《Surviving The Myriad Worlds (15 Chapters Up)》 Prologue - A Voice Unheard in The Dark When facing death, one must take care that their body does not betray them. Before an overwhelming threat, the body can freeze, weapons can slip from sweat-soaked palms, and uneven breathing can cause focus to slacken. To become truly strong, mastery of the body must be achieved. Alvan was long past worrying about such things. As he slinked through the night, his focus remained crystal clear and his heart even. When he placed one hand on a crude column and peered around a corner, he left no residue as his body had long adapted past the need to sweat or leave scents. When he spotted a patrol, there was no point in holding his breath as he activated [The Space Inbetween] and no longer existed in the same reality. The labyrinthine walls of the great hall that he had been prowling turned from raw stone to glossy obsidian. The towering ceiling many spans above grew taller yet and became lost in absolute blackness. The light lent by all the braziers retreated and became pinpricks of light in an all-consuming night. It would have been impossible to navigate had it not been for [Shadow Sympathy], which gave him an intuitive sense of what lay in the dark. No matter how many times Alvan ventured here, it always unnerved him on a primal level. There was constantly an omnipresent sensation of being watched and the feeling was never friendly. Alvan never lingered here as many past holders of [The Space Inbetween] who overstayed their welcome never left. In this place, the imposing bodies of the Ahsmati patrol turned insubstantial, mere wraiths of their former selves. Alvan was confident that he could take out the entire patrol, but whether he could do so before they raised the alarm was another question altogether. It was better to risk leaving them alone. He triggered [Shadow Teleportation] and slipped into a nearby shadow, appearing behind the patrol. This put it on cooldown for a few seconds ¡ª a veritable eternity at his rank. The only reason he risked it was that he was very close to the exit ¡ª and because the whispers had started. He ignored them, turning the corner and sighted the exit. A pair of intricately engraved doors lay before him, large enough that several wagons could pass through abroad. He nearly dropped [The Space Inbetween] when an enemy turned into view. It was often hard to read the expression of an Ahsmati as their reptilian visage made it difficult in the best of times. This was not even counting the fact it appeared as a shadowy apparition here, but even he could interpret the bulging eyes and gaping maw as a sign he had been seen. Already the creature was recovering and was preparing to shout. It must be high leveled and have high [Alacrity] or an [Ability] to keep up with him. Alvan would have liked to leave the enemy''s base without leaving a trace, but this looked to no longer be possible. Alvan drew his L¨­vuh from its modified scroll case and unfurled its wide ribbon-like length in one smooth flick, letting it droop to the floor. He used [Animate Weapon] and then whipped it forward. The L¨­vuh extended to its full length, about a dozen paces, and reached towards the Ahsmati''s throat. The enemy drew a sword and attempted to block the L¨­vuh, but the insubstantial length phased through the blade to plunge into the creature''s neck. As soon as Alvan saw the tip exit the nape of its neck, he exited [The Space Inbetween]. The Ahsmati froze and clutched at its neck with a faint gurgle. Then it collapsed like a rock with the upper half of the sword, some fingers, and the head severed. Alvan darted forward and grabbed the corpse with one hand, grunting as he bore a weight many times his own. With the other hand, he caught the fingers and head in rapid succession then he kicked forward to catch the severed blade with the flat of his foot. Balancing on his one remaining leg, he gently lowered them to the ground. He strained his senses for any sign of alarm from the patrol he had just passed but was relieved when their footsteps continued without interruption. It was now only a matter of time before someone found this. It was time to be off. Alvan braced himself to use [The Space Inbetween] again. Usually, Avlan wouldn¡¯t dare to use it in such quick succession. However, he was in the middle of enemy territory and about to cross into the heart of their camp. The tidings he brought were critical enough to risk it. The shadowlands returned and Alvan darted through the gate to the outside. He found himself in the middle of a simple plaza surrounded by simple cloth yurts. From their openings came the sounds of the Verunian tongue, punctuated by growls and yips. In the far distance loomed a massive earthen wall crested by enormous stones that formed a crude imitation of a parapet and crenels. Massive shapes in the distance, far dwarfing even the largest yurts, patrolled the walls. It was those that he needed to avoid above all. It was dangerous to linger here, so he used [The Space Inbetween] again and sprinted. He made it to the space between two yurts before it was too much and canceled the [Ability]. The whispers had grown loud enough that he had begun to understand them. The knowledge that he had learned, he would have rather not known such things. Alvan wasn¡¯t willing to risk retreating into that space for a good long while so he relied on his mundane stealth skills to begin making his way over to the wall. Amongst these lower-level grunts, it was more than enough. He had nearly made it to the wall when an earth-shattering roar that prickled every single one of his hairs sounded. The entire camp fell silent for an instant before it was answered in kind by a thousand, thousand voices. I''ve been made. Throwing caution to the wind, he sprinted to the wall in a fraction of a second and readied himself. He hated doing this but he saw no other option. Hopefully, enough time had passed. He activated [The Space Inbetween] and placed one hand against the earth of the wall. A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. It resisted him for an instant, then it was as if his fingers had broken a membrane and his arm sunk into the earth. It was quickly followed by his shoulder and the rest of his body soon after. Alvan swam through the material darkness, which was roughly the consistency of cold honey, with practiced strokes. Even given the fact that he only really needed to take a breath once every hour, he felt trapped and Alvan fought to keep his fear contained. The already encroaching whispers certainly did not help either. If it wasn¡¯t for [Shadow Sympathy] then he would be completely in the dark. As it were, [Shadow Sympathy] let him have a seventh sense of all shadows around him relative to his position. There were no shadows inside this artificial hill or beneath him, so he could tell where the surface was. More importantly, shadows that moved correspond to an enemy. So he simply needed to exit at a spot with no moving shadows before he was consumed. Alvan had identified one such spot but was concerned he wouldn''t make it. This was the longest he had ever spent in [The Space Inbetween] and the whispers were reaching a crescendo. They almost sounded gleeful and he was doing damnest to ignore them. Muscles screaming, he crossed the last few spans in a burst and slithered out of the in-between, slopping to the ground. Right before he fully exited, he felt a searing pain from his ankle. Alvan staggered to his feet and inspected his injured foot. Three parallel gashes cut straight through the enchanted cloth of his breeches as if it were parchment paper. Already, it started to weep droplets of blood. Though less than he expected for a cut of that size. Looking closer, he realized that the edges of the wound were necrotized. This was bad, even that little blood would attract attention. He needed to get away from here fast. Stretching before him was a wasteland pockmarked by years of conflict. So far that even his vision could only make out shapes, was an opposing network of trenches. It was there that his objective lay. [Shadow Teleportation] was off cooldown so he picked up the farthest shadow he could see, one cast by a thoroughly burned-down house a stone''s throw from the trenches. Alvan fell back into his own shadow and was hiding behind a soot-covered brick wall an instant later. A wave of tiredness hit him an instant later as nearly all of his mana was drained. That teleport had been on the edge of his maximum range. He began to creep towards an old trench left over from a previous frontline when instinct caused him to activate the [The Space Inbetween]. A near-instant later, the ground beneath him was obliterated as several spells struck where he had been. He exited the shadowy realm inside the old trench but suffered another necrotic cut across his back for his transgression. The projectiles simply followed him. Damn, they must have a sensory specialist. Alvan judged that the earth magic reinforced trench was only going to hold a few more seconds under this assault. He needed to do something drastic. He activated [Shadow Sympathy]''s active for the first time and used it to shape the darkness of the trench. All of the nearby shadows were drawn into a small nucleus in front of him, making the trench look as if it were lit under flat lighting. Alvan poured his [Attributes], [Abilities], [Traits], and even some nonessential [Skills] into the nucleus, leaving him little more than mortal. He cut off the [Ability] and the nucleus expanded, then shifted into a near-perfect replica of him. Wounds and all. When he had finished, he dropped to his knees. That move had cost him the rest of his stamina and he was already out of mana, leaving him a wreck. Alvan inspected his clone. There had been some small losses in combat strength as [Shadow Sympathy] could currently only transfer seven parts in ten of his potential. However, for anyone who did not know him intimately the difference should be imperceptible. Dirt cascaded over him as a large crack ran down the stone wall of the trench. He was out of time. There was no need for discussion, the copy had been created knowing what it had to do. It dashed away at a speed that was blinding to his current senses while Alvan focused on suppressing his presence. It was easy enough since he was nearly tapped out. Through the tenuous connection he shared with the clone, he could see that it had multiple enemies hot on its tail. It had already taken some hits, but his mimicry extended even to injuries. It seemed like all of his ranged attackers had shifted their attention to the decoy Typical Ahsmati, thinking with their blood and not their heads. The only reason we are losing this war is simply because of their numbers. Alvan abandoned his cover and snuck through the trench. That won''t be happening for much longer, with this intelligence we should be able to ¡ª He blacked out for an instant and when he next came to, was pressed against a wall. There was an all-consuming pain in the center of his chest. He looked down in stupefaction to see a large spear had pierced through his chest and into the stone behind him. He could see a purple liquid dripping from the shaft and already the skin around the spear was beginning to blacken. Breath drawing short, he looked into the distance, hoping to at least get a look at his killer. Standing atop the earthen ramparts was a human woman, not an Ahsmati like he had been expecting. She was muscular, towering, and wore crude animal skins. Several similar spears to the one impaling him were strung across her back. It was too far but make out her features, but that didn''t matter. He knew her. The Huntress. Of course, she wouldn''t be fooled by that. That thrice-damned traitor. Desperately, he canceled [Shadow Sympathy] and tried to dislodge the spear with his renewed stats, but his fingers didn''t have the strength to get a hold. There was no feeling left in them. He tried to activate [The Space Inbetween] but lacked the mana for activation. Up above, the Huntress had already turned around and left. Alvan let his limbs go limp. He had no strength left in them anyway. I am really going to die, aren¡¯t I? The veteran of hundreds of missions, Alvan had made peace with such a fate. However, there was one issue that did not let him pass peacefully. Alvan dipped a finger into his wound had began writing a message on the spear shaft. Ahsmati Calmanity. Something otherworldly coming. Oppor ¡ª Chapter 1 - Shoe to Drop, Part 1 Dante never got used to places like this. He could feel all the judging gazes from velvet-wreathed windows on the street, then drawing those curtains and locking the door. A drop of sweat rolled down his face and he fought the urge to hunch. He risked a glance, raking his eyes over the lush green lawns and the immaculate facades of nearly identical houses. Must be the work of a homeowners association. Places like this always had them. Contrary to his expectations, no eyes met his. It had all been in his head. One of the pillars of a nearby house caught his eye and he squinted at it. Was that ¡­ marble? It was always marble with the rich, no matter how gaudy it looked to everyone else. This place just speaks money, he thought while eyeing a brand-new Mercedes-Benz. Of a make and model that he did not recognize ¡ª and he had seen a fair few. He reckoned that it was worth easily a hundred grand. He allowed himself to imagine for a moment just how that leather-clad steering wheel would feel beneath his fingers, the air breezing through his hair. Bliss. Now, If it was a few years ago I would ¡­ he would what exactly? Even in his prime, he knew better than to target such neighborhoods. This is where real power lay, and you just did not mess with that. At least that fantasy took the edge off. He breathed out a sigh of relief and ¡° ¡ª You lost Sonny?¡± Dante jumped and snapped his attention back to the road where a car had pulled to a stop in front of him. This one wasn¡¯t quite the gem that had caught his attention before, but was still a classic antique. Driving it, was an old woman who likely was older than her vehicle by an order of magnitude. She was gazing at him through tortoiseshell spectacles in a manner reminiscent of a disapproving librarian. She cleared her throat and said rather pointedly, "It isn''t that long until the curfew hon, shouldn¡¯t you be getting home to your parents?" The old harpy gave him a meaningful look and Dante repressed yet another sigh and pushed down a familiar surge of irritation. He had even worn his best slacks, dress shirt, and cleanest pair of sneakers just to try to avoid this situation. Wasted effort it seemed ¡­ ¡°Thank you for your concern ma''am,¡± he said, not meaning a word of it. ¡°However, I am not underage so the curfew ¡­ ¡± He trailed off as he saw her disbelieving look and resignedly reached for his wallet, flipped it open, and showed her his license. What a nosy old bag, he thought as the old woman leaned out of her window to peer skeptically at the card. Dante wrinkled his nose as he caught a whiff of a strong floral perfume applied way too liberally. ¡°I¡¯ll be darned, so you are 23. You don¡¯t look it.¡± She gave him a sidelong glance. ¡°If that''s the case, then why are you here? I certainly don¡¯t recognize you and I know everyone on the block¡± Of course she does. ¡°I am here to visit my sister. In fact, I am now quite late. If you don¡¯t mind?¡± Dante began walking off, fully intending to leave this fossil behind before feeling something snag his sleeve. A wave of burning anger swept through him and, fighting to keep a snarl off his face, he turned around to see that the woman had taken hold of his sleeve with a surprisingly strong grip. He had given black eyes for less. His breath came in short and fast and he almost made that mistake before he caught himself. I am not that man anymore. Something of his struggle must have made its way to his face despite his best efforts as she gently let go of his sleeve. ¡°Look I just want to make sure that you are for the right reasons, if you would just say who you are going to ¡ª ¡± Dante interrupted her, just about out of patience. ¡°The McClellans place, I believe their house number is 1467?¡± The woman blinked rapidly, obviously caught off guard. ¡°Yes, that¡¯s correct. I see that ¡ª ¡± Dante did not hear the last of what she was saying as he had already turned around and started walking away. Checking his phone, he cursed. Half an hour late! She is never going to let me live this down. Now that he was away from that encounter, Dante now felt a pang of regret. He could have handled that situation better. She had been the one to escalate things when she had touched him, but he knew that was no excuse. Now it was just going to be awkward every time he visited this neighborhood. Now he knew for sure that there was someone who disliked him here. He just hoped the old woman did not spread any rumors. It hadn¡¯t helped either that his new Demesnes & Daemons game with Ray had run overtime, as nearly always happened. Really, who could have expected that the necromancer had hidden zombies in the swamp water and that baseline zombies were THAT strong? Battle rating one-quarter his ass, just six of the bastards had taken down him and half the party before he had excused himself. Dante wouldn¡¯t be surprised if they were still at it. He shook himself out of his reminiscing. He had to be careful as the first time he had visited the house he walked right past and had gotten lost so badly that his sister had to fetch him. If I remember correctly, the house should be around here. Let¡¯s see ¡­ 1463 ¡­ 1465 ¡­ There, 1467! In front of him lay a house much like any other in the neighborhood. It was a rather large house, bordering on a mansion, that was primarily made of white stucco, brick, and marble. It fit in perfectly with the aesthetic of the neighborhood. Personally, Dante thought that spoke to a lack of taste. The grounds in front ¡ª it was much too large to be called a yard ¡ª bore an extensive garden full of blooming flowers, landscaped trees, and even an artificial stream. Even the air smelled better here, laden with that fresh-cut lawn smell and blooming flowers. All together, it gave off the sense of a natural oasis that Dante knew for a fact was the result of many thousands of hours of painstaking care. He had seen the gardeners at work. Was it any surprise that he always hesitated there on the threshold? At that moment, he realized that something had changed since his last visit. A sign had been staked into the landscape where it was easily visible from the street. Dante squinted in the twilight to read it. Protected by ¡­ Vantage Security Systems? Seriously? He began the rather long walk to the house entrance and wondered if he should bother informing the McClellans about the massive mistake they¡¯d made. Honestly, it was quite like them to fall for the advertising without doing their research. Even a cursory search would find several lawsuits concerning just how ineffectual their systems are. Problems that he knew for a fact were never fixed. There were even some criminals that targeted only marks with Vantage Security. They did have effective advertising. Any further considerations were cut off as he neared the oak and wrought iron door. Well, this was it. Dante took a moment to try and straighten his now unruly hair and quickly realized it for the futile effort that it was ¡ª his curls could be so fickle. Not giving himself a chance to overthink, he depressed the doorbell and heard its crystal chimes resonate through the house. Just as he was wondering if he should press it again he heard quick footsteps on the other side and then the sound of the latch opening. Please, please, please let it be Sis and not ¡ª The door swung open to reveal a tall man with a rather severe expression on his face. Him. Reginald McClellan was a broad man with sloped shoulders and a generous gut. His black hair, peppered with white, revealed that he was well into his sixties. He looked every bit the college professor that he was with his casual slacks and a sporty dress shirt with a half-done tie. It was likely that he had just arrived home. After all, Dante had planned to arrive at the house just before he was slated to return home simply to avoid such a situation.This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it Mr. McClellan eyed him sternly, looking him up and down. His gaze caught on Dante¡¯s right hand, as it always did, and Dante subconsciously covered his two missing fingers. Dante had never quite figured out why this always happened and would probably never know. He certainly was never going to ask the man. Looking up, he nearly missed a flash of something on Mr. McClellan¡¯s face ¡ª was it sympathy? ¡ª before the perpetual frown replaced it. A frown that he leveled straight at Dante. ¡°You are late Mr. Embry.¡± ¡°Sorry Sir, my ¡­¡± Dante hesitated. Likely talking about the encounter with that nosy woman would color Mr. McClellan¡¯s view of him even further. ¡°That is, I missed my first bus. Because I overslept, because of the new job.¡± The frown deepened and Dante winced. Smooth. ¡°Well, not that it seems to matter, Sofia is still getting ready.¡± Mr. McClellan''s eyes flitted from his sweaty face to his untamed hair, his expression hardening. ¡°She wants to look good for her brother¡¯s big day.¡± ¡°Ah, I see. That¡¯s a relief.¡± With that, the silence that he had been dreading descended upon the two of them. Is he not even going to invite me in? Dante gazed from the still mostly closed door to the fact that Mr. McClellan was hiding most of his view of the house with his frame. Dante had only ever been inside that house a couple of times, he should not have expected today to be any different. Still, this is so awkward. Dante shifted from side to side, fighting the urge to peer over the man''s shoulder. Is Sophia seriously not ready? Well, I can¡¯t just stand here and stare down at her father. C¡¯mon Dante think, there has to be something that you can talk about with him! He racked his brain for anything that they shared in common and quickly concluded that he knew nothing about the man. It wasn¡¯t like either of them had the desire to ever make an effort to get to know the other. Still, there must be something. So caught up in his thoughts, Dante nearly missed it when Mr. McClellan was the one who broke the silence. ¡°That job of yours going well?¡± Dante stared at the man for a second. He had never shown any interest in his personal life before. Maybe he was finally getting to him? ¡°Oh yeah! Just started last week. I¡¯ve already been putting in quite a lot of overtime hours. After all, it¡¯s a bit harder for me to type quite as fast as my coworkers.¡± He wiggled all three of his fingers on his disabled hand. If it had worked once today, why not try again? He needed all the points that he could have with the man and he was not above using all of the cards at his disposal. Mr. McClellan''s gaze zeroed in on his hand then looked away almost guiltily. ¡°That¡¯s ¡­ ahem ¡­ good. Very good.¡± Dante hid a smile, so even that man could be flustered. Even if it certainly was not the most dignified way of doing it. ¡°You were fortunate to get a job like that, given with ¡­ well everything.¡± Mr. McClellan coughed again and maintained his gaze over Dante¡¯s shoulder. ¡°That is to say,¡± he continued, ¡°That you¡¯ve done good, kid. Certainly made your sister proud. Make sure to keep it up.¡± Dante was so stunned that the jab at his past didn¡¯t even register. This was new territory, never before had either Mr. or Ms. McClellan ever shown anything close to approval for him. Of course, he had to add an unspoken ¡®or else¡¯ to the end, he thought and smiled wryly. The silence stretched between them again, though perhaps one not quite as uncomfortable as before. Still ¡­ Where is she? He was so late and yet she wasn¡¯t ready. He supposed he should be grateful that he hadn¡¯t had to endure a conversation like this for half an hour or more if he had arrived on time. It wasn¡¯t like the place he was going to take her to was THAT fancy. Almost as if summoned by the thought, he heard the pitter-patter of quick footsteps and saw Mr. McClellan make a half turn as a shape darted by him. ¡°Brother!¡± He only had a second to get ready before Sofia tackled him. All the breath left him with an emphatic ¡®oof¡¯. Despite being in her second year of high school, she was already taller than him by a fair few inches and weighed about the same. Not that he would ever mention that fact in her presence. He had learned that lesson a while ago. ¡°Hey Soph¡±, her energy never failed to put a smile on his lips. He reached up to pat her red hair and she immediately scowled, pushing his hand aside. It was then that he realized that she had grown taller since he had last seen her. Also ¡­ She looks like mom now. Not that she would remember. He barely did himself these days. ¡°Come on bro, I am not a kid anymore." She drew back from him and reached out her fist and looked at him expectantly. ¡°Let¡¯s do something like this from now on¡± ¡°What a fist bump? No. Come on, it¡¯s not the 2010s anymore.¡± She continued looking at him expectantly and he sighed. Dante lackadaisically drew back his fist and knocked it against hers. ¡°Boom!¡± Sophia exclaimed and drew her hand while wiggling her fingers and eyebrows. He snorted despite his best efforts and she returned his grin. They were interrupted when Mr. McClellan cleared his throat. ¡°You will be back before eleven, no exceptions. Don¡¯t make me regret this.