Sanguine Prince | Chapter 07: Shaping Evolution (Second Draft)

Arcturus drifted in the void of his mind, vaguely aware of his physical body moving with outside impetus. It was not so much a sensation as it was an understanding, a comprehension of altered position that flitted across his mind in a mix of alarm and concern, before being relegated to the recesses of his thoughts. His focus was claimed instead by the pulsing, steady beat of power that welled up within his body; an essence of existence that demanded he claim it, direct it, and guide it wherever he needed it to go.

Some part of him understood on a conscious but detached level that he was not actually awake—that he was deep in slumber, lost within the darkness of his mind. Every moment would be ruled by his own thoughts and projections, very much like it had been in The Highest. In fact, his experience with that divine realm seemed to have given him an unconscious ability to control his dreams and at least partially dictate their contents.

His surroundings shifted as he considered that idea, placing him instead within a construct of his room on Earth. Without thinking about it, he walked across the carpeted floor to the desk set against the wall, near his bed, and pulled out his chair. His eyes roamed the interior of the space as he sat down, noting the faint scent of vanilla and pancakes in the air, hallmarks of his home on holiday mornings when his mother and father would cook delicious dishes for the three of them to enjoy as a family.

He closed his eyes, and he focused, wondering if it was just his imagination or if he could hear familiar records playing in the living room—accompanied by the joint laughter of his parents while they worked on the family breakfast to bring in the new day with a warmth and love that had defined his life growing up. He sighed as he opened his eyes, the relaxation of being back home delivering a sense of peace that he hadn’t felt for…

Well, he didn’t know how long. Despite not even existing, it felt as if he’d carried the tension with him through True Oblivion—however long that had lasted.

He suspected he’d only been non-existent for moments as reckoned by the material universe, and yet it felt like an eternity; one composed of crushing, endless, and ceaseless panic that had echoed through his soul even in the depths of the absence of anything. Arcturus looked down at his desk as he considered the notion of existing without existing, a wry smile taking its place on his lips at the sheer absurdity of the thought. Then again, if someone had told him he’d manage to claw his way back from True Oblivion by sheer force of will, he’d have also called them clinically insane.

Who’s to say you aren’t?

A sigh rolled from his lips at the comment, and he focused instead on his desk—on the paper that was only at that moment of focus present upon it. It was a summary, a clear outline of his personal information translated to numerical absolutes. His ‘Sheet’, as he mentally considered it, in all of its shallow glory. It relayed his essence as it was, broken down into basic mathematics that forced him to acknowledge how incredibly odd it was that his entire existence could be reduced to something so pedestrian. 

Arcturus Valoura

Level 2 Ȁ̶̩͉̝̤͘͝r̴̥̥͕̐̌͒͝ć̸̫͓̿ͅä̸̧́̐̀n̷̲̏̌̀͜͝ẹ̷̜͙̈́̏ ̷̙̥͐̄W̴̮̘͂̓̊͝a̴̢͑͆͋ŗ̷̬̫̋r̵̪̯̋̓̅̕i̷̛͖̬͍ō̵͍͉͜r̸̡̻̗̜̿͒

Anima: 10 (100HP) | Aether: 10 (100MP)

Strength: 19 | Agility: 11 | Intelligence: 14 | Vitality: 13 | Perception: 14 | Arcana: 18 | Willpower: 21 | Charisma: 12 | Luck: ??

Core Skills

[Inspect] (Passive, Infinite Scaling)

Combat Skills

[Unarmed Combat] (Passive, Level 1)

Aether Skills

[Psionicist] (Passive, Infinite Scaling)

[Telekinesis] (Active, Level 1) 

His crimson eyes roamed over the given information, taking in each numerical value and then glancing to the left of the page, where a shimmering white bar had appeared, outlined in abyssal black.

The bar was filled, aglow with ethereal energy that called him to use it.

His attention returned to his sheet, and Arcturus instinctively knew he had to use that power and distribute the essence, lest it eventually consume and destroy him. He could have let it distribute itself of its own accord, but he also understood that such an action would waste a chance for him to alter the very fabric of his being in a manner that would be outrageously beneficial when compounded.

Where the knowledge came from was anyone’s guess, but it was in his head, and he knew it to be true in a way that defied definition.

“Alright, well, first things first,” he said determinedly, looking to where his Anima and Aether numbers were. He reached out with his forefinger and tapped each one, increasing both by a factor of one.

Anima increased by 1 point!

Health increased to 110!

Aether increased by 1 point!

Mana increased to 110!

Nodding at the changes, he glanced to the blazing bar on the left of the page, smiling as he saw it had dropped to the exact position that he knew to be eighty percent capacity, though it still blazed and awaited use. One ‘point’ was ten percent of the bar, then. It was as he’d suspected, though he wouldn’t have minded if each point had taken less of his essence. It made sense, though; multiples of ten were an age-old, common-sense system of measurement for humanity, and it was very likely that was simply how his subconscious best understood the distribution of power. No doubt he’d be able to change that distribution at a later date, once he was more… comfortable with everything.

