《The Earthen Immortal》 Chapter 1 - Im Awake In all my years, I''ve been asked many questions. Far too many to remember all but the biggest. The one that has stayed with me for the longest time, and kept me up the most nights, is one I was asked by my fourteenth or fifteenth husband on... well, I can''t exactly remember when. I just remember his remorseful expression as he asked. "Dearest, when your life flashes before your eyes, which life do you see?" At the time, I had laughed off the question and given him a simple answer that would ease his mind. He was one of the few that I had told my secret to. And for good reason. I lived that particular life for twenty years. It was one of the longest still to date. And I loved him. We were happy together. Yet I told him the answer I tell others when they ask. "I see the life that has meant the most to me. And it''s always the one I had been living up until then." In all honesty, that wasn''t entirely true. Sure, some lives have meant so much to me that I reminisce about the highs and lows even centuries later. Maybe I met someone. Maybe I made something of myself before I was discovered and killed. But every time I die, by bullet or blade, water or fire, and even the rope a few times, I always spend my last breath lost in the memories of my body. And then my mind is whisked away and I wake up somewhere new. Same time, same mind, different place, different body. I don''t remember when I was born, or what I was exactly until the cycle began. After almost two millennia, the early stuff kind of merges into a dark blur. Even as I sit here, letting alcohol poison me to death, it''s hard to remember a life worse lived than my most recent. Perhaps the times of the witch hunters. I may be able to laugh grimly at what went down, but I was tortured to death eight times in the space of two years. Some cosmic fuck-up led to me living eight female lives in a row in the same muddy country. And every time, by coincidence or curse, I was accused and captured. It was only when I died, then woke as a man that I could breathe easy, and I distanced myself from England for a long while after. That was one of the best lives. Compared to life now, it sorely lacked, but it wasn''t bad for the time. I married while in what would now be called Russia, and sired two sons. I lived with my wife for almost fifteen years before people noticed I still appeared in my early twenties. I might have convinced Katya to stay with me, and I would have raised my family in another place. Perhaps I would have even told her my truth. But fate didn''t deem that possible, and the locals burned the three of them as they slept while I was collecting wood for the morning. They were simple people, and I knew the distrust I would bring I didn''t blame them too much. I just wished they hadn''t forced me to watch my house burn and hear my family die before they let me run inside in a futile attempt to save them. Despite the agony I died in, I was satisfied. It is something I can''t say for many of my lives, but when I deem my life a good one, I hold it dearer to me. These are the lives that I see the most when I die. Countless lives, countless places, too many lovers to count, and more memories than I can handle. Shouting pulls me from the well of memories. There''s a countdown starting in the street outside. In my drunk state, I struggle to remember why. The street will tell me. I finish my drink, completely unaware of what I''m even drinking. I ease myself off the broken sofa I''ve been sleeping and stumble close to the balcony of my crappy apartment. The street lies far below me. Lights reach me along with the chanting count and I have to shove open the sliding door to get through. "Mmmnnnyeah. New year. Heh." New years was a favourite holiday of mine once upon a time. I think it used to remind me of my progress and achieving a milestone. I didn''t celebrate a birthday, so I often considered new years eve to be a birthday party for me. For a few lives, I even advertised it as such. But the life I was living now, not this time. I looked down, not at the street, but at myself. A dirty and torn party dress I had bought from a charity shop for Christmas. Almost a week later, and it, along with a bottle of whiskey, was all I had. My money had run out, my apartment was to be claimed on new years day, and I kicked out with it. "Ah well. Good run." The cold winter air begins to sober me up. I don''t like it. One deep breath and a curse aimed at the douche who sued me later, and I''m flying. In a distinctly downwards direction. The wind is nothing to me now. Death has lost all of its fearful holds over me, and in my darkest times, I think of it as more of a warm embrace. Time extends as I fall. My eyes close and above the cheering at the new millennium, someone screams, seeing me. But I don''t notice. My life begins to flash. It, not my current life, thank goodness. It isn''t the one before that, nor before that. Just like my last two deaths, I remember the eighties I spent in America. Music festivals flash before me, one after another. Every popular artist I still listened to was truly born on one of those stages. Bright colours, loud music, handfuls of drugs and tents naked people. It wasn''t my most glamorous life, but it was one of the most fun. My final memory of that time and the last thing I see is the bag of pills that would cause me to overdose and die. Heh. Those were the times. There''s no impact, at least by then, my mind is long departed. Darkness surrounds my consciousness just like usual, and a red counter phases into existence above me. Dramatically slowly, the last digit rolls over, displaying the new total. Death Count: 1000 I can never remember the time I spend between lives unless I''m currently between them. Hence why I didn''t do anything big for my thousandth life. I just didn''t remember. Surprisingly enough, instead of the numbers retreating like normal and then me waking up in a new body, they began to swirl and smear. The material that made them up was shuffling itself around and forming new words.
Title Earnt
The Cause
Would you like to set this as your active title? I have no way of talking to the words, I have tried in the past, but the ability to speak always eluded me. Whatever kept my mind in this cycle had never told me anything. So I think, instead. Sure. A title sounds cool. I had been knighted once, but being called "Sir" got old very quick. "The Cause" on the other hand sounds incredibly cool. Regardless of whatever I was now causing. The words begin to fade, and after a few seconds, they''re gone. What now? Expecting a change in routine, I''m sorely mistaken as I suddenly, and very painfully thud onto concrete. Nothing hurts too badly, but one look upwards causes me pain. My eyes are scrunched up tightly as the sun is rising and it stings. I''m used to various parts of me hurting vaguely when I respawn, but the eyes are always the worst at adjusting. I smile to the ground while shading my face, finding my use of the word respawn hilarious. It was something I had only picked up in one of my recent lives. It was funny that after almost a thousand deaths, only then would someone invent a publicised word that completely captures it. I''m kicked lightly in the side. It still hurts and I let out a low but very female groan. Three women in a row. Hope it''s a guy next time. The body is easier. "C''mon. Get up. You have a hard night last night?" The voice is gruff. English language. American accent. Probably an old guy. Most likely homeless. It''s a habit I''ve picked up to analyse my first sensations of each life like this. My body comes naturally equipped to be fluent in the natural tongue, so it''s not like I''ve ever had to adjust. But I can carry over language and most other skills over each life. I can''t tell you how fun it is watching someone painstakingly decrypt ancient symbols on a tablet when you know it''s just a poorly phrased dick joke... because you were the one who carved it centuries ago. The kick comes a little harder again this time, and I reluctantly start to get up from hugging the sidewalk. "Ugh. I''m up." Once steady on my new feet, I look over at the kicker and happily realise I was right. The homeless guy looks me over, laughs, winks, then walks away with a trolley. I smile after him. Too many times I was homeless and in a similar situation. I guess I have a soft spot for them and why they keep trying to better their lives. I had done r once or twice when optimistic but usually ended up killing myself. It wasn''t an end-all solution for me, just a convenient reset. This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. I look down at myself, noting I''m dressed similarly to my previous body in Germany. A warm but loose fitting red party dress and a thick denim jacket. I''m wearing heels that are a good mix of comfortable and height. Looking around at my surroundings, I find I''m in some town square. I don''t recognise it, but by my best guess, it''s been almost fifty years since I was in America. I can''t be expected to navigate the world by memory. It''s a big place that''s constantly changing. The decorations do intrigue me though. Posters and boards advertising the year 2000 are everywhere. So that''s what the Germans were celebrating. But I''m off by a few hours. I''m not great at time zones, but I''m sure that if I just died in Germany at midnight, then there should still be several hours until midnight in America. I''m too far ahead. Far too far. This is different. Why has this happened? "Because I died a thousand times... I''m... The Cause?" I whisper to myself what has been nagging at the back of my mind. Every single time I''ve died, and every single time I''ve seen that counter, I remember. "I remember!" I clamp my hands over my mouth, my embarrassment brief but enough to make me react. Luckily, the area around me is more or less abandoned, and aside from a stray dog snuffling through the trash, I''m alone. But I remember. The darkness. The counter. The title. What am I the cause of? The only abnormal occurrence I could find was my being several hours further forwards than I should have been. A cry from behind me causes me to spin quickly. The old homeless guy who woke me up is crying for help. I''ve never been much of a humanitarian, but when someone is screaming in pain, I can''t resist. I kick off the heels to run to the old man. He has his back to me and is standing rigid, trembling as he turns to me. A sword is sticking out of his chest. I''ve seen so many people die that I''m sure he will join them soon. He''s trying to pull the sword out, gripping the blade with his hands. It''s only cutting him more. I look past him regretfully and gasp. In front of him is an animated human skeleton wielding a bow, with a quiver of arrows over its shoulder. I hesitate, completely shocked by the sight, which is long enough for the undead nightmare to target me instead of the old guy. It fires an arrow at me before I can move. Its aim is poor, but I still catch a sharp metal head in my left forearm. "AUGHHH!" I''ve been hurt before, but any tolerance I think I''ve built up is blown away by the pain. I back away from the skeleton as it notches another arrow, and hide around the corner. "Ah. Shit. Oh shiiiiitttt." The arrow had pierced deep within my arm, likely stopping only when it hit the bone. My training I received as a wartime nurse, then surgeon kicks in and my uninjured arm moves quickly. I tear off the bottom few inches of my dress in a long strip. It was fashionably short before but is now just straight up immoral. I rapidly tie the strip around my arm above the entry wound and tie it tightly with my teeth. The previously seeping blood slows to a drip and I take a few deep breaths to try and control my hand. I have only a few minutes before I lose mobility, and not a whole lot longer before it causes permanent damage. But I don''t have enough clean material free to make a bandage and a far more pressing issue. I can hear the skeleton walking down the street towards me. The scraping rasping of its feet echoing along the empty streets. I look around for something, anything to use as a weapon to defend myself. There''s no one around to help, I haven''t got a phone to call for something. This is my only chance of survival. And after the time disparity of my last death, I''m not keen on finding out what happens this time. I''ve had to improvise a weapon before, but usually to kill an animal or even a person. I don''t really know how to kill a skeleton. However it''s currently animated, I''m lost on how to stop it. "Fuck it." I take off running across the square, in the opposite direction of the incoming skeleton. It''s a risky plan that puts me right in its effective range, but if I can''t fight it, I have to run. I run as fast as I can, stooping mid-sprint to pick up one of my discarded heels. It might not be sharp, but it''s a potential weapon if I''m pursued. I cross the square without being hit again. The skeletons aim is bad enough that any shots go wide. I duck away into a narrow gap between two buildings, aiming for the light of a larger street on the other side. Sidestepping through the small alley, I cry out as I step on some broken glass, vomit rising in my throat at the feeling of flesh separating. I stumble, but limp forwards, determined to reach the street. The sound of scraping bones far behind me causes me to gasp in fear, my heart thudding ever louder. The entire situation is too surreal for me and tears form in my eyes. Desperation and panic rise and my breathing grows ragged. The twang of string echoes down the alley, and I dive to the ground in reflex. The arrow aimed at my back skates off the brick wall at chest height, causing dust to fall on my head. In an instant, I''m up again, limping more as glass has embedded itself in my knees. Pain. Fear. Everything seems too much, but for the first time since I can remember, I don''t want to just roll over and die. It doesn''t feel right. An arrow lands deep in my right shoulder, effectively disabling my last fully functional limb. The force pushes the arrow clean through my shoulder, lodging halfway up the shaft. I fall again, landing on the bloodied head, twisting and grinding the surely shattered bones in my shoulder. "AAAAAAAAAUGHHH!" my mind flashes red, and the worst pain I''ve ever felt burns me. But I''m so close to the light. No one comes to my aid. No one is around to save me. My body grows weaker as more and more of my blood leaves through my assorted injuries. But I''m not dead yet. My right arm is useless, and any sort of movement brings fresh rounds of tears to my mind. But my left arm is still good up the elbow. I manage to push myself up to my knees and half-crawl, half-drag myself further forwards. Any pain in my legs is gone, and my body slowly goes numb. I''ve been in the situation enough to realise I''m in shock but fighting the instinct to lie down or tend to myself. Even if I die here, people have to know about the monster following me. A meter. Less. I''m seconds away from reaching the open street, and a passing hat ignites the hope in me. I smile briefly but double my efforts to expose the damage I''ve sustained. Moments before my hand escapes the shadows, the ground beneath me begins to soften and pale. "No. Ah! NO!" The concrete and bricks all around me take on the texture of quicksand and I slowly sink into the ground. In seconds, the area around me is bone white, and I''m submerged up to my neck. I take one final breath and hold it as the cold liquid concrete covers my head.
Death count: 100...1.0..1...01..0.1.....0...1.0 The counter seems unable to agree with itself. But it finally sets on 0. I assume it doesn''t count as a real death because of the supernatural magic bullshit that caused it. It''s curious though. I didn''t feel the same sensations of drowning that I had become familiar with during my Salem years. The darkness waits around me. My death counter remains at 1000 and fades away.
Feat Unlocked
Earthen Immortal
Earthen Immortal
You have pulled yourself into another world through insurmountable sacrifice. You have lived through more years than you can count. Your achievements in life have earnt you a change in routine. Live a new series of lives in a new world.
Effect: Infinite respawns in Leden
The oddly blue messages in the boxes fade before I can read them entirely, but I get the gist of it. I wait in the darkness for something to change, my mind stunned by the apparent achievement I have gained. I am the Earthen Immortal. Chapter 2 - Im a Mercenary The messages confuse me, floating around as a disembodied mind. I''m in a new world? It makes sense. A world that has magically moving skeletons is certainly different from my own. After the feat message disappears, I''m left in darkness again. Instead of a dull few seconds though, I feel an intense acceleration. Shooting through the darkness faster than my human body has ever travelled before, I wonder if my mind alone can vomit. But the sensation stops, and I''m suddenly on hard ground again, in a new body. Its dark, and there''s no pressure on my closed eyes. Sounds of conflict and explosions reach me, but the noise is muffled. It doesn''t matter to me, because the nightmare is over. Or so I thought. In an instant, all the pain from my encounter in America is back. The glass shards in my soles and knees, the arrow wounds in my arm and shoulder. "Ugh....why?" Almost pathetically, I begin to curl up, just letting the growing numbness take me. In my body''s last moment, I ease open my eyes, wanting to see what''s around me. True to the words I saw in the darkness, I''m no longer on earth. The sounds of conflict that sounded far away actually surround me. My body shutting down must have caused the muffling. More skeletons like the one that attacked me clash with humans wielding huge swords. In the sky above them, a storm rages. There is no rain, but thick clouds obscure the sun, and flashes of lightning streak across the sky. A young man breaks off from swinging his sword desperatelythrough skeletons and runs in my direction, only to trip over me, landing a heavy kick in my stomach. "Ughhhh....." I groan at the fresh pain, vowing to hate whoever it was that did that for however much longer I have. "Oh shit. You''re alive. HEY MEDIC! I GOT A LIVE ONE!" His concern for me is brief before he calls over help. Hope ignites in me once again. A healer. Someone who can take me from this battlefield. Another man runs over from another direction. I don''t have the energy to move my head at all, but from the corner of my eye, I can see the arm of a scarlet uniform. Its a stark contrast from the black that the rest of the human soldiers wear. "Ok. Kid, what are her injuries?" "Um. Arrow wound in her shoulder. I think a stab wound on her arm... cuts on her legs, I think from a shatter spell. A lot of blood loss, and... I kicked her in the stomach." "Tch. Useless. But what is she wearing? Never mind. Help me get her onto the stretcher." Hands begin to work over me, easing me onto a softer and less muddy surface. I''m lifted and moved quickly away from the fight. The face of the young man who found me pops into my vision. But it''s blurred slightly. I don''t have long left. "Don''t worry, we''ll get youtonics in a second. And then you''ll be back on the field." What? I try to protest, but I can''t feel my limbs and the darkness overtakes me in moments.
My eyes open before I can think about whether I want them to. I''m in a pale imitation of a hospital bed with a dark green blanket over me. Its similar to the beds I used when I fought or healed in Vietnam in the ''50s and 60''s. I''m exhausted, but my mind is racing, refusing to let me rest. I push myself into a sitting position. There are a series of other beds in the room, eighteen altogether. Every single one is being used, and every occupant is asleep. On a small stool next to me, there''s a wooden cup filled with a light green liquid and a long note next to it. I realise how thirsty I am, and wonder how long I''ve been asleep. I down the drink they gave me, and instantly lose any fatigue in my body. It''s like the world''s strongest coffee, but instead of a flavour I could never get over, it merely tasted... green. Freshly invigorated, I slip out of the bed, noting I''ve been dressed in a plain grey gown that''s at least two sizes too big on me. "What... on... earth." I speak slowly, relishing in the painless body I''m in. It occurs to me that nothing hurts, and I feel where I had been injured. The hole in my shoulder, the deep wound in my arm. There''s no sign of either. No scarring, no stitches, nothing. Briefly, I think I''m in another body, but one look at a lock of my hair confirms I''m not. Bright red curls occur rarely. After the moment of awe is over, I wonder how long I actually have been asleep. For the injuries I''ve sustained to have healed so perfectly would have taken weeks. But I don''t have the answers, so I consult the note left next to my bed. Annoyingly enough, I can''t read it. The people here seem to speak English, but they certainly don''t write it. With a sigh at the inconsistency of this world, I grab the note and get up, aiming to find someone who can read it. I poke the face of the man in the bed next to me. Like me, he seems to have no injuries on him and he is dressed in the same gown. Unlike me though, he seems unable to wake up. I shake his shoulder to no effect. None of the others in the room wakes up either. But I''m nervous about wandering this building. I can''t imagine I''m too far from the fighting. A society that still uses swords probably doesn''t have access to motorised vehicles. On the other hand, though, I''ve probably been out of it for long enough for them to take me anywhere. Suspicion and fear rise in my mind, but I quell it instantly. Whoever these people are, they rescued and healed me. I push open the door at the end of the long room and almost trip over someone sitting on a bench immediately outside. A young man, likely in his late teens is sleeping lightly, leaning against the wall. His crew-cut head is bowed into the high collar of his black trench coat. It was the staple uniform of the soldiers. Although they didn''t really seem like a military. The only thing he was lacking was the modern looking black helmet and the massive sword each wielded. He woke up, mostly due to me almost falling over his legs. But also due to the door I le slam shit behind me. His face lit up when he saw me. And he stood up quickly. "You''re awake! Ok. Um hi... I''m Michael. Soldier 317-M. I was the one who found you and got the medic and... um... kicked you. And I just wanted to say sorry for that, so... sorry. It was a heat of the battle thing, and I didn''t expect to see a living injured that close to the fighting. Especially anyone who had survived having their implants torn out." I stare blankly at him. His voice was vaguely familiar, but without the helmet, I hadn''t recognised him. Nervously, he continues while I stare. "And you are?" I stiffen and my eyes widen slightly. Oh shit. I never picked a name. My mind races for a name that would suit the time and place. But as I don''t know the time or place, I draw a blank. "Um... Ventra. I''m Ventra Cass." He doesn''t seem convinced, but I smile warmly and he blushes a little. I silently thank my luck that my current body is a real looker. Its easier to bluff my way out of an awkward or even dangerous situation if I''m hot. "Hey Michael, could you do me a little favour?" He seems surprised but nods earnestly. "Sure, if I can help." "Can you read this?" He looks really surprised, but he takes the paper I offer and reads it out loud. "To unknown 397-F, a stamina tonic has been provided for your consumption intended for your hasty recovery upon awakening. As soon as you are able, follow the provided directions to the quartermaster to receive your replacement clothing and weapon. He will direct you to the surgeon for replacement implants and a status evaluation. And its got the directions to the supply offices. And it''s from the Lancers Second Lieutenant. High honour. Hey, are you okay? Ventra?" He shakes my shoulder a bit to get a response, but I have far too much going on in my head to pay attention to the friendly teen. "Um. Yeah... just need to think for a second. I don''t really remember the fight, is all." "Yeah, about that. Why were you dressed like that? I get that you, um, looked nice, but why if you had no defensive enchantments?" Enchantments? Well, that''s a word I haven''t encountered since the age of knights. Is this similar? I needed to think, but I was falling into a rut. "We can talk as we go." "Go where?" I point at the note insistently. "To the quartermaster. I don''t know what the directions say." He''s taken aback completely. But he motions for me to follow and I let him lead me. He keeps talking as we go through. "So what were you doing on the field like that?" I don''t know how to answer that in a way he might expect, so I throw caution to the wind and answer honestly. "I don''t really know. I don''t know how I got there. I just... woke up injured and dying." "So you don''t remember anything?" I see my way out of any difficult questions and grab on with both hands. "Not really. Just my name. And... Yeah, that''s it. Just my name." "Huh. Well whatever caused it must have been a high level. Especially since you''re a high level too. I couldn''t even read your status. Let alone surviving without any armour and without a weapon? Damn. What level are you actually?" I stop, completely unsure of how to answer. And even more unsure of what he means. "What do you mean my level?" He sees that I stopped and looks back with a frown. "For Alo''s sake. You really don''t remember anything, do you?" Disregarding whatever or whoever Alo was, I shake my head sadly. "Go like this." He makes an ''x'' motion over his heart. His eyes seem to then focus on something in front of him I can''t see, then he makes a long diagonal sweep and focuses on me again. Completely puzzled, I copy him. As soon as I''ve made the ''x'' over my heart, a transparent blue square appears in front of my eyes. White text and borders slowly fade into sight. The entire square fits inside my vision so that I can look around and focus on a certain area without moving my head. When I do move my head though, the square follows it. "Woah." "Damn. You must have really gone through the wringer there. I wonder what could have done that to you." I ignore the comment made and focus on the words.
Name: Ventra Cass (The Cause)
Hp: 30/30 (6.1%) Species: Human (Immortal)
Mp: 930/930 (6.1%) Level: 0 (0%)
Class: (none)
Body: 3 Mind: 93 (+) Soul: 610 (+)
Perks: (none)
Skills: (none)
Spells: (none)
I read through the information I''m given. Not a lot of it makes sense. "What is all this?" Michael sighs, it finally dawning on him how little I know. "So the name and species parts should be obvious. If there''s something in the brackets after your name, that''s your title. And if you have something in brackets after your species, that''s a modifier of sorts." "Ok. So my name was right. And I''m... just a human." Michael whistled, surprised. "Pure human? That''s rare. Most of us are part something. I''m part wood-elf. It''s not a big part really. My great, great... something was a wood elf. So the blood is diluted, but I still get a small boost to my mana." "About that. What is mana? And what does it mean by health." "Well, first of all, your health is a measure of the damage you can take before you die. The mana is a measure of magic energy your body has. Again, it''s how much you can use. But if you run out of mana, you just have some pretty savage debuffs." "Ok..." I was still looking at my health and mana values. My health seemed far too low. But my mana was almost thirty times as high. Michael went on, stopping me from dwelling on the values for too long. "Your class is a... um... I don''t really know how to explain what one is. You get to choose one as soon as one of your stats goes over twenty five. You can unlock access to more depending on your stats, perks and what you have or where you are. Someone with a military title can even give you a class. Oh, and your own title can give you access to new ones too. But being given one? That''s how most people here became mercenaries." "So what does a class do?" "Oh yeah! A class grants skills and spells to help you with whatever the class is aimed for. As a mercenary, I have some combat skills, a couple spells that buff me and one that can heal myself in an emergency. What''s your class by the way?" Shit. There''s no way out of it. I don''t know what to say to him so I just go with the truth. "I don''t have a class." "Oh? That''s odd. But I guess at your level you have the classless perk?" "Um..." I pretend to look through my status, wishing we were almost at the quartermaster''s office. Something answered my wishes. "Ah! We''re here. I''ll tell you more about the stats and stuff on the way to the surgeon." Completely forgetting the question and my lack of an answer, Michael turns to look at me and gives a reassuring smile. "Don''t worry about QM Dean. He''s a right bastard but he''s usually not too bad on the higher levels. Especially ones who um..." He coughed to cover up the comment he was about to make and pushed open the doors. To contrast the light green corridors we had been traversing, the warehouse we had just entered was all silver. The ceiling rose far above me, several stories high. Crates stacked up against every wall, most with the same text I couldn''t understand. There are so few people in this titanic room that I wonder about itsspecific purpose. Then I wonder how it''s so bright. "Hey, Michael. Where''s the light coming from?" Unlike the corridors that had overhead lights behind a clear barrier, the silver room had no clear source of light. "Um. I''m not sure. The entire base is powered by various mana crystals. And I know they light up the rooms and stuff, but I don''t actually know in here. Maybe QM Dean has a spell. He''s a pretty high level merchant." He starts to walk towards the centre of the room, where another pile of crates sits. It appears small, but as we walk over in nervous silence, it gets bigger and bigger until what I thought would be up to my waist towers over me. A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. I stare in awe at the storey tall crates, appearing larger than storage containers. Michael starts to laugh and attempts to stifle it when I look over at him in confusion. "I forgot about the spells here. It''s a mix of illusion and transmutation magic. It''s a weird loophole, but it lets us store way more than we should be able to in any room. Come on, the entrance is this way." I''m fairly well versed in the classes of magic, at least in the way the earthen magicians knew of it. My experiences later in the technological age of the late 1900s told me otherwise. Michael leads me around the corner of the nearest container and into another which is missing its end panel. The interior is still somehow lit up despite no obvious source. At the far end of the container we''ve entered, which inexplicably seems even bigger inside, is a large man sitting at a simple wooden desk, scrawling on some paper with a quill. When I say large, I mean large. Even from the distance, I can still tell he far surpasses six feet. He doesn''t seem overly fat, but I do notice a pot-belly. He''s bald too. I''m about to ask Michael about him, but a slight nudge and a subtle shake discourages me. I''m suddenly wary of this large man. He looks up at the sound of us approaching and huffs loudly. He goes back to his scratchy writing and makes us wait a minute before putting his quill into the ink well and taking off a small pair of spectacles. "Well?" His voice is powerful, it stuns me. Luckily, Michael doesn''t seem affected and answers for me. "This is unknown 397-f. She''s in need of a complete resupply." He looks me over with scorning eyes. I remain frozen, resisting the impulse to cross my arms over my chest. "So what''s the situation? I have the clothes you were found in. Any enchantments on them were long gone. They''re pretty much a lost cause." Michael keeps up his useful streak and answers again. "Likely an amnesia case. Something high level knocked her, tore her implants, likely presumed her dead." The stony gaze softens significantly and he nods gently. "Tough break. I''ll give you what you need though. To survive an implant tear, you must have some stat that''s reached the hundreds." Using his finger, he draws a small circle over one end of his desk and whips it across to the other end in one smooth motion. The papers and writing equipment glow blue then disappear. In their place, a set of folded dark green cloth clothes, a black trench coat, the grey helmet, and a pair of boots and gloves appear. Dean stands, towering over me and motions to the clothes piece by piece, explaining them. "Everything you wear has self-cleaning enchantments. The scrubs have heat regulation, the boots a weight reducer, the gloves a physical strength multiplier, and the helmet works with your implants." He hands me the folded bundle of green and leans in. "The underwear you came in with was repaired and is in the scrubs. They''re brighter and better made than any I''ve seen before. Where did you get them?" I stare open-mouthed at the huge man who apparently has not only an interest but also a deep knowledge of feminine fashion. "Uh... I don''t know." He seems disappointed but understands how I wouldn''t know, given my totally real amnesia. But regardless of his disappointment, his goodwill is not stretched, and he indicates a section of container wall next to him. It swings open like a door at his motion. "Change in there. The clothes should fit you fine. Oh, and your underwear has the same cleaning and comfort enchantments as the rest." He puts the boots on top of the pile I held in my arms and gently pushes me towards the well lit changing room. There''s a shelf, a bench and a mirror that imitate the changing rooms of earth so well I wonder if I''ve somehow found my way back. But the door shuts behind me and I slowly change into my mercenary gear. I take a moment to wonder why I haven''t even considered fighting the flow. I could easily tell someone that I''m not from this world. They might not believe me, but I would still probably be taken away from this place. Then I realise that I''ve felt something the entire time since I woke up in the base. I''m excited to see what might happen next. This isn''t the way I have been excited when travelling, or excited to see where my next life will be. I''m excited about everything. I was growing bored of earth. I had seen everything that many had said it was worth seeing. But here? I was nothing. I knew nothing. A new world to see and explore. Somewhere I might not have to die so often. I leave the changing room in the scrubs that do fit far better than I would have expected. The bra I had on when I came to this world was a fancy one. It looked nice, but wasn''t the most comfortable. Whatever has been done to them though changed everything. My chest is now perfectly supported and looks great. An immediate mood improver. I silently hand the folded hospital gown to the quartermaster and he flicks his wrist, making it disappear instantly. "Does everything feel okay?" I stretch slightly. The cloth is slightly stretchy but warm and comfortable. "No complaints." He nods, satisfied and hands me the long coat. "I recommend you wear this at all times. We may be safe from the dead fuckers in here, but you never know when another merc wants to surprise you." I nod in fake agreement and shoulder it on. It''s heavy, but if it can keep me alive against a sword or arrow, I have no complaints. I put on the gloves too. They''re made of thin but tough leather, and as black as the coat. I flex my fingers, expecting to feel the supposed strength multiplier, but nothing feels out of the ordinary. Dean chuckles as he notices my mild surprise. "The enchantment only kicks in when it needs to. Speaking of, what''s your highest stat?" I pause and look over to Michael for assistance. "You saw that you have body, mind and soul? Which one has the highest number after it?" "Soul." I remembered my insanely high soul value compared to my body one. Dean seems surprised to hear that. I guess that most soldiers or mercenaries would have a better body than mind or soul. "Soul huh? Well, if you''re classless I imagine you would need to compensate somehow. No problem though! I don''t get to hand these out very often." He''s about to touch his desk again when I interrupt him. "Wait. How did you know I was classless?" Without hesitation, he indicates towards Michael. "This young man mentioned it while you were changing. I must admit, your circumstances seem very strange. But we can''t keep track of the thousands we keep here. As long as you fight the good fight, we can''t turn away the help." I nod idly. I''m not sure how to feel about Michael talking about me behind my back. Mostly because I''m not sure whether stuff like classes and perks is supposed to be private. Either way, I''ve made a statement, unintentionally or otherwise. At least Michael has the decency to look embarrassed. Dean clears his throat loudly, noticing the awkward tension I raised. "A-hem. Well. As I was saying, people who wield these are rare." He reached to his desk, and instead of drawing a symbol on the bare wood, he puts his hand flat on the surface, twists it, then pushes into the wood as if it were a liquid. He pulls out a huge scabbard from the desk, the large swords they all wield contained within. "This is a claymore blessed by Senca. Your soul stat feeds directly into its destructive power." "Oh." Is all I manage to say when I take it from him. After a moment of straining to keep it up, I suddenly find it weighs very little. Michael helps me strap the scabbard to my back. The trench coat has several useful slots that allow the straps to pass through and be secured tightly to my body. Despite how heavy the sword felt in my arms, I barely notice it on my back. Looking over my shoulder, I can''t even see it. "What? Where...?" Dean and Michael both laugh at my confusion. Thankfully though, Dean explains without prompting. "The scabbard itself has several enchantments. When worn, it''s completely weightless and hides itself, and whatever it contains. You can''t tell, but both this soldier and I are wearing one." He reached over his own shoulder and seemingly grasps thin air. Then he pulls, and a handle appears in is hand. He draws the huge sword halfway out and pushes it back. As soon as it''s solidly in the scabbard, it appears to become invisible again. "Woah." He beams at me, clearly starved of the opportunity to show off. "Cool right? Well, give it a try." He hands me three small beads. Each shines like a pearl. "Throw these on the ground outside the stack. They make weaker versions of the skeletal foot soldiers. Try out the power. Tell me how it goes." I nod and walk out into the shiny space of the warehouse. I idly wonder again why I''m doing what I''m doing. The only answer I can come up with is that I''m having fun. I''m being treated like a warrior, which is something I rarely got. And though my understanding of stats and what they mean is very limited, I''m sure having a high soul stat means the sword will be far stronger than I can imagine. I notice Michael and Dean have followed me out. I take a deep breath and draw the claymore with my right hand, holding the beads in my left. Despite the ridiculous size, the sword seems to weigh nothing, and as my grip on it tightens, I can almost feel it vibrating with power. I''ve wielded several swords before, so I begin in a fencers pose with the sword straight upwards. With my other hand, I gently toss the beads on the ground several meters ahead of me. When each hits the ground, it shatters and a white mist explodes from them. The mist condenses into white bones and three skeletons are whisked into existence. I''ve fought enemies before. I''ve faced down armies with a handful at my back. I may be out of practice, but this is a good refresher. The skeletons start towards me, their motions uncertain and jerky. In a flash, I''ve pushed the point of my sword straight through the chest of the nearest skeleton. Its bones shatter and it falls apart instantly. I return to my stance and wait for the next. Instead, both remaining skeletons charge me. I panic a little, unsure of how to manage them, but remember I''m wielding a blade significantly larger than my preferred rapier. With a single swing, I shear both enemies in two. A thin gold arc follows the sword and is launched away into the wall as I finish my swing. It doesn''t stop, or even slow, and slams into the far wall, shattering several of the stacked crates. Pieces of metal and cloth rain down from the carnage and my face turns white in both shock and fear. Guilty, I turn to see the reactions of my observers. Michael is in awe, but Dean has a much worse expression. He seems angry. Really angry. "I... uh... sorry. I didn''t mean to do that." Michael opens and closes his mouth several times, but no words come out. Dean finally speaks, and despite his anger, he speaks softly and slowly. There''s a definite edge to it though. "Why didn''t you tell me you were over 100 soul?" Helplessly, I shear the sword and answer as best I could. "I didn''t know. I didn''t think it was that important." Dean sighs and wipes his face with both hands. "Come on. You need a replacement. You... You could have gotten yourself hurt." We go back to his desk and before I even say anything, he removes the sword from my scabbard and drops it into his desk. The woo still appears Luke a liquid and the sword falls with almost no disturbance. Instead of pulling another one from the same place, he pushes a panel on the wall and the entire wall that was behind his desk rises. Behind is a more stereotypical armoury. He strides in confidently and I follow, utterly puzzled at what is happening. The entire armoury is filled with claymore hanging in stands. There must be hundreds of them in the room, and every single one looked the same to me. Dean sees some difference though and stops by a particular rack. When I catch up, he turns to me and puts his hand on my shoulder. "What''s your soul stat? And be honest with me. Please. Especially since you''ve forgotten all your training, you need the right sword." He notices my glance back at the door Michael stands behind, and my reluctance to say anything and leans in closer. "The soldier who came with you is outside. He can''t hear you. I am bound by my code to keep secrets. I couldn''t tell anyone, even if I wanted to." In my mind, my opinion of the large man increased considerably. Michael was right about him being nice despite appearances. "610." "By the power of Senca..." Dean takes a step back and looks at me in awe. "And... Your other stats?" I squirm, not sure how to explain why my body stat pales I comparison. "My mind is 93. And body... only 3." Concern rocks over his face. "That build makes no sense. You''re classless, but you have no strength to make up for it. A high magic capability, but no spells. And your soul... I don''t know." "Neither do I. Whatever I was doing on the battlefield, all I can do now is fight. Please, give me a sword." I play into the amnesia bit and throw fake passion into my voice. Dean takes the bit and looks at me with pity. In his eyes, I''m an anomaly. A curiously strong yet weak one. Almost sadly, he reaches for the sword on the end of the rack. He hands it to me hilt first, and when I hold the wrapped leather grip, a shock runs through my body. I''m frozen for a second as a feeling of... rightness washes over me. "I believe that past a certain point, there is one singular weapon destined to be wielded by each person. And I believe this sword is meant to be used by you. Those idiots probably gave you a mana sword in initiation. Probably why you got so messed up." There doesn''t seem to be anything extraordinary about the sword. Nothing that would help me distinguish it from any other. "That sword has a level 10 blessing of Senca. And a few other things. At that point, it counts as a legendary sword. And it''s yours. Be careful with it though. It is dangerous to use without any expertise in swordplay. I can tell you have some, but it won''t be enough. Train. Train as hard as you can. Or you might hurt someone." I carefully sheathe the sword and breath easily once I can no longer feel its weight on my back. "Thankyou quartermaster Dean. I won''t forget what you have given me." He chuckles and gives me a sly smile. "My dear, you will repay us well with that sword. Do not forget, you will fight until you need fight no more." His gaze has hardened, so I reciprocate and nod, looking as serious as I dare. Seemingly satisfied, he starts to leave the room and I follow. "I can''t let you test that in here. You would break far more than some scrap chests." I don''t answer. His remark about fighting weighs on me. With all the talk about being a mercenary, I had no doubt I would end up on the battlefield again. I would have plenty of chances to test my blade soon enough. I''ve decided. From this moment onwards, I''m a mercenary. Chapter 3 - Im a Marvel With my helmet in hand and my sword on my back, the kind quartermaster Dean dismisses Michael and me. It''s only when we reach a corridor on the other end of the warehouse that he breaks the silence. "What was that about? I''ve never seen that part of the armoury. What did he give you?" I smile at his rapid talking. In his mind, I must be becoming more confusing by the second. "He gave me a sword. One strong enough to correctly use my stats." Satisfied with the answer, Michael nods. "I won''t ask what your soul stat is, but is it really high enough that you need a custom sword?" I look up at him. Despite him being almost a foot taller than me, his young face is... envious. It''s rather cute. "Yeah. But I won''t bore you with the details. Can you tell me about stats though? You got interrupted earlier." He opens his mouth to argue but shuts it quickly. Resigning to his duty to explain, he tells me what I want to know. "Fine. So there are three base stats. Body, mind, and soul. The value next to each represents the measure of it. Most people are born with ones and twos in each, and as you level or fulfil certain criteria, you can improve them." He looks at me to see if I''m keeping up, and I nod for him to continue. It''s not hard to connect these stats with a person''s natural state. In my case, it''s a little different, but I''ll think that over when I know all the facts. "The body stat is, well, for your body. For every point you have in body, you get ten more health points added to your maximum health. Perks and items can increase that further. Each point also makes you a little faster, a bit stronger, and increases your reflexes. Mind is a little more complicated. Every point in mind gives you ten more mana points added to your maximum. Each point makes you a bit smarter and makes magic easier. Some claim it makes your reflexes and aiming better too, but that''s just a claim. I don''t think anyone''s tested it, though..." He trails off as he decides which branch in the corridor to lead me down. Taking another look at the directions on the note, he makes his choice and walks on. "Where was I?" "Soul." "Oh yeah. Soul is mostly a mystery to us. Each point in soul gives a tiny boost to the regeneration of your health and mana pools. We call them pools by the way. But aside from that, nobody really knows what the soul statdoes. The perks you can get are fairly random too. The only useful one I have gives a small boost to experience gain, and that was at 25. Only got that last month." "Ok. Is there anything else about my status I should know about?" "Um... if there''s a cross next to any of the stats, it means you can pick a new perk for it. If you get access to three or four at a time, you probably won''t be able to choose all them. Maybe one or two. The same goes for your class. If you choose one, then the cross means you can pick a skill or spell." "Cool. Cool." I spot a sign of a cross on the wall ahead. We must be near the surgeon. Despite myself, I''m afraid of what''s going to happen. They keep mentioning implants, and that scares me. I can''t get a good gauge on the time zone I''m based in right now, so medical prowess might be something to be desired. My mind raced for another question. Anything to keep Michael talking to distract me. "Um. Is there any other way to learn skills or spells aside from a class?" Michael appears deep in thought for a second. "They''re not very good ones, but yeah. You might get a tough skin skill if you''ve been stabbed enough. Maybe a mana manipulation one if you try to stretch your spells. Practice something enough and you''ll probably get something. But you''ll receive a stat-up far faster than a skill. And these are all things that require so much time to get with so little layout, you have to wonder if it''s worth- oh! We''re here." The green halls have given way to a white waiting room. Despite the chairs and rows of benches, it''s empty. "Huh. Guess no-ones here." "Why?" "Not sure. I guess after everyone got patched up and got a health tonic, they don''t have much to do in here." He walks up to a set of shiny metal doors and knocks on them. Almost immediately, they''re pushed open by a woman with short, black, slicked back hair, wearing a red lab coat. "WHAT!?" She barks at Michael, causing him to falter. "Ah. Um. This." He hands her the note, and she glares at it. Then him. Then back at the note. "I don''t suppose you''re this unknown are you?" Thoroughly shaken, Michael shakes his head and points at me. The woman sharply looks at me. After a moment of scrutinisation, she snatches the note from Michaels stiff hand and reads through it. "Lancers second lieutenant? Ok. What do you need?" "Uh. Implants?" The supposed surgeon frowns deeper. Evidently, I upset her. "What ones?" "I don''t know. Whatever ones I''m supposed to have?" "Fine. Basic helm comms, nervous controller and attribute booster coming up. You allergic to anything?" Luckily, I know the answer to the last thing she said. None of my bodies has ever had any allergies or illnesses beforehand. Anything that goes wrong with them is completely my doing. "No." "Good." Before I can object, she seems to teleport in front of me and stabs a long needle in my neck. Her sly smile and Michael jumping for me is the last thing I see before my vision darkens.
