GodlySkeleton

Soul of Blades - Chapter 13: The Dao

[Consume?]

"Yes," Alex said, his voice barely heard in the swirling wind.

It shot towards him, covering him in an instant, seeping into his clothes, his eyes, nose, and mouth.

The last thing Alex saw as the ashes engulfed him was the system panel twitching, buzzing, and glitching. It turned blood red to display an unreadable message.

[ ̷̳̮̏̄͝͠d̶̺̆͜͠s̸̡̽̚͠'̵̢̟͖̞̀͆t̸͇̾̃̌̕i̶̧̹̽̈́̋̚ ̷̱̑̽̂̚s̷̯̲̅͐͜͝i̶̻̅̔͋ͅh̸̨̬͙̓t̶̢͎̖̦͊͂]

Oh shi- he panicked.

Then everything went black.

***

The quiet of the canyon was shattered as ten figures descended from the sky. Each bore an air of superiority, of celestial power, their eyes cold as they gazed at the lone figure before them.

An old man sat cross-legged at the mouth of the canyon, his eyes closed, seemingly oblivious to the impending danger. His body seemed frail, as if a gust of wind might sweep him away, but an aura of serenity radiated from him, an immovable mountain amidst the chaos of the world.

"Phoenix, we have come for your head," the leader of the ten immortals declared.

The old man, Phoenix, opened his eyes slowly. His gaze was deep, a gaze that had seen epochs pass, yet retained an impish spark. Their demand was clear—his head for stealing their sect's valuable resources; a batch of higher worlds. They believed it was their birth-right, as cultivators- as members of the empire, to rule over all who were different, who they deemed lesser. They called him a 'spirit beast', or in ages past, a 'Mythical Beast'. They believed him to be a beast, a resource, something to be consumed. At the thought, he held back a chuckle.

To him, such distinctions are without point. Aren't men- humans, beasts? The cultivators need for separation baffled him. They are all connected, some more than others, but all the same. Despite his aged form and vision, Phoenix felt almost as though he could see completely through them, The 'immortals' high above.

The old man, the 'beast', found humor in the paradox of the immortals before him - beings who had used Qi to cheat mortality and attain a state of unchanging permanence. In his timeless gaze, Phoenix saw an unnatural state of existence; a suspension of the natural law of change, the ebbs and flows of life. From his position on the precipice of time, Phoenix mused at the immortal's futile rebellion against the cycle of existence. Their forms restructured into something unyielding and everlasting, their bodies becoming the embodiment of Qi itself, unaffected by time or mortal constraints.

How foolish.

To be so unyielding, unchanging. As they shackle countless worlds through the unrivalled supremacy of their path. To face heavenly tribulations in pursuit of a path of stasis. They believe they have reached the peak of power, not knowing they stand at its precipice.

His mind wandered to a memory from epochs past, when the Empire was in its infancy, when Qi, mana, and the Dao were not yet shackled by imperial decree. Back then, the energies of the universe flowed free, the cultivators not blinded by fear, and the need for power and dominion. He remembered how the universe had thrummed in resonance with the freedom of its energies, the violently incompatible clashes of mana, magic, and Qi. Many sought to harness both, none succeeded, and all died with horrific immediacy, returning to samsara. They believed one energy to be superior to the other, the fools. Their rigid ways, and their infernal 'System', had stained history.

As Phoenix's gaze remained fixated on the immortal, his thoughts drifted towards the Martial Empire. The Empire, which once stood for the principles of cultivation and ascendance, had now become a monolith of control and manipulation. The control over Qi, mana, and magic, all tools once used to guide the cultivators towards understanding the Dao, had turned into leashes to keep the realms in check.

A sigh escaped his lips unbidden. The grand design of the cosmos had been distorted. The universal essence that breathed life into existence had been warped into a chain, denying beings their right to touch Qi, and most important of all; to touch the Dao. Yet in the midst of all this, Phoenix felt a shred of hope. After all, barring someone from the Dao was as impossible as stopping the river from reaching the sea. The Dao was omnipresent. It was only a matter of time before the true nature of existence asserted itself, as unyielding and everlasting as the Empire believed themselves to be.

And now they wanted his head, for freeing worlds under their heel. "The head of a phoenix is as hard to grasp as the wind," he retorted, his voice echoing across the canyon, "as fleeting as the life of a mortal."

Laughter filled the air, cruel and full of scorn. "Anything can be killed, old man. Even you."

The battle began.

The ten immortals lunged at Phoenix. They moved like dragons, swift and graceful, their celestial weapons reflecting the fading sunlight. Phoenix remained seated, an amused smile tugging at his lips.

A sword struck, and Phoenix moved. A flicker of motion, as if reality folded around him. A phantom amongst the onslaught.

The leader of the immortals snarled, slashing at him with his divine sword. Phoenix’s hand moved. Faster than thought, he reached out and caught the blade in his bare hand. His laughter rang out, shrill and unexpected. The sword shattered.

Shock rippled through the immortals. Before they could react, Phoenix moved. The ground beneath him erupted as he surged forward. The air twisted, reality warping as he launched himself at his attackers.

His movements were a melody of destruction. Each stroke, each step was timed to perfection. Each attack, a glimpse into his mastery. Every breath, a declaration of his defiance.

One after the other, he wounded several of the immortals. The canyon echoed with their screams of rage. Still, Phoenix moved, unstoppable, a force of nature.

The immortals fought back, their eyes burning with determination. This was their chance for retribution. They could not fail. Divine artifacts were wielded, formation arrays drawn, bloodline abilities unleashed. They fought like gods at war.

Phoenix stood in the eye of the storm, calm as still water. His body moved in ways that defied logic, a dance of devastation. He was a phoenix, a creature of rebirth, of life, of change.

A sword pierced his heart.

Time seemed to slow, Phoenix's laughter lingering in the air. He looked down at the blade protruding from his chest, then at the immortal wielding it, a grim smile etched on his face. "So, this is death," Phoenix murmured. His body crumpled to the ground, life fleeing from him.

The immortals watched in silence as Phoenix's body disintegrated, his form becoming ashes in the wind.

Then, the ashes began to move. A whirlwind formed, swirling with energy. The immortals stepped back, their expressions turning to shock. From the whirlwind emerged a figure, reborn, renewed.

Phoenix was back, younger, and his eyes burned with a fierce, undying light.

The immortals braced themselves, forming a defensive line as Phoenix, reborn and vibrant, stood before them, his form a beacon of life in the looming twilight. The tattoo on his left hand, formed from the swirling remnants of his own ashes, pulsed with a divine glow.

One of the immortals stepped forward, his arrogance barely concealed. He raised his celestial weapon high, slicing it through the air and into the heart of the canyon. A shattering crash boomed, and for miles the very earth split asunder. The immortal's power had left a deep scar across the landscape, a mark of violence that would forever tarnish the beauty of the canyon.

Yet, Phoenix remained unfazed.

His grip tightened around the hilt of his sword, a weapon born of eternal existence. The Blade of Eternity. With it, he would sever the cycle of birth and death, ensuring the liberation of his opponents from their suffering. His eyes burned with the calm resolve of a warrior undeterred, the tranquillity of a storm's eye amidst the tumultuous winds of battle.

With a leap, Phoenix closed the distance between himself and the scarred canyon. He twisted his body mid-air, spinning like a cyclone as he unsheathed his sword. The Blade of Eternity ignited into radiant life, its fiery aura a symbol of its wielder's indomitable spirit.

Phoenix struck.

His sword cut through the canyon's scar, his swing so powerful it reverberated throughout the immortals' formation. It was a Karmic Rift, a swing so potent it disrupted the flow of time and space, opening temporary dimensional rifts that allowed Phoenix to strike his adversaries from multiple angles simultaneously.

An immortal fell, his divine essence snuffed out as the Blade of Eternity cleaved through him. Phoenix pressed his advantage, his movements a blinding whirlwind of relentless aggression. He was power incarnate, a force of life that would not be extinguished.

Again, Phoenix struck.

The immortal who had scarred the canyon moved to intercept, but Phoenix's Blade of Eternity was faster, burning through the air in a devastating arc. The Blade of Eternity tore through the immortal, its eternal essence severing the ties of his life force. The immortal crumbled, his form dissipating into a cascade of divine energy that the wind swept away.

One by one, Phoenix cut them down, his fiery wrath undiminished, his swordplay precise and ruthless. His strikes mirrored the swift and lethal precision of a hunting falcon, each one promising imminent destruction.

Another slash.

Phoenix's sword blazed with incandescent fury as it swept across the battlefield. His opponents recoiled from its radiant brilliance, their divine artifacts powerless against the might of the Phoenix. The karmic power of the Phoenix's sword eclipse their existence, stripping away the traces of their past actions and accelerating their journey towards liberation.

Yet another one fell.

The sword moved of its own volition, a conductor guiding the symphony of destruction. It ripped through the fabric of existence, severing opponents from their mortal coils. Their divine essences were released, extinguishing like candles in the winds of a storm.

Phoenix, at the heart of this storm, was unstoppable. His flame seared his opponents, purifying their karma and liberating them from the cycle of existence. His ethereal wings flapped, their flames carrying him above the canyon, his form outlined against the dying embers of the sunset.

His divine gaze surveyed the battlefield, the ashen remains of the fallen immortals scattered across the torn earth. His rebirth had given him a new perspective, a new understanding of his existence, and a newfound respect for the impermanence of life.

Victory was his.

***

A profound silence blanketed the mountaintop as Alex stood rooted in place, his heart pounding uncontrollably against the rhythm of the universe. He felt as if he had been swept up in the midst of a celestial whirlwind, gazing upon an eternal conflict that spanned the chasm of time and space.

[Dao detected - Dao assigned: The Dao of Regeneratio-]

"No." Alex murmured, his voice firm, rejecting the path that the system had prematurely assigned him. His mind was still occupied by the vision, filled with the echoes of a monumental battle. His spirit still resonated with the intensity of Phoenix's pursuit of true immortality, a concept so profound it transcended the confines of physical existence.

Cloaked figures resembling ancient China, celestial beings wielding immense power that could shake the earth to its core, had fallen one by one before Phoenix. They had sought immortality, a perpetuity of life, never-ending. But Phoenix had shown them another path. A path that suggested the pursuit of immortality wasn't in the preservation of the self, but in the liberation from it.

The Dao of Phoenix did not align with the pursuit of literal, eternal life. Instead, it resonated with the cessation of suffering, the liberation from the cycle of birth, death, and rebirth. His eyes, full of ancient wisdom and blazing courage, had faced his adversaries, bearing the essence of his enlightenment. He was the embodiment of the deathless state, a symbol of ultimate freedom from the mortal coil.

[Dao detected - Dao assigned: The Dao of the immo-]

"No," Alex declared again, his tone resolute. He was not seeking an endless life, he sought true immortality as the Phoenix did - a transcendence from suffering through enlightenment.

His eyes closed as he immersed himself in the echoing remnants of the vision, the Phoenix’s Blade of Eternity disrupting the fabric of reality. The rifts it created were not mere physical wounds, they were profound glimpses, disruptions in the cycle of existence. Each swing was a step toward liberation, a progression toward a state of deathlessness, a stride on the Noble Eightfold Path he had once been taught in his younger days.

His thoughts returned to his grandfather, to the old man's teachings on religion and the Eightfold Path. He had listened but never taken them seriously, always preferring to train or spend the little time he was allowed to roam free, with his friends. But now, alone, in this foreign world, he would give anything to sit through one of his grandfathers lectures. They had always seemed to mirror the Phoenix's path. A path that had been with him even before the system, before his own rebirth. The endless cycle of life and death, of suffering and rebirth, and the pursuit of liberation from this cycle, rang true in his heart now more than ever. He felt as though its lessons had been with him his whole existence.

A red, bold message manifested before his eyes.

[True Dao detected - Dao identified: The Dao of True Immortality - Early Stages Detected. Progress: 0.01%]

This time, there was no opportunity, no choice to reject. The acceptance was already woven into the very fabric of his being.

In the wake of the message, a strange, exhilarating sense of connection bloomed within him. A connection with something beyond himself, beyond the dungeon, and beyond the world of Pyra. A weight, like that of the universe itself, seeped into him, humbling yet empowering. He felt attuned to the true nature of existence, to the deathless state of Nirvana. A path towards enlightenment, towards true immortality, had opened before him.

And as he stood there, atop the mountain summit, beneath the endless expanse of the cosmos, Alex took his first step.

Time-Smith: Chapter 13: Draconian ideals - Part 2

The air in the dimly lit room was thick with the smell of herbs and potions, R'hazul's laboratory was a place where only the bravest dared to venture. Or the ignorant. He was hunched over a body, his eyes scanning the corpse with a meticulousness that was almost frightening. Every inch of skin, every bone, every organ was scrutinised with a surgeon's precision. The man was so still, so focused, it was hard to believe he was mortal.

"Another fascinating specimen," R'hazul mused, his voice low. "It's amazing how much you can learn from the dead."

R'hazul was indeed the seeker of truth, or as some called him, the cursed one. He had delved deep into the secrets of anatomy, and had expanded his studies to include the beasts & horrors of the world. The man was a walking library of knowledge, but not without great cost. Hushed whispers in the chambers of the long-lived, claimed he had made deals with demons, that he had sacrificed many innocents in his quest for knowledge. Experimented on them, robbing them of their humanity. Some said he was a demon in human form, that he had no soul to sell and served as a gateway into this plane, an anchor that could serve any [Demon Summoner] for miles. While others claimed he saved them from near-death, in battlefields, or took them from hospitals to his own study, a saint and messenger of Sylviel, the Comforter, an old God, and one of the first to die. And yet no one knew his true nature.

R'hazul's eyes glinted with a strange light as he worked. He had developed a reputation for taking what he wanted among the few that still knew his true nature and was, in truth, not above committing what some would call heinous acts to get it. He had stolen the corpse of a god from a war he hadn't even seen and at times made enemies of entire kingdoms. But to R'hazul, nothing was more important than knowledge. To him, these petty humans and elves, undead, and short-lived had all been repeating cycles they weren't even aware of. There were hundreds before them, and after, there would be hundreds more. But knowledge remained constant, ever present, and could only be improved. Nothing was more important. Well, except maybe the collection and study of precious metals.

He left the room and turned to Evan, his current subject, and examined him with an intensity that the young man was unaware of. What to do with him? He quite enjoyed Evan's thirst for knowledge; the boy soaked it like a sponge. He paused, thinking of how his last subject of study had called him evil and depraved before it was consumed by a demon as currency. This one would be different, as antagonistic relationships increased the propensity for damaged data. A study that allowed Evan to live and progress would yield much better results and more varied data. The strangeness of the tentacled phenomenon had made the boy an irreplaceable element. And to be honest, this form of research was quite a novel change; having someone to teach reminded him of his earlier days after his children had just been created and spurred his desire to chase his true project, whose results were deemed both 'good' and 'evil' by others.

R'hazul had, of course, dismissed the concept of good or evil after review. 'Evil' was subjective, as was 'good', and thus unreliable as consistent data points. He had been called 'good' almost as much as he'd been called 'evil'. He had noted that gold and mineral deposits often heavily swayed the opinion towards 'good'. He was aware that his pursuit of knowledge had at times led him down paths people would describe as 'dark', and yet he would continue to follow it, undeterred.

He shook his head, clearing his mind of distractions. His focus returned to Evan; the young man was unaware of the true nature of R'hazul, and he had no intention of revealing his secrets to the boy. To him, Evan was an interesting case study, a puzzle to be solved. He had no interest in harming or killing him, only studying him. Evan would become better and stronger, strong enough to provide good data. He would live through the process, probably.

He pondered the possibilities of the grotesque mishap that he had witnessed Evan experience. He would teach Evan to use his skills and then uncover the secret of that tentacled horror.

***

Evan examined the latest corpse had been tasked with studying, a Wyvern of flame, taking notes on its scaly skin, razor-sharp teeth, and enormous wings. "This is insane," he muttered to himself.

“Start with the pygidial gland” R'hazul crooned.

Evan nodded slowly, still taking in the enormity of the task. "Okay, I can do this. But can we start with something simple? Like, what's a pygidial gland?"

R'hazul chuckled. "Ah, the pygidial gland. That's what this creature uses to produce its fire-breath. Think of it like a little factory that produces highly flammable liquid, which it then ignites with a spark of chemical ignition"

Evan nodded in understanding. its own personal [Fireball], some animals have natural abilities that are similar to mana driven Skills…what would happen if I reinforced the organ with mana? Evan’s list for project ‘BetterBody™’ was growing "Whoa. Okay, I think I understand. And the ‘chromatophores’? Are they like camouflage cells or something? Like a [Stealth] skill?"

“They are nothing like [Stealth]” R’hazul huffed, “and would only work on people unable to sense the mana used by skills, the beast uses it to hide its claws and natural weapons from prey, masked by its own generated mana” hmm…interesting, Evan thought as he added that to his growing list of cells to master

“And once I understand these cells, my…[Transformation], will just store the information?”

“No, not at all. That would be far too simple. You'll need to use your skill to manipulate your own DNA and cellular makeup, to trigger [Transformation] into creating a hybrid of your own body and the skill's creature's biology. It won't be easy, but I have faith in your abilities."

Evan nodded, feeling both excited and concerned at the same time. "Okay, I'm ready to give it a shot. But can I ask you something first?"

R'hazul raised an eyebrow. "Of course. What's on your mind?"

Evan gestured to the two statues in the corner of the room. “Who are those two?”

Evan found his eyes constantly drawn to the two life-like shimmering statues in the room, metals of various colours blended to make it look like they were almost breathing. He had a feeling there was more to them than met the eye. They just seemed so out of place in the laboratory.

R'hazul's expression softened. "Those are my children.

R'hazul' stood in his laboratory, spurred by Evans question, his chest swelling with pride as he gazed upon his greatest creations, his homunculi, his children. These were not ordinary homunculi; they were masterpieces, a masterful combination of metal and magic, imbued with his essence, encased in layers of mostly human tissue & flesh, some his own, and crafted from rare metals, their true metallic skin, bones, and organs hidden beneath the flesh. R'hazul' had poured all his artistry and expertise into their creation, and it showed.

The process of their creation was complex and took many years. He remembered the process of their creation vividly; the excitement, the anticipation, and the disappointment. R'hazul had attempted to give them both five skills, but his first attempts had been a complete failure. However, this failure had created his greatest success, his magnum opus. They had multiple skills within them that had merged on their creation, resulting in less skills than R'hazul had intended. One of them had two skills, while the other only had one. At first, he had been devastated, until he saw what they could do.

Each one was slightly different, a result of R'hazul's experimentation with his [Imbue Life] skill. They moved with an almost balletic grace, their metallic limbs, joints, and muscles hidden beneath flesh, seamlessly moving in a way that was almost surgical. When they spoke, their voices had an additional ethereal quality to them, a strange mix of metal and magic, much like his.

They were still young, still children, with the appearance of adults he had designed. TTo him, the first homunculus he had created was a being of wondrous complexity, although her skills had led to some... eccentricities.

The first child, whom he named Esmeralda, or Esme for short, had the skills of [Dimensional Travel] and [Summoning], spawned from a mix of the [Celestial Transmutation] skill, and several others. She could travel between different dimensions and summon a single being from the dimension she visited as her sole and only permanent familiar. Having visited so many cultures that it had influenced her personality, each one had left an indelible mark on her. She was a strange combination of brilliance and naivete. He would always find her dressed in strange clothes, sharing strange stories with her familiar, and always using strange phrases. Her skills, and [Skills] were extraordinary, and her exploits were as strange to him as they were impressive. From aiding a foreign dragon in reclaiming its lost horde, to helping a group of barbarians in a different dimension conquer lands, she and her familiar had visited the strangest of worlds. To him Esme was extremely adventurous.

The second child, had named himself, he chose the name Gideon, and possessed the single skill of [Omni-sense], the ability to perceive and process all forms of sensory information. This homunculus was the more powerful of the two, almost unbeatable in his ability to process information from across the world, across timelines, and even across planes of existence; he had no weakness, he would see it coming. He was a mystery, at times, sometimes speaking in riddles and remaining aloof, watching them all with a sense of detached interest, and other times intently keeping an eye on his older sibling, intrigued by her travels and curious about what she might uncover in her adventures. He had been the ultimate spy, gathering information from across the world and beyond. He had seen the rise and fall of empires and had witnessed the births & deaths of celestials. And yet, he was still a child.

He had also developed a penchant for manipulating events to cause misfortune or death to befall individuals with strong fates and destinies. His ability to see and know anything he wanted had given him a longing for disorder, and witnessing madness. At times he could be described as evil. Which would have concerned R'hazul if he had any true understanding of the word.

Still, he was fascinated by their inhuman eccentricities, their ability to perceive the world in ways that he could not even begin to imagine. They had helped R'hazul uncover a few hidden secrets, from the depths of the earth to the further reaches of the cosmos.

Each of his children were more than mere works of artifice, but rather sentient beings, The combination had somehow imbued them with true intelligence, true sapience, so they could think and learn like any mortal. He had felt a sense of awe and wonder. They were living, ‘breathing’ creatures that he had brought into existence. If only he was able to recreate this phenomenon. He knew he was close.

Despite their differences, the homunculi shared a deep bond with their creator, one that was both loving and complicated. R'hazul' saw them as his greatest achievements, his magnum opus. They were a testament to his skill and ingenuity, his ability to create something truly magnificent from the simplest of beginnings. A single step into the capabilities of the gods. He would forever feel a sense of pride in them and himself. They were his children, his legacy, and he knew that they would continue to amaze and astound him for years to come.

***

Evan's eyes widened as R'hazul slapped the charred corpse of the hulking creature onto the desk in front of him. He leaned forward, looking over the beast's smoldering scales, and took a deep breath. The scent of burnt flesh and singed hair hung thick in the air. Evan coughed and waved his hand in front of his face, trying to clear the smoke.

“Wha…what is it?” Evan stammered.

R'hazul’s eyes gleamed as he looked down at the creature, studying it intently. “Close to a dragon, but not quite. let's call it a charred Wyrm… Wyvern.”

Evan nodded, trying to keep up. Although that pause was odd. “A Wyrm-Wyvern… so it’s like a… giant serpent?”

R'hazul’s lips twitched in a small smile. “You could say that. It’s a distant cousin of the dragon, but with some… interesting differences.”

Evan leaned in closer, his eyes alight with curiosity. “Like what?”

R'hazul’s smile widened. “Ah, that’s what I want you to discover. I expect you to be able to understand its biology by the end of the day, and transform yourself to be able to use at least one of its abilities by the end of the week.”

Evan’s jaw dropped. “The end of the week? That’s… that’s impossible.”

"Surely not," R'hazul replied, his voice dry and almost amused. "Greater things have been done in shorter time"

By the end of the week? …But it's Friday!? He groaned internally.

"You're a talented young man," R'hazul said simply. "I have faith in you."

Evan deadpanned. "Thanks for the vote of confidence," he muttered under his breath.

R'hazul raised an eyebrow. "Something wrong?"

Evan shook his head. "No, it's just...I'm not sure where to start. This thing is like nothing you've shown me so far, like nothing I've ever seen before. It's like trying to study a chimera and a kraken at the same time."

R'hazul nodded, his expression unreadable. "Yes, it's a complex creature. But I have faith in your abilities. Remember, you have until the end of the week."

Sighing, Evan straightened, taking a good look at the smoking cadaver. "Alright, I'll get to work. But can you help me out a bit? Maybe give me a starting point?"

R'hazul smirked. "I could give you a starting point, but where's the fun in that? Besides, part of your training is learning to figure things out for yourself. I'll be around for a couple of hours, if you need me, then I'm heading off for a few days on a task. But for now, the creature is all yours."

Evan scowled. "Thanks for nothing," he muttered as R'hazul walked away, leaving him alone with the massive corpse.

He examined the creature closely, noting its bone density, the arrangement of its organs, and the structure of its scales. Placing his hands on the corpse, wincing at the heat, he delved into his heart, the endlessly burning core of violence that made [Flesh Smith] possible. As his mana flared, dark flames of mana spread, and the skin of his scarred chest changed colour. His consciousness delved into the creature.

This corpse had… insanely tough bones, almost as strong as combined metals, unbelievable muscle density & cells and all manner of natural advancements that would put most warriors to shame. He sensed the age of cell repetition, and they were older than any wyrm had a right to be. Natural flight, and the ability to… naturally create several different elements, had large wings and ...spit fire. Evan paused.

"Hold up. Is this a dragon corpse? An actual dragon?"

Evan got to work.

***

As R'hazul prepared to leave he paused, glanced at the boy’s progress, observed him attempting to shift into a draconian hybrid, and smiled. He believed any secrets Evan naively thought he held from him were beneath him, save for the sight he saw when they first met. A draconian type transformation skill was unheard of. He looked forward to discovering the species Evan’s skill was aligned to. Finally done with he preparations, he left, thinking of his one true goal, centred on skills.

Personally, he had still not yet discovered a work-around to having an endless amount of skills, or even more than just two; like the rest of the world.

He knew he had found something much better.