¡± Mr. McClellan said, staring unblinkingly at Dante, who did his best to meet his gaze without flinching. ¡°Oh my god Dad, he gets it already. Besides, I¡¯ll be there to remind him.¡± Soph walked past him and tugged him back towards the street. ¡°Come onnnn, we don¡¯t have a lot of time left and we don¡¯t want to miss the bus.¡± Sophia pulled him at a brisk pace back the way he came. Dante turned back one more time before they left the sight of the house and found Mr. McClellan was still watching him, who took the opportunity to mouth ¡®I am watching you¡¯ while pointing two fingers at his eyes then back at him. Apparently, they still had a long way to go. Dante fell into a quick walk beside Sophie and noticed that his sister had gone all out. A nice dress, hair down and straightened, and makeup to top it off. It threw him off a bit if he were to be honest with himself. He was much more used to her dressing in stained jeans and a ratty t-shirt. If she hadn¡¯t acted so much like his sister he might not have recognized her at first glance. ¡°What¡¯s all this?¡± he asked, gesturing to his sister in general. ¡°Desmond¡¯s Steakhouse is a pretty nice place but nothing like that.¡± She looked over her shoulder to flash a snarky grin at him. ¡°What? A girl can¡¯t look nice every once in a while? Besides, what if the server is cute or something?¡± She cackled madly at the expression on his face. ¡°Nononono¡± Dante shook his head emphatically. ¡°You are so NOT doing anything like that. Not while I am there!¡± Sophia¡¯s laughing just redoubled and Dante just shook his head and picked up the pace. A good many minutes passed before she spoke again, this time she sounded contrite. ¡°So I hope Dad didn¡¯t ride your ass too hard. He thinks you''re a bad influence on me or something.¡± Dante snorted at that. ¡°Just the usual amount. Although ¡­ I think we might finally be making some progress¡± he said, still not quite believing it. ¡°Wait, really!¡± He looked back and saw that she was beaming at him. A look that he returned in kind. ¡°Yeah, it caught me off guard. We were having the usual awkward standoff when he up and complimented me.¡± Dante hesitated for a second then added belatedly. ¡°I know it¡¯s not much, but baby steps right?¡± Sophia nodded vigorously. ¡°That¡¯s right! I guess we now have two things to celebrate tonight!¡± She stopped suddenly and before pointed to the bus stop ahead of them, an alarmed expression on her face. ¡°Shit bro, that¡¯s our bus.¡± He followed her finger and saw that the bus was indeed already at the stop. Dante grabbed his sister''s hand and broke into a jog. What followed was a madcap dash to the bus, all the while hoping it wouldn¡¯t pull away. They climbed aboard, out of breath and Dante swiped his pass. He said to the driver, who was an older gentleman wearing a ball cap and a grand white mustache, ¡°Thanks for holding up, don¡¯t know what we would have done if we missed this bus.¡± The driver shrugged, ¡°Not like this route is busy at this time anyways,¡± and gestured to the interior. Dante could see what the man meant, they certainly had their pick of seats. The only other passengers were a teenager wearing a hoodie bobbing his head to his own beat near the front of the bus and two uniformed school girls at the back. They elected to sit together between the passengers, and the bus rumbled into motion. It seemed that they had managed to board the bus just in time, as the pitter-patter of rain against the roof soon sounded out as a light rain started. Dante could remember when that would mean a miserable night. It was hard to stay warm on the streets with no roof over your head. All the good spots were always taken and you would likely have to sleep like a half-drowned rat. Given how much it rained here, that was a lot of days. ¡°You know sis, if it weren¡¯t for you, I don¡¯t even want to know where I would be now.¡± He yelped as he was poked in the side. He turned and leveled a glare at his sister who wagged a finger at him. ¡°None of that bro. We promised nothing too mushy tonight. We are just here to celebrate you getting your new job.¡± Dante massaged his side, he always hated it when she did that. ¡°Yeah I know, but don¡¯t act like this wouldn¡¯t be possible without you helping out. You¡¯ve always been there for me Soph, never lost faith no matter how bad things got. Kept me sane.¡± His voice was trembling and he had to pause to dab at the wetness at the corner of his eyes. ¡°This whole thing ¡­ I just want to let you know how much you mean to me¡±. Sophia huffed, looking away. ¡°C¡¯mon Dante, you¡¯re embarrassing me.¡± She was rolling her eyes at him like only a teenage girl could, but he could spot a small smile despite her nonchalant act. ¡°I know, I know.¡± he laughed, ¡°Mushy stuff over now.¡± He poked back at her, eliciting a squeal, and said: ¡°The real question is what you are going to order tonight! Don¡¯t hold back now, this is as much your celebration as it is mine. Also, I got my first paycheck now and man is it waaay more cash than I¡¯ve had, so don¡¯t worry about price or anything.¡± Soph started to respond, then her gaze fixated on something behind him and her expression transformed into one of abject horror. Dante looked over his shoulder and had just enough time to see that grill of an 18-wheeler mere feet away. In that one eternal moment, he locked eyes with the sallow eyes of the driver. The man had a six o''clock shadow and dark bags under his eyes. There was a cigarette dangling from his lips and was clutching his chest. Then Dante¡¯s world was upturned and became nothing but pain. Chapter 2 - Shoe to Drop, Part 2 The next Dante came to, he was aware of nothing but that pain for a while. He was lying on his back. He hurt everywhere, his right side most of all. He had been on a bus, there had been a crash, and right next to him was ¡ª Sophia. Dante¡¯s eyes snapped open to reveal vision that was blurry and tinged red. His head throbbed and he raised an arm to wipe at his face. It came away wet, and he could now see that it was streaked with blood. Past that, lay a bank of windows. The side of the bus he realized. It was framed by a row of seats to his left and right which stretched above him for about 5 feet. The bus must have flipped. He tried to rise but grimaced as there was a spike of pain on the right side of his chest. Something feels broken. He gritted his teeth and pushed past the discomfort, managing to flip onto his side. The movement caused the tinkling of glass and he noted duly that he had been lying on a broken window. There was scraped pavement beneath that. Pain lanced up his back at the movement and he reached a trembling hand to feel it. Sharp nubs met his fingers. Shit, I think some of that glass is in me. He refused to think about that and, not wanting to lose his momentum, climbed to his feet and surveyed the bus interior, desperately searching for his sister. It was nearly unrecognizable. Just a few feet away, where the bus driver had been sitting, there was an amalgamation of twisted metal where bus and truck had become one. The thick, acrid smell of fuel and chemicals burning wafted from that direction. Of the kindly bus driver, there was no sign. It appeared that the entirety of the bus had been bent and twisted around to the point it resembled the letter ¡®J¡¯ more than anything else. Just about every window had shattered and many of the chair rows had been detached and lay strewn across the cabin. It was then that he spotted his sister, bent over one of the loose seats. ¡°Sophia!¡± He yelled and staggered over to her. To his immense relief, she moved at the sound of his voice. She cracked open one eye and her unfocused gaze found his. ¡°Dante! What ¡­ what happened?¡± She shifted and a grimace flashed across her features, then clutched one arm to her chest. ¡°Shit, my arm. I ¡­ think it¡¯s broken.¡± Dante gave the offending arm a once over and saw a quickly growing quilt of blue and black. That ¡­ and there was a definite bend. He sucked in a breath, not quite sure what to do. It was probably not safe here, but he remembered hearing something about not moving someone if they were heavily injured. There was a sudden flare of heat and the burning smell redoubled. Dante looked up to see that the fuzed section had caught fire. An unidentifiable liquid was leaking into the cabin in spurts. On its surface, a fire was catching that was quickly growing into an inferno. Well, that answers that question. ¡°Come on sis, we need to get out of here.¡± Dante took hold of her uninjured arm and gently helped her to stand. Even with her participation, Dante was alarmed that he had to do most of the work and by the end she was panting heavily. Dante supported her and they shuffled away from the blaze towards the mid-section of the bus. Dante scanned for an exit. The door at the front was no longer existent. The back window of the bus seemed to be pressed up against something, a building he thought, so that was a no-go as well. Which left ¡­ He looked straight up to the series of shattered windows above. Bingo. ¡°Hold on a second, I think see a way out,¡± he said and let go of her so that he could climb up. However, his sister did not relinquish her grip. He looked back to see that she was looking at him with a familiar stubborn expression. ¡°Hold on, we need to go help them,¡± Sophia said with iron in her gaze and pointed towards the back. Dante followed her finger to where the two school girls had been sitting. One appeared to be unconscious underneath a detached section of seating and the other was on the ground next to her yelling something into her phone. Then, he turned the other way to where the flames had begun to escape the cabin and were spreading along the ground rapidly. The smart thing to do would be to get him and his sister out of there. Dante did not owe these people anything and he would be damned if anything happened to Soph. Resolving himself, he reached down and grabbed tightly onto her wrist. He hoped that she would be too weak to fight him. ¡°Dante, please.¡± He looked back into her big eyes, so filled with trust and all of the expectations in the world. It was suddenly clear to him at that moment that if he made them leave now something in that gaze would die forever. Dante made his decision. ¡°Go and see if you can find that boy, I¡¯ll go help them.¡± At his words, Sophia¡¯s face lit up and his heart ached with how proud she looked in that moment. Dante released his death grip on Sophia¡¯s hand and paused for a moment when she wobbled and grabbed onto a nearby chair. Fortunately, she stabilized and began gingerly making her way up the cabin towards the fire. His instincts were screaming at him to go with her, but he forced himself to turn and go to the school girls.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. On his way, he surveyed the situation. It appeared like the chairs in front of them had sheared themselves free and had pinned one of the girls to her seat. He could see a not-insignificant amount of blood dripping from the seat beneath her. She appeared to be conscious and was surprisingly rather calm. Her friend on the other hand ¡­ ¡° ¡ª everything is on fire and she¡¯s bleeding all over the place! We need help right now!¡± The girl spoke in a rapid staccato, hardly pausing for breath. ¡°I think the driver¡¯s dead and ¡­ and,¡± she paused as the operator on the end finally seemed to get a word in edgewise. ¡°Our location? Uh ¡­ we are ¡­ uh ¡­ on ¡­ on¡± She looked around wildly, trying to spot any landmarks through rents in the bus. ¡°128th street, near the Smartway¡± Dante said, before gripping the wreckage and giving it an experimental heave with all of his strength. It shifted slightly and the pinned girl let out a little gasp of pain. ¡°Shit¡± he muttered. He had been afraid of that, brute strength had never been his strong suit. He would need something more, like ¡­ leverage. He cast his gaze for anything that could work. There. It was one of the vertical metal poles that passengers could grab onto if all of the seats were full. Fortunately, it was already nearly detached and when he pulled on it with all of his body weight it came free. Dante took it back and kneeled to be on the same level as the pinned girl. ¡°Hi there, what¡¯s your name?¡± The schoolgirl looked at him uncomprehendingly, his casual manner seemingly taking her off guard. She started to say something, coughed, swallowed, and managed to get it out the second time. ¡°It¡¯s ¡­ Emily.¡± He noted that Emily was deathly pale. ¡°Glad to meet you, Emily!¡± he said and placed the pole underneath the bench before looking back at her. ¡°Look, we don¡¯t have much time. I know you are hurting right now, but we have to get you out of here.¡± He laid a hand on the obstructing seating. ¡°I am going to have to move this ok?¡± Emily nodded, and he attempted to smile reassuringly. It didn¡¯t seem to work. ¡°But I am going to need your help, ok? When I say ¡®Go¡¯ I am going to need you to push up.¡± She nodded again and Dante turned to glare at the phone girl, who was still babbling away. ¡°You!¡± he barked at her, causing her to jump in surprise before turning a wide-eyed gaze back at him. ¡°Give me a hand with this.¡± Her gaze was blank, then comprehension dawned on her face as she saw the improvised lever. She hurried over to take a place on the other side of the pole. ¡°Ready?¡± ¡°Alright, let''s go on push. 3 ¡­ 2 ¡­ 1 ¡­ PUSH!¡± Dante pushed down with all of his weight and the phone girl did the same while Emily pushed upwards feebly. The cabin filled with the sound of groaning metal and the pole flexed to the point that he was afraid that it would bend. However, the chair did not budge. What is it going to take to get his damn thing to move! Dante let go of the pole, took a couple of steps back, and then dived into it. He screamed as something tore loose inside of him, but the pole gave with a shriek of tearing metal and the bench shifted off of Emily. A new wave of pain hit him a moment later, causing him to stagger and nearly fall before he caught himself. He watched as the phone girl rushed to Emily and hugged her, which seemed like a monumentally bad idea to him but it was over before he could stop it. He noticed that Emily still seemed to have a fragment of the chair in her gut, which he was certain was very not good. Dante tried to rise but was forced to rest against the wall again as dizziness hit him. That maneuver had taken a lot out of Dante and he found was having difficulty forming coherent thoughts past the pain and the heat. Especially the heat ¡­ That''s right, the fire! He turned and, thankfully, saw Sophie and the teenage boy with the hoodie ¡ª who seemed relatively unharmed although a little singed. He was also glad to see that some color had returned to Sophie and that she was looking more stable. Close behind them, lay a thick sheet of flame that was ever approaching closer. Where is all of this coming from? Just what was the truck hauling? Whatever the answer may be, it was clear that they were out of time. Dante pointed at the teenage boy and said, ¡°You, go up first. We need someone to pull up the injured.¡± The boy started, looked like he was going to object, met Dante¡¯s glare, and then began climbing. Once he reached the windows above, he paused to eye the jagged glass shards. He bunched his hoodie up at his hand and began pushing the shards out of the way while the rest of them watched the flames approach. ¡°Now you!¡± he said to phone girl the instant the boy climbed through. ¡°We need you to help pull Emily up!¡± She nodded and made her way up, thankfully much faster when the boy offered a hand. Now for the hard part. ¡°C¡¯mon Sis, let¡¯s get Emily out of here.¡± They hurried over to where she had been lying and found that she was limp. Fortunately, she still appeared to be breathing. Well, that¡¯s going to make this harder. He took one of Emily¡¯s arms and Sophia followed his lead. They dragged her beneath the window, though he was doing most of the work. ¡°I¡¯ll lift her the best I can Sophia, you just make sure that her arms are straight so that they can grab on.¡± Dante waited for a nod before shifting his grip to under her armpits. Then he began to lift. Chest screaming with pain, he strained to get Emily past waist level. His sister helped the best she could, but she only had one arm after all. Then, Dante could feel the heat intensify. He risked a glance down and saw that the flames were quite literally licking at their heels. Ice plunged through his veins and he tapped into a reserve of energy he didn¡¯t know that he had and lifted Emily higher with a primal roar. Suddenly, the weight disappeared and he looked up to see that the pair above had finally grabbed onto her hands and was pulling her up. There was no time to waste and Dante began climbing after her. He paused midway and extended a hand down to Sophia, which she took. He helped her keep her balance as she climbed up to where he was. The seats that they were standing on groaned ominously as it bore both of their weights. ¡°You first!¡± he shouted over the low roar of the flames. Something of his unwillingness to yield on this matter must have bled through because she complied after only a short glance at his face. As soon as the pair helped her through, he went to follow. As he pushed off the chair there was the shriek of tearing metal and its support disappeared from beneath him. Dante flailed about for something, anything that could arrest his fall. Finding nothing, he was engulfed in the torrential flames beneath. The pain was instantaneous and overwhelming and he screamed out. ¡°Brother!¡± Through the surrounding flames, he saw Sophia above being held back. She was fighting hard. Tears and snot were running down her face and her yells had quickly devolved from anything sensible. He locked eyes with the teenage boy and tried to say, Get her out of here! But there was no air in his lungs. Something of his message seemed to get through as the boy nodded and then pulled Sophia out of sight. Dante tried to crawl through the flames and reach upwards but his muscles refused to listen to him. Instead, they contorted then contracted, and he curled into the fetal position as all moisture began to be cooked out of them. It was a small mercy then when there was an earth-shattering BOOM as something detonated. All pain was replaced with oblivion. But it was not the end. Chapter 3 - Coming to Terms, Part 1 Awareness returned to him in degrees. First, there was a sensation of drifting. There was no direction to the drifting as far he could tell, as none of his senses remained. By all logic he should not be feeling anything, not that he had the capacity for such complex thoughts in this form. But drift he did for an indeterminate amount of time. Then he stopped. It was not a natural coming to rest, it was more akin to someone grabbing the collar of your shirt while you were sprinting. It was a brutal sensation that interrupted the state of tranquility he had been in for all of his limited memory. It also inspired his first thought since coming here. What am I? He grappled with that question for a while before he was disturbed by the pulling again. Though perhaps it would have been better described as yanking, as each bout of it was quite uncomfortable. He yearned for the soothing stream-like sensation of before. It was then that he became aware of a new sensation. Swiftly approaching, he could detect ¡­ light? No, that wasn¡¯t quite it. Warmth? Closer. Perhaps ¡­ Connection? That was the closest word he had for it, though he felt It was all three of those words and more besides. The most important thing, he realized, was that there was something else on the other end. That was equally aware of him. In fact, many things were aware of him. Many thousands of them. They appeared like a sea of stars to him. Each independent being like an infinitely complex pool of lights. As he drew closer, and then entered, amongst them he now realized that he had an answer to his earlier question. I am Dante. A human being. I ¡­ died. Memories of his former life flashed through his mind. Watching TV as a toddler, his parents screaming at each other in the background, and then a resounding smack. The back seat of a car, his Dad had been driving, the screech of tires, blood everywhere, his Mother crying. His first home after, the one with the peeling wallpaper, his sister''s tiny fist in hand. A prison cell, hard to tell which one exactly, they all looked so alike. That was it huh? he thought, That was my life¡­ It had been a pretty awful life if he were to be honest with himself. He had done so many things that he now regretted. Dante was not surprised that had ended up in a place like this. The only constant that had made it bearable for a while had been his sister. She had helped him turn it around at the end, though it looked like it had not been enough. That¡¯s right, Sophia! It felt like a fog across his mind had cleared now. Of the bus crash, the frantic moments spent saving the passengers and his sister, and his agonizing death in the fire. She had been standing pretty close to the bus when the explosion occurred. If the shrapnel flew off in the wrong direction it could have ¡­ no ¡­ he ¡­ could not think that. Soph was fine, she had to be. That boy certainly got her to safety. Though ¡­ he knew that her heart would be broken because she made them go back into the wreck. She always held herself up to the highest standards ¡ª impossible ones by his measure ¡ª even when she could not possibly change anything. It was one of her greatest flaws. He was sure this would be no different. Something was wrong. For all that those facts should bother him, he felt nothing. Dante felt that he should be more concerned about all that had happened. He remembered every agonizing moment of being burned alive in visceral detail, but he couldn¡¯t even muster anything beyond a faint pang of discomfort. Even that seemed more like a memory of discomfort rather than the true thing. It was more of an intellectual understanding if anything. Perhaps it was a result of not having a body? Still, the thought of his sister ¡­ Dante wasn¡¯t religious, but he prayed to anything listening that his sister was alive. He hoped she did not blame herself for making him turn back. It had been his choice. It had been the right one in retrospect. And that was that. Dante found it disturbingly easy to accept that and move on to different more pressing matters. After all, he might have eternity to revisit that issue. Where was he anyway? The afterlife? He had never been much of a believer, he always seemed to have something more important going on than pondering such questions, but this scene didn¡¯t match the afterlife of any he had heard of. Though Dante supposed that maybe it was some small, relatively unknown religion that had been right this entire time. He surveyed his surroundings again. If so, then this was probably not their heaven. He noticed something new at the edge of perception and refocused his attention. Was that another light that had just appeared? The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. It certainly was, as he noted it was getting closer in spastic bursts. Much like he had been brought here. Then, yet another one. It was like they were being gathered. Dante began to count them. It wasn¡¯t like there was much else to do here after all. He nearly faltered when one of the lights he had just counted had its connection to him ¡®flare¡¯. It was the only way he could describe it. Somehow, he felt as if this meant that they were taking more notice of him as well. He tried to send a message back by refocusing his attention on it, focusing on something else, then going back to it. After a moment, he felt it do the same. He felt a moment of excitement, at least as close as he could in this state. It was possible to communicate with others! He would just have to ¡­ what exactly? It wasn¡¯t like he knew Morse code or anything and even if he did there was no guarantee that his partner would either. It didn¡¯t stop him from sending pulses to his new friend though, who would always respond after a delay. It was something to do after all. Their little game was interrupted when he felt something else approach. Something different. It was impossible not to notice with his new sense as it was ¡­ something more. Something near undefinable. It was like they were candles before the sun. The connection he felt to it was different as well. More ¡­ Alien. It felt impossibly ancient and like there was a gravity around it. It felt like this whatever this Being decided, simply was. Was it a god? Or angel? Something divine? Dante found that he could easily believe it was any of those. Whatever it was, the being settled amongst them all. Dante could feel all attention was riveted on it. Then, tendrils seemed to unfurl from it. They snaked out towards every presence around it. One was coming for him. A fact that he found was dimly disturbing to him. He willed himself to move, but that did not change anything. He could only wait for it to arrive. When it did, it wasted no time diving for the ¡®core¡¯ of him. If he had a mouth, he would have gasped as he felt it alter something integral to him. It was a violating sensation, one that would have been as disturbing to him as burning to death had been if he still could feel. He could only wait until the process was done. Eventually, it lessened and then stopped entirely. The tendril remained connected but was no longer as violating as before. Not that he cared for the moment, as a ¡­ screen filled his mind.
