GodlySkeleton

Soul of Blades - Chapter 30: BloodBerserker

“Kill them.”

Silence followed the gravelly command. None moved. They stood there in silence, the eight of them, three humans and four Arachnae and a strange, commanding Arachnae.

“I said, kill them.”

It spoke again. And still, no single figure present moved even an inch.

John, the town guard, looked nervously between Alex and the enemy blocking their path to freedom. “Shit! There are too many! What do we do!?” He hissed at Alex, eyes wide wide fear.

Alex’s gaze never left the four, his focus Hines on the venom dripping from each of their sharp digits. And the myriad eyes across their forms.

“We have to fight.” He summoned a sword from his Inventory with his free hand and softly tossed it hilt-first behind him toward the feet of the girl. She caught it in mid-air with a snap of motion. “Here, take this. And stay back.” Alex said, she would have to fight, eventually but she had seemed traumatised, dazed, and somewhat incoherent ever since he regained consciousness. If she clung to him ineffectually during the fight she would just get in the way. Better to have her safely ease into becoming an asset during danger by hanging back during the fighting than dive into becoming a liability by forcing her to fight while mentally unprepared, Alex reasoned. “John. Stay behind me, stay close and kill the stragglers as soon as you see them.”

John held his pristine sword fight and nodded with a grin, but Alex caught the slight tremble that shook his legs on the brief moment that it appeared.

Well, they would have to make this work, somehow. He would have to deal the brunt of the damage.

They were vastly outnumbered. The evolved Arachnae’s long legs caused them to tower over them all by a head. And the one at the back was undoubtedly strong, although how strong exactly, Alex had no clue. It would not make a difference either way. It was them or him. A big portion of his plan was dependent on John sticking behind him and doing his part, while he in turn did his best to not get struck by the Venom dripping from the large and abnormally long clawed hands.

A voice broke through the silence again. The large one, with the somewhat human face and fully formed arachnid mouth, spoke once more. Its voice was gravelly and alien, like plates of rough metal scraping together with timbre. “You won't? You want Me to kill them? To ‘try’? Impudent. Insubordinate. Drifter. They will all die.”

The large one at the back spoke, and the four before it charged. Two raced ahead while the latter two followed in formation. Their steps were timed perfectly, their movements eerily in sync, as if they could communicate through more than just mere words. “You will regret this.” The large one spoke again, its smooth facsimile of a face lacking the features needed to show emotion. But Alex felt as though he could feel sheer rage emanating from its voice.

Two in front. Two behind. The sound of patters and clicks rang through the dim cave as 32 blade-like feet sped towards them.

He charged forward to meet the four with John close behind. “Watch out for the claws!” He yelled, keeping his pace deceptively slow to match John. “One scratch’s enough to knock you out!”

John followed him with his sword raised, and a potent mix of fear and determination painted across his features as he yelled back “You think I don’t know that!?”

One, two, three more steps and Alex was before the first two, they were side by side, and each drew back an arm in preparation for an assault of some sort.

But Alex saw it all. He jumped, then leapt, and then he swung his blade.

Phoenix Leap. Sovereign Executioner. While he willed his skill’s executioner to appear before the target to the left, he targeted the Arachnae on his right, and his skill launched him under its envenomed swing towards its base, where many thick legs met the main body. He drew back his blade, clasped it with both hands and swung with all his might, aiming to dismember all eight limbs of his inhuman foe. Reality warped some paces beside him as his skills mana construct- the executioner- appeared and disappeared in a breath, its movements dictated and controlled by Alex’s own. The construct's blade connected at the same moment his own blade connected with its target.

And 16 limbs the size of men fell to the ground like toppled trees, each bisected cleanly. Screeches soon followed.

Alex rocketed past.

Two down, three more to go. He thought in the second he flew past droplets of suspended ichor. Now that he had dealt with the initial two, Alex couldn’t afford to hesitate or pay attention to what was happening behind him. He just hoped John was quick on the uptake and capable of dealing with both of the downed and disabled Arachnae- even without their limbs they would still be dangerous, for someone at John's level, a single strike would be all it would take to end the fight.

[You have defeated level 25 Arachne Juvenile Worker x2]

He inwardly felt a brief moment of relief as the notification alleviated his concerns over John and the girl's safety.

A wall of black chitin raced to meet him.

Alex met the second pair with the same attack, target the right, double body skill attack to the left. Let's go. Sovereign Executioner. He thought in mid-swing. Alex’s blade cleaved through the eight thick legs of his targeted enemy. But the leftmost Arachnae Jumped.

It hurtled over his Skills construct towards John with a leap of its own, and angled its legs to a point, all of them aiming downward intent on crushing the Gaurd as it landed. It had learned from witnessing Alex's first attack and evaded.

Alex would've raced back to help, but he was distracted by a dark reflective grasping hand the size of his head milliseconds away from cutting into him. The group's leader had taken advantage of his moment of distraction and attacked. Boundless Dodge, he thought while spinning, causing his mana to seize his body and drastically enhance his movements. As he spun, he extended his arm to swing his sword and thought Mana Blade for good measure. His brightly lit blade cleaved through the commanding Arachne- the worker- with ease. It fell to the ground in two pieces, twitching as it curled in on itself in death throes.

[You have defeated level 29 Arachne Juvenile Worker]

[Level 36 > Level 37]

[Strength +4, Dexterity+4, intelligence+6, unassigned stats +4]

Huh. Alex thought, I must've been pretty close to the edge of levelling up from experience gained from the last battle.

He turned to see the brutalized remains of the Arachnae Workers he had disabled, and both John and the girl hacking into the final one with reckless abandon. The pair of them hardly used any technique as they swung into the struggling creature, bisecting its limbs and deflecting attacks with what looked like nothing but desperate rage. As far as sword techniques went, Alex noticed that the girl was even worse than John, she darted around him and the Juvenile Worker with surprising speed but treated her weapon as if it was an axe or a club. Screaming as she struck wildly.

How is she faster than John? And surviving the venom… That doesn’t make any sense  unless she’s higher level and frontloaded all of her stats into dexterity, or has a feat that does something similar. Maybe she has a passive that boosts speed? Or a passive against poison and venom resistance? Alex wondered about the girls class and stats, and miraculous survival, and made a mental not to enquire about it later.

John raised his sword high into the air, a crazed look in his bloodshot gaze, as ichor drawn from the fallen Arachnae coalesced around his upheld weapon, the simple longsword became covered in ichor and grew in size until it became a dark greatsword, with a reflective sheen that seemed to give it an almost glass-like quality.

It crashed into the Arachnae Worker and cleaved it in two.

As the monster fell, the girl hurriedly raced towards the fallen corpses, she soon returned with 5 slightly larger marbles, all of them carrying the faintest glow- visible to the naked eye- she handed the largest one to Alex and muttered the words, “Thanks for taking care of us.”

Alex scratched his head sheepishly. He really did feel bad for her, for John too. He would try his best to make sure they all survived. No- scratch that, he would make sure of it. “Don’t mention it, Kid.” He said.

John fell to the ground in a huff near the corpse of his latest victim. “Sorry,” he wheezed as Alex drew closer. “Got carried away by my class. And I can only do that a few times before I'm out of mana, just give me a second.”

“We don't have a second.” Alex placed John's arm over his shoulder and hefted him up. “And we don't know whether more will be coming. We have to start looking for a way out of here.”

“What’s your class by the way? Was that an Elemental Blade skill I saw you using?” John seemed to be regaining vigour with each step, and the girl leaned forward curiously at his words.

“I’m a SpellSword. Pretty good with a blade, and a bit of unarmed combat.” Alex responded, still not keen on revealing his secrets. He liked these two, but there were too many variables telling them his class could create if they made it outside, and telling them wouldn't improve the situation in which they found themselves in any way. A thought struck Alex as he hoisted John towards the edge of the dim cave, and he asked a question of his own. “You said you got carried away by your class? What class did you choose?” Alex had heard him mumble his class name before, but hadn’t quite caught it.

John offered a weak smile. “Blood-Berserker. The blood spilled around us makes me stronger, doesn't matter who or what the blood belongs to- if it spills, I get stronger. It’s a Rare class. Can you believe that?” He thumbed his chest in pride as he struggled to find his footing, leaning into Alex’s carry. “I lucked out and won a skill crystal pretty early in the tutorial quests. Had to charge into the frontlines naked, nobody else wanted to take the quest. Can you believe that? I had the first skill crystal and one of the first rare classes.” He summoned another smile and straightened his back, his chest welling up with pride. “A few others ended up getting rare’s or even uniques and higher, but those guys were crazy.”

Alex offered a weak smile at the sentiment. His thoughts were drifting to his latest notification; he had some stats to apply.

They began moving towards the exit, and the girl silently followed, her sword held in a poor mimicry of the way she had witnessed Alex hold his own.

Deep within the heart of the Arachne Colony of the Hidden Queen, surrounded by hundreds of enemies, each one more deadly than the last, the three of them headed out and looked for an exit.

As they walked another thought struck Alex, and he turned to ask John a poignant question.

“What's a class milestone?”

Time-Smith - Chapter 24: ClubSwords, Resurrection and… Minions?

Authors Note: Moving house at the moment so it’s been difficult getting chapters posted, but I’m aiming to (struggle) and have 10 chapters for Soul of Blades out this week, and 1 more chapter for Time-Smith out on Friday. Enjoy.

[Subskill - Create Flesh] allowed Evan to do just that; he could consume his mana to create flesh from nothing. He concentrated, and sensed a shift as a microscopic fleck of muscle sprouted into existence in the space between his open palms. It hung there, floating and invisible to the naked eye, but Evan could feel its Every aspect. With a flex of his will, the flesh sprouted into a mass the size of his arm, and his mana dipped prodigiously, by about a fifth of what he understood to be his total supply.

The flesh floated in front of him, now very visible. It pulsed as layers of skin and muscle too thick and unstructured to resemble anything seen in nature twisted against itself. It didn’t even have bones.

“Ew, what the hells is that!?” Lucia walked over with grotesque fascination at the mound of pulsing flesh that had just sprouted into the air before Evan. She eyed the mass of muscle and veins as one would eye a horrific accident.

“It’s a Subskill. I get that it looks gross, but—“ Evan concentrated, accessing his second Subskill, and altered the shape, removed the nerves, and changed the muscle, skin and protein structure of the flesh until it became a sword made of pure dragon scale. “But it’s pretty useful. It can probably instantly regrow limbs too. Maybe with enough mana I could make a clone?” Definitely not a good idea, though. He thought, as he pictured the process of clone creation. Without understanding how the brain works, what’s to stop any clone I make going evil and trying to take over my life? I don’t think it would have any skills, but it would have all of my abilities, and it would also have no real reason to listen to me. Evan knew that the slightest error or deviation in recreating a brain could create vast differences in personalities. He needed to understand the intricacies of a brain and how to create-or recreate one. He would have to take another trip to through the safety of time to visit R’hazul and study everything to do with the brain to figure out how he could make a subservient clone. Any attempts at clone or minion creation would have to be put on hold for now. Even with three reserves of mana he’d gained from his skills and a decade of mana absorbed from petty kills of countless forest creatures, he didn’t have the mana reserves necessary for such a task.  And to be honest, he wasn't in a rush to take a risk and accidentally make an Evil twin.

Markus walked over and inspected the dragonscale sword Evan had created, It consisted of overlapping plates of scales, finely pressed into the general shape of a sword and hilt with no guard. Markus ran his finger along its edge and frowned as Lucia and Evan debated the possible benefits and disadvantages of creating an army of minions through his new subskill.

”Yeah, but that’s the thing, what’s to stop them from eating us alive-“ Evan was interrupted by Markus’s sharp statement

“It‘s not very SHARP, is it? Is it a club?“ Markus held the makeshift blade and twisted it in the dim light. “Are we gonna bash the Armour knights to death with these things?” He raised his brow in quizzical skepticism before pressing it against the ground and leaning on it, testing its weight. “I don’t think that will work.”

Between their words, the soft winds buffeted them once more, the dungeons caress an invitation to delve further into its deathly depths.

”No, it’s just an experiment.” Evan sighed in response through the calming breeze. “It’s not much use for now, but once I figure it out it‘ll be pretty powerful.” He took back the blunt facsimile of a sword and engaged his second [Subskill - Imbue Flesh] to reduce it to fine dust particles.

[Subskill- Imbue Flesh], allowed Evan to imbue his skill into any flesh, living or otherwise. he had experimented by cutting off a piece of dead skin and then testing his subskills effects. He could alter the dead flesh in anyway he could conceive or understand, but he could not bring it back to life; he didn’t know how. He also experimented with the subskills ability to imbue his skill into the flesh of the living, and attempted to imbue the flesh of his friends, much to Markus’s immediate excitement, and then disappointment as he realised it was just a test, and he wasn’t getting his wings. “Bah, I don’t need them anyway. I’m pretty close to figuring it out on my own” he shrugged and went to stand guard as Evan tested his new capabilities on Lucia.

And in the meantime Evan had made another discovery. When a person resisted the invasive mana of [Flesh Smith]’s subskill, it took a Herculean effort of concentration, will, and control for his skill to pierce thier mana. It took too much time, and he was half drained of his mana in the end. His hopes of utilising [Flesh Smith] as a deadly weapon to disable enemies with a touch was shattered. He could only use it on already disabled or incapacitated enemies, and what was the point of that? No point wasting precious mana on a monster when a particularly  pointy stick would do the job just fine.

There was some good news as to how the subskill functioned, however,  if someone was willing and accepting of his mana it was much more easy to use, even more so than when he had healed and altered Lucia. The subskill had streamlined his capabilities, and now, if a person was willing a touch was really all it took. His skill would break past willing participants defences as if they had none to begin with. But the true challenge still remained in making changes to their physical structure and forms. It would not be good for immediate combat, but he had already seen the benefits. It was a powerful healing subskill, and with the blastema cells and the regeneration they offered, he’d only have to use it once. It could potentially save all of their lives a multitude of times.

He called Markus over to him, and explained his plans to give him regenerating cells, and highly oxygenated blood. He asked Lucia to defend them both while his consciousness sifted through Markus’s cells. Markus whooped and hollered in celebration before Lucia hissed at him to stop the noise and keep quiet, not willing to fight suits of armour alone while Evan made the enhancements.

Evan proceeded to make the enhancements, and the world around him faded as his consciousness became one with the current of mana that shocked through his body, from the blazing sun of dark mana in his heart, all the way to Markus’s strangely weighted mana.

As Evan’s consciousness navigated through thick pockets of Markus’s dense mana, he wondered how mana could feel so solid, and so heavy. He felt as though he was back in the desert with R’Hazul, sifting through thick sand.

He mutedly studied the unique nature of Markus’s cells. They were different in the way that he had learned all peoples cells slightly differed from each other. He studied them for a moment before he began to alter his friends regenerative capabilities to unnatural levels.

He made the final changes to Markus’s DNA, physiology, and body to allow it to regenerate from blows that would fell most men. Or at least, most men without famous skills like [Second Chance], [Healing], [Regeneration], or the rumored and heavily debated [Undying] skill.

Evan honestly thought that skill sucked pretty bad. What was the point of living forever if your body never healed? Unless you kept a healer on hand at all times or somehow managed to evolve your [Undying] skill, It would only be a matter of time before you became a grotesque undead. In his opinion it was one of the worst skills rumored to be out there.

He continued manipulating Markus's DNA at the cellular level, permanently altering his genes with finishing touches. He mentally sighed, satisfied with his work. He had targeted specific genes responsible for cell division and growth, enhancing the capabilities of Markus’s blastema cells until they no longer resembled that of a human. In all honesty, only monsters or inhumans had cells this advanced. By introducing a lesser version of the modified BetterBody pathways critical to tissue regeneration, Evan had made Markus's new blastema cells able to work at unprecedented speeds and efficiencies, allowing him to recover from otherwise fatal injuries.

Although honestly doubted Markus would ever really need it, but there was always the risk of mana depletion. It would be an additional layer of protection. Better safe than sorry, the guy's kind of overpowered, in his own way. But at least with this Only instant-death blows, decapitation or massive simultaneous damage to multiple vital organs could kill us… which the suits of armour are more than capable of inflicting. Evan sighed in resignation. This dungeon just wasn’t fair. On the outside, in the city slums, they would be a force to be reckoned with, only challenged by adventurers or the most senior of the slums crime syndicate members.

Either way, Lucia was now much more harder to kill, Evan had practically a become walking miniature juvenile dragon, and Markus had joined their ranks as an human regenerator with enhanced stamina.

Wait, if we have kids, wouldn’t they all have a lesser version of natural regeneration? Evan wondered as his consciousness retreated from Markus’s cells. Hells, what would happen if I had kids? Would they be overpowered, multi-skilled, geniuses? Or tyrants? What if they were hunted down? Evan decided to cross that bridge when he got to it, and shoved the thought into the recesses of his mind. Eh, I could always just change them back to normal. Or start my own country or something. That’s future Evans' problem. Sorry buddy.

Evans consciousness returned to his body, and he spoke a single command to Lucia and Markus. “Protect me.”

Markus opened his eyes with a yawn “You done with the changes? Already? I don’t really feel any different” he inspected his arm, and then the skin on his chest. “I guess I’ll take your word for it.” He looked skeptical, but pleased.

Evan however, didn’t move or respond, he remained seated. And before he even opened his eyes, he enacted the final part of his DungeonArtifactRetrieval plan;

Time travel.

He had planned on using Time-Travel to scout ahead and explore the dungeon without risking their lives, but doing so came at a steep cost. That costs was the growth of his friends.

Initially he had thought that without any real experience, they would likely fall behind him in skill, and anny gains they made before he returned to the present would be lost. So he had tried to test the waters And enter the dungeons first level to gain experience for anll three of them before reversing time. But that had been a mistake- and a success, of sorts.

Despite the growth of all three of them, Evan had learned a harsh lesson from Lucia’s brush with death. And the beginnings of a plan had formed shortly after. He had yet to explore his subskill [Postcognition - Echoes of the Past]. But he had a theory- several theories- and they were all backed up by his recent first hand experiences.

According to Gideon, his skill reconstructed a version of the past, his own private universe- completely identical to the one they existed in from the tiniest molecule to the furthest stars. A universe trapped in time; where history repeated itself.

But he had inadvertently found a way to take it a step further.

If he traveled only seconds, or minutes into the past. The Subskill would not cease, it would strain and twist at a breaking point when it reached the present, pressuring Evans mind and body in ways a normal human couldn’t withstand. He suspected a normal human might collapse, have an endless seizure, become crippled, or simply bleed from every orifice and die, if they tried to force [Postcognition] into absorbing so much information and showing them anything other than the past. But Evan wasn’t a normal human. His body and longe since been able to withstand things a normal human couldn’t fathom. not only had he increased its capabilities beyond human baseline, but in a sense he had entered the realm of monsters, if only by a single step. Through his enhanced biology his subskill would snap free of its constraints and extend beyond the present, and with further improvements to his form; his subskill could become limitless.

And then he could experience the future in any way he wished, and receive all it had to offer for as long as his mana would allow.

Evan focused, his eyes still closed, and reached for the sun of mana deep within his brain. But instead of allowing it to run free as he had in the past, he focused all of his will on containing it.

The skill raged against his control, and he visibly trembled as held firm, but he didn’t yield; if he allowed the skills mana to run rampant, who knew where and when it would take him?

No, for this he had to be precise.

Evan concentrated, every aspect of his being and willpower focused on the task of wrestling the skills mana, sweat dripped down his head as he kept it contained, he allowed the barest trickle of mana to spread through his body.

A single drop of the skills mana seeped through his being and spread, reaching all corners of his psyche and diluting his soul.

Evan felt a brief sense of vertigo and opened his eyes to see the world shift and blur in a moment, becoming a blend of colors, experiences, and strokes before settling in place in the blink of an eye.

It was then that Markus spoke.

Again.

“You done with the changes? Already? I don’t really feel any different” Markus inspected his arm, and then the skin on his chest. “I guess I’ll take your word for it.” He looked skeptical, but pleased.

It worked. Evan had expected as much, but he couldn’t be sure, the slightest mistake in handling his mana would have sent him back to R’Hazul, or to Lady Sariel, or somewhere else. Maybe even somewhere worse.

But it had worked. He’d been right.

He was in his own private version of the past, and in a few seconds the present, and in a few seconds more; the future. He had time traveled.

Intentionally.

Evan rose to his feet as he surveyed the surroundings, feeling slightly better about their collective odds.

But in the Godfell dungeon, their lives were still at risk from every battle. Even against the dungeons first monsters, the ‘weakest’. Even with naturally armoured, regenerating bodies.

They could still die at any moment.

These artifacts better be worth it. Evan grumbled internally, but even as he grumbled, he still felt budding excitement at the prospect of gaining an artifact of his very own. 

Gaining an artifact was almost like gaining another skill. They were heavily desired, and craved by all. In some cases, where they carried echoes of divinity; they could even grant temporary subskills.

He couldn’t wait.

Time-Smith - Chapter 23: Aftermath

The air in the dungeon crackled with spent mana, the metallic taste of it still clinging to the trio's tongues. Lucia, her body mended thanks to Evan's [Flesh Smith]ing, grimaced on the floor as a breeze swept through the dungeon, rustling her hair and tugging at her worn clothes. The wind, fickle and capricious, slipped through the cavernous hallways, varied from a gentle caress to a bold push. A hint of the dungeons distaste carried through the breeze at the interlopers successes.

[Feat Recognised!]

[Skill Evolution achieved!]

[Subskill: Imbue Flesh obtained!]

[Subskill: Create Flesh obtained!]

Evan, blinked in surprise at the notifications from the system. And from his position on the floor, studied the potent divine mana that surged through him in great detail. The foreign golden mana was as unyielding and strange as he remembered. He resolved to explore his new subskills, once he knew everyone was ok.

He studied his companions, himself, and their conditions.

Lucia, Markus, and Evan all sat amidst the wreckage of the dungeon. Sprawled across the rubble-strewn floor, exhaustion clinging to their bodies but victory lighting their tired faces. Their bodies, trembling and bathed in a sweaty sheen of exertion, weighed heavily against the cold stone floor of the dungeon. Except for Markus's, of course. Markus, sprawled on his back, bathed in the soft fluttering light of white flames that lined the dungeon walls, boasted into the stillness of the cavern, a wide grin stretching across his face.

"Did you see that?!" He laughed, the sound bouncing off the dungeon walls. His chest heaved with exertion, but there was an unmistakeable look of of pride in his eyes. "I knew I was the best."

Markus, his voice a cocktail of fatigue and exhilaration, continued “That was intense, huh?” His gloating filled the space, punctuated by him using his newfound subskill, [Density Domain]. He manipulated the mass of a gigantic sword, balancing it on the tip of his finger as if it were as light as a feather. The sword, a behemoth of metal, twirled with a grace that belied its size.

Much to the curiosity of Evan and Lucia. "How are you doing that?" Lucia asked, leaning closer to inspect the sword.

"Its my new subskill" Markus beamed. "[Density Domain]. The Divine System, gave it to me." He emphasised each word, drawing them out exaggeratedly as he turned from Lucia to Evan, then back again.

"Because I'm the best, obviously." He added, turning away from them with the smugness of a farmer with a free horse.

In response, Evan, nursing his own aching body, replied dryly, "Well, if we're sharing achievements, I've had two system notifications and three subskills." His words fell like rain on Markus's parade, dousing Markus' roaring fire of pride, reducing it to smouldering embers. The boastful flames in the latter's eyes momentarily dimming.

A snicker slipped past Lucia's lips, watching the interaction. The sound, light and genuine, bounced across the silent hall.

Just as they resumed their laughter, Markus, pouted and casually kicked a massive piece of rubble in dismay, sending it flying at a nearby pillar at unbelievable speed. A small portion of the pillar, sturdy and ancient, exploded under the impact, showering the area with a rain of rocks and dust.

Their laughter abruptly ceased as they watched the spectacle, their expressions shifting from amusement to surprise. The resultant shockwave had caught them off guard, Lucia and Evan both turning to gape at Markus, their eyes wide in surprise and newfound respect.

Then, among the silence and supposed peace, Evan scanned the surroundings, ever watchful for danger.

The atmosphere of the dungeon seemed to breathe with them, although at a much slower pace, he surmised. Each inhale and exhale manifesting in gusts of wind sweeping through the cavernous hallways at irregular intervals, a rhythm as unpredictable as their journey.

Adras's breath. Who was Adras? Outside of the dungeon, he had never heard of the name.

And the dungeon itself, was a beast. Its monstrous architecture of archaic pillars and murals hauntingly beautiful yet filled with strange macabre unease.

Now, with the past battles and entrance into the dungeon, Evan knew that there was death seeped into every inch of this place. It ruined the beauty for him.

His watchful gaze returned to the ancient murals depicting wars, wars fought in a bygone era. Depicting what Evan was beginning to suspect was a world war. Those remnants of a world long forgotten, tales of battles against a colossal figure, so large and omnipotent, stirred a strange suspicion within Evan.

Was it a dead god they were looking at? The notion curled in his mind like smoke, wisps of thought that danced around the edges of comprehension.

Is that what it took to kill a god? A world at war?

The idea of such power shook Evan to his core, but also left him curious, hungry for more knowledge.

"How the hell did you manage to fight three of those crazy living suits of armor?" Lucia asked, turning to Markus, shaking her head in disbelief.

Markus stretched out on the stone floor, every muscle aching. His head rested on his upturned arm as he peered through the flickering light cast by the strange, white flames illuminating their surroundings. "Well," he started, a grin spreading across his face, "it wasn't easy."

"The metal giants fought in unity," Markus began, his voice brimming with confidence. "Their precision, it was something else. Each stroke of their swords was like a gust of wind, sometimes a light breeze, and at other times, a fierce gale. Always quick. Always killing blows. You guys definitely would've died" He added with what Evan noted was a surprisingly serious expression.

He wasn't joking?

Lucia merely smirked, leaning more heavily against a pillar, her damaged clothes rustling softly, billowing out slightly when a breeze picked its way through the dungeon hallways.

"But, my prowess, you know," Markus continued, his voice growing louder, "is unmatched. I danced between their attacks, the stone beneath my feet was my stage. Easy. I was the whirlwind, the tempest, controlling my density to slip through their defences."

Evan laughed softly, his eyes twinkling, "Yeah, more like barely dodging their blows. I saw you stumble."

Markus shot Evan a mock glare, "Please. I was tired by that point, then you guys came in and cleaned up all my hard work."

Lucia let out a small chuckle, "Of course, Markus."

The tale, painted in broad strokes of daring and courage, held Lucia and Evan in a mix of awe and scepticism. Still, they couldn't deny the evident strength of their friend, forever changed by their foray into the dungeon.

A gust of wind danced through the dungeon's halls once more, stirring their locks and billowing their garments in a soundless ballet. Evans eyes lingered on the murals adorned on the walls.

Later. He would Investigate them later.

"Can't believe we made it out alive," Markus muttered, his voice lost in the dark expanse. His eyes were caught by the red gleam of Evan's gaze, eyes that once held a familiar boyish glint, now radiated an inexplicable power.

Lucia sat cross-legged, fingers prodding her thighs, her eyes wide with astonishment. "You guys…" Her voice was barely a whisper. "This isn't the cakewalk we thought it'd be." her voice carrying a note of grim resignation. The hint of fear in her eyes spoke volumes of the battle's intensity. Her fingers traced the edges of her forgotten wound, her painful reminder of her own carelessness, and the battle's brutality. She resolved to never make that mistake again. Next time, she would be ready.

Strength surged within Evan, resonating with their unspoken fear. "You're right, Lucia. We underestimated it." He confessed, his eyes returning to the murals. His senses ached at the knowledge of their task's magnitude.

"Gods, I didn't think it would be this tough," Markus agreed, breaking the silence that hung heavily between them. The cold sting of the stone floor was his grounded truth, his back leaning against an ancient pillar. Cooled sweat and fatigue still painted his face with a harsh realism. It was odd to see Markus admit anything, the two turned to face him.

Markus glanced back at Lucia, a smile now tugging at his lips. "I thought you were a goner," he teased. "You almost had me thinking you'd left us to go adventuring in the afterlife, Luci." Lucia blushed, her fingers curling into a fist in a playful retort.

She chuckled, a sound more mentally fatigued than jovial, "I almost thought the same of you, Markus."

"It was a tough fight," Evan agreed, his voice a bare whisper in the cavernous hallway. Markus grunted in agreement. Lucia, though quiet, was still visibly shaken.

Then, curiously, she raised her hand before her, and suddenly clasped it shut.

Her fingers, and palm, was a blur, closing so fast they barely saw it move. Her grip was so fierce that it created a loud snap, like a whip cutting through the air, creating a small white cloud of dust around her fist, as a rush of wind and pressure erupted from her hand, catching them all off guard and causing them to take a step back. Markus clapped his hands over his ears in surprise, while Evan had an abashed look on his face.

She gasped, her gaze darting to Evan, her face a mixture of awe and terror. "W-what did you do? What did you do to me?!" She traced her hands over her slimmer, stronger body in shock. Her gaze shifting between Evan and her hand. A shiver of uncertainty ran through her as her fingers explored her newly enhanced physique, marvelling at the sculpted lines of her form, confusion dancing across her eyes. The once petite woman now sported a body that rivalled that of an elite warrior."...what did you do?" she stammered, her tone much lower.

Evan sighed, and smiled. "That, Lucia, was a 'sonic boom'."

Evan's smile then softened, his eyes alight with admiration. At both her and his work. "Your [Iron Grip], Lucia. I made some...improvements."

"You were dying," Evan began, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the dungeon air. "I altered your bone structure and added more hinges and jaw-like bones to your hands than I can count. Essentially, I supercharged your 'Iron Grip' skill."

"I also had to repair your brain," Evan continued, looking apologetic. "I added and increased the connections and synapses. You should be able to react almost as fast as I can now."

Lucia's touch grazed her stomach, her thighs. Her body felt different. Leaner, stronger. She was both horrified and fascinated.

Evan hesitated, then added, "I... also enhanced your body, only slightly. I didn't have time." He avoided her gaze. "I made you stronger, faster. With [Flesh Smith]."

Evan then shrugged sheepishly. "Your brain had been deprived of blood and oxygen for too long. I had to change your genes, your blood... your whole body." He paused, gathering his thoughts. "I adjusted your bone structure. And," he gestured at her slim form, "I guess, gave you year's worth of training and adventuring's results. With a little extra"

Lucia twisted and turned continuing to look at her body, her gaze filled with wonder and fear. Evan continued, "Your body, your brain now needs less oxygen, less blood... while producing more. You'll probably almost never get tired, and should be able to hold your breath for hours. You're almost a new being, Lucia."

Lucia listened, her initial shock fading to fascination, he'd altered her blood and genes, her brain's synapses, even her bone structure. Her fingers caressing the sleek muscle of her thighs.

"But what about this?" Lucia gestured to her body, a mixture of awe and confusion evident on her face. "Why do I look different?"

"Some changes were consequential, others… I thought you might like." Evan shrugged. "Your skin and hair improvement were side effects. As for your lean figure… it was an unintended result of the changes I made. I added a thin layer of dragon-scale muscle fibers into your muscles. It provides a layer of protection similar to leather Armor. It probably wont do much in this dungeon, but its better than nothing."

Markus sat there, his gaze alternating between Lucia and Evan. "You can do that?"

Lucia paused, a potent mix of emotions dancing across her new features "I... I'm not sure how i feel about this... But... Thank you for saving me."

Evan merely nodded, his gaze back on the murals. Lucia still looked at her body, her hands tracing the unfamiliar contours, a slow smile creeping onto her face. "I like my new thighs," she said, her voice barely audible, her voice stilll filled with awe.

As her hands explored her newly chiselled form, Markus added with curiosity, "You look like you've been training for a lifetime, Lucia. Like Evan but without the dodgy scars."

"Hey. Keep it up and ill give you a butt for a head" Evan laughed, his red-lit eyes sparkling with mirth. "Lucia, You were bleeding out, your brain was starved. I had no choice."

"You'll do what?!" Markus exclaimed, disgusted. He turned to Lucia, "She's like... super Lucia!? A Silver Rank!?" He looked back at Evan, a challenging glint in his eyes, "Do me next!" Markus’s voice held an excited tremor. "I want wings!" The air around him vibrated and warped with each word, no doubt some strange application of his subskill. Markus paused, an angry look suddenly appearing on his face as he considered Evans last threat. "No butt stuff!" he added.

Evan and Lucia fell to the ground in hysterics.

Evan chuckled "Okay, Okay, and i was joking. You don't need wings, Markus, you seem strong enough" Evan met his gaze, then pointed to the armour scattered around them. "You already did that. But if you insist. Maybe later." Markus didn't look entirely satisfied, but nodded nonetheless.

The laughter faded, replaced by a sombre silence as Evan's gaze met Lucia's. His voice was quiet, almost a whisper. "We can turn back, you know."

But Markus shook his head, interrupting. "We've come this far, we can't turn back now."

They were quiet for a moment, the silence broken only by the soft white flickering flames of the walls and a gentle gust of wind billowing around them, almost caressing them.

Putting them at ease.

Markus stood up. "We can't go back. Not now. Not after this."

"We're in this together, then? All of us?" Evan asked. He looked at Lucia, who nodded, her expression determined.

"Yeah," she said. "We are." Lucia's voice broke the silence. "We go forward. We finish what we started."

"Alright," Evan said, a sense of resolve settling around them. "Then let's keep moving."

As the trio stood, their bodies weary yet spirits unbroken, they made their decision.

Markus nodded, his determination evident in his gaze. "Three subskills? Two notifications? I need to catch up to you, Evan. This'll be a piece of cake." His voice wavered at the last part, the lie hidden under a strained chuckle.

Evan looked at them, his glowing red eyes holding a newfound respect. "Alright then. Lets go." The wind whistled a faint melody, as if in approval.

With a shared look of conviction, they ventured deeper into the cavernous abyss of the dungeon. Peering into its abyssal depths.

And it peered back.

Time-Smith - interlude: Bulwark vs Living Armour - Part 3

Silence enveloped the stone battlefield, the only movement the flickering torches, and the collection of dust and rubble that tumbled through the dungeons corridor. The broken pieces of stone did not move by their own will, or even the combatants. No, they were carried along by the dungeons strong winds. As if eager to see the struggle itself, the winds flowed past the combatants frozen forms. One human, and three of the dungeons weaker suits of living armour were battling, and it seemed to be a desperate struggle. And now, it observed as the human began to do something strange.

***

Markus clenched his fists and focused, feeling his body grow denser. The weight of his magic bore down on him, enhancing his strength as he tried to channel it into his sword. He pressed his mana against the barrier of his form, expanding it, yearning for it to break free from his skin and increased his density even further than before.

He advanced on them, and the ground cracked in acceptance of his charge, but the suits of armour were not intimidated. They merely shifted, the blue flames of their eyes flaring, and their swords flicking out in unison to knock Markus off balance. He stumbled, his grip on his sword loosening as he lost control of the mana in his sword hand. His mana stopped expanding and became rooted under his skin, and inside his form as it no longer made tried to break free.

His opponents gracefully evaded his sword swings as if they were child's play. They flowed like a single entity, striking with precision and unity, while he struggled to breach their defences. Despite his newfound strength, Markus couldn't reach them. Their movements were too synchronised. It was frustrating, infuriating even. He had to do something drastic, he needed to change the tide, and take control. Or this would be death by a thousand cuts. He needed something, some kind of edge. [Density Control] just wasn’t enough, and what could he do with [Gardening]?

Nothing.

He needed to extend [Density Control] beyond the confines of his body, and into his sword.

With singular focus, Markus began to devote all of his will, attention, and mana towards expanding his skills influence outwards and collapsing its mana in on itself. It felt like his skill was breathing outwards, and then inwards. It was a constant cycle of growth and compression. Each time his mana exploded outwards, he pushed it against the confines of his skill; against the barrier of his bodily form. It was growing with each pulse while constantly increasing in density. His mana pulsed outward then compressed towards his core, like a violent heartbeat. He willed his mana to burst and break past his skills limits once more, and pushed until he felt it pressing against his skin and teetering on the edge of breakthrough.

By now, he sank inches into the rocky ground with every move. He was so close, but something was missing. What was it? What would help him break past his limits?

He did not have time to think as the armour pounced upon him again, leaping in an arc toward him.

Markus clenched his fists in pain. This wasn’t working. In a fit of desperation, he closed his eyes, raised his arms in defence, and focused all of his mana and will on [Density Control]. He began constantly increasing his defence and hardiness while urging his mana to expand and break past his skin. He continued the cycle his mana and ignored their approach. He had to make this work.

He felt the numb sensation of impacts and slashes as the armours attacked his prone form. But he pressed on.

He was scared, terrified even, yet he refused to give up. He had come too far to let the armour defeat him. Dense mana coursed through his veins. Every action, every strike he’d made up to this moment had been fuelled by a burning determination to save his party, to defy the odds stacked against him. And witnessing Evan, who surpassed his limits, had caused Markus's resolve hardened. He yearned to push the boundaries of his own skill, to make his sword an extension of his density control. He could bare these blows for a few more seconds, he was so close to a breakthrough, he could feel it. With unwavering determination, he prepared for one final push.

His skill, [Density Control], was limited to empowering his body alone. The priests [Appraisal] had told him the weight of his mana would remained trapped, unable to pierce through his form and infuse any weapon. The [Appraisal] had claimed that was not the skills intended function.

Markus had chosen to ignore the restriction. With a surge of focus and mana, he pushed outward with everything he had, his core of [Density Control] pulsing like a living thing. It expanded in all directions, pressing against his skin on all sides, and the barrier holding his skill in place rippled. Painfully.

Markus gasped in shock and fell to his knees, his sword clattering to the ground beside him.

It happened in an instant. His skill snapped free of the confines of his body, and past his skin into the air around him. A bubble of dense mana, a constant shifting of magic pouring from the core in his abdomen, enveloped him and everything an arms length from him in a thick, constant sphere.

Marks could feel the density of everything around him. In a bubble of dense mana, a constant shifting of magic pouring from the core in his abdomen, enveloped him and everything an arms length from him in a thick, constant sphere. He could feel the density of the air around him, the stone beneath his feet, and the scraps of metal broken free from his attackers. A sphere of [Density Control] surrounded him on all sides.

Markus embraced the sensation with awe. He felt as though he could influence anything within the sphere of mana surrounding him with his skill, even the very air. Everything that was within his sphere of mana, was his to control.

Every part of his being felt solid, more present, as if the weight of the world rested upon his shoulders. With each step he took, the rocky stone ground cracked and stuttered beneath his feet, the weight of his density causing the very earth to yield. The living suits of armour stalked him, closing in slowly, carefully, their blades glistening with malice, only managing to leave light scratches upon his resilient form, barely drawing a trickle of blood.

As he rose from the dust and broken rock beneath him, Markus looked up at the three suits of armour, and struck the closest one as it tried to strike him. As it struck, It was only an arms length away and within the influence of his sphere. His fist surged with density, and a force of dense air extended from it—an explosive force that ripped through the air, collided with a suit of Armor and sending it hurtling into the darkness, its twisted metal casting shadows against the cracked stone pillars. The armour spun, like a discarded puppet, before crashing in the darkness with a resounding metallic thud, spinning as it disappeared from sight.

Markus felt the world within his sphere of influence, every molecule a testament to his control. He condensed the air into an invisible barrier that met the remaining armour’s glistening swords. The blades slowed, dragging as though cutting through a wall of solid stone. Their effortless dance of death now stilted, hindered.

Darting forward, Markus intensified his grip on the hilt of his sword, a silent command to increase its density. He struck with newfound force, an echo of thunder reverberating through the chamber as his blade collided with metal hide.

The armour recoiled.

Markus did not let the opportunity slip by. He weaved around one of the opponents, seizing it by its gauntlet. He shifted his density, and increased his grip, making his hand a vice that it could not escape from. He used the suit of armour as a makeshift shield against the others. Blows rained upon it, hacking off pieces of the armour until Markus was forced to relinquish his grip. The suit retaliated, raising its sword high, the sapphire flame in its eyes flickering ominously.

He commanded the density of his own body to harden. The blade struck him, and skidded off him as if he was made of iron.

But he felt it. The drain.

His mana was depleting rapidly. He launched one final attack, commanding the density of his sword to reach its pinnacle. With a burst of energy, he swung, cleaving through two of the suits of armour. They fell, their metal carcasses clattering noisily onto the stone floor.

Yet, the final suit remained, twin swords whirling menacingly.

Exhaustion was creeping in. His vision blurred, his breath ragged. The sphere flickered, threatening to recede. The last suit lunged, blades aimed to kill.

In the blink of an eye, a figure materialised in front of Markus.

Evan.

He unleashed a barrage of forceful punches that sent shockwaves through the air, each one causing the armour to shudder violently. He struck the armour upwards, and in a blink, reappeared above it, punching it back down towards the floor. Lucia joined the fray, her movements a blur as she aided Evan in dismantling the final adversary.

Together, they tore the suit of armour apart until it was nothing but legs and scrap metal. The final blow came from Evan, his fist crushing the glowing crystal at its core.

Markus sagged, relief and exhaustion washing over him in waves. The fight was over. His vision faded as unconsciousness claimed him, a soft smile on his lips as the final surge of mana burst within him, gifting him with information and understanding.

***

Time stood still as the enemy fell, their defeat etched into the annals of the dungeons walls.

The dungeon observed as the last attacker fell to the ground, defeated. Markus stood there, panting heavily as he surveyed the scene. He turned back to see Evan and Lucia rising from the broken and defeated form of the remaining suit of armour. His body was covered in blood, and he knew that the wounds would take a while to heal. But he had no regrets. He smiled weakly as he fell to his knees in exhaustion and collapsed. And as he faded into blissful unconsciousness, surges of mana assaulted his core, filling and expanding them until one of them burst with meaning, imprinting its message into his thoughts.

Markus passed out, and his fading smile stretched even wider.

[Feat Recognised!]

[Skill Evolution achieved!]

[Subskill: Density Domain obtained!]

Oh. He thought, as his mind embraced the inked blackness of unconsciousness so that’s what it feels like

Soul of Blades - Chapter 28 & 29: The Lifeless Executioner / The Lost Berserker

Alex lay on the ground dying, in a cave based in the heart of an Arachnae colony as a strange girl held his last healing potion up in the dim light. She examined the small vails every curve and contour while peering at the liquid within, fascinated with whatever her completely bound eyes were capable of seeing.

"Hey," Alex called weakly, "I need that, hand it over, will you?" He stretched his arm toward her as she turned to face him at his words. She then knelt to study him instead of the potion. Quirking her head to the side in mild surprise as if she too had just noticed him moving and alive for the first time. The girl then eyed each of his wounds with grotesque curiosity and fascination.

She still held the potion tight.

Alex’s world lurched as the pain of his countless wounds briefly exploded through the numbness, causing him to cough up blood. "Hey. Excuse me. Hey. Hi. Hello.” He called, his voice growing louder with each attempt to grasp her attention. She didn’t respond.

“HEY YOU LITTLE SHI—" He stopped and forced himself to breathe deeply to calm down, coughing more blood in the process. No, anger won’t work here. I just need this idio- I just need this girl to give me the potion so I can not die to some weak spider babies. If she could see the potion, he reasoned, then she could see him despite the blindfold, most likely due to whatever class or skill she possessed.

He tried a different approach.

He pointed meaningfully at the potion, staring at where her eyes should be beneath the webbing and mustering as much intent as he could into his gaze before speaking.

"I need that." He spoke emphatically and outstretched his palm at the final word, splaying his fingers. Despite his attempts at reigning in his anger, his face still twisted into one filled with suppressed rage as he spoke the order.

The girl seemed to understand and dropped the potion into his hand, jerking up in surprise at his croaking but firm and demanding voice.

"S…Sorry," she muttered, speaking sheepishly in a strange disjointed accent. She seemed surprised at his pained expression and, if Alex wasn't mistaken, a little upset by it.

Not trusting his fingers, Alex held the vial pressed between his palms and downed the potion with haste, the girl completely forgotten. He felt his internal organs knitting back together, and his ravaged muscles reconnecting while other repairs took place, though not as fast as he'd like. At least my arms are working properly again, he thought as he used his healed arms to sit up, pink-red skin shining where the flesh had grown to fill in his numerous gouges. Alex glanced down briefly to see a spider's fang embedded in his flesh, a trickle of blood staining his pants. He pulled out the fang and looked around him to realize he had been lying in a pool of his own blood.

Shuddering, Alex rose to his feet He eyed his surroundings, wondering how he could've survived. The dim cave was filled with bodies- everywhere, among the rocks and around them. Many of the surrounding corpses were just bones and scarce meat, and strangely, a majority of them were empty cracked carapaces where the Spiderlings had cannibalized each other for some reason. Probably to gain levels, he thought. The babies must have eaten each other in some sort of twisted game of survival of the fittest. It was barbaric, but it would be effective. A free for all with the one spiderling from this cave gaining a multitude of levels from slaying the captured high-level humans and their kin. Alex bowed his head. So many human lives lost in such a way was a horrific tragedy, one that should be avoided at all costs, he thought solemnly. And as a result of such tragedies, each surviving spiderling would leave its cave at a higher level. Not to mention that if they operated like ants, they could perform this ad infinitum- sacrificing their members for the good of the colony; all to create high-level elites. He was starting to truly understand how much of a scourge this species was.

He would have certainly died if he didn't have the last healing potions or if a swarm of the Spiderlings returned. His high endurance stat had most likely made his skin and muscles too tough to be quickly and easily consumed. But judging by the damage wrought to his body before the potions healing, he would’ve died either way. Alex’s expression turned grim with the realization of how close he had come to a pretty gruesome death. The system reincarnating him again seemed downright impossible; the first message had said it was an 'inductee final recycle' because he died when the system first entered Earth. That implies everyone had just one, and most likely for those unlucky enough to die in the brief period of the system's initial introduction message. Not to mention the tutorial period was over, and any attempts at whatever twisted form of ‘safety’ the system employed had all but been removed. There would be no second chances. Or third chances, for that matter.