By combining his [Imbue life] skill with his study of rare minerals, anatomy, and mana, anything he imbued with life, he found he could grant a single skill of any preserved corpse he had in his possession. And he had many corpses. This only seemed to work if the object he imbued with life managed to gain true sentience.
No new races had been made since the end of the gods, and true sentience was deemed an impossible task, save for the undead, who were still limited to the skills they had in life. And Although his weapons and armour were alive, they were less than animals, and could not hold skills.

His children though, were a completely different story.

His children were proof of his superiority, each imbued with skills and abilities that far exceeded those of any mortal.

And one day, he would make many more.

He had absolutely no interest in [Teleportation], he could already fly, and a [Transformation] skill that turned you into a dragon was useless, because he already was one.

***

R'hazul took a step forward, his pointed ears twitching as he studied Evan. He wondered what kind of person would willingly subject themselves to magical experimentation. Evan was different; that was certain.

"Ah, I see you've made quite some progress," R'hazul said, nodding approvingly. "What have you discovered?"

Soul of Blades - Chapter 12: Clash at the Summit

Behind and almost beside him, the horde of wolfmen and titanapes pursued relentlessly. Their thunderous footsteps pounding a drum-line through the mountain, and their growls filling the air. Battles erupted all around him as the jungle denizens clashed, trying to impede each other's progress. Projectiles flew through the chaotic scene, aimed at him, as the others recognized his head start and sought to close the gap.

Alex weaved through the chaos, narrowly avoiding magical attacks and incoming rocks, his enhanced dexterity sending careening up the mountain. His focus remained on reaching the summit, his determination unwavering. Each action he took was swift and precise, a clear sign of his skills and newfound strength. But he knew he couldn't afford anything less, any mistake too big could be his last.

Phoenix Leap. Alex was a streak of desperation, a blur of fear wrapped in a blaze of magic. His heart pounded increasingly with each narrow miss, a drum thrumming in his skull. His sword, and his Skill, was his lifeline, his flight, his defence. It was all he had.

The world blurred as he leapt. Phoenix Leap. His body streaked up the mountain, a human comet ignited by desperation and resolve. He was no longer running; he was flying, leaping off panels of mana-hardened air. His feet barely brushed the rough surface of the mountain.

Growls sounded all around him. Snarls. Roars. The steep ground seemed to tremble beneath the weight of the fury that chased him. Hundreds of monsters. Creatures that a few weeks ago would have been from his worst nightmares, were now made flesh and fury and claws.

Behind him, the Wolf Alpha leapt from the throng. Flame and fury personified, the hulking beast became a fireball, roasting any beings from all sides that came too close as it raced up from the bottom of the mountain. A halo trailing fire and death. The alpha roared. A true comet amongst shooting stars, it was a beacon of rage. It discarded the pack, no longer on the ground, but in the air. Soaring from one rocky outcrop to the next, it followed after Alex with a single-minded determination.

It was unstoppable.

And still, Alex leapt. Over boulders, across precipices. Scarcely touching the ground. He danced on the wind, a phoenix in flight. Up and up and up, ever towards the summit. His escape, his victory.

He mistimed his skill within it’s one second cooldown.

The ground came up to meet him.

Desperation gripped him, there were hundreds of them, but determination fought it back. Again, Phoenix Leap. The world dropped away. Gravity lost its hold and he was flung higher up the mountain.

Air rushed past him.

His feet touched the rock, briefly, just enough for another leap. His mana drained with each jump, a burning strain against his life-line. He grimaced, pushing through the sensation. His mind focused on one thing: reach the top.

Another leap.

His world was sky, stars, and the cold mountain air. His chest pounding a steady rhythm of survival, a drumbeat signaling his need to ascend, to evade, to survive. Phoenix Leap, once more.

The Titanape pack leader emerged in a spray of bodies. Its massive form dwarfed the Alpha, an intimidating silhouette against the starlit sky. It's cold roar shook the mountain, loose rocks falling to cause mayhem below. Fiery explosions rocked its side, and it quenched the offending entity with the squeeze of a hand the size of a man.

[You have defeated level 46 Apex Canid]

Alex blinked in surprise at the sudden notification. Ah, he thought, so experience can be shared, but there's a penalty. He was jerked away from his thoughts as the ground trembled once more.

The Titanape pack leader launched up, uprooting the surrounding rocks and bodies in its wake. Heaving its massive body off the ground, it bounded after Alex. A living avalanche, tearing through the mountainside, scattering rocks and monsters alike in its pursuit. At the sight of the new arrivals, the climbers turned more relentless, more savage.

Alex pushed on.

His body ached, his mana was dwindling, but the need to survive drove him forward. Another Phoenix Leap. The world dropped, then surged up to meet him. He was a puppet of his own desperation, on strings of taut mana.

With his dwindling mana reserves, each leap Alex took was a risk. A gamble. There was a second between leaps during the cooldown where he was completely vulnerable, like the ticking of a clock. At times he had to calculate and time each leap to stay close to the ground, ready to spring a way using nothing but his stats if need be. And at other times he would stay in the air, out of range of magical barrages. It was a constant risk. A prayer sent up to a sky that didn’t seem to care. Alex twisted mid-leap, glimpsing the chaos below. The alpha was closing in, it was relentless. It was fury and flame, wrath and heat. Moving with inhuman speed, it was an unstoppable force. Each burst of flaming speed brought it closer, each roar burned the very air around Alex. Behind, the Titanape crashed through. Every bounding leap it took was an earthquake. Every roar, a thunderclap. The mountain shook, and the rocks trembled continuously. The beast was catching up, its mass and might carrying it through the storm of fury.

The pack leaders had caught up to him, and all around, monsters howled their hunger to the winds.

The Titanape leader lunged. Fingers the size of Alex’s torso reaching out to crush him. His heart froze. The ground beneath him trembled. He was in mid-leap, and there was no place to dodge. No place, but up.

Phoenix Leap.

Mid-leap, Alex called for his status screen.

[Unassigned stat points: 25]

He had 25 free stats, and instantly dumped them into dexterity and intelligence. He put 11 into intelligence, thinking that he needed to increase his dwindling mana pool even more than his reaction time, and hoping the stat truly made a difference. He then placed the rest into dexterity, 14 stat points- to survive he needed the speed to escape their clutches more than anything.

[Strength: 67 (53)

Dexterity: 120 (83)

Endurance: 61 (42)

Intelligence: 106 (73)

Wisdom: 41 (28)

Unassigned stat points: 0]

All of that was done in an instant.

He shot upwards, exhaling in relief at having timed his leap correctly, narrowly escaping the Titanape leader’s grasping hands. He felt the beast's cold frosting breath against his dangling feet. A scream of fury shook the air beneath him, but he didn't look back.

As he leapt upwards, the pack leaders shot past, up the mountain towards the peak, leaving him behind to chase after their heels.

They left him in the dirt to chase after their prize.

One more leap, then another. His body protested, his mana flared, strained, threatened to go out. He clenched his teeth, squeezing one leap after another from his dwindling reserves.

Alex was right behind them now, the pack leaders, and they were too distracted by their goal to notice. He could feel the heat of the Alphas flames ahead and practically grab the heels of the giant titanape leader as he leapt to reach the summit.

But he was still behind. They would get there first, and then what?

A shriek tore through the air. A gargantuan bird swooped down in an explosion of molten stone, talons extended towards them. Without missing a beat, Alex twisted in mid-air, narrowly avoiding the deadly spray. He felt the hot rush of air as it swished towards them, its phantasmal shriek ringing in his ears.

It careened into the Alpha wolf and Titanape leader. And a battle ensued.

It was mayhem. A tumult of fang, claw, and flaming feathers. Amid the chaos, Alex found an opening.

Phoenix Leap.

He flew past the airborne brawl, his eyes fixated on the peak just a little distance away. The summit was in sight. So close he could almost touch it.

Alex glanced back. For a moment, his eyes met the Alpha's. The wolf's gaze was pure fire, an inferno of determination that reflected his own. It was filled with hatred.

No more time.

Phoenix Leap.

His mana, was barely a whisper. But still, he pushed on. One more leap, just one more.

Summoning the last reserves of his energy, he made one final leap. The world blurred around him as he defied gravity once more. The wolves and titanapes were left behind, unable to match and survive the three unstoppable titans battling in their midst.

Finally, the summit.

As Alex landed on the summit, a moment of respite settled upon him. The mountain peak stood silent, as if holding its breath to peer at the victor. Alex took a moment to savour the accomplishment, the realisation that he had surpassed the odds and survived, That thanks to the head start his cave had given him he had made it. Another realisation washed over him in waves, carried along by the summits cool air. He had done more than just survived as the countless beasts and monsters pursued him; his goals had changed, if ever so slightly. During the melee and desperate chaos, he had found himself shifting away from mere survival- he had sought victory, craved it. And in its place he had found evolution. He had grown more in that battle, and in this week than he had in his whole life, changed not just in technique or capabilities, but in desire.

The wind howled in his ears, the world fell away beneath him. He stood alone, the sole human in a war of beasts and monsters.

But the battle was not over.

He turned back, watching the battle rage below him. The wolf, the ape, the bird - they fought, engaged in a primal and savage display, torrents of flames, frost, and explosions rocked the mountainside.

He could still hear the battle cry of the Alpha wolf. The ground shaking roars of the Titanape. The shrill ethereal shrieks and chimes of the monstrous juvenile phoenix. The sounds of the battle seemed faded and distant at the peak of the mountain.

But he had made it. He was at the summit.

Alex moved towards the center of the peak, the wild dance of cool and warm winds ruffling his hair. He noticed molten rock sputtering beneath his feet, as small flames danced in the corner of his eyes. The peak was alive, resonating with the same wild energy that had carried him this far.

In the heart of this maelstrom, there was a massive whirl of ash, floating in the air. It shifted every moment, an ephemeral entity of color. The ash was painted in shades of red, yellow, and orange, each tinge interspersed with gray and black. It was a living storm of color, suspended in the mountain's heart, as if a token left for him alone.

His prize.

He approached the ash, his eyes tracing its ceaseless swirls. It was a captivating sight, a living painting that drew him in. He stretched out his arm, his fingers itching to touch the floating spectacle.

[Consume?]

The system's notification snapped him out of his trance. A choice laid out before him. His heart pounded in excitement, the only sound that seemed to overpower the fierce wind. His arm wavered in the air, and he swallowed, a knot forming in his throat.

"Yes," he said, his voice clear and firm, but barely audible in the swirling wind.

Immediately, the ash responded, springing to life. It shot towards him, covering him in an instant. The warm particles seeped into his clothes, his eyes, nose, and mouth. His world turned into a haze of colour and warmth.

Everything went black.

There was no more wind, no more fire, no more ash. Only darkness, encompassing, enveloping, cradling him in its embrace.

Time-Smith - Chapter 12: Draconian ideals - Part 1

Evan followed R'hazul deeper into the desert, observing the shifting sand beneath his feet, leaving no trace of their path behind them. R'hazul moved with a fluid grace that spoke to decades of practice, amplifying the movements of his armor and leggings in the evening sun. Evan, on the other hand, felt clumsy in the sand, but he was getting used to it.

It turns out, that walking at speed or running through the desert is like playing a never-ending game of 'don't step on the cracked path'. Except the cracks are the only thing there is to step on. The sand shifts and moves with every step, imprinting Akashic patterns of your movements. The only way to move, or run well in the sand, is to take one step at a time like a baby learning to walk again. Sure, you could stumble through or trudge along like some small ogre. But to run, truly run, and run fast, you have to master the perpetual balancing act with the sand beneath you, feel and anticipate its shifts, and the change in your balance. When you master each step, you master the sand. Anticipating each step you take to cause ripples and shifts, which moves you in turn. Like thousands of ants shifting a giant. It would actually be quite interesting to study, if it wasn't so annoying.

"Did you know," R’Hazul said, glancing at Evan, "that sand is just tiny rocks that have been ground down by time and pressure?"

Evan felt he was close to mastering the balancing act, but the lapse in attention as he looked up to respond had caused him to stumble The sand may just be tiny rocks, he mused but they're tiny rocks that have it out for my feet, and my dignity. Officially over it.

Connecting with his skills, Evan teleported ahead, sliding across the sand after his new mentor. he felt as though the mana in the air was different here, as pliable as the sand, almost itching to be let loose.

"I see. so it's natures way of saying 'Ha ha, you thought you'd be able to run without your skills'"

R'hazul turned, mid run, now running backwards through the sand, each step launching him further. He angled a molten smirk towards Evan. Evan wondered what would happen if his new companion where to bite an enemy. With the sheer light and heat he could gleam through the smirk, he assumed they probably wouldn't enjoy it.

Ha. Exactly. So, regarding your [Transformation] skill," R'hazul asked, glancing back at the direction he ran in before turning to look at Evan with piercing golden eyes. "Tell me everything you know about it."

Evan took a deep breath, his mind racing with the possibilities of what he could, and should describe. "It's a transformation," he said finally. "I can change myself into something else. Something specific."

R'hazul nodded thoughtfully. "And what is that something?"

Evan hesitated, still unsure if he was ready to share his secret. OK Evan, think. He's a cool guy, a great guy, in fact. But how do I milk his lessons for everything they're worth? What animal do I want the power of? And I do need real power. What's going to send everyone running? A wolf? A bloodbear?...or… a hydra??? Evan smiled

To hells with it, what have I got to lose? Besides his trust I mean, lets go big, super big.

"A dragon," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

R'hazul raised an eyebrow. "A dragon? That's a rather ambitious transformation, don't you think?"

Evan shrugged, suddenly feeling foolish. It's just something I've always wanted to be: strong, powerful, able to fly. Ever since I got the skill."

"Well, let's see what we can do. But before we get to that, we need to start with the basics: mana control, human anatomy, and the anatomy of draconic beings and monsters."

Evan looked back to his feet, focused on his run, occasionally glancing up towards his new mentor. He didn't want to stumble and miss something crucial.

"Mastering skills" R'hazul began, "is about mastering mana. And in our case, the sand is mana" R'hazul began to slowly increase his pace, as Evan gritted his teeth and followed, remaining concentrated on his footing.

"And mastering skills," R'hazul said, still facing Evan, "is like running through the sand: it's not about how fast you go or how strong your steps are, but how you keep your balance. Just like the sand, skills can slip through your fingers if you don't hold on tight. It requires balance and control over the constantly shifting grains of mana. The slightest misstep can send you off course. The key is learning when to go with its flow and when to push against it. Anticipate how it responds to your movements, even understanding your own movements in turn. When you learn to control the movements and shifts of mana, how the pressure causes it to change direction and change its flow, how a stream can turn into a tsunami, or a slight breeze into a sandstorm, your skills will become endless in their application." R'hazul pointed, and his finger flared with heat before creating a soft chill, and a bolt of lightning streaked through the air.

"My skill has nothing to do with lightning," he said, lowering his arm.

"But that usually takes time and experience, unless you're a genius," R'hazul smirked again. Evan had a feeling there was a 'like me' the man had left unsaid.

"But you'll get there with practice," R'hazul continued. "And what will really help you master the [Transformation] skill is understanding anatomy."

Evan stared intently at R'hazul as the Seeker of Truth began to expound on the intricacies of Mana, ‘biology’ and anatomy. R'hazul's voice had become deep and raspy, releasing waves of sound that Evan found hard to forget, as if he had been whispering secrets to the sand dunes for decades. He spoke with a precise, measured cadence, and every word was weighed down with decades of knowledge and experience.

***

Evan watched as R'hazul picked up a gnarled bone and held it up to the light. The bone looked ancient and fragile, as if it would crumble at the slightest touch. R'hazul began to speak about the bone's function, as Evan struggled to follow the surge of information and technical language.

"Okay, wait, so this bone is like, uh, the handle of a war scythe, right? And the rotator part is like the pointy bit at the end that you spin and use to stab things?" Evan ventured tentatively. What kind of animal has spinning blades for arms while stealing souls, anyway? What kind of all-powerful god makes something like that? No wonder they died. I would have probably killed them too, if I could.

R'hazul raised an eyebrow but continued, undeterred. "In a manner of speaking, yes. This bone is called the Atlas-humerus, and it serves as the connection between the beast's shoulder and the elbow joint."

Evan nodded, making a mental note. "And what about these blastema cells? That sounds like a [Regeneration] skill." That was a highly coveted skill, for the elite.

R'hazul chuckled. "Blastema cells are actually quite fascinating. They allow this creature to regenerate damaged tissue, almost like a Hydra. Some species can even use them to create clones. I can heal, accelerate healing, and fix my mass, but what if I lost an arm? It would be gone forever. Evan mentally added blastema cells to his growing list of cells and organs to acquire.

Evan nodded slowly, trying to grasp the information. They had moved on to all sorts of anatomies of wild beasts, some powerful, and a few strange creatures he couldn't quite place. How the hells did he get so many dangerous corpses? His mind went back to the earlier displays of power and control, and he further raised the mental threat level of his teacher.

Good thing he was such a great guy.

R'hazul continued to speak about the various bones, muscles, and organs that made up various forms. His voice was hypnotic, waves of unseen mana lulling Evan into a state of deep concentration. Evan could feel his mind expanding, as if it were a balloon being filled with air. He felt invigorated and energised, as if he could take on the world.

R'hazul paused, regarding Evan with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. "So, you believe you can transform into a dragon," he said, his voice now smooth and deep, like the rumble of distant thunder.

Evan nodded, not quite sure what to say.

“Come on then, we’ll see. I’m sure it’ll be quite the spectacle”

As they packed up their equipment and prepared to leave, Evan had a nagging feeling that he was forgetting something. Something important, extremely so, and something obvious. As R’Hazul went on about his discoveries; a new cell, or a new beasts capabilities… the feeling slipped into the recess of his mind. Evan looked over at R'hazul with respect. He had never met anyone so dedicated to the pursuit of knowledge, so singularly focused on understanding the world around them.

Little did Evan know that R'hazul's obsession with knowledge was only the tip of the iceberg. The Cursed One had been alive for a long, long time, even by the standards of his species. So long, at times, his memories were starting to fail him. He hoarded knowledge, precious metals, and magical artifacts. Some he used to store important memories, some to store test subjects and research. He coveted knowledge above all else. Although, R’Hazul had one true treasure besides knowledge, and metals; his progeny. He had recently lost track of his children, and cared for their progress and growth. Although they visited him from time to time, over the years, he was unsure if they were still alive. But in truth, he couldn't imagine them dying. To him, they were masterpieces.

Masterpieces that would one day rule the world.

Soul of Blades - Chapter 11: Death vs Destruction

In the world of martial arts, there are countless techniques, and in the realm of the sword, they are all said to stem from eight different movements- eight attack angles. Well, nine if you include the stab.

4 Vertical slashes.

4 horizontal slashes.

And of course, the stab. Once you truly delve into the complexities of sword play and the complexities of combat, the 9 multiplies into 18, then 36, and then endless variations for endless scenarios.

All stemming from 9 movements.

Take, for example, Kendo’s Multiple Strike Combo- The Ren Dan- a technique that often exhibits this complexity. The move is all about maintaining offensive pressure and overwhelming adversaries with a barrage of attacks, all while barring your opponents from finding an opening. Having to Strike targets twice your size, targets with claws and canines as sharp as any blade would turn this technique into an exercise of daring and precision. The technique would transform when faced with opponents with unnatural agility. If one found themselves battling beasts that fly and slide across mountainous terrain with the ease of birds in flight, a particularly talented person could use the technique to deliver a series of quick, controlled strikes, each targeting a different point and different opponent with inhuman precision and speed.

In Kenjutsu, the Enveloping Cut, known as Kesa Giri, faces another real test. The typical cut starts from the shoulder of your unfortunate opponent, with the sword sweeping across in a large, diagonal arc, the body turns in harmony with the cut, with feet pivoting for balance and reach. The Kesa Giri's broad, sweeping motion is said to be designed to engage multiple adversaries in one fluid movement. The diagonal path of the blade makes it a versatile strike, capable of both offense and defense, allowing for quick transitions between targets. Against a wolfman leaping with physics-defying speed, you would have to adapt this technique. Your cut, traditionally a wide sweep, would need laser-like precision, adjusting mid-air to the creature's unpredictable movements. It becomes less about elegance and more about slicing through an impossible whirlwind.

Against a wolfman that propels itself with explosive blasts, the Swift Turn, or Hiraki, would enter the fray. You would find yourself quickly pivoting. Spinning, not for grace, but to keep your limbs intact, each turn a calculated gamble against the fiery advances of this adversary.

You would need to adapt the technique to predict the explosions, watching the twitches and shifts of fur and muscles with all the focus of your vision- peripheral and otherwise- to leap back and avoid any blasts of fiery death, rock, and clawed momentum.

When facing deadly creatures from all directions, Battojutsu’s Turning Strike, the Mawarigiri, becomes the difference between life and death.

Using the technique, you would find yourself constantly turning to face a new threat while drawing the sword in a sweeping motion, often culminating in a powerful strike. The turn and draw are blended into one seamless action.

And against countless beasts chasing after you from all sides, and three hulking wolfmen that outstip you in size and magical capabilities, you would need the agility and dexterity of a gymnast and the precision- or intelligence- of a marksman. The technique would evolve into a strategic whirlwind, where every turn and strike keeps you one step ahead of being cornered, outflanked, skewered, or dismembered into charred chunks of gore.

Such an environment would require ingenuity.

Against a creature with the ability to slide through rock as if skating on ice, bisecting all who enter its path, Muay Thai’s Flying Knee, Kao Loi, completely transforms. It is a move based in surprise and high-impact. Typically, you would leap, driving one knee upward while the other leg provides thrust. The arms used to either guard or assist in targeting. The knee is aimed at the head, chest, or abdomen.

Of a human opponent.

For an opponent with deadly claws and paws setting the ground aflame. Here, you would leap and strike in one fluid motion, a race against the creature's fiery path. This technique becomes a fiery duel, where the ground is as treacherous as any blade. Coupled with the magical skill to propel yourself through the air at speed in any direction, the technique evolves.

It turns into a daring leap, boosted in mid-air in an attempt to meet the explosive power of a dangerous wolfman with equal force. ideal for quickly downing an aggressive opponent. It combines the elements of surprise, power, agility, and force making it a formidable move not only in close-quarters combat, but in ranged combat too.

It’s an essential technique for when you find yourself outnumbered. But nowhere near as essential as your footwork and positioning.

Fluid footwork could be said by some to be a swordsman’s lifeline. And Kendos fluid Footwork, The Ashi Sabaki- even more so. It’s a series of dynamic shifts and movements including sidesteps and pivots, used to instantly grasp deadly terrain and rapid repositioning, enabling one to strike out at all angles. The technique focuses on controlling distance, positioning, and range, as most footwork techniques do. As all martial movement tech Allow even the most unhealthiest of fighters to engage or disengage enemies at will, dictating the pace and flow of combat in impossible or desperate conditions.

Say, for example, if someone were trying to maintain balance on a sloped battlefield, a constantly shifting battlefield filled with magical projectiles- flying with explosive effects in all directions- the application of this technique would shift from the practiced steps of a training hall to a frantic race of survival, where every step could be your last.

Maybe the errant beam of red heated air shooting your way will pierce through you like tofu, or maybe it will liquify your insides. With this technique, adapted, you'd only have to wonder, as a swift pivot would cause it to miss you by inches, the heat blistering your skin as you focus on much more immediate threats.

Mastering these techniques is a journey with no set ending. Against formidable creatures, It's a challenge that demands not just practice, but ingenuity, adaptability, instincts, and an inhuman level of awareness and reflexes, where each move is a calculated risk in the battle of survival against beasts of nightmare.

Basically, it’s hard as hell.

And Alex was discovering all of this the hard way, as he fought for his life. Rediscovering, and learning.

Alex sprinted, the flashes of magical projectiles and the chaos of the battlefield propelling him forward. Phoenix leap, he thought.

He soared.

Explosions erupted behind him, distinct bursts of light and heat chasing him as he fled. The roar of each blast was jarring, surging heat and erratic light pressing on his back. Adrenaline surged through his veins, sword gripped firm in his hand.

The three pursued from all sides. Their fur bristled with raw power when they bounded through the melee, their presence had dominated the battlefield's chaos. Titanapes were blasted apart, and wolfmen were shredded to ribbons. Any who had gotten to close or impeded their path had been swiftly obliterated by their monstrous charge.

Except Alex.

Alex had used his knowledge of the mountains paths to gain distance, and purposely led them into traps he'd planted days before. He sent a prayer of thanks to the heavens that his attempts at securing the perimeter- a lesson learned from his time spent in the jungle- had paid off in ways he couldn't imagined. The rigged placements of countless wickedly sharp horns had played their part and slowed his pursuers, causing to become more wary and add caution to their reckless charge. Now he was too far ahead and too far apart. But the the three grew more confident and reckless with each step and twist devoid of further traps, as Alex hadn't deigned to plant any this high up. The gap between them was closing again. His lead would not last for much longer.

***

From above, the third wolfman descended, eyes flashing with predatory hunger. Alex twisted to avoid the fiery swipe, feeling the heat graze his cheek. He ducked under another claw, the wind from its passage ruffling his hair. He then parried the claw with his sword, the sound of metal ringing in the night air.

