned around, his wide back blocking the light. ¡°Some things aren¡¯t worth losing. Be better to yourself.¡± And with those words, he left. Freddy could feel the air shift as the sound barrier vanished. ¡°So¡­¡± the bartender started as he approached while polishing a mug. ¡°Are you ready to order, sir?¡± For a long moment, he was going to say no and leave. It was already quite late. But he turned around and glanced at the people there. Nobody was looking up. Freddy snorted and shook his head. ¡°I guess I have to start somewhere¡­ Hey, bartender.¡± ¡°What¡¯ll it be?¡± ¡°A round for everyone, please.¡± He pulled out his card. ¡°My treat.¡± *** Everyone stood around Hellen as she struggled to calm down, weeping and sobbing hysterically. ¡°Poor girl¡­¡± muttered Tanner, scowling and shaking his head. Truly, the tale of the abuse this woman had been put through had disturbed even them. She had been effectively kidnapped and locked away in what was basically a prison. And being taken away from her life and held captive wasn¡¯t even the worst part. The whole time, she had to watch her son get brainwashed by Valhalla, turning more and more hostile towards her until he practically disowned her and threw her out into the streets to fend for herself. ¡°Heh. Some warriors of justice,¡± Gina said as she shook her head. ¡°It¡¯s amazing how brazen they are in their lies.¡± The patriarch of the Gem family sighed as he got out of his seat, clicking his tongue and shaking his head. ¡°You poor girl¡­ Why have you never come to us before?¡± he asked. ¡°For better or worse, you are the mother of my late grandchild. We would have helped you out.¡± She froze. ¡°I¡­¡± She glanced at the huge man, gulping. ¡°Father¡­¡± Gina started hesitantly. ¡°Jason wasn¡¯t really the most¡­¡± ¡°Hmph. I already know. That boy lied to me!¡± he declared angrily, smashing his large fist on the table. ¡°When my grandchild came, Jason claimed that the mother wanted nothing to do with us. Oh, that stupid boy! I was too lenient with him.¡± A sad expression washed over his face. ¡°But now it¡¯s too late for regrets¡­¡± He looked at Hellen. She winced. ¡°Uhm¡­ Is it okay that¡ª¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± he said. ¡°I know what you¡¯re concerned about. It¡¯s about your second son, right?¡± She nodded. ¡°Even though he is not part of our family, I will still accept him with open arms.¡± Hellen¡¯s face lit up for a moment, but then she was yet again overwhelmed by emotion. ¡°Thank you¡­ You have no idea how much this means to me¡­¡± ¡°We¡¯ll bring him to you soon enough,¡± he said with a wide smile. ¡°For now, you should go and rest.¡± She nodded, rushing up to her feet. She excused herself and left the office. ¡°Is this why you invited us here?¡± Gina asked. ¡°What about the¡ª¡± ¡°Do you two know why I treat you the way I do?¡± They froze. The man sighed, getting up to his feet and walking over to them. ¡°You see, we aren¡¯t the same as our animalistic lessers. What sets an archhuman adult apart from a child is not some number. What do years mean to us? We still don¡¯t even know the true limits of a two-star¡¯s lifespan, let alone how long a three-star can live.¡± He stopped right before them, pulling both of them into a hug. ¡°To me, you two will always be my kids. But if you want me to take you seriously, you will need the power to back your attitude.¡± He released them, stepping away. ¡°I already knew everything you shared in your little report. In fact, you actually made a number of mistakes. But nevertheless, I am still proud of your work. So I will reward you.¡± He turned around to face them. ¡°I will show you that those stories of ¡®Vanisher¡¯ and ¡®Skull¡¯ or whoever the fuck are nothing but cute rumors compared to the true powers hiding in the shadows.¡± He looked at the watch on his wrist. ¡°In 11 minutes, you¡¯re going to meet a monster.¡± That was the last thing he said before moving to his chair, where he proceeded to wait in silence. The clock ticked by. Minute by minute, the tension rose. They had no idea who was coming. But they could feel in their bones that their father wasn¡¯t joking. There was a vague pressure. A gnawing. As if the room was quivering in anticipation of someone¡¯s arrival. Their father waited with a stern expression. 3 minutes left. 2 minutes left. 1 minute left¡ª The patriarch got up to his feet, facing the closed door. In the next moment, the door opened. ¡°Welcome,¡± their father said. ¡°My name is Keagan Gem. I am the co-owner and CEO of Gem & Faller. These two are my son and daughter¡ªTanner and Gina Gem.¡± ¡°Cool place you have here,¡± a man¡¯s voice came from the other side. Tanner and Gina were frozen. They couldn¡¯t even lift their head. Whoever was entering the room was doing nothing to hide their aura, which had to be pretty close to the peak of the third star. And beyond that, something sinister swam within it. It was as dark and hostile as the night, and as twisted as a deal with the devil himself. His steps echoed through the room until he finally stopped right in front of them. ¡°Nice to meet you all. My name is Mark Afronte. I heard you have a pest problem. Let¡¯s talk about that.¡± 1% Lifesteal audiobook is up for preorder! Hell yeah, boiioiooioo. Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. Chapter 153 - Peace Everyone liked money. Even those who pretended like they didn¡¯t still enjoyed things money could buy. When Freddy bought a round of drinks for everyone at that bar, he hadn¡¯t expected much to come of it. It was such a small gesture that it could barely even be called a favor. And yet, even he could tell that the people there saw him in an ever so slightly better light. This was enough to inspire him. That night, he decided to take some time to dedicate himself to gifting the people of Valhalla to at least ameliorate the awful opinion most had of him. He stayed up all night and hatched the perfect plan. Trying to improve his standing with the fighters of Valhalla was the ultimate goal. But getting there would be difficult. Thus, he would work from the ground up. First, he would target their families. He would go to the residential area and start knocking on doors. Then, he would politely introduce himself and hand over a gift. But what should he give? He couldn¡¯t be cheap. There were very few mortals living in Valhalla. Even the non-combatants were still mostly archhumans. So he went shopping. He collected luxury foods, medicine, kitchenware¡ªstuff that anyone would need in everyday life. As for the budget, he stuck to under $100,000 per individual-slash-family. He didn¡¯t want to be too generous. There was just one small problem¡ª ¡°Please go away,¡± the woman said as she slammed the door in his face. He looked down at the basket and scratched the back of his head. He¡¯d been knocking on doors all morning. This was the fifteenth person he visited. And yet, among these people, only a single man had even talked to him, and that was only until he learned his name. ¡°Shit,¡± he cursed. This was way worse than he thought. But even then, the way the people reacted was just a little strange. Even if they knew who he was, it was too exaggerated. Something was wrong. He wanted to get some advice from someone. But who? He felt like most of the fighters would have a skewed perspective, and he didn¡¯t know anyone that¡ª He snapped his fingers. ¡°Lucas¡¯s mom!¡± Rushing his way through the hallway, he found the place she lived and knocked on the door. Nobody responded. ¡°Must be out somewhere. Maybe Lucas knows where she is.¡± So he looked for Lucas. He found the boy eating in the mess hall. However, just as he entered, he heard a bell ring, and the boy, together with most of the other trainees, got up and turned to head for the exit. Before Lucas could leave, Freddy walked up to him. ¡°Hey there.¡± The others all gave them some space as they streamed out of the hall. ¡°Hey, Freddy¡­¡± Lucas greeted. ¡°Is something wrong?¡± ¡°Quick question: where is your mum?¡± ¡°I¡ªWhat?¡± Lucas scowled. ¡°My mom?¡± ¡°Do you have a minute? Let¡¯s sit down and have a chat.¡± ¡°Actually, I should head back to practice¡­¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± Freddy said. ¡°I¡¯ll let them know I needed you for a bit.¡± ¡°Uh¡­ Cool. Well¡­ Let¡¯s sit down then.¡± And so they did. ¡°Why do you need my mother?¡± Lucas asked apprehensively. ¡°Well¡­ It¡¯s kind of complicated. Do you know where she is?¡± ¡°She¡¯s¡­ she¡¯s busy.¡± ¡°What about later?¡± ¡°She¡¯ll be busy later, too.¡± Freddy cocked an eyebrow. ¡°Okay? Uh¡­ I guess I¡¯ll ask you, then. You were a mortal just a while ago.¡± He proceeded to explain to Lucas what he was trying to do and the reactions of the people he visited. Lucas¡¯s reaction wasn¡¯t what he expected to see. ¡°Huh!?¡± the boy blurted. ¡°Are you dumb?¡± ¡°What? What am I missing?¡± ¡°Okay, uh¡­ You do realize who you are, right? Even if you ignore your identity, just look at yourself! You¡¯re a hulking mass of muscle, and your face is terrifying.¡± ¡°My face?¡± he touched his beard. ¡°What¡¯s wrong with my face?¡± ¡°Well, I mean¡­ nothing¡¯s¡­ wrong with it, you¡¯re just a bit sharp. And that beard and long hair give you a wild look. On top of that, look at the way you dress!¡± ¡°What?¡± Freddy looked down. He was wearing an ordinary white T-shirt and blue jeans. ¡°Come on, this is perfectly fine casual clothing!¡± Lucas raised a finger. ¡°It¡¯s too casual. You don¡¯t look polite.¡± ¡°Polite? Come on¡­¡± ¡°Didn¡¯t you say you were a mortal not too long ago?¡± Freddy paused. ¡°Yes. I did say that.¡± ¡°Okay, just think back to those days. Someone¡¯s knocking on your door. You open the door and you see someone just like yourself. How would you react?¡± He immediately realized the problem. ¡°Oh, yeah, I get it now.¡± Lucas just nodded with a ¡°told you so¡± expression on his face. ¡°Look, if you want, we can go get you some new clothes and change your look. I can¡¯t really say I¡¯m a fashion expert. But I know someone who could really help us out.¡± ¡°Hmm? And who is that?¡± *** ¡°Hello, Mr. Cliff,¡± Lucas¡¯s girlfriend Janice greeted with a quick bow of her head. She inched closer to Lucas and leaned closer to his ear. ¡°Why did you call me to come here?¡± Lucas smiled at her and explained Freddy¡¯s problem. ¡°Oh! I see!¡± she said as she eyed Freddy with a strange look. ¡°And yeah, you¡¯re definitely right¡­¡± ¡°So! What do you suggest we do for him?¡± Lucas asked. She tore her gaze away from Freddy and looked at Lucas. ¡°Uhm¡­¡± She put on a strained smile. ¡°Everything?¡± Lucas and Freddy met eyes. It looked like this would take a while. Thankfully, Valhalla¡¯s premises had a number of shops and locations they could visit. Their first destination was a tailor. ¡°Okay¡±¡ªJanice clapped her hands as she lapped around Freddy¡ª¡±for your clothes, we are aiming for a disarming look. You¡¯re naturally quite¡­ uhm¡­ intimidating. So we should look to minimize that. First, I suggest a white dress shirt. A bit loose. We want to hide the defined muscles and veins and all that. As for the dress pants, we shouldn¡¯t go with black because that would make you look too formal. I suggest beige. We¡¯ll get you some black dress shoes, and for the final touch, suspenders instead of a belt.¡± The tailor listened and nodded, getting to work. The fabric affinity was a relatively common special affinity and a very popular one among non-combat archhumans. The tailor had this affinity, and with his abilities, putting Freddy¡¯s new clothes together was a piece of cake. The cloth also felt quite luxurious, and the tailoring was very precise and professional. The shoemaker was right across the street, so while the tailor was working on the clothing, they got Freddy some fancy dress shoes. He sucked air through his teeth as he tried them. ¡°These are way too tight.¡± ¡°Grin and bear it,¡± Lucas said with a cheeky smile. There was still a bit of waiting left, so they went to the next location¡ªthe barbershop. Janice took a look at his face and nodded. ¡°Either shave your beard off or cut it down to a stubble.¡± ¡°What!?¡± he shouted. ¡°No! That¡¯s stupid; I like my beard!¡± ¡°I¡¯m gonna have to agree with her here, man,¡± Lucas said. ¡°That beard gotta go. Also, maybe cut the hair a¡ª¡± ¡°No,¡± he spat sharply with a severe expression. ¡°I¡¯ll cut my beard to a stubble. But don¡¯t touch my hair,¡± he said while gently caressing his shoulder-length hair. Janice winced. ¡°At least touch it up a little bit!¡± ¡°Okay. I¡¯ll touch it up. But no cutting!¡± he said with a pointed finger. ¡°Fine. No cutting.¡± She turned to Lucas, squinting her eyes. ¡°Ponytail?¡± He nodded slowly. ¡°Ponytail.¡± They both turned to face him and parroted, ¡°Ponytail.¡± He sighed. ¡°I hate you guys.¡± The barber made quick work of his beard and hair. Freddy felt quite sad watching his glorious beard vanish. And a little uncomfortable, too. It revealed the face hidden beneath. The face that no longer looked the same. But as his beard slowly reduced to a stubble, he saw something that made his breath catch in his throat. He¡­ recognized himself. Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. Now that he was finally used to changes, they no longer appeared so out of place. He wasn¡¯t as different as he had initially thought. ¡°Anything else?¡± The barber interrupted his thoughts as he finally brought the cut to a close. Freddy looked over his features. His hair was nicely tied behind his head, with its curly locks unraveling past the scrunchy tying it into a tail. It revealed the sides of his face, brightening his complexion. His beard was cut a bit shorter than he¡¯d expected. It was basically just stubble. But it looked neat. Clean. The wilderness had abandoned him. His clothes were finally done. He entered the changing booth and put them on. Janice and Lucas waited outside. A moment later, he walked out. The two of them gaped. Lucas grinned. ¡°Damn, bro¡­ If I didn¡¯t have a girlfriend, you¡¯d be in trouble.¡± ¡°Lucas!¡± she shouted, punching his arm with an exasperated smile and rolling her eyes. She turned to face Freddy. ¡°You look very good, Mr. Cliff.¡± ¡°Thank you, Janice.¡± ¡°There is just one more thing¡­¡± she said, cupping her chin. ¡°Hmm?¡± ¡°We have to work on your body language.¡± While he finally looked the part, he still had an intensity to him. He looked ready to fight at any moment. They stood before a mirror while Janice guided him on fixing his posture. Usually, he stood ramrod straight, his arms pushed out slightly, shoulders tense, and his head tilted just a bit forwards. It was a very aggressive stance. Softening it was a lot of work, especially given his size and build. But bit by bit, it was working. Chin up higher, shoulders relaxed, back just slightly bent. And from there, one minor adjustment at a time, he slowly started to look like he wasn¡¯t about to go kill someone. Janice cooed. ¡°This is going so great!¡± She clapped her hands together. ¡°Okay, now we just have one more thing! Your smile! Okay, now¡ªgive me your biggest, brightest smile!¡± Freddy nodded and broadly smiled at her. ¡°Aah!¡± she yelped and jumped back. ¡°What?¡± he stammered. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± ¡°Oh my god,¡± she said, holding her hand to her chest as she rushed to catch her breath. ¡°Sorry. You just surprised me a bit.¡± ¡°Pffft¡ª¡± Lucas burst into laughter, holding his stomach. ¡°You!¡± she yelled as he kicked him in the ass. ¡°Be quiet!¡± ¡°What?¡± Freddy asked again. ¡°Okay, just¡­ Turn to the mirror,¡± she said. He obliged, turning to the mirror. Freddy considered himself quite the smiler. He smiled often. Well¡­ grinned more often than not. And not for the most joyous of occasions. And if he really had to smile, he usually just put on his practiced customer service service from back when he worked as a cashier. But she had told him to give her his brightest, biggest smile. So he repeated it in the mirror. Immediately, the smile was replaced by a wince as he realized what the problem was. ¡°Wow. Okay¡­ Wow.¡± He looked positively psychotic! Way too much eye action. It was a smile that could make a toddler shit itself. Janice thought for a moment. ¡°Okay. Let¡¯s do a small smile instead.¡± This time, he put on his practiced smile. She immediately lit up. ¡°That¡¯s good! Very good! Looks a little practiced, but still, that¡¯s perfect! I think we have a winner!¡± ¡°Okay then.¡± Freddy breathed out. ¡°Does that mean we¡¯re done?¡± ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s pretty much it! Oh, yes, don¡¯t forget about the way you talk! That¡¯s also¡ª¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯m a pro at that one.¡± She paused. ¡°Well uh¡­ See you later, then, I guess.¡± ¡°No wait,¡± he called. ¡°I¡¯d like to take you two out for dinner. As a thanks.¡± They looked at each other and nodded. ¡°Sure,¡± Lucas said. ¡°We didn¡¯t have any plans for tonight anyway.¡± There weren¡¯t any ¡°fancy¡± restaurants in Valhalla. These people weren¡¯t really fans of that kind of elitism. But that didn¡¯t mean there weren¡¯t nice places for families to come and eat together. He took them to exactly one such place. They ate and chatted away. The food was warm and delicious. Freddy hadn¡¯t had an actual meal in a long while already, so it was particularly comforting. The place was full of people, with many families and even young children there. Nobody gave him weird looks. Hell, he wasn¡¯t sure whether anyone even recognized him. He looked back at Janice and Lucas. She was leaning on his shoulder while he picked at the tip of her nose with his finger. ¡°Your nose is so tiny,¡± he said. ¡°Shut up,¡± she retorted, slapping his hand away. They both noticed he was looking at them and turned to face him. She pulled her head back and chuckled a bit. ¡°Sorry about that.¡± ¡°You two look beautiful together.¡± They froze for a moment, then smiled. ¡°Thanks,¡± Janice said. ¡°Thank you for setting us up,¡± Lucas added. ¡°You know¡­ you two have changed quite a bit since I first met you. You both seem much more confident and¡­ happier.¡± Lucas nodded. ¡°In some ways, yeah. We both still have our problems, of course.¡± He turned to look at her. ¡°But it¡¯s easier to deal with all of it together.¡± He pulled her hand in and intertwined his fingers with hers. Freddy looked down for a moment, feeling a form of envy he had never experienced before. He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the drink on the table. It was strange. While there was a note of bitterness¡­ His smile. It didn¡¯t look so practiced anymore. *** Penny was an old woman in her seventies. She was a mortal. Not by lack of opportunity, as was true for so many others, but she was among the rare few who decided that it just wasn¡¯t for her. She had been born a human, and she decided to die as one, too. But it was isolating sometimes. There was practically nobody she could talk to other than her son. Most people her age in Valhalla were all archhumans. Even at her age, they still looked as if they were in their thirties. It made it difficult to connect. It made it hard to relate. On yet another dull afternoon of sitting before a BC, she heard her doorbell ring. She perked up. ¡°It must be Travis¡­¡± She forced herself up to her feet and walked over to open the door. To her surprise, it wasn¡¯t her son. It was a polite-looking, large man holding a gift basket. ¡°Hello!¡± he greeted her. ¡°My name is Freddy Cliff. You must be Mrs. Hallow?¡± ¡°Ah, yes,¡± she said as she reached to shake his hand. ¡°That is me. W-what is this about?¡± ¡°Oh, this? Haha, nothing serious,¡± he said, waving his hand casually. ¡°I just realized I had been a member of Valhalla for a long while already, so I thought it was high time to finally properly introduce myself to everyone.¡± ¡°Ah, yes, I see¡­¡± She suddenly realized it. ¡°Wait. You are¡±¡ªshe stammered, tripping over her words¡ª¡±that Freddy Cliff?¡± He chuckled. ¡°Yes, that¡¯s me.¡± She stared for a moment. ¡°Sorry, I didn¡¯t realize it. This old head is¡­ It took me a moment to make the connection,¡± she giggled politely. ¡°Are you free? If you wish, you can come in and have a coffee.¡± ¡°Oh, sure. Thank you. I¡¯ll bring this with me,¡± he said, gesturing at the basket. ¡°And what is that?¡± she asked, pointing at the basket. ¡°Oh, this? Nothing, just a small gift.¡± *** Freddy continued with his project, knocking on doors and chatting people up. It was truly amazing just how much of an impact a change in looks had. He was no longer refused on sight. Everyone at the very least heard him out. As he¡¯d already known, his reputation in Valhalla was terrible. But thankfully, among the non-combatants, it hadn¡¯t quite taken as much of a root as it did among the fighters. Everyone was a bit reluctant when they realized who he was. But he saw the same reaction play out on numerous faces. First, they realized who they were talking to¡ªthere was a spike in anxiety and apprehension. But then, when they took another look at him, they immediately calmed down. After all, how bad could this polite young man really be? Soon, the rumors of him going around started to spread. He also learned that his estimation of what a ¡°generous¡± gift would be for non-combat archhumans was blown way out of proportion. It only made sense. He wasn¡¯t a non-combatant. He didn¡¯t even really know any non-combatants. So how the hell was he supposed to know that $100,000 was a totally absurd sum to spend on gifts? He had absolutely no frame of reference. While his mission was going a lot better, it wasn¡¯t all hunky-dory. ¡°You!¡± some man shouted when he spotted Freddy in a hallway. He rushed forward, hauling the gift basket. ¡°What the hell do you think you¡¯re doing?¡± ¡°Excuse me?¡± The man thrust the basket back into Freddy¡¯s arms and angrily marched away. ¡°Stay the hell away from my wife and kids!¡± As the man vanished behind a corner, Freddy sighed. ¡°Okay, dude¡­ Jesus.¡± And he wasn¡¯t the only one. Some, Freddy managed to convince that his intentions were innocent. And others, well, they acted the same as the first man. For days on end, he knocked on doors and sipped on coffee of varying degrees of quality. He listened to the people, hearing about their plights, and in the same way, he taught them about who he was. It wasn¡¯t once that was asked about the work he did with Valhalla. On one particular visit, he met the husband of Lara, one of the most powerful fighters Valhalla had to offer. Her husband sat in the kitchen, holding his toddler son on his bouncing leg. The kid was asleep. He asked rather bluntly. ¡°Are you doing this just to fix your reputation?¡± Freddy paused at the question. ¡°I guess you could say that.¡± He scratched his cheek. He looked down. ¡°To be honest with you, that¡¯s how it started. But now¡­ Haha, I¡¯m starting to feel like I really should have done this a long time ago.¡± The man smiled. ¡°For what it¡¯s worth, my wife doesn¡¯t have a bad opinion of you. And I can tell she is right. Valhalla is safe in your hands.¡± ¡°Thank you. I appreciate that.¡± As he kept up the visits, he was running through the checklist a bit faster than expected. There were a lot of non-combatants in Valhalla, but a surprising number of people lived in large families, with close and distant relatives all in the same living space. It seemed to be a cultural thing. The Northern Belt was a dangerous place. Ordinary folk were generally poor. It was common for many people to live under the same roof. His visits were basically just a PR stunt. But as he kept moving from family to family, he could tell that something within him was changing. He saw smiles and happiness. He saw struggle and tragedy. He saw bitchy teenagers and petulant toddlers. He saw hard-working young men and women. It was confusing at times. Just how ugly it could be, yet how much beauty he found within. He was filled with prime and shame alike. Just barely. He knew he was in the right place. And while many reacted to his visits with anger and vitriol, just as many among the fighters appreciated the gesture. ¡°My family thanks you for the gift.¡± ¡°I was going to ask Thor for some medicine, but I didn¡¯t want to trouble him. Thank you.¡± ¡°My grandma was quite bored these days, thanks for paying her a visit.¡± ¡°Hey, my dad asked if you were going to come around again one of these days.¡± ¡°My son has been talking about you ever since you came along. Would you mind coming with us to watch him play basketball this Saturday? ¡°Thanks, man, but we can¡¯t accept this basket. It¡¯s just too much. If you insist, you can buy me a beer.¡± ¡°Thank you, Mr. Cliff.¡± ¡°Thanks, dude.¡± ¡°Thank you for the visit.¡± ¡°Thank you, Freddy.¡± And on one day, he spotted a man in a hallway with an angry woman standing behind him. She pushed him forward and he clicked his tongue as he reluctantly approached Freddy. ¡°Hey¡­¡± It was the same man who had attacked him before. ¡°Sorry about my previous outburst. That was stupid of me. My wife really chewed me out for that one,¡± he said with an awkward laugh. ¡°Anyway, I just wanted to let you know you¡¯re always welcome at our place. And again, I¡¯m sorry I made some assumptions about you. ¡°Thank you for keeping us safe man. We really appreciate it.¡± The man bowed and walked away with his family. That evening, Freddy returned to his apartment and collapsed on the bed. He couldn¡¯t muster the will to move. He was paralyzed. His chest was tight, and his stomach churned uncomfortably. He couldn¡¯t accept it. ¡°Really¡­ ¡°Has it really been this easy this whole time?¡± *** Lucas walked through the hallway on his way back from training. He was in a good mood that day. Freddy¡¯s stunt was clearly working. The public opinion on him was improving incredibly quickly. Naturally, Lucas¡¯s connection to him was also broadly known. Until now, this had actually caused him a number of problems. But now? Oh, man, he could feel the shift in his status like the turning of the tide. What didn¡¯t he have? He was good looking, excellent at fighting, and his connections were top notch. And his girlfriend was adorable. He just hoped she didn¡¯t find out other girls had started paying more attention to him. He was lost in his thoughts, so he hadn¡¯t realized he was about to run into someone. ¡°Ah, sorry,¡± he said as his steps suddenly paused. But the man had stopped, too. Lucas looked up to meet the man¡¯s face and immediately recognized him. It was Charlie King! He was one of the more respectable seniors of the organisation. Some even claimed that without him, the number of casualties they took on raids would easily be double what it was. ¡°Hello Sir!¡± He greeted and saluted the man. ¡°Hello, there, Lucas Black,¡± he said, forcing a smile. ¡°I was just looking for you.¡± ¡°What? For me? Why?¡± ¡°Funny story, actually.¡± The man swung an arm around Lucas¡¯s neck and leaned in. ¡°We have your mother. Follow me if you want her alive.¡± Chapter 154 - Love and Hatred ¡°Who the hell are you!? Get out of my damn office!¡± Thor shouted as he threw a stapler at Freddy, hitting him square in the chest. Freddy gave him an unamused look. Thor cracked a cheeky smile. ¡°Hey there Freddy. Love the cut. And the style. And the uh¡­ well, you¡¯re a whole new character now, aren¡¯t you? Damn, you really took this PR shit seriously, huh?¡± Freddy chuckled, shaking his head. ¡°Not¡­ really, actually.¡± He walked forward, taking a seat before Thor. ¡°Most of this just kind of happened. I was just gonna introduce myself to everyone, give out some gift baskets, and fuck off back to work.¡± ¡°Typical Freddy. You just can¡¯t stick to normal parameters.¡± He smiled. ¡°Guilty as charged.¡± ¡°Also, what exactly inspired you to donate such a vast amount of money?¡± ¡°Well¡­ let¡¯s just say I slightly overestimated the financial state of the people living here. Speaking of which¡­¡± Freddy looked torn for a moment. ¡°Isn¡¯t Valhalla actually super poor?¡± Thor gave him a flat look. ¡°Are you just now figuring that out? Jesus, man¡­ You really weren¡¯t paying any attention.¡± Thor sighed and got off his chair. ¡°Other than safety from the other factions, we don¡¯t have much to offer here. We can¡¯t run any stable business given how often we get sabotaged, and expeditions into the interspace can only get us so far. ¡°We supply and produce most of the stuff we need ourselves, which saves us from just straight up starving to death, but even then, we¡¯re in no position to brag¡­ There¡¯s a reason I¡¯m willing to risk so much to keep the passage in the basement under wraps. It¡¯s a golden ticket to prosperity.