Deep down, he had known the moment he'd set foot in Pyra that the system would not give him a third chance. If he died in this world, or any other, that would be it. His fate would be sealed, and his journey would end, snuffed out like a candle.

Unless he somehow managed to mimic what Phoenix had achieved in his Dao vision; Rebirth.

Hah, the Dao’s pretty much endless. That would take forever. Alex had been raised in Buddhist teachings all his life, he was aware of the endless depths of Earth's understanding of the universe. It was not something that could be grasped with ease. And that was the mundane version. With all of the progress he had made in his Dao, within his mind's eye, whenever he connected with its truths, it felt like he was a spec trying to grasp a vast galaxy of information, information too complex to even understand. It was too much for him.

But it wasn’t without its merits. The little he’d managed to glean from the Dao had already allowed him to win battles.

If the spec of dust he'd managed to grasp had given him such power, then to grasp the entire star would give him control over complete aspects of reality itself, like Phoenix. But that seemed like an impossible feat, he still felt like an ant trying to control a mountain any time he tried, chipping away at it with small bites, only gaining microscopic shards of the mountain but making no real progress.

He would need more Dao visions to truly progress, he believed. The first one had given him access to Phoenix's perspective, and fleeting glimpses of Phoenix’s endless lifetimes of truths that had expanded Alex’s awareness. This quest offered an insight of its own for him to claim. [Reward: Feat generation, E grade equipment, Insight of the imperial] It had said. An imperial insight.

Alex would finish the quest no matter what.

His thoughts returning to the present, he attempted to completely remove the webbing that mummified his form before giving up. He’d cleared a good portion of it… but it was just everywhere. There was just too much of it. It was sticky as all hell, and each movement shifted it to another part of his body rather than completely removing it.

He still had a skill to test out in preparation for what was to come; his escape. He glanced at the girl digging through the surrounding Arachnae corpses. And her escape too, although protecting her is not going to be easy. He had no idea what a class milestone skill was, but the name suggested it was pivotal in some way, and most likely powerful. Despite the implication, he'd chosen something that would allow him to escape the Arachnae colony. The quest had said he was in the ‘heart’ of the colony, and had heavily implied that escaping its heart was something nobody had done before.

Before the system.

Let’s see what my ‘executioner’ can do. Alex thought, as his eyes focused on his surroundings.

Alex’s eyes took in the carnage around him. He found a triangular shard of exoskeleton, sharp and jagged, and gripped it firmly. Standing up, he assumed a balanced stance, his makeshift weapon pointed forward, settling into an advanced stance of kendo. Focusing on a heap of exoskeleton remains to his left, he prepared to engage. He took two short steps forward, left and then right.

If his hunch about this skill worked was correct, then distance wouldn’t matter as much as it should. He could feel it, a new instinct.

Alex concentrated on a space some distance away, about 15 steps to the side where the pile of broken exoskeleton lay, and activated his new skill.

As he thought the words Sovereign Executioner, the air in front of him visibly distorted, resembling a blade parting the very fabric of space.

And in its wake a figure emerged, notably taller than Alex, stepping into the cave. The figure wore robes of deep maroon, the fabric rich and heavy, flowing down and covering its form. Along sections of the robe, gilded patterns were intricately woven, in a way that made them hard to look at directly, even when the robes were unmoving. An insignia was embellished on the robe that shared the same quality as the patterns, in that it was hard to make out, constantly blurring out of focus whenever Alex tried to discern its contents. Even looking at the insignia too sharply seemed to cause a strange discomfort.

The figure's hands, extending from the flowing sleeves, were covered in gauntlets and held a large, thick ceremonial blade. Where a face might be beneath the hood, only shadows were visible. In the shadows, traces of a jawline could be seen, eerily similar in shape to Alex's. The lips, visible within the darkness, were set in a grim expression, akin to Alex's own frown.

The figure, the Sovereign Executioner, stood some meters to the side of Alex, mirroring his movements perfectly, their stances identical.

“Whoa”, Alex breathed in surprise. So that’s what I’d look like with a few extra months in the gym and an NBA contract… He studied the lifeless features buried within the depths of its hood. Nah, I like ‘me’ better, it doesn’t have my winning smile. He smirked, and the figure he summoned smirked too, mirroring his every twitch and breath. Alex studied the skills sensations. It felt like he had an extra body, like a disembodied limb that followed his every subconscious command.

So it won't disappear until I make an attack, that's useful, Alex noted. His improved sense of his internal workings gave him the minute feeling of his mana constantly draining while the summoned construct of mana stood still. The sixth sense gained by Inner Focus allowed him to instinctively feel that he could keep this up for an hour at best, and then he would be completely depleted of mana. Quick strikes then, he thought, attempting to decipher the patterns and insignia on the skills robes before wincing in pain at the ache it induced in his eyes. And what's with that, anyway? He blinked and rubbed his eyes, and noted the construct mirroring him, its gauntleted hands soundlessy reaching into the depths of its hood to rub whatever lay beneath the darkness. Isn't that supposed to be MY insignia? Why does it hurt to look at it? Feels like staring into the sun, but it's burning my insides as well as my eyes, not that he had ever stared into the sun, but Alex imagined that would feel just as bad as trying to decipher whatever meaning lay being the constructs insignia. The slow ache behind his eyes quickly faded as he focused on its other features, but the pain had reminded him of the pain he'd felt when he'd chosen his class, but far less agonizing. He felt his mana dip by a fraction and decided to end the skill; he had only used about a second's worth of mana, but as much as being unprepared would be tantamount to suicide, so would wasting the energy he used to fuel his skills.

Alex lifted the shard above his head, his arms extended but relaxed, in a state of violent calm. His skillscreation stood several places ahead of him, its movements identical to his own as it too raised its sword overhead.

Alex swung. And so did his construct in perfect sync. He brought the shard down in a swift diagonal strike- a ‘Men’ strike, aiming for an imaginary opponent's head. It was a strike he employed often when ambushed, where you would wait for the right moment- when an opponent's guard dropped or they lost focus, even for a second. It's that key chance where the ‘Men’ strike would hit the head, when they're not ready to defend.

Alex’s arms blurred as he struck the air, the juvenile shard cracking in his hands under the strain of his enhanced movements. The shard sliced through the air, landing with a thud in the cave wall. The constructs arm blurred similarly some meters ahead, and sliced the tip of a large shard of cracked chitin clean off- Alex would've preferred to target the entire heap, but he could not afford to make such a large sound in the cavernous cave system, what if it attracted the swarm?

The construct faded as if it had never been there, distorted reality settling to normalcy in an instant.

And the girl was stock still, watching Alex with pure shock. He could see her mouth slightly Ajar by the slit in the webbing covering her entire face. Why hasn’t she taken it off of her face yet? I know it’s tricky, but that’s got to be annoying.

Sighing, he gestured to his only companion.

"Hey, you good?" He stepped closer to her crouched form. She had been inspecting the corpse of an Arachnae about as large as she was before Alex’s display had distracted her. Now, she broke pieces off the large corpses carapace and studied the chitin as if in a trance. “Yes.” She spoke a single word, her voice croaked and unused.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get you outta here,” Alex said. “Do you know if your family’s safe? You’re parents? Were they taken too?” She looked at Alex with utter bewilderment at his words as if he’d said something strange. Something alien, even.

“Uh…” Alex continued. “You know… your mom? Dad? The people that take care of you, keep you safe?” More confusion. “The reason you're alive? They were there when you were born?” At Alex’s more detailed description, her bewilderment intensified. She rocked her head as if in a daze. Must be the venom, Alex realized, he had experienced a similar daze moments ago, but his stats had quickly evened it out. Exasperated Alex continued. “You share their appearance? Their DN- uh, I mean, you share their ‘essence’, or something like that. Their blood? Your family? They take care of you? Do you know where they are?” She brightened at his words and what looked like a genuine smile could be seen beneath her wrappings, but she did not respond. Alex’s concern for the girl began to become tingled with pity. He sighed. She clearly couldn’t remember a thing. "What's your name?" He asked, as another more poignant thought occurred to him.

"M-My name? I…" she seemed lost in thought as if grasping at memories just out of her reach. "I'm not sure…"

Poor kid. Come to think of it, how is she still alive? What's her level? He wondered.

"What's your leve—" Alex's words were interrupted by the sounds of muffled groaning from the corner of the cave. The sound was pained and muffled as if buried.

Human sounds.

Hearing the sound of a human trapped somewhere amongst the remnants of the deceased, Alex moved, rushing over to the corner of the room where a large Arachnae corpse seemed to be nestled unnoticed and hidden amongst the surrounding rocks.

It was about the size of a small bus, and its carapace strangely resembled the surrounding moss and cave rock. At first, Alex had mistaken it for a boulder.

Hold on… Alex thought, it just moved; it's alive.

The large creature lay resting above a mass of wrapped webbing in the shape of an adult human, complete with limbs, arms, and a completely wrapped head. As Alex approached, the creature seemed to rouse and rose to its feet as its eyes swivelled toward him.

That must be the victor of the battle royale, Alex determined.

He was devoid of any weapon, having lost his sword at some point during his capture. So he simply reached forward, grabbed the large arachnid's head, and pulled, while being careful to avoid its large fangs.

He tore its head clean off.

Huh, that really worked. I mean, I thought it would, judging by the level difference between me and a newborn. But I'll be damned if that isn't the grossest thing I've ever done. He shook the ichor off his hands and heaved the massive Arachnae corpse off the writhing and waking human wrapped in spider webbing.

[You have defeated level 4 Arachnae Spiderling]

That's a bit low of a level for all of the corpses here… I was expecting more. Alex rubbed his chin curiously as the mummified human wriggled before him.

"Come here, kid. Help him," Alex called back at the girl, nodding towards the guard. Still clutching a piece of arachnid carapace, she moved towards the struggling webbed figure.

“O… Oh… Oh k-kay?”

She worked methodically, her fingers deftly pulling at the strands of web. Alex watched the girl's precise movements, his own body rejuvenated from the potion. He had initially been suspicious of her survival, but the small glimpse of soft and obviously human flesh he'd caught under her wraps each time she spoke had alleviated most of his suspicions. So for now he continued to observe, wondering as to the identity of the person trapped beneath the wrapping. Each pull from her fingers freed the bound male in guards uniform further, her delicate digits working with unnatural precision, unravelling the sticky strands effortlessly. The guard’s eyes, clouded with confusion and fear, fluttered open.

"Who are you?" the guard croaked once his head was freed, his voice hoarse. The girl didn't respond, her focus solely on her task as she moved to free his bound hands and feet. Her hands never paused."Where am I?" The bound man's voice echoed and bounced off the walls, his face laced with confusion.

“Calm down, and try not to be too loud. It'll come back to you eventually.” Alex wanted to tell him where he was, but most people didn't take well to finding out they were in the heart of an undiscovered colony of giant man-eating monsters. He didn't want the guy to cause a scene or attract attention. None of them could afford it at the moment. Better to let him realize how messed up things are slowly. Alex decided. “We’re in the same situation as you. What’s the last thing you remember?” he asked cautiously.

The man rubbed his head, trying to piece together fragmented memories. "I remember the battle... Arachnae swarming… and I… lost myself in my skill, lost track of the others."

"I'm… John," the guard said, more to himself than anyone, as he rubbed his wrists where the webs had been. "Level 19… berserker." His voice held a hint of pride despite his evident exhaustion. His hand instinctively touched the insignia on his uniform. "Third strongest in my squad."

A grin spread across his features at the memory of his strength, before other memories returned, setting his face into a grim countenance. “Oh, I see. I was fighting the Black Mass.”

Alex nodded in confirmation. “That’s right. I’m Alex, nice to meet you. Although I wish it was under better circumstances”

“It’s nice? What’s nice about this?” John gestured innocently and offered him a quizzical look at his unfamiliar phrasing. John sat up, looking at the ground, feeling the damp sediment beneath them. He then sighed and raised his head. "Do you think anyone knows we're down here?" He looked to Alex with a hopeful yet forlorn gaze.

"Hard to say," Alex replied, squinting in the dim light. "Does your… squad have a way of tracking us ?"

The girl removed the final strands binding his feet and moved closer to Alex. She had left the rest of webbing on his limbs, torso and face unremoved, choosing to leave the uninhibiting bindings on his form. Probably as not to waste time, Alex guessed. All of them were still mostly covered in webbing.

She moved to stand beside Alex. He noted her apparent dependence on his presence and guessed she would even go as far as holding his hand for emotional support if he allowed it. It was most likely the need for physiological stability as well as a need for physical protection. It reminded him of behaviour often seen back on Earth in people rescued from harrowing environments. Poor thing, he thought.

Once freed, John the guard leaned forward and made to brush off the remnants of thick spider silk on his face and uniform, before giving up and settling with only freeing his face. He sat there, swaying slightly and clutching his head in pain. “This stuff is tougher than the stories said.” He muttered in disgust, pulling at another strand of webbing. “And as far as my squad finding us; I doubt it. Everyone thought the disappearances were an orc tribe using scare tactics. Not the Black Mass, not these creatures.” He spat out the word with disgust. “No one was prepared for that. Without a… Wayfinder, or Pathfinder, it’s not possible.”

The guard then tried to stand and stumbled, his legs wobbling. Seated once more, he checked his pockets, only to find the hilts at his waist drew broken daggers and missing sheathes. Relief finally washed over Guard John's face as he discovered a single weapon still attached to his belt. He pulled out a pristine and unused long sword, Inspecting it for damage. "Still sharp," he muttered.

“Can I use that?” Alex asked, eyeing the blade. “It's better for all of us. I’m good with a blade, and I'm level 36.”

“Sorry, can’t give up my main weapon,” John replied, a bit too eagerly. Then, looking at Alex with an apologetic expression, John straightened up. His chest puffed out slightly, his youthful face set in a determined, albeit naive, expression. “But don’t worry. I’ll keep us all safe, just stay behind me.”

Alex exchanged a glance with the girl, who giggled softly, a dainty wheezing sound beneath her wrappings. As they talked further, the girl moved to rummage through the corpses, both Arachnae and human, with an unsettling curiosity. She returned to Alex, and approached him, her arms extended, presenting several chipped claymores and a fresh and undamaged one.

“Where’d you find these?” Alex asked, taking a chipped sword and storing the rest away in his Inventory with a touch of his finger on each blade, four in total. The girl merely shrugged, her expression hidden behind the webbing. Alex met her obscured gaze, “Well thanks again, kid.”

She beamed, a smile clear beneath her coverings.

The girl’s curiosity seemed boundless. As they spoke she moved from corpse to corpse with ease, her actions meticulous and silent. She soon approached Alex again, this time with a handful of small marbles glowing faintly with a swirling purple light in his Outer Sense-enhanced vision.

Alex turned one of the marbles in his hand, its light still pulsing weakly. “What are these?” He ask, intrigued.

“P-power,” she replied, rolling the words on her tongue as if tasting them for the first time.

John, overhearing the conversation, explained the nature of magical cores. "It’s a core, I think. The memory is hazy, but I’m pretty sure of it.”

“Magical creatures develop them at some point, although human mages and some other living races have their hearts become mana organs instead.” He paused in consideration, and stared at his hands as if mesmerized, “Although… I guess we’re all magical creatures now, in a sense.”

His expression dimmed as he raised his head “Core's brightness indicates their power. These, though,” he gestured to the dull cores in the girl's hand, "see that? They have no glow, so they’re pretty much useless.”

Alex turned to look at the cores in the girl's palm, each soft and swirling purple light made visible by his passive skill. “So they have no power? Are you sure?”

John shrugged. “I mean, they don't amount to much. Dozens would be needed to even gain any simple effect, and only master blacksmiths found in the greatest cities can combine multiple magical cores, and they only combine the greatest of cores for the highest prices.” He waved a hand dismissively and groaned, no doubt distracted by venom-induced nausea. “So no. They have no power, no more than a Child's toy. They're worthless.”

Alex eyed the glowing cores. He wasn't convinced.

John closed his eyes and rubbed his temples as he rose to his feet as if trying to summon more memories. His eyes brightened as something seemed to return to him. “But higher beasts, the evolved Arachnae cores, those are valuable."

John stood and sighed heavily. "Great, no way to call for help." he stopped moving and stood still, breathing heavily.

“Eya save us.” He muttered under his breath. He was staring into space as if reading an invisible panel. “Have you seen this quest? Oh gods.”

Alex nodded. “Yeah. I know. I don’t know much about caves, but I figure as long as we keep heading up or find a running stream we should be able to make it out of here. We should get moving.”

At his words, John hesitated before nodding despite his fear, and all three of them made to move to the spaces exit, before a sight caused them to slow to a stop.

Four Arachnae had appeared at the cave entrance moving slowly on a multitude of legs. Arachnae slowed and stopped in apparent jerky shock as they noticed Alex, John, and the girl some distance ahead of their path.

These Arachnae are large, about twice as tall as Alex, but they were different. Vastly different. While they all had 8 wickedly sharp limbs, each as long as he was, none of them had the spider's head and fangs he’d come to expect.

Instead, above the eight muscular segmented legs the base of their bodies rose to a mound where a muscular segmented human-looking torsos sprouted, each as large as Alex was tall, and with arms as thick and long as he was. But their similarities to humans ended at their basic shape, their skin was smooth chitin with the hard jagged contours of a spider's exoskeleton, and their faces were a featureless mask, as if undeveloped. On their torsos where a collection of eyes, spread in the same way all arachnid's eyes were. Their long fingers were unnaturally sharp as daggers, all four, and each digit dripped with a strange liquid that flared in Alex’s Outer Vision.

They weren't fingers he realised. They were fangs.

The three humans stood there in shock, frozen, as a much larger Arachnae approached from behind the four entrants, looming behind its brethren with an air of scrutiny. Its face was slightly more defined, with some semblance of a nose protruding from the smoothness and even had the beginnings of a mouth. Yet its featureless segmented body was still smooth with unnatural contours of chitin plates, like a crash dummy from Earth, but monstrously large and insectile.

It stood with authority behind its four lesser kin and observed the surrounding corpses, the girl, John, and then Alex.

Then it spoke.

“Kill them.”

Soul of Blades - Chapter 27: Four Choices II

Alex felt groggy as his senses returned to him. His eyes struggled open and was met with the blurred sight of a dim cave. And notifications. They filled his vision, distracting him from his surroundings.  He brushed away the notifications that filled his vision, some instinct buried deep within his groggy state urging him to be prepared for danger. He tried to rise and stumbled, still feeling groggy, and… constricted? Why do I feel constricted?, he wondered. It felt as though he was wrapped in loose linen, soft yet inhibiting.

Laying on the ground and giving up on his battle with gravity, he attempted to assess his surroundings.

A quick chance around revealed that he was in a cave of some sort, about the size of a small house. Dull green light from luminous moss painted the surrounding  cave walls with wavering shadows that played across his vision. He blinked, trying to clear the grogginess.

He was suffering from what felt like a hangover of biblical proportions. His thoughts were still hazy, and his memories were a blur as his consciousness surfaced more clearly by the second.

With a mental nudge for answers, Alex summoned his notifications once more in the hopes it would shed some light on his amnesia. The system intuitively responded to his will.

[Dynamic Quest - ‘The Hidden Queen’s Lair’: You have found yourself in the heart of an Arachnae designation ‘The Hidden Queen’s’ colony. You are one of the few to have miraculously survived  the Arachnae colony’s larval consumption of foreign species. An opportunity to accomplish something never before achieved on this region presents itself to you - Chart a path through the colony cave system and accomplish what none have done before: Escape the heart of Arachnae designation ‘The Hidden Queen’s’ colony alive. reach any non-Arachnae settlement to complete quest]

[As accomplishing extremely rare and difficult unrecorded feats on inducted worlds will provide the system with new and valued data, rewards for this quest have been increased. Grow strong and serve your masters well.]

[Reward: Feat generation, E grade equipment, Insight of the imperial]

Oh, that's right, he thought, I was fighting the Arachnae. Memories returned to him in a flood, as if doused. His battle, the giant Spiderling, their many legs, the fight. It all returned to him.

And they were weak as hell, he concluded. So how did I lose? He let out a muffled groan as a sharp pain throbbed in his chest through the numbness, still confused as to how such creatures had overwhelmed him. How did I end up in this cave?

The memory of stings came back to him – sharp, sudden – especially the little one he had yanked out from his neck.

Oh snap. All those smaller spiders... they were injecting venom, the pieces were falling into place and causing the image of his capture to become clearer. It explained why the guards and adventurers were losing despite being stronger than the numerous ‘Spiderling’.

Whatever toxin the Arachnae have must be potent, potent enough that it could affect him even with his high endurance stat. He now understood the guards' faltering steps, how they seemed to stumble and fall in the battle in seconds, and their unsteady hands dropping weapons.

Most of them had been killed as soon as they fell. Except For him, apparently.

The loss of the guards and citizens was all due to whatever venom the hostile species had. Probably a paralytic, Alex realized, one bite was all it took to immobilize a person of a much lower level, and it had taken a multitude of bites before he fell.

Anger bubbled beneath the surface of his thoughts. How did they not have countermeasures against the venom? From Kiers words the wars with the Arachnae had been raging across the world. But mainly in other lands, they’d said.

Maybe they Perceived the Arachnae as a foreign threat, something the only the other nations had to deal with and thus made no moves to prepare. That would explain the towns borders being so swiftly overrun. A lack of supply, perhaps. Why order stores of antivenom to fight when your country hasn't seen the enemy over a hundred years? It made sense, economically.

The lands waging the wars and facing the more immediate threat of the Arachnae had to have stores of antivenom Stockpiled. Maybe even immunity spells. But then Kier and Lyra had said all freely controlled magic was gone, that means spells too, he realized, his eyes widening. Any magical defence they had against the Arachnae is gone, and unless they have the right skills, class, or a stockpiles of antivenom, they're screwed. That could explain how what should have been an easy battle turned into such a disaster.

He turned his attention back to the rest of his notifications.

[You have defeated level 12 Arachnae Spiderling x7]

[You have defeated level 23 Arachnae Spiderling x6]

[You have defeated level 17 Arachnae Spiderling x14]

[You have defeated level 7 Arachnae Spiderling x9]

[You have defeated level 4 Arachnae Spiderling x 24]

[You have defeated…]

[You have defeated…]

[Level difference penalty applied]

[Level 32 > 36]

[Strength +16, Dexterity+16, intelligence+24, unassigned stats +16]

[Class milestone reached. Class milestone skill available. Please make selection]

Milestone… He thought, that implies a pivot of some kind. Will this affect my future options, or will all options be available for me to select at the next milestone? He made a mental note to ask any native of this world for an answer the first chance he’d get. But more importantly, the quest had said that he was in the ‘heart’ of the colony, which suggested that he was at the greatest possible distance to any exit he might find. And I’m the quest also heavily implied that nobody had ever managed to escape this colony, dubbing it the colony of ‘The Hidden Queen’. Alex reviewed the quest once more, ‘accomplish what none have done before’ it said. so nobody had ever managed to escape this place, and as a result a queen’s been hidden under the land for only god knows how long, He realised. He could be facing an endless horde of beasts and creatures. His milestone skill choice would be critical to his escape, he couldn’t afford to wait; he would choose whichever option ensured his success now.

[Please make selection]

He willed his acceptance, and another notification appeared.

[System Message: Choose one of 4 Skills]

[F-grade Skill 1: Limitless Edge (Passive): To the sovereign, the entire world is a sword. Any item with an edge or point in the users grasp will become as sharp as blades, with sharpness and hardiness dependant on mastery. Peak mastery and understanding allows for precision strikes and deep wounds, capable of severing vital points or even bones.]

[F-grade Skill 2: Sovereign Poise (Passive): The sovereign's stature reflects the blade, unyielding. Grants permanent enhanced agility and movement, propensity to lose footing drastically decreased. Enhanced footing on all surfaces. Peak Mastery and understanding allows for perfect footing on a wider variety of surfaces.]

[F-grade Skill 3: Systemic Eye (Active): Peer beneath the surface of the system to glean glimpses of things unseen.]

[F-grade Skill 4: Sovereign Executioner (Active): The sovereigns blade extends to fealty, endless in its numbers. For a mana cost, summon a phantom, a sovereign executioner to mimic a single slash. The executioner will perfectly mimic your strike and simultaneously strike an enemy from an angle of your  intent.]

Wow… that’s better than I was expecting. Nice one, Pyra. Maybe this world wasn’t so bad after all. Alex was genuinely impressed. And conflicted.

Alex lay still, the weight of his decision pressing on him as he considered the four F-grade skills before him. His mind painted vivid scenarios with each potential choice. The immediate threat of losing his life and surviving the predicament took priority over the long-term implications of his skill choice on his class growth and future skill choices. He already had two movement skills: Phoenix Leap, which gave him three-dimensional movement, and Boundless Dodge. Although primarily a defensive evasion skill, Boundless Dodge was almost a movement skill of its own, sort of.

First was Limitless Edge, its allure in turning any object into a lethal weapon. He envisioned himself, surrounded by Arachnae, grasping a broken stalactite. In his grip, it transformed, edges sharpening to a deadly point, slicing through the exoskeleton of a nearby spider with ease. This skill's versatility, transforming mundane objects into deadly weapons, could be a lifesaver in the unpredictable environment of the Arachnae colony, where his primary weapon might be lost or damaged. Precision strikes targeted their vulnerable joints, immobilizing them, their venomous fangs clattering harmlessly to the ground. With the enhanced sharpness, Alex could penetrate the tough exoskeletons of the larger spiders, making his attacks lethal and ensuring survival against the immediate threat. The adaptability of using various objects as weapons would give him a strategic edge in the confined cave environment.

Next, his thoughts shifted to Sovereign Poise. He saw himself, agile and swift, moving through the Arachnae swarm. His feet found solid ground on the slickest surfaces, his body moving with an assuredness that belied the danger around him. However, with Phoenix Leap already giving him significant movement capabilities, Alex weighed the necessity of Sovereign Poise's enhancements. Its potential for increased combat efficiency and fluid swordplay was appealing, yet he pondered if the skill overlapped too much with his existing abilities. The poise skill was intriguing; at high mastery, he pictured himself standing on water or fighting along a vertical wall as if it were solid ground. But he already had Phoenix Leap. What was the use in wall-running or wall-walking when he could already move in three dimensions? It was still a skill he wished he could have, simply because it was cool, but it wouldn’t help him here.

The third option, Systemic Eye, unfurled a world unseen. He guessed Systemic Eye was another glitched skill, judging by the garbled, glitched text and its subversive nature. It sounded like an appraisal skill, and he desperately wanted it. He could picture it clearly; Hidden weaknesses of the Arachnae shone before him. This skill's potential to reveal vital information about the Arachnae and the environment was captivating. By understanding the stats, attack patterns, or weaknesses of the spiders, Alex could better evade their bites and avoid being paralyzed by venom. But in his current predicament, trapped in the heart of the swarm, he questioned the immediate utility of this tactical skill. Could it provide the offensive power he needed right now? He couldnt be certain. It wouldn’t help him escape or survive the colony or another swarm. Though he craved the skill, he had to let it go out of necessity; he prayed that with his choice, the skill wasn’t lost to him forever.

Lastly, Sovereign Executioner beckoned with its promise of multiplied force. In his mind’s eye, Alex saw a phantom emerging, mirroring his movements perfectly with a singular strike. The ability to attack from different angles, reaching enemies in difficult-to-reach positions, seemed like a crucial advantage in the cramped cave. This skill, capable of dealing with multiple threats at once, could likely be the key to his survival and escape.

His existing skills melded with these possibilities. Phoenix Leap and Boundless Dodge provided unmatched mobility, Mana Blade a relentless edge, and Mana Burn a surge of raw power. Yet, the swarm of Arachnae, vast and venomous, demanded more.  Alex's choice crystallized as he imagined the Sovereign Executioner in action. The skill's immediate benefit in the dire situation he found himself in outweighed the potential long-term implications for his class growth.

Choosing Sovereign Executioner felt like a necessary gamble. The phantom, projection and silent ally, would bolster his offensive capabilities. With this new skill, the Arachnae, no matter their size or the deadliness of their venom, would face an opponent they could not envenom.

The skill's future potential tantalized him. While currently, it only provided a single phantom, Alex pondered the possibilities of mastery. Could they potentially last longer than one strike, acting as an extended limb, or even potentially work from a distanced, as a long-range strike, perfectly mirroring his movements? The possibilities unfolded in his mind like a map, each path brimming with potential.

Ultimately, he chose Sovereign Executioner, his thoughts remaining fixed on the myriad of ways it would help him battle a venomous swarm of Arachnae while complementing his other skills.

His decision made, Alex mentally nudged the system, affirming his choice. Sovereign Executioner was now his to command.

[Grade F Class Skill: Sovereign Executioner (active) selected!]

His decision made, he attempted to shift and finally noticed all of the webbing. Thick silken spiders web engulfed his body. It wrapped around him, binding his limbs and torso tight like a mummy in a spider's craft. He was covered in the stuff.

And he was also covered in wounds. Endless injuries from the battle outside the cities borders after he crashed to the earth.

Painful awareness of his body's unnoticed injuries came into focus, and his gut sank at each new sight. Horrified, he saw chunks of his flesh gone, leaving raw, open wounds. He saw fist-sized holes in his calf, legs, arms, stomach, and chest. In his chest, a particularly large wound exposed his cracked ribs and damaged lung. A damaged half-eaten lung.

The spiders paralytic venom still ran through his veins and dulled his senses, muting the pain even now as he assessed his gruesome wounds. He had assumed any injuries from the battle he’d gained were light, but he had clearly been wrong.

He assessed the damage further.

He had heard of this; in wars back on Earth, sometimes soldiers didn't notice they were shot or had limbs blown clean off when they were given enough morphine and at times opium, although morphine was said to be stronger.

Alex was experiencing something similar in real time due to the spiders venom.

Now that he could see the wounds, the pain that he had been ignoring this whole time held vivid clarity. The pain was persistent, but numb. Muted. A mild irritant instead of excrutation. A dull echo of something sharper, as if muffled by layers of cloth.

It was with that realisation that Alex began to worry.

How the hell am I still alive?, he wondered, before immediately realizing that his high endurance was keeping him from death's door, just barely hanging on. The world dimmed and brightened and swayed briefly and his breathing became mere whispers, faint and unnoticed as the world dimmed further. Colours became muted as darkness crept into the corners of his vision and Light faded.

This felt familiar.

Crap, crap. I'm dying, he realized, in further panic as in a rush he mentally summoned his inventoryand made to grab the last healing potion. The Vail materialized above his palm. As he grasped for it, his enhanced strength tore through the webbing on his fingers.The potion landed in his open palm and promptly fell through his fingers rolling among the rocks a few paces away with its contents shining reflectively in the dim light. The venom was still affecting his fine motor control.

Alex rolled to his side and pushed all his remaining free stats into boosting his endurance.

[Strength: 164 (113)

Dexterity: 207 (143)

Endurance: 61 (42)

Intelligence: 247 (170)

Wisdom: 41 (28)

Unassigned stat points: 0]

Between the battle at the town's borders and now, his stats had skyrocketed to increase by 235, with almost half of that coming courtesy of his feats. And he had just dumped 16 more into his endurance, the one stat that was likely keeping him alive. The increase would boost his resilience, but that would only delay the inevitable and the effort might just buy him a few more seconds.

But seconds would be enough if he could just reach the potion.

Using all his strength and will he moved towards the vail and began crawling, locking his eyes with tunneled vision on the potion a short distance away.

Alex reached the potion with a sigh of relief, his fingers moments away from grasping the small vial of red liquid.

And that's when he noticed the girl.

She stood directly in front of him, with hair so dark and thick it seemed to shine reflectively—almost metallic, the light of the moss bounced off her dark locks with each of her movements. She was wrapped in the same prey webbing as he was, except hers was covered in ichor and blood. Did she use a potion of her own to heal herself? Does she have high endurance like me? Or higher? Unlikely, she must've woken up earlier" Alex assessed her instantly. The webbing around her covered her arms, legs, and torso completely. It even covered her face completely, with only a small slit where her mouth was; probably to allow her to breathe.

Alex would've wondered how she could even see anything at all with her eyes wrapped like that, if she hadn't just knelt down and picked up his potion, taking it out of reach of his grasping hands.

Time-Smith - interlude: Bulwark vs Living Armour - Part 2

Markus had seen an adventurer fight before. Just once. The adventurer wasn’t an elite or a high rank, but she was still an experienced delver, and had been ambushed by a gang from the slums on her trip back from the forest. The gang must have mistaken her for a poor hunter on the way back from a good haul, and one of them had clearly made a mistake.

She hadn’t moved from her spot as she dealt with the entire group, alone. She had deflected blows and magic from every angle, Launching them into the sky with the flat of her blade, and not taking a single scratch. She had been vastly outnumbered, and she had wiped the floor with all of them. Against them, she could not be stopped, she was unbeatable.

And each suit of armour around him was her match. They were her equals in every aspect. The problem wasn't their strength, or their speed, or even their reach.

It was their skill.

Markus lunged at them, his sword slashing through the air with a swift, heavy, and powerful strike. One suit sidestepped, narrowly evading the attack, while another swiftly parried the blow, sending vibrations through his arm. The impact reverberated through his bones, a jolt of resistance pushing up against his blade.

They moved with perfect coordination, making them almost appear as one cohesive entity. Each step he took, an armour suit struck, and as he tried to dodge their relentless assaults, another suit would pounce. They fought in unison, blocking and striking, defending one another flawlessly. And when Markus attacked, they would retaliate. Their strikes came from every direction, striking his leg, his arm, from behind, then above. For a brief moment, his world was a whirlwind of blades.

But he couldn’t stop, he had to press forward, he had to protect his party. So Markus lunged at all of his foes despite the blows.

He lunged forward, his sword aimed at the chest of the dual wielding suit, he'd learned from Evans display that its chest cavity was where its life source was. The dual wielding suit was the most dangerous one, and Markus sought to slay it first and turn the tide of battle. But it effortlessly deflected his attack with its own blade, seamlessly transitioning into a counterstrike with the other.

It was swiftly joined by the others in its attack, and armoured skin clashed with metal limbs, a flurry of blades so fast Markus could barely think. Instead, he moved on instinct; his mind was a blur.

Jump. Parry. Dodge. Strike. Pain. Focus. Retaliate. More pain. Increase density. Attack.

His sword clashed with the dual-wielding suit of armour, their blades meeting in a shower of sparks. The dimly lit dungeon echoed with the reverberation of steel. The suit of armour leaned forwards as particularly strong gust of wind flew past them. They struggled with their blades locked, and the flames of its eyes grew dangerously close to Markus's face.

He heard the sound of metal footsteps to his rear, saw the shadows of the light dimming, and his instincts screamed that an attack was coming from the behind.

Markus swiftly adjusted the density of his own body, becoming lighter, and increasing his agility and responsiveness. It was risky, with a lighter density they could slice through him like butter, but if he timed it just right, he could be as swift as the wind.

He leaped, moving upwards in a gale of swept dust, dodging a sweeping strike aimed at his legs. The suit's blades sliced through the air where he once stood, their swing leaving a trail of reflected firelight, highlighting a vicious arc. He was surprised at how high his jump had taken him. Weighing less than a feather, he vaulted upwards above the heads of the armour. They leapt at him to follow, a trail of death from three directions. Time slowed to a crawl as the enemy rose into the air, their intent etched into Markus’s observing eyes.

He noticed with grim fascination that their swords were aimed at his heart, head, and neck, all killing blows. The skill they exhibited was shocking. Who made these things?

Blue and white firelight reflected off the glinting blades as they sped towards his eyes and heart, and he increased his density in an instant in response, his mana solidifying within his body to become a dense immovable boulder causing him to plummet towards the ground. His heavy fall evaded all the swinging death blows as he fell, a rush of wind above his head and lost hair the only sure sign of how close he’d just come to being impaled. He was a comet crashing into the earth, an interloper that shook the dungeon's floors with his landing.

And soon, he heard a resounding metallic crash sound as a suit of armour landed on the rocky stone ground beside him.

Then another. Then another once more.

He was surrounded again.

Small dents and scrapes marked their forms from his lucky blows, but he had done no real damage. He grimly suspected they had allowed some of his blows to land, judging his blade to be innefectual. And it was true. His sword just wasn't enough, if he swung any harder he knew it would break. He needed something more if he was going to survive this long enough for Evan and Lucia to wake up.

He needed his weapon to be denser, to extend his skill beyond his body, like Evan had done.

Markus surged shifting mana into his palm, willing it to extend to his sword. He needed his sword to be able to damage them in order to win this. And he needed his skill to become more than it was ever meant to be, to extend beyond his body and into his weapon, but it resisted.

And the armour attacked, scoring him with blows from all directions.

[Density Control] lessened the impact of their blows, turning death blows into glancing ones, but he still felt the shockwaves of pain with every strike he received, it was a fleeting advantage. Desperation fuelled his every move. A wild swing, a crazed punch, a chip in their armour—small victories in a battle against impossible odds. But their defences were impenetrable, their unity unbreakable.

His application of [Density Control] made his muscles bones and skin far harder than imaginable- able to turn blows that should split him in twain into nought but bloody scratches.

But Markus felt trapped, unable to make a move without inviting a flurry of deadly strikes. Every move they made was calculated, precise, and lethal. And any lapse of judged would spell his end. He realised that without [Density Control], he would have died ten times over in the first exchange. Without [Density Control], he would have been overwhelmed and defeated within moments, each clash would have been his last.

***

Evan's consciousness drifted among Lucia's cells, desperate to save her from the brink of death. He hoped that Lucia would appreciate the new and improved version of herself, rather than complain about her lack of input in the matter. Evan was determined to make Lucia as capable of surviving this as possible, even if it meant sacrificing a few of her natural quirks and flaws. He doubted she would be mad at him for not consulting her about the whole "altering her DNA" thing - after all, she did always complain about her thighs. Maybe she would even thank him?

Despite that slight concern, he would save her no matter what. That single conviction burned in Evans mind like a bonfire, lighting his will. Evan's resolve solidified, like a sculptor creating a work of art, or in this case, a complex patchwork of cellular changes.

As he worked, the realization of the potential consequences to his lack of planning hit him like a blow to the gut. In a dungeon as dangerous as this one, 'winging it' was not an effective survival strategy.

His mind was filled with the possibilities he had overlooked. He possessed the ability to manipulate time, experiencing the past through his skills. It would have been a negligible risk, a temporary death at most, but it would have allowed him to discover the capabilities of the monsters lurking within the dungeon's depths. He could have gained valuable knowledge, honed his own capabilities, and prepared for the perilous journey ahead. He considered the risks he had taken and chastised himself for his reckless actions, for not using his Postcognition ability to foresee the dangers that awaited them in this unforgiving dungeon. "So what if I died?" he mused. "A temporary death is nothing compared to losing someone forever."

With that thought ringing in his mind, he made a decision for his plan in the future. He would never make the same mistake again.

Evan refocused on the task at hand. Every fibre of his being trusting in his all-encompassing skill to rewrite Lucia's cells. He felt like a cosmic tailor altering a celestial suit. He would have to face the consequences of altering her body without her knowledge or consent, but it was worth saving her life. R'hazul would be proud, what he was doing was probably from his tutor's playbook. 'R'hazul's Healing Ethics 101: What to Do - Lesson one: Anything you want.'

Evan pressed on as he fought against time to stabilize her and continued making permanent changes to her form. At this point, it was fair to say she was no longer human. Well, at least she won't need a makeover anytime soon.

Time-Smith - Interlude: Bulwark vs Living Armour - Part 1

Markus was unaware of the struggle Evan faced, as he stood guard in the dimly lit dungeon. His breath caught in his throat as his friend sought to save Lucia's life. He observed Evan and Lucia, so still they could be mistaken for statues, save for them breathing in unison. Which was odd now that he noticed it. It was as if Evan existed in perfect harmony with her every breath, his own movements mirroring hers with unnerving precision. Markus began to wonder what the limits of that skill was. And what the limits of all of their skills were.

Markus preferred to live life with a carefree attitude, not allowing excessive worry or unnecessary attention to consume him. To him, most things seemed unimportant, except for the individuals who made a positive impact on the world. Unfortunately, in the city he resided in, those people were scarce, a fact that he could count on his fingers. His aloof and carefree nature had always provided him with a sense of peace and freedom that he cherished.

However, when engaged in battle, Markus had discovered his demeanor transformed. His mind became cool and calculating, unaffected by the chaos that often accompanied combat. Though he had never been in a fight himself, until now, he had witnessed plenty. Through the battle he had just experienced, he had discovered that he was immune to the madness and fear that engulfed others when they fought. Instead, he felt as though a sense of direction and purpose guided him.

Paradoxically, it was within combat that Markus found a unique calming freedom. It was as if all his emotions—happiness, pain, love, and hatred—blended into an intoxicating concoction, heightening his senses like never before. In the heat of battle, he could forget his fears, anxieties, pain, sorrow, tears, and even his fury. Instead, he experienced an immense calm, a newfound freedom that allowed him to fully express himself, utilizing his body and skills in ways he had never imagined.

The arena of combat merged all aspects of his being, providing an escape from the burdens of daily life. It was a space where Markus could channel his emotions, transforming them into a potent force that fueled his every move. This revelation brought him a profound sense of liberation, as he embraced the serene yet exhilarating nature of combat. Was it strange that he’d found it kind of fun? He winced as he thought of Lucias fallen form, suppressing his guilt at even thinking such a thing.

A light breeze swept through the corridor, providing a brief respite to Markus's fatigued body. The cool air caressed his skin.

The breeze then turned into a gust of wind, causing dust to dance and swirl in its wake, while droplets of blood sprayed and scattered, borne away on its capricious currents.

Markus felt a surge of relief wash over him as the current of wind surrounded him. The coolness kissed his sweat-drenched skin, offering a momentary respite from the toll of relentless battle. The gentle gusts whispered against his wounds, soothing the myriad of cuts that marred his arms and shoulders. The pain eased, if only slightly, rejuvenating his weary body. Inspired by the refreshing wind, Markus instinctively rose to his tiptoes, as if leaning into the invisible current.

He focused inwards as he leaned and felt the tightly packed core of mana in his abdomen. and willed it to begin to loosen. With a flex of his will, the core of mana that made up his [Density Control] began to loosen and expand. It was infinitely packed, and denser than ever before, a weight he couldn't fully comprehend, drawing all the mana in his body towards it. The core began to unfurl, spreading like a wispy cloud around his stomach.

Markus felt himself becoming weightless, a sense of lightness overcoming him , suspended in the winds like a feather. He embraced the freedom that soared through his being, held steady by the tips of his feet, his body gently buffeted by the windy gusts. It was a sensation that resonated deep within his soul, as if he had finally found the purpose he was destined for.

As Markus began to float amidst the currents of air, his heart swelled with gratitude for the discovery of this new application of his skill. The pain and weariness that had plagued him moments ago seemed distant, eclipsed by the exhilaration of freedom. Although blood and marks of battle still surrounded him, he felt a profound sense of liberation, as if he were meant to soar through the skies.

And as he soared, suspended by the winds, his thoughts drifted to the previous fight.

The battle had been nothing short of gruelling, with the armoured foe displaying a level of skill and experience that hinted at decades of slaying adventurers. He felt surge of regret, and a tinge of pride mixed with disbelief as he reflected on their victory.

How was that the first monster? Not a slime, or some small creature, but that? at this early entrance of the dungeon the mana should be paper thin. It must be at least a hundred layers deep. Minimum. How was anyone expected to clear this dungeon? What was the gods' actual problem?

He made only his foot extremely dense and kicked a rock in annoyance, another trick he’d learned during the fight. The rock exploded in a cloud of dust, shards racing at speed into the darkness.

He smiled at his unexpected growth with the skill. Lightness and density, who knew they were related? It had been so hard to even use it the day before. Back then, he’d felt caged by it, and he found that fact hilarious.

Now, after the fight, he wouldn’t give up this skill for any other in the world. It was freeing.

The winds picked up, buffeting him with cool, calming air, And the peace it brought him inspired a torrent of thoughts and emotions, all tied to the events that had just unfolded. His mind replayed the clash of steel, the whirlwind of movements, and the raw adrenaline that had fueled his every action. The intensity of combat had pushed him to his limits, both physically and mentally. And yet, he had emerged scathed, and wounded, but victorious.

A deep sense of shock had washed over him, and it hadn’t left. The images of Evan's incredible feats played on an endless loop in his mind, leaving him dazed and awestruck.

Watching Evan effortlessly teleport around the battlefield, his movements fluid and unpredictable, was nothing short of dizzying.

The shockwaves generated by Evan's fists had added another layer of shock. The sheer force and impact he could generate with a mere mundane punch defied all logic and reason. He had been stunned, almost stopping in his tracks as they fought.

Markus couldn't fathom the limits of such a skill, it had boundless potential. It was as if Evan had unlocked a fourth skill, a power that surpassed conventional understanding.

For a skill like that, people would wage wars.

He questioned his own abilities in comparison, thinking of the limits to his own skill, [Density Control]. Could he transcend his current limitations and achieve a level of freedom akin to what Evan displayed?

The winds picked up, and his feet momentarily left the ground. He floated briefly in the air, suspended by only his skill and Adras’s Breath, and received an answer to his question.

In that suspended moment, Markus's thoughts swirled as he thought deep within himself. He had always lived for freedom, cherishing the liberty to navigate life on his own terms. But witnessing Evan's extraordinary abilities forced him to question the boundaries he had set for himself. Could he push past his own perceived limitations and unlock a new realm of power and liberation?