The explosive wolfman closed in from behind, its charred fur cloak matted with sweat and blood. Alex spun, sword extended, but the creature was faster. Its palm strike connected with Alex's shoulder, an explosion blossoming on impact, sending him crashing through rocks and landing on his back. Everything hurt, and his ribs felt numb and swollen. But Alex gritted his teeth and stood, staggering. His ears still rang with the sound of each explosion, the distinct thunder of detonations echoing through the mountain air.

Pain is just information, he thought, reminding himself of his family's teachings as he raised his sword.

He leapt, narrowly avoiding another explosion. The force of it sent him off-balance, stumbling forward some meters ahead as his surroundings brightened with flames and heat.

Ow, god I hate these guys. I need to take one of them out. The explosive guy is too dangerous, he has to go first. But the others, they’re too fast.

He turned to see the sliding beast speeding towards him from the side. It cut through the air, claws outstretched, aiming for him.

The sliding one needs the ground to move. I haven’t seen it slide on any other surface, and if it could slide off the air it would have already.

So what if I remove the ground from the equation?

Alex readied himself as he ran once more, knowing the next moments were crucial. He had to outmaneuver them, to survive. He had to make it to the peak. If this worked, it could give him an edge and create the gap he needed to break free from their formation. He eyed the path ahead, all he needed was a moment, a chance to gain some distance.

But they were relentless. As its two allies pursued from behind, the fire trailing wolfman swerved, cutting off Alex's path in an arc. Alex skidded, sending a spray of pebbles down the mountain. But he didn’t stop.

Pivoting on the ball of one foot and using the other for balance, Alex leapt, driving one knee upward while the other leg provided thrust. Phoenix leap, he thought in mid-flight, and the world blurred as he careened towards the fiery wolfman as if propelled.

Crash.

His knee impacted the creature's chest and drove the air out of it with a hollow and meaty thud, the force of its momentum having been turned against it. Alex raised his sword in the same instant and stabbed.

He thrust his blade forward, angling his blade to shear through the wolfman's heart and spine. He felt the wind rush past as it’s claw swished past his head and missed, the futile swipes of a dying beast. The wolfman's snarl turned into a fading howl as his blow severed its spine, ruptured its heart, and took its life.

Alex then felt a sharp sting across his chest, and a searing pain

The dying wolfman had struck again, its claws leaving a deep, ragged gash. A glimpse of white hinted at ribs being bare to the world, and his blood flowed freely. The pain was intense, and nausea began to set in, but Alex attempted to push through. Pain is just information, your body’s way of informing the brain of injuries, you don’t need to let it control you. He tried to recite one of his family's mantras, but it didn’t change the fact that his chest felt as though it was on fire from the inside. His breath came in ragged gasps as he hacked and coughed blood.

[You have defeated level 48 Apex Canid - additional experience points due to the level difference]

“Good riddance” he wheezed through the growing pain in his chest. He’d always enjoyed skating as a kid, and dogs throughout his life, but that thing had been seriously ruining the appeal.

For skating, not for dogs. Nothing could ruin his love for dogs, not even these things. Maybe there are some nice ones out there? Friendly killer werewolves? He laughed despite himself, then hacked and wheezed in pain as he struggled to breathe and made to move from the dead beast.

[Level 16 > Level 19]

[15 unassigned stats - Speak or think ‘Status’ to allocate pending stats]

Without hesitation, Alex dumped all of his free stats into dexterity. A warm feeling embraced him as he felt the world buzz and slow down, before resuming its normal pace.

[Strength: 67 (53)

Dexterity: 83 (57)

Endurance: 61 (42)

Intelligence: 90 (62)

Wisdom: 41 (28)]

The two remaining threats howled with rage at the sight of their dead comrade and closed in on him from behind.

And Alex made a sound that he intended to be a roar, but came out more as a wheezy scream as he leapt off the beast and drew for his second healing potion. The pain in his chest was unbearable, and he couldn’t run or move his arm properly. The numb feeling in his chest spread as he wheezed, it felt as though his lung had been punctured. He eyed the potion for a what felt like milliseconds as his brain fired off thoughts at speed: after using this to heal himself, there would only be one potion left. After this one was gone, he would only have one final chance at healing deadly injuries. Better to die later than now, he thought with finality. That wasn’t a saying or teaching of his family’s, but he felt as though it should be.

He downed the potion.

Alex ran and marvelled at the effects as his wounds healed almost instantly. His dexterity had increased by almost a third, and his speed had increased exponentially as a result. It sent him off at a pace the remaining beasts could not immediately follow.

He felt faster than he’d ever felt in his life, despite the exhaustion assaulting him. The warring beasts were a distant memory, the sounds of their battles fading fast. He could do this.

The mountain's terrain grew less treacherous, the air thinner, and the wind colder, Alex pressed on, his eyes fixed on the summit. His body was torn and beaten, and healed. And his sword was stained with the blood of his enemies, but the prize at the peak still remained. Battered and exhausted, Alex pressed on towards the summit, his body straining against gravity.

He was almost there. He could see the summit.

Another explosion up above, much larger and deeper than anything he’d ever experienced, rocked the mountain, causing Alex to stumble and stare in shock at the peak. The mountain had erupted, a stream of ash and flame reaching the sky. Thick torrents of lava erupted and engulfed the peak, and in the next breath, the lava began pouring down the mountain at a dizzying speed, rapidly frothing, falling and consuming everything in its path. A tsunami of fiery destruction.

Almost as one, all of the denizens halted and turned to race to the bottom, Alex included. Except this time he was at the back, with lava lapping at his heels. Using his dexterity and intelligence stats rivaling something of a much higher level- almost double the stats of the average mountain denizen- Phoenix Leap, gravity, and his sword, he too raced to the bottom. He had seen that system users without classes gained 5 stats per level, and thanks to his feats he had hundreds. But it was just enough to allow him to make it this far. He swiped, slashed, and landed on distracted monsters, apes, and wolves alike, launching off them with Phoenix Leap and sending them hurtling into the lava behind. He was barely keeping ahead of the lava, and felt it’s scorching heat against his back as the waves of itconsumed countless monsters without the dexterity or intelligence needed to descend the terrain in time. Leap after leap, he jumped from beast to beast, his skill launching them into the ground, or hurling them into the lava, every step he took brought an end to a lesser monster. His world was a blur of rock, fur, death, and notifications.

[System Message: You have defeated level 4 Apex Canid]

[System Message: You have defeated level 23 Apex Canid - additional experience points due to the level difference]

[System Message: You have defeated level 14 Titanape]

[System Message: You have defeated level 28 Titanape - Inventory Items available]

[System Message: You have defeated…]

[System Message: Level 19 > Level 23]

[Mass defeated level difference registered. Sole contributor noted. Incursion dungeon presence noted. Additional unnasigned stats granted +10.]

[System Message: 35 unassigned stats available]

For a split second, he was foolishly tempted to dump more stats into intelligence to increase his mana, as his initial gambles had paid off. Without his initial stat gain, he would never have made it this far. His intelligence stat affected his skills and the pool of energy he used to fuel them. He had used Phoenix Leap countless times, and although he felt exhausted, he didn’t feel drained. But magic was finite, and his body was even more so, any mistake between leaps would prove fatal. Speeds going to get me there first, right now speeds all that matters, he thought as he frantically moved.

Alex dumped 10 more stats into dexterity and kept the rest in reserve. The temptation to go all in on dexterity was there, but with only one healing potion left he needed as many lifelines as he could afford. And with his feats, 25 stats could equal an increase of 36 strength, dexterity, endurance, or intelligence in an instance, and that was before he took his latest skill, ‘Mana Burn’ into account.

[Strength: 67 (53)

Dexterity: 100 (69)

Endurance: 61 (42)

Intelligence: 90 (62)

Wisdom: 41 (28)

Unassigned stat points: 25]

The world shifted, and continued to blur around him at speeds he could barely keep up with as for the first time, his dexterity became his highest stat. He fled amidst the horde. His mind was having slight issues to keeping up with the influx of information and obstacles hurting his way- but it was manageable- it felt like he was hanging on to the back of a moving vehicle. In the corner of his eye, he saw the peak. He saw the fiery feathers of the rebirthing Phoenix dancing against the dark sky. He saw his goal, his chance, and his prize.

As he maneuvered past boulders, evaded attacks, and descended, battles continued to unfold ahead, and on either side of his desperate sprint. The thick wall of lava claimed a new victim every second. There was a savagery in the air, a desperation that clawed and bit at every contender.

Then, something strange erupted from the bottom of the mountain.

Fwoosh.

A powerful howling gale suddenly ripped through the mountain, its chill engulfing them all, halting their steps, and freezing the lava at their heels to hard rock, causing the mountain to be covered in darkness. The chill originated from deep within the jungle. Rhythmic booms soon followed, and a devastating roar shook the trees.

Boom.

Pebbles shook and rocks fell around them as they fought to free themselves from the frost and chill that had seeped into their bones. Some faster than others.

Boom.

Trees shook below, and crashed in a wave through the jungle leading up to the mountain. Strangely, an explosion of flames soon followed. Alex, frantically eyeing the struggling and frozen horde, desperately sought to regain control of his limbs, shaking free of the frost that had engulfed all on the mountain.

BOOM.

The earth trembled.

Something was coming.

Almost as one, the denizens turned and began to race up the mountain once again.

This time, Alex was among them, stuck at the frontline.

Time-Smith - Chapter 11: The Limits of Flesh - Part 2

Evan sank to his knees, his body wracked with exhaustion, awe, and confusion. He knew he had gone too far, pushing his magic to the limit and beyond.

"KIN?”… that's what it had asked. The words still rang through his thoughts, even more than the pulsing and alien sensations of his twisted limb.

The voice had been overwhelming. It had grown louder and louder in his head as his arm had continued to grotesquely distort, growing more eyes that peered at him with varying emotions. It had been curious and urgent, demanding answers. It had felt as if he had awakened some slumbering beast, and it had immediately been ravenous for knowledge. In a panic, he’d cut off his connection to his skill, but the presence had still remained, growing each second until he felt the weight of it all around him. In that moment, the sand had rippled in some places while being pressed flat in others around him.

What was that thing? He wondered. It didn't feel completely malevolent nor completely benign. It had simply felt profound, as if he had caught the attention of a celestial body.

Evan shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He had to focus on getting himself back together. He tried to will his arm back to its original state, but it wouldn't budge.

"What the hells did I do?" he muttered to himself.

In the distance, the sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the barren landscape. Light peeked through the dunes. The wind whistled through the sand and crevices, carrying with it the faint scent of smoke and ash.

He tried again; healing was one of the very first things he had learned. He may not understand how to change his body into something new, but he had years and years of healing from the safety and danger of the forest, returning his body to its natural state. Evan began focusing all his willpower on reversing the transformation. This time, he felt a slither of success; the pulsing in his arm subsided, and it began to return to its original shape.

“Oh wow, that's really freaky,” a voice called from behind.

Evan nearly jumped out of his skin.

Evan spun around, startled, and faced the stranger. He stood up and took a step towards them, assessing the new arrival warily.

"Can I help you with something?" Evan asked cautiously.

The man stood alone in the vast, empty landscape, his dark skin glistening, inhumanly dark, like the darkest obsidian. He radiated a pulsing heat that made the air around him shimmer with waves of distortion. Small red veins glowed beneath his skin, visible at places, and steam rose from his body with every movement, as if the intense heat within him was too much for the world around him to contain. His ears tapered to points, an almost elvish feature, and his eyes glowed with a bright yellow, liquid gold. What is he? Elves are not supposed to look like that.

He didn't know what to make of him, or why he had appeared out of nowhere.

The stranger chuckled, seemingly unperturbed by Evan's cautious demeanour. “You can call me R'hazul,” he said, his voice smooth and calm.

Evan relaxed slightly at the sound of the stranger's voice. There was something reassuring about it, and he felt his shoulders drop a little.

“Nice to meet you, R'hazul. I'm Evan,” he said, extending his hand.

R'hazul smiled and glanced from his smouldering hand, which was still billowing heat, to Evan's freshly healed one. “Likewise,” he said.

Evan looked down, retracting his arm, feeling foolish. Why had he done that? “So, what brings you here?” he asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

R'hazul shrugged. “Just passing through. I saw your little… display, and thought I'd come say hi.”

Evan frowned. “What do you mean, 'display'?”

R'hazul gestured towards Evan's arm. His pointed ears twitched with every sound. “That thing,” he said, grinning. “It's quite a sight.”

Evan nodded. “Yeah, I know. It's not exactly what I was going for.”

R'hazul chuckled. “I can imagine. What's your deal, anyway? Are you some kind of healing-mage, or was that a transformation skill?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

Evan looked at the stranger with a cautious eye, still not quite sure what to make of him. His baggy leggings were made of a deep dark fabric, embellished with intricate designs in gold thread, and hung loosely around his legs. The armour on his arms, his hands, and legs, were crafted from a metal he didn't recognise, and seemed to ripple and shift as he moved, as if it were alive. Although the stranger wore armour on his limbs, he had nothing on his torso, not even a shirt, as if his vital organs were made of mithril. Yeah, good luck with that. Evan scoffed internally, I'm sure your abs will protect you. Evan continued studying the intricate patterns etched into his impractical armour. They, however, were clearly magical.

The leggings seemed to be made of the same material as his skin. It clung to his body loosely like a second skin, and yet still managed to billow dramatically in the wind. It shimmered from black to gold, as if it too was alive and responding to his every movement. Okay, that is definitely not natural. Could that be a part of his skill? [Living Clothes]? [Living Armor]? Evan wondered, as he mentally raised the threat level of the man in front of him.

"What are you?" Evan asks, unable to contain his curiosity any longer.

R'hazul chuckled. "That's a loaded question"

An awkward silence followed, as they comfortably stood there, the breeze blowing sand around them. His voice is so smooth and relaxing. Evan thought, It's strange how-

"Ah, skills," R'hazul said, nodding and interrupting evans thoughts. "What kind of skills are you working on? if you don't mind me asking?"

Evan hesitated for a moment, not sure if he should reveal too much about himself to a stranger. But something about R'hazul put him at ease; whenever he spoke with that smooth, warm voice, Evan felt safer. He found himself saying, "[Fle-Transformation], [Teleportation], and- …and they’re both a pain." He had almost revealed the true nature of his skills; some part of Evan's mind was screaming at him not to stumble, though his body felt relaxed and safe.

R'hazul chuckled. “You mean you didn't intend to turn your arm into a writhing mass of eyes and tentacles?”

Evan relaxed even more. He still had the feeling R'hazul didn't seem to mean him any harm, but his mind just wouldn't allow him to let his guard down. “Yeah, well, it didn't go exactly as planned,” he said, rubbing his newly healed arm.

As he spoke, Evan saw that the inside of this thing-…of R'hazul’s mouth was akin to the inside of a volcano, glowing with molten heat. It felt like he was talking to a living furnace.

Evan shook his head, still feeling disoriented from his recent transformation experience. “Tell me about it. I still can’t control it properly.”

The stranger raised an eyebrow. “Control what? Is it the mana? Your skills?”

As Evans' wary gaze drifted across the… Elf’s? armoured arms, he caught sight of a weapon on his side. The weapon was long and slender, with a black, glossy blade that seemed to almost drink in the purple light staining the sky. The hilt of the weapon was intricately detailed, with swirling patterns etched into the dark metal. A swipe with that, would meet no resistance. At the base of the hilt, a gleaming jewel caught the light, reflecting it back in a dazzling array of colours. It seemed to pulse with a strange energy, turning unnaturally against the wind towards Evan as he regarded it, as if it too was alive. Definitely a [Living Armaments] skill he concluded does it apply to a specific set, or any armour or gear he wears?

Evan nodded, hesitating to reveal too much. “Yeah, it’s been a struggle. I can’t seem to get a handle on it.”

R'hazul seemed curious, "Having trouble with control, eh?" he asked, his eyes gleaming with interest. “Well, listen here, Evan. you might be lucky”

As he stood there, R'hazul spread his arms wide, and a strange roiling mass of mana seemed to emanate from his body. Suddenly, he burst into flames, and the air around him became warped with waves of heat. The flames flickered and danced, yellow at first, then orange, then blue. As the heat increased, his armour began to glow, shifting to face Evan in almost cat-like movements. The sand beneath his feet began to transform, melting and turning into molten glass. Small pieces of the hot glass began to rise up in the air around him.

Evan had to step back, unable to bear the intense heat that seemed to continue to rise.

The heat was now becoming unbearable. Evan could feel his skin starting to blister. But then, R’hazul paused and lowered his arms; all flames around him suddenly winking out, leaving only the sound of clinks of glass as the molten liquid fell back to earth.

The heat in the area dissipated abruptly, replaced by a frigid cold that seemed to suck the very air out of Evan's lungs. Lightning sparkled in the air around the man. R'hazul’s eyes, once bright as molten gold, had turned to a dull yellow, and his armour and clothes now glowed with heat. He looked back at Evan.

R'hazul laughed, beckoning Evan to follow. "Well, I know a thing or two about control."

Soul of Blades - Chapter 10: Skill Selection

[System Message: Choose one of 2 Skills]

[F-grade Skill 1: Astral Blades (Duration: 30 sec): Creates ethereal blades that surround the caster, slashing at enemies from all directions with increased speed and damage.]

[F-grade Skill 2: Mana burn (Duration: 30 sec): Burns through casters entire mana pool to double stats for a short period]

Pressed for time, Alex's thoughts tumbled through his head as he considered his options. He hoped time was frozen, or at least slowed in this strange expanse, but he doubted it. He envisioned the skills at his disposal, weighing their potential benefits and drawbacks. Astral Blades, slashing enemies from all directions, or Mana Burn, doubling his stats for a limited time. He visualised the potential of each skill. Astral Blades offered the allure of widespread attack, a whirlwind of ethereal steel, but Mana Burn was a ticket to raw power, a fleeting, dangerous supernova. That was powerful, and at the F grade? It gave credence to his suspicions on all skills being the same grade as the world they belonged to, but he didn’t have the time to experiment or even ponder- he needed to act now. Mana Burn seemed the more appealing choice. He'd need more than just convenient blades; he'd need the strength, endurance, resilience, and speed, to survive an army of beasts.

In the midst of the imminent horde, he made his decision. Mana Burn. The risk of depleting his mana pool was worth the potential lifesaving power it could provide, even without his skills, he would still have his base stats, and they were already far above his level.

With his choice made, Alex wasted no time. He raced out of the cave, his feet hitting the rocky ground hard. With the power of his stats surging through him and a Phoenix Leap propelling him, his legs became surrounded by the powerful mana of the skill. The strength within him felt like a roaring fire, propelling him higher and faster. He was unstoppably fast. Up the treacherous mountain, he flew, a blur against the greens and browns, weaving through the craggy terrain.

Below him, the mountain swarmed with creatures. Wolfmen, their feral eyes reflecting the stars above, bounded towards him. Titanapes, hulking forms of strength, followed amongst them. Their roars and growls created a maelstrom of chaos, ringing through the mountain's sides.

From a distance, the mountain was a scene of chaos. Clashes broke out amongst the pursuers, each creature desperate to halt the others. A scuffle here, a duel there; the mountain was alive with violence. The wolfmen and monstrous apes had abandoned their allegiances and fought each other to reach the summit.

They all coveted the peak's treasure.

Battle cries rang out amidst the pursuit, as all sought desperately to halt each other. Alex dodged an oncoming boulder, hurled by a Titanape with a bellow. It whizzed past him, the wind it stirred tugged at his hair. Close behind, a Wolfman snarled, launching a series of wind blades his way. Each attack, a reminder of the bloodthirsty horde tailing him. He was in the way of their prize, the rabbit in a race of wolves.

Alex's world became engulfed in light.

A barrage of energy orbs, emitted from a Wolfman shaman, exploded around him. The shockwave threw him off course, sending him spiralling. He was momentarily weightless, then gravity took hold, pulling him downward. But with a surge of will, he engaged Phoenix Leap, ricocheting off thin air, resuming his ascent.

Each leap, each narrow miss firmed his resolve. Alex needed this prize, this ‘Insight of the phoenix’ or whatever it was, was valuable enough to incite madness across the jungle. He darted and dived, twisted and turned, his body a weapon amidst a storm, his mind a fortress under siege. From his peripheral vision, a wind blade from a Wolfman sliced the air where he was a moment ago. His heart hammered in his chest with each close shave, a drum keeping time with the rhythm of survival.

Phoenix Leap. Alex’s body arced through the air, a blur against the rugged backdrop of the warring mountain. The sensation was exhilarating, a momentary freedom from the earthbound chase.

Then he landed and ran. And as he ran, the sound of an explosion erupted far behind him. Then another. Then another once more. Light flared. Heat surged.

Then the sounds of a fourth, much louder explosion rattled his eardrums. This time the light flared slightly brighter, and he felt the air pulsate, the warm heat waves from the blast licking his skin from behind.

The isolated sounds grew into a series of explosions that ruptured the clashes around him. The concussive forces vibrated through the mountain air as flashes of light and heat punctuated explosive sounds that drowned out the chaos around him as fleeting glimpses of wolfmen and titanapes flung in the air indiscriminately- like ragdolls- teased the corners of his vision at each sound. Each explosive roar was distinct and louder than the last.

It was shockingly close now, he could feel it. He turned to spare a look over his shoulder.

Behind him, rocks slid down the mountain slope and dust clouded the air obscuring his vision of the blood strewn mountain. Thick plumes of dark smoke, rock, and red misted gore covered a section of the mountain some distance behind him, as if more than just rock and stone had just exploded.

He glimpsed flashes of light slicing the darkness and smoky dust, and a growing heat grazing his skin in fleeting waves with each flash. The roars and screams of beasts sounded in the smoke before cutting off forever.

Then the dust and smoke parted, and his hand clamped tightly on his sword at what he saw.

Three towering wolfmen emerged, parting the smoke in a burst of movement and gore, the bodies of their kin and enemies discarded in all directions as they hunted for the quests prize. Their forms were imposing against the wild battlefield's backdrop as they sped past and through their lesser kin. All three looked at the peak, and then to Alex, hunger and fury apparent in their feral gazes.

The first, its fur dark as the void, shot upwards, shooting across the terrain in physics breaking movements that mirrored Alex's Phoenix Leap. Its massive body cut through the air, over terrain and skirmishes in short bursts of speed, the wind parting and whistling at its flight as it soared and shot above. It was a shadow in the sky, descending with hunger, its eyes locked on Alex racing form.

Another, its gray coat matted and dense above rippling muscles, launched forward, hands and feet erupting in fiery explosive blasts. The ground shook with its every burst, sending a shower of rocks and debris cascading down the slope.

Each explosion propelled it with ferocious speed, closing the gap between it and Alex at a frightening pace.

The third, its snout elongated and teeth laid permanently bare like white daggers, had burning paws that scraped against stone, leaving molten streaks as it glided swiftly over the terrain. It moved swiftly with a grace that belied its monstrous form, parting hardened rock with ease as each movement sent it streaking forwards. The ground burned red and burst into flames in its wake, wherever its smoldering feet touched. At that instant, Alex could see a trail of fire and carved burning bodies of all types of creatures in its wake, charting its path as it slid across the ground towards him with unnatural smoothness, as if the rugged terrain were nothing but slick ice. The air crackled with the heat of its passage, a palpable force that Alex could feel even from a distance.

Three beasts. They tore through the battlefield.

The ground shook as a titanape, towering and furious, crashed nearby, its eyes locked on Alex. The titanape's massive fist slammed into the spot where Alex had been mere moments before.

It bounded forward, using jagged rocks for leverage.

The third wolfman carved it cleanly in two, its body falling into pieces.

It happened in an instant, a flash of flames and claws and the giant ape was bisected, two halves of its form parting as the wolfmen sped through its center, skating up the mountain on trails of fire and scorched earth. Alex could still feel the heat radiating off the creature, the air shimmering with heat wherever it moved.

“Damn.” Alex muttered in stunned shock.

They swatted aside any beasts or titanapes that dared cross their path, their claws and fangs rending flesh and bone with ease. All allegiances were lost, and only a manic hunger for the prize- the quests reward- remained.

Phoenix Leap, Alex's thought crystallized into action as he turned to continue his ascent. He readied his sword as he skimmed over jagged rocks. He had seen enough. This wasn’t a battle, it was a race, and one he intended to win. He would deal with them once he reached the top and claimed the prize. And I’ll be damned if I’m killed by a figure skating werewolf, he thought, more with hatred than concern. They were strong, sure. Probably stronger than he was, with those skills. But if the madness of the mountain was any indication, whatever was at the top could give him the edge he needed to survive this, and maybe even escape. Letting one of these beasts claim the prize would be a mistake. It could make them infinitely more difficult to deal with and seal his fate. He hadn’t missed the fact that all three had powerful movement skills that rivaled or exceeded his own, one of them being exactly identical in execution. So skills aren’t unique, or maybe it’s just skill crystals that aren’t unique…  but then again… our skills seem slightly more powerful? Why are all the other monsters' skills weaker? Maybe they got their skills a different way… Maybe skill crystals give more powerful skills?. More questions without answers. The quest had a reward titled ‘unique skill creation’, which implied there were ways to get skills nobody else had, perhaps more than one way. It couldn’t be that the system was the only way to acquire a truly unique skill, could it? He dismissed those thoughts as he weaved through the jagged rocks. He sped and leapt, each movement calculated, fuelled by over 300 stats. His days spent securing the cave’s perimeter and searching the mountain guided his every movement through jagged and steep rocks as another Phoenix leap sent him soaring.