"Wake up miss sleepy head." I''m lying down on my front with a dull pain in my back. I can''t feel my arms or legs either. Whatever she used to numb me must still be in effect. "Um. Whu?" "Oh good. I was worried I''d killed her. Her body must be in the single digits." "It. Is..." Suddenly, a concerned face ducks into view. "Shit. Really? You should have said. This going to be a rough couple of minutes for you then." There''s a pause as she disappears and then reappears with a metal cup of some black liquid. Despite the weird angle that my heads at, I manage to sip at it enough that the pain in my back dissipates. It has a pleasant taste. Not really sweet, but still fairly fruity. "Kid. What did you say your name was? Nickel? Fetch me a grade three health tonic. Now." I hear a mumble of ''it''s Michael'' as someone leaves the room. It''s reassuring to know Michael stuck around. I have no idea how long I''ve been knocked out, and being alone with the eccentric female surgeon for too long worries me. "Don''t worry sweetie. You''ll be up on your feet soon enough." She rolls me onto my front and with some alarm, I realise I''m completely naked from the waist up. Only a white sheet with a few specs of red keeps me halfway decent. Shock and embarrassment must show on my face as the surgeon pops her head into view with her sly smile again. "Don''t worry. He didn''t see anything. That was a fantastic set of undies by the way. If you could remember where you got them, I would ask. Michael tells me you can''t remember anything though. Nice kid. Managed to keep his dignity while I was stripping you." With a wholly unconvincing wink, she pulls up the sheet to cover me, and she''s gone again. "I''m... hungry..." I speak almost to myself, testing the limit of the anaesthetic. My extremities are beginning to regain some feeling. I can move my head a little and twitch my fingers and toes. I can''t really feel anything different about my body, despite apparently having three different implants somewhere in me. And with the inconsistent time I''m set in, I really have to wonder what exactly is in me. I couldn''t have imagined that a culture that fights with swords would be capable of invasive surgery. But magic does exist here. I have to remember that I can''t limit my way of thinking. Michael runs into the room with a small metal bottle with three red stripes running around the neck. "Oh. Hey Ventra. Did Liz go?" Coming to the fairly obvious conclusion the surgeon was called Liz, I do my best at nodding. "Ok. Um. We should wait for her before you drink this. It''ll fix up all the damage around the implants, but it will also remove the painless tonic Liz gave you. As soon as that starts to go, you''re going to feel it." "What?" It might be my imagination, but the pain in my back is returning. By my best estimate, at least one of the implants is in there. Probably the nervous whatever. "Hey, Michael?" "Yeah? Can I get you anything?" "No... It''s just... how do you level up?" "Oh. I didn''t say?" "No. You said stuff about what you get when you level your class, but not how to increase the level of you or your class." "Huh. Ok, so the class one is simple. To level your class, you have to do what your class is supposed to do. A soldier has to fight, a mercenary has to do the same but for money. A merchant has to buy or sell, a surgeon has to... well, do surgery." "And my own level?" "That''s a bit harder to explain. To level up yourself, you have to achieve something you consider to be an achievement. For most, killing monsters is an easy way to do that. But if you do something too much, you''re no longer really achieving anything, so you stop getting experience for it. I''ve been fighting these undead for so long that only a wraith, thrall or zombie can give me experience for myself." "Is experience the stuff that you collect to level up?" "I guess so. People call it different things, but as it''s something you get when you experience it, most call it just that. Some shorten it to xp though." "Huh. So if I were to write a book, I would get xp?" Michael chuckles to himself. "If you knew how to write, then probably." It dawned on me that I don''t know how to read or write his language. Verbally, it seems identical to English, but that''s where the similarity ends. I laugh with him. The shaking hurts my back, but it''s nice to be able to laugh at myself despite all that''s going on. "Hey, Michael. Why are you still here?" "What do you mean? Still here as in the battlefield? Because I have-" "No. I mean why are you here with me. Don''t you have skeletons to cut down? Injured maidens to kick?" I finish with a smile to show my joking nature, and he thankfully takes it the right way. "Well, that''s kinda why I''m here. I felt bad for kicking you. And I didn''t even really plan on it. I was just going to apologise and then be on my way. But we didn''t know you had hurt your head that bad. I couldn''t just let you run around without any idea of what to do. I called a few favours to get the day off though. Dean owed me." It warms me that Michael would spend a day off helping me. We don''t know each other, not really. Yet he wants to help me. "Thanks, Michael." I smile at him as warmly as I''m able to despite the growing pain in my spine. He smiles back. It''s cute on his young face. "Ok! Who''s ready to get off the dullnerve potion?" Liz storms in with a scary looking needle in her hand, completely ruining the moment. "Kid, you get the tonic?" Michael meekly holds up the bottle and shakes it. "Good. Now, this is going to get ugly. Mickey, you''re going to want to get out of here." She snatches the bottle from his hands and shoves him through an open door. He tries to protest, but the surgeon need only wield the needle threateningly towards him for him to back down. "Good luck Ventra!" He yells as the door slams shut on his face. Enough has been said that I''m very scared of this final step in healing. Michael spoke of it with a chill in his words. Liz claims it will get so bad that Michael won''t want to see it. "Will it hurt?" Liz looks down at me with only a hint of sympathy. Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. "I won''t lie to you. This is going to suck."
Extreme pain levels endured. +3 body "Ow." Liz chuckled as she walked away with the now empty bottle of health tonic and similarly used up needle. "That was pretty good. You must have a decent mind stat. If you didn''t know, mind helps you deal with pain." Breathlessly, I lie on the surgery table, cooling off after sweating extensively while the health tonic fixed me. "So how do you feel?" "Not bad." And I''m not lying either. Aside from feeling both physically an mentally exhausted, my body feels rejuvenated. "Good. Here. Drink this." She offers a cup filled to the brim with more of the green liquid. I have to sit up to get it, causing my abdominal muscles to cry in protest. "Stamina tonic?" Liz nods in approval. "Grade two. Good stuff. It''ll get you on your feet instantly." I hastily drink down the green-tasting liquid and sigh in relief as the aching and fatigue just fall off of me. "There''s a shower through that door. And your clothes are by the door back to the waiting room. The kid is in there still, and he''ll take you to the Second Lieutenant. You can get your stuff activated there." I nod briefly and step off of the table, keeping the sheet covering as much as I can. "Thanks, Liz." "Liz? My name''s Lich. Where did you get Liz from?" "Um. Michael. He said Liz gave me the numbing tonic." The so-called Lich laughs out loud for a second. "That idiot. He was too busy paying attention to you to listen to me. Don''t correct him though. This is hilarious." "Um. Ok." Lich goes to leave the room, turning can at the last second to look at me. "Good luck miss unknown. With a regeneration like that though, you may not need it." I freeze in shock at how she so easily figured out my secret. Of course, she would know that a high regeneration meant a high soul stat. Lich sees my expression and laughs as she leaves. The sound reaches me long after she has turned a corner. "Friggin'' eccentric surgeon."
One very relaxing but only barely warm enough shower later, I feel alive again. Not like I''m dreaming, and not like I''m just playing a game. I realise now that I''m devoted to this life as long as I am living it. For so long on earth, I had become complacent with letting myself drift from life to life. I can''t even remember the last time I''ve made a significant change in the world. Now, I can do something big. I have the power, and I have the potential. I am better than I was, and in this world, I can only improve. I leave the surgery, somehow perfectly cleaned in the few minutes I was in the shower. Michael stands up from a chair and looks me over, likely making sure I''m ok. "You ready to go see the big guy?" I take a deep breath and nod. Despite how nervous meeting the boss might make me feel, there''s no way to avoid it. "Let''s get it over with. I can''t wait to see what happens when these things get activated." I indicate my body and the implants laying dormant within. Michael smiles at my innocence. "It''s pretty amazing when it happens. Come on." He leads me out the shiny doors of the waiting room and we continue again down the drab identical looking hallways. I feel better after having seen the spritely surgeon, especially after drinking that stamina tonic. The effect reminds me of having a perfect nap and waking up full of energy. Despite that, I''m still nervous and need to fill the near-silence with speech. "So what can you tell me about what the fighting about? Why are we fighting the skeletons?" A sly grin edges onto Michaels'' face. "Countless moral reasons... could have applied, but we''re mercenaries. We fight because we get paid to." "So do you know why we''re getting paid to do this?" He looks thoughtful for a second. "I think it''s actually the moral reason. When a few undead stumble together, they can raise more from dead bodies. Doesn''t matter if it''s cattle, or a giant or a dragon. They can and will raise more humanoid undead from the bones. Can you see why this might cause a problem in the long run?" I nod, seeing how a random handful could raise armies without any indication to the living civilisations nearby. "So how did so many get to one place?" He grimaced, not comfortable with the answer he''s reluctant to give. "Someone messed up. The plain giants of this area were trying to expand their borders without any combat potential. It only took a handful of the low-level skeletons to take out one of the poor pacifists. And as soon as one giant fell, there were suddenly a dozen more skeletons. The pathfinders were too spread out to warn their tribe, and the rest of the tribe was too far from anyone else to warn them in time. Eventually, their tribe of several hundred turned into an army of several thousand undead." Though I''m shocked at the tragic result, I can''t help but feel it was rather inevitable. "Surely they should have hired guards if they wouldn''t fight?" Michaels'' face hardens, and anger crosses it. "That''s the bit where someone messed up. We were the only mercenary group even remotely nearby. They only requested two divisions for guard duty, but the Lancer corporal denied their request. Without guards, their tribe was wiped and we suddenly had hordes of undead at our doorstep. They would have passed us without issue, and frankly, we wouldn''t have done anything about it. But the human cities nearby paid for us to take care of it since we''re so close." "So it''s our fault this war is happening?: "Yeah. We started it so we''re going to finish it." "Do you think we''re going to win?" "I don''t know. I''ve only been here about a year. My idea of tactics is basic, to say the least. We had maybe four thousand combat-ready fighters against roughly thirty-five thousand assorted undead. That was three days ago. I''m not sure what the numbers look like now though." "I thought you said there were only a few thousand after the plain giants fell." "There were. But the plains are home to far more than just peaceful giants. All kinds of other animals and monsters were caught up by the undead tide and got assimilated. Hence the growth of the army." "Shit." "I know, right? I''ve been fighting for two days already and cut down a hundred maybe. The issue is I''m above the average level of a mercenary. We have a handful of people with stats in the hundreds, most of us have a combined total of around a hundred, but there are too many with stats barely above twenty." "So we might lose." "We might. It''s near impossible to help an injured ally because the undead always go for a killing blow and then make sure we''re dead. You were lucky. Probably got away before it could finish you." "Mmm." I mumble and nod. I''m deep in thought about what I''m doing here. I''m certain I can make a difference, but only if I can train with my sword. I don''t have time for that though. I''m certain I''ll survive this, no matter how many times I die. But I have no idea if I''ll respawn somewhere else in this world. If so, the mercenaries might lose and the numbers of undead will only grow. "Hey, Ventra." I ignore him for a moment before I remember that''s my name and look up. "We''re here." "Oh." Michael knocks on the door in front of us and a gruff but distinctly female voice rings out. "Come in." Michael opens the door for me and I step into a very normal looking office. A bright light overhead illuminated a heavy wooden desk with stacks of paper on it. A plain wooden chair faces the desk; my immediate goal. The woman behind the desk is scratching on a piece using a petite green quill. She''s large, but it isn''t fat. She looks like a veritable powerhouse of muscle. Even her blonde hair looks official pulled back into a tight ponytail. "Not him. Just you." I hear Michael stop walking behind me, push the letter into my hand, and then shut the door after retreating. "Sit." She doesn''t look up but manages to command the room nonetheless. I heavily land on the chair opposite her and despite the blood pounding in my ears, I calmly wait for her to finish writing. "Unknown 397-F I presume." She looks up at me with steely blue eye and I somehow force myself to nod. She has a large face shot it her body. It''s obviously feminine, and despite the resting frown she holds, she manages to seem moderately attractive. "I''m the Lancer Corporals Second Lieutenant, Mary Scott. Your name is?" "Um. Ventra Cass." She writes what I assume to be my name down on the paper. The figures still seem foreign to me though. "I can tell you''ve been to the quartermasters already, but you got your implants replaced?" I nod again, and subconsciously twist my back, trying to feel the anomaly that must be inside. "Can''t imagine having them torn in the first place. What was it that took them out?" I shake my head, feigning a little confusion. "I''m sorry, but I couldn''t tell you. Whatever it was hit me enough to make me forget." Mary raises an eyebrow in response. "Forget how much?" "Everything. I barely remembered my name, but aside from that, memories, knowledge, it''s all gone." I choke up as I finish my sentence, and watch with some satisfaction as Mary''s face softens. To my surprise, she opens a drawer in her desk and pulls out two glasses and what I assume to be a bottle of alcohol. "I''m sorry you had to go through that. And it was a good thing that young man stuck around to help you. Here. Drink. It''ll calm you." She pours a more than healthy amount into each glass and downs her own in one impressive gulp. Never one to back down from a drinking competition, I try to imitate her, but the burning that meets my throat forces me to cough and gasp before I can finish it. Mary laughs at me. It''s a deep laugh befitting her voice and it brings me some ease. The growing warmth in my stomach helps too. "Better?" I nod, then finish my drink. It''s easier the second time around and reminds me of vodka mixed with whiskey. "Now that you''re calm, I have to ask a few questions before I can activate your implants. Luckily, I can put amnesia for a few of the longer ones. Ok, so I know your name, then... age?" I''ve never known my exact age, so I have to ballpark it. "Twenty-two." "Ok... what''s your level?" I grimace internally. I have no idea what my level is supposed to be. Another stab in the dark. "Forty three." She nods with some approval. "Not bad for your age. Class?" "I don''t have one. Michael, um, the guy who was with me called me classless." "Oh? That''s unusual. Well, would you like a class now? I can give you mercenary if you''d like." I shake my head again. I don''t want to limit my horizons so soon. "Fair enough. I guess you have a build already. And since I''m assuming you have no combat spells, what is your highest stat?" "Soul." "Ah. That makes sense. Ok. All done. Your new designation is soldier 715-F. Don''t forget it." I nod hastily, burning the code into my mind. Mary reaches into her desk again and pulls out a small triangle shaped piece of metal. It''s engraved with all kinds of shapes and has a bright green symbol painted on it that looks vaguely like a "q". "Ok. You won''t remember this, but this is going to feel strange. So I want you to relax. I don''t have many spare chairs. And you''re going to want to have your helmet on for this." I push the helmet onto my head, marvelling at how secure it feels. Mary reaches over her desk and pushes the triangle to my forehead. "Ready?" "Yeah..." "Good. Remember to relax. Acreati." With a loud snap, my vision burns to white, and electricity fills my body. Chapter 4 - Im a Warrior I can''t say how it felt to have so much going on inside my body all at once, but having the implants activated made me feel like a superhero. I could feel everything inside me. My organs, my muscles, everything was obvious. My perception of the room expanded too. My eyes may have been seeing only white, but I knew where everything was in the room. Mary leant back in her chair while I hung limply in mine. I felt so weak and so strong at the same time. But only for a second. Before I knew it, my world was darkness again.
I wake up with a start, sitting bolt upright and nearly hitting my head on the ceiling above me. I remember the sensation of having my implants activated, but almost as if it were a dream. Michaels'' head pops up next to the bed I''m sitting on, and I realise I''m sitting on the top bunk in a room full of bunk beds. There are dozens of people in the room aside from me and Michael. All look to be in their twenties, and all are getting dressed and ready to fight. I look down at myself, and under the thin blanket, I''m only wearing my soft green clothes. Michael has been chatting to me for a few seconds, but I hadn''t heard any of it, so I cut him off with a finger to his lips. "Where are my things?" Surprised, he steps aside and motions that my coat and scabbard with sword in are hanging next to the bed. The helmet hanging from the scabbard too. My boots immediately below them. "Good." I jump down from the bunk and start to dress myself. Michael still has to help me with the scabbard straps as I''m not used to the weight. He tells me that unsheathing the sword in communal areas like this is banned, and punishable by a public whipping. It seems that while we may not be the most disciplined group, there is still a carrot and a stick to directing our actions. He also mentions that wearing the helmet is another offence, though one punished by a mere cut in pay. The way he talks about the helmet, I don''t question why. What I do question is my apparent teleportation from the office to the bunk. "How did I get here?" "You were burned out after the activation. I forgot you have a low body stat. The second lieutenant asked me to bring you back to the bunk and I put you up there. You slept all night too." Though part of me is wary that he was responsible for me for several hours while I was out, I have to trust that he didn''t do anything unsavoury. It wouldn''t do to accuse him of something for no real reason. "So what do we do now?" Michael grins at me, obviously looking forward to whatever it is. "Breakfast."
Michaels enthusiasm was rather unfounded as breakfast turns out to be basic. A simple grain in a milky brown liquid with a side of water. Despite the odd colours, it''s a pleasant enough experience. Michael practically inhales his food, obviously a bigger fan of the meal than the average person. I do too, as I literally have no food in my body. I end up competing with Michael as to who could eat more, and he wins by a landslide. Our performance earns a scattering of laughs which raises my mood. Everyone was looking far too sad around me for my liking. After the weird breakfast, the thousand or so people are lined up by some higher-ups in order of number for a briefing. I''m placed far away from Michael and suddenly lose some of my confidence. Something about him made him so much more approachable than everyone else around me. I ignore the surrounding mercenaries though and pay attention to the familiar Mary Scott as she gives us our orders. "Ok, divisions sixteen to twenty. Today, you''re fighting on the north-eastern front. As usual, your target is number suppression. Kill, and do not die." There''s a ripple of unrest among the lines. "Do not fear, the wraith lords and dead Thralls are retreating to the east. Your highest threats are basic undead foot soldiers above level fifteen and zombies around level twenty. Luckily, most of you can handle them one-on-one, so don''t get swarmed. Briefing over." It was quick and concise. I''m still not sure what exactly my goal is on the field aside from surviving, but I''m getting closer at least. After the briefing, we''re led into long metal corridors and walk along them in line for several minutes. As a whole, we''re silent, and I lose interest in the fairly mundane surroundings in favour of my status. I spend my time figuring out my mind perks.
10 base Mind reached. Rank 1 mind perks unlocked.
Available perks: (1) Big spells (increase max mana by 10%) Fast spells (increase mana regen by 5%)
25 base Mind reached. Rank 2 mind perks unlocked.
Available perks: (1) Bigger spells (increase max mana by 10%) Faster spells (increase mana regen by 5%) Hard spells (increase spell effectiveness by 5%)
50 base Mind reached. Rank 3 mind perks unlocked.
Available perks: (2) Mana manipulation (increase manipulation proficiency by 20%) *soulful spells (10% of soul stat is added towards mana)* -requirement: have soul stat at least five times higher than mana. Harder spells (increase spell effectiveness by 10%)
75 base Mind reached. Rank 4 mind perks unlocked.
Available perks: (2) *Shapeless magic ( ability to release mana from your body for slight attack and defence use)* -requirement: have no spells. Sharp mind (offensive spells do 15% more damage) Hard mind (defensive spells prevent 15% more damage)
Its easy enough to choose the first two ranks worth of mind perks. I supposedly already have an incredibly high regeneration rate for my mana, so I choose the perks to increase my limit. In the third rank, I choose the soulful spells perk. The star and written requirement I met suggests it''s a special one. Especially since it would provide a stupidly large bonus to my mana stat. As soon as I select it, a savage headache forms, but in response, I feel part of my back heat up. Before it becomes uncomfortable, the headache leaves and soon after, so does the heat. Looking back at my status, my mana stat has made a ridiculous jump. The extra 61 mind from soul has almost doubled my mana pool when combined with the two previous perks. When the rank three options don''t disappear, I notice the 2 next to the available perks label has become a 1. Must be what Michael meant by having multiple choices. But choosing between the two remaining perks isn''t easy either. I have no spells, so both perks are very useless. After a moment of fake deliberation, I select Mana Manipulation. Mainly because of the higher number it offers. In terms of rank four, now that I know I have two choices, it''s far easier. I pick shapeless magic immediately, and it appears under my spells list as the spells Hard, which I assume is for defence, and Sharp, which must be for attack. I still have no idea how to use spells, but it''s a start. The final perk I can select is obviously Hard mind. With a body stat as low as mine, I have to be very careful about getting hurt. Or... getting not hurt. I close the perks window and am merely reminded of my significantly higher soul stat. The perks for which must still be chosen. I sigh dramatically earning a side glance from a female mercenary walking aside me. I try to look over and smile at her, possibly strike up a conversation, but she sneers at me and looks dead ahead again. My anger flares slightly, but I keep myself cool. I don''t know her, and chances are she''ll be dead within the day. I won''t apologise to myself for such a savage thought. She''s too stuck up to be passing up friends on a battlefield. I take the distraction from my status fiddling to take a look around. At some point, we left the base and began walking away from the large building through a sparse forest. Everything looks earthen enough that I can take comfort from the nature surrounding me. If it weren''t for the hundreds of people stomping through the dead brush, it would be a very pleasant place to spend my day. I briefly question why we''re supposedly walking to the fight, but going by Michaels story of where the army came from, it makes sense that we can walk. It even makes sense that it might have really only been a day since I arrived here if the base was within walking distance of the battlefield. My nerves rise up in my stomach and I involuntarily remember flashes of the battle I saw. If we''re so close to it, then how safe is the base? I shake my head to rid myself of the bloody images and occupy myself again with my stats and perks. The list of available perks for soul is larger than I expected, almost intimidatingly so.
10 base Soul reached. Rank 1 soul perks unlocked.
Available perks: (1) Moulded soul (allow species traits to become part of your soul)
25 base Soul reached. Rank 2 soul perks unlocked.
Available perks: (1) Smart soul (increase experience gain from educational events by 25%) Hunter soul (increase experience gain from killing monsters by 25%)
50 base Soul reached. Rank 3 soul perks unlocked.
Available perks: (1) Lawful soul (increase experience gain from humanitarian effort by 20%) Neutral soul (increase all experience gain by 5%) Chaotic soul (increase experience gain from chaotic effort by 25%)
75 base Soul reached. Rank 4 soul perks unlocked.
Available perks: (1) Ethereal soul (provides the ability to communicate with ghosts) *Soul of Magic (magic soul)* -requirements: have Soulful Spells offered
100 base Soul reached. Rank 5 soul perks unlocked.
Available perks: (2) Strong Soul (reduce the chance of enemies soul related abilities from taking effect) Monstrous Soul (steal the souls of more powerful monsters for a chance at their abilities) Leaders Soul (weaker beings are compelled to follow your every word) Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. Followers soul (follow the more powerful to gain some of their strength)
150 base Soul reached. Rank 6 soul perks unlocked.
Available perks: (1) Hidden soul (your soul is hidden from those who might seek it, showing a weaker one in its place) Path of the seeker (let your soul guide you to your destination)
200 base Soul reached. Rank 7 soul perks unlocked.
Available perks: (2) Powerful soul (reduces the chance of enemies soul related abilities from taking effect) Roaring soul (your anger is infused into your weapons for a 5% damage increase when angry) Desperate soul (damage taken is reduced by 20% when below 5%) Survivors soul (bonus soul stats gained from surviving against the odds)
300 base Soul reached. Rank 8 soul perks unlocked.
Available perks: (1) *Alien Soul (those around you are less wary of your origins)* -requirement: be not of this world. Familiar soul (share 5% of your power with those bonded by blood) Foreign soul (share 1% of your power with allied strangers)
400 base Soul reached. Rank 9 soul perks unlocked.
Available perks: (1) Soul of the genius (increase superficial intelligence to appear smarter to those around you) Soul of the fool (decrease superficial intelligence to appear stupider to those around you)
500 base Soul reached. Tier 10 soul perks unlocked.
Available perks: (1) Wings (your soul has reached enough power to form wings that allow flight.)
I skim the list of available perks at each tier, noting that they generally affect either my experience gain or an aura of sorts. The perks appear to mostly change how people see me. Except for the tier 10 perk. The only one given seems too good to be true. I can''t select a perk until I''ve expended my choices at previous tiers, so I find myself suddenly motivated to work through the list and get those wings. The first tier is easy but disappointing. My racial trait, immortal doesn''t seem to provide any benefits that I can see in my status, so nothing happens when I choose it. Most of the tiers have easy choices. Where I''ve unlocked a special trait due to meeting requirements, I immediately select it. And for most of the others, I choose what I think will help me the most in the long run. I end up choosing Hunter soul from tier 2, neutral soul from 3, and soul of Magic from 4. I''m hesitant to select soul of Magic due to the lack of description given, but it seems a better choice than the ability to talk to the dead. From tier 5, I choose strong soul and monstrous soul. The perks give me the impression the soul is fragile, so the ability to resist damage is probably important. I choose hidden soul from tier 6, and powerful soul and surviving soul from tier 7. Alien soul is the obvious choice from tier 8. The fewer people who ask where I''m from and who I have to lie to, the better. I''m stumped briefly at tier 9. I have no idea which will help me more. By impulse alone, I select Soul of the fool. The only logic I could apply to it was the chance that people would be more willing to explain stuff to me. "SOLDIERS! DON YOUR HELMETS!" An order ripples down through the lines. The sullen-looking mercenaries around me bust into action and with varying degrees of efficiency, unhook their helmets and put them on. I do the same, and as soon as the chin strap is firmly secured, a jolt goes down my spine strong enough to make me lose my bearings temporarily. I''m suddenly aware of the area around me. Like I''ve memorized it and know what''s there despite not being able to see any of it. I close my eyes and the feeling remains. The people closest to me, I know what their faces look like. I can sense them breathing though I can''t see or hear it happening. The feeling that I felt back in Mary Scott''s office resounds within me and I realise that my perception of my immediate area has been heightened to the point that I can never really be ambushed. I know that there are people all around me, and as we continue to walk on, I can sense how they move. "ALL READY! CONTACT IN VISIBLE RANGE!" I look over the shoulders of the people in front of me, but I can''t see anything beyond where the trees end. Those ahead begin to draw their swords, and even though I''m not over my sharply heightened senses, I draw my own. The almost familiar buzzing power I can feel through the hilt causes excitement to bubble it''s way up through the back of my throat. The prospect of this fight against undead using a sword is so surreal for me that I have to pinch myself through my coat to make sure im awake. A nearby mercenary gives me a weird look but ultimately shrugs it off. I see several others doing fairly strange things like kissing several types of medallions or idols they hang around their necks. I guess they have gods here too, just not the ones we had on earth. I ignore the half-baked traditions of others and focus on the upcoming fight. The weight of my claymore only seems to increase and I switch to a more comfortable two-handed grip. I can''t remember what it''s called or the style it belongs too, but I was in Ireland when I learnt it. Sometime in the early 500''s I think. Wherever and wherever I learnt the specific style of swordplay it is irrelevant. The important thing is that it brings me confidence. Not a lot, but enough to keep walking. A war cry erupts from the leaders of the lines and I can see them start to run, disrupting the formation. I''m still stuck in a brisk walk and am still unable to see past the break in the trees. The sounds of shouting and swords clashing reach me and my grip tightens on my sword. Despite the sheer force of the power flowing between the weapon and me, I still feel weak and unprepared. The opportunity for me to start running reaches me, and suddenly I''m being shoved forwards by those behind me. Taken by surprise, I manage to steady myself but ensure that I close my status. I can''t afford to be distracted anymore. A hand grabs my arm, seemingly materialising before I can perceive it in my helmets radius. So much for not being ambushed. I turn, already knowing who it is and feel some relief. "Ventra. You ok?" He pulls me aside, behind a big tree, letting the others stream around it. "Yeah. I''m... I''m good. Just nervous, you know?" In truth, my heart is pumping louder in my chest than ever before. It''s like this every time I charge into a fight. I know that as soon as I claim my first kill, I''ll be able to fight fine. It''s the getting there in the first place that''s difficult. "Look, you''re a veteran. There''s no other way to explain your power. And if your strongest stat is soul, then you probably used to worship Senca." I''m clueless again, and he must be able to easily see it. He still has a hold on my arm despite my drawn sword and shakes me hard enough for me to focus on the here and now instead of my past battles. "Look, the gods we follow; they''re strong. They can help us. She will guide you to victory. Remember her name. And follow me." I nod, looking more determined than I feel. The idea that a god will help me is nothing to the sense of security Michael gives me. He''s a veteran of sorts here and is willing to help me. He charges ahead of me, making a path for me to follow. All at once, we''re free of the forest and enter upon an area of grassland that I recognise from my introduction to the world. The black coats of fellow mercenaries surround me, but just ahead, I can see where the helmeted heads stop. Most of those eager to fight are pressed for space, so swarm outwards to get at the front lines. Blades catch the light ahead of me and I can hear the sound of shattering and cries of pain above the clashing of metal. Michael slows to a stop and turns to me. He points to his left and I follow the direction to where a haze of grey mist is pushing forwards from behind the enemy lines towards ours. It''s unlikely to hit us, but Michael still shows concern. "That''s an undead thrall. The report was false. I''m going after it. It''ll tear this division apart otherwise. Will you come with me?" He''s so serious that I can''t stand to say no. If he needs me, and this is where I can help the most, I have to accept. "I will. But what can I expect?" He starts to talk as he carefully jogs parallel to the front line. I notice he hasn''t drawn his sword yet, so I almost sheepishly put mine back on my back then follow him. "Undead thralls are spellcasters that were reanimated by Wraith lords. They act as servants to them. And honestly, they''re one of the worst things on this field. That mist is foul smelling. Try not to breathe it too much. They use mostly magic, but if the user was a Mana Eater or something similar in life, they''ll have some body enchantments that make them faster and stronger. Aim for its hands before you go for the neck. If it can cast, you''re in trouble." "Ok!" I have to shout to be heard. The fighting is more intense the closer we get to the thralls. Arrows have begun to fly towards the advancing mercenaries. I try to dodge them at first by leaping away where I can see them, but once I get hit in the side, it''s obvious how strong the coat is. Arrows occasionally pepper me, but the helmet and coat provide enough shelter that the dull impacts quickly become nothing more than an annoyance. We reach the area that Michael predicts the thrall will hit. Other must have known what was coming too, as there are much fewer people fighting here. Fewer skeletons too. The grey mist advances like an arc, and cuts off the dozen or so still standing here. Michael and I included. "And now, we wait for it to attack. Clear breath. Ventra, try to breathe through your mouth." I look over to Michael who has drawn his sword. There''s a light blue haze over his mouth. He activated a skill, that asshole. The mist hits us and I vomit almost immediately despite the warning. The scent of death and decay is too much for me and my half-digested breakfast ends up on the churned up grass. Michael is looking apologetically at me when another man runs up to him and slaps him on the shoulder. "Hey! Mikey! You challenging the big fry? And who''s this?" The new arrival also has the blue haze that apparently prevents the smell from reaching him. He looks older than Michael. Maybe in his late twenties. But he acts younger. He acts like this is a game. Maybe it is for him. "Adam, this is Ventra. She''s a recent unknown. I got her off the battlefield yesterday." The so-called Adam lifts my face with his finger and puts his thumb over my lips. My abdominals are racked with pain from vomiting causing me to stoop, and there''s drool down my chin. He appears unphased though. "Ventra, huh? Pretty name. Pretty face. Send effect. Clear breath." A cold wind passes through my lips and suddenly I can no longer taste death in my throat. I take several gasping breaths and Adam laughs. "Is this your first fight? Should you be- Mikey, should she be fighting a thrall?" I draw my sword and look out into the mist. "Thanks for the air. I''ve fought plenty, by the way. But I got hit in the head hard enough to lose my memories." Adam sucks in air through his teeth and draws his sword too. "I heard. That sucks. I''m Adam by the way. Spellsword. If you ever want to talk, I''m staying in barracks block 18." I ignore the badly hidden proposition but smile slightly when I hear Michael kick him. "Not the time you idiot. The tanks are ready, so we should be too." There are nine mercenaries ahead of us in a wide arc. They all have their swords drawn and all have some sort of barrier up in anticipation. Adam gives a knowing laugh. "They''re more than we need for one undead thrall. We both know we just want the XP. There''s no need to be so-" A cry of pain reaches us and we all look to the line of tanks. One is lying on his back with an arrow of black metal sticking out of his face. A space is left in the arc barrier where he has fallen. "Oh, shi-" In an instant, a similar arrow has appeared in the exposed left eye of the overconfident Adam. "NO!" Michael dives for me, pushing me down with one hand as he slashes at the air in front of me. "Return!" His sword shatters mid-slash but I see a black blur rush back into the mist. From the tanks with their shields, I hear several repeated castings of spells all running along a similar theme of shielding. "Shit. No. No..." Michael is already on his knees and holding the jagged hilt of his sword over the obviously dead body of Adam. "Michael..." I start to talk to him but don''t know what to say. I''m sure he''s just lost a friend and similarly, lost his sword. "Fuck." Michael stabs the remains of his sword into the ground above Adams'' head and puts his index finger to the front of his helmet. "Permadeath." He takes off Adams helmet and pulls the sword from his death grip. He clips the spare helmet to his back and watches sadly as Adams'' head begins to smoulder and then two small explosions take place in his back and at the top of his spine. I watch in horror at the damage the implants can cause. The implants I have in me. Michael keeps staring at the body, but I force my attention to those shielding us. No more have fallen, but I can see regular ripples spread across the large barrier from impacts of darkness. Occasionally they return fire and send out spears of ice, light or some other destructive force. "Michael. We have to help them." He looks at me with cold eyes. "We can''t help them. We''re all dead." "What? What do you mean? I thought you said this was just an undead thrall. I thought you could handle this." He stood his head and picked up the black arrow that had previously been housed in Adams'' face only to toss it way in disgust. "This... This is from a Wraith Lord. There must be one in the mist. They tricked us." "Well, we have to go get help, get more people, stronger-" "NO!" Tears are running down his face and he looks down, letting them fall into the dirt. "If we go out into the thicker mist, we''re going to be unprotected. We will die." Panic rises. I had such a good start, it''s not fair for me to die so easily to such an overpowered enemy without putting up a fight. "Can''t we shout for help?" He stabs the sword into the ground, grabs me by the shoulders roughly and looks into my eyes. "Can''t you hear it?" I hold my breath and listen. Aside from the occasional cry of pain from one of the mercenaries trying to protect themselves and us, there''s silence. "Nothing." "Exactly." Michael lets go of me momentarily to take off his helmet and then he hugs me. "Ventra, I know we don''t know each other, but I''ve never met someone like you. somehow, you seem so impossibly strong, and yet... I want nothing more than to protect you. I''m so sorry I brought you here. I... I''ve killed us both." he pushes his lips against my own, and I''m too stunned to even attempt to stop him. not that I want to. as much as he needs to not die alone, I need this for a much bigger reason. Heck, I like the guy. My heart beats fast, feeling rather than fearing. I push Michael back, his saddened expression saying it all when he sees the fury on my own. But he misunderstands. I''m not angry at him. I''m angry at me. Every time I hesitate, I hate myself a little bit more. Every time I''ve given into my own fear, I''ve never forgiven myself. I pick up the sword lodged in the ground at his feet. There is no rush of power like when I hold my own sword, but I can still feel it responding to me. With my soul attuned sword in my right hand and Adams in my left, I take off in a jog towards the line of Magic users. More of them have fallen. Too many. Only two stand defiant, holding their shields to protect me and Michael. They don''t notice me approach so are mildly shocked when I appear between them. "Where''s the Wraith Lord? Or the Thrall. Either one." After taking too long to register what I intend to do, one of them finally points in a direction slightly to his right. His face is gaunt, he has accepted his fate apparently. I nod to him with a sweet smile. "Hold on for just another minute or two. I need you to keep him safe." I look back at where I left Michael. He''s fallen to his knees and is staring at me. I smile slightly. I must appear insane to him. But I''ll fight. Because I''m a warrior. Chapter 5 - Im a killer I dash into the mist, letting my swords trail behind me. When it gets too thick, I swing my own powerful soul sword with enough power to send out the golden arc ahead of me. Luckily, it has enough energy to clear my view somewhat. I also have the slim chance of hitting something in the mist. After only a few seconds of running, I''m starved of breath. Apparently, the gloves aren''t perfect at neutralizing the weight of the massive swords. Also, my current body is almost painfully weak. Though I have nothing against my female anatomy, it is much harder to achieve a combat-ready level of fitness. At least according to my own standards. But I must be close to my target. I can see a faint humanoid figure ahead of me. In preparation, I hold both swords over my left shoulder. I near the figure, and in the second before I''m upon it, I spin on my toes and whip out first my right sword, then the left. When I swing my own sword, a golden arc flies out, several meters long. It flies through the mist, clearing a large tunnel of fresh air ahead of me. Unfortunately, there''s no sign of anything within. Whatever I saw isn''t there anymore. I skid to a stop and look around me. I''ve lost the general direction I was given and as the Wraith Lord and Thrall can probably see in the mist, they have the upper hand. More than one upper hand. I sense something behind me and react by spinning and crouching, extending my arms out with a long swing from both swords, the blades parallel. The golden arc flies from my blade, stronger than ever, and a thin blue one follows it. Neither hit anything and only end up clearing the mist temporarily. False alarm? I''m frustrated by the lack of contact I''m making, but glad my looted sword seems to have some use, however inferior it may be compared to my own. "Shit." My voice is muted in the thicker mist, doing nothing but amplify my nerves. All I can hear is the thudding of my heart in my chest and my rapid breathing. Tense seconds pass, and at the height of my paranoia, I hear the almost inaudible sound of a foot on grass. I do a full 360, putting as much effort into my dominant sword swing as possible. I hear the sound of a single tinkling bell and the air rushes away from me. I see the complete golden ring extend from me like a Nova with me at the centre. Even the mist above me is pushed away. But there''s still nothing in the large area of mist I''ve cleared. "Shit!" They''re toying with me... I drop the sword that I took from Michael and open my status with my free hand. With shaking fingers, saturated with adrenaline, I open my soul perks and select the tier 10 perk: wings. Immediately, I feel and hear my spine snap in several places and I collapse, losing control over my legs. There is no pain, just a feeling of wrongness as a chilling cold gathers in my lower back. Just above my hips, out of the corner of my eye, I can see growths pushing their way from underneath my clothes. Another audible snap and I can suddenly feel my legs again. I scramble to my feet, shoulder off my trench coat and lift up the shirt of my scrubs high enough to see pale, half translucent skin stretched over thin bones emerging from my back. The bones grow before my eyes, and in seconds, a new set of limbs are extended over a meter in both directions. I''m a little unnerved about how they look like flesh coloured bat wings, complete with three extended digits jointed at an elbow of sorts. But before I can even try to control them, yellow threads grow like grass across the skin, blooming like flowers and darkening until my new wings are coated in gold feathers. You have undergone severe physical changes. +5 body.
Feat Unlocked
Wings of Gold
Wings of Gold
Your soul has become strong enough to provide your body with a powerful step in the evolution towards divinity.
Effect: Flight
Divine quest received: Angelic Prowess
Objectives: Wings of Scarlet, Wings of Sapphire
Reward: Angelic species change
Completely forgetting the situation I''m in, I dismiss the boxes and admire my wings, fully extended and somehow nearly weightless. There''s no way around it. They''re beautiful. They don''t start between my shoulders like the stories and legends would suggest, but start near the base of my spine, just above the hem of my trousers. I can feel a new set of shoulder joints in my back and can, with some difficulty, rotate and move them forwards and backwards like my own arms. I focus for a second and like flexing my muscles, I manage to fold up my wings so that they lie slightly curled up, against my back and butt.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. It dawns on me how stupid that idea was. There''s no way I would suddenly be able to use my new limbs effectively, all I managed was to put myself in a vulnerable situation. Why I wasn''t killed, and am still not dead is beyond me, but I''m betting I don''t have much more time. I put on my trench coat again and pick up both the swords, making sure my own superior one was in my dominant right. I need a plan, but my mind is frazzled. The reaction to growing wings and my potential death is just too much. The only plan I can think of is just to run in a random direction. So I aim myself in the general direction I think I came from and take off running. I swing my sword, sending the gold energy ahead of me to make a path I can see through. I do this several times to make sure I can still see my path, but after the third arc I send ahead, I can see a browned gnarled foot step into the mist on my right. I immediately dive into the dense mist, heading towards it and send another arc ahead. It hits something this time, and I can hear a gurgled cry accompanied by a gross cracking noise. When the energy dissipates and the mist is pushed away, I see a semi-mummified body on the ground, a deep gash in its chest. The browned bandages covering dishevelled and dark skin cover none of the male bodies modesty. But it''s not like there is much to cover. I''m unsure whether it''s dead, but it''s for sure injured, so while it''s out of action, I take my chance. I run over to it and it raises its head slightly. It''s one exposed eye a shiny black orb that contains a deep red glow. It opens its mouth, showing several blackened teeth in a grin and then lets its head fall back as I flip the swords in my hands and stab them both into its chest, deep into the ground. A small golden ring expands from the wound, shredding the leathery skin and cloth it passes over. The red glow leaves its eye. A dull black marble remaining.