¡± ¡°I see¡­¡± Freddy slumped in the chair, sighing. Naturally, if he was willing to disclose his organ farming operation, he could solve Valhalla¡¯s financial troubles in a heartbeat. But he had no intention of doing that. He owed much to Valhalla, but he would pay that debt back and then some through the work he was doing. A billion dollars might have been way more than enough for a two-star to live a life of leisure and luxury, but for someone who intended to keep growing into the third star and beyond, it wasn¡¯t nearly enough. It was barely enough to cover the cost of a single three-star satellite. God knew what kind of other bullshit he¡¯d need to pay for if he wanted to remain competitive. However, just because he wasn¡¯t willing to part with the bulk of his wealth, that didn¡¯t mean he was unwilling to invest in Valhalla. The gifts he¡¯d given away had only taken up a relatively tiny portion of his income, but the reputation boost he¡¯d received in return had made his life far easier. ¡°Anyway¡­¡±¡ªThor grabbed a stack of papers and propped it on the desk to settle them in an orderly fashion¡ª¡°I thank you in the name of Valhalla for your generous contribution. Now, are you gonna get back to work?¡± Freddy thought about it for a moment and then shook his head. ¡°I¡¯ll take another day. I have a favor to pay off.¡± ¡°Oh? To whom?¡± ¡°Lucas. And his girlfriend. The two of them had given me valuable advice on how to change my look. I had already taken them out for dinner once, but I¡¯m thinking I might go for something a bit more concrete.¡± ¡°Like what?¡± Thor asked with a serious expression. Freddy raised an eyebrow. ¡°You seem rather interested.¡± ¡°Of course I am. Lucas is a star trainee. He¡¯s extremely talented.¡± Freddy paused. ¡°Wait, what?¡± ¡°Is this really the first time you¡¯re hearing this? Hell, I even plan on tutoring him myself as soon as I get some time to do so.¡± ¡°You¡¯re kidding?¡± ¡°No. I¡¯m dead serious. Which of course means I¡¯m quite interested in what you plan on giving the boy¡± ¡°Wow. Okay. Uhm¡­ Well what do you suggest I give him then? What do you think he needs?¡± ¡°Well, he needs everything from equipment to guidance to experience to elixirs to¡ª¡± ¡°I get it. But what would be the best thing to give him now?¡± ¡°The best thing? I¡¯d say a¡­ unique prime with a second talent that turns him into a godlike entity.¡± Freddy gave him a flat look. ¡°What? You asked what the best thing would be. Sheesh. Be more specific.¡± ¡°Thor you have work and I¡¯d like to get this over with today.¡± The man chuckled. ¡°Okay, okay, if you really really really want to show off how great of a friend you are, then¡­ buy him a satellite.¡± ¡°Damn. That¡¯s a good idea. But where would I buy one?¡± Thor paused. ¡°Wait, you¡¯d actually do it?¡± ¡°Of course I would,¡± he said. ¡°If he¡¯s a star trainee as you say, then it would be a worthwhile investment. But as far as I know, there¡¯s no place that would sell such an item in Repentawa. And also as far as I know, even if I had the money for one, the people who sell them are extremely selective with who they do work with.¡± ¡°You aren¡¯t wrong,¡± Thor said. ¡°They are, indeed, a bitch to get your hands on. But there is a way to get one here.¡± ¡°Oh? Really? Where?¡± Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. ¡°Over at the adjudicator¡¯s compound.¡± ¡°Hmm¡­ I see. Would he be willing to do business with me?¡± ¡°Sure thing. You can buy one from him if you can afford it. It¡¯s just that¡­ well¡­ given where we are and the fact that he¡¯s basically the only source, the price is a wee bit marked up.¡± Freddy sucked air through his teeth. ¡°How much?¡± ¡°Twenty million.¡± Freddy released an involuntary breath of air through pursed lips. ¡°Goddamn. That¡¯s almost a third the cost of a two-star satellite over at the empire proper.¡± Thor grinned. ¡°Still feelin¡¯ generous, big guy?¡± While that was a lot to pay for just a one-star satellite, it was still within the range of what he was willing to spend. But he had to show at least some reluctance. Otherwise, Thor might get suspicious of where he even got that much money. ¡°Well¡­ I¡¯m gonna think about it. I¡¯ll go see Lucas first.¡± Thor chuckled. ¡°Sure thing. Have a good one. Oh, and if you¡¯re willing, you can also just leave some money to me, and I¡¯ll forward it to fund his training resources.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not a bad choice, either. Anyway, I¡¯ll talk to you later.¡± ¡°See you later, man.¡± Freddy left the office and proceeded to visit Lucas¡¯s apartment. He knocked on the door a few times, and eventually, Janice opened the door. She beamed at him once she saw him. ¡°Hey, Freddy! Hi! Are you looking for Lucas?¡± He smiled back. ¡°Yeah. He should be done with his training around this time, right?¡± ¡°Mhmm.¡± She frowned a bit and peeked out the door, checking the hallway. ¡°He¡¯s late, though. But he should be here soon. You want to wait inside?¡± ¡°Uhm¡­ Sure.¡± He entered the apartment. It was a relatively small and frugally decorated place. Still, it was warm. He could tell that they¡¯d poured their hearts into making it a pleasant living space. ¡°You want coffee? Tea? Juice?¡± ¡°Coffee is fine.¡± They sat and chatted a bit while waiting for Lucas. ¡°Man, he sure is taking his time,¡± Freddy said as he took a sip of his beverage. ¡°He sure is.¡± She sighed. Time kept passing. Before long, he was almost an entire hour late. Freddy tapped the table impatiently. But the clock kept ticking. He was almost two hours late. And Freddy was done waiting around. ¡°You know what? I think I¡¯m gonna go looking for him. He probably stopped by his mom¡¯s place.¡± ¡°What? No, he definitely isn¡¯t there,¡± Janice said. ¡°Hmm? Why not?¡± ¡°Because¡­ his mom doesn¡¯t live here anymore?¡± Freddy froze. ¡°What!? What do you mean!?¡± ¡°She moved out a while back¡­¡± ¡°That fucking idiot! How could he let her do that!?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t call Lucas an idiot!¡± She shouted. ¡°This wasn¡¯t his choice. She didn¡¯t want to live here, so she moved out. How is that his fault?¡± ¡°Well, he should have locked her in her room then!¡± ¡°You¡­ How could you say that?¡± ¡°Do you know how I could say that?¡± he spat, scowling at her. ¡°Because there are traitors in Valhalla! People know who he is. People know who his mother is! The instant the wrong person spots her, he¡¯ll be blackmailed!¡± All color drained from Janice¡¯s face. Freddy growled. ¡°Fuck!¡± He sprinted out of the room, rushing and praying that Lucas was just caught up in some chore. *** Lucas sat in the back of a black, unmarked van. Right beside him was Charlie King, who sat casually digging dirt behind his fingers. His hands were shaking. His heart was beating out of his chest. What a stupid thing he¡¯d done, letting his mother out of his sight. But it was too late for regrets now. The van finally stopped. A moment later, the doors opened, and Charlie beckoned him to leave. The man, however, stayed inside. As soon as he left the van, he froze at the sight before him. He was in the middle of a luxurious residential block that looked unlike anything he¡¯d seen in Repentawa. But they hadn¡¯t driven to another city. Meaning¡­ these were the headquarters of another faction. ¡°Hello, Lucas.¡± A woman wearing business casual clothing greeted him. ¡°Welcome to the Gem & Faller headquarters. Please, if you¡¯ll follow me.¡± She gestured towards the biggest building in the block. He was taken¡ªwell, frankly, it was more apt to say that he was escorted into the building. The only person there was the woman, and she didn¡¯t look like a combatant. She guided him through the massive, opulent lobby of the building and walked into one of the many elevators there. She pressed her finger on the button leading to the highest floor, and Lucas gulped. He felt paralyzed. Something was wrong. This wasn¡¯t just some random group of thugs. He knew damn well who these people were. The family of the late Jason Gem. The place where his brother ran to. The people under whose watch he died. And as the elevator inched closer to their destination, he had a horrible premonition. The doors opened. He followed the woman into an eerily quiet, massive room. And there, standing right beside a bulky man, was his mother. ¡°Lucas¡­¡± she whispered as she rushed to him. She lunged into a hug, grasping him tightly, almost as if trying to stop him from running away. ¡°What¡­?¡± he muttered. The man who had been standing next to her stepped forward. ¡°Nice to meet you, Lucas Black. Allow me to introduce myself. I¡¯m Keagan Gem, CEO of Gem & Faller. I apologize for the heavy-handed nature of this invitation. We had to ensure that we could safely get you out of there before anyone could notice. I am deeply sorry if we frightened you.¡± ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± he asked, turning to his mother. ¡°What are you doing?¡± ¡°Oh, Lucas! I¡¯m so glad to have you back!¡± ¡°What the hell are you talking about!?¡± He grabbed her arm and forced her off him. ¡°Are you insane?¡± ¡°Lucas¡­¡± ¡°Hellen, we expected this might happen,¡± the CEO said. ¡°It might take a while to undo the brainwashing.¡± ¡°What? Brainwashing¡­?¡± Lucas muttered absently, looking between his mother and the CEO as it slowly started to set in. ¡°You¡¯re joking, right? You seriously did this to me?¡± He started breathing rapidly. ¡°What about Janice?¡± ¡°What about her?¡± Hellen asked. ¡°It¡¯s not like you were intending to marry her.¡± He burst into sudden laughter. ¡°I can¡¯t believe this. I can¡¯t believe I was stupid enough to be worried about you.¡± ¡°Lucas¡­¡± She took a step forward. ¡°I hate you,¡± he said bluntly, still unable to tear the shocked smile off his face. ¡°I truly fucking hate you.¡± Her expression darkened. ¡°Lucas¡­¡± ¡°You still don¡¯t get it?¡± He spat in her face. His spit rolled down her cheek. She looked at him in shock. Keagan snapped a finger. Two guards Lucas hadn¡¯t seen snuck up on him from behind and grabbed him by his arms. ¡°Let me go! Let me go!¡± They dragged him toward the elevator and pressed a button. Just as the door started closing, he repeated one more time, ¡°I fucking hate you.¡± The CEO placed a burly hand on his mother¡¯s shoulder and softly muttered. ¡°We¡¯ll take care of those terrorists. Don¡¯t worry. Your son will come around eventually.¡± The doors slammed closed. *** Mark Afronte waited in the middle of a forest, clad in heavy metal armor. His arms were crossed as he casually leaned against a tree, his arms fiddling with a locket holding a picture of his family inside. His phone suddenly started ringing. He snapped the locket shut and put it back into his storage ring. He pulled the phone out of his pocket. It was Keagan. The time had come. He took his helmet off and put the phone to his ear. The voice of that man, the weakling softened by decades of business rather than fighting, the impotent fool who had no value other than as a puppet for Basilisk, came through. ¡°We¡¯ve pulled all our people out. Remember, all you have to do is take care of the primary target. We¡¯ll take care of everything else.¡± Chapter 155 - Bluff Freddy sprinted through the hallway, asking anyone he came across whether they spotted Lucas. His peers had no idea where he was. His trainers had no clue where he¡¯d gone. And perhaps most frighteningly of all¡­ He wasn¡¯t the only person missing. ¡°Lucas?¡± the woman asked. ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t know. I¡¯m looking for my husband. Just a few hours ago, he¡­¡± ¡°Shit!¡± Freddy shouted, pulling his phone out again to call Thor for the fifth time. The man didn¡¯t answer again. ¡°What the fuck is going on?¡± He looked back at the woman. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. Just go back to your apartment. Something is happening, and it might be dangerous.¡± ¡°Dangerous?¡± The woman reflexively grasped for her necklace. ¡°But my husband¡­!¡± ¡°We¡¯ll take care of it. Now, please, go back.¡± He walked past her, and reached for his phone again. He only had Thor¡¯s number. But if he could just find Travis, he¡¯d¡ª Suddenly, his phone rang. It was Thor. A muddy blend of anxiety and relief flushed through him as he rushed to answer the call. ¡°Hello?¡± ¡°Hey¡­ Freddy¡­¡± Thor said calmly. He then chuckled. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± ¡°What the hell is happening?¡± ¡°Look. I can¡¯t really talk for long, so I¡¯m going to need you to listen to me, okay? Don¡¯t come. I know you¡¯ll be tempted to, but don¡¯t. Please.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t come where!?¡± ¡°Just don''t!¡± Thor shouted through the phone. He released a shivering breath. ¡°If the worst comes to pass, I leave things in your hands. I trust you. You¡¯ll figure something out.¡± ¡°Can you please just tell me what¡¯s¡ª¡± ¡°Goodbye, Freddy.¡± He ended the call. Freddy gripped the thick phone hard enough to crack the metal casing. His hand shook as a look of betrayed confusion lingered on his face. Don¡¯t come where? Figure what out? ¡°Thor¡­ What the hell is happening?¡± He stood there in a dazed silence, sweat pouring over him. And then, a few moments later¡ª The ground beneath him trembled slightly, and an instant later, a muffled sound of lightning cracked right outside the building. ¡°Don¡¯t come¡­?¡± Freddy laughed. ¡°I see.¡± He put the phone away into his storage ring. And then, without a moment of pause, broke into a sprint. *** Thor put his phone away into his storage ring and sighed. He stood clad in full armor, posed right outside the gates of Valhalla like a guardian dog. His cursed axe hung gripped in his left hand. The day was cloudy. A relatively warm gust of wind blew over the city of Repentawa. The brief yearly flash of summer was almost afoot. The snow was thin and muddy. The trees were sweating slush, and far into the distance, he could even hear the familiar crack of lightning. ¡°Might rain today, huh?¡± he mused, briefly looking up at the sky before finally gazing upon his enemy. A man clad in very expensive-looking armor stood menacingly not too far ahead. The visitor did nothing to conceal his sinister aura. It was oppressive and dense. Far too dense for the man¡¯s rank. He had heard of the tales before. Of the exceptionally rare, unfathomably lucky individuals who had gotten their hands on a unique prime vestige and attained a second talent. While it was hard to encapsulate this shocking sting of the man¡¯s presence in mere words, that was the only explanation Thor had for what he was feeling. A disappointed numbness coursed through Thor¡¯s body as he resigned himself. This day was bound to come eventually. The man lazily swung his sword over his shoulder and cocked his head. ¡°I take it you¡¯re Thor?¡± ¡°Yup. The one and only,¡± he said. ¡°And who might you be?¡± ¡°I¡¯m just some guy,¡± the man said dismissively. ¡°It won¡¯t matter to you soon enough.¡± Thor chuckled. ¡°Can you at least tell me who sent you, then?¡± ¡°You should be able to guess.¡± Thor nodded. ¡°As expected, then. Well. Unless you¡¯re here to have a debate, I think we should get started.¡± The man chuckled. ¡°What¡¯s the rush? That eager to die?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll admit it¡ªI¡¯m not your match in a direct fight.¡± Thor gripped his axe tightly, raising it into a guard. ¡°But I¡¯m more than enough to humble you.¡± The two men stood facing each other, their aura¡¯s electric, the tension between them explosive. All it took was a minor twitch. They leaped at each other. Dust and mud flew into the air as they swung their weapons at each other, both noticing the disparity in their speed¡ªthe man was faster than Thor, and as their weapons met with a thundering blast, nothing but his countless years of fighting experience had allowed Thor to intercept the incoming attack, and it was a spark of electricity coursing through the man¡¯s weapon and finally into his armor, weakened as it was, that managed to paralyze him just long enough for Thor to duck the swing that would have taken his head off, but with supernatural speed, the sword was already flying right back at his neck, and this time, it left a shallow cut on his skin. Thor pushed himself back with one leg, but his enemy immediately pressed the attack, aiming to thrust the massive sword right through his chest, an aura of momentum enveloping it, its blade shimmering and buzzing with intense vibrations. Thor supercharged his whole body with electricity, and as soon as the sword touched his armor, a spark jumped, leaving a heated line along the metallic sword and burning the man¡¯s hand¡ªbut it wasn¡¯t enough. The assailant pushed through the pain and landed a strike, denting Thor¡¯s armor and even sinking the sword an inch into his chest, but with a weave of his torso and a blitz counterattack, Thor made some space between them. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. He breathed heavily. The pooling sweat was being collected by the bodysuit beneath his armor, but for the lack of a better way to put it, he felt sweaty as shit. An unwitting smile crept up on his face. ¡°What¡¯s someone like you doing in the Northern Belt?¡± He swallowed his spit. ¡°Even though you aren¡¯t at the peak of the third star yet, you could easily leave for greener pastures. What gives?¡± ¡°Call it a practice run,¡± the man said curtly, raising his sword and lining the point up with Thor¡¯s eyes. ¡°I see.¡± He chortled. ¡°People really do treat this land like some sort of perverted playground.¡± His lips curled in disgust. ¡°I see. I¡¯m not going to beat around the bush. I have a¡ª¡± ¡°Thor!¡± a deep voice shouted from behind the walls. ¡°No! Stay back!¡± Thor shouted in anger as he watched a bulky man leap over the wall. Freddy landed with a deep thud, his feet sinking slightly into the earth. He raised his chin and stared at the intruder. ¡°Just one guy? And what, you¡¯re already resigning yourself to death!?¡± ¡°You fucking moron!¡± Thor shouted with a quivering voice. ¡°I¡¯m begging you, don¡¯t get involved.¡± ¡°Do you have that little faith in me?¡± Freddy asked as he cast Crimson Dragon Scales with both stars, instantly sinking 50% of his essence into his defense. ¡°Even if I can¡¯t do much, I promise I won¡¯t get in your way.¡± ¡°You have no idea what you¡¯re up against,¡± Thor said. ¡°Please. Just go back.¡± Freddy froze at those words. The attacker laughed. ¡°Charming display, you two.¡± Freddy flinched at the man¡¯s voice. It sounded familiar. ¡°Who are you?¡± he spat. ¡°Have we met before?¡± The man turned to look at him. ¡°You must be Slave.¡± He eyed Freddy for a long moment, cupping the helmet where his chin would be. As his eyes peered through the slits in his helmet and met Freddy¡¯s gaze, the man paused for a long moment. ¡°You¡­¡± He stared at Freddy from top to bottom. Then he chuckled, shaking his head. ¡°Nope. I have no clue who you are.¡± ¡°Is that so¡­?¡± Freddy squinted at the man. ¡°Why are you here?¡± ¡°That¡¯s enough chatting.¡± The man suddenly burst forward, rushing straight towards Thor. Freddy conjured a Blood Javelin and threw it at the man, activating Hydraulic Flex with both stars. The man side-stepped the attack with frightening ease as he brought a calamitous swing down on Thor, who retaliated with a powerful burst of lightning directed at the man. Freddy waited for the right moment and threw a second Blood Javelin, but this time, even though his aim was true, the javelin swerved mid-air, coiling around the man as he grabbed hold of it. ¡°Wha¡ª¡± Before Freddy could even express his shock, the man threw his weapon back at him. The javelin traveled so quickly he had no hope of reacting to it. It sank right into his stomach, effortlessly breaking through his scales and embedding itself in his torso, just barely sparing his spine. He looked down at it, suddenly feeling paralyzed. That had been too effortless. Too fast. Thunder and metal echoed loudly before. him; sparks, electric and of blades meeting flew all around as the two men engaged in mortal combat, practically completely ignoring Freddy¡¯s existence. ¡°Seriously¡­?¡± he muttered. Was he actually this outmatched? This wasn¡¯t just some random nobody. This was a true three-star. Even Thor, for all his might and speed, looked like he was struggling for his life with every blow they exchanged. And while Thor could barely even defend himself from a single blow, the man could easily attack twice. Thor took a deep cut across his thigh. Then another on his hip. His face. His neck. The duel wasn¡¯t even close, and it was progressing so rapidly that Freddy barely had the time to react. Freddy¡¯s ears buzzed uncomfortably as the realization sank in. Was Thor¡­ He pulled the javelin out through his back and dropped it to the ground. He bent forward, his left hand conjuring the fragile ball of blood metal. Then, he charged. Neither of the men turned to face him, but he could see Thor visibly tense. ¡°Distract him!¡± Freddy shouted as he conjured his forearm shields, raising them to protect his head. ¡°God fucking damn it!¡± Thor yelled as he obliged, activating a lightning spell with all three stars and taking a deep cut across his stomach in return. Electricity coiled like a snake, and the man prepared to leap back to make some space. With both stars activated, Freddy used Hydraulic Flex, leaping to cut the man¡¯s retreat off. The man called the bluff and charged right at him, raising his sword to cut him apart. Freddy didn¡¯t defend or flee. He couldn¡¯t. With what little time he had to act, he activated Tsunami Strike with both stars, smashing his fist into the ball of blood metal. A loud explosion burst through the entire clearing, a flash of light blinded him as the ball dissolved into a shower of fragments aimed straight at the charging man. Although the man still managed to deflect a good number of shrapnel flying at him, the shards were too numerous and fast to completely deflect. They clattered against his armor, evidently exhausting whatever enchantment was boosting the man¡¯s defense. But Freddy wasn¡¯t done yet. ¡°Leviathan¡¯s Fu¡ª¡± The man instantly reacted, reaching for a flying chunk of blood metal, and Freddy raised his forearm shield to block it, but the piece swerved through the air, looping around his block and aiming straight for his mouth. He had to say it to cast it. But as the piece of blood metal cut into his tongue and flew deeper into his throat, he could manage the last syllable. No. All he saw was a brief flash of metallic light. Then he lost all feeling in his limbs. As he watched his dismembered arm float out of the way, the man¡¯s foot was revealed, sinking right into Freddy¡¯s torso, crushing his scales, ribs, lungs, and heart, and sending him flying away. Huh? He saw a flash of lightning. Thor used the opening, swinging his axe to leave a deep gash across the attacker¡¯s back, breaking through the armor¡¯s defense and damaging the enchantment. For a brief moment, Freddy thought it would be enough. But the man retaliated without pause, swinging his sword around¡­ and cleaving Thor¡¯s left arm off from the forearm down. The moment passed, and Freddy was sent flying away. His body slammed into a thick tree at such speed and with such force that he snapped the trunk like a twig, but he also felt most bones in his body crack, and nearly every blood vessel burst as he bounced off, skittering across the slushy soil and leaving a long trail of metallic blood. The world spun before his eyes, and in that moment, nothing even felt real. It was like he was floating through a dizzying mess of flickering colors. And then he landed, his face half-buried in wet sand. All he heard were muffled blasts. He couldn¡¯t see straight. He couldn¡¯t breathe. Blood¡­ shed¡­ He couldn¡¯t release it. His Blood Ring was still on his severed arm. I need to heal. But his storage ring was also lost. With all the willpower he could muster, he forced his head to move. Thankfully, his neck was only cracked and not broken. He lifted himself on his head, arching his torso, using Hydraulic Flex to help him move. He could barely inch forward. He folded his whole body, trying to move like some sort of fucked-up caterpillar. Where his legs were severed, his exposed bones scraped through the wet soil and snow. *** Thor stood, holding his axe with one hand as his opponent struggled to hide the damage he¡¯d taken. Thor grinned. ¡°Got you good, didn¡¯t I?¡± ¡°Your friend died for this.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t you worry about my pal. He¡¯s a tough one.¡± Thor coughed and spat blood. ¡°I was going to tell you this before we were rudely interrupted, but I guess this is as good a time as any. Back the fuck off. I have a spirit ability that will trade my life for temporary power. If I use it, we both die.¡± ¡°Then go ahead. Use it.¡± The man raised his sword, openly laughing at him. ¡°How many people do you think say that kind of thing? Even those who actually do have such a spirit ability often lose before they use it. And even if you do, it doesn¡¯t guarantee you¡¯ll actually kill me. Here, two can play that game¡ªI have a spirit ability that will teleport me away. So go ahead.¡± He leaned forward. ¡°Call my bluff.¡± Thor chuckled. ¡°Well fuck me, then. I should have played poker more often. ¡°Last Resort.¡± Suddenly, his whole body started steaming, an irresistible aura radiating off him. The snow in a ten-meter radius around him instantly evaporated into steam. A wild, raging web of electric sparks slowly spread out around him, forming a The attacker took a step back. ¡°You crazy motherfucker. You actually did it. ¡°But you¡¯re right. ¡°You should have played poker more often.¡± Thor¡¯s eyes flashed wide open. ¡°Instant Retreat.¡± The man disappeared with a puff of air. THE END IS UPON US. THE CALAMITY HAS ARRIVED. (I stubbed today) THE ADVENT OF APOCALYPSE HAS ARRIVED. GO TO THEM NOTES TO FIND OUT MORE. OoooOoOOOoOoOoOo . Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Chapter 156 - Corpse of Justice A few miles away from Valhalla, in the middle of the desolate woods, a loud puff of air echoed between the trees as a buck-naked man with black, web-shaped burns all across his body appeared out of nowhere. Mark collapsed to the ground, groaning and shouting as he felt his essence progress erode and his soul twist itself into a temporary seal. He desperately gritted his teeth, but the pain was too much. He released a muffled shout, turning red in the face. After a few more moments, it finally stopped, and he limply fell into the muddy, cold slush. ¡°That was close¡­¡± The large gash across his back ached something wicked. He hadn¡¯t come here expecting to look death in the eye. That man, Thor, was a true fighter. Had he moved on to the empire proper, there was a solid chance he would have qualified for Lordship. But that wouldn¡¯t come to pass. Any self-respecting person of power had a means of escape readily available for situations like this. Mark¡¯s was a spirit power called Instant Retreat. It cost him 20% of his essence progress to use, and it came with several nasty side effects. Everything he¡¯d been carrying on his person had vanished into the void. Thankfully, he hadn¡¯t had much of particular value on him, but it was still a harsh price to pay, leaving him without a weapon or armor. And the second, even more nasty side effect was that his soul would be sealed for a few days, disallowing the use of his abilities. Thankfully, he could at least utilize his talents, but he was still a sitting duck if someone were to come after him. Spirit abilities that allowed one to retreat like this were highly punishing¡ªas if the world itself only reluctantly allowed their existence. If someone were to track him down, he¡¯d be in real danger. Slowly, he brought himself up to his feet, wincing as he felt the cut across his back open up. ¡°I¡¯m lucky that it didn¡¯t nick my spine.¡± His work in this shitty city was done. It was time to leave. *** Thor stood in a storm of energy, watching the snow melt and the muddy soil dry up around him. His eyes were locked on this spot his enemy had been standing in just a second ago. And now he was gone. ¡°No¡­¡± he muttered, collapsing to his knees. ¡°No¡­¡± The woods before him suddenly felt dreadfully peaceful. He heard a strange sound just above him. Glacially, with his hands shaking, he pulled his helmet off and looked up. One after another, drops of rain touched upon the ebbing storm of aura and flash-evaporated with dull puffs. Gradually, as the effect of his sacrifice whittled away into nothingness, they reached his face, dripping down the sides of his cheek and flowing across his neck, stopping as they reached his body suit. A disappointed flash of lightning cracked behind the clouds, too ashamed to directly look upon him. He heard another strange sound and looked to his side. ¡°What the hell¡­?