Name: Dante Embry Race: Human Class: Unclassed Level: 1 Attributes
Alacrity 9 [+] Endurance 13 [+]
Charisma 6 [+] Fortitude 11 [+]
Cognition 13 [+] Perception 8 [+]
Constitution 12 [+] Strength 7 [+]
Dexterity 12 [+] Willpower 14 [+]
Skills
Brawl 2
Deception 1
Lock Picking 4
Logic 4
Menial Labor 3
Sleight of Hand 1
Stealth 2
Abilities
[Selections Available]
Traits
Fickle Fate MAX
Human Tenacity 4
Chapter 4 - Coming to Terms, Part 2 A character sheet? Of him? At this point why not? However, it did raise the question that perhaps this wasn¡¯t the afterlife after all. At least not one he was meant to stay in. Dante wasn¡¯t unfamiliar with the concept of reincarnation or ¡®Isekai¡¯, as some of his more nerdy friends called it. One of his close friends, Daniel, loved the genre and often raved about it. To get closer to him, Dante had read a couple of those novels so they would have something in common. He could recall more than a few in which character sheets or status like this one were a thing, with not too dissimilar features to this. Dante remembered that a lot of them had been pure wish fulfillment, which bode well for his future. Though ¡­ his life up to this point had been any indicator, then he wouldn¡¯t bet on it. As if he would get a happy ending ¡ª It was as if lightning struck him as he realized something. In a lot of those stories, the hero would return home after accomplishing whatever task they were summoned to complete. Dante could very well see Soph again, as well as the few friends he had begun reconnecting with. Hell, he would even be happy to see Mr. McClellan again. For most things Dante needed rigorous proof, but for this one jump in logic he would make an exception. He vowed right then that he would complete whatever task he was assigned to accomplish and then return home. Perhaps save a world while he was at it, if he was lucky. Though ¡­ there were a few discrepancies with what had happened so far that poked holes in his theory. For one, there usually would be an explanation for what he was being reincarnated to do by a god or some such. The quite possibly divine being that was still blazing across his perception would count as such a figure, but at the moment they did not seem interested in providing explanations. Perhaps that would come later? He scanned the character sheet again feeling slightly ¡­ unsettled. To think the entirety of his life, who he was, and what he accomplished could all be represented by a single sheet. It was degradingly reductive. Dante now apparently had attributes, of which there seemed to be ten. Some of which he was familiar with from RPGs, games, and web novels. Attributes such as strength, dexterity, constitution, perception, charisma, and willpower were classics in such media. Though Dante wondered just how much he could infer from his previous knowledge. The rest of the stats ¡ª that was endurance, alacrity, resistance, and cognition ¡ª were less conventional. He could hazard a guess what they did for nearly all of them, with the exception being alacrity. Dante wasn¡¯t even quite sure what the word meant, though it brought to mind images of speed. Though he thought that would have been covered by dexterity. Dante also had no idea what exactly each stat would change. It was one thing to know that leveling charisma would likely make him more convincing but it was altogether ambiguous what it would accomplish. Would it make him more attractive? Or, more frighteningly, would his words become more convincing than they otherwise should? Which would be tantamount to mind control. Damien pictured lords or kings able to change the minds of their subjects with but a few words. Truly dystopian. Assuming that the baseline for these stats was ten, which was an assumption that he felt safe in making. Which meant ¡­ he wasn¡¯t that bad with people, was he? Dante had friends after all. Not very many of them, but good ones. Though supposed he had never been good with women. He fought the sudden urge to dump points into it. I should probably wait to distribute any stats or talents until I know what I want to do. Though it certainly was tempting. Later, he promised himself. At least his cognition and willpower were very good. Actually, given that the average person would have ten in every stat and that there were ten stats, then the baseline should be around one hundred stat points. He had one hundred and five stat points, which was a little flattering. The pluses next to them reminded him of the few RPGs he had played, though it was odd that there was nothing to indicate how many he had to distribute. He decided to leave that alone for the moment. Inspecting the skills ¡­ Dante concluded that they certainly reflected his past. He had to admit that he was slightly dissatisfied with that fact. He had no desire for that part of his life to define him so heavily. He was certain that he had gotten the logic skill from his recent computer science degree and resulting job. He could have a worse selection of skills he supposed, he could not deny that things such as [Stealth] or [Brawl] would be helpful in his new life. Dante was also surprised that he had so few skills and that they were so low-level. It seemed like acquiring them was probably a time-intensive task. Which brought him to the abilities section, which was empty except for a blinking tab that read [selections available]. As soon as he wondered how to use it, another window opened.
Abilities
Place Mark
Recall
Imbue Flower
Grow Epidermis
Command Steel
These options were certainly varied. Who would ever want to grow an epidermis? There seems to be no guarantee that you could remove the epidermis. Maybe there is a way to get more information? There certainly had been in the stories he had read. There didn¡¯t seem to be a button for this, so he focused on the name. This didn¡¯t seem to have any effect. Perhaps, there is a command? Information? Details? Stats? No response from any of those. He kept trying with every other relevant word that he could think of to similar effect. Was he meant to select some of these without really knowing what they did? Dante HAD to be missing something. He would have to come back to this later. Moving on, he focused on another thing that had caught his attention, a scroll bar at the side of the list. With another thought more options were revealed. Curious, he kept scrolling down and options kept appearing. After some browsing, he quickly concluded that there was probably a skill for everything if you spent enough time looking for it. Fortunately, there were more conventional abilities such as the traditional [Fireball] or the boring [Piercing strike]. Given the near-total deprivation of all of Dante¡¯s senses, it was hard to keep track of time in this place, but he scrolled down for quite a time and never found the end. In essence, these options are practically infinite. So that''s something at least. The main barrier is simply going to be my patience. And my memory ¡­ That''s enough of that for the moment, there was one last section. The traits section only had two entries, [Human Tenacity] and [Fickle Fate]. Of the two the second, [Human Tenacity], seemed the easier to parse. Was it something that he got purely from being human? He had no idea what it affected either, as tenacity could refer to many things. His character sheet didn¡¯t seem to yield any details. It was probably useless to speculate beyond that. It was the other one that was more interesting to him, [Fickle Fate].This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. So it involved fate, probably his? Does that mean that it could change the future? And what did it mean for it to be fickle? It sounded unreliable at best. Was it possible for a trait to be bad for him? Also ¡­ Whoever created this ¡­ System ¡­ Can control fate? Focusing again on the quite possibly divine being amongst them, he could believe it. He couldn¡¯t say he liked it. Dante paused as he realized that something had changed while he had been focused on the menus. The entity was now broadcasting something else to him through the tether, a single number. 9,752. Cryptic. As he continued to watch, it ticked down. 9,741. Well, that''s just concerning. What could the number possibly represent? Was it how much time they had left? It didn¡¯t seem to tick down at a consistent rate, but he also had nothing to compare it to. Maybe it¡¯s a currency of some sort for the skills or stats? That seemed more likely, but he had no way of confirming that unless he purchased them. For a split second, he had the urge to immediately start spending his points but managed to rein it in. Panic would not help here. Which meant that he needed to get to it and come up with a strategy for his new life sooner rather than later. Taking stock, there were very few things he knew for certain. He had been saved from certain death, probably for a purpose. No such thing as a free lunch and all that. It seemed certain that there was going to be ¡­ something after this that would involve the use of a character sheet and likely the associated mechanics that would follow. Likely, his next life would be similar to some of the media he had read on the topic. However, he was leery about placing too much faith in those tropes. Everything else, it seemed, was up in the air. Such as what exactly his purpose in this other world was going to be. In most of the literature he read, it would be to save the world. Usually from the Demon Lord or some other great evil. Even this was no guarantee. The status screen certainly wasn¡¯t going to give him any more information. This brought up another point entirely, the fact that this System seemed to be supremely unhelpful. It explained nothing, which meant that he was forced to make these choices blind. This would make mistakes inevitable and Dante had no way of knowing if he could change any of the choices. Why would it ever be designed this way? It truly stumped him. Perhaps, it was a test of some sort? The thought of his future life being treated as a test did not sit right with him. His feelings about it didn¡¯t change the possibility, however. Likely an unanswerable question for the moment, so Dante decided to put it aside and focus on finding a strategy. Any ¡°build¡±, to use an RPG term, would work best if it followed his natural talents so it was time to consider what he already had. Dante summoned the stat sheet again.
Name: Dante Embry Race: Human Class: Unclassed Level: 1 Attributes
Alacrity 9 [+] Endurance 13 [+]
Charisma 6 [+] Fortitude 11 [+]
Cognition 13 [+] Perception 8 [+]
Constitution 12 [+] Strength 7 [+]
Dexterity 12 [+] Willpower 14 [+]
Skills
Brawl 2
Deception 1
Lock Picking 4
Logic 4
Menial Labor 3
Sleight of Hand 1
Stealth 2
Abilities
[Selections Available]
Traits
Fickle Fate MAX
Human Tenacity 4
If he were being honest with himself, it seemed like his skills favored more of a cloak-and-dagger style. It was what he had done in the past after all. As far as he was concerned though, that was not going to work for him. He had promised Sophia to put all of that behind him, new life or not. Fortunately, it seemed that his attributes told a different story. His high cognition ¡ª which he assumed was analogous to intelligence ¡ª and willpower would seem to favor a caster-type build. This resonated with him far more. Also, If he was going to a fantasy world, he was going to use magic. No question about it. He had seen some pretty interesting abilities in that list and he was going to have at least one of them. Although ¡­ Dante hesitated, remembering an incident that occurred a few years prior. It had been about four years earlier, he had just gotten out of his latest stint in prison and was trying to get his act together for once. After all, as his sister had reminded him, next time they would try him as an adult. He had been playing his first campaign in Demesnes & Daemons and it had been one of the first times he had met Raymond, who had originally been Sophia¡¯s friend. Dante had decided to play a wizard and even back then, he liked to optimize. That is to say that he maxed every stat involved in spellcasting at the expense of everything else. Dante had done this despite the many, many warnings that he had been given. It had been a few sessions in and they were in their first dungeon. They had been beaten and battered and had just reached the boss''s lair. The villain, a necromancer, had cast a fireball straight into their midst. He had failed his save due to having low dexterity and it had utterly vaporized him. Literally. Near full health to ashes in a moment. The rest of the party had been fine. He still remembers staring dumbly at the game board in utter silence before Ray slapped his back and said, ¡°That¡¯s rough, but no worries. We will get you right back into the fray.¡± Ray had then passed him a new character sheet. Some probably would have stormed out of the room, but for Dante ¡­ the stakes had just risen. From that point onward, he found every encounter to be more engaging as there was actual risk involved. Needless to say, his new character ¡ª a sorcerer ¡ª had much more constitution. The same core idea applied here, but the stakes were real this time. Dante had already died once and he had no desire for a repeat performance. He was not going to waste his second chance. Chapter 5 - Coming to Terms, Part 3 Becoming a spell caster meant that he would have to be vulnerable. He would likely have lower health, lower defenses, and his magic would take time and concentration to cast. While he was sure that there were types of magic that were good defensively, he had nowhere near enough information to build towards that. There was a reason that mages were often part of a party after all. There was no guarantee that he would have the space, resources, or talent to be a mage. That was assuming the fiction he was drawing from was accurate ¡­ Besides, he had to take into account the fact that he had no information about the other side. If he was fortunate, then he was going somewhere peaceful and no one knew he was coming. Then he could have all the time in the world to deal with all of this and make his decisions. Given his experience with the system so far, he was not optimistic about his chances. The disaster scenarios were just too numerous to account for. The one responsible for the summoning could be on the other side and they could have certain ideas about debts. Or perhaps he was about to be transported straight into the den of a monster. He could even be born again, which was horrifying for another reason entirely. All bets were off. No matter what the circumstance, he just had to make sure that he survived it. Everything else came later. There was also the fact that he was starting at level 1. This meant that he was at the absolute bottom of the food chain, so to speak. No matter how strong he was able to make himself, it would be meaningless if he went against something with a higher level. As for a general strategy ¡­ While he would love to create a hyper-focused build with synergies between every ability, it was far too risky. Especially given that the system seemed determined not to give him any information. The opposite strategy, trying to cover every base, was also not going to work. It was spreading himself too thin and was too reactive besides. Sure such a strategy wouldn¡¯t have a weakness, but it would always lose in some way to anything more focused. A balanced strategy would work best, though one weighted towards a theme. And that theme? Survival. Dante would withstand any test for a chance to return home. That would be enough for him. Besides, surviving is what he did. In his experience, there was one thing that trumped all others when it came to survival. Information. You had to be able to react to a threat to survive it after all. Conversely, noticing and getting the first strike on an enemy could end a battle before it even began. So increasing his perceptive ability would come first. Which reminded him ¡­ Dante focused his attention on the mysterious number again and was surprised. 8,130 It had dropped far faster than he had expected. Well, it was time to test if it related to how many skills or attributes he could take. Steeling himself, Dante placed his intent on the plus next to Perception. +1 to [Perception]. Dante didn¡¯t feel any different after this increase, but then again he didn¡¯t have a body. He quickly focused back on the number and found that it was still the same. The blinking pluses next to his attributes remained as well. It seemed he still had more points to distribute. Well, it¡¯s time to test the other side of that theory as well. When he had been scrolling through the ability list before, one of them had caught his attention early on. He was sure that he would not regret picking it up and that it would serve as a test nicely. [Sharpen Senses] acquired. Once again, there was no change either to the mysterious number or to his perception. After a quick scan through the first couple dozen ability list options, it didn¡¯t seem like any had disappeared. So it seemed like he was mistaken that the number did not represent the points that he could spend. Well, at least it meant that he could search the ability list for as long as he wanted. Well, for up until that number hit zero. If it was indeed a timer. There was a sudden distracting pulse from the edge of consciousness and Dante turned his attention towards it. He was happy to see that it was his friend from before, the one who he had been ¡®communicating¡¯ with before. Dante sent a pulse back, but the response seemed unchanged. After a period of listening, he realized that there was a pattern. It was Morse code, he was fairly sure ¡ª though he didn¡¯t understand it. It went something like: Long, 3 short, 4 long, 3 short, 2 long, 4 short, 2 long, and 4 short before repeating. Dante wasn¡¯t quite sure how to respond and just sent the same message back. Shortly after, the messages stopped. Perhaps his friend had given up on him. Which was a bit lonely, but he couldn''t blame them. It¡¯s not like they could have an actual dialogue. No two ways about it, Dante was going to have to sit back and search through this ability list for anything that fit his criteria. Given its apparent length, this was going to be an exercise in patience more than anything else. Good thing that he had a sixteen in willpower¡­
Dante had no idea how much time had passed at this point, but he was certain that he had gone through thousands of these abilities ¡ª perhaps even tens of thousands ¡ª and had not reached the end of the list. He doubted that there was an end. Though many of the abilities were worthless. Who would ever take [Perspire Adhesive] or [Mana to Cheese]? And he couldn''t ever see a use for [Sprout Fingers]. Nothing that would be worth that price anyway. Besides those, he had come to realize that there were, in fact, many many abilities that dealt with magic. They spanned from something as generic as [Basic Pyromancy Affinity] to the awe-inspiring [Chronomancy Savant]. There were even supportive abilities such as [Mana Battery], [Enhanced Mana Regen], and [Arcane Sight]. Dante had no idea how useful each of these was, but at least they confirmed that magic was going to be a thing in this new world. Dante was sorely tempted to buy one of them. What good was reincarnating in a magical world without magic of his own? But, he was a stranger to how magic worked. For all he knew, all spells required something beyond mana or were prohibitively expensive. That was without considering that he knew nothing of how important something like affinity was compared to mana regeneration. It was an exercise in futility even considering magic for the moment. The remaining abilities seemed ¡­ freakish to say the least. Many seemed to change how the body worked at its fundamental level, things like [Steel Bones] or [Pneumatic Muscle]. These had the advantage that they were the easiest to understand what they did. But on the other hand? Dante imagined vicious talons on his fingertips, thick scales sprouting from his skin, and seeing through extra eyes. All of which were abilities he had found on that list, a mere finger tap away. He shuddered. That would be a sacrifice that he did not want to make. Could Dante even call himself human after selecting something like that? Though, if he were to be honest with himself, the idea did not disturb him as much as he thought it would. Some of them seemed quite good. It would be easy to build synergies as well as it was quite clear what they would do. Though, he had no idea how the new world would react to such features. Humans were famously intolerant of anything different, even something as small as skin color. Dante had no desire to be a social pariah. So no extra limbs or anything that would be readily apparent at first glance. Some were just so obscure that he didn''t think he could justify picking them without more information. There was no possible justification for picking an ability like [Precognitive Hemetics]. Dante was not even sure where to start with that, though he was certain it had something to do with blood and the future.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. Though it was impossible for him to feel fatigued, Dante was quite sure he had hit his limit. He had been having to scroll back up the list and reread sections more and more. Continuing beyond this point would only see him forgetting viable options with no guarantee their replacement would be as good. It was time to choose. Now that Dante had upgraded his ability to notice incoming threats with [Sharpen Senses], he needed a response to said threats. He would be going with a strategy he was familiar with. If you can''t fight a threat, hide from it. Which, in turn, would assist him in ambushing any would-be attackers. Dante would never fight a fair fight if he could help it. With that in mind, he selected [Chameleon], then checked the list once again and still found it unchanged. Either I have a lot of selections available or I¡¯ve only picked weak abilities. Either way, it wouldn''t change things. Something would always go wrong and he would need to be prepared in case he was spotted. Dante¡¯s first instinct was to select something that would protect him, like [Impenetrable Skin]. But, after thinking it over, he instead selected [Split Second Reactions]. Hopefully, it would let him identify, react, and dodge threats. By his reckoning, it was better not to be hit at all. Especially when that blow could kill him in a single shot, defensive ability or not. Dante returned his attention to the list and was startled to find that there had been a change this time. The vast majority of the list was now greyed out. He attempted to select the aforementioned [Impenetrable Skin] but was unsuccessful. Guess my luck finally ran out. Which meant that this next ability was likely the final pick. Every ability that he had liked, and even the ones that he had been considering, was now off the table. Which meant it was back to the searching. Great. If only there was an option to ¡ª as soon as Dante formed the thought, the unavailable options disappeared. Well, at least there¡¯s that. If Dante was honest with himself, he wasn¡¯t sure how much list searching he had left in him. Just until the first option that doesn¡¯t sound awful, he promised himself. Then, he got to it.