The weightlessness he felt, both physically and mentally, mirrored his yearning for true freedom. It was more than just the absence of gravity; it represented the unrestricted potential that lay dormant within him. Markus pondered if he had only scratched the surface of his own capabilities and if there were uncharted territories waiting to be explored.

The battle had shown him glimpses of what was possible, and he was determined to seize the freedom he craved, to transcend his limitations and grow into the warrior he knew he could become.

He would forge his own path, guided by the pursuit of freedom, untethered by the constraints of the known.

Markus was determined to break free and discover the true extent of his magic.

He hung in the air, swaying with the wind, and exhaled, almost tempted to close his eyes and surrender to the tranquillity that surrounded him, despite the danger. It was then that he caught a faint scent carried by the breeze – a mix of dampness and death.

Buffeted by the wind, and weighing less feather, he ceased all thoughts and just listened to the rustling of cool air around him. He swore he could almost hear an imperceptible cry resonating within the rustling winds, as if someone or something was pleading for his help. A wave of despair seemed to flow through the dungeon, and snapped him out of his reverie, bringing back to the bleak reality he found himself facing. But what was that feeling? That sound? He stood there, wondering if what he’d heard was real. Markus feared that the dungeon was playing tricks on his mind.

Amidst the silence, a distant, clear sound pierced the air—a rhythmic clang of armour echoing from the depths beyond the reach of the flickering torchlight.

A Crash.

Markus swiftly pivoted at the sound, his feet once again finding their solid footing, and his focus now directed towards the foreboding darkness of the dungeon. Turning his attention to the abyss that lay before him, Markus squinted, trying to pierce the veil of inky blackness.

A Clang of metal.

His grip on the blade he held tightened, each finger curling around the hilt with unwavering determination.

A Clunk of iron soon followed.

Markus raised his blade in front of him. its weight provided a reassuring anchor.

A Clatter then pounded through the corridor.

Sweat beaded his brow as he strained to see the approaching enemy. A flicker of metal glowed white in the distance-Was that one taller than the last?

One sound, then another, then another again. The ominous noises pierced the stillness, setting Markus on edge. The sounds of it’s approach felt like the ticking of a clock. He felt like the dungeon was mocking him, signalling his doom. He paused to consider that, and morbidly decided that a doomsday clock was both ridiculous and actually kind of funny.

Wasn’t telling someone the time of their doom the best way for them to avoid it?

Markus's gaze fixated on a distant spot ahead. All he could see was inky black depths and faint pin-pricks of white light, what was making the sounds? And how close was it?

Through the shifting shadows, he caught a glimpse of movement—a subtle shift in the density of darkness. Through the faint white of torchlights, he saw the faint outlines of three suits of living armour emerging from the shadows.

Markus's heart quickened.

His breath caught in his throat as the suits of armour began to march in unison, their steps sharp, measured, and perfectly aligned.

Clang. Clang. Clang.

Each movement was practiced and perfect, devoid of any humanity. The eerie glow of their blue-flamed eyes, like beacons of cold fire, left trails of after-images in the distant darkness, and a blend of multicoloured flames gleaming off their metal swords.

Each suit bore its own weapon. The suit in the center of the march was wielding two swords; one in each hand's grip, and the other two brandished a single, elongated blade.

Markus's heart thudded in his chest, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily upon him. His mind raced with memories of the battle that had unfolded moments ago, the desperate struggle. He was supposed to fight that? Again? Three of them?

A twisted comfort caused him to smirk despite himself. He found himself relieved that only one of them was a dual wielding metal maniac, like the last one.

After all, weren't four swords flying at your head, better than six?

Still, the sight of Lucias broken body had pierced Markus's heart, igniting a fire within him. He had been the only one with a shield, and his skill made his skin the hardest among them. He stared at his arms and shoulders, riddled with small cuts. He barely felt them. He was supposed to be her protector, both of their protectors. All of their shields against the cruel whims of fate. Evan and Lucia had trusted him with the role. And he’d failed. Shields were meant to protect, to endure. He would not let them down. Not again.

Glancing down at his battered shield, now reduced to a shattered mosaic of holes and dents on the cracked muralled floor, Markus knew it was rendered useless, barely holding together. He would have to rely on his sword, then.

They won't be dying here, Markus resolved, a fierce determination burning within him. He had witnessed the limits of his own strength, the depths of his courage. And had just witnessed Evan transcend the limits of his. He knew he could do the same.

Every fiber of his being prepared for the imminent confrontation, his grip tightened even further, and the ground shattered as he stepped forward with unwavering resolve. Markus stood his ground, his body dense and immovable. And he knew, deep in his core, that he would fight until his last breath, if need be.

The rhythmic cacophony of metallic footsteps echoed across the hall as six mythril soles slapped the earthen rock. The sound was gradually growing louder and clearer with each passing moment. Markus's brow furrowed with concern, If they fought here, would Lucia survive the fallout? Would Evan? A wave of uncertainty washed over him, and unease settled in the center of his gut, before he made his decision.

Markus took a step forward, then another. He braced himself then charged. To keep Evan and Lucia safe. To keep the fight away from them.

He ran.

And they came at him from all angles, their blades flashing in the light.

Time-Smith - Chapter 22: Life and Death

Evan's heart almost burst in his chest with worry as he rushed over to Lucia with Markus following close behind. A [Teleport] sent him sliding up to her prone form, tears welling up in his eyes.

He knelt beside her, trying to assess the damage. Lucia's eyes were half-closed, her breaths coming in short gasps. Blood oozed from the gaping wound in her abdomen, her leather armour stained crimson.

Evan's hands shook as he tried to staunch the bleeding, but it was no use. He knew she was beyond saving. Lucia's half-lidded eyes met his, and tears streamed down her face as she whispered something, on the verge of unconsciousness. Evan was too busy trying to save her to notice.

"..Sorry…," she croaked out, her voice barely audible.

Markus, his hands trembling, reached for his healing potions instinctively. But as his fingers searched his pockets, a sinking realisation washed over him. The potions had been shattered during the intense battle, their vibrant colors were now hissing puddles of chromatic liquid. He saw two separate bubbling puddles, and knew that Lucia's potions were beyond salvaging.

Panic gripped his heart, and he looked to Evan with wild eyes, his voice laden with desperation.

"They're gone, Evan! The potions... they're gone!" Markus's voice cracked, his face a mask of fear and helplessness.

"No... no, we have to save her," Markus pleaded, his voice laced with anguish. "Evan, do something! Anything!"

The weight of those words bore down upon Evan, threatening to shatter his resolve. His mind raced, searching for a solution, any glimmer of hope in the depths of his despair. But as he gazed into Lucia's pale face, pain etched upon her features, a profound helplessness settled upon him.

"I can't... I can't save her," Evan whispered, his voice heavy with remorse. "Removing the sword now could make things worse, or even... even kill her."

Markus's anguish was palpable, his fists clenched in frustration. "No, we can't give up! There has to be something we're missing, some way to bring her back from the edge."

Evan’s mind raced as he tried with all his might to staunch her bleeding. His hands trembled as he reached out with his senses towards Lucia's mangled form. Doubt gnawed at his resolve. He had never successfully used his skill on another living being before. The foreign mana that coursed through their bodies always proved too dense to penetrate.

"I'm sorry," Evan murmured, his voice hoarse with pain. "I wish... I wish I had the power to save her, to undo this. But, Markus. My skills, my mana... they're not enough." Evan's heart ached with the knowledge of his own limitations.

"Please, Evan, there has to be something you can do," Markus implored, his voice quivering with raw emotion. "We can't let her die like this."

Evan's hands shook uncontrollably as he held Lucia's limp body, her life slipping away with each passing second. Desperation clawed at his chest, choking his breath as he fought to keep his composure. The intensity of the moment consumed him, his heart pounding like a war drum against his ribcage.

Swallowing hard, Evan closed his eyes and channelled his magic. He visualised the intricate workings of his skill, the core of mana in his heart, bursting with magical energy. With a trembling breath, he focused his mana on Lucia's battered body, willing his skill to extend beyond himself.

The mana within him surged, flowing from his core into his fingertips. He poured every ounce of his willpower into the desperate attempt to heal her, to save her from the brink of death.

But her foreign mana resisted, pushing back against his efforts like an impenetrable barrier. Evan's brow furrowed in anguish, tears welling up in his eyes. The realisation hit him like a crushing weight—his skill, as powerful as it may be, couldn't breach the thick veil of foreign energy.

Markus's desperate voice pierced through Evan's panic-stricken mind. "You healed yourself, Evan. Heal her. You have to try!"

Guilt clawed at Evan's soul, threatening to consume him whole. The weight of responsibility pressed down on his shoulders, reminding him that this was all his fault. It was his idea to venture into the treacherous depths of the dungeon, his decision that had led to Lucia's current state. And now, she lay there, broken and dying, because of him. The image of her lying there, her life slipping away, fuelled a desperate fire within him.

He couldn't bear the thought of losing her.

The tears streamed down Evan's face as frustration mingled with sorrow. The guilt within him threatened to suffocate him, but he refused to back down.

"I can't let you die," Evan whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I won't let you pay for my mistake."

With a surge of sheer willpower, Evan tried to push through the resistance. The mana surged within him, empowered by the mana of the monster, an untamed force struggling against his control. It felt thicker than ever before, resistant to his intentions. He poured every ounce of his being into the attempt to heal Lucia, to rewrite the tragic course that he had set in motion. Sweat dripped from his brow as his hands trembled, refusing to give up.

R’hazul’s lessons on control resurfaced in Evans mind, and he gathered as much mana as he could manage, a storm of mana contained firmly within his will, and formed it into a spear of intent. The mana bucked and thrashed in his grip, chunks of power escaping his grasp every instant.

Evan thrusted the spear of electric mana, the magical essence of his skill, [Flesh Smith], into Lucia's dying form.

And broke through.

"Markus," Evan's voice quivered with urgency, his eyes locked on Lucia's fading form. "Pull out the sword."

Markus hesitated, the weight of uncertainty heavy in his gaze. "But you said-"

"Pull it out!" Evan's voice cut through the air, laced with a mix of determination and desperation. "I can save her, but we need to act fast!"

With a resolute nod, Markus gripped the hilt of the sword embedded in Lucia's chest, his muscles flexing as he exerted force. The blade slid free with a sickening squelch, a spray of scarlet painting the ground beneath them. Lucia's body jerked upward, a ragged gasp escaping her barely conscious lips.

Evan wasted no time, his mind consumed by a single purpose. The world around him faded into insignificance as he unleashed his [Flesh Smith] skill, a storm of his mana transcending the confines of his body and delving into the depths of Lucia's wounded form. "Protect us!" he shouted, his voice echoing with a blend of determination and vulnerability. He would be defenceless while his consciousness scanned Lucia’s cells. It was up to Markus to keep them safe.

Outside of her body, he would be defenceless, unaware of his surroundings or any threats that could approach. His entire focus was locked within the intricate tapestry of her being, his consciousness scanning, mending, and healing.

Instantly, her damaged cells began to heal.

Evan focused his skill, altering and changing the cells within Lucia's body. He observed as her blood vessels constricted and sealed, effectively halting her bleeding. Her damaged muscle tissue swiftly regenerated, the cells multiplying and knitting back together. The impact had left her bones fractured, but under Evan's influence, they underwent accelerated mending, seamlessly fusing to restore their strength and structure.

Inside Lucia's body, Evan directed his attention to her heart, relieved to find it beating steadily, unharmed by the traumatic intrusion. With gentle guidance, he initiated the repair process, ensuring a continuous flow of blood. The lung, now under his control, mended, its torn tissue becoming whole and enabling effortless breathing. The delicate membranes of the diaphragm mended under his influence, restoring its function in the rhythmic process of respiration. Evan's power extended to the surrounding organs as well, allowing the liver, kidneys, and stomach to repair any lacerations or damages, resuming their vital roles in digestion and detoxification.

Tissues knit together, bones mended, and organs regained vitality. In just a second, the wound disappeared, leaving no trace of the injury.

He surveyed her healed wounds and realised the severity of the situation. Her blood loss was immense and had led to extreme anaemia. Evan knew that she could go into shock at any moment and potentially die within minutes to hours. He needed to act fast to save her life.

He had no choice but to alter her permanently, the only other alternative was to let her die. He had to make her into something more, something that could survive this.

Evan wasn’t sure how she would feel about what he was about to do when she woke up;

but at least she’d be able to feel it at all.

Soul of Blades - Chapter 26: The Black Mass

Chapter 26: The Black Mass

Alex sped off at speeds they could not hope to follow. Careful not to damage houses as a Phoenix Leap sent him soaring. He figured if people were dying, the sooner he arrived, the more chances he had at saving their lives.

As he arrived at the town's border, a harrowing sight befell him. Houses were aflame or crushed. Checkpoints and gates alike were shattered.

Everywhere he looked there were spiders. Giant spiders, swarming the area.

Masses of giant spiders, varying from the size of a child to that of several adults, engulfed the area. About 200 I'd guess, maybe 300, he thought, it's not that many and the Arachne don't seem too high levelled… So why do the guards keep losing?

It made no sense.

Alex was met with a bizarre scene. It was a swarm of Arachne devouring the town's outskirts stretched across the plains between the town and the forest, with more arriving by the second. Their sizes varied drastically, some as small as children, others as large as multiple men. The scene was frantic, with guards engaging in a desperate battle, their blades clashing against the spiders' carapaces, while civilians, gripped by terror, ran for their lives. The spiders, relentless in their assault, ensnared the townspeople. Alex saw the horror in the eyes of civilians– some were motionless, likely dead, while others screamed, their arms reaching out, trying in vain to escape the spiders' grasp. One by one, guards and civilians alike were being overpowered. A young guard, fighting bravely, lost his footing and was quickly seized by a spider as his comrades fought to save him. He was dragged away, joining the unfortunate fate of the others. Alex watched in horror as the spiders disappeared with their victims into deep crevices, which led further into the dark, dense forest surrounding the town. The ground was chaotic, with guards and civilians alike being overpowered and taken away, their chances of escape diminishing by the second.

Alex noticed a guard with a hammer yelling orders and crushing large arachnids with a flurry of swings, only to have his weapon snatched from his grip by a smaller Arachne that latched onto his body. The guard, a captain by the looks of things, was momentarily stunned at the sudden disappearance of his weapon before another larger arachnid clamped on his leg with powerful fangs and mandibles. It dragged his screaming form away as if he weighed nothing.

At the sight of their captain's capture a portion of the guards fled, and the ones who remained fought even more fiercely.

Alex joined the fray. He sliced through the spiders as if they weren't there, trying to save as many as he could. A sharp pain flared in his arm, but he ignored it as

he raced toward the fallen guard captain some distance away, slashing and hacking a path forward with each step. Alex surged forward with swift precision and a downward swing of his blade, severing its pincer. The guard, freed, scrambled to safety through the closing path Alex had made.

Alex searched for more survivors.

He bisected a large Arachne a head taller than he was as it pounced on an unsuspecting Spearman and moved to save more. The spearman was a civilian, or ‘adventurer’ judging by his intricate gear. The man turned in surprise and yelled “No! I have to save her!”, but could hardly afford to continue, or even continue to spare Alex a glance as they were both suddenly swarmed.

Spiders, Arachne of all sizes converged on the pair of them, and Alex thought the words ‘Mana Blade’ as the surrounding light dimmed, replaced by thick walls of carapace.

Alex swung his blade in all directions.

Each spider he cut down was quickly replaced by another. A sharp sting in his thigh momentarily caught his attention, but did little to slow him down. He countered, his blade striking an overhead spider's underbelly. The creature recoiled, then collapsed, ichor pooling around it.

He grabbed the guard, yanking his injured from the spiders' grip, and yelled at him to run back and regroup with the rest, but a thick mass of spiders separated the two, and in the opposite direction more civilians and guards were being dragged away with each second that passed. Alex needed to be there to save people and not stuck here protecting a lone guard.

He picked up a fallen warrior's sword and triggered his skill to hurl its Mana Blade as far as he could, aiming at the ground slightly ahead of the nearest batch of defenders.

The weapon created a path. It sliced through the spiders as if they weren’t there before embedding itself in a screeching creature, its mana disconnected and spent.

“Regroup!” Alex yelled.

The guard nodded sternly and sprinted, hacking at his sides as he ran while Alex searched for more survivors.

Phoenix leap.

He pivoted as he landed closer to the edge of the forest, spinning on his heel and extending his elbow to slash an arachnid and free its barely conscious captive. His sword sang, shining with the light of his Mana Blade through the mounds of twisted carapace as he freed another. One, two, three spiders fell, their ichor spraying in an arc around him. He felt another stinging pain in his thigh, this time it was the left one.

Phoenix Leap.

Alex spotted another hammer-wielding guard being dragged to his doom and shot toward him. In two strides, he was there to slice the offending pincer clean off. The spider dug its remaining one into his arm, and heat flushed throughout his limb before he sliced its head off. The guard, now released, collapsed to the ground. He lay there, limp, but his chest rose and fell with shallow breaths. He’s alive, Alex thought, good. He turned and locked eyes with the people fighting around him and pointed, urging one of them to save their comrade. A guard nodded firmly in response and moved to meet him.

More spiders were coming. Alex raced forward, and another Phoenix Leap led him to cleave a large spider in two. Saving a woman stuck in its grasp, he threw her unconscious form to land near a batch of guards he’d rescued. They stood back to back, hacking and slashing at the creatures around them. “Protect her!” He yelled. It was the best he could do. The spiders weren’t difficult to deal with, he'd killed scores of them. But saving people was. He was constantly stuck between moving to save more or defending the ones who were defenceless.

He swung his blade in an arc with one hand and tore a lost sword from the earth with the other as he imbued it with Mana Blade and hurled it into the remaining mass of Arachne, freeing a woman from another spider's grasp, and clearing a swathe of the horde.

He felt another sting near his neck and reflexively reached up. His fingers closed around a small Arachne latched onto him. As he pulled it away, his hand was stained with a mix of his own blood and the creature's ichor, the Arachne writhing violently in his grasp.

Alex killed it.

People fled as Alex fought towards the forest's edge, desperate to save more. Another stinging pain assaulted his back as he fought, and the world spun and its light dimmed. The guards aiding him fell one by one, and the ones he'd saved were some distance away, forming a phalanx of sorts. He heard screams in the distance as more joined the fray, fighting to reach him.

But it felt muted.

Alex felt a sharp pain in his arm as he slew more spiders, and heat rushed through his veins. Sound and light ceased to exist as everything became more muted.

Heat flushed through his bloodstream as the world spun and dimmed, and his movements became sluggish and distant.

A final sting sent him tumbling to the ground.

And then, surrounded by the scourge of his new world, the Arachne, Alex fell unconscious.

***

He woke up hours later in a dim cave to a flurry of notifications and the world returning to its static place, no longer swirling in his vision.

[You have defeated level 12 Arachne Pupae x7]

[You have defeated level 23 Arachne Pupae x6]

[You have defeated level 17 Arachne Pupae x14]

[You have defeated level 7 Arachne Pupae x9]

[You have defeated level 4 Arachne Pupae x 24]

[You have defeated…]

[You have defeated…]

[Level difference penalty applied]

[Level 32 > 36]

[Strength +16, Dexterity+16, intelligence+24, unassigned stats +16]

[Class milestone reached. Class milestone skill available. Please choose skill]

A final notification appeared among the rest, one that caught his attention even in his dazed state.

[Dynamic Quest - The Queen’s Lair: Arachne Queen...]

Alex attempted to read the rest of the notifications, but he was distracted by the dull, throbbing pains he felt thrumming all over his limbs.

It felt as if he was infested.

Soul of Blades - Chapter 25: The Endless Enemy

Authors note: I've added a new arc that I quite like, I don't want to change the trajectory of the story, but I want each world to have well-defined arcs and characters, as they all serve a greater purpose. The new Arc in Pyra is one I'm pretty pleased with. I'm looking forward to seeing how you guys receive it. Enjoy.

Chapter 25: The Endless Enemy

Tension filled the clearing, as all present prepared to reach for their blades. The knights listened in silence, ears straining eagerly for the Barons' order in the wake of their duel.

“Come find me when you're in town, Alex,” he said, as he turned, sheathed his rapier, and leapt into his horse's straddle in one swift motion.

“I have a job for you. It's something only you can do, and the pay is nothing less than life-changing.” he continued, his voice smooth and calm, as if they hadn't just had a protracted battle. “We’ll discuss the terms of your retainer once you arrive.”

The Baron then raced off into the trees without another word, his men following his horse on foot, disappearing into the thick forest. The group watched in silence until they could no longer hear the clatter of hooves and armour.

The tension that had gripped the clearing began to dissipate, and the group of onlookers turned their attention back to Alex, who stood there, breathing lightly with a thin sheen of sweat, his Mana Blade still humming with energy.

"That was... intense," Finn said, breaking the silence as he eyed the departing figures.

Ayla agreed. "That was insane! I've never seen anyone go toe-to-toe with the Baron like that."

Finn nodded in agreement, his eyes shrewd with understanding. "I have, a few times. But you did better than most, that blade of yours is something else."

Ayla chimed in again, her voice tinged with admiration. "And that last move, when you finally got through his defences! That was great!."

Keir, who had been silently observing, finally spoke, "Yes, but… that bear... it wasn't natural. The way it moved, the metallic sheen on its fur. A simple bear, as strong as an Orc Horde leader." he shook his head.

Finn nodded, his expression grim. "System-evolved creatures are becoming more common- more widespread. Imagine a Revenant gaining even more power. Or a wraith, or even a Spider Queen.” He shuddered at the thought. “It's worrying."

Alex, feeling the weight of their words and an insight into their lives, said thoughtfully, "Seems like you all have been dealing with these kinds of threats for quite a while."

Lyra glanced at him. "Yeah, it's part of the job. Keeps things interesting, at least."

The wounded gryphon, a massive creature that had been observing the duel, now limped into view.

Ayla approached the gryphon, her hand extended carefully to avoid startling it.

She gently petted its feathers, feeling the gratitude in its eyes as it limped closer, its injured leg clearly bothering it. Despite this, Its movements displayed a mixture of pain and gratitude. "It's hurt," Ayla whispered, her hands gently exploring the griffin's wings.

She reached higher, her hands gentle as she further inspected the griffin's injuries. "Easy there, big fella," she cooed, ruffling its feathers in a soothing manner.

The gryphon was large, much larger than Alex had expected, but somehow less imposing than its first impression had led him to believe. Although clearly dangerous, it seemed almost peaceful, like an elephant, capable of trampling you to paste but choosing not to.

Tentatively, he joined Ayla in ruffling its feathers.

The gryphon let out a low, rumbling sound, almost like a purr, as they continued to care for it.

Ayla, while tending to the griffon, added, "This griffon was just defending its territory. It's lucky we were here. And thanks for the Bear, Alex. We should give him some of its pelt.” Her eyes turned to the rest of her party.

“We wouldn’t have this bounty without your help.” Keir agreed, gesturing towards the bear's metal corpse. Alex imagined it would make some formidable and flexible armour. Keir continued “Your maneuvers against the Baron were quite unique. Unorthodox, but effective.”

The conversation paused as they all looked at the griffon, now standing more confidently. It stood as tall as several men, and the sun's Sheen reflected off its gold and silver feathers. It eyed each of them with a soft cooing ruble that shook the grass around them before it sauntered off towards the treeline, its gait slightly improved.

“You’re welcome, Kier," Alex said as he watched the gryphon, its wings parting the treeline with a soft brush as it slowly retreated into the forest. "And the way you guys handled the bear… That was some impressive teamwork," he said, his respect for their skill evident.

Lyra, wiping her brow, replied, “Well it’s far from our first battle, and thanks, you weren't that bad yourself.” She gestured towards his scorched clothes and singed hair. “Took you way too long to beat him, though.“

Lyra, Finn, Keir, and Ayla burst into fits at her comment as Alex flushed red and attempted to muster a response.

***

And then, days later, they arrived at the settlement. The group stopped at the edge of the town, looking over the small congregation of life. A scattering of buildings and stone structures nestled in the lap of a valley.

Ahead, stone and timber houses stood neatly lined, their roofs of slate and thatch worn but otherwise well-maintained. The main street was bustling with townsfolk, some heading to the market where stalls brimmed with fresh produce and fabrics.

The smell of freshly baked bread wafted from a bakery, mingling with the scent of roasting meat from a nearby tavern. Children played near a fountain in the town square, where water cascaded over carved stone. The town, nestled comfortably in the valley, thrived under the watchful eye of the Baron’s castle, perched on a nearby hill.

The sight of other people brought Alex a sense of relief, a small comfort in his journey. There were others like them, others who had also been swept away by the system's tide.

"We should get going," Ayla finally said, breaking the silence." With that, they set in motion, the perimeter of the settlement a visible silhouette against the dying light of the day.

Finn followed, an air of casual nonchalance about him. His eyes scanned the scenery, but he managed to keep the conversation light. "I can't wait to see what 'levels' these townsfolk are," he chuckled, a hint of mischief flashing across his eyes. "I wonder if there's a 'Master Baker' or a 'Supreme Whoreson' among them. Maybe a 'Grand Maestro of Ale',"

A ripple of laughter spread through the group, momentarily replacing the undercurrent of uncertainty that had followed their journey. Keir, usually stoic and reserved, allowed the ghost of a smile to cross his features. Lyra, on the other hand, rolled her eyes, albeit with a fond shake of her head.

Amidst the bustling main street past the town's entrance, the sound of hammers and saws mixed with the chatter of townsfolk.

As Alex peered around him, the surroundings revealed small signs of recent turmoil. Signs so small they were easy to miss. Among the stone and timber houses on the outskirts, some bore deep scorch marks, their walls etched with claw marks and gouges. A small scattering of buildings here and there were reduced to rubble, leaving gaps like missing teeth in the neat rows of existence. But a few buildings among hundreds were easy to miss, and would soon be forgotten, as people, their faces marked with fatigue, worked to repair and rebuild.

"Did something happen here?" he asked, eyeing the scattered damage. “It looks like the aftermath of an attack?" His tone took on a mixture of intrigue as he observed scratches along the walls and floor as if someone- or something- had been dragged away against their will.

Lyra glanced around, her gaze sharp and assessing. "A colony, and most likely a Queen are nearby.” She said, the word carrying a weight that was impossible to miss.

“The Endless Enemy.” She whispered in awe, her face solemn. Alex studied her as she spoke, and notice how her eyes lit up with excitement beneath the facade of melancholy. She practically vibrated on the spot in contained glee.

They had mentioned this before, ‘a foe that attempts to conquer foreign lands’, he remembered them saying.

Kier drew a finger along a damaged wall, tracing the scar of a deep gouge, “An Arachne colony- and Queen— lethal creatures. It's unheard of for them to appear in this region, though.” His voice carried a grim acceptance, his brows furrowing as he squinted at the damage. “Horrible things. Hordes of predators abroad that wage wars wherever they lay. They constantly steal land and bodies to keep their young alive and use hosts to maintain their numbers. They evolve through feeding, you see.” He continued with evident disgust. “At birth, they cannot surviving without feeding on strong species, assimilating them.” He paused as if visited by a distant memory. “There have been rumours throughout town of a colony nearby, though doubtful.”

Ayla, her expression grim, added, “They're a real menace. People taken, turned into... it's bad, Alex.”

Finn, leaning against a nearby wall, responded with a dry tone, "Yeah, they're trouble. Steal you from your home to feed their unborn young. You’ll be eaten from the inside out. And if you're truly unlucky, the young might inherit on your qualities and hunt those you love. Fate worse than death, that.” He took a long draw of what Alex assumed to be tobacco. "The last time they were around, it led to a long and difficult War. Looks like history is repeating itself." He studied the scratches and gouged holes from afar, “and they're not just rumours. I told you I've seen one, they've been here.” He pointed toward the rubble. “Others in town have too.”

“One can only hope it's true.” Lyra chimed, the corners of her lips seemed to fight back a smile at the thought. “If so, war will come sooner than one could hope.”

At this, the others sighed and tutted in disagreement.

Keir turned to face Finn with a thoughtful nod, "It's not that we don't believe you, but it's doubtful.” He then turned to Alex “The last sighting in this region was over a century ago. If it's true then this is new. For this century, at least."

Ayla, her demeanour calm yet sombre and resigned, added, "They've been at war with the other lands- with all of us, really. But not out here."

Keir, his face etched with concern, interjected thoughtfully. "Yes, but the signs suggest the frightening possibility.”

Alex absorbed their words as they informed him, the gravity of the situation dawning on him with each spoken word. It was Lyra who concluded with a decisive tone, "See a Arachnae, any at all — it's them or us. Kill it on sight.”

Kayla began to argue that was superstition, and that the common house spider was no more related to the Arachne than they were, but all but Keir seemed to shut her down.

They need death to survive, grow, and evolve, Alex thought as the argument continued, a grim realisation setting in. Bodies to make themselves stronger, it was a gruesome cycle. According to them, around the globe these ‘Arachnae’ colonies and all their pupae were hunted, their existence a perpetual war against all other life forms. Alex pictured nations united against this common enemy, tirelessly fighting to take back land from these nightmarish creatures.

Yet the Queens- a handful across the world- remained shrouded in mystery and myth, and as far as he was aware were never uncovered. At least not by any who survived their encounter. But someone had to have survived and perhaps even faced one in order for the rest of the world to be aware of the Queens existence at all. There was a breadth of history he was clearly unaware of.

Whole wars just to find them...These queens, hiding out there, somewhere. Turning death into life for their own kind. The idea was wild, almost too much to take in. People fighting, and dying, all to stop these creatures from spreading

Alex pictured it – the queens, hidden in their territories, turning the dead and even the living into feeding grounds. It's horrifying. Being trapped, helpless, as their eggs hatch in a corner a room and unleash spiderlings that promptly eat you alive from outside in.

Alex shuddered despite himself.

A race of monsters fighting for survival while being hunted to extinction. People's fear had even led to killing harmless common spiders, a misguided superstitious attempt to stop the Arachne's proliferation.

The queens were key to their reproduction, and the pupae were their babies, all targeted to prevent their evolution into more formidable beings. Each hunted down in a desperate bid to stifle their growth into future forms, or worse;

New Queens.

And with the system causing everything to change, how much worse could these creatures become?

Alex glanced at Finn with new understanding, realizing why the sight of the evolved bear grown far beyond its limits had caused him such concern.

So, these… Arachne colonies... Queens… they're like a plague, he mused. He then glanced at Lyra’s peaceful expression, her soft smile maintained throughout the discussion. And she had the nerve to call this world peaceful?

Alex, with Lyra and Finn, heaved the heavy carcass of the bear towards a Tanner, or perhaps to a high-level leatherworker, one capable of skinning the metallic creature. After the metallic pelt was removed and prepared, they would take it to a blacksmith. Alex was looking forward to discovering what his share of the highly durable material would be turned into.

As they walked, a scream sliced through the evening sky, followed swiftly by another. Clashes of steel rang out in the distance. From the direction of the town's border, the distant roars and yells of men and women could be heard. Some of them screamed like babes.

“Spiders?” Alex turned to Lyra inquisitively.

Lyra scoffed. “Surely not.” She said. “It's likely some beast, amped up or high on the system's twisting. Orcs, perhaps."

They get high here?! Purely out of curiosity, Alex wondered what kind of drugs a magical world’s society produced. He imagined any magical drug would be insanely addictive- probably inescapable once consumed.

He made a mental note to avoid dodgy health potions.

Lyra broke into his thoughts. "Finn, guard this," She pointed at the gargantuan bear carcass and then nodded at the rest of the group. "We’re investigating the border. You're free to join us if you wish, Alex. We would not mind the help.” She looked at him inquisitively and with gratitude, but there was no expectation or demand held behind her gaze.

“See you there,” Alex smirked and raced ahead.

Time-Smith - Chapter 21: Dungeon - Dangerous Activities - Part 2

Evan, Markus, and Lucia stood stock still, rooted to the stone in awe within the dungeons cavernous halls. Their eyes traced the ancient artwork that surrounded them.

Murals adorned the walls, painted by what they assumed to be inhuman hands, their contours and colours painting vivid images of slaughter and history. The images told tales of widespread war and the being that led it— a being so powerful it could send creatures of myth to a hell of its choosing, with nought but etched, painted, and captured swings of its metal blades.

It was a strange sight that mesmerised all three.

"Look at that. Dragons," Lucia said, pointing to a mural depicting dragons and giants battling the army of flames. "How could they even stand a chance against those creatures?"

Markus furrowed his brow. "I don't know, but it's clear that they did; otherwise, why would they create these murals?"

Evan nodded in agreement. "Someone wanted to leave a record of what happened here. But why?"

Evan continued studying the image. "I wonder what happened to them," he said. "An army that could fight the world. How come we’ve never heard of them?"

The wind howled around them, and the flames on the torches flickered wildly. Lucia shivered, feeling a chill in the air despite the flames.

Markus spoke up, "What's wrong, Lucia? Are you scared?"

Lucia scoffed, stepping forward and placing her hands on her hips in a show of false bravado. "No, why would I be scared? It's just a bunch of paintings on the wall."

The winds flew past them once more, shifting their equipment and causing them to squint beneath swaying hair, as the flames of the hall flickered.

"Ah, a nice gentle breeze," Markus yawned. "Just what I needed to relax."

Evan didn't miss the way Markus hadn't stopped fidgeting with the hilt of his sword or the strap holding the healing potions Lucia had given him. "Speak for yourself," Evan muttered, eyeing the torches warily. "I don't like the look of those flames."

Lucia rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on, Evan. It's just fire. What could possibly go wrong?"

As if on cue, the winds repeated, at odds with their regular intervals, and snuffed out all of the torches at once, plunging them into inky blackness. Evan's heart leaped in his chest as he jumped in surprise. He stretched his senses in all directions in the silence and tried to ignore the thumping of his heart.

Fwoosh.

Sound and searing light startled Evan as the flames burst back to life of their own accord, the flash of light illuminating the terror on Lucia's face as her hand shot out, and clutched his arm.

Before Evan could react, he heard Markus shout a warning, and Evan turned, his eyes adjusting to the sudden light. He spun around just in time to see a massive, armoured figure hurtling towards them, swords drawn, bearing down in a furious arc toward their frozen and shocked forms. His enhanced instincts kicked in, and Evan desperately threw himself in front of Lucia, raising his arms to block the incoming blow. The force of the strike sent shockwaves rippling through the ground and dust cascaded in a shimmer off the surrounding pillars, and Evan felt a searing pain as his reinforced right arm was cleanly severed at the elbow.

As Evan stumbled back, clutching his mangled stump, the armoured figure lunged forward again, blades flashing in a deadly cross. Evan's reflexes kicked in, and he desperately tapped into his [Teleport] skill, disappearing from the spot just as the swords sliced through empty air.

As Evan reappeared he was met with a wall of metal, rock, and armour.

The armoured man was already in the air, swords mid-swing in a cross, ready to bisect Evan into four pieces. How did it know where I’d appear!?, His thoughts screamed. The world froze as he watched the blades descend blindingly fast. Evan frantically tapped into his [Teleport] skill as time slowed to a crawl, his enhanced synapses firing at lightning speed as he made to escape the killing blow. He feared he would be too late.

His vision suddenly became a mess of flesh and steel as a loud impact shook the room.

Markus had come barrelling into the sky and crashed into the hulking figure, his shoulders sending the armoured being flying. The two combatants collided with bone-jarring force, and both Markus and Evan tumbled to the ground in a cloud of dust and debris. A massive crack split the muraled floor where Markus landed as silence once again filled the corridor.

They lay there in silence as Lucia ran toward them.

Lucia quickly drew her dual blades, while Markus reached for his sword and shield, and Evan stood still, holding his severed arm against the stump. He focused on his cells, willing them to reattach his limb. Growing a new arm would take too long, and he wasn't sure if he had the mass or energy to spare.

The group tensed as they heard a faint clanking sound coming from beyond the darkness. As they turned their attention to the sound, they saw the suit of armour begin to rise slowly from the shadows.

A gust of strong wind blew past, swaying the flaming torches along the walls and clearing the dust. It caused the light and shadows to flicker around the slowly rising suit of armour in the distance.

The three stood across from the rising suit of armour and got their first true look at what had attacked them.

The armour was massive and imposing, a full head larger than anyone Evan had ever seen, and covered in intricate designs and patterns that gleamed in the torchlight. Its burning blue flames for eyes stared down at the group from beneath its helm, which was adorned with a horse-like mane of hair. Two long, thin swords glinted menacingly in each of its massive metal hands.

"It's empty," Lucia said, peering through the darkness. "How is it empty?"

Evan's gaze was drawn to the rocky material that seemed to be interspersed at random intervals throughout the armour. He noticed the engravings and designs beneath, matching those on the walls and murals of the chamber. The metal where the rock was located gleamed as if brand new, in stark contrast to the rust and decay that covered the rest of the armour's form.

"Whatever it is, we have to kill it," Evan gritted his teeth and drew his sword. He hadn't really learned how to use one, often preferring to use a bow and arrow, but it didn't matter. He would bludgeon the thing if he had to.

He glanced at Lucia and Markus and saw hints of fear and a look of determination in each of their eyes. Markus held his shield firm and took a single step forward.

The sound echoed in the empty hall.

Without warning, the armour lunged forward, its swords slicing through the air. Evan, Lucia, and Markus dove out of the way, as it landed between them in a crash of stone and metal.

The armour turned to face Markus, its flaming eyes bursting in a bright flash of blue heat.

Markus gulped in trepidation, steeled his nerves, and leapt forward to meet it.

He parried a blow with a deft motion, his [Density Control] causing the enemy's blade to merely cut into the flesh behind his shield, rather than take his whole arm. Blood trickled down his body, staining his leather armour in a crimson tapestry.

Evan felt the familiar hum of telekinetic energy racing through his skeletal structure as a [Teleport] sent him soaring toward the sentient armour. He planned to finish this in one blow.

The hulking armour moved with a haunting grace, countering Evan's teleportation with uncanny, almost prophetic precision. As Evan materialized, the armour's sword descended upon him like a vengeful comet. Evan's senses screamed, his mind racing at the brink of chaos. With lightning-quick reflexes, he twisted in mid-air, and weaved past the flash of sharp metal, narrowly avoiding the lethal strike.

Evan struck out with his sword releasing a shockwave as it connected with the living armour's weapon, and a swift parry from the armour sent his sword flying.

So much for that.

Evan teleported high towards a pillar, appearing in a whirl of misplaced dust before he landed horizontally, digging his fingers into the stone to remain aloft.

And then, he almost lost his life.

It was the sound of whistling air and growing shadows that clued him into the coming danger, the armour had somehow anticipated his [Teleport] and hurled its sword towards his new location. Evan looked down and saw the sharp point of a large sword flying towards him, the armour then leapt through the air to follow, its second blade poised to strike. Time slowed down as Evan watched the ascending blade flying through the air to pierce him. How familiar he thought. He almost laughed.

Evan pulled back his free hand and smashed a fist into the blade as it drew near, and released a shockwave deflecting its path. The blade crashed into the pillar behind his body in a small puff of ancient debris.

Evan pulled back again, channeling a thrum of energy in his bones to meet the ascending suit of armour as it followed through the air preparing to slice him in two.

The armour expertly dodged his strike, turning his devastating blow into a glancing one that caused a small dent, retrieved its sword, and struck out in a wicked arc, forcing Evan to desperately teleport away, before it leapt towards the ground, as the trails of its blue flaming eyes left long streaks of after-images in the darkness.

Evan really hated this thing.

A terrifying efficiency emanated from the armour's every move, its sword was an instrument of swift death. It executed each strike with methodical grace, following some long-lost ancient and unknown sword style. Its movements flowed seamlessly from one form to another, a deadly dance of precision and fluidity.

Evan was just wondering how to kill it.

In the chaotic battle, the armour singled out Lucia, perceiving her as the most vulnerable. In a whirlwind of motion, it spun to deliver a powerful kick, launching Evan through the air in a mess of limbs. Simultaneously, its sword slashed at Marcus, leaving him reeling from the impact, he staggered back as streaks of blood stained the tapestry in a broad arc.

And then, with ruthless determination, it lunged towards Lucia, the flames in its eyes flaring with hunger, as it swung down its sword in a mighty slash.

Pure terror consumed Lucia's face, her eyes reflecting the imminent danger.

“No! Lucia!”

“Look out!”

Evan and Marcus shouted, their voices lost in the cacophony of combat.

Markus sprinted towards her, desperation fuelling every step as Evan landed on the ground and made to teleport towards her. The living armour had gone for a killing blow, a breath away from landing. He wouldn't make it in time, neither of them would. For a moment, the world seemed suspended.

Lucia defied their pleas, and In a split-second decision, chose to confront the living armours assault. She had seen its reach with the swords and knew she couldn't dodge this close, the blades were just too long. With sheer determination, she leapt forward, meeting the descending sword head-on. The impact echoed through the room, followed by a burst of ancient dust that billowed out in a shockwave, momentarily obscuring their vision. In that moment, all Evan could hear was a resounding clang and thumping footsteps as Markus raced to save her. He almost couldn’t bear to look.

As the dust reached them, Evan moved forward, a [Teleport] sending him past the shockwave to join Markus. Together, they looked at a shocking sight.

They both saw Lucia, with one bloody knee planted firmly on the ground. And in both of her hands, she held the killing blow of the living armour at bay.

Her [Iron Grip] was tightened around the living armour's wrist in a vice, defying its deadly intent, and stopping its sword from cleaving into her. With a strength of will, she squeezed, causing the living armour's hand to separate from its body, and crash to the ground with its sword in a metallic clatter.

The armour faltered, its once formidable form staggered forward at the sudden unexpected shift in balance. And with another display of [Iron Grip], Lucia lashed out and tore a portion of its chest clean off, revealing a strange blue glow emanating from within. The glow pulsated, and flickered, a source of ethereal energy visible to the naked eye.

The armour swiftly knocked Lucia to the ground. It loomed over her fallen form, its remaining sword raised high for the final blow. With a battered knee and every ounce of strength, Lucia attempted to leap to the side, but her injured limb betrayed her, and she stumbled painfully onto her back.

“Guys! A little help!?” Her voice rang out desperately, her yell pierced through the shock that seemed to take hold and jolted Evan and Markus into action.

In an instant, a [Teleport] sent Evan behind her, and another sent him crashing into the suit of armour as it attempted to strike her down. As Evan reappeared he whipped his arm forward lightning fast, his intense speed causing a crack to echo through the empty hall as the impact released a shockwave, sending the armour hurtling backward, and straight into Markus.

Markus’s footsteps soon turned from patters, to stomps, and then to booms as he drastically increased his Density. Soon every step he took shattered the murals beneath him.

He smashed into the living armour, his sword and shield bearing down in an arc, hammering it into the ground as Evan appeared from above, leaping down from the ceiling in a puff of air to deliver a devastating blow.

Together, Markus and Evan unleashed a flurry of strikes upon the armour's broken form. Their fists and wrenching motions twisted the metal, rendering it a distorted monument of defeat. Amidst the wreckage, Evan caught sight of a large crystal engulfed in blue flames, nestled inside the armour's shattered chest cavity. Without hesitation, he reached forward on instinct, and crushed the crystal within his palm, releasing a shockwave that tore through the air.

The flames in the armour's eyes flickered and winked out. It was finally dead.

The room fell silent, the only sound the heavy breathing of the combatants and the blood dripping from the mess of shallow cuts covering them. Markus lowered his blade and dropped his battered shield, his face grim with exertion. Evan exhaled as he felt a surge of mana flow into him, filling each of his cores more than any creature he'd faced before.

A hacking cough caused them both to turn around to face Lucia, and the thrill of victory quickly turned into horror as they laid eyes on her.

Lucia was lying motionless on the ground, breathing shallow breaths, a sword in her chest, and a pool of blood forming beneath her.

Soul of Blades - Chapter 24: The Duel

As soon as Alex agreed, a sudden rush of energy unfurled from the Baron, palpable in the air. The space around them warped slightly to Alex’s Outer Focus, a clear sign of a mana field activating and spreading, emanating from the Baron.

The energy washed over the space between them as the sphere solidified, turning into a transparent glowing barrier that separated them from the outside world, encasing them in an impenetrable sphere. Within the barrier, the air vibrated with a force seen only by Alex and sensed by Kier. It thrummed with magical energy.

The Baron's fingers drew a finely crafted rapier from a scabbard Alex had only just noticed. The slender blade shone as it reflected the magical light of the barrier, its length precise and its thickness indicative of its finely crafted nature.

He handled the blade with proficiency, a flick of his wrist causing the rapier to twirl effortlessly from finger to palm.

“I've set the condition to first blood, it could've been death, you know. What's your level, stranger?” The Baron's voice, smooth and controlled, resonated through the clearing as he inquired, calculation apparent in his shrewd eyes.

Alex, maintaining a cautious gaze and even tone, responded, "Does it matter?”

“Humour me,” the Baron said, his eyebrow-raising ever so slightly.

Alex had no interest in hurting the Baron, that would be a foolish way to ingratiate himself into the town and the world at large. But he wouldn't let him steal their loot either, or his stats.

Got to end this quick, a single strike and leave a nick somewhere on him, just enough to draw blood and trigger the duel to end. That seemed to be the best course of action; winning the duel without a protracted battle, keeping the loot, and leaving the Baron's health and pride intact.

“Look, if it's just to first blood, let's just keep it to a light spar? How's that sound? It’s Alex by the way.” Alex’s sentence broke off as he took a small step forward.

“I did not ask for your name, stranger,” the Baron interjected, his hand dismissing the air with a swift, deliberate motion.

"Your level. What is it?" the Baron pressed, gesturing with the rapier, his voice growing firmer.