Another beast mimicked his movements, soaring after him through the air in an almost identical leap.

Alex’s feet pounded the rugged ground and he sprinted as soon as he made contact. Behind him, a Wolfman crashed into the ground from above, its claws scraping against the rocks and missing him by inches. Hot breath brushed Alex's neck as another wolfman lunged close, propelled by an explosion that radiated a wave of heat, casting sharp shadows against the rocky terrain. Dark fur bristled on the third wolfman as it slid across the ground towards Alex, its bared fangs catching the faint light from its trail of fire.

Alex leapt, higher.

He landed and drew his sword in one swift motion as his senses flared in warning.

From the left, the ember-trailing wolf pounced, its massive form slicing through the rocky terrain. Alex saw the area around him brighten with fiery light and frantically twisted with a swing of his blade. Sword met claws, and sparks flew at the point of impact, momentarily blinding him as on his right, the explosive wolf struck, a detonation erupting from its palm. The shockwave struck Alex, sending a jolt of pain through his back.

The blast launched him horizontally across the terrain. The world spun as he tumbled, and he caught a rapidly blurring glimpse of the mountain's peak.

Phoenix Leap.

His skill sent him shooting back up the mountain. Blood, his own, trickled down his back, a vivid red against the night.

Alex felt the air shift near his face and instinctively dodged. He countered, his sword connecting with a wolfman's arm, dark blood escaping the wound.

A titanape landed nearby, its gaze fixed on Alex.

The ape exploded in a shower of bones and flesh as an explosion ripped through it.

The explosive wolfman propelled itself forward with a burst of fire from its hands and feet. Now covered in Gore, It shot forward with more detonations, moving at breakneck speed past its peers with its gaze locked on Alex.

It’s teeth snapped shut near Alex's face as he rolled away. Standing, he thrust his sword, embedding it in the wolfman's shoulder.

Alex sidestepped its charge, feeling the wind from its movement. His sword arced through the air, striking the wolfman's side.

Its eyes glowed red as it snarled with anger.

Two wolfmen closed in from either side. Alex raced up the mountain. Another descended from above. His ascent slowed as he tried to evade them.

He parried a claw swipe with his sword. An explosion from a wolfman's palm struck him after he blocked another swipe. Pain shot through his body. Blood spiraled down, joining the stains across the mountain.

He yelled in pain, knocked from the air. The wolves converged on his falling form. They had gained a slight lead on the mountain's denizens.

A Phoenix Leap saved his fall, allowing his to gain some distance. The wolves followed swiftly, traversing the terrain with monstrous skills. They glared at his flight, animalistic rage in their eyes. They attempted to assault him at every turn.

Battles raged fiercely across mountain, flashes of light and sprays of gore coating the rocks in a twisted display of artistry.  The chaotic battlefield shifted up the mountain, chasing Alex, racing toward the top. The three pursued.

They were gaining on him.

Time-Smith - Chapter 10: The Limits of Flesh - Part 1

The thing about time travel is that it involves not just moving through time, but also through space, both physical and metaphysical. When one is flung through time, they are not simply moving from one moment to the next, but also traversing the vast, interconnected web of causality that links past, present, and future.

And then, just as suddenly as your journey begins, it's over. The world around you blurring and shifting, a fever-dream of colours blending together, sometimes beautifully. You’re standing in a new time, a new place, your stomach lurching and your head spinning. It takes a moment to orient yourself, to remember where and when you are, while the past blurs into focus around you.

Basically, Evan thought as the colours of history continued to shift into focus, The thing about time travel is that apparently it's never a smooth ride.

He had felt the familiar flow of mana coursing through his veins as he hurtled towards the past, and tried to focus on the feeling of mana to gain a better understanding of how the skill worked. [Postcognition] had been pushed to the brink by his enhanced physiology. There was a sensation of being compressed and stretched like a rubber band filling his senses; the mana was extending from the core in his brain, through his body and into his surroundings, connecting to something just beyond his perception. He could almost feel something reaching back out to him past that point, when he suddenly lost track of the sensation. He had observed his mana completely leaving him as his body adjusted to the temporal shift, moving towards that strange point past his perception, only to immediately return as his feet touched the ground. Something to look into next time, he noted.

As he emerged from the temporal shift, he found himself in a vast, empty landscape, the sky above him strangely stained with a deep shade of purple. He could hear thunder crackling in the distance. It was time to explore his [Flesh Smith] skill.

[Flesh Smith] allowed him to use the violent mana of his skill's core to infuse his cells—the very essence of his being—and alter them, changing his body in any way he wished. It controlled and sculpted his cells with magic, altering his form. He could become a powerful titan, and gain incredibly incredible strength, speed, and toughness that surpassed human limits. But he could only do any of this if he understood what he was doing, and unfortunately, Evan had no understanding of the human body and no means of learning without resorting to committing heinous crimes and experimenting on others in the real world. Without understanding the intricacies of the human body, the risks loomed large. And without knowing exactly what he was doing, the changes either wouldn't work, or could go horribly wrong. But now, he had [Postcognition], and the Echo of time travel it provided. He was ready to unravel the mysteries of his skill, forge his own destiny, and forge a new body.

"Okay, Evan, focus," he muttered to himself, taking deep breaths to calm his racing heart. "This is it. Time to experiment."

Since childhood, he had slowly learned to improve his body, bit by bit, piece by piece, with his first skill, [Flesh Smith], for over 10 years. The skill allowed him to alter his flesh, in any way he understood. Unfortunately, Evan understood nothing about the inner workings of his form, outside of what he could piece together over 10 years of careful experimentation with the skill. He had however, managed to improve himself, incrementally, every time a little stronger, a little faster, a little better; just a little bit. It had been a long process of trial and error, and had helped him survive his trips to the forest. For a youth, the experience of being stronger than most adults he encountered and all of his skill-less peers, was both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, he had experienced a certain confidence and security that came with knowing he could physically overpower any threat, so long as they didn’t have a dangerous Skill or two. On the other hand, he was constantly underestimated; nobody expected a child, or now, a youth, to be able to throw them through the roof. He may have been young, but he had the strength of a man three times his size, and the endurance of twenty of the same, he could run for days, if he wanted to.

Still, he didn't have another 10 years to spend, testing his body and skill’s limits safely. Not anymore. He closed his eyes and tried something new, something very different to the slow, incremental, gradual shifting of his muscles and bones he had been used to. He focused on the sensation of his skin, the texture, the temperature, the way it moved and flexed. Then, he willed it to change, to become something different. At first, nothing happened, but then he felt a subtle shift, a tingling sensation that spread through his body. When he opened his eyes and looked at his finger, he saw that it had grown much longer, the skin stretched taut and shiny.

"Whoa," he said, flexing his finger and marvelling at the strange sensation. "This is insane." What If he could learn to control the direction of major changes in real time? The gears of his mind began to turn at an inkling of the possibilities.

He flexed his fingers, feeling the magic pulse through him. With a thought, he focused on his left arm, and his first skill, [Flesh Smith], concentrated on the molecules and cells within it. He pictured the change he wanted to make, and felt the magic flow through him, reshaping his flesh.

There was a sudden jolt of pain, and Evan hissed through gritted teeth as his arm twisted and contorted into a grotesque shape. But he didn’t stop, didn’t let the pain slow him down. He continued to push, focusing his mind and willpower until finally, the transformation was complete.

Evan inspected his handiwork, marvelling at the intricate web of scars and muscles that now made up his left arm. It was stronger, more durable, and more flexible than ever before. And it looked cool as hell.

In his modest opinion, it was a work of art, a masterful attempt of his skill that had taken all of his concentration, willpower, and raw mana to create. The scars crisscrossed the surface of his skin like a spider's web, tracing out the intricate network of muscles and tendons beneath. The muscles themselves were larger and more defined than ever before, bulging beneath the skin with every movement. Each tendon was clearly visible, standing out like steel cables against the taut, rippling flesh. Observing, he felt as if his arm had been sculpted from marble, each new curve and contour perfectly defined and accentuated.

And all of this was just on the surface. Beneath the skin, there were layers upon layers of complexity, each one contributing to the whole. Within, It was like a living work of art, a cellular masterpiece of flesh and bone, and magic.

Still studying the arm, twisting and turning at different angles, he couldn’t believe its flexibility, the way it moved and contorted like a snake. He could bend it in ways he never thought possible, the joints twisting and turning like the gears of a clock. It curled in on itself before lashing out in a whip-like motion, a cracking sound of air where he had pulled back in surprise. It was like he had a second spine running down his arm, granting him a level of dexterity he never thought possible.

"It's like having a snake for an arm. Wait, no, scratch that, that's creepy." He shook his head, trying to clear the mental image. "But seriously, this is something else. I wonder if I can customise it further. Maybe add some flames or lightning bolts?" Having no idea how to even achieve something like that, he continued to study his new arm.

It was truly impressive, and yet, the skin was mottled and discoloured in places, as if burned or charred by some unknown force. And some sections of muscle seemed alien and warped. He peered at the mottled and discoloured patches on his skin. "Well, that's not quite what I had in mind," he muttered, realising that he had perhaps gone a bit too far in his magical experimentation. The fingers were slightly elongated, each one tipped with a razor-sharp claw that glinted in the low sunlight. He would have to attempt this again, he wasn't sure if using mana undirected would achieve the same result twice. Still, it was a sight to behold.

Okay, Evan, let's assess the damage here. We've got some burns and charring, but hey, no pain, no gain, right? The fingers are looking a little...claw-y. Like, monster-levels of claw-y. Useful for combat, but how would I explain this away? The church had registered his skills on his testing day, he could claim it was a curse, from an artifact, but no doubt they would want to ‘borrow’ this artefact for study.

The only thing holy about the clergy of the All Knowing Twins, He thought, clicking his tongue in dismay, is the gaping hole in their moral compass.

As he inspected his arm further, paying closer attention to the sections of twisted muscle and skin, he felt a twinge of apprehension. What if he couldn't control this new limb? What if it turned on him, like some kind of twisted ruin-dwelling monster? He pushed the thought away, focusing on the positive aspects of his creation.

Okay, Evan, get it together. This arm is amazing, and you're amazing for creating it. You've got this under control. He took a deep breath, feeling the magic pulse through his veins like a jolt of electricity. Now let's go show this bad boy off.

He felt a raging river of magic pulse through his body; he hadn’t deactivated his skill yet, despite having long learned how to make the changes it made permanent. Evan flexed his fingers experimentally, It was not just the appearance that impressed him. It was the feel of it, the way it moved and responded to his will. Almost before he thought it, his arm snapped to position, leaving a puff of air and sound in its wake. He could sense the potential of this new limb.

I feel like I could crush a boulder with this thing, he mused. If he was back in Lady Sariel's grand office, he may not have won, he thought, anger beginning to simmer, but he could've at least fought back with this thing. He was certain of it. She may be one of the most powerful in the city, but if the tales of the wider world he had heard, and strange glimpses of the past he could still remember were true, there were things out there that could make the Lady and her retainers look like children. And yet they had still destroyed him with their literal hands tied behind their backs. Quelling the rage boiling up inside, he continued. That wouldn't help here.

How could he use his skill, the ability to permanently change himself with mana, to compete with people he couldn't even touch? What could he do?

Okay, Evan, let's think about this. You've got [Flesh Smith]’ing and [Teleportation] on your side, but you're still a mere man facing off against probability warping madmen and ancient monsters. What can you do to up your game? Well, you've already got a powerful arm, so why not take it further? What if you could turn your whole body into a weapon?

He paused, flexing, admiring the tapestry of sinew and muscle under intricate patterns of scars etched into his flesh. As if his flesh had been woven together with strands of steel.

What else could he do? He could have skin as tough as dragon scales, and cords of muscles like mythril cables. He could run faster than the wind, and jump higher than a flying wyvern.

Sigh

But how would I even go about doing that? I've already pushed myself to the limit with this arm, and I had no idea what I was doing. Where would I even start?

"How the hell do I even begin to understand this thing?" he muttered, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

He looked down at his left arm, studying it closely, still in awe of the intricate web of scars and muscles that now made it up. "I still need to figure out how to make my changes more precise," he muttered to himself. It was a thing of beauty, imperfect, but still a powerful working of magic that he had crafted with his own hands. He ran his fingers along the spiderweb of scars crisscrossing the surface, tracing out the intricate network of muscles and tendons beneath. To him, It was a living sculpture, a statue in honour of of his rebellion against his own defeat, one that moved and flexed with every motion.

And yet, as he examined it, he couldn't resist feeling frustrated. How could he repeat this? He had no knowledge of human anatomy, no understanding of how his own body worked, and yet he had just altered it permanently in ways that he had never thought possible. It was a stroke of luck, a happy accident. But luck could only take him so far. He needed to learn more about his own body if he wanted to reach his full potential. He realised that he had no idea what he was doing.

He chuckled to himself as he began to focus on his other arm. Well, I guess I'll just have to be my own anatomy teacher, he thought, grinning. Trial and error, Evan. Trial and error.

He once again tapped into the feeling of power, the mana coursing through his veins in sharp electric currents from his first core, his first skill. As the mana spread throughout his body, it expanded the scar above his heart and the core of mana within. As he focused, the sounds and light of the world around him began to fade, and he entered an almost trance-like state, his entire being existing among his cells, studying them, trying to figure out their purpose. As the trance deepened, he felt his senses sharpening, becoming hyper-aware of every fibre of his being. He could feel the blood coursing through his veins, the beating of his heart, and the rhythm of his breath. He could even sense tiny living things inside of him, a part of his being, twirling in unreadable sequences and codes that seemed to record something. He was in tune with his body in a way he had never been before, not just a section, or an organ. His whole being. But he still had no idea what he was doing, or what all of this meant, so he flooded everything with his mana; every muscle and tendon, every joint and bone, every cell, down to the tiny twirling strands. He began to fill his mana with intent, willing it to change, begging it to change his arm.

He screamed out in anguish as his right arm began to twist and contort, the skin turning mottled and discoloured in places, as if filled with more flesh than it could ever possibly hold, and scorched and charred by some unknown force. It was as if some unseen entity had taken hold of his limb, pulling and stretching it in ways that defied the laws of nature. The transformation went horribly awry, and his arm split into long strands, several eyes forming in a cluster that swivelled to stare at him. Some eyes cried, others gazed in curiosity, and some rose in mirth, all of them fixated on him with an intensity that was unnerving. Yet, he couldn't tear his eyes away from the sight before him.

And it wasn't just the physical changes that were the problem, it seemed. He could feel something else, something deeper, a voice ringing out from beneath the surface. It was like a whisper, that said many things in an instant, a roaring wave of meaning that asked him one question.

"KIN?"

The voice grew louder and louder in his head, curious and urgent, demanding an answer. It was as if he had awakened some slumbering beast, and now it was ravenous for knowledge. In a panic, he cut off his connection to his skill, but the presence remained, growing each second until he felt the weight of it all around him, with the sand rippling in some places and being pressed flat in others around him.

And then, suddenly, it disappeared. The voice vanished as quickly as it had come. Leaving him alone and bewildered in the ruins of his own body.

Soul of Blades - Chapter 9: The Horde

As the light fell in the distance, touching the horizon, casting long, languid shadows across the jungle terrain, Alex sat in the entrance of his cave, gazing down at the world below.

He'd spent the past week inside this mountain, living off of what the land provided. With the help of his stats, the memories of a high school free-climbing field trip, and some strategic uses of 'Phoenix Leap,' he'd managed to secure this hidden cave near the summit.

By the base, a freshwater lake glittered under the rays of the false moonlight. To Alex, It was a strange fantasmal beauty, especially considering the fact that there was no moon, or clouds in sight. There was only a strange nebula of stars hanging above the island. He had discovered the lake on his seventh day. The system had chimed in his mind then, a message encased in square brackets:

[Survivor Feat unlocked. Proceed to the portal to claim reward. Final floor of incursion dungeon available.]

He’d puzzled over that. ‘Final floor’ it said… Aren't dungeons supposed to have multiple floors? Why did this one only have two?

Alex sat at the edge of the cave, a cliff, gazing down at the verdant jungle. The last week in the mountain had subjected him to an onslaught of trials, becoming an unforeseen crucible of survival. He had grown, as the dungeon's crucible had acted as a harsh master, instilling its lessons deep within his very being. Over the gruelling week, he had become accustomed to the dance of life and death. The constant battles had left their mark on his muscles, his senses had become heightened.

And he had survived.

In the beginning, finding food had been a battle of its own. He’d had to hunt down wolves, the memory of their howls, their strength, their fierce struggle still etched in his mind. But eventually, he'd found a jungle section filled with giant bananas and fruits that tasted like a blend of watermelon and pineapple. Then he'd met the giant gorillas. Massive, terrifying beasts that hoarded those heavenly fruits and did not take kindly to him trying to share.

The first encounter was a shock.

A gorilla, triple his size, had lumbered towards him. It had appeared almost out of thin air as it fell from the canopy towards the ground, the rumbling crash of its landing had alerted Alex to the danger. At the time, It was monstrous and seething with fury. His heart pounded, blood roaring in his ears as he faced down the enormous beast. A swift motion, a grating screech, and the creature was upon him.

The silverback had lunged, but Alex was quicker. A swift Phoenix Leap propelled him over the beast's head, his crude sword slicing down.

The gorilla roared, furiously swiping at him. He had ducked, but not fast enough. The beasts backhand had sent him tumbling. He felt at a faint scar on his chest as he remembered the blow.

He had managed to roll away from another swipe, popping his healing potion to staunch the damage. With a roar of his own, he lunged, capitalising on his instant recovery, the crude bronze sword driven deep into the gorilla's spine.

The beast fell with a thunderous thud, and a system message flashed informing him that he had just slain a ‘level 8 Titanape’. He felt relieved to note that the strange glitching had stopped since his first skill selection, but he had yet to use his remaining crystal.

He'd had to resort to sneaking in, taking out any wandering patrols or lone Titanapes and grabbing as many fruits as he could before they noticed him. But despite his guerrilla warfare and jungle tactics, they always did, and then the chase would begin, with more apes crashing through the jungle every second. He had grown used to the sounds of their thunderous roars pursuing him.

“Status” he mumbled, as his gaze shifted to the empty space in front of him.

[Name: Alex Ironwood

Level: 16

Race: Human - Rank F

Primary Class: Locked

Sub-class: Locked

Strength: 67 (46)

Dexterity: 67 (46)

Endurance: 61 (42)

Intelligence: 93 (64)

Wisdom: 41 (28)

Feats: First Encounter, Pioneer, Pinnacle IV,

Skills: Phoenix Leap, A̷̶̵̴̲̳̱l̸̢͉̗̣̑͐͛à̸̶̵̴̶̷̶̺̥̮̯͇̲̳̱̼̲͒̈́̈͛͋͐͋͂ͅͅ ̷̷̶̴̵̶̷̸̴̶̷̵̢̳̮̲̳̱͉̗̣̲̳̱̏̄̑͐͛͝͠Ω̴̵̶̷̲̳̱ ̶̶̯͇̼̲̈́̈͛͋͐͋͂ͅ ̷̷̶̴̵̶̷̴̶̷̵̳̮̲̳̱̲̳̱̏̄͝͠g̵̶̷̴̲̳̱e̸̪̟͇͕͂e̶̷̵̴̲̳̱E̵̴̶̷̶̵̴̶̷̷̸̸̢̲̳̱̼̲̲̳̱̟̮̙͚͉̗̣̺̥̮͋͐͋͂̔̑͐͛̀͒ͅͅ ̶̷̶̴̵̶̷̯͇̲̳̱̈́̈͛ ̷̸̴̶̷̵̳̮̪̟͇͕̲̳̱̏̄͂͝͠M̷̶̵̴̲̳̱m̸̵̴̶̷̸̷̸̴̶̷̵̢͉̗̣̲̳̱̪̟͇͕̟̮̙͚̺̥̮̲̳̱̑͐͛͂̔̀͒ͅ ̶̯͇̈́̈͛ ̷̸̶̢̳̮͉̗̣̼̲̏̄̑͐͛͋͐͋͂͝͠ͅO̷̟̮̙͚̔o̶̼̲͋͐͋͂ͅᾯ̴̵̶̷̵̴̶̷̷̸̸̸̢̲̳̱̲̳̱̟̮̙͚̪̟͇͕͉̗̣̺̥̮̑͐͛̀͒ ̶̯͇̈́̈͛ ̷̶͎̠̠̖̼̲̿́͋͐͋͂ͅ ̷̳̮̏̄͝͠ ̷̶̴̵̶̷̵̴̶̷̴̶̷̵̲̳̱̲̳̱̲̳̱ ,

Dao:

Unassigned stat points: 0 ]

Those encounters had helped him level up significantly, ten levels in a week, he had gained a whopping 102 stats, and those were just the bonuses he received from his feats alone. As a result, he had long since transcended the limits of humanity; He now had the stats of someone around level 56. He felt superhuman, but no additional skill crystals had dropped, leaving him to ponder how to acquire more.

But despite his gains, not once had he felt safe. Death lurked in every corner, and behind every tree. He'd often found himself outnumbered, and constantly fatigued. Many times he'd had no choice but to flee in order to recover his fading strength and plan an ambush of his own as they pursued.

There was no real way to escape the wolves' powerful tracking without bathing himself in the dirt and mud of the jungle, and that hadn't  always worked. At times they had been able to match his strength in some way, and chased him too quickly. He'd had to resort to leading them far back to traps he had set the day before, and in one case, all the way back to Plantie. It had set his journey back by days.

It had been a hellish week, and his stats had counted for nothing; the constant fatigue had taken its toll, a majority of his days were spent securing his perimeter with traps and points of escape as he moved towards the mountain. Rock Falls, log traps, Spike springs, and pitfalls had been his constant ally. The pits had been filled with the horns and heads of horned wolves. And the logs didnt always finish the job, but they created enough disarray and injury to a low him to sweep through and annihilate smaller groups of wolfmen like a spectre. Sometimes they didn't see him coming. Other times they recovered immediately and gave chase as he fled to the next ambush site.

He had learned a few things about the system through his grueling trek across the jungle.

The first thing he'd learned was that while inventory skills weren't common, they weren't exactly rare either. Occasionally he'd defeat a monster with an inventory skill of some sort, and although they never seemed to have anything of value, he craved that skill. The ability to carry a multitude of items without any burden in such a dangerous environment would be invaluable.

Another thing he'd learned was the value and rarity of ‘healing potions’. The system only gave rewards for feats and quests, and aside from the first feats rewards none of them had been health potions. No matter how many beasts, monsters  or wolfmen he defeated he received no rewards, and none of the quest rewards implied any kind of healing element. That indicated to him that the teams of people expected to enter this ‘dungeon’ would probably have some other form of healing. Probably a skill or some other means.

Alex held his last healing position tight. Right now, it was his most valuable possession besides his sword.

He'd also learned about traps, and the effect indirect hunting had on experience gain.

Finding a dead beast in an old trap had confirmed it. He had received no random notifications, no notices of experience gained from his traps, aside from the times he'd led beasts or monsters through them directly. Although the one time he’d remained and watched a smaller beast crushed by a trap had seemed to work. It had netted him experience, and he'd hardly even had to move.

It seemed the system counted involvement or some kind, or an active connection to the event for it to qualify as something worthy of experience gain; whether a prior attack, chasing, baiting, or simply being present and observing while hidden in shadow.

But what if he had a skill that killed indirectly? How would that work? Would he still get experience? And how did skill ranks work? Since this was an E Ranked world, would everyone else in the world have E Rank skills? Or were skills of all ranks awarded freely by the system?

The last week had provided him with a few answers, and even more questions.

He'd slept for mere hours each day, and was constantly alert as he moved through the jungle with bloodshot eyes. It was draining, both physically and mentally. There was just no time to rest, hardly any time to sleep, even in a field of traps a wolf would still break through. Or two. Or three. If he had not found a sword early on, he would have died. And even with his sword, he hadn't thought he would live past the week. At least, not until he found the cave.

The cave had changed everything. With Phoenix Leaps, bounding up the mountain had been childs play. A base of operations and an untouched place to rest had allowed him to recover his strength, assess the dungeon,and plan his next move.

But still, his days spent sleeping in the jungle had been hell.

A hell that had forged him into something more than what he was when he'd stepped foot past the jungle's treeline. He looked at his stats once more as he thought of his ordeals as pride swelled through him.

Pride at surpassing his limits. Another alien feeling. Despite the hell he'd faced, he couldn't bring himself to hate this place. He'd felt more alive in this past week than he had in the last two decades. He'd discovered more of himself, his art, his way of life, the true nature of combat, and what he was truly capable of when death stared him in the eyes.

He smiled.

[Strength: 67 (53)

Dexterity: 61 (42)

Endurance: 61 (42)

Intelligence: 90 (62)

Wisdom: 41 (28)]

His intelligence stat was the highest, followed by strength and then dexterity.