“Alright, then I suppose the next step would be this…”

Arcturus moved his finger to his primary attributes, increasing his Agility by 2 points, his Vitality by 2 points, and his Charisma by 2 points. He’d thought to increase his Strength, Intelligence, Arcana, or Willpower—but there would invariably be more level-ups through which to do so, and it seemed prudent to pay attention to the attributes that were lacking the most. Greater Agility meant greater reaction time, speed, dexterity, and flexibility; all things that could save his life. Greater Vitality meant a faster recovery time, a greater chance to resist debilitating injuries, and a greater constitution with which to handle tests of endurance.

Once again, the information was simply there, and he could not name how.

Greater Charisma was a logical one, given that his new appearance and potential side effects of it—especially somewhere like Earth, which he hoped he’d returned to—needed to be used to his advantage as much as possible. He already knew he was better looking, which no doubt would play into his Charisma score, but that wasn’t enough by itself. Natural charm, magnetism, the ability to smooth-talk…

He had played enough roleplaying games to know that a high Charisma score could sometimes be the difference between a fight for your life and a peaceful exchange, or the key to turning a potential foe into a newfound friend.

Agility increased by 2 points!

Vitality increased by 2 points!

Charisma increased by 2 points!

Arcturus glanced at the bar to his left, marking the drop to the bottom twenty percent, and then turned back to his sheet.

His eyes roamed over it thoughtfully, glancing between his [Unarmed Combat] and [Telekinesis] abilities. On one hand, his [Unarmed Combat] skill could prove incredibly useful in surviving, especially once he actually woke up from whatever induced unconsciousness the sudden surge of essence had given him.

On the other hand, having a higher level in [Telekinesis]—potentially two more levels—could unlock abilities or uses he could find very useful. If Telekinetic abilities were also invisible to the naked eye, as he suspected they were, then the options for self-defense were hard to ignore.

After a moment of indecision, he threw caution to the wind and pressed his finger twice to his Telekinesis score. “Nothing ventured…” he muttered.

[Telekinesis] increased by 2 points!

[Telekinesis] is now Level 3!

[Telekinesis] limiters removed!

Your advancement in Telekinesis has removed the need for casting frameworks! Your Telekinesis can now be used in whatever capacity your mind imagines. Be careful, though, Arcturus! While now unlimited in application, the Mana cost of your abilities will be directly affected by any relevant physical, magical, mental, or enchantment resistances active on your targets! Distance and complexity of casting will also need to be considered, lest you accidentally drain your Mana instantly!

Unlimited potential, achieved only through his imagination, seemed strangely overpowered for a level 3 ability, not that he was complaining.

He could already picture several different uses, including everything from blades of force, small enough to draw little energy and sharp enough to cut effortlessly through flesh, to massive spears of telekinetic power that could punch through body armor without issue.

Of course, he had a feeling that there were specific forms of use favored by Psionicists, something he’d likely need to research—unless the knowledge was somehow inherent, thanks to the way his point investments would warp his power and elevate its potency at a rapid rate.

A moment’s thought, lingering on that idea, was all it took before a wave of information streamed through his mind’s eye.

[Insight Gained]: Telekinetic Forms!

By using logical deduction, you have successfully accessed a mental repository detailing the most efficient ways in which to use your Telekinetic abilities, and how to harness your spells to mitigate unexpected Mana drain! You have learned [Telekinetic Lance], [Telekinetic Blade], [Telekinetic Wave], [Telekinetic Hammer], [Telekinetic Fortification], and [Telekinetic Arrow]!

Level-Up Complete!

You are now 23% of the way to Level 3!

Smiling to himself in satisfaction, Arcturus looked at the essence bar again, noting that it was now black with a white border, and that the black was precisely placed for where his mind told him 23% progress should be. Satisfied with the results of his distributions, he yawned and pushed himself up from his desk, stepping away and surprising himself with another yawn.

He suddenly felt exhausted, like he’d run a marathon at a dead sprint.

It was strange, given he was in a dreamscape, yet he didn’t think to question it. His mind almost seemed unable to, and he could barely even rationalize the idea when he tried, as if a fog were affecting his critical thinking. As quickly as the concern appeared, it smoothed itself over, and he let the matter rest. Instead, he made his way to his bed, collapsing into it and placing his head on the pillow.

He smiled as he smelled vanilla and pancakes, allowing memories of home to take him away…

… only to snap awake a second later, blinking rapidly.

He was in his bed—No, wait, that was wrong.

He hadn’t truly been at home; he’d been dreaming, which meant that going to sleep in the dreamscape had woken him up. He’d gone through the process of levelling up, and a quick test told him he could feel the changes in his body. After a moment of flexing, wiggling, and assessing the newfound strength in himself, he abruptly remembered the forest.

Shit. The Dire Wolf. My wound. I—wait, what?

A hand rose to touch the back of his right shoulder in search of the wound he could no longer feel, and he found bandages over seamless flesh. Bewildered at that revelation, Arcturus reached for his other shoulder and found only the same. It was as if his body had healed over the wounds as if they were no longer there. Even a check of his Anima showed him confirmation.