Alex’s eyes shifted toward the magical enclosure's edges, assessing the amount of space he had to work with. It was just about ten or twelve feet all around; slightly smaller than a Muay Thai or boxing ring, but standard for Kendo, he supposed. It would be a tight fit for his skills, but it would do.

Well, my level equivalent’s actually much higher than 32, if you consider my stat boosts and feats. No need to tell them that, though, he thought, setting his shoulders in a relaxed posture. “It’s 32, why?” Alex's response was straightforward.

Shock rippled through the group, Ayla shifted restlessly, her grip on her sword faltering. Kier's fingers drummed anxiously against his slightly curved staff, and a stunned silence hung in the air.

Finn's jaw dropped.

“Wh-what!?” Ayla sputtered as she subconsciously stepped back.

“32!?” Kier's astonishment was evident, his head snapping back slightly in surprise.

“He lies!” one of the Barons' knights yelled in disbelief, his gaze flitting between Alex and the Baron.

The Baron's face briefly registered surprise, which swiftly melted into a composed expression, the rapier returning to a steady grip. “That's quite the claim.” He spoke, a hint of scepticism lacing his words. "How did you manage to reach such heights when the tutorial ending quest was class gain at level 15?”

Level 15 class quests? Why was my class quest at 25? Was I expected to die in that dungeon? What the hell? Alex forced himself to school his expression and remain calm at the revelation.

“I suspect your comrades are somewhere between level 15, and level 20.” The Baron continued “I myself have just reached level 30, and with considerable resources and wealth spent in the process." The Baron gestured to his men, but as he gestured, his eyes betrayed him, landing on the distant town beyond the barrier.

His men shifted at his address, their armour shining with reflected magical light.

“There is no need to lie, stranger. It won't make a difference.” The Baron’s dismissal was accompanied by a slight shake of his head. He adjusted his grip on the rapier, muscles hinting at a confident combat stance.

"Look, dude. I'm not lying, I'm trying to tell you—" Alex began.

“Well, I tried.” The Baron interjected. As he spoke, his hand extended the rapier to point at Alex, a glint of steel catching the blue light.

This guy just loves to talk, doesn’t he? Alex thought. The Baron reminded him of some of the more arrogant practitioners he met from time to time back on earth. When they sensed you were comfortable with their dance, they liked to negotiate- to try and get their way with the least resistance possible, or dig for information that they could either use against you, or to convince themselves they had a strong chance at beating you. It was funny how scared they were of a real challenge, sometimes. This guy doesn’t seem any different. Bet he’s going to try and attack first now he's convinced himself he has the upper hand. These types always do.

The Baron continued, oblivious to Alex’s assessment. “Brace yourself, and try not to die too quickly, stranger.” As he spoke, his grip on the rapier tightened. “It would make you look far too weak, and as a result would make me look bad,”

A wicked grin spread across the Barons' features. “And we can't have that. ‘Sunstrike.”

Light coalesced at the tip of his rapier, a point of brilliance against the dimming sky. It burst forward in a beam, aiming straight for Alex's heart. The air around it rippled with the intense heat.

Alex watched the beam, his pupils dilating minutely.

Predictable. He thought dryly, as the Lance of blazing light raced towards him at speeds only he could follow, if barely. Boundless Dodge, he then thought.

In an instant, Alex's body responded. He twisted, the world around him blurring as his mana seized him, moving him beyond his normal capabilities. It twisted his body to the left, an agile and fluid motion. The beam of light grazed past him, searing the ground where he had stood a moment earlier.

Alex spun on his heel and crouched, his empty palms reaching towards his hips as if holding an imaginary blade.

The Baron, rapier still in hand, tracked Alex's movement with a curious look in his eye, his weapon a steady line aimed at him.

Alex still had no intention of injuring or offending the apparent owner of the land he intended to call home. That would be a terrible way to start his new life. Just a scratch, just enough for a drop of blood, nothing more. he thought, eyeing the Baron's cheek. His intention was clear in his mind: swift, precise, minimal. A light scratch to draw’ first blood’, and a quick and decisive end to the duel, not a brutal fight.

Alex's muscles tensed, ready yet controlled. His eyes, sharp and clear, were locked onto the Baron, still focused on a spot just above the Baron's right cheek.

He moved. In one motion, he swung his empty palm with furious swiftness as if drawing a sword, rotating his hips to face his target, stepping forward, and executing a powerful cut, leveraging his lower body's strength.

His arm moved in a practised, fluid motion. With a thought, the air burst with a faint pop as a blade appeared in motion between his palms. He grasped the hilt tight in mid-swing. Alex’s sword blurred in a flash, a silver streak arching towards the stunned Baron's cheek.

The Baron's eyes widened helplessly.

At the moment of contact, As the tip of his blade sliced the baron's cheek, a brilliant burst of light replaced the expected sensation of metal grazing skin. Instead of the expected slight resistance of skin, the blade met light and air. The figure before Alex shattered like glass, scattering into radiant particles, scattering and fading. The figure before him, illuminated intensely, fragmented into a myriad of light particles, scattering and fading like sparks in the night.

Alex's eyes registered surprise, a rare moment of shock.

The real Baron stood a few feet, eyes wide with surprise that mirrored Alex’s own. He quickly realigned his stance, rapier aiming at Alex with precision. But there was something off about him – his entire figure appeared to be composed of light, a hardened light that had the odd appearance of glass. To Alex, it looked like glowing plastic or the dim, ambient light of neon signs.

“You're faster than I expected.” The Baron said, each word dripping with muted shock.

Alex didn't design to respond. Instead, he darted forward, his movements a blur, the ground barely seeming to touch his feet. He was upon the Baron in a heartbeat, Blade in hand. His sword was a blur of blue light as it swung, the light of the magical barrier reflected in his powerful swing.

With the force of Alex's strike, the Baron's Hardlight body shattered. His form broke like fragile crystal, its pieces vanishing into thin air.

Again.

The Baron reappeared as a blur, attacking Alex from all sides as if moving through light. But Alex's blade moved in a blur too, striking down each attempt at his life in a succession of swift, precise movements. The Barons form constantly shattered upon impact, dissolving into motes of light only to reappear in another location.

The luminescent figure of the Baron emerged, this time directly behind Alex and in mid-swing, an arc of heated air trailing his rapier. Alex's reaction was immediate - a swift sidestep followed by a precise, forward lunge. His blade met the baron's shoulder, and with a resonant clash, it too shattered, scattering the Baron’s form into countless motes of light.

Where?- Alex searched for the baron's new location within the confined space. There he is.

The Baron reappeared, moving with a controlled stride, and halted a few feet from Alex. His stance was rigid, eyebrows raised with an air of disbelief. "Are you truly level 32? You're almost as capable as I am," he said, pausing slightly after each statement, as if he was still weighing Alex's worthiness.

"But you cannot hope to keep up. When you shatter my form, for a moment, I reappear at a location of my choosing at the speed of light. Did you know light had a ‘speed’? That it travels? Hah! The wonders never cease, I love this ‘system’, truly. It's going to turn me into a god," he continued, his chest rising and falling more noticeably with each word.

In the next moment, their blades met in a clash. Alex moved rapidly, his arm and blade forming a seamless arc. The Baron's form fragmented under the impact, dissolving into a cloud of light particles. He instantly rematerialized, suspended in mid-air above Alex, his figure a blur of rapid movement. Arms stretched out, his rapier moved in patterns that released beams of lasers that rained down, charring the earth where they struck to carve deep furrows into the dirt. The ground hissed and steamed, the air around the impact sites rippling with heat.

Alex's evasion was swift, each step and turn avoiding the descending beams, his mind elsewhere. How can I cut this guy? Without killing him? How do you cut light? Alex wondered.

Alex lunged again, blade first, targeting the Baron's reappearing form. The Baron attempted to parry with his rapier, and the clanging of metal rang through the clearing. He went tumbling to the ground.

Oops. Alex thought, should hold back a bit more there.

With another swift cut of Alex’s blade, the Baron disintegrated, only to materialize again, this time at a distance, showing signs of fatigue. His shoulders slumped slightly, and his breathing became more pronounced.

“Alex, did you say your name was? I'll remember it. If you survive this, come work for me,” the Baron said, standing a bit straighter, the offer hanging in the air between them. “If placed under the right leader, a man of your talents could rise to heights that extend far beyond this land's borders,”

“With the right support, You could be a King’s right hand - a Vizier,” he continued, his hand gesturing slightly as if holding treasure. “My Vizier.”

“I’ll think about it,” Alex replied, his grip on his blade tightening. He felt as though he was close to finding an answer to the question that had eluded him this whole time. He had been hesitant to use it, out of fear of accidentally killing the Baron, but now he had a bead on the man's speed and movements, he felt he had found the answer to the question; How does one cut light?

With magic, perhaps?

His Mana Blade sprang to life, humming with bright energy, as he prepared to end this.

“SolarWind Slash.” The Baron, not missing a beat, swung his rapier in a wide arc. As he did, a rush of wind followed, charged with scorching energy, cutting through the air towards Alex. Alex's eyes tracked the movement, his body already responding. He stepped away, hopping to the side with a burst of speed, feeling the heat of the solar wind singe the tips of his hair.

Gusts of hot, charged air swirled around the Baron’s rapier. With each swing, visible arcs lashed out, leaving trails of scorched earth, shimmering air and singed grass as they raced towards Allex.

Alex, dodging the scorching gusts and beams of light, closed the distance. The heat from each strike warmed Alex's cheek, scorched his clothes and singed his hair as he moved closer.

But it didn't touch him. Alex simply dodged and advanced.

He stepped forward, tilting his head to dodge a beam of superheated light and air.

He sidestepped an errant blade of superheated solar wind that gouged through the earth towards him, then ducked another beam.

His sword hummed with energy that vibrated in his grip, casting a blue light of its own as impossibly sharp mana encased it. He stepped closer, and closer, as the baron frantically hurled projectiles in his direction, the concern on the baron's face growing into full-blown panic.

Alex’s Mana Blade sliced through the air.

The Baron stumbled backwards in surprise, his techniques forgotten. He yelled “Hardlight Legionnaire!” as he fell. His skin morphed into a glowing, glassy neon material as the blade connected with his shoulder, shearing through his armour as if it wasn’t there, the air hissing as the blade cut through it.

Alex pulled back at the last moment, causing his Mana Blade to simply nick the Baron's skin, right as his fallen opponent burst into hundreds of notes and fragments of glittering light.

A sound like shattering glass filled the air.

The Baron reappeared, a hand pressed to his shoulder. A thin line of red marred his skin beneath his cut armour, and a drop of blood fell between his fingers. Alex’s Mana Blade had worked.

Finally, Alex sighed. That damned skill, it's like he has nine lives. No wonder his level’s among the highest in town. Unless you hit him with something powerful, he just keeps getting back up.

Without a strike imbued with significantly sharp or strong mana, someone like Finn or Ayla would never be able to draw a drop of blood from the Baron. The duel would often be rigged.

Why’d the system give a dick like him such a great pair of skills? He would've called it unfair, but his feats and class were no different, he supposed.

The barrier around them began to dissolve, the energy dissipating into the air, leaving behind a scene of shocked silence.

The Baron rose to his feet and studied Alex, his expression unreadable.

The clearing held its breath, as Lyra’s group and the Barons knights tensed, prepared for battle in the wake of Alex’s victory.

Then the Baron spoke.

Soul of Blades - Chapter 23: The Challenge

As they tiptoed towards the slumbering griffon, Ayla's eyes scanned the area, drifting over broken bones and brutalised corpses as her expression grew puzzled. "It's not like a griffon to hunt this aggressively," she whispered.

“Or hunt this many”

Finn, his gaze locked on the bear remains, added, "It wasn't the griffon. I was tracking a bear, a massive one, but lost the trail just before we got here." He gestured towards the bear's large carcass, nestled in a crater, its enormity dwarfing their presence, even now. “Most of the corpses here have been shredded by claws and teeth, not gouged by talons. This isn’t the griffon's lair- I reckon it’s the bears.” He thumbed towards the carcass once more.

They halted, the ground beneath their feet a mosaic of bones and remnants. To proceed any further would be to shatter bones both old and fresh, and create a cacophony that would startle and wake the sleeping griffin.

And so it was Finn's turn to move ahead silently. His form phased in and out of the shadows, soundlessly moving from place to place as he inspected the remains for more clues.

A crashing sound ensued, and shards of tree bark erupted in a spray, shattering bones throughout the clearing. The cacophony of splintering wood and shattering bones erupted in the tree line.

A bear, larger than any Alex had ever seen, burst into the clearing. Its fur lined streaks of metallic sheen and its claws and teeth glinted like cold steel. The ground was gouged with its every movement, and bones were crushed like brittle clay.

Finn, stepping back into invisibility, "That's not like any bear I've ever seen. The system truly warped it,” he remarked in surprise, as his form faded into darkness.

The griffon, awakened by the intrusion, staggered to its feet, a deep wound in its stomach oozing crimson blood into the grass and mud. It let out a screeching challenge, staggering under its own weight. The bear responded with a guttural roar, and the air burst amidst the chaos, rattling all present.

The two colossal beasts clashed, their roars and screeches intertwining in a deadly cacophony, their battle sending vibrations through the ground. Ayla, eyeing the griffon, said, "We can’t let it die," her voice tense but resolute. “Griffons can be peaceful, It’s not the one responsible for all this death.” She eyed the shattered corpses and bones while muttering the name of some skill under her breath. “This was the work of the metal bear.”

Lyra, watching the creatures exchange ferocious blows, nodded. "They are both beasts. But we target the bear," she commanded, her tone resolute. "Ayla’s right and Finn's already confirmed it. The Bear’s our mark. Take position.”

The group moved into position, the griffon's eyes shifting to them, warily registering their presence as it shifted and limped, unsure of their intentions. The bear, its metallic fur glinting in the light, roared a challenge to their intrusion.

Lyra, her stance firm, muttered words that sounded to Alex like “Stoneheart”. Her skin transformed into a stone-like armour, hard rocky, and grey, appearing ready to withstand the upcoming onslaught. Keir, with a fluid motion, summoned blades of water, the moisture in the air coalescing into lethal weapons. One blade, then another, then many more.

They charged.

And the bear charged too, its metallic claws gouging lines through the earth. Ayla reacted swiftly, her arms and shoulders morphing into powerful, bear-like appendages. She met the bear's charge, their clash resounding through the clearing.

A meaty thud sounded as they collided. Alex was shocked to see Ayla still standing, although injured.

“Umbral Step” Finn hissed as he vanished once more into the shadows.

Finn reappeared behind the bear, bursting from its shadow wrapped in tendrils of fading darkness.

He appeared with daggers as long as forearms, and twice as thick, and struck without hesitation. Alex noted his strikes were precise and silent, the only sound made being the bears' thrashing attempts to retaliate and its blood splattering against the surrounding earth and bone.

They’re… actually pretty good. Alex thought with mild surprise. He believed he could still take them, but it wouldn’t be easy. They were handling the metallic beast without great difficulty and moved with a cohesion that spoke to years and years of teamwork.

He had decided to step back and observe the battle at first. Having no idea of the average level of strength that existed in this world when compared to his own, an opportunity to witness a battle of experienced and somewhat famous adventures could be nothing but eye-opening.

And so he observed, with a loose grip on the edge of his resting blade.

“Stoneweavers Edge.” Oblivious to Alex’s ongoing assessment, Lyra shifted her sword into a massive hammer of some strange dark rocky mineral. She swung with all her might, the stone weapon colliding with the bear's side. The impact sent the creature stumbling, but it regained its footing, unfazed.

Finn, stepping out of the shadows, appeared out of breath, and spoke, "Its hide's tough as steel. Hit the soft spots and the areas already damaged, or the sections without a sheen of metal. It's the only way.” He vanished again, slipping into his shadow beneath him, and reappearing near the bear from the shade of a tree to strike swiftly.

As the battle raged, the griffon limped away in retreat. It watched them from a distance with tentative movements as it licked its wounds, a mix of caution and curiosity in its every reactive twitch.

Alex, still observing from a distance, noted the bear's agility as it twisted and turned to face every attack. "Faster than it looks," he muttered. Okay time to move, can't let them soak up all the experience. He observed as the bear suddenly snapped its jaws at an unsuspecting Kier, only for Lyra to hammer it away. With a lot more levels, that thing could be a real problem. He decided it was time to act.

Mana Blade.

The skill shone brightly, slicing through the bear's metallic fur with ease. His mana clearly depleting to his enhanced senses, thanks to Inner Focus. Phoenix Leap', he thought, immediately soaring over the melee as he deactivated the sharpened blade.

He landed gracefully beside Ayla, just as the bear's massive paw descended towards her. Without hesitation, he activated Boundless Dodge, and his movements blurred into a streak, snatching Ayla from the path of the blow.

Her eyes met his and although they briefly flashed with gratitude, her words were anything but grateful. “Thanks,” she said, “But I could’ve handled it.” She raised her ‘bear’ arm as if to prove a point, its ruffled fur and bulging muscles extending into oversized shoulders. It looked strange when compared to the rest of her dainty form.

“See.” She said, a slight grin forming on her freckles features. “No biggie. Nature's Embrace.” She reached out towards the raging beast, and as she did so, thick vines and flora sprouted from the ground in perfect sync with her movements. They snapped and grasped the creature, slowing its movements and causing it to stagger.

Alex stepped back to observe them once more.

In the clearing, chaos reigned as the group converged on the metallic bear with a flurry of coordinated attacks. Finn, a shadow among the trees, darted in and out of visibility, his strikes swift and precise, targeting the bear's vulnerable spots, distracting it from the others with sharp bouts of pain while Ayla grappled the creature with her beast-like arms, ensnaring it, her grip unyielding. Kier's control over water manifested as sharp icicles, striking from a distance, each icy projectile finding its mark on the gaps within the bear's tough hide with lethal accuracy. Lyra, her skin hardened to stone, absorbed the bear's retaliatory swipes, countering with powerful, earth-shaking blows. Her heavy blows caused deep meaty thuds to sound through the clearing, leaving visible dents on the creature's body.

The bear, caught in this relentless assault, reeled under the impact of their combined might. Its attempts to break free were thwarted by Ayla's constriction, Finn's elusive movements, Kier's piercing ice, and Lyra's unyielding force. In a coordinated flurry of action, each member of the team played their part flawlessly, seamlessly shifting between attack and defence, overwhelming the bear until it finally succumbed, collapsing onto the scarred earth.

The bear rose to its feet with a final roar and lumbered towards the group, staggering forward as they spread to surround it. To Alex, it appeared to be on its last legs, as if an errant wind could cause it to collapse. Its metallic fur, which had blocked blows from countless opponents, was now dented like fragile wood in places. It was a battered hulk of fur and scars, and one of its eyes was missing.

And yet, it moved towards them, heedless of its injuries, the ground trembling with each step.

Tough bastard, aren’t you? Alex thought with a strange kind of begrudging respect as he prepared to summon a mana blade and put the creature out of its misery.

As they all stepped forward to face the beast's final advance, a group of armed and armoured men burst through the trees and raced towards the massive creature.

Five men in full armor, who Alex immediately found himself thinking of as 'knights’. They raced on foot, armed with swords and shields. Ahead of them raced a man on a horse, a man wearing armour so heavily embroidered that it bordered on impracticality. He was clearly the leader of the armoured knights, and he yelled as they charged.

“The metal monster! It’s here!” At his provocation, the foremost member of the intruders yelled again, this time an order to “Charge!”, and the rest raised their weapons and followed. They hammered toward the wounded beast heedless of Lyra, Alex, and the rest of the group already in battle with their target.

They burst past Alex’s team without even so much as a glance.

Alex stood in slack-jawed surprise and watched as the newcomers made short work of the already-beaten beast. It soon collapsed in a bloody mess on the ground, a blow from the man in embroidered armour denting its metallic fur as if it were made of nought but wood. The beast had fallen for a final time, joining the rest of the carcasses as one of its own.

[You have defeated a level 33 Direforged Bear.]

There it is again, but without an experience bonus. Probably because it’s now taken 10 of us to collectively defeat a single beast. Through the notifications, Alex was beginning to understand how the system distributed experience. It seemed that so long as he defeated a higher-levelled beast alone or with a significantly smaller number of people, the level difference bonus would be applied. But in this instance, the beast had suddenly been grossly outnumbered.

A bulk of their experience had essentially been stolen.

The leader's knights surrounded the massive carcass, pulling out tools and cutting instruments, intent on harvesting large swaths of undamaged and clearly defensive metallic fur. Two knights stood watch, eyeing them with unspoken intensity; an intensity that radiated from between the slits in their silver helms.

They were stealing the loot, too.

Lyra's voice, sharp and indignant, cut through the tension. "Thieves! You waltz in here with your fancy armour, claiming to protect our town, but all you've done here is steal what's rightfully ours."

The leader of the group, a man bearing impractically decorative armour, turned. His gaze was disdainful as he retorted, "Your town? I assure you, I am the guardian of these lands. We have the right to harvest the spoils of our hunt, and that includes this beast."

Kier, his fists clenched, interjected, "Your hunt? We bled and fought against this creature, and now you claim the prize? That's not justice or protection; that's robbery."

The leader's knights, clad in armour that gleamed with arrogance, brandished their weapons, ready to defend their lord's claim. Lyra, undeterred, stood her ground, her eyes ablaze with defiance. "You're not the saviour you pretend to be,” she spat, her hand on the hilt of her sword.

The man’s gaze narrowed, a predatory glint in his eyes. "You dare accuse me? I am Baron Frostthorne of house Winterfall, and my authority surpasses your petty grievances. The town's prosperity is my charge, and you, Lyra, regardless of your fame, would do well to remember your place."

“Even so.” Lyra, unyielding, stepped forward, her voice laced with conviction. "Your authority doesn't grant you the right to steal from those who shed blood for this town. We won't bow to your arrogance."

A knight, with swift motions, unsheathed a long dagger, the blade catching the dappled sunlight. "Commoner rabble. How can you talk to our lord like that? It's insane!" He flanked the baron with stern movements, his back rigid and body stiff, as if every muscle beneath the metal seethed with anger at the perceived slight. "What gives you the right to insult him?”

Another knight, clad in glinting armour, drew his sword with a metallic rasp, eyes locked on the group with an unspoken threat. His gauntleted hand held the blade loosely, as if he considered a battle with the adventurers beneath his notice or care.

A third knight, his visor down, moved forward with measured steps. The clinking of armour resonated, creating an ominous rhythm that underscored the slow drawing of his blade.

And another knight, the rear guard, positioned himself with a bow at the ready. With his arrow notched, he aimed with precision, eyes cold and calculating yet filled with indignation. "Put your weapons down or deal with the fallout of your disrespect." His sharp voice sounded from within his helm, cutting through the clearing with a hollow cadence.

The fifth, a bulky figure in knights armour brandishing a broadsword, shifted his weight as his deep voice boomed, muscles tense beneath the metal. "Indeed, insulting our lands Baron won't go unanswered. Prepare yourselves.” His gaze swept over the group, a silent assessment of the impending confrontation, as if he was judging who he would slay first.

He stepped forward.

But the Baron raised a commanding hand to stop his armoured men, a subtle yet firm gesture that silenced and captured the attention of the entire group. He held a wickedly calculating look in his eye.

"A Baron such as myself would never need to steal anything." He pointed at the town, a gesture laden with implied responsibility. "I am the guardian of all its citizens,” His gaze turned cold and imperious, sweeping over all present as he spoke with an air of authority. “Even you."

In a deliberate continuation, his gauntleted hand motioned towards the group, armour creaking subtly. "We've been hunting this beast for an entire day," he declared, his voice carrying through the forest. Baron Frostthorne rose to his full height, shoulders squared and chest puffed out, the metallic embroidery on his armour glinting in the light as he shifted. "I extend my thanks for your assistance in the hunt."

His party, armoured figures standing in disciplined formation, emanated an aura of strength. The clinking of their gear added a percussive undertone to the forest sounds, underscoring their claim. "However," he continued, the metal plates of his armour rustling with the movement, "we've dealt significant damage, earning us rightful claims to the bounty, harvest, and experience."

"If you truly dispute the claim," he announced, his voice carrying a sinister edge, "one of you may challenge me to the rights at a time and place of my choosing according to the law.”

A hushed murmur spread among the baron's men, their anger momentarily subdued by the prospect of a legal resolution. “And as for the time and place; I choose here,” The baron, confident in his convictions, fixed his gaze on Lyra, and drifted from each member of her group to the other, challenging them to take the next step.  “And now.”

His gaze lingered on Alex for a moment, and a look of unfamiliarity briefly flashed across his features before he returned his gaze to land on Lyra. His eyes settled on her with unnerving focus.

At his provocation, Kier, Ayla, and even Finn seem to falter and reconsider. But Lyra stepped forward without hesitation, drawing her sword in agreement.

At this, the Baron smirked and asked, “I challenge you to a ‘Wager Of Battle’, do you accept?”

Something about the way he said those words caught Alex’s attention. He'd said it as if each word carried weight and was capitalized, as if they were more than just mere words. As if he was saying the name of a skill, he thought.

“Of course,” Lyra said before blinking in confusion, “I see no message, where is your challenge?”

The baron's smirk expanded into a full-on smile as he replied, “I did not challenge you, but him,” he pointed a gauntleted finger in Alex’s direction with a self-satisfied sneer. “He was a part of your hunt, no? Some new member of your group, perhaps?” He seemed to size Alex briefly before appearing unimpressed with whatever internal appraisal he'd clearly come to. “I have never seen him before, and I know everyone worth knowing. He will represent you, or you will forfeit the rights.”

“I'm giving you a chance.” Another sneer, his words seeped in disingenuity as he relished the confrontation.

[Designation ‘Baron Frostthorne’ has challenged you to a Wager of Battle. As a combat class, refusal will result in a penalty. Do you accept?]

Alex blinked in surprise at the notification and hesitated. He was tempted to immediately agree, but was unsure about cultural faux pas and needed some clarity. The prospect of a duel, however, held no uncertainty to him. He had observed them slaying the beast, and while they were all surprisingly strong, their strength did not seem intimidating.

He just wanted to be sure it was the right decision.

Alex whispered back a question to Lyra, addressing his main concern of the systems ‘Penalty’. “What happens if I refuse?” he asked. Lyra pursed her lips in response, hesitant to answer, before finally responding. “Then he will steal some of your experience. It's a paltry amount and he can only do it once, as less is stolen if you're far below his level. ”

At her words, Alex’s eyebrows arched in surprise. That was practically a cheat; to gain experience from mere challenges. “You said less is stolen if I'm far below him, but what if I refuse the challenge when my level is higher than his?” Lyra looked at him incredulously, as if he'd just said something stupid, before she muttered a response. “Then he'll steal more- a level, maybe two- and all the stats the stolen levels provided. But you don't have to worry about that, we estimate his level at being almost twice that of most.”

Loosing two levels? And 36 stats? That was unacceptable.

Lyra looked at him with concern, “It's dangerous, Alex. More than it seems. The duel is to first blood, but he will probably look to kill you and frame it as a mistake. In fact, he will definitely try to kill you, for the experience. And if he somehow fails, he will hunt you down. He has one of the higher levels among those in town, and during the tutorial his skills were among the most dangerous.” she hissed in hushed tones.

“He uses light as a weapon, changing its form and even imbuing himself with its power. It’s deadly. He's a ‘Solar Knight’, we think, but he refused to confirm. Whatever his class is, it's dangerous, indefensible. You can refuse if you want. We'll find another creature to hunt and make back whatever we lost instead.” Lyra seemed to beg Alex to refuse with her eyes, her gaze filled with frustrated sympathy.

Alex looked over to the man's smiling and smug features as he dismounted. The baron appeared to view them all with disdain and impatient irritation, as if he'd already won and the action of the duel was nothing more than an inconvenience. He then looked to Lyra, Kier, Finn, and Ayla's worried expressions.

[Duel of Wager: Accepted]

Alex made his decision, and willed his acceptance to the system.

Time-Smith - Chapter 20: Dungeon - Dangerous Activities - Part 1

Gideon was bored. He was watching the end of a universe, a hobby of his, from his domain. It changed from second to second, billions of actions from billions of people setting a tsunami of events in motion that often resulted in the end of everything.

Time was funny like that—it ebbed and flowed and shifted, yet remained stationary. He watched as moments blurred and distorted, some stretching out to infinity while others flashed by in an instant.

It lost his interest.

He looked to the right at his sister and her familiar, in another dimension, and watched as they embarked on a journey through different spiritual dimensions, encountering vast spiritual beings, exploring the mysteries of the universe, and discovering their true selves. Gross.

Time could give a man a sense of purpose and direction, it also made a person feel responsible for the fate of the world. But what was the fate of one world when there were so many? He had seen the births and deaths of countless gods and universes, each one less interesting than the last. A man had once told him that he had to be careful with his sight, because even the smallest action could have far-reaching consequences. What a fool.

He grabbed a large spear the size of a tree, from a large pile stacked on his balcony. And aimed at the sky, pulling his arm back taut before he flung with a burst of might, the resulting sonic boom shook the foundations of the platform as the giant spear disappeared past the horizon and through the clouds.

He turned and looked to a reality where the only form of existence was sound, and the worlds were a symphony, and saw music. It helped him relax as he worked.

Walking back to his chair while still listening to the dimensional symphony, he sat down and remained still, turning his head to gaze at the spear flying across landscapes and causing devastation in another land as it struck the earth.

Gideon gazed past his balcony, watching the chaos unfold miles and miles away.

The giant spear had hit a house, striking it at sonic speeds and killing a young man. Now, Gideon observed the aftermath with detached curiosity, using his only skill, [Omni-Sense], and his vast array of sensory abilities to perceive the devastation in all its forms.

He saw the heat waves generated by the explosion and tracked the spread of the flames. The fire engulfed the surrounding buildings, leaving nothing but charred remains in its wake. He detected the temperature changes caused by the explosion, including the heat signature of any living beings in the area. Sadly, he could see no one who was still alive.

Gideon squinted, and gazed at the time-lapse of the impact, viewing the explosion in slow motion. He saw every detail of the blast and its aftermath. He could see straight through the debris and rubble, and attempted to locate any survivors or hidden objects.

But there were no survivors, and the only objects he saw were fragments of what once were people's homes.

He could see the entire area around the explosion at once, and had a full view of everything occurring in the area including any hidden or obscured regions. He watched the microscopic debris and particles generated by the explosion, including the pathogens and pollutants they contained. The toxic fumes generated by the explosion made his nose tingle, and he was momentarily stunned by the immense damage he had caused.

He hadn’t thrown it that hard.

He could generate a mental three-dimensional model of the explosion and its effects, allowing him to explore it in detail from any angle, and did he so, while time was slowed down. He peered at the molecules that made up the materials involved in the explosion and tracked their movement and reaction. It only added to his curiosity, as he saw the destruction he caused in such vivid detail. It was like a painting trapped in time, infinitely complex.

As he observed the destruction, he also perceived the emotional impact of the explosion on the people in the area, sensing their fear, panic, and grief. He could sense the residual psychic energy left by the explosion and any psychic disturbances caused by it. He paused, feeling their pain, confusion, and sorrow in great detail.

And he smiled. Killing a [Hero] always made him feel better.

"We possess art lest we perish from the truth," he muttered to himself, absentmindedly.

He glanced idly at the past, and saw himself meeting- and killing- an interesting boy, in a past that had both happened, and hadn't really happened at all.

He had just seen something he had never seen before. Where was the boy now—in a dungeon?

Now that was interesting.

Gideon stood up from his chair, and made to leave his domain.

***

Evan, Lucia, and Markus stood at the edge of the Godfell dungeon. A gaping maw in the earth. The deep rocky gash in the earth appeared like a large crater with pitch-black depths, an imposing hole in the ground the size of a large mansion that reached up to form a crack in a large rocky hill at one end. They were not adventurers, the suicidal lot, and two of them weren’t even registered hunters, but they had a mission - to explore the depths of the dungeon.

Markus and Lucia were stunned; their jaws dropped in unison when they saw the changes Evan had made to his body, seemingly overnight. In their eyes, he now looked as if he had spent years running or tirelessly chopping wood. It was a stark contrast to the unassuming form he had the day before. They exclaimed as they noticed the scar tissue in crisscrossing patterns reaching up from beneath his armoured neck.

"So you can just... change your body however you want?" Lucia looked thoughtful, and, was that jealousy he saw? That was a first.

"Well, you definitely took the concept of a 'gleamup' to a whole new level," she added with a sigh as she traced one of the scars on his arm with a finger. It tickled.

Markus, caught off guard by Lucia's remark, furrowed his brow in confusion. "a glow-up?"

Lucia instantly responded "No, that's not what I said. Look at him, it's like a phoenix. And in just one night, too. Evan, that should take months. Your body looks like it's been through some serious adventures."

Catching Lucia's gaze, Evan responded with a wry smile. "Adventures in the mirror, you mean. What's funny? Hey- not like that, stop being dirty-minded. Ew." His smile quickly turned to dismay.

Evan waved his hand dismissively, feeling slightly uncomfortable with all the attention on him. "To be honest, the scars are just battle scars, in a sense... or at least, they're supposed to be."

His two friends grinned in the face of the deep scar in the earth, taking in the deep cracks in the strange rocky hill on the other end, and fought back the giddy nerves that threatened to consume them.

Markus raised an eyebrow and tilted his head to the side, facing Evan. "Battle scars? Is that why you stopped halfway up your neck? Didn't want to ruin your good looks?"

"I wanted to look like a good hunter, not someone who shouldn't be alive," Evan explained, trying to justify his decision. "And besides," he held up his bone ring. "I'm cursed, remember?"

Evan had used [Flesh smith] the night before to alter his body, refining the process and greatly strengthening himself. He had drastically altered his genetic code once more and transformed his body to become stronger, faster, and more resilient, with specialized muscles and structures capable of generating kinetic energy, dragon-scale fiber interlocking muscle, and the ability to breathe a young dragon's flame. His body now had a tough and scarred appearance, like a seasoned hunter, although the dark red scars stopped halfway up his neck.

He felt ready.

Evan, Lucia, and Markus stood before the entrance to the dungeon, their eyes fixated on the dark, imposing hole in the ground before them. "Are you sure you want to follow me in there?" Evan asked, his voice laced with uncertainty.

"Of course," Lucia replied, her tone confident and unwavering. "We're prepared. We're ready for this."

Markus nodded in agreement, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "It's now or never," he said.

Evan's stomach was a tightening knot of tension. He suspected they both were underestimating the danger. They would have to prioritise their safety over everything else.

As they approached the entrance, a gust of strong wind burst out from the crevice, buffeting their hair in all directions. The wind was strong enough to make Evan, who stood closest to the entrance, stumble back. Markus caught him, and Lucia reached out to steady him.

The wind was periodic, a forceful gust would burst out of the crack every few minutes, the winds causing the trees in the surrounding area to sway violently. Evan felt like he was standing amid a raging storm, his heart racing with fear and excitement.

The group stood in silence, contemplating the depths of the dungeon. The darkness was unnaturally black, as if it could swallow them whole.

The silence was deafening, punctuated only by the periodic gusts of wind from the entrance.

"This is it," Markus said, breaking the stillness. His voice was barely audible above the howling wind.

As Evan looked down into the darkness, he thought of the stories he had heard of the few survivors who fled the dungeon and the stories of the deaths of their teams.

Stories of unspeakable horrors that lurked within the depths of Adras's Breath, waiting to claim the lives of any foolish enough to enter. The stories had one thing in common; the instant deaths and screams of their party. The survivors often had not seen much and fled when they found themselves alone. Evan would have to use his enhanced senses and speed to catch any danger before it was too late, and decided he should lead the way.

That would be the key to making it back with their prize.

The three youths stepped closer to the dungeon, the darkness of its depths unnaturally black. Evan could feel the weight of the moment, the seriousness of what they were about to do. He took a breath and stepped forward, his foot hovering over the threshold of the dungeon. They had planned to use ropes to safely traverse the steep incline of strange dark rock that threatened to send them tumbling into the unknown depths below.

Evan took another step forward, his heart was pounding. He could feel the wind tugging at his clothes and hair, threatening to twist his footing and pull him into the darkness. He held his breath and steadied himself before stepping closer. His foot touched down on the uneven and sharp rocky ground within the dungeon, and the sound of six footsteps soon followed, echoing off the jagged walls as the darkness enveloped them in a thick billowing cloak.

The trio moved forward, the darkness pressing in on them from all sides. They could barely see their hands in front of their faces; the only light came from the occasional glowing moss on the walls. As they walked, they carefully navigated over the jagged rocks and steep inclines using their ropes to keep themselves steady. The dark rocks that jutted out around them were strange and foreboding, like the very essence of the dungeon was trying to keep them away. They paused as the howling winds buffeted them again in the darkness, clinging to their ropes and planting their feet. A fall here would result in broken bones or worse among the steep jagged incline. He could imagine many people being thrown by the winds and failing before they’d even set foot in the dungeon.

They pushed forward, deeper and deeper into the dungeon's steep depths; the darkness became thicker and more oppressive with every passing moment. Looking forward, peering into the abyss, Evan saw a faint white glow in the distance.

The wind picked up again, making it difficult for them to stand. They held onto each other, using their combined strength to stay upright.

As the wind died down, Evan took another step forward, his hand outstretched toward the distant light. He could feel the cool air coming from the dungeon, sending shivers down his spine.

“Let's do this," he said, his voice determined. "Follow my lead."

The rocky surroundings widened, and the ground began to even out with each step as the incline lessened, and Evan noticed a change in the environment. The jagged and steep rocks gave way to smooth, polished walls, and they continued until they finally found themselves in a large stone corridor with torches lit with faint pure white flames spread along the walls on either side of them. The temperature also seemed to have dropped, and Evan could feel his breath fogging in the air in front of him. The air carried the scent of decay, and strangely, freshwater. The winds continued to buffet them periodically, racing through the dungeon and causing their hair to ruffle and their equipment to sway. They walked on in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

Lucia looked around nervously, her eyes darting from side to side. "I don't like this," she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Markus scoffed. "What's there to be afraid of?" he said. "We've come this far already."

Evan nodded in agreement, too distracted by dancing shadows to muster a response.

Evan, Lucia, and Markus walked through the silent halls of the dungeon, their footsteps echoing through the empty corridors. The winds assaulted them periodically, the gusts racing through the dungeon and causing the flames to peter and stutter. In the tense atmosphere, the faint sound of crackling flames was the only thing that broke the silence.

As they proceeded through the large corridor, the ceiling rose with each step until they were among high ceilings and pillars. Evan noticed murals along the floor and ceiling.

Lucia's eyes darted nervously around the room as they walked, constantly scanning the moving shadows for any sign of danger. "This place is giving me the creeps," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly.

Markus nodded in agreement, his hand on the hilt of his sword. "There are too many shadows, and anything could be hiding behind those pillars. I have [Density Control], and Evan's muscles are armoured. Stay between us."

"Can you imagine the kind of power it would take to create a place like this?" Evan asked, his voice hushed with reverence.

Lucia shook her head, still looking around nervously. "They say dungeons are formed from a large release of mana. Usually, when a beast dies, their mana is released and absorbed by the earth or the people nearby, strengthening their mana reserves. That's why large battles usually create legends. A large release can sometimes form dungeons if the mana warps the earth. But it takes an insane amount. I can't even imagine what must've died to create this. I don't even want to think about it."

Evan was deep in thought, his eyes flicking from the murals to the shadows. "We need to keep moving, find an artifact or relic, and leave. The longer we stay here, the more vulnerable we are."

Markus stopped suddenly and raised his hand, signaling the others to be quiet. They listened intently, but all they could hear was the sound of flames petering.

"Did you hear that?" Markus whispered, his eyes darting around the dimly lit hallway.

"Hear what?" Lucia asked, looking around nervously.

"It sounded like a whisper," Markus replied, his voice barely above a breath.

Silence followed as the three of them strained to hear a sound. They pressed forward through the silence, the only sounds they made being the faint whispering of their hushed voices as they marvelled at the murals on the walls, floor, and ceiling.

The three continued walking, taking in every detail of the murals with their eyes. Evan stepped closer to a mural and studied the images closely. "Look at this," he said, pointing to a group of armoured men with blue flames beneath their armour. "They're fighting against all these other races, even ones that usually war with each other."

Lucia nodded and followed his gaze, whispering in awe. "It's strange to see them all fighting together like this," she said.

Evan squinted at the murals, attempting to identify the different depicted creatures. "I see Dwarves, Djinnii, Merfolk, Undead, and even goblins. And there are some strange races I don't recognize."

As they continued to examine the murals, the wind picked up, causing the flames on the torches to stutter and flicker. Suddenly, a gust of wind flew past, rustling their clothes and blowing out one of the torches, briefly plunging their section of the hallway into darkness. The torch then strangely burst back to light on its own, with its hypnotic white flame burning even brighter.

Markus jumped, startled, and Evan reached out and grabbed his arm. "It's okay," Evan reassured him. "We just need to keep moving."

Lucia pulled out a torch from her pack and lit it with a match, casting a warm glow on the murals. As they continued down the hallway, the murals depicted the metallic armoured army with blue flames fighting against even more powerful enemies, including dragons and giants.

"Look at that. Dragons," Lucia said, pointing to a mural depicting dragons and giants battling the army of flames. "How could they even stand a chance against those creatures?"

Markus furrowed his brow. "I don't know, but it's clear that they did; otherwise, why would they create these murals?"

Evan nodded in agreement. "Someone wanted to leave a record of what happened here. But why?"

As they continued to walk, they reached a dome in the corridor's ceiling. "Look at that," Markus said, pointing up to a mural in the center of the dome of a giant being with blue flaming eyes and long streaks of blue flaming hair, holding a sword in each hand. "That must be the leader of the army of flames." Another dome appeared above as they walked, showing the leader taking out dozens of living races with each swing of its hulking weapons.

Who was this giant being that could battle the endless races?

They stopped and stared upward, mesmerized by the strange sight.

Soul of Blades - Chapter 22: An Aura of War

Authors note: longer chapter than usual, almost 4k words!

Lyra, the group's leader, loved recounting stories of the battles and bloody conflicts she'd taken part in before and during her time with her team. Her animated gestures and passionate words would bring past or ancient wars to life. It was through her tales that Alex learned about the grandeur of his new world. She often spoke of the city Elderhallen, and its 'Violet Spires' reaching for the sky like a hand of giants under the sun. She recalled its grand halls, filled with scholars engrossed in magical tomes and relics. Of how its streets buzzed with goods from every corner of Pyra.

And most of all, she remembered her glory.

"The battle of Violet Pages, in Elderhallen. I was there, you know.” She reminisced to Alex, aiming to fill his ‘gaps in memory’. “The deep halls have always been said to hold heavily guarded tomes. Sacred things that grant great magic to whoever reads them- or take their souls should they be unable to bear the strain of the tomes’ blessing.” She seemed to visibly shudder at the thought before continuing. “A tyrant of greed, his men, and his God sought to sack the city and claim every tome and pound of gold within.” Lyra continued, her voice steady yet growing animated by the second. "It triggered a war. The largest I’ve ever experienced. A vast battlefield stretching across the horizon. Many forces met under a crimson sky. Thousands died to protect the enchanted parchments.”

That sounds like the crusades… men dying for profit, disguised as a religious crusade. Considering her words, Alex felt sick at the thought of thousands dying over something as meaningless as gold. Gold that would most likely only truly fill their leaders' pockets. In his opinion, his life was worth much more than some pretty metal rocks, no matter how they packaged it. “That sounds…” he began to speak his mind, but Lyra interrupted him.

“It was glorious.” She said, looking upwards as if glimpsing some distant memory of slaughter, dimples forming as a genuine smile painted her features.

Alex would’ve found her beautiful in that moment if it wasn’t for her clear psychopathy. Okay… so she’s totally nuts. But maybe that’s just normal for this world, like the Middle Ages. He mused. “Hundreds dead? Good, less mouths to feed!” Or something like that. He was starting to get an idea of the kind of world he’d found himself in, but he had to know for certain. “Do wars of that scale happen often then?” He asked curiously.

Lyra seemed to sulk, “In these lands, rarely. We’ve spent over a decade in peace, with only small skirmishes occurring here and there. The neighbouring lands are lucky to be locked in war with the endless enemy. But us, not so much. In these lands there are no real wars to speak of. The royals would not allow it, and they were too powerful to disobey.“ A look of rebellious frustration flashed across her features for the barest of moments, which she quickly schooled.

”The Endless Enemy?” Alex enquired, capitalising each word with his face a mask of curiosity. That sounds like a point of concern, he thought.

Lyra waved a hand in response as if completely disinterested in the topic. “A foe that attempts to conquer foreign lands, but not ours. Nothing for you to worry about. We have no threats of such magnitude. In these lands, the great wars ended with the spires' victory.” Her mood seemed to darken, before brightening up again. “But with this ‘system’ granting every man, woman, and babe a path to quick power, there will likely be many tyrants, many new foes, and many great wars to come!” She giggled and drew her sword, practicing a set form that seemed both alien and impressive to Alex.

So according to her. It's been mostly peaceful but the system’s wrecked it, setting everyone back to zero mana and zero power. He studied her practice swings, thinking her quite talented before returning to his thoughts. Now it's like the gold rush, she says. Except it’s the whole world rushing instead of just one country's state. Sounds like there’s bound to be some people racing to gain levels and become the new royals, instead of racing to gain gold and wealth like the rush back on earth. It painted a picture of a world of opportunity, violence, and inevitability.

So political instability with a touch of anarchy. Nice, just what I needed. Alex thought derisively.

Confusing his stern look for quiet anticipation, Lyra commented. “I’ve seen how you cherish your blade and still practice your swings despite losing everything.” She pointed towards the sword still in his grip and met his gaze in a misguided attempt at comforting him. “The war, perhaps you would’ve loved it.”