Honestly, some of these would be more harmful than helpful, Dante thought while considering [Partial Self-Detonation]. Without mitigating powers, that one sounded like a good way to get yourself killed. Besides, it sounded extremely painful. Just about every ability at this price point had either been like this, with enormous drawbacks, or something only mildly useful. Currently, his favorite pick was [Mana to Water]. At least he wouldn¡¯t have to worry about dehydration with that. While Dante was wrestling with that decision, one other entry caught his eye that gave him pause. [Warding Flesh]. That sounded ¡­ promising? It was the first even vaguely defensive sounding option that he encountered ever since his options became limited. It wasn¡¯t quite clear what exactly it would ward against. Perhaps some form of magic? Dante recalled fantasy stories where wards were used in a magical sense. If it was the same case here, then the ability sounded useful. However, it sounded like it might make some change to his flesh, which was certainly not ideal. It was a risk for sure but, for whatever reason, he had a good feeling about this one. Before Dante could second guess himself, he locked it in. What''s the worst that could happen? [Warding Flesh] Acquired. The list abruptly closed and he found himself staring back at the character sheet, now complete with his new abilities and absent the [Selections Available] line. Seems like that''s the end of that. Dante was ¡­ not entirely disappointed. He had gotten a decent number of selections and he was mostly happy with the ones he got. There were a few glaring gaps that he would have liked to cover, like some sort of healing ability if he ever did get injured. Hopefully, he will get the chance to fix that later. Though I can partly fix that now, he thought while inspecting the pluses next to his attributes. Fortitude and constitution were a given. He was tempted to spend however many points he had on just them. Though a few endurance points would also be good, all of his other stats and abilities would be no good if he was too tired to use them properly. Perhaps a 3 fortitude, 3 constitution, 1 endurance ratio? It would certainly work well enough for this first level-up, he just hoped he had enough. Hopefully, he wasn¡¯t making a massive mistake here. Bracing himself, Dante put one point into those three attributes. +1 to Fortitude. +1 to Constitution. +1 to Endurance. Seems like I still have more. +2 to Fortitude. +2 to Constitution. Oh, I still have more? Well certainly not going to complain about that. Maybe I have more than I thought? +1 to Fortitude. Immediately after placing that last point, the [+] next to his attributes disappeared. Shouldn¡¯t have gotten my hopes up ¡­ Immediately after he had that thought a small window popped up over his [Status] which simply read: [60] As he watched it ticked down to 59, then 58. This at least, Dante was sure, was a timer. Likely one that counted down until the beginning of his new life. That ¡­ was not a lot of time to prepare himself. Less so, now that Dante realized that he hadn¡¯t yet thought about what he was going to do when he got there. Not that he had any idea what it was going to be like. All he could do was watch the clock count down and take one more look at his [Status]. 3 ¡­ 2 ¡­ 1 ¡­ Initializing Dimensional shift.
Name: Dante Embry Race: Human Class: Unclassed Level: 1 Attributes
Alacrity 9 Endurance 14
Charisma 6 Fortitude 15
Cognition 13 Perception 8
Constitution 15 Strength 7
Dexterity 12 Willpower 14
Skills
Brawl 2
Deception 1
Lock Picking 4
Logic 4
Menial Labor 3
Sleight of Hand 1
Stealth 2
Abilities
Chameleon 1
Sharpen Senses 1
Split Second Reaction 1
Warding Flesh 1
Traits
Fickle Fate MAX
Human Tenacity 4
Chapter 6 - Rude Awakening, Part 1 The instant the timer hit zero, Dante was elsewhere. Sensation returned in a burst and he was immediately overwhelmed. After that eternity in the void, even a breeze was sandpaper across his skin. There was an instant feeling of vertigo, then he impacted a sucking surface on his stomach. Dante gasped as he felt an immediate bracing cold and his mouth immediately filled with brackish water. The sweet taste of decay followed shortly after and he spit it out. He rose to his hands and knees, still coughing. The next breath was fortunately free of obstruction and all he could do was to greedily gulp down air. He remained like that for a good while, simply trying to bring his shaking body under control. During this time Dante came to a few simple realizations. He was quite naked, wet, and very cold. He realized that his spastic shaking had been replaced with shivers. Where in the hell have I been sent? Dante cracked open his eyes and observed his surroundings for the first time. He was currently resting at the bottom of a shallow pit that had unnaturally smooth sides, the bottom of which was already filling with dirty water. It was as if a perfect spherical part of the world had been deleted, which very well might have been what happened he realized. Even in the short time since he had come here the sides of the pit had begun to slump inwards in a slow-moving tide of mud. Dante looked upwards and realized that it was night. The stars above looked much like the ones back home with the exception that the moon was ¡­ shattered. A fact that was nearly immediately pushed to the back of his mind considering what else lay in that sky. Nearly half of it was taken up by a ¡­ web of sorts, made up of many many blue strands that stretched from horizon to stratosphere. Many of the threads formed smaller geometric formations which were framed by characters that were perfectly readable even from this distance. Furthermore, the formations were constantly shifting and forming new arrays with no pattern that he could discern. Despite it all, no section seemed to interfere with its neighbors. As if there was an order to the chaos. This had to be magic, at a scale that was almost dizzying to comprehend. Each of those strands had to be easily the size of a highway. In total, the construct had to be dozens of miles wide and extended far beyond the limits of his sight. The other side of the sky was no less impressive. Opposite the barrier, it seemed like the sky was bleeding fire. What appeared to be numerous small blazing stars trailing flames arced from somewhere unseen towards the barrier. As one of the stars neared the construct, there was an immediate reaction. The shifting of the barrier grew even more frenzied and the patterns ever more intricate. Spectral threads began to extend out from the barrier and weave together. In a matter of seconds, a much smaller barrier appeared to intercept the projectile right before it struck the first. There was an immediate bright flash and Dante was forced to look away, a large afterimage imprinted in his sight. He looked back just in time to catch the sparkling remains of the smaller barrier dissipating and a rolling sheet of flames spreading across the first. Though it bent at the point of impact, the barrier held. This same scene played out at dozens of locations across the barrier in the next few seconds, all except for one. The fireball struck as the sacrificial shield was still forming, scattering the arcane energies like wisps of fog, and impacted against the main barrier. There was a sound like a million windows shattering and Dante had to slap his hands over his ears. A section of the great barrier shattered and the fireball continued unopposed. Moments later, there was a muffled ¡®THWUMP¡¯ and an enormous plume of flames lit the sky. It wasn''t until he saw the fire reach the clouds that Dante realized the true scale of that blast. ¡°What the Hell?!¡± Never, even in his wildest dreams, had he imagined that he would be transported to ¡­ what had to be a war zone! If one of those blasts landed anywhere near him, there might not even be ashes left. Dante HAD to get out of there. Dante swallowed nervously and then forced his uncooperative limbs to stand. He slipped near immediately as the soft mud gave away and fell back onto his hands and knees. Resigned, he scrambled at the side of the pit on all fours and dug deeply into the loam. It was a constant struggle against gravity and the softness of the mud didn¡¯t offer solid handholds, but Dante eventually managed to get an arm over the lip of the pit and pull himself over. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. He immediately flopped onto his back and took deep breaths to calm his racing pulse. The mud seemed to accept him easily enough, but pulling anything from it took everything he had. Dante was sure that, if he wasn¡¯t careful, it might never let him go. Now that he was out of the pit, Dante was able to get his first good look at his surroundings. The first word that came to mind was desolation. There was no green here, only the same muddled browns and blacks. It was disorientating to the eye as the landscape seemed to follow no natural patterns. Just many craters of various sizes and the ruins of what appeared to be trenches. This stretched as far as his eye could see, which wasn¡¯t that far, given the sheets of rain that continued to blanket everything. Dante would not be surprised if he had been transported to hell. Now what? He had to go somewhere, this area wasn¡¯t even slightly safe. Just, did he go to the barrier or where the spells were originating? Or perhaps he should take his chances and try to walk through this no man''s land? From an immediate danger perspective, going away from the explosions seemed like the better idea, but he just had no idea if the spell throwers would be friendly towards him. Then again, he had no guarantee that ¡­ Motion in the corner of his eye caught his attention and he looked up to see that a new barrage of spells had begun. Now that he was a little more calm Dante was able to spot that, while certainly the most visible, the fireballs were not the only spells being thrown. There was also what appeared to be a small mountain careening through the air as well as a spear of utter darkness that seemed to absorb all light. Which is just wonderful. One of these spells in particular, a glowing orb that crackled and snapped with large bolts of energy, caught his attention and Dante squinted at it. This one was lower than the others and time seemed to slow as he traced its path. It was coming this way. Dante staggered to his feet and began taking sucking step after sucking step towards the nearest trench. It was agonizingly slow and he was still a few steps away from the trenches edge when he felt every single one of his hairs stand on end. He threw himself into it with everything he had. Mid-air, he was caught by a wave of scorching air which pushed him farther than he expected and straight into the back wall of the trench. He impacted on his side and all breath whooshed out of him as he fell to the bottom. Before he could begin to recover, a wave of glowing light round the corner of the trench to his left and rushed towards him. It looked as if the neon from a sign had leaked out and lightning arced from the glowing tide. All Dante could do before the wave reached him was cover his face and close his eyes. He screamed as his left arm lit up with pain. It was as if a molten rod had been inserted into his arm and Dante convulsed, bending backwards as lightning flowed through his veins. He would have screamed had his jaws not been locked together. The heat was almost a secondary concern, though he swore he could feel his flesh crack. Then it was over and Dante collapsed back to the ground. He opened his eyes and gave himself a once over, fearful of what he might find. His skin was a bright angry red, as if he had suffered the worst sunburn of his life. On his forearm was a large black patch from which blood began to drip. Emanating out from this mark was a strange fractal network of bright red scars that climbed towards his chest, still steaming. He tried to flex the arm and, aside from a jerky shudder, failed. Dante ran a trembling hand over it and felt the carbonized hairs there flake to dust. A quick brush through his hair revealed a bald scalp. He felt like a plucked and roasted chicken, a thought that drew a gasping laugh out of him. His cackles echoed down the trench, utterly incongruous with the constant background of explosions. He couldn¡¯t help himself, this was complete and utter bullshit. He should have died there ¡ª he was surprised he hadn''t. Why had he been rescued from death and imbued with power only to be thrown into a meat grinder? Was whatever had rescued him observing like some kid with a magnifying glass, observing him as he tried to avoid the beam? Whatever the reason, it was clear to him now that he was on his own in a brutal world that was currently doing its best to kill him. A not-so-distant explosion drowned out his humorless laughter and provided a stark reminder of his circumstances. Dante couldn¡¯t stay in this trench forever, no matter how much he wanted to. He staggered to his feet with his wounded arm hanging by his side and took a deep breath. First, he should take stock of himself to see if he had more injuries. Dante began examining his body, looking for any obvious bruising and feeling for any pain. Almost immediately he stopped and raised his right hand with its 5 fingers before his disbelieving eyes. Trembling, he curled them into a fist and reveled in the sensations of his renewed ring and little fingers. It had been a fair few years since he had lost them doing that slaughterhouse job and Dante had almost forgotten what that felt like, though the phantom pain had done its best to remind him. At least the compensation money had been good. A theory occurred to him and he sat down to look at the bottom of his foot. Yep, that scar from when he had accidentally stepped on broken glass was gone. The slight crook in his arm from when he had broken it was also gone. Dante checked every old injury that he could remember and found that they had healed without exception. There was no other conclusion, he had come to this world completely healed. It was hard to describe what he was feeling right now, but at least some of it was gratitude. For the second chance and the miracle cure. On the other hand ¡­ He gazed at his burnt and limp left arm. Complicated indeed. Chapter 7 - Rude Awakening, Part 2 He wasn¡¯t going to waste this chance. Dante had spent long enough taking stock, it was time to get moving. He rose from his seated position and began scanning his surroundings. Now that he had a chance to look more closely at it, this trench was much more well-appointed than he had originally thought. It was formed of an oddly smooth stone colored the same mud brown that everything here was. There were crenelations at the top, a ridge along the outward-facing wall where one could step up to be head level with ground, and a channel at the bottom where the constant rain collected in a fast-flowing trickle. It was marred only by infrequent cracks that increased towards the rightmost section, which twisted out of sight. After glancing around the corner, Dante realized that the entire trench wounded back and forth like a snake. He walked over to the outward-facing wall, stepped up, and peaked over. Facing him was where the barrage of that magic had come from and behind him was the barrier shield. The trench appeared to run a straight line between the two sides, though he was substantially closer to the shield. Which likely meant that this entire trench system was made by the barrier side. Maybe there would be some other side-passages that would lead towards that barrier? If Dante had to choose one of the two sides it would be the one that hadn¡¯t tried to kill him yet, however accidental. One thing was certain, he was going to stay inside of the limited protection of these trenches as long as he could. But before that, his attention drifted down to the corner of his vision where he had just noticed a blinking mail icon. It was nearly straight out of an MMORPG interface. Whatever made all of this has to have taken inspiration from Earth. It¡¯s just too much of a coincidence. With a thought, it expanded and text appeared in front of his vision. [Enhanced Senses] has advanced to Level 2. [Split Second Reactions] has advanced to Level 2. [Warding Flesh] has advanced to Level 2. [Warding Flesh] has advanced to Level 3. Well, that was an unexpected although welcome surprise. Given what Dante had just experienced, he was going to need every advantage just to survive. He honestly had not noticed when these abilities helped him. Although, there was that one moment when he had first spotted the spell that had seemed to last abnormally long ¡­ And he had spotted the spell before it hit him too ¡­ Perhaps they were passively helping him? Dante opened his character sheet and frowned as immediately noticed a few differences.
Name: Dante Embry Race: Human Class: Unclassed Level: 1 Attributes
Alacrity 9 Endurance 14 (17)
Charisma 6 Fortitude 15
Cognition 13 Perception 9
Constitution 15 Strength 7
Dexterity 12 Willpower 14
Skills
Brawl (Common) 2
Deception (Common) 1
Lock Picking (Uncommon) 4
Logic (Rare) 4
Menial Labor (Common) 3
Sleight of Hand (Uncommon) 1
Stealth (Uncommon) 2
AbilitiesIf you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.