Undead thrall killed: personal xp (140)
class xp (xxx)
Level up! You are now level 1. +1 unallocated stat point. Level up! You are now level 2. +1 unallocated stat point. Enemy more than 25 levels above your own defeated single-handedly. +1 to all stats. I dismiss the messages and look around, noticing the mist around me and the Thrall is fading away. I look around rapidly, searching for any hint of the Wraith Lord. I''m still wary of the arrows it can throw and cautious of whatever other abilities it has. But now that the mist is fading, I figure my best bet is to get back to where Michael and the tanks. Only a couple of minutes has passed since I left them. But I can only assume that since I''ve not been attacked by the Wraith Lord, it must still be after them. I shut my eyes, listening as hard as I can through the muting mist and I can hear cries of pain just on the edge of my audible range. It takes a few more seconds of analysis to figure out where they''re coming from, and a few more seconds of sprinting to reach the clearing. When I get there, a tall figure surrounded by moving shadows is holding up a struggling Michael by his throat with one hand, slowly pushing a black wavy sword into his stomach with the other. My stomach lurches and my heart dictates my actions. "NO!" I spin, throwing both my swords at the shadowy giant, one after the other, using my rotation to put as much force into the swords as possible. It looks at me in an instant, and as the swords fly towards it, I can see a green and yellow eye under its hood. the glint, sending a chill down my back that literally ruffles the feathers of my wings. This is a being of obviously inhumane power. It uses the black sword to casually deflect the first claymore that reaches it, but when it tries to do the same for the second with a lightning-quick swipe, my own blade passes straight through his shadowy one, planting itself straight into its head. The growing gold ring upon impact explodes its head, shattering whatever was under its hood. Killing it instantly. The shadows covering it sharpen, one impaling Michaels'' thigh, then soften and sink into the ground as the body of the Wraith Lord collapses.
Wraith Lord killed: personal xp (419)
class xp (xxx)
Level up! You are now level 3. +1 unallocated stat point. Level up! You are now level 4. +1 unallocated stat point. Level up! You are now level 5. +1 unallocated stat point. Level up! You are now level 6. +1 unallocated stat point. Enemy more than 50 levels above your own defeated single-handedly. +2 to all stats.
Feat unlocked
King Killer
King Killer
You have single-handedly killed a monster named at the height of royalty or nobility.
Effect: Eligible for knighthood
Michael hits the ground hard, his hands instantly at his stomach and leg. He gasps for air at first, but his breathing is calm by the time I''ve reached him. I land heavily on my knees by him, keeping pressure on his stomach wound. Blood seeps through my fingers, but not enough for me to worry. "Uh, what''s your health at?" I''m not sure if he even really needs health. The way he spoke about it before, I guess his body stat is high, so dying of blood loss might be difficult for him. He coughs, then smiles and talks in a raspy, pained voice. "You... came back." I smile too, happily comfortable in the moment. There''s still enough mist around us that the sounds of the surrounding battle are inaudible, and I''m still hyped off of the adrenaline pumping through me. "And I killed the Wraith Lord. And the Undead Thrall." He murders a word under his breath and holds both my hands in his. I panic lightly for his wounds, but whatever he said, it stopped the bleeding. Another skill of his that I''m envious of. "Who are you?" I grin this time, and he mimics me. The sounds of fighting are beginning to meet my ears, accompanied by shouted orders to help us. I lean down, close to his face so I can feel his breath tickling my nose. A loose curl of red hair falls from my helmet and lands on his cheek. The blue shimmer covering his lower face is stretched over his gentle smile, providing even more of a mystical side to someone who I know almost nothing about. But that''s good. I have no doubt we will learn about each other. "I have no idea." And I kiss him, grounding my spinning head. I lose myself in the kiss, letting all the anxiety of the previous day fall away. He pulls a hand from my grip, slick with his blood, and lays it on the back of my helmet, pulling me closer. I feel closer to this man than I have felt for anyone in a long time. I need him now more than ever, and I can thank the gods that I found him. Or rather, that he found me. But as far as I can sink into the feeling of security he gives me, a subtle feeling in my mind never leaves. Something that has come and gone, but something that has never changed. Ever since the light left the eye of that thrall, I''ve been brutally reminded. I am a killer. And a bloody good one at that. Chapter 6 - Im Tired I pull away from the half embrace Michael and I were engaged in. More mercenaries are running around us, and I''m pushed back by a sharp-faced man in a dark red coat. "What are his injuries?" Michael''s eyes are shut, a look of pleasure over his face. But they snap open and his expression shifts quickly as he answers the question himself. "Badly bruised throat, a narrow stab wound through my right thigh, and a deep wound in my stomach. Both have been stopped from bleeding." The medic puts a hand on each wound and mutters a foreign word under his breath. Michael winces in pain, but then his tensed muscles relax in relief. "You should be good to fight. Do you have a blessed sword?" Michael stands up, slightly stooped, and looks sadly to the nearby remains of his sword. "No. But I can manage with any." I took the moment of reverence to squeeze Michaels hand. He looks thankfully at me, but I break off and run to pick up the swords that I threw. My own sword is still pristine, slightly covered in cracked pieces of black bone. I kick the black material the Wraith Lord was cloaked in, knocking fragments of ebony bone loose. It looks like all it was, was just another skeleton with a greater hold of Magic. Dark magic. The bone fragments give me a bad feeling, so I retrieve my sword and sheathe it carefully. I just about to look for the deflected sword I got from... Michaels recently deceased friend when a green glint draws me back to the pile of bones. The green and yellow lights I saw under the hood turn out to be crystalline spheres. The yellow one is little more than dust, as I hit it directly, but the green one is intact and shining. I pick it up and pocket it. While it may be a bad idea to take the eye of something that slaughtered at least a dozen mercenaries effortlessly, I figure I can deal with whatever it can throw at me. However malicious this crystal might be. I hunt around more, looking for the black sword the Wraith wielded that seemed to be stronger than the average mercenaries sword. Unfortunately, it''s nowhere to be found and I can only assume it dissolved into the ground like the shadows that it was animating with its magic. "Ventra." I turn quickly, expecting for us to already be under threat again, but it''s just Michael. He''s holding a sword quite different from the norm. It''s almost like a rapier, but just shorter than the claymores are. So, much longer than a rapier should be. Its also engraved with bright red runes and shapes that give it more of a physical presence. A temporary weapon from the medic. It wouldn''t pack the same punch as the claymore, but it''s an effective weapon nonetheless. I look at it longingly, envious that Michael is wielding my chosen weapon. Almost. But I realise he needs it more than me, and he even explains that each of the tanks who had been defending us before used swords blessed by Meli, the God of the mind. Michaels mind stat was too low to take advantage of a sword like that, so every sword discarded around us is useless for him. "So where do we go now?" He points in the direction we had been marching in initially. In the time we were inside the mist, the mercenary divisions deployed had pushed back the undead far enough that we were surprisingly far from the actual fight. "We''re barely an hour into our shift. In maybe another hour or so, we''ll be recalled for a break and another few divisions will take our place." I nod, unsure of the tactics being employed. I have no real knowledge of the statistics behind the fight, and as I have the reputation of a newbie fighter, I doubt I''ll have access to that kind of info. As we start towards the new frontlines in the distance, working our way through the grassland covered in bones and dust, I hear someone yelling my name. Only three living people know my name, and since I doubt the field is the place for a surgeon, I can guess who it is immediately. Mary catches up with us in seconds, her tall frame and long legs launching her across the ground surprisingly quickly. "Ventra. A messenger tells me there was an Undead Thrall and even a Wraith Lord here. I came to deal with it personally, but it looks like it''s already done. And Medic Anders even tells me it was you who did it." I''m stuck open-mouthed, still shocked at Mary''s Olympic level sprint. Her gaze passes to Michael who is equally awestruck and addresses him directly. "Mercenary, I have something to discuss with her in private. You are dismissed." "Yes, ma''am." He nods to her and runs off towards the sounds of fighting. He looks back fleetingly and we make eye contact for an instant, but then he''s gone. "Ventra. This is important, please ensure you''re paying attention." I gulp, nodding furiously. "You were able to kill two creatures of a danger rank above three. You might not remember what that means, but for the love of Alo, even I would have struggled with both." She pauses to take a breath, and I wait patiently for her point. She seems mixed between surprised and frustrated. "We''ve had far too many recruits recently for me to find your recruitment paperwork. I just don''t have time with the hoards at our doorstep. All I''m asking of you is, to be honest with me." I instantly launch into an internal debate about how honest with her I should be. I''ll tell her my stats. I''ll even show her my wings. But as sympathetic as she seems, I''m not sure I should drop the figurative bomb of my origins on her. "What do you want to know?" I look over my shoulder, trying to spot Michael in the far line of black coats and white skeletons. Mary draws my attention back to her with a heavy yet gentle hand on my shoulder. "Do you really not have any memories?" I shake my head, expertly pulling off a wry smile. "I''m sorry. I just remember flashes of the fight while injured. Then... The taste of a health tonic. Then waking up yesterday." She nods, she seems upset that my fake past is still hidden to her, but at least she accepts my amnesia story. "Ok... that''s ok. Now, what are your stats? All three please." I pause and open my status to the amused eyes of Mary. She must think I''ve just forgotten the numbers, but I quickly explain that I levelled up from the Wraith Lord fight, and wanted to sort my stats.
You have 6 unallocated stat points:
Body (+) Mind (+) Soul (+)
All six points go into body. I don''t feel any different, but such an increase can only do good things.
Name: Ventra Cass (The Cause)
Hp:210/210 (6.14%) Species: Human (Immortal)
Mp: 930/930 (6.14%) Level: 6 (26%)
Class: (none)
Body: 21 (+) Mind:158 Soul: 613
Perks: If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.-Mana: ? [1] Big spells ? [2] Bigger spells ? [3] Soulful spells ? [3] Mana manipulation ? [4] Shapeless Magic ? [4] Hard Mind -Soul: ? [1] Moulded Soul ? [2] Hunter Soul ? [3] Neutral Soul ? [4] Soul of Magic ? [5] Strong Soul ? [5] Monstrous Soul ? [6] Hidden Soul ? [7] Powerful Soul ? [7] Surviving Soul ? [8] Alien Soul ? [9] Soul of the Fool ? [10] Wings
Skills: (none)
Spells: ? Hard ? Sharp
I read out my stats to Mary, her confused expression shifting to anger then surprise then back to confused. "That makes no sense..." She mumbles under her breath, and I brace myself for her reaction. "Ventra, do you have any recollection of being a monk?" I open my mouth to deny immediately, but then I pause, considering this new approach I''ve been handed. I''m about to ramble some bullshit about having a meditation skill when Mary cuts me off. "No, it doesn''t matter. Don''t worry about it if you can''t remember. But... wait, if your soul stat is above 500, do you have... you know?" I do know. I pull back from her grip and take off my trench coat. I hold it over one arm, focusing on moving my new wings with as much grace as possible. Which isn''t a whole lot. In a few jerky, uneven motions, I extend and stretch my wings, the golden sheen of the feathers still obvious despite a cloud bank blocking the best of the light. "But there was nothing like this from Surgeon Lich..." I somewhat apologetically look up, somehow exposing my wings like this is embarrassing. "I only chose to get the wings today. The perk was always available." It wasn''t a lie, but it wasn''t the complete truth. I didn''t feel as guilty about this. "Huh... well... we need to talk about this later, but for now, finish your fight. At the lunch break, come back to base and come to my office." I nod, and she nods back, satisfied with our discussion. She turns back and starts to speed up, extending her pace and step at a remarkable pace. A sudden thought crosses my mind and I call out after Mary. "Where is your office?!" She stops and turns, likely irritated that I can''t remember where her office is. Even though I''ve only been there once. "BRING THAT YOUNG MAN WITH YOU IF YOU WANT. MAKE SURE HE LIVES!" She turns on her heel and thunders away. I briefly imagine how she must be in combat. If even she claims to struggle with the monsters I wiped out, maybe she can''t utilise the energy of the swords in the same way as me, but her body stat must still be pretty high. Because I''ll be honest, luck was on my side when I was fighting. I have no idea how to use the special effects of my sword other than to swing as hard as I can. And everything I did was based off fear and impulse. I need to figure out how to fight properly using these stats to my advantage, otherwise, I''ll die when I face up against something as strong as the Wraith Lord again. I don''t want this body to die. I''ve got a good thing going right now, and I''m not keen on finding out what happens to my stats when I die.
I lose myself in fighting. Michael and I watch each other''s backs as we fight, somewhat awkwardly at first. The skeletons are a slow force, an unbelievably strong and rapidly expanding one, but slow nonetheless. Though I am still putting in the effort to stab and swing with intent, since I''m not putting all my effort into each strike, the golden effects aren''t appearing. Buts that''s more than fine. My rhythm of stabbing and slashing is blissfully slow compared to the quick panic of before. Michael seems to be fighting with ease, so much so that he concerns himself with how I''m doing rather than focusing on his own sword. He advises me as I go, to keep my movements conservative. The equipment we''re given might neutralise the effects of exhaustion, but it would only go so far. My arms ache almost constantly, and I keep having to take short breaks, due in which Michael would let me fall back and he would double his efforts. In the hour or so I''m fighting at the front lines, which feels like only a few minutes, I kill more skeletons than I can count. The experience I gain from killing one is always in the single digits. Michael says it''s due to the lack of risk we put in by fighting them. But I still manage to level up four more times from the sheer number I crush. Each point goes straight into body when I next take a break, bringing my total stat up to 25. I hold back from selecting the perks that wait for me. After seeing what they are, I should consider what I get carefully. I regret choosing the wings in the middle of the mist. I ran out with far more bravado than I had any right to feel. I was scared and in a moment of panic, believed that suddenly getting two more limbs would help me. In reality, they are a manageable hindrance to my movement. Luckily, I don''t have to move around too much, so keeping the wings close to my butt and thighs under my coat is an acceptable way to hide them. All I can think about is how much I hate the fact I wasn''t given a day to train or practice before I was thrown straight into the fight.
The break is announced by a shrill whistle echoing across the grass plains. Immediately, the thinned line of mercenaries separates from the enemy line and runs back towards the treeline which is little more than a darker green line on the horizon. I can make out another line of black-suited individuals running towards us. The relief divisions. Already running close behind Michael, I sheathe my sword and try to dodge arrows that are beginning to rain around us. All I manage to achieve is a few bruises on my back, legs, and worst of all, wings. But none of them causes my health to decrease. I imagine it''s because even if I were to get 250 similar bruises on my body, I probably wouldn''t die. We rest in the woods, in a hastily cleared area, using tree stumps as tables and logs as benches. I''m no expert on tree felling, but it looks like the trees were cleanly sliced near the base, most likely by someone with an insanely high body stat. Michael went ahead of me as we ran, and once I''ve finished pointlessly admiring the woodcutting, I scour the clearing for him. He''s sitting with a group of young fighters. None look into their twenties yet. And all of them are girls. Attractive ones too. For a moment, my inner possessiveness and lust battle it out and I try to figure out if I want to join or disrupt this little group. As I''m doing this, one of the girls, a skinny blonde thing, laughs through a mouthful of food and puts her hand on Michaels'' leg. I don''t see how he reacts because my chest has already erupted into heat. I want to challenge this girl and I want to win. But I''m beyond that. Just because I''m in a new world doesn''t mean my sensible side cultivated over millennia will be pushed down. So while no blood will be spilt by me, I need to... assert my dominance. Doing my best to appear effortlessly seductive, I lay my hands on his shoulders while standing over him, and slowly run them down his arms, lowering my head closer to his as I do so. "Hey, Michael. I''ve been looking for you." He looks up at me, a sweet smile on his face. He appears mildly surprised too. But not guilty. The fight leaves me. Instantly, I know he''s innocent here. "Hi, Ventra. Sorry I ditched you." From under his coat, he hands me a thin wooden box. It''s the same one that I''ve seen everyone else eating out of. "I wanted to make sure you got one of the better boxes. This one has meat in it. But... I ran into Elle here. She''s an old friend from division nineteen." I give Elle a small but somewhat genuine smile and a nod. If she''s a friend of Michaels, I can tolerate her. I''m not always the jealous kind, but Elle has eyes of such bright, captivating blue that even I find myself drawn to her. Suddenly remembering that I hate her, I take the box from Michael with a smile and address him directly. "Second Lieutenant Scott has asked to meet with me during the lunch break. She said if I needed a guide back to bring you. So, can we go?" Michael scrambles to his feet and practically drags me away from the group. I stumble at first, unprepared for the speed at which he seems to want to get away. He waves over his shoulder at the girls, and all of them but Elle wave back. She just looks... sad. I ignore her though and speed up so Michael doesn''t have to drag me. We''ve already left the clearing and are heading through the sparse woods in the direction I assume the base is. "Hey. Michael. Slow down. Why are you rushing?" He doesn''t turn, but keeps his pace, speaking as he paces forwards. "Second Lieutenant Scott isn''t to be kept waiting. If she wants to see you during the lunch break, then you have less than an hour to get back to her office. At best, forty-five minutes." I grab his shoulder and force him to stop. "Wait. There was no sense of urgency in the meeting. It''s not official I think. I think she just wants to talk about me." He looks torn between my logic and his own duty. "Fine. If you''re sure, I can''t argue. Madame Scott is a weird one anyway." He finishes with a smile, and I laugh lightly at his comment. Mary certainly was quite weird for someone in a position of militaristic power. She was someone I expected to see leading a charge from the front rather than the rear. He leads me back to the base, and I get to see it properly for the first time. The first time I came here, I was unconscious, and when I left, I was distracted. The so-called base for the group of mercenaries I''ve found myself a part of is an incredibly large one-storey building made of black stone bricks. It appears blocky but well made, and I can make out three large metal doors where stuff must come in and out of the base. Though it''s surrounded by woods, I can see worn tracks leading in many directions away from the black walls that stretch in every direction. Michael stops briefly to admire the sheer size of it and I stop too, my mind filling with questions. "Are there no defences? And how did Quartermaster Deans warehouse fit in there? And why aren''t there any windows? There''s like three doors on this side alone, and they don''t look defended at all. What''s up with that?" Michael laughs at my barrage of questions. Up until then, we had been in a comfortable silence. I was slowly recovering from the physicalexertment of the fighting, and I think he was still grieving losing his sword. The mercenaries here seem to believe that the sword and wielded become partners of a sort. And Michaels had been killed. But he''s smiling now. It''s a definite improvement. "Um, from the beginning, there''s actually a load of defences, they''re just all hidden. Dean can for his warehouse in here in the same way he fits his office and armour in the crates. Illusion and transmutation magic. As for the windows, glass and wood are all too easy to break into if we ever do go under siege. So no windows." "Huh." "I prefer it like this, you know? You were quiet on the way back, and I thought something was up." I smile at him and he meets my look. "I''m fine. It''s just been kinda hectic, you know? In the space of a day, we both nearly die. I guess... mentally at least, I''m tired." "Well if we''re back at the base now, we won''t have to go out again unless there''s a crisis. You can probably take it easy for the rest of the day." Hoping his words are true, I let him lead me inside. Chapter 7 - Im Moving Up As I pass the boundary of the building, I get a sudden but fleeting red pain behind my eyes and fall back. -10hp "Michael what the hell?!" He picks me up by my outstretched hand and looks me over to see for any damage. "I forgot to say. Remember to take off your helmet." With a grimace and a soured mood, I take off my helmet and clip it to my back. "Let''s go." The further into the base we get, the more my nerves get to me. And I hate it. It''s nothing to do with Mary herself. Despite her oddness, I like the woman. It''s because I feel like I''m in trouble. I haven''t seen anyone else with wings. And I haven''t seen anyone else be able to use the sword like I do. I assume some of them can, as my mind stat is apparently high enough to make a weak arc. I can''t use a sword to make the an energy run when I stab something, but apparently there are people with mind stats higher than mine. I can only assume it''s because they use their swords for more defensive measures. I''m reminded of the sword that Michael has. He used the rapier like his claymore in the fighting, with two hands. I wanted to critique him at the time, but the way he used it meant that he was as effective as any of the other fighters around us. I was still getting used to being stronger but slower to compensate for my low nobody stat, so he was doing far better than me. I can''t see the sword anywhere on his body, but as the scabbard on his back is invisible, I assume it''s secured in there somehow. "Curious about the assault blade?" I look up to his slightly amused face, and nod eagerly. The subject of weapons quickly washes away my foul mood. "I didn''t know there were other types of swords available." He laughs but seems all too eager to explain. "There are only the two types issued here. The siege blades which we typically use are for fighting against monsters, or sometimes actually attacking a building. We don''t use them on people. Very rarely, and only with the permission of the king can a noble hire us for a land dispute, or some invasion. In those cases, we use the assault blades. They''re generally better against other humans who know about wielding a sword." "Can I get one?" "Maybe. If you get promoted." "And how do I do that?" "Well, I''m pretty sure that''s what Lieutenant Scott is going to talk to you about. I mean, you killed two monsters, of rank four and five. I''ve only ever assisted with a rank four and... she must be promoting you." This is good news... I think. While a higher position of power can only help me gain access to more information and power, I don''t need all the attention. We continue in silence until I start to recognise the route. "So what are you going to do for the rest of today?" Michael looks thoughtful for a moment. "I doubt I''ll be able to go back to the front line. By now our division is probably sparring or just relaxing in the woods. I can do some proper training in the box though." "The box?" "I''ll tell you about it later. But we''re at the lieutenants office. You shouldn''t keep her waiting." He knocks on the door for me and stands to attention just past it. There are muffled voices coming from within. They pause when he knocks. "Come in." Mary''s rough voice comes through the door and Michael shoots me an encouraging smile. I''m grateful because despite the increasingly familiar way Mary and I have been conversing, I''m still wary of what she has the power to do to me. I won''t fight her, but I have a feeling that''s not mutual. I push my way into the office, and sitting opposite Mary is a tall and lithe blonde man who turns to look at me as I enter. His hair is long to his shoulders and slicked back with something greasy. Something on his back is making his coat ride up, but I can dismiss it as some racial thing. His skin is certainly too pale to be human, and his ears are flat to the sides of his head. His pupils are white, surrounded by green irises which analyse me. He makes an unsatisfied face and turns back to Mary. "She''s the human I''m supposed to train? There''s nothing to her! Is she at least trained in any styles?" Mary raises her eyebrows and looks at me. "I don''t know. Why don''t you ask her yourself?" He stands up and turns to me, grossly his arms. His glare deepens and his mouth turns up into a sneer. I certainly don''t like this guy. "Well?" I''m determined to be more patient than him. I can be better. "I''m afraid I don''t know the names of any styles here, but I guarantee I have some skill." His eyebrows raise slightly in surprise, and I can see Mary nod approvingly. "We shall see."
By that, the tall pale guy means to test me. He leads me down a maze of corridors, down several flights of stairs until we reach an underground arena of sorts. Through a thick glass wall, I can see a large square of dirt surrounded by black metal walls. I''m standing on an overlook of sorts, and looking at the higher up parts of the walls, I can see it extends around the entire arena. "This is the illusionary training room. Most of us refer to it as the box. Here, I will test your potential."Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. I look down, closer to the base of the wall I''m behind, and see several mercenaries either sparring or resting. It''s my first chance to see how they train instead of fight, and they all seem to be using the common European style. All heavy sweeps and hard thrusts. In the past, it was a weapon and style used for crowd control or suppression rather than extended dueling due to the heavy weight of the swords. But with the equipment we''ve been been provided with, that''s no longer an issue. The fighters are able to pull off the moves in familiar with at an incredible pace. When all the effort can be placed into speed instead of trying to hold up the sword in the first place, some truly incredible moves can be pulled off. "Girl!" "Huh?" I spin, and the pale man is looking at me, angrier than ever. I must have zoned out when looking at the fighting and started ignoring him. I shrug apologetically and he just points at a staircase leading down to the arena. I start towards the stairs and see him push his hand to the glass window. A red rune flares into life under his touch and he speaks, his voice echoing through the huge room. "SPARRING TIME IS OVER BY ORDER OF SECOND LIEUTENANT SCOTT. CLEAR OUT!" I can hear a few groans and complaints from the fighting mercenaries, but they all trudge up the stairs moments later in the opposite direction to me. As I had suspected, Michael was among them and as we pass, he smiles and puts his hand on my shoulder just for a second before he is pushed along by those behind him. As I walk through the plain doorway into the box, the air suddenly turns opaque and I push through it like water. On the other side, the dirt floor of the huge room has been replaced by the grassy plains of the battlefield I was on a mere hour ago. Spinning around, I can see the translucent white doorway, but I can also see the landscape extend into the horizon past it. I try to reach for the wall that logic dictates should be just next to the door, but I step right past it. I even take a few more steps to see if the wall is moved, but for all intents and purposes, the admittedly large room I had seen from the outside is now a vast landscape. "Girl!" I turn on my heel, reaching for my sword in shock. It''s amazing how quickly that familiar motion comes back to me. I very nearly reach to my waist with my other hand, the reflexes crossing, but my little self control in that instant keeps my demeanour together. The only threat to me is the threat to my mood in the form of the tall blonde guy. "Yes?" "Draw your sword. Fight me. I will evaluate your strength." Ok then. A duel it is. I harden my expression and focus on him. He isn''t wearing a helmet so I assume I ant wear my own either. No matter. I''m not used to using it as a tactical advantage yet anyway. With a flourish, he draws his sword and retreats several steps so we are at duelling distance apart. I draw my sword too, and hold it in a comfortable two-handed grip as opposed to my opponent''s one-handed grip. I don''t have the muscles in this body to implement as much technique as I''d like to, but I can brute force this fight with my high spirit stat. I force my breathing to slow, paying attention to my opponent as much as possible. His body language suggests he will be playing defensive. But as much as I''d like to force him onto the offensive, he also exudes patience. A cold, furious patience, but patience nonetheless. "Well, Girl? What are you waiting for?" He splits his pale face into a smile, his mouth extending far further than normal humans. The resulting display of teeth is decidedly creepy and screams arrogance. In return, I let my sword fall back behind me, and lift it in a quick uppercut. A vertical blade of gold flies forwards, leaving a shallow groove in the ground. To my irritation, his grin twists deeper and he simply sidesteps the attack and remains in his ready position. He tilts his head at me and with a cry of frustration, I swing my sword downwards, but before it hits the ground, I spin and swing vertically, making a golden cross careen towards him instead. His eyes widen slightly and in an instant, his sword flashes blue and he thrusts at the centre of the cross. It explodes in a shower of golden sparks, and when they clear, I can see he''s dropped his guard and is preparing to sprint at me instead. I hurriedly raise my guard again, and try to predict how he will attack. But with his body low to the ground and his sword loosely held behind him, there''s a multitude of possible attacks. The ones I''m wary of are a thrust or swing. I can defend against either one easily, but assuming his speed is higher than my own, I won''t be able to switch stances in time. So another idea comes to mind. As soon as his coiled body flexes and my image of him blurs, I let my grip loosen on my sword and stab it deep into the ground as hard as I can. The golden nova that erupts from the ground is larger than any I''ve generated so far, and the earth in a five-foot radius is heavily destabilized. Apparently, a high kinetic force is generated in the air too, as the blonde blur in front of me is thrown back. He lands on his feet, but I can see where shrapnel has caught his face, causing pale yellow blood to seep from his closed eye. I feel like I''ve taken this too far, but at least his grin is gone. Unfortunately, so is he. -93hp "AUGH!" I look down, and a blue-tinted sword is protruding from my stomach. In an instant, over a third of my health is gone, and my body is overloaded with pain. High pain levels detected... Deploying dullnerve. Instantly, the sword is pulled out from my stomach and I fall to the ground as all my energy leaves me. The wound slowly becomes less painful though. In seconds, the pain has recessed enough that I can think straight. Bleeding for 5hp per second (0:20) This isn''t a fatal wound. Not by any means. My regeneration may not be as strong as this bleeding effect, but I have more than enough health left to survive. My health will be completely regenerated in a matter of minutes too. "That was a low-damage area. For that to fell you, you must have been telling the Second Lieutenant the truth. In which case, I also needn''t waste a health tonic on you." He lets me rest on the floor for several minutes until I have enough energy to stand again. The wound has closed, and I can see the holes in my clothes are smaller than they were at first. Dean must have been serious about the self-repair function of the clothing. When I relocate the pale guy, he''s sitting on a severed tree stump that''s seemingly sprouted from nowhere. He stands when he sees I''m back on my feet. "You fought well Ms Cass. Well enough for me to acknowledge your name. You have also earnt the right to know who I am. I''m the Lancer, Declan Scott." "Oh..." Then the implications of that name hit me. "OH!" I stumble into a salute from earth with my hand to my brow, accidentally clicking my heels together; a rather unfortunate habit picked up from a... darker part of my military history. Declan laughs simply, and immediately, the creepy aura he''s been throwing off is dispelled. He seems a strange looking, but completely approachable man. "As your exclamation suggests, you''ve already figured it out. And yes, The Second Lieutenant and I are married." I manage a half nod and stare slightly open-mouthed. "Huh." "Mary tells me you have the potential to become my first Lieutenant. Your stats alone are impressive, and the technique you hold your sword with seems trained... But possibly with a lighter sword. I can''t help but think... sorry, I''m rambling. Your mind must be brimming. Any questions?" Dozens of questions are racing through my mind. Far too many to ask at once. So I start with the ones bothering me the most. "Um. If you''re the Lancer, and Mary''s superior, then why were you in her office instead of the other way around, and why did you dismiss the others by her order?" He smiles slyly. I''m beginning to get the impression his whole bad guy demeanour earlier was just an act to psych me out. "I like to keep my position more of a phantom than a physical being. I don''t have an office, and only a few people know who I really am. It keeps the soldiers... suppressed in a way. They don''t question the command of the Lancer because they don''t know who he is. Most know me as Declan, Swordstyle Instructor." "So why are you trusting me with this classified information." He shrugs with a smile and a shake of his head. "I''m not. Mary trusts you, and by proxy, so must I." I ask him a few more questions as I feel the stab wound in my stomach slowly fade. I learn that as the Lancer, he and a select group of maybe a dozen fighters usually take care of tier three and higher threats. They exist outside of any of the divisions. I learn that Declan is a draugar, some sentient undead, and the species bonus grants him a massive boost to the effectiveness of his mind stat. He''s a mind focused fighter, with a sword of the same strength as my own, just blessed by another God. I''m about to continue my line of interrogation when he holds up his hand and stops me. "My twice will answer any more questions you have in due time. For now, I''ve decided to teach you." "Teach me what?" He shrugs off his long coat and from the middle of his back, shimmering, admiral blue wings spread. "To fly, Ms Cass. And to fight." Chapter 8 - Im Falling I immediately take off my own coat and slowly spread my wings. It isn''t nearly as graceful as Declan own display, but by the way, he nods approvingly, I think I''m doing something right. He approaches slowly, the metallic feathers of his wings shimmering in the light. We both seem transfixed by the display of the other, but he breaks the tension by crouching when he reaches me so he can take a closer look at the details of my wings. "Truly extraordinary. You know, I''ve never met anyone with a soul stat even close to high enough to get this. However you earnt these numbers, you might be the first person to complete the divine quest." I flinch as he slowly strokes the joint in my wings where the digits spread from the main limb. It''s surprisingly sensitive there, which gives me an idea, but I know he''s only doing this for his own research. I''m getting no sense of an anterior motive from him at all. "What do you mean?" "Soul is a notoriously hard stat to raise. And when I say notoriously hard, I mean it. I''ve been alive for almost three hundred years, and outside of kill and level rewards, I haven''t gained a single point." "I''m sorry. I can''t tell you how I got this far. I don''t know." "I know, Ms Cass. And even if you did know, I doubt I would take heed. I am not immortal, and I... well, let''s just say I don''t have forever to try and become an angel. My efforts always have and likely always will be focused on training my mind." He brushes the tip of the joint, and I feel a tingle in my spine. He notices my discomfort and stands quickly, clearing his throat and brushing his hands off on his scrubs. He seems to really be going for an image of fitting in because there really are no factors aside from his wings that would give the impression of leadership. "So, this will be slow going because of your low body stat. I''ve only ever taught myself and two others how to fly, and since they were both body focused, I''m not sure how strong your body has to be to fly." "I''m fine with slow going." "Good. But make no mistake, this won''t be easy. Flying was one of the hardest things for me to learn." I nod and sheathe my sword that I had been loosely holding the entire conversation. The Lancer kneels and sweeps his hand over the grass while mumbling something under his breath. An array of colourful runes appear just above the grass and he taps a few of them, dimming some. "Quick question, Ms Cass. Do you know how to swim?" I hesitantly nod. I''ve never had an issue with swimming, but I know that wings can be a huge detriment. "Good. Lesson one. Gliding." The ground between us splits with a hardly audible crack, and my half disappears, leaving me suspended in the air for a moment. In a moment passes in almost comical slow motion as I begin to fall. All the while staring at the smiling face of my boss.