He had originally planned to focus solely on dexterity and strength for the speed and power of his blade, but the grueling endless battles and constant ambushes had forced him to allocate differently. He had been constantly outnumbered, and constantly ambushed, even in his few hours of sleep. Death from above, behind, and from all sides. To survive, he'd focused everything on his senses, his reactions, and didn't regret it.

It had been the right call.

Alex stepped toward the cave's edge as rain began to fall. Warm droplets pattered and splashed against moss-covered rocks, releasing earthy scents. The beads of rainwater collided with ferns and bushes, creating a pattern of splashes and ripples that painted the jungle below. Breathing deeply, he savored the dampness; the moist air filling his lungs and the wet rain caressing his skin, before settling into stance. His hands clasped the hilt of his sword, and his stance widened, body low and ready. His eyes softened and unfocused, his senses spreading wide as his gaze drifted, settling on nothing- lost in the vastness of the rain-soaked jungle.

His eyes relaxed and set forward yet latched onto nothing, focused on nothing and everything, embracing the full breadth of his peripheral vision. Peripheral vision, he knew, was a fighter's ally. It grasped even the most minute of movements in detail, without the need to focus on anything at all. peripheral vision in combat was to grasp all details and movements, even the most remote and minute in the corner of one’s vision without having to look at anything in particular, it could allow you to recognise feints, or plant feints and tricks if your own using your eyes as decoys. And now, It allowed Alex to perceive the movements of each tree, each branch of the jungle below, every single one. Not by direct sight but through the subtlest shifts in the periphery. It was as Bruce Lee might say, not looking at the moon or the finger pointing to it, but being wholly aware of both, and everything else in between, noticing any shift or tremor.

Alex drew his sword and slashed; a raindrop was split in two. He slashed again and again, each time severing or swiping raindrops away. Time hadn't slowed, and the world hadn't stilled; the rain fell fast. Yet, he saw everything. Every drop was in his vision, he could probably count them if he was truly present, instead of unfocused, and if he was any good at subitizing.

Honed to perfection and qualitatively multiplied by almost 100 stats, Alex could instantly grasp all movements within 180 degrees, or 360 degrees if he shifted his head slightly to the right or left.

He cleaved a raindrop, watching its remnants scatter as he cleaved two more, and yet his head barely moved. Like most things, this could be trained. The brain could work in a myriad of ways modern life had erased. You could train both arms to move independently, play the piano with one hand while assembling a PC with the other. Or catch two fists from two different opponents at two entirely different angles. There were two stages to this, he had learned, the first was muscle memory; the act of moving conscious actions partially or completely into the realm of subconscious- effectively turning a complex action or task into something of a subroutine, something that required no attention. The second stage was to train your brain's muscle memory, to acclimate a brain to processing and receive multiple points of information at once. You could watch a movie while listening to a radio show and keep track of both, eventually. Or read an article while holding a conversation. Or like some crazy people back to earth had done for no particular reason- effortlessly juggle live chainsaws. Without magic and with nothing but the mundane, you could train your brain to do almost anything. To expand it in ways that would seem impressive or impossible to most, and the path to such expansion was simple; repetition.

It was a concept Alex was intimately familiar with, he had been doing it for years. Decades. And the system had taken it and made it more.

He was in a trance, slashing in practiced movements, movements repeated so many times he didn't think as his arms moved. His training in kendo and the arts of the sword became a whirlwind of inhuman speed, each stroke landing with unerring precision.

He stood and sheathed his sword in one swift movement, and for a brief second, the world within the reach of his blade stilled. Only a few drops of rain fell within his space. Ten, he realized. Within a sphere above and around him, the world was dry, in contrast to the deluge that assaulted the jungle. It was as if his sword had carved reality.

The second ended, and the rain fell.

He sighed, straightened, and relaxed. His thoughts on the nature of stats and evolution. Intelligence, strength, and dexterity huh… not bad. He did not regret that decision at all.

He looked down towards the jungle. And looked at an element that had been the cause of most of his problems in his otherwise peaceful cave.

There was and had been, of course, another puzzle that kept his mind occupied. The Wolf tribe. In the belly of the mountain's shadow, a gathering of wolfmen, about a thousand strong, lived. Guarded by horned wolves, their camp sprawled at the base of the mountain.

His vantage point provided a clear view of their camp, the bonfires casting long, winding shadows on the rugged wolfmen. Every night, they'd engage in battles, their howls and the clash of their weapons echoing in the silent night air. The moment a victor emerged, the camp would erupt, their celebrations wild and filled with fervor. Their leader was a hulking beast, a wolfman with a mane as grey as the twilight sky. The Alpha.

One night, he observed a fierce battle. The Alpha, that mountain of a wolfman, wreathed in a strange burning halo, had taken on three challengers.

Its strength was beyond anything Alex had imagined and left him gaping in wonder and dread. He watched as the leader effortlessly tossed one of his opponents like a rag doll, the other two barely managing to dodge their airborne comrade.

Each resounding clash, each bestial growl, blasted through the calls and screams of the jungle, it was a savage brawl that had the entire camp - and Alex - watching with bated breath. The alpha had tossed them aside as if they were mere playthings, not even using whatever strange skill caused it to be submerged in a halo of flames.

He still wondered what level that thing was.

In the aftermath of the battle, the wolf tribe's primal celebration had an almost mesmerising effect. Their unified howls tore through the air overpowering the sounds of the jungle, resonating with a wild melody that gripped Alex's senses. The haunting nightly sounds were a constant reminder of the imminent clash he would have to face to claim greater power.

Despite the odds stacked against him, Alex still wanted to complete the final quest, to gain as much strength as he could, and prepare to face the outside world, and ‘worlds’ apparently. But looking at the numbers, at the raw power that radiated from the camp below, he had no idea how to achieve it. Despite successfully ambushing many wolf guards, hunters, and packs that ventured out of the camp, it made no difference. They only became more watchful, sending out larger numbers and their strongest warriors. He found himself outnumbered a thousand to one, with the odds not in his favor.

He needed a plan. But what kind of plan could stand against such an overwhelming force?

He sighed, pushing himself to his feet. The false daylight had completely disappeared, replaced by a beautifully breathtaking nebula of twinkling and sifting stars. With a final glance at the moonless night sky, Alex went inside his cave to prepare some sort of plan to tackle the dungeons' impossible challenge, and get some sleep.

***

An explosion. A brutal, ear-splitting noise tore through the tranquillity of the night.

Startled awake, Alex shot up in his makeshift bed. The scent of smoke and burning wood immediately invaded his senses, causing him to choke. He dashed to the cave entrance, his heart pounding a drum of war in delirium as his gaze swept over the landscape.

His eyes widened.

The jungle was ablaze.

What he saw was chaos. Below, the jungle had morphed into a violent battlefield. Flames devoured the once lush foliage, illuminating the horrific scene in a harsh blaze. In the distance, he saw the battles raging. It was a wild melee, a mad dance of death. The wolfmen and monstrous gorillas were locked in a brutal struggle at the foot of the mountain. They clashed amidst the inferno, their cries and roars reverberating into the night as his gaze followed a stark black line from the mountain to the portal, a trail of charred trees and scorched earth. A distinct path of utter devastation, a black streak of crushed and charred jungle that stretched from the mystic portal to the mountain. Something had torn through the forest with unfathomable force.

An invasion.

Or war, maybe. Alex couldn't be sure. Something had clearly erupted from the portal, something violent, and the wolfmen camp had borne the brunt of it. A swath of charred earth and twisted trees connected the mountain to the portal, an obvious trace of some powerful rampaging force. Still, from this distance, it was difficult to discern details. He squinted, trying to make out the specifics.

Bodies lay strewn across the earth, wolfmen and titanapes alike, and the sight of a charred trail slicing through the heart of the jungle made his pulse quicken in concern. Multicoloured lights flashed violently amidst the inferno, a macabre light show of offensive magic that painted a vivid tableau of destruction and death.

What had happened?

The scarred path suggested an incursion - something monstrous had emerged from the portal, trampling anything in its path. Alex drank in the sight, his eyes absorbing the chaos with shock. His jaw clenched, the depth of the situation drawing a thin line between his brows. He realised that he was lucky to be alive. The scar on the face of the jungle, the gaping wound of charred earth and scorched trees, seared from the portal at the foot of the mountain in one fell swoop, leading right up to where he stood.

His breath hitched.

Invasion. War. Destruction. Thoughts collided in his mind as he tried to piece together what had occurred.

Hundreds of wolfmen and giant gorillas were still engaged in the relentless battle. Despite all the patrols he'd defeated, there seemed no end to the ranks of wolfmen and titanapes. A sense of frustrating insignificance washed over him. The scale of the struggle dwarfing anything he'd previously faced. All he could do was watch, a lone spectator to the savage ballet. But that was fine. He could use this to his advantage, wait for an opportunity to strike, maybe after the war was nearing its end, he would be able to ‘conquer’ the wounded survivors somehow? After all, There was no limit on how long he needed to be here.

Time was on his side.

But his thoughts were suddenly cut short.

A loud chime. The tell-tale sign of a system message, snapped him back to the harsh reality of his situation.

[Dynamic Quest - Incursion Event: A juvenile phoenix, the world spirit of planet designation ‘Titanhold’ is rebirthing at the head of the mountain. Seize its ashes before the Apex Canid’s and Titanape’s leaders to gain a glimpse of immortality!

Reward: Insight of the Phoenix]

For a moment, the jungle seemed to stand still and a stunned silence enveloped the scene. Even the fiercest battles paused, as if the denizens of the jungle, too, had received the same message. The silence was deafening, a stark contrast to the recent chaos. Alex could almost feel the collective intake of breath, the shared moment of comprehension.

And then, they moved. A mass of fur and muscle, all discarding their battles to race up the mountain, the silence shattered as the battlefield erupted once more. Alex could feel the ground shaking ad trembling beneath their charge. He momentarily froze before taking action once he realised what was happening, and clutched his remaining skill crystal in his hand, intent on using it.

They were coming. Every wolfman, every monstrous gorilla, hundreds of them were all rushing up the mountain in leaps and bounds.

Directly towards Alex.

Time-Smith - Chapter 9: Pyrrhic victory

Evan sat on the edge of the training room's cushioned mat, his world spinning, and his stomach churning.

When he returned to the present, he felt a burst of powerful mana and meaning flood his mind, almost threatening to overwhelm him. At first, he had been too overwhelmed with nausea to acknowledge it, but he could still feel it. He could still feel the strange package of infinite and potent golden mana stored in his mind, almost begging for his attention, asking him to tap into it.

It was something he had never seen before. The mana felt strange, more potent than anything he had ever experienced. And it seemed immovable, like it existed outside of him, and was merely occupying the space in his mind, it felt almost divine. He sent a tentative, wary stream of the mana from his third skill, to see what this strange intrusion was.

When his mana made contact with the golden package of divine mana, meaning once again exploded into his being, its words imprinted into his mind's eye.

[Feat Recognised!]

[Skill Synergy achieved!]

[Blended Skills achieved!]

[Subskill Postcognition: Time Travel - Echo Of The Past obtained!]

Evans face twisted in a mixture of confusion and wonderment. Blended Skills? and Skill Synergy? The very mention of these elusive concepts sent a surge of excitement running through him. Evan was dumbfounded... Was this the system? The divine system, the pinnacle of human potential? The thought alone was both exhilarating and terrifying. He couldn't believe it. He had just seen a notification.

Everyone knew of the existence of the divine system, a creation of the long-dead gods, but only a few would see it more than once. The system was a rare phenomenon, only bestowed upon those who achieved greatness, who surpassed the boundaries of what was believed possible. 'Skill Evolutions', 'Blended Skills', and 'Skill Synergy' were the hallmarks of extraordinary individuals, the chosen few who dared to dream and pushed the limits of their capabilities. They were the pinnacle of human potential, marking extraordinary breakthroughs that defied the bounds of what was believed possible. And now, Evan stood at the precipice of this extraordinary realm, a glimpse into the realm of gods.

Something most people dreamed of. It appeared sparingly in the lives of adventurers and occasionally exceptional hunters, individuals who braved dangers and experienced the unimaginable. Their actions and their accomplishments, sometimes opened the door to the divine system.

He reviewed the final piece of divine meaning, a Subskill.

[Postcognition: Time Travel - Echo Of The Past]

His skill's ability to see into the past was never meant to be this powerful, he thought, as he rubbed his temples with his fingertips, still amazed. Just 30 minutes at best, an hour if he was gifted. But there he was, thrust into what must have been his own private version of the past, reliving moments that humanity had forgotten, a glimpse into a distant time that he had no business seeing. His skill had been influenced by [Teleportation], and his third skill. It had become unique. His skill, body, and mind could now withstand his consciousness being teleported to a reconstruction of the past, something that would otherwise be impossible, for anyone without his unique combination of skills. So all this time he hadn't been traveling to the future, but the past. His skill must have taken him only seconds into the past, and allowed him to see and live through the future. This was huge. If he could relive the past, and the near-future with no consequences, he could do anything.

He shuddered, rubbing his neck. Well, with some consequences. His death had felt so real, it was sickening. He never wanted to experience that again though, nothing was worth experiencing death. He had barely avoided the deadly blows that came his way. It was the worst feeling of his life. He remembered Lady Sariel's eyes on him, unfeeling as she watched his every move, as if she were playing a game and he was the pawn. The strange look of pity she had held as she beheaded him filled him with rage.

“Evan, you’re bleeding” he felt Lucia's hand touch on his shoulder.

He glanced down and noticed his clenched fists. He forced himself to let go.

He had still been alive those last few seconds. his body lying in a pool of his own blood. Evan had felt the impact reverberate through his body.

He had never felt so outmatched in his life, he could never allow that to happen again.

"What happened…bad skill?" Lucia asked, concern etched into the lines of her face.

He looked up at Maximus, who was watching from the side-lines, his arms folded across his broad chest. "Can we have some privacy, sir?" Even asked, his voice shaking slightly.

Maximus nodded, and without a word, he strode from the room, his footsteps echoing in the silence.

Evan shook his head, his gaze flicking up to meet Lucia's. "I don't know," he said, his voice rough. "It's never been like this before. I saw things that I shouldn't have seen. I... I need to talk to you, both of you."

The training hall was dimly lit as the sun was setting, smelled of leather padding and incense. There were a few soft benches, targets, and weapons racks lining the walls. Evan collapsed onto one of the benches, his eyes staring off into the distance as Lucia & Marcus followed.

"My Skill, it's...changed. I saw something, something that I shouldn't have been able to see. In the past." Evan's voice trailed off as he struggled to hold back tears.

“In this room?” Marcus asked, shifting closer, growing concerned “did something happen?”

"What did you see?" Lucia asked, her voice soft. They had never seen Evan this shaken, even as kids.

Evan took a deep breath, his hands shaking. "I saw someone die," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I saw... I saw things that I don't understand. It was like I was living in the past."

“I died”

Lucia exchanged a worried glance with Marcus, her fingers toying with the straps of her training sword. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice hesitant.

Evan took another deep breath and focused his eyes on some far-off point in the distance. "I saw... I saw things that I can't explain. Memories I didn't even know I had surfaced. And I died, Luci. It was... brutal. I was too weak. I can still feel it."

Marcus looked around the room, so did Lucia, “nobody has died here, everyone would know, it's impossible, Ev”

This secret was almost as bad as his third skill, but he’d known these two his whole life. They were pretty much family at this point, he knew he could trust them with anything. But he just couldn't imagine them lasting two seconds against Ari, Lady Sariel, and Kael; if he told them, he’d be putting them in danger too. Evan hesitated for a moment. before launching into the story of his vision, or a version of it. He spoke of the darkness that had surrounded him, the feeling of cold metal against his skin, of fighting to survive and the sound of his own screams echoing in his ears... of the pain. But he left out the parts about the gods, about his attackers identities, about his entire experience.

Lucia's eyes widened in shock, and she put a comforting hand on Evan's arm. "That sounds terrible," she said softly.

"But that's not the worst part," he said, “I feel like it could happen, for real. It’s not the future, but i know it could”

The three of them sat there in silence for a moment.

“How exactly did you die?” Marcus asked, breaking the silence.

Evan sighed, and looked up, clenching the wound on his fist. “I was attacked, & I wasn't strong enough. I was too weak. We’re all too weak” he smashed the bench in front of them, cleaving it in two, his emotional state causing him to lose control.

Marcus & Lucia paused. This, they had seen before; Evan had always been unusually strong.

“Look, I know it was terrible. But you’re not alone. We’ll figure this out, Ev. We will find a way to stop it from happening," Markus turned to face him too.

Marcus leaned forward, his voice uncharacteristically serious, low and steady. "We'll help you," he said, his hand resting on Evan's shoulder. "We'll make sure that we’re all ready. You’re not going to die, no way, never” Evan leaned back and looked at Marcus. He was starting to wonder if his confession had somehow turned his friend into a solemn stoic. The bench creaked as Marcus slightly increased his weight, grinning “and besides, you have us here with you. I get that you might feel weak, but nobody’s going to beat me." Ah. There he was.

Marcus leaned back and looked to the ceiling, joining Evan.

"Well, at least you know how you're going to go," Lucia chimed in.

Evan managed a small smile in response before looking up at the ceiling too, joining his friends in looking at nothing, Lucia sat between them.

Lucia smiled, her fingers brushing his cheek. "You don't have to worry," she said, her voice firm. "We're in this together. We'll make sure that we’re ready for whatever vision you had, or whoever comes."

"Thank you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you both. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Evan smiled weakly, his eyes closing, not sure if they'd heard.

They were right, but the thought of his friends fighting those three monsters made his stomach churn. No, he’d have to do this himself.

He had slid across surfaces, ran on walls, and even bounced off blades and constructs in his desperate bid to survive. And he had still been too weak, they had treated him like a toy. He could still feel the blade against his neck, a numb sensation all over his body in all the places he’d been pierced. He felt sick. And yet, he couldn't shake the feeling that he had just witnessed something important, something that could change everything. With a deep breath, he stood.

He couldn't face that again, the feeling of everything slipping away. He refused to lose his life, see his blood flow freely, controlled by someone else. He couldn't.

No, they would die. Anyone who wanted his skills, or his friends, or his family, would die. Or be beaten so badly they’d never come back. He needed to be the one who never moved a muscle as his enemies fought him with everything they had, knowing they would lose. He had to have the power to protect his life.

He needed to head into the forest, to the ruins. The dungeons. He needed those artifacts. He needed strength. He needed to practise his skills, all of them, and push them to the limit and then on to even further limits. He needed power. He swore he would never die again.

Evan activated all of his skills and flung himself through time.

***

When he arrived in the past, a vast, empty landscape with the sun hanging low among the sand dunes around him greeted him. He could hear thunder crackling in the distance.

"Okay, Evan, focus," he muttered to himself, taking deep breaths to calm his racing heart. "This is it. Time to experiment."

He raised his hand, studying it. He couldn't see any physical changes, but he knew the magic lay dormant beneath his skin.

Let's start small, he thought, reaching out and touching the tip of his index finger. Just a little tweak.

Soul of Blades - Chapter 8: Four Options

Lost in the black expanse, he floated. A kendo practitioner reborn in a world not his own, a vast void Alex had felt only once before; a void reminiscent of his reincarnation. The dark emptiness stretched out, endless.

A system message appeared, distorted. Its holographic characters glitching, flickering.

Then, abruptly, the holographic chaos settled. Four notifications blinked into focus, their presence grounding him, anchoring him to the ephemeral reality of the dungeon.

[System Message: Choose two of 4 Skills]

[F-grade Skill 1: Bladed Palm (Duration: 1 min): User's palms become as sharp as blades, allowing precision strikes and deep wounds, capable of severing vital points.]

[F-grade Skill 2: Phoenix Leap (Cooldown: 1 sec): Enables user to perform a powerful leap, evading or engaging enemies with the agility of a Phoenix, easily overcoming obstacles.]

[F-grade Skill 3: Galefoot Technique (Duration: 1 min): footwork becomes as swift and graceful as a gust of wind, allowing the user to traverse difficult terrains or engage opponents with unmatched agility and precision.]

[F-grade Skill 4: Phoenix Fist (Duration: 10 sec): unarmed strikes become infused with the fiery essence of the phoenix, burning opponents upon impact and leaving them in a state of constant pain.]

Galefoot Technique promised swift movement. The thought of evading attacks with the grace of a gust of wind sparked hope. But the fleeting nature of this skill worried him. One minute of speed, and then? He could be stranded amidst hungry beasts.

Phoenix Fist painted an image of his fists engulfed in fire, a terrifying sight for any enemy. Ten seconds of burning brilliance, though, seemed too brief. A cooldown period of unknown length? Or maybe it didn't have a cooldown? That was a gamble he wasn't willing to take.

"Bladed Palm," he mused. A single-minute of razor-edged destruction. a deadly weapon, turning his hands into lethal instruments. The idea of transforming his palms into blades appealed to his kendo instincts, the thrill of the strike, the satisfaction of a clean cut. Alex could imagine it, the metallic tang of blood on his hands.

Phoenix Leap, however, promised a different kind of power – a fluidity of motion, evasive and offensive in equal measure. An explosive movement, agile as a Phoenix in flight. That must have been how the wolfmen- the Canids had leapt off nothing but air. A skill to escape or engage, a shield and a sword in one. He thought of the leap he had taken over the red grass, of the rush and the thrill, and the mental image of himself soaring above and around his adversaries in a blur of blades, utilising terrain to his advantage. It filled him with anticipation.

And yet… the system had glitched.

The flickering system message troubled him. He wondered whether the glitch was a result of the skill crystal. Are these notifications even reliable? He thought. The strange sight was both surreal and deeply concerning, it felt like his lifeline to understanding this world was fraying. But either way what choice did he really have?

It was do, or die.

"Phoenix Leap, and Bladed Palm" he decided aloud. The utility, the freedom it offered was too enticing to pass. A three-in-one skill: offensive, defensive, mobility. He could already see himself in mid-air, the world slowing down as he soared. And with each upgrade, he imagined, the cooldown would decrease or even disappear completely.

Instantly, the system reacted.

[Grade F Skill: Phoenix Leap (active) selected!]

Then, the holographic panel turned blood-red. A jumbled mess of glyphs across it, a confusing mess of symbols that made no sense. His heart skipped a beat as he saw the crimson message.

[Grade S Skill: ̷̸̵̴̶̷̸̟̮̙͚̪̟͇͕̲̳̱̺̥̮̔͂̀͒ͅ ̶̵̴̶̷̶̯͇̲̳̱̼̲̈́̈͛͋͐͋͂ͅ ̷̷̶̴̵̶̷̸̴̶̷̵̢̳̮̲̳̱͉̗̣̲̳̱̏̄̑͐͛͝͠A̷̶̵̴̲̳̱l̸̢͉̗̣̑͐͛à̸̺̥̮͒ͅΩ̴̵̶̷̲̳̱ ̶̶̯͇̼̲̈́̈͛͋͐͋͂ͅ ̷̷̶̴̵̶̷̴̶̷̵̳̮̲̳̱̲̳̱̏̄͝͠g̵̶̷̴̲̳̱e̸̪̟͇͕͂e̶̷̵̴̲̳̱E̵̴̶̷̶̵̴̶̷̷̸̸̢̲̳̱̼̲̲̳̱̟̮̙͚͉̗̣̺̥̮͋͐͋͂̔̑͐͛̀͒ͅͅ ̶̷̶̴̵̶̷̯͇̲̳̱̈́̈͛ ̷̸̴̶̷̵̳̮̪̟͇͕̲̳̱̏̄͂͝͠M̷̶̵̴̲̳̱m̸̵̴̶̷̸̷̸̴̶̷̵̢͉̗̣̲̳̱̪̟͇͕̟̮̙͚̺̥̮̲̳̱̑͐͛͂̔̀͒ͅ ̶̯͇̈́̈͛ ̷̸̶̢̳̮͉̗̣̼̲̏̄̑͐͛͋͐͋͂͝͠ͅO̷̟̮̙͚̔o̶̼̲͋͐͋͂ͅᾯ̴̵̶̷̵̴̶̷̷̸̸̸̢̲̳̱̲̳̱̟̮̙͚̪̟͇͕͉̗̣̺̥̮̑͐͛̀͒ ̶̯͇̈́̈͛ ̷̶͎̠̠̖̼̲̿́͋͐͋͂ͅ ̷̳̮̏̄͝͠ ̷̶̴̵̶̷̵̴̶̷̴̶̷̵̲̳̱̲̳̱̲̳̱ (passive) selected!]

His heart jumped, his non-existent body convulsed. Pain, white-hot and blinding, lashed through him. The void rejected him, sending him spiralling back to reality. He was back, crumpled on the jungle floor, the moist earth cooling his heated skin.

Alex blinked, the glitching system messages still seared into his vision. His choice, his action, had turned into an unexpected consequence. He had chosen the Phoenix Leap, but the system had granted him something else. Something unknown.

Back amidst the carnage of his last battle, he took a moment, steadying his breath, his mind churning. What had happened? What had the system given him? Questions spiralled, demanding answers. And in the quiet of the jungle, for once, Alex felt he knew what to do.

“Status” he muttered.

A holographic screen sprung to life before him once again, the reassuring hum of the system interface cutting through the silence.