Chameleon (Rare) 1
Sharpen Senses (Uncommon) 2
Split Second Reaction (Rare) 2
Warding Flesh (Unique) 3
Traits
Fickle Fate (Unique) MAX
Human Tenacity (Racial) 4
4589
He had rarities now? That would have been much more useful back when he was picking abilities ¡­ though the current ones did just keep him alive he couldn¡¯t be too unhappy. Dante even had two Uniques, which he supposed meant that he was the only one who had them. Usually rarer was better so that was something. Dante frowned as a thought struck him. Then why had [Warding Flesh] been so cheap? That wasn¡¯t even the only mystery, his endurance had a 17 next to it. Was he getting boosted by something? Also, that same mysterious number had followed him to this new life. Dante was all out of guess for what that could be. Just what did it mean that it was redacted? There was a muffled BOOM, much closer than he would have liked, and a few of the cracks in the stone of the trench yawed a little wider and water began leaking from them. Dante sheepishly closed his status. That was getting to be a bad habit. He promised himself not to check it again until he was safe. Dante began to shuffle down the trench, cradling his limp arm and peaked cautiously around that first corner. Two empty sockets peaked out of a ghastly visage just inches away from his face and he yelped. Instinctively, he punched the grinning skull with his good hand. The jawbone came loose and bounced across the ground with a rattling sound and Dante realized that he was facing a weather-worn skeleton. The corpse swayed and he realized that the skeleton had been pinned to the wall via the broken shaft of a spear that had been driven through its chest. Aside from that, there was no further movement. It was just a corpse. Dante sagged against the wall and took a few deep breaths to try and calm his racing heart. After everything he had been through in these few short minutes, for some reason this had unnerved him the most. Perhaps the situation was catching up to him or maybe it was because it was a stark reminder of what awaited him if he messed up. Hell, he had probably left a corpse just like that not too long ¡­ which is something that he definitely should not be thinking about right now. He studied the corpse, hoping that he could glean something from it that could distract him from such musings. Well, Dante supposed it was confirmation enough that there were humans in this world. At least it looked pretty human to him. Which meant that the barrier people likely had humans amongst their ranks, so he wouldn¡¯t stand out so much. It was pretty likely that this was a soldier given its rusted chest piece, ripped quilted jacket, and stained baggy pants. It had the look of a uniform, though certainly not anything he recognized. It kind of reminded him of the Swiss guard, though with muted colors. Dante looked at his shivering and naked body, then at the corpse. He noted that the clothes appeared waterproof, mostly whole, and only a little soaked in ¡­ juices. Dante tried not to think about that while removing the soldier¡¯s boots. It¡¯s either this or freezing to death. Whoever this was certainly wasn¡¯t using it anymore. Dante was able to get the boots and pants off easily enough and gave them a quick rinse in the channel at the bottom of the trench. Pulling them on, Dante found that they were large on him but was able to repurpose the shoelaces as a belt. The main trouble came when he attempted to get the shirt and coat off, as they were pretty firmly kept in place by the spear. Dante attempted to pull the spear out of the stone but it didn¡¯t even move. Eventually, he just pulled the skeleton itself off the spear and found It was much lighter than expected. As he was setting the body down onto the ground, he noted that the spearhead was fully submerged in the stone along with an indeterminate amount of shaft. Whoever had done this, they were far stronger than anything mortal. Dante cleaned the coat and undershirt the best he could before suppressing while trying not to gag. It had not been enough, these clothes still reeked and he did his best to not breathe through his nose. While not exactly warm at the moment, he was at least protected from the wind. He was honestly surprised that he was not worse off, usually this level of exposure would have crippled him by this point. Perhaps this was his new constitution and fortitude score at work? He inclined his head towards the nameless soldier as walked past and muttered a quick, ¡°Thanks,¡± before he was on his way. Then he was off down those coiling halls, keeping an eye out for any turns that would lead closer to the barrier. Which he did find almost immediately. Almost entirely too many in fact. They came quite regularly in pairs and were slanted to the primary trench. Without exception, they were all very short, only a few dozen feet. Dante imagined that it made the trench system look like a zipper from above. He could not fathom why these trenches had been built this way, but it was very frustrating for him. Anyone''s spirits would drop the hundredth they looked down an intersection only to find yet another dead end. This is not to say that Dante had not found other things between the intersections, but they were equally useless. Nearly all of the exceptions turned out to be underground rooms, only one of which was not entirely collapsed. It was also empty aside from a few empty and cobwebbed crates. The floor was also submerged in a few inches of water. There were no other passages from the room, so he continued. The only other notable thing that he found was the entranceway to what he was pretty sure was an underground tunnel of some sort. It was hard to tell, as it was nearly entirely collapsed save for a small hole at the top that he could hardly fit the flat of his hand through. Looking through it revealed nothing but darkness and loose stones, so that way was likely a no-go. It was hard to keep track of time in the constant downpour that showed no sign of stopping, but Dante was sure that it had been a few hours since he first came here. Aside from that first body that he had come across, he found no other corpses. It was quite eerie just how little was in these trenches. No tools, no other furniture, not even trash. It was utterly cleaned out, giving the entire space a near-liminal feel. It was grating on Dante¡¯s nerves. He continued through trenches that were quickly all starting to look the same aside from one key difference. It seemed like they were becoming more and more ruined as he traveled on. Some sections had partially collapsed, leading to a flood of soil that he had been forced to scramble over. Which led him to this moment, where he was now facing an utterly blocked section in front of him. Before, there had always been at least a little space or the collapsed portion wasn¡¯t quite flush with ground level. Neither case was true here, it was a dead end. Chapter 8 - Rude Awakening, Part 3 Dante chose to take a seat on one of the bigger pieces of rubble and kneaded his forehead with one fist. He had no desire to retrace his steps, but the fact that everything was showing more signs of battle as time went on was not encouraging. An opinion that was supported by the increasing frequency of explosions. At least he wasn¡¯t too badly out of breath. Before, he wasn¡¯t sure he could have kept up this pace for this long. Now, he was just winded. At least the exertion had somewhat dried the inside of the clothes, though the stench remained. That didn¡¯t mean that he was in perfect condition, he remained unable to even move his injured arm. He could feel that his ill-fitting boots had already caused blistering and was beginning to feel the opening twinges of hunger as well. The journey back was likely to make all of these worse. Perhaps there is an alternative way? Dante scanned his memory of the last hours, though he was not hopeful. The best route he could think of had been that collapsed tunnel a bit back. If he spent some time moving the rocks, then perhaps he could reveal the passageway. Though he wasn¡¯t too confident about traveling in a tunnel that had already collapsed once. Besides, it was likely it was blocked on the other end. Dante was beginning to suspect that all of the collapses had been at least somewhat intentional. After all, why would you want the trenches you lost to connect to the ones still under control? Why would you want to provide safe shelters to the enemy? They could even be used as staging grounds against their builders. He eyed the pile of rubble that blocked him from further progress. Perhaps he was too quick in discounting going over that. Dante just needed to know if what lay on the other side was worth the risk of exposing himself to everything that raged above. If only he had a way to hide himself. Wait a minute. Dante summoned his status with a thought and gazed at the only ability he had not used yet. [Chameleon]. He had no idea how to use it of course. Though if his experience was anything to judge by then as soon as wanted to use ¡ª it was as if he had suddenly discovered how to breathe again. An entire new sensation opened to him, one that encompassed all of his skin. Something triggered and when Dante looked down at his hand, saw that a distinct grey-brown tinge had crept into his skin. Well, that had been about what he expected. Dante noted that the change was quite slow. Maybe about half a minute until he could see no further change. He was displeased to see the change stopped at his skin and did not affect his clothes. All he had managed to do in the end was make his face and hands a little less obvious. Fortunately, they were already the omnipresent brown that this entire world seemed to be made of. He held up one hand to the water rushing in the small channel in the middle of the trench and concluded that it was a few shades off. Dante just couldn¡¯t help but think that he could have accomplished a better transformation with a generous coating of mud. Maybe it would get better at higher levels? With a start, he realized that his breathing had started to get heavy again and released the ability. Unlike before the ¡®trigger¡¯ lurked in the background of his mind, ready to be activated again with but a thought. In maybe a minute of use that ability had tired him out just as much as the entire hike had, which wasn¡¯t great. He slammed his fist against his thigh and tried to keep his frustration contained. Guess it would have been too much to hope that it would be useful. Regardless, It would have to work. Dante gave himself a short break to steady his breathing before getting up and beginning to climb the pile of stone fragments that blocked the trench. He stumbled a few times as handholds gave away ¡ª honestly, the entire pile seemed less stable than he liked ¡ª but eventually made it near the top where he paused. Bracing himself he activated [Chameleon], gave it a dozen seconds until it mostly finished darkening, and then climbed the rest of the way up while keeping low. Once his head peaked above the ground, Dante gave the area a brief scan and cursed. This area of wasteland was even more devastated than before if it was possible. The terrain was pretty much nothing but craters overlapping craters. The barrage of spells was even thicker here, pretty much constant. Worst of all, there was no continuation to the trench in front of him, just a line of disturbed mud and stone that disappeared into the rain. But ¡­ There was a long ditch just in front of him that pierced the trench and ran to the barrier shield ¡ª which he excitedly realized that he was rather close to now. At the end of the ditch, pressed up against the shield, was the biggest crater that he had seen yet. From all of this, he concluded that one of the more exotic spells had over-penetrated the trench until it had smashed into the barrier and detonated. It was distinctly different from the other craters he had seen. For one, the dirt in this one had been turned into an opaque whitish material that reminded Dante of quartz. It seemed rather hard, as it had escaped the relentless pull of the mud so far and its cross section was nearly perfectly circular. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. He was just about to climb back down to safety to reconsider his options when a bolt of inspiration struck him. Perhaps he could use this to finally get to the shield? It was the most direct pathway and it was somewhat shielded by being below the ground level. Besides, what were the chances that they would aim at the same place twice? Mind made up, Dante used the slight cover from the rubble filling the trench to climb the rest of the way up in relative safety. He dropped into his stomach and began crawling towards the intersection of the collapsed trench and the crystal ditch. It was an uncomfortable journey over jagged stones and he was grateful all over again for the coat from the dead soldier. It was a longer journey than Dante would have thought, especially given that he stopped multiple times whenever one of the apocalyptic spells passed a little too close for his comfort. By the time he reached the crystal ditch, he was breathing pretty hard and covered in grime. Alarmingly, the earth next to the channel was warm to the touch and he questioned just how long ago the channel had been made. Dante forcibly put those concerns aside, he was simply too far to back off now. Dante sat up and swung his legs over the side, then let himself drop. He skidded on his rear and hands down the dozen or so feet towards the bottom. As Dante was struggling to keep straight, he slammed his uninjured hand down and felt something catch on his palm right before reaching the bottom. He had been doing pretty well at keeping his balance until he encountered the nearly invisible pool of water that was at the bottom. Caught off guard at the unexpected resistance, he found himself pitching forward and slammed into the surface of the pool. Dante resurfaced sputtering and climbed back to his feet. Where he had landed the water had turned brown but farther away, where it was not yet tainted, it was hard to tell that water even was there. It was crystal clear. So clear that he had not noticed it from the top. A splotch of red in the water caught his attention and he followed the trail to where it was dripping from his hand. He raised it to his eye and saw that he had a pretty deep gash across the palm. It seemed like this crystalline material had some sharp edges, he would have to be careful about that. As if I didn¡¯t have enough problems. He tucked the bleeding hand under his armpit and took a step, then nearly jumped when there was a tinkling crack. It was a lot louder than he would have liked, echoing off the hard walls into the distance. Another step, another crack. This plan was going swimmingly so far. Dante began to splash through the water as quickly as he was able, disregarding any noise that he was making. It wasn¡¯t like he had any chance of being stealthy anyway, what with the constant sound of shattering crystals. The entire time, he kept his vision locked on the dimly glowing magic shield that was not that far off like a drowning man straining for the surface. He felt so incredibly drained moving through that thigh-high water while keeping up the ¡­ oh right. Once he turned off [Chameleon], it immediately became much easier. He continued his uncomfortable journey with slightly renewed vigor, only a few dozen steps away from his goal when he heard a faint whistling noise. The hair on the back of his neck prickling, Dante turned around just in time to witness a ball of fire the size of a truck hurtle over the channel close to the trench. It passed so close that it left red hot rock in its wake. Time slowed and Dante hurled himself forward and dived into the water, reaching the bottom in an instant. Then there was a mighty boom and all volume ceased as intense pain wracked his ears. The world lit up around him and he watched through the water as a sheet of fire descended into the channel. The liquid separating them instantly flashed to steam. He opened his mouth to scream as he began to be boiled alive. Then he was flying through the air, head over heels, for a concerning amount of time. It was brought to an end when his back impacted something with a sickening crunch that he more felt than heard. Shortly after, gravity reasserted itself and he fell to the ground with only a slightly less painful impact. Dante attempted to take a deep breath and came up coughing, then spit something up. By the metallic taste of it, he was fairly confident that it was blood. All he could hear was a slight ringing sound, but he felt an intense vibration somewhere behind him. Opening his eyes, he saw that just above his head only a scant few feet away was the barrier. He reached out with one hand to touch it. It was like ice, slick and slightly electric. But utterly solid. Because of course it was. Dante let the arm fall to the ground and focused on trying to breathe deeply as whatever he was currently doing didn¡¯t seem to be working. A blur of movement caught his attention and he blinked his eyes back into focus to see an armored hand emerging from the barrier. It was quickly followed by a shield attached to a forearm and a sword, a horned helmet, and then a black armored humanoid body. Dante could swear that in the depths of that armor lay stars, though may have been delirium speaking. The figure circled to his side and crouched down next to him, its large shield positioned to cover both of them. With one cold hand, it cupped his head and angled him towards it. In its face lay two large lenses that gazed back at him like the open holes of a skull. Dante tried to speak, but only a faint grown emerged from his lips. The figure bent further and tilted its head so that its ear was but a few inches away. He tried again. ¡°Please ¡­ help ¡ª¡± A fit of coughing interrupted him, taking the last of his strength from him and he went limp. When something was pressed to his lips, he nearly choked as a trickle of fluid ran into his mouth. He quickly adapted and did his best to drink it down, though a good portion had run out of the corners of his mouth. What had made into him felt like fire in his stomach, and brought with it a profound feeling of drowsiness which he yielded to gladly. He only stirred briefly as two cold metal hands picked him up. His last sensation was a gentle rhythm that he thought might have been walking. Chapter 9 - Chance Encounter, Part 1 Ahzi never liked making this trip, but she always made sure to watch the lands as they scrolled past the Landships window. She considered it a civil duty. The verdant lands of the W?l province, tended to by the occasional honored [Cultivator], were especially beautiful at this time of year. They passed golden bushel after bushel of Aureate Wheat, enough to feed the nation and more. At least for the moment. Soon after, they passed the first crater. It was a small thing, the Landship likely could have passed over it with nary a bump. However, the burnt stalks around it as well as the diseased crops further beyond that told a different tale. Some few brave workers still operated here, even though there had been casualties amongst their number. It wasn¡¯t long until they passed another such crater and another. Soon, there was no green. Only dead yellows and brown. In the distance, just coming into view, was Ohsen W?l. The Great Bulwark of W?l. Ahzi sucked in a breath and struggled to keep her expression dignified. Only a scant few cycles before, the fields had continued far beyond this point. The front was moving and at this speed ¡­ She stiffened as she felt a hand close on her shoulder and knew that she had failed to keep her composure. Tempted as she was to keep the mask up, she instead put her hand on top of her companions. If she couldn¡¯t be herself here, then she couldn¡¯t relax anywhere. ¡°You couldn¡¯t have changed any of this Princess,¡± said Syluv who brought another hand up to Ahzi¡¯s other shoulder and began tracing comforting circles on her shoulder blades. ¡°I could have been here!¡± Ahzi gestured generally at the devastation. ¡°Fighting for the motherland amongst my people. If I had been here ¡­ perhaps we wouldn¡¯t have lost so much.¡± The last bit came out as a whisper. ¡°Come now Princess, you know that was never in the cards. The Queen needed you at her side. Ordered it even,¡± said Syluv, who began to dig deeper into her shoulders. Ahzi snorted. ¡°Oh please, she needed me? Mother? As if any of those Summer Orchids at court would dare defy her? I doubt any of them have even seen a battle outside of the arena. They would wilt the moment they met her gaze.¡± Syluv''s massage crept into her mid back and Ahzi made a soft groan of approval and felt tension drain away. That was the spot. ¡°I think, Princess, that the Queen needs you more than you think. The throne is a lonely seat and it¡¯s not like your father''s talents lie in that direction. One woman, however strong, cannot stand alone against the world.¡± Ahzi tried to think of a good retort, but nothing immediately came to mind. After a good few minutes, in which she simply enjoyed the massage, she was forced to admit she didn¡¯t have any good ones. ¡°Well, next time I am not going. As much as your words ring true, she is but one person. I cannot abandon our comrades again as next time ¡­¡± Ahzi paused to take a deep breath. ¡°Next time I wouldn¡¯t have to travel to reach the front lines at all.¡± Syluv hummed a quiet assent as she concluded the massage and walked forward to stand next to her. ¡°You are like the Rozenov Cactus Rose, Princess.¡± Ahzi blinked and tried to parse that statement before retorting: ¡°Dangerous to her enemies yet beautiful all the same?¡± Ahzi turned and favored Syluv with direct eye contact. Usually, Syluv¡¯s features were locked into one of professional nonchalance, but when they were alone it crept towards what Ahzi considered its natural state. Radiant and smiling which, when coupled with her less-than-average height, was quite adorable. It was unusual for a Naula, though that added to the charm in her opinion. Not that Ahzi had ever told that to her face, it would ruin her pride. ¡°Ah, the Princess has such a high opinion of herself. As she should. Alas, I was thinking ¡®prickly¡¯ more than anything else.¡± Syluv¡¯s features took on an impish cast as Ahzi gasped. ¡°Take that back!¡± she demanded and Syluv shook her head and laughed. After a moment, Ahzi joined her. Their laughter was interrupted a few moments later when there was a loud single knock at the door. Ahzi wasn¡¯t surprised, she had felt the presence of their guest approaching for a good while with [One With The Realm]. By the looks of it, Syluv had also intuited that with her own lesser ability. Ahzi smiled sadly at her friend, ¡°Duty calls.¡± She schooled her face and posture into a form more befitting her station. Opposite her, Syluv was doing the same. Becoming her treasured attendant once again. ¡°Let our guest in if you would, Syluv.¡± As she began making her way over to the door of the bedroom, Syluv withdrew a fan from the depths of her [Treasury] and unfolded it in one smooth motion to cover her face. She resumed her previous position by the balcony and gazed off into the distance. The Landship had begun preparations for landing. The door clicked open to admit Moeris, her other attendant. She didn¡¯t need her ability to picture his grim and hard-edged face nor the fact that he had assumed a parade-perfect salute. Such habits were deeply ingrained into the man. ¡°Princess.¡± His voice was as flat and sharp as an unsheathed blade, not that she held it against him. She was pretty sure that he couldn¡¯t help himself. He continued in his customary blunt manner, ¡°We have arrived at the front. You are required.¡±Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! Ahzi turned, using her fan to shield the lower parts of her face, and kept her eyes forward as if gazing at an unseen horizon. She swept past Moeris into the hallway and her two attendants followed in her wake. ¡°What is on the agenda today, Moeris?¡± She kept up a good pace, passing many portholes and a few workers who were tinkering with various knobs and levers. Without exception, each stood up and gave her a salute, left arm over the chest and one hand behind the back, and gave her their full attention until she was out of sight. ¡°First, we shall visit an infirmary. I am told that the assault last night on this part of the front was especially vicious and they are at capacity. I am sure a visit from you will raise morale amongst the troops.