The moment passes and I''m tumbling through the air, my half outstretched wings making the wind buffet me around helplessly. I''m far too surprised to cry out, and I''ve taken control by the time the impulse has passed. I panic, though, windmilling my arms and trying to flap my wings. It''s a pointless exercise as I have none of the instincts that would allow me to even have wings. I push out my wings as far as they can go, extending the limbs to their limit. My rotation slows and I quickly default to falling head first, my wings keeping my orientation straight. I can see downwards properly, and as Declan hinted, I can see an expansive ocean stunted only by the cliff face I''m Falling parallel to.The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. It''s far away, so far that I''m still probably not even halfway there. The scale of height I''m falling through finally hits me, and my jumbled stomach finally protests enough for me to do something about it. My eyes can''t stay open with the wind hitting me at the speed in going, and shouting them alleviates thenausea. I have time to try and alter my wings slightly, so I bend and flex my new muscles in tandem, panicking ever so slightly the entire time. The goal here is obviously to slow my descent enough to survive hitting the water. I''ve stopped accelerating, so all I have to do is drop my current speed by about half. With a gargantuan effort, I curl my body back so that I''m in the stereotypical skydiver''s position on my front. I realise the issue all too late and the force of the wind pushes my wings far back instantly, nearly crippling them. -49hp "AUGHHHH!" My wings are useless. One is obviously broken somewhere and I can feel an intense grinding somewhere, and the other is probably torn somewhere deep. "DECLAN! HELP!" He''s my only chance at this point. My wings are too weak to fly, and my body is too weak to land in one piece. I trust that he won''t let me die during a lesson, but I''m running out of time. I open my eyes for a second, and I''m no longer calling alongside a cliff over an ocean, but falling over the original landscape. And I''m falling slower. Much slower. The wind buffeting me is slowing me enough that the sinking feeling is gone. I can see Declan not far below me, his sword is drawn and he''s waving it around in smooth looking motions, the blade glowing blue slightly. I''m lowered onto the ground gently, and the wind suddenly disappears, letting my wings fall painfully to the ground. -11hp "Ow." Declan crouches next to me as I push myself up to my knees. "So, I''m sorry about that. Apparently, you need more than 25 body to fly. Here, let me speed that up." A soothing coolness spreads from the base of my wings throughout my body. A stream of green numbers also flicker past my vision as well. +10hp +9hp +8hp +7hp +6hp +5hp +5hp +5hp +5hp "There you go. A rather simple healing spell, but it depends heavily on the recipient''s body stat. The effectiveness drop-off is quite savage." I tuck my wings up and return them to where they were when I wore my coat, against my butt and legs. I stand with surprising ease, stretching slightly as all my tensed muscles make me feel constricted. "What do you mean drop-off? And can I learn that spell?" Declan crosses his arms, switching into what I hope is teacher mode. "The drop-off of a spell is the point where it becomes less effective. For healing spells, at a point, it heals less no matter how much mana you pour into it. That spell starts to drop-off almost immediately, and it drops off by about 50%." According to the numbers that I read while trying not to focus on my aching wings, that makes sense. "In terms of whether you can learn it, that depends on if you chose a class. I was a healer when I was younger, then I picked up a sword and became a spellsword. Since then, I''ve changed my class several times, and am now a Lancer Commander. There are some perks to not choosing a class, but I personally recommend you do." "Wait, you can change class?" He seems surprised. Despite him knowing my situation, he must have expected this to have already been told to me. "You can. When you reach level 20 of your class, you can drop the class, or change it for another. It''s a bit more complicated than just that, but you can have many classes throughout your life." "What about spells?" "Well, like skills, some of them will remain if you lose the class." "Sorry, I mean, can you teach me about them? I don''t really know what mana is or how it works." "Ah." Declan steps back and furrows his brow. "I suppose that magic can be the focus of today. I feel I owe you that since your... the... falling incident." He kneels quickly and brings up the display of glowing runes again. A quick flurry of motions later and I feel a slight rumble beneath me. The green landscape flickers, and we''re suddenly back in the black metal cube that I saw the younger soldiers training in. Rows of chairs and a series of chalkboards appear. I smile at how familiar the new classroom seems. It''s nostalgic for many reasons. The number of times I''ve taught in similar places makes me feel warm. I could spend all day swimming in my memories. "Ms Cass. Please take a seat." I shake off the comforting images in my mind and sit on a chair, standing immediately as I sit directly on my wings. It takes a minute of rearranging my feathered limbs and trying to sit until I''m comfortable. I look up to Declan standing at one of the chalkboards, using a blue piece of chalk to draw all kinds of complicated diagrams, formulas and images. I sigh internally. As exciting as the concept of magic is, I have a feeling this is going to be the least exciting side of it. Chapter 9 - Im Leading "Everything in this world can be divided into two things: Objects, and energy. Objects are physical things, like you or me, like the desks or your clothes. If you can touch it, it''s an object. Energy is what makes things happen, and it takes several forms. Lightning, heat, sound and mana are some of them. "Mana is something that exists everywhere. There''s some in the air, and there''s some in us. For sentiments, our mana is stored in our brains. Because the mind stat affects the brain, the better your stat, the better your brain, so the better your mana storage. Something little known is that we get mana from the air via our souls. The more powerful your soul, the more mana it can take from the air." He pauses to take a few breaths and to make sure he still has my attention. He has it for sure, but I have to remind myself to take everything he says with a pinch of salt. While he is probably one of the smartest people around, the way he sees the world is on par to how a mid-14th-century scientist might. He''s probably right about how mana is just another form of energy, and how my stats work with mana, but not much else. He points his chalk at a diagram of a piece of fabric dissolving. "Mana is the only energy that can become an object. Using the mana from our bodies, we can force mana to become solid and use it as a shield, we can make it into another type of energy and throw lightning, or fire at someone. We can make it a liquid and then take energy back from it and freeze it. There are endless possibilities for mana use, and all fit within the eight schools of magic." He shifts his pointer from the detailed diagram to a 2¡Á4 grid, each square filled with a symbol and several lines of writing after each one. I raise my hand, and he points at me, answering me before I can even ask the question. "Don''t worry about your lack of literacy. I''ll explain each. As long as you can identify the school by the symbol, there is no issue." I nod, memorizing the symbols. There''s a shield, an eye, a star, an orb on a stand, a fire, an interlinking circle and square, a skull, and finally a wavy spiral. I can guess one or two of them just from the idea of magical disciplines I knew of on earth, but they mostly confuse me. "First is Abjuration, the shield. Form a barrier of mana to protect someone or something. Second is illusion, the eye. Make someone see something that isn''t there. This also extends to the other senses. Advanced illusion spells can make you hear, smell and even feel something that isn''t real." I raise my hand again. I''m laughing inside at how I''m suddenly a student in a new world. He pauses when he sees me and motions for me to speak. "Does that mean that spells can also make you taste something that isn''t there?" He falters for a second. "I suppose... but the important thing is that you can alter sight. The third school is enchantment, the star. This can either be an enhancement or a runic engraving. We use both here, and both can offer all kinds of bonuses. Notoriously difficult to make work though. Now, the fourth school is Divination, the sight. This is a rare school to invest in because there''s not really a combat potential. Spells allow you to see the future, or to see something somewhere else. "School five is Evocation, the fire. This is a popular one. Basically, it''s using mana to destroy things. Push enough energy into it to make it explode, or push enough energy around it to set it on fire. School six, the links is transmutation. This school is about changing things into other things. Turn metal into wood, or sand into black powder. It requires an in-depth knowledge of the substance though." I feel this is immediately a good school for me to go into if I ever have the chance. Earth-level knowledge of materials is hundreds of years ahead of what it is here. I understand the fundamentals of matter, so changing it via energy transference seems doable. "School seven is necromancy, the skull. Turn mana into the energy of life, and raise the dead. Now, this is a controversial school at best. Most governing bodies are against it being used outside of monitored circumstance. As a freelance mercenary group though, we don''t answer to them. And as such, we always have a few necromancers on hand for emergencies." Again, this seems like a good fit for me, but for an odd reason. If I can find and resurrect my old bodies while keeping the power they once held, I could make a name for myself. With all my modern knowledge, which is futuristic to them, I could rule. Could being the key word there. I have no desire to run anything. Right now, I just want to learn and kill. In that order. "The final school is Conjuration, the portal. Bring something into being from beyond. This is a theoretical school more than anything. As has as I know, very little progress has ever been made in this school. The greatest conjurers ever only reported being able to make small quantities of basic materials appear. "A shame to be sure, but aside from these eight schools and their respective users, there are a vast number of ways to combine these schools. For example, this room is filled with so much magic that the only school we don''t utilise in some way is necromancy. Although most of it is transmutation." I raise my hand again. While this lecture on magic theory is... probably useful, I''m not interested in it all that much.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. "What about casting spells? How does that work?" Declan grins, visibly becoming more excited. "Excellent question Ms Cass. Truly, that us the big question. We have all this mana around us and all this mana inside us, but how do we make them interact?" He flips over the chalkboard he''s closest to, and to my surprise, there is a diagram of a brain on the other side. I didn''t even notice him draw it before. "The answer is: will. You must will for something to happen for it to actually happen." I tilt my head in confusion. As far as I know, if I will for something to happen, that''s the same as me wanting it to happen. And I want these spells to work for me. Thankfully, Declan notices my confusion and looking exasperated, elaborates. "Think of it like this. Subconsciously, you''re willing your body to do things. When you were a baby, you would have had to will every movement that wasn''t basic instinct. For the first years you were learning to walk, your infantile mind was figuring out how to will your body to move. "At this point though, that''s all subconscious. All you have to do to cast a spell is will your body to cast it." It''s a step in the right direction. Another puzzle piece fits into place, but I''m still not seeing the full picture. "What if I don''t know what ''it'' is though? Like, I don''t know what the spell does, so how do I know what I want my body to do?" "That''s a matter of intelligence. I assume you have a spell available that you would like to cast but cannot?" I nod, eager to get a real instruction on casting. "Your status can tell you about the spell in more detail if you don''t know it. Alternatively, all known spells can be researched in the library." "We have a library!?" Declan laughs lightly and shakes his head. "Of course. We are not the savages many assume us to be. Although until you learn the written language, I fear it may be of little use to you." Reluctantly, I have to agree. I love library''s as they are the epicentre of learning, but what might very well be my most important visit ever will have to be on hiatus. "Will you teach me?" He shakes his head gravely. His expression seems to have dropped somewhat. "Make no mistake here Ms Cass. I''m not your personal tutor. I am giving you a specialised course to solidify your qualification for the position of First Lieutenant. There are many on the base who can teach you whatever you want to know. But when it comes to what separates you from the rest, I will take over. You have an above average mind stat for your age and level, so I''m teaching you advanced magic theory. If you can keep up with this, and I can see you have been, then you can keep up with my lessons." He looks terribly serious, but his tone is positive. He''s a stern teacher, and I can tell he cares. I remain silent though. He''s reminded me of the one lie I still haven''t cleared up with Mary. They still think I''m around level 40 when I''m still actually only level 10. The silence extends into awkward territory, but Declan looks to have no intention of speaking. He looks like he expects me to say something. And I do want to say something. "I have one final question, and I''m not sure why it wasn''t my first. Why do you want me to become your Lieutenant? I''m an amnesia victim, who could have no experience in leadership. We know I can fight, but for all we know, I''m behind the undead hordes. So, why me?" Declan sighs and places the chalk on a small shelf at the bottom of his chalkboard. He takes a few steps towards me, and with a motion of his hands, uses the air to drag a chair towards him. He takes a seat opposite me and stares into my eyes. I feel like he''s looking deeper than just my face, and while I feel this is just another intimidation method, It''s still frighteningly effective. "I won''t lie to you Ms Cass, you''ve earnt that at least. I suspect you have something to do with the undead, or at least you knew more than we did at the start. Your circumstances are bizarre, to say the least. Someone of incredible and unexplainable power springs up out of nowhere in an area where they shouldn''t be with no recollection of the past. You are assumed to be a recruit who was damaged and were given powerful implants with accompanying gear. "This is no mere coincidence, Ms Cass. The moment you came into this base, I was consulted. Your wounds healed faster than they had any right to, and as the spellsword instructor, I was asked to see if you had some passive spell. Finding not a hint of mana manipulation on your behalf, I could only assume your soul was leaps and bounds ahead of your other stats." He waits for my reaction, and aside from some mild interest in what happened while I was unconscious, I''m unfazed. If Declan really is the Lancer General, and the leader of the mercenaries, some underlying plot like the one being revealed to me is rather on par with my expectations. Keeping his gaze up, Declan co tiniest with his revelation. "Due to your injuries, I gathered your body stat was so low that you must have been some anomaly or experiment. So I took a gamble on you. Either you would wake up and kill several of my personnel before you were subdued and questioned, or you would be recruited with no questions asked. Somehow, you took the third option which didn''t exist. With no memories, I had no way to know what you were. I allowed you to get your gear and your implants, and I deliberately sent your division to where I knew a thrall would appear. "It was a test. Admittedly, it went wrong, as I hadn''t anticipated the Wraith Lord showing up too. But while I lost several of my more powerful Spellswords, I discovered the new potential in you. With a soul powerful enough to manifest wings, you would be the first to rise up. And I would teach you how. In return, I would have your loyalty. With you as my right hand, I needn''t send out so many of my mercenaries with the knowledge they might die." His voice has taken on a pleading tone. Despite the almost sinister way in which he has revealed his plan, I feel sympathy for him. The man has lived for so long in a position of leadership that I couldn''t imagine the number of lives he knows have died under his rule. In regards to whether I will fight for him, I have no reason to refuse. I had planned to fight as a mercenary for the time being anyway. "Ms... Ventra Cass. Knowing this, and knowing that I will never lie to you again, will you become my First Lieutenant?" I sit still and silent. He looks down, his facade fading. "Of course." He stands, smiling faintly. He stifles it quickly, but I can see this is a huge relief to him. If I even cared about holding grudges anymore, I might let one evolve. But it would be a mutually beneficial relationship, so I can''t really stand to dislike the guy. I loathe needless death, and I can help with that if I agree. "Thank you, Lieutenant. You''ve done my people a great service." He puts his hand on my shoulder, and I appreciate the contact. "I have a quick question though, and I swear it''s the last one today." He motions for me to go ahead, and I do, all the while fearing he might laugh. "I don''t know how I''ve never heard it, but... what is our mercenary group actually called?" "What? No, nevermind. I can understand how you wouldn''t have heard. People outside of leadership rarely mention the actual name. We are called the Aesterian League. And on that point, I think the lesson for today is over. I recommend you take that young man who has been watching us and get him to teach you how to read and write. I''ll see you tomorrow." Chapter 10 - Im Trying Declan clicks his fingers and the entire room reverts back to its default blank cube. He nods to me once, then leaves. I stay for a moment, thinking about what''s happened. Some, but not all of my secrets have been revealed and considered by the man who threatens my existence the most. But I have been accepted. And trusted. I hold the potential for an incredibly rare power to manifest within me and I plan to take full advantage of that. "Uh, Ventra?" I open my eyes, unaware they were shut, and look to the doorway. Michael is standing there, arms crossed and looking more than a little pissed. I don''t want to talk to him right now. He''s going to have so many questions for me that I''ve already answered. But I can''t run from this. If I want any sort of meaningful relationship with him, I can''t brush him off. I smile weakly at him and wall over, picking up my coat which is discarded in the dirt. I''m vaguely aware that my wings are on full display, and I struggle temporarily to tuck them back up. "Michael, I..." I don''t know how to finish the sentence. Michael, I''m sorry I lied about what I discussed with Mary. Michael, I''m sorry I didn''t tell you about the wings. Michael, I''m actually an immortal being from another world that passes from body to body when I die. None of those sentences will make anything better, so I just keep walking towards him, putting on my coat, and hoping he doesn''t walk away. "Thank Alo you''re ok." He steps forwards and embraces me, every bit as gentle yet firm as Michael is. "Instructor Declan is a real bastard. I saw you fall, and your wings... I didn''t even know you had wings." He''s smiling into my neck, and ever the quick thinker, I''m stunned. I expected accusations of betrayal, which I would be able to deal with, but this is... different. I return the affection as best I can despite him trapping my arms at my sides by wrapping my wings around him like arms, judging it at least to be a good exercise in control. "I haven''t had them for long." "I can tell. You fell like a baby bird." He immediately backtracks, realising he could have insulted me with his comment. "I- I mean a cute bird. A really pretty one." I giggle into his shoulder, unable to keep my giddy joy suppressed. He relaxes when he figures out how well I''ve taken it, which causes me to relax too. Michael is an innocence I need. "Shut up you dumbass, and come on. You know how to read, right?" I pull away and walk past him out of the box. I''m halfway up the stairs before I hear him follow me. "Uh, yeah. Why?" I turn back around, letting my wings fill the staircase behind me. "Teach me."
The library is not what I imagined. What I love about library''s is how comfortable I can get there. The library owned by Declan though is... slightly less accommodating. Where there should be wooden shelves and isles or walls full of books, there is a series of long, narrow rooms leading off in all directions from a central hub. Dozens of large chests line these long rooms, an I can tell the books are in there. There''s nowhere to sit, and there''s nowhere to relax. Michael seems happy enough in the dreary place and is chatting animatedly as he walks back and forth, collecting books from chests. His small stack slowly builds up as I just stand in the small hub, trying to decipher the signs that I''m sure should be directing me to the genres contained writhing this... mockery of a library. "I used to come here a lot while I was learning how to use skills and stuff. There''s a load of instructional books, but it can take forever if you just want one page in a book of a hundred. And that''s even if the book is actually relevant. It''s hard to know sometimes." Sounds like this place could benefit from the Dewey decimal system. With a stack of old looking books in one hand, he grabs mine with the other and leads me back out of the ''library''. "The only place to sit and study is our common room. It''ll be quiet while they''re still fighting." I''m eager to relax. I feel like I haven''t had the chance to just sit and chill for a long, long time. Today feels like it''s gone on for far too long, to the point that only my many instances of military training are keeping me alert. The journey to what Michael called a common room is short but lively. Michael appears to be excited at the concept of teaching and I can''t blame him. Teaching was one thing that usually resulted in me living a fulfilling life without having to kill excessively. Usually. The common room itself is large, with a low ceiling. Sofas that look far comfier than our bunks are scattered around tables or against walls. A few taller tables are supporting a game of red and black shapes that reminds me of snooker, but with cylinders and pyramids instead of spheres. The cues are even weirder and have two tips separated in a V-shape near the end. I''ve only played the bar game once or twice and had no affinity for it, so my interest halts at the observational stage. Aside from that, the room is empty. There are no others in the room and I know it''s because they''re probably still fighting. I should feel guilty that they might be dying while I stay back at base, knowing I could make a difference, but I have too much on my mind to do that.This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. Michael quickly settles down, spreading the books over a table, setting himself down and indicating I join him. Well, I''ve learnt most languages there are. What''s one more? I smirk at my terrible logic and click my neck, trying to get rid of some of the tension that''s been building. One mild success later, and I''m ready. Michael is brandishing a handful of yellowish paper and a thin stick of charcoal at me, a stupid grin on his face. "Come on. I''ll be a good teacher, I promise." He winks at me, which I will admit, he pulls off better than I thought he might. "Fine, but I expect you to refer to me as Lieutenant Cass." His grin falters and he stops waving the stationary at me. "You got promoted? To First Lieutenant!?" His volume and pitch rise sharply in surprise. I wince, but I can tell from his tone he''s more surprised than anything else. "I did. I impressed Instructor Declan somehow. Apparently, it was a test to see if I was eligible for the place. I still have to ask him like a billion ques-" I''m cut off by Michael ambushing me with a tight hug around my waist. He lifts me up before I can protest and I involuntarily yelp in surprise. He''s laughing and I soon am too. Something about his happiness is infectious and despite how he''s crushing my wings, I''m happy that he seems to care so much about what''s happening to me. He lets me down suddenly, his expression strangely serious. "Ventra, I... the past two days have felt like a dream. Something about you is so impossible, and I''m... I''m just happy I''m along for the ride. I really like being around you, and, I don''t know, I guess I want it to stay like that." His innocence damn near brings a tear to my eye. It''s not unusual for someone to act like this around me. My constantly mysterious origins do something to people that makes them so infatuated they lose some sense of reality. This world is scary with how different everything is, but to have someone like Michael like this is a comfort. I wrap my own arms around his shoulders, gently pushing his head towards mine with my fingertips. "Well, Why don''t we see if the bunks are as empty as the common room is?" Michael''s eyes widen slightly, but the slight smile that forms is all the confirmation I need. But I push him away and sit quickly in front of the books. "Later though. I need to learn how to read." He looks disappointed but slightly amused. I don''t blame him. It would be a lie to say I don''t want to share my bed with him in the near future, but I know how to prioritise. "Fine, but only because you''re my superior, Lieutenant Cass." Grinning at each other, we both settle down for what I hope to be an easy lesson.
What follows instead, is almost two full hours of frustration of the language they use here. By some divine luck, the spoken language is the exact same as English, one of the languages I''m most fluent in. Unfortunately, by some satanic bad luck, the written language is unlike anything I''ve ever seen before, and I''ve seen hundreds of languages. Literally, hundreds. Hesh, the language of humans is apparently the most widely spoken on this planet, namely due to humans being the most common species. This is also apparently only due to humans having fertility much higher than most other species. But that was just general knowledge bestowed by Michael at the beginning of the lesson. The lesson itself began as a minor nuisance and quickly evolves into a headache. The issue with Hesh as a language is that it''s based upon syllables much like mandarin, but the symbols and figures depend on where they are in correlation to whatever is in front of and after it. It''s a circular way of thinking where I have to think of each word as a whole instead of reading it from the beginning or the end. In the two hours, I manage to pick up a little. Enough that I can write my own name according to how I spell it. I''m sure that when Mary wrote it down the previous day, it was different, but I can''t tell why. Thoroughly focused-out, Michael lets me rest by taking me back to the cafeteria where we had breakfast. Since then, one of the plain walls has opened up into a bar of sorts. Wooden stools and a few small tables are arranged in a large recess in what I had falsely assumed to be solid metal. There''s no-one manning it, but I can see an array of glasses and bottles on the shelves. "What is this?" Michael essentially jumps for joy at my acknowledgement and pushes me closer to the bar. "I knew you would be able to see it! You''re going to love this." Past the boundary of the wall, the pressure on my back lessens and turning around, Michael is staring past me with his hands pushed up against the air like it was a wall. "Michael?" There''s no reply from him. No indication that he even acknowledges me at all. Hesitantly, I reach out my finger slowly. As soon as it passes the point that Michaels'' hands stop at, his attention snaps to it. His mouth moves, but I can''t hear him at all. I walk back through the invisible barrier and he grins at me. "What is this?" Michael pushes on an invisible barrier and leans against it. "This is the worst kept secret among management. This is the Lancers Bar. Rumour has it the Lancer himself designed and built this bar so he could relax near the rest of us without being bothered by us. But he doesn''t come here anymore, and so it''s only accessible by a select few and the higher-ups." "So because I''m a Lieutenant, I can enter it?" "And you can see it. All I see here is a normal wall." He reinforces the point by knocking on the air, hard enough that a hollow metallic ring echoes through the empty room. "Why did you bring me here?" It''s not that I wouldn''t like a drink, but I feel like Michael has some anterior motive. "Because I think you''ve deserved a drink. I remember learning to read and write, and it wasn''t fun. Also... I haven''t been in there for a while." His bright expression dulls, and he takes on the same expression I do when I''m reminiscing. "I used to be friends with the previous First Lieutenant. He tutored a few of us from a young age. The ones who were sold here when they were babies. When he deemed me old enough to drink, he and his students would come here every day." He lets his hand trail slowly down the space where he sees a wall. I feel sorry for him, and I can''t call it a moment of weakness. Michael is a genuinely nice person and it pains me to see him upset. "So how do I get you in?" He looks at me with a small smile. "This is a militaristic order. Just give me permission." "Ok... Michael, I give you permission to enter the bar." The space he''s landing against suddenly changes for him, and his hand passes through instantly. He stumbles past the wall boundary and I follow, savouring the way he scans the room with a gentle smile. "They changed the tables..." He laughs lightly and practically runs behind the bar. He then leans against it and starts to rub the polished wood with a clean rag he got from somewhere. "You''re new here, stranger. What can I get a lovely lady like you?" I smile seductively and daintily tread my way closer to him, every part a lady. "I have absolutely no idea. What would you expect?" "We have only two drinks, and they both suck. You got either laver or greter." I pretend to consider, but since I have no idea what either of them are, I take the safe option. "I''ll have whatever you''re having." "One of each!" He picks up two shot glasses, and two tall wooden mugs. The shot glasses are filled with a familiar yellowish spirit and the mugs with a carbonated brownish beer. Michael pushes one of each towards me, and downs his shot instantly with a slight grimace. I copy him, only slightly behind and am correct in that it''s the same thing Mary gave to me. With the shots out the way, Michael returns from behind the bar and settles at a nearby table. I join him and he lifts his mug in a familiar cheer. I knock my own mug against his and sit at the same time. "To meeting people in weird places." Amused at the target to his cheer, I offer my own. "And to killing as many of those damn undead as humanly possible... and to you." He blushes a little, but drinks to it, and I take a deep swig of my own drink. Surprisingly, I could categorise it with any other beer from earth. It''s not great, but I don''t dislike it. Michael visibly relaxes, and I do my best to relax too. There are no more overly pressing matters on my mind, and I can look forward to evolving matters further. "So, Michael, tell me something." "What?" "Anything." Chapter 11 - Im a leader, so I will lead Through several rounds of drinks, Michael tells me as much as he can about his world. He purposefully avoids mentioning the specifics of his childhood, so all I know of it is what he mentioned when I asked him about the bar initially. The vast majority of his knowledge is sourced from the mercenary group, so I have to take everything he says with some hidden scepticism. It''s not that I doubt what he is saying is true or not, but I''m not entirely certain everything is correct. This world is indeed called Leden and is made up of one huge landmass, with several bodies of water ranging from rivers to seas and something called the great ocean. There''s a single mountain range called the Impasse, as no one has ever passed it and returned. This specific feature of the planet surrounds the south-most part of the land and is rumoured to be home to all kinds of incredible beasts. It surprises me that not only do the people of Leden know about polar points on a planet, but it is common knowledge to a certain degree. Despite the poles, there seems to be no knowledge of an equator, and I quickly find out why. There doesn''t seem to be any real variation in weather patterns that would deem it necessary to designate an equator. The entire planet excluding a few very rare cases experiences the same weather of a hot summer and a cold winter. Michael describes these seasons as coming and going a lot more abruptly than earth might experience them, but I''m assured that as it''s currently summer, I don''t have to worry about it. Due to the planet having only one continent, the division of land is a bit trickier, not that earth made it look easy. As far as Michael knows, the vast majority of the land is unclaimed. The various species, of course, spread out their borders, but there are a handful of large areas of settlements and kingdoms that can only expand so far and so fast. The main issues seem to be dangerous monsters and a lack of manpower. Despite the dangerous breeding power of humans, the population is rumoured to only grow by a tiny percentage each year. I still feel that eventually, humans will overrun this planet as technology advances, turning it into another version of earth except with magic this time. I decide, as soon as this thought crosses my mind, that I am probably the only person that can prevent that future. I have the knowledge and the capability to stop climate destabilization or pollution and overpopulation from ruining the planet. I can''t count on magic to stop this from happening, so I will. Subtle pushes of higher-ups and a gentle word here or there will do wonders for this world. But if all else fails, I''ll probably be powerful enough by that point to be able to pull off a species-wide culling. The prospect of wiping out masses of my own kind is an unfortunate possibility, but the phrase "for the greater good" comes to mind. If I can keep practising magic, or developing technology my way, I wonder how I might pull it off. I''d want it to be painless certainly, and as instantaneous as I can make it. And so that I don''t let there become some sort of buyable immunity, it will be completely random... Michael clicks his fingers in front of my eyes, making me focus on the here and now. "What on Leden is going on inside that head?" I smile, wondering how he would react to the truth. "I''m just thinking how calm it is right now. With everything that''s happened, this is nice. Relaxing." Michael lifts his almost empty mug of the beer called greter and beams widely. He''s already drunk. Not badly drunk, as he can still talk clearly, but I can see how he says slightly and his eyes are unfocused. I sigh, happily deep in my own inebriation. The beer is strong, and the seemingly unending tap has been used half a dozen times by me already. There''s a moment of silence in which Michael finishes his own drink and I take another swig of my own. When Michael slams his mug down though, his expression towards his empty drink has changed and his eyes are slanted in suspicion. "What''s up Michael? Wondering where your drink went?" He frowns, combining the suspicion with mild irritation. "No... I''m wondering where you came from..." He continues to stare down into his mug, and a chill goes down my spine. I''m immediately nervous around him, the fear of being fought sobering me slightly. "So am I. It''s weird not knowing who I am." The mood has turned sombre, and I''m internally cursing out Michael for both killing the mood and my buzz. But I force myself to calm down. He didn''t mean anything bad, and I''m only ruffled slightly instead of angry. I can even feel with some amusement that the delicate feathers of my wings are actually ruffled but settle back into place as I take another long drink and relax again. This small hidden bar could very quickly become my favourite place. Everything about it is comfortable from the gentle lighting to the warm temperature to the smell of beer and... blood. I take a slightly deeper breath through my nose and there''s definitely the hot metallic scent of blood. It''s subtle, but it''s new. "Michael. Get up." He looks at me inquisitively. He''s probably drunker than he''s letting on, so his reactions are probably dulled. "I smell blood." At the mention, Michael springs to his feet, knocking over his chair and swaying slightly before he steadies himself. "Blood? How? I don''t smell anything." I look carefully through the illusionist barrier behind me. There''s nothing overly strange about the bland scene in front of me. No motion and I can''t hear anything out of the ordinary. But the barrier stops sound. Anything could have happened further into the base in the last hour or so that Michael and I have been here. "Ventra. There''s nothing out there. If something had happened, someone would have sent a base-wide alert." "But would we have heard it?" He looks down at the table, frowning at it as if the table itself held the answers. "I don''t know. I''ve never heard one in here though." I pick up my coat from the back of my chair, after having taken it off due to the warmth provided by the drinks. I briefly wonder how my sword seems to be phasing through the coat and how it was still on my back despite me raking off my coat several times, but I can just dismiss it to magic. If it can escape from sight, I''m sure it can escape from reality. I debate fumbling on my back for my helmet in hopes I can use the aura of awareness for whatever threat I can feel is out there, but I''m still inside. I''m sure I can''t put it on.You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. "Michael, come on. Even if there''s nothing wrong, I want to be sure." He lets his head hang briefly. After a few seconds and a deep breath, he looks at me with his steely gaze, no hint of alcohol influencing him. "Ok. If you think there''s a threat, I''ll trust you." I nod, satisfied he''s on board. I step through the boundary and am immediately bombarded by a screeching alarm and an even louder mechanical voice calmly reading out warnings and instructions. "PERIMETER BREACHES AT CO-ORDINATES A-2 THROUGH C-10. ALL AVAILABLE COMBATANTS DON YOUR HELMETS AND REPORT TO THE INDICATED DANGER ZONE." Michael steps through the wall behind me after just a few seconds. He winced at the noise as soon as he hears it. I haven''t got time to gloat about how right I am, so I find my helmet from my coat and clip it on. Immediately, the sphere of awareness springs up and I can see in my mind that there are five areas in the base that need immediate attention. As a Lieutenant, I apparently have a responsibility to do more than defend each point. I know that I have to learn the weaknesses that we display and act upon them as soon as I can. I''m not sure how to do that, so I just grab Michaels hand and run out of the cafeteria heading towards a glowing red marker in my mind that''s laid upon a full 3-dimensional map of the whole compound. As a high ranking individual, I have access to far more than I would have ever expected the base to hold, but all I can focus on is the four access points, and the one area I know needs my immediate attention. I sprint through corridors, letting the dull walls blur into one seamless journey. At some point, Michael breaks the hand contact and runs aside me, easily keeping up. When I arrive at the marker that needs me in my mind, I''m apparently needed most at the surgery where I got my implants. The waiting room is full of injured mercenaries. Some are just bandaged up, while some have been treated with tonics and some are freely bleeding. I push on into the surgery and am shocked to see Mary on the surgeon''s table, stark naked with her abdomen split open and pulsing. Lich is poking around down there, and she pays me no attention. My gaze falls on her ruined and foul intestines before I focus on her calm and fully conscious face. Her frightening attention falls on me as soon as I enter the room and I''m almost paralysed by the anger inside her eyes. The emotion passes through and she addresses me quickly. Michael bursts into the room and then runs back out again as soon as he sees how naked Mary is. "Ventra... Lieutenant Cass. You have to help them." I nod quickly, shocked by the urgency in her voice and the situation as a whole. Despite the alert and the helpful guidance from my helmet, I have no idea what''s going on. "The undead... divisions 5 to 10 were slaughtered. A Wraith Lord turned up and then an Infected Sieger. We stood no chance on the field." She takes a deep breath that rattles her chest, and Lich shoots a concerning look up at her face. Mary''s breathing settles though and Lich continues to sew up the pulsing flesh. "The Sieger is dead, but there are Wraith lords assaulting each entrance, and thralls supporting half of them. Your helmet is telling you each place you need to go, but I''m asking you to focus on the south entrance. Declan is taking care of the North and East, and the rest of his squad is stationed at the West. Please Ventra, you''re the only one who can kill a Lord available. Take my swords if you want." With a shaking hand, she points next to the surgery door, and I can see an X-shaped scabbard holding two huge claymores each easily larger than the one I wield. Despite her offer, I know her swords will be of no use to me. She is a body user, and my own body stat is pitifully low. My own sword is my only hope to kill another Wraith Lord. I take her hand and lean in so she can hear me. "I promise. Whatever is happening I will do my best to stop it." The once scarily strong woman seems so weak and vulnerable as she smiles at me. "Thankyou Ventra. I knew I was right to trust you..." The effort of speaking to me seems too much and she drifts off, letting her arm hang off the table. Lich looks unconcerned, so I trust that Mary will be ok and turn to leave the surgery. "Wait. Lieutenant." I turn to Lich holding out something to me. It resembles a syringe but has no needle. "This is an adrenaline booster. Put the end against your neck and push the plunger. This is the height of science and magic technology, so make good use of it." I take the odd syringe and put it in an easy to reach pocket. My hand brushes against the eyes of the previous Wraith Lord I fought, reminding me that I even have it. Despite the chilling reminder, my mind is focused on the danger area my helmet has identified as the south-most and I run out of the door as fast as I can, Michael starting after me without any hesitation. "What.. did... Lieutenant... Scott... say?" Michael breathlessly asks between steps as we run. He''s slower than usual due to the sheer volume of alcohol he''s ingested. Despite the impressive amount he''s had, I''m more impressed at how he''s handling the situation. He''s all business and I like that. Sex might have been all that was on his mind earlier, but he''s as serious as I am and that''s going to be useful. I explain the situation to him slowly as we traverse the surprisingly large base. "The support divisions failed. Wraith lords are attacking. We''re heading towards the worst defended site." I can hear what might be a nervous gulp, but Michael doesn''t turn back. If anything, he tries even harder to run straight and keeps up with me. We reach the first body within seconds. The man who had been shot several times with arrows is partially dissolved where the arrowheads pierced him, displaying a corrosive effect in practice. Neither Michael or I do little more than slightly divert attention as we run past. Through subsequent corridors, the number of bodies increases at an impressive rate. Men and women with deadly injuries who have either attempted to retreat or heal themselves have died without attention everywhere I look. At least the sound of fighting has emerged, so I know we''re close. Too many bodies later, Michael and I have reached the bulk of the southern-most combat. The narrow corridors leading to the exit are showing their purpose as three mercenaries standing shoulder to shoulder are able to hold back the undead horde. But the fighting is unbelievably intense for them, and I can see that the mercenaries have staggered their blockades of swords so that as soon as one group needs to fall back, the second group is only a few paces back. The tactic should have allowed for the mercenaries to wear down the mass of bones until their numbers dwindled, but there was a larger issue here. The reason So many had died behind us was that a Wraith Lord was standing motionless at the end of the corridor ahead of us, several rows of mercenaries and nearly a hundred skeletons between us. As soon as we notice each other, I can see the two vertical eyes of the Wraith Lord snap to me. The same yellow and green glints shining from a black canvass. With it''s focus on me, I get an impression of the intelligence it holds. It knows that I am the only real threat to it now. With a hand of too many clawed fingers, it beckons for me to come forward. I''m immediately wary of what seems to be a trap. The Wraith Lord is standing at the end of a T-junction, so there are two areas that I have no knowledge of. The potential for more Wraith lords is there, but I could just be overthinking it. Maybe the Lord is just cocky and thinks that in a straight fight, it is stronger than me. "Michael. Find me some mind swords. Soul ones if you can." Michael is frozen with fear, probably reliving the close call he had with the Wraith Lord previously. "Michael!" I grab his shoulder and shake him until he focuses on me. "Find me the swords. Go!" He immediately looks through the piles of bodies littering the sides of the corridor. Now for the rest of them. "Mercenaries! Fall back to the next strangle point. Charge on my command!" I put on my most imposing voice, and it must have some effect because all the mercenaries not on the front line turn to me and stoically march back through the corridor. As soon as the three fighting reach the point that they would have been subbed out, they do the same as the others and disappear quickly. Michael pops back up into my focus with a stack of swords all in scabbard with severed straps. He''s visibly straining with the weight despite his high body level and special gloves. "Um, why are they all leaving? Ventra? What are you planning?" I don''t answer immediately, just watching the hallway of skeletons advance. I draw my sword slowly, and the Wraith Lord responds by raising its right hand. The skeletons immediately freeze, suspended mid-step by whatever technique the Wraith Lord is using to control them in the first place. "I got two soul blades and nine mind ones. But... Ventra. what''s going on?" Michael has dropped the stack of swords at his feet and pulled out his own. I can tell how nervous he is, despite how drunk he might be, his fear is obvious. He''s never been in an intimidation contest, and I''ll be the first to admit that we have the disadvantage. "Michael. I have a plan. I need you to guard these swords. Cut down anything that gets past me, but if I yell for a mind or soul sword, throw it to me. Blade out." "But-" "I''ll catch it. I need you to trust me. Please." I look back at him, a pleading look in my eyes. I''m not sure if I can win this, but it will be one hell of an achievement if I can. I''m determined to win this. With Michael as my backup and the rest of the rest of the mercenaries as my trump card, I''m confident I can kill the Lord challenging me. Whether or not I can keep this entrance contained is another story. I just don''t know enough about the situation to accurately evaluate my chances. Michael nods and kisses me gently on the cheek. It''s the most sentimental thing he''s shown me so far, giving me another piece of motivation. I like Michael, I can see our relationship going far. I have soldiers under my command, but I won''t send them to their death. I am a leader, and I will do my damn best to make sure as many people survive this as possible. Chapter 12 - Im Damaged A stalemate. The Wraith Lord and I both stand at opposite ends of the hallway, holding out our swords, pointed at each other. An army of skeletons on his side, and Michael on mine. There are a tense few seconds where neither side moves, but the silence is broken by one on the skeletons literally falling apart for no reason. Instantly, the rest burst into action and start to march towards me. I hesitate, doubting my own ability to pull this off, but I have to trust in what I know I can do. In that second, I swing my sword violently upwards, twisting as my sword is vertical, and then arcing my sword around at a slightly different angle. The golden arc travels most of the way down the hallway, obliterating a good third of the skeletons. The second swing kills a few more, but since half were close to the walls, they are relatively unharmed. I can''t pull off a horizontal swing due to the narrow hallway, so I charge instead, deciding to remove these undead figures from existence one by one. I charge at the nearest moving pile of bones and slice neatly through it, showering the far reaches of the narrow room with odds and ends of white matter. I systematically work my way through the corridor, cutting through the densest areas of bone. Dozens of kill notifications flood my vision, but I''m too focused on reality to let the messages bother me. Finally, I''m face-to-face with the Wraith Lord. Its green and yellow eyes pierce into my own gaze, and I enter a defensive stance, initiating a challenge to it. I can see more skeletons on either side of it as well as several more threatening undead down each of the paths of the T-junction ahead of me. "Come on you shadowy bastard." In response, the Wraith Lord coats the surrounding area with a flood of shadows, dropping my visibility massively. The lights above me are still shining, but only slightly. I grimace in the dark. I didn''t expect this, and the Wraith Lord has the definite advantage here. At least I can still see its eyes. In the dim light, I can see a spike of shadow shoot towards me, and I twist my body to avoid it. "Michael! Mind sword!" I look behind me, and a silver blade shoots through the dim light like a bullet. I manage to catch the hilt of it with my non-dominant hand, spinning to reduce the massive force behind the throw. At the apex of my spin, I release the sword after filling it with as much energy as I can. The sword must be relatively weak because bright blue cracks arc up the blade from where I''m gripping it. I''m shocked by the violent reaction and immediately know it''s going to explode. Before it breaks, though, I throw it towards the green and yellow lights that signify the Wraiths eyes. A blade of pure darkness passes in front of the oncoming sword, and slashes it, causing an explosion of neon blue light and glowing metal pieces to spread from the Lord. It seems unperturbed, so I shout for another mind blade. I catch the second blade but hold it instead of throwing it. A spread of shadows reach for me so I jump back and use both my swords to slash them to pieces. The shadows dissolve into nothing as soon as I cut through them. Worryingly there is a surprising amount of resistance to both my swords. My powerful soul blade managed to cut through the shadow blade of the previous Lord, but I doubt that will work if it can prepare for such an assault. Darkness is the biggest issue as the shadows begin to smother the overhead lights. I fill the mind sword with energy again, slowly so that I can better gauge how much it can take. My issue is that while the Wraith Lord can cut away one sword, I know that another will affect it. But I don''t want to throw my soul blade, neither do I want to put it back in its sheath. My last option is a full-on sword fight against an enemy I know next to nothing about. I have very little idea about its durability, it''s abilities, or how it wields its sword. All I do know is that its attacks are scarily fast and sharp. I can see it gathering sharp waves of shadow around it again, whipping them around the base of its cloak. "Come on, you charcoal piece of shit. Attack me. Michael! Mind!" Before it can throw more shadows at me, I hurtle forwards, throwing my second charged kind sword at it. I look back a second too slow to catch the sword Michael hurls at me, and I can only watch helplessly as it does no more than skid to a stop just ahead of me. The sword I threw does slightly more. The shadows already in motion react defensively, attempting to intercept the sword instead of me. Each midnight-black spike carves a new glowing blue groove into the weakened metal, and it finally explodes when the Wraith Lord slashes it apart again with ease. "Shit." Apparently, since the enemy is targeting me, it won''t be as easy to surprise. There is no doubt in my mind that throwing two swords at once will do nothing more than lose me my strongest weapon. Bored with how we''ve been proceeding, the Wraith takes a long step forward, advancing on me with frightening speed. "Oh shit oh shit... Michael! Two more mind swords!" I turn away from the source of darkness and sheathed my sword. It''s a risky move, but I need both hands free for my plan. Michael has learnt to not go so overboard with his assistance and I catch both swords with ease. I spin again and stab both the swords into the floor as hard as I can. The metal of the base resists at first but allows the swords to be firmly jammed in once I let in a little power. As soon as they are firmly grounded, I then pour energy into them, letting both swords crumble under my grip, turning them into little more than blue beacons. Beacons that are filled with volatile energy. "Now one of the soul ones! No, both!" "But-" "Both!" I don''t let Michael argue with me anymore. Almost reluctantly, he throws the two soul swords to me and I pull off the exact same manoeuvre just behind the two saturated mind blades. Unlike the blue cracks that spread randomly down the metal, the soul blades react differently as I fill them. Golden flaws do appear in them, but the lines are all angular and run parallel to each other, crossing at identical angles. The blades seem to grow, lengthening and widening in the ground. But I can feel them becoming less stable. The metal is beginning to shake. I let go of them, and thankfully the golden lines remain. I''ll have to ask... whoever the living expert on soul is around here about the swords. Later though. The Wraith Lord approaches the grounded mind swords with some caution. Maybe it recognises that it''s a very unsubtle trap, but since it''s not tearing through the swords one by one with its shadows, I can only hope it''s reacting with equal parts wariness and curiosity. I start to sprint away from the Lord, spurring it to move faster. Over my shoulder I can see it gathering the shadows onto its body, thickening its armour. It''s trying to tank whatever damage it might sustain. I breathlessly reach Michael and push him back into the branch of the corridor, so that he''s standing with the rest of the nervous looking mercenaries. "Stay here. When I give you the signal, charge." Michael grabs my hand before I can run back to the remaining swords. "Wait. What''s the signal?" Tempted to fulfil the same stereotype that I had seen a dozen times in films, I debate whether to tell him that he''ll know the signal when it happens. Then I realise that''s incredibly stupid. This is literally a life or death situation. "There''s going to be an explosion. A big one hopefully. Everyone! When you hear it, charge!" I get a few silent nods and a concerned one from Michael. I like the guy but can tell he worries for me way more than he should. I run back to the pile of mind swords and pick up the top two. Looking down the dark hallway, I can see the Wraith Lord has slowly edged its way through the basic barricade of swords and is watching me as it stands still, keeping the shadows wrapped around it. I grimace and charge up both the swords, rolling my shoulders in preparation of an epic throw or two.This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. The Wraith Lord waits for me, keeping its defences high. With less than twenty feet between us, I''m comfortably out of range of its sharp shadows, but it is also far away enough to deflect my swords. So I take off running, only a few steps to build up momentum before I spin on my toes and throw first my right sword, then the left, aiming both at the dark centre of mass. But as I throw the second sword, I draw my own soul blade and with a neat flick, throw that too. But my second target isn''t the Wraith Lord, but the fully charged swords behind it. As I expected, the shadows coating the dark figure shift towards the front as the piloting skeleton breaks both the swords aimed at it. The blue explosions mask my final throw and my sword flies past it with a dull flash and impacts the first of the charged soul blades. Having been in more than enough explosions, I know to shut my eyes and influence my jaw. In my anticipation of the final throw, though, I forget to cover my ears. A flash shears through even my closed eyes, and I feel the shockwaves blow me back into the far wall. -162hp -51hp Deafened (0:39) I collapse to the floor a numb mess. I can''t see what happened due to a wall of dust rolling towards me, an I can''t hear anything through the static running through my head. I push myself into a sitting position slowly, noticing something soft and wet under my hands. I come to the conclusion that it''s either part of my own or someone else''s body as a slight rumble and passing of shadows tells me that the mercenaries have charged. I haven''t seen a notification that the Wraith is dead, so I can only hope that I did enough damage to weaken it enough for the rest of them. I sit against the wall for somewhere between seconds and minutes. At some point, my hearing returns, and the dust settles. Darker shadows cover the walls than before. Probably a defence mechanism of the Wraith Lord. I can hear the sounds of combat, but one by one, I hear voices cry out in pain and then fall silent. Tears begin to run down my face as feeling returns to my body, my mind slowly shaking off the shellshock. In the initial explosion, I took a huge amount of damage, most likely due to the shockwaves messing with my internals. It hurts to breathe and do anything else that involves shifting my torso. When I hit the wall, I could tell that I''d broken something. It''s only as I slowly poke and prod at my limbs that I figure out how bad it is. Both of my wings are broken in several places, and I''m sure I''ve hurt my non-dominant forearm somehow. I ease myself to my feet. They still need my help, so now is as good a time as any for the trump card. I pull the syringe-like contraption from my pocket. Mercifully, it''s unharmed. Curiously, there''s no needle on it, just a small blue ring where I would expect one to be. I shrug, then wince at how it aggravates my arm and put it against my neck. One hard push on the plunger, and through some magic, the adrenaline enters my bloodstream. For a few seconds, there''s nothing. I take a deep breath and cough, blood spraying down my chin. A deep chill comes over me, but I know it''s from the bleeding rather than the chemical. I can feel my heart thudding in my chest. Fear is gripping me. It''s not the fear of death or pain, it''s the fear of leaving this all behind. *ba-bump* *ba-bump* *bump* *bump* *bump-bump-bump* Adrenaline booster has successfully taken effect. - Health regen +500% (0:05) - Health regen +50% (5:00) - Sensory overload II (5:00) - Pain resistance III (2:00) - Body efficiency +100% (0:30) - Energy overload II (5:00) Fire and ice course through my body and I scream as the bones in my body knit themselves back together. It''s a slow process. Painfully slow. After the first five seconds of higher health regeneration, I''m back in fighting shape. I''m by no means close to full health, but my body responds and the pain resistance means that any lingering injuries don''t hold me back. Spurred by the energy coursing through me and the high boost to my body stat, I grab the first two swords off the ground that I can find and sprint into the darkness. I can hear only a few laboured breaths around me. Two people are still fighting with the Wraith Lord. The sensory increase allows me to differentiate between them, and to my chagrin, I know that one of them is Michael. He must be operating only by his helmets awareness sphere, an impressive feat. I can see his silhouette and that of another soldier as they take turns marrying and countering the attacks of the figure shrouded in black. I charge up both swords, with only the one in my left hand responding and glowing blue. The one in my right must be a body sword, but I''ll adapt. I use the blue glow as a source of light to illuminate the hallway as I approach, hopping over a sizeable dent left behind by the explosion. The mercenaries notice my approach too late as I leap between them, holding both swords in front of me, turning myself into a double-headed spear. Both swords shear through the weak shadows coating the skeleton underneath, and it collapses back, both swords poking out of its ribcage. I overcharge the mind sword, detonating the metal. The force is focused away from me, and I sustain no damage as the black bones shatter under the force. I start to pull away with my remaining sword when a dagger of darkness is shoved deep into my back just above my wings. -63hp The coat failed to provide any defence which I despise it for, but I got a good hit on the Wraith Lord. With all its shadows hiding it from the light, its individual defence is weak enough that I could remove half of its torso with one sword. It still doesn''t appear to have died though, as the familiar yellow and green eyes gleam at me from the charcoal skull. Knowing how low my health is, I grab the bone hand holding the dagger and keep it in my side. I then quickly shuffle my body around so that I have a good grip on the wrist and have braced my feet against the remaining half of its ribcage. I can hear a cry of surprise or maybe just bewilderment as I begin to strain all my muscles, trying to tear the arm from the squirming and kicking Wraith Lord. Its free arm is waving weakly, damaged by the sword. It can''t do much except struggle uselessly as I straighten out my body, and with a silent final jerk, tear the arm off at the elbow. The dagger in my side suddenly dissipates and I can feel blood running down my side. Bleeding (1:00) I frantically open my status, but I still have just over four minutes of increased healing which is more than enough to counter the bleeding effect. I still attempt to hold it shut through sheer reflex though. "Ventra. What was that?" There are arms on my shoulders and the light level begins to increase. The shadows on the walls and ceiling are dissipating into the air. Michael looks at me, concern and a hint of fear on his face. From his perspective, I must have shown up from nowhere as a veritable missile of blue energy that then decided to wrestle an undead of incredible power. Speaking of the undead, I look down at the disarmed Wraith Lord properly for the first time. With half of its torso blown apart, and one of its arms torn off, it seems unable to control shadows anymore, and once all the shadows have disappeared, all that remains is a skeleton of matte black bones with a yellow and green set of eyes staring at me. It''s still moving slightly, but I can see it''s no longer a threat. But I remember Michaels question and fumble to answer it with my whole body still pumping in time with my heart. "That was um... So Lich gave me this adrenaline booster, and after I got blown away, I used it and... wow, I tore its arm off." I realise I''m still holding the forearm and hand of the skeleton, each individual piece of bone somehow held together by an invisible force. "We should finish it. I... can''t, Michael. You do it." I step back out of his reach and lean against a wall, trying to figure out how bad the come down is going to be. A mix of emotions fly through Michaels'' face, starting at confused, then concerned, then finally savagely happy. With his sword in his hands, he lines up a strike and stabs his sword straight into the face of the skeleton, shattering both of the jewels that make up its eyes.