¡± He saw Freddy, his limbs severed, crawling forward like a caterpillar from hell. Thor couldn¡¯t restrain a shocked laugh. ¡°This guy¡­ Seriously¡­¡± Freddy reached his left arm. Then, he bit into it and stuck it onto his shoulder. With a metallic clang, his blood solidified into hooked spikes that helped him attach it back to his body. Freddy focused on his storage ring, and a fleshy blob fell out. He smashed his forehead into it repeatedly until his arm was finally fused with his body. One by one, he reattached his limbs, and then, with the tissue still fraying and bleeding, he propped himself back to his feet and hobbled in Thor¡¯s direction. Thor scoffed. ¡°This guy¡­ Why couldn¡¯t he¡­¡± His lips suddenly curled into a disgusted frown. Some of the energy was still raging inside him. But it was reaching its end. He heard a crack. A part of the skin on his cheek, which was already as dry as bone, had fallen apart and detached. It fell on his armor and stuck to it like a badge of disgrace. ¡°Thor?¡± Freddy called, his voice raspy and weak, likely as his lungs were still partially collapsed. Thor flinched, blinking deeply and slowly before turning to face Freddy. He saw the man standing with a look of utter horror and confusion. His clothes were in tatters. His chest was still caved in. His limbs were barely attached. But his eyes held a pain unlike that of someone hurt in body. ¡°Hey there, Fred.¡± Thor tried to swallow, but there was no saliva left. ¡°I¡­¡± His whole body rattled. ¡°I¡­¡± He shook profusely. The urge overwhelmed him, but his tear ducts were dried up. The rain wept for him. ¡°I¡­ I hate myself, Freddy. I¡­ I¡¯ve achieved nothing.¡± He looked Freddy dead in the eye. ¡°This time¡­ please listen to me¡­ and run.¡± He forced a smile on his face. It cracked his lips apart. ¡°I know you¡­ well enough¡­ to know you probably won¡¯t listen to me.¡± Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. Freddy laughed, but his expression twisted achingly, his eyes misting over. ¡°Come here,¡± Thor said. Freddy hobbled over, collapsing to his knees before Thor. Thor raised his left arm, holding his hand out as if wanting to clasp arms with Freddy. Freddy obliged him. Thor grabbed his hand, his grasp weak and withering, and his body betrayed him. He fell forward, and Freddy caught him with his body. Freddy could feel the man¡¯s skin against his bare chest. It was like burnt tree bark. ¡°You¡­ should give up¡­ There is¡­ no point¡­ to this¡­ Just. Leave. Heal your friend. And be happy. ¡°Don¡¯t be like me. Don¡¯t die by the corpse of justice.¡± The man went still. Freddy slowly pushed the man¡¯s body away, lowering it to the ground. He reached for the man¡¯s face to close his eyes. But it was like his eyelids weren¡¯t even there. The tips of his fingers brushed over glassy eyes. He flinched, pulling his arm back. ¡°Thor?¡± a voice came from behind him. Freddy turned around, finding Travis standing there. Travis sprinted forward, pushing Freddy aside as he lunged. ¡°Thor!? Thor!?¡± He breathed heavily as he touched the man¡¯s cracked face with a shivering hand. ¡°Oh, Thor¡­ You used it¡­ Why did you use it?¡± ¡°Travis¡­¡± Freddy called. ¡°Why did he use it!?¡± the man shouted, sobbing and shaking. ¡°Who came!? Oh, god¡­ He told me to stay away. Why did I listen¡­?¡± ¡°You should prepare the others to evacuate.¡± ¡°And where the hell are you going!?¡± Travis spat as he jumped to his feet and grabbed Freddy by what little was left by his shirt. ¡°Huh!? You were here! Why didn¡¯t you do anything!?¡± He limply punched him in his chest. ¡°Why the hell¡­ In his last moments¡­ ¡°Why were you to one by his side?¡± Freddy pushed Travis away, and the man stumbled. He scowled at him. ¡°I didn¡¯t come here to watch the man die, you fucking asshole. Now go. If they¡¯ve sent someone like that, the rest will no doubt come to finish the job soon.¡± He turned around and started walking towards the road. ¡°And what about you? Are you running away?¡± Freddy froze. Then he chuckled, wiping at his nose with his left arm. He slowly turned around. ¡°I¡¯ll give it all away,¡± he declared, his eyes empty of all emotion. ¡°Until there¡¯s nothing left. As I should have, a long time ago.¡± He slowly walked towards the road. As soon as he stepped on it, he pulled out his motorcycle and mounted it. Before long, he was in his apartment. There, he picked up the stash of items he needed. It was all packed into a large cloth bag. But as soon as he grabbed hold of it, he felt all his strength vanish. He tumbled to his knees and caught himself on his elbows. He felt his own words echoing in his mind. Leviathan¡¯s Fu¡ª Leviathan¡¯s Fu¡ª Leviathan¡¯s¡ª He vomited on the floor. He spotted shards of blood metal in the puke. The acid burned the cuts in his throat. He took a moment to calm his breathing and then got back to his feet. He grabbed the bag. And he headed outside. The rain had started pouring. Lightning crackled all across the sky, coiling angrily. It all washed over him. The people on the way looked at him strangely. And there were very few delvers around the interspace. He knew where they were likely headed. ¡°I have to hurry.¡± He made his way into the interspace. The path forward was seared into his mind. His steps brought him to the caverns filled with poisonous smoke and sharp, thorny plants. He plowed through it all, and before he knew it, he was grabbing hold of the metallic barrier that he¡¯d haphazardly strewn over his destination. The pitch void of the entrance to the dungeon made him hesitate for a brief moment. Just. Leave. Heal your friend. And be happy. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯m so sorry,¡± he muttered, feeling the tears dripping down the side of his face. And without further ado, he stepped right into the Century of Solitude. *** Travis shouted his commands, telling everyone to grab hold of only the bare necessities and to get ready. Many people still held faith they¡¯d manage to run away in time. But that was a naive belief. For nearly an hour, he ran around like a chicken without its head. And then, finally, he had managed to gather everyone in the largest hall in the central building. His palms sweaty and his stomach churning, he slowly walked up to the stage and grabbed the voice amplifier. The looks of everyone in the crowd were like needles poking into his heart. He swallowed. ¡°I¡¯m going to be honest with you. We are basically just waiting for the other factions to come.¡± Gasps spread through the crowd, with many even screaming in panic. ¡°If any of you want to try and run¡­ well¡­ it¡¯s better if you don¡¯t. ¡°For the non-combatants, you will likely be safe. The adjudicator will certainly step in to ensure that no unnecessary bloodshed takes place here today.¡± He hesitated. ¡°But that doesn¡¯t mean we¡¯ll be treated mercifully. As for the fighters¡­ We¡¯ll be imprisoned.¡± Shouts of anger and indignation echoed through the whole hall. ¡°What the hell is wrong with you!?¡± ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we at least put up a fight?¡± ¡°Are we going down like cowards!?¡± Travis grasped the voice amplifier. ¡°Please remain quiet. If you run, you¡¯ll be killed. If you fight, you¡¯ll be killed, and your family might be harmed as well.¡± His voice shrunk. ¡°Without Thor, we have no way to fight back.¡± ¡°What about Freddy?¡± Someone¡¯s voice reached him. Travis paused. His breathing sped up, and his hand started shaking. ¡°What about him?¡± ¡°Can¡¯t he step up?¡± Travis cracked an ugly smile. ¡°You want a peak two-star to fight off a whole damn army by himself?¡± The crowd quieted. Travis clicked his tongue and pinched his brow. ¡°Look. I don¡¯t want to get anyone¡¯s hopes up. He wasn¡¯t exactly clear with his plans. But I believe he might have something up his sleeve.¡± A visible wave of joy rose through the crowd. ¡°Do not get your hopes up!¡± Travis shouted. ¡°Best case scenario, he¡¯ll just¡­ I don¡¯t even know what he could possibly do. But at any rate, the worst thing we could do right now is panic. Just remain calm. Maybe we can make some sort of deal.¡± ¡°What about Valhalla, then? What about our pride?¡± ¡°That¡¯s all dead. Dead and buried. Forget about it. As of today, Valhalla is done for.¡± He put the amplifier away and stepped off the stage. As soon as he did, he was mobbed by an angry crowd of people. On all sides, arms and voices reached for him, but all he felt was numbness, and all he heard was a high-pitched buzzing in his ear. Freddy¡­ You¡­ Please. Do something. Chapter 157 - Beware the Reflection (part 1) Nothingness had no defining properties. It was void of all characteristics, a mere cessation of all that exists. It wasn¡¯t empty space. It wasn¡¯t darkness. It just¡­ wasn¡¯t. In every realm in the interspace, there was a border where reality suddenly cut off into nothingness. And while nothing itself had no properties, the edge of reality did. First, it was infinitely hard. There was no way to ¡°break nothing.¡± Second¡ªit was infinitely reflective. Things couldn¡¯t go nowhere. Thus, they simply bounced right back. Everything¡ªmatter, force, ether, essence, light, information, it all mirrored right back without any losses, without any inefficiency. As Freddy walked into the pitch darkness of the portal, he appeared in the center of a small, cubic realm. Its six sides were about 10 times his height in length and width. The room was wholly empty, other than the cold, even frigid air. The torch helmet on his head was still glowing. And in the moment he appeared, he witnessed something truly breathtaking. While the space he was in was limited, it was effectively a room of perfect mirrors. The light bounced off the walls and created the illusion of an infinitely vast space with an uncountable number of differently-rotated copies of himself standing still in the middle of an eternal void, holding the large, heavy bag with all the resources he would need during his stay. The illusion grew dimmer with distance, given that his body absorbed a little more of the light with every reflection, making it turn darker and darker towards the edges until it finally became too dim for him to perceive. He gasped at the sight. The sound of his gasp echoed through the room, creating a flickering, almost buzzing noise that gradually dissipated into a dull drone. It was at that moment that he remembered a third property of the edge of reality. Given that it was a border with nothing¡ªit had absolutely no friction whatsoever. As soon as he made the slightest of movements, this property was displayed in spectacular fashion. His feet lost all support as if he were standing on the world¡¯s most slippery sheet of ice, and he fell on his ass, the massive bag smashing into itself, both sliding forward slightly as he tried to stabilize, but to no avail. He kept slowly gliding forward, coming closer and closer to the edge of the room. The sound of his fall yet again echoed through the room, and with the noise having nowhere to go, it appeared to almost accumulate, adding to the already existing drone. It was almost starting to hurt his ears. He thought he had considered everything. From food to water to air to the fact that this room would slowly heat up as time passed. At this point, he was hoping that he wasn¡¯t forgetting something that might actually kill him. He groaned as he lifted a finger. His blood started pouring freely from the tip of his index finger. As it slid across nothing, it spread into a perfectly circular pool with uncanny efficiency, rapidly filling the whole room with a shallow pool of Freddy¡¯s blood. The appearance of the liquid had a dampening effect on the noise, and the background hum finally started to weaken a bit. As soon as there was enough to touch all four sides, he sent a pulse of his essence through it to harden it. Given that his clothes were in contact with the blood, they were now stuck in the hardened sheet, and he had to cut them off. It was an action he wasn¡¯t particularly fond of, given how blisteringly cold it was. The square sheet of blood was firmly wedged against all four sides of the room; it felt perfectly stable even though it was standing on nothing. With his clothes torn, Freddy got up to his feet and took a deep breath. He put the bag holding his supplies down beside him. With the appearance of a solid floor, the reflection had now been reduced to only the sides, with an infinitely vast sheet of crimson above and below, suddenly making the space feel somewhat cramped. Freddy sighed. ¡°Fuck, it¡¯s so cold!¡± He rubbed his shoulders and shivered a bit. He was already used to low temperatures, but this room was really something. He spat on the ground, and the spit made a tinkling sound when it touched the metallic floor. It had frozen before even touching the ground! Before keeping the room cold, it seemed he¡¯d have to warm it up first. He started running in circles around the room while going through the mental checklist of chores. But first, he examined the space he found himself in. Although it was definitely in the smallest category of realm, the space didn¡¯t feel cramped in the slightest. As far as A-class realms were concerned, this was on the upper end for sure. He had 400 square meters of space, and because it was all completely empty, he could make whatever he wanted of it. His first order of business was to organize all his infrastructure. This meant setting up the air purifier, the heat control, the waste disposal, and to set up the low-level ether generators he got his hands on. Ether generators could produce wisps of ether. They drastically ranged in quality, and the more useful ones were way beyond his means. Their primary purpose was to fuel gathering chambers. He needed them so he could restore his essence reserves. That being said, the ones he got were¡­ underwhelming, to say the least. He only found three defective water-affinity generators for sale, and even those were overpriced as hell. They needed tzenekite to operate, and these ones clearly used impure, unrefined tzenekite ore to fuel them. As a result, they were super slow. It took them all around ten minutes to produce just a single wisp. That meant he only had one wisp every 3 minutes on average. He sighed at the thought. He would have to organize his training to prioritize expensive abilities first, then abilities that could be covered by his satellite, then physical exercise once he was too full of reflux essence to continue. Next up on his list of chores was to organize his space. Namely, he needed one area for ability training, another for physical training, and a third for a neutral living space. He was no fool. A century would, in one way or another, drive him insane. He was already aware of that. The best he could hope for was to minimize the damage. While he could rely on his talent to keep his brain from outright breaking, he needed something to keep him from losing himself. With that in mind, he had brought a massive collection of books; he had bought a headset for listening to music and a crystal with thousands of songs inscribed on it, a BC with hundreds of movies and series stored on a drive, and a number of colorful decorations which he would use to create a comfortable living space. And finally, his schedule. He made made the decision not to track the time as it passed. At all. His reasoning was that he felt that tracking the time would do nothing but hurt him. It was better not to know. Hell, it might even make the time feel like it was passing faster. Rather than listen to a clock, he would listen to his body. He¡¯d sleep however long he slept; he¡¯d train until he was tired. He¡¯d entertain himself until he was bored of it. He¡¯d brought enough cheap food pills to last him half a millennium even if he went overboard, so he wasn¡¯t afraid of accidentally running out of resources. This would be an extreme marathon. Any small thing he could do to minimize stress would go a long way. His plan was to spend the whole time occupied with something, either training, playing, or sleeping. The less time he had to ponder the weight of the time he would spend there, the better. It took him quite a while to finally bring the room to a tolerable temperature. He had no idea how long, of course. He wasn¡¯t keeping track. As soon as he was done with that, he got started with his work. First the infrastructure. He designated one specific corner for all the fragile stuff and promptly shielded it with a relatively thick barrier of blood metal, leaving just a tiny opening for the cold, fresh air to flow. This was also where his generators were. Preferably, he would stay as far away from this corner as possible. If he broke anything inside, he would be lucky if it wasn¡¯t a death sentence. The next corner he designated for ability testing. For the time being, he couldn¡¯t do much about this one. He would eventually shield it with a thick wall, but that wasn¡¯t going to happen immediately. He didn¡¯t exactly have infinite blood reserves available. He would also make the floor slightly thicker here. But that wasn¡¯t exactly a priority. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. Next up was the physical training area. He couldn¡¯t exactly fit gym equipment into the small storage rings he bought in bulk, so he would need to rely on his blood to make all the equipment from scratch. As for the weights, he¡¯d rely on the same trick he used for Sanguine Beheader to increase the density. As for the complexity of the equipment, he¡¯d have to settle for free weights. But that was more than enough to work his whole body. He had 100 years to train here. He would see solid progress no matter what. He made some quick plans on where he would put what and then left the work for later. And last, but absolutely not least, he got started on the sleeping area. He didn¡¯t want it to be too big so that it wouldn¡¯t occupy more space than was necessary, but he wanted it to be comfortably spacious. He settled for a five-by-five-meter area. And then, he got started. Picking up the biggest storage box he brought, he started pulling out all of the stuff he would need. First, he pulled out the wooden floorboards and several buckets of adhesive. He got to work, putting together the floor of his new home. Then, he made a metallic frame with his blood and finished the walls and ceiling with large sheets of plywood. It didn¡¯t need to be too sturdy. Even though it would have to last a century, it wouldn¡¯t be subjected to the elements. But in case anything broke down, he made sure to bring extra material to fix it up. The storage box also contained the bed frame, which he promptly put together, and also the sheets and mattress. He put up a bunch of posters, paintings, a small drawer, and a couple of shelves, all scattered with a number of colorful decorations. He mounted the BC facing the bed and organized the rest of the small things he would be using during his stay in this place. And then, as the final touch, he pulled out the ether lamps. He dished out a crap ton of money for these. They were specifically designed to create a rich, full-bodied light that closely mimicked the composition of warm sunlight. The moment he lit them up, he noticed the difference between them and the lamp he was carrying on his head. All the colorful decorations instantly appeared to come to life, as if he¡¯d turned up the saturation inside his living space. It was a comforting sight. There was just one thing left to do. Right in the middle of the room, he erected a massive pole, using up the rest of his blood reserves to conjure it. And on the top, he placed a head-sized orb. With a flick of his finger, the orb lit up. This one was more mid-day than the sunset sunlight of the living room, but that was exactly what he wanted. It reflected off the bare mirror ceiling, scattering evenly throughout the whole space. Suddenly, it all looked much less oppressive. It felt like he could breathe. With that out of the way, he headed for his bedroom. Suddenly, he spotted something out of the corner of his eye and instantly turned his head to face it, feeling his heartbeat speed up and fight or flight instinct go off. As soon as he realized what it was, he groaned and sighed in relief. It was just his reflection in the mirror wall. For a moment there, he thought he spotted a shadowy figure walk right by him and enter his bedroom. But luckily, it was just his mind playing tricks on him. Still, he approached the entrance with some caution. The room had no door. He only had thick hanging curtains to block the outside orb¡¯s light so he could sleep in peace. With some trepidation, he pushed them aside and took a peek. His room was empty. There was nothing there. Although he was glad that it was just his imagination, he wasn¡¯t exactly happy to already be seeing shit right from the start. But it had been a rough day, to say the least. It wasn¡¯t surprising he was still on edge. He used his water manipulation skills to wash himself and then promptly slid into his bed buck naked. Raising his hand, he activated the Blood Ring to release Bloodshed. ¡°Greetings, Master,¡± it said, bowing to him. ¡°Hey there, buddy,¡± he returned the greeting. ¡°You know the drill. We¡¯re gonna be here for a long time. You¡¯ll be my only company.¡± He smiled ruefully, offering Bloodshed a fistbump. ¡°I¡¯ll be relying on you not to lose my mind.¡± Bloodshed simply remained standing there, just a second longer than was comfortable. ¡°Indeed.¡± It reciprocated the fistbump. ¡°I look forward to it.¡± Freddy''s smile weakened slightly. ¡°Right. Anyway. The dungeon is empty, so there is no danger here, but I¡¯d definitely feel more comfortable with you watching over me while I slept. Good night, Bloodshed,¡± he said as he pulled the blanket over his shoulder. After another long moment of silence, Bloodshed answered. ¡°Good night, Freddy.¡± Freddy could feel his heartbeat speed up slightly. He thought he had gotten rather comfortable with Bloodshed. But for some reason, it felt a whole lot creepier again. Something about this place generally didn¡¯t vibe with him. At first, the constant drone annoyed him, but with every new object he introduced, the noise was absorbed faster. And now¡­ it was quiet. Way too quiet. Quiet to the point he felt an ache. The blood flowing through his body and his own breathing were the two loudest and the two only noises he heard other than the occasional rustling of his sheets. Even though it was still quite cold, he found himself sweating. Thoughts of what happened rushed through his mind. Thor had died. It was all still so fresh in his mind. So unbelievable. As if it would all vanish when he took a closer look, like an illusion caught in the corner of his eye. The century before him gave him a certain sense of perverted comfort. He could take his time. Or even indefinitely postpone processing what happened. Perhaps by the time he returned from this place, the wound would have thoroughly scabbed over, leaving the man¡¯s existence as nothing but a faint, distant memory. But now. At that moment, as he lay in his bed covered in cold sweat and afraid, so deeply afraid of the solitude ahead, the wound was all too recent¡ªall too painful¡ªall too real. And it was all his fault. Tears streaked down the side of his face as he found himself sobbing uncontrollably. While he couldn¡¯t know exactly what would have happened, a mask, a helmet¡ªsomething, anything to keep his mouth protected would have allowed him to cast Leviathan¡¯s Fury. It could have changed things. It could have helped. And the fact that it was something so small, so easy to fix had he been wiser, hurt him more than anything. A sudden headache crept into his skull, piercing deep and hard, burning a hole right where he could do the least to ignore it. ¡°Oh¡­ god¡­ Thor¡­ I¡¯m so sorry. I¡¯m so sorry¡­¡± And as his grief vaned, a deep, simmering anger rose in its stead. ¡°I¡¯ll find that bastard. I promise.¡± His eyes shone with a mad light. ¡°He¡¯ll pay for what he did.¡± For a while, he kept trying to force himself to fall asleep. But why should he force anything? It wasn¡¯t like he was short on time. So he just¡­ let it go. He let himself stay in the bed. Awake, asleep, he didn¡¯t care. He took his time. It was a numbness. A dissociation. With his head upon a brand new pillow, he floated, detaching himself from the crushing pressure of his circumstances. Sleep took its sweet time to arrive. But it eventually crept up on him, and before he knew it, he woke up, naked, sweaty, and alone. He lunged out of bed, breathing heavily as the blanket slid off his massive muscles. He put his hand to his head and took a deep breath. He had no idea why he woke up in such a panic. It had been a dreamless, almost death-like sleep. Getting out of bed, he got dressed and had some breakfast. Given how hungry he felt, he could tell that it had to have already been days since he entered. Choosing not to think about it too much, he swallowed five of the cheap food pills and washed them down with some water. They were bitter as hell. He shook his head and pushed the curtains aside, leaving the room. The large orb shone brightly above, almost giving the impression of sunlight for a brief moment. Obviously, it was no star, and it was surrounded by no azure skies scattered with fluffy clouds, but it still tickled some part of his monkey brain. Shiny orb above? It was sun-like enough to at least create the illusion of ¡°outside.¡± ¡°Well then. Time to get started with construction.