“Picture it,” she started, her hand whipping out and then pulling back swiftly before she spoke, as if mimicking arcane gestures, or hurling fireballs. “In the Great War, the Mages came first, they always did. From a distance, mind you. The opening volley.” Lyra reminisced excitedly. “You see, wars of aura, magic, and such are different from skirmishes with blades, and mages are generally considered the bane of the weak. It was the same in the tutorial realm, Mages kill tens of men from a distance. They’re like overpowered bowmen, drawing on their storm within, always unleashing their fury in war.”

Her eyes turned grim. “And back then magic roared through the battlefield." She said, with some skill from her ‘Stone Warden’ class causing the ground beneath them to tremble.

She slapped her hand on the ground, sending a small shudder of rippling earth through the gathered group. "Beasts, monstrous, colossal, joined the fray. Their impact shook the very earth we stood on. A presence that, even now, still scars the land."

“Then, once the beasts and mages had hammered the enemy's forces and caused enough disarray, the knights charged next, and we were a wall," she said. "Unyielding, undaunted." The campfire flickered in her eyes, casting shadows across her fierce countenance.

Her hands clashed together.

A resounding clap.

"Steel met steel. It was a concert of chaos."

Next, she swept her arms apart, painting invisible arcs in the air. The group watched, then- their attention rapt.

Her fist clenched, a raw power exuding from her simple action. “Enemy knights, steadfast, drove into our lines in retaliation, breaking our formations. A lone enemy knight- a master- broke through and scattered my men."

Her voice lowered.

She reached towards the fire, a sword hilt gripped tight in her hand.

"With a blade in hand, I charged."

Her hand mimicked a firm grip. "Opposite me stood the warrior, his stature imposing, a relic of our lost era. An Aura knight, like I was."

She paused at Alex’s confused expression as if suddenly remembering his amnesia. “Oh. Of course you don’t know what that is. You see, Aura was strength, drawn from the world's mana and made our own. It refers to two things; the first is the ability to absorb the mana of the world into your being, through meditation or more advanced techniques- absorbing and infusing your entire being with mana. The second and most important thing ‘Aura’ refers to is the ability to use your body's muscles, bones, and essence to consume your mana to momentarily gain strength. Through the body consuming mana to empower yourself you could gain the strength of tens, hundreds, or even thousands of men- depending on your mastery over technique, or the school of Aura followed.” She gestured in a wide sweep, addressing all of them. “Kier has touched on its similarities to the system, and I agree. Aura is like an advanced version of the system's stats, Alex. Except it’s limitless in its application and freely adjustable once mastered. Unfettered and unbound strength at a moment's notice. It’s truly superior. It could allow a single man to win wars, and my opponent, the knight, was renowned for having used Aura to do so before.”

“He was skilled, with more strength than I.”

She raised her arm slowly, demonstrating. "As our blades met, and sparks flew. Mana coursed through me, consumed by each muscle, seeping into my bones and vanishing, turning into my strength.” She continued, her voice steady. "My swings grew faster, stronger, my movements a blur, as the world's mana strengthened me with each breath.”

A pause, a moment. "As did his. His talent was unmatched, a master of aura, commanding the strength of legions of men in his small frame. He moved fast, and so did I. The world seemed to stand still as we fought, all else failing to match our movements. Arrows moved slowly like oxen before us, and fire fell with the speed of feathers. It was as if we fought while frozen in time, and the few that could match us were spread too far across the battlefield to intervene.”

“Tell him how it ends already!” Finn rudely interrupted, startling Alex as he suddenly appeared at his side as if sprouting from his shadow. I think that’s exactly what he did, Alex thought as he stared at the way his shadow fluctuated strangely before it settled to match his movements. He had felt a chill a moment before Finn appeared, as if someone had walked over his grave- that was probably the sensation of Finn travelling through his shadow, he realised.

Finn interjected once more and although Alex couldn’t see his face, he could practically hear the man grinning. “For the rest of us, the system is pretty great. I never learned magic a day in my life but now I’m practically a wizard! Heh.” As if to demonstrate, Finn vanished into the ground in a whirl of shadows, only to reappear in the flickering shade of a tree by their supplies before rummaging through them, pulling out a flask. His permanent grin stretched as he continued, “Let’s hear it then, tell him the ending.” He gestured to Alex, before handing him a flask filled with water. “I’m sure he’s curious, and it’s not like we haven’t heard this one a million times already.”

Lyra rolled her eyes at his provocation and swung her arm, a rapid, horizontal slice through the air. "Sure. In the end my blade met his shoulder, as it always did. It cut through his aura and I won. The strength of a thousand men, defeated." She said sternly and somewhat deflated as Finn grinned in schadenfreude with the satisfaction of ruining the story of his teammate's favourite battle.

“But you said he was stronger than you, better with Aura. How did you win?” Alex asked, leaning backwards. It wasn’t adding up. Without some kind of edge she should not have survived, let alone won a battle against someone that outclassed her.

Lyra smirked, but the motion did not reach her eyes. “The system has taken away our ability to channel Aura, as it has taken all else. You see, Aura has- had many applications. While others were fast with aura, so fast you would not see their blade, and most were simply strong, so strong you couldn’t fend their blows, my aura was always the sharpest. The best. It could sever anything and none could survive, it would cut through any blade or shield when channelled to its limits. It turned his strength against him as he threw himself against my blade. My aura could cut through it all.” She sighed as she sat down before the fire, digging her hands into the ground. “I miss it,” she murmured, so low Alex barely heard the words.

Aura… Alex considered everything she had just told him. A method to consume mana, allowing it to seep into your muscles and cells and be consumed to temporarily strengthen you far beyond your capabilities. That sounds a lot like ‘Mana Burn’ Alex’s eyes widened in surprise at the thought. Did the system give me a nerfed version of Aura? He considered the possibility. She said she could use it as much as she wished, and could even use the mana in the air as a resource. But I can only use Mana Burn for 30 seconds, and it takes all of my mana with a two hour cooldown, and only makes me twice as strong… damn. At least I have something to work towards, maybe I can improve the skill somehow, and break past the system's impulses. Perhaps if he had true and unfettered access to Aura as Lyra described it, he would have a chance at standing against the power of the imperials he saw in his Dao vision.

That would explain why they nerfed it. His eyes widened further, his jaw dropping in shock. Then nobody could hope to compete with them, at least not without a crazy amount of levels, way more than you could hope to achieve in a lifetime. And that’s assuming they haven’t capped level growth, hell, that’s what I would do.

The reality of multiple worlds situations was beginning to gain deeper clarity. But the revelation gave Alex some hope, and a new goal; he had to develop his skills and his class. He had to master them and gain Aura before the imperials arrived.

Feeling renewed and reinvigorated, Alex caught the forlorn droop of Lyra's shoulders, her eyes reflecting a deep sense of loss. Compelled to lift her spirits, he leaned closer, his voice tinged with optimism. "I'm sure there's a skill for it somewhere in the system. An 'Aura' skill that does everything you say and more, it's not gone forever." Lyra's eyes, upon hearing this, held a faint trace of hope.

She sat back, her tale finished, her energy expended. Around her, her group sat. Finn yawned and lay on his back while Ayla held some game over the campfire. Kier was some distance away in deep concentration as he tried to alter the functions of his skills. They soon began to set up camp for the night, with Fin directing Alex, showing him how they functioned as a group and set up tents, not that Alex needed instruction. But it turned out he did because he couldn’t concentrate- he was still enthralled by the concept of Aura, his breath held in the wake of her tale.

He would need to get her to teach him more about it, maybe he could use any lesson she could give on Aura to improve his ‘Mana Burn’, the skill seemed almost identical to it- if much weaker and only half of the equation. But if he learned more about what he suspected to be its origins, maybe someday he could make it whole.

***

Dawn broke the next morning, casting a warm light over the camp as they packed up. Alex trudged along with the group, squinting at the sun rising opposite to where he expected the town to be. "Are we not going back to town?" he inquired, a hint of confusion in his voice.

“Not yet. We’ve heard reports of a creature causing disappearances,” Lyra explained, her eyes scanning the surroundings. “Mostly criminals, but It usually doesn't take long for these things to start targeting hunters or civilians in the region. A beast of some kind, probably a forest bear. It shouldn’t be too difficult to deal with- The tutorial realm was unclear about the system’s effect on native wildlife, just that they have levels like us now, but no classes. And that they'll get stronger over time the longer they live. Some beasts were said to level quicker than others, let's hope whatever’s responsible for the disappearances isn't one of them.”

With a flex of his will, Alex accessed his Inventory skill.

The first time the skill had activated had been a surprise, it emerged before he’d even begun to utter the words. He supposed that’s why it was placed in the ‘Passives’ section of his status; the skill was always active. Alex had spent some time exploring the skills sensations and grown used to it, to a degree. With his latest activation, his consciousness drifted and connected with what felt like a tiny spatial realm, no bigger than a small room, or porta-potty: those small potable toilets he’d often see in public festivals on television. the space was small and cramped, and if he was physically standing inside it, he doubted he’d even be able to turn around. But it was taller than he was, by a head, and then some, and it could fit plenty of weapons, items, or even armour if there was any to be gained. It was a useful skill, invaluable even. He often explored the phantom sensation of its cramped space, the invisible boundaries of this pocket dimension pressing in around his senses. Aside from the sword he’d placed in there earlier, It was empty. But he didn't plan on it being empty for much longer.

Alex placed his last remaining healing potion in the pocket space and pulled his bronze sword from his inventory with a nudge of intent, the blade landing in his open palm. Gotta get better at that, he thought. He’d already spent some time in the forest practising changing weapons on a whim, trading his sword for sticks and other items mid-swing. He was getting better at it, but the skill he really wanted to develop was pulling his sword from the pocket space and slashing in an instant; marrying the magical skill with Battojutsu’s fundamental quick draw. If he mastered it, it would be the perfect surprise attack, capable of ending battles before they’d even begun. Back on earth, such a move was designed to defeat opponents potentially stronger, faster, or even more experienced than you- removing all the variables an extended battle could bring to ensure your victory as soon as possible.

It was deception, plain and simple.

But all true fighters knew that deception was the essence of combat. Alex had learned that from a very young age. Using feints, positioning, pretending to be injured or falsely stepping in one direction only to move in another, targeting areas to trick your opponents into lowering their guard, and even looking at an opponent's stomach before slashing at their face. Misdirection, creating vulnerabilities and controlling the distance. All of it was deception, and all of it was combat.

He didn’t always deceive while fighting, though. Back on earth, sometimes he just had fun and helped people to grow and improve their skills, or if the bout called for it, destroyed them without needing to exert himself. But when he truly needed to win, or when he found himself swept up in the focused states of combat; he used every tool in his arsenal.

Like when he faced the wolves in the dungeons jungle, and on the mountain in that chaotic race.

Only the inexperienced, or those who watched too many Hollywood movies thought of battles of life and death as some chivalrous endeavor. Fighting could be fun, sure. It could even be noble, depending on the cause or reason. But in a battle of life and death there was always only one winner. Nobility and mercy were something only afforded to the strong- Alex could often leave opponents intact and improved because he was occasionally much more skilled than them- back on Earth. But here in Pyra, he couldn’t afford to take that risk. Any battle would have to be faced without mercy. He would strike swiftly and unexpectedly, and capitalize on the advantage to overwhelm and overcome them without leaving them room to breathe. A tsunami of advantage.

Slash.

He swung his empty hand at speed as if drawing from an imaginary sheath, and a sword appeared grasped in his fingers in a blink of motion. His poise and motions felt right, this time. He was almost there. The move reminded him of an old quote his grandfather had tried to ‘teach’ him over a decade ago. “All warfare is based on deception.” He’d said. “When we are able to attack, we must seem unable; when using our forces, we must appear inactive; when we are near, we must make the enemy believe we are far away; and when far away, we must make them believe we are near.”

Alex had always known this, that combat was rooted in deception- a game of chess played at high speeds. But it turns out so had the person who originally spoke the words; Sun Tzu, who according to his grandfather was an ancient Chinese military strategist known for his insights into warfare and strategy. Great minds eh? Who knew? He chuckled to himself as he placed his sword back into his inventory.

Slash. He swung again, displaced air popping faintly as his blade materialised at inhuman speeds.

Lyra looked towards him at the sudden appearance of his sword, before immediately accepting its appearance, looking away and pressing forward. She was more used to magic- true magic- than Alex had ever been, and although the sight of a dimensional space was rare to her, it wasn't unheard of.

Alex stored and withdrew his sword a few more times, practicing as they walked. He kept his eyes peeled and strained his senses, ready for whatever they might encounter. He found the idea of facing a creature from this world was both intriguing and exhilarating.

Finn crouched, his eyes scanning the environment. He moved with a stealth that spoke of his keen awareness, his presence almost imperceptible among the trees.

"We're not alone," Finn whispered, his voice low.

Lyra nodded, her eyes focused. "Fan out, but stay within sight."

They moved with quiet coordination, each step measured. Alex felt his heart rate pick up, a sense of anticipation building.

The signs of the creature’s presence became more obvious. Branches were broken and the air carried a unique scent.

"We're close," Ayla voiced quietly. "Be ready."

Alex's hand tightened on his sword, a natural response to the impending danger.

Alex returned the nod, his focus narrowing on the task at hand.

Silence enveloped them as they approached the source of the disturbance. The forest around them was a mix of shadow and light, the tranquillity belying the danger that lurked.

A deep, resonant rumbling growl vibrated through the trees. The sound was raw, filled with primal power.

It repeated again, in consistent intervals.

Lyra raised her hand, signalling them to halt. The group stopped, their formation tight and ready.

As they edged closer, the underbrush gave way to a clearing. Sunlight filtered through the leaves, creating patterns on the forest floor.

“So that explains why most of the predators have fled the area.” Keir exhaled and glanced at Alex, a subtle nod acknowledging his presence. "It's a Griffon, they can be unpredictable at the best of times. Stay sharp."

Alex followed his gaze towards the massive creature resting at the base of a large Redwood tree.

In the clearing, the griffon rested, its vast form sprawled across the ground. Each rumbling breath it took stirred the dust and small leaves around it. Its feathers, a mix of gold and brown, gave it an almost regal appearance. But Alex didn't miss how metallic edges as sharp as blades lined the corners of its wings and flashed as the sunlight played off its feathers, revealing faint scars, broken barbs, and several broken feathers otherwise hidden beneath the shadows of its wings.

The area around the griffon was a jumble of bones and remnants of various creatures, large and small. There were traces of a battle; torn and crushed trees lay scattered, and the earth was scarred and gouged in sections as if the beast had battled something equally ferocious. Tangled among the surrounding bones were pieces of armour: a rusted helm, a shield split in two, the metal dulled and bent. Finn, with a cautious step, directed his gaze to a particularly large set of remains, partially concealed by a crater in the clearing. "Bear," he mouthed silently to Alex. Stepping closer, Alex noted the sheer size of the bones and flesh, piecing together their former shape – unmistakably a bear, but unlike any bear he'd ever seen before, now reduced to mere fragments after facing the griffon.

The group paused at the clearing's edge, every member poised for action. Watching, waiting for signs of aggression from the creature.

The griffon, oblivious to their approach, rolled to its side in deep slumber, its back exposed to the group as it basked in the light of the sun.

In that instant, the tension broke, and they stepped into the clearing.

Soul of Blades- Chapter 21: A Peculiar Party

Day turned into night and back into day again. Alex continued on his path undeterred. He slept in the forest, hunting small and occasionally large creatures, and some strange variations of boar, and elk. All the while wondering why he hadn't encountered anything significantly larger. Where were all the monsters? He wondered, a question often repeated. His status hadn't changed at all, the small creatures only giving him negligible gains. Alex enjoyed the serenity of the forest, coming from a big city, he had always relished the trips he'd taken with his family into nature. Camping was one of his favorite pastimes. And although he hadn't enjoyed it as much in the dungeons jungle, Staring into a breathtaking alien night sky filled with nebula in unseen colors had left him breathless. The air was always cool, carrying the scent of pine and earth, and its winds blended the subtle sounds of distant animals with the rustle of leaves. He loved it. But despite this, he still found himself itching for growth, and for a challenge, and anticipating his arrival to the settlement.

One afternoon, during his long trek to civilisation, the rustle of leaves broke the monotonous rhythm of his footsteps, and he stilled. From the forest emerged a group of individuals, decked in various armours and weapons. Their faces watched Alex with curiosity tinged with frustration and exhaustion.

They were human, or at least, appeared so. Alex should have been cautious, wary. But after a week of fighting and scavenging, he only felt relieved. And elated.

"Who're you, stranger?" The woman leading the group questioned, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword. She was tall and fierce, and well muscled, as if she could spring to action at a moment's notice. Her bright and piercing green eyes glaring at him with a challenging gaze.

"Alex," he answered, raising his hands in a non-threatening gesture. Or what he hoped was a non-threatening gesture. Now that he thought about it, with the system and all of the magical skills it brought into play, raising your hands could probably be interpreted as a threatening gesture.

He really hoped they wouldn’t try to kill him.

"I mean no harm." he called out, meeting her gaze.

"Alex," She began after a while, curiosity piquing her features. "What town, or city are you from?"

Alex felt a twinge of something at the question. Remorse? Longing? He couldn't say. This wasn't his world, and he had no idea how they would react to that information. He had to think of something, and fast. "I... I don't remember," he lied. He saw the surprise, then suspicion in their eyes. He hurriedly came up with an explanation, a half-truth. "I was hit by a memory wipe skill in a dungeon. I only just escaped alive."

"Dungeon?" The older man’s eyes sparkled with a mix of excitement and dread. "There are still dungeons? Thank the gods."

Alex nodded, rubbing his temples, relieved. "Yes, it was deep in the forest. It took me many days to get out. But the forest is pretty dense, and the path isn't clear. I'm afraid I can't find it again."

"Many... Days?..." The party shared a look amongst them, and an awkward silence briefly engulfed them. Then, one of them shrugged. "We'll find it, or another one. We'll manage." The larger man carrying a staff said, cracking his knuckles with a determined look in his eyes. "We always have."

Did I say something wrong? When did they leave the tutorial? If it was recent, it could explain why the forest has been so empty... Realising his mistake, Alex hastily added "The time spent recovering from the memory wipe is a bit of a haze, I was just attacking everything in sight until I recovered. Its... I think its how I survived." Alex hated having to lie like this, as they seemed like good people. But until he understood more about this world, he wouldn't risk information that could threaten his life.

The group eyed him warily but didn't attack. The woman exhaled and seemed to relax a little. "I'm Lyra," she said, breaking the tension, then gestured to the rest of the group. "This is Finn, Keir, and Ayla. We are... were, an adventuring party."

"Were?" Alex questioned.

Lyra sighed. "Ever since this new 'system' came into place, things have changed."

Keir, a tall man with grizzled hair, grunted in agreement. "I used to be known in this region as the Archmage of Waves. My command over mana and its influence on water was unparalleled. I could move oceans. But now, I am a level 26... what was it? Ah, yes, ‘Aquathaumaturge’. Hmph."

“Bah, that's not so bad, you're just being negative.” Finn, the youngest among them, joined the conversation with a dismissive wave. "But I will admit that it's not ideal. The wild magic most once had mastery over has been shackled by these... 'Skills.'"

"Indeed," Lyra said, giving Alex a tight smile. "Well, since you're also an unwilling participant in this system, you're welcome to join us. We can help each other. Teach you the ropes, so to speak."

The offer was kind, and Alex felt a wave of gratitude wash over him. He nodded, accepting the offer. "Thank you. I would appreciate that."

The group welcomed him, and together they made their way through the forest.

As they walked, Alex tilted his head slightly, trying to keep a casual tone in his voice as he queried a point that had been on his mind ever since he'd met the group. “So, about the tutorial. I can't remember much of it. Any of it, really. Have I lost anything important?”

At his question, Ayla, draped in leather armour embroidered with vines and flora, let out a light giggle. “Anything important, he says.” She slowed down, a lightness in her step as she moved to walk beside him and continued. “It was mostly rules. Lots of rules. And quests… Gods, I hated those quests.”

Keir snorted, “If I see another quest, it'll be too soon. There wasn't a single one where people didn't die. Although equipment rewards were fascinating, they were never worth the lives they cost. We lost too many for too little; hundreds died in our cluster for mere relics. E grade, and F grade, they called it.” He paused, an air of frustration taking over him. “Although, how the materials were made from nothing by the ‘system’ was fascinating, like perfect transmutation. But hardly the work of masters, and hardly worth lives. Perhaps the winners and top performers received better rewards, D ranked or even higher.” He slammed his staff into the earth and huffed, causing the ground around the point of impact to sink slightly.

Alex tilted his head slightly, the casual tone in his voice long forgotten, replaced with sheer curiosity. “D ranked equipment? How high does the ranking even go?”

Keir, running his fingers through his beard, looked thoughtful. His eyes, normally calm and contained, now sparkled with the excitement of sharing knowledge. "It's quite the system. These ranks, they're all about the density of mana and energies in the materials. It's fascinating, really."

He tapped his staff on the ground, and water spiraled around the wood briefly before settling. The staff glowed subtly, the air around it bursting with a fine mist.

Alex watched, his eyes widening slightly as he observed the phenomenon. The staff and even the very air around the mage lit up in Alex’s senses, a soft pulsing of energy trailing and surging through the air moments before it manifested into water. So that's what someone else magic feels like, that must be water mana he just used, and Outer focus allowed me to sense it before the skills effects manifested, Alex realised.

Keir, oblivious to Alex's internal musings, continued enthusiastically. "These grades, they start at F and go up. To S, and all the way to L- legendary, and M- mythical. They apply to everything here - skills, equipment, even the worlds themselves."

He gestured broadly with his staff, encompassing their surroundings.

A leaf, caught in a gentle breeze, fluttered by, drawing Alex's attention momentarily. "And this affects how strong or effective something is?" he questioned, his gaze returning to Keir.

Keir's eyes gleamed with the passion of a teacher. "Precisely. A twig from a high-ranked world could surpass metal from a much lower one. It's all about the underlying energies infused into the materials." He plucked a leaf from a nearby bush, holding it up. "This might look ordinary, but in a world of a much higher rank, even this could hold immense power."

As they advanced through the forest and searched for hours, Alex, keenly observant, listened intently to their explanations. They all sought to help him ‘recover what he had lost’. They seemed like good people, and were starting to grow on him. As they walked, Lyra spoke next, commenting on her experience with the systems tutorial realm. "It taught us that experience isn't just about fighting,for some classes, although we all had to battle in the end." she said, her voice low to avoid startling the wildlife. "Different classes gained from different activities. As a warrior, I thrive in battle, but for others, it could be crafting or exploration. They were said to receive bonuses to mastery, experience, and strength for allowing their actions to follow their path."

Alex, his hand on the hilt of his sword, nodded thoughtfully. “That’s quite different from what I’m used to. In the dungeon, it was mostly about fighting.”

“Yes, everyone had to fight constantly, regardless of their class or level. Daily. The tutorial was unforgiving. I imagine your cluster would've been the same, if you could remember it.”

Alex considered her words.

Their stories and insights into ‘the new system’ was illuminating. There were things he hadn't known about its effects on the world, things he hadn't considered. The group, despite their own struggles, were more versed in the workings of this system, their time spent in the 'tutorial' realm giving more clarity and safety than Alex’s hellish crash course in jungle warfare.

As they conversed, he continued to ask questions, discovering the party members' classes in the process before sharing his own, in a way. Ayla's class was "Wild Guardian," a class closely connected to the forces of nature, a specialized form of druid, Alex guessed. Finn revealed himself as an "Umbral Phantom," a class adept in manipulating shadows and darkness, infusing it into himself and objects. Lyra's class, "Stone Warden," specialized her already deadly sword skills with the ability to control earth and stone. And Keir, the "Aquathautmaturge," class made him adept at working miracles with all things water.

Alex had told them that he was a spellsword in response, deciding that admitting the true nature of his class would be an astoundingly terrible idea; not only did he not want to paint a target on his back in Pyra, he did not want to paint one for the Imperials either, at least not until he was strong enough to withstand anything they threw at him. He'd forgotten most of the Dao vision, but the images of destruction caused by the Imperial would be forever seared into his mind; he needed power like that of his own.

He briefly demonstrated his mana blade skill before deactivating it to solidify the lie. His Mana Blade had lit up with mana, blazing in his new vision more than anything he'd ever seen before, and yet strangely, he didn't find it blinding. He hated lying, but this was essentially life and death.

Lyra, Kier, Finn, and Ayla had been in the tutorial realm for over a week, and had not too long ago been returned back to their world en masse. In the tutorial realm, they had been tasked with quests to learn the intricacies of the system and test their skills and classes in 'safer' environments. Although from the stories they told, what constituted 'safe' to the system, was relative.

Ayla, who had been quietly observing, spoke. Her voice was like a soft melody, calming yet sad. "I believe the system is a shackle. I cannot commune with my great mother. My skill will not allow it.” She pointed towards the ground at what Alex presumed to be a representation of some earthen dirty, or Pyra’s version of Gaia as Ayla continued. “Our abilities, our magic,” she said, emotion seeping into her voice, “our mastery, and everything we worked for, it's all been reduced to numbers and levels. Most of them were completely removed.”

"And we're not the only ones," Lyra added. "It seems everyone from our world, every last one of us, was forced into that strange tutorial realm. To learn to grow powerful in this new system. I'm glad we are back home, my sword skills remain, but my mana is gone. We have been set back to day one. Like pups, or babies."

Keir, the grizzled mage, had initially struggled with the system. As an ex-Archmage the sophisticated, vast, and free-form magic he once commanded was now trapped in the rigid 'class' and 'level' structure. His magic, once as wild and untamed as the seas, now seemed tame, like a river flowing within its prescribed banks.

"But there's a unique challenge here," Keir mused one evening, as they all huddled around a campfire. He held up a small blue stone glowing with intricate runic patterns. It was a mana crystal, one of the few good things the system had introduced. "I have already successfully battled the system's impulses, and altered my skills. It takes constant focus, meditation, and countless failures. But you only need to succeed once. I can no longer sense pure mana, my skills forbid it. But  I can sense the mana in water, and water is everywhere. The magic hasn't disappeared, it's merely... changed. It's a riddle, one that I intend to solve.”

Lyra had her own trials. She had always been a warrior, relying on her brute strength, experience and battle-worn wisdom to best her opponents. But now, every 'Level' she climbed, every 'Feat' she gained, brought her new techniques, new tactics to master. She reminisced about the vast battles and skirmishes that took place before their world- one with thousands of years of mastery over wild mana, had been introduced to the system. Although she had to admit, the mock wars of the tutorial taught her more about strategy and leadership than she'd ever thought possible. A war where every single soldier had competent magic was... interesting. Still, there had been exceptions. Those powerhouses of the tutorial that had taken to the system like fish to water.

She wondered how they would fare against the old legends of this world.

Ayla, who had the quiet grace of the wilderness in her every movement, thanks to her new class. She had found herself becoming one with Pyra more and more each day. The tutorial realm had initially removed her unique bond with nature, the ability to read the beasts and the environment. It had been a connection so profound, it had made her part of the world of Pyra itself.

With her new class, she had begun to re-establish and attempt to regain her connection to the world.

"Every creature, every tree, they're all part of a larger tapestry," she explained one starlit night. "The system, these words. It’s only made me see it more clearly. I don't know how long it will take, but I will regain- No, I will surpass my old limits."

"It wasn't so bad," Finn said one evening, his voice low as he tinkered with a contraption he'd found on their path. "There was this trap so bloody complicated I thought I was done for. But when I managed to disarm it, I found out I’d gained a skill – 'Master of Mechanisms.' Seems like a fancy name for something I've always been good at, but it's made it easier. It's made everything easier.”

"These traps, they're child's play," he'd mutter, dismantling another poorly concealed snare. "Back in the tutorial realm, the traps were like puzzles - intricate, deadly puzzles. And I beat 'em all." His words were full of scorn, Finn wasn't the type to grin or cheer. He was more likely to scowl than anything, but there was a certain pride in his eyes when he spoke about his triumphs.

Keir kept to himself, mostly. Still, there were moments when the old mage would look up from his studies, a spark in his weary eyes. "This system, it's like a dam holding back a river. Like a block in my mind, hindering me everytime I try to tap into the mana all around us. A week ago, I could use the that flows around us to summon a storm from the moisture in the air.” He waved his hand in a grand gesture and looked hopeful, as if expecting something to happen. Nothing did. Keir sighed and continued. “The system has disconnected us from the mana of the world. Forcing us to use it as a proxy. It's restrictive, frustrating... but it also stores potential. I used to command the oceans, now I am limited to puddles. But even a puddle can hold a storm. It may have weakened us, but I suspect these ‘levels’ will make it easier to surpass our old limits. Maybe even rival the gods." he'd say, his hands gesturing as though he could almost touch the raw, unshaped magic. "There's something more, beyond the numbers and levels. I can feel it."

A slight crease formed between his brows as he studied a skill crystal in his hand "one cannot just mourn the loss of the old," he reflected. The crystal pulsated softly, its light was almost soothing. "We need to understand this system, comprehend its limits... and then perhaps, we can learn to break them."

The ex-archmage's words were not hollow. Alex saw how diligent he was in his efforts to decode the system's logic, often using his limited mana to experiment with various spells. Kiers curiosity had taken a hold of him, a spark in his eyes that refused to diminish. There was a sense of challenge in his voice, a keen determination to reclaim his control over the boundless, wild force of mana.

"It's the same energy," he continued, his gaze far-off and thoughtful. "It is still mana, but now it is bound by new rules. To regain our mastery, we must understand these rules, perhaps even bend them to our will. Break them. Rediscover the edges of magic and shatter our skills, limitations and influence.”

Such reflections were common among them. They wondered about the world they knew, how it had changed, and how those changes had affected others. Alex joined them in their musings as they pondered on how the old entities – beings who had been close to gods in their power and wisdom – were managing in the new system.

"Those beings... They could shape reality with a mere thought," Lyra murmured once, her eyes distant as they watched the moonlit landscape. "Did they too have to endure a tutorial realm? Are they also confined to these... 'levels' now?"

Her words hung like a weight around them, reflecting their collective anxieties and uncertainties. It was a world that was familiar, yet so foreign. A place where they belonged, and yet, felt utterly lost.

And the monsters, and mythical beasts of the world, were they still as powerful as before the tutorial? Or even worse… Had they been empowered by the system? While the rest of them were weakened?

Only time would tell.

Soul of Blades - Chapter 20: A Newer World

In the midst of swirling mana, Alex rematerialized on solid ground. The transition palpable as reality seemed to stretch and warp around him. It wasn't an abrupt apparition; rather, his form coalesced, piece by piece, like an image coming into focus. His feet made contact with the ground, a sensation both solid and fluid. The texture beneath him varied—a patch of cool grass, a scattering of pebbles, a soft bed of fallen leaves.

A rush of fresh, rich, mana-filled air entered his lungs, filling him with renewed energy. It was a jarring contrast, a striking shift from the dungeon he'd just escaped. The air felt vibrant and energising, each deep breath he took filled his lungs with a warmth that spread through his whole body. He paused, shaking off the disorientation, and took in his surroundings. For the first time, Alex laid eyes on the world of Pyra outside the confines of the dungeon. An astonishingly new landscape unfurled before him - vast, radiant, and filled with a vibrant life force that was almost overwhelming. Dense forests of towering trees swayed in the breeze, their leaves so distant it seemed the sky was covered in a green curtain. Beyond the forest he now found himself in, he saw glimpses of a snow-capped mountain range that ran along the horizon, standing endlessly still in the vibrant world.

Well, at least it's not another jungle. He sighed in relief as the cool mana-rich air swept past his skin. It tingled. He had been getting sick of the jungles humidity. Although he enjoyed the sun, probably more than most, the jungle had no warm rays to offer. Only heat and damp air. To Alex, it had felt like he'd just escaped a week in a sauna the size of Manhattan.

Stuck in a giant sauna, fighting monsters that made bears look like chihuahuas. Hiding and building traps against monsters and beasts that could've killed him more times he cared to remember.

Alex spun towards where he imagined the portal to the dungeon would be and raised a middle finger pointedly. He stared at the point where he imagined the dungeons portal to be in rage. He would've stabbed the thing if he could, but whatever force had brought him here and left him for dead without any aid was out of his reach- for now. His finger shook with pent up stress and aggression as he muttered the words “Fuck you.”

That ordeal was apparently one of many, inflicted upon worlds at the whims of the powerful. He should be grateful to be alive but instead he felt sick. How many would die on earth, if they had to go through that? Hell, how many would die on Pyra? He imagined his family, or his friends going through something like that and shuddered. The encounter with the Warbane had shifted his perspective. He had thought of this as a second chance, an opportunity to gain strength, and magic and to evolve. But the system had placed him into a dungeon of 8 levels, each presumed to be stronger than the last, each intended to be conquered by a team of people. If he had consistently chosen the easy quests and bided his time, he would've surely died. And all that was made to happen just so they could ‘serve’ some Imperial ‘masters’. It seemed wrong, somehow. Especially how the system had implanted and altered his thoughts whenever he gained a new skill, and limited his attempts at altering his skills or controlling his mana. When he used his skills, it was as if he there was another entity guiding and limiting him, and he had to wrestle back control from the system itself any time he wanted to use his skills as he wished. He had initially thought of the glitch and his new class as a mistake or misfortune, but his skill, ‘duel of corruption’ had taught him otherwise. It could be a boon.

The skill had removed the influence of the system for a short duration, about 5 seconds, Altering the stats of both him and his target. It barred access to skills and feats and reduced either his, or his opponents stats to match each others. It forced them to fight as equals, without the systems interference.

The skill wasn't perfect.

He instinctively felt that it wouldn't work on Someone with more than 50 levels on him. If he used it on someone closer to his level or lower, it would lower his stats to match theirs, and strip him of his buffs and skills. Sure he’d still have his sword and martial arts, but he’d loose a huge bulk of his advantages. And what if I’m surrounded? He thought, realising another weakness, the skill only targets one person, I’d be toast. Against a lone higher levelled opponent was where the skill truly shined. Against a higher levelled opponent with greater stats, the skill was a game changer and could secure his victory- if timed correctly to strip them of all of thier systems enhanced boons.

“Status,” he murmured.

[Name: Alex Ironwood

Level: 27

Race: Human - Rank F

Primary Class: ̷̷͎̠̠̖̳̮̿́̏̄͝͠Sys̵̞̈́͆̓̓te̸̪̟͇͕͂mic SwO̷̟̮̙͚̔rd So̶̼̲͋͐͋͂ͅve̶̷̵̴̲̳̱reign

Sub-class: Locked

Strength: 141 (97)

Dexterity: 204 (127)

Endurance: 61 (42)

Intelligence: 211 (146)

Wisdom: 43 (28)

Feats: First Encounter, Pioneer, Pinnacle IV, Survivor, Warrior, Champion

Active skills: Phoenix Leap, Mana Blade, Boundless Dodge, Duȅ̷̳̮̄͝͠l of C̷͎̠̠̖̿́orruption,

Passive skills: Inner Focus, Outer Focus, A̷̶̵̴̲̳̱l̸̢͉̗̣̑͐͛à̸̶̵̴̶̷̶̺̥̮̯͇̲̳̱̼̲͒̈́̈͛͋͐͋͂ͅͅ ̷̷̶̴̵̶̷̸̴̶̷̵̢̳̮̲̳̱͉̗̣̲̳̱̏̄̑͐͛͝͠Ω̴̵̶̷̲̳̱ ̶̶̯͇̼̲̈́̈͛͋͐͋͂ͅ ̷̷̶̴̵̶̷̴̶̷̵̳̮̲̳̱̲̳̱̏̄͝͠g̵̶̷̴̲̳̱e̸̪̟͇͕͂e̶̷̵̴̲̳̱E̵̴̶̷̶̵̴̶̷̷̸̸̢̲̳̱̼̲̲̳̱̟̮̙͚͉̗̣̺̥̮͋͐͋͂̔̑͐͛̀͒ͅͅ ̶̷̶̴̵̶̷̯͇̲̳̱̈́̈͛ ̷̸̴̶̷̵̳̮̪̟͇͕̲̳̱̏̄͂͝͠M̷̶̵̴̲̳̱m̸̵̴̶̷̸̷̸̴̶̷̵̢͉̗̣̲̳̱̪̟͇͕̟̮̙͚̺̥̮̲̳̱̑͐͛͂̔̀͒ͅ ̶̯͇̈́̈͛ ̷̸̶̢̳̮͉̗̣̼̲̏̄̑͐͛͋͐͋͂͝͠ͅO̷̟̮̙͚̔o̶̼̲͋͐͋͂ͅᾯ̴̵̶̷̵̴̶̷̷̸̸̸̢̲̳̱̲̳̱̟̮̙͚̪̟͇͕͉̗̣̺̥̮̑͐͛̀͒ ̶̯͇̈́̈͛ ̷̶͎̠̠̖̼̲̿́͋͐͋͂ͅ ̷̳̮̏̄͝͠ ̷̶̴̵̶̷̵̴̶̷̴̶̷̵̲̳̱̲̳̱̲̳̱ , Inventory,

Dao: True Immortality - 0.03% Progress

Unassigned stat points: 20]

He dumped all twenty free stat points into endurance- it was lagging far behind his other physical stats. He had been injured in almost every battle, sometimes gravely, with the only exceptions being when he used ambushes and traps. He was still healing from the numerous slashes, cuts, and stab from the battle with commander wolfbane. With only one healing potion left, and no idea how to get more, he needed that stat more than ever.

His updated stat sheet read as:

[Strength: 141 (97)

Dexterity: 204 (127)

Intelligence: 211 (146)

Endurance: 90 (62)

Wisdom: 43 (28)

Unassigned stat points: 0]

He sighed with concern as he assessed his stat growth. His wisdom stat was the lowest, and although it hadn’t caused any problems just yet, he still felt he needed to do something about it. He didn’t want to unknowingly limit himself by refusing to invest in the stat. But he just had no idea what it did, besides being ‘probably‘ related to magic. Better ask one of the locals what ‘Wisdom’s’ good for the first chance I get. He thought, eyeing the settlement in the distance.

Satisfied with his growth, Alex sat down on the forest floor, wincing as he aggravated the stab wound in his stomach, and reviewed the notifications he’d been forced to ignore during the dungeons final battle.

[Quest ‘Inducted Insurgent’ Completed]

[Rewards: Granted.]

[Skill: E rank skill ‘Outer Focus’ gained!]

[Skill: E rank skill ‘Inventory’ gained!]

[Gained Feat: "Dungeon Insurgent" 2% conditional increase to Endurance stat - Increased regeneration & resilience only when invading planes or facing invaders to planet designation ‘Pyra’]

An inventory… finally. He thought as he immediately attempted to tap into the skill. He didn't need to imagine what the skill did- he'd seen enough TV to know it was some kind of personal storage space. He willed the skill to activate and was met with a worrying notification.

[2 hour mana cooldown in effect. Skill unavailable]

Damn, Alex huffed in mild irritation. Forgot about that. Mana Burn’s cool-down. Last time I used the Mana Burn skill there wasn’t a cool-down problem though… That Dao vision must’ve lasted longer than it felt. If the experience had lasted for over a hour, meant while he experienced the vision he’d been in even more danger than he’d imagined, Unless the system had protected him somehow as it granted the reward.

And an ‘Outer Focus’ skill, huh? Sounds too much like ‘Inner Focus’. They're both passives, which means they’re working all of the time… and Focus implies concentration, but I don’t feel any different, any sharper or smarter. I wonder what they do? He supposed he would have to wait until the cool-down was over. Somehow, he could instinctively sense that he had just over 1 hour and 42 minutes left before he regained full access to his skills. That was a new sensation, he’d never been able to sense his inner workings like that before. There was a faint haze to the immediate world around him, spanning about 20 feet. It was as if everything within that range was more vibrant. Within a wide sphere around him, everything seemed slightly brighter than the rest of the world, slightly more colourful than it was supposed to be. Except for him, apparently. He looked at his arms, chest, and body with his new senses; he appeared and felt bare, empty, as if whatever vibrancy filled the immediate world around him did not exist inside of him. He felt monochrome, with the vibrancy clearly nowhere to be seen even on, or inside him. Is it because of the cool-down? He wondered, before coming to a sudden realisation.

It was Mana, he realised. He could see and feel mana, a little. Within a small sphere around him, he could faintly see and feel the fluctuations and flows of mana, and it was everywhere. It drifting in the air, pushing against his senses, flowing and seeping into the trees.

Weird, he thought, it’s like someone stuck a new pair of eyes in my head, with antennas. Alex looked around in amazement, and with new appreciation for a world he’d never truly seen before.

Everything just looked… better.

The towering trees, like distant cousins of redwoods seemed to hum with life to his new senses, and as he looked around with new eyes, far ahead, nestled in a distant valley, he spotted what looked like a collection of structures. A settlement of some sort, though it seemed far away.

The sight gave him a sliver of hope; he was not alone in this world. Maybe he could find some people- Human people, to talk to.

And maybe this time, they wouldn't try to kill him.

Determined, Alex began his journey towards the distant settlement, traversing through the lush forest.

Back to civilization.

Time-Smith - Chapter 19: Pressed for Time

As the magical doors to another city closed shut and faded into non-existence, the trio glanced around, marvelling at how quickly the market was returning to normal, as if that had not just happened.

The shift in the marketplace in the wealth district was a sensory overload, with all manner of sights, sounds, and smells vying for attention. Every corner seemed to hold something new and unexpected as the vendors, filled with [Purpose], brought out their best wares.

Rows of vendors hawked their inventory with pride, shouting out to potential customers in a cacophony of voices. Brightly colored tents lined the streets, their awnings covered in shimmering fabrics and silks that caught the light and cast multi-colored hues and patterns across the market. A vendor yelled towards Evan, pointing towards him and asking for a price on his magical ‘ring’ before Lucia stepped in to inform them it was cursed and unremovable. The cursed and blessed vendors looked at the trio with vague interest, before quickly losing interest and greeting new customers.

A group of wealthy shoppers pushed past Evan, their opulent garbs brushing against his simple clothing. They seemed oblivious to the crush of people around them, moving with an entitled ease through the crowds, they clearly expected people to part before them and acted like it was common sense to do so.

Evan, Markus, and Lucia made their way past stalls selling artificed works of magic and technology, marvelling at the intricate mechanisms that powered them. The air swathing with the scent of exotic potions and perfumes, and Evan began to feel the infectious freedom the market projected with every stall, He couldn't help it. He had realised that Items from different corners of the world must be here.

Evan found himself engulfed in a bustling marketplace as he weaved through the throngs of people. As he pushed deeper into the marketplace, he found himself face-to-face with a caged mythical beast. It was a creature of immense size, standing almost three times his height and adorned with a breathtaking array of colors and petals that matched the changing seasons, ranging from shades of green, auburn, yellow, white, and soft pink. Scales of wooden bark were placed meticulously throughout its giant form, in interlocking patterns across its stomach, arms, back, and modest chest, interspersed between the soft leaves that made up its skin. Evan took in all of this, then looked into the creature's breathtakingly beautiful female face, which seemed to be made of a collage of meticulously placed flowers that drank in the sunlight. Like the artful handiwork of a divine painter. Evan stared into its eyes, which seemed to be made up of constantly shifting roots and plants, and realised what stared back at him. It was a dryad.

The beast regarded the trio for a long moment, and Evan could feel the power radiating from its massive body. They all stood frozen, unsure of what to do, until a small imp darted past them and began to taunt the beast.

The imp was tiny, barely reaching Evan's shins, and was weighed down by a metallic collar around its neck, but it was still quick and agile, darting around the beast and peppering it with sharp insults in some alien language. He watched in amazement as the beast roared with rage, unable to catch the nimble imp darting around its cage.

As the scene unfolded before him, he felt both amusement at the imps antics and pity for the beast; something so majestic should not be brought so low, or taunted for it. Markus leaned forward, in a daze, almost reaching out to touch the creature, muttering something about feeling its pain.

"Lost, are we?" said a tall, lean man with piercing blue eyes. He wore a simple tunic and trousers, but there was a regal yet cold air about him that suggested power and influence.

"We're just looking," said Lucia, unsure of what else to say.

The man nodded, his eyes scanning the marketplace. "It's easy to get lost here. But be careful. Some would take advantage of you, given half a chance. If you have the coin, visit my store" The man pointed at a large stall and building, surrounded by exotic beasts "I'm sure you will find something that suits your [Purpose]."

He moved on, disappearing into the crowd, and headed back towards his bestiary, leaving Evan feeling both more lost and more aware of his surroundings than ever before. Lucia pointed towards the store they had come to the market to visit, and the trio quickly followed her lead.

Evan and Markus continued to follow Lucia through the marketplace towards the store, their eyes glancing in as many directions as their necks would allow. Every turn held a new sight for them to gaze at as they weaved through the throngs of people, this was Evan and Markus's first time visiting a wealth market. The contrast to the run-down streets where they had all grown up was more than apparent. Here, even the cobblestone streets seemed impossibly even, each stone slotted in place perfectly to form artistic patterns. To Evan, It seemed a little stupid, what kind of person needed the ground they walked on to be art they could tread all over, while people on the outskirts of the city struggled to survive? It was pointless.

"Why do people care about pretty cobblestone streets? It's not like they're going to stop a thief from stealing their money." He wondered out loud, his voice was dripping with irritation.

Markus studied the ground as they walked, before shrugging absentmindedly in response "Maybe they're trying to distract the thief with the pretty patterns."

Lucia huffed, distracted, barely paying attention to their conversation, and focused on the store "Maybe they just like pretty things, Evan."