Wraith Lord killed (assist): personal xp (620)
class xp (xxx)
Level up! You are now level 11. +1 unallocated stat point. Level up! You are now level 12. +1 unallocated stat point. Michael lights up as his own messages flash through his vision. I assume he''s achieved the same feat as I did, which reminds me that I have so much to look through in my status. Later though. I slide to the floor, curling up as the pain resistance wears off. I still have the regen and high energy, so while I could potentially keep moving, I''m going to be distracted by the pain. "Michael." Instantly, he''s by my side. I can see that he''s accumulated several small wounds from his earlier clash. "Are you ok? How''s your health?" Despite the pain, I manage to give him a somewhat reassuring smile. "I''m healing quickly. I''ll be fine in ten minutes. But we need to go sooner. I need to secure the entrance." He nods, but motions to sit with me instead of being useful. "Michael. I appreciate the sentiment, but help the others." He glances over to the few mercenaries still moving and the other mobile person helping them. In a calm moment, I take a proper look at the other person besides Michael able to stand up to a Wraith Lord. It''s a woman, but I can only tell be the curve of her face and the smoother skin. She looks to be in her mid to late thirties and obviously has made efforts to appear less noticeable. What I can see of her hair under the helmet is cut almost to the skin like most men''s. She carries herself with no obvious confidence or anxiety, nothing about her is given away. An inspiration to few despite having what the ideal mercenary needs. I respect that. I take a few more seconds to let myself recover. My wings stop grinding but feel strained as I fold them again. My most recent stab wound has partially healed and has stopped bleeding. I grit my teeth as I stand again, trying hard to not make any noise. Michael would only worry too much. Speak of the devil, he appears in front of me as soon as I''m standing. He''s practically vibrating with nervous energy. His motions are quick and jerky. He holds a sword out to me, one I recognise as my own. "I found your sword. Should you be up though? I can scout out the entrance myself if you want. This is the only corridor from that entrance that links it to the rest of the building. There''s uhhhhh I think two or three splits in the route between here and the entrance." I gratefully take the sword and nod as I sheathe it. "Ok. First of all, deep breaths. You''re no help if you''re like this." Making a face, he gulps and takes a few deep shaky breaths. With a moment of near silence, I shut my eyes and focus on the mental map I have of the route to the entrance. The path to the left splits and rejoins with the right just before the actual doors. I explain my plan to Michael, focusing on him and the female mercenary watching us from further down the hallway. "You and her go left up here. I''ll go right. When your path splits up, you split up. It''s not the safest way, but we can''t leave a route open. We don''t know what''s between the outside and here. "When we get to the point the paths rejoin, wait until we''re all there. Then we go to the entrance and I''ll see what we can do from there." A suitably calmed Michael and stoic female mercenary both stare at me with obvious questions in their minds. "Please leave your questions until the end of the operation. Now, you ready?" Michael smiles at the bit, but nods. The other mercenary nods too in her own way. A single emotionless downward jerk of her head. "Good." I redraw my sword, questioning why I put it away in the first place. I''m hurt, I''m tired, and my plan is flawed at best, but this is an unfortunately necessary chore. This will only make me stronger if I live through it. If. Chapter 13 - Im a Crap Hostage Walking slightly hunched over, I cautiously tread the bloodstained hallway. Before long, I notice that the piled up bodies are sunken and flattened. With equal parts wonder and horror, I can see that none of them have bones. Whatever forces allow the undead to raise more of their brethren, it proves chilling to say the least. But my solitary branch is silent. I reach the intersection where the quiet female is waiting, watching the short remaining stretch. With nothing to do until Michael catches up, I try to make small talk with the mercenary. I sit against a wall that doesn''t have deal people skin piled up against it. "So what''s your name? I''m Ventra." "Carst, Lieutenant." "You know of my position?" "Of course, Lieutenant. I had heard rumours of the Lancer General wanting to meet with the mysterious soul user. Those called to meet him are promoted, and since the first Lieutenant died last month, I made the connection. For what it''s worth, ma''am, I can see he made a good choice. I only know of two people aside from that Lancer himself who could stand up to a Wraith Lord." I smile in spite of the subtle brown-nosing. This woman is smart enough to figure out who I am, and I strong enough to hold off a monster I struggle to kill. I like her. "Don''t sell yourself short, Carst. Most would have, and did fall immediately against such a foe. You are impressive in your own right." Carst seems stunned by the compliment and her body language shifts from stoic to unsteady. But she readies herself again and clears her throat before finding her voice. "Thank you, ma''am." Michael turns his corner, looking slightly worse for wear. "Did either of you have any issues?" I reluctantly stand up from my sitting position. Both Carst and I shake our heads. Michael sighs tiredly. "Me neither. You think that was it, maybe?" I look disapprovingly at him. He''s understandably tired, but I expect him to have more discipline. He''s a mercenary for Senca''s sake. "There were thousands earlier today. I doubt the Wraith Lord even came in with many considering everyone we''ve passed has been used to summon another skeleton. This place is probably surrounded, so we have to scope out the situation. This is war, Michael. Man up." He looks hurt, but it was absolutely necessary to do that. This situation is too risky for me to have any slackers. At least Carst approves. Her slight smile is all the confirmation I need. I lead the march down the final stretch if corridor. I can see golden light at the end of the dimly lit hallway. The lights in this part are damaged in some way. The ceiling is cracked, which is probably causing the lights to not function properly. The heavy metal doors leading outside are open just a crack. I try pushing on them, but I fail to make them move. I try bracing my shoulder against the metal slab instead and push with my entire body, but that approach is no more effective, and certainly hurts more. Gingerly, I then to look back at my followers who I know each has a body stat multiple times higher than my own. "Can you guys help me with the door?" Without hesitation, and thankfully without any complaint, Michael walks forwards and opens the door with a single one-handed push. I can now fully appreciate the super-human powers that are accessible to me now. Michael would probably be stronger than the strongest men back on earth with a fraction of the muscle mass. I nod at him appreciatively and stare out of the base at the surrounding woodland. Or, what used to be woodland. The admittedly sparse forest is gone as far as I can see. Every tree has been hacked from its base and is gone. Only miles and miles of brutalized treestumps now surround the base. And covering what used to be the forest is more than a horde. More than an army. A very force of nature stands at rest around the base. A sea of white only broken up by tree stumps or the darker coloured and higher ranked undead. Tens of the undead thralls, hundreds of what must be zombies, and countless basic skeletons. Many have their basic bows drawn and aimed at us. Far in the distance, I can even see a few huge lumbering masses greyed and faded due to the distance. This was never an extermination on our side. It would even be laughable to call this a war. The undead were always going to slaughter us. For whatever reason, we underestimated their numbers or were missing some critical piece of prior Intel. Whatever it was, we never had a chance. I wait for death to come, certain that at any second, the hundreds of arrows will be loosed, and I''ll meet a swift end. But it doesn''t come. Looking out at the skeletons I can identify at this distance, they''re completely motionless. I can hear how fast my breathing has become. On either side of me are my allies. Michaels face it is frozen in silent fear. His breaths are shaking and unsteady. Carst, on the other hand, appears outwardly calm. In her eyes though, I can see something resembling sadness. But as the seconds tick by, she visibly becomes more confused. "Why aren''t they attacking." With the absence of any Wraith lords, I come to only one conclusion. "Nothing is ordering them to. Are they... waiting?" As confidently as I can, I walk towards the waiting sea of bones and take a closer look at the skeletons on the front line. "Wait, Ventra-" Michael objects, but I half turn and wave my free hand to shut him up. "Shhhhhhhh. I want to know what''s happening. If they''re not moving, we''re safe." I push my face right up to the white expressionless skull nearest to me. I can almost feel the tension in the air as we stare each other down. An intense pressure falls over me, and I stumble back a few steps, stooped over. Sounds of struggle behind me tell me that Michael and Carst are being affected by the increased gravity too. The pressure increases and I fall onto my knees, barely able to keep myself from slamming into the ground. With higher body stats, the others are probably doing better, but there''s no way this force isn''t affecting them. It reaches a point where I''m forced flat on the ground, and I can hear my significantly stronger allies falling too. For a few seconds, I''m unable to breathe and begin to panic that I would die from being crushed before the pressure lessens all of a sudden. I try to get back up, but something stops me from moving upwards at all. There''s no downwards force unless I try to act against it. An effective prison. I look around as much as I can with my very limited scope and can barely see the top of Michaels helmet behind me. Ahead of me is the skeleton army, still completely motionless. If only my hair hadn''t covered my face as I fell, I would be able to make out so much more of my surroundings. Even the perception I would gain from my helmet is suppressed. I open my mouth to try and criticize this trap that I assume is one defending the base, but am unable to say anything. My vocal cords feel frozen. Even breathing heavily produces no noise aside from the shifting air. What I can hear instead is a clattering of scraping bones that send a shiver down my spine. This is not the sound of a marching army, but of a parting sea of bones. I can just about make out a path that has been made directly ahead of me by the foot soldiers quietly shifting sideways. As soon as they''ve moved, the skeletons go back to being little more than spooky statues. The sound of soft footsteps in the remnants of the forest floor approach slowly. Eventually, I catch the corner of a flowing dark green robe before me. Although, it certainly seems like I''m lying before them. I know I have no advantages here. "Hmm. You are not who I expected." A male voice. Young, but older than Michael, most likely. Someone still in his twenties but who has far more confidence in themselves than they should. All it took was one sentence for that to be obvious. I try to spew obscenities at whoever is trapping me but only manage to flap my mouth open and closed aggressively. The green-robed individual laughs arrogantly. "Oh, having a little trouble speaking there? Let me help you with that." "-and I''ll shove it up your fucking ar-" I''m cut off almost as soon as I''m allowed to speak. More unpleasant chuckling drips down onto me. "Well you are certainly not the Lancer General, nor do I think you are his lovely wife. Your body seems... inferior to what I have heard. And only a single sword, you are certainly not her." From that alone, Michael or Carst might have pieced together the secret that Declan and Mary tried to hide. Though relationships within the mercenary rankings might fall quite low in the emergency rankings. For now, the issue is whoever is standing in front if me, because I''m certain they are controlling the skeletons.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. He crouches down closer to me, then kneels just above my head and softly pushes my hair back and tucks it into my helmet. I''m surprised at both the softness that''s being displayed and by the face of the asshole that''s somehow holding me down. He''s... beautiful. His skin may be paler than I would prefer, but he has a solid chin and cheekbones I could cut myself on. A slight shade of stubble, and dark eyes that match his coal-black hair that runs long and spills from his scalp in cascades. "Though you are something else. You killed the Wraith Lord, didn''t you? Your defiance, the very way your soul struggles against my hold. You may not lead the sheep, but you should." My mind flashes guiltily to Michael. I so quickly fell to the appearance of another when Michael and I are... kind of together. "Such a pretty thing too. You could become a queen, I''m certain. Demolish the system of lords and ladies that plagues the land, and sit there." While his words are sweet, they hide a venom. Hypnotising. But I''ve been there. Ruling isn''t for me. Leading is where it''s at. "But you don''t want it. You are a fighter... You were the one to disrupt my ambush this morning, weren''t you?" He smiles, and despite how it makes his appearance all the more dazzling, I can see danger behind it. "Tell me, young lady, what is the name of the one who might best whatever is thrown at her?" I try to speak again and am pleasantly surprised that I can make noises. I expected it to be a rhetorical question and he would already know the answer. "I''m no one. I have no name." "Interesting. Word of the wind is that you hail from the family of Cass. Though I''m not sure if you know this, such a family does not exist. A being of no name and incredible power, now that is more interesting than a liar." "Who are you?" "Ah. A good question, lady of no name. Much like you, I remain nameless, but that is by choice rather than by ignorance." "Wait! What do you mean? What do you know about me?" Excitement threads into my words from my very soul. This man speaks of me as if he knows my past. He spoke about my soul like he can see it. "Nothing. Nothing that matters, at least. Just what my... informants say. I can guess though from the way your soul flows that you don''t know of your own origins. But... it will not tell me anything else. Something so powerful, yet so... lacklustre." Shit. Useless. I take a slow breath. Of course, he doesn''t know about me. I''m from earth, and this world probably has no knowledge of it at all. "So what do you want?" "There''s the most important question. I want what anyone wants from mercenaries." "And? What is that?" "My dear, to not even know what one would want from you, yet you would accept anyway. How noble. But I merely want help." I open my mouth to reply again, but this asshole has prevented my ability to speak again. I don''t see any way that he could do it, but he can. Effortlessly. "Before you say that you would help me, I won''t allow such a lecture to begin. You see, I don''t want you, I just want what you have. The help I will take in the form of bodies and materials." Asshole. Misleading me just to take the piss. "Now, I''m sure you have questions, but the wind whispers to me. The waves of battle have stilled. Yet... I am not the victor. Hmm. No matter, that''s why back up plans exist. Get up." I''m lifted immediately like a marionette by its strings. My sword goes flying to my side, and I''m left suspended by my wrists, elbows and shoulders. "Now this is a surprise." He lifts the back of my trench coat slightly to expose my wings. "Wings of gold. A legendary achievement. You will be a perfect addition to my ranks. Maybe your soul will birth a new variant. The possibilities are tantalising. But for this to work, we shall have none of this." With slow motions, he unstraps my helmet from my head and breaks it with one hand. "The pesky failsafes built into you are the last thing I would want to have to kill you over." While he''s close, I try to kick him with both my feet in an attempt to break his focus. But before I can make contact, his hand instantly makes a grasping shape and my feet are stuck in place. "Naughty." With a smirk, he squeezes the invisible grasp and both my ankles are crushed beyond the point of healing. -51hp I scream silently at the sky as pain radiates from my legs. I thrash against my invisible restraints as hard as my weak body allows, trying to do something. Anything to stop the pain. "Oh, now, we don''t want this, do we?" Even through the pain, I can hear him spewing condescending shit from his perfect face. Through tears, I see him make another grasping motion, and my slowly swaying body is stilled. I can feel a slight pressure on my spine, and with a silent cry of anguish and pain, I shake my head. Pleading for him to stop. But he merely tilts his head and jerks his hand violently over. A crack fills my ear, but this one is deeper, much more important than any other. -106hp Paralysed (--:--) [!spine must be realigned before repair!] My perception of my body below my waist is gone immediately. For the second time today, my spine is broken, but it won''t heal so quickly this time. Mercifully, the pain from my shattered legs is gone. But it is a small mercy in the face of what has been done to me. Looking down, my legs hang limply with my feet swaying in the breeze, little more than skin holding them on. My beautiful wings hang just behind them, the tips trailing in the dirt. "Aww. Not so powerful without your legs, huh? Now, let''s go get your boss out here." I hang my head in defeat as I''m lead back into the white masses, leaving Michael and Carst behind. "You know, I never asked who those two followers of yours are. Not that it matters. They''re already dead." What!? I look up in shock and try to look behind me, but we''re already too far away, and there are skeletons filling the gap left behind us. "The gravity was too much for them. They were dead long before I even broke your legs." The mage orchestrating all this laughs softly. It sounds genuine, but that makes it all the scarier. Michael. I don''t cry for him or Carst. I liked them both, even for the very short time I knew them. Heck, I liked Michael enough that I would try to start something with him. He obviously fell for me. I''m tired of this life already. It started out so well, but in a few very short hours, everything changed. Speaking of which, and in a desperate grab to distract myself, I try to take scope of the surrounding area. It''s nearly night. The setting sun is making the bleached white bones of the skeleton appear orange and yellow. It''s a nice effect. It reminds me if a field of flowers interjected by darker spots where a thrall or zombie waits. Whatever this mage plans to use me for, I want none of it. He spoke of using me as a bargaining piece. But the mercenaries don''t need me like he thinks they do. They don''t even know me. Whatever he does when it''s revealed they won''t give in to him for me, I don''t want to be alive for it. But I''m stuck in a T-pose for the foreseeable future with no way to harm or even propel myself even if I got free. I give up.
Or not. Just as I''m giving up, my outstretched hand brushes against something it shouldn''t. Tree bark. The sensation is unmistakable, but as far as I can see, there are no tree stumps even close to the height of my hands. I look closer at the stumps that we pass when the shifting bodies reveal them. All are now beyond my reach, but I know I felt one when I didn''t see it. All the pieces I''ve noticed click together. The skeleton army far, far larger than it should be. The trees that have disappeared without a trace, allowing the army to be displayed better. The motionless way in which every single skeleton reacts. And why the near infinite army doesn''t just charge in. The too-perfect face of my captor. I''m certain, this is an illusion. A huge one, but an illusion nonetheless. I smile, becoming more certain by the second. This mage might be immensely powerful, but I''m willing to bet that the Wraith lords and handful of skeletons he sent in were all his remaining forces. He might be strong enough to push three mercenaries to the ground hard enough to be able to kill them, but what can he do against a hundred. I have a plan. It''s small, but while I can''t speak or move, it''s all I have. While my lower body is broken and my upper body is mostly suspended tightly, my fingers are free, and my palms are facing forwards.
I''m carried by the mage halfway around the mercenary base at a fairly large distance. I''m guessing he doesn''t want to risk being seen. As we reach the opposite end of the base from where we started, the illusionist starts to make orbs of bright blue grow from nothing in his hands. He throws them up into the air, and they hang around me. Illuminating the twilight, making the fake skeletons appear almost spectral. Before long, I''m illuminated like a beacon. It would be clear to anyone that I''m a hostage now. I can see that at the nearest entrance to the base, two huge barriers are illuminating the area and a lone hooded figure standing just outside the shut doors. The illusionist stands almost directly opposite the hooded figure, but slightly off to the side. All the blue lights that surround me followed him and he is lit up, while I am hung further back, hidden in shadows. "LANCER! YOU ARE THE FINAL OBSTACLE! SURRENDER AND I WILL LET YOU AND YOURS ESCAPE!" The figure drops his hood, and I''m not surprised that it''s Declan. It''s difficult to see from the distance and through the rapidly darkening landscape, but Declan looks pissed. I would be too. Everything that Declan has spent the best part if his life building has been torn apart by this one infuriating mage. His wife has been injured, and I suspect his friends are either dead or equally hurt. "YOU WON''T LET ANYONE LIVE, AND I KNOW THAT! BUT THIS ARMY IS FODDER TO ME. I NOTICE A DISTINCT LACK OF ANY MORE WRAITHS!" I hear an audible intake of frustration from the illusionist. I have to question why he didn''t even pretend to make any Wraith Lords, but its acting to his disadvantage. "I HAVE ENOUGH HERE TO KILL YOU, AND TO MAKE SURE YOU STAY DEAD!" it''s an empty threat. I know it, the illusionist knows it, and if I have anything to do with it, Declan''s going to know it too. "BUT YOU KNOW ME, DON''T YOU, LANCER! YOU KNOW THAT''SNOT MY STYLE!" "LET ME GUESS! YOU HAVE ANOTHER BOMB?!" The illusionist starts to laugh loudly enough that it echoes. "YOU MAY KNOW ME, LANCER, BUT THIS BOMB IS NOT WHAT YOU THINK IT IS!" I''m slowly brought forwards, the fake skeletons ahead of me moving out of the way until I''m far enough into the light that my battered body is fully illuminated. Declan''s face twists into a tortured one. I don''t know what this mage means by me being a bomb, but Declan seems to. there''s a sharp stabbing in my neck, and I turn my head slightly to see the mage sticking a multi-pointed node into the crook of my neck. there''s a glass orb on the end of it that fills with a golden light. then tendrils of darkness begin to infiltrate the swirling gold. the same image I can see taking place on my shoulder, I can feel it taking place deep within me. my energy feels impure. it feels wrong. angry, almost. "my lady, you may not know what this is, but you won''t like it. your monstrous soul will be the fuel to this bomb. the energy within you will destroy this wretched band of savages. and Iwill be far, far away by the time you go off." this is problematic. the skeleton army might be fake, but the thing making me into a bomb is very real. "VENTRA!" "speak to your leader, my little explosive." "uh..." I try to think desperately about what I can say to get Declan my message without letting the mage know. I''m certain that he isn''t actually here, and it''s only another illusion of his that I can see. I''m guessing it was just a real skeleton minion of his that actually attached the bomb to me. theres no way he would risk being even close to it. so there wouldn''t be any consequences to him if he were to blow me up. but there would be consequences to me. I don''t want the rest of the mercenaries to die. "SIR, IM SORRY I CAUSED YOU SO MUCH TROUBLE. THIS BOMB IS VERY REAL, SO I CANT DO ANYTHING BESIDES WAIT, BUT... THE ARMY BEHIND ME IS OUT OF MYHANDS." I emphasize "hands" at the same time as I unclasp my hand that is furthest from the illusionist. on my palm is a crudely carved eye. over the last five minutes of transit, I''ve been using my nails to tear my skin deep enough to draw blood and make the symbol of the illusion school on my hand. declan looks at my hands, and then out at the army surrounding him. there''s no indication of understanding on his face, but I can only trust that he gets it. "SIR. THERE''S SOMETHING I SHOULD HAVE TOLD YOU WHEN WE MET. IM... A REALLY CRAP HOSTAGE." he smiles at me, and I can hear the illusionist laughing softly too. they must both think its a joke, but in a life or death situation where I''m a key bargaining piece, I will always choose to die to remove the threat. and the only method I have left is my spells. I aim all my fingers towards my chest, trying to aim closer to my heart. I shut my eyes and ignore any further conversation. the energy that I felt moving when I charged the mind swords, I force into action again. I pull the energy through my arms, into my hands, and focus it in my fingertips. my hands tingle with the increasing concentration of unused energy, and my fingers outright burn. sharp. Sharp. SHARP! "SHARP!" multiple spells cast (8) -160mp the energy leaves my fingertips, and there''s a bright blue flash behind my shut eyes. I don''t feel anything, but a small chain of messages in my eyes tell me I''ve been successful. -197hp (critical damage sustained) [WARNING! high damage has been dealt to self.] -62hp -8hp [YOU HAVE DIED]
back in the all too familiar darkness, I can only hope that my sacrifice will solve part of the issue that plagued the mercenaries. it will likely be a long time before I find my way there again, but I hope the base will still be standing when I get back. Death Count: 1001 woohoo If I could raise a glass, I would. To many more deaths ahead. Chapter 14 - Im a Better Person Suddenly, I''m lying on something soft, which I quickly realise isn''t so soft. In fact, it''s... Sandy. For once, my mind is clear and my body feels well rested after respawning. I can only credit it to having a better body stat. I lift my head and brush off the sand I can feel sticking to my face before opening my eyes. Bright white sand glittering like diamonds blind me momentarily, so I shut my eyes and let my other senses come into focus. I can hear waves gently breaking, and the sound of some birds crying in the distance. I must be on a beach, specifically around one of the masses of water that Michael described to me. Michael. I''m disappointed that the relationship never went far. But since I''m probably on the other side of the world, there''s not much point worrying about what''s going on at the mercenary base. I have to worry about how to start my new life. Again. Still lying on the sand with my eyes shut, I roll onto my back, slightly squashing my wings, and cross my heart. I notice with some mild satisfaction the flat chest indicating I''m a man again.
You have 2 unallocated stat points:
Body (+) Mind (+) Soul (+)
I put both points to body again. I really need that stat to increase, and fast. I need a body stat that''s not too abnormal for someone of my age.
Name: Ventra Cass (The Cause)
Hp: 270/270 (6.14%) Species: Human (Immortal)
Mp: 1896/1896 (6.14%) Level: 12 (11%) (+)
Class: (none)
Body: 29 (+) Mind:158 Soul: 614
Perks: -Mana: ? [1] Big spells ? [2] Bigger spells ? [3] Soulful spells ? [3] Mana manipulation ? [4] Shapeless Magic ? [4] Hard Mind -Soul: ? [1] Moulded Soul ? [2] Hunter Soul ? [3] Neutral Soul ? [4] Soul of Magic ? [5] Strong Soul ? [5] Monstrous Soul ? [6] Hidden Soul ? [7] Powerful Soul ? [7] Surviving Soul ? [8] Alien Soul ? [9] Soul of the Fool ? [10] Wings
Skills: (none)
Spells: ? Hard ?Fast
Thankfully, all my stats are carried over to my new body, which I should have figured out from my wings still existing. I notice there''s a plus next to my level. That''s something neither Michael or Declan explained to me. Before I try and figure it out, I''ll try and ask someone else. I''m not in any danger right now, so I guess it can wait. More importantly, I can upgrade my body. I select the plus next to my still proportionally low stat and am thoroughly whelmed by the two tiers I have.
10 baseBody reached. Rank 1 body perks unlocked.
Available perks: (1) Resilient Body (body stat influences resistances to a greater effect)
25 base Body reached. Rank 2 body perks unlocked.
Available pers: (2) Near Strength (increase strength effect on damage for melee weapons) Far Strength (increase strength effect on damage for ranged weapons)
I select all the available perks, excited to see how I might be able to use the increased strength. Slowly, I open my eyes and let them adjust to the bright sun. The entire world is bright to me. The bright blue water and near-white sand are throwing around enough light to blind. Once I can see clearly through squinted eyes, I take stock of my new body. I already knew that my body was male, but I''m pleasantly surprised to see that I''m black. If I''m in an environment dominated by heat, a body that''s naturally resistant to sunburns is a big advantage. A voice in the back of my mind screams fears of being treated worse due to my skin colour. But from what I saw in the mercenary group, the only discrimination was between species, and even then it was suppressed.Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. I''m fairly well built for a newly spawns body. Far stronger than I was in my previous life as Ventra, but unfortunately I doubt I''ll be as attractive. The body of water ahead of me is constantly moving, but I crawl closer to the shore and using my hands, dig a small pit and channel into the surprisingly coarse sand. I let the pit fill with water, and wait for the rolling sand to settle, and for the water to still. In my makeshift mirror, I can see a moderately handsome man staring back at me. I have a square jaw, but aside from that, no really discerning figures. As usual, my teeth are perfect, and as I would expect from someone of my colour, my eyes are dark. Surprisingly though, I''m completely bald. I run my hand over my scalp damp with sweat and smile slightly. This is rare. I never pull off the bald look. Overall, I''m happy with my new body. I appear to be of above average build, and of very average looks. I stand up to try and get a better view of my surroundings when I figure out what my inevitable shortcoming is. I''m short. By my best guess, I''m a few inches over five foot. I sigh, slightly disappointed. I held so much potential to easily intimidate, but it''s gone now. At least with my (slightly) better viewpoint, I can get a better idea of where to go from here. I still can''t see any hint of land on the far side of the water, but I can see how the Sandy beach extends in both directions until it disappears over the horizon. Probably one of the oceans or seas Michael told me about. I still have no idea of the scale of the world. It could be many times larger or smaller than earth, or even the exact same size. Looking away from the shore, I can see sand dunes rising high above me. Annoyingly high. I sigh, not looking forward to the difficult climb I have ahead of me, but get on with it. I''m already thirsty from the hot weather, and even with the power I know I hold, Michael warned me that the world outside of civilisation is a dangerous one. Steeling myself for the small yet daunting challenge ahead of me, I begin the incline.
Ten minutes and several minor failures later, I''m at the top of the dune. Doing a full 360-degree rotation, I''m disappointed with the results. In the past, I''ve almost always woken up at least near some civilisation. Usually, I wake up slap bang in the centre of a town, or encampment, and once a secured fort. It was impossible to answer how I got in there, so without any answers, that life ended before it had really begun. At least I''m not under any extreme threat here. Yet. Away from the sea, there''s a large woodland expanse that surrounds the beach. The trees that make up the canopy are far taller and densely packed than those near the mercenary base. The leaves are much larger and darker, seeming to become almost black at the edges. The overall effect of this has resulted in what I would call haunted woods. I wouldn''t be surprised to fund all manner of nightmares under that dark cover. Unfortunately, there doesn''t appear to any sort of sentient evidence anywhere around the sea. I would have expected at least one fishing village, but as far as I can see, there''s nothing. Despite the seemingly bleak choices, I''m in a good mood. I got too weighed down with responsibility too quickly as Ventra. I mean, I was promoted to a high level of responsibility and was planned to be used as some kind of trump card after only being there for a day. Declan must have been really desperate for the help I might have been able to provide. Shrugging, I look around at my feet, which are unfortunately bare, and pick up a broken piece of shell. Its interior side is pearled nicely, while the piece that would have been the exterior of the shell is rough and coloured orange. Pearled for the sea, orange for the forest. I flick the piece up into the air with my eyes shut, and with centuries of practice at my back, catch it in my open palm. The texture alone tells me what it is already. Looking at my randomly determined fate, I''m still excited to see the bright orange exterior of the shell glaring at me. The beach might have been safer, but it would have probably been boring. I want to do something stupid. With an impressively high jump, I begin my descent of the far side of the sand dune. I slide the rest of the way, letting the breeze cool me slightly. With the hot air and the shade of the forest, I''m looking forward to the potential comfort. There are a couple hundred meters between where the sand ends and where the forest starts. ln this grassy stretch, I can see all manner of basic materials. Deadfall is scattered around, and fairly large rounded stones can be seen. Time to go... primitive. I''m well versed on primitive survival. When you spend some of your earliest lives pushing technology through the iron age and then some of your latest digging it up again, you really grow aware of the simplicity of it. I take a minute to gather an armful of appropriately sized branches and a few large stones. With slightly rusty expertise, I use my enhanced body to break them over each other. After the first few stones yield no useful results, I turn to some of my... stronger means. I point at my target stone, and violently think: fast! Repeatedly. As Declan said, spellcasting is easier to do when vocalising the command. When I killed myself using the spell, I had tried to mentally activate it for fear of being stopped by the illusionist, but being able to cast the spell eight times at once seemed to have overridden any defences he might have put on me. "Fast!" Still, nothing happens. I try to think back to the exact motions I went through before I activated the spell. I imagined the energy that responded with the mind swords moving within me. Closing my eyes, I try and replicate the feeling. The blue energy of the mind leaving my brain and flowing through my chest, to my arm then my hand. Finally, I let the energy pour into my outstretched finger and push it into the tip of the finger. I open my eyes, and while I think I can feel the tingle I felt before in my finger, there''s no visual evidence at all. Still, I point at the stone. "Fast!" Spell cast -20mp There''s a sudden blue flash and for an instant, I can see a cone of blue light the size of a large bullet fly towards the stone. The stone itself explodes, throwing dust and sharp pieces everywhere. I recoil, protecting my eyes at the expense of a few small scratches in my arm. "Wow." The single spell displayed such a great power that there was no wonder I could kill myself so easily. With such power at my literal fingertips, I''m much more confident about venturing into the forest. Just in case, I use the first sharp piece of stone I can find to cut long strips of soft bark off a young tree on the forest border. Without a fire, I''ll have to settle for the raw fibres, so I tie the sticks into a bundle and sling it over my shoulder. Just in case I can''t find enough burnable wood to cook something. That''s my focus for now. Finding a source of food and water. Without any knowledge of this world''s flora and fauna, I can''t resort to testing out plants. My body is still far too weak by this world''s standards for that. Then again, learn by doing. I decide that if it really comes to it, I''ll eat a plant before I die. It''ll either sustain me or I would have died anyway. With my hand in the shape of a gun, mana charged in my outstretched fingertip, I venture forth. Into the dark. Chapter 15 - Im nothing without my past Several hours of walking later and I''ve decided wholeheartedly that I don''t like this forest anymore. The air got humid to the point that the thin shirt I spawned with is wrapped around my head to slow sweat getting in my eyes. For a while, I try to use my wings to fan myself, but my control is severely lacking and I hit more bushes than I can count before I give up. In terms of sustenance, there''s plenty of water dripping from some large waxy leaves, but nothing in terms of food. Most of the plants that I come across have the same dark leaves that the canopy trees boast, and something about them makes me cautious about eating ant of the slightly green parts, or the ominously black roots and tubers they hide. This forest is creepy in a major way. The worst part is that there''s no sign of animals. I can''t hear a thing aside from damp leaves and dripping water, I can''t see a single hint of animal life either. No tracks, dropping, nothing. I''m starving at this point, but I know from experience I can feel for another day and a half if the temperature stays the same and I can keep drinking from the wide leaves. That''s my one saving grace. The forest that is more of a jungle is surprisingly cool, yet somehow more humid than I thought was physically possible. It''s like I''m constantly taking a cool shower. It was pleasant at first, but I''ve realised all top soon that being dry in here is no more than a dream. Barely an hour in and the wood I was carrying was slimy. Another hour later and the dead wood was falling to pieces. I had to abandon it all, annoyed at the wasted time and energy. My situation has quickly become dire. From my position up on the dune I could see that the forest extended to the horizon. By earth standards, that would be roughly 3 miles. With the height of the dunes and the trees, I would bump it up to maybe 4 or 5. Regardless, I must have passed that point after the first hour. By now, I might have reached the 20-mile mark with no notable difference in my surroundings. My stomach grumbles in agreement with my current mood, and I sigh in disappointment. I had higher hopes than this. *Thwack* Suddenly I can hear an impact far off to my right. I wait, and it quickly comes again. It''s quiet, but I''m certain it''s there. I race towards the sound, but skid to a stop on the damp vegetation a few seconds later. Why am I sprinting into the unknown? What if it''s hostile? Annoyed at the stupid mistake I would have been about to make, I instead duck low, hiding in the dark leaves at knee height. I keep a slow pace, making my movements as quiet as possible so I can sneak up on whatever the source of the sound is. I keep my wings folded tightly and tucked behind my back. I don''t want them getting in the way. The closer I get, the more obvious the sound is. Somewhere ahead of me, someone is using an axe to chop down a tree. Why anyone would want to use the wood of these trees that would never burn and would make a terrible material, I don''t know. Maybe they''re just trying to clear an area? I catch the glint of sharp metal for an instant and duck lower. I crawl around the abnormally large tree being cut until I can just about make out who is holding the axe. Somewhat surprisingly, the first thing I see of the wielder is that they have a snakehead. And I don''t mean they have scales and fangs, a meter of snake body extends from a humanoid set of shoulders and ends with a snakes head twice as large as any I''ve seen on earth. The entire torso of the snake-man is scaled, and I''m fascinated by the way the large muscles roll under the shiny scales. From the build, I assume the creature is male. As I shift my view of him, the crude cloth covering his groin only supports that. So I''m placed at crossroads, unsure of how to proceed. I could attempt to reveal myself to the creature. On the chance that it speaks the same language as me, this could be my salvation: the diplomatic choice. I could pass by him, and attempt to locate his home by tracking the route he took. When I get to it, re-assess my choices: the stealth choice. Or, and something in me roars for this desire, I could kill him. Take his axe, track his route to his home and either eliminate anyone else or use my powers as a threat to control with. I take a deep breath and step out of the brush with my hands up. The diplomatic approach is the only realistic choice. The snake-man flinches at my arrival and turns to glare at me. Though that might just be due to this particular snake''s eyes always appearing to glare. I can''t imagine them being overly expressive. The snake-man lowers his axe and takes a few seconds to taste the air. His tongue is far longer than a regular snake''s and whips furiously in my direction. "I mean no harm. But I could use some help." He tilts his head slightly and seems to glare only harder. "Do you understand me?" I take a step towards and he takes a step away from me, raising his crude stone axe in defence. I retreat quickly, unwilling to make myself a threat. "Sorry. I''ll take that as a no." I''ve been in this situation before. I need help from a person or people who don''t understand me. I only hope there are universal signs of request here too. I slowly lower my hands and rub my stomach while miming eating from my other hand. The snake bobs his head up and down, executing what I hope is his species'' version of a nod. He points at the tree he''s still halfway through felling and then pushes his flat hand towards me, telling me to wait. I step back and sit on the ground, taking some time to relax and rest. The snake man seems wary of me as I can see his eyes flick towards me occasionally. But I pay him little attention. Now that my immediate concerns are alleviated slightly, I can focus more of my attention on my magic. I got the mana manipulation perk in my last body, and I think my ability to cast more than one spell at once is due to that. Declan never mentioned multi-casting but he didn''t know I selected the perk. And since I can manipulate my mana to be cast from multiple places at once, I see no reason why I can''t change the spell itself. Unfortunately, I think casting potentially explosive spells near this native will only incur hostility, I''ll have to keep all the mana internal. So I close my eyes and focus my attention to my centre, feeling for the energy that I fuel my spells with. My image of the energy is refined now. The energy flowing from my core is still warm, but it''s taken on a blue glow. The energy, my mana, flows like water around my torso. I can move it like water, too. I can''t hold parts of it separate, but I can lead it, letting it flow from the source to where I want it to go. I let my control over the mana go, and it quickly retreats back to the source. A slight splinter of pain remains where the tendrils once flowed. It was only a small amount that I used, prompting me to not leave too much mana uncontrolled within me. I may not have taken any damage from the small amount I used, but that could change all too quickly. Excited at the potential the energy holds, I draw out another tendril, a thicker one, and let the energy pool in my hand. From here, I know I can split the stream of energy to each of my fingers, but instead, I let the energy pool there and push it through the palm of my hand. I open my eyes, and I can make out a rough circle of energy under the skin of my palm. If I were to speak the trigger for the spell, I wonder how it would differ from when I cast it from my fingertips. But I daren''t spook my scaled friend, so I lead the mana in a loop back to the source. This way, there''s no pain from the mana running rampant. The glow in my hands slowly dims too, as the energy is released. I look up to the snake, but he is still reverently hacking at the first tree, so I guess I have more time to practice. I spend another half hour practising drawing mana from my core to various extremities. It''s harder to draw mana through my legs, which I assume is due to the distance. But I have no need to cast pierce from my feet... yet. All through this, there''s been the rhythmic thumping of the snake using his axe on the huge tree he seems determined to cut down. I did my best to ignore it at first, so I only notice the noise again when it stops. My eyes snap open, and I look to the native lumberjack. His head is darting in all directions, and his tongue going wild. With an incredible effort, he grabs the trunk of the huge tree that he''s been hacking at and pulls hard enough for the remaining wood to groan in protest. Instantly, I recognise the fear in his eyes. He heard or rather tasted, something coming towards us. I hear what sounds like wind rushing through leaves at the edge of my senses. The snake must have heard it too, as he redoubles his efforts to fell the tree. Holding my hands flat like blades, I aim all ten of my digits at the base of the tree and pull mana into all of them at once. "Fast!" Multiple spells cast (10) -200mp I feel a large drain on my self as a decent portion of my mana disappears instantly. Ten points of blue light in two rough rows thudded in the base of the tree, causing two deep and rough gouges to appear. I hear a deeper snap in the tree, and it tilts slightly. But it''s not enough. "Fast! Fast! Fast!" Three more times I do the same thing, tearing a huge chunk from the tree, the same information appearing each time. After the second volley, the exposed deeper wood is pitch black and bleeds a red sap. I wonder if this is why the snake wants this tree in particular. The tree lets out a final few snaps and falls surprisingly short distance. It slams into the ground, almost uprooting several of the trees around it. It was impossible for me to see while it was standing, but the tree with a base several times larger than every other one is also several times shorter. From severed end to thin end, I would place it at four meters tall. The snake lets out a pleased gasp and defying my expectations, hefts the full weight onto his shoulder. I''m left open-mouthed for a second as what I''m seeing defies even the altered views I''ve rebuilt since coming to this world. He looks back at me, using half of his neck to hold the tree on his shoulder. One insistent hiss is all it takes to urge me on. He has already started sprinting away, his axe retrieved and tucked into the back of his waist cloth. Despite the unreal mass he is holding, he is far faster than me, and before long, I have to rely on the wake of trampled greenery he leaves behind rather than actually following him.The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. The sound of wind through leaves has increased significantly and I can barely hear my own footsteps or laboured breath. I look behind me for an instant, but can''t see anything through the dense trees. I can hear things though. An underlying rumble through the ground and the faint snapping of branches and twigs. Whatever is following us, there''s a lot of them. I can see flashes of light ahead, a break in the trees. I push myself harder, sure that salvation lies where the darkness ends. Suddenly the trees are gone, and so is the ground. I''m just about to run off the edge of a huge crack in the ground when my arm is grabbed harshly and the snake-man swings me back up to the ground. He hisses at me angrily and quickly puts the huge tree on his shoulder, running off along a well-trodden path that runs parallel to the crack in the ground. I glance sideways into the forest as I run, and slithers of red and green lights flicker back at me. They weave around the trees, following my progress with frightening agility. I''m tempted to throw some spells their way, but as fast as the bolt of mana is, I''m sure I won''t be able to aim well as I run. All I can do is trust my scaled guide. Speaking of, he''s stopped at a point where the gap is smaller. It''s still a fair few meters across, but far closer than anywhere else. He takes a short run-up, and leaps the gap, landing with plenty of distance to spare. All the while he still has the tree on his shoulder, an image that is almost comical in the light. I reach the point where he jumped and can decidedly say that it''s not going to happen. I look up at his expectant face, but I can only shake my head in reply. My body may be stronger than it was before, but not that much stronger. With a victorious screech, beasts clear the trees and in an instant, they''ve circled me. First tens, then hundreds, then almost a thousand scrawny, yet feral apes crawl from the trees, staring at me. I try to calm my shaky breathing, knowing I have no chance of surviving a fight with them. There''s no leader I can kill to demoralize them, and they have more numbers than I have spells. They creep towards me slowly, making sure I have no chance to get away from them. I have plenty of space between me and the gap, but I''m essentially stuck between a rock and a hard place. Except the rock is a pack of ravenous murder monkeys, and the hard place is a huge drop that is becoming more and more desirable by the second. If I were to make the jump, my chance is rapidly closing. The approach of the beasts is making me slowly retreat towards the edge, and if I want to run and jump, I''ll have to do it sooner rather than later. Another insistent hiss comes from behind me, barely audible over the thumping of my heart in my ears. "FUCKING FINE! FAST!" Multiple spells cast (10) -200mp I flare out my hands and ten bolts of mana shoot out of my fingers like a starburst, hitting ten random targets. I''m sure I hit some of them, but without any messages, I know none of them died. The monkeys recoil at the danger I seem to present an I take the moment of hesitation to turn tail and run. I push myself as hard as I can, pulling my wings free from my trousers and spreading them slightly, giving a small experimental flap to try and give some lift. I can hear the monkeys charge at me screeching and hollering, furious that their prey is attempting to escape again. But if I''m going to die, I''ll do it by my hand. And right now, I''d rather try and fail than let myself be torn apart. So I jump. I focus all my strength on my wings, desperate to even get the slightest bit of lift from them. *SNAP* "Ugh!" -29hp My left wing snaps near the joint, proving yet again they aren''t strong enough for any sort of flight. The weak limbs can''t even be used to glide. Despite my heroic leap and less heroic flying, I can see the far large rising above my outstretched hands, too far away. Well, I gave it a go at least. I shut my eyes and accept the painless way I''m about to die when I feel a hard grip on my wrist. I''m pulled to a jagged stop that strains all the muscles in my arm. -8hp In shock, I open my eyes to a clawed and scaled hand gripping mine tight enough for the claws to dig into my skin. I look up to the snake-man hanging from the ledge by one hand, his other holding my own. He saved me for some reason. He also appears to be strained. His eyes are closed, and an obvious frown forms on his reptilian face. I quickly climb up his shoulders and then to the stone ledge, pulling myself up without any more injury. The snake pulls himself up too, looking frustrated but none the worse for wear. He silently readjusts his waist cloth, picks up the tree again with a hissing grunt, and motions for me to follow. We take off again at a walking pace. The whole running and spellcasting ordeal has left me out of breath and tired in a way I''ve never been before. As we walk back into the dense forest onto a rough path, I cross my heart and open my status. Name: - (The Cause) Species: Human (immortal) Level: 12 (11%) (+) Health: 234/270 (6.14%) Mana: 912/1896 (6.14%) Class: (none) Body: 27 (+) Mind: 158 Soul: 614 Perks: -Mana: ? [1] Big spells ? [2] Bigger spells ? [3] Soulful spells ? [3] Mana manipulation ? [4] Shapeless Magic ? [4] Hard Mind -Soul: ? [1] Moulded Soul ? [2] Hunter Soul ? [3] Neutral Soul ? [4] Soul of Magic ? [5] Strong Soul ? [5] Monstrous Soul ? [6] Hidden Soul ? [7] Powerful Soul ? [7] Surviving Soul ? [8] Alien Soul ? [9] Soul of the Fool ? [10] Wings Skills: none Spells: ? Hard ? Fast I managed to use up a solid thousand mana in the last few minutes, an act which I''m sure is what''s exhausted me so much. I''m not sure how mana really affects me, or what it even is, but I imagine what I did would be the same as using half of my stamina in an equally demanding situation. I would be left feeling burnt out. So to give myself a chance to relax and regenerate my mana, I tune out of reality, letting myself only follow the track ahead of me and fall into my memories.