[Gained Legendary Feat: "Pinnacle" First to acquire skill in inductee world - all stats + 2]

[Pinnacle > Pinnacle I: First to receive higher grade skill - All stats + 2. All stats +1%.]

[Pinnacle I > Pinnacle IV: First to receive skill 5 grades higher - All stats + 10. All stats +5%.]

[Name: Alex Ironwood

Level: 6

Race: Human - Rank F

Primary Class: Locked

Sub-class: Locked

Strength: 54 (37)

Dexterity: 45 (31)

Endurance: 48 (33)

Intelligence: 54 (37)

Wisdom: 26 (18)

Feats: First Encounter, Pioneer, Pinnacle IV,

Skills: Phoenix Leap, A̷̶̵̴̲̳̱l̸̢͉̗̣̑͐͛à̸̶̵̴̶̷̶̺̥̮̯͇̲̳̱̼̲͒̈́̈͛͋͐͋͂ͅͅ ̷̷̶̴̵̶̷̸̴̶̷̵̢̳̮̲̳̱͉̗̣̲̳̱̏̄̑͐͛͝͠Ω̴̵̶̷̲̳̱ ̶̶̯͇̼̲̈́̈͛͋͐͋͂ͅ ̷̷̶̴̵̶̷̴̶̷̵̳̮̲̳̱̲̳̱̏̄͝͠g̵̶̷̴̲̳̱e̸̪̟͇͕͂e̶̷̵̴̲̳̱E̵̴̶̷̶̵̴̶̷̷̸̸̢̲̳̱̼̲̲̳̱̟̮̙͚͉̗̣̺̥̮͋͐͋͂̔̑͐͛̀͒ͅͅ ̶̷̶̴̵̶̷̯͇̲̳̱̈́̈͛ ̷̸̴̶̷̵̳̮̪̟͇͕̲̳̱̏̄͂͝͠M̷̶̵̴̲̳̱m̸̵̴̶̷̸̷̸̴̶̷̵̢͉̗̣̲̳̱̪̟͇͕̟̮̙͚̺̥̮̲̳̱̑͐͛͂̔̀͒ͅ ̶̯͇̈́̈͛ ̷̸̶̢̳̮͉̗̣̼̲̏̄̑͐͛͋͐͋͂͝͠ͅO̷̟̮̙͚̔o̶̼̲͋͐͋͂ͅᾯ̴̵̶̷̵̴̶̷̷̸̸̸̢̲̳̱̲̳̱̟̮̙͚̪̟͇͕͉̗̣̺̥̮̑͐͛̀͒ ̶̯͇̈́̈͛ ̷̶͎̠̠̖̼̲̿́͋͐͋͂ͅ ̷̳̮̏̄͝͠ ̷̶̴̵̶̷̵̴̶̷̴̶̷̵̲̳̱̲̳̱̲̳̱ ,

Dao:

Unassigned stat points: 0]

He’d gained 71 stats in a short time, just from his feats and feat bonuses alone. That was almost 14 extra levels worth of stats gained from his new feats alone, it was unbelievable. He’d need to figure out a way to get more feats, as many as possible.

It put him on equal ground with someone at level 35, in terms of stats alone. As long as they had no magical skills of their own, he would in theory be able battle them on equal terms. A 45% increase in his base stats. It was an insane bonus, and one he planned to take advantage of.

He tore his attention away from his newfound strength, and focused on more immediate concerns; his system. His eyes darted over his status, scanning for any anomalies. The same jumbled mess of symbols from before greeted him under 'Skills', causing a spike of agitation.

Rising to his feet, he surveyed the surrounding jungle. The distant calls of unknown creatures cut through the stillness - predators, drawn to the scent of blood. The thought sparked a bitter smile. The scent of spilled blood would probably act as a lure, calling every predator lurking in range within the dense jungle. An invitation to a feast.

“Great, more food for Plantie,” he mumbled.

Plantie? He pondered on that. He would have to come up with a more befitting name for his green, or was it red? Saviour. Maybe…Ramus, Latin for branch. It seemed apt for a plant that used such deadly buried vines.

Nah, Plantie is a much better name, he decided.

His lips twitched into a smile as he officially dubbed the carnivorous plant that had saved his life, 'Plantie.'

The strange glitch in the system, his lifeline, had distracted him from something that had made him restless with excitement since he got here. Something he would've thought impossible a few hours ago. He had skills now. Magic.

And he couldn't wait to test it out.

Steeling his nerves and excitement, Alex crouched low, his muscles coiling like taut springs. He felt the raw power of his stats humming, the mana infusing his very being, a thrilling vibration that strummed along his nerves. With a thought, he released it, catapulting himself into the air. The sensation was extraordinary, akin to breaking free from invisible shackles, a sudden liberation that resonated in his very bones.

His feet left the ground, his body shooting upwards with a force that left a small crater in the soft soil where he stood. The world blurred around him as he soared, the wind whistling in his ears. His hair brushed against the rough foliage of the jungle canopy, a sharp contrast to the whisper-soft touch of the air against his skin. For a moment, he was lost in the exhilaration of freedom, his heart pounding with wild abandon.

Phoenix leap he thought.

Energy erupted from his heart, swirling around his legs like an ethereal cyclone. He felt solid ground beneath his feet, an invisible platform in the sky.

With a swift thought, the energy propelled him ahead at speed, his body whizzing through the humid air like a comet. The wind lashed his face, carrying the distinct scent of the wild. His feet met the earth again in a shower of dirt, his body sliding across the jungle floor. A thrill surged through him as the earth sprayed around him in a divot.

He dusted himself off and straightened, looking back at the distance he had covered. An amazing leap. It had felt like he‘d instantly gained a new set of instincts, as if he’d known how to do that his whole life. possibilities unfolded before him, did he have to jump to activate it? Could he stand still and let the mana propel him in any direction? what if he inverted the panel, and used it to create A telekinetic blast? Alex reactivated the skill, and instantly his thoughts and instincts reverted to the set forms and moves of the skill, it was as if he had no choice but to perform it within the systems parameters. That was unacceptable. He exerted his will, concentrating until a migraine almost formed, and succeeded in altering just the speed at which the panel formed- only slightly- increasing it. It was a limited success In fighting his new instincts, and one he’d need to work on to truly adapt to the skill.

But why was it so difficult? Wasn’t the mana his own? Why couldn’t he do what he wanted with it, and experiment? Had the system altered his brain? Injecting him with new instincts, and new limitations? That was… concerning.

A mild concern grew but was momentarily dismissed as his eyes flicked to the red glow of the jumbled system panel.

The glitched skill.

It was 'Grade S', that had to be incredible, right? What was it? Could he risk activating it?

It was too tempting not to try. Despite the risk, it could be something that could help him escape the dungeon. Activate, he thought.

Nothing happened.

Trigger skill, trigger glitch, skill activate. Still nothing. He peered at his status, trying to discern the the jumbled letters and twisted symbols that made up the skills name “Algoemo” he muttered, reading the name. Still nothing happened. He peered closer, “Agemo?”, his mana remained static, lifeless. The skill would not work.

Great, a useless skill. Bladed palm would’ve been so much better, what a waste.

With a sigh, Alex looked down at the remaining crystal. Uncertainty twirled in his mind like an insidious snake. A buggy system. A faulty skill. Was it worth the risk? What if this one was a dud too? Or even had negative effects? He couldn’t be sure, and decided to save his final skill crystal and inspect it later, when he was in a safer and more secure environment. If something went wrong here, he’d be a sitting duck for any roaming predator. He would find a location and secure it, and then inspect his final skill crystal. On the bright side though, I pretty much just did something impossible. His mind turned to his one working skill, and despite his concerns over his other glitched and useless skill, the thrill of his leap was intoxicating.

Skills. Power. If this was just a taste, then he needed more, he’d just have to figure out how to use a skill crystal without it malfunctioning.

The rush he’d felt still suffused him. It was kind of addictive.

He thought of the possibilities the working skill allowed him. With the bronze sword he held and phoenix leap, a multiple-strike kendo combination would be childsplay. He could attack from all sides. His grandfather had called it the dou tsuki dou.

His hand clenched around the sword he’d acquired. Raising the sword, he caught a glimpse of his reflection and realised he didn’t recognise the person staring back at him. It wasn’t exactly a stranger in the reflection, but someone he hadn't seen in a very long time.

Is that really me? It looks like me but... much younger. God, I look like I'm barely out of college.

Alex's hands, absent of their age-worn lines, held the sword with surprising steadiness, and his eyes widened as he scrutinized his reflection in the bronze sword. He was younger, much younger. About 20, maybe even 25 years younger. If he had to guess his new age, it would be in the very early twenties. Maybe twenty-one?

He adjusted the sword's angle for a better view. No crow's feet, no gray stubble. I'd say I'm what, early twenties? Maybe 21? 22? Is this for real?

That would explain why all of the aches and pains he had grown accustomed to over the last two decades had disappeared entirely. The sword felt lighter than it should, but then, everything felt different—better. He'd felt invigorated since arriving here—reborn even—but he'd attributed that to being just an effect of his stats, but he had been wrong. It was so much more.

It was a second chance, in more ways than one.

He needed to find and defeat the guardians, all of them. And locate the base of the wolf tribe. His strength had increased, more than he could have imagined, with his victory over the Wolfmen, and the feats he had achieved. He could achieve more. But first, he needed to rest.

He glanced back at the clock in his quest panel. Not even two hours. It felt much longer, with his life rewritten, his body reforged, and his world upended. Alex needed to do some reconnaissance, and build a base. The survivor feat would halve his need for sustenance, was mana a form of sustenance? It had to be… what if the higher tiers of the feat halved his cooldowns, or extended his skill lengths. He needed that feat and all it had to offer. He would have to live here for a week.

Alex’s gaze trailed off towards the distance, finding its mark on the imposing mountain. A climb that’d wind him but reward him, offering a chance to size up the island that had become his survival ring. He could make out spots that might make good hideouts, streams that held the promise of fresh water and, if luck was on his side, maybe a decent meal that didn't involve wrestling with an oversized wolf. Somewhere to bunk down that wasn't swarming with giant creepy crawlies.

He rolled his shoulders, letting the tension bleed out, and his boots crunched on the wild undergrowth as he made that first decisive step.

One boot-laden foot in front of the other, the call of the wild replaced by the crunch of dried leaves beneath his boots. His heart beating gently in his chest, keeping pace with each step. Alive. He was really alive. Surviving, even. What would his friends, his sister, and his grandfather think if they could see him now? They would probably nod approvingly or say something ridiculously inappropriate. He gave a half-hearted chuckle at the thought, his breath misting in the cool jungle air.

Alex ventured deeper, the jungle floor crunching under his feet, deeper into the jungle amidst the howls and cries of monsters...and vanished in its depths.

Time-Smith - Chapter 8: Blood Diamond - Part 2

*A few seconds earlier*

Evan breathed a sigh of relief, having negotiated his safety in one of the most dangerous rooms in the city, and to one of its most dangerous citizens.

Through promises to deliver artifacts of the Old Gods… great. He thought, the reality of his false promises dousing the fire of his freedom. His freedom depended on him entering dungeons and historical sites; places so filled and twisted by immensely powerful magic that they warped the land and all who entered it. Very few made it out of those sites alive. But those who did always left greater than they had entered. All of them.

It was ironic, his safety and the safety of all he held dear depended on him courting death.  Repeatedly. He would have chuckled if every movement didn’t cause him pain.

But on the bright side, at least he knew where some of the sites and artifacts were now.

He winced in pain as he lay on the ground, injured and impaled, but alive, as Lady Sariel greeted her bodyguard and then her healer.

"Thank you for coming," Lady Sariel said, as she turned from Kael to Ari, gently taking her hand. "I need your skills."

Ari nodded, her face serious. "That's rare", she raised her hand, blood pooling in front of her open palm, coalescing into a long glistening, ruby coloured spike. “Which skill?” she said. She, too, glanced at Evan prone and bloody form, her head jerking in his direction. “He hurt you?”

The lady chuckled. “Just heal him,” she said. Lady Sariel smiled, though there was little mirth in the expression.

Evan was still spread out, face down, breathing heavily. He rolled onto his back, in a swirl of pain and exhaustion, slightly irritated at being the topic of a discussion he wasn't part of.

As Ari approached him, the ruby-red spike was replaced with a soft light from her palm that mended the holes in Evan's body. Lady Sariel hesitated as if a thought had just occurred to her.

"Oh, he seems to have unusual stamina. Do investigate while you heal him. Can you find anything in his blood?"

Deeply exasperated, Evan breathed. "What could you possibly do with my mundane skills?" Evan asked. The healer, Ari, seemed to agree. "It's not like you need them, surely you already have an eternity's worth."

*The present*

Shock widened their eyes as the three froze. Lady Sariel's expression turned cold and hard as she stepped forward.

"What do you mean by that?" she demanded, her voice low and dangerous. Light sparkled around her like dust as microscopic diamonds, no doubt, sprang into existence. They increased in size with jerky cracks and pops, hundreds of times each second until they became visible and under her complete control.

A sickening wave of dread washed over Evan. He had just let slip something that he shouldn't have and couldn't possibly have known.

Before he had a chance to react, the bodyguard, Kael, grabbed him by the collar and slammed him against the wall. He hadn’t even seen him move.

Evan teleported away, relieved that he hadn't taken the guard with him.

Evan stood at the far end of the room. He was back to square one. Escape now came with even worse odds. Everyone knew the bodyguard's skills; his [Time Dilation] ability allowed him to slow down or speed up his own personal time in a localized area immediately around his skin, giving the guard an advantage in combat. But what the guard Kael was most famous for was his ability to control probability. He could vastly increase his own personal luck, he would get juiced up on luck during battle. As luck coursed through his veins, he’d feel a rush of euphoria. He’d feel as if he was invincible, like he could conquer anything. The more he increased his luck, the worse his high would get, impairing his decision-making. But as the luck faded, a deep sense of emptiness would settle in, leaving him exhausted, paranoid, and desperate for more. His skill, [Probability Manipulation], required a high level of self mastery. The healer clearly had a healing skill and some form of blood manipulation, if the weird blood ruby spike earlier was anything to go by.

He had never faced opponents like these before. Somehow, he would have to make do. If he were to use all of his skills, no one could leave the room alive. He would die in the attempt to keep his secret. Or it would die with him.

"I...It’s just an expression," he stammered, desperately trying to come up with a convincing lie.

But it was already too late. The healer and the guard were advancing on him, their weapons raised. Blood pooling around her robe and tight muscles to form a strange, almost artificed form fitting shell, that moved like a second ruby armoured skin, a deep shade of red. Evan knew that he had to act fast. He focused all of his energy on his skill, willing it to work.

"I wouldn't try that if I were you," the guard snarled, his hand tightening around the hilt of his sword.

"Step aside," the healer growled, her hands crackling with power. "I will take care of this."

Evan's eyes darted to Lady Sariel, who stood silently, sternly watching the unfolding scene. This was the first time since he arrived here that she seemed attentive, completely here. He knew that she was the most dangerous of them all, with her dominion over the minerals in the room. Her diamond constructs floated menacingly around her, waiting for her command.

Lady Sariel's personal healer and guard stepped forward, their eyes fixed on Evan. The healer, dressed in flowing robes stained with blood, flexed her muscles underneath the strange, artificed shell that glimmered like ruby armour. The guard, his eyes wild from what must have been a state of heightened luck, began to move. His movements grew sharper and faster with each passing moment

With a burst of motion, Evan disappeared.

A knot formed in Evan's stomach as the three advanced upon him, their skills combining into a deadly dance of blood and steel. Lady Sariel summoned forth diamond swords and constructs, controlling them with a flick of her wrist, while the healer wielded blood like a weapon, forming ruby-like spikes and projectiles that glistened in the dim light. The guard darted back and forth, time dilated, movements blurred as he darted in to strike and then retreated, giggling madly with each successful blow.

“Come on. Come on! Fight me!"

His eyes blazed beneath the blood covering his face, Evans' blood, as his voice boomed across the room, filling every corner in a crescendo.

"You're outmatched, kid. Just give up."

The healer called after him. The expression on her face didn't match her words at all.

Evan tried to focus, tried to control his teleportation, but the attacks were too fast, too hard. He hurtled through the air, dodging and weaving, desperately trying to avoid the onslaught. Lady Sariel's diamond constructs slammed into him, sending him reeling, while the healer's blood blades sliced through the air like razors, leaving trails of crimson in their wake.

“You think you understand strength!" the guard said, his voice a boom of madness. "You really think you can beat me!? I am a god! I am the SWORD OF THE CITY! THE-"

"Enough, Kael," Lady Sariel said, cutting him off. "Let us finish this."

The guard continued to manipulate probability, his movements becoming more and more erratic as he grew increasingly high on luck. Evan saw an opening, a momentary gap in the trio's defences, and he teleported away, only to find himself hurtling through the air, uncontrolled, the guard having reacted instantly. Hurling his sword towards Evans' new destination, shattering his own hand in the process, he grinned madly in triumph as Evan careened in a direction he hadn't intended.

Panic set in as he realised his skill was useless in this fight. He tried to keep moving, to keep teleporting, but the attacks came too fast, too hard. Blood flowed freely, coating the room in a slick, crimson sheen. Diamond constructs shattered and reformed, their edges sharp as knives.

Evan's strength was waning, his energy draining away as the trio continued their relentless assault. The guard continued to manipulate probability, his movements almost too fast to see, while the healer stood back, watching with a cold detachment as she formed a new set of ruby-like blades.

Evan tried to hold on, tried to keep fighting, but it proved futile. He felt his body giving out, felt himself slipping away.

He would have to use his third skill, he had no choice.

He felt the same familiar feeling of power he’d known his whole life, coursing through his veins like an electric current. Spreading throughout his body, stemming from the dark scar on his chest, above his heart. The dark, almost metallic sheen of the scar spread across his chest as he connected with his skill. Evans' body twisted and contorted, his muscles shifting and bulging as they grew in size, now taught and bulging, stretched like steel. He launched forwards in an instant, the ground cracking beneath his enhanced feet, and planted his fist through Kael's armoured chest, blood covering his arm.

Kael stared down at the arm in his chest and cackled. Grabbing on to Evan. Slowing them both down.

Lady Sariel's diamond greatsword finished materialising in her hands, and she advanced upon him, eyes cold and calculating. She moved with a fluid grace, her eyes locked on Evan's.

Evan's arms became slick with blood and locked in place as he attempted to extricate them from the laughing dead man.

And then, suddenly, it was over. The three of them stood over his broken, lifeless body, a greatsword where his head should be. Triumphant and unyielding.

In the end, Evan's secret skill remained hidden, forever lost in the chaos of battle. Lady Sariel and her companions stood victorious, their skills combining into a deadly, unrelenting force. And as the echoes of battle died away, the only sound left was the soft drip of blood, staining the floor like a twisted, macabre canvas.

“A shame. Send his corpse for study.”

The room was silent, save for the sound of Lady Sariel's heels clicking against the stone floor as she turned to leave. Evan's body lay motionless on the ground.

***

Evan woke up on the training hall floor in a cold sweat, gasping for air as phantom pains throbbed, and the image of his violent death lingered in his mind. He wretched his stomach's contents on the floor. His hands trembling as he recounted what had just happened. Stumbling forwards and retching again, unable to hold back the nausea. His whole body shook with adrenaline. It took him a few moments to realize that he was safe, that it was over.

The feeling of his own violent death was still fresh in his mind. His hands were clammy. He couldn't shake the feeling that it had all been real, and the thought made him feel sick to his stomach. Looking around, he saw that he was still in the same spot in the training hall, the ceiling still intact, nothing had changed.

"What happened... Bad skill?" Lucia asked, with Marcus and Maximus walking towards him.

Soul of Blades - Interlude: Empire of War

The Martial Empire stretched into infinity, a vast expanse transcending physical boundaries and dimensions. It embodied an unchallenged authority, its dominion far beyond mortal comprehension.

For It stood as a formidable realm of cultivators, masters of the divine arts.

In a galactic auditorium of this supreme Empire, two outer disciples of a hidden cult surveyed a low grade world from their ethereal perch. Their eyes, mirroring the cosmos, reflected countless worlds under the system's yoke. Worlds that were trials, playfields, and sacrificial altars for those seeking the cults’ favour.

The outer disciples, Jun Li and Mo Ye, sat in a warm wooden room of the multidimensional martial Empire, overseeing a world they'd been assigned to monitor and control.

The glow of countless galaxies reflected in their eyes as they hovered before a shifting, iridescent screen.

"See there," Jun Li pointed at a blip on the screen, "an anomaly."

Mo Ye leaned closer, his gaze narrowing on the glowing spot. A system message blinked into existence: [ALERT: Anomaly detected – Soul Damage – Skill Acquisition – Incursion Dungeon].

"First hour of the tutorial and already in an incursion dungeon. Intriguing, isn't it?" Jun Li murmured, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

Mo Ye grunted noncommittally. Their task was clear: monitor and dominate the world, distribute mana and magic, keep an eye out for anomalies, all part of the grand scheme of the empire. Magic users, mortals, all perceived as little more than ants scurrying beneath the celestial boot of the empire.

"Should we intervene?" Jun Li asked, a hint of concern colouring his tone.

The question hung in the air between them like a dense fog. Failures or faults at gaining dominion in their assigned world might cost them their status. Or worse, it might stain their prospects of becoming inner disciples, the coveted position of power and backing of the sect, and the Empire.

Mo Ye scoffed, his eyes filled with a quiet arrogance. "We're cultivators now, Jun Li. We don't bother with such trivialities. It's the law of our Dao, or it will be. It'll die soon anyway."

Jun Li looked doubtful but nodded, convinced for the moment by Mo Ye's audacity. After all, what could a mere mortal achieve against the grandeur of their Cultivation?

As the two disciples went about their duties, the system messages continued to flow. [ALERT: Anomaly Survives – Progress Noted – Minor].

Mo Ye ignored it, concentrating on their impending Conquering test. An entire world at his fingertips, a playground to practice deadly sect techniques, a pool of resources for his cultivation, all tantalisingly close. He wouldn't let a single mortal stand in his way. The idea was laughable.

But Jun Li, he wasn't so dismissive. His gaze lingered on the anomaly. A seed of curiosity had been planted in his mind. He resolved to monitor the anomaly’s soul signal closely. But for now, he joined Mo Ye in preparing for the test. The world beneath them unaware, its destiny tied to the whims of two disciples from an unfathomable empire.

Just another day in the grand design of the Martial Empire.

To the high cultivators of the Empire, mana and magic were no more than crude tools. They held them with a contemptuous disregard, like cheap trinkets compared to the sublime power of Qi and the Dao.

An intricate plan designed to shackle those they deemed lesser.

Time-Smith - Chapter 7: Blood Diamond - Part 1

A sea of swords hung eerily still in the air as Lady Sariel fixed her gaze on Evan's eyes from across the room.

Evan found himself pinned to the wall, with her sword floating in the air and pressed against his throat. He could feel the cool touch of the diamond blade against his skin, and he knew he had lost.

She stood with a regal and unyielding posture, while her suspended weapons glinted menacingly in the light.

She had never once looked directly at him; instead, her gaze remained fixed on the world outside her window. It was as if she was fighting him without even trying, as if the battle was nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

Rumours about the Lady's obsession with diamonds, her choice to always fight with weapons made of variations of the mineral, had reached Evan. He’d assumed she had some affinity to the mineral that complemented her existing physical enhancement skill. What he had no idea about was her apparent dominion over the mineral, her second skill, a fact few knew. Creation bordered on the realm of Ancients and served as a prerequisite in some cases. Judging, however, by the lines on her face, the wilt in her step, and her greying hair, it was evident she remained mortal. She needed this city as much as it needed her. Her youth must be maintained through some illusion, Evan speculated between ragged jolts of pain. From everything he’d seen, it seemed he wasn't the only one keeping secrets.

"So, child," Lady Sariel said, her voice laced with a hint of amusement. "Who are you?"

Evan looked up at Lady Sariel, her sharp gaze boring into him, with his breaths shallow. His mind whirred at possible answers to the question, despite the pain coursing through his body. He knew that he had to stay calm if he wanted to make it out of here alive. Should he just tell the truth?

Evan tried to ignore the sharp sting of the blade against his skin as he replied, "I’m nobody. I got turned around and ended up here by mistake."

Lady Sariel narrowed her eyes, a hint of patient scepticism in her voice as she said, "In my office? That seems rather unlikely, don't you think?"

Exhausted, bleeding, and in pain, Evan had fought what basically amounted to her little finger. Irked, he couldn't help but quip back, "Well, they say it's always the last place you look."

The diamond swords twisted at her command, causing him to grit his teeth in pain. Lady Sariel was not amused. "I suggest you take this seriously," she said icily.

Evan nodded, his bravado faltering slightly. He knew the stakes were high; his chances of making it out alive were slim. But he couldn't let her see that. "I'm Evan," he said. "I'm here because I got lost."

Lady Sariel raised an eyebrow. "Lost?" she repeated incredulously.

"I... I don't know," Evan said. "I was practising my skills, and then I found myself here."

"Your skills?" Lady Sariel repeated. "What skills do you possess?"