Evan knew he was right, deep down. And was not perturbed by his friend's lack of interest. To him, there was something deeply wrong with the way this city was run.``Well, I prefer practicality over aesthetics any day" He seemed to be unfocused too, still taking in the sights of the market around him as they walked, and responded absentmindedly.

Lucia led the way through the marketplace, her long brown hair swaying with each step. Evan could tell she was nervous; her hands were shaking slightly as they approached the apothecary. He had no idea why, he knew she often ran errands for her father, and her high-quality clothing identified her as a resident of the district. The owner would be expecting her arrival.

The sound of haggling merchants and wealthy patrons became muted as they entered the store. Shelves upon shelves of glass bottles, vials, and jars lined the walls. Each container contained a unique potion, each with its magical effects detailed and labelled below. And as they walked into the apothecary, eager to retrieve the order for her father, they were immediately struck by a sea of aromas spreading from the head of the store, where the owner stood among vails and boxes, and what they assumed to be herbs and unknown ingredients.

As much as they tried to focus on the task at hand, the trio's attention was quickly drawn to the bodyguard standing at attention near the back of the shop. He was a hulking figure, towering heads over them all, the top of his head almost brushing the ceiling. An amalgamation of ripcord muscle, with thick, flexible, and scaled snake-like legs that seemed to almost combine into one powerful snake tail when he stood still. His serpentine hair, full of eyes, fangs, and snakeheads, was wrapped in a style resembling dreadlocks and moved with a life of its own, influenced by his thoughts and emotions. I wonder how high he can jump with those things? Evan thought as he curiously peered at the seams of the Medusi's snakeskin legs.

Markus gawked in the guard's direction “Whoa, what's with the lizardman over there? Is he real?”

Lucia leaned over and muttered back to the two with a chuckle “Oh, dear. That's Zara’s bodyguard, Axl, a Medusi. You better watch your words; he's not a lizard man, you know.”

The two almost stopped in their tracks upon hearing this and began to try very hard not to stare in the guard's direction. This meant they began to very obviously not look at him, which was even worse than staring. After all, how interesting could the ceiling, walls, or flooring in his general direction be?

Their curiosity towards the bodyguard was tempered by the knowledge that the Medusi, a race of skilled, and [Skilled] medusas, all bore snake-filled hair that could petrify those whom they wished to harm, but only if they sustained their gaze. And this one was no different, according to Lucia, this Medusi, Axl, was quite well known as an intelligent brute, principled and fair, with a reputation as an experienced combatant and bodyguard. Evan looked around the store, taking in the strange and exotic ingredients to distract himself from the gaze that could turn him to stone that stood in the corner of the room.

He had heard of the Medusi Clan, everyone had, they had played a prominent role in many wars throughout history and had been greatly strengthened for it; their skills were always stronger, and their forms were fit to match. But he would never have thought he would encounter one without having to leave the city. They were widely known for their expert strategy in wars and combat and almost suicidal battle hardiness. They were feared by many in the city.

As they approached the counter, the Medusi eyed the two boys behind Lucia warily but made no move to interfere.

The shopkeeper was a woman with a long, silver braid that fell to her waist. She wore a cloak that flowed around her, despite the lack of wind in the shop. The shopkeeper looked up from her work as Lucia approached the counter waving “Hi Zara”.

Zara looked up "Ah, Lucia my dear, you're just in time. Your father's batch is ready," she said, pausing briefly to regard Evans's eyes, his ring, and Markus entering the store, before immediately disregarding them and focusing back on Lucia.

The store clerk handed Lucia a small box filled with vials of the potion her father had ordered. "Tell your father I said hi, and not to take more than two within four hours of consuming a bottle, not unless he wants to try spending the rest of his life as a water elemental," she said dismissively, as she returned her focus to the pile of vials and materials around her.

"A water elemental?" Evan had to ask, what she’d just said didn't seem to make any sense.

Zara turned to regard him as she shooed them all away "You know, the kind of person who turns into a puddle when it rains. Not very practical."

As they turned to leave, the floorboards creaked and the ground shook ever so slightly as a large form stepped in front of their path.

Axl, the bodyguard, now stood in front of them, for some reason.

blocking their way out of the store.

He spoke for the first time since they entered. His voice was deep and resonant, with a hint of a hiss in his words. "Not so fast," he growled. "I have a message for your father."

Lucia tensed up, but Evan stepped forward. "What message?" he asked, trying to sound intimidating. He hoped it was working.

The bodyguard looked him up and down, his yellow eyes narrowing, and the snakes draped across his shoulders awakening from their slumber, to look at the new disturbance. Before turning to Lucia and smiling "Tell him that if he doesn't pay up soon, He'll owe me extra at our next game. Ever the sore loser, that Maximus. We play chess every other Thursday. He owes me five gold pieces."

"Five gold pieces? That's a lot of money!" Markus nearly yelled in surprised outrage.

Axl just glared, stonefaced, at the three of them "Well, I'm a very good chess player." He laughed a throaty hissing chuckle and walked back to lean against the wall, as the snakes in his hair struggled against their bindings in mirth "Travel safe little one."

"And be careful with that. It's potent stuff." The shopkeeper called.

They all made their own way to the door, no longer following Lucia. As they passed Axl, the bodyguard, Evan felt a sudden compulsion to look him in the eyes. His petrifying gaze wasn't active to affect him, of course, but he still felt a thrill at the danger, and a jolt of excitement hit him as he considered the idea that something like petrification was even biologically possible. That was a useful ability, but the only way Evan could see himself acquiring it was to kidnap a different, much weaker Medusi to experiment on. And Evan wasn't prepared to do something like that.

Was he?... No, definitely not.

He had to admit though, if he was Evil, he'd be able to get pretty powerful pretty quickly. Damned feelings, ruining everything He sulked internally.

Their task was complete, they said their farewells and made their way back to Lucia's father's estate with the precious order in hand.

She carried the order carefully like it was a fragile thing. Markus walked beside her, his steps confident and sure as Evan trailed behind, quiet and contemplative. Evan looked curiously towards the box of vials and potions in Lucia's arms and asked "The potions. What do they do?"

Lucia turned back to look briefly in his direction "Oh, you know, the usual. Turns you into a giant frog, healing, curse immunity, boosts your mana, and makes you invisible. All the fun stuff."

Why would her father want to become a frog? Evan wondered. The wealthy were truly strange.

Their footsteps echoed through the empty cobblestone streets as they walked, the cool, crisp night air flowing past them, helping them relax and wind down at the end of the eventful day.

"So, what do you think the point of this Census is?" Markus asked, breaking the silence. "I mean, it's not like they haven't done it before. What's the point of all this?"

"It's about finding unique, or useful skills, like [Divine Architecture], or [Arcane Amplification]," Lucia said, her voice firm. "The Magistrate wants to find people with the potential to enhance the city.”

Markus considered Lucia's statement “Maybe it's all about finding a ‘Protectorate’, sounds like some kind of [Hero]"

"I don't think that's all there is to it," Evan said, his tone thoughtful. Maybe they're just looking for skills to steal, or use, to evolve their own Evan thought. That made a lot more sense.

"It sounded like the Magistrate's knights will be watching over the city during the Census," Lucia said, responding to Markus. "That's a lot of protection."

Evan shook his head. "I don't trust the Magistrate. Did you feel it? The surge of mana when he announced the Census? It felt like mind control to me."

"I don't know about that,” Markus turned, his voice doubtful. “He didn’t seem so bad"

Evan raised both brows towards Markus in surprise, before stepping closer. "That's what it felt like, anyway... There's something else I wanted to tell you. In the past, when I was with Lady Sariel, I saw ruins, and dungeons, a lot of them.”

Evan paused, placing his hands on both of their shoulders to get them to focus on the importance of his next statement.

“And artifacts. All of their locations. I can only remember a few, but, I saw things that could help when Gideon finds us. He said he would see me soon. I don't know how ‘soon’ that is, whether it's next week, next month,”

Evans grip tightened “Or tomorrow”.

“I need to go find them, and I can't leave it up to chance." I can't let something like that happen for real He thought.

Lucia gasped. "Gideon? The one who killed you before?"

Evan nodded. "Yeah, Him. He's already killed me once, effortlessly. And while I was way more powerful, too. How soon is ‘soon’? Honestly, I need to be ready for when he comes”

Lucia and Markus exchanged a look. "We're with you," Lucia said. "We’ve got your back. I mean, he’s just one guy."

"Are you sure?" Evan asked, looking at them both in turn. "It's dangerous. I don't want to put you in harm's way."

"We're sure," Markus said.

Evan smiled, relieved. "Okay. We'll meet here tomorrow morning, and then head to Godfell."

"Godfell?" Lucia repeated, her tone incredulous. "You mean Adras's Breath? That's one of the most dangerous dungeons in the area. It's a death trap."

"That's why we need to be careful," Evan said, his tone serious. "It’s the closest one”

"Careful? Evan, we're talking about Adras's Breath. We need to be more than just careful. We need a miracle." Markus responded, his tone light, but equally serious.

"Yeah, Evan. Do you have a miracle up your sleeve?" Lucia added.

Evan grinned. “Something like that”

They walked in silence for a few moments, each lost in their thoughts. Finally, Lucia spoke up.

Lucia laughed nervously as she turned to stand in front of them both "So, we're just going to walk into an uncharted dungeon, with no idea what's down there, and hope for the best?"

Evan nodded, stopping in his tracks. "Not exactly. But close."

Markus let out a low whistle. "So, we're basically going on a treasure hunt," he said, a grin on his face as he stared ahead at the evening sky.

"Well, it's better than going on a death wish," Lucia retorted, earning a chuckle from Markus in response. "We'll come back with riches beyond our wildest dreams. Just watch, we'll be swimming in gold coins!"

"I don't think we should underestimate the danger," Evan said "But yes, there's a chance we could find something valuable down there."

Markus raised an eyebrow. "Evan, man. You're always so serious. Lighten up a bit."

Evan glared at Markus pointedly. "I'd rather be serious and alive than carefree and dead."

Markus flashed a grin, seemingly undeterred. "Come on, Evan. Where's your sense of adventure? This is the stuff of legends!" Evan was unmoved "Legends often end in tragedy." He responded.

Lucia interjected, her voice soothing. "Well, not for us. We're the dream team, remember?"

"Exactly. We're like bread and butter. Or...I don't know, what's something that goes well together?" Markus said, his tone light. He placed his hands behind his head in relaxation and walked forwards, his two friends soon followed.

"Bread and butter?" Lucia wrinkled her nose. "I still think we should go with peanut butter and jelly."

Evan let out a small chuckle, the tension in his body slowly dissipating. "Can we focus on the dungeon now, please?"

Markus shrugged, his grin returning. "Fine, fine. But we can't forget to pack the bread and butter."

"I can't believe I'm going on this journey with you two." Evan facepalmed.

As they walked, the environment around them changed. The towering buildings and paved streets gave way to more shabby buildings, cracked pavements, and dust-filled streets. The sounds of the slums could be heard in the distance, the trees rustled in the wind, and the trio's steps crunched on the fallen leaves and debris.

Evan's thoughts drifted to his family and the dangers they would face if he failed to retrieve the artifacts. Markus and Lucia's conversation faded into the background as Evan tried to come up with a plan to tackle the dungeon. As soon as he got home, he would completely alter his body and cells once more, or for the first time, technically.

As they continued walking, their surroundings changed even further. The symmetrical and artistic streets with their bright lights and high towers gradually became shabbier buildings and alleys that smelled faintly of food and sewage. The trio passed a group of children dirty from playing a game of tag, their laughter echoing off the crumbling walls, unaware they were living some of their best moments.

Lucia watched the children play with soft eyes, but Evan noticed how she wrinkled her nose and pulled her cloak tighter around her, she must have grown too used to the central districts, he observed. Evan remained quiet, his thoughts returning to the dungeon and what treasure, or relics lay inside.

Lucia's voice pulled him back to the present. "So, what's the plan?" she asked, her tone light but serious.

Evan smiled. "We'll meet here tomorrow morning," he said. "And then, we'll head to the dungeon together."

Markus and Lucia nodded, and the trio continued their way home, each looking forward to the next day's journey. He hoped they would find what they were looking for and make it back alive.

***

The next day, the three of them stood ready, before the dungeon. prepared to discover what lay inside.

Markus looked at Evan and Lucia before he spoke. "So, are we planning on just walking into the dungeon and taking any artifacts we find like it's a walk in the park?"

Lucia nodded in agreement. "Yeah, do you even know how to fight off the monsters in there?" she said, adjusting her grip on her weapon.

Evan stared into the deep dungeon depths in contemplation. "Well, I have some tricks up my sleeve, but I'd rather not rely on them too much," he replied.

As they approached the entrance, Evan drew his weapon, and the others followed suit. They exchanged a nervous glance before stepping inside. The darkness and winds engulfed them, and they could hear nothing but the sound of their own breathing.

The adventure had begun.

Marcus joined Evan in staring into the depths, the darkness was almost cloying. "You know what they say, no plan survives contact with the enemy. So, what's your plan B?"

Evan rubbed his chin, "Plan B? I'm afraid I don't have one,"

Soul of Blades - Chapter 19: An Incursion of Mortals

A wave of dread washed over Alex, but he swallowed it down, eyes locked on the giant beast in front of him. His strength and stats were not enough, the old beast before him- now even stronger than before- had proven that. He had barely seen most of its blows, only relying on 'boundless dodge' to survive. He needed to use all of the tools available, all of his skills, and Skills, to secure victory. He needed to level the playing field. He focused, settling deeper into his stance. He was in the eye of the storm, and he had to move with the lightning. He eyed the electric bolts racing across the beasts arms. They were concerning.

But he still had an ace in the hole, skills he hadn’t used yet. And one of them would double his stats.

His voice swept across the clearing, resounding with determination. His hand tightened around his sword’s hilt as he muttered the words “Mana burn”.

[Mana burn (Duration: 30 sec): slowly Burns through the casters entire mana pool to double stats for a short period. A portion of your mana will be allocated to skill use during the time limit]

In response, the wolf’s lips curled into a vicious grin, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth. It roared, a sound that seemed to shake the very ground beneath them, and charged, blurring towards him as a crack appeared where it once stood.

Alex prepared himself, steeling his nerves and attempting to channel his Dao into his blade. He activated Boundless Dodge as the beast descended upon him, its clawed hand whistling through the air. His blade came up to meet the attack, steel clashing against monstrous claws. The impact sent a shockwave rippling through the clearing, kicking up clouds of dust.

Blood poured down his arms and out of his mouth. Every nerve in his body screamed at him to run, to flee from this impossible enemy. But he couldn't - wouldn't. This was his fight. His Dao.

He would change, become impermanent. Ending and unending, and his blade would be the catalyst.

His grip on his sword tightened, his knuckles turning white. He activated Phoenix Leap, launching himself towards the beast. His blade sang true in his hands, slicing through the air towards the monstrous wolf.

The beast roared again, swinging its claw down in an attempt to crush him. Alex activated Boundless Dodge, and his body twisted unnaturally to evade the blow.

“Mawashi-Giri." Spinning slash he whispered, his voice unheard in the winds of combat.

He retaliated with a swift spinning cut towards the beast’s flank. His blade bit into the wolf’s hide, drawing a spurt of dark blood. In that moment, his body moved on its own, years of Kendo training seizing his muscles and guiding his actions.

The wolf howled in fury, an explosion of lightning engulfing its form, racing off it in arcs. The explosion knocked Alex backwards, sending him flying. Alex crashed into the empty ground in pain as streaks of burn scars arced throughout his body. Warbane the wolf, sped towards Alex in a burst of electric rage, its speed enhanced by the bolts, and retaliated with a swipe of its clawed hand. Alex rolled to his feet and dodged, shifting his body aside with the help of a Boundless Dodge. Another activation of the skill allowed him to dodge the errant bolts leaping off the wolfmans passing form. Alex retaliated with another slash, this one aimed at the beast’s arm. Again, his blade cut into the beast’s flesh, drawing more dark blood.

But the wolf didn’t seem to feel the pain. Instead, its fury grew, its eyes burning bright with a dangerous, predatory intensity. It roared and lunged again, its massive claws whistling through the air towards Alex. But Alex was already moving. He activated Phoenix Leap, shooting into the air above the beast.

He watched as the beast swiped at the empty air beneath him. Another Phoenix Leap. Alex brought down his sword in a powerful arc, aiming for the beast’s head. His blade cut through the air, closing in on its target.

But the beast was still fast. Faster than he’d anticipated. It raised a clawed hand, intercepting the blow. The impact reverberated through Alex’s arms, almost making him lose his grip on his sword. But he held on, gritting his teeth against the shock.

He dropped back to the ground, landing hard on the stone beneath. He studied the wolfman, Warbane, as his chest heaved, and a sheen of sweat coated his brow. The beast was right in front of Alex, a giant mass of grey fur and muscle. He could smell the beast’s rancid breath, could see the fury burning in its eyes.

And he was running out of time. Ten seconds. He had ten seconds left, and then he would be out of mana, out of skills, and out of strength. Reduced to his base stats and nothing else. He could do this. He had to do this.

“Not yet,” he pleaded in vain, whispering. His hand tightened around his sword’s hilt. “Not until I’ve won.”

A flame sparked within his eyes. The wisdom of his Dao flooded his senses. The world slowed around him, its ebb and flow clear as day. The wolf’s snarl, the streak of dark blood, the crackling arcs of lightning—everything seemed strangely detached, yet vivid.

Like a flame that flared in the wind, the wolf lunged.

Alex moved.

With a roar, this time coming from Alex's mouth, he leapt at the beast again, his sword raised high. His blade slashed through the air, descending towards the beast in a powerful arc. The beast raised its clawed hand, ready to meet his attack.

But Alex was faster.

Boundless Dodge, he thought. A force of mana seized him and shifted his body, instantly positioning his feet and sliding him unnaturally to the side. The world flashed by in a blurry whirl of grey and black. He saw the sharp teeth of the wolf, the twisted fury in its eyes as it flew past him. He breathed in, his breath mirroring the silent pulse of the world.

Phoenix Leap. His body shot forward like a bullet, and his blade flashed, cutting through the air with a whistle. His blade bit into the beast’s arm, and into its flank. Slicing through flesh and bone.

The wolf retaliated, but Alex was ready once more. Boundless Dodge.

Moving him just out of reach of the beast's grasp.

As the beast swiped, lightning burst and sprayed in all directions, erupting from its body and open mouth. It had used it's Trump card, and thick bolts shot forward, scorching the air, razing the ground beneath them and everything in-between- threatening to engulf Alex and end him. The wolf grinned in victory, assured that its bolts would consume and fry his opponent alive. In response, Alex called upon his final skill.

Duel of Corruption.

A strange field of influence erupted from Alex, engulfing the two combatants. Alex felt his body become sluggish and heavy, as if his connection to something greater had entirely vanished. As if his connection to the system and all of its magic had been completely erased. Acting on instinct, he called for his status.

Nothing happened.

[Inductee ‘Alex’ has afflicted you with the debuff ‘Duel of Corruption’ -  ̶̯͇̈́̈͛Error - System disengaging. disconnect immanent.]

The wolf commander's eyes widened as its movements stumbled and faltered, becoming sluggish. The lightning that had been moments away from securing its victory fizzled and faded to nothing in an instant.

They had both been severed from the system, all access to skills, feats, and boosts erased by Alex's twisted skill. Their stats had been forcibly aligned, altered by some greater power and made to match each-others perfectly, becoming even. Strength meant nothing, magic meant nothing, and the system meant nothing. Only technique remained. For a moment, they had been forced into a corrupted duel of equals.

At that instant, Alex acted.

His sword sang as he swung it in a swift arc, the blade a flash of instant movement.

There was a moment of silence.

And then his blade bit into flesh.

The beast roared in agony. Alex was relentless, his sword continuing its journey, cleaving through bone and hide. Blood sprayed in a waterfall, dark and thick, staining the pale earth below.

The wolfman fell.

Its enormous body hit the ground with a thunderous thud, shaking the very earth beneath them. Blood pooled around it, seeping into the rock, painting the ground a dark, foreboding crimson, a stain in the sea of white.

It lay there, its breath rattled, ragged and laboured.

The world returned to its normal pace. Alex landed lightly, his sword dropping from his hands, and the world spinning around him. He had timed it perfectly. Throughout the fight, he had felt an inkling of the skills capabilities- that it would render both himself and his target powerless in some way. As a result, he had been biding his time, waiting for the perfect moment. It had been close. Too close, in fact. He hadn't expected the lighting to be so powerful. If he'd activated the skill even a second later it would've been him that lay defeated on the ground. He hacked blood and stumbled, attempting to use his sword to regain balance. His breathing was raw, ragged, and his body trembling. He gave in, and fell to his knees in exhaustion.

The battle was over. He’d won. His body sagged as he knelt, exhaustion finally creeping in as the adrenaline faded. He sat there, staring at the fallen wolf, the reality and cost of his victory slowly sinking in.

As the wolfman, Warbane, drew his final breaths, his eyes met Alex's. The fury had left his gaze, replaced with an eerie calm. "Very… Impressive… little one.” A smirk played upon his lips, a final act of defiance. His voice was a mere whisper, each word strained.

“But not enough.”

A spark of life flickered in the beast's eyes before it stilled, the light dimming until there was nothing but a cold, lifeless stare.

Alex stared at the fallen beast, as through his Dao, he watched and sensed its passing.

He felt something depart from the wolf; its soul, or life force. It left its body, and vanished beyond his senses, to begin a new journey.

The cold reality of mortality washed over him.

In the face of death, they were all the same - beasts and men.

All impermanent. All transient.

All mortal.

[You have defeated level 62 Apex Canid commander - additional experience points due to the level difference]

His skills sphere of corruptive influence receded, and notifications flashed before him.

[Level 27 > Level 32]

[Strength +20, Dexterity+20, intelligence+30, unassigned stats +20]

[Remaining inhabitants will be returned to their designated worlds.]

[Prepare for Dungeon Exit and closure. You will be teleported out shortly]

Alex was teleported outside of the dungeon as it collapsed, and into the mana-filled world of Pyra, for the first time.

Soul of Blades - Chapter 18: Overpowered

In a flash, the wolf commander launched himself at Alex with explosive speed, his movements a blur of fur and fangs as a plume of white dust sprayed across the empty expanse.

A streak of grey and white instantly descended upon him, faster than his eyes could follow. Alex barely even saw him move before a blade was racing towards his neck.

Alex was less than a breath away from being decapitated, frozen in time, only just realising what had happened, his eyes only just noticing the blade.

His body couldn't move in time, and his mind barely kept up. Even with his enhanced stats, it was too fast.

He was going to die.

But then he remembered his new skill,

Boundless Dodge.

With the activation of his skill, his torso shifted at impossible speeds of its own volition, twisting and arching back. In one second, he was about to have his neck sliced in two, and in the next, he found himself arched back unnaturally, staring at the old wolf commander who had landed some distance behind him.

Shocked, Alex warily turned to face his opponent, watching for any sudden movement, his latest skill on the tip of his tongue.

The wolf stood before Alex, towering. Gray streaks of age adorned his fur, like a lion's mane, and the long cane in its hand had transformed to become a thick spear, humming with energy.

With a roar, the old wolf lunged again, an explosion of white dust the only indication of its movement. Alex froze as in the blink of an eye, the wolf crossed the distance, a mess of fur and metal inches from impaling his stomach.

Alex's instincts screamed to dodge, and his body obliged, moving slowly, too slowly to dodge in time, as if moving through molasses, as if submerged underwater. The old wolf was just impossibly fast. Alex couldn't hope to keep up.

Boundless Dodge, he thought.

A force of mana seized him and shifted his body, instantly positioning his feet and sliding him unnaturally to the side. The wolf's spear tip missed him by mere centimetres as he felt the gust of wind from the missed attack. He attempted to retaliate from his awkward angle, his sword blurring towards the wolf commander.

Phoenix Leap. He thought as he triggered his other skill.

Alex was propelled towards the commander in a blast of motion, his sword mid-swing. The commander shifted lightning-fast, his movements still a blur. Alex panicked at the speed and preemptively activated Boundless Dodge, feeling a force launch him over the wolf insanely fast. His body temporarily moved just as fast as the old wolf. A Phoenix Leap sent him crashing back down towards his opponent from the air, his sword held ready, raised high above his head to deal a devastating blow.

From above, he fell upon the monstrously large wolfman, his gaze unwavering, focused on the precise target.

He tapped into his Dao, the unending state of impermanence and change, and channelled it into his sword, activating his skills once again.

Mana Blade. Phoenix Leap. Boundless Dodge.

And as he fell, engulfed in mana, he utilised a kendo technique, one his grandfather had ingrained into him many times.

Menuchi... Mask Strike.

Alex brought his sword down in a powerful arc, moving at a speed he could barely control. His sword aimed for the wolfman's head. The blade, guided by his focused intent, sliced through the air with precision.

Descending downwards like a thunderbolt, the blade came crashing down on the wolf commander. The impact resonated through the air, a resounding clash of metal, magic, and impermanence.

In that single moment of impact, a large crack tore through the ground, as if the dungeon itself shuddered beneath the weight of his clash. The once-clear white surface split open, revealing a hidden layer of weathered stone beneath. The area surrounding the point of impact now appeared withered and aged, as if the stone had been a part of this land for centuries, rather than a mere week.

But Alex felt no other impact through his blade, no torn flesh, bone, or fur. No wolfman.

He had struck nothing but air.

The commander was already out of range, watching Alex some distance away while leaning on his staff. The old wolf, 'Warbane', studied the crack in the ground and cocked his head towards Alex. "You fight like an imperial. A crippled, impossibly weak one. Amusing."

Alex's brow furrowed, his fingers tightening around his hilt at the new information. "An... Imperial?"

The wolf chuckled. "Innocence. How charming. Yet, ignorance and charm won't save your race. They are masters of the system, masters of the realms. As are we. And your realm; your planet, is next."

This wasn't technically his planet, but Alex felt no need to correct him.

The wolfman gestured towards the sky, his tone growing darker. "Once they arrive, resistance will only lead to suffering. Surrender is the wise path. Minimise casualties, submit, and accept your place in the new order."

He wanted to keep the old wolf talking and gain some insight into why all of this was happening, as it seemed to have a penchant for gloating. Why do people even gloat, anyway? its pretty dumb telling your enemies all of your plans, Alex thought between breaths. He wanted to view the old wolfman as a dumb beast, something he could outwit and beat by playing it smart, and gaining information. But he had to admit, its overconfidence was getting to him. Alex couldn't resist revealing his feelings on the matter. "We'll see," he said.

"You think you can stand against the might of the Canids? Of the imperials?" the wolf commander snarled, his eyes narrowing and filled with an air of superiority. "Foolish."

To Alex, It was a taunt, a dare.

Alex's response was swift and filled with conviction. "I've faced stronger foes.” As he spoke, he settled once more into his stance. “I'll be the one standing when this battle ends."

The commander bristled at this. With a roar, the wolf lunged at him, staff swinging, a spear tip having somehow appearing at its end. Alex raised his blade in defense, the metallic ring of their weapons clashing echoing through the air. The force of the impact sent him stumbling back, his boots sliding across the rocky ground as he regained his footing. His stats should have been boosted close to the hundreds by now. Just how strong was this old wolf?

Skills it is then. Phoenix Leap. Boundless Dodge. Phoenix Leap. he thought.

Alex shot forward and struck at the wolf, instantly shifted out of the way of its counter attack, and launched towards it again with his blade. He was getting used to this new skill.

The old wolf cocked his brow as he leapt out of harm's way.

"Impressive," the wolf growled, his eyes gleaming with savage delight. "But you're still only human. It seems you can only evade as fast as me, but not much else."

Alex didn't respond, his eyes focused on the wolf before him. He swung his blade, their weapons clashing once again. Every strike, every parry, pushed him further, forcing him to reach deeper into his reservoir of strength. His bones shook with every impact, and he stumbled with every clash. The wolf was faster than him, much faster. And stronger than him too. He would have to rely on his technique, skills, and Dao to win this.

The battle raged on, the old wolf's strength never wavering. But with each strike, Alex grew more determined, his resolve solidifying like steel in a forge. He wouldn't give up. He couldn't.

The old wolf's laughter echoed around him, but Alex didn't let it distract him. He was a warrior, and he would fight to the end, to victory. Phoenix Leap. His blade flashed, cutting through the air with a whistle.

The wolf parried his attack, but Alex was ready. Boundless Dodge. He shifted his stance, throwing his weight into a counter-attack. His blade met the wolf's spear, the impact sending a shockwave rippling through the clearing.

Alex had realised during the fight how the 'Boundless Dodge' skill truly worked. Once the skill was activated, there was a period of around 2 seconds where any single attack sent at him would be forcefully dodged, his mana seizing his body and shifting it in ways he would never be able to otherwise, even with his stats. He soon realised that if he thought of a general direction or way he wanted to dodge, the skill would instinctively oblige.

He could hardly see the wolf move, so instead, he anticipated the wolf commander's every action, presenting it with fake openings, traps, faints, and misdirection. Aided by his Dao, Alex seamlessly transitioned between offence and defence continuously, his life at the blades edge. Boundless Dodge he thought. With a swift sidestep, he evaded a devastating blow that would have shattered bone. Phoenix Leap. In a fluid motion, he countered with a lightning-fast thrust, his speed boosted by the explosive leap at close range, aiming straight for the wolf commander's chest.

The wolf commander twisted his body at the last moment, narrowly avoiding the strike. His eyes widened with a mix of surprise and admiration. "Once again, impressive," he growled, his voice filled with grudging respect. "But you're not the only one with tricks up their sleeve."

As if on cue, the other wolfmen rose from their circle, their eyes blazing with a multicoloured glow. In unison, they chanted incantations, their voices rising and falling in an strange melody. The ground beneath them trembled, and tendrils of dark energy snaked their way towards the wolf commander, encasing him in a swirling vortex of power.

The wolf commander’s form distorted and grew, his body expanding into a towering beast. Muscles sprouted from every inch of his skin, his hands morphing into massive claws, each finger sporting a long bladed claw half the size of Alex’s sword. He had transformed into another form—a more formidable and imposing werewolf, his power multiplied, and his size scaled even further. On all fours, he was big as a large car, or a van. He discarded his spear as lightning began to spark across his claws and arms, and he spoke once more, his voice now deeper and booming.

He sighed.

"Human. In the new order, and in the new worlds, you should fear the very old and the very young. For neither can survive long without great power."

The wolf then raised its hackles and prepared to lunge.

"I'm afraid this is where our game ends, little one."

Time-Smith - Chapter 18: Revelation

Lucia and Markus exchanged another glance, their minds reeling from the revelation. "Why did you!- Why did you keep this a secret from us? And what’s that skill? Is that a [Demon Eye]?" Lucia aggressively questioned, her voice a strange mix between a shout and a whisper. “And how can you have more than two skills!?”

Evan inwardly derided himself. He couldn't believe he thought they might abandon him. "I was worried you guys would think I was some sort of freak." He admitted.

Lucia shook her head. "Nah, we already knew that. But seriously, Evan, this is insane. Are you sure it's not just an effect of [Postcognition]? Have you tried doing anything else with your skill? What does it do?"

Markus regarded Evan, agreeing with Lucia "That must be it. It has to be [Postcognition]'s effect on your eyes. Does it just change the color and glow while you see the past? Or can they do anything else? Is it really another skill?"

Evan felt a smirk forming, realising he would need to tell his friends about his encounter with R'Hazul and his subsequent transformations.

Evan could feel his excitement and relief building in equal measure, it was a strange shift to the unease he’d just felt seconds ago. "The skill, It's [Flesh Smith]. It means I can permanently change my flesh, or my bones, as long as I understand the changes I'm making and how they work."

“Woah” Lucia and Markus exchanged a glance. "Show us," Lucia said.

“I just did, It’s how I changed my eyes” Evan drained the colour from his eyes, returning them to normal “But, I mean, I get how you might think that's my [Postcognition]”

Evan concentrated on tapping into the core of mana in his heart, he decided to refrain from showing them the effect using his skill had on his scarred chest, as the dark scar tissue no doubt grew in size temporarily. As He felt the electric storm of mana begin to ravage its way through his being, he focused on drawing a slow pulse, and sliver of mana and directed his attention the mana to his finger.

First, he focused his control on the cells of his finger bone, using his lessons on control to manipulate the cells and trigger the growth of a new protrusion of bone. He concentrated, and shaped the bone into a ring-like structure, creating rune-like structures he’d seen on some of R’hazuls books on the exterior to give it an air of magic. Throughout the process, he kept the ring of bone connected to his finger bone, ensuring that it was connected to his main skeletal structure and was both immovable and unremovable.

This would be his cursed item. A fake, and the reason for his glowing eyes. There were plenty of people whose skills had visible effects, and he was loathe to be one of them. Evan had no interest in being easily distinguishable, but the glow in his eyes wasn’t going away. Blaming it on [Postcognition] would stir questions as to why his [Postcognition] was so different from other holders of the skill and its variants to cause such a striking physical change, and so soon after his testing day.

Next, He manipulated the cells of his skin to grow over the bone protrusion, forming a thin layer of skin that covered the entire structure. He flooded the layer of skin with chromatophores and altered its colours so the runes and emblems were shaded a dull, faded red among pale, bone white.

And finally, to ensure that His ring, the bone protrusion, remained in place and could not be removed by force, he use a concentrated burst of mana to control his musculature to attach the bone to the surrounding tissues and muscles, and thick intermittent sections of bone, creating a strong and stable connection that could not be broken.

Markus and Lucia watched as Evan closed his eyes and held a look of intense concentration, before slowly growing an eerie magical-looking ring on his finger. It looked like a [Necromancers] wet dream. “To be honest,” Evan spoke, breaking the silence “I’ve had this skill since we were little, I don't know how or why, but I did”

Lucia and Markus stared at his hand, which he now held outstretched for a long moment before finally nodding. "Okay," Markus said slowly. "We believe you."

"How is that even possible? How can you have so many?" Lucia added, her voice hushed. “And for so long? You’ve been practicing with it all this time?”

Evan shrugged. "Not really. I've been too busy trying to keep it a secret” He held his practice sword up again, inspecting his eyes through metal reflection, they were still tinted with red rings of faint light “I think my [Postcognition] and [Flesh Smith] probably caused the glow, but honestly I'm not sure”. He really wasn't. He was hoping there was some other cause, but what else could it be?

"I had a flashback, with [Postcognition] just now, another one," he said, keeping his voice steady. "It was intense, and I guess it took a lot out of me."

Evan proceeded to tell them all about his latest journey to the past. Detailing his entry to the desert and experimentation with his skills. He needed their perspectives and trusted any opinion they would have.

"What kind of entity? Was it hostile?" Markus interrupted him as he reached the point in his tale where he lost control of his skill.

Evan had no idea how to answer, he had felt a great deal of pain initially, as the mysterious being, or was it beings? took control of his arm. But he hadn’t felt any hatred, or maliciousness from It. Only curiosity. "I don't know. It was more like a presence than a physical entity. But it left me feeling drained and confused. And as far as what my skill can do-"

He paused wondering how much he really needed to tell them. Well, he’d already started, right? why stop now?

"Well…long story short, I met this guy who gave me the ability to transform my body into different shapes and sizes, maybe. I didn't try that. I’d probably have to find a way to get the mass, but it wouldn't be worth it, I think. And, uh, I might have accidentally found a way to transform into a kind of dragon hybrid."

Lucia's eyes widened in surprise. "A dragon? That's incredible!"

Markus snorted. "Yeah, if you're into that kind of thing. Personally, I prefer my body the way it is."

Evan rolled his eyes. "Thanks for the support. Anyway, I was experimenting with my transformation and I made contact with some kind of entity. And now my eyes are glowing."

Markus couldn't resist asking, "I can’t believe you were holding out on us. What else are you hiding?"

Lucia chimed in with her dismay, "It's like we don't even know you anymore, Ev"

Evan was taken aback by their reactions. He couldn't blame them though; he had concealed a significant part of himself from them. “Hey, don't be like that. You guys are still my best friends. And I promise, I won't keep any more secrets from you."

Markus cautioned him, "You better not. If we find out you have a fourth skill, we'll have to plan an intervention."

Lucia agreed, "Yeah, we'll have to sit you down and have a serious talk about trust and friendship."

Evan assured them, "Okay, okay, I get it. No more secrets. But can we at least appreciate the fact that I'm now basically a dragon-hybrid, or everything-hybrid, potentially, and that I can visit the past?"

Markus was unimpressed, “I mean, I guess. So, you can tell us what we should have done after we messed up. Not very helpful, is it?"

Markus continued after some consideration "But... getting information and experiences without consequences, though, that's something. The world would be pretty much yours while you 'time traveled.' It's like being the chosen one but without any actual power or responsibility."

“Um... Thanks?” Evan was almost certain he’d just been insulted. He was powerful! Well, as soon as he got home and re-did the changes, he would be.

He had been carrying the weight of his secrets on his own for too long. He hadn’t even told his parents, fearing they would never let him leave the house. Being able to discuss it like this, with people he trusted, felt right. He felt light, like an ache in his bones had been cured, one he’d never even known was there.

He continued his story and eventually finished with a sigh. “And that’s how I ended up getting impaled by Gideon and waking up here,” he said, gesturing to his surroundings.

Lucia’s eyes widened in shock, “What? Impaled? Are you okay?”

Evan waved a hand dismissively, trying to appear nonchalant. “Honestly, it wasn't that bad. Nowhere near as bad as the first. I didn't even feel it until I saw his hand. It was the fire that really sucked, though” I’m definitely going to have to figure out how to become fireproof, somehow he thought. “You know that feeling when you leave your fingers over a candle for too long? Well, multiply that by a thousand and you might come close to how it feels being surrounded by flames in a desert”. The sand had felt like it could have melted at any moment, and once his vision had become obscured, he’d never been sure if the beams of fire and light lancing toward him were going to hit their mark through the dust, smoke, and steam.

That had been unlike anything he’d ever experienced, but he had learned a lot from that fight.

He decided he needed to rest and assess his form. Then, he had to make some changes—permanent ones.

There was a limit to how strong flesh could be without mana, a limit which he planned to completely shatter, once he found more and more means to do so. He didn't want to look like a freak, mistaken for some horror, and hunted for wholly different reasons when he refined and repeated these changes in the present. He had to maintain the appearance of his human form as much as he was capable, and this limited the number of changes he could make. Really breaks my heart that I can't have elemental wings or even extra arms, Evan sighed, kicking a small castle both he and Markus had built out of practice swords, as Lucia ran towards the entrance of the training hall to briefly attend to her father. No doubt she would want to return as soon as possible to continue their discussion. Markus had begun asking him all sorts of things, from if he could fly, or become a giant, to if he could live forever if he learned how to reverse aging. Funny, he hadn’t even thought of that.

What else could he do? What other changes should he make? could I give my arm a brain?... No, that would be stupid, what if it tried to take over my body? But seriously though, what's next? Do I go for the legs? Maybe get some hidden blades? Sonic blades? or gills? Wait, do I really need gills? That might be a bit of a stretch. He rubbed his chin in contemplation.

I mean, sure, having the ability to breathe underwater would be a useful trick, but how would I even hide them? And do I really want to be known as the guy with fish gills on his neck? Evan shook his head, refocusing on his conversation with his friend.

"But think about it.” Markus continued “If there are other versions of ourselves out there, then there must be different outcomes for every decision we make. Every choice we make could lead to a different version of ourselves in a different dimension. Each one would have its own history, future, and version of reality, there might even be dimensions where you never existed. And what if each one has its own set of rules and realities, Darren had said his world had no skills, what if in one world, time moved in reverse, in that dimension, wouldn’t you be able to see the future?” Markus was odd at times, he rarely took things seriously, but sometimes, he would hit you with something so profound it would make you question how much you really knew him.

Evan paused in consideration “You know what? That could be true, but what's the likelihood of even meeting yourself? Esme had said there were countless worlds in every single one of her dimensions, and meeting someone you knew would be like finding a specific blade of grass in a dense forest”

The pair abruptly turned as the entrance to the hall opened once again, and Lucia returned to inform them that her father had asked her to visit one of the city’s wealth markets to collect an order for him. It was time to leave, anyway, and they had all eventually agreed a visit to the market would be a good way to wind down after training. As long as they stayed with her, there would be no problems.

***

The marketplace in the wealth district of the city was a grand spectacle of opulence and luxury. The sound of coins clinking and exotic beasts growling filled the air. Merchants selling artificed works of magic and technology displayed their wares in grandiose tents, adorned with gold and jewels.

As the trio wandered through the market, they noticed an unusual stillness in the air. One minute there was a gasp to the left, and the next, the people around them began standing taller, more rigid. A couple to their side suddenly fell silent. Muted whispers and halting movement replaced the bustling noise of commerce as a group of people, led by a seated man, parted the crowd. Evan had little understanding of what was happening or who had arrived, but he knew who stood before him.

The Magistrate.

There was no questioning in Evan's mind that the man before him was one of authority. The Magistrate floated above the ground on an elaborate chair made of metal and ivory, his feet suspended, hanging idly above the heads of the crowd. His medals and awards shone brightly in the evening sun, and his presence was so powerful that Evan felt the urge to kneel. It was as if a weight had come crashing down around him, forcing him to the ground with a single glance. Before he knew it, Evan found himself on his knees, with his head bowed.

From the gasps and cries he heard around him, he knew he wasn't the only one.

"All rise," the Magistrate's gravelly voice brought instant relief. Evan looked up to see him scanning through the crowd, his eyes settling on him for a brief moment. A shiver ran down his spine, and he felt paralyzed. "Good afternoon, my people."

"Why are you..." a woman to his right began to speak.

Or at least, she tried to.

He saw her gasp and choke, unable to finish her sentence.

From his chair, the Magistrate raised his hand.

"I did not give you permission to speak," his voice was like a vice, all but constricting their throats. "Citizens, I have come here for a purpose. Our children's fate has finally come; through the might of our city, we have received the gift of posterity. The gift of [Purpose]. The gift, of a Census."

As he spoke, the crowd's mana surged, and Evan felt an urge to teleport, to change his form, and to explore the history of the market. He felt a strength and ease in his skills he had never felt before, as if they only existed to be used at all times, and would work better, and be stronger than ever. Now that he had skills and was of age, he felt an irresistible desire to find his true calling, a profession that would help the city reach new heights.

"Census?" someone asked above the rest.

"Yes, Census," the Magistrate repeated.

Evan felt it then, an insidious feeling of wellness, truth, and grandeur. How could he have ever doubted the Magistrate? The recognition that something had occurred beyond his understanding, brought his mind back to R’hazul, and the way he had been controlled by him.

Evan gulped, pushing down on his growing sense of discomfort.

“The new generation, our new hope, will find their calling.” the Magistrate continued “In our city of hope and possibility, the new generation will be a beacon of strength and promise. They will find their true calling and become the foundations of our great city. Our armies will be mightier for it, our crops bountiful, and our walls stronger. And within our city walls, those who might take on the Role of Protectorate, are rare. It is a calling that only a few, every hundred years, can hear and heed, and many go through their entire lives without realising it. We hope some of your young will realise their skills and the blessings they allow, and ascend to the roles the city has destined for them. A new Protectorate has not resulted from a census for far too long"

"Protectorate?" another voice dared to ask the question. "What does that mean?"

The magistrate's eyes shifted to the speaker, filled with annoyance.

"As a ruler of this great city, I grant you the blessing of [Purpose]." The Magistrate's voice was monotone, as if he was bored with the entire proceeding. "Bear witness."

A sudden pressure built up in the air, like a tangible force that weighed heavily upon the assembled crowd. The pressure mounted, becoming almost unbearable, until it struck them all simultaneously, inside their heads.

It burned. "Incredible." The boy next to him whispered the word, as if mesmerized by the sensations that flooded his mind. He looked around and saw the same reactions on the faces of the others. There were gasps of excitement, wonder, and fear.

"The time for action is upon you, citizens." The Magistrate gestured towards his entourage, and several armoured knights moved forward. "My knights will be watching over the city, to avoid any unfortunate… incidents, over the coming week. I hope that our city and your families will be blessed as you all embrace your destinies, and those who have already found their calling will continue to do so. You are dismissed."

The words hung in the air, final and conclusive.

The armoured men closed in, bowing to their lord, and directing the people towards the archways at the edge of the market. Evan saw doors emblazoned with runes and made of gilded metal, floating above the magistrate's party. At a gesture, they opened, revealing a breath-taking vista of a foreign city skyline, with its towering pillars and majestic stone structures. A different city. The sky was filled with brilliant colours and golden flags. The people moved forward, filled with anticipation and eagerness.

But something compelled him to turn back. A strange sensation, a prickling at the nape of his neck, made him look at the magistrate one last time.

The Magistrate sat in his chair, gliding towards the doorway to another city, staring down at the people with cold disdain, as if they were nothing more than pests to be eradicated. He looked up and caught his gaze, holding it for what seemed like an eternity. Evan was rooted to the spot, unable to move or speak.

And then the Magistrate smiled, a wicked and sinister smile that sent shivers down his spine.

The Magistrate, however, seemed unfazed. 'You have been granted [Purpose], citizens,' he said, his voice booming with authority. 'The rest is up to you.'" His party left, traveling through the doorway to another land, and crossing miles upon miles in an instant, no doubt through the use of some skill. Evan wondered if his [Teleport] would ever be able to do the same.

He had been granted [Purpose], whatever that meant. But what was he supposed to do with it? What was his calling?

And what would happen during the Census?

Soul of Blades - Chapter 17: The End of a Dungeon

Alex walked towards the pulsing portal, uncertainty etched on his face as he contemplated his next move. His hand tensed slightly as he extended it, cautiously placing it through the magical barrier. The moment his hand breached the portal's threshold, he felt a surge of powerful magic enveloping him, an alien sensation that tingled through his fingertips and spread throughout his body. He was submerged in a cocoon of energy.