Health at 110 / 110.

Mana at 110 / 110. You are regenerating 1.8 Mana per minute!

Arcturus furrowed his eyebrows at the idea. It wasn’t possible to just heal, not without scars, and not in the span of—

He froze when he realized he had no idea how long he’d been unconscious, or why he was in a bed, or why he was bandaged. In fact, if his senses weren’t lying to him, he was also wearing a very comfortable pair of cotton briefs! He had been naked and wounded, and then he had been hit by his level-up alert, and there had been a release of energy…

Arcturus cursed himself as the alert popped into his mind.

[Insight Gained:] Given the nature of your unnatural rebirth, the process of reconstituting your essence is far more extreme than that of anyone else! Each time you level up, your body is reconstructed at the molecular level. Anything you do not hold as a core part of your identity is erased in favor of a strong, unbroken mortal shell fully prepared to enjoy all the new benefits your levelling up will provide it! Isn’t that just wonderful?

“Shit,” he cursed under his breath.

That meant each time he levelled up, his body was effectively reconstructed using the same powers his subconscious had manipulated to restore him from True Oblivion. Unless he found a way to deal with the pain, or at least delay it until he found somewhere to pass out for unknown periods of time safely, it was going to prove extremely troublesome for his immediate future.

Which once again brought him back to his present situation.

Forgot about that for a moment there, did you?

Careful not to make too much noise, Arcturus pulled the woolen sheets he’d been covered with off his body, properly taking stock of his surroundings for the first time.

He was in a modestly sized rectangular space, perhaps 4 meters by 7 meters, with his bed positioned with its bottom facing the single oaken door that led into what he realized belatedly was a room. The material on the walls appeared to be plaster, likely covering timber or stone, as far as he could tell, and sunlight streamed in from the window above and behind his bed. The room’s fixtures were limited, with smooth floorboards covered in a large rug just shy of filling the entire floor.

A lacquered wooden chair and writing desk were nearby, as well as a bookcase and fireplace.

At a conservative guess, he assumed he was in an inn or bed and breakfast—likely a countryside building, given the lack of noise from outside his window. Turning to place his feet on the rug and stand, Arcturus moved with cautiously quiet steps towards the front of the bed and smiled when he saw folded clothes on a small table, one previously hidden from his field of view. He had suspected, given the briefs, that there’d be some manner of clothing left for him.

It made him slightly less worried, lowering his alarm level from extreme to high, but it was something.

[Agility Check] successful!

Congratulations! [Stealth] (Active, Level 1) Unlocked!

With your enhanced Agility, you have just barely managed to move with something approaching respectable levels of stealth! Practice and dedication to the art of [Stealth] will enhance your ability to move undetected. There’s absolutely no way you’d think to abuse the ability to avoid detection by others, right? Happy Sneaking, you dastardly rogue!

Arcturus snorted in response to the mental prompt as he lifted the folded fabric on the top of the pile, holding it and unfurling it. He suppressed his surprise at finding a nicely made cotton shirt that, paradoxically, appeared to be designed for a fashion that had ended near the late sixteenth century.

Bemused but not intending on walking around naked, Arcturus removed his bandages and dressed as quickly and quietly as he could. The white shirt went on first, followed by a pair of charcoal pants—breeches, in truth—that were almost too snug for comfort. He tucked the shirt into the pants, then looped a belt through the pants.

Over the shirt went a decently stitched overcoat with sleeves perfectly measured to fall just over his wrists, dyed the same charcoal color as his breeches. He decided against using the silver buttons along the coat’s right side to fasten it, leaving it open to show the white shirt beneath. The back of the coat, he noted with some amusement, had two triangular tails at the end like some sort of Victorian gothic re-enactment.

The very thought of it brought a sardonic smile to his face as he spied the very last items left for him on the floor in front of the little table: a pair of calf-high laced boots in black leather, and what appeared to be comfortably-made polyester socks.

Sitting on the edge of the bed after collecting both, Arcturus took the time to put the socks on first, then the boots, surprised at how well both fit his feet. He was likely even larger now, based on the boots themselves, than the original size fourteen he’d worn, and yet the boots were a perfect fit. He laced them up quickly, aided by his ever-so-slightly more dexterous fingers, and noted the steel caps on the toes and the firmness of the soles. When he stood and put weight on the shoes, he was stunned by how soft they felt on his feet and how light they were.

Had it not been for the fact that he could see the boots on his feet, he’d have sworn he was wearing socks and slippers. Even fully laced, they were pleasantly flexible, allowing him to bend and twist his ankle enough to be comfortable, but not enough to hurt himself; a curious design that he was interested in learning the origins of. It would, he reasoned, be incredibly useful to be able to replicate the process when he eventually found proper clothes to wear.

Fully dressed and feeling remarkably less exposed thanks to it, Arcturus headed for the door with the same emphasis on quiet movement as before.

[Stealth] engaged!