¡± The first thing he got going was the workout area. He made a bench, a large rack, and a hanging bar he could use for pull-ups. Everything was extra reinforced to ensure it lasted as long as humanly possible and to make sure it wouldn¡¯t break under the types of loads he would put them under. All he needed then was a single, ridiculously thick and long barbell. And a shit ton of massive weights. The squat, overhead press, bench press, deadlift, and weighted pull-ups¡ªthese compound exercises were by far the most important ones to hit. As for isolating the smaller muscles, he¡¯d figure it out. He also had the Sanguine Beheader, which he could use to train specific movements. Before he could finish everything, he ran out of blood. He ate some food pills and worked on Water Body and Lake of Blood while waiting for his blood reserves to replenish. This would be his life for a while. He didn¡¯t have much blood, and he replenished it rather slowly, so he was constantly short on material. But it wasn¡¯t like he was in a rush to get everything ready. He could take all the time in the world. For the first few days, he focused on constructing everything he would need. Well, he called them days for the sake of simplicity, but he was pretty confident that he was awake for more than a whole day at a time, and he couldn¡¯t even begin to estimate how long he slept. He took things steady, indulging in the ability to move at whatever pace he pleased. While dread lingered at the back of his mind, he had to be honest; he didn¡¯t exactly hate the alone time. He couldn¡¯t even recount how many times he¡¯d wished that the world would simply stop for a while so he could just exist in peace. Now that he finally had this wish granted, he didn¡¯t want to waste the opportunity. He had brought a massive pile of books. It didn¡¯t quite look like it could last a century, but looks were deceiving. The thing about archhumans was that many of them used storage rings to carry things around. And even the most expensive storage rings weren¡¯t particularly generous with the space they provided. Thus, every bit of space inside mattered. This drastically affected the way products for archhumans were produced. Many things came in cubic shapes to stack nicely without wasting space. And other things were compressed to the extreme. Books were one of these things. The pages of most of the books he bought were extremely thin. And the print was fine. Dense. Mortals would find the tiny words challenging to read. Some might even find it impossible. Freddy pulled a particularly thick book out of the storage box and gave it a once-over. It was pretty heavy in his hand. That was no surprise, either. This was no ordinary book. This was actually a 27-part fantasy series, nearly three million words long. With this context, the mass of books in the storage box suddenly appeared as if it would be challenging to finish within a mere century of reading. But while he had plenty of books, he wasn¡¯t so wealthy in regards to other content. Sure, he had thousands of songs to listen to, but he¡¯d hear them all eventually, many times over, even. And the BC content was even less plentiful. The books he could read all he wanted. But the other two he saved for when the mood was right. Before long, he had everything he needed set up. And one day, he woke up, finally ready to get started with his training in earnest. His greatest priority was Ten Thousand Wet Hells. Chapter 157 - Beware the Reflection (part 2) His greatest priority was Ten Thousand Wet Hells. The other abilities he believed he could push at least close to stage 3. But with Ten Thousand Wet Hells, he wasn¡¯t so confident. His usual method for pushing it required slaughtering vast numbers of monsters and abusing an absolutely overpowered spirit ability. Without it, making any progress whatsoever wasn¡¯t guaranteed. Very quickly, a massive pain point became agonizingly obvious. The ether generators were awfully slow. It was only now that Freddy was beginning to realize why rich gathering areas were so essential for most people. Although he usually didn¡¯t think much of it, he was gaining a new appreciation for his cute little scythe. It seemed like a minor thing compared to all the other broken bullshit he casually abused, but it was a truly top-tier soul construct. It made both recovering his essence and purging his body of reflux essence a lot faster. Just this soul construct alone could completely change any ordinary archhuman¡¯s future prospects. And for him, it was a total lifesaver. Day in and day out, Freddy worked on growing himself. While he was still seeing some growth regarding his physique, it was gradually grinding to a halt. He always strived to do a little better than last time, so he either added a tiny bit of extra weight or another additional rep. That bit of extra weight kept getting tinier. And tinier. At some point, the ¡°weights¡± were reduced to rings that could just barely wrap around the barbell. But even then, he didn¡¯t give up on looking for ways to improve. He worked on his technique and mind-muscle connection. He looked for innovative ways to isolate neglected muscles. And when there was no more work to find there, he worked on getting better at swinging his weapons. To grow the abilities that created his weapons, he needed to use them in combat. And there was but one opponent he had available¡ªBloodshed. While the little skeleton could become more powerful than himself when summoned through Blood Sacrifice, it couldn¡¯t compare to him in its base spirit form. However, that didn¡¯t mean it couldn¡¯t help him grow his abilities. The key part of growing an ability was making it matter. The easiest way to do this was to use them to get out of danger. But without danger, he needed to get better at using them. And without risk, he had the luxury of focusing on just one ability at a time. All he had to do was cut as many other things out of the equation as possible. For example, when he worked on his Crimson Wing Shield, he only created one. And then. He didn¡¯t move from the spot where he stood. Without using any other abilities or even his other arm, he defended from as many of Bloodshed¡¯s attacks as possible. To escalate, Bloodshed attacked him from the back, and then from increasingly bizarre and difficult to defend from angles. He used similarly restrictive methods to work on his other weapons. As for his other abilities, the methods to move the needle varied. For his Tsunami Strike, he employed the straightforward method of simply slamming the barrier of nothing as hard as he could. As long as he got the timing perfectly, it would improve the ability a little bit. On top of that, he could work on refining strikes from different angles. Naturally, given that he was striking the edge of reality, the backlash was extreme. But, if anything, that made the progress faster. Hydraulic Flex was similarly easy. He just had to push his body to its limits, swinging from odd angles and perfecting the timing to keep things going. For Hydraulic Throw and Accelerate Blood Projectile, it wasn¡¯t so simple. He naturally had to throw things, but the challenge had to be apt for it to matter. At first, he would throw chunks of metal into the air and hit them with something else. Then he did it from further away. Then he made both items smaller. Then he bounced his shots off the edge of reality to increase the challenge. But hitting such shots, deliberately at that, was easier said than done. Days kept marching. He could feel that he was staying up longer every time he woke up. How long, it was hard to tell. He thought it would be easy enough to estimate, but he wasn¡¯t exactly confident about his guesses. Was he up for 40 hours at a time? 60? More? And as for how long he slept, he didn¡¯t even have a vague estimate anymore. There was pretty much nothing to go off. At first, he enjoyed the solitude to an extent, but it was getting tiring. Bloodshed was also acting strange. It was too quiet and absent. And he felt like it was observing him a little too intensely. Reading books was fun, but it was becoming tiring as his focus wandered. He found himself increasingly obsessed with drama; anything that had people and personal relations was welcome. He craved humanity more than ever before. By god, he even started becoming obsessed with romance of all things. Even the extremely girly stuff with all the tropes he used to despise was welcome. He kept the music for special occasions at first, but soon enough, he found himself constantly listening to it, especially while working out. Anything to drown the maddening silence. It took a surprisingly short time to hear all the thousands of songs on there. And before long, he could even recite all of them from start to finish. Every time he started a movie or a series, it took all the willpower he could muster not to start binging. This was slowly becoming the one thing he actually looked forward to. He had to keep some for when the going got really tough. While he was short on exact estimates, he could definitely tell that more time was passing than he was aware of. The samey days were all blending together, vanishing in each others¡¯ folds and fusing to the point where he couldn¡¯t tell whether something happened two or fifty days ago. His beard and hair were getting ridiculously long. The colorful posters in his room were beginning to fade a bit, the color no longer so vibrant. There was brown dust everywhere from the particles of dried blood he kept kicking up during his practice. He put aside days to clean things. Before he even blinked, the dust was back, thicker than before. His training was becoming tiring. When he was making steady progress, it was easy to motivate himself, but with every new bottleneck, he felt his patience thinning and fraying. One by one, he reached the limit of the easy ones, those that required nothing but stubborn repetition. He needed a spirit to upgrade them, and he had none, so they were stuck for good. All his abilities had reached stage 2 a long time ago. Well, almost all of them. Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. He used the concept of ¡°cleansing¡± for Purifying Crimson Spring, the concept of ¡°potency¡± for his Water Body tempering technique, anti-gravity for Blood Javelin, which could now float in the air for a while when conjured, and Accelerate Blood Projectile got ¡°speed.¡± Knuckle Blade got ¡°impact¡± so it could more easily punch through defense. It created an effect similar to the Crimson Wing Shield¡¯s blocking function, just in the other direction. The function only worked once¡ªtwice if double-starred. Dissipate wave got ¡°dissipation¡± for stage 1 and ¡°nullification¡± for stage 2, with ¡°refund¡± being left for the stage 3 spirit upgrade. Crimson Wing Shield got ¡°shielding¡± for stage 2, which made it so that every time when he blocked an attack with the ¡°blocking¡± function, blood essence would spread all over the surface of his body, momentarily shielding him. This made the blocking effect a lot more useful, especially against big caster attacks that would spread out, explode, or wash over him. Crimson Dragon scales was upgraded with ¡°impermeability,¡± drastically enhancing its ability to prevent essence from invading his body. Create Water got ¡°volume.¡± Hydraulic Throw got ¡°tension,¡± allowing him to ¡°charge up¡± a throw before releasing it. And finally, the two stubborn fucking pieces of shit¡ªPerished Water and Ghosts of the Drowned. No matter how hard he tried, they wouldn¡¯t move them past stage 0¡ª50%. They just wouldn¡¯t budge. Did they need living targets? He didn¡¯t know. Whatever the secret was, he was positively infuriated to be was stuck on this. He had brought a number of miscellaneous vestiges he could potentially use for these two, as soon as they decided to start moving forward. This was supposed to be one of the big things he would figure out during his Century of Solitude. If he spent a hundred years trying shit only to fail to figure it out, he might just go completely insane. Every so often, he¡¯d write down his progress, just to see how he was moving over time. And on one day, he sat down and cracked the book open. He scanned the latest page and then started moving back. No progress since last time. Or the time before that. Or the time before that. Or the time before that. Or the time before that. Or the time before that. He turned a page a bit more aggressively. No progress that time, either. Or the time before that. Or the time before that. Or the time before that. Or the time before that. Or the time before that. Endless pages of nearly identical writing. And not a single percent of difference. He took a deep breath and grabbed hold of the pencil to write his latest entry. GATHERING: Second star¡ª199% essence capacity 2-star satellite TALENT: 1% Lifesteal: Dynamic-quality healing SOUL CONSTRUCT: Scythe: Essence Extraction TEMPERING TECHNIQUES: Blood affinity: Lake of Blood: Stage 2¡ª99% Progress (Ready to Upgrade) Crimson Mercury: Stage 2¡ª99% Progress (Ready to Upgrade) Purifying Crimson Spring: Stage 2¡ª99% Progress (Ready to Upgrade) Water affinity: Adaptive Water Body: Stage 1¡ªComplete Ten Thousand Wet Hells: Stage 2¡ª46% Progress Abyssal Depths: Stage 2¡ª99% Progress (Ready to Upgrade) Water Body: Stage 2¡ª99% Progress (Ready to Upgrade) ACTIVE ABILITIES: Blood affinity: Gore Knuckles: Stage 2¡ª61% Progress Blood Javelin: Stage 2¡ª30% Progress Absorb Blood: Stage 2¡ª13% Progress Accelerate Blood Projectile: Stage 2¡ª40% Progress Sanguine Beheader: Stage 2¡ª70% Progress Knuckle Blade: Stage 2¡ª56% Progress Crimson Wing Shield: Stage 2¡ª14% Progress Dissipate Wave: Stage 2¡ª90% Progress Crimson Dragon Scales: Stage 2¡ª1% Progress Water affinity: Tsunami Strike: Stage 2¡ª99% Progress (Ready to Upgrade) Hydraulic Flex: Stage 2¡ª99% Progress (Ready to Upgrade) Create Water: Stage 2¡ª99% Progress (Ready to Upgrade) Hydraulic Throw: Stage 2¡ª54% Progress Perished water affinity: Perished Water: Stage 0¡ª50% Progress Ghosts of the Drowned: Stage 0¡ª50% Progress He breathed out a frustrated sigh. As expected, there was no difference. Why was he even bothering to write it all down anymore? It wasn¡¯t like there was any change. Still, just for the sake of the habit, he started writing the rest of it down, if anything, just to ensure that it all looked clean and consistent. SPIRIT ABILITIES: Blood Sacrifice You failed him He blinked. ¡°Huh?¡± SPIRIT ABILITIES: Blood Sacrifice Leviathan¡¯s Fury For a long moment, he had imagined that he¡¯d written something very different down. He released a shaky breath and slowly closed the notebook. Whatever. He already knew what items he had. Nothing had changed about them in the slightest. A drop of sweat creased his brow and fell into his eye. He wiped his eye with his arm and put his notebook away. ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯m going to be writing anything down for a while.¡± That day, he knew damn well that he¡¯d stayed up far longer than usual. It was quite obvious, given he passed out in the middle of training, waking up sprawled on the ground beside the bench. He grabbed the bench to pull himself up. His movement almost made him look hungover. ¡°Maybe it''s time for a bit of a break.¡± He punched the spark of undeath for a while. Part because it felt good and part to vent some frustration. Then, he slowly moved over to his room and turned on the BC. Bloodshed got cozy on the bed beside him, and they just lay motionlessly, watching together. He decided to put on a series he had already finished and then binge it from start to end. It was a show about a man who became a detective to resolve the murder mystery behind his parents¡¯ death. Had some romance and a bit of comedy. This was Freddy¡¯s umpteenth time watching it. It was a comfort show for him. The episodes just kept going, and before long, he wrapped up the final episode. He sighed. ¡°I can¡¯t believe it''s already done.¡± Subconsciously, his hand reached for the remote. Should he play something new? Maybe rewatch another show? His arm slowly pulled back, and he fell into the sheets. Although he had brought plenty of sheets and took good care of them, they were well into their life cycle. Holes, general wear and tear, faded colors. He caressed them, feeling an uneasy comfort at the sight. ¡°It had to have been many years at this point.¡± He deflated, his mouth growing slack. ¡°I wonder how many I have left.¡± He rested his head on the pillow and then focused, projecting his soul into the Netherecho. There were a few wisps floating in the air around him. He ignored them, heading for the exit from his room. His soul projection pushed through the relatively thin barrier that was the cloth covering his room entrance. He turned to the side and walked a bit until he finally reached the edge of reality. While it looked like a mirror in the real world, in the Netherecho, it was a pure, white surface. Just¡­ white. Immaculate. His projection, the reaper wearing a blue hood, sat before the white void, and he hugged his little knees, raising his hooded head and just watching the shimmering nothingess. He developed a habit of doing this whenever he wanted to clear his mind. And he wanted to clear his mind very often. Looking down, he ran his little fingers across the brown floor. Then, he lay on his back and looked up. There were a few water wisps in the air, slowly flowing and shifting through the empty space, like water seeking a path through stone. Not all wisps were made equal. Within them, wisps contained a glimpse into a truth. These truths could be collected and extracted to aid one¡¯s comprehension of their element. The wisps born by a little patch of march and the wisps found at the bottom of a vast ocean didn¡¯t carry within them the same concepts. And both could hold the key to a crucial insight. Freddy had to admit that he had been a bit lazy in this regard. After all, it only really mattered for creating new abilities and then reforming them at stage 3¡ª50%. Well, it also grew one¡¯s latent aura. And it helped with breaking through bottlenecks. He winced uncomfortably. Was this why he felt so stuck with so many abilities? Because he had failed to spend enough time gathering? His career as an archhuman had been extremely turbulent, and it had all been going at a breakneck speed. He¡¯d done many things out of order, and even completely neglected others. No matter how powerful he was, he was keenly aware that his approach would hinder him later down the line. Well, no point in crying about it now. Regarding these insights, the wisps above him couldn¡¯t possibly be more useless. They were made in a generator, and they held no truth within other than that water was wet. And water wasn¡¯t even wet. It just made other things wet. He chuckled. There were other things he¡¯d messed up, too. His two spirit abilities were both lifesavers in their own right, but¡­ they also had an impact on his growth. Not so much his abilities, but his star? Oh yeah. He would suffer later down the line for that one. Despite his current mental state, he had to admit: there were times when he was really enjoying being here. At moments, he wished it could last forever. He was tired. Too tired to keep going. But he had to keep going. He had to get up. His projection rose. The day when he would return to all his problems would eventually come. And by then, he wanted to be ready. Chapter 157 - Beware the Reflection (part 3) The day when he would return to all his problems would eventually come. And by then, he wanted to be ready. After another night of rest, he got up, feeling surprisingly refreshed. Stepping outside, he walked up to his reflection wearing nothing but his birthday suit. His beard was already almost reaching his junk. His hair was draped over his ass. His skin was paler than bone. It hadn¡¯t seen actual sunlight in who knew how long. He had to move his wise hermit beard aside to get a better look at his abs. Like the rebirth of Narcissus himself, he could feel that he was falling in love with his reflection. He was the only human in this prison. Thank god he at least looked immaculate. Chuckling to himself, he went back to get dressed. He put his headset on and cranked up the volume. ¡°Let¡¯s fucking go!¡± He clapped his hands together as he rushed over to the training area. After a while of working on his abilties, he moved on to exercise. By that point, progress had already stopped altogether. But he was resolved to do better that day. Even if he could only lift a gram more, by god, he would add a gram and lift it. He loaded the barbell and got onto the bench press. He took a few breaths to prepare himself. He adjusted his headset. Thankfully, both the headset and the BC were of the highest quality and could probably last throughout his whole time here. But that didn¡¯t mean that he could be reckless with either of them. His finger tapped the crystal on the side. He swapped songs repeatedly, until one of his favorites finally came up. With a smile, he got ready for his set, the music blasting in his ears at full volume. Enemies (Enemies), Enemies (Enemies), Enemies (Enemies), You and I are enemies, Oh, you forgot? What a riot! Buddy, are you scared of me? Time has passed (the years are flyin¡¯), Oh, then I guess I¡¯m gonna leave, You¡¯re done with violence (done and free), You¡¯ve made your peace (you''ve grown and healed), But those screams (the ones I hear), They can¡¯t be silenced (can''t be free) No matter what I do, They still echo in my head And no matter what I do, They will echo ¡®till I¡¯m dead. Horror, terror, tremors, runnin¡¯, Streaks of blood and sweat and tears! Spittin¡¯, crying, screaming, I¡¯ve been, Dreaming of your face for years! All those sins that you''ve committed, You have left them in the past, Standing here, you''ve forgotten, Blood is dripping off your hands, But I haven¡¯t (but I haven¡¯t), But I won¡¯t (but I won¡¯t), Forgive yourself (you little shit) And I¡¯ll collect the debt I¡¯m owed. I don¡¯t care ¡®bout respect, I just wanna see ¡®em dead, I don''t care ¡®bout the law, I just want to see you dead, Shovel folded in my bag, I will aim it at your head, I got, Unspeakable hatred, Hell is waiting open wide. I¡¯m the gravedigger, bitch, And you can kiss your life goodbye. Just as the guitar solo started, Freddy pushed the barbell off the rack and got to lifting. He had no idea just how much weight he was lifting, but judging by the gigantic plates on both sides, and the way his tendons creaked beneath his skin, it was a lot. ¡°One¡­ Two¡­¡± He felt amazing that day, and he knew that his personal best was waiting just around the corner. The song continued, but this time, something about it was off. Beneath the calm waters, Deep underneath the sea, The beast is waiting dormant, Waiting for me to speak, My mouth is slammed closed, MY LIPS ARE WIDE EXPOSED, I¡¯M FEELING SO ALONE, I¡¯M BLEEDING OUT MY THROAT¡ª Freddy suddenly dropped the weight. It slammed him right in the midsection, and he lurched forward, his head flinging and sending the headset flying forward and skittering across the ground. A large bruise slowly spread out over his stomach, but he ignored it. Even that much weight was barely going to seriously injure him. No. His eyes were locked on the headset. He had heard that song uncountable times. Those weren¡¯t the correct lyrics. He pulled the weight up with Hydraulic Flex and racked it, then slowly got up and walked over to the headset. For a minute, he simply stood there, his heart beating out of his chest as he hesitated to reach for it. But eventually, he gathered the bravery and gingerly put it back on. He rewound. This time, the song sounded the same as he remembered it. ¡°What the fuck¡­?¡± he muttered to himself, scowling. ¡°Was I imagining it?¡± He hadn¡¯t exactly been focused on the music at that moment. And the original did at least sound similar to what he imagined he heard. ¡°Fuck,¡± he cursed as he took the headset off. Turning, he faced the edge of reality, gazing upon the reflection within. The motivation he¡¯d felt just a moment ago had vanished into smoke. The days kept passing. And that unease never quite left him. Bloodshed was as silent as usual. Waiting. Looking at him with those empty eye sockets with a mystifying expectation. ¡°What are you staring at?¡± he asked it. ¡°I apologize,¡± Bloodshed said. ¡°I was merely gazing upon your brillant image, Master.¡± ¡°Yeah¡­ well¡­ do that a little less. Just so you don¡¯t get tired of it.¡± More days passed. The unease grew. He was yet to listen to music again since that happened. While his motivation wasn¡¯t quite there, the urge to keep himself distracted was undeniable. He kept working on his abilities, trying new things, even if they were rather ridiculous. Accelerate Blood Projectile could be applied to any object made of his blood. But it only triggered once he stopped holding on to the object in question. Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. He came up with the idea of applying it to his sword and then, in the middle of a swing at an enemy, letting the sword go, causing it to suddenly and rapidly accelerate in the direction he¡¯d been swinging it. Of course, this would do far less damage than a full swing with the weight of his body behind it, but it could work wonders as a feint or a surprise attack. This trick could also be used to quickly swap the sword from one hand to another, both in front of him and even behind his back. He could also send the sword spinning around someone¡¯s guard. There were other applications, too, all of them requiring a lot of practice and a lot of patience. Especially with waiting for his essence to recover. It was a useful trick, but holy shit was it expensive. It was likely that he would never actually use it in a fight due to the immense cost, but it still counted. For the first time in what felt like forever, he witnessed abilities making progress. With the new gust of wind in his sails, he got more experimentative. One thing he¡¯d been trying to figure out forever already was how to use his Tsunami Strike on his Blood Javelin similar to how he used it with the orb. With the anti-gravity concept, his Blood Javelin could float in the air for around a minute. With this, he no longer had to account for gravity when aiming the weapon. With the two concepts he¡¯d used so far and with the help of Accelerate Blood Projectile and Hydraulic Throw, it was hard to even estimate how far he could throw the javelin. In fact, he even anticipated breaking the sound barrier when all the relevant abilities were upgraded to stage 3. That was no joke. But why wait until then? He theorized he could already get pretty damn close if he smashed the back end of the javelin with a Tsunami Strike. The main problem with this was that the force was just too much. No matter how lightly he tried applying his touch, at least half the spear was always blown to pieces, while the other half was sent flying in a not-so-aerodynamic spin. He¡¯d tried everything, basically, but there was just no way to make this work. And then he had an idea. If it wanted to spin, he¡¯d let it spin. Standing in the middle of the ability-testing chamber, Freddy conjured Blood Javelin and let it float in the air. Then, he gently pressed his finger not against the butt of the spear, but to the side, almost at the edge. Then, he triggered a double-starred Tsunami Strike, just lightly tapping the edge to transfer the force. The edge of the spear, right where he was touching, exploded into dust, and the rest of the spear spun, creating an absolutely horrifying high-pitched sound as it flew toward the edge of reality. As soon as it touched its reflection, it blew up into an uncountable number of pieces of shrapnel, bouncing all around the room. Freddy¡¯s skin was left pocked with a few new holes, and as he finally dropped his guard, he was left with a mad grin on his face. While that move wouldn¡¯t cut someone in half like he was in some sort of cartoon, it would definitely hurt to get hit by. And the concepts behind Blood Javelin appeared to agree that this could be useful. Because the ability finally made some progress. One by one, he discovered new, niche ways to utilize his abilities. Most would be useless in battle, but that didn¡¯t matter. The key part was that he was discovering new ways to utilize his abilities. And this made them grow, finally breaking through stubborn bottlenecks. He could hit his forearm shields to trigger the shielding function himself, which could be useful for blocking attacks from behind. He could apply Accelerate Blood Projectile to his Crimson Dragon Scales, which made him move ever so slightly faster if he leaped or jumped off the ground. While holding a Blood Javelin, it made him resist gravity just a little bit. If he conjured two, the effect became slightly more noticeable. If he used Dissipate Wave in the middle of hitting a Tsunami Strike, it drastically reduced the power of the ability. This seemed completely useless, but it had a massive effect, instantly pushing it 5% in progress. He wondered why this even grew the ability at all, but he realized that it could be used to trick someone into thinking his Tsunami Strike was far weaker than it actually was. This was a pretty damn useful application. His Hydraulic Throw could be used as an improvised Hydraulic Thrust. It was awkward and unwieldy, but it had its uses. It was precise and swift, so he could use it in tandem with Knuckle Blade to strike a weakness. Once he became more creative with them, he found a whole slew of new ways to employ his abilities. And to help his creativity along, he also read a large number of books on the topic of blood and water abilities. Yet again, his days felt like they were a bit easier to push through. But with time, the creeping arrival of bottlenecks was upon him yet again, and he started stalling once more. This time, however, he was more at peace with it. He knew that, with time, he¡¯d find his way through them. He had more faith in himself. But then, something bizarre started happening. ¡°Good night, Bloodshed,¡± Freddy said as always, turning around as he hugged his heavily degraded pillow. ¡°Good night, Master.¡± As he was beyond exhausted, as he usually was when it was time to go to bed, it didn¡¯t take him long to fall asleep. And then, seemingly instantly, he woke up again. But he couldn¡¯t speak. He couldn¡¯t move. What¡­? Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted something. A shadow loomed above him as he slept. His whole body broke into a sweat, and he desperately tried to break away from whatever was binding him. The shadowy figure watched, reaching a hand forward, and when it was about to touch his neck¡ª Freddy woke up screaming and thrashing. He looked around, spotting no figure, only seeing Bloodshed, who curiously stared back at him. He groaned, breathing heavily, trying to calm himself down. He slumped into the bed, burying his face in his hands. ¡°Sleep paralysis. Oh, fuck my ass. Can that even happen to an archhuman?