Evan hesitated for a moment. He had to be careful with what he said next. "[Teleportation], as you’ve seen," he said. "And I have [Minor Postcognition]."

Lady Sariel's eyes remained narrowed. "[Minor Postcognition]," she repeated. "That's an interesting, if mundane ability. As is [Teleportation]. Although I have never seen someone teleport themselves multiple times in quick succession. A feat of physical endurance that even the greatest holders of the skill would struggle to accomplish." She let the words linger in the air.

Evan shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "It's a useful skill."

Lady Sariel's lips curled into a small smile. "useful, you say?” This time she turned slowly, bodily, turning to face him head on. The blades in the air turned with her, a spiderweb of light shimmering across the room.

Evan shrugged again, trying to hide his growing unease, wincing at the pain the shrug sent arcing through his body. "I suppose I just have a natural talent for it." There was something strange about these blades, and the way they expanded against his skin. He wasn't bleeding.

Lady Sariel regarded him for a moment, her eyes glinting with something that Evan couldn't quite place.

She remained silent, her floating sword still pressed against his throat. Finally, she spoke, her voice laced with a hint of curiosity, "You have mundane skills. But what I find even more intriguing is how you managed to enter this room without anyone noticing, and how you seem to have inhuman endurance. I have never seen someone use that skill in such a way." Her power and magic radiating off her in waves now that all attempts at pretence had been discarded, bouncing from weapon to weapon. How had she hid her mana?

The floating sword pressed harder against his throat, a reminder of the danger he was in.

"Care to explain, child?"

Evan clenched his fists, trying to ignore the pain that wracked his body. He had no intention of giving her the satisfaction of seeing him break. "I'm just trying to figure out why I'm here," he said, his voice strained. "And who you are."

Lady Sariel regarded him sceptically, her piercing eyes seemed to see through him. She decided to play along. Someone had clearly sent the poor thing to its death, forcing the child to come here. She just had to find out which council member did it. And rip their home from the earth.

Lady Sariel arched an eyebrow, her lips curling into a sly smile. "Oh, I think you know who I am," she said. "And as for why you're here, I'm curious about your...unique set of skills."

Evan's heart skipped a beat, and he tried to suppress a groan as the diamond constructs tightened their grip. "I'm just a guy," he said, his voice low. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Lady Sariel laughed, a high-pitched sound that echoed through the room.

Evan knew he had to tread carefully. He decided to go for a half-truth. "I was practicing my skills when I found myself here. As for how I got in here, I wish I knew. I have no idea. One moment I was training my skills, the next I was here. I don't know how it happened. But since I was here, I figured I could make myself useful and came to see you."

"Useful how?"

Lady Sariel studied him for a moment, then walked over to her desk near the fireplace, overlooking the vast city. The sword in her hand seemed to collapse in on itself in quick, rigid movements, ceasing to exist. Evan watched her warily, wondering what her next move would be.

“My endurance extends to all of my skills. I know where an artifact of the Old Gods, the all-knowing Twins, lies.”

He didn't.

“I can lead you or your staff through a safe route to the item.”

He couldn't.

“My skill allows me to find safe routes into these sites. Any site I find, I would happily present you the artifacts, if it means I keep my life and freedom.”

He most definitely wouldn't.

Lady Sariel's lips curled into a smile that didn't reach her eyes, as she turned her head to view the city. "You're quite confident for someone in your position." He felt like he was being toyed with by a cat, like some bird caught before it could soar. He decided he did not like this woman.

"I think I may have a use for you," she finally said, turning to face him once more. There were many ruins she knew of, most of them uncharted, most of them even she wouldn't dare go into, no one ever returns. She would create a small diamond on him and then have one of her spies track his movements in the city, tearing the roots of her conspirators out at the source.

“We are aware of these historical sites, they are often avoided.”

Evan weighed his options, knowing he was in a dangerous position. Lady Sariel was too powerful, and he had no way of delivering on what he’d promised. He knew that if he refused her offer, he would likely end up in a dungeon or worse. But if he accepted, he would be risking his life on a mission he knew nothing about. At least he'd find out the location of godly treasures, maybe he could escape?

"I'll have to think about it," he finally said, trying to buy himself some time.

Lady Sariel's expression grew cold, "You are in no position to decline anything, child. You are at my mercy." To her, this child seemed particularly dense, despite his apparent talent with skills, however mundane. Surely he could see how kind she was, allowing him to walk away from this. Hundreds of years gaining power, and she still had trouble killing a child. She laughed internally at her own folly. That was a line she had crossed before, over the centuries, but it was one she avoided. She would rather get someone else to do it. And if he could find her treasure after ousting her enemies, it would be two birds with one stone. She would never say no to more power and would discard him the moment he exhausted his usefulness. Maybe even find out the secret to his inhuman stamina. If it proved useful after more study, she might incorporate it into her own physical skill. It would be wasted on him otherwise.

"Very well, child," she said, her voice low and measured. She turned towards the view, regarding the city below, and spoke. "You have my attention. But be warned, if I find out that you're wasting my time, the consequences will be...severe."

Evan slumped to the ground, gasping for air, as Lady Sariel’s weapons collapsed into his wounds, still preventing him from bleeding to death.

Lady Sariel's questions continued, but he only half-listened, his mind focused on finding a way out. and plans on how to escape her attention once he left the room. She had presented him with a map of known ruins, historical sites, and magical anomalies, asking him where his vaunted artifact was. He picked one at random, frantically attempting to memorise the designs on the pristine parchment.

The door opened, and two figures stepped into the room.

The first was a woman of slighter build than Evan, though toned ripcord muscles could be seen between her robe. The robe was silk, embroidered with intricate patterns and the house crest.

Beside her was the guard, a towering figure of muscle and steel. He wore a suit of armour that glinted in the light, and a sword strapped to his side. He moved with a grace that seemed at odds with his large form. His face was stern and unyielding, his skin was weathered and scarred from years of battle, and his presence seemed to fill the room. Evan recognised him as one of Lady Sariel's personal bodyguards, always by her side in public. Why she needed one he couldn't know, surely he wasn't stronger than her. Maybe he was a meat-shield? He found the idea hilarious. Now that he was out of danger, he could allow himself to enjoy the experience of being here.

As they entered, Lady Sariel rose to greet them, her eyes brightening at the sight of her most trusted retainers. The healer approached her, her hands held out in front of her, and Lady Sariel took them, smiling warmly.

"You look well, my lady," the healer said, her voice like music.

"And you, Ari," Lady Sariel replied. "I trust you have been taking good care of yourself."

The guard stood at the edge of the room, as his gaze moved constantly, as if searching for threats. He seemed ready to spring into action at a moment's notice, his hand never straying far from the hilt of his sword. Lady Sariel turned to him, a smile on her lips.

"And you, Kael," she said. "Has anything happened while I've been away?"

"Nothing to report, my lady," Kael replied, his voice low and steady. He glanced at Evans' prone form, took in his modest clothing, the lines of pain etched on his face, and the bruises that marred his skin. An unspoken question hung in the air.

Lady Sariel nodded, her eyes still on the guard. He was a formidable figure, and she had found him to be one of her better recruits over the years. She turned back to Ari, taking her hand.

"Thank you for coming," she said. "I need your skills."

Ari gave a nod as her face tightened, her expression locked in seriousness. Her hand rose, a pool of blood gathering before her open palm, transforming into a glistening, vicious, ruby-like spike. "Which skill?" Her gaze snapped to Evan. "He hurt you?"

"Just heal him," Lady Sariel responded, her smile empty of any true joy.

As Ari advanced, the menacing spike of her palm shifted into a soothing light that sealed Evan's injuries. Lady Sariel paused, seemingly struck by a new thought.

"Oh, he seems to have unusual stamina. Do investigate while you heal him. Can you find anything in his blood?"

Frustration boiled over in Evan. "What could you possibly do with my mundane skills?" Ari appeared to be in agreement. "It's not like you need them, surely you already have an eternity's worth."

Their faces turned rigid with shock as all movement ceased. Lady Sariel's expression crystallized into something icily dangerous as she fixed a predatory gaze at Evan.

Evan's gut churned, realizing too late that he had unearthed a secret not meant for him—or anyone—to know. Lady Sariel's voice sliced through the silence, cold as a winter night.

"What did you just say?"

The sound steel resonated through the room as Kael's hand gripped the hilt of his sword, Ari's blood-spike poised midair above her palm—both unnervingly aimed at Evan.

Soul of Blades - Chapter 7: Blood, Sweat, & Beasts

His body, his weapon, his will - all seemed to blend with the jungle as he ventured further in, towards the enemy. His heart steady and composed, its beat a growing rhythm of survival within him, filled with determination and purpose.

He squared his shoulders, his grip tightening on the crude weapon. There was no turning back, no escape from this new world. It was survival or defeat. His choice was made. He would survive.

***

Alex stood alone, draped in shadows. His body moved fluidly, the scent of the jungle clinging to his skin. He clutched his makeshift sword, his senses razor-sharp, ready to face the wolfmen.

He moved with a rhythm that was primal and wild, yet filled with stealth, reflecting the aura of the alien jungle around him.

Then, the wolfmen came into view.

These beings, towering and muscular, looked like the unholy offspring of a werewolf and an action movie star. Their bodies and fur glistened with sweat, leather and metal armour clinging to their frames. They prowled about, their guttural voices pounding through the air.

They were searching for something.

Alex breathed in sharply, tasting the tension in the air. He stepped forward, his fingers tightening around his sword. A volley of system notifications blinked in his periphery, a reminder of the quests that brought him to this point. The system message pulsed, the text burning bright:

[Quest Screen: Infinite prospects: Reach level 25...]
[Wild Warrior: Defeat a floor Guardian...]
[The Champion: Defeat all floor Guardians...]
[Floor Destroyer: Destroy or Conquer the wolf tribe...]

Alex shook his head, casting away the distractions. He couldn't afford any now.

Stealthily, he approached the wolfmen. The growing sound of his beating heart filled his ears, drowned out only by the rustle of the underbrush beneath his feet. He breathed deep to ease the flow of his pulse. He narrowed his eyes on the one to his right, calculating, waiting. Then, he lunged.

In a sudden blur of motion, Alex crashed into the wolfman, shoulder checking him into the patch of deadly red grass. The reaction was immediate.

Carnivorous maw and vines erupted from the ground, a monstrous plant hungry for its meal. The wolfman instinctively sprang into the air, but the plant was faster. Its thick vines snaked up, ensnaring the creature in its grip.

The second wolfman turned, his eyes blazing. His gaze fell on Alex, his lips pulled back to reveal glistening fangs. It leapt.

With surprising agility, the wolfman was a blur, attacking Alex from all sides, bouncing off the thin air as if it was a solid wall. The world became a chaotic mess of flying claws and gnashing teeth.

Alex fought back, his sword finding the gaps in the wolfman's armour, striking with all the strength his boosted stats afforded him. Each hit was met with a pained growl, the creature's movements becoming increasingly frantic.

In the chaotic melee, Alex saw an opening. The creature had left its throat unprotected as it lunged to bite. It was gruesome, but he saw no other way.

In a swift, single stroke, he brought his sword down on its throat. The wolfman choked, staggering. It was not down, not yet. With a determined grimace, Alex drove his make-shift blade into its eye. The creature let out a final howl before collapsing.

As the choked growls of the first wolfman fell to silence, the gruesome sight of its eye, impaled on Alex's makeshift sword, served as a harsh reminder of the precarious nature of life in this realm. One wrong move, or a moment of carelessness could result in Alex being the one impaled, and dead.

A shudder surged through him as he yanked the weapon free. A sharp whistling filled the air as the makeshift sword, a crude tool of survival, pulled free from the eye socket of the first wolfman. The guttural growls that had dominated the jungle were abruptly silenced. Alex studied the weapon, the bloody tribute smeared on its tip. The weight of his first kill in Pyra sank in, but not in a burst of triumphant pride. Instead, it seeped into him slowly, an uncomfortable chill that slowly settled on him, like a weight permanently nestled on his shoulders.

His chest rose and fell in a staccato rhythm, the exertion stirring droplets of perspiration to wend their way down his brow. His grip on the sword slackened for a moment, its point resting on the leaf-littered ground, the dark fluid seeping into the foreign earth. But there was no time to dwell on the macabre details.

A flicker of movement drew his gaze.

The second wolfman, was a tempest of primal force. It twisted in mid-air, cleaving through the carnivorous plant's vines with an uncanny grace. This one was in a league of its own, brawling with the carnivorous plant as if it were born for it. Fur bristled on its powerful muscles, moving like a wave. Its roars played a raw, primal sound that sounded through the thick jungle.

The plant was losing, a rain of its green and maroon blood splattering on the jungle floor.

Alex gripped his makeshift sword tighter. This would be his only chance, it was now or never.

He ran, bent his knees, coiled his muscles, and sprung into the air. The earth exploded beneath him in a cloud of dirt and debris. In a heartbeat, he was soaring, the chaos below replaced with the peaceful quiet of the dungeon sky.

The wind tousled his hair, a soft whisper of peace in his leap above the battlefield. It was a short-lived respite, shattered as he plunged back into the battle.

Down he went, back into the fray, like a homing missile. Every ounce of his strength prepared to pour into the blow as he descended from the sky like a rocket. The wolfman, busy with its dance of death, had no clue what was coming.

His sword hit the beast's air-borne side. The wolfman lurched unbalanced and caught off guard, but it didn't seem fazed. Frowning, Alex used his momentum, spinning in the air for another hit.

The blade met furry hide again.

And once more.

The third hit landed behind its leg, A resounding impact that shook Alex's bones. The blow caught it off balance, and brought the beast falling to the ground, it landed on its knees. The magnificent, deadly whirlwind was reduced to a stunned animal. A multitude of vines creeped forward, stealthily slithering across the jungle floor toward the wolfman’s legs as Alex braced to attempt another attack. The beast merely winced in annoyance, and turned to face Alex, still unfazed by his sword swings. The wolfman's eyes were locked with his as it began to slowly rise, growling in deep unfiltered fury. It’s claws started to glow red.

The beast retaliated.

Oblivious to the creeping danger, the wolf swung its free arm and threw a backhand that caught Alex completely by surprise. Alex twisted at the last minute to evade the blow, but it still caught him on the shoulder and sent him tumbling to the ground.

The scabbed wound on his shoulder burst open in a spray of flesh, shredded once more. Blood began to fall, a waterfall creating a shallow pool around him.

It was then that Alex began to worry; this one seemed strong. Too strong.

Alex rose as he pressed in to the wound, wincing at the pain caused by the attempts to stop the bleeding. With his enhanced strength, he tore at his shirt at tied a strip of cloth to his shoulder with quick movements, his eyes watching the wolfman warily as he rose to his feet. He was surprised by the what he saw.

In the moment directly after the blow, as the beast was distracted and exposed, the carnivorous plant lunged. Vines that lay hidden had surrounded the wolf from all sides had sprung upwards, snapping on as much of the beasts form as it could. Curved thorns as long as fingers dug and hooked into its furred flesh, attempting to seal its fate. The wolfman howled in fury as it attempted to escape, and almost did, until Alex ran forward and struck it in the chest with all the force he could muster, before leaping back to safety.

The constricted wolf had no way to defend itself, clawing at the vines surrounding its neck and limbs. At Alex’s blow, it fell deeper into the plant, and closer to its maw.

The plant monster greedily continued in its catch, a writhing pool of deep red and green death.

Vines continued to shoot forward en masse, like hundreds of angry snakes, ensnaring the wolfman and yanking it into a suffocating embrace. The last sounds of the wolfman's cry resonated through the dense jungle, marking the passing of another life.

Then, everything was quiet.

As the sounds faded away, a sense of stillness spread throughout the jungle. Alex found his knees meeting the soft, damp earth, his body heavy with exhaustion and an unfamiliar burden. He was alive. He had fought, killed, and still drew breath. A wave of triumph coursed through him, carrying the heavy taste of reality.

His old life was gone. His new life in Pyra was a constant battle for survival.

He drew in ragged breaths as he knelt on the ground, breathless and drained, and tasted the raw flavour of survival. The smell of spilled blood, wet fur, and crushed plants filled the air - the signature dungeon cocktail of life and death.

As the aftershocks of the battle subsided, an old lesson from his grandfather floated up in his memory, "Every battle is a path to understanding oneself." Now, on an alien battlefield, the weight of those words rang truer than ever. He let out a humourless chuckle. The dungeon was a harsh teacher, but it was definitely making sure he got the lesson.

[You have defeated level 4 Apex Canid - additional experience points due to the level difference]

[You have defeated level 30 Apex Canid - Inventory Items available - additional experience points due to the level difference]

[Level 3 > Level 6]

[15 unassigned stats - Speak or think ‘Status’ to allocate pending stats]

As the system notification rang in his minds eye, Alex once again felt the thrill of survival. He'd battled the beasts and emerged victorious. He'd cheated death, again. The battle had been swift and brutal. Victory was his, but the weight of it felt far heavier than he'd anticipated. He glanced at the notification again.

Level 30. Apex Canid. Thirty.

A cold chill of realisation swept through him.

The creature was powerful, an apex predator that made him look weak in comparison. Its massive form had barely budged beneath his attacks, unlike the others he had faced. It made him wonder about stats. Did beasts have stats? They must have. And if they did, how were they allocated? The difference in resilience suggested varying amounts of endurance, or strength, or dexterity, maybe even intelligence and wisdom too. That could explained why striking some of the first wolves felt like hitting hot steel, and others gave about as much resistance as plywood.

The level 30 wolfman  must’ve put all of its stats into ‘Endurance’, that’s the only explanation Alex could think of. It’d explain why he was even able to budge it. He had the stats of someone at level 20, but that was still a 10 level difference, that was huge. It had been impossibly resilient, and treated his attacks like a fly’s buzzing, but he had still been eventually able to knock it off balance with the help of the plant's vines.

Barely. Without the plant, it would’ve killed him.

The others...they had felt the sharp edge of his blows, had buckled under his strength. Not this one. This one had stood its ground, teeth bared, as if mocking him.

It hit him then, a realisation as cold as the night air around him. Technique was his friend. Technique and stealth. His only friends. He had to go back to the basics of the sword, if he was going to destroy this floor.

He checked his wound and tore some more of his shirt to secure the tournique, the bleeding had stemmed but hadn’t stopped completely, and the wound had deepened. He would need to avoid strenuous movements to let the blood coagulate faster, but there was just too much of it. Not enough to kill him, but he suspected if he was back on earth he would have already begun to feel woozy. How was he still moving? Was it an effect of his stats?  Frowning, Alex peered at the system message, looking for answers. Another notification stood out to him. He had 15 free stats from his new levels.

That fight had opened his eyes to the danger out there, leaving him facing a choice of whether to allocate all of his stats now, or save them for when he encountered another beast that was beyond him; something he couldn’t beat.

Keeping some free stats in reserve might be useful. He thought, as his eyes scanned the details on floating panel before him. What if I meet something stronger, or faster, more deadly, or even tougher? Again? Having a reserve of stats to dump could tip the scales. Being able to dump stats into strength, dexterity, intelligence, or endurance could be the difference between life and death. Let’s keep 10 in reserve, and use 5, he decided. 2 into strength, 1 into endurance, and 2 into dexterity, let’s make sure my movements can keep up with my thoughts. He urged his status to change and willed the confirmation with a mental nudge, causing a warm surge engulfed him. It spread to his fingertips like fireworks as he observed his new status.

[Strength: 38 (27)

Dexterity: 29 (21)

Endurance: 32 (23)

Intelligence: 38 (27)

Wisdom: 25 (18)

Unassigned stat points: 0]

[…]

[Do you wish to access defeated level 30 Apex Canid’s Inventory items? Refusal will result in system confiscation]

He hardly dared to breathe as the new words seeped into his awareness. A single thought propelled him forward. Confirm. As if in response to his silent command, the message faded.

His breath still ragged, he watched as a section of the world warped and twisted before his eyes. The system notification chimed, but he paid it little heed. His gaze was fixed on the items materialising before him.

What looked like a bronze sword, and a few other items appeared, hovering in the air in a soft flash of fading light.

The sword fell out of the air and clattered to the ground, along with the rest of the items. The swords hilt rested on the lush green foliage, in safety. But its blade rested on red grass, the carnivore’s territory.

Alex stood there, staring at the sword in hesitation.

Should he risk being captured by the vines? If he disturbed the red patch, he’d be a goner. And that new sword… Did he really need it? Just now, his makeshift sword-the skull and horn that’d cleaved stone- had only managed to leave shallow cuts, wounds that split the high level wolfman’s flesh open but didn’t do any real damage besides that.

Surely a being whose skin was tougher than stone would have a sword that could match it? What if he met another level 30 wolfman? Even an assassination attempt would fail if his blade couldn’t end it in one blow.

I guess I need that sword. He sighed in resignation. He would have to risk it, safely.

Alex scooted back, and squated, ready to jump back at a moment's notice. His muscles were coiled tight like a spring, on the edge of exploding away at even the slightest shift of red earth. Gently, gingerly he edged forward, and pulled slowly, bracing himself for the plants eruption.

But the red and blood soaked earth remained still.

Maybe it’s full? I just saw it eat about 6 horse sized wolves, so it can’t be that. He spotted some flesh from the first wolfman he’d defeated, laying on the grass. With some disgust and unease, he stabbed into it and raised his sword high above the red patch. "Here you go, boy. Eat up," he said, positioning the macabre meal to fall and land on the plant’s territory.

The ground rumbled, and tendrils sprouted, weaving in the air before plunging into the meat.

Huh. I guess it likes me. Alex thought, while the flesh disintegrated until all that remained was a peaceful, red patch of grass.

"Bon appétit," he muttered with slight disgust and… was that admiration he was feeling? The plant had saved his life, after all. Twice. He guessed it made sense to hold some positive feelings towards it. It wasn’t all that bad once you got past the deadly maw.

Satisfied, he then turned to regard the rest of the wolfman's items.

He already held the crude bronze sword. But laying there on the soft grass was a leather flask. And three crystals, glowing with energy.

Magic. The promise of power.

Holy- He picked up one in each hand, thoughts interrupted, and hesitation long gone. His fingers tingling at the contact. He could feel it. The thrum of energy. A buzz in the air, as if ionised.The whisper of reality bending power.

[F-grade skill crystal x2 acquired. Consume?]

Without hesitation, he willed his agreement. "Yes," he thought, a thrill running through him. The crystal pulsed once, twice, and then –

Everything went black.

Time-Smith - Chapter 6: Diamonds & Gold

Evan was lost, adrift in a sea of memories, feeling as though a whirlpool had caught him, spinning him faster and faster. The world around him moved like a time-lapse, a blur of colours and shapes that coalesced and dissolved before his very eyes. It was like watching a painting come to life, each brushstroke a moment in time that flickered and danced before him, until he was lost in a maelstrom of time. A dull, throbbing ache in his head grew louder and more insistent with every passing second, until it reached a crescendo that threatened to engulf him entirely.

And then he was back, in the room high up in the grand palace, with Lady Sariel standing across from him, a look of cold calculation on her face.

“What the f-” Evan’s voice trailed off, the words dying in his throat as he struggled to comprehend what had just happened. He immediately tried to teleport out of there and realised he couldn't feel his skills at all; it was as if they had disappeared.

Why can't I activate any of my skills? he wondered, concerned creeping into his thoughts. This didn’t feel like the vision, or even the time travel he had experienced before, he wasn’t disembodied, he was really here. Did his [Teleportation] go haywire and launch him into one of the most dangerous rooms in the city? Evan gulped at the thought. He had to figure out a way to get out of this alive.

Lady Sariel stood before Evan, her tall and slender figure emanating a regal air.

Evan's eyes darted around the room, taking in every detail.

The walls were adorned with precious stones and intricate designs that seemed to dance in the flickering light of the candles, paintings and trophies placed on either side. The room exuded warmth and grandeur, leather couches and ornate rugs, sprawled by the fireplace opposite her desk, facing the floor to ceiling windows displaying the sprawling view of the city. The flame from the fireplace caused the air itself to seem to shimmer with an ethereal light that caught the edges of Evan's vision.

It was the kind of place that Evan would have been amazed by just a few moments ago, but now it was just another extravagant display of wealth in the way of his escape.

His heart pounded, yet he remained calm. He believed he could handle any situation, even this one.

“Lady Sariel, I can explain” he raised his hands in an attempt to calm her down. If he played this right, she just might let him go. Despite what he’d seen, she was known to be kind to the dregs, charming and personable. As far as she knew, he had nothing she wanted… Except the ability to enter one of the most guarded rooms in the city undetected. Right.

She ignored him, turning to observe the fireplace, a soft smile on her face.

"Excuse me, Lady Sariel," he said, his voice ringing out in the room. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude," he said, trying to keep his voice calm and steady. "I was just looking for someone to talk to, and I thought maybe you could help me out."

To his surprise, she didn’t even twitch. Evan cleared his throat and tried again. "I said, I was just looking for someone to talk to, and I thought-," he trailed off as he noticed her lack of reaction.

Rude. He decided to get her attention.

"Well, this is a lovely office you have here, Lady Sariel. I don't think I've seen so many shiny objects in one place before."