In my mind, I''m in Europe, Northern France. I can''t remember what year it is, but the village I live in is soon to be attacked by raiders. Vikings possibly, but we have no way of knowing. We have almost no chance of surviving or even fighting back. If we had known even a day beforehand, we could have sent word to Lord Felt¨¦re who would have sent a division of soldiers to attempt to cripple the raiding party. They are a plague in our lands and our king Louie will do nothing. Last we heard, his family was killed, so he is busy grieving. I can understand his grief, but he is a king. He should do better. He should be better. They will be upon us within the hour, and the small collection of rusty weapons and mouldy armour will do little to even slow them. Yet the seven strongest men will still fight. They know they will die, but they are the hope of their family. They are the hope of the entire village. My husband, one of them, leads the rest. He knows little of commanding and even less of murdering, but he fights for me. I love him, but I have been here for too long. He doesn''t know what I am, and there is only so long I can keep lying to him about why I look the same way as I did almost eleven years ago. As tragic as it may sound, this is the perfect opportunity I need to disappear. I step outside of my cottage, immediately my mood worsens as thunder roars over the shore. Rain will follow, but that is of little concern to the raiders. I nod grimly to another of the women who must watch their husband die at the hand of the more skilled. She has the same expectations as me. She knows she won''t see her husband again. If only we had been more successful in recent years, we could afford to send the women and their children away in this event. They could run, hide further inland, but they would have nothing to come back to. The northern invaders have a reputation. They arrive, they kill, they pillage, they kidnap. Most of those here would rather live as a servant to them than die a slow starving death in the shell of a village. A sad way to leave the place they grew up, sure, but I wouldn''t be one of them. I have far too much experience to go down so easily. Behind my house, away from prying eyes, I dig up a bundle coated in waxed sheepskin. Bringing the bundle back inside, I unravel it to reveal a small armoury that I''ve built up and maintained whenever possible. A fishing hook that I''ve recommissioned into a sturdy javelin. Several knives that I can conceal on my body at once, and a collection of sharp throwing instruments. Knives, needles, and a four-pointed star-shaped piece of metal. None of these are made well, but I don''t plan on using them to kill anyway. At best they are a painful distraction. All that remains of my armoury is a set of light leather armour that I stole when I first woke up in this body. I have since modified it to fit me better, the vambraces have been covered in enough metal to deflect a well-angled sword, and it has all been dyed and coated black. It pales in comparison to some of my better-funded sets of assassin wear, but it will serve its purpose. I hastily get dressed, shivering in the cold evening air. As a final measure, I use my sharpest knife to cut off as much of my hair as I can. The last thing I need is a distraction like that. I must wait until darkness to strike. I am good, but not good enough to fight off a raiding ship of invaders head-on. I am too anxious to sit and wait, so I busy myself with checking the functionality of each of my pieces, making sure the javelin will fly straight, and all my knives will stay secured on my person. Even that can''t stop my hands from shaking, so I start pacing, fast. Sounds of shouting reach me. Sounds of fighting. Dying. They will be upon us within minutes. I stow away all of my smaller weapons on my body again and leave my javelin on the floor atop my discarded clothes. I climb up onto the old wooden table that stands in front of the now extinguished and cold hearth, and jump up, grabbing onto the thick rafters. With some difficulty, as my muscles are not sufficiently developed, I lift myself up until I can ease myself on top of the central one. I shuffle along it until I am perched just above the entrance to my house. Without the fire, it is dark, and I know I am perfectly hidden with my black leathers. Screams erupt from the nearby houses. With a heavy heart, I must accept my husband failed. In all likelihood, he''s dead. Mere moments later and the door beneath me is kicked open. To my annoyance, two huge men armoured in thick leathers and furs rush in. They are both bear headed to my delight and take their time searching the place for treasures. Of course, treasures in villages such as this one are few and far between. The only real items of value are the silver coins I left by my bed. Nevertheless, one of the invaders takes their time searching. Giving me enough time to shuffle slowly closer to the other, who is examining my weapon and discarded clothes. He asks a question to the other in the Norse tongue. I fail to catch all of the words, my time in Scandinavia recently being brief, but I manage to piece together the sentence. "Why is this one empty? A woman lived here, did she run? And why the spear? The other grunts in response and the first stands up, shrugging away any questions. It would normally have made no difference to them if someone had run away. They didn''t rely on kidnapping women for all that much, and even if someone were to go for help, they would be long gone by the time it arrived. But since I''m still here, and with both of my potential victims distracted, I can do something a little better than just call for help. I make sure that I''m just above the nearest man, and silently take two of my longer knives from their leather sheaths. I take a slow breath and let myself fall off the rafter. Hisssss! My recollection pauses while I''m still falling. Since when was there a hissing in old France? The hissing returns, more insistent this time. Oh yeah, reality... And I was just getting to the good part too.
Annoyed that my recollection of my most satisfying chain-killing has been interrupted, I scowl slightly as I focus on where the snake has lead me. The area hasn''t changed all that much. The tree density is a little thinner, so there''s slightly more light around, but it''s otherwise the same dark and damp jungle. But there''s a new smell in the air; burnt wood, and the slight smell of... cooked meat. food! My stomach cramps again at the mere thought of a leg of hot meat. I would happily settle for a cooked monkey, especially if I got to kill it first. The snake looks at me cautiously and holds his hand out, fingers splayed. Then he points at the ground and taps his nose three times. I''m not sure if that means to just wait, or if he''s indicating to wait for some period of time, but I get the message. I nod and sit with my back against a nearby tree. He sighs in relief, looking the most human-like I''ve seen him yet. He nods back at me and continues along the trail, disappearing quickly as it winds through the trees. And before I know it, I''m alone again, the silence of the forest deafening. "Nothing to do, so make something to do." I''m curious about the entire situation with the snake, but I''m starting to trust him after he saved me. I don''t want to betray him by charging in on his village with no warning. So I want to fill in my wait some other way. The mood has been ruined, so I don''t want to finish the particular memory I was reliving. I adjust my position against the tree, shifting my freshly healed wings so I can lean against the hard surface more comfortably. I could try to train my wings to flap naturally because my only attempts to flap them are akin to someone trying to fly using their arms. The stretch of path that I''m waiting at is fairly straight, so I''ll consider it my runway for now. I stand up and stretch my wings out, stumbling back a few steps as my centre of mass shifts too far. The limbs are surprisingly flexible, being able to bend in a wide arc both forwards and backwards. Using a reasonable effort, I push them forwards, blowing a gust into the bushes in front of me and pushing me back into another tree. I brace myself properly against the ground and push again, making a stronger gust. I can feel the strain on the weak muscles so I tone down the strength I''m applying and keep flapping my wings forwards. When the muscles are noticeably aching, I adjust the angle and start to push air towards my feet, forcing me upwards temporarily. Even at the upper reaches of my starved efforts, I can do little more than temporarily make myself lighter. Despite my lingering amazement at the fact I have wings, I''m increasingly frustrated over how useless they are to me right now. Little more than a burden. Anger circles my mind, an emotion born of my ignorance and helplessness. I can''t improve if I don''t learn, and I can''t learn unless I keep myself alive. And living is much harder to do here than it ever was on earth. I turn and raise my fist to punch the air, reluctant to hurt myself against a tree, and I feel mana furiously surging towards my fist. I pause, feeling inside myself for the movement of the mana. The mysterious substance has pooled around the front of my still-clenched fist. The mana only halted by the lack of an intention. I have to catch and control it before the mana goes rogue and tears my hand apart on the inside. That''s something I''ll have to keep check of. I can''t let my mana go free inside me led by my rampant emotions. You''d think that I''d be the epitome of calm and calculating considering how long I''ve lived, but I''m scared for the first time in a long time. I''m not used to this world, and it scares me. All my experiences are worth less and less the more I stay, and I am nothing without my past. Chapter 16 - Im Sorry The snake returns just as I''m considering trying to use my wings to do push-ups. His return brings my thoughts to the village so close, and the food it might contain. My stomach cramps badly, sending reverberations through my exhausted body. He gestures for me to follow him, and puts a clawed finger to his lips, an action I assume to convey silence. I nod and tap my own closed lips, hoping that I''m agreeing to what he''s asking. Seemingly satisfied, he turns away and quickly paces towards the source of the smells and sounds that I''m craving so much. We wind through the trees a surprising distance. With no real wind through the forest, there must be no reason for smells to disperse as quickly as usual. Slowly, I can begin to discern sounds from each other. The general chatter of a community, albeit a far more whispery one. Occasionally a dull impact, most likely hammering, chopping, or some other basic tribalistic process. I''m lead out into a large clearing, looking over another of the huge cracks in the ground. There are several dozen small round huts made of light brown wood, all with a V-shaped piece of black wood over the entrances. The only deviation from this design is a taller, likely two-story hut, made of dozens of thin black wood poles woven and braided into a huge and surprisingly intricate design. In such a tribalistic society, I can identify it as the chief''s hut. I''m immediately curious to even see who or what is keeping a group alive in this forest, but from experience, I''d probably be attacked if I wasn''t invited. But to my surprise, it seems to be exactly where we''re headed. The other snake people react pretty much as expected as we approach. Most shoot a lifelong glare my way, probably suspicious yet scared. Some openly stare, following my movements with widened eyes. Mostly, it''s the smaller ones that I assume are children. It gives me an opportunity to sate some of my own curiosity, to take a closer look at the people that live here. There is a slight difference in the genders here. Obviously male and female counterparts. The females have sleeker bodies, more narrow shoulders and less defined muscles. Like reptiles, they have no noticeable breasts, which admittedly looks odd on their humanoid torsos. Aside from that though, most of the villagers look identical to my untrained eye. If I were to spend time here, I''m sure I would find enough differences to distinguish the individual, but my icy reception makes me feel less than welcome. My guide pushes open the leathery fabric covering the entrance to the chieftain''s hut. I can only see darkness inside, the wood tight enough to block out the light. Gently, he pushes me inside, giving me a slight but reassuring nod. Then he lets the flap fall behind me and I''m left in hot darkness. Immediately, I''m distrustful. I could have been handed a bowl or a leg of something and been happy. This only feels like a trap to nullify my senses in a place where reptilian eyes would thrive. I pull mana into both my palms, letting it pool there so I can fire off spells faster if or when I''m attacked. (Disperse that mana, boy.) A voice so old and assertive appears in my mind that I immediately lose focus on the mana, and drop the unrefined hold I have on it. -28hp "Ah!" I shake my hands as it feels like fire is shooting through my bones all the way from my palms to my shoulders. (Heh, let that be a lesson to you, boy. Don''t start something you''re not sure you can finish.) While I''m not happy about being lectured about common sense by an entity I''m sure is a fraction of my own age, for it to be able to speak directly into my mind shows it must have a high mind stat, and could probably magic me off the face of the planet. As if to show off the point, a single flame the size of my fist flares into life inches from my face. The heat is immediately uncomfortable and the purity of the light it gives off makes tears stream from my eyes that have only just adjusted to the dark. Slowly, I can see more of the hut''s interior. A basic staircase winds from my left up to a second floor made completely from the black wood. Several items are scattered around, some tools I recognise, some I don''t. But sitting in the centre of the hut cross-legged is an old looking snake-man, wrinkles disrupting the smooth scales of his long neck and head. Unlike the rest of the villagers, he is fully clothed in thin furs resembling a patchwork cloak. The fire moves away from my face and settles higher up in the room, effectively illuminating it better than an electric bulb. (Please, take a seat. I have a few questions to ask you.) Hesitantly, I sit opposite him. The heat of the dark room and the fire combined with my own nervousness regarding the chief is making me sweat like crazy. I can''t get comfortable at all. (First, names. I am Syzslic, chief of this village, and ex-magus of the forest kings court.) That explains a little, but also raises far more questions. "I am..." (Boy, please speak your mind. I cannot keep up with the languages of man.) Is this better?This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. (Your voice is fragmented, your mind in shambles, but I hear your voice.) My name is Reuben. (And what brings you to the deep woods, Reuben?) I''m about to think of a good reason that might explain my presence here, but I''m interrupted by a particularly loud round of rumbling from my empty stomach. (Hehehe, I can see you''re not native to this area. Worry not. My grandson, Alys will return shortly with food.) The one who found me is your grandson? (He is, and he told me exactly what has happened to you both. It seems he and you owe each other somewhat.) Yes, he saved my life. I was too weak to make the jump across the chasm. (So your wings are just for show?) I look at my wings, half folded awkwardly behind me while I''m sitting. They are... weak. I''m weak. My body isn''t strong enough to support itself properly. (Yet you use shapeless magic at such a rate that shows your impressive mind. Not to mention your wings must have been borne of power.) It''s... complicated. I can''t explain why my strength is the way it is. The chief tilts his head in confusion, he seems more curious than ever, but his train of thought is thankfully interrupted by the door flap being thrown open and who I assume is Alys stepping in with a large tray carrying two bowls and two plates. He silently places the tray between us then places his mouth her the head of the chief and whispers briefly before the chief nods and Alys lets himself out again. (Wonderful. Please, help yourself.) He gestures to the tray and I take only a second to examine what it holds, too hungry to take any longer. The bowl is full of a slightly greenish liquid, a thin soup it looks like, but the plate has several pieces of what I''m sure is a roasted monkey. I dig In without any further hesitation. The meat is roasted well, and while it has a very strong gamey flavour on top of being a tough meat, its everything I didn''t know I wanted since I woke up. The liquid is surprisingly cool, I find, as I tip the bowl to my lips. It isn''t as satisfying as the meat and has an overall flavour of... green, but it works wonders in making me more comfortable. A trader. (I''m sorry?) Earlier, you asked what brought me here. I''m a trader. I was meant to be travelling across the sea when my boat was attacked and I wound up on the shore. Running into the woods was the only chance I had despite having no idea what lay inside. (You possess abilities much greater than I would expect of a trader. Even the strongest I''ve encountered prefer to travel with guards rather than alone.) Well, I''m far from normal. (I can tell. It is a shame you cannot disclose your past. I imagine it would be a great matter of interest to me.) I only shrug in response. I do have three questions for you if you wouldn''t mind answering them. (Ask away boy, you''ve answered my own fairly.) Ok. Firstly, what are you and your people doing in the middle of nowhere? You''re civilised enough to build up something greater than this, surely. (I wish more had such an open mind, but to many, we skaleans are seen as a threat. If we develop and gain the focus of a governmental power, we''ll be eliminated. Besides, I''m old, I have no desires to start a war.) Fair enough. Secondly, you mentioned the forest king. You were a magus in his court? Why haven''t I seen any evidence of such a kingdom here? Syzslic leans back slightly and closes his eyes, slowly tearing strips of meat from his plate. (Time for a brief history lesson, it seems. Until recently, this whole forest was under the leadership of a greater drake who called himself the forest king. At first, there was no order. He killed anyone who questioned him and ate whoever and whatever he desired. But my descendants came to him with a proposition. Those that had observed the human kingdoms wanted to replicate the hierarchal system and presented with a king, they could. The drake agreed and slowly, the fauna of the forest came together under his rule. He was a fair king, and a just ruler.) He smiles softly to himself, slowly chewing on a bone, as he talks fondly of his people''s past. I am more than happy to relax and listen to him. (Over hundreds of years, the kingdom grew until many many acres of forest was replaced by a castle of earth that the court magi had painstakingly formed. The kingdom flourished on its own land, hidden in an area that most other species would consider a death sentence. But one day, a rival Drake appeared. She must have been looking for the forest king, perhaps she heard of his exploits. She challenged him and the two fought. Even the full support of his court couldn''t change the tide of their epic battle. It was all some of us could do to escape alive. As a magus, I managed to escape with my family and as many eggs as I could bring. So I started anew, raised my tribe using the lessons of leadership I learnt from my king.) In my mind, I can pick up on the sorrow in his voice. These must be painful memories for him. So what happened to the king and the rival? (They killed each other. I returned to the ruins of the castle weeks later. Huge gouges out of the earth for miles around. All that remained of the castle was a still-smouldering crater. Both bodies lay slain in a violent embrace. We were the only survivors... along with the apes.) Do you mean the monkeys that attacked Alys and me? (Not exactly. The species that survived was called higher ape. They were almost human-like but retained certain monstrous features. Instead of surviving and thriving as we did, the dozen or so that escaped fell into madness and depression. They devolved so they might survive on more primal instinct than higher thought. It is a sad state of affairs. Sadder yet is that they are our only viable source of food.) I''ve seen worse done after wars. (You are young, but something about you makes me believe you.) I''m sorry if I''ve bought up painful memories. (Not at all, boy. It''s necessary to remember ones past. Its the only way one can learn.) I nod along, well versed in the lesson of learning from past mistakes. In my more recent lives, I often found myself diving into my memories more often than I did before. Why I can''t say for sure. Perhaps I wanted to stop myself from forgetting. I would hate to forget. (But you had one more question, I believe.) I pause, momentarily forgetting what I was going to ask. I got so into the story that I''ve completely forgotten my final question. It can wait. For now, though, I must relieve myself. I would like to talk more when I return though. (Very well, but please take it far from the village, our senses are far more acute than yours.) Of course. I leave the hut, passing Alys just outside the door as he was about to enter. He raises a scaled arch above his eye, imitating raising an eyebrow. I nod back, smiling softly in response to his silent question. I think that the meeting went well. I walk away into the woods, looking for a place where I can squat and think for a few minutes while I relieve myself. To think that two creatures of such titanic power fought here fairly recently is astounding and I want to see what the remains of the castle are. I have a feeling that learning about this forests past will be a key factor in surviving it when I leave the skalean village. "Ah shit, I was going to ask about the black wood." Annoyed at myself for it taking so long to remember what had first drawn my attention about the whole village, I pick the closest tree to me that I think if far away enough from the village. "Really hope I don''t get ambushed with my trousers down. It would be the last thing I need today." Best not to jinx it, huh. Chapter 17 - Im Optimistic I return to the village just as a group of several male and female skaleans leaving, all equipped with basic metal-bladed daggers and wooden bows. They give off me than just a threatening vibe and some even glare at me as they pass. But they leave the village without any commotion and I return to the chief''s hut feeling optimistic. I push open the leather flap and surprisingly, the chief is conversing with a young female of the species through a manner of hisses. Judging by her size relative to the rest of the species, I would place her around 15 years. Still adolescent, but most likely in the skaleans version of puberty. Before she leaves, she presses the bottom of her jaw onto the top of his head. Unsure of what the context is, I silently wait by the entrance for... something to occur. The young female leaves without even acknowledging my presence and the chief ushers me forwards and indicates I sit again. Was I interrupting? (Not at all. I was just giving my granddaughter my blessing before she leaves with the hunting party.) Ah, so that''s why they were armed to the fang. (You saw them, huh? Well, it''s all I can do to give them a blessing of luck as I''m far too old to join them.) They held only physical weapons, do none of them know magic? (Not in any practical sense. I was gifted my magic by my superiors when I was younger and grew with the gift. I cannot pass it on, and so my magically challenged species must invest in their bodies rather than their minds.) What do you mean by a gift? (You have not encountered a gift from the gods? I assumed your soul was a result of direct influence.) I lean back and consider it for a moment. Perhaps it was the influence of a god that has brought me this far. Maybe it''s been the gods of this world, Senca specifically, that have allowed me to respawn so many times on earth and then brought me to Ledanen. You know, that might just be true. Is it obvious when a god gifts power to someone? (Not at all. The gift given to me was inspiration. It was only years after that I realised it was Meli that had made the source of my power. A book that could only be read once. I read it and learned truths I would never be able to pass on. Not only did the book disappear, but I was restricted by the gods to never communicate much of what I read.) Interesting. Assuming that it really was one of the three gods that gave me the ability to respawn, then they must have some steadfast form of influence on earth. It seems ironic that what may be the true formation of deific powers is most likely one that the people of earth have never thought of before. But there''s so much to Earth and likely Ledanen that cant be covered by the three gods alone. (Reuben, is something I said troubling?) Aside from using said in that way, no. I''m just wondering about the limit to the power the gods can wield. (Ah, a good topic of conversation, but one that I have drawn a multitude of conclusions from.) His casual mention of what could be a long-winded discussion makes me think I''m beginning to overstay my welcome in his hut. Is it really alright for me to be here talking to you? I mean, I have no ties right now, but I feel like I''m overstepping. Syzslic gives off a dissatisfied huff and tilts his head slightly. (I love my people, but they are not... as intellectually gifted as you. And even then, you display far greater intelligence than your mana capacity would suggest.) I open my mouth by reflex, needing to ask him about his ability to see my mana, but he holds up a hand, stopping me before I can even start. (What I am saying is, that you have the capacity to learn what I have the ability to teach, a circumstance that I have starved for, for decades.) I swallow, deliberately mulling over his words in my mind. You want to teach me? (My boy, your magic is fresh, it is wild and unruly. If I can watch you temper it under my instruction, then I will teach you all the magic these old bones can muster.) I pause again, truly taken aback by his offer. I need someone to teach me how to use my spells properly. According to what Declan had told me, it can''t be that difficult to learn magic. Besides, Syzslic seems to be hinting at how shapeless magic might make the process of learning easier.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Well, I really don''t have any ties to the world outside of this forest right now, and I could do with a change of pace. The edges of Syzslics mouth curve up as I communicate my agreement, and he nods slowly when I''m finished. (Excellent! We begin immediately!) Displaying far more agility than I would have expected from him, Syzslic stands up, extinguishing his flame and throwing open the leather door flap with a wave of his hand. Which reveals the last dregs of light falling beneath the tree line. (Ah. I suppose you lack the ability to see through the dark?) I stand and look out into the rapidly darkening woods. There are no clouds above me, but there is also a lack of any bright constellations. I can make out several objects that could be moons, but all are smaller and reflect less light than the one orbiting earth. If I really strain my eyes, I think I can make out a handful of stars too. (I''ll take that as a yes. I believe we have an empty hut by the cliff''s edge. I''ll show you there if you would like.) Syzslics words barely register in my brain. The sight of such an empty sky has really made me realise how far from home I am. I''ve considered so many places on earth my home, but now I feel like I''ve moved away from everything I knew. This must be how people feel when they first find their own house after growing up with their parents around. While new and exciting, it''s all a little daunting. Uh, yes, please. Are the nights much colder than the day? (Not by much. I''ll show you where you can get a drink too if you need it.) Thank you. Syzslic ignites another flame above his head without any visual effort. Using this magic light source, he gives me a brief tour of the village. Several huts of varying size, some of which extend into the ground for more space. The source of the cooling green drink I received before is a mix of ground and strained plant juices and some kind of very weak sap that they tap from the trees. (The blasted trees underwent a dramatic change during the fight between the forest king and the female drake. The wild natural mana given off caused a chain reaction in the forest that made all the plant life more dependant on water, reaching deeper and wider to drink as much as possible. Streams dried up, so we adapted too and stole back from the trees what belongs to the forest.) What do you mean by natural mana? And how does it cause the trees to change? (Ahhh, it is good that you are so inquisitive, but that shall have to wait until tomorrow. For now, get some rest, yo have travelled from the crystal sea to here in one day must have been taxing. I shall send someone to wake you at dawn.) He nods to me and walks away, letting his fire slowly dim as his own reptilian eyes apparently don''t need it. Sighing at the exhaustion that threatens to take me out at any moment, I feel around for the leather flap door and push it aside, collapsing on the floor which is pleasantly soft. Soft and warm...
I don''t dream. At least, not in the traditional sense. When I do dream, which is rare, its never something I''ve been able to understand. revenants of my past, personas I''ve adopted interacting with each other. A handful of random personalities, all fragments of myself. they share looks between themselves, no words pass between any two. an entire conversation taking place silently. at my mental age, my ability to recognise my own mannerisms, emotions and intentions from subtle hints is flawless. but not for me, now. for me, its just a string of loosely connected memories. I''m only ever on this side of the conversation; the outside. They all turn to look at me as one. a dark-skinned woman dressed in tight furs with a bright red arrow painted on her forehead. a woman with a golden gown adorned by silks, black and blue make-up framing her face. a third woman, dressed in aloose beige suit protecting the identity of her gender with short hair and a short fake beard. if I didn''t remember the times I disguised myself, I never would have known her true gender. and finally, a young man, his skin almost white. battle armour of woven leathers painted dark blue and black. his fur-lined armour intending to protect him from the elements as much as his enemies. Not all of them had names, at least not ones I took. each was known in their own way. One a hunter that would usurp her chief, one an assassin sent to attend to a royal, one a novelist disguising her gender to force an opportunity, and one a young and frightened warrior facing a far superior enemy. I am them, and they are me, but in my dream, they are their own people. And they stare; their breaths and blinks in sync. ""Wake up, Reuben. Your soul will meet again. soon.""
*thwack* -5hp "What?! Wha- who?!" I bolt upright, sharp stinging pain in my forehead. An annoying headache fading before it has the chance to fully form. My vision quickly focuses, the still-dark hut and slightly brighter doorway providing a creepy silhouette of some snake-man hybrid. A few seconds of confusion and irritated hissing later, and it''s all come back to me. The last thing I remember is falling asleep in a hut... after coming to a village guided by...the chief''s grandson. I can''t remember his name, but I recognise his glare. I smirk, somewhat amused at how he''s been sent to wake me up. For someone who is basically their version of royalty, a glorified wake-up caller is probably beneath him. "Morning, sunshine." I don''t know if he picks up on the smirk in my voice, but he seems to be slightly amused by my shining candour. I take a moment to relieve myself over the edge of the cliff, disrupting some birds that are nesting lower in the valley. They remain low to the floor of the gorge, staying far below ground level for whatever reason. Perhaps since there appears to be no way up or down the sheer rock faces, it''s the safest place to be considering the ability of the predatory monkeys. Smart birds. "Ah, it was Alys." I remember the name of the chief''s grandson, a word that sounds foreign to my mind. That''s the way it would be spoken in the human tongue, but the Skaleans way of saying it, and how it''s interpreted in my mind must be completely different. I wonder how my current name would be pronounced in hisses. Alys gives me an odd look at my outburst. I would apologise, but such an act would be pointless if he can''t understand me. Sorry, bud. I feel strangely optimistic about where I am now. With no obligations or ties to the world outside of the forest, I''m eager to fall back to my roots and rebuild my knowledge through someone who wants to teach me without me having to fight for him. Declan was a fine teacher, but he seemed like he felt more obligated than actually willing to teach me. He was more of a leader, but Syzslic shows himself to be more of a teacher. I''m ready for whatever he can throw at me. Chapter 18 - Im Ready *slam* -19hp I''m launched high into the air, landing perfectly in a dense bush softly enough to not lose any more hp. "Owwwwww" So maybe I can''t take everything he has to throw at me. Specifically, Syzslic seems more than happy to throw walls of pure and very hard mana at me. (Boy, you need to need to adapt to the formation. You must replicate it. This is the first step in defensive magic.) I sigh, falling out of the tall shrub and flexing my cramping wings. I stumble back to the indicated training area where Syzslic is waiting with his clawed hands tucked behind his back. (We will repeat this until you can do it right. Now, watch how the shield forms, and intercept it with your own.) I ease into the stance I''ve been told is common among novice casters. Slightly crouched and leaning forwards with both my hands held loosely out in front of me, palms facing my target. It''s a position that embarrassed me at first, standing in such a way in front of someone who can do much more standing normally, but after getting thrown around a few times by his infuriatingly solid shields, I couldn''t give less of a shit. (Ready?) I nod, focusing on drawing mana into my palms. There, it''s ready and waiting to be formed into whatever spell I command it to. It would be all too easy to cast Fast at him, but it would likely result in further injury. Without any indication of effort on his behalf, Syzslic gathers mana in front of him. A square of transparent blue that grows into a large wall, visibly thick. No matter how many times I''ve seen him make the mana do this, I don''t know what he''s done. But that''s not the vital part. I''m not supposed to be growing a shield in the same way as him. He tilts his head forwards, and the wall starts moving towards me, picking up speed. When it''s no more than a meter in front of my hands, I force the mana out of my palms, imagining an instant and perfect shield to appear in front of me. -25mp A blue flash bursts from my palms, but nothing else happens. *slam* -41hp "Fuuuuuuuuuuu-" -36hp My flight in rudely interrupted by a branch that blows the breath out of me and breaks at least one of my ribs. I land under the tree in a broken mess. Both of my arms are sporting at least one break, and the branch messed up my ribcage. The pain is bad, but gasping for breath makes it worse. (You lack the focus necessary. You might be able to envision your mana, and you can expel it easily enough, but the missing link is focus.) I try to get to my feet, using my wings more than my arms to push me up, but they aren''t strong enough, and I fall forwards, painfully grinding broken bones against each other. -25hp "Ughhhhh." (*sigh*. Next, I must teach you some healing if your body insists upon being so fragile.) +100hp Instantly, my ribs are intact again, and my arms are healed with only a little stiffness remaining. I check my status as I stand up, noticing that the 20 or so health I''m still missing must be due to the muscles around my ribs being damaged. Instead of angering me with the pain, I''m just motivated further. If I have such a powerful mind, I need to focus on the task at hand. I can''t keep my mind hung up on the all too recent history. As much as it pains me to, I have to forget those who were so welcoming to me. For a little while. Entering the ring drawn in the dirt, I re-enter the stance and draw mana into my palms. I imagine the wall of mana that Syzslic is already forming. My own wall; Thinner, but every bit as stable. I can picture it as a perfectly square barrier of transparent blue extending outwards from my palms.Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. (Ready?) I shut my eyes, trying to sense the mana instead of seeing it, then realise I''m worse off than before because I don''t have that kind of ability, and open them quickly. Ready. The mana wall accelerates at me again, and I and I draw my focus almost entirely to my hands, and the mana held within. Focus... The wall. The mana. Nothing else matters. Again, just before the mana wall hits, I push out what I''m holding, willing it to defend me. -30mp I scrunch my eyes shut tight, preparing myself for an impact. And... -2hp I stumble back a few steps, falling backwards as my heel hits the boundary of the training circle. My eyes fly open as I fall, catching a glimpse of a bright blue screen floating just in front of me.
Congratulations
Barrier: Prevent physical force by negating impact with a mana barrier. Mana cost dependant on the quantity and strength of casting. (Max mana per barrier: 10)
(Congratulations, you''ve learnt your first own spell. A physical shield will be useful for a weak bodied individual.) I stand, flexing my hands which are tingling slightly. Apparently, my shapeless magic changed it. It''s just called barrier for me. (I''m not surprised. Shapeless magic is a perk that has altered both your body and the composition of your mana itself. Both have adapted to suit each other better. Your body will not restrict the flow of mana, and your mana will not ignite the flesh it travels through.) Wait, what!? A shocked expression covers my face as I step back into the ring. (Yes, it is fairly common for young magic students to be scarred as they cannot control the proper routes and forms that mana must take to be able to safely traverse the body.) I''ve never seen anything like that. (That is understandable. It is something of a mark of shame to be scarred by poor control. As they grow though, they will most likely learn enough healing or illusory arts to be able to remove any evidence of their past failure.) Did you ever get burnt by your mana? It''s a petty type of revenge I''m aiming for here, but as the ancient Skalean is every part my superior, this is all I have. And from the irritated look on his face, I can tell I''ve struck a nerve. (Absolutely not. You humans might be ridden with scars of mistakes, and while I understand it is a brutally effective lesson for budding magicians to learn, we skaleans learnt properly.) Subconsciously, I can see him rubbing at his forearms behind his back. I manage to keep from smirking, but my mood is slightly lifted further. (Well, enough about me. Try your spell!) In the magic ready position, I pull mana into my hands and imagine a shield forming. "Barrier." Spell cast (x2) -20mp In each of my hands forms a completely square barrier of mana roughly a half meter tall and wide. Bringing my hands closer together while keeping them parallel, the squares practically jump to each other, creating a rectangle instead, this one tall and wide enough to protect me from threats in front of me. "Wow." (Just like with your offensive spell, you will very quickly be able to cast this with almost no thought; the image of protection forming as you cast it.) Still staring in wonder at the shield that is trying to keep my hands parallel regardless of how I move them, I don''t notice as Syzslic picks up a ball of dirt with magic. A thin membrane of blue giving away how he''s doing it. (Control of your shields will be an invaluable asset. Motion, control, strength. We will spend the remainder of today refining your shield. Because as you can see-) The ball shoots towards me at incredible speed, shattering the shield effortlessly and hitting me in the chest. I don''t take any damage, but I still felt the impact was much less than it should have been. (-your shield is still rather weak.) Agreed.
Despite his earlier insisting that I learn healing magic, all my efforts of the day are spent learning how to control my barrier. Through the constant repetitive making and breaking of my basic shields, I slowly get better at controlling my mana too. I can''t really move it any faster than before, but it''s easier to keep up a constant stream from what Syzslic calls my core to wherever I''m casting from. By mid-afternoon, I''m hit by a debuff. Mana Sickness (360:00) I don''t bother trying to ask the system what it means at first, as I''ve been able to power through sickness before, but as soon as I try to force the mana from my hands, I can feel the difference. The mana is sluggish. Instead of leading a stream of water through my flesh effortlessly, it feels like I''m trying to dig through hard dirt with only my hands. I can still channel the mana, but it''s far more of an effort. Syzslic notices my discomfort, and from the satisfied look on his face, I can tell he''s been expecting this. (Ah, mana sickness, huh? A death sentence for most while fighting, but not so for the Forest kings court, and neither will it be for you. This is where your training really begins.) Something tells me this is what separated the Skaleans from the rest of the sentient forest citizens. (In a way you are correct, but in another, there was much that made us different. We were not superior in any way, as our own physical abilities are not as impressive as many others.) I don''t know, those hunters I saw yesterday seemed pretty physically able. (Yes, but as far as they have come, they would have no chance against any of the body-focused guardians of the court. I will forge you into a guardian reminiscent of my own brethren.) I laugh weakly. Sure, I''ve been tested before, but I''m sure this is going to be a whole other calibre of painful. But I can do it. I''m ready. Chapter 19 - Im not Ready Mana Sickness V: (50:00:00) As soon as the notification appears, I gasp and collapse. The shields that I had been maintaining over my vitals disperse, and the streams of mana I was using to form them disappear, too weak to even harm me.