¡± he wondered. That was the first time he¡¯d had that happen to him. Dreamless sleep was the default for him for the most part. Although he keenly felt that he hadn¡¯t been asleep for long, going back to sleep was out of the question. He got up, starting another day of training. For a while, no such thing happened again. And then it did. He was locked in the bed, facing the ceiling. The shadowy figure loomed above him yet again. It reached for his throat. He couldn¡¯t react. A primal, uncontrollable fear washed over his whole body, but he was paralyzed, unable to do anything to defend himself. The hand reached his throat. Its touch was cold. Too cold. The grip was tight. He could feel the blood flow to his brain cut off, and soon enough, his mind began to shut down. What¡­ the hell¡­!? And then he woke up, yet again leaping out of the bed. He stood there, awake yet frozen yet again. That had hurt. That had felt real. Taking a deep breath, he calmed himself. He¡¯d heard of sleep paralysis. That was just how it was, wasn¡¯t it? It felt like it was a hundred percent real. But it was the pain¡ªthe pain and the frigid cold¡ªthat had caught him off guard. He lightly slapped himself on his cheek. ¡°Calm down.¡± It sucked having to suddenly deal with something like this, especially when he was already so strained mentally. But he at least knew it wasn¡¯t real. He couldn¡¯t let it get to him. He forced himself to lay back down and return to sleep. And then, he had a regular night. Nothing out of the ordinary happened. And this continued for a long, long while. At some point, he had pretty much completely forgotten about it. He was back to listening to music, too. Yet again, he had broken through the bottlenecks holding him back by learning even more bizarre, almost entirely useless ways to use his abilities. He had long parted with the idea of practicality. As long as it worked, it worked. Who was he to judge the abilities for how they wanted to be used? It was becoming increasingly apparent that his current status as a two-star was the main culprit for his limits. He already had a shit ton of extremely advanced abilities for a two-star. There was only so much his soul could tolerate. It had to adapt to allow for more power. And the more he pushed it, the slower that process became. Upgrading them wouldn¡¯t be an issue, thankfully. That part of the burden would be handled by the spirits. But reaching the point of being able to upgrade another ability was becoming more and more of an uncertain prospect. And yet again, this hurt his motivation to keep going. Honestly, he already believed he was powerful enough to defend Valhalla. The only reason he kept pushing was to have something to work towards. While he didn¡¯t necessarily regret not tracking the time, there were moments where he randomly had a thought that made him break into a cold sweat¡ªwhat if he still wasn¡¯t even done with half the time he had to spend here? What if it had only been something like twenty or thirty years? The thought of that was a waking nightmare. So he avoiding thinking about it as much as he could. As for his physical capabilities, he had long reached what he believed to be his absolute limit. Perhaps expensive treasures or even more insane experimental drugs could buy him a few more bits of strength, but as it was currently, exercise felt pretty pointless. But that wasn¡¯t to say that his body wasn¡¯t changing. In fact, he was slowly losing weight and thinning out his massive bulk. Nothing too drastic. He was listening to the weapons. Their shells. He was capable of more advanced stuff at a lower weight, while still keeping a surprisingly substantial portion of his physical strength. And drastically enhancing his speed. He also decided to try pushing it in the opposite direction, bulking way past his previous maximum. He became super immobile and started looking like a balloon animal at some point. His neck was so thick that his head looked like it was sinking into his body. While it was a fun experiment, he lost the weight again and returned to a reasonable size. There was, however, a point where he was definitely becoming too skinny. He could feel it in the way his sword responded to it. He didn¡¯t have as much of a hold over it as he¡¯d like. And after a lot of testing, he discovered what he believed to be the perfect size. It was on the day he realized that that it all kind of came crashing down. The rewards for his work were becoming too pitiful. He was basically only working on Ten Thousand Wet Hells at that point, which could inch forward through sheer brute force. Everything else had stalled to a screeching halt. Sighing, he threw the Sanguine Beheader on the ground and turned to face the edge of reality. He slowly approached it and put his hand gingerly on his reflection. It was always so bizarre to experience. The warmth, the sensation¡ªit was like he was touching someone else, a stranger who just happened to perfectly mirror him. It was almost comforting. He chuckled. ¡°Those really really really tough times I¡¯ve been fearing seem to have finally arrived.¡± Well then. It was time to finally crack open one of the better movies he¡¯d been keeping for this moment. With Bloodshed comfortably seated by his side, Freddy slumped into the bed and gently tapped the crystals on the remote. He scrolled through the library until he found something he¡¯d been wanting to watch for a long time. It was a thriller about a man chasing down a group of people who kidnapped his daughter. It starred his favorite actor, too. With a tap, the movie started, and he felt the tiniest sliver of his exhaustion abandon him. Until that point, Freddy had been prioritizing more lighthearted stuff, comedies, romance, light drama, anything that could stave off the feelings of loneliness. But it was good to watch something dark sometimes. Forcing cheer was tiring. As the movie got underway, Freddy found that he was quite enjoying himself. He had crumpled a food pill and was eating small chunks as a snack. It was no popcorn, but it sure as hell beat nothing. The man in the movie broke into a building only to discover that his daughter had been moved someplace else. It was a tragic scene, full of despair and hopelessness. Once he returned home, realizing he was back at square one, the man slowly got up and headed to his bathroom. But as he stepped inside, something bizarre happened. The screen started flickering. ¡°No¡­¡± Freddy gasped. ¡°Don¡¯t fucking tell me the BC is gonna break!¡± Just as he was about to get up and check to see what was happening, the man in the movie started acting strange. He slowly walked up to the mirror, and then just kind of stood there. There was no reflection in the mirror before him. Then, with a twisted crack, the man¡¯s neck snapped, and he turned to look directly into the camera. His eyes were hollow. Freddy froze in the spot, his body running with chills all across his body. His eyes stared directly into those empty eye sockets. The screen flickered more intensely. Another snap echoed through the room as the man¡¯s jaw cracked open, dripping with blood. He groaned in pain and whispered. ¡°Beware¡­ the reflection.¡± 1% LIFESTEAL IS OUT ON AMAZON!!!!!!!!!! YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH BOOOOOOOOIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Chapter 157 - Beware the Reflection (part 4) ¡°Beware¡­ the reflection.¡± The scene cut, and the man seated at the couch, weeping into his hands. The screen stopped flickering. For a long minute, Freddy just sat there, frozen in disbelief. ¡°Uh¡­? What?¡± He put a sweaty palm to his forehead. ¡°Bloodshed. Remind me to find this fucking director and feed him his own balls once I¡¯m out of here.¡± Bloodshed remained quiet. He glanced at it, and then, his eyes slowly moved to the remote resting beside him on the bed. With a shaky hand, he reached for it. Then, with a reluctant twist, he rewound the footage. The man walked into his apartment. Slowly, he moved to the bathroom. There was no flickering. Once the man stepped inside, he stood before the mirror, staring himself into the eyes with an expression of pure, distilled fury. Then he laughed darkly as if mocking the reflection in the mirror. ¡°Who even are you, you bastard?¡± He threw a punch, breaking the mirror into pieces. The movie continued with him breaking down on the living room couch. ¡°Bloodshed,¡± Freddy whispered. ¡°Did you see the same thing I did?¡± The skeleton remained quiet. ¡°Are you fucking deaf? Huh? I asked you a question!¡± He leaned forward. ¡°Did you see the same thing I did?¡± It refused to respond. ¡°You knew about this, didn¡¯t you?¡± he accused. ¡°You knew that there was more to this place than just solitude. Why didn¡¯t you tell me? Why!? Why, Bloodshed?¡± ¡°Master,¡± it said. ¡°During my time in this dungeon, I saw no such thing.¡± He wanted to accuse it of lying. But it couldn¡¯t lie. It was telling the truth. ¡°But you did notice that it was strange when I entered.¡± It slowly nodded. Freddy scoffed. ¡°Why the hell didn¡¯t you say something?¡± ¡°You never asked.¡± He slammed a fist into the bed frame. ¡°You should know damn well that this is important!¡± Bloodshed slowly turned to face him. ¡°Is it really?¡± It cocked its head. ¡°And what¡¯s wrong with going a little insane?¡± He winced, pulling away from it a bit. ¡°Bloodshed. While I enjoy the thought of you as my cute little pet skeleton, I am damn well aware of what you are.¡± He reached over, grabbing it by the top of its head. Like a doll, it surrendered itself to his grasp as he pulled it in and hugged it. ¡°But you don¡¯t need to do this. I have plenty of good reasons to give you exactly what you want. So please. Don¡¯t push me. Please.¡± The skeleton remained still for a few moments, and then nodded. ¡°I will do whatever you want, Master. Just say the word.¡± Freddy sighed, bringing the spirit back into its shell in his soul. He needed to be alone for a moment. The movie was still running in the background, so he turned the BC off. He was in no mood to keep watching. He chuckled. ¡°That was cheap,¡± he said. ¡°Could you have found a cheesier way to try to scare me? Please. You think I¡¯m some kind of pussy? Try harder.¡± He got off the bed and walked outside, heading over to train. In a sense, he felt a little relieved. For a long time, he had been convinced that he was slowly losing his mind. But now that he knew this was a part of the challenge, it was no longer so intimidating. His mind was still sound. He was going to make it out. For a long time, he single-mindedly dedicated his focus to growing Ten Thousand Wet Hells. It barely moved forward in progress, but he had plenty of time to keep working on it. Day after day after day after day. And then one day, finally, he finally updated his notebook. GATHERING: Second star¡ª199% essence capacity 2-star satellite TALENT: 1% Lifesteal: Dynamic-quality healing SOUL CONSTRUCT: Scythe: Essence Extraction TEMPERING TECHNIQUES: Blood affinity: Lake of Blood: Stage 2¡ª99% Progress (Ready to Upgrade) Crimson Mercury: Stage 2¡ª99% Progress (Ready to Upgrade) Purifying Crimson Spring: Stage 2¡ª99% Progress (Ready to Upgrade) Water affinity: Adaptive Water Body: Stage 1¡ªComplete Ten Thousand Wet Hells: Stage 2¡ª99% Progress (Ready to Upgrade) Abyssal Depths: Stage 2¡ª99% Progress (Ready to Upgrade) Water Body: Stage 2¡ª99% Progress (Ready to Upgrade) ACTIVE ABILITIES: Blood affinity: Gore Knuckles: Stage 2¡ª80% Progress Blood Javelin: Stage 2¡ª70% Progress Absorb Blood: Stage 2¡ª30% Progress Accelerate Blood Projectile: Stage 2¡ª64% Progress Sanguine Beheader: Stage 2¡ª95% Progress Knuckle Blade: Stage 2¡ª76% Progress Crimson Wing Shield: Stage 2¡ª71% Progress Dissipate Wave: Stage 2¡ª99% Progress Crimson Dragon Scales: Stage 2¡ª25% Progress Water affinity: Tsunami Strike: Stage 2¡ª99% Progress (Ready to Upgrade) Hydraulic Flex: Stage 2¡ª99% Progress (Ready to Upgrade) Create Water: Stage 2¡ª99% Progress (Ready to Upgrade) Hydraulic Throw: Stage 2¡ª80% Progress Perished water affinity: Perished Water: Stage 0¡ª50% Progress Ghosts of the Drowned: Stage 0¡ª50% Progress UNIQUE CURSED ITEMS: Warrior King¡¯s Pendant: Adds 8% damage and 8% durability to equipped weapons. Blood Ring: -9% essence cost, +8% power for blood-affinity abilities. Can be used to release Bloodshed. Attacks inflict moderate bleeding. Ocean Medallion: -13% essence cost for water-affinity abilities. And with that, all his tempering techniques had reached their full potential. He already knew that there would be a few abilities that wouldn¡¯t be able to get to the peak of stage 2. Namely, Absorb Blood and Crimson Dragon Scales. The first needed him to absorb different types of blood to keep moving, and the second would grow as he faced more diverse opponents. As for most of the others, he was confident he could get them to stage 2, given that he didn¡¯t run out of time. Just as he was about to get up, he felt something strange. It was a fulfilling sensation, overwhelming his chest with a warmth long forgotten. ¡°Huh?¡± he blurted as he took a look at his soul. His star. It was overflowing. At that moment, he could ascend to the third star. He nearly screamed from the joy. Had he upgraded any of his stage 2 abilities, he would have qualified a long time ago. In fact, with two spirit abilities and not a single stage 3 ability, it was a bloody miracle he had managed to qualify. That being said, he had no reason to go through with ascending yet. Doing so before upgrading his abilities would be beyond idiotic. The difference in achievement was indescribable. Yet again, he found himself excited to keep training. However, as hard as he worked to put on a hard front, that experience with the BC had really disturbed him. He worked hard not to let it get to him, but with the merciless march of time, he felt his defense crumbling. More and more often he thought he caught movement in the corner of his eye. There was nothing there. Bloodshed was also keeping watch, just in case, and it never spotted anything. He found himself avoiding the sight of his reflection in the edge of reality. And, at times, he found himself watching it, observing it for any signs of anything strange. As soon as he noticed this, he did everything in his power to fight against these impulses. Even if the reflection was some kind of spooky demon or whatever, what was it going to do? He asked the question rhetorically at first. But the sweatier his neck felt when his back was turned to the mirror, and the more unsettled he felt staring at his own reflection, the more he wasn¡¯t sure of the answer to that question. One night, he went to sleep. And again, that bizarre, shadowy figure appeared. He took a deep breath. Sleep paralysis. Again. It will be over soon, he told himself. Just ignore it. But something was different. He shifted in his sheets uncomfortably. Then, he froze. He wasn¡¯t paralyzed. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Immediately, he leaped out of the bed and conjured Sanguine Beheader, swinging it at the shadowy figure with all the strength he could muster. The sword tore through the intruder, splitting it in half and causing the shadow to dissipate. And then, Freddy woke up. Covered in sweat and breathing heavily, he pressed a shaky palm to his forehead. ¡°What the fucking hell was that?¡± he muttered. That didn¡¯t feel like a dream. Not in the slightest. From that night onward, the discomfort amplified drastically. He found himself covering the edge of reality with a sheet of blood, just to ensure he never caught sight of his own reflection. As hard as he tried to ignore it, there was this¡­ dread. Overwhelming. Omnipresent. Like a cold hand touching the back of his shoulder. The time he spent awake kept increasing. More and more often he woke up in a random spot, having fallen asleep on his feet from the exhaustion. And on the nights he actually went to bed, he simply lay there, eyes wide open, watching every shadow around him for movement. He no longer listened to music. He no longer read. He no longer turned on the BC. He simply couldn¡¯t focus on any of them. Something was clearly trying to get into his head. Whatever it was, he wouldn¡¯t give it the opportunity. And then, one day, as he had dreaded for so long, he fell asleep again, and once more, a shadowy figure waited for him. Unhesitantly, he leaped to his feet, pulling his weapon out and swinging it. But this time, the shadowy figure ducked under his blade, swinging a pitch-black sword at him in return. He weaved around it, twisting his sword mid-air to slice into the phantom¡¯s shoulder. And again, he woke up. But this time, he didn¡¯t leap to his feet. He merely remained there, frozen under his torn and worn blanket, surrounded by pale posters and dusty furniture. By the time he even felt like getting up, he was already tired enough to go to sleep again. The food pills were becoming increasingly bitter. They wouldn¡¯t go bad. Even after a hundred years, they would just taste very bad and be slightly less caloric. With every fiber of his being, he was praying that their rancid taste, one not even he could tolerate anymore, was a sign that his time there was nearing the end. After a particularly intense training session, he opened his notebook to write his progress down. He turned the page. And found something was already written there. KILL YOURSELF. He slammed the book shut and screamed, ¡°Leave me alone! Just fucking leave me alone!¡± He broke into tears. ¡°Please¡­ Just leave me alone.¡± Nobody answered. He could no longer even fall asleep. But the sheer exhaustion caught up with him again. And he yet again found himself facing the shadow. With a mad groan, he rushed it. It dodged his swing, kicking his midsection in turn. He was sent flying back, right into the shack he called home, but he quickly recovered. It rushed him. He conjured a Knuckle Blade and, with a swift strike, pierced its head. He woke up laughing maniacally, but his laughter soon turned into an undeniable urge to vomit. The whole world looked like it was spinning around him. Every shadow appeared to squirm at his gaze. Again and again, the shadow kept appearing in his dreams. Every time he defeated it, it returned stronger. Smarter. Eventually, he slipped up. And then he was the one to die. The sensation of being cut apart into pieces, just waiting for an opponent to finish him off¡ªhe wasn¡¯t a stranger to it. But he¡¯d made it out every time before. This time, he learned the price of failure. The hopelessness. The uncertainty of whether he would even wake up. The reality that one day, even if he left this wretched place, this was what his end would most likely look like. But he did indeed wake up. A strange calm washed over him, sobering him up. He spent a day beating the spark of undeath to heal up, to ensure that his brain wouldn¡¯t be wounded by the stress he was being put under. The next time he had that same dream, he was ready to fight. When he was composed, the shadow was an easy opponent. He regained his confidence. Even if he died in the dream, he would still wake up. If anything, he thought he could use this to his benefit. He had forgotten what it was like to fight an opponent other than Bloodshed. This would allow him to brush his skills up a bit. But every time he came out victorious, the next dream was more challenging. And with the unending, uncountable days, it was always just a matter of time until he reached his limit. He appeared in the dream and immediately cast a double-starred Crimson Dragon Scales. Within the time it took him to take a breath, he had all his gear on him: his shields, Gore Knuckles and Knuckle Blade, Sanguine Beheader, and the Blood Javelin. Unhesitnantly, he threw the Blood Javelin, double-starring all relevant abilities. The shadow raised a spear, and with all the force it could manage, it redirected the javelin, which tore a part of its stomach out but didn¡¯t kill it. Freddy conjured the orb of blood and prepared to strike it, but the shadow twisted its torso, throwing its spear and hitting the orb out of the way of Freddy¡¯s ability. Freddy used Dissipate Wave and conjured another Blood Javelin, but the phantom created another spear and dashed forward, aiming at his throat. He dodged, countering with his sword. The shadow sped out of the way, but Freddy released his grip on the sword. Imbued with Accelerate Blood Projectile, it sped up, slamming into the phantom¡¯s side and knocking it off its feet. With its balance gone, Freddy thrust his Gore Knuckles into the shadow¡¯s torso. Just before he reached, the spear flew right through his defense and stabbed him in the eye. ¡°Wha¡ª¡± Before he could turn this around, the shadow twisted the spear, scrambling his brain and ending the fight. He woke up. ¡°Ah, fuck. I was close, too.¡± He slumped. ¡°Well, whatever. At least it ended quickly.¡± Ever since he¡¯d started fighting the shadow, he had been getting inspiration for novel ways to use his abilities. With the awareness of what worked in a fight and what didn¡¯t, he could lock in on the parts that worked to get the most out of his practice. His abilities were still slowly making progress. But he was no longer writing it down. His life without entertainment felt hollow and miserable. But he took solace in the fact that it was likely that more time had passed than he could reasonably estimate. He was awake for long stretches and slept for an unknown period. His ¡°days¡± were almost certainly over half a week long. And that would mean that he only really had like a hundred days per year, for a total of ten thousand days. Admittedly, this outlook was a bit of a stretch. But he had to cling to anything that would allow him to keep his sanity. At any rate, he could bet his soul that he didn¡¯t have that much longer left. Training kept him occupied for the most part, but there were times when he deeply ached for any entertainment whatsoever. Occassionally, he returned to reading or music or watching the BC, but it just wasn¡¯t fun. He constantly worried that something strange would pop up, or that the dungeon would try to spook him again. It made him feel pathetic. But even if he avoided entertainment, he found himself playing with random objects. After finishing up with another round of training, he returned to his room and fell right into the bed. He had stopped bothering with cleaning himself a long time ago. He probably smelled like a landfill. He twirled what was left of his shirt, eyes wondering across the faded posters. He got lost in thought and started putting together small objects out of his blood, like a miniature sword or a carriage with functional wheels. But he got bored of that, too. Turning around, he spotted the label on his blanket. The text on it was faded almost to the point of unintelligibility. But with his enhanced eyesight, he could still read the text. GADLAND TEXTILES. HIGH-QUALITY BLANKET. 100% COTTON. YOU HAVE BEEN HERE FOR 48 YEARS, 5 MONTHS, AND 15 DAYS. He froze, slowly letting the label go. He heard nothing but static. His eyes remained frozen on a random spot on the wall. ¡°I¡¯m being lied to¡­¡± he muttered, but those words provided him no comfort. ¡°Hey¡­ This is a joke, right?¡± There was no answer. ¡°This is a joke¡­ This is a joke¡­¡± He started believing it. ¡°Right. This place is made to fuck with my head.¡± He sighed, slowly breathing out. ¡°Don¡¯t let it get to you. And so what? Even if it has been that long, who cares? I had already made it through almost half the time. Just another half to go. And then I¡¯m free.¡± For a while, his days were as they always were. And then one day, he woke up. The realm felt quieted than usual. His thoughts felt calmer than usual. He felt more free than usual. He even laughed, feeling genuinely joyful. ¡°Oh, man. Coming here was a stupid idea. But that¡¯s how I¡¯ve always been, no?¡± He started cackling. ¡°I¡¯m just a total fucking idiot. I ruin everything I touch. And what was I even gonna fix by doing this, huh? What, the world will have a couple fewer assholes? What a joke.¡± His steps took him to the exercise area, and he sat on the bench. Reminiscing on the time he¡¯d spent there. It was almost black at that point. There was an impression of his back on the bench, solidly embedded into the metal. He¡¯d achieved soo much during his time in this dungeon. It was a shame it would all go to waste. Without hesitation, he walked over to the corner containing all the essential equipment keeping him alive. If anything inside broke... Anything. Anything at all. He stood right before the metal barrier, breathing calmly. He cocked his fist back. He activated a double-starred Tsunami strike. It coursed through his body. And with a swing of his hand, he spotted his reflection in the mirror, the small patch of nothing he was yet to cover up. Dissipate Wave! he urged himself mentally, cancelling the ability just in time. His punch still landed, sending cracks across the blackened metal. He pulled his shaking fist back and looked at his reflection. For the first time in what felt like forever, he finally met face to face with his reflection. He smirked. Then he started chuckling. ¡°Oh, man. I get it.¡± He wagged his finger. ¡°I finally fucking get it. Beware the reflection.¡± He laughed vociferously. ¡°Oh my fucking¡­ It was never going to move in funny ways! There¡¯s no demon that¡¯s gonna crawl out of nothing! And yet, I just saw my reflection about to kill me!¡± he shouted, his amusement rapidly turning to anger. He took a deep breath and walked over to it. ¡°I get it. I¡¯m the only real danger here, aren''t I? As long as I keep myself in check, I win.¡± He grinned. ¡°Easy enough.¡± His fist flew right into the side of his head. And with a deep thump, he knocked himself out. The sleep was dreamless. He didn¡¯t know how long it took him to wake up. But once he did, he walked over to his bed. There, he beat the spark of undeath just to keep himself topped up. He ate a food pill to keep himself fed. And then he knocked himself out again. Over and over, he did everything he could to just avoid being awake. At times, he faced the phantom. And he fought it earnestly. Might as well. If he had no entertainment at hand, he might as well have fun fighting against an opponent. Again and again, he found himself in that fight. A thing he appreciated was that it was always slightly different. The shadow used different weapons. And at times, it became a caster, using ranged abilities against him. For the most part, he lost the fights. It was already so fast that even if he used Leviathan¡¯s Fury, it could get out of the way in time. He desperately swung his sword, but he only managed to partially block an attack that tore his side out, and then, before he could even react, a vibrating sword had pierced his throat. ¡°Leviathan¡¯s Fury,¡± he mouthed, and the phantom leapt, raising its sword to block the giant jaw. Well, it was a good try. The longer this went on, the more he experimented with the slightly more bizzare combinations of abilities. And at times, he found some decent inspiration, even choosing to stay awake a bit longer so he could check whether these insights would grow his abilities. Once more, he felt himself making progress, and this time, he had no more doubts. Solitude he couldn¡¯t bear. The creepy hallucinations were a bit much. But pure, unfiltered, escalating violence? In a sense, it was almost like he was right back outside. The phantom was always too much. But he always surprised himself. He always found a way to win, even when it became so fast and powerful that a single blow could tear him into pieces. The more resourceful he was forced to get, the more he discovered about his abilities. And the more he discovered about his abilities, the more they grew. One by one, he felt them locking in. Gore Knuckles: Stage 2¡ª99% Progress (Ready to Upgrade) And again. Blood Javelin: Stage 2¡ª99% Progress (Ready to Upgrade) And again. Accelerate Blood Projectile: Stage 2¡ª99% Progress (Ready to Upgrade) Sanguine Beheader: Stage 2¡ª99% Progress (Ready to Upgrade) Knuckle Blade: Stage 2¡ª99% Progress (Ready to Upgrade) Crimson Wing Shield: Stage 2¡ª99% Progress (Ready to Upgrade) Dissipate Wave: Stage 2¡ª99% Progress (Ready to Upgrade) Hydraulic Throw: Stage 2¡ª99% Progress (Ready to Upgrade) Other than Absorb Blood and Crimson Dragon Scales, which were impossible to grow in this limited space, everything else was absolutely maxxed out. Just as he was about to lament having nothing else to do for the rest of his time there, he saw something strange appear. A light shone right outside his small hut. Brighter than the sunlight lamp. Purer than even the edge of reality. He gulped, getting off the bed and pushing the barely-intact curtain aside. There was a portal. Right about the size of a regular door. Pearly white. ¡°The exit¡­¡± he said, completely numb. ¡°Hah. Has it really been 50 years already?