¡± There was the shuffling of paper as Moeris paged through a schedule. ¡°Then, you shall meet with General Omn¨± to discuss the Queen''s orders and your ¡­ place in them.¡± A tinge of disapproval leaked into his voice in that pause, which didn¡¯t surprise her. Moeris was her mother''s creature through and through. ¡°After that, it was left up to your discretion.¡± Ahzi¡¯s step hitched, a crack in her otherwise flawless facade. Fortunately, with her attributes, it would likely be imperceptible to everyone except her attendants. ¡°That¡¯s unusually generous of Mother,¡± she said carefully. By this point, they had reached the staircase to the top deck and began to ascend. ¡°Would you have followed them if they didn¡¯t send you to the front lines?¡± She stayed quiet and Moeris seemed to take it as a tacit emission and continued, ¡°Consider it a test of your judgment.¡± Or she was just tired of me disobeying her orders so publicly, Ahzi mused. Either way, it was a welcome reprieve. ¡°I shall endeavor to make the Queen proud,¡± she said carefully. She could have sworn she heard a snort from Moeris¡¯s direction but subsequent scanning of his visage revealed nothing. She must have imagined that, as she had never seen him crack even a smile. She stopped at the top of the ramp for a moment and surveyed her surroundings. The dock had been built into the side of an artificial dirt mound that was large enough that it offered complete protection to its inhabitants from stray shots. Aside from that, it just was an open dirt field where the Landships could set down. Theirs was not the only Landship docked, though it certainly was the largest. There were about half a dozen others. All except for one were cargo haulers and that one exception was a sleek courier craft. None looked in great condition, all had rends in the plating that had been patched over with scrap metal and one even had its wind manifold in pieces. As for the camp, it looked much the same as it always did. Row upon and row of tents, once dyed in the heraldry of Verune and now too travel worn to tell. Around its perimeter stood a twenty-foot-tall transmuted stone wall, as per military code. In the distance, she could smell the scent of freshly spilled blood and, much closer, the rusty stench of old wounds paired with the acrid tinge of herbs. Following her nose, she saw an especially large tent from which she could see green-robed healers entering and exiting. That would likely be the aforementioned infirmary. Well, best to get this over with. The crew had already lowered the ramp, as they were well familiar with her desire for haste. A greeting contingent had gathered at the bottom and Ahzi moved to meet them. All saluted and one well-dressed young woman, her livery indicated that she was a Major, stepped forward. ¡°First Princess Ahzi, it is our ¡ª¡± She cut the woman off with one raised hand, then waved the greeting party to the side. ¡°Walk with me,¡± she commanded and waited for them to file behind her before setting off for the healer''s tent. ¡°Except you,¡± Azhi said while inclining her fan at the representative and then waited for the women to hasten beside her. ¡°Major?¡± She trailed off questioningly. ¡°Sovah Tal, your majesty.¡± Said the Major, taking a place just to her side and slightly behind. ¡°Major Tal, brief me on the current conditions at the front.¡± There was a pause and Ahzi could see indecision peaking through cracks in the women''s front as she visibly contemplated how to respond. ¡°Your Highness, I am sure that General Omn¨± could provide a much better ¡ª¡± ¡°But I do not want General Omn¨±''s opinion, I want yours. Give it to me straight soldier.¡± Her commanding tone seemed to strike a chord in Tal, who seemed to give the question some genuine thought. ¡°It¡¯s bad, your Highness,¡± she said quietly. ¡°We¡¯ve been losing ground every day, there are no mid-ranks left, and our remaining high ranks are forced to fight defensively. After all, if we lose another ¡­¡± Major Tal trailed off and gave her a meaningful look. Ahzi hummed to herself as she considered her words. It was about what she expected, though some weak part of her had hoped that things had changed since her departure. It was the crux of the issue and none save her, the Queen, and the common soldiery seemed to acknowledge it. Azhi had some ideas about how to alleviate the issue, but General Omn¨± refused to even see the problem. If it wasn''t for the man''s other skills and his class, then she would have demanded he be removed. Seeing the healer''s tent approaching, Ahzi decided she should probably focus on her immediate task. She spread her enhanced senses into the tent and was immediately shocked at what she had found inside. It was just about bursting with patients, far more than she had ever seen in her time at the front. It wasn''t just the number of wounded that was unusual, but the degree. Amputated limbs were common, and some more resembled tallow candles than anything human. ¡°Just what happened in the attack last night?¡± Ahzi demanded and then reproached herself as Major Tal paled. She reigned in the effects of [Voice of the Empire], but it was too late and words began flowing out of the women. ¡°It was unlike anything I¡¯ve ever seen Princess. The number of Synergic spells that night,¡± the major shook her head, an expression of genuine amazement passing over it. ¡°It just about turned night into day. The amount of mana that must have been used ¡­ well it''s safe to say that the Ahsmati won''t put on a show like that for a while. It certainly drained our mages. Why they were just about throwing themselves at us! They wouldn¡¯t back ¡ª¡± ¡°Stop. You are babbling Major.¡± This time Ahzi intentionally put some power into her voice and the Major''s jaw froze mid-speech. Mother would be disappointed in me. Major Tal found her voice again and said, ¡°I am so sorry Princess, I ¡ª¡± ¡°Do not worry yourself about it,¡± she commanded and the Major nodded, then fell silent. By this point, they had reached the tent and a pair of guards at the entrance lifted the flap. Sensing the condition of those inside through a skill was one thing, but seeing them with her own eyes was quite another. There was a constant chorus of pained groans, the reek of sweat and blood, and the occasional glow of healing magic. Noise which quieted down as all eyes found her. Chapter 10 - Chance Encounter, Part 2 Ahzi reached for [Light of the Empire] and lit up with a brilliant internal glow. Ghostly white flames enveloped her form, then reached for those closest to her. The soldiers looked upon her reverently, unmoving, and so they were engulfed in the flame. Each conflagration was short-lived and after the flames extinguished was left flawless skin. Burns turned a healthy pink, gashes that showed bone closed, and the amputated limbs became seamless stubs. The last always filled her with a profound sense of sorrow, that she could not heal what was already gone. As she walked stately down the improvised lanes of the tent, Moeris drew close and murmured quietly enough that only someone with her senses could hear: ¡°Is this wise Princess? To weaken yourself so close to the battlefield?¡± Ahzi arched one eyebrow from behind her fan and replied just as silently, ¡°I shall be fully recovered long before even my meeting with Omn¨±.¡± She could feel Moeris wringing his hands, ¡°But, this leaves you vulnerable and if there are any ¡ª¡± ¡°But nothing Moeris,¡± she interrupted before the man could work himself up. ¡°We are in the middle of a war, in case you have forgotten. One we are losing. Risks must be taken and this one is small enough for the reward. Just look at the faces around us.¡± Where once there had been nothing but despondency in the eyes of the wounded now burned an intense zeal. Many gripped their weapons tightly and some tried to rise, only stopped by weary healers. Ahzi did not doubt that when they returned to the front, they would tell tales of what had happened here. ¡°Princess, General Omn¨± has requested you give a Circlet to the heavily injured soldier on your left.¡± Morris''s murmured voice reached her again and she sensed the Circlet being pressed into her hands, which she took gracefully. He continued while stepping back, ¡°She was the first to raise the alarm that the assault had begun and she suffered greatly for it.¡± Ahzi spotted the soldier, who was missing both of his legs and one eye ¡ª perhaps the most injured woman she had seen yet. None of which her flames cured, though they healed what would have otherwise taken months. Which is not to say that it would be impossible to heal such wounds, such medicine was scarce. She turned her attention inwards and queried [One with the Realm]. Corporal Raun Idress, guilty of one count of sleeping on duty, It whispered to Ahzi in her voice. She suppressed a shudder. She had always found the emotionless replica unnerving. Apparently that last infraction had been forgiven in light of this achievement, which Ahzi quite agreed with. Ahzi stopped their party in front of the soldiers'' cot and turned to face her. She favored the woman with a direct look, causing a sharp intake of breath and paleness from the soldier. The poor woman looked about ready to faint. ¡°Corporal Raun Idress,¡± Ahzi spoke with a commanding tone that carried to all corners of the tent, despite seeming to only be spoken at normal volume, ¡°The Empire has seen your exceptional sacrifice in the face of impossible odds. You are to be rewarded with the Os¨¡zi Circlet.¡± Ahzi took pleasure in seeing the woman''s guard drop and be replaced with wonder. It was moments like this that she looked forward to. It was a shame that they were few and far between. Moeris always made sure to set such occasions up when she visited the soldiery. For all of his flaws, he had always been thoughtful. Ahzi snapped the fan shut, allowing the woman an unobstructed view of her visage, and then presented her with the Circlet. Corporal Raun took it with trembling hands and then gave a salute the best she could from a resting position. Given the beaming look on her face, and the envious looks from her fellow soldiers, Ahzi counted this particular ploy as successful. ¡°I shall endeavor to prove myself worthy of this honor, your Highness!¡± Said the woman with an admirably unwavering voice. ¡°See that you do,¡± stated Ahzi as she snapped the fan open and continued her journey. As Ahzi neared the end of the tent, the drain on [Light of the Empire] fell off and then stopped. It was a welcome reprieve as she was just beginning to feel the effects of mana exhaustion. She was right about to exit the pavilion when she noticed something ¡­ strange. A man had looked away from her. This alone wasn¡¯t suspicious, there were certainly reasons for looking away. They could be doing something vitally important like the medics or simply had made a mistake. It did happen, and Ahzi was always forgiving of such displays. What was unforgivable and noteworthy was doing it twice. Or thrice, she amended, as she watched the man be distracted by the spectral flames playing across his flesh. The more time she spent observing him the more discrepancies she picked out. The cast of his features was foreign, reminding her of a Zalpurian ¡ª though that wasn¡¯t quite right. He was currently hairless, a common symptom at the front, but her enhanced vision was able to pick out stubble which was a matte gold-whitish color that she certainly hadn¡¯t seen before. His posture was all wrong, far too closed off. Ahzi had completely stopped by this point and turned towards the stranger, shielding her eyes with her fan. Her retinue milled behind her and she could feel her attendants exchange worried glances. Before the situation could devolve further, she motioned Major Tal back to her side. Once she had retaken her place by Ahzi¡¯s side, she redirected her finger towards the strange man and asked: ¡°Who is that?¡± The Major followed her finger, blinked at the man, and then a well-hidden look of dawning embarrassment spread across her face.The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. ¡°Ah yes, I meant to discuss that situation with you Princess.¡± Major Tal cleared her throat and then spoke as if reading from a report, ¡°This man was discovered by Corporal Rhea M¨¡no near the heart of yesterday''s battle. He was burned and broken, but enough remained of his clothing to identify it as our uniform. Usually, that would be the end of it, but there is the case of his looks ¡­ and his words.¡± ¡°His words?¡± Ahzi repeated as she led her entourage over. ¡°The Corporal had reported that he was speaking nonsense when she rescued him, but such behavior is not uncommon among the wounded so it wasn¡¯t seen as cause for concern. However, when he awakened he continued to speak his strange tongue. None of our healers here were able to recognize it and some learned their craft as far as Avlend.¡± By this point, their group had reached the man¡¯s cot. For the first time since she had entered the tent, he looked directly into her eyes ¡ª or would have had her fan not been in the way. She was shocked to see that his eyes were green, something that must have been the result of an [Ability] or [trait]. The stranger looked away a moment later and Ahzi had to discreetly signal Moeris or she sensed he would have struck the man. ¡°Surely there must be theories,¡± Ahzi stated while using her senses to analyze him. The general lack of calluses or scars indicated that he likely lived a life free of labor, which pointed to him being relatively wealthy. On the other hand, he was so scrawny that his ribs were visible and he was quite short to boot. Both of which were general indicators of poverty. His current state of petrification likely meant he was unused to the presence of nobility. ¡°There are two main ones, Princess. The first is simply that he was struck in the head and is quite mad. We get a few such cases each span.¡± Given the clearness she had glimpsed in his gaze as well as the fact that no other symptoms were present, Ahzi doubtful of this one. With her particular attributes, she was rarely ever wrong about things like this. ¡°The other is substantially more fanciful. A teleportation miscast.¡± Sensing perhaps her raised eyebrow, Major Tal hastened to finish. ¡°It may be near unheard of, but sometimes such accidents can safely deposit their target without any accidental ¡­ dismemberment or rearrangements.¡± Well, she could certainly put the second to rest. Ahzi reached once again for [One with the Realm], not expecting a response. However, she was pleasantly surprised when the ability activated. Dante Embry, born in the province of W?l. Wasn¡¯t that a surprise. While it wasn¡¯t quite as informative as the Queens, her skill was never wrong. This ¡®Dante¡¯ was born in the empire, probably descended from immigrants. It would explain the strange language, or perhaps the head injury was responsible after all. The question now is what to do with him? While she was considering the question, Moeris¡¯s voice reached her ears. ¡°Perhaps he could be a spy or saboteur?¡± It wasn¡¯t surprising that Moeris¡¯s thoughts went in that direction, it was his duty as a bodyguard. Though she thought it often made him inflexible as she doubted that any spy would stand out as much as this man had. Any spy worth their salt would do their best to fade into the background and avoid notice. Besides, this man was an open book to her. Either he had no social defenses or he far exceeded her level to fool her to this degree. This is not to say that no such individuals exist in the enemy''s ranks, just that they were exceptionally rare. As it was, Ahzi sensed no malice or deception in his body language, only anxiety and awkwardness. Still ¡­ it was better to be cautious and Ahzi saw no need to take a risk with this stranger. Right before she was about to deliver her verdict, Major Tal spoke up again. ¡°Ah! The reason we thought to bother Your Highness about this is that this man has a Unregistered Ability. Quite an unusual one as well.¡± That brought Ahzi up short. An Unregistered Ability? Why the last time that had happened had been well before she was born. If she remembered her history lessons correctly. Either the conditions to unlock it were extreme ¡­ or it was a high rarity. ¡°Explain.¡± She demanded of Tal who, in response, bent down to pick up a hand of dust under Ahzi¡¯s questioning eye. The Major then cast the dust over the stranger, who flinched and covered his eyes. About a hand''s breadth away from the stranger¡¯s outstretched hands, the dust seemed to strike and coat something invisible mid-air. It contoured around his limbs, almost like he was wearing bulky armor. It reminded her of the spell [Force Armor], though she hadn¡¯t detected any magic around the foreigner. ¡°It seems as if anything that passes within a certain distance of this man¡¯s body is pushed away. It is not a strong repulsion, quite weak in fact, but it was active while he was unconscious. Which was more than a day.¡± ¡°Truly?¡± Ahzi asked, taking note that the sheets he was lying on also had an imprint that was far bigger than his frame. Keeping a spell like that running for that long would drain even her mana pool. Unless the foreigner had a monstrous mana pool, then that meant that this was a [Passive] ability. Which were at minimum [Rare]. ¡°Yes, Your Highness. It is especially impressive given that the healers judge him to be less than level 10, given his natural healing ability and resilience of flesh. I¡¯d say if he advanced some levels and achieved a decent class advancement, he could become a military asset. I certainly wouldn¡¯t mind a Defender with an ability like that in my regiment.¡± Her assessment was similar and that certainly changed things. Before, she would have simply executed the man and been done with it. Sure she would remember his face, she always did, but it was necessary for operational security. But now, he was potentially valuable. Indecision wared within her and she sighed. Ah by the dead gods, why not. It wasn¡¯t like they weren¡¯t going to win this war without a risk or two. This was a minor one all things considered. She turned to her retinue and stated, ¡°It has been revealed to me that this stranger, Dante Embry, is a citizen of our great Empire. Whether or not he was part of our military in the past, it remains his duty to defend his homeland. Moeris, ensure that he is properly enlisted. If I recall, it was a certain Corporal Rhea M¨¡no who found him? In that case, she shall assume responsibility. Put him underneath her command and impress upon her my personal interest in this case.¡± Moeris stiffly saluted, ¡°As you order, Princess.¡± Then he turned around distributing orders to Major Tal and the other underlings. Soon, runners were dispatched. With one last glance at the man whose fate she just ordained, she turned to leave. Ahzi turned her mind towards her upcoming meeting with General Omn¨±. Before she had even left the tent, she had put the strange man out of her mind. In all likelihood, she would never see him again. Chapter 11 - Hope is Fragile, Part 1 Dante let loose a huge sigh of relief as that imposing woman left the tent and realized he was soaked in sweat. It had taken all he had just to breathe. There had been this awful presence that had grown stronger the closer she moved to him. It was the same feeling that one gets when they are in a place of history: imperious and demanding of respect. It had made him feel very small, which was not helped given that he had woken up wearing no clothes. When she had been standing in front of him, Dante felt like he would do anything if she ordered it. A small mercy then that he had not understood anything she said or any speech at all in this land. He was not the only one who felt that way, he was sure. The looks that the other wounded had given her ¡­ like a god had descended from above. He had to admit, the whole persona with the gleaming light and the ethereal flames was deserving of such awe. The way that she had been dressed was quite peculiar as well. The golden chest piece, bracers, and greaves had looked practical enough if ornate. A look that was entirely thrown off by a long segmented skirt and sleeves that wouldn¡¯t look out of place in a ballroom. When paired with that large bladed fan that she had used to hide her face, it was quite fantastical. There was also that black emblem she wore of a pair of eyes with an additional third eye on the forehead. It had been impossible to miss as it had been everywhere on her regalia. On the chest armor, the guard of her sword, and on the fan. It gave him the impression of being watched constantly. Which begged the question, who was she? She seemed important. Why had she been so interested in him? The only thing that came to mind was that he was now a human-shaped magnet. Dante brushed at the last few sand grains that were currently hovering above his lap and they pushed aside before his hand even touched them. Why else would that one soldier have thrown that sand at him? It was either that or pocket sand was a greeting here. Dante didn¡¯t have much confidence in the second one. Is this power really that notable? Dante idly waved his hand across his sheets and watched as the folds of the blanket writhed beneath his hands. Then, he lowered a stationary hand towards the cot and watched as a faint oversized handprint depressed the sheets. He could be wrong, especially since that damned [Status] was no help, but he thought that [Warding Flesh] was the likely culprit. Best he could tell, it seemed to push things away from him once it reached a certain distance away from his skin. Which seemed good on the face of it. There was just one problem. Dante picked up a small pebble from the blankets that he had been messing with earlier. He was careful to approach it from above so it didn¡¯t move out of his reach like the last few attempts. Then, he positioned it about a foot above his open palm and released it. It fell like expected until it was about two inches from his palm. It was nearly imperceptible, but the pebble did slow a fraction before landing on his hand with a faint plop. Yep, still can¡¯t even stop a pebble. The skill was level 4 and it couldn¡¯t even do that. Dante hoped that it got better at higher levels because currently, he couldn¡¯t see this being helpful ever. At least it¡¯s more visible than some of my other abilities. I still have no idea if [Sharpen Senses] or [Split Second Reactions] are helping. As for [Cameoline] ¡­ it¡¯s not much better. Despite his thoughts, Dante felt a small grin play across his features as he continued to mess with the sheets. He had done it! He was using actual magic. Even if it was weak, it was his. It was surreal, a dream come true. This was just his second day here, who knew what wonders he would witness once he left this accursed battlefield? It wasn¡¯t even the only miracle that he had witnessed tonight. Dante inspected his bandaged arm and lifted a patch to look at the skin beneath. Flawless pink and healthy skin greet his eyes, to his relief. Before, it had been raw, yellowed, and bloody but still a far sight from what he had expected given the injuries he remembered. Whatever treatment he had received while unconscious was miraculous enough, but the healing flames had put it to shame. They had wiped all of his remaining injuries away with a feeling like a warm hug. Looking around, he saw healers unwinding other bandages to a similar effect. That woman had healed hundreds by the look of it and she hadn¡¯t looked even slightly strained. I wonder if I will ever be that strong. There was a yawning void within him that hungered for that power. Dante longed to reach that level with every fiber of his being. To be able to decide his fate with impunity. To be free. To go home. To never die again. Dante marinated in that feeling momentarily before sighing wistfully and opening his [Status].
Name: Dante Embry Race: Human Class: Unclassed Level: 2 Attributes
Alacrity 9 [+] Endurance 14 (17) [+]
Charisma 6 [+] Fortitude 15 [+]
Cognition 13 [+] Perception 9 [+]
Constitution 15 [+] Strength 7 [+]
Dexterity 12 Willpower 14 [+]
SkillsUnauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.