FeatUnlocked
Mana Death
Mana Death
You have forced your body past its limits and irrevocably changed how mana can flow within your body.
Effect: All mana limits on spells are doubled
My body is beyond exhausted but the only thing keep in me conscious is the already familiar pain of mana strain radiating in a dozen different directions from my chest to my limbs. I can hear soft steps approaching me, and I force an eye open, watching Syzslic crouch near me and hold out both his hands towards me. (I''m impressed by your will. So few of us could pass this test. And if you failed the first time, the chances of later success were far, far lower. It warms my heart to know that the old ways of teaching are still possible. This world has not become too soft just yet.) A soothing coolness spreads out in my body from my core outwards. I gasp in relief, relaxing incredibly quickly. (I cannot accelerate the rate of recovery of your body. Not even your natural regeneration can help. The mana death feat is more than just an increased limit. It is the beginning of permanent changes in your body. It will become more used to your specific style of casting. You will find that you can cast faster and easier as you continue to practice. Already, your barrier spell is at the level of a Higher Physical Shield. In the following days, I''m sure you will...) I fail to hear anything else he tells me, as I finally slip from consciousness just as the sun rises, my first 24-hour magic lesson finally over.
I don''t dream, in that I don''t see my past lives, but I do cling to some form of consciousness within my own exhausted mind. For just a few fleeting seconds, I can see the darkness. A place similar to my own personal purgatory that I only see when I die. Did I die? Did the force of so much mana through me kill me? Before I can even try to answer my own questions, my perception slips and I Falk back into a deep slumber.
I wake with a gasp, sure that I''ve died and respawned somewhere. But the screaming pain in my chest tells otherwise. "Ughhh...." I groan as I slowly ease myself into a more comfortable position and take slow breaths that don''t strain my body too much. How long have I slept? Like a perfectly timed reminder, my mana sickness debuff appears near the edge of my vision. Mana Sickness V (39:16:19) So almost 12 hours had passed since I first fell in the arena. Looking around, I could recognise the interior of the spare hut Syzslic had put me in before. But the darkness lets me know that it is approaching evening again. As much as I want to fall back into a painless slumber, my stomach is complaining far more than my healing body. I would have to get up and get some food. And fast. Taking a deep and tight breath, I push myself into a sitting position, screaming between my teeth the entire way. At the sound, my familiar companion Alys rushes into the hut looking concerned. "Ah. Perfect timing. Help, please." He nods as if he understands and runs out of the hut in an instant. While he''s gone doing or getting whatever I''m supposed to have, I revel in the newly discovered fact that my sleeping arrangements have been upgraded. A thin layer of what must be monkey furs covers the area that I''m lying on. Though I''m sitting up, it''s too dark to see if any other improvements have been made in the hut, and I''m not all too concerned about that anyway. In barely a minute, Alys is back with a wooden plate of already torn apart meat and a large pot of the green drink I''m going to refer to as forest water. He places the food and drink next to me and from outside the hut passes me a shallow cup so I can drink from the pot easier. I appreciate what he''s bought me. Though I''m sure these are instructions from the chief, I''m glad at his urgency. He lifts a few scraps of meat up to my mouth, but I take them from him and feed myself instead of allowing him to do it. I''m still capable of feeding myself. He puts his hand on my shoulder in sympathy and retreats outside of the hut again. Trying not to think too hard over a headache that I''ve been trying to ignore, I fill myself with meat and forest water. Satisfied, I then lie back down and easily fall asleep again.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
*smack* -2hp "Why?!" I wake up with a jolt, crying out with displeasure. Why does it always seem to hurt when I wake up? Speaking of which, I still hurt all over, but nowhere near as bad as before. I look up to whoever dared disturb my beauty sleep and I''m mildly surprised to see a Skalean I don''t recognise. A young female, likely sent by Syzslic. Maybe one of his relatives even. He seems all too keen to use his family to run his errands. She beckons me outside of the hut, and I slowly follow. My muscles ache like I spent the last day doing an intense workout. My skin feels sticky like I did just that too. I need to wash somewhere, and soon. It''s early morning outside. The sun has risen but is still fairly low in the sky. Luckily, the clifftop is still cool from the night. Carelessly, I''m thrown a leg of meat by my guide and slowly eat it as we reach the chief''s hut. Somehow, the meat makes me feel slightly better and despite my suffering, I''m in a fairly good mood as I follow the female Skalean into the hut. (Good morning my student. I trust you slept well?) I sit in the same spot Syzslic put me in before and hesitate, unsure of how to answer. I slept as well as could be expected considering what happened to me. (Yes, the first step is often the hardest in trials such as these. This isn''t one of those cases though. Being able to reach the final stage of mana sickness is certainly a difficult step, but it is hardly the greatest challenge you will face.) Though I want to despair at his words, I''m somehow excited to see what he can throw at me. His training might be extreme, but in a world that rewards extreme risk with a suitable reward, I''m more eager to challenge myself than ever before. (So, are you ready for today''s training?) Despite my mental bravado, that simple question makes an ice cold chill run down my spine. The fear of torturous effort must be obvious on my face already. Sure. With a gasping wheeze, Syzslic leans forwards and begins to laugh in his weird snake-language. To a speaker of the common tongue, it just sounds like wheezing gasps and rapid-fire hissing fits. Its certainly an odd spectacle to behold, and my surprised expression isn''t helping the elder calm down at all. After more time than I''m comfortable with, Syzslic dabs away at his eyes using his robe and addresses me again, much calmer this time. The remnants of his laughing fit are all too obvious in the way he communicates though. (My, my. I haven''t laughed like that in a long time. The fear on your face... well, you will be happy to know that there is no more magic training for today. Until your body adjusts to the excessive mana that you managed to manipulate before, there will be no more magic training.) I sigh in relief. I don''t know if it would even be possible for me to use any of my mana let alone engage in another day-long magic excursion. (No, today you will be training your body. Specifically, against my hunters.) My breath catches in my throat. With my body aching and in such pain, how would I possibly be able to physically compete with creatures that have invested in their body all their lives? My shock must be evident on my face again as Syzslic grins, showing off his long teeth. (And I''m not kidding this time. Your body is currently in a state of magical flux. Extreme improvements to your physique while in this state will grant you at least one trait that cannot be gained any other way. And as I mentioned before, it will be far, far more difficult for you to reach this level of mana sickness again, so this is your only chance.) I groan, not looking forward to what is to come. For some reason, the hunters showed hostility towards me when I almost ran into them, so I doubt they''re going to go easy on me. The only trump card that I hold is my past training. I won''t claim to be a master in any sort of combat art, but I''ve at least tasted almost every form of hand-to-hand combat beneath my experience with most weapons. (Take the day to rest and recuperate. Try and work those sore muscles loose. The hunters will be waiting in the training area when the sun reaches the horizon. I suggest you do not keep them waiting.) I nod and leave the hut, still dreading the shit night I know I''m soon to experience. I''ve taken out my feelings on the leg of meat I was given and at some point, I started gnawing on the bone. What do I do all day before my inevitable torture? As much as it pains me to say to myself, I have to train. I''m a little rusty in my combat forms, and I want to be able to put on a show for the arrogant hunters. Even walking back to my hut sends firey ropes of pain through my legs, but I don''t let it stop me. My hut is the only really private place that I''ve been given and in the already uncomfortable heat, it''s the only place I know I can get really comfortable. My day passes slowly and painfully. In the hours leading up to join, I ease my body through some basic, then advanced yoga poses. While it does little to increase my apparent physical potential, it does wonders for helping me to remove the aches of my changing muscles. By the time I take a break to join in with the tribe''s lunch, my body feels light again. The searing pain of mana sickness nothing more than an uncomfortable memory. Invigorated by the meal, I devote my afternoon to some slightly more demanding exercise and spend a short amount of time stretching and warming up my already too-hot body. Then I take a run, starting slowly around the border of the village then accelerating as I reach the cliff edge, following it as I enter the packed forest again. Without being able to clearly see the ground through the foliage, I stumble a few times over roots, but I don''t let that slow me too much. All too quickly, I reach the end of the particular chasm I''ve been running parallel too and take a few minutes to catch my breath. Physical limits pushed. +1 body "Woooo." Lying on the ground in a sweaty mess, I celebrate weakly. Every little point in body is probably going to help me here. I''m reminded again that I have at least one physical perk to choose, but I''m willing to put off a decision again. Much like the plus that appeared next to my own level, I want advice before moving on with such a decision. I give myself as much time to relax as I can, but as soon as I start to get bored, I start walking back to the village. With a slower progression, I have more time to focus on my surroundings more. This close to the chasm, I can see evidence that the birds that supposedly stay below ground level have been here fairly recently. Most likely they rise up to the forest to collect nest materials and possibly food. Much like the apes, I can only wonder about what they eat. I simply don''t know enough about the general area or ecosystem to start applying earthen knowledge to the situation. As I try to walk closer and closer to the edge, hoping to see some more of what the birds look like closer up, I''m alerted by a subtle rustle in the darkness close to me. I give the source of the noise no indication that I''ve heard them and simply pick up the pace again, jogging back to the village. I can''t fight whatever is trailing me properly without my magic, and rather annoyingly, I still have over a full day before I''m supposed to be able to use my mana again. All I can do is evade if it comes to it, so I keep an eye aimed at the deep woods to my right. A flash of light green between the trees tells me all I need to know and I slow down to a walk again. The green scales of a Skalean were obvious enough that I realise it must have been a curious youth that followed me, or perhaps a hunter making sure I''m not trying to escape their wrath. Though I''m somewhat annoyed at the small reward I got for the effort I put in, I''m glad I have a better grasp of how to increase my body stat. I''m no stranger to pushing myself. All too quickly, I''m back at the village. By my best guess, I still have an hour or two before I need to fight the hunters, so I retreat back to my hut and lie down, fully intending to have a brief nap before I''m summoned. The fatigue of my magic training is still present and I''ve only compounded on that by pushing myself to get rid of the pain. I yawn deeply, wishing for the air to cool down even a little bit to a slightly more comfortable temperature. Despite the sticky warmth, I doze off quickly, only a lingering unease present in my mind. Chapter 20 - I am Formidable For the first time in this damn village, I wake up without any painful intervention. That doesn''t make my rising any less annoying though, as instead of being hit by a Skalean, it''s the sun''s rays that hit me in the face, burning through my shut eyes. My idiotic past self must have left the door flap half open, so as the sun dropped lower in the sky it stretched further in, seemingly just to wake me. Despite my body feeling somewhat refreshed, I feel... starved of something. I''m not altogether that hungry, and while I''m certainly thirsty after having a power nap inside an oven-like hut, it''s not that either. I feel like I''m expectant of something but I''m not sure what. I shrug off the feeling, pushing it to the back of my mind. Glancing outside, it''s almost time for me to meet the hunters in the training area. I need to be on the top of my game for this. All I have time to do is quickly run into the deeper woods to relieve myself and then perform a hasty array of stretches while trying to re-hydrate myself at the edge of the training ring. The group of hunters wait at the opposite side, sitting in a huddled group, occasionally throwing a glance my way. I can hear hushed hissing whispers and the occasional snort of their laughter. I know they''re not going to take me seriously, so I''m more than happy to teach them a brief lesson. I''m sure they''re going to be superior to me in terms of strength, speed and reflexes, but I have centuries of experience. I''ve waged wars, fought countless enemies, and while my win-to-loss ratio isn''t all that impressive, I''ve learnt from every one of my failures. We wait for only a few moments before Syzslic appears from seemingly nowhere and claps his clawed hands. He speaks to the hunters while mentally speaking to me. (The rules of this bout are this: no fatal strikes. Each fight will last three rounds. There is no time limit to each round, but you are limited by the training ring. There are no weapons allowed, but no form of hand-to-hand combat is prohibited. If you fall below fifteen percent of your health, then you must tap out. If you fall below ten percent before you can tap out, you lose. You may, of course, tap out at any time. A tap out is three knocks on the ground using any available limb. Rendering your opponent unconscious is allowed, but no further than that. A victory is achieved by reducing your opponent''s health to ten percent, reducing them to unconsciousness, or removing them from the ring. Winning two of the three rounds through any of the previous methods will result in a victory against the opponent. Are these rules understood?) All of us waiting nod our heads and I''m given a notification.
The arena rules of the Skalean Hunters have been put into effect.
The challenger (Reuben) will fight each Hunter one-on-one through three rounds. The challenger may progress through the champions regardless of result.
Rewards: +1 to body for every round won. +3 to body for every champion defeated. Class and personal xp may be rewarded upon round and champion victories.
It takes me only a few seconds to digest the information. This must be what Syzslic has had in mind the whole time. We must have met some conditions for this to have happened, and they must be harsh conditions because the hunters look eagerly at the makeshift arena despite the easy fight they think they have ahead of them. There are six hunters, four male and two female, so I have a potential gain of 30 points to my body. I doubt I''ll even get a handful of them. (Reuben, if you are ready...) I nod and step into the arena. Syzslic hisses at the group of hunters and one of the males steps forwards. He is no shorter or skinnier than the other males, but I suspect that by the way the others behind him are watching, he is either younger or less experienced. Regardless, I''d be lying if I said I wasn''t nervous.
3... 2... 1... Fight!
Immediately, my mind goes blank and I almost panic at the sudden command. My opponent shifts into a stance similar to a boxer and raises his hands as fists. He steadily walks towards me, his neck back and concentration in his eyes. I replicate the stance, pre-emptively guarding my neck and face. Then when my opponent reaches the centre of the arena and continues to advance, I drop the stance, remembering what Syzslic said about nothing being prohibited. Taking a deep breath to steady my nerves, I shift my feet and lower my body into a ready position for judo. I get an odd look from the young Hunter, but he continues to advance and watch me carefully. I remain passive until he gets close enough to strike, and strike he does. As soon as he gets me in range, he jabs towards my head incredibly quickly. I''m only barely able to dodge, and I''m surprised by his speed again as I have to twist my torso to avoid a badly aimed punch at my stomach. If I get hit in the chest too hard, I''ll likely asphyxiate and fall unconscious just as easily as being knocked out by a head shot. I step back to give myself more space and another chance, ever conscious of the edge of the ring. The hunter follows me, sure that I''ve only made it easier for him to push me out of the arena. He goes for a square punch to my chest, and I react by grabbing his extended wrist before it can reach me, putting my other hand flat on his chest, and tripping him over my left foot. He stumbles until I push with my right hand and pull with my left, effectively spinning him out of the boundary.
Danis has left the ring!
Match 1 round 1 over. Victory: Reuben the challenger. Reward: +1 Body
I''m given little time to celebrate or question the lack of xp gain as the now very pissed off Hunter roughly shakes my hands free and returns to where he started from. I do the same and immediately the countdown returns.
Fight!
The Hunter sprints at me, no pretence of tactics at all. He holds both of his hands outstretched, showing off his talons. Any kind of strike from him in this state will certainly force me from the arena, and might also kill me. I meet his sprint and try to predict how he''s going to attack. I''m far slower than him, so if I want to try to counter him at all, I''ll have to act fast. The hunter jumps and stretches a taloned foot out to my face. I immediately let my legs go limp and slide underneath the poorly executed attack. The rough ground is enough to scratch up my shins pretty badly and I lose a handful of hp because of it, but I would have lost a lot more if I hadn''t dodged that attack properly. I''m back on my feet as fast as I can, but the hunter is far faster and before I can try to formulate my next move, a scaled shin has found its way into the softest part of my torso and I''m launched backwards several feet by the impact. -81hp Status effect: Internal bleeding (16:30) My health starts to tick down by two or three every second. By my math, I have less than a minute before I hit the 15% mark and will have to tap out. I have to go ish this quickly or let myself fail with a concrete chance of being healed before I die. I''d rather not let my hp fall too far, as I stand to lose a fair bit by dying here. Syzslics teachings, though harsh, are all I need to be a competent fighter in this world.Stolen novel; please report. I weakly push myself up, causing my new internal injury to flare up. The bastard must have turned my guts into mush with that kick, and he didn''t look like he was holding back. He could have made it worse by using his clawed feet too, but thank Senca for small miracles. The young hunter is approaching again, a gleeful glint in his eyes. We both know I''m screwed. I quickly slam my hand on the ground three times, then roll onto my back.
Reuben has tapped out!
Match 1 round 2 over. Victory: Danis the Hunter.
Syzslic, if you can hear me, please heal me. (Hehehe... of course my foolish student.) As the cooling healing magic knits my organs back together through a mercifully numb few seconds, I have to admit to myself that while I can open a gap against someone stronger than me with less experience, it''s not that big of a gap. Overwhelming stat differences can''t be held back by much. And while I know that both my soul and probably mind are far above his, soul has very little combat potential besides increasing the amount of time I can fight for, and my dangerous mana capabilities are being shut off by this stupid sickness debuff! Once healed, I thank Syzslic and return to my starting position. The hunter is still glaring at me, but he knows that he has me rattled. If I lose to the first champion, I''ll have no chance against the rest.
Fight!
The young hunter stays standing where he is, waiting for me to come to him. It''s a smart play on his behalf, but one I''m plenty well versed in countering. A very flashy shock-and-awe kind of tactic that utilises anything and everything at hand. Instead of approaching him, I walk around the edge of the arena, causing him to constantly have to look over and adjust his feet to keep me in sight. The whole point of this is to make it look like I have a plan when I really don''t. I slowly edge closer, maintaining the circular course around my opponent. It''s a shame I have to resort to this so soon since the others will surely learn from it, but it''s the only way I can guarantee a solid victory. And it revolves around assuming that Syzslic hasn''t told them much about me. Wearing my shirt and ruined trousers, there''s almost no way to tell that my wings are pressed close to my back. Even when I''ve been in the village, I''ve kept my wings hidden as best I can. At the time, it was only to reduce the curiosity of the villagers, but it''s provided me with a unique opportunity. In one smooth motion, I leap towards the unsuspecting hunter and pull my wings out from my back, causing him to flinch from my sudden motion. I try and push my wings to give me more height and distance, enough that despite the painful stretching of the muscles, I end up with my knee at the perfect height for a headshot. The Skalean wisely raises his arms above his head at the same time as drawing it back so that I can''t hit it. Again, a smart move, but not smart enough. I twist my wings so that I rotate in the air, almost facing his back and unprotected head. With how much time he spends ensuring his long neck doesn''t get hurt, it must be a weak point. As I fall behind him, I reach out with both hands and manage to get one around his neck close to his head. I fall further, collapsing my legs and pulling his head down with me. I roll backwards onto my butt and put both my feet on his lower back, using my power over his head to force him to fall backwards. As soon as most of his weight is on my legs, and his hands are reaching back to try and force me to let go, I push up as hard as I can as I roll back completely. His large body swings back, a wholly painful experience not helped by his surprisingly weak neck muscles. When he lands just behind me, I know I have to use this moment properly. I roll onto my front, still keeping his head in a tight grip. His eyes are unfocused, but since I can''t see his status effects, I have no idea if he''s stunned or not. Not wanting to risk it, I rise up to a kneeling position and punch him hard on the snout. There''s no adverse reaction so I keep it up, slowly whittling his health down until I''m stopped from injuring him anymore. My hand is stopped in midair. I look over to Syzslic, an accusing glare painted on my face. He raises his hands to show that he isn''t the one doing this, then points above me.
Danis'' health has been reduced to 10%.
Match 1 complete. The winner is Reuben the Challenger. Reward: +4 Body.
Superior enemy defeated in an arena. personal xp (110)
class xp (xxx)
I fall back, gasping for breath. I lost myself in the fight and almost killed someone younger, tempted by the promise of stats and experience. Syzslic heals the boy as I slowly edge away, trying not to meet the deadly stares of the other hunters. I''m guessing they''re not happy I did something like that to one of their own. The fallen hunter is quickly healed by Syzslic and stands, looking confused before focusing on his own system message and punching the ground in frustration. Judging by the ease with which his hand compacts the hardened dirt, I suspect that even until the end he was going easy on me. He doesn''t look like he particularly wants to kill me because of my less-than-honourable methods, just that he''s angry he lost. He looks over to me with less anger than I thought I would get, so I walk over to him and offer my hand to help him up. Like I hoped, he accepts and I pull him to a standing position. A quick shake of hands and a small nod from him is all I get before he walks back to the group of hunters, his head lowered. I almost feel sorry for the kid, but the very recent memory of my mangled organs prevents it. He can only be a better fighter after this. (You may rest for five minutes before the second round begins.) "What!?" This is going to only get worse, isn''t it? Syzslic shoots me a smug grin. (Most likely.)
It''s only in my final match, halfway through the first round that I appear to gain what Syzslic wants me to.
Feat Unlocked
Mana-infused Growth
Mana-infused Growth
You have undergone dramatic muscle destruction and reconstruction under a state of mana flux.
Effects: Mana can be directly channelled into muscles to increase the effects to the body stat.
I don''t get to read it all at once, as the temporary distraction the message provides is enough for the hunter to savagely punch my throat, crushing my ability to breathe. -71hp (critical) Choking: (--:--) Before the subsequent status effect of asphyxiated even appears, my vision goes dark and the next thing I know I''m on the floor. +50hp +21hp
Reuben hasbeen rendered unconscious.
Match 6 round 1 over. Victory: Elor the Hunter.
Just like the vast majority of the rounds I''ve fought in, any attempts for me to outsmart my opponents have been crushed by their overwhelming force. after that first champion, I haven''t been given the chance to win a single match. the hunters underestimated me early on, so they all took on the same strategy of crushing my resistance early on. still, getting the four body points and the impressive sounding perk is enough for me, and I have no desire to get beaten up again beyond necessity, so as soon as the final match timer starts, I jump out of the circle, effectively forfeiting the match.
Reuben has left the arena!
Match 6 complete. The winner is Elor the Hunter.
The Hunters Tournament is over.
you have won 1/6 matches.
Additional rewards: (none)
Oh well. The day is almost over, with the evening sun far gone. it''s only about an hour until I won''t be able to see properly any more. The tournament was thankfully over fairly quickly, so with a short formal hand-shake with the final hunter and a thankyou aimed at Syzslic, I retreat to my hut. I''m hungry and despite the constant healing, I hurt in a dozen different ways. despite it all, I fall asleep almost instantly. Though I may not have put up much of a fight against the hunters, I hope that now they at least understand that in some way, I am formidable. Chapter 21 - Body Building Mana Sickness V (2:24:18) The first thing I see when I wake is the painful reminder of my own changing body. I can''t have helped my body''s effort in altering itself by forcing that new perk, which explains the fresh hell descended on my muscles specifically. At least it''s not the deep pain of the mana death that I could swear I felt in my soul... But this isn''t much better. And as I always seem to be when I wake up in this village, I''m starving. I can''t have been in this new body for even a week yet, but the need for nourishment has never been far. I know that if I can gather up the sheer effort required to sit up and even crawl out of this hut, that I can get some wonderful life-giving meat and equally wonderful forest water. My inner demons, and the limbs they possess fight valiantly. But I prevail against their fiery bonds and emerge from my hut a new man! Despite the semi-heroic pose, I''m in, I snicker. It''s healthy to let my mind wander and act a little silly from time to time. Especially since this new world has forced me to hop from stressful situation to stressful situation like a pixelated frog. Watching the emergence of computer technology was like watching another industrial revolution. I''m not going to be there to see what happens, but I''m sure they''ll have all kinds of cool things people could only have dreamt of. But enough useless wondering. In a world of mana, I doubt electrical technology will ever really take off. The realm of computing might be something unique to earth. A necessity borne of a lack of magic. Syzslic breaks my very whimsical thoughts by gliding into view. (You look to be in a good mood this morning.) I causally begin stretching and flexing my body. For some reason, the aching has spread to my wings; an issue that hasn''t been present since last night. I feel good. You know, my body doesn''t, but I feel like I achieved something big yesterday. (In a way, you did. I hoped you would pose more of a threat to my hunters, but your second victory against Danis was enough to ruffle their scales. I''ve not seen a style of fighting like yours.) I debate hiding the details of my martial experience, but for a reclusive tribe that''s probably had little to no contact with humans, I can afford to pay them back with some information. I used two different styles. In the first fight, I used simple counter from the Judo style. Mostly throws and counters, it''s a style that capitalises on your opponent being stronger but slower than you. I managed to use the counter by surprising Danis. But because the hunters were all faster than me and probably expecting a counter, I couldn''t use another. The second type I used was a combination of moves from the Krav M''ga Style. The mid-air feint, grip and resulting downward punches are all part of the most versatile style I know. Mostly because its a bastardised version of a dozen other styles. Syzslic nods along, seemingly thinking over what I say. While I haven''t given the entire truth, I haven''t really lied either. Nothing bad can come of this, I''m sure. (As a favour to me, can you teach my hunters some of the Krav M''ga style? I can set it up so that the system will reward you too.) I''m immediately eager to teach the hunters. From unrequited hostility to begrudging respect, this might be the next step to burying the hatchet with them. I''m curious what kind of favour I can get from the chief alongside how he can get the system itself to reward me. I will teach them what I can, though I''m far from a master of the style. How will the system reward me though? (Assuming you haven''t led many lessons before, using the training ring as an official instructor can grant you experience and stats. Do you not utilise this in the human cities?) I shrug, playing it off as if it''s not unexpected. Probably. I''ve never taught though. It explains how my teachers could always stay above the rest of the classes. He nods, smiling knowingly. At this point, I''m warmed up and I''ve worked most of the knots out of my joints. It might just be the tightness I can still feel in my bigger muscles, but I''m sure they''re a bit bigger. Such a difference in just two days is unprecedented. There''s a moment of awkward silence as Syzslic watches me admiring my own body. So, is there anything on the itinerary today? (Until you can use your mana again, there is no point in pitting you against anyone. Do what you would like until your body is healed. We will practice infusing your body with mana, and then you should be able to compete with my hunters physically.) It''s a welcome change as far as I can tell nowhere does it seem that I''ll end up too hurt today. I''d like to try and push myself to increase my body by another point before my mana sickness runs out. My body is the only place that is causing me issues. With my high mind and incredible soul stats, I''ll soon be able to hold my own against an army singlehandedly. All I have to do is bump up that stat and get some perks. Ah, before I go for a run, I have a question about your body stat. (Hmmm. I won''t tell you what my stat is; such a thing is private.) That''s fine, I just wanted to know how effectively the old guardians used their perks, especially early on. (Ah, I understand. It is only natural that given the option, you would try to replicate their success. For the most part, every perk we selected would be one that focused on increasing the total health or regeneration. With great magic at our fingertips, base physical strength was never an issue. We would always enhance what we had to a greater degree if needed.) It makes sense... sort of. I understand that as a community, they could focus on magic while the other races focused on strength. But it leaves a massive flaw. Regardless of how great their magic is, as soon as they run out of mana, they would have become little more than bloody punching bags. I think that I''ll have to take a slightly more balanced approach. Enhancements to my health beyond the base stat are less important than fighting potential because of my regeneration. No matter what my total health is, I''ll be able to fully regenerate that in less than six minutes.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. Seems broken... (Haha! In a way, it was. There are a few ways to manipulate the effectiveness of perks depending on intention and combination. Now, I have meditation to get to, and you have to plan how to win over my most stubborn people.) I nod with a smile, my mind preoccupied with the potential of increasing my health through perks. The more I can boost my regeneration, the more staying power I''ll hold in any bout. But increasing my maximum health will make it harder for anyone or anything to instantly kill me. I wonder if I can get to the point where decapitation won''t even work? Deciding to at least see what I''m going to be working with, I open my status and select the plus next to my body stat which has reached an impressive 28. Considering I was only at 2 or three when I first came here, that''s a pretty impressive jump for about a weeks worth.
10 base Body reached. Rank 1 body perks unlocked.
Available perks: (1) Healthy body (Increase maximum health by 5% of base maximum.) Strong body (Increase body stats effectiveness in physical strength by 5%)
25 base Body reached. Rank 1 body perks unlocked.
Available perks: (1) Healthier body (Increase maximum health by 10% of base maximum) Stronger body (Increase body stats effectiveness in physical strength by 10%) Healing body (Increase health regeneration by 7.5%)
Immediately, I want to choose healthy body due to the easily measurable increase, but considering how I''ve already increased my health pool by fourteen times my previous maximum, I decide to go with both strong and stronger body. I don''t feel any sort of immediate increase in strength, but since I''ve only really increased my strength by 15%, it''s as if I got another four or so body stats. Not really enough of an increase to immediately notice. I''ve definitely become far stronger in the past week, but I''ve neglected to test any sort of brute strength or endurance to use as a reference. I shrug away the needless theory. Hopefully, the 15% counts towards the strength of my wings. And hopefully, there are perks that make my body itself tougher. Thinking over possible ways to allow myself flight in the near future, I launch into a rapid pace, quickly leaving the village behind as I follow the cliff edge.
I finally shake off the mana sickness debuff while I''m trying to do pull-ups on a low tree branch on the village outskirts. Sadly enough, I didn''t manage to bully myself into earning another body stat, but the return of my magic is more than enough to send my mood soaring. I relish in the feeling of channelling my mana throughout my body, a process that seems almost as easy as moving my own limbs now. Hanging from the tree in an endurance hold, I close my eyes and focus on my improved mana control. Before I could channel my mana to specific locations by almost carving out a temporary path throughout a mental representation of my body. Casting fast was far easier due to the casting itself doing most of the work. Now, I''m sure I''ll be able to cast any of my spells on or from anywhere on my body. The multiple barriers I suspended over vital parts of my body during training was a technique I could only pull off after practising each location individually for hours. Now though... Now it all seems so easy. The mana no longer acts like it''s flowing through my body as much as spreading through it. With only a little bit of tweaking my technique, I can simultaneously draw mana to a dozen random places in my body without straining my focus. Under Syzslics tutelage, I''m sure I''ll be able to flood my body with mana, hopefully letting me cast my elusive hard spell. No matter how I tried to channel my mana, I couldn''t cast it. Even Syzslic had little to say about it when I mentioned it, making me suspect the spells granted by shapeless magic is something he isn''t certain on. For one thing, I doubt he has the specific perk, and I''m pretty sure he was never explicit about whether it was normal for one of the court guardians to have it. Regardless of his knowledge on the matter, the day is getting on and I have to both receive training in mana infusion and teach the basics of martial art to a group of brutally strong hunters. It''s time to find Syzslic and continue my training.
Just like usual, the village chief is sitting in the darkness of his hut. It amazes me how dark the small building appears to be despite the clear flaws in the woven walls and the harsh sun outside. A type of darkening magic perhaps? Though I''m not sure which school it fits into. (I presume your body has reached balance?) "Huh?" Oh, yeah. The effect ran out a couple of minutes ago. (Have you tried to push your new potential?) Not much. I noticed I could manipulate my own mana easier and in greater volume. (That is a good first step. You will find that you no longer lose health when releasing rogue mana inside you, your spells can be much larger as you can hold a higher concentration of mana in one place when casting. That will be the primary portion of your next phase of training. The rest will consist of a basic lesson in mana infusion. How you use the infusion is up to you.) Standing from his meditative position, he leads me back to the training ring. All the flaws that were beaten into it during the competition have been repaired. With both of us standing near the centre of the ring, Syzslic forms half a dozen spheres of compressed earth from the surface of the ground and they surround me in a ring. (First, I want you to defend against this attack. We will repeat until you can successfully block every projectile. Then I will increase the number of attacks, then the strength. You may use your offensive spell to intercept the earth if you wish.) Oh? Letting me use fast to destroy the spheres of earth is a new twist. I''ll have to only use it from parts of me that I can use to aim, but if I focus my defences on my rear and my offence at the front, I should be able to take some of the strain off my shields. I''m no professional, so I cast barrier on eight spots around my body, protecting the places I think he will aim for. I also charge mana into my palms, getting ready to intercept at least one of the balls of earth in front of me. Ready! With my upper back and spine protected as well as my shoulders and stomach, I''m confident that- -31hp -16hp -40hp Almost faster than I can see, the balls of earth fire towards me, some effortlessly shattering three of my shields. The rest hit me in the back, thigh and chest respectively. The ones against my shields are broken up and lose enough momentum to not be harmful anymore. I still fall to my knees as the pain in my leg and chest cause me to keel over. I manage to gasp out a harsh curse aimed at my teacher before he begins to heal me and lecture me at the same time. +50hp (Do you understand the limits to what you have learnt so far? The fantastic defence of your barrier spell is only useful if you know where someone is aiming. While that is a perfectly viable tactic if they are in front of you, you are vulnerable to attacks you cannot see.) +37hp (You must learn to predict where the attack land, but that is a far off goal. For now, prepare adequate defences.) I stand, taking a deep breath from my all-too-recently bruised chest. Do you mean... I almost ask, but I know what he means. Against someone of far superior ability, I need to focus on my own strengths. Right now, I have almost none, but solid defence and the ability to cast more spells than usual at once. Instead of only casting shields on the weakest parts of my back, I imagine the shape and size of each individual barrier and try to cast them in an interlocking hexagon pattern. Multiple spells cast (9) -90mp My entire back, most of my head and the tops of my legs are covered, resulting in what probably looks like a shimmering blue carapace. My wings are wrapped around my waist, curving up to my chest. Try as I might, I can''t seem to cast spells from my wings. I hoped that having part of my soul infused with my magic would help, but the feathery appendages are proving to be more and more of a nuisance. Seeing that my shields are ready, Syzslic forms more spheres of earth that begin to orbit me again. I raise my hands, watching whichever two projectiles are the most likely to go for my front. I''m sure I''ll still take one or two hits, but I''m already using more spells than I could before, so in terms of improving my spell limits, I see this as an absolute win. Ready. Chapter 22 - A Worthy Student Compared to my first training session with Syzslic, this goes far smoother. Through a short period of constant projectiles being fired at me, Syzslic helps me increase my maximum spell limit from an easy ten to a stressful fifteen. This helps immeasurably because my first attempt at using my fast spell to intercept the projectiles was cut short when I couldn''t cast quickly enough. The two balls of earth that were so helpfully aiming for my hands ended up breaking both of them in several places. Syzslic was surprisingly a little apologetic but was more than happy to throw in a lesson or two while he healed me. We spent just over an hour on that particular technique before stopping for a meal and a break in the shade. I try to start casual conversation with Syzslic several times, the ease of talking mentally while eating something I''ll miss when I eventually leave. Yet he ignores me or gives short answers in favour of sitting and meditating. I want to ask if something is bothering him, but I''m far from the kind of person he should let shoulder his concerns, so I let the matter slide. Or so I want to, but somethings been nagging me from the back of my mind. Something that becomes ever more present as the days pass. I have a feeling he''s got the same issue in mind but doesn''t know how to approach it. Luckily, I can be blunt enough to bare it. We both know you want something from me, Chief. This training. There are a thousand different ways to become stronger, so why push me down this path? What do you want me to do? Syzslic starts throwing off some dangerously aggressive vibes for a moment before visibly deflating and holding his small head in his hand. (You are even sharper than you let on, boy. I am not the first to teach you about magic am I?) I smile softly. I wouldn''t call Declan''s brief lecture much of an education, but using that and some far-flung guesses, I had more than just a feeling I was being groomed for a specific purpose. The first to almost kill me during every lesson. He laughs lightly then looks at me almost sadly. (It is almost easy to forget how little we know about each other. But you are correct. I have been preparing you for a trial I can no longer complete that may spell the survival of my species.) What do you mean? (Though the surface of the kings'' court was wiped clean along with much of the subterranean tunnels, there is a remnant of the court that still remains further below the ground. A place of immense power that will secure us a future. A dungeon.) I desperately scour my memories for the last time I heard that word. I think Michael mentioned them when he described the surface of the planet. He said something about places of power, but not much more. I can tell from context that neither he or Syzslic have my own image of a dungeon in mind. How will the dungeon save the tribe? (The mindless beasts that would usually roam the dungeon were wiped out by the court. The place is a veritable paradise for creatures that can be sustained by magic. And if I can get them there, they will be able to thrive.) You''re making it sound like you won''t make it. (The chances are that I won''t. An incredible amount of magic both in volume and finesse will be required to alter the very core of each and every one of my people. At the cost of my life, I believe I can do it.) The love he must have for his people. It makes me remember each of the moments when I realised that I would die for my own followers. I can relate to his situation, and the last thing I want to do is try and talk him out of his decision. So where do I fall into this equation? (The dungeon was a well-guarded secret of ours. It was a magical construct sustained and maintained by the court guardians. The only way to open the dungeon is through the cooperation of two guardians. It was a failsafe to try and discourage an individual from attempting to seal themselves in.) So once I get the class, I can help you get into the dungeon and then you''ll seal your species in the dungeon, making them monsters of said dungeon. That''s the plan? He huffs, probably irritated at my oversimplification of his masterplan. (Essentially, but there is far more finesse below all that. Primarily, I must prepare you to become a Guardian. Years of training are being compressed into days. But you are capable. I believe that. Now, let''s return to training. You have much to do.) After we eat, it''s just more of the numbers training. I don''t try to make More than fifteen spells at once, but I no longer have to consciously direct each tendril of mana. Now, it''s like splaying a fifteen fingered hand. Every digit moves more or less independently when given a collective command. I''m sure that with a clear mind I''ll be able to do more, but I''m occupied by what Syzslic has told me of my purpose.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. While I''m not sure whether or not I was being manipulated, I''m finding it hard to find out what negatives I might receive from this. Really, I have no reason to refuse following through with this plan. The Skaleans have been... relatively kind to me as a whole, and I feel like I really should repay Syzslic somehow. I''m recovering what is probably an incredibly rare amount of magical knowledge and guidance all to reach the goal of a class so rare that eventually, I''ll be the only holder of it. I''ll become a Guardian of the court, but I need to finish my training first. First, that means improving my body through mana control. Syzslic promises that learning how to use the mana infusion technique is a process far easier and less painful than what I''ve had to do so far. All I need to do is force the mana deeper into the flesh than it usually does. When given the command to practice while he observes, I sit on the ground and meditate. I have to learn how to naturally use the mana in this way from start to finish. This is neither a skill nor a spell, nothing will help me here. I begin by focusing on the large bicep muscle in my right arm. I have a flawless image of the internals of my body in my mind, something cultivated over the centuries through all the times I''ve taken someone apart. Both medically and otherwise. I spread my single tendril of mana into many smaller threads, wrapping the bulk of the muscle. There is no reaction, so I slowly pierce the muscle with the treads, running them parallel with the thick bands of tissue. I still can''t figure out if it''s working, so I slowly flex the muscle, trying to use the mana threads as a crux, consciously flexing without trying to move the arm. I can feel a pull from the muscle itself, and my right forearm raises slightly. I wrote the muscle to relax while keeping a tight hold on the mana and my arm stays rock solid. I push the mana deeper into the muscle, weaving around the bone and running through the tendons that hold it. An intense tingling takes over the area that I''m operating in and the extremities of my arm begin to go numb. I withdraw the mana from my arm as quickly as I dare, still not trusting my mana to be completely harmless. My raised hand slaps down on my leg, perfectly relaxed and I let out a sigh. Mentally, it''s an arduous task, but it''s far easier than training my shields. Nothing hurts, and I''ve already seen a hint of what this power could mean for me. A slow clapping causes me to open my eyes and look over to Syzslic, who is giving me a rather lacklustre round of applause. The ridges of scales above his eyes are raised, making him look both smug yet surprised. (Well well, who would have thought that the student would be so worthy. And why, pray tell, do you have such an understanding of your own body. Such knowledge of Skalean physiology would take a painstakingly long period of time to explain. Yet, you know how you work down to the bone. I''m not expecting an answer, but I must ask. Just who are you, Reuben the merchant?) I sigh, suddenly exasperated at his change of tone. I expected to be working along the curve he''s set but I''ve accidentally catapulted myself ahead. I''ve been well educated, ok? I didn''t always want to be a merchant, and at a time, I studied the human body. Syzslic is silent, considering my answer. It pissed me off how he keeps pushing me to reveal truths I can''t easily explain. It''s all I can do to keep up convincing pies that he may or may not believe. I just wish he would stick with the cool and calm teacher instead of jumping to the arrogant warrior whenever he wants to. Besides, if you didn''t think I would be able to do it, what then? (Well, luckily for us, the muscular structures of our species are not all that different. Bones are moved by tendons which are all powered by muscles. I would have even used the body of an ape to demonstrate it. This specific technique was supposed to have been trained through weeks of theory followed by practice. I''m not sure what exactly to think of you and your knowledge, but I... I need to go and re-evaluate the... my plan. You may practice by yourself for the time being. I will return and assist your demonstrations for my hunters.) Suddenly, he''s gone, his rapidly retreating robes flying up behind him. Honestly, I want to storm after him and scream at him in frustration. Such a being acting in such a confusing manner frustrates me to no end. "What the hell is wrong with him? Pick a personality and stick with it, asshole!" I kick the ground, knocking some loose dirt away with my barefoot. I get that intelligent conversation is something he hasn''t had a lot of and I understand how stressed he might be to save his tribe before he dies, but his reactions are insane! Maybe he is... Just a little bit. To have fallen from a kingdoms guardian to a glorified tribal chief, maybe he has gone mad. I shake my head hard enough to give me a headache. I don''t need to worry about the sanity of my teacher. All I need to do right here, right now is to perfect my mana infusion, figure out what I''m going to teach the hunters, and move onto the next phase of my training. Maybe after he''s cooled down, Syzslic will be back to normal so he can translate for the hunters. I push away any concerns I have for the old snake and imagine my own torso again, slowly winding the mana around my collarbone, spreading down through my ribs. This time, I''ll start from the bones and work outwards.