¡± He grinned. ¡°So that was a goddamn lie. Mother¡ªfucker.¡± His reaction could wait. He had to leave. After quickly making sure he left nothing of importance behind, he walked up to the exit. There, he paused, slowly turning around. He had been here five times longer than outside. Technically, he was over 120 years old. But somehow, despite the excruciating wait, in hindsight, it really didn¡¯t feel like a lot of time. After all, not much had really happened. It was a lot of the same. He didn¡¯t feel like a different person. He certainly didn¡¯t feel as mature and grown as a real 120-year-old. The world had been waiting for him all this time. And he¡¯d been waiting to come back. A bit over an hour had passed outside. Problems were waiting to be resolved. But he knew. No matter who arrived, he was ready. With one final glance behind him, he stepped forward, walking through the portal. The blinding light enveloped him, and he briefly vanished into a white void. Then, he appeared outside in a¡ª ¡°Wait, what?¡± A meadow. Right beside a serene lake. With a picturesque forest around him. ¡°Huh?¡± He turned around. There was a small log cabin. Its doors were pushed slightly open. And an inviting smell was coming from inside. This release nearly ended my life Yeah boiii If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Chapter 158 - Insanity Serene lake. Picturesque forest. Cozy hut, with the smell of roasting meat wafting out through the slightly open door. Freddy turned around, failing to find the portal he had just stepped through. His heart was beating out of his chest. Sweat pooled all across his body. A deep, surging sickness gnawed at his guts, chewing him up from the inside. He forced himself to calm down, but he couldn¡¯t do it. The same thoughts spun in his mind on repeat: This isn¡¯t real. The dungeon isn¡¯t over. How much longer do I really have? Finally, his paralysis broke when he heard the gravely yet whiny voice of an older man echo from within the hut. ¡°Hehehe, don¡¯t be so scared. You¡¯re done. Now come inside to collect your reward.¡± Freddy was having none of it. He immediately leaped back, trying to put as much distance between himself and the house. And yet, he didn¡¯t fall into the lake as he expected. His foot landed on a solid, wooden floor. Every hair in his body raised at once as he blinked, and suddenly, his surroundings shifted to the inside of a cottage. He turned and spotted an older man with graying, messy hair and a full, unruly beard, dressed in lumberjack clothing and spit-roasting a hare in the fireplace. Freddy conjured his Crimson Wing Shield on both arms and raised his guard. But no attack came. He leaped back, preparing a kick to break through the door and leave, but the house suddenly spun around, and he found himself flying back towards the man. He conjured a javelin and threw it at the door, but the weapon just passed through the wood as if it weren¡¯t even there. He threw another at the man, and the same thing happened yet again. Finally, he rushed to form a messy blob of blood metal and punched it with a double-starred Tsunami Strike. It blew up into a mess of red fog and shrapnel, but it all appeared to simply vanish in the next moment. His hand wasn¡¯t even injured. In fact, his essence reserves were still completely full. He released an unwitting chuckle, raising his hands in surrender. ¡°Well. I guess that¡¯s that. What¡¯s next, then? You gonna kill me?¡± ¡°Hehehehe¡­!¡± The old man cackled unnervingly, still spinning the hare. ¡°I had tried. For a whole century, even! But you lived. And now, you are owed a reward. But first!¡± He raised a finger. ¡°We have to eat.¡± With a swift movement, he pulled the spit out of the fireplace and just slammed it down on the bare table. ¡°Come on, what are you waiting for? This a big-un! Fled me for months! Plenty for both of us.¡± ¡°I¡­ No thanks. I¡¯m not really hungry.¡± ¡°Hmph. Your loss,¡± he said as he took a large bite out of the hare¡¯s leg. ¡°Well then, Mr. Impatient. I guess we¡¯ll get started. Your first reward.¡± The man put the hare leg down on the table and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. His jovial mood vanished in an instant, and he dropped the unusual way of speaking. ¡°An unspeakable time ago, deep within the depths of the Vast Nothing, through the machinations of chance that took eternity, It appeared.¡± A flash of something passed through Freddy¡¯s mind, and an indescribable pain pierced through his soul. He fell over to the ground, breathing heavily and grasping his head as if his eye were about to explode. He found it impossible to hold back a scream of pure terror, and he couldn¡¯t stop screaming until the memory of whatever he¡¯d seen finally began fading as his mind failed to contain the information. Still, hints of it remained. He could feel it in the back of his mind. An awareness had appeared. An awareness of something defied by irrational limits and powers so vast they neared omnipotence. Within his body, mind, soul¡ªit had left behind a mark, one so profound he could feel his latent aura churning, shrieking in horror as it was forcefully twisted into shapes he couldn¡¯t understand. The man continued, ¡°The being unravelled everything. Its unfathomable mind, spanning all layers of reality and states of being, peeled away the truth so thoroughly that it forever changed the fundamental rules of existence. Everything came down to an incredibly simple principle¡ªthe interplay of chaos and order. But there was something more. A paradox. ¡°For when structure reached a certain level of complexity, it revealed a property even It couldn¡¯t understand. There was order. There was chaos. And then¡­ there was deliberation. Consciousness. A maddening law that sprung out of nothing. The ability to disobey. To flip between order and chaos as one pleased. To be. To choose. To play. ¡°In its vast wisdom, It was quick to accept the truth. This was the only thing that mattered. This was the only thing that, in its infinite mystery, made sense. So It killed itself. Its corpseblood still flows through all universes and their dimensions and all their layers, seeping into further and further reaches of infinity, desperately seeking more consciousness to serve.¡± The man slowly got off his chair and walked over to where Freddy was still writhing in agony. ¡°Allow me to introduce myself. I am part of this gift, one of the tools of It¡¯s servitude. I am the primordial concept of Insanity.¡± Freddy¡¯s mind flashed again. He saw a vast system of non-euclidean shapes, planets of tessellating gore, and loops of irrational, horrible decisions, all leading through the infinite paths seeking perch upon reason hidden in insanity. He gazed upon the essence of chaos in its interplay with order, and as soon as the image came, it vanished. His being roiled once again, but for some reason, he felt the agonizing headache suddenly disappear, as if a cup had appeared to hold the acid frying his mind. A bizarrely shaped cup. One that hid the liquid away so it would stop hurting him. One that jammed itself into a crack of its own making. One that would be with him henceforth; forever. He released a shivering breath and sprawled out on the floor, bathed in a pool of his own sweat. ¡°Now, then,¡± the lumberjack said playfully. ¡°Don¡¯t give up on me yet. We still have a lot to learn.¡± With a mad grin, he snapped his finger, and Freddy appeared floating within the vast void of space. Far in the distance, he spotted the sun, its ever-burning sphere of cosmic flame casting a phantom light upon him. He gasped, finding himself able to breathe, but as soon as he could take a breath, he turned around, and had it stolen from him yet again. The Earth. In all its glory, he beheld the Earth, but not New Earth as it was later; Old Earth, as it was before. It spun rapidly before him; days appeared to pass in mere seconds. He saw the continents in their old, unaltered form. North and South America, Africa, Australia, Antarctica, the Eurasian supercontinent and all the scattered islands. The clouds shifted subtly, gathering and separating, flashing with flickers of mesmerizing lightning within vast storms. When the night came, he witnessed the fingerprint of mankind¡ªtheir illuminated cities, spread so wide and far that they barely left anything untouched. Insanity was floating in the air beside him, observing the planet with a manic glee in its eye. ¡°Beautiful, wasn¡¯t it? So serene and purposeless, untouched and unbothered. Trapped within the vast, unstructured anarchy of yet another neverending universe. But then¡ª¡± It was subtle. Like the click of a lock hiding just beneath the surface, something shifted, and the Earth¡ªit changed. With immense speed, it transformed. Freddy already knew that New Earth was much bigger than Old Earth. But seeing the change with his own eyes drove home just how vast the difference truly was. Like a balloon, the planet inflated. Like the brown-touched foam floating on a cappuccino, the continents stirred. He watched the Northern Spine rise, clawing a scar through the North American continent. He saw the great eruptions of Antarctica as indescribably powerful volcanic activity melted its ice cap away, leaving it a scorching land of flame, thick clouds of ash and smoke hanging above it, lightning crackling through it with an intensity unlike that of ordinary clouds. The Great Arctic Cap spread its influence, rapidly consuming Scandinavia, Russia, and Canada, leaving the people there stranded deep within hostile territory. The Drake Bridge appeared, leaving a trail of volcanoes all the way from the smoldering continent of Antarctica to the tip of South America. A vast bridge of land consumed Jeju Island, connecting Korea, Japan, China, and Taiwan. Italy twisted and expanded through the mediterranean, connecting Europe and Africa. The Vast Pit of Columbia opened. The Eye of Europa formed¡ªa vast, circular wall that trapped all of Ireland, United Kingdom, Belgium and Netherlands, and cut deeply into Germany, France, and a bit of Denmark and Norway. Then, within those walls, the sea suddenly drained. The Saharan Spirals rose, the Pacific Continent formed, Australia split in two. So many geographical features changed that he could barely even keep up with them. Uncountable islands popped up, leaving barely any stretches of truly empty sea. And then finally, the changes stopped, leaving a much richer and far bigger planet behind. New Earth stood before him, almost the same as it was today. As he gazed upon it, he couldn¡¯t hold back the overwhelming feeling of grief. The people of Earth¡ªall of humanity. In the blink of an eye, their lives as they had known them had vanished. Their primary forms of communication. Self-defense. The very laws of reality itself. Anything and everything that had once made them feel safe¡ªgone. Taken away in an instant. He tried to imagine it. How would he feel if the opposite happened to him? If the touch of ether was taken away and New Earth suddenly reverted back to the way it used to be? If he were left without his supernatural powers? If he were suddenly weak, defenseless, and lost? It was unimaginable. Suddenly, they started flying away from New Earth. Freddy¡¯s stomach lurched, and he reflexively reached to grab a hold of something. First, they flew at the sun, until they were not so far from it. Once they got a good look at it, they started quickly moving away again. The sun kept getting smaller, and Freddy struggled to hold back the primal fear he felt at the sight of the star shrinking. Reluctantly, he turned to face the universe. They flew through a dense field of asteroids and then¡ª They flew¡­ through a veil. It was like a mist. Like the false skies of interspace realms. He felt his stomach drop once he witnessed his own reflection. ¡°What¡­?¡± he muttered absent-mindedly. ¡°The¡­¡± There was no universe outside the solar system. ¡°You surprised?¡± Insanity asked. ¡°Fun fact, almost none of your kind has yet figured this out.¡± It leaned in conspiratorially and whispered. ¡°Truth be told, this has little to do with what I¡¯m trying to show you, but I wanted to see your reaction.¡± Out of the corner of his eye, Freddy saw a giant shadow moving through the asteroid belt. ¡°Huh?¡± ¡°No time for that now, we have a lesson to continue.¡± Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. Suddenly, they sped back towards the sun, causing Freddy¡¯s stomach to jump to his throat. In the blink of an eye, they reached New Earth, descended to the ground, and appeared over a city. The buildings were obviously misplaced. The roads were cut apart and disconnected. Some buildings had even toppled over. Slowly, he and Insanity floated down to the surface, flying into one of the half-collapsed buildings. There, he saw a teenager handing over a pink prime vestige to an older, hardened man. Both were surrounded by scared-looking people. They were all dirty and looked like they hadn¡¯t slept in days. The man reluctantly grabbed the offered prime and scowled at it. ¡°And you say this will give me superpowers?¡± ¡°I¡­¡± the teenager tripped over his own words. ¡°Yes. That¡¯s what I heard them say. This is what that bastard used.¡± ¡°You sure it isn¡¯t a trick?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think so. They¡¯re desperately looking for more.¡± The man growled. ¡°I don¡¯t like it. What if this is some sort of demon? Or an alien¡­ parasite of sorts? Bah.¡± He spat to the side. ¡°And why give it to me?¡± ¡°We get it,¡± a random bystander added. ¡°But if we don¡¯t act, we¡¯re all going to be slaughtered. You¡¯re the biggest man here, and you¡¯re the only one who knows how to fight. Take it. Please.¡± ¡°I agree,¡± a woman added. ¡°Me too,¡± a man said. The hardened man¡¯s scowl deepened and he released a shivering breath. He crossed himself, muttering a quick prayer. ¡°Forgive me, Jesus.¡± Then he looked at the prime and said, ¡°Okay then. Give me that magic.¡± As soon as the man said that, the scene suddenly changed, and they found themselves in a fancy office. A young, angry-looking man in a suit held a large firearm, fiddling with it and constantly trying to pull the trigger. It didn¡¯t work. ¡°It isn¡¯t fucking jammed! I checked!¡± he shouted. ¡°Fuck! Just fire for fucks sake!¡± In his anger, he flung the gun at the wall and grabbed an old-world smartphone. ¡°And why the hell won¡¯t my phone turn on!? An EMP? I¡¯ve never heard of a goddamn EMP breaking guns before!¡± Just as he was about to throw the phone, too, a light flickered behind him. ¡°Huh?¡± he turned around, suddenly coming face to face with a portal leading into an open field. In the middle of that open field, a human-sized, almost chicken-like monster stood, turning to face him and cocking its head in curiosity. The phone fell out of the man¡¯s hand and clattered to the carpet. He took a step back and tripped over his own feet, falling to his ass. Then, he started cackling. ¡°I knew I shouldn¡¯t have fucked around with LSD.¡± The scene changed again. Three little kids ran down the street, not too far behind them, a woman screamed. ¡°Take it to your dad! Hurry!¡± One of the three, a boy, clutched a prime in his hands and sprinted. Their mother held an umbrella. A moment later, two angry men appeared from behind a bend, one of them carrying a fire axe and the other a crowbar. She tried swinging the umbrella at them, but the one with the crowbar caught it with one hand and smashed her head open. He glanced at her and then at the children. ¡°Shit! She gave it to the kids!¡± They sprinted after them. Just as they were about to catch up, a golden shield enveloped the children. They slammed into it, tumbling to the ground. ¡°Do not touch the children,¡± an ethereal voice echoed through the empty space. The men turned around and spotted a looming, towering figure. It looked like a large female doll that had been drawn onto reality. The power radiating off her was soothing yet alarmingly intense. This was an eidolon. ¡°I am Protection,¡± it said. ¡°Please leave. I will not let you hurt them.¡± The scene changed again, and this time, they were looking over a different city. Down below, Freddy spotted a large number of people fighting. Their weapons were crude, and barely anyone could even use a proper ability. But the streets were flowing with blood. Fire-affinity archs fought almost uncontested, frying anyone who faced them with ease. It was the easiest basic affinity to use for lethal purposes. And lethal, it was. Anyone with any sort of physical boost was like a god among men, smashing heads and tearing body aparts like warriors of legend. Chills ran up and down Freddy¡¯s body like an army of ants. He couldn¡¯t describe the way he felt watching this. It was all so chaotic and horrible. He had heard the stories of those who survived these days. They weren¡¯t joking. The early days of the Rift had truly been Hell on Earth. But as horrible as it was to see¡­ it was also bizarrely exciting. He could feel an undertone of change and opportunity, as terrible as its consequences were. He couldn¡¯t help but wonder¡ªif he were there, living through this as anyone else, how would he have handled it? And he had to wonder; why was this being shown to him? Insanity, as if it heard his thoughts, turned to him and said, ¡°Your world has re-established its order a long time ago. That can make it hard to see things clearly. I want you to behold the nature of the Gift in its purest form¡ªas well as the paradox that lies within it.¡± It turned to the streets below. ¡°And what is this ¡®Gift¡¯ supposed to be?¡± It smiled at him. ¡°A different kind of power.¡± The sight before shifted, and he appeared in a different place again. It was night this time. He spotted a few teenagers walking outside in the street. But something was different. They carried guns by their sides. And as they met another group of boys, they fired at them. Freddy winced at the sight. He heard of guns many times. He had seen them portrayed in movies through special effects. But this was the first time he actually understood just how powerful and scary they were. The small pieces of metal flew at such immense speed that even he could just barely track them. There was no way in hell he could dodge or even react to an object travelling at such a speed. Perhaps he could live with his undeath and incredible toughness, but if even a single bullet struck him in the eye, he wasn¡¯t so sure. And there they were. Children shooting children, spilling brains and blood on the otherwise calm streets. Carelessly using a power they shouldn¡¯t even have. The image shifted again, and this time, he witnessed the bombardment of a residential block, with numerous explosions decimating the concrete buildings and killing hundreds of innocents. The sight shifted again. This time, he stood in the middle of a desert. Then, off in the distance, an immense flash of light illuminated the entire horizon. A mushroom cloud of fire lifted high into the air, and the shockwave travelled across the landscape. He slowly breathed out. ¡°Holy shit¡­¡± ¡°Isn¡¯t it beautiful?¡± Insanity asked. ¡°The heartbeat of a star. A weapon that erased victory from the dictionary of war.¡± It turned to face him. ¡°Do you now understand?¡± He wanted to say he didn¡¯t. But he¡¯d seen a glimpse of the vast being Insanity spoke of. Hell, he was talking to the literal concept of insanity. It was hard to deny the truth he was being shown. About the nature of power. About the nature of ether. The world wasn¡¯t, and couldn¡¯t be fair. And this wasn¡¯t about fairness. He could feel his latent aura twisting in response to his newfound wisdom. And now that he knew this, he was slowly beginning to recognize a truth about himself. An uncomfortable one. One he¡¯d rather leave buried. Just as he had the thought, the image changed again. He immediately recognized where they were. It was the evening of the 200th anniversary of the Rift. They were right before the gate leading to the 25th district, a line of people waiting to enter. ¡°Whoa!¡± a young man yelped as someone leaped the fence right before his eyes. Freddy winced as he recognized himself, holding that damn can of beans. That jump had startled him more than he remembered. Bit by bit, he watched the scene play out before him. ¡°Please provide identity verification or confirmation that you have business inside.¡± ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°This is a private district. Mortals aren¡¯t allowed entry without permission.¡± Freddy sighed as he watched it play out. Before him, he saw a pitiful, skinny young man. He saw the desperation, the anxious energy. The spite brewing within. ¡°Sir, I will have to ask you to step away.¡± ¡°Insolent! Do you have any idea who my father is!?¡± Freddy winced. God, watching this was torture. Did he actually try that trick? What an idiot. Obviously, it didn¡¯t work. He was turned away. The scene suddenly started slowing down, as if time was crawling to a halt. He watched himself turning around, walking past the laughing crowd of one-stars, and clenching the bag in his hand. And he saw his own face. It was an ugly expression. A horrible look of hatred and resentment. It was a face he wasn¡¯t even aware he could make. Twisted, angry¡ªvengeful. Give him a knife, and he¡¯d stab someone. That was how furious he looked. But the next moment, he took a deep breath, and pushed it all down. Time kept moving at a normal speed. His steps continued, leading him towards the short wall, where he sat and deliberated. While the hatred within him stewed. While the burning desire for more ate away at his core. Freddy watched with his lips curled into a nasty frown, knowing, feeling exactly what was happening to him at that moment. Insanity stepped in front of him, blocking the view of his past self. ¡°It can¡¯t be perfect,¡± it said. ¡°It can not be fair.¡± The lumberjack turned to face Freddy with a serious expression. ¡°But the tools have been provided. Anyone who wishes for power will get a chance to grasp it.¡± Freddy saw his past self walking away, his steps firmly carrying him down the path into district 26. ¡°You have asked for it. With all your heart, you had wished for a chance to fight back. You can call it fate or destiny, but it is more a path towards an obstacle. And behind the obstacle, there is a reward. Ever since then, you have always weighed more on the big events and the big people. On the world. You¡¯re more likely to be where things are happening.¡± ¡°Is that why my life is so fucked up?¡± Freddy asked, still frowning. ¡°Is that why all the¡±¡ªhe choked¡ª¡±all the pain? All the suffering?¡± Insanity chuckled. ¡°There was a fair of share of you simply being an idiot and getting yourself into trouble. But yes. This is why.¡± ¡°Then how do I get rid of it?¡± Insanity grinned. ¡°All you have to do is wish it and it will go away.¡± Freddy closed his eyes. ¡°Done.¡± But Insanity was still grinning at him. ¡°You said all I had to do was wish for it.¡± ¡°I did say that, yes.¡± He breathed heavily, closing his eyes again. ¡°Fuck.¡± He turned around. For a few seconds, he simply stood there, clenching his fists. ¡°Can I go after him¡ªI mean¡­ after me?¡± ¡°Sure. Take all the time that you need.¡± Freddy broke into a run, chasing right after his past self. There, he watched it all play out. ¡°Passage break! Run for your lives!¡± From start to finish. ¡°Do we get uhm¡­ any form of¡­ reimbursement for this horribly traumatizing event?¡± The drive home. ¡°Did you hide under a body, too?¡± The run-in with his neighbors. ¡°Jesus Christ, Freddy! What the hell happened!?¡± The moment he threw up out the window. And the agonizing hours it took him to fall asleep. He stood above his resting, shivering self, watching with a disgusted scowl. He¡¯d been so pathetic back then. So fragile. So weak. So naive. Suddenly, he saw himself literally growl in his sleep, like some sort of angry dog. He couldn¡¯t hold back a laugh at the sight. ¡°God damn it, man.¡± He sighed. ¡°I never knew that watching your past self could feel so embarassing.¡± Insanity appeared beside him, sitting on the small fridge. ¡°Memory is usually quite biased. A mercy for most.¡± ¡°A mercy, indeed.¡± Freddy stood there for a while. Then, the slowly leaned back against the window sill and crossed his arms. ¡°Insanity¡ª¡± he paused. ¡°Can I call you that?¡± ¡°You can call me Sally if you want, but Insanity is my name.¡± It grinned. ¡°Okay¡­ uhm¡­ I think I¡¯m done. Can we leave now?¡± And as soon as he asked, he appeared back in the cottage, facing the lumberjack. No. Facing Insanity. It grabbed another hare leg and continued its meal. ¡°Any questions?¡± it asked through a mouth full of flesh. Freddy slowly walked over to the nearest chair and sat down. For a long moment, he simply stood there, unable to put together a coherent thought. ¡°What¡¯s with the lumberjack?¡± ¡°Out of everything you¡¯ve seen¡ªno, out of all that I¡¯ve shown you, is that really what you want to know?¡± ¡°I have a billion questions I¡¯d like to ask.¡± He hesitated for a moment. ¡°But¡­ I don¡¯t think I actually want the answers. So tell me. Is this just a random dude, or¡­?¡± Insanity grinned. ¡°I am already quite the fan of your species. But this man is something special.¡± Freddy heard doors opening, and he turned to the right. There was a door to a room there, cloaked by a sinister darkness. He frowned and reluctantly glanced back at Insanity. ¡°What¡¯s in there?¡± ¡°His wife and two young daughters.¡± Its grin widened from ear to ear. ¡°Wanna see?¡± Freddy scowled. ¡°Ugh, that¡¯s fucking sick. You know what, I¡¯m done with questions. What comes next?¡± Insanity shrugged and snapped its fingers. The room elongated, turning into more of a hallway, and on one side, spirits started appearing. Some were alone while others were in small groups. All of them just stood there, completely unmoving, as if they were statues rather than actual spirits. Freddy looked at the row of spirits and then glanced at Insanity. ¡°What is that?¡± ¡°That¡¯s the second part of your reward, Freddy. You have some abilities that need upgrading, don¡¯t you?¡± Chapter 159 - Across the Board Freddy eyed the collection of unmoving spirits. The number of groups coincided with the exact number of abilities he had ready for an upgrade. What he didn¡¯t immediately understand was why there were several spirits in some groups, but he had a pretty good guess. Insanity didn¡¯t give him all that much time to puzzle it out. ¡°You will be rewarded a choice upgrade for all your abilities. The choices will include all those you¡¯ve been considering.¡± It grinned. ¡°And a few will have my recommendations.¡± Freddy snorted at that, but Insanity immediately scowled at him. ¡°Do not look down on me. I am Insanity. Not Stupidity. I will not give you bad suggestions.¡± It got off the chair and rushed over to him, pushing its face into his and snarling. ¡°Insanity is to depart from order in thought and action. You have done so many times. And to great benefit. So show some respect!¡± ¡°I get it. And I apologize.¡± ¡°Good!¡± it barked. ¡°Now get your ass up and get to choosin¡¯!¡± Freddy got up and walked all the way to the end of the line, where he was greeted by a single spirit. It was his Lake of Blood upgrade¡ªvolume. That was the only choice. Anything else wouldn¡¯t just be insane. It would also be dumb. ¡°How do I take it?¡± he asked. ¡°Do I have to fight it?