Brawl (Common) 2
Deception (Common) 1
Lock Picking (Uncommon) 4
Logic (Rare) 4
Menial Labor (Common) 3
Sleight of Hand (Uncommon) 1
Stealth (Uncommon) 2
Abilities
Chameleon (Rare) 2
Sharpen Senses (Uncommon) 3
Split Second Reaction (Rare) 3
Warding Flesh (Unique) 4
Traits
Fickle Fate (Unique) MAX
Human Tenacity (Racial) 4
4057
When Dante woke up from his slumber, he was bombarded with messages that informed him that he had progressed in every ability. He had leveled up for the first time! Which, as far as he could tell, had only given him more stat points. Annoyingly, the [Status] still refused to tell him how many. Which was frustrating given how much he had risked for them. Dante began unwinding the blood-stained bandages from his arms and ran one finger over his unblemished skin. Just a short while ago, he had been in crippling pain from near full-body burns. And I was one of the lucky ones. He glanced over at his neighbor, who was missing her right arm. The powers of the healing flames seemed to have their limits. How many times have I nearly died in the last day? At least twice, by his count. Far too many. Things had already spiraled out of his control. Dante needed to leave this literal war front and go as far away as possible. Then, he could figure things out in relative safety. Which brought him to his current problem. Dante glanced over at the nearest doctor, who was a short distance away and was boiling bandages. Almost like she had eyes on the back of her head, the doctor gazed up from her task and met his gaze. Yep, they still had their eye on him. When he had first awoken he had tried to leave the tent and another doctor had been on him before he had even finished rising. That was when he found out a few things. The first was that the doctor had been stronger than her slim frame foretold. Very strong. It had been child¡¯s play for her to force him back down to his cot. Then, she had scolded him in that strange language they spoke. At least, he thought it was a scolding as he couldn¡¯t understand a single word of it. It sounded alien to his ears, but there were a lot of sounds that he associated with English in it. Regardless, it seemed like he was stuck here until he was allowed to leave. Which stung. It seems like here, more than on Earth, power was what mattered. It¡¯s just more literal here. If I was just stronger, then I could have forced my way past the doctor ¡­ Though the rest of the camp would be a greater challenge. Dante scowled. It was the principle of it that mattered anyway. Which reminded him ¡­ Just what am I going to spend the new attribute points on? It was different from when Dante was in the void. He was relatively safe now and had some sense of the situation, though his future remained uncertain. He might as well experiment a little and get some sense of what the attributes did. Alternatively, he could wait until someone could teach him. However, not speaking the local tongue was a huge barrier to that. Dante had no idea how long it would take to learn. Weeks, months, or maybe even a year? There was no guarantee that anyone would tell him either. Nope, it¡¯s better to confirm it for myself. So which one should he test first? He was likely going to put at least a point in all the attributes eventually so that he wouldn¡¯t be too unbalanced. The attribute that first came to mind was strength. It would be simple to see if he got any stronger. Besides, being physically stronger was something that all men wanted, him included. He poked one finger at his visible ribs. Especially me. Dante had never had the time to workout in the past. Or the diet, protein was expensive. Dante stiffened as a thought struck him, one that could change everything. Wait just a minute ¡­ can¡¯t I just increase strength normally? No matter how hard he tried, he could never have superhuman strength like that doctor. It should be a simple matter to get to the same level as a normal person. Or perhaps he could get superhuman strength just by working out, it was a new world. Who knew what was possible? For that matter, it seemed like this should also be true for at least endurance and probably dexterity. Until I figure this out, I probably shouldn¡¯t increase any of those attributes. So he should probably experiment on something that definitely could be increased naturally ¡­ like fortitude. It wasn¡¯t like you could train your body to be harder to hurt. Besides, he could always use more fortitude in his current situation. Now the only question is how do I tell what fortitude affects? Before Dante could think much more about it, a shadow fell over him and he looked up to see a soldier looming over him. ¡®Loom¡¯ might have been an insufficient word after second thought, towered would have been more fitting. Dante was not tall by any measure, but he would barely reach this man¡¯s navel. Furthermore, he looked like a bodybuilder who was taking way too many steroids. A feature only highlighted by the fact that the man wasn¡¯t wearing a shirt. It was so absurd that he doubted that the soldier was entirely human. While Dante was gawking at him, the giant threw a bundle of something near his feet. Looking down, he saw that they were a change of clothes. He sorted through them to reveal a shirt that was baggy around the sleeves and pants that flared so sharply around the ankles that they resembled a segmented skirt more than anything. Both were an ugly dark brown color that he was quite familiar with. From the looks of it, this appeared to be the same uniform that everyone except the healers was wearing. ¡°Ah, thanks?¡± Dante said, taking the clothes and holding them to his bare chest. A few awkward beats passed where they stared at each other and he added, ¡°Was there something else?¡± The giant growled, a deep sound that sounded more akin to a lion than anything, and Dante flinched. ¡°Paunuh mea rep''ul¨©,¡± said the man. Then, he pointed at the clothes and then again at Dante. ¡°I am sorry, I don¡¯t know what you are saying.¡± Dante hoped that something in his tone would get through to the man. He only received another growl for his efforts and the giant stepped towards him and yanked the shirt out of his hands. It was only after the giant tried to pull the shirt over his head that Dante finally got what he wanted. ¡°Stopstopstop! Powa me repoolee!¡± Dante threw up his hands and something in his tone must have translated as the giant paused. ¡°I understand! See?¡± Dante pulled what he thought was meant to be underwear, though it was longer than he was used to, under his blankets and pulled them on. Then, he held up his hands to show they were empty. The giant grumbled, a sound like grinding boulders, and relinquished the shirt back to him. Dante hurriedly dressed in the unknown clothes, fumbling for a moment when he realized that they didn¡¯t have any buttons or zippers. Everything was meant to be tied and he didn¡¯t know any knots. It didn¡¯t help that the giant maintained a vigil at the foot of his bed while giving him a side-eye. The instant that he was finished, the giant barked some more incomprehensible words at him. When Dante gave him a blank stare, the man pointed at him and then to the ground in front of the bed. This time Dante hastened to follow his orders, having no desire to be manhandled again. ¡°You don¡¯t have to be so rude,¡± Dante grumbled as the giant began walking towards the tent''s exit then looked over his shoulder at him. Once he ensured that Dante was following him, he led Dante out of the tent. Chapter 12 - Hope is Fragile, Part 2 Row upon row of tents greeted them outside. It was hard to see far as though the rain had finally stopped it was still quite foggy. The camp appeared extensive, he could not see an end to the tents in any direction. It had a worn feel to it, many of the tents were more patch than the original cloth and the ruts in the road were so deep that wood planks had been laid atop. The same went for the soldiers who occupied the camp. Scars were quite common and many had a distant look in their eyes. It made for quite a dismal picture. As if I needed more reasons to leave. This is just depressing. There was a barked word from behind him and Dante realized he was blocking the tent entrance. Muttering a quick, ¡°sorry¡±, he hastened after the giant. He had to dodge around a few women as he did so, but he hurried over to where the giant was waiting. I can¡¯t keep just referring to this guy as ¡®the giant¡¯ and I can¡¯t just ask for his name. From now on I will call him Jack, short for Jackass, on account of his winning personality. ¡®Jack¡¯ glowered at him while he approached, the picture of impatience. When Dante had reached his side, he was startled when Jack placed one large mitt over one of his shoulders. His fingers dig into Dante¡¯s flesh like talons. ¡°The hell?¡± Dante attempted to pull away, but It was no use. Jack¡¯s hands might have well been made of steel for how little they budged. Any further attempts were put on hold as Jack began moving, tugging Dante along like he was an unruly toddler. Dante took a deep breath and tried to suppress a flare of anger. What was it with people trying to touch me recently? Dante suddenly realized that they were attracting a lot of curious looks, most of which seemed to be directed at him. He felt his face flush and he stopped fighting, instead focusing on trying to match his Jailors'' much longer stride. However, the gazes did not abate. Even when they had moved far enough along that they were surrounded by entirely new people. Do I stand out that badly? I mean, they look strange to me so it must work the other way around too huh? He thought eyeing one woman who had hair that was such a deep purple that it approached black. Red eyes gleamed at him through the slate in one soldier''s helm and one woman had hair that looked like spun silver. Something about the crowd''s makeup bothered him. He did a quick head count, just to be sure. Yep, now I am certain. There are way more women here than. It¡¯s something like a 3 to 1 ratio. Dante wasn¡¯t sure what to make of that, but it had to be important. Something cultural perhaps? Like some Amazonian thing? Though some of the men he had spotted had been in command positions, like that one grizzled veteran who had been with that terrifying woman. Maybe these people are matriarchal? Everything here was so strange and different that Dante questioned every little thing he did. Should I be greeting people a certain way? Have I done anything rude? Am I expected to do things because I am a man? There was no way of knowing and he was probably going to step on some toes no matter how hard he tried. He should probably keep his eyes down and do his best to fall by the wayside until he had some idea of what was going on. Dante had stopped paying attention to the road, trusting Jack to guide him. It came as a surprise then, when an armored gauntlet entered his field of view and shoved him. Hard. If it had not been for Jack''s grip, he likely would have flown backward and landed flat on his back. As it was, he had all of his breath knocked out of him. Wheezing for air, he sagged in Jack¡¯s grip. When he regained his bearings, he looked up to see Jack and some unknown armored woman engaged in a furious argument. The woman, who seemed enraged, was currently jabbing a finger at Dante while Jack had his unburdened hand up in a placating gesture and was speaking in a soft tone. Shit! What was that? Did I do something? Dante raked his memory for a reason but couldn¡¯t think of anything that he had done that could have resulted in this. Well, it wouldn¡¯t hurt to apologize anyway. I do not want to get on the bad side of anyone who can punch like that. ¡°I am sorry? I have no idea what I did, but I apologize for it.¡± Surprisingly, that did seem to do the trick. The furious women fell silent and Jack seized the opportunity to explain something to her. She nodded along as he pointed first at Dante¡¯s hair, then at his eyes. Ah, so those are what were what was standing out. Come to think of it, he hadn¡¯t seen anyone yet with blonde hair or green eyes. The conversation between Jack and the soldier women seemed to be winding down. Jack seemed to finish a point and the woman sniffed, raised her chin high, and marched away. Leaving Dante still rather confused.This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. He realized that during that entire exchange, neither of them had so much as looked at him. Not that he had much time to dwell on it for the moment, as Jack resumed their march but even faster now. Dante had to almost jog to keep up. Fortunately for his recovering lungs, their journey soon came to an end when they approached an open-sided cart that was burdened with many crates and bags. Balancing rather precariously on the cargo, were three women and one man. They turned unfriendly looks towards Dante and Jack, which lingered on him. They were a motley bunch, with patched uniforms and unwashed hair. Every single one of them had a grievous injury of some kind. Missing limbs were common and one poor sop had a bandage over both their eyes. As soon as Dante laid eyes on the cart and its occupants all tension drained out of him and he sighed in relief. With how I was being treated I thought I might be going to a prison or ¡­ to an execution. He swallowed dryly at the thought. I still might end up in a cell, but at least it won¡¯t be here. With luck, we are going to a hospital. His mood much improved, he barely minded when Jack lifted him into the cart and onto a crate like a mother cat with its kitten. It was a close fit and he was squashed right up against the blind woman on one side and a person-sized sack of grain on the other. Jack climbed into a seat directly opposite him and finally released his grip on Dante''s shoulder. This was immediately followed by a pins and needle sensation and he began to massage blood back into the area. Did he really have to grab on so tight? I think it might bruise. Jack called something to the driver and there was a lurch as the wagon began moving. It was much more intense than Dante expected and he had to grab at the wagon¡¯s rail to avoid falling off. They soon accelerated to an uncomfortable speed, especially given that the wagon seemed to transmit every bump in the road directly to his rear. Wincing, he craned his neck to gaze around the luggage and see what was pulling this thing. He wasn¡¯t sure what he was expecting, but a massive six-legged lizard the size of a minivan was not it. It didn¡¯t look quite like any lizard he was familiar with as it had tufts of brilliantly colored feathers at its joints and a large fan across its spine. As if sensing his gaze, the creature twisted its head on a long sinuous neck and looked directly into his eyes. It had flat irises and had a vacuous gaze much like a cow. A large tongue snaked out of its mouth and wiped one eyeball the size of a soccer ball. It had on a saddle and bridle from which reins extended to a woman at the front of the wagon. Her attire mirrored her charge, incorporating armor made from a scaled hide and feathers for decoration. She held a many-tongued whip in her hand which she used to lash the side of the beast. It didn¡¯t seem to bother the lizard and, after a moment, it turned in the same direction as the lash. Dante slowly leaned back around to his original position and resolved to stay near the back of the cart. Everything in this land is bizarre. Nothing seems to make sense. Dante felt unmoored. So many extraordinary things had happened that he was having difficulty processing it all. In the short time he had been here he had been thrust into what was basically magic World War I, nearly died, then had witnessed a healing miracle. He desperately needed some time to absorb all that had happened. I hope we are going to a city. While he would still be a stranger in a strange land in such a place, at least he wouldn¡¯t have to fear indiscriminate death. Besides, Dante was sure that there was something in his modern knowledge that he could leverage to make a living. Feeling a little reassured, he settled against the crate and resolved himself for a long trip. The others in the cart seemed to have no desire to make conversation and he was content in the silence. Jack was dangling his feet over the back of the cart and had taken to sharpening his sword. It was a massive slab of iron, easily longer than Dante was tall, and it made him more than a little nervous to be within a few feet of it. Nevertheless, eventually exhaustion had caught up to him and Dante began to drowse off. Through half-lidded eyes, he spotted something in the sky. He reluctantly opened his eyes and squinted, trying to bring it into focus There was something up there. Something big, iridescent, and glowing. The barrier. Once again he marveled at the size of the thing, though the intricacy was also astounding. It seemed like every time he looked at it he noticed another detail. Now that he was on the inside, he was able there see a detailed tapestry of threads that stretched from runic diagram to diagram. While it was beautiful, he couldn¡¯t shake an uneasy feeling in his gut. Something is off. Dante tried to find the source of that sensation as the barrier grew clearer, emerging from the fog. Why does seeing this make me so uneasy? Maybe because it is connected to the same battlefield where I nearly died? That could be it, such an experience would probably forever taint his experience of magic. But why can I smell that awful stench of rot and death again? He frowned, wrinkling his nose. It was significantly more intense than he expected. Almost as if ¡­ He bolted upright and stared hard at the road before them. Slowly emerging from the mist was a row of trenches, much more complete than the ones he remembered. They teamed with soldiers and, even as he watched, injured shuffled out of the trench to a group that was waiting for them. Nonono, this can¡¯t be happening! Why would they ever send maimed soldiers back to the front? Dante shook his head violently. It doesn¡¯t matter, I have to leave. Now. He turned, preparing to jump off the cart and make a break for it when he caught Jack''s eye. For the first time since they met, the man was staring straight at him. It was the type of look you would give a disobedient dog when it pissed on the carpet. He noticed that the giant had one hand on his sword¡¯s hilt. A ray of light caught the razor-sharp edge as the pair considered each other. Ah, so that¡¯s how it is. Chapter 13 - The Front, Part 1 Dante followed Jack in a daze. Once again, the man clamped one giant hand over his shoulder and pulled him along. His heart beat in his chest like a bird in an upended cage. This can¡¯t be happening! What did I do to deserve this? I committed no crime. What kind of people would force an innocent into the front lines of a war? The answer presented itself to him as he looked back to see his fellow passengers shuffle off into other trenches with a variety of gaits. And in one case, carried. The same monsters who would see them return to the front lines. He was so distracted by rapid-fire thoughts that he almost didn''t notice that these trenches were different from the one he had hidden in. For one, it led underground and appeared formed full form from the living stone. Pipes of varying sizes and materials ran along the sides of the tunnel. Which was impressive given that the trench was nearly five times wider at this point. Space that was desperately needed as it was crowded by soldiers hurrying to and fro, oftentimes burdened with crates or sacks. It was lit by lanterns which cast a warm reddish glow, which gave everything a slightly sinister cast. I may have underestimated their technology, some of this looks complicated. He would have loved to inspect it longer, but he was ... distracted. Dante managed to leave a small trail of gawkers as some of the soldiers stopped and inspected him as if he were some strange animal that wandered into their midst. It was uncomfortable and he struggled not to feel self-conscious. He certainly wasn''t at his best. Though neither are they, he thought, wrinkling his nose. The whole place stunk of sweat and waste. This is going to become a regular thing, isn¡¯t it? That was a rather distressing proposition. In the types of places that he had lived, catching this much notice meant that you were someone¡¯s mark. It was also a matter of personal preference, he preferred to be in the background. Perhaps I can find some hair dye? I am almost certain that they don¡¯t have contacts, but I wasn¡¯t planning on looking at anyone anyway. As he was pondering the problem, they began to pass side passages that lead to large chambers of varying shapes and purposes. He saw dormitories, mess halls, and even an open-air park. It was extensive and he was wondering just how many people lived here when his attention was diverted by one room that was markedly different from the others. From that room, poured out a veritable rainbow of light and he felt an odd pressure emanating from it. It was similar to what the women had projected but weaker and less imperious. If Dante had to give a comparison, it would be like the difference between being crushed in a giant''s hand versus sitting underneath a waterfall. It was a matter of ... intent? As they walked past the room''s entrance Dante peaked inside inside to see were nine robed and hooded figures positioned equidistance around a circle. Between them was a mess of multicolored threads splayed in three dimensions. In the middle of the room, all of the threads over together to form a familiar pillar of light. That was all he had time to observe before he was whisked away. So this is where the barrier is created. Well, at least one of many. If he recalled, there were at least hundreds of strands involved. This must be some kind of support or staging area. Now this would be a zone I wouldn¡¯t mind staying in. Alas, that hope seemed to be for naught as ahead of them the tunnel ended and the pair passed back into the open to a more familiar sight. It was similar to the first trench Dante had sheltered in, though still wider than what he remembered. The crowd thinned substantially here and those that were around seemed ... more of a scholarly sort. They wore white robes and seemed to bear no burdens aside from small knapsacks or books. Off in the distance, he could hear a strange sound. First, there was a ground-shaking THRUM followed an instant later by a crack that was not dissimilar to the sound of a gunshot but far more ¡­ weighty. Dante flinched and nearly dove for the ground but when he looked around no one else seemed concerned. Barely half a minute later it happened again, louder this time and he had to clap his hands over his ears. This helped a bit for the next one. I guess this is a regular occurrence around here? Whatever it is, it doesn¡¯t seem dangerous at least. In a semi-regular rhythm, the noise would repeat at varying volumes. Sometimes it was a whisper and other times it was like before. He was a little concerned because the noisier ones were getting even louder. Also, he swore that he could feel a breeze every time the noise occurred. Dante waited for the next occurrence and when it happened he focused on the wind.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. There it was! There had been a definite movement in the air almost as if something has sucked the air forward. What all of this meant? He had no idea. I am sure it is caused by magic and it¡¯s likely on these people¡¯s side. They turned down a smaller corridor, barely enough space for two to walk side by side. They traveled down that for some time and the mysterious sound was getting quieter again, though it never quite faded away. Eventually, they reached trenches that were identical to those he had traveled before. His pulse quickened and he focused on taking calming breaths. Save for the fact that they were full of people now. They were widely spaced, perhaps one soldier every dozen paces. They wielded a truly diverse range of arms and armor, some of which he recognized and some he didn¡¯t. He even saw one man wielding a pitchfork. The only commonality between them was that they all wore the same base uniform that he was currently wearing. Occasionally, one of them would step up to the fire step and lose some manner of ranged weaponry through the machicolations at some target out of sight. Invariably, another soldier would step up next to them wielding a shield and looking poised to act. The atmosphere here was different from the previous two trench lines. Strained, like a thread about to be cut. There was no laughter or talk to be heard here. Dante kept looking up into the clouds, trying to see if he could see any of the volatile spells that nearly killed him the last time he was here. Fortunately, he saw no sign of anything like that. Perhaps they only used them during pitched battles? Jack continued to lead Dante on and he wondered just where there was left to go. Certainly not the no man''s land itself? Right as that thought crossed his mind, Jack suddenly stopped and Dante nearly ran into him. ¡°You are seriously living up to your name Jack ¡­¡± he mumbled and looked up. He froze as he saw a familiar figure facing away from them. Pitch black armor that seemed to consume all light save for the pinpricks of light that resided in its depths, an oversized tower shield, and a blade that nearly appeared like a missing chunk of the world. An ominous figure taken together. However, to him, it was the form of his savior. Finally, some luck! If I am meant to brave the depths of this hell, it might as well be with them. Jack cleared his throat, a sound that somehow managed to be heard over the constant din, and the night-cloaked warrior turned to face them. Their gaze flicked over to him, but Dante saw no recognition in those ruby eyes. On the other hand, they seemed to brighten up when they caught sight of Jack. Of course, they did. Dante tried not to sulk as the pair chatted amicably. At least he had determined the gender of his savior, as the voice that came out of the armor was decidedly female. It was a strong, authoritative voice that he could tell was the result of many hours barking orders. Eventually, Jack gestured at him, said something, and then the warrior went silent. The next she spoke, it was with furious heat and Dante¡¯s stomach dropped. The argument raged for a while, with Jack remaining cold and the woman growing increasingly angry. Eventually, the dispute seemed to reach a peak. The woman spit one last furious retort, threw up her hands, and stalked away. Thanks Jack, that went well. Just when I was hoping that I would find one friendly face in this land. Dante stumbled as he was shoved forward and he turned his furious gaze back on the perpetrator. Jack simply inclined his chin towards the retreating woman. He got the message. What is it with everyone getting physical with me? Do I just have some sort of sign on me that screams ¡®Abuse me¡¯ or something? He hastened to catch up to the woman and fell alongside her. She didn¡¯t even acknowledge him. Jack may have messed things up, but that didn¡¯t mean he couldn¡¯t try to fix it. Since they couldn¡¯t understand each other he should try and keep it simple. ¡°Umm, hi?¡± No response. ¡°My name is Dante,¡± He pointed at himself, ¡°Dante.¡± Still nothing, but he couldn''t quit now. He pointed at her. ¡°Name?¡± Silence fell between them he was about to give up when she finally spoke up in a terse tone. ¡°S¨±nva M¨¡no¡± Well, at least that wasn¡¯t a complete failure. S¨±nva M¨¡no huh? I owe a debt to you and I always pay back my debts. S¨±nva stopped and picked up something that was lying against the trench wall, then turned and pressed it against his chest. He looked down to see that it was a wooden shovel. When he looked back he saw that she had walked over to one of the regular short-length trenches and was gesturing for him to follow. When he had, he saw that it was mostly filled with mud and rubble. One other man was digging there and he was depositing the dirt in a hand-drawn cart. She pointed at that man, then Dante, and then mimed digging. He nodded, that was easy to interpret. Well, might as well get to it. If I show that I am a hard worker then perhaps I might earn some respect or leeway. Dante began striding forward and took a place beside the man, who looked up curiously. Dante gave him a nod and, after gawking at him for a second, the man returned it. It seemed some gestures survived interdimensional travel. Dante let the shovel bite into the dirt and pleasantly noted that it sunk in easily. There was nothing worse than dry and rocky soil when it came to digging. All things considered, I guess this isn¡¯t so bad. Discounting the whole being forced to do this part. He threw a clump of earth over his shoulder into the cart. Can¡¯t mess this up and it¡¯s easy enough work. Dante grunted as he moved a sizable rock. At least no one is trying to kill me. I probably don¡¯t have to worry about food either. Another shovelful. [Menial Labor] has advanced to 4. Well, would you look at that? Chapter 14 - The Front, Part 2 Dante couldn¡¯t go any longer. Putting down the shovel, he sat on the step and reached down to grab the waterskin Sv¨­l, his digging companion, had shared with him. Midway reaching down a spasm ran down his back and he groaned. He knuckled the spot. His shirt was soaked through and through with sweat. The tremors ceased and he finished grabbing hold of the water skin, taking a sip of tepid water. Alongside him, Sv¨­l continued digging and seemed no worse for wear considering that they had been at this for many hours. Occasionally a woman would come to collect the dirt and leave them a new, empty cart. He had not gotten a chance to get her name, but aside from that the two of them were alone. Sv¨­l was a machine, seeming no worse for wear, and was still moving at the same speed when they began. Sv¨­l had easily completed thrice the amount of work that he had. He gave Dante a confused look, saw his diminished state, shrugged, and then considered working. Sv¨­l was quickly becoming his favorite person in the new world. He didn¡¯t seem to dislike Dante and what must have been his strange ways, even sharing the water skin and some small bits of bread with him. After exchanging their names, a comfortable silence reigned between them. Most importantly, he had not tried to push or shove Dante. There was one area that he did accel over Sv¨­l. Cleanliness. To be fair to the man, it was because of [Warding Flesh]. The ability refused to let any dust, water, or mud stick to him. It all just wicked off of him, though his sweat remained for some reason. It was almost enough to endear him to the ability. Sv¨­l on the other hand, smelled like he had been in these trenches for a while. As he caught his breath watching the man work, he wondered just how high that man''s [Menial Labor] skill was. Or endurance, he still had no idea how any of that worked. Dante was certain that he was different now, even when he was in construction he had not been able to work without rest for hours. He wasn¡¯t at a superhuman level like Sv¨­l, but peak human wasn¡¯t that far off. Especially considering that the means to achieve that is currently in my hands. Dante opened his [Status].