Without break, I silently let time pass as I repeatedly push smaller and smaller fragments of mana into the depths of my body. I don''t try to test my new limits at all during the exercise, vowing to nail the method before refining the amount of mana I actually use. All too quickly, it gets to the point that I can easily use my mana to operate my arms without any effort on behalf of my body. I thread my way through my torso and legs too, but since I can focus better while sitting, I don''t try to push them using my mana. The last area I focus on is my wings. The challenge proves great, as I''m blind to the internal workings of my wings. Assuming them to be a fusion between mammal and avian limbs, I do my best but fail to advance beyond a very small twitch in the largest muscles. I''m frustrated by my lack of result of course. I had hoped that infusing my wings with enough mana would make them actually usable. I shrug off the annoyance, realising it''s probably not the kind of thing I''ll be able to find a shortcut too. To reach 500 soul, I''d assume that reaching the required body stat to fly would have been achieved long ago. Somewhat irritated at how this world''s system works, I stop trying to infuse my body with mana and do my best to remember everything I was taught as a soldier in the 50''s. The Israelian army had some issues, but I was lucky that their hand-to-hand classes were revolutionary at the time. As the youngest mixed martial art I know, my only experiences with it were my initial training while in Israel, and several months at an intermediates class almost 15 years and two lives later. My lesson will have to be altered slightly because I want to teach the hunters something useful, but if their only enemies are the apes, I have to account for an enemy that is not only smaller in stature but is also unarmed. Of all that the martial art covers, disarming and subduing is the main focus. Since there will be nothing to disarm, I''ll teach them all I can about subduing their opponent as quickly and aggressively as possible. Hopefully, I''m never the target of their efforts, but I can retaliate with magic now if necessary. Chapter 23 - Hand-to-claw combat Syzslic creeps up on me as I''m making wild guesses about the height of an ape and the best ways to strike at their vitals. Thankfully, he seems to be back to his usual self. The calm and calculating exterior is back up, hiding the instability I''m sure lies below. (The hunters will be here shortly. In the meantime, let''s set up the ring.) Syzslic grandly waves his hand over the edge of the ring and a shiver travels down my spine. Some sense of the mana working in the background? (When the prompt appears, select the option closest to what you will be teaching. The options available are based on what you''re sufficiently proficient in by the standards of the gods.) I wait patiently, somehow still irritated by the extremes he keeps jumping between. Somehow he keeps using longer and longer words via telepathic communication so he''s intentionally trying to ramp up the quality of his vocabulary. I clench my fist, allowing no other indication of my emotions. Maybe my opinion of the great chief has shifted significantly today, but I don''t think he''s a bad person. I''ll see this through to the end, but the sooner I can get there, the better.
Permission given to teach in: Basic Training Ring.
Please select your role: (+)11,625
I select the menu extension and just as the screen warned me, the list of professions that appears seems to go on forever. I try to quickly scroll through the alphabetical list, but taking too long would just alert Syzslic and warrant another round of odd mendacious and annoying questions. I think of the word ''Sensei'' and instantly the list scrolls down and sensei appears in the centre of the screen, between Secretary and Sentinal. I''m tempted to see what I could even teach about being a Sentinal, as I''m clueless on what earthen experience qualifies me to teach it. I''m worried that this means I''m qualified for an equally long list of classes, which is a daunting prospect. But I''ll cross that bridge when I get to it. Maybe ill just keep the first court guardian one for a while. Depends on what it gives me. I select Sensei, and the list disappears for an instant before being replaced by a shorter, but equally complicated table.
Teaching role: Sensei
Intended lesson: Mixed Martial Arts
Student Body: Skalean Hunters (7)
Maximum proficiency available: Martial Arts (10)
Maximum rewards available: +1 Body per 5 levels gained by students. (14) +1 mind per student that reaches level 5.
I scan through the information given, confused by most of it. Based on how much I know about martial arts as a whole, I can apparently raise their skill level to a maximum of ten. But I don''t have such a skill. And Michael told me that skills gained outside of classes were incredibly difficult to gain and mostly useless. This screen seems to be telling me that I can fairly easily teach this skill to others. I wonder if this is because the mercenaries don''t know about this way to teach skills. Maybe Michael was just unaware of whether they did this. He was never really educated in part of a classroom. But the simulator at the base certainly would have qualified as a place to teach... something that only the higher-ups would have known about. "Ugh..." All this overthinking the who''s, what''s and why''s of how the system works is giving me a headache. I don''t know shit and everyone I''ve met aside from the snarky snake aren''t telling me shit either. I need a vacation. Maybe I''ll join an arena. Something about mindlessly punching people is really appealing to me right now. I might also have to teach them, but using the hunters as punching bags will have to do. Speaking of, a grunt behind me alerts me that they''ve arrived, each carrying their hunting weapons. Like the first time I saw them, they use mostly well-formed clubs and two wield fairly crude bows too. (Are you ready to start the lesson?) Only if you''re ready to translate. Syzslic blinks away the attitude I throw his way, displaying his not so endless patience. First things first, everyone put your weapons down. This lesson is the last line of defence if you have lost your weapon. Your body must become your weapon. The hunters look approving. They probably weren''t expecting all that much from me, but if there''s one thing I know how to do, it''s inspire. There was a perk I could have selected for my soul I think, something that would have made it easier to make people follow me. Not necessary. The hunters all follow my directions without complaint and I usher them into the ring.
Student Body has arrived. Begin lesson?
I''m not sure why the system has become so present, almost micromanaging what I''m doing. But I mentally accept regardless and each of the hunters focuses on invisible screens of their own. I''m briefly unsure of what their screens would even display, as I''ve seen no evidence of them having any sort of written language. Perhaps the system telepathically tells them the information they want to know in the same way Syzslic talks to me; with the message interpreted by the recipient. Everyone line up in a row. I want to test your strength. The hunters line up in the same order that I duelled each of them. The visibly youngest first, then the two bow users, then the largest four. I stand opposite the first Hunter, Danis. The height difference between us obvious for the first time. The hunters are no taller than the average human, but I''m so damnably short. I mentally sigh and cast barrier on my right hand. Spell cast -10mp Break the shield without using any skills. I need a gauge of your abilities when you have no other option but to use brute force. Danis raises an eyebrow ridge at my magic, but when Syzslic relays the order, he takes a step back and expertly shatters the shield with a straight strike. I move my hand out of the way fast enough to escape any of the remaining force of his punch. I recast barrier, this time pushing more mana into the spell. This will be a good opportunity for me to test my limits too, so I repeatedly cast, making the shield stronger and stronger. Finally, Danis fails to break the barrier charged with 29 points of mana. That''s almost three times stronger than that I could originally cast, and I''m still not sure of my limit. I''m sure I could have overcharged a spell before gaining the Mana Death feat, so that limit was doubled, whatever it was. I follow down the line, testing each of the hunters on their brute strength. Compared to Danis'' limit of a 29 mana shield, each of the bow users fails to break a 20 mana shield. I''m a little clueless as to why they are weaker, but perhaps they''ve just invested their perks in a different direction. I would imagine that having a better mind stat would help when using a bow. The next three hunters are stopped by barriers using 30, 33 and 39 mana respectively, and the final Hunter forces me to charge my barrier as much as I can before he shatters it without too much effort. As expected, the leader of the hunters is incredibly strong. To counter his strength, I cast barrier on each hand, charging each spell as much as I can. Multiple overcharged spells cast (¡Á2) -80mp My spells are getting more and more expensive, but the two glowing hexagons prove too much once I let them combine to form the larger full-body shield. A maximum effort punch from the strongest Skalean makes my arms shudder with the effort of maintaining the shield, but it''s enough to stop him. This exercise was partially to help me get an idea of how best to pair them off, but I also have to show them that my magic is stronger than they are. I pair off the two bow users, then the next two and final two hunters. As he is closest to my own abilities, Danis has the unfortunate role of becoming my opponent. The most important thing about Krav M''ga is the brutality and efficiency with which you take out your opponent. This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it Use their weaknesses against them. Aim for vitals, aim for soft spots. As mammals, the apes will have weak sternums, throats and groins. Aim for a joint or two if you can, and don''t ever forget that there are no rules in a scuffle. Do whatever you need to to make sure you come out on top. I can tell my students are somewhat sceptical, so I try again. You are lucky enough to have natural weapons that I don''t. Unluckily, your opponents have similar advantages. Your teeth and claws are vital weapons. I look over to Syzslic quickly and he raises an eyebrow ridge in an unspoken question. Do you... Are you venomous at all? The edges of his mouth curl up slightly and he opens his mouth widely to display not only his snow-like fangs but also a row of much smaller teeth, some of which are missing. I can see a drop of a scarlet liquid forming on the point of each of his fangs. (Yes, but it is a natural asset that has long since become inert. The ability to kill via venom injection is something that we as a species lost not long after we gained sentience and evolved beyond such hunting tactics.) I nod slowly, unsure if I should be sympathetic at all. Ok, let''s continue. The body of the ape is soft, and as I''m sure you hunters know, has a low defensive capacity. Their advantage is to attack with aggression in large numbers. So how do you deal with such large numbers? I gesture to the class for their suggestions. One of the bow users hisses something out loud, and I wait patiently for Syzslic to translate. (She says, we should pick them off from a distance.) I sigh internally. The hunters are not as smart as I had hoped. But that''s ok. I just have to spoon-feed them the right state of mind. You could do that, but you''ve lost your bow and arrows. What do you do? There''s a pause as she thinks of the answer. (She suggests that you break off sharp tree branches and use them as projectiles.) Honestly, I didn''t expect that much from her. I''m somewhat impressed. Not a bad idea. But now, you''re surrounded with no trees close by. What do you do? The female Hunter looks down, her brow furrowed. Another one speaks up. One of the strongest this time. (He asks if you should aim for the head, using long sweeps to take out eyes.) A very good answer. In smaller groups of maybe ten or so enemies, disorienting some of them will provide you with a window to escape. I pause, realising the intention behind my lesson has changed dramatically. I don''t need to teach them martial techniques. They have the strength and techniques of well-practised hunters to keep them alive. I need to teach them how to improvise. How to battle. Whatever Syzslic wants their combat prowess to increase for, I don''t think they need to learn how to fight. They need to learn how to win.
Teaching role: Tactician
Intended lesson: The Art of War.
Student Body: Skalean Hunters (7)
Maximum proficiency available: Strategize (15)
Maximum rewards available: ? +1 mind per 5 levels gained by students. ? +3 mind per student that reaches each level 5 increment.
The system accommodates the change perfectly. Syzslic helps me change the very nature of the lesson according to the system with only a little encouragement. It''s obvious to me that he''s no warrior and certainly not a leader capable of warfaring. He doesn''t want to make it obvious, but he has no idea what''s best for his hunters to become stronger. They don''t need improvements to their already impressive physical power. As the immortal phrase "brains over brawn" suggests, they need to know how to fight smart and fight hard. With some gentle prodding to the creature that has absolute control over the arena, Syzslic forms a thick vertical wall that I use as a makeshift blackboard. Using carefully explained diagrams of various symbols, I push each of the hunters through the first few levels of Strategize. I receive a notification each time any of them either gained the skill or a level and by the end of my several hour-long lesson, I''ve gained 2 points in mind from 14 total skill levels gained by the hunters as a whole. Most reach level two, but one of the archers only gains a single level. Rising ahead of the class though, and surprising me is Danis with three levels that were gained faster than the others. He seems to have a real knack for the memorization of formations. Tired of mentally conversing for hours on end, and exhausted from demonstrating every detail from every tactic I tried to teach, I end the lesson and wholeheartedly congratulate the group. It''s refreshing to do something like this when such a lesson on modern earth would be laughed at. Nobody takes tactical melee warfare seriously there anymore. Its a world of guns and has been for the last few hundred years. That''s not to say that I don''t miss the fantastical weapons, as I wish I had my hands on them earlier. Soon, I hope to bring a similar weapon to my own hands in a place where I wouldn''t have to license it. The fond thought for the future leaves me puzzled over my more pressing present. I''m certain that whatever plan Syzslic has is to be executed in roughly a week. Possibly sooner now that I don''t have to learn the biology behind body infusion from scratch. Whatever time I have over the next few days is probably going to be filled with more of the harsh magic lessons that push me close to breaking point, and lessons from me for the hunters. I''m certain I know which one I''m looking forward to the most. The hunters leave the village quickly, likely to go on the nightly hunt. I hope they use some of what they''ve learnt today. Though I''ve no idea how exactly they hunt the apes we eat. Maybe the tactics I''m teaching them will be useless, but the skill they''ve got alongside it might be more useful. (I''m impressed by your knowledge of the arts of war. Almost as if you''ve been to war multiple times before.) I don''t have the mental endurance left to deal with another round of suspicions and subterfuge, so I end this where it starts. The lessons over, so I''m going to bed. I''ll do another lesson at the same time tomorrow. And don''t worry, I''ll keep up with my infusion practice. Before he can reply, I quickly pace away from the arena, another screen appearing which I read as I return to my hut.
Lesson complete.
Levels gained:14
Stats earnt: 2
Overall student satisfaction: Medium
Huh? I''m surprised by the system admitting information as personal as the satisfaction of the students. Everything I''ve seen from it so far has been purely numerical and calculating. It''s such a pain in the ass trying to learn about something that everyone knows about already. It''s like everyone is in on a secret except me. "A secret as big as a world. You must not be searching for it hard enough." I stop dead in my tracks. That light tinkling voice seems to have come from the back of my mind, but I''m certain I heard it. I look around, not recognising my immediate surroundings. I''m in the deep forest, somewhere I haven''t been yet. There''s no light apart from the rapidly sinking sun, and as the shadows creep higher than should be possible, I know that somehow in the few seconds that it should have taken to get to my hut, I''ve ended up somewhere else. "The woods are deep and darker still. Where have you ended up? What will become of you?" Another voice, similar yo the first, but somehow slightly different. Behind me! I spin and immediately step back in shock. Three young humans are standing there, naked. Each emitting a harsh white glow strong enough to hide most features. I can barely make out their eyes and mouths. The two in front smile mischievously at me, while the third behind them stares, impassive. Despite the setting, I immediately try to take control, baffled by how they are here. "A-are you all ok? What even are- How did you get here?" The grins of the front two fade, only to be immediately replaced by equally sly smiles. They speak in unison, their voices beautiful yet chilling. "Concern yourself not with our wellbeing when you are in much greater danger. The signs may not be piling up just yet, but before long, a threat will come to this world. A threat that may challenge even you, immortal." Chapter 24 - The Triplets A deep fear rushes over me at the declaration of the two. They know who I am. What I am. I step back slowly, willing my body to move faster, to run from a situation I''m not ready for. The glow from the three reduces significantly until I can see the youths in greater detail. All three seem to be adolescent girls, each showing the early signs of puberty. The glow subsides further and it''s revealed that even though they appear as young women, none of them are human. From the neck up, they seem perfectly normal, but none of them has the usual defining characteristics of humanity. Their small breasts are smooth, as are their stomachs. None have genitals either, shamelessly showing a smooth crotch. They remind me of dolls briefly. Each has a pretty face, but I''m too scared to admire them at all. Something is stopping me from running, and I know it''s more than just fear. My body is incapable of motion from the neck down. Even the shaking of my breath is gone, my breathing mechanically steady. I can make out the details of their faces now, but that does nothing more than confuse me further. Each has different coloured hair, but all of them have it styled more or less the same way. Long hair that falls past their waists, but a fringe that hangs low enough to reach almost their mouths. The one to my left has red, almost pink hair that fades to white at its full length. She has a thin clip made of darkness that holds her hair out of her right eye, letting the rest of her face remain covered. Her hair matches her eye, which is a striking scarlet. The girl to my right appears identical in appearance aside from a key few colour changes. Her hair is a light blue that also fades to white, and she has the same black clip holding hair from her left eye instead of her right. The eye I can see is as striking as her twins, but sapphire blue instead. The third, expressionless one, hidden behind the others has bright blonde hair that has no clip to hold it back, but instead, her hair has naturally curved away from her eyes. Curtains of bright yellow that show off a pair of striking golden irises. She blinks, the first sign of motion I''ve seen from her, and my body relaxes instantly. I can move my legs again, but something is telling me it would be worse to run. All I can do is wait and wonder what the hell is going on. The blonde girl opens her mouth, but after a pause of silence, she closes it again, a slightly frustrated expression on her face. The red-haired girl breaks the symmetry with the blue-haired one and sighs dramatically. "I apologise for my elder sister. She has yet to master the art of breathing, and as such, can''t speak." I open and close my mouth several times, so baffled I''m worried I''m going to pass out from the stress. I manage to stutter out a few words, speaking almost without thinking. "H-how? How did you... Do you know wh-what I am?" The blue-haired girl giggles, a sound I can appreciate as beautifully sweet despite the setting. "We''ve been watching you since you washed up in our territory. Why your god would have forced you out is beyond us-" "- but we are most pleased to have received you. And you are lucky to have found your way to us." The red-haired girl finishes the other''s sentence, reinforcing their proclamation of being sisters. My mind is filled with questions, but my brain feels like it''s pushing together a puzzle. A very simple puzzle that doesn''t seem to want to fit together. The golden-haired girl steps forwards, pushing the others out of the way. Two quizzical expressions follow her as she slowly walks towards me. Her motions are careful but obviously not smooth. She doesn''t appear to be in full control of her body. Only a step away from me, she ushers me lower. Against my better judgement, I fall to one knee, my own head now just lower than her own. She leans in until her lips are right next to my ear. I can hear a quiet inhale, and a pause as she seems to consider her actions. "Thank... you..." My body stiffens, such a phrase something I didn''t expect. I nod slightly and she stands straight again, a small smile on her face. The red-haired girl steps forward and puts her hand on the blonde''s shoulder. "That''s all we came here to say, immortal. You may cause a great threat to discover us, but for now, we are glad you are here." The blue-haired girl appears with her hand on the other shoulder. "We hope to see much more of you very soon, but for now, let us leave you with this." Both the blue and red-haired girls lean in and each kisses me lightly on a cheek. My mana reaches out to the point on my right cheek and my muscles burn, a sensation radiating from my left cheek. My eyes shut tightly at the combined sensations, but information still pours into my mind.
Greater blessings of Meli and Alo received.
+30 mind +30 body
The final piece of the puzzle clicks and I open my eyes, finally realising the identity of the triplets, a fact that should have been obvious from the beginning. Senca, Mali and Alo. The gods. I want to ask them every question under the sun, but they''re gone. And I''m in my hut, still kneeling. The spots where they kissed me still tingling. My heart is still pumping like crazy from the whole encounter. From a scene straight out of some horror film to a bizarre first-hand religious experience. I collapse onto my furs, exhausted from the busy day that''s been topped off in a way that could only happen to me. As soon as I can relax, the questions I wanted to ask still filling my mind, I drift into a troubled slumber. Images of the gods imprinted on my conscience seem to linger long after I''ve fallen asleep.
I wake with a start, my heart racing like crazy. The echoes of a headache remain in my head, reminding me of a dream of glowing triplets... No... I open my status, and as clear as day, my sudden stat gains are there. 30 in both body and mind given for... Whatever reason.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
Name: Reuben(The Cause)
Hp: 580/580 (6.14%) Species: Human (Immortal)
Mp: 2280/2280 (6.14%) Level: 12 (11%) (+)
Class: (none)
Body: 58 (+) Mind: 190 Soul: 614
Perks: -Body: ? [1] Strong body ? [2] Stronger body -Mana: ? [1] Big spells ? [2] Bigger spells ? [3] Soulful spells ? [3] Mana manipulation ? [4] Shapeless Magic ? [4] Hard Mind -Soul: ? [1] Moulded Soul ? [2] Hunter Soul ? [3] Neutral Soul ? [4] Soul of Magic ? [5] Strong Soul ? [5] Monstrous Soul ? [6] Hidden Soul ? [7] Powerful Soul ? [7] Surviving Soul ? [8] Alien Soul ? [9] Soul of the Fool ? [10] Wings
Skills: (none)
Spells: ? Hard ? Fast ? Barrier
Influence: ? Greater blessing of Meli ? Greater blessing of Alo
Not only have my stats jumped, but there''s the new list of influence. I have no idea what it means. Just another thing to add to the list of things to ask about without letting people know that I don''t know. An irritatingly difficult problem, but one for later. My status seems so unbalanced now that I look at it. With no skills and an abundance of perks that I can''t use properly. Scanning through the higher-end perks from my soul, I can''t really remember if any of them have shown whether they work. I''ve killed... a handful of monsters since receiving monstrous soul, and I haven''t absorbed any of them. Alien soul is supposed to make people less curious about my past, but the first creature to take an interest won''t stop asking. I can''t learn skills despite having all the knowledge I should need. I can''t read the stupid language... From my position on the floor, everything seems so far from reach. My body and mind are weary, something about my encounter last night prohibiting any recovery. I sigh heavily. "Senca, what am I doing here?" Half expecting a reply, I pause and stare at the dome-like ceiling of my hut. The sound of the village waking up in the background draws me from my wallowing and I begin a basic set of stretches following a tune I silently recite. The calisthenic routine is something I''ve memorized and will readily execute whenever I feel like crap in the morning. It''s never failed to pick me up just enough to face the day. And although I still feel worn out, I''m slightly more optimistic. I go to leave my hut, but as I put my hand on the canvas covering the entrance, I hesitate. Suddenly I feel a presence behind me and a slight pressure on my back. I glance backwards, but there''s no one behind me. Oddly, I can''t feel any danger despite the heavy presence. The pressure increases and I''m pushed out of the hut, stumbling under the low doorway and barely finding my feet a few steps away. Staring in shock at the interior of the hut as the flap is falling back down, I can see the slight outline of a pale golden-haired girl. I smile slightly when the dots connect. Just as her sisters mentioned, Senca must not be strong enough to be able to easily contact me. I have no idea how easy it is for a god to influence the world directly, but I appreciate whatever effort my goddess has gone through for me. I can''t hesitate any more. I''m sure I''ll be able to talk to them again, and based on their gifts, they want me to get stronger. As soon as I help Syzslic with his complicated task, I can switch my focus from magical growth to a more physical calling. As I pick up a larger than normal breakfast from the village, I fantasize about the arena I suggested to myself just a day prior. With even a small amount of finesse in mana infusion, I could face off against far stronger opponents, I''m sure. And winning in the arena would probably help me build up my body stat faster. Building some money and renown wouldn''t hurt either. I sit and lean against a tree that will hide me from the rays of the rising Sun. I should have some time before Syzslic comes to continue my magic training with his next spell, so I relax and repeat the motions of infusing my mana throughout my body. Before I work on mastering output and function, I need to be able to infuse myself as quickly as possible. The slight boost to my mind stat from Meli seems to have some slightly more tantalising side-effects as the process seems easier than ever. Before long, I''ll have to shift to infusion practice during higher stress situations to progress at all. The shadow of a smile flashes across my otherwise motionless face. My former fatigue is all but forgotten by the mana coursing through me. My near future promises to be interesting. Chapter 25 - Montage Syzslic refuses to tell me what counts as "being ready for the guardian class", so before I know it, almost two weeks have passed and I''m still classless. My classes on the art of War were progressing fantastically and by the end of the first week, all but their leader had reached the maximum level I could grant them. According to Syzslic, that''s the highest they''re likely to reach. Once they become dungeon creatures, their ability to level up is dependant on the dungeons strength as opposed to their merit. Because of this, he is insistent that the skills that can ensure their survival are levelled as high as possible. I was sure it was only helping them, but one of the hunters died last week. The fourth in the group was torn apart by the carnivorous apes while on a hunt. Apparently, they were attempting a complicated variation of a scissor manoeuvre that we had developed in my class. Something went wrong and one of the female bow users was taken unawares. The male Hunter, her mate, abandoned the formation and tore the assailants away. He threw her back into the safety of the group, letting himself remain as a distraction so the others could retreat with both their haul and the injured. As the leader of the hunters explained the situation to Syzslic in the early hours of the morning when they returned to the village, I could see drops of scarlet venom forming at the corners of his clamped shut jaw. And so, on my... 19... 20th? morning, I can''t help but be just a little bit unsatisfied with the progress I''ve made. Not that it''s no small amount of progress either. Syzslic is a harsh teacher, and since the Hunter died, my lessons have been longer and more intense. I''ve made leaps and bounds in magic power. Both my mind and body stat have increased nicely, and even a few bouts in the arena have helped me level a few times. It''s just, with no concrete objective, I''m anxious and altogether antsy. I silently groan in frustration and roll over a few times, wrapping myself up in as many furs as possible. I miss humans, just to be able to have an open vocal conversation would be nice. And it''s been weeks since I''ve had sex. I planned to sleep with Michael on the night the base was invaded, but I just had to get blocked by a false invasion and get us both murdered. The fact that the female skaleans have the smooth curves they don''t really cover up is frustrating to no end. Senca knows I''ve thought about it, but without any solid communication abilities, I don''t see that being an avenue to pursue. Besides, based on Michaels vague comment about pure humans being rare, I''m sure an accidental hybrid offspring wouldn''t be too far out of the question. I grin at the ceiling of my hut. It''s unlike me to let my desires get the better of me. Sure, I desire the pleasure greater than what I can achieve on my own, but I also want to help the skaleans. They''re surviving as best they can, and I''m sure I would feel at least slightly guilty if I didn''t help a species prevent their own extinction. I wriggle out of the furs and distract myself by looking through my status. It''s a habit that Syzslic has suggested I start doing as soon as I wake up. It''s supposed to help me focus on the progress I can make throughout the day.
You have 4 unallocated stat points:
Body (+) Mind (+) Soul (+)
I dismiss the popup, not sure if I want to put my free stats into any of the three. I''m perfectly fine taking a more patient route now and building up my body and mind using easier methods.
Name: Reuben(The Cause)
Hp: 670/670 (6.14%) Species: Human (Immortal)
Mp: 2340/2340 (6.14%) Level: 15 (8%) (+)
Class: (none)
Body: 67 (+) Mind: 195 Soul: 614
Perks: -Body: ? [1] Strong body ? [2] Stronger body ? [3]Reinforced body -Mana: ? [1] Big spells ? [2] Bigger spells ? [3] Soulful spells ? [3] Mana manipulation ? [4] Shapeless Magic ? [4] Hard Mind -Soul: ? [1] Moulded Soul ? [2] Hunter Soul ? [3] Neutral Soul ? [4] Soul of Magic ? [5] Strong Soul ? [5] Monstrous Soul ? [6] Hidden Soul ? [7] Powerful Soul ? [7] Surviving Soul ? [8] Alien Soul ? [9] Soul of the Fool ? [10] Wings
Skills: (none)
Spells: ? Hard ? Fast ? Barrier ? Restore ? Return ? Pierce
Influence: ? Greater blessing of Meli ? Greater blessing of Alo
Nine points in body, and five in mind. It''s almost enough to trigger the fifth tier of mind perks. Since I''ve achieved the mana death feat and can infuse myself with mana, I hope I''ll have a rare unlocked perk to choose. Speaking of perks, I picked my third tier body perk without hesitation. The two options I was given were called reinforced body and fortified body. The first would strengthen my bones and muscles, and the second would make my skin significantly harder to damage. Of course, I chose to get reinforced body, something I expected to be a crucial step in sustained flight. Unfortunately, while that meant my wings no longer broke as soon as I tried flight, the relatively thin limbs aren''t enough to lift me. It really will just be a matter of building my body stat high enough or getting another beneficial perk that increases the strength I get from each point. While mana infusion should certainly help in that field, my wings are still stubbornly refusing to accept the infusion to any useful degree. While it certainly makes my physical combat potential explode, it''s a dead-end for flight for the foreseeable future. Syzslic even mentioned the possibility of using magic to assist my flight. But when I pushed him for details, he explained that he didn''t know any non-elemental magic that would help and he couldn''t teach me any elemental magic if he didn''t know what my specific affinities were. This, of course, spurred a whole new line of questioning about elemental magic. Syzslic brushed me off, promising that he would explain it today. Which is why I''m more than a little bit fidgety. What I know about elements is probably a far-flung concept for this world, and the only other use of the word is an old idea by someone I used to work with. In Persia, my partner Zarathustra preached the sacred nature of the four elements: Fire, water, earth and air. Later, many cultures drew a fifth element. Aether in Greece, Akasha in India, Quintessence in Europe. Though all of them claimed it''s existence, none knew what it was. In the last few years I was on earth, I heard of the efforts that many astronomers were making all over the world to discovering dark matter. Though I never understood it beyond the concept, I believe that the ideas of aether and dark matter are one and the same. People have always known there was something beyond the physical world. But labelling them elements is a misnomer. The periodic table is the pinnacle of hundreds of years of work that I even took on at the beginning of the 1800s before the work was taken over by a young associate of mine, Demitri. The bastard killed me and stole my notes. I later found out he had completed my work and is historically recognised. I shake my head before I let myself fall into one of the most complicated periods of my life. I snicker at my subtle pun and ease myself out of the hut, searching for something to eat. I stand idly around where a thin soup is being distributed. The amount of food the hunters have been bringing back is far less than before. Losing even one Hunter against such vicious foes is a hard hit to the tribe. As such, the basic farming techniques they utilise are being pushed harder to compensate. Black roots and the odd birds egg find their way into the meals that have become significantly less satisfying. I''ve asked several times to be allowed to join the hunting party, but Syzslic has stubbornly refused. With the ever-present language barrier, there''s no way for us to communicate efficiently at night, and there''s no way I would survive hunting on my own. One horde of the apes will be able to overwhelm me and even with my considerably large mana pool, it would only be a matter of time until they tore down my shields and ripped me limb from limb. I sit on the ground to eat, far away from where the rest of the skaleans dine as a community. Almost three weeks and most of the non-combatants are still wary of me. I would be too in their situation, but that doesn''t make it easier to swallow. But I am stoic in my individuality. It wouldn''t make a huge difference to eat with the rest of them, and I''m not here to make friends, just... save all their lives. I can''t let myself get caught up on every little thing. In the grand scheme of things, this is equivalent to just a minor quest. I''m trying not to worry too much about the goddesses warning of some insane threat, but it still hangs heavy in the back of my mind. Improving and learning so I can overcome that trial is my only real goal. A slight whistling draws my attention, and I immediately throw up my hands, discarding my empty bowl. "Barrier!" Spell cast (x2) -40mp The familiar spell instantly forms up between my hands and the blue shield appears just in time for a wooden spear to shatter against the surface. I know this won''t be the last, so I begin to channel additional mana into my hands and forearms. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. I catch sight of the next projectile, so I release the barrier in my right hand and cast one of newer spells. "Return." Spell cast. -60mp Just before the spear pierces through my open hand, a thin white ring appears on the skin of my palm. The spear rebounds in the direction it came from, with as much speed and accuracy as before. It shatters against nothing, but a thick ripple in space expands around it. A mirage barrier. My first thought is to obliterate the barrier with all the offensive power at my disposal, but I''ve been tricked by these before. The mirage barriers can be prepared and placed beforehand, lasting several minutes away from Syzslics contact. Instead, I release my barrier and raise my right fist into the air, holding my left to my chest. "Hard." Spell cast -500mp The mysterious spell I was given at first was a tough shell to crack. It is indeed a defensive spell, but not one the coats my body, or projects itself around me. The spell is what Syzslic has called a buff. It starts from my heart and works outwards, subtly restructuring every part of me to be harder to break. It only lasts for around four minutes, requires time and focus to cast, and the initial mana cost is ridiculous, but it is remarkably powerful in return. Now that my defence is sorted, I need to find my threat. In my raised fist, I channel a large amount of mana, almost as much as I spent on hard, enough for my fist to glow white. "Pierce." Spells cast (x20) -400mp A starburst of diamond-shaped projectiles fly from my hand, spreading in as many directions as I could manage. Many of them reach the maximum range of the spell and dissipate into fading notes of light, but some of them hit more of the mirage barriers, piercing through them and shattering the illusion. I spin, trying to find my target, and only another rapidly forming mirage gives away my assailant. I run towards where I saw a hint of scales, sweeping to the right to get around the shield. I charge both my fists and legs with mana, picking up speed as my mana infusion kicks in, and ready to try and physically break through the defences presented to me. Seeing how I''m trying to flank his strongest defended, Syzslic shatters his own mirage barrier and instead drops his claws to the ground, raising half a dozen walls of earth that completely block my visibility. But not my momentum. I leap forwards and punch into the first wall, my speed pushing me through the dense earth. I quickly scan my surroundings as I roll back onto my feet, wary of a counterattack. But instead of an offensive retaliation, more earth walls have sprung up, and more are springing up. All too quickly, I''m stuck in a labyrinth. I slow to a walk and push more mana into my legs. I crouch, unfurling my wings and then I jump high into the air. My thighs scream with the exertion, but I reach an impressive height of several meters above the walls. High enough that I can see Syzslic raising more and more walls, extending his maze. I don''t have time to cast any spells while in the air, and I can''t replicate any semblance of flight, so jumps like this are usually only for observation. The completely cuboidal walls that have been raised give me an idea though. I use my wings to guide me towards slightly as I fall, and I land heavily on the top of the nearest wall. I jump a few times to keep my balance, and quickly accelerate to catch up with the surprisingly spry snake. All too quickly, he noticed my approach and raises both of his hands, claws slightly bent and aiming towards me. I throw up both my hands too and charge them both with an excess of mana. I also channel mana into the space between my wings, somewhere Syzslic has directed many of his blunt force attacks. "Barrier." Multiple spells cast (x3) -60mp The blue shields spring up in front of me, and an almost immediate impact on my back tells me that my gamble was worth it. A slight spray of dirt over my shoulders tells me it was a simply compressed dirtball. Luckily my regular barrier is enough to stop a few of those, so my overcharged barrier has no problem stopping one. Assuming I would fall victim to the distraction, Syzslics eyes widen slightly and he moves to evade instead of defending against whatever I''m about to throw at him. With my opponent caught off guard, I push off the wall and dispel the barriers on my hands in favour of charging up a fist full of mana. My descent isn''t as fast or graceful as I want, and by the time I''ve landed and stumbled back to my feet, I''ve lost sight of Syzslic. "Shiiiiiiiitt." I run in the direction I saw him go, the sound of constantly rising earth walls stopping me from hearing his movement. Going by visual hints alone, I sprint through the twists and turns that are being thrown at me. Throwing my wings in one direction then the other like a feline uses its tail, I can adjust my momentum subtly to help me turn faster. Honestly, the most useful thing they''ve done for me so far. After only a few seconds of my adrenaline-filled chase, I catch a glimpse of the corner of a browned cloak rounding a corner. I catch up, already charging a dozen casts of fast in my hands. But once I see Syzslic, I''m stunned briefly at the sight of his node of transportation. He''s using a thin board of polished stone to skate across the earth much like a skateboarder. Seeing such an ancient being effortlessly slide over the ground and grind off an improvised rail to retreat around the next corner is almost enough to ground me. I shake off the hesitation and flap my wings, pushing a few small speed boosts from wherever I can. Instead of going the long way though, I aim at the wall Syzslic just went past and fire off all the spells I have charged in my left hand, one after the other. The weakened wall isn''t enough to halt my mana infused foot, and I smash through just in time to catch a glimpse of the snake leaving the scene again, jumping over a fallen branch in a flawless stunt. "Shit!" I don''t know where this earth-board mastery has come from, but it''s a bitch to catch up to. The worst part is that Syzslic is merely retreating, and isn''t attacking me. He''s... He''s wearing me out. I''m charging in like a blind bull. I need to play this smarter. I stop my run at a skid and listen as much as I can for signs of his movement. The rumble of rising and shifting earth surrounds me, walls still extending the maze seemingly at random. I suspect that he can tell where I am, using some sort of earth magic. I can''t spend forever trying to figure out how to counter him. As soon as he runs low on mana, he''ll probably seal the maze and start hunting me. I''m just... trapped. But I''m not too weak to break out. I need more space. Saving my mana, I start to punch and kick out at the walls nearest to me, causing some to crumble and fall. I extend my own area of rubble, making a small area where I hope his earth-board won''t be as smooth. Quickly, the rumbling of walls stops and all I can hear outside of my rapid breathing is a somewhat subdued grinding of earth sliding over earth. He knows what I''m doing. I kick over one last wall and stand in the centre of the pile, focusing on the source of the sound. The location will be an estimate at best. The long winding and splitting corridors that surround me warp the sound. Suddenly, the harsh sun is blotted out for a second, and Syzslic is there, crouched on top of his earth wall, holding a huge hammer-headed polearm made from polished stone. "Patience has paid off for you this time. You knew you were my target and you knew you could lure me in. Your ability to strategize is to falling even my own. The area of disruption is a very nice touch. But is your body enough yet?" With that, he straightens on the wall and spins the polearm expertly. For someone who was supposed to have been a mage, his weapons expertise is impressive. He raises the weapon above his head and leaps from the wall, aiming to slam the hammer down where I''m standing. "Barrier!" Spells cast (x2) -40mp As the only spell I have to counter a physical attack, I cast barrier on both my palms and hold them both out towards the impending slam. I also begin to channel mana into my chest, collecting enough mana for an overcharged spell. The hammer slams against the barrier, cracking it almost instantly. I hurriedly try to push more mana into the construct, but it''s too late. The hammer passes through my shield and crushes both of my outstretched forearms. -105hp My teeth grind as I try not to scream, and focus only on positioning my chest directly at my assailant. With his heavy hammer strike, he''s left himself incredibly open to a counter-attack while his hammer continues its downward arc in front of me. "Fast!" Overcharged spell cast -50mp Instantly, there''s a blue flash from my chest, and I see Syzslics eyes open widely for an instant before the charged spell explodes against his all-too-hastily formed barrier. The explosion still throws him back and he hits a far wall with a sickening thud. My arms are shattered, useless below the elbow. My hard spell being the only thing that stopped him from breaking them clean off. I push mana towards the wounds, imagining the mana sealing the faults in the bone and realigning everything. "Recover." Multiple spells cast (x2) -200mp Immediately, a soft blue glow ignites below the skin of my arms and my arms straighten out piece by piece. Luckily, the process of healing isn''t painful at all, and all I can feel is a comforting warmth as soon as the recovery begins. +40hp True to his word, Syzslic taught me a healing spell as soon as he thought my control of mana was great enough to pull it off. Unfortunately, though, the rather simple spell he taught me was hijacked my shapeless magic and became recover. The spell is only really good for curing stays effects, both visible and invisible. As it turns out, any broken bone is a status effect because it slows the natural healing process. It''s just hidden because of the frequency of such an occurrence. So while this spell rapidly heals broken bones and other stuff like bleeding effects or burns or such, it doesn''t exactly close wounds and recover health. I don''t see that being a massive issue though, as my natural health regeneration is staggeringly high. High enough that I don''t want to tell Syzslic the exact number. Speaking of the old snake, he''s rapidly recovering and is standing unsteadily while clutching his back. I channel mana into my fists again, ready to cast another spell or fight hand-to-claw. But I pause my advance when Syzslic starts his wheezing laugh and smiles at me. I stop, unsure of how to proceed. Every time we''ve fought in the last few weeks, I''ve ended up tapping out due to his overwhelming power. Today though, he''s acted far more tactically and in a way, he''s been countered. Have I won? (Hehe... congratulations my student. You''ve passed the final test. To the best of your ability in such a short amount of time, I believe you are ready. It''s time you received a class.)