¡± Spirits could enter reality, meaning they could be fought outside the Netherecho. The tricky part of capturing them was that it still needed to be done within the Netherecho. Now, killing a spirit in reality was relatively simple. Weakening it for capture was a different beast. As soon as a spirit received a substantial injury in reality, it would no longer have the strength to remain there. The fight needed to be finished in the Netherecho. Some were tempted to imagine that capturing spirits was even easier than capturing remnants. After all, an archhuman¡¯s projection didn¡¯t grow as much in power as their true body did. Being able to rely on one¡¯s true body should make it a lot easier, right? Wrong. Capturing spirits was a hundred times harder than capturing remnants. For starters, just finding the right concept was tricky enough. They couldn¡¯t be permanently imprisoned through any means. Meaning, they had to be tracked down in the wild. This was much easier said than done. They were rare. The interspace was big and dangerous. On top of that, the sheer variety of concepts made tracking down even just a specific category a monumental task. There were people who made a living out of tracking down spirits of specific concepts and then selling their most recent location to the highest bidder. And that was just their most recent location. In the meantime, they could move elsewhere or even die. And that was the easy part. To capture a spirit, one had to subdue it all on their own. This could be done through a verbal agreement. Any sentient ether construct, from the most regular of vestiges to the most powerful of eidolons, could be made to simply surrender themselves with the right choice of arguments. But even though they couldn¡¯t lie, they could and often did change their minds. Sometimes in the last moment, just as they were about to be captured. Trying to talk it out was a viable choice. But it was not a safe way to handle them. So what about fighting? Their power ranged drastically. with the most powerful among them being an even more significant threat than Thor. Pick the wrong fight, and it was lights out. As mentioned, one needed to ensure they didn¡¯t die. Spirits were already dangerous enough, even without having to be careful when fighting them. Wound them too little and they¡¯d crush an archhuman¡¯s spirit projection. Wound them too much and they¡¯d die before they become an upgrade. The spirits Freddy was being offered seemed to be completely unmoving. And that was enough to make him worry. ¡°Relax,¡± Insanity said. ¡°Just touch the one you want to pick, and it will move to the Netherecho where you can safely capture it without resistance, while the others will vanish.¡± Freddy raised an eyebrow and squinted his eyes at Insanity. Insanity snorted. ¡°I am still a construct. I represent a truth of the universe. I can not lie to you.¡± It was good to hear that that still applied. And it most certainly got Freddy excited. It would have taken him years of work to gather every one of the exact constructs he was looking for. And even with Bloodshed¡¯s help, there was a non-zero chance he¡¯d have died during the search. There were many two-stars who had reached the upgrade threshold for a stage 2 ability and then just never upgraded it. Capturing spirits as a three-star was one thing. Capturing them as a two-star was a death sentence for most. Despite the fact that it was the absolute greatest challenge he had ever faced, and the fact that it had likely fucked him up in a million different ways, he was starting to feel really glad to have entered this dungeon. And frankly, even though this was an incredible reward, he was already aware that this wasn¡¯t the main prize. Those strange visions that had nearly split his head apart. Everything else was extra. And that had been his main reward. He couldn¡¯t tell why yet. But it had changed him. The way he saw ether. The way he understood everything. He refocused on the task at hand. Freddy approached the spirit and cautiously touched it with a finger. Before he could even feel it, it simply vanished, blinking out of his sight like a hallucination. Taking a deep breath, releasing Bloodshed from his ring, and making some distance from where the spirit had been, he entered the Netherecho with his soul projection, ready for a fight. Just in case. To his relief, it was standing at the same spot as in reality. As promised, it was completely and utterly without ego. Freddy focused, releasing the ethereal chains of his Lake of Blood and thoroughly tying the spirit up. Then, he pulled it in. It was an intoxicating sensation. He could feel something powerful rise within his soul, the shell growing a bit in size, its blue cage shimmering almost as if it were metallic. Within, he could see the amalgamation of the vestige, remnant, and finally, the spirit. With every added construct, the old one was fused into the new one, transforming into a complex concept. But this one. It was no longer completely unmoving. He could see the spirit within stir slightly as if having a restless sleep. He sighed. The next upgrade¡ªstage 4, would be far more complicated and unforgiving. This was the last chance he could even consider being picky with the concept he would use. Sea of Blood: Stage 3¡ª0% Progress. This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. Quickly, he returned to his body and opened his eyes. He kept Bloodshed outside, just in case. Insanity said nothing about it. That was one. It was time for the next upgrade, and this was the first one he got several offers for. Choice 1: Titaniumness. Choice 2: Tungstenness. Insanity¡¯s offer: Radioactivity. The choice between titanium and tungsten was a tough one. Heh. Tough. Indeed, both of these metals were quite tough. Tungsten was a lot stronger. But tungsten was also very dense. His blood metal would finally stop being lightweight, but this would have its consequences. It would also considerably increase the essence cost of forming his blood metal. Titanium was considerably lighter. But it wouldn¡¯t be as strong. Frankly, both were good choices. His heart tugged him in the direction of tungsten, but titanium had enough merit that he couldn¡¯t part with it. But between those two, either would be fine. What caught his attention was Insanity¡¯s offer. ¡°Radioactivity? Really?¡± Insanity grinned at him. Back before ether, radioactivity caused certain atoms to decay, releasing extremely energetic particles. After ether, this property changed. Now, those same substances produced essence. Tzenekite was the most prominent of such materials. Freddy was already aware of ¡°radioactivity¡± as a choice for Crimson Mercury. There was just one small problem with it¡ªit sucked. It made it so that his blood would produce its own blood essence. This couldn¡¯t be absorbed, so most of it would just be lost. But when he used an ability to form blood, that ability would be able to sustain whatever functions it had on it¡¯s own. For example, his Blood Javelin could float in the air due to anti-gravity. But this only lasted for about a minute. With radioactivity, the blood essence that was maintaining this function could be replenished, allowing his blood javelins to float significantly longer. His shields could also recharge their blocking function, and his Knuckle Blade could recharge the piercing function. Seemed pretty amazing, right? In theory, it was phenomenal. In reality, it was disappointing. The ether generation was just too slow. Sure, he could replenish the blocking function of his shields. After more than ten minutes of waiting. In a real fight, that might as well be eternity. ¡°I know what you¡¯re thinking,¡± Insanity said. ¡°But don¡¯t forget about those Crimson Dragon Scales. They will be able to regenerate on their own.¡± ¡°And if I take either titanium or tungsten, they will take significantly less damage than they will ever realisically regenerate in a real fight.¡± ¡°That is true, but¡±¡ªit lifted a finger¡ª¡±what if you found an eidolon¡ª¡± ¡°Let me cut you off right there,¡± Freddy said with a raised hand. ¡°That is just insane. On brand for you, I guess, but I¡¯m not gonna gamble on finding a specific eidolon. Even if I do find the right concept, the eidolon¡¯s personality could be horrible.¡± ¡°Hmph. Coward. But, all right, fair enough,¡± it said. ¡°But! You will get the chance to reform this ability at stage 3¡ª50%. If you find the right inspiration, you might be able to bring out a lot more power out. Whaddaya say?¡± ¡°That¡­¡± That wasn¡¯t a bad point. He eyed the rest of the waiting spirits and then slowly shook his head. ¡°This choice will impact the rest of my decisions. And I haven¡¯t planned my choices around radioactivity.¡± Insanity clicked its tongue. ¡°Just make your choice.¡± Freddy eyed the other two spirits. Titanium. Tungsten. Usually, titanium would be the more rational choice. His abilities were already very expensive. But he had his Blood Ring, which would keep growing and giving him an even bigger discount. Besides, the power tungsten would bring was more than worth the cost. His finger floated over to the concept of ¡°tungstenness.¡± Crimson Mercury: Stage 3¡ª0% Progress. Next up was Purifying Crimson Spring. He already had ¡°purity¡± and ¡°cleansing.¡± He was quite happy to have taken Crimson Spring down this route. It was time to upgrade it. Insanity had no suggestions. And he was considering only one choice. The concept of ¡°untaintedness.¡± Purifying Crimson Spring: Stage 3¡ª0% Progress Next was another single-option choice. Ten Thousand Wet Hells. The concept of ¡°obliteration.¡± Freddy turned to eye Insanity. ¡°You know, I was convinced you¡¯d suggest something here.¡± ¡°Oh, no, that choice is already batshit insane. In fact, I¡¯m quite proud of you for this one.¡± Freddy scoffed. He had a whole century to consider what he would do with this ability. By all means, this was a batshit insane upgrade. And he wasn¡¯t even choosing this because he thought it was the best choice. No. Rather, he knew damn well that if he didn¡¯t continue to go down this path, he¡¯d regret it for the rest of his life. Just how tough could he theoretically become? It was a question that he needed to answer, lest it plague him forever. Maybe even enough to start the tempering technique over. That being said, if using this was truly impossible, he might be forced to start over anyway. But it was a risk he was willing to take. Hundred Thousand Wet Hells: Stage 3¡ª0% Progress. Next up was Abyssal Depths. Again, no offers by Insanity, allowing Freddy to complete the trifecta of ¡°compression,¡± ¡°liquid compression,¡± and ¡°water compression.¡± Abyssal Depths: Stage 3¡ª0% Progress. Water Body followed. He already had ¡°water¡± and ¡°potency.¡± And he had a few ideas for this one. Choice 1: Fluidity Choice 2: Pressure Insanity¡¯s offer: Tide Fluidity would make his abilities a little cheaper, while pressure would make his abilities a bit more powerful. He turned to Insanity. ¡°What in the everliving fuck would ¡®tide¡¯ do?¡± It smiled. ¡°Glad you asked. It would kick up the water in your body into a cycle. During a ¡®low tide¡¯ your abilities would be a little more expensive and a little less powerful. During a ¡®high tide,¡¯ the opposite would happen.¡± ¡°That is insane.¡± ¡°The effect would be quite prominent, swinging up to 25% in both directions.¡± ¡°What!?¡± Freddy shouted. ¡°That is bonkers. Wait, how long would these tides last?¡± Insanity moved its hand in a so-so gesture. ¡°Couple of seconds.¡± This was honestly a pretty damn good offer. The tradeoff was obvious; if he could time it correctly, this would be a horrifying boost to his power, but if he were forced to time it poorly, it would be severely punishing. He mulled it over a bit. It was tempting. But it was just too much hassle. He would head into action as soon as he left this dungeon, so he didn¡¯t have the time to master this power. Sighing with some regret, his hand reached for ¡°fluidity.¡± He needed something to cope with his skyrocketing essence expenditure. Insanity balked at him. ¡°You¡¯re not fun at all.¡± Water Body: Stage 3¡ª0% Progress. Gore Knuckles was next. Choice 1: Bleeding. Choice 2: Persistence. Insanity¡¯s offer: Pain. The effect of ¡°bleeding¡± was obvious, but ¡°persistence,¡± while a bit more involved, was almost the same thing. It would make wounds caused by the Gore Knuckles more challenging to close and heal. They already created very jagged and messy wounds. Gore Knuckles was already great at both of these things, so honestly, this was a complete toss-up. Either choice would work just fine. But this time, his eyes moved over to Insanity¡¯s offer. Insanity smiled at him. It already knew what choice he was going to make. Gore Knuckles weren¡¯t the most effective weapon in the world. But that wasn¡¯t the point. They were meant to intimidate. Sure, they allowed him to get more use out of his talent, but from his experience, the brutality aspect was just a lot more beneficial than a small boost to his healing. This ability perfectly complimented the horror of fighting Freddy, the undead and undying maniac who feared no injuries. Adding pain to them was such a good choice that he almost considered it perfectly rational rather than insane. But that probably said more about him than he was comfortable to admit. And this upgrade definitely warranted a name change. Terror Knuckles: Stage 3¡ª0% Progress. Blood Javelin followed. Choice 1: Unity. Choice 2: Piercing. Insanity¡¯s offer: Chaos. ¡°Unity¡± was an exceptionally solid choice. It would make every Blood Javelin he conjured bonded to one another. As soon as he threw one, the rest of them would follow right after like a swarm of angry bees. ¡°Piercing¡± was a little more pragmatic. It was just a good option, plain and simple. ¡°Okay,¡± Freddy said. ¡°Why ¡®chaos¡¯? What exactly would that do?¡± Insanity made a swerving motion with its hand. ¡°It would make the trajectory of the Blood Javelin chaotic. It no longer matters how good you are at aiming or how good your opponent is at dodging! You might hit! But you also might miss! You never know! Isn¡¯t that exciting?¡± Freddy gave it a long look and then reached for ¡°Unity.¡± ¡°No, wait!¡± Insanity urged. ¡°That¡¯s not all. You could choose precisely when that trajectory starts being chaotic. You don¡¯t even have to activate the function at all!¡± Freddy raised an eyebrow. That wasn¡¯t that bad. He could see it being a fantastic way to throw someone off or to mess with particularly speedy enemies who enjoyed narrowly avoiding projectiles. He actually didn¡¯t mind this option at all. He quite liked it, even. But in the end, he liked ¡°unity¡± just a bit more. Blood Javelin: Stage 3¡ª0% Progress Accelerate Blood Projectile followed, and this was a tricky one. Option 1: Charge. Option 2: Acceleration. Option 3: Blood. In the end, he landed on ¡°acceleration.¡± He already had ¡°charge¡± with Hydraulic Flex, and charging two abilities at the same time was a bit distracting. ¡°Blood¡± was a solid choice, as it would both reduce cost and increase power, but ¡°acceleration¡± had an element of trickiness. His thrown projectiles would continue to gradually speed up the longer they traveled. Not infinitely, of course, but it would both be enough to throw opponents off and to give him more punch when throwing from further away. Accelerate Blood Projectile: Stage 3¡ª0% Progress. Next up was an ability he¡¯d spent a long time thinking about, and one he was sure would always be an integral part of his power. Chapter 160 - Hobo Sanguine Beheader. During the many matches Freddy had against the shadow thing in his dreams, he had come to realize that Sanguine Beheader was a very ¡°sometimes¡± weapon. Freddy had built an arsenal of flexible choices, so he was capable of adapting to a wide range of challenges. His mighty sword was only sometimes a good choice. But those fights where it was the best option to rely on¡­ Well, those tended to be the fights he won with most ease. Bulky, slow-moving targets were the perfect victim for his sword. Due to its sheer mass, it doubled as a bludgeon against tough opponents, allowing Freddy to crush through defense where he would otherwise be forced to resort to the expensive and self-destructive Tsunami Strike. As he stood there facing the veritable army of spirits, he sighed, remembering one of the main problems with this ability. There were simply too many good choices. Choice 1: Toughness Choice 2: Sharpness Choice 3: Sword Choice 4: Momentum Choice 5: Blood Choice 6: Parry Choice 7: Shock Absorption Choice 8: Crushing Choice 9: Execution Insanity¡¯s offer: Retaliation Most of the choices were pretty self-explanatory. Among those that would have interesting effects, ¡°parry¡± would allow him to parry an attack, getting multiple stacks of the function by double-starring; ¡°crushing¡± would give him stacks of crushing blows, also multiplicative; and ¡°execution¡± was a bit special. It was similar to crushing, in the sense that it empowered an attack of his choice, but it would always only give a single stack. Activating it with multiple stars would make that one attack hit that much harder. It was a damn fitting concept for the theme of the weapon, and it would, as should be obvious, make for an incredible finishing attack. The one thing Freddy regretted was the inability to slot in a concept that would allow him to swing the weapon faster. Unfortunately, the bulky ass sword had scant few concepts related to swiftness. Who could have possibly predicted that one? This time, before he could even show curiosity, Insanity was already explaining its offer, ¡°Retaliation would make it so that when you receive damage, your next attack with your Sanguine Beheader will be greater depending on the amount of damage you¡¯ve received.¡± Freddy froze. ¡°Oh I¡¯m so taking that.¡± And for this one, he thought a name change was apt. Sanguine Avenger: Stage 3¡ª0% Progress Knuckle Blade was next. With ¡°piercing¡± and ¡°impact,¡± it made for a great anti-armor choice. Both it and Sanguine Avenger were excellent anti-defense choices. So what was it that defined and separated Knuckle Blade? Speed. It was faster. And also more precise. Choice 1: Acceleration Insanity¡¯s offer: Hunger Freddy raised an eyebrow. ¡°It would drink blood to recharge the impact function.¡± ¡°Huh. That actually seems pretty damn good.¡± ¡°Except if it doesn¡¯t get enough blood, it will start drinking your blood.¡± Freddy sighed. ¡°How much.¡± ¡°Quite a bit, admittedly.¡± ¡°Not horrible, but I think I¡¯m gonna stick to my choice on this one.¡± ¡°Bah. Loser.¡± He picked ¡°acceleration.¡± This would drastically impact the speed of his jabs every time he activated the impact function. He didn¡¯t dislike Insanity¡¯s offer, but he really wanted a bigger advantage against fast opponents. Knuckle Blade: Stage 3¡ª0% Progress His Crimson Wing Shield followed after. He had ¡°blocking¡± and ¡°shielding.¡± There was no reason to get too experimentative with this one. It already did what it needed to do. It just had to get better at it. He picked the concept of ¡°defense.¡± Crimson Wing Shield: Stage 3¡ª0% Progress Next was Dissipate Wave, another single-option upgrade granting him the rather precious ¡°refund¡± concept. Now, he would not only cancel the Flowing Strike but also refund 50%. He was very happy with that one. Dissipate Wave: Stage 3¡ª0% Progress He sighed as soon as he spotted the two choices for the next ability. On the left was a spirit that emanated visible shockwaves through the air. On the right was¡­ a bomb. The ability in question was Tsunami Strike. Choice 1: Shockwave Insanity¡¯s offer: Explosion ¡°On brand for you, I guess. But wow. That is one crazy suggestion.¡± Insanity shrugged. ¡°Don¡¯t act like some sort of saint of sanity now, you little prick. ¡®Shockwave¡¯ is the first even half reasonable step you¡¯ve taken with this ability.¡± ¡°Okay. Fair enough. So you want me to go full-send then? To give up on even trying to keep my damn arm intact when I use this ability?¡± Insanity grinned. ¡°This might be my suggestion¡­ but don¡¯t act like you haven¡¯t already considered it.¡± It was right. He had considered this option. Many times even. He kept telling himself that he should be reasonable and pick something safer. It was Thor¡¯s advice. It was the advice of anyone with common sense¡ªdon¡¯t use abilities that will hurt you. But the question was there: why should he use common sense? He already had a number of reasonable forms of attack. Tsunami Strike was not one of them. It would always be a little insane. But was that necessarily a bad thing? His health was pretty much just another resource to him. What was wrong with treating it like a resource? Was it wrong because it was ugly to see? Was it wrong because it would hurt? No. It wasn¡¯t wrong at all. It was all ¡°common sense.¡± And while he could be said to be many things, he was anything but common. He needed rare sense. A unique perspective. He looked over at the lumberjack. Freddy was under no illusion here¡ªInsanity wasn¡¯t giving him crazy, wacky choices. It was giving him insane choices, sure, but they weren¡¯t bad. None of them had been bad. And this one wasn¡¯t bad, either. ¡°That decides it, then,¡± he said with a snort. ¡°Tsunami Strike will be my finishing move.¡± His finger reached over and touched the bomb. Tsunami Strike: Stage 3¡ª0% Progress Hydraulic Flex followed. It was another single-choice upgrade. The concept of ¡°redirection.¡± Freddy wasn¡¯t slow. He was clunky, and that was because he couldn¡¯t slow down. He could accelerate to insane speeds if given the opportunity to run straight, but if forced to turn at a sharp, ninety-degree angle, he wouldn¡¯t be able to do it while maintaining his speed. That was the thing that needed to change. That was the thing he needed to target if he wanted to become fast. Hydraulic Flex: Stage 3¡ª0% Progress Create Water was another boring upgrade. He got ¡°water,¡± he got ¡°volume,¡± so next was ¡°discount.¡± Create Water: Stage 3¡ª0% Progress And the final ability he had to upgrade¡ªHydraulic Throw. He had ¡°speed¡± he had ¡°tension.¡± There was only one thing he needed to do, now. The concept of ¡°power.¡± Simple and effective. Hydraulic Throw: Stage 3¡ª0% Progress Freddy took a deep, shivering breath as he finally absorbed the last spirit. ¡°Wow. I feel invincible.¡± He turned to face Insanity. ¡°Uh¡­ Thank you, I guess?¡± ¡°Thank me?¡± It grinned, but the grin died a moment later. ¡°What for? My existence is a tool. Just like all else in this world. Do you thank your fucking sword every time you cut someone¡¯s head off? Please. Besides, your thanks is premature.¡± That made Freddy¡¯s stomach sink. In the next moment, Insanity waved its hand, and three objects appeared in the air. Freddy gasped. ¡°What is that?¡± ¡°This is your third and final reward. You can only choose one.¡± It pointed at the object at the far left. It was a small, glimmering ball, with what appeared to be stars in a beige void. ¡°This is a superior gem of binding. You can use it to combine any four cursed items into a set.¡± Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. Freddy¡¯s eyes shot wide open. Insanity ignored him, pointing at the second item. It was a small crystal, like a broken shard of glass. It shimmered with myriad colors. ¡°This is a unique affinity shard. Use it, and you can choose any affinity you desire. Even a second unique affinity, although you won¡¯t know what it will do ahead of time.¡± Sweat started dripping down Freddy¡¯s back. It pointed at the third object, a misshapen, irregular ball, one that looked almost like a lumpy prime vestige. It was bone-white, and it had a dull, expressionless face. It was a prime spirit. He could use it to get another spirit ability. But something was strange. This one was huge, bigger than his head. He swallowed as he realized what it was. Insanity flicked it with a finger, making it spin in the air. ¡°This is a unique prime spirit. The spirit ability contained within is quite simple. For ten seconds from an outside perspective, five seconds will pass from your perspective. Everything will appear to move at twice the speed, while you will appear to move in slow motion. Then, for ten seconds, those perspectives will reverse. For five seconds from an outside perspective, ten seconds will pass for you. You will move twice as quickly, as if the world had slowed to a crawl around you.¡± What the hell is going on? Freddy was convinced that that would be it for the rewards. But this? Any of these three choices were something that would break the whole empire if it were put up for an auction. He had done it himself, so he knew damn well just how much work it was to get through this dungeon. But even he thought this was too much. Almost as if reading his mind, Insanity shrugged. ¡°If you don¡¯t want one, I guess I¡¯ll¡ª¡± ¡°No!¡± he shouted lunging forward with an extended arm. ¡°I¡¯ll pick.¡± It smiled. ¡°Take your time.¡± He sat down, pulling his knees forward and crossing his fingers over them. He buried his nose in his intertwined digits, slightly rocking back and forth as he ran his mind through the options. There were some tough choices among his offered upgrades. But this was on a whole new level. He eyed the spirit ability. That one was good. Really good. Amazing, even. Just off the top of his head, he could think of five different tricks he could pull off with the time-bending. And if he was facing a quick opponent? Sure, he would get slowed down first, but if he just waited it out, he could turn the fight around in an instant. The main problem was¡­ well¡­ it would be his third spirit ability. But it was unique. What the hell did that mean? ¡°That¡¯s a unique spirit ability,¡± he said, gritting his teeth. ¡°What kind of advantage does it being unique provide?¡± Insanity grinned at him. ¡°You should know that much already. After all, you already have two unique spirit abilities.¡± Freddy froze. ¡°I do!?¡± It made sense. Bloodshed was a unique ether construct. And they had both given him a new affinity. He had thought that might have been due to the strange method he received them¡ªafter all, regular prime spirits didn¡¯t give affinities. ¡°So¡­ Wait, what!?¡± He scratched his forehead nervously. ¡°They¡¯re both good spirit abilities, but nothing about them is different.¡± ¡°Heh. Talk about throwing pearls before swine. But I guess it makes sense you wouldn¡¯t know what they did. After all, you gotta reach the sixth star to find out.¡± Freddy perked up. ¡°The sixth star!? What!?¡± He took a deep breath to calm himself down. ¡°That¡¯s possible?¡± ¡°Of course it is.¡± It slapped the floating unique prime spirit. ¡°And this thing will help you get there.¡± Freddy hesitated. ¡°It will slow my growth by 99%. How then?¡± ¡°Simple. Because it doesn¡¯t ¡®slow your growth¡¯ as many of your kind appear to believe.¡± It suddenly turned deathly serious. ¡°Spirit abilities compress your latent aura.¡± For a long moment, Freddy just sat there, letting those words sink in. His eyes slowly widened as he processed the implications. ¡°Yup,¡± it said, cackling. ¡°Of course it will slow you down. But your rewards go up accordingly. Remember what I said. Everything is a trade.¡± Freddy sat there, contemplating it for a long moment. ¡°You said it would help me get to the sixth star?¡± Insanity nodded. ¡°It takes a lot of latent aura to reach the sixth star. The sooner you get the full compression, the better it will be for your growth. Though, to be frank with you, getting all three before the third star is¡­ well¡­ I¡¯m making the pitch. It should be obvious.¡± ¡°Insane? Why?¡± ¡°It will make things easier for you later by making them difficult now. But for you, I¡¯d highly recommend you take this.¡± ¡°Any particular reason I shouldn¡¯t get to the third star first?¡± ¡°Because your talent evolution will be underwhelming.¡± Freddy laughed reflexively at that. ¡°No it won¡¯t.¡± Then clear anger seeped into his voice. ¡°It won¡¯t. Why would it be underwhelming? That makes no sense.¡± ¡°Kid. You had some pretty insane achievements at the first star. So why did your talent change so little? Any guesses?¡± ¡°It¡­ It became a lot more useful.¡± ¡°That¡¯s just a mutation to fit your needs. But its power is nearly identical.¡± It left the three floating objects and walked over to him. ¡°Same quality. Same percentage. Did you never wonder why?¡± He did. Of course he did. He had killed both the giant leviathan and slain a damn Lord. His expectation was that he¡¯d get 10% Lifesteal as his next upgrade. But he didn¡¯t. And it had bothered him. Even though it was more useful, he still never understood why. Why had it changed so little? Insanity reached him and squatted to look him in the eye. ¡°It¡¯s because your talent is already ridiculously powerful.¡± For a long moment, he was going to retort. But what was the point? It was right. And he knew it. The sheer number of things his talent could do for him was way above any ordinary talent. It was a cheat, through and through. An unfair advantage. Toughness well above what he should be capable of. Strength. Endurance. Powerful abilities. And healing. Infinite healing. From nearly everything. Taking a deep breath, his eyes drifted towards the unique prime spirit. And then to the other two offers. The unique affinity shard was amazing. If he could get a unique affinity for his blood, god knew just how powerful he could become. Unique affinities could be hard to utilize, but they were always a huge advantage. And the binding gem? Four cursed items? If he collected two more unique cursed items, it could genuinely change his life. His power would always be well above his level. But his eyes moved right back to that prime spirit. He bit his lip. ¡°How far along am I?