Name: Dante Embry Race: Human Class: Unclassed Level: 2 Attributes
Alacrity 9 [+] Endurance 14 (17) [+]
Charisma 6 [+] Fortitude 15 [+]
Cognition 13 [+] Perception 9 [+]
Constitution 15 [+] Strength 7 [+]
Dexterity 12 [+] Willpower 14 [+]
Skills
Brawl (Common) 2
Deception (Common) 1
Lock Picking (Uncommon) 4
Logic (Rare) 4
Menial Labor (Common) 4
Sleight of Hand (Uncommon) 1
Stealth (Uncommon) 2
Abilities
Chameleon (Rare) 2
Sharpen Senses (Uncommon) 3
Split Second Reaction (Rare) 3
Warding Flesh (Unique) 4
Traits
Fickle Fate (Unique) MAX
Human Tenacity (Racial) 4
3742
While Dante had been toiling away, he had been considering how to distribute his stats. His top priority was still to find which stat did and if they could improve naturally. Though so far strength hadn¡¯t increased yet, but he was probably being impatient. In an optimal world, he would try to determine if all of them improved through work. This was not an optimal world. First, I should establish a baseline. Dante picked up the shovel again and tested its edge, finding it dull. This is going to hurt a little. He balanced it on its haft, tipped it towards him, and it let go. The shovel impacted against his forearm, blade first, and ¡­ bounced off leaving no mark. There was a mild spike of pain, but not as much as he was expecting. Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. Huh? Dante pulled back his fist and struck the shovel lightly, then again when there was no pain. It smarted a bit, but he had hit it with some force. I guess I had missed it with all the crazy shit happening, but I am strong now. About to stronger. +1 to Fortitude. Immediately his skin flared with heat and an intense itching began deep in his bones. Caught off guard, he spasmed and just about stayed in his seat. Thankfully the sensation was brief and was soon replaced with a feeling like his entire body had fallen asleep. Dante grimaced as he unflexed his sore muscles. That had not done him any favors. Well, I certainly felt that one. So that¡¯s what increasing an attribute is like when you have a body? Dante was very grateful that he had only chosen to do one at a time. He cast a look at Sv¨­l and was relieved that the man seemed unbothered. A little perturbed too, as Dante felt like he would help someone who looked like they were having a seizure. Perhaps it¡¯s a common occurrence? Well, let¡¯s see if it was worth it. He pinched his skin and was shocked when there was immediate pain. Wait a second. Dante repeated the shovel test and once again there was hardly any pain. If he wasn¡¯t wrong there was less pain this time around. Dante walked over to the yet still buried portion of the trench, shaped his palm into a blade, and pressed it into a relatively solid clump of dirt. His fingers penetrated the earth with barely any discomfort. Withdrawing his hand, he inspected his unharmed fingers. If I am not wrong, fortitude reinforces all parts of my body. That is why the environment doesn¡¯t hurt me where as the pinch does. Because my nails are becoming stronger at the same rate as my skin. Dante sat back down on the shelf and assumed a thinker pose. This means that if I level the stat high enough, then my body could become a weapon. Monk style. That was quite an appealing image, punching through steel while arrows ricocheted off him. Ok, moving on to the next stat. Let¡¯s try Perception. Pretty sure that you can¡¯t train yourself to be more perceptive and I need to upgrade that one anyway. As for the testing ¡­ Dante focused on the great bulwark that constantly shown above. That would do, he always seemed to find another detail every time he looked at it. Here¡¯s to hoping it¡¯s not as bad. +1 to Perception. Pain arched up every single nerve. Lights became blinding, noises overwhelming, and the feel of his clothes was agonizing. When he came to and the world wasn¡¯t so overwhelming, he realized that he had fallen limp against the wall. Right, all senses are connected to perception. Including pain. Good to know. Are all of these attributes going to inflict some fresh new hell on me? Regardless, it was worth it. Dante turned his eyes to the heavens and found everything was just a little clearer. In the magical tapestry above, he could now discern that even smaller threads often broke off from the pillars to form delicate patterns. It was as if he had been wearing out of focus glasses his entire life and had just taken them off. Is this how most people see the world? He had only leveled it up to 10, which was the average. It wasn¡¯t just sight, even the air tasted richer though still ladened with the battlefield stench. The rhythmic booms in the background sounded louder and he heard new depths to the sound. Like a strange THRUMM that followed every instance for a few seconds. Compared to fortitude, it was almost intoxicating. Like seeing an entire new world. It truly felt superhuman. Dante was eager to move to the next one, which was cognition. On Earth it was well documented that, once you were an adult, you could not increase your natural intelligence. Perhaps that rule wouldn¡¯t be so ironclad in this world. It had taken some time to decide how to measure this, but he had settled on seeing if how many numbers he memorized changed. He remembered that one from the time he had taken an IQ test. So he scratched a random sequence of ten numbers in the dirt, gave himself a chance to memorize, marveled at his new senses a bit more, and then checked to see how many he remembered. After doing this a few times, it seemed like he averaged about six correct. Alright, let¡¯s do this. +1 to Cognition. Contrary to his expectations, there was no pain. Instead, his head grew fuzzy and he lost focus on ¡­ well just about everything. He could only relate it to being very drunk. It was not an altogether unpleasant sensation. After it had passed, he didn¡¯t feel any different. So far, I like that one the most. Though, perhaps it was the most subtle change yet. Time to see if I do better at that little test of mine. Dante scratched out the old numbers and wrote himself some new ones, then memorized them. After a couple more rounds, he found that his new score was seven. While that was an improvement, Dante couldn¡¯t help but be a little disappointed. He wasn¡¯t sure if it was due to the attribute increase or if he simply got better at the test. Compared to the other stats the change was much less noticeable. Perhaps I will notice some more improvements later? Dante shrugged and went to move on to the next attribute ¡­ but found that he couldn''t. He was out of attribute points. That was fast! I only got three this time. What happened to the nine from before? Apparently, that had been a one time bonus or the like. Feeling a little ripped off, he grabbed the shovel and stood up. I can¡¯t leave Sv¨­l to finish this by himself. I need at least one friend here. Truthfully, there wasn¡¯t too much left to do. When he had sat down there was about a third left and now it was closer to a quarter. Still, might as well help him finish. Dante let the shovel bite into the soil and began working. As Dante hastened to finish the job, one thing quickly became apparent. He was still very tired. Something is wrong here. I rested for a long time and yet it hardly helped. It¡¯s not been that long since I have done physical labor, so I know for a fact that I should have recovered more. I am missing something here. He did his best to think on the subject but an answer had not presented itself to him by the time they finished. When the last shovelful disappeared into the cart, Dante followed Sv¨­l¡¯s lead and took a seat once again. Before he had a chance to engage him in conversation, Sv¨­l was sound asleep. That is incredible. We are in the middle of a battlefield and he fell asleep. Just like that. Dante had heard stories of soldiers in the United States military doing the same but had never quite believed it. While Dante was physically exhausted, his mind was moving too fast to consider doing the same. Dante had spent enough time in his head and the only other people that he could talk to was a pair of soldiers a couple dozen yards away who looked busy. Even as he watched, one of them stepped up, and an icicle about a yard long formed in the palm of his hand. So quickly he nearly missed it, extended his hand, fired the icicle, and stepped down. What is he firing at? For all that Dante had nearly died at their hands twice, he had not even caught a glimpse of the enemy. Maybe with his new senses, he could catch a glimpse. It would just be a peek. Climbing to his feet, he raised his head to one of the holes in the ramparts. The battlefield was still the devastated wasteland that he remembered, but he was able to see farther due to there being no rain or fog. Dante looked past the cratered landscape and the abandoned trenches to see a series of hills in the distance. On the crest of those hills were a series of enormous blocks that would put those in Stonehenge to shame. He thought he also spotted a few spires in the distance. Something about the entire arrangement bugged him. It was far too regular. Dante squinted his eyes, trying to take in the scene as a whole, and came to a sudden realization. Wait a second, that isn¡¯t a hill. It¡¯s a massive earthen wall! The scale of the entire thing nearly put the barrier to shame. I guess that the other side¡¯s achievements are comparable. It makes sense, they appear to winning. A glint in the distance caught his eye and he focused on it. It was far too bright to be anything natural and reminded him of how a diamond might catch the light. Whatever it is, it must either be enormous or pointed directly at ¡ª Something grabbed the back of his shirt and yanked him down so hard he went sprawled to the floor. Dante landed on his back and all breath wooshed out of him. From this position, he had a perfect view of the quivering shaft of a spear that was embedded in the wall of the trench right above him. His cheek felt wet and when he reached a hand up to touch it, it came away bloody. Fuck. That¡¯s three times now. Chapter 15 - The Front, Part 3 Dante lay there as chaos broke out around him. He could hear Sv¨­l yelling and suddenly the trench was filled with soldiers. It all happened between blinks, another stark reminder that he was out of his depth. All around him, a barrage of magic and projectiles were being hurtled out of the trench toward the attack. It seemed like he had broken some sort of deadlock. Sv¨­l suddenly loomed over him and offered a hand. When he took it, he was effortlessly hoisted to his feet. Looking around, Dante was afraid to move as soldiers darted from position to position at blinding speeds. When Sv¨­l tugged him out of the fray, he gladly acquiesced. He was led around the bend, where it was relatively peaceful, and then Sv¨­l sat him down on the fire step. Dante grimaced as Sv¨­l began poking at the gash on his cheek but offered no resistance. The ministrations seemed purposeful and he couldn''t summon the will to do anything about it. Instead, he stared back the way they came. He heard renewed shouts, heavy impacts, and the screech of metal on metal. He guessed that the enemy was offering return fire. Even as he watched, there was a scream of pain and an unfortunate woman was pulled out of the fray with a spear through his stomach. That could have been me. Dante realized that his hands were trembling and clenched them together to try and quiet them. One bad decision, one second of indecision was all it would take. Something was waved in front of his face and he looked up to see a tightly rolled leather wad. Dante looked at Sv¨­l and instinctively leaned back when he saw the man was wielding a needle and thread. There was a small knapsack in the man¡¯s lap in which he could spot small flasks, bandages, and thread in it. Some sort of first aid kit he thought. Oh, that¡¯s right. Dante reached and traced around the burning line on his face. He didn¡¯t have a mirror, but it stretched from cheekbone to ear and felt deep. That''s going to need stitches. He grimaced. This is going to hurt a lot, isn¡¯t it? Accepting the leather bundle between his teeth, he closed his eyes and prepared himself. He could hear a ¡®pop¡¯ as Sv¨­l opened a flask and seconds later he clamped his teeth down on the leather bundle as a cold liquid was poured into the wound. Sv¨­l, that bastard, was giving him a generous dosage. A new wave of pain followed afterward, changing from a stinging sensation to an intense burning. It lingered even after the pouring stopped. Before he had time to recover, an iron grip took grabbed his face, holding it steady and pinching the wound closed. A sharp pinprick followed soon after and a whimper would have escaped his lips had his mouth not been filled. One. Another pinprick, a sharp tugging sensation as thread was pulled through flesh. Two. Dante soon lost count, but it was well over a couple dozen stitches. Discounting burning to death, it was one of the more painful experiences of his life and was made worse by its duration. He made sounds during that eternity that he hadn¡¯t known he could make. Of course, Sv¨­l doused the entire area again with the disinfectant, just as that burning sensation had just begun fading. When Sv¨­l let go of his face, Dante opened his eyes to see that the man had soaked a bandage in a red, viscous substance. He layered it over the cut and the bandage stuck on. Dante poked at it and found that it was rapidly solidifying into a firm yet gelatinous film. Sv¨­l slapped his hand away and he decided to leave it alone for now. I guess I am not getting healing magic for every single injury, just the life-threatening ones. He turned his gaze back to Sv¨­l, who had begun packing away his medical supplies. Most injuries must be treated like this. He was no expert on first aid, but Sv¨­l seemed practiced. Definitely a good guy to get to know. ¡°Thank you Sv¨­l, for saving my life and for this.¡± Dante pointed at the bandaged wound. ¡°I don¡¯t know when, but I will return the favor one day. I swear it.¡± Dante bowed his head, hoping that his words and gestures would cross the language barrier. He flinched as he felt a pat on his arm and looked up to see a small smile on Sv¨­l¡¯s face. A wave of relief went through Dante and he he looked away to hide the dampness at the corners of his eyes. He didn¡¯t let them fall, it would be unseemly. Now that he had a quiet moment, he noticed for the first time that he had notifications from the system again. He glanced back at Sv¨­l, who had settled in and seemed content to continue resting on these steps. With a thought, Dante opened them. [Warding Flesh] has advanced to Level 5. [Specializations] are available. Level 24 [Ahsmati] has been slain. Your Participation: <1% Calculating Experience Rewards Congratulations! You have advanced to Level 3. That was ¡­ a lot to unpack. Now that he looked back at where he had nearly died, he saw that the soldiers had mostly dispersed. I guess they killed whatever shot at me? What did the system call it ... an Ahsmati? Is that what we are fighting? At least I got something out of that mess. Apparently, being damaged is enough to count as participation. But what is a [Specialization]?Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! Burning with curiosity, he opened his [Status] and found that it had a new [Specializations] tab. He focused on it and a new window opened.
Choose a new [Specialization] for [Warding Flesh]
Overloaded Exchange the future.
Maximized Power above all.
Reaching Extend your authority.
Restricted Sacrifice generality.
Polar Wield two aspects.
Dante blinked his eyes and then rubbed at them, not quite believing what he was seeing. I actually got a description for something! He felt an initial surge of excitement which quickly morphed into a frown as he scanned through his options. It¡¯s still so little. What, did they have a word limit of three or something? Still, I suppose I should be grateful to get anything at all. The question is, which do I pick? Dante reached down to pick up a small rock, balanced it in his palm, and then released. It levitated up a few inches above his hand where it remained, rotating with the minute shifts in his hand. He brought it up to eye level, then pushed it down with one finger. Hmm, if I am not mistaken I think it has gotten a little stronger. This rock is heavier than any it was able to lift before and it seems to hover a little higher. He added another rock next to the first, about the size of a chicken egg. It proved to be too much for the ability and began to slowly sink. I suppose that¡¯s the limit for now. I need to start recording these readings, I might be able to figure out how what changes when this ability levels. Even with the upgrade, it still was not the kind of results that Dante to see from his highest leveled ability. At its current state, this ability is nowhere near stopping something like that javelin. I need to pick something that can quickly boost its defensive potential. Dante was about to go through his options when he was distracted by movement from Sv¨­l, who stretched and then stood. Scanning around, he saw that it wasn¡¯t just Sv¨­l who was moving. Where once soldiers were assigned to their positions, there was now a constant circulation through the trenches. Something was happening. He got up, tense creeping back into him, and scanned for any peculiarities. Dante was at least certain that danger was not imminent as all weapons were in their sheaths and people were moving at human-like speeds. He looked to Sv¨­l for direction, who also seemed to be looking for something in the crowd. Moments later, the man brightened and waved to someone in the distance. I guess some gestures truly translate across cultures. Dante turned and looked at what had caught Sv¨­l¡¯s eye. It was a group of three, all carrying shovels or pickaxes and covered in grime. It was composed of one other man and two women, one of whom immediately caught Dante¡¯s eye as she was quite clearly not human. His first thought upon seeing her was elf, but that wasn¡¯t quite right. While she certainly had the long ears ¡ª they must have been almost a foot long ¡ª and the thin frame typically associated with elves, that was where the similarities ended. For one, she had an additional pair of eyes located on the cheekbones. They were much smaller than the main pair and seemed to have the ability to operate independently. Freaky. One of them glanced at him briefly with an orange iris and pupils much like a cats before seemingly dismissing him. What he had first judged as slimness was revealed to be pure muscle paired with no fat, even beyond what you would expect to find on an Olympic athlete. On her cheeks and visible skin, he could see striations that disrupted otherwise flawless skin. They seemed to run parallel to muscle. Despite being about a head shorter than what he judged the average height here, she gave off a dangerous feeling. Almost like a predator in their midst. A feeling that was only reinforced when she greeted Sv¨­l and he saw several sizable canines peak out of her lips. Realizing that he had been staring for quite a while, he adverted his gaze. Which, of course, made her notice Dante. She said something to Sv¨­l and whatever he said back caused her to chuckle. I hope that comment was complimentary. Dante had a feeling he was looking at his future colleagues. After the group had finished their greetings, which mostly consisted of embraces and back slaps, they began to move. Dante trailed along, feeling very much like a third wheel. By this point, evening had turned to twilight and it was growing difficult to see. There were no lights in these trenches, for obvious reasons. Usually, he was blind as a bat in such conditions but, even in this moonless night, he was able to see far better than he expected. While colors were still beyond him, it was easy enough to see the shape of things. He wouldn¡¯t want to run in these conditions, but it was enough that he wouldn¡¯t bump into anything if he took his time. I guess [Enhanced Senses] is doing something. I wonder what I would score on an eye exam now? After a good five minutes or so and many turns which seemed to take them a reasonable distance away from the front, their journey ended in a small circular plaza-like area. It was surrounded by doors that were built straight into the stone. In the middle was a well and several soldiers stood clustered around it, filling their water skins and chatting. Some held bowls that seemed to be full of some kind of stew. A small breeze picked up and blew an appetizing scent towards him. While Dante couldn¡¯t identify any of the scents, it was one of the best things he had smelled in a while. His stomach grumbled and he hoped that they would be eating soon. Sv¨­l led the party to one of the doors and opened it with a key that he produced from one of his many pockets. He opened the door and inside was a small room, about the size of an underfunded high school classroom. Along the far side of the room were ten small nooks carved into the wall arrayed in a two-by-five pattern. They were filled with straw and had a few blankets thrown over the top to form a crude mattress. The rest of the room was occupied by tables, benches, and an open fire pit with a chimney above it that led into the ceiling. There was already one woman in the room who was tending to a pot hung over the fire, from which emanated an even more ravishing smell than the stew from before. Dante recognized her, he would never forget that light-devouring armor. It was the soldier who had rescued him from his first near-death experience. She heard the door, turned around, and he got his first look at his savior''s face.