Amidst the swirling currents of magic, a notification had materialised before his eyes, its words glowing in golden letters:

[Floor completed, proceed to next floor & claim unique skill and rewards?]

"Yes," he breathed out, almost lost in the overwhelming rush of energy that consumed his senses.

Gradually, the sensation subsided, leaving him gasping for breath. As the storm of magic dissipated, Alex found himself standing in a vast expanse, the ground beneath him and the distant surroundings bathed in unrelenting white. The emptiness stretched endlessly, an unknown realm devoid of any discernible landmarks.

[Quest ‘Incursion event -Daemon Sentinel’ Completed]

[Rewards: Granted.]

[Gained Feat: "Survivor" need for sustenance of all kinds reduced by 50%]

[Gained Feat: "Warrior" all stats +5% when in battle against higher level opponents.]

[Gained Feat: "Champion" all stats + 5% when outnumbered in combat]

[Initiating Skill creation protocol…]

[System Alert: Skill creation has been influenced by your class]

[…]

[Congratulations on receiving the first unique skill on the planet. ‘Inner Focus’ - Rank B gained!]

[ Pioneer All stats +5 > Pioneer I - All stats +7]

Alex felt the rush of instant stat gain, reduced to a slight tingle, before a deep voice shattered the tranquility. The flashing feat vanished with a swift wave of his hand. It seemed he had company. There was no room for distractions, then.

"An interloper? So soon? Strange..." The voice, deep and tinged with authority, interrupted his thoughts.

Alex pivoted on his heel, his eyes scanning the expanse behind him. There, he saw a figure emerge from the stark whiteness—a large and aged wolfman, distinguished by his gray streaks and weathered countenance. Clutching a long cane and draped in a patchwork attempt at an Asian traditional robe, the wolfman exuded an air of ancient wisdom and power. Despite his advanced age, he stood tall, towering over Alex with an imposing presence.

To Alex's surprise, five more wolfmen, similarly robed, were seated in a wide circle some distance away, engaged in a mysterious ritual. Between them, the flickering traces of a portal danced in the air, the beginnings of a gateway to another realm, a stark contrast to the monochrome world.

The old wolfman followed Alex’s gaze to look towards his companions, before he stepped to the right, blocking Alex’s view of his allies in an instant. The small movement had been too fast for Alex to track, causing a slight shockwave and a puff of white dust-filled air.

The old Wolf had instantly shifted position with a single step, blurring before Alex’s system enhanced vision. It was almost as if the wolf had moved so fast it had disappeared entirely.

“Focus, interloper.” The wolf growled, its voice booming with rugged irritation. “I'm talking.”

Alex paused in shock, and without hesitation, He opened his stat sheet and dumped all fifty three of his unassigned stats into strength, dexterity, and intelligence. Sixteen into strength, sixteen into dexterity, and thirty-one into intelligence.

[Name: Alex Ironwood

Level: 27

Race: Human - Rank F

Primary Class: ̷̷͎̠̠̖̳̮̿́̏̄͝͠Sys̵̞̈́͆̓̓te̸̪̟͇͕͂mic SwO̷̟̮̙͚̔rd So̶̼̲͋͐͋͂ͅve̶̷̵̴̲̳̱reign

Sub-class: Locked

Strength: 119 (77)

Dexterity: 166 (107)

Endurance: 65 (42)

Intelligence: 180 (116)

Wisdom: 43 (28)

Feats: First Encounter, Pioneer, Pinnacle IV, Survivor, Warrior, Champion

Active skills: Phoenix Leap, Mana Blade, Boundless Dodge, Duȅ̷̳̮̄͝͠l of C̷͎̠̠̖̿́orruption,

Passive skills: Inner Focus, A̷̶̵̴̲̳̱l̸̢͉̗̣̑͐͛à̸̶̵̴̶̷̶̺̥̮̯͇̲̳̱̼̲͒̈́̈͛͋͐͋͂ͅͅ ̷̷̶̴̵̶̷̸̴̶̷̵̢̳̮̲̳̱͉̗̣̲̳̱̏̄̑͐͛͝͠Ω̴̵̶̷̲̳̱ ̶̶̯͇̼̲̈́̈͛͋͐͋͂ͅ ̷̷̶̴̵̶̷̴̶̷̵̳̮̲̳̱̲̳̱̏̄͝͠g̵̶̷̴̲̳̱e̸̪̟͇͕͂e̶̷̵̴̲̳̱E̵̴̶̷̶̵̴̶̷̷̸̸̢̲̳̱̼̲̲̳̱̟̮̙͚͉̗̣̺̥̮͋͐͋͂̔̑͐͛̀͒ͅͅ ̶̷̶̴̵̶̷̯͇̲̳̱̈́̈͛ ̷̸̴̶̷̵̳̮̪̟͇͕̲̳̱̏̄͂͝͠M̷̶̵̴̲̳̱m̸̵̴̶̷̸̷̸̴̶̷̵̢͉̗̣̲̳̱̪̟͇͕̟̮̙͚̺̥̮̲̳̱̑͐͛͂̔̀͒ͅ ̶̯͇̈́̈͛ ̷̸̶̢̳̮͉̗̣̼̲̏̄̑͐͛͋͐͋͂͝͠ͅO̷̟̮̙͚̔o̶̼̲͋͐͋͂ͅᾯ̴̵̶̷̵̴̶̷̷̸̸̸̢̲̳̱̲̳̱̟̮̙͚̪̟͇͕͉̗̣̺̥̮̑͐͛̀͒ ̶̯͇̈́̈͛ ̷̶͎̠̠̖̼̲̿́͋͐͋͂ͅ ̷̳̮̏̄͝͠ ̷̶̴̵̶̷̵̴̶̷̴̶̷̵̲̳̱̲̳̱̲̳̱ ,

Dao: True Immortality - 0.03% Progress

Unassigned stat points: 0]

Viewing his stats, Alex was dumbfounded, he was receiving a 55% bonus. That meant two things; this wolf was stronger than him, and the system was including his summoners as a part of the force Alex was battling, despite them apparently not being directly involved in the fight and busy with the portal. That was a cause for concern. Still, his key stats had all entered the hundreds, almost double his levels worth. That put him on equal terms with someone around level 65, assuming they had a common class and skills. Maybe in the level 50’s if the rarity of their class was higher.

He hoped it would be enough.

He needed strength and speed, but he would need the reaction time even more, to fight and even see this old monsters' movements. With higher dexterity his body could move faster, but without intelligence, his mind would not be able to keep up with the speed of things around him. If this system was similar to the ones he played on earth, then intelligence should involve mana in some way... he’d long suspected it dictated his mana pool. He was pretty sure it was between intelligence and wisdom, but his money was on intelligence. It would explain why it usually took so long for him to run out of mana. After all; intelligence had been and now was once again his highest stat.

He exhaled, centering himself as the warm sensation of evolution engulfed him.

The old wolfman regarded Alex with a haughty gaze, his eyes glinting with knowledge and superiority. "Ah, a human," he sneered, a faint hint of a snarl curling his lip. "Somehow arriving before our dungeon has even begun to be built, and before the tutorial has ended. Alone.” The wolfman eyed him curiously. “There are eight more stages to be built in our dungeon, and many more bosses to arrive, a legion, even. I am merely a Commander, and the General, Swifthelle the unyielding, is not here- but I doubt you would even survive her blades swing.” The Wolfman mimicked a swinging motion with both arms and smiled, his sharp teeth almost blinding as they reflected the light of the empty expanse. “This stage, this small realm- it’s incomplete. And yet here you are.” The Wolfman gave a hearty laugh that sounded like a mix between the howls of a fat man and the huffs of a canine. He continued. “Tell me, stranger, are you really strong or just really lucky?"

Alex, considered the question, and held back a chuckle at all of the insanity he had faced in the last week. “A bit of both, really” he said, with a smirk.

The cavern rumbled with the growl of the ancient wolf, eyes alight with age-old wisdom. His demeanor shifted at Alex’s response. "You younglings, think yourselves special. That you stand a chance against the inevitable. The Canids are ordained by the heavens themselves to rule over this plane when the Imperials arrive." His voice was like the crackling of burning timber, ominous yet enchanting.

Alex, struggling to calm his pounding heart at the words and hidden meanings, stared at the towering figure.

Finally, he had met something that could speak in a language he understood. It had been too long since he had communicated with something other than the inhuman system, perhaps he could finally get some answers. "Why?" He asked, eyes narrowed. "Why invade?”

The old wolf's gaze fell on the portal nearby. "That," he pointed with his staff, "is not a decoration. It's a gateway to our world. When the Imperials arrive, we, the Canids, will ascend, becoming the rightful caretakers and regents of this plane. We will rule this realm in all but name, answering only to them. If you surrender now, you will keep your life and remain in this dungeon as a part of our force. That would be best, hatchling."

Alex gripped the hilt of his sword, feeling the rough grain against his palm. So this is what was happening on Earth, and in this strange world he had yet to truly see. He hoped his family was doing well. Everyone on Earth, and Pyra too, for that matter, had time on their side. They had their tutorials, and whatever benefits the experience would bring. His family, his friends, they would definitely be ok, he hoped. In the week he’d spent studying the wolfmen camp, he had seen their brutality and ruthlessness first hand. The daily battles, and what looked like ‘honour duels’ or simple tests of strength often ended in death matches among the clan. How would they treat those below them, or their enemies, if they killed their allies for simply being too weak? A Spartan culture like that would be a nightmare to live under, millions would die.

That was unacceptable.

“And why should we surrender without a fight?" He asked, his voice low and steady, ready.

"A fight, you say?" The old wolf chuckled, a harsh, grating sound. His fangs glistened ominously. "Why, what you faced was but a scouting party. Our main force approaches in waves, and believe me, boy, it's more than you can handle. How long do you think we have had our system? Weeks? Months? years?"

The old wolf leaned forward on his cane, his sharp features contorting into an inhuman grin, "Or centuries?."

Canines as long as Alex's fingers reflected the white of the expanse around them as the wolfman continued, "Our leaders, our Alphas, and our Supremes. Each of them could raze this planet. The system attempts to limit us, to protect you from our strength, reduce our levels, stats, and classes to give you a chance. But it has always been futile. A fresh planet cannot hope to compare. I commend you on your survival, human. But your journey has reached its end. Surrender or perish, it makes no difference. Our pack is endless." At this, the graying wolf displayed a smug, satisfied grin.

His words hung in the air between them like the scent of blood, heavy with an unspoken threat. Alex steadied himself despite its implications. He couldn't afford to let the wolf get under his skin.

"And yet," Alex said, voice steady, "there's only one of you guarding the portal."

A wry smile curled upon the old wolf's lips, as if he had read Alex's thoughts. "I alone am more than suitable," he declared, his voice dripping with confidence. And with those words, he raised his staff, pointing it directly at Alex. "Let us begin."

As they settled into stances, with tense movements, a sudden flurry of system notifications flashed before Alex's eyes:

[Active Quests: Limitless Prospect: Reach level 200. Reward: Unlock sub-class.]

[Floor Quest: Complete quest to close Incursion Dungeon and return to Pyra.

1: Inducted Insurgent: Servant species 'Apex Canids' are attempting to summon their main force into the dungeon and break free to invade and subvert planet designation 'Pyra' - Defeat the Commander - designation 'Warbane Greydath' and stop the summoning.

Reward: E rank 'Outer Focus' skill, E rank ‘Inventory’ skill, Release from dungeon, E-grade equipment, 'Dungeon Insurgent' Feat - Increased regeneration & resilience when invading planes or facing invaders]

"Huh," Alex muttered, a mix of surprise and amusement colouring his voice. "So I really only have to beat one guy?" A hint of a smirk tugged at his lips. "I wasn't expecting it to be this easy."

The wolf commander cocked his head, a mix of curiosity and amusement hinted in his eyes. "… Humans." the commander sneered, before acting.

In a flash of motion, the wolf launched himself at Alex with explosive speed, almost appearing to have disappeared for a second to Alex's senses, his movements a blur of fur and fangs.

A streak of grey and white instantly descended on Alex, faster than his eyes could follow. Alex barely even saw him move before a blade was at his neck, less than a second away from removing his head from his body.

Time-Smith - Chapter 17: Confessions

With a gasp, Evan regained consciousness, clutching his chest in a cold sweat.

Images of different universes and dimensions still swam across his vision, or was that just his pounding headache causing the world to spin wherever he looked? He couldn't tell. Clutching his chest, he felt a dull, cold, throbbing pain that matched the one in his head, where he suspected Gideon's final blow had landed, where he guessed the final blow from Gideon had landed. He hadn't seen a sign of him, and barely felt the hand going through his chest. The sight of his own heart being held in someone else's hands would be a hard one to forget. But how did he make it back to the present? He looked down at his chest, half-expecting to see a gaping wound, but there was no sign of injury.

Although, that death was… not as bad as the first, but still pretty damned bad. He could already feel the throbbing pain in his chest subsiding. He supposed the instant nature of his death had lessened the impact. “I guess it's true,” he muttered under his breath. He’d heard stories of hunters being maimed so quickly they didn't feel a thing, until they noticed the empty space where a limb used to be.

Evan groaned as he tried to push himself up, wincing at the pain that shot through his chest. Slowly sitting up, his head continued to throb as he looked around the training hall. He was relieved to see that he was back in the present and that he was not alone. Lucia and Marcus were both sitting near him, they turned to look at his sweating form.

Marcus leaned forward “What's true?”

“Nothing,” Evan said, grunting as he shifted into a seated position, “Just a bad dream, I guess. How long was I out?”

“Not too long,” Lucia said, regarding him curiously. “About a minute, why?”

"Just feels like I was out much longer," he responded, running his hands through his hair in confusion. So there was some time dilation involved in the use of [Postcognition], He’d been in the desert for just under four days.

Lucia looked at him sceptically. “You sure?” Lucia and Markus stopped mid-sentence, staring at Evan in surprise. “Hey, Evan?” Lucia said, suddenly projecting caution “Not to sound like a complete lunatic, but are your eyes glowing, or is that just me?"

Marcus shifted closer, “You know what, I think you’re right. Ev, don't freak out or anything, but your eyes might actually be glowing…Is that normal?”

Evan froze, his smile faltering. “What? No, that’s not normal. What colour?”

“Red,” Markus said, leaning in to get a closer look. “But it’s not like a demon red or anything. It’s just a dull, faint red.”

Evan's hand flew to his face as he realised they were right. His eyes were emitting a dull red glow, judging by the light reflecting off his fingers, almost like they were candles. He rubbed his eyes, hoping to make the strange glow go away. But he could still see the red light persisting.

“Oh gods”

Evan tried to calm down, but the panic was steadily building. What if this was some sort of curse or disease? What if he was going to be driven mad? or consumed? He closed his eyes, and exhaled, trying to focus. He had no idea what this could be, but his thoughts were taken to his failed transformation in the desert, and that strange, foreign entity he had that had seized his arm. And the eyes. He wondered if this had anything to do with that.

If this was permanent, he would need to come up with something.

Do I tell them everything? Evan wondered to himself. He still wasn’t sure. To be honest, he couldn’t imagine treating them like untrustworthy strangers, but that was in no way enough of a reason. On the one hand, telling them would remove the beginnings of the inevitable gulf his secrets would cause to grow between them. But on the other hand, telling them the details of his skills would undoubtedly put all of their lives in danger. As it stood he was barely confident in being able to protect himself, let alone the two of them and his family. After all, He thought, sighing in resignation, they say two people can only keep a secret, if one of them is dead. He opened his eyes again and forced another smile. “I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about.”

Lucia considered him hesitantly “O…kay… Yeah, totally normal. Happens to me all the time, especially when I'm possessed by demonic forces." she said, face tilted and clearly not convinced. “Seriously Ev, what's going on?”

Evan hesitated, wondering if he should tell his friends about [Flesh Smith] and the encounter with R'Hazul, if not them, then who else? They were even closer than family in some ways. He knew he had to tell them something to explain his sudden collapse.

As he stood there, lost in thought, he wondered if the decision he made would be the right one, if it would align with how he wanted to live his life. He didn't even know how he wanted to live his life. He knew that the weight of the secret was growing heavier with each passing moment, and that he needed to make a choice.

Markus leaned in for a closer look, “It's like they're...alive.” He glanced from eye to eye, studying Evan like a [Healer], or even worse, like a [Surgeon]. Evan shuddered at the thought. "Yeah well, technically eyes are alive," Markus continued. "But you know what I mean. See, it just pulsed. This is insane."

“How are you feeling? alright?” It was Lucias' turn to now inspect the glow.

Evan nodded, "Yeah, I'm okay, I don't feel any different to be honest." He rubbed his temples, wincing slightly as he did. "I feel fine. My eyes feel normal."

Markus frowned, "You sure? You look like you've just seen a ghoul."

Evan chuckled softly, "More like a Wyvern, actually."

Lucia raised an eyebrow, "A Wyvern? What do you mean?"

Evan sighed, "It's a long story. Hold on a second”

Evan went to grab a practice sword, a real one, to inspect his new eyes. As he stood on the other side of the hall, staring at the strange red glow, he caused mana to flare within his chest as he tapped into his [Flesh Smith] skill. Evan paused, hand held steady, and turned his eyes as dark as possible, flooding them with melanin. The red glow persisted. Frustrated, he concentrated, sending a small storm of mana to his eyes, and created pigment-filled sacs using the Wyverns chromatophores to flood his eyes with a deep, pitch-black colour. Strange though, he thought, I’ve never heard of a wyvern that can change colours, sounds like something everyone would know… unless it kills them before they can report back? He decided that was a problem for another day. Focusing back on his eyes, reflected through the sword, he inspected the changes. He was hoping to smother the glow with darkness, but now all he could see were two eerie red rings glowing even brighter within pure pitch-black eyes. He’d made it even more obvious.

Evan heard two sets of footsteps behind him and quickly drained his eyes of the dark colour, although the new pigment sacs remained. His two friends must’ve gotten impatient.

Markus scratched his head, “This is some weird shit. What do you think it means? Were you cursed? And you just haven't noticed until now?”

Evan stared at his reflection in the sword he held. The dim glow persisted and he couldn't understand why. There was no biological reason for it, so maybe it was magical? but he couldn’t sense any difference in his mana… So was he really cursed? But how? And why now? He had never touched a cursed item, so that couldn't be it either. He thought back to the failed transformation and the mysterious entity that had caused it. Could it be the cause? But how could it affect him through time? Was the voice he had heard a manifestation of his mana? or was it an external entity that had taken control of him? Was it a sign of his skills’ connection to something greater than himself, or was he unable to control his skill and just going crazy? Evans' mind was a maelstrom of questions.

The entity seemed to possess some sort of intelligence, and had appeared to be seeking knowledge, demanding an answer to its question. And the question was a strange one. Evan wondered what would happen if he gave it an answer. Would it destroy him if he said no? Or simply leave? Would it bring him closer to understanding the nature of the entity, and how he came to possess [Flesh Smith]? or would it unleash a power beyond his control? He didn't have a clue. What if it took over his whole body, and not just his arm?

Evan shook his head, “I have no idea. It could be something to do with my most recent experience with [Postcognition]. Or.. something else”

Marcus glanced at Lucia, then back to Evan, his curiosity piqued. "Something else? What else? You mean when you ‘died’?"

Lucia stepped forward tentatively “Do you remember anything from when you were gone?”

Evan nodded. But remained silent, he was deep in thought. It was almost as if the voice had been dormant, and Evan's use of [Flesh Smith] had awakened it. But what was it?

“Look Evan, we get that your eyes are glowing like a [Seers] prophetic trance, but what's going on? Why are you acting so weird?”

Evan stood in front of the two people he trusted the most, Lucia and Markus. He knew that telling them about his secret flesh-smithing skill would change everything. He hesitated, still grappling with indecision. Should he tell them? He recognized that there was no easy answer. Confessing could result in punishment and harm to almost everyone he loved, while keeping the secret could lead to separation from the very same people, and as his skills took him to new heights, guilt and inner turmoil would follow. He thought about the potential consequences of both options and accepted that whatever decision he made would change the course of his life forever. He closed his eyes and lowered his head.

In the darkness of his mind, Evan was left to confront the reality that the answer was not black and white. He was questioning whether the decision he made would be a reflection of who he was as a person and would shape his future in ways he cannot yet imagine. Would he become a lone wolf? Or a champion of people? An ordinary boy? A happy boy? Or an Apathetic killer with no close connections?

He wondered if he was being dramatic, but then he remembered all the cuts, bruises, and chunks of flesh he'd lost fighting for his life, the screams as [Immortallity] reknit the nameless boys' flesh, and his own soundless screams as heat had seared his lungs and skin. Then he thought of his younger sister, Luci.

Maybe he wasn't being dramatic enough.

In the end, Evan resolved to embrace his secrets, to use them to empower himself and those around him. He realized that they were both a burden and a gift, a tool of power and a means of self. Perhaps in the act of sharing, he could find a balance between who he wanted to be. A man that grows with his family and friends, building a life, and a man that fights leviathans, and leviathan killers like R’hazul and survives. A balance between the light and the darkness, he thought.

As Evan looked at his friends, he knew that his decision would impact not only the rest of his life but also theirs. He hoped that they would understand and support him, but he was prepared for the worst. He had made his choice, and now he had to live with the consequences.

He had to tell them.

"Guys," he said, his voice quiet, and tone firm, "I have a secret skill."

Lucia and Markus stopped shoving each other, something that had started as Markus adjusting Lucias' hair, Lucia taking offense, and the two silently trying to knock each other over as they waited for Evan to respond. They now both stared at him in disbelief. Markus looked up from beneath Lucias' headlock "That's impossible," He muttered.

“That’s just, Not. Possible.” Markus straightened as Lucia let go. Her Jaw was slightly ajar in disbelief.

Evan raised his head as he spoke to lock eyes with Markus, then flooded his eyes with a deep black pigment. The red-ringed glow shined brighter atop the sea of black.

"I know."

Soul of Blades - Chapter 16: A Class above

[Select a Class of your choosing. Classes are based on your actions and achievements during your induction, and will aid you in spearheading your displayed strengths. Grow strong, and serve your imperial masters well]

[̷͎̠̠̖̿́o̶̼̲͋͐͋͂ͅt̶̢̻͉́̕͜ ̷̳̮̏̄͝͠s̵̞̈́͆̓̓ṷ̷̭̓͆͛̋Sys̵̞̈́͆̓̓t̶̢̻͉́̕͜ ̷̳̮̏̄͝͠emi̷͎̠̠̖̿́c ̷̳̮̏̄͝͠Reg ̷̳̮̏̄͝͠ent ̷̳̮̏̄͝͠ (Unique): This cla ̷̳̮̏̄͝͠ss grants bonȕ̷̳̮̄͝͠s̵̞̈́͆̓̓es to sṷ̷̭̓͆͛̋b ̷̳̮̏̄͝͠verting th ̷̳̮̏̄͝͠e system, manip ̷̳̮̏̄͝͠ulating its functi̷͎̠̠̖̿́o̶̼̲͋͐͋͂ͅns, and gain ̷̳̮̏̄͝͠ing unique in ̷̳̮̏̄͝͠sights int̷͎̠̠̖̿́o̶̼̲͋͐͋͂ͅ the mṷ̷̭̓͆͛̋ltitude of energ ̷̳̮̏̄͝͠iȅ̷̳̮̄͝͠s̵̞̈́͆̓̓ and path̷̳̮̏̄͝͠s̵̞̈́͆̓̓ to power in exi ̷̷̳̮̳̮̏̄̏̄͝͠͝͠s̵̞̈́͆̓̓tence. This class̵̞̈́͆̓̓ is assigned ‘Forbidden’ and its acceptance will res̵̞̈́͆̓̓ult in imperial action.

Levelling bonus: all stats +10

Skills: Energy Affinity, Control]

[Eternal Sword Sovereign (Unique): The Sword Sovereign is a class that emphasises strength, agility, magic, and strong sword skills. A Sword Sovereign utilises their mana to enhance their sword strikes, speed, and evasion. They are particularly adept at using their advantages in battles. rapid strikes. Mana combat. Controlling their blade with mana. swordplay and martial prowess. Sword Sovereigns use their mana to understand and execute complex sword techniques, as well as comprehend the profound essence of their weapon. They often integrate metaphysical mana into their fighting style, channelling essences of magic and its many forms into their blade. This class is more in tune with affinity for swords.

Levelling bonus: Strength +4, Dexterity+4, intelligence+6, 4 free stats

Skills: Mana Blade, Boundless Dodge]

[Karmic Rift Blade (Mythic): The Karmic Rift Blade class emphasises precise, devastating sword strikes that disrupt the flow of mana in opponents, akin to creating karmic rifts. It possesses the ability to disrupt mana around itself, thus interrupting enemy attacks. This class possesses high agility and attack stats, enabling swift movements and powerful offensive capabilities. The Karmic Rift Blade's focus is on manipulating mana, to disrupt and incapacitate foes. With their exceptional agility and mastery over mana, these warriors excel at delivering impactful strikes that unravel the magical abilities around them.

Levelling bonus: Strength +5, Dexterity+6, intelligence+4, 5 free stats

Skills: Karmic Severance, Flux Barrier,]

[Nature's Sentinel (Legendary): a class that focuses on encounters with magical, alien, rare, or floral wildlife, harnessing the power of mana to navigate and thrive in these diverse environments. Through the mastery of mana, class holders tap into the intrinsic magic of nature, enabling them to enhance their survival skills and interact harmoniously with their surroundings. By channelling mana, they gain heightened sensory perception, allowing them to sense the subtle movements of creatures and perceive the underlying magical forces at play. Furthermore, their connection to mana grants them the ability to communicate effortlessly with animals of all kinds, forming an unspoken bond that transcends language barriers. As the class progresses, Nature's Sentinels can shape and manipulate mana to manifest protective barriers, tame creatures, create natural illusions, and even momentarily infuse their own being with the essence of nature mana, bestowing them with increased and new capabilities. With this arsenal of natural and magical abilities, Nature's Sentinels become formidable guardians of the balance between civilization and the untamed realms of nature. grants bonuses to survival skills, nature magic, and the ability to commune with animals.

Levelling bonus: Endurance+3, Intelligence+4, Widom+4, free stats +4

Skills: Wildstep, Nature's Aura, Fell Forestation]

[Apex Predator (Rare): This class, harnessing the power of mana, becomes a formidable force in the realm of hunting and vanquishing apex creatures. Mana, the essence of magic, infuses their every move, granting them unparalleled abilities. They can manipulate mana to enhance their hunting skills, enabling them to track elusive targets with remarkable precision. Furthermore, this infusion of mana provides them with heightened senses, allowing them to view and analyse the weaknesses of powerful creatures, making them exceptionally efficient at exploiting vulnerabilities. By utilising mana, they can detect the presence of apex creatures from a distance, attuning themselves to their unique magical signatures. Apex Predators are exceptionally devastating, dealing amplified damage to apex creatures, leaving no doubt as to their dominance in the realm of hunting.

Levelling bonus: Endurance+1, Strength+5, Dexterity+2, Intelligence +2, free stats +2

Skills: Hunters Shroud, Mythic Maw, Mark of the Hunted]

[Cursed Blade (Mythic): This class utilises mana to shave off and harnesses the user's soul and life-force, infusing it into their weapon and body to unleash devastating attacks and movements bordering on the realm of imperial masters. A small portion of life force is consumed upon selecting this class, permanently boosting the stat gain by three times the standard of mythic classes. This class drastically reduces the holder's lifespan, and excessive power results in a guaranteed untimely death. This class is assigned ‘Forbidden’ and its acceptance will result in imperial action.

Levelling bonus: All stats +10, free stats +10

Skills: Unholy Resilience, Soul Sacrifice, Devour, Death's Embrace, Mortal Frenzy, Blink step]

[Crafter (common): This class is skilled in crafting and utilising weapons, items and equipment. The Crafter class is a specialised role focused on the creation, enhancement, and modification of various items and equipment. Crafters possess unique skills and knowledge in gathering resources, refining materials, and crafting powerful gear for themselves and other players. They can also unlock and upgrade recipes, imbue magical properties into items.

Levelling bonus: Endurance+1, Strength+2, Dexterity+4, free stats +3

Skills: Blacksmith's Touch, Artisan's Eye]

The words hung in front of him, more significant than any he'd witnessed so far. The system claims the classes reflect his past actions and hint at futures where his strengths can be fully realised.

A smorgasbord of power. An all-you-can-eat buffet of potential.

Alex stood there, deep in thought, notifications flashing around him, each one carrying implications, and possible meanings and clues to the wider multiverse. He immediately dismisses the clearly broken and strange class called 'Systemic Regent'.

A glitched class? A hard pass.

The text is jumbled and hard to read, but he managed to parse its meaning. He stood there, pondering its meaning, implications, and possible relation to his glitched unusable second skill. The Class, would most likely be no better than the glitched skill. He would shackle himself to a path of uselessness with that choice. Although... the choice itself is strange, and the description was admittedly tantalising. Subverting the system could be useful. That is, if the skills ever managed to work. Until then, It remained a liability. The glitches are unpredictable and have proved useless so far. He can't even use his glitched skill, so how could a glitched class help him? His skill did not activate a single time, despite all the times he teetered on edge between life and death. Its listed as passive, but could he even trust it to even work like a normal skill? No, he had surmised that the skill doesn't work at all. Passive, or active, he feels no different; the skill changed nothing.

Could a glitched class be any better? Doubtful.

His eyes caught sight of the stat boosts. Tempting. Plus ten to all stats, with strength, dexterity, endurance, Intelligence and wisdom all receiving a boost of ten stats each, that was fifty stats in total. Fifty per level is insanely powerful, and 'Cursed Blade' was even more so, at sixty. But he had already witnessed the power held by the outside worlds, and wondered what kind of power a group that holds dominion over such worlds- the Imperials, could have. He had no idea what effect the glitches could have. What if they played havoc? And he couldn't risk an untimely death, shaving off pieces of his soul, and lifeforce.

Yet a thought nudged him - his Dao. True immortality. Could it help? Revive or rebirth his soul? He is unsure. It was too risky, too filed with uncertainty.

And why was he offered the cursed blade? It had the highest rarity but came with the steepest cost, not only his life and soul but also immediate attention and intervention by the ones powerful enough to control the system. Although it did seem to offer the power to combat them. Could he choose it and gain enough power before they arrived? What if they arrived immediately? Could he defeat them with the plethora of powerful skills the class offered? It seemed doubtful, but the skills all seemed immensely powerful — unholy resilience, devour, blink step. No doubt, he would gain an insane stat boost of some kind with soul sacrifice and likely a permanent one.

His gaze slid to the other classes, each carrying potential. He pondered each class's potential pros and cons. Mana Blade was clearly some kind of blade made of mana. Outside of his dao and personal techniques, he lacked offensive capabilities. The description hinted at versatility and "controlling his blade," or “the blades essence” which seemed like a skill that could make up for what he lacked. Boundless Dodge was also pretty clear — some kind of dodging skill. The "boundless" aspect caused him to feel it may allow him to dodge without constraint.

Very useful.

The glitched class offered energy sensing and hinted at paths to power beyond magic. The idea caused his thoughts to return to the immortals and the phoenix. Perhaps the skill could allow him to tap into their methods. It was something extremely interesting and tempting, but the uncertainty and thought of facing an imperial stayed his hand. Facing someone strong enough to rule over the masters in his vision was now an impossibility. He just wasn't strong enough. How could he face a blow that could cleave a mountain in two? He would simply die as soon as they arrived or be captured.

Control, the other glitched skill, held no meaning to him. For all he knew, it could be just as useless as his existing one. The class was undoubtedly offered to him because of his glitched skill, but now, because of it, he had a hint as to the nature of his useless skill. It would be safer to learn how to use it than to select a dangerous class and set powerful monsters on his tail. If he could, he would subvert the system without a spotlight siccing world conquering masters after him.

Karmic Rift Blade was clearly because of his Dao and the Phoenix's ability to interact with karma. Could he do the same using the dao? If so, this class was redundant. Why choose a class that does what he already can? The Phoenix could sever karma and create barriers. He didn't know how, but he was sure he would be able to do so with his dao once he gained understanding. The class would not be useful at all.

Nature's Sentinel made him smile. It must have been because of his encounter with Plantie. It was an interesting class, extremely versatile, and came with what looked like combat skills, but the stat boosts per level were paltry. In more peaceful circumstances, he may have chosen it and grown stronger while fighting with an army of monstrous plants and tamed animals, but it couldn't help him here. It wouldn't give him the edge he needed to survive and make it back to Earth.

Apex Predator, however, was a top contender. Hunter's Shroud must have been some sort of stealth skill, Mythic Maw an attack of some kind, and Mark of the Hunted could have many meanings, all of them impressive. The stat boosts focused on strength but still didn't outshine the other classes. It was no doubt offered due to his slaying of the pack leaders and floor guardians. Deep down, he felt he didn't deserve this class. That had barely even been a fight.

And ‘Eternal sword sovereign’. Another ‘unique’ class. Although mythic, legendary and rare classes offer more starting skills, the unique rank suggests it may have been made just for him, and it feels that way. He does not need a class that mimics his dao in a much weaker way. His vision had shown him that the dao was supremely powerful when compared to magic. What he needed was versatility, something that plays to all of his strengths, and this class seemed perfect for his journey with the blade.

He glanced at the classes one last time, searing the details into his memory for future reference.

So... He thought, Common Classes give stat boosts of ten per level,

Rare Classes give twelve,

Legendary Classes give fifteen

Mythic Classes is twenty, according to the class description

and Unique Classes give stat boosts anywhere from eighteen to sixty per level... Eternal sword sovereign gives eighteen, and Systemic regent gives fifty... Damn, unique classes are OP. I wonder if i can evolve them... you can evolve race, probably. Why not classes?

Alex rubbed his chin in consideration. Should he ever encounter someone with a powerful or even weak class, it would be good to know what he was dealing with, and what stats, and strength, they could potentially have.

After pondering all of the skills and classes and which of his actions could have possibly led to them being made available, he decided to choose 'Eternal Sword Sovereign'. The class was clearly created due to his dedication to the blade and attempts at creating an immortal sword style. It's perfect. He selected the class, received a notification of class confirmation and skill confirmation, and felt the mana within him deepen and expand. A warm feeling spreading throughout his body, centering on his heart.

Pain seized him.

The holographic panel turned blood-red for a second time. A jumbled mess of glyphs crossed it, bleeding off the screen and into reality, a confusing mess of symbols that hurt Alexis gaze. His eyes unfocused as he struggled to understand, and His heart skipped a beat as he saw the crimson message warp, twist, and change.

[Class:  ̷͎̠̠̖̿́ ̷̳̮̏̄͝͠s̵̞̈́͆̓̓Sys̵̞̈́͆̓̓te̸̪̟͇͕͂mi̷͎̠̠̖̿́c ̷̳̮̏̄͝͠SwO̷̟̮̙͚̔rd S ̷͎̠̠̖̿́o̶̼̲͋͐͋͂ͅve̶̷̵̴̲̳̱reign̶̡̮͋̕͝ selected!]

No. Not again.

His heart jumped, and his body convulsed, seizing and falling over as pain engulfed his every nerve. The pain, white-hot and blinding, lashed through him, causing his muscles to bulge and contort.  A deep ache filled his being,a wrongness. It felt as though the very essence of who he was was being torn apart and altered. For a moment, all he knew was pain. But it was over as soon as it began. The pain stopped and vanished completely, as if it had never even happened. He was back, crumpled on the jungle floor, the moist earth cooling his heated skin. He rose to his feet and viewed the fading blood red panel.

[Class:  ̷͎̠̠̖̿́ ̷̳̮̏̄͝͠Sys̵̞̈́͆̓̓te̸̪̟͇͕͂mi̷͎̠̠̖̿́c ̷̳̮̏̄͝͠SwO̷̟̮̙͚̔rd So̶̼̲͋͐͋͂ͅve̶̷̵̴̲̳̱reign̶̡̮͋̕͝:

The Sword Sovereign is a class that emphasises strength, agility, magic, and strong sword skills Ab̷̷̳̮̳̮̏̄̏̄͝͠͝͠O̷̟̮̙͚̔ve ̷̳̮̏̄͝͠ all. A Sword Sovereign utilises their energ ̷̳̮̏̄͝͠iȅ̷̳̮̄͝͠s̵̞̈́͆̓̓ to enhance their sword strikes, speed, and evasion. They are particularly adept at using their advantages in battles. rapid strikes. Mana combat. Controlling their blade with mana. swordplay and martial prowess. Sword Sovereigns use their mana to understand and execute complex sword techniques, as well as comprehend the profound essence of their weapon. They often integrate metaphysical mana into their fighting style, channeling the essences of energ ̷̳̮̏̄͝͠iȅ̷̳̮̄͝͠s̵̞̈́͆̓̓ and their many forms into their blade. This class is more in tune with affinity for swords.This cla ̷̳̮̏̄͝͠ss grants bonȕ̷̳̮̄͝͠s̵̞̈́͆̓̓es to sṷ̷̭̓͆͛̋b ̷̳̮̏̄͝͠verting th ̷̳̮̏̄͝͠e system, manip ̷̳̮̏̄͝͠ulating its functi̷͎̠̠̖̿́o̶̼̲͋͐͋͂ͅns, and gain ̷̳̮̏̄͝͠ing basic in ̷̳̮̏̄͝͠sights int̷͎̠̠̖̿́o̶̼̲͋͐͋͂ͅ the mṷ̷̭̓͆͛̋ltitude of energ ̷̳̮̏̄͝͠iȅ̷̳̮̄͝͠s̵̞̈́͆̓̓ in exi ̷̷̳̮̳̮̏̄̏̄͝͠͝͠s̵̞̈́͆̓̓tence.

Leveling bonus: Strength +4, Dexterity+4, intelligence+6, 4 free stats]

[Class Skill: Mana Blade gained!]

[Class Skill: Boundless Dodge gained!]

[Class Skill: Due̸̪̟͇͕͂l of C̷͎̠̠̖̿́orruption gained!]

Alex blinked, the glitching system messages still seared into his vision. His choice, his action, had been completely subverted, and the very nature of his class twisted into into an unexpected consequence. He had chosen the Eternal sword sovereign, but whatever was causing his system to malfunction had warped the class and granted him something else. Something unknown, and something he hoped was more than it had once been.

[System Inductee level 27 - Unclassed threshold exceeded by: 2 levels]

[Class selected: 2 class stat boosts assigned]

[Strength +8, Dexterity+8, intelligence+12, unassigned stats +8]

[Floor reward - Unique skill allocated, please proceed to the portal to create skill]

So the glitch didn’t boost my stats to 50 per level. How disappointing. But at least there’s no threat of ‘imperial action... maybe overpowered stat boosts trigger the warning? He had 52 free stats, but decided to wait to see what the next floor had to offer before assigning them. A small part of the reason he had chosen the sword sovereign class was because it's natural state gain matched what he had intended. He supposed that was why the original class had been offered to him, ‘based on his actions so far’, it had said. This was life and death, and he would happily dump all 50 stats into strength, dexterity, or even endurance if it meant he would survive, it could even be an evolution. He understood the need to hone his path more than anyone, to focus himself to become the sharp point of a blade. But deep down, he felt that only a fool would treat their life flippantly, dying because they were attached to some silly ideal ‘build’. What if you met the perfect counter to your specifications? Would you die with a smile? Alex wouldn't. In his mind, a true fighter had to be fluid, adaptaple, able to change at a moment's notice.

Like water.

He inhaled sharply and rubbed at a phantom pain in his chest, it still tingled and ached, as if some part of his being had been burned, hammered and twisted. The ghostly pain interrupted his train of thought.

That ache during the class gain… What was that? it was strange… it felt like my soul was on fire… I could’ve sworn the pain was stat growth, but my stats hardly changed… To Alex, it had felt like he’d been rolled down a hill in a sack filled with glass while being chased and beaten by angry hobos- or at least how he imagined something like that would feel like. The second of pain had seemed to stretch longer than possible, as if time had stood still for minutes. But somehow he knew it had only lasted an instant, passing through him in milliseconds. He stood, and dismissed the notifications and stat boosts- it could wait. He was more interested in testing his new skills.

He thought the words "Boundless Dodge," but nothing happened, although he felt his mana dip slightly. Instinctively, he felt that if something were to be striking at or attacking him in that moment, once the skill had been activated, he would be able to see what the skill was truly capable of. It was almost as if he’d always known that information and just remembered it.

It was an odd sensation. To Alex, having feelings and knowledge planted in his head so subtly felt strange. And while it was convenient, it just didn’t feel right.

Eh, whatever. I'm sure there’s ways around it. He vividly remembered one of the three powerful wolves spamming ‘Phoenix Leap’ without any of the cooldowns he was subjected to, all three lf the wolves in fact. That told him there were ways to get past the system's skill limitations; he just needed to figure them out. Let’s hope the new class lives up to its description and isn't as useless as the glitched ‘Agemo’ skill. He thought. Actually… Agemo, activate?

Alex stood there in silence, amidst the aftermath of chaos, the scorched jungle swaying, caressed by the wafting winds of dying flames and growing embers, his mana not budging an inch at his attempted skill activation. Still nothing. Well it was worth a try.

Alex's gaze lingered on the holographic panel, its glitching text a buzzing reminder of the unexpected twist in his fate. The scorched jungle around him, littered with the remnants of battles, seemed almost peaceful compared to the turmoil in his mind.

Okay, let's break this down. The system's clearly gone haywire. 'Systemic Sword Sovereign' instead of 'Eternal Sword Sovereign'?

The existence of multiple glitched classes and a procedure for ‘imperial action’ suggested a broader phenomenon. It suggested that the glitches weren't new, they must've happened before. “You can't forbid a class you've never seen,” he muttered to himself in deep thought. The warnings around overpowered stat boosts could suggest that other glitches or forbidden classes were all based around overpowered stats and growth. That makes sense. If I was an imperial ‘master’, I wouldn't want a serf to get too strong, or as strong as Phoenix. The fact that there was no Imperial action or warning around his new corrupted class implied that the nature of both his glitches and class was truly unique. It had to be something the system, or the Imperial had never seen before, that could explain why it wasn't forbidden. Or maybe it was the basic stay gain. But either way, why him?

Although the new class might allow deeper understanding of the system, on reviewing the changes in the skill description, it seemed to Alex as though ‘systemic regent’ was more powerful than ‘systemic sword sovereign’, although it wasn't geared towards the sword.  Systemic Regent offered ‘unique insights’ rather than the ‘basic insights’ of systemic Regent. But the fact that his class choice had been subverted at was a slight cause for concern. Perhaps any choice he made would’ve produced a warped, glitched, and twisted version.

Is the system even reliable, then? And if the imperials created the system, wouldn’t they have free control over it? Why would it even have forbidden classes? An idea was creeping on the corners of his mind, the idea that maybe his class and the glitches had nothing to do with the Imperials at all.

Well, this is a fine mess. He moved on to his second latest skill, deciding it was better to focus on the things he could control.

“Duel of corr-“ His instincts screamed a warning. Without a target, this skill would do nothing, and its cool-down would last a whole day.

Huh, at least it works, sort of. I wonder what it does? Another glitched skill, his second one so far- ‘Duel of Corruption’- It hadn’t been in the original class description, that meant whatever malfunction twisted his class had added that skill in there. This 'Duel of Corruption'... sounds ominous. It’s got to be an attack skill of some kind. What's it going to corrupt? The system? My enemies?… Or me? He guessed he wouldn’t find out what the skill did until he had a target.

Mana Blade' and 'Boundless Dodge' are still there, at least. Same foundation as the eternal sword sovereign class, but it could be the skills have changed somehow. He wiped a bead of sweat from his brow, the sensation reminding him of the youthful vigor in this new body. Despite all the changes and uncertainty, a small part of him revelled in the forgotten feeling of youth. Resigned but relieved, he moved on to the final class skill.

Mana Blade, he thought.

The skill, 'Mana Blade' coated his blade in a thin, barely visible sheen of pure mana. He sensed that he could influence the mana somehow but had no idea how to do so. Strangely, this time his instincts didn’t tell him how. Curious, he rested the blade on a nearby log, only for the blade to sink in as if the log was made of butter. His mana reserves were almost exhausted from the brief use.

It seemed that the skill had a constant drain while activated and could only be used for a minute at most. It wasn't something he'd be able to use indefinitely.

Still, it was a start.

Time-Smith - Chapter 16: A storm of Fire and Ice

When you're in the midst of a raging fire, it's easy to forget that there's a world outside. You become totally immersed in the heat and chaos, surrounded by a sea of flames that stretch out as far as the eye can see.

All around you, there's a cacophony of crackling flames, billowing smoke, and scorching hot sand or glass beneath your feet; you would not be able to tell. Your shoes would slough off in moments, leaving the soles of your feet exposed, in a constant state of regeneration and scorched decay. You feel the heat pulsing through your body, suffocating your lungs and making your skin feel as though it's about to burst into flames. The only thing that keeps you going in such an environment is a biologically enhanced body, honed through a [Flesh Smith] skill.

In the midst of an inferno, the heat emanates from the ground itself. And soon, the boiling sand beneath your feet becomes superheated glass, scorching every inch of skin that touches it. With every breath you take searing your lungs, the intense heat and light reflected through the glass beneath you would at points feel like standing on the surface of the sun.

Now try to conceive of surviving all that, but with explosions of heat and fire erupting wherever you stray too long, and beams of fire continuing to lance towards you from unseen locations and angles, threatening to roast you alive.