¡± he asked. ¡°What would my talent evolve into if I ascended now?¡± ¡°You¡¯d get maybe 1.5% Lifesteal. Or alternatively, some other minor boost, like slight lingering regeneration if you overheal yourself.¡± He laughed. ¡°That¡¯s it? That¡¯s all? All this work, and that¡¯s all I would get?¡± ¡°Do not take it lightly when I say that it is a damn miracle you¡¯ve earned even this much at just the second star. You have the potential to bathe everything in insanity, Freddy Stern. So what will it be? The binding gem? The affinity shard? Or the prime spirit?¡± Freddy took a deep breath. ¡°I choose¡ª¡± *** Travis found himself standing outside. The rain poured from above. Wind howled. A terrible storm had descended upon Valhalla. Behind Travis stood his people. Most of them were hiding from the rain, but all the fighters were out there getting drenched by his side. Before them stood an unassuming man. The man¡¯s face was clear and unblemished, his posture firm, but his countenance was ordinary. He was dressed like any other office worker. ¡°Adjudicator,¡± Travis greeted him, gulping. ¡°What brings you here today?¡± ¡°You should already be well aware,¡± the man said. ¡°They¡¯re coming. News spread fast, I suppose. All the other major faction leaders should be here any minute now.¡± Travis gritted his teeth. ¡°Are you gonna¡ª¡± ¡°I¡¯m not going to side with anyone here. That isn¡¯t my job. When it comes to conflicts like these, my role is to minimize unnecessary loss of human life and to uphold any deals made between the parties in question.¡± The man patted Travis on the back. ¡°I will ensure they can¡¯t back out of any deal you make with them.¡± Travis sagged in some semblance of relief. ¡°Thank you. That is enough for me.¡± The time seemed to drag on forever. Travis stood right outside the headquarters, wet from head to toe. The storm echoed its sorrow, the lightning tears mourning the loss of their father. He laughed. ¡°I remember how you said you wanted a funeral on the rainiest, most depressing day ever.¡± He looked up, his lips curling down unwittingly. The gate was wide open. In the distance, Travis noticed the movement of vans. They were almost here. He turned around, facing the men and women of Valhalla. ¡°Don¡¯t fight. The adjudicator will keep you all safe if we can make a deal. Don¡¯t make this any harder on me than it needs to be. Please.¡± Everyone reluctantly nodded. And with that, they stepped outside the gates. There were only eight vans coming, but when they parked, dozens of people came out of each one. Not too far behind them were five fancy vehicles. The one in the front was a sleek, pitch-black vehicle. It parked on the clearing, and the doors opened. Out came a few men dressed in practical black suits. Among them stood a figure clad in what looked like very high-end tactical gear. The man¡¯s hair was long and as dark as the night. His eyes were as deep as the night sky. He wasn¡¯t too large, but his muscles were extremely well-developed. He had forearms nearly as big as his biceps, while his chest and shoulders were more moderately sized. A compact yet lethal package. This was the leader of the Umbra Clan. And their most powerful assassin. Behind them was a white limousine. Out it came a man in a dazzling white suit, covered in more gold than the tomb of an ancient king. It was the CEO of Grand West Enterprises. His hair was a lightly curly, bright blond. His eyes were hidden behind gaudy sunglasses. The third vehicle was an old-fashioned floating wooden carriage. Out came several figures wearing blue robes. At the forefront was a woman with dazzling cyan hair and eyes of the same color. While she had no signs of aging, it was clear that she was no young woman. Her bearing was regal, and everyone around her showed deference. Her pale eyes were colder than the deepest reaches of the Far North. This was the leader of the Lapis Clan. The fourth vehicle was a red sports car. Out of it came a sleazy-looking man clad in a mostly unbuttoned dress shirt. He flipped a grey tilby and plopped it on his thick, frizzy, black hair. Out of the back of the car came his son. This was the CEO of Strata. And last, but definitely not least, a blue SUV pulled up. Out of the driver¡¯s seat came Keagan Gem, the stocky, rugged man with short-cut hair and an apparently no-bullshit attitude. Out the other seat left an effeminate man with long white hair. His physique was thin and soft. This was clearly no warrior. This was Johnathan Faller¡ªthe head of the Faller family. While the Gem part of Gem & Faller handled most of the administrative work, the Fallers were the workhorses of their union. They comprised primarily non-combat archhumans and did most of the high-level ethertech work in the city. Their expertise gave them a lot of soft power, and many years ago, they merged with the Gems to create Gem & Faller, a union that benefitted both families. Impressively enough, Johnathan was a three-star as a non-combat archhuman, a rare sight, especially in these parts. But it was apparent to everyone who the real boss in their little union was. Out the back of the SUV came Tanner and Gina Gem. While most of their people stayed back, the six three-stars made their way forward. Travis took a hesitant breath and stepped before them, ready to bring it all to an end. ¡°Hello there,¡± greeted the CEO of Strata. ¡°You¡¯re lookin¡¯ quite calm for a mad dog, Travis. Hehehe.¡± ¡°Hello to you as well.¡± The clan leader of Lapis stepped forward. ¡°I am sure this weather isn¡¯t pleasant for any of you, either. We all know what we¡¯re here for. Let us skip the pleasantries and get to the point. Travis. Thor is dead. You have no standing or leverage in this negotiation. Your non-combatants will be put to work. Your fighters will surrender themselves for execution. Hurry it up. We don¡¯t have all day to stand around.¡± Travis clamped down on his urge to shout. He took a deep breath, calming himself. Then, he said pleasantly. ¡°Ma¡¯am, our warriors are not pushovers. If you wish to force unfavorable terms, we will be forced to fight back. I¡¯m sure it¡¯s in your best interest for all your people to walk away alive. If you don¡¯t want blood to be spilled, give us a better offer.¡± The leader of the Umbra Clan stepped forward. ¡°I fear we do not have any intention of doing so,¡± he said, his voice sharp and masculine. ¡°Travis, your people have spent years bringing instability into our city. If you so insist, we can compromise with imprisonment and forced labour instead of execution. But freedom of any kind is not something we will accept.¡± The man¡¯s gaze hardened. ¡°Even if it must come to bloodshed, so be it.¡± Travis¡¯s heartbeat sped up, and he found himself biting the back of his lower lip. ¡°Please. Have some mercy.¡± He noticed Keagan Gem, the CEO of Strata, and the CEO of Grand West Enterprises smirk at his words. He slowly blinked, keenly aware of how little power he had in that moment. Keagan stepped up. ¡°Well¡­ If you want us to have some mercy, then we will need you to do something else for us.¡± ¡°What do you want?¡± ¡°Hand your little friends over.¡± Travis scowled. ¡°What? Who?¡± ¡°Come on, Travis.¡± Keagan leaned in. ¡°There is no use in pretending to be oblivious. Slave, Skull, and their little assassin buddy.¡± His gaze grew manic. ¡°Where the hell are they?¡± ¡°Sorry, you mean Freddy Cliff? I apologize, but I have no clue who else you could be talking about.¡± ¡°Heh. Okay, then. Bring us Slave. He¡¯ll tell us where his friends are.¡± Travis struggled to keep it in. He wanted to scream. He wanted to curse. Freddy¡­ Did he actually run away? That was stupid. He¡¯d be caught, anyway. And they wouldn¡¯t get anything out of this deal. The words were on the tip of his tongue. I don¡¯t know where he is. He wanted to say it, but he didn¡¯t dare. He kept his mouth shut, stalling for just another moment, even a second longer, and he might¡ª ¡°Well, what¡¯s this, then?¡± a voice came from their left. They all whirled, turning to spot some decrepit but impressively jacked hobo with his hair reaching the back of his knees and his beard reaching all the way to his junk. [BOOK 3 FINALE] Chapter 161 - The Secret to Power (part 1) Freddy stood, wearing what could generously be called tattered rags. He didn¡¯t exactly have the time to change before coming here. He was caked in so much filth that he left a trail behind him as the rain washed off the years of grime that had gathered on his body. He eyed the crowd of visitors, squinting at the six people standing right before Travis. He recognized every single one of them. They were the faces of their respective factions. While he didn¡¯t know everything about their powers, he knew enough from rumors to at least know what to expect. Standing before the rather tense scene, he couldn¡¯t help but find himself hesitating. Not because he was afraid. More because he just felt annoyed. For him, it had been over a hundred years since he was last directly involved with this conflict. Caring about anything for that long was a tall ask. But it was surprising just how much he didn¡¯t give a shit. In fact, he was bordering on simply turning around and walking away. However, some of those old feelings were still there, faint as they were. His eyes glanced across the nervous mass of Valhalla members, their fear and expectation evident on their faces. Their grim determination. He couldn¡¯t help but sigh at the sight. Is this my fault¡­? he wondered, thinking of what Insanity had told him about his fate. How it would always, eventually, lead him to bloodshed. And bloodshed had arrived, indeed. Plenty of blood would be spilled in the forest today. So was it really him? His fate, his sick desire for an opportunity to stand out, was that what brought this to their door? He had no idea. He didn¡¯t know a single thing about how this fate thing even worked. Regardless, he felt some degree of responsibility for this situation. The longer he stood there, the more his seemingly frozen memories thawed, and the less distant he felt from the whole ordeal. Well, it wasn¡¯t like anyone would let him walk away, not anymore. Besides, he could hardly ignore an opportunity to build up some juicy latent aura. He smiled at the people present, waving at them. ¡°¡®Sup motherfuckers! Long time no see!¡± ¡°Oh, dear,¡± the leader of the Lapis Clan said as she covered her mouth. ¡°Can someone please get rid of this beggar? I can smell him from all the way over here.¡± Travis stared at him with an utterly bewildered expression. ¡°Freddy?¡± The man appeared lost for a moment, then he gestured at the beard and hair with a quizzical expression. Long story, Freddy mouthed. Once the six resident head honchos heard Travis address him, they immediately changed their attitude. ¡°Ah.¡± The leader of the Umbra Clan scoffed. ¡°So you must be Slave. Welcome. You¡¯re just in time for the negotiation.¡± The man looked him up and down with a quirked eyebrow. ¡°Before we continue,¡± Keagan Gem said as he stepped forward, slowly approaching Freddy. ¡°I have a few questions for you.¡± Freddy leaned his head to the side and waited for the man to speak. ¡°I have done my investigation and I¡¯m almost certain that I am right,¡± the man declared. ¡°But I still want to hear you admit it. Tell me¡±¡ªhis voice got raspy¡ª¡±are you related to the deaths of my sons?¡± Freddy maintained eye contact for a long moment. Then, he grinned. ¡°Related? Nah, man. I killed them myself.¡± The man snarled. ¡°If you¡¯re trying to take all the blame to save your little friends, don¡¯t bother. They¡¯ll get their dues, too.¡± ¡°Valhalla had nothing to do with it.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not talking about these people,¡± the man said. ¡°Huh?¡± Freddy blurted. ¡°Then who the fuck are you talking about?¡± ¡°Stop playing dumb. The one who goes by Skull and the assassin.¡± Freddy¡¯s brain froze for a long moment. While his memory was exceptionally good, it still took some effort to recollect stuff that had happened over a century ago. They seemed to have connected him to his Skull pseudonym somehow, which he wasn¡¯t too happy about. At least they didn¡¯t realize that he and Skull were the same person. But¡ª The assassin? What is this guy smoking? Then it hit him. The man was talking about Bloodshed. Once he realized it, he couldn¡¯t hold back a laugh. The man¡¯s scowl deepened. ¡°Something funny?¡± ¡°I just remembered something my buddy uh¡­ Skull said this morning. But don¡¯t worry,¡± he said, waving a hand dismissively. ¡°Me? Defend those guys? Come on, Skull is out here constantly trying to ruin my life, and I have a bone to pick with the other guy. So don¡¯t worry. I¡¯m not gonna embellish anything.¡± His grin grew sinister. ¡°I really did kill your sons. ¡°I ambushed Lucas in the woods and crushed his skull.¡± He chuckled. ¡°You saw that much yourself. But Shawn? Man, I¡¯m proud of that one. He was on his way to Fortress Dungeon. I approached him with a friendly wave. We¡¯d met before, you see, during a run. He probably thought we could become friends.¡± The man¡¯s jaw clenched. Freddy kept provoking the man. ¡°He didn¡¯t see it coming. Spear, right in the head,¡± he poked his temple with a finger. ¡°Then I folded him up like a doll and put him in my storage ring.¡± Then, as if suddenly remembering something, he added, ¡°Ah, and of course, his organs sold for a pretty penny.¡± Keagan was breathing heavily at this point. ¡°I see.¡± He raised his hand and snapped a finger. One of the suited men walked over to the SUV, then dragged someone out. Whoever they were bringing over had a bag over their head. Once they got close, they removed the bag, revealing a young man underneath. Freddy slowly sighed at the sight, shaking his head. Lucas stared at him, pale as bone. Freddy looked him in the eye. The emotions he felt towards the young man were still there, but they were distant, faded, like a gray picture on a wall. ¡°This is why I told you not to let her go anywhere, Lucas. I knew this would happen. You should have known better.¡± The young man hung his head in shame, unable to meet Freddy¡¯s gaze. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, man.¡± He laughed sadly. ¡°I¡¯m an idiot. I can¡¯t believe I¡±¡ªhe choked¡ª¡±I¡­¡± For his part, Freddy looked over at Keagan and shrugged. ¡°If you¡¯re here to use him as a hostage, you might as well kill him right now. I¡¯m not gonna surrender.¡± The man chuckled darkly. ¡°Surrender?¡± He pulled his coat off and threw it to the ground. Then, he tore the shirt underneath, revealing a layer of tight, black, synthetic armor. He slowly took the vambrace off his left arm and then put it away into his storage ring. ¡°I don¡¯t want you to surrender.¡± He took off the other vambrace. ¡°No abilities. No weapons. No armor.¡± He took off his vest, then unzipped his body suit, revealing his chiseled upper body, then took a threatening step forward. ¡°I challenge you to a brawl. If you win,¡± he said with a mocking grin, ¡°I¡¯ll let your buddy go.¡± ¡°You want a fist-fight?¡± Freddy snorted. ¡°No abilities? Really?¡± The man smashed his fists together. It sounded almost as if two rocks were colliding. ¡°I want to take my time beating you to death!¡± ¡°And how do I know you¡¯re not gonna cheat?¡± ¡°Cheat?¡± the man sputtered with a disbelieving chuckle. ¡°You think I have a reason to cheat? Well aren¡¯t you confident¡­?¡± ¡°That would be my job,¡± an assuming man said from the side, and Freddy noticed him for the first time since he arrived. ¡°Nice to meet you, Mr. Cliff. I am your local adjudicator. Feel free to set the terms of your fight as you please. It is my duty to ensure that the losing party upholds their end of the deal. Naturally, this also pertains to the rules of the match.¡± ¡°Not that it makes any difference,¡± Keagan said while loudly cracking his knuckles, ¡°but my talent only works on my abilities. So what do you say?¡± Freddy frowned. He was more than glad to let this moron kill himself via Freddy, but that didn¡¯t mean he trusted the adjudicator to be the judge. He looked over to Travis. Travis for his part looked white as snow, but as he noticed Freddy looking at him, he walked over. ¡°Okay¡­¡± The man said as he took a deep breath. ¡°Thank you for coming. Really. Just ignore him. He¡¯s trying to provoke you into a fight to get you off the negotiation table. With you here, we might be able to eke out better terms.¡± ¡°The adjudicator,¡± Freddy said, moving his gaze between the unassuming man and Travis. ¡°Will he do as he says?¡± This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it Travis seemed confused for a long moment. ¡°What do you mean?¡± Freddy leaned in. ¡°Will the adjudicator be a fair judge?¡± Travis¡¯s lips trembled and he breathed heavily through his nose. ¡°Don¡¯t. Please don¡¯t. I know you¡¯re strong, but you¡¯re not his match. He¡¯s a martial artist, and he is specialized in defense. You won¡¯t even be able to hurt him. This is a trap.¡± ¡°Will he? Or won¡¯t he?¡± ¡°Freddy, please.¡± Travis grabbed him by his long beard. ¡°Thor is dead!¡± He pointed at the crowd of people in front of Valhalla¡¯s headquarters. ¡°Every single fucking person there is betting on us. This isn¡¯t the time to be stupid.¡± He released Freddy¡¯s beard and tried to force a smile. ¡°Look. I can tell you did¡­ something. But you¡¯re also still just a two-star.¡± His forced smile died. ¡°I am happy you¡¯re here. I am glad to know you¡¯re a man Thor was right to trust. ¡°But it will be a goddamn miracle if we can even make it out of here alive. So please. Cooperate with me.¡± Freddy sighed. He raised his hand and gestured with his index finger for Travis to come closer. Travis frowned and leaned it. Freddy slapped him across the face. Travis reeled and then glared at Freddy. ¡°What the fuck, man?¡± ¡°Just shut up and answer my question.¡± For a long moment, the man stood there holding his face, which was cycling through a frenzy of conflicting expressions. Eventually, he settled on anger and growled. ¡°Yes! You can trust the adjudicator!¡± ¡°That¡¯s all I needed to know,¡± he said as he pushed Travis aside and stepped forward. Travis¡¯s face twisted in despair as he cried out, ¡°You won¡¯t win!¡± Freddy paused and turned around. Whatever look he had in his eyes made Travis freeze. Then he turned around and stepped before his opponent. He conjured a small, razor-sharp blade in his right hand and cut off most of his beard and hair, shortening them enough to not pose a liability in the fight. Several people snickered at the sight of him. With the crude way he cut his hair, he probably looked like a plucked chicken at that moment. The adjudicator stepped forward. ¡°The rules of the duel are as follows: there will be no use of abilities, weapons, drugs, medicine, or any kind of equipment bar civilian clothing; the fight will continue until the death of one party or mutually agreed upon surrender; no third parties will get involved. That being said¡±¡ªhe looked at Freddy¡ª¡±Mr. Cliff, please remove the blood-affinity cursed ring from your finger.¡± Freddy nodded. He completely forgot about his ring. Thankfully, during his hundred years of boredom, he had figured out a way to easily take it off. He focused for a moment, feeding it a bit of his blood. It seemed to almost purr in satisfaction, and then it released the grip on his bone, allowing him to take it off without losing a finger. He stored it in his storage ring. The adjudicator nodded. ¡°Mr. Gem. What are your demands in the scenario of your victory?¡± Keagan sneered. ¡°I¡¯m happy enough seeing this bastard die.¡± ¡°Mr. Cliff, do you agree to these terms?¡± Freddy nodded. ¡°All right. Mr. Cliff. What are your demands in the scenario of your victory?¡± Freddy pondered it momentarily, his eyes lingering on the tied-up Lucas. Then, he eyed the adjudicator. He smiled, raising his finger and pointing it straight towards Gina and Tanner Gem, who were standing not too far behind Keagan. ¡°If I win, I¡¯m going to kill them, too. Just the way I killed Jason and Shawn.¡± Keagan¡¯s expression darkened. ¡°What did you just say?¡± ¡°You heard me.¡± The man growled and then chuckled. ¡°You must be one hell of a fucking masochist. You¡¯re going to suffer for this one.¡± ¡°What?¡± Freddy took an intimidating step forward, getting right into the man¡¯s face. He was a little shorter than the man, but he showed no fear as he whispered, ¡°Scared you might lose?¡± ¡°Should I remind you that I¡¯m holding your friend¡¯s life in my hands?¡± the man said, pointing a thumb over his shoulder at the tied-up Lucas. ¡°You¡¯re also going to free him.¡± ¡°No. I¡¯m going to kill him unless you take your stupid joke back!¡± ¡°Then do it!¡± Freddy said, getting even closer, close enough to kiss the man. ¡°But you won¡¯t get your damn duel. And you won¡¯t get your satisfaction.¡± He grinned. ¡°It shouldn¡¯t matter what I bet if you¡¯re gonna win anyway¡­ unless you think you won¡¯t.¡± The man met his gaze for a few agonizing moments. Then, he broke into laughter and stepped back, wagging a finger. ¡°You have a talent for pulling people¡¯s nerves. In a different life, we¡¯d have been friends.¡± Freddy shook his head. ¡°No we wouldn¡¯t.¡± ¡°Whatever you say, sweetheart.¡± He turned around and waved at his kids. ¡°Accept the terms. It¡¯s fine.¡± The adjudicator turned to face them. ¡°Gina and Tanner Gem. Do you agree to these terms?¡± Looking rather shaken, the two of them swallowed and, with agonizing reluctance, nodded their agreement. The adjudicator nodded and shouted, ¡°Everyone else, please step back. I will not be responsible for anyone who gets accidentally injured. And you two, get into position. Get at least twenty paces away from one another. When you both declare you¡¯re ready, I will begin the countdown.¡± They both stared at each for a long moment. Keagan raised his thumb and moved it across his throat in a threatening gesture. Freddy blew him a kiss and smiled. Then, they turned around to get into position. ¡°Are you ready?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Freddy said. ¡°I¡¯m ready,¡± Keagan said. ¡°On the count to ten!¡± The adjudicator started counting down. ¡°Ten! Nine! Eight! Seven! Six! Five! Four! Three! ¡°Two! ¡°One! ¡°Begin!¡± The adjudicator leaped back to make space for them. For their part, Freddy and Keagan slowly approached one another, raising their guards and carefully observing their opponent. Then, they leaped. Freddy threw a straight, and Keagan ducked, throwing a punch at his midsection, which Freddy dodged by fluidly twisting out of the way. Keagan kicked Freddy¡¯s shin, and Freddy chose to tank the hit in return for a punch to the side of the man¡¯s face. Both strikes landed almost perfectly. Neither did any damage. They disengaged, raising their guards and charging at each other again. This time, Freddy leaned harder into it, taking a risk to throw a hook. Keagan dodged, jabbing in turn, which Freddy tanked in turn for a kick to the man¡¯s ribs. Neither strike did any damage. They both backed away for a moment and then charged again. Their fists met mid air, almost sounding like a giant log smashing into a boulder, and on the rebound, they threw a hook right at each other¡¯s face, landing both strikes. Neither did any damage. They backed away, Freddy looking a little surprised, and Keagan looking utterly bewildered. 1% Lifesteal came with the subtle but significant advantage of feedback. Freddy could always tell how much damage his strikes were doing. Keagan wasn¡¯t pretending to be untouched. He really just didn¡¯t suffer any damage. Keagan, meanwhile, looked shocked as hell. ¡°Bastard.¡± He spat. ¡°What the hell are you made of?¡± Freddy chuckled. ¡°I could ask you the same thing.¡± ¡°No the fuck you couldn¡¯t!¡± the man shouted. ¡°I¡¯m a three-star. Water, earth, metal. It¡¯s not a mystery why I¡¯m durable. What¡¯s up with you?¡± Water, earth, and metal. At the second star onwards, that was likely the single most common combination of three affinities. Water and earth were by far the most common among the basic affinities, and metal was the more likely advanced affinity than ice. Although common, this was a powerful combo that was often referred to as the ¡°golden trio of durability.¡± Stone Skin. Metal Bones. Turbulent Waters-slash-Hundred Wet Hells. It was the whole package when it came to defense. For Freddy to be able to rival him without a dedicated talent, and at a star below the man at that, was a testament to just how much heavy lifting his Ten Thousand Wet Hells was doing. It was technically Hundred Thousand Wet Hells now, but he hadn¡¯t yet used it even once, so he was still only at the peak Ten Thousand Wet Hells level of durability. And it was already monstrous. Freddy simply smiled at the man and raised his guard again. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re getting scared.¡± The man chuckled. ¡°I bet you¡¯re taking more damage than you¡¯re showing.¡± ¡°I guess you¡¯ll have to find out.¡± They charged at each other again. The crowds were looking on with bewilderment, especially Travis. Nobody had expected this fight to be anywhere near this close. And it was one thing for Keagan¡¯s defense to be impressive. But Freddy¡¯s show of force was making some people very, very nervous. Especially Gina and Tanner. While Freddy could match the speed of the man¡¯s attacks, he wasn¡¯t nearly as nimble due to the difference in body density. Keagan jumped and leaped around, and as he warmed up, he got fancier with his attacks, dashing behind Freddy¡¯s back and throwing kicks from odd angles. For his part, Freddy defended and redirected while looking for ways to counterattack. All those fights against the shadow monster thing hadn¡¯t gone to waste. He had become vastly better at fighting. His defense was nigh-impenetrable. He picked good moments to counterattack, catching the man off guard but still failing to do any real damage. There was no point in going hit for hit. At this rate, the fight would come down to who starved to death first. Keagan tried picking away at Freddy, but with every strike, his expression grew more serious. They pulled away again, and as if reading each other¡¯s minds, they unfurled their fists. Cautiously, like two snakes, they slithered closer to each other and sent out probing grabs while slapping the other man¡¯s hands away. From an outside perspective, it looked a bit ridiculous, almost like they were playing some sort of game. But this was no game. The outcome of the fight would likely come down to who grabbed who first. And while Freddy had plenty of practice with the shadow, the man clearly had an upper hand here. He caught Freddy by the wrist, and thankfully, Freddy immediately reacted with a frontal kick to his chest, tearing himself out of the man¡¯s grip. Suddenly, Keagan changed his whole strategy, roundhouse kicking Freddy¡¯s chin, and the unexpected blow landed perfectly, dislocating Freddy¡¯s jaw. Freddy stepped back and Keagan pressed the attack, to which Freddy responded by keeping his cool, reasserting his guard and pushing the man back. When he found a moment, he pushed his jaw into place, and it cracked with a horrifyingly loud sound. ¡°Got me good with that one,¡± he said. ¡°Cracks are starting to show,¡± Keagan declared, grinning like a wild animal. He launched another attack, seemingly pushing Freddy to the limit. Although it was raining, obscuring sweat, it was evident that Freddy was struggling to maintain his defense. Punch by punch, kick by kick, his guard appeared to whittle away. Travis looked on with a broken heart. His eyes slowly closed and he sighed in despair. He had known this would happen. But seeing it slowly play out before his eyes was like a nightmare. Keagan was cautious, but obviously eager to jump in and grab a hold of Freddy. Then finally, Freddy failed to raise his arm in time, and Keagan leaped in to grab it. He got hold of Freddy, and a sympathetic wince washed over the whole crowd. They were about to watch a massacre. Keagan¡¯s grin widened rapidly as he twisted to knock Freddy off his feet and get him in a chokehold on the ground. But he couldn¡¯t pull hard enough. The man¡¯s alarm was apparent, and he looked at Freddy with wide eyes as he realized that was completely losing the contest of strength. And then, Freddy suddenly grabbed his wrist. In an instant, Freddy¡¯s panicked, desperate look vanished, replaced by a grin of pure mockery. ¡°Thought you had me, huh?¡±