Now consider that despite all this, you keep moving, your feet pounding the ground. Maybe it's the way the superheated sand crunches beneath your feet, or the way you seem to see every swirl and grain of sand and smoke, frozen in time, hinting at the coming unseen beam of fire, and effortlessly move your body out of the way. Or maybe it's just the adrenaline pumping through your veins. You stand your ground, pressing forward unafraid. You feel invincible, like nothing can stop you. And so far, nothing has.

And then you see them - the lances of ice that jut out from the flames like jagged teeth. They are small and giant, deadly and serene, and with one wrong move, they threaten to skewer you. You dance around the lances, dodging and weaving like an ember caught in the hot winds, feeling some pain as a close shave shears the skin off your back. You swing your fists, destroying them in a shower of steam, but they keep coming, relentless in their pursuit. You shatter every one that comes.

You remember stories of games played by barbarian children, where they mimic the use of mana and skills, without actually having any, using ice and fire. In their snowy mountains, the children of the Hailpeake Horde use a small amount of dried cloth or leaves and surround it with ice in a container that withstands heat. Next, the young ones ignite the leaves or dried bark and cloth and quickly drop a few ice cubes onto the flames. The ice instantly melts and turns into steam, which expands rapidly due to the heat, causing a small but satisfying explosion they hurl into the air or at each other, giggling as they dodge. Parents are usually careful about the games their children play; a city dweller might fret over their toddlers playing games with toy swords. But a barbarian parent would simply hand them a real one and say, “Go practice.”

The memory arrives too late as the once-frozen water makes contact with the scorching environment. It shatters under the shockwave of force from a fist moving at blurring speeds, and chaos erupts. The ice, once solid and still, suddenly becomes volatile, exploding in a shower of shards and steam. The frozen element is pushed to the brink by the intense heat surrounding it.

The air is now thick with clouds of flames, smoke, sand, and steam, making it difficult to breathe, let alone see.

But then you remember; you can [Teleport].

***

Evan teleported several times in the air, ascending until he reached several meters above the inferno that enveloped half of the desert. From there, he could spot the winged humanoid made of armour in the distance—a dot on the horizon growing closer. He needed to do something, and fast.

Amidst the clouds of smoke and steam, R’Hazul began to speak with a slow and measured tone. "Smoke is like a veil that obscures everything. You must rely on your other senses to navigate through it," he remarked. ” Even now he’s still trying to teach me? Read the room!!! Evan wanted to yell in response, despite the distance between them. He had to resist the impulse, mindful of the damage his burning lungs had received from the scorched air below.

He had been storing kinetic energy this whole time, preferring to dodge the lances of heat and ice and only shattering the ones he couldn't avoid. His bones were practically humming with unreleased energy. He could hear a buzzing in his ears, growing faster and deeper as the energy bounced from point to point, begging to be released. In his vision, the whole world shook and blurred along with his body; his bones vibrating at insane speeds, his muscles visibly rippling and shaking as he hung in the air. He breathed deep from the untainted air around him.

“Who knew steam could be so suffocating?” Evan muttered to himself, relieved to regain his ability to speak. It had been like standing on the edge of an active volcano, every breath he’d had to wrestle from his surroundings.

In the seconds he spent in free fall, his mind worked in overdrive, and Evan formed a plan. He would strike R’hazul with every last ounce of his strength and stored energy, and immediately teleport towards the large dimensional portal. It didn't seem to have a set location as the swirl of images and visible mana continued to shift and warp along its surface. He spotted R’hazul in the heart of the blazing desert, an eye of blue flames inside a swirling circle iris of red and orange fire. Explosions, beams of fire and streaks of steaming ice lanced outwards wherever he turned his gaze, he noted that Esme, Darren and Gideon were nowhere to be seen.

Evan made his move, plummeting towards the earth like a bolt of lightning, his body shaking with energy as R’Hazul spotted him. As Evan fell, he clenched his fists tightly, his muscles contracting and releasing, causing a ripple effect that was visible on the surface of his skin. He began a series of teleports growing faster and faster each second, dodging lances of heat, explosions of flames, planes of superheated sandglass that hurled themselves at Him as R’hazul summoned them, and eventually the talons of the winged armour creature, he could see it all. Soon he was a blur, appearing only for moments as he shot forward before teleporting again, and again, and again. He was a streak of constantly building speed across the flaming sands, teleporting with each breath while gaining more and more momentum in the void between spaces. He could feel the mana slowly depleting from his core, and his body, as the world blurred into lines around him with each new teleport.

Evan focused and felt the world around him slow down, his enhanced synapses firing as his brain operated at extraordinary speed. Even in his accelerated neural state, he was moving so fast that things still appeared as blurs, rapidly passing him by, and the humming in his bones was louder than ever—a deep, ever-present gong. Summoning all his determination, he directed his focus to the heart of the firestorm where R'Hazul stood, and hurled his fist forwards with everything he had before teleporting towards him at blinding speed.

Evan appeared inches from R’hazul, launched from the void, fist moving so fast towards his teacher's face it could barely be seen.

And missed.

R’hazul had somehow seen him in the instant Evan appeared, and dodged, twisting so Evan caught him in the shoulder instead of the chin. The energy racing through his being released in a burst of power, and everything went white.

A massive explosion rocked the desert, the air around them shook with the force of the blow, a wave of energy radiating outwards as giant plumes of sand rose metres in the air. A crater forming around them exposing the rock and sediment beneath, as R’hazul and evan both went flying in different directions.

A single chipped piece of dark metallic flesh, a true Dragons flesh, no larger than a fingernail, fell into the crater.

R’Hazul landed on his feet some distance away sliding across the sands, as Evan did the same.

“You injured me” R’Hazul muttered, as he rose, the low sound of his voice covering the desert “ how long has it been since I last lost flesh?” he continued to himself as he stared at a small chip in his dark collarbone. Then laughter boomed and echoed through the barren desert.

“Hahaha! Amazing! I must have you!” he roared as Lightning began to crackle all over his body.

Evan had had enough. His muscles and bones were aching from the backlash of releasing so much energy at once, and the intense heat emanating from R'hazul's metallic body had singed Evans' fist on impact. He needed to end this and continue his journey.

His teacher now stood, in the centre of a new storm of ice and fire, lightning arcing around him intermittently, leaving streaks across the ground beneath him. He stood still with his arms rising as several spinning panes of superheated glass formed around him from the sands. R’hazul manipulated them to layer in front of each other, one after another, glowing so bright it became hard to miss him in the new sea of fire. Suddenly a beam of light burst forward at frightening speed.

It was so fast Evan barely caught it as his new instincts caused him to shift and turn his body to the side, it was all he could do to avoid the beam of light as the sheer heat from being next to it burned his skin to a crisp.

“So many surprises! Who knows, you might even survive the Extraction Ritual, and manage something even the gods couldn't!” R’hazul continued, as the arcs of lightning multiplied and glassed the sand around him, streaks of heated sandglass rising in the air.

OK, time to go. Evan resolved. Whatever R’hazul truly was, it was beyond Evan. For now.

He would head to a new land, through the portal, and turn his body into an unstoppable force and a true power. Then He would use his [Postcognition], when he'd mastered it more, and he would be back. And when he came back, he would claim every piece of knowledge and jewel of power his teacher had to offer.

A [Teleport] sent Evan high up, and away from the portal, staying only a second before teleporting again, wary of what he’d decided to call the ‘DeathBeamOfAnnoyinglyFastLight™’. The beam of light was shifting wildly as R’hazul turned the panes of sandglass, trying to strike Evan between teleports, but he had no real way of predicting exactly where his student would appear. Evan teleported the final distance to the portal as R’hazul looked away. Within a breath, Evan would be free to begin his ascension, gaining abilities no one in this world but Esme could even dream of.

He appeared in front of the giant portal, hands stretched forwards, fingers inches from being taken to an entirely new plane. He could feel his heart pumping at the endless potential just a breath away.

Then he couldn't feel his heart at all. In front of him was a hand covered in blood protruding from his chest, he turned to see Gideon smiling down at him, and leaning closer towards his ear. Gideon spoke to him.

“See you soon”

Everything went black. Then burst into colour.

Soul of Blades - Chapter 15: Apex Predator

Stood there, in front of the portal, were the last two survivors: the Wolf clan alpha and the Titanape leader.

Both looked as if they were hanging on by a thread, their once intimidating figures now reduced to wounded husks. But they were alive. And they were blocking his path.

Their bodies, both a mass of bruises and wounds, were only holding on by the sheer force of will and, perhaps, the remnants of their pride. The Titanape was missing an arm, riddled with cuts and burns, and the wolf Alpha seemed aged, emaciated.

The ground beneath them was scarred from their battle, and their lifeblood stained the terrain, all signs of their ferocious struggle with the juvenile phoenix.

With a thud that shook the ground, the Titanape drove his massive fist into the Wolf alpha, and with a retaliatory growl, the wolfman's claws raked across the ape's thick hide. The two primal leaders were locked in a deadly dance of survival, too consumed by their combat to notice Alex's approach.

"Guess we aren't done yet," Alex muttered to himself,

He looked down at the broken blade of his sword, contemplating.

The echoes of the Phoenix battle in his vision resonated within him, instilling him with newfound determination. He might not have possessed the celestial prowess he witnessed, but he could try to apply the lessons learned.

He began to draw from the connection to the greater truth infusing his being, attuning himself to the Dao around him. A subtle, warming sensation flowed through him, an energy akin to the life force he saw in Phoenix’s dance. His eyes narrowed, focusing on the duelling titans, sizing them up.

He took a step forward, then another.

As Alex neared the giants, the hum of his Dao grew stronger, more focused. He could almost see it, a shifting veil around him. It didn't make him stronger or faster, but it gave him an unexplainable feeling of purpose and clarity. It was not power, he realized, it was understanding.

He tried to move as the Phoenix did, reaching for the impermanence and fluidity he saw in its dance. Moving in a rhythmic pattern, his footsteps followed an unheard melody that only he could sense.

An errant swipe from the Titanape sent a shockwave his way. Instinctively, he moved with the energy, not against it, redirecting himself and continuing his dance. He wasn't there yet, but he could feel it, the potential within him, the promise of what he could become.

As he moved, he found himself increasingly in tune with his surroundings. He felt the life forces of the Alpha and Titanape, the vibrations of their battle, the energy of the land, even the faint echo of the Phoenix. His awareness extended out, blending with the world around him.

The beginnings of a soft, painful pounding began to ring in his mind, but he ignored it. He couldn't give in to pain, or distractions. Not now.

He closed his eyes and for a moment, he could almost feel it. The web of life, impermanence and changing nature of everything, and he was in the center, feeling both small and immense at the same time.

The pounding in his skull grew stronger, but he pushed through regardless.

The battle before him slowed, not in reality, but in his perception. Each move of the alpha and titanape, every flicker of their energy became a piece of the dance he was learning to master. He didn't seek to control it, but to understand it, to become one with it.

The howl of the Alpha shattered his meditation, and the sharp return to reality nearly took him off his feet. He opened his eyes to the sight of the two giants, locked in a fierce grip. Their struggle had come to a standstill, each waiting for the other to make a fatal mistake.

With a deep, steadying breath, Alex stepped forward. His dance was not yet complete, and he could feel the rhythm of his Dao calling him back to the fray. He no longer had just a sword, but he had something else, something just as sharp and unyielding.

He had his will.

Phoenix leap.

Gyaku Yokomen Uchi… Reverse Horizontal Slash.

Alex's sword cut through the air, swift and precise. The first slash sliced through both monstrous opponents simultaneously, cleaving them apart. Without missing a beat, he reversed the direction of his blade, executing a swift and unexpected second strike, carving a path in the opposite direction, and further rending their weakened bodies.

Weakened and injured, they were defenceless. Their bodies lay in fragmented pieces, shattered remnants of their former strength strewn before the portal.

Alex felt a wave of remorse wash over him as he looked upon the broken bodies of the weakened alphas. Their frail condition made him wonder about their true strength, having somehow survived the brief passing of the Phoenix, even in its juvenile form as a 'world spirit.' How powerful were they really? The question lingered, unanswered, filling the atmosphere with an unspoken heaviness, mixing with his own sense of regret.

[You defeated level 86 Apex Canid Alpha - additional experience points due to the level difference]

[You defeated level 79 Titanape Troop Alpha - additional experience points due to the level difference]

[Floor Quests: Wild Warrior, The Champion, Floor Destroyer, Completed - Floor cleared]

Reward: survivor feat, warrior feat, champion feat, Unique Skill Creation - Unknown grade]

[System Message: Level 23 > Level 27]

[45 unassigned stats - Speak or think ‘Status’ to allocate pending stats]

[2 Classed level stat boosts available]

[Class selection available]

Time-Smith - Chapter 15: Dragons Gift - Part 2

Evan turned to the lab entrance as three people entered.

“I thought you said he was smart?” a female voice chimed from the distance.

R'hazul strode into his laboratory, followed by a stunning woman, and a man, both dressed in strange gear. R'hazul tilted his head towards her “He is, just give him time”.

The first thing Evan was struck by was the woman's eyes. They gleamed like polished chrome, their reflective surfaces seeming to hold the natural sheen of metal within them, capturing and magnifying the surrounding light. She had flowing locks of hair that cascaded down her back and swayed with each movement.

Her companion, on the other hand, was a man of lean build and towering height. He moved with an ease that suggested he was constantly relaxed and comfortable, and had few other natural states.

The second thing he noticed was the garments they wore. The clothing they wore was a curious mix of styles, foreign and exotic, with high-quality materials and intricate designs that suggested great wealth and refinement. They were like the clothes he would see in the wealthy district, except of much higher quality, with more dyes and less pageantry - a fusion of strange and unfamiliar fabrics that clung to the two's bodies. The designs on the fabric were intricate, and the colours were vibrant and seemed to complement each other. The clothing was form-fitting and flattering. The way they moved in their strange clothes was natural and fluid; as if the fabric was made for them.

It was a stark contrast to the armour that Evan was used to seeing, which was heavy, clunky, and utilitarian. These foreign clothes were clearly the work of a master, someone who had evolved their skills many times, and seemed to be made for style as much as function. He wished he could show them to his mother. Evan, despite himself, felt almost annoyed by the luxury and refinement they exuded, he had been led to believe that wealth was only possible through the safety of the city.

Is everyone outside of the city walls just rich? How could they even have that made out here? He wondered. If so, he would, of course, gain wealth too. He would need a few pairs for himself, once he found the answer.

“Evan, my boy, come!” His mentor called out, motioning for Evan to come closer, as his voice boomed across the building way more than it possibly should have.

“Allow me to introduce you to my daughter, Esme,” R’hazul said, gesturing to a young woman who stood at the far end of the room. “And this is her familiar, Darren”.

She bound over to him and gave him a warm hug. “Hey, Evan!” Esme said, her voice ringing out like a bell, "Dad speaks highly of you, It's so nice to meet you!" Evan returned the hug, feeling thrown off guard and surprised he could even feel the weight of her hug, soft as it was. Which was weird, considering his strength had just entered the realm of dragons.

“Evan” Darren said, nodding his head towards him and extending his hand for a shake. Evan took his hand and shook it. “Hi, Darren” His grip was normal, at least.

Evan blinked in surprise, remembering what he’d heard R’hazul refer to him as earlier.

"Her...familiar?" he queried. That was impossible.

"Yeah," Darren said, nodding. "I'm a human from Earth, I was summoned by Esme a while back. I guess you could say I'm her personal assistant.”

"So… you're a familiar?” Evan asked slowly, drawing out each word, “As in a magical creature, beast, and spirit… that's formed a magical bond… and has their soul and essence stored in the skills of a… [Summoner]?" Evan asked, doubt dripping in each syllable as his stare drifted from Darren to Esme Incredulously. He was beginning to question the nature of their relationship. They were deviants. "Oh, I see," Evan said, nodding in faux understanding. "You're one of those couples who like to roleplay as a master and familiar."

Esme turned to face Evan, looking affronted, as Darren guffawed, "Sorry to disappoint you, Evan," Darren said. "But I'm not into that kind of roleplaying.”

"And actually, Evan," Esme began, "Darren is my familiar, but I'm not his master. We're more like partners in crime, or business partners."

“And plus, she's not my type” Darren added, shaking his head.

“I’m everyone's type," Esme replied with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "And besides, I don't need a familiar who's only good for fleeing monsters and making coffee," she added

Darren rolled his eyes and muttered something about being misunderstood, but Evan was too busy trying to wrap his head around the concept of humans being used as familiars to pay much attention.

Oh, Evan thought, So they were being serious. “So your soul is stored inside her skill? Wouldn't that make you re-summonable? Immortal? As long as she's alive?” to Evan, It was just too hard to believe.

Darren grinned. "That's right, buddy. I'm Esme's familiar. Nice to meet you, by the way."

"Nice to meet you too," Evan replied, looking back and forth between the two, still confused. "I always thought familiars were supposed to be, you know, magical beasts?" Evan said, still eyeing Darren skeptically, “and not people” he added.

"But I just look like a regular guy in cosplay, right?" Darren seemed to be enjoying Evan's display “Well, technically”, He gestured, arm sweeping wide across the halls of R’hazuls laboratory “We’re all magical beasts”

Well, he’s got a point there, Evan thought, and ‘cosplay’? What’s up with that? Are these two just obsessed with inventing words every two seconds? Evan could tell from the context, Darren's tone, and expression as he used the word, that it probably referred to some form of ineffectual gear.

Evan felt a smirk forming, but suppressed it. Considering everything he had experienced over the past few days, his idea of the impossible had become more than flexible. He decided to suspend his disbelief, and give them a chance to enlighten him "Familiars are supposed to be animals, beasts or monsters, though. How can you be a human?"

Esme, sensing the change in his body language, smiled. "We get that a lot. We just came from a world where magic and advanced technology coexist, and they still lost their minds. Darren is from Earth, from one of the earlier dimensions I visited. My summoner-type skill and my other dimensional one are blended skills. He’s pretty useless as a familiar but sometimes he pulls through”

“Hey,” Darren looked up from a small meal he’d apparently pulled out of thin air.

"I see," Evan replied, still taking in the new development. Blended skills, skill synergy, and skill evolution were things most people dreamed of, But dimensions?, as in, different planes? Another impossibility. Evans' mind was malfunctioning, but he quickly recovered, sensing an opportunity, "So, what kind of skills do they have on ‘Earth’?"

Darren's grin grew wider. "On Earth? None. But once here? Probably none too. Those are private, my friend. Can't just go blabbing about everything, you know?"

Esme chimed in, her voice like a song. "Don't mind Darren, he's just being modest. He's got some pretty impressive skills."

"Really?" Evan asked, intrigued, He could do with some inspiration for his next biological changes.

Darren chuckled. "Sorry, kid. That's all you're getting from me. You'll have to get to know me better before I spill the beans. Skills, though, huh? the only good thing about this nightmare of a world. Are we staying long?"

“Don't disrespect the home turf” Esme threw a metal construct she'd picked up at Darren, who seemed unfazed as the small mythril ball with black metal casted symbols around it sped toward him. R’hazul glanced back and raised an eyebrow and a hand, as the ball seized in mid-air and now sped towards him, growing arms and legs along the way.

“And no, not really," Esme continued. "We're just helping Dad and Gideon with something before we check out the new place. He wants us to take the new guy to get him some samples. He thinks it'll help Evan develop his Skill. Three birds, one stone.”

They all left the halls of R’hazuls lab and entered the desert, Esme gestured at the empty space beside her. A swirl of mana, sand and flowing wind began to coalesce, spinning faster and faster as it drew upon the magical energies of the world. The shifting winds carried the mana in all directions, forming a vortex of power that pulsed and surged with each passing moment. A large portal was forming. With each passing second, the portal formed and reformed, images of worlds, stars, and planets constantly shifting and blending into a spectrum of colours and sights. Strange beings and contraptions appeared, only to blur into each other the next moment. The portal was a constant motion of infinite possibilities, with no single image staying long enough to truly see. Evan didn’t need anyone to tell him this was a gateway to other dimensions.

He’d assumed they were being honest about their skills, but knowing, and seeing, were two very different experiences.

“This place is something else," He said, marvelling at the sheer amount of magical phenomena and knowledge that surrounded him.

"Isn't it?" Esme said with a smile. "I've grown up here, and with this, but I still find new things every day." Her eyes, like polished silver, reflected the light of the portal in all directions.

Darren nodded his head in agreement. "It’s definitely something”

Esme and Darren turned to Evan, as the portal began to shift, warped images shifting across its form.

“You coming?” They asked, in unison.

Esme placed a hand on Evan's shoulder. "I promise you, we'll be careful. And besides, think of all the new knowledge you could gain from travelling to another dimension."

Evan considered this for a moment. She did have a point. “Okay, I'm in. But what exactly are we doing in this new dimension?”

“You’ll be collecting some minerals and metals for Dad, and once that’s done” Esme's eyes sparkled with excitement. "We’ll be developing my skill, your skill, exploring, hunting, maybe even nothing, it's a new dimension I unlocked so who knows? That's a part of the fun”

Evan's schooled his expression, heart racing at the possibility of foreign beasts and capabilities. "That sounds incredibly dangerous."

Darren & Esme shared a knowing glance Evan couldn't quite read.

He turned to look at R’hazul, who was busy pouring over a pile of scrolls surrounding a large metal humanoid skeleton and muttering to himself under his breath. “I'm ready to leave,” Evan said, feeling a little impatient, he had been inspired by R’hazuls living weapon, and wanted one of his own; he’d need more beasts to study to achieve that, the stranger the better. “what do we do now?” Esme asked her father, as the images of worlds and stars constantly shifted and blended together in her portal.

R’hazul looked up from his work, his eyes narrowing as he considered the question. “We wait,” he said finally, “for Gideon to arrive.”

***

Evan stood in the center of the desert wasteland, his eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of movement, pausing as the sign was found. The sun was beating down on his skin, scorching him with its unrelenting heat. He really needed to work on his resistances, he decided.

As the hot, dry air wafted along the breeze, the four of them stood waiting for the new arrival that had appeared in the distance. Evan could feel the sand shift beneath his boots as the newcomer approached.

They continued to watch as a figure drew closer, walking towards them across the shifting sands of the desert. Even from this distance, he could feel the intensity of the newcomer's presence, an energy that seemed to draw all attention with each confident step and measured movement, the desert landscape seemed to fade in vibrancy, and Evan could almost swear he could see the figure's eyes from this impossible distance. It was difficult to look away, as if his own eyes were drawn by a powerful almost magnetic force.

Each step the newcomer took was deliberate, the heavy sound of his footsteps impacting into the sand causing a thud. He was muscular, his frame imposing and powerful, in contrast to the fluidity of his movements that suggested a perfect control of his form. His pointed ears marked him as one of the elves, a muscular one at that, but not much else. His eyes though, were strange. They seemed to shift and change with every new angle, reflecting the light like a kaleidoscope. One moment they were the swirling colours of the magical portal beside them, the next they were the cold, hard metal of a machine, and with the next movement, a star, a nebula, or another land. What skill is that? Evan wondered.

Evan could see him clearly now. So this was R’hazul's son, Gideon.

As he drew closer towards the four, to stand in front of them, the sand around Gideon shifted and swirled, as though it were alive and dancing to Gideon’s every step. Evan watched in amazement as the grains of sand rose and fell in time with his movements, creating patterns that seemed to shift and change with every passing moment. He must weigh a ton. Or have some skill that drastically increases his density, Evan mistakenly thought.

When Gideon finally arrived, he stood tall and looked from Esme, to R’hazul, his eyes seeming to penetrate their very souls. He said nothing, a comfortable silence filled by his presence. R'hazul stepped forward and put a hand on Gideon's shoulder. "Son," he said, his voice full of pride. "It is good to see you."

“And you, Father. Esme” He replied, his voice devoid of emotion.

"And I'm assuming the boy is the genius enigma you found, Father" he said, his eyes flicking over each of them in turn, the bass and chime of his voice still devoid of emotion.

Gideon nodded towards Esme while he responded, but his eyes turned to become fixed on Evan. He seemed to be assessing him, judging him.

Esme stepped forward then, a smile on her face. "Gideon," she said, her voice warm and welcoming. "It's good to see you too."

Gideon's eyes flicked toward her, but they quickly returned to Evan. There was something in his gaze that made Evan feel uncomfortable, like he was being studied under the weight of his own skill. He felt as if every cell and strand of his being was being scrutinised by that strange constantly changing gaze. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, feeling awkward at the sudden attention.

“Oh wow, you have three skills.” emotion and animation crept into Gideon as he regarded Evan.

“And you're not really here, are you? I had wondered why everything was so weird here. Is this your own dimension? I wonder what happens to it when you leave?” Gideon then took an animated step forward, the sand shifting and rumbling around them under the weight of his step.

Evans' jaw went slack.

Then, the homunculi smiled “...you know what… that's really interesting. I think I’ll find you when you get back”.

A silence hung in the air as they seemed to digest his words.

R’hazul paused, slowly turning to face Evan beside Esme, and narrowed his eyes. Esme and Darren didn't seem to care about the revelation and were engaged in a conversation of their own.

R’hazul raised a finger.

R’hazul’s finger twitched, and a beam of pure heat ripped across the space between them. The sand beneath them parted violently in arched waves before turning to glass, travelling halfway towards Evan in less than a second. It was aiming for his legs.

Evan's heart seized in his chest “wha-”

Time seemed to freeze as Evan processed what was coming towards him.

His newly enhanced reflexes & draconian musculature reacted before he had even finished processing the danger and he leapt out of the way, shooting across the sand, sending waves of sand and dust scattering in all directions as the scorching beam of heat sliced past, completely missing its target.

“You're fast, much faster!” R’hazul said, with interest, re-assessing Evan.

Flames appeared beneath R’hazul’s feet as he rocketed towards Evan, immediately crossing the distance, intent on catching his suddenly more interesting test subject.

Evan cocked back his fist and charged as much energy as he could in the milliseconds before R’hazul would be in front of him, and his arm whipped forward, lightning-fast. The two combatants collided in a thunderous crack of sound and sand, with Evan's fist slamming into R'hazul's chest, sending him flying backward through the air.

“And strong!” R’hazul yelled with glee as he flew backwards through the air. He dug his hand into the sands to arrest his momentum, sliding to a stop with a heavy thud, and flung himself back towards Evan. As he soared through the air, his armour transformed into a strange, winged humanoid, leaping off him in concert.

The air sizzled with mana and heat as R’Hazul lunged at Evan, his form low towards the sand, his dark metallic body glinting in the light of the hot sun and the flames beneath his feet as he drew closer. Evan’s eyes narrowed, taking in the form of the metal-armour creature descending on him from above its owner. It rushed towards Evan, its metal wings held still as it streaked across the hot air. He would need to take it out first. Evan leapt, a streak of sand rising into the air, as he charged and built as much energy as he could while soaring upwards. He teleported before the creature, catching it by surprise, and flesh impacted on metal as they clashed. Evan unleashed a wicked hook with everything he had, as a loud shockwave resounded through the desert, throwing sand back in all directions as the armour went soaring. But Evan knew it would be back.

“That punch must've been 400 miles per hour!” The molten smile on R’hazuls face seemed to grow with every exchange. He leapt off the ground with a heavy thud, an explosion of sand and fire hurling him upwards to meet Evan in the air.

“I was going to let you go,” He yelled, as the flames beneath him turned from orange to red, then to blue “A human with dragon physiology, but you're actually so much more!”

Evan teleported towards the ground, landed in a plume of sand, and leapt, triggering another use of his skill to bring him instantly soaring up beneath R’hazul, his arm cocked back. His agility and altered bone structure had allowed him to move with incredible speed. R'hazul blocked Evan's punch with his metallic arm, creating a ringing sound that echoed through the barren wasteland.

“Why fight? We’ll get you back to my laboratory!” The dragon called, the strange quality and chime to his voice seeping into Evan. His words were beginning to sound reasonable.

Hmm, that's not so bad...Why am I even fighting him? Evan wondered.

They both fell through the air, landing on the ground some distance from each other. Evan glanced towards the portal to another dimension, considering just taking his chances and leaving. Coming to a decision, He started heading for the portal.

R’hazul called out from across the dunes, his low voice still carrying more volume than should have been possible “Once we're back, we'll find out how to strengthen your cells with mana, breaking past their limits.”

That's possible!? Evan slowed down. Maybe I should go with him? He wasn't such a bad guy after all. Evan thought, he was only a few paces away from the portal now.

Crack.

Evan deflected a large shard of ice that had suddenly appeared in front of him. The resulting shockwave erasing the foreign mana from his system, clearing his senses. Wait, what the hells was I thinking? His voice! But how?! That's not even a skill!? The jarring transition in his thoughts had alerted him to the nagging feeling he’d had ever since he had met R’hazul, and the strangeness of his voice.

R’hazul had completely blocked the entrance to the portal with a thick pane of ice the melted with each second in the desert.

“Stop manipulating me!” Evan yelled, before teleporting towards his assailant once more.

“You're a success, Evan, much better than what I'd hoped for” R’hazul continued, waves of mana still extending from his voice as an explosion of heat rocked the sand where Evan had just stood. R'hazul continued his barrage.

As Evan drew closer, landing in front of him, a combination of leaps, twists, and teleports evaded the flames, ice, and grasp of his mentor. His body moved in ways that should have been impossible, twisting and turning in mid-air as he deflected R’Hazul’s attacks. The sand beneath their feet had been reduced to a glassy, obsidian-like substance, a clear sign of the heat and power that R’Hazul wielded. The air was thick with smoke and dust, making it hard to see anything clearly. And yet, Evan kept fighting, each blow sending a jolt of energy racing through his body.

“We'll schedule extraction, and dissection after that!” R’Hazul roared, his voice ringing out like a furnace. Waves of heat radiated out from him, the sand boiling beneath his feet. Evan barely managed to deflect a massive shard of ice that appeared out of nowhere, the shockwave from the impact throwing sand, steam, and debris up into the air, obscuring his vision.

Right. Evan thought, Hells no to that.

***

“What's up with them?” Darren asked Esme, shielding his eyes from the explosion

“Dunno, Dad's doing ‘Dad’ stuff. Mad scientist is kind of like, his whole vibe,” she shrugged, metallic eyes gleaming behind her sunglasses.

Darren looked on, He was surprised Evan was lasting so long.

Time-Smith - Chapter 14: Dragons Gift - Part 1

Evan sat in the middle of the magical laboratory's halls, his eyes closed as he reviewed the changes he had made to his body. A slow, self-satisfied smile crept across his face as he took in the full extent of his new abilities. He had been locked up in R'hazul's laboratory for three consecutive days, studying the preserved draconian corpses around him with a singular focus. He sat cross-legged on the cool stone floor, surrounded by books, mirrors, scrolls, and a dragon corpse lying in front of him, beside another, slightly different corpse. Sweat dripped down his face. After completing the final modifications to his body, the strain was starting to take its toll. His muscles ached, and his mind was foggy from the intense concentration he had needed to pull off this feat. He rubbed his eyes and yawned, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over him. He had barely slept and hated cramming; without the right skills, it was pointless. But this had been oh so worth it.

He exhaled in a huff, and closed his eyes, focusing on the dragon's anatomy, and his own. He could feel every minute change he had made.

"Wow," he said, opening his eyes and flexing his new muscles, testing his newfound strength "I think I might have outdone myself this time." It felt like he could lift the whole building now, like he had the [Unbreakable] skill every warrior dreamed of having. He looked at his reflection in a nearby mirror and couldn't help but to let out a laugh.

"I still look like a damn kid" he muttered to himself, grinning from ear to ear. Only he knew what truly lay beneath the surface of his flesh.

As he examined his new body, he noticed something strange. His eyes were glowing, a deep red hue emanating from his pupils. He blinked, trying to shake off the feeling, but the glow persisted. He focused and could sense no biological reason for the glow.

"What the hells?" he muttered, confused. Wondering what had caused this, his thoughts went back to the past three days.

At first, he had made progress. He'd strengthened his nerves and muscles, almost doubling ten years' worth of work in just twenty four hours. He had decided to focus on muscle quality and reaction time rather than size and increased the number and density of contracting muscle fibers until they resembled those of a juvenile dragon. I have baby dragon strength now, He laughed at the thought. He could generate a massive amount of force and had hardly changed in size. He felt as if he had the [Relentless Strength] skill every youth prayed for. And the changes to his nerves had caused his reflexes to greatly improve, he was faster than he had ever been and could rival any person with [Swift Parry], if he focused. And when he focused, he could see every detail of things in motion, watching a grain of sand making its journey through the wind, before catching it, lightning quick between his fingers. He could grasp everything in an instant, his mind parsing through the information in a moment, and his muscles and joints moving even faster to keep up with its commands.

By the second day, he had been having trouble getting all of the changes to work, one new aspect or change would throw his body’s whole system off, and two had caused a cascading effect of organ failure that almost took his life. He was stumped, he had almost considered just settling for the dragon's scales or fire glands and calling it a day.

That was until he studied the Chimaera. Then, inspiration hit him like a ton of bricks.

Its body was a perfect blend of a majestic Angelum, the powerful bone structure of a Wyvern, and the fierce paws of the cat-like Duskstalker. The soft fur on its body was a combination of white and gold, with dark streaks, each strand glistening in the low light. He was mesmerized by the seamless fusion of different creatures, by how all of these foreign elements were blended seamlessly together, and how each part of the creature seemed to complement the others, creating a new form of life with a new purpose. It was as if each element had been chosen specifically for its unique qualities and combined to create something greater than the sum of its parts. The way the cat-like skin and fur merged and blended with the Angelums wings, the stripes of colour across its form, and hard scales underneath, the sharp claws and teeth of a predator, and the sleek form of a hunter all combined to form a unique and deadly being never seen before.

He had been thinking too small. Why settle for just copying the natural capabilities of monsters? He could change his very being, and become anything he wanted, with his new understanding, and control, he could alter cells in a multitude of new ways. Why not take everything he’d learned and make something completely new?

By the third day, Evan had succeeded. Not only had he strengthened himself to a level he hadn’t thought possible, he had taken it even further. Taking inspiration from the Chimaera, he created specialised muscle tissue, proteins, and structures that were capable of storing and releasing kinetic energy rapidly. Now that he had changed the genetic code of his muscle cells and increased their contractile force and efficiency, he could generate more power with each movement. His dense bones provided a strong foundation for the muscles to push against. He had added hinges to his fist that resembled a dragon's jaw, and he now had a snapping, crushing grip that could bend and warp steel. He then focused the design of his structure on several points; his joints, and his fists.

By contracting his muscles with maximum force and applying his energy to his bones, he could create a shockwave that travelled through his body, redirecting his energy in an instant, and if he chose to, creating massive shockwaves.

His punches were now faster than arrows, amplified by his altered bone structure; a series of spines, hinges, jaws, and mandibles spread throughout his body’s interior. He was now faster than a person with [Swift Strike].

The shockwave would be amplified by his altered bone structure, causing it to reverberate and grow stronger as it instantly moved through his body, or if he chose, bounced from point to point and continued to grow in strength until he released it.

Finally, when the shockwave reached his fists, it would be released in a powerful burst of energy and sound. And he couldn't wait to try it out.

The outer layers of his muscles were made of interlocking layers of a mineralized material, the same found in dragon bones and teeth, He had reinforced the outer fibers with fibers of dragon scales, a tough and flexible material. His muscle tissue was as strong and resilient as the scales of a young dragon. The changes he’d made to keep them light and flexible as muscle had made them weaker than an adult dragon scales, but any blade angle towards him would not cut deep at all. He had implemented the dragon's breath: two small glands in his neck producing the chemicals, which, when combined, released a spray of dragon flame from his mouth. The heat was enough to turn blades to slag under a focused breath, but not much more. And burned his skin, but not the dragonscale muscle-fibers beneath. To be honest it was pretty impractical, he just thought it was cool.

He twisted his arms and skin, admiring the new tapestry of deep and dark red scars that crisscrossed all over his form. His body was now a canvas of scars and taut wireframe muscle; marble-like cords of intricately woven dragon scale fibers were woven and stretched into tight cords of protective muscle beneath the map of scar tissue. He could heal and remove all of the scars, with the regeneration of his new blastema cells, and did to the ones on his face, but he couldn't resist leaving the rest. He thought it made him look like a seasoned hunter, like the many he had admired, scarred through the experience of battles and evolution. Observing his new toughness, he felt as though he had his own [Steel Hide] skill. Evan was ecstatic.

With his acquisition of the Wyrm-Wyvern's blastema cells, He knew he was only one beast away from using the regeneration cells to being able to create a clone of himself, he would have to ask R’hazul about that. He was looking forward to the coming days, with every moment he spent observing these creatures his understanding and potential for growth would grow to new heights. By the end of the month, he would be able to create things nobody had ever seen before. When he returned to the present he would be prepared to gather the artifacts around the City, and at some point, he would need to build his own lab, to take his capabilities to the next level.

Project ‘BetterBody™’ was a success, and had now become project ‘BabyDragon™’.

Or was it project ‘‘BetterChimearaBody™’ now? Evan mused. Nah, better to just stick with BetterBody, he concluded.

As he stood there, he could now feel the kinetic energy coursing through him, just waiting to be unleashed. He closed his fists and entered a stance, not quite sure what he was doing, and focused. Feeling the energy quickly building up inside him. With an instant burst of motion, he lashed out with his fist, lightly, only releasing a small amount of energy, not wanting to cause too much damage. And still, his fist snapped out and struck the air with incredible speed and force, as a cracking sound followed. The resulting shockwave rippled through the air, sending a gust of wind through the room.

Evan cackled, revelling in his own brilliance. "They said it couldn't be done," he said, his eyes sparkling with delight. "They said I was mad. But who's laughing now, eh?" Of course, nobody had said this, but Evan believed that acknowledging his accomplishments was a key part of success. He looked up to admire the deep red of a dragon's fiery breath that he had caused to emanate from his laughter. He was feeling quite good. And plus, he was alone.

“I thought you said he was smart?” a female voice chimed from the distance

Evan turned to the lab entrance as three people entered.

R'hazul strode into his laboratory and approached, followed by a stunning woman, and a man, both dressed in strange gear. R'hazul tilted his head towards her “He is, just give him time”.

“Allow me to introduce you to my daughter, Esme,” R’hazul called, gesturing to the young woman who stood at the far end of the room.

Soul of Blades - Chapter 14: Respite

Alex stood at the edge of the summit, his gaze sweeping across the chaotic landscape. The aftermath of the battle lay scattered before him. The smoke veiled his view of the island landscape, the endless sea, and stars above. He stared at the jungle, his eyes tracing the path of the fire as it leapt from tree to tree, more ravenous than before.

Deadly silence reigned.

He blinked, forcing his eyes away from the fiery devastation, bodies of wolfmen and Titanapes lay strewn across the mountainside and jungle, victims of a devastating force. Some were molten statues encased in hardened lava, their last moments frozen forever; others lay sprawled across the mountainside, their lives extinguished as abruptly as they had been ignited, still, lifeless. His eyes found the scorched remnants of the wolf clan's camp, a mere shadow of its former vitality. Once a buzzing hub of life and energy, it now lay in ruins, decimated and unrecognisable.

A thick grey curtain of smoke obscured his vision. Somewhere beyond it lay the portal, a beacon calling him to freedom. The island was in ruins, a morbid painting of death and destruction, craters both small and gargantuan, littered the jungle in a trail leading to the portal. And here he was, a single spark of life amidst the shifting carnage. He remembered Plantie, the carnivorous flora, and hoped it had survived somehow.

A sigh slipped past his lips.

Yet amongst the destruction, no sign of the pack leaders. No hint of the juvenile phoenix. Relief washed over him. A battle against such a force would be... daunting.

The thought of facing such a creature, given what he had just witnessed, sent a shudder coursing through his body. If such levels of power existed, he had to become stronger. Incomparably stronger.

His journey back was eerily quiet, no creatures stirred, their remains lay strewn about the mountain, an eerie silence hung heavy in the air, a brutal testament to the calamity that had taken place. He trod carefully among the bodies, weaving through the sea of corpses, his sword held high, ready to strike should a monster lunge out from the deathly stillness.

His gaze constantly shifted, scanning his surroundings, warily aware that survivors might still lurk in the shadows. But there were none. Only death welcomed him.

Death that would eventually empower the soil and create life.

His thoughts lingered on the phoenix. Those sword techniques…

Hazy memories of his vision filled his mind. The Phoenix. The battle. The immortal masters. Their power was unparalleled, unlike anything he had seen or experienced in his life. He thought of his grandfather's teachings, the echoes of a past life resonating with the Phoenix's path. A path that he now walked.

The immortal masters were a blur in his mind, the raw power, technique and feats he witnessed a swirling vortex of impossibilities. But the phoenix... its movements were ingrained in his memory, echoing in the depth of his soul. Karmic Blade Dance, Samsara’s Fury, the Cessation Strike.

Nothing in his kendo training had ever hinted at such techniques. No books, lessons, videos, scrolls, no whispered legends. The techniques were transcendent, impossible, baffling in their complexity yet beautiful in their execution. As he descended the mountain, he attempted to emulate those moves, incorporating his enhanced stats and spatial awareness.

The old masters used their divine artifacts, formation arrays, bloodline abilities. But the Phoenix, it had only its blade and an unyielding spirit. And yet, it had triumphed. He vaguely remembered not sensing any mana during the battle… How had they not used magic and still been so overwhelmingly powerful?

Could the Dao achieve such power?

The thought sent a thrill down his spine. His Dao, the path of True Immortality. If he walked this path... what heights could he reach?

As he entered the jungle, his thoughts turned to his Dao, and the vision of Phoenix and the immortal masters, their techniques continued to flash before his eyes.

Their footwork, the evasion, the powerful kicks, the flurry of sword strikes. Their moves were etched into his mind. He adopted a stance, his feet steady, his grip firm.

He exhaled a deep breath. Then another.

The first strike was swift. His blade cut through the air, the sound rang true in the otherwise silent jungle. It was a simple kendo strike, a horizontal slash. The next move, a vertical cut. The rhythm was slow at first, his movements measured and precise. But as he continued, his pace quickened. The sword became an extension of his arm, moving in a blur of metal.

He leapt into the air, a move he’d never dared before. His body spun mid-air, and he slashed downwards. It was a reckless move, a desperate attempt to replicate the Phoenix's acrobatics. But he landed on his feet, his sword pointing forwards.

He focused on his connection to the truth of immortality, not the illusion that the masters held, but his own dao.

Swiftly, he moved, leaping forward, his sword a blur of motion. He mimicked their movements, their grace, their power. He was no immortal master, no phoenix, but he was a warrior. Each strike he unleashed carried the essence of impermanence, for he understood that true immortality lay not in physical longevity but in liberation from the cycle of birth and death. As his strikes reverberated in the silence, creating echoes, they formed a barrage of profound teachings, a whirlwind of destruction rooted in the impermanence of existence. With every practiced strike, his blade whistled through the air, continuing to leave behind afterimages of swirling destruction. Though he knew he was still far from the harmonious fury witnessed in his visions, the images of the battle stored in his memory drove him forward on the path of understanding, liberation, and enlightenment.

Yet, it was still miles away from the harmonious fury he'd witnessed. The blurred fragments of that vision faded with every passing moment, but the lessons it taught, they were etched into his soul.

The ground crumbled beneath his feet, his trajectory altering from branch to branch, mimicking the celestial beings' aerodynamic prowess. Each leap, each strike was an attempt to capture that uncanny grace he had witnessed. His movements began to flow like water, no longer bound by earthly restrictions.

Then, something clicked. A shift. Subtle, but powerful.

His blade danced through the air, slashing at invisible enemies. A new rhythm pulsed in his veins, one that mirrored the Phoenix’s lethal ballet. And with that rhythm came understanding.

Each movement could disrupt the spiritual balance of his opponents, forcing them to confront their negative karma and suffer the consequences, ultimately leading to their demise. Each successful hit could unravel their life force, consigning them to oblivion and ensuring their permanent liberation from the cycle of suffering.

The strikes offered him a fleeting glimpse of enlightenment, hinting at a distant chance to break free from the perpetual cycle.

He could see it, the way his energy intertwined with his movements. It was raw, primitive compared to the Phoenix's elegance, but it was a start.

In the solitude of the jungle, Alex danced. A whirlwind of bronze, a specter in the night. His form shifted, mimicking the masters, the phoenix. Leaping off trees, pirouetting mid-air, he became a storm, a maelstrom of razor-sharp wind. Kendo merged with the dance of immortals, forming something new.

Something uniquely his.

Phoenix leap.

In a blink, he shot forward, his sword slicing in an arc. He spun in mid-air, evading an imaginary foe, his body twisting, defying gravity. He landed, a cyclone of destruction, his blade tearing through the silence, echoing the Phoenix's karmic dance.

The force of his strike shook the earth, shattering his blade, trees toppled over in a wave, sliced cleanly in two, creating a clearing in the dense jungle far larger than the length of his sword. He stood there, in the aftermath, his breath heavy, his body trembling from exertion. His eyes were wide, his mind in a state of shock.

How had he done that?

He was unsure, but still, he had done it. He had mimicked them. It was crude, nowhere near the elegance and power of the Phoenix and the immortals, but he had done it. A surge of victory rushed through him, his heart pounding in his chest.

His gaze turned to become locked onto the distant portal. But his sword - the bronze weapon he had relied on - lay shattered on the ground. With a sigh, he moved on.

The walk to the portal was silent, save for the occasional crackling of distant flames. He walked past molten bodies, through decimated camps, past the craters left by the Phoenix's rebirth, and found another bronze sword on the corpse of a wolfman, although this one was broken at the tip. Yet, amidst the desolation, there was a certain tranquillity. The chaos of the past seemed muted, reduced to mere whispers by the roaring flames.

He continued to head towards the portal.

And as he arrived, he discovered the Wolf clan alpha and the hulking, giant titanape leader in front of it.

Badly wounded.

But alive.