No response.

"What the hell?" he exclaimed, waving his arms in front of him.

Still, no response. Lady Sariel remained oblivious to his presence.

"Okay, maybe she's just ignoring me," he muttered to himself. "That's fine, I can work with that."

Feeling weightless and disembodied, Evan floated towards her, and realised she seemed lost in her own thoughts, a world away from him. Despite being mere inches from her face. His feeling of disembodiment must be more than just a feeling, he was invisible. Safe. As he drew closer, he studied her appearance with curiosity.

With long, flowing red hair and piercing green eyes. Her skin was as smooth as alabaster, flawless from this distance, and her features were perfectly sculpted. She wore a long, flowing gown of a deep dark red that hugged her curves, adorned with glittering jewels that sparkled in the candlelight. And as she turned to face the city, Evan saw a hint of something darker in her eyes that sent shivers down his spine.

The darkness in her eyes grew stronger, overshadowing her beauty. There was something different about her appearance. he wrinkles on her face seemed more pronounced, and a weariness in her eyes that he hadn't seen before appeared. Her hair was still long and auburn, but there were strands of grey woven through it. giving the impression that she had aged decades in just a few short weeks since he'd seen her on one of the artificers screens in the plaza. Nevertheless, she still retained an undeniable beauty.

Drawing back, he aimed to explore the room, his feet touching the ground.

It was then that he noticed a faint flicker in her eyes. Had she sensed his presence? Or was it just a trick of the light? Evan couldn't be sure, but she continued to stare out into the city below, unmoving.

Evan wandered through Lady Sariel's office, with its walls adorned with intricate tapestries and ornate decor. He knew he shouldn't be here, but his curiosity had gotten the better of him. His eyes wandered over the priceless artifacts that littered the room, adorned on the walls. Stealing from her would be stupid. Practically suicide. Completely insane.

Maybe next time.

The room was bathed in a soft golden light that reflected off the diamond constructs and works of art Lady Sariel had interspersed among the artifacts. Evan had never seen such exquisite craftsmanship before, and he couldn't help but admire it all.

Suddenly, a sharp pain exploded in his back. He was thrown forward, hitting the ground hard. His form flickering. Lady Sariel stood still, staring out of the window as if nothing had happened. Evan scrambled to his feet, bewildered by what had just occurred.

One of the artifacts was hovering in place, facing him. A dagger. He glanced at Lady Sariel - she remained staring out at the city skyline, as if deep in thought.

The diamond dagger hummed before hurtling at him again. Evan dived out of the way, desperately looking for something he could use as a shield as it sunk into the far wall.

His connection to his skills bloomed to life as he leapt onto the floor. The mana pumped through his veins in three different beats, his skin tingling with a sensation he’d had for so long he hadn't even known it was there. He could feel the ebb and flow of mana in the room once more. He searched the room, as the dagger shook the wall in its attempts to free itself and attack him again, and noticed how the currents flowed around some of the items in the room. Evan couldn't help but marvel at the sheer variety of items on display. There were weapons that seemed to pulse with energy, diamond constructs that glimmered like stars, and ancient artifacts that felt older than time itself. Each object had its own unique aura, its own story to tell. Some felt weak and unremarkable, like a flickering candle in a vast darkness. Others, however, were like standing next to a sun, their energy almost overwhelming.

Three of those sun-like weapons rose into the air to face him, their diamond surfaces flickering with the flames of the fireplace. Evan immediately teleported towards the door.

The constructs were too quick. The swords launched at him. As Evan flew through the air, having gained momentum in the void between spaces, he reached forward, fingers outstretched to grasp the door. He could feel the hum of the blades gaining on him, hear the air practically screaming as their sharp edges cut through the space between them. Evan was forced to dodge out of the way, his form flickering again. Glancing at the door again, he saw a wall of diamond had descended from the ceiling. Blocking his escape.

He had never tried teleporting through an object before and had no idea what would happen. He had smashed through buildings to get here the first time, with no idea how he was unhurt. He didn't want to risk it, the gash on his back had removed any illusion of safety he had. He would have to find another-

A blade crashed into the ground beside him.

He teleported across the room in a mess of movement, trying to put some distance between himself and his attacker, but the artifacts in the room were relentless. More swords, more weapons, and more constructs rose into the air, all of them flashing and glittering in the dim light of the office's smouldering fireplace.

The constructs seemed to be everywhere, and their blades sliced through the air, leaving a trail of diamond sparks. They moved with precision and lethality, closing in on him from all directions.

Evan's heart was pounding in his chest as he surveyed the room. With a steady hand and his very being on edge, his eyes darted from one artifact to the next, desperately searching for a way out. The seconds between each breath felt like minutes. He could feel the energy of his skill coursing through his veins, like a river of fire, constantly shifting, a tug in his gut, waiting for him to release control and be moved.

He gave in to the sensation.

He felt the same familiar pull in his gut, but this time, it came from every direction, almost before he even had the thought he disappeared, giving in to the pull from above. Evan reappeared several meters above his previous position, hurtling towards the high ceiling. He surveyed the room in mid-air, a sea of blades glistening as they sped towards him, their reflective light almost leaving afterimages.

He decided to crash through the window and escape, and rely on his skills ability to control his momentum. As long as he arrested his momentum before he hit the ground, he'd be safe. There was no way these artifacts would follow him that far away from their owner. His stomach churned at the suspicion they probably could. He didn't care, he'd figure it out. He launched himself at the window, disappearing and reappearing ahead, at high speed.

He scrambled across the room, dodging diamond constructs and leaping over glittering blades. He could feel the mana surging through his veins, aiding in his sensations. He needed to stay alive. His movements became a blur of motion, a dance of life and death in the midst of a battlefield.

Tripping over an artifact, another narrowly missed his heart. Evan tumbled to the ground, rolling to a stop, as the sound of the wind whistling grew louder. The shadows on the wall displayed blurs of motion speeding towards him.

He gritted his teeth and leaped, twisting in mid-air to avoid a razor-sharp blade that sliced through the air where he had been a moment before. The blade embedded itself in the wall with a metallic clang as he teleported in the opposite direction to his leap, completely reversing his momentum.

He could hear the sound of the diamond constructs clashing behind him, echoing through the grand office. See the shadows of sparks as they clashed, dancing across the walls, illuminated by the fireplace. He had reappeared upside down this time, spinning, the world a blur. But that was OK. At least he was heading towards the window.

Blades rose from the artifacts on the floor ahead to meet him. Evan cursed under his breath, his mind racing as he searched for another way out. He teleported backwards, arresting his momentum, and hung in the air in free-fall as the blades rose to meet him further away. He needed to think.

He closed his eyes. Trying to sense the flow of mana in the air as the blades parted through them. He could feel them more clearly, but it was no use. Some of them were so faint he would have to see them to know where they were. Evan tapped into his skill, fire pouring down his veins once more. He held it there, keeping it flowing, constantly drawing as small an amount as he could manage from the dense maelstrom of mana shifting through his body as sweat trickled down his brow in concentration. He felt stretched in all directions, loose, as though underwater. It was as if any sudden movement would send him hurtling in that direction, disappearing through space at a moment's notice. The mana in the air surged, he could feel more of it now.

Evan felt a sharp pain in his side, and realised that one of the constructs had scored a hit. He gritted his teeth and twisted in mid-air, using his momentum to dodge another incoming blade. He teleported from the centre of the room towards the wall, reappearing sideways in a run. Each step supported his momentum along the wall as he once again headed for the window.

The room was a blur of motion and colour, a kaleidoscope of diamond constructs and shimmering artifacts. Evan could feel the mana surging through the room, like a storm gathering on the horizon. He dodged and weaved, ducking under a spinning construct and twisting around a glowing sphere of energy.

Evan hit the ground running, sliding across the polished stone floor like a skater on ice. He could feel the mana coursing through his veins, enhancing his senses. He bounded up a wall, his feet pushing off against the diamond surface of the dagger lodged in there, and flipped over a pair of spinning blades that sliced through the air like scythes, a teleport towards the ceiling sending him away from the blades, aiding his movements.

He slid across the ceiling, launched by his last teleport, a wicked greatsword made of diamond thrown off course by the displaced air he left in his wake. It flew by his head, missing by inches. As it whizzed past Evans head, he caught a glimpse of the intricate patterns etched into the diamond surface, each one sparkling like tiny gemstones. The flames of the fireplace reflected within.

The glass window was so close now, he could almost taste it. He had angled his legs, preparing to shatter through.

The world around seemed to dim as the greatsword passed by. Evan barely had time to register the flash of light before the sword hurtled past his head. It was a thing of beauty, a diamond-encrusted greatsword that seemed to glow as it reflected the light from its many angles. He noticed its edge was impossibly sharp, slicing through the air, whistle of the wind, sharp and piercing, as its aftershock threw his hair aside. The blade was a glinting blur of light, barely slowing down as it sliced through walls, flooring, and even other constructs. Leaving a deep gash across the tapestry. The blade was wickedly sharp. It immediately halted in the air in front of him.

Evan crashed into its flat side, falling through the air. Before he could even make sense of his surroundings, he found himself suddenly suspended in mid-air, like a fly caught in a spider's web. Blades, sharp as razors, whirled towards him from every direction, seeking out his flesh with ruthless accuracy. Evan had no time to react, no way to avoid the blades. Several of them sliced into his limbs like a hot knife through butter, pinning him to the wall like a gruesome work of art, the rest strangely missing him. The pain was indescribable, and he couldn't help himself as a cry escaped his lips. Evan hung there, beaten, but not defeated.

"Who are you, and what are you doing here?" Lady Sariel asked, finally turning to face him, the sea of blades turning with her, a diamond sword materialising in her hand.

Time-Smith - Interlude: Extraction wars

Extraction wars

The Extraction Wars were a dark time in the world's history. The most powerful skill holders and creatures in the world banded together with a singular purpose: to kill the gods and steal their skills, their power. The war lasted for a decade and left destruction in its wake. The gods fought fiercely, but they were outnumbered and outmatched. The skill holders and creatures, driven by their insatiable thirst for power, were relentless in their pursuit.

It began with the theft of the gods' [Immortality]. The skill holders had discovered a way to extract the [Immortality] skill from the gods, enabling them to transfer it to themselves. They saw it as a means of obtaining true godhood, but it proved to be their undoing. The gods, sensing the danger, retaliated with all their might. The creatures of the world, seeing the opportunity for power, joined the fray.

Despite their strength, it was proven that the gods were not invincible. One by one, they fell to the combined might of their enemies. With each victory, the skill holders grew stronger, their powers augmented by those of the fallen gods.

As the war raged on, old alliances were reforged and new allies became enemies. Each sought to become the most powerful. Betrayals and backstabbing became commonplace, and the alliances dissolved into nothing.

In the end, the war didn't end with the extraction of the gods' powers, but with their deaths. The most powerful skill holders and creatures had succeeded only in killing the very beings they sought to emulate. The world was left in ruins, scarred by the brutal conflict.

The Extraction Wars raged across the world, leaving entire cities in ruins. The gods fought with all their power, but their numbers dwindled as the skill holders and creatures grew in strength. The war was brutal and merciless, with no end in sight.

But the legacy of the gods remained. The ruins of their once-great temples and cities stood as a testament to their power, and many sought to unlock the secrets of their lost magic. The skill holders and creatures fought over these relics, hoping to gain even greater power.

Millenia past, the world was left in ruins, and the few survivors struggled to rebuild. The skill holders and creatures, once so powerful, were now humbled by the destruction they had caused. They had killed the gods, but at what cost? The world was forever changed, and the Extraction Wars were remembered as a cautionary tale of greed and ambition.

The few survivors of the war spoke of the gods' power and wisdom, of their ability to shape the world with mere thought. And many more would not mention their involvement in the wars at all. They regretted their actions, or at least, the destruction they had caused, coming to the realization that the gods had only sought to create worlds and had little interest in interacting with them beyond protecting them. But it was too late. The gods were gone, and the world was left to pick up the pieces. Many beasts, creatures, ambitious beings and men seized power during the wars and became something much greater, things never seen before or since. From powerful men to lucky beings who stumbled upon dying and dead gods before anyone else. Many became better, some became worse.

***

Evan found himself standing there, dazed, watching all of these events unfold, with the world shifting around him from place to place in the blink of an eye.

“What the f-”

Time-Smith - Interlude: Gold & Diamonds

Lady Sariel

Lady Sariel stood atop one of the towering megastructures in the grand palace of the ruling council, overlooking the city that she in all but name held dominion over. From this vantage point, the entire city was laid out before her, a sprawling mass of buildings, streets, and people. She looked upon it with a mixture of pride and amusement. The people below scurried like bees, going about their business without a care for the dangers that lurked beyond the city's walls. They were oblivious to the true threats that loomed over them like dark clouds, ready to rain down destruction at any moment. The view was impressive, no doubt, but it did little to soothe her anxieties. She knew better.

She let out a sigh, her dark eyes scanning the city for any signs of trouble. The wealthy district in the centre was bustling with activity, as always. The powerful skill holders and their staff moved about with an air of superiority, with attendants catering to their every whim. Lady Sariel felt a twinge of jealousy, despite her own wealth and power. Their skills were awe-inspiring, but they were also incredibly selfish, hoarding their abilities and using them to maintain their own luxurious lifestyles.

Her attention turned to the outer provinces, where the dregs of society lived. It was a pitiful sight, the contrast between the two districts stark. Lady Sariel had done what she could to improve conditions for the common folk, but there was only so much one person could do. And yet, despite the overwhelming odds, she felt a glimmer of hope.

Her men reported to her that they had captured a young [Immortality] skill holder on his testing day, and as a result Lady Sariel couldn't contain her excitement. It was a stroke of luck, to be sure, as [immortality] skill holders were exceedingly rare. She couldn't help but smirk at the thought of the young man, so full of hope and potential, who would have his skills stripped and would be left to wither away like all the others. The irony was not lost on her.

But Lady Sariel had bigger plans for the young man's skills. The extraction ritual was a risky process, but she had faith in her artificers. The prospect of true immortality, something close to demi-godhood, was too tantalising to resist. She would become more powerful than ever before, a force to be reckoned with for centuries to come.

The thought of her own mortality persistently gnawed at her, serving as a constant reminder of her own limitations. She had mastered her current skills to the best of her ability, but they could only take her so far. The aches in her bones and the wrinkles in her skin were evidence of that. She needed something more, something that could make her truly invincible.

She chuckled again, this time at her own expense. The human condition, always striving for more. It was a never-ending cycle, a joke that no one seemed to get tired of. And yet, here she was, playing her part in the grand scheme of things.

As she gazed out over the city, she couldn't help but feel a sense of pride at what she had achieved. The ruling council members may be corrupt and selfish, but they were still powerful and cunning, always looking for ways to gain more strength. Lady Sariel was no exception. She knew what she needed to do to remain in power, and she had been powerful her whole life.

It was a wonder that the city had managed to survive this long, but it indeed had, largely due to her own efforts. It thrived. She had built up the city's defences, created a network of spies and informants, and amassed a vast fortune. She had once believed the city to be a house of cards. Balanced precariously on a sea of horrors, a beautiful, advanced house of cards. Now that she would be immortal, her house would transform into a house of steel, a house of diamonds; one that could weather any storm or catastrophe.

Soul of Blades - Chapter 6: Harsh Realities of the Sword

In the heart of the strange jungle, Alex watched as the portal pulsated with arcane energies, the system message glowing in his mind's eye.

[Quest sub-system granted.]

A jolt of shock coursed through him. Quests. The surreal reality of his situation had been given stark clarity.

The list of tasks laid out before him hung in the air, a panel of demands, expectations and challenges. His gaze traced over each quest, the potential rewards enough to elicit a pulse of intrigue.

[Active Quests: Infinite prospects: Reach level 25. Reward: Unlock class.]

"Frustratingly vague," Alex muttered, his eyes narrowing. There were no explanations, no pointers. A feeling of disorientation gnawed at him.

[Floor Quest: Complete one quest to gain access to the next floor

1: Inducted Survivor: Survive for 168 hours (1.20/168.00) - Inductee grade

Reward: 'Survivor' Feat - need for sustenance of all kinds reduced by 50%

2: Wild Warrior: Defeat a floor Guardian (0/1) - Normal grade

Reward: F grade equipment, 'Warrior' feat - all stats +5% when in battle against stronger opponents.

3: The Champion: Defeat all floor Guardians (0/2) - Hard grade

Reward: Inventory skill, E grade equipment, 'Champion' feat, all stats + 5% when outnumbered in combat

4: Floor Destroyer: Destroy or Conquer the wolf tribe and all floor Guardians inhabiting the first floor (0/3) - Hell grade]

Reward: warrior feat, champion feat, survivor feat, Unique Skill Creation - Unknown grade]

Alex stared at the screen that seemed to float in front of him, projecting a magical blue light. Information filled the screen, about quests he could complete, rewards he could earn. He frowned at the sight of the words, "Inductee grade," "Normal grade," "Hard grade," and "Hell grade." The screen held promises of power, rewards, and threats of untold danger. "Reach level 25." "Survive for 168 hours." "Defeat a floor Guardian." "Destroy or Conquer the wolf tribe." It all sounded straight from the pulp fantasy films, and media he had once devoured, but this was no film. The aches and pains he'd felt only minutes ago attested to that.

Hell grade. Wolf tribe. Floor guardians. The terms circled in his head like a carousel. The tougher the quest, the greater the reward – he reasoned. It was plain to see. The number and grades of the items and ‘skills’ increased with each quest. If he wanted to somehow return to Earth, he would need all the rewards and strength this dungeon had to offer.

But if he was being honest with himself, those reasons for choosing a higher grade quest were only half true. Deep down, he knew he should choose the ‘Inductee grade’ quest, and then slowly test the waters of each quest to see what he could manage.

But there was something inside him that tugged his eyes and his heart towards the ‘Hell grade’. His mind went back to his first battle with the giant wolf. The thrill, the terror, the bloodlust, and most of all; the growth, and the challenge.

It was the first time in his life he’d truly had to apply himself, the first time he’d overcome odds stacked against him, and solve unsolvable problems. The first time he’d ever had to try.

He’d almost died a few times in his life- the odd accident, illness, or crash. But never come close to death during a battle. Even when outnumbered. Even when ambushed. Even when using real swords.

Except for those guys with that gun, he thought. But that doesn’t count. After all, a gun is just a sword that cheats. How could a sword compete with a firearm?

He shook his head and returned his thoughts to his encounter with the giant wolves. Images of intense combat, desperate struggle, and frantic resistance played through his mind. Never in his decades of living had he ever experienced the cocktail of emotions that came from winning and experiencing that battle. He felt as if his unarmed combat techniques had improved more in those 10 minutes of life and death battle than they had in decades.

It was as if he’d found his calling.

He would walk down this path, it felt as if it was what he was born for. Reborn I guess. If I follow this path, I can’t even imagine how much I could grow with the sword. I’ll be stronger, hopefully strong enough to make it back to earth. He decided as his eyes continued to scan the quest details. And plus, if it gets too dangerous, I can always just quit and go for the survivor rewards.

But despite his convictions, as he studied the screen, the tasks they laid out seemed to grow by the second. Nothing was clear, and the details felt vague.

Each quest seemed more impossible than the last. Alex looked at the 'Floor Destroyer' quest, and his resolve solidified. It wasn't just one Guardian he had to fight, but three. What’s a ‘Floor Guardian', anyway? He wondered.

More questions without answers. His head throbbed.

“Damn,” he muttered. “Could’ve used that tutorial.” A system message blinked:

[System message - Missed opportunity: Inductee 6,000,000,042 has missed teleportation to Inductee Tutorial Zone.]

[Cause: transmigrated, rebuilt.]

He blinked, "What does that even mean?" He questioned the artificial sky above him, no response forthcoming. An unsettling realisation crept into his thoughts. "How many floors are there, anyway?" He wondered aloud, glancing around the seemingly endless jungle. The horned wolves, the jungle, the alien sky, it all had to be artificially crafted, right?

His mind spun with implications. He'd missed the tutorial because of the sudden transmigration and reconstruction. As his eyes skimmed over the quests, the complexity of the situation began to sink in. Alex wanted to curse, to rage against the system. He was at a disadvantage, bereft of a tutorial, thrown into a high-stakes world without a moment's respite. The words "wolf tribe" rang in his ears. A prickle of fear ran down his spine, chased by a spark of excitement. If they were just horned wolves, he'd probably be fine. But the term 'Hell Grade'...that was cause for concern. The system must have set high expectations for high rewards.

He sighed, his shoulders sagging. The weight of his situation setting in. It wasn’t just him. His family – his grandfather who raised him, his younger sister – what were they doing? Were they okay? And this planet, ‘Pyra’... how did Earth fit into this multiverse? His mind was a chaotic mess of thoughts. For the first time, he felt truly alone. His grandfather's comforting stories, his sister's cheerful laughter—everything he knew and loved was miles away, lightyears maybe, across dimensions. He didn't know if he'd ever get back. But he was determined to survive.

His mind returned to the system's statement about Pyra and Earth being a part of the 'latest batch of worlds to join the Empire’. He swallowed hard, realizing the true scope of what he faced. Not just his life, but the fate of Earth and Pyra was at stake.

“Can’t worry about that now,” he grumbled, more to himself than anyone else.

Gazing at the quests again, he pondered the potential rewards. His lips twisted in a grim smile as he recalled his legendary feats and the resulting stat boost. "Hell grade, huh? Sounds like fun." Determination ignited in his eyes. "If they're just a bunch of horned wolves… it shouldn't be that big a deal, right?"

His thoughts were interrupted by the growling sound of the wolves. He quickly hid behind a tree, peeking from the foliage to watch as two beings very different from the horned wolves entered his field of view. Alex saw them through the slits between the leaves, and his heart began to pound as if trying to break free of his chest. The two towering figures that emerged from the undergrowth were unlike the freakish wolves he had expected to see - they still had the menacing aura of wolves, but their stature and movements were disturbingly humanoid.

Guttural growls filled the air. Alex froze, instincts honed from decades of Kendo practice taking over. He breathed deep, steadying his heart, and intensifying his focus. He slipped behind a thick tree, peering out as two large beings appeared. They were colossal, their muscular forms clothed in leather and metal. Each movement was fluid, predatory. He had no doubts anymore - these were no mere wolves. They were something more... something worse.

His thoughts drifted to the quests.

[Floor Destroyer: Destroy or Conquer (0/3)]

Alex blinked as the system message popped up in his vision. 'Destroy or Conquer?" he murmured. The term rang with an air of authority and danger. How could he conquer them? He didn’t speak wolf.

He would have to destroy, then.

He swallowed hard, his gaze drawn back to the beast-men. They were adorned in ragged leathers and crude iron, their bodies solid and rippling with raw power. One carried a bone weapon, gnarled and deadly. The other seemed to rely on its vicious claws and fangs, its eyes displaying an ominous sheening light.

The two large, intimidating wolfmen stalked through the grass, and moved with a strange, almost human gait. Strategies, clashed and spun in Alex's mind as he observed them. What would it take to defeat these beings?

Each step they took was measured, calculated, like a predator sizing up its prey. What's their deal? Alex wondered, studying their gait. They’re clearly intelligent, but what are they looking for?

Surprise painted Alex's features as he watched them sniff the air, before sprinting off in the direction of his previous battle. The sight of their clawed feet tearing through the ground was a chilling reminder of what he was up against. He gripped his shirt, the fabric damp with sweat. This wasn't a game, this was survival. He needed strength, he needed an edge.

He looked towards the giant wolf skull in his grip and the long horn that extended sharply out of it. It was unwieldy. Bulky as it was, he would not be able to use it to its full potential, he’d have to do something about that.

Those wolf men looked strong. He hadn't missed the way the ground exploded at each of their leaps, or the ripple of their muscled forms. Fully aware of his precarious position, Alex realised he had to blend in. He stripped down, rubbing jungle plants over his body and clothing, hoping one of his new stats would keep him safe from alien infections. He would need every advantage.

Alex quickly refocused his attention, returning to the portal. He needed to find a way to protect himself, to fight back. He needed a weapon.

He glanced at the wickedly sharp wolf-horn in his hand, and the skull it was attached to.

Gotta use what I've got, he resolved, his mind steady despite the uncertainty.

His fingers brushed over the sharp edge of a long, and thick rock. He knew he could use it, but he needed a handle. He looked around, finally settling his gaze on an unnaturally sturdy and even longer branch. He picked up the rock, carefully sharpening the branch before cutting and inserting the branch inside the skull, lodging it into the hollow beginnings of the horn before he felt something solid inside stop his push.

He held the skull against the jungle floor, and began to smash and chip away sections as quietly as he could, with grunts of effort that ruined his attempts at stealth. Once the skull was shaved down to just a forehead, eyeholes, a curved horn, and the thick stick that made its handle. He secured the two together with some vines, wrapping them around the skull and through the eyeholes to secure it. He then wrapped the vines in thick layers at its base to create a 'handle'. The 'blade' began at the grip, beneath vines and extended beyond the wooden base some distance. Using his enhanced body, he had attempted to make a crude semblance of a sword. He’d tied it as best as he could, but he couldn’t see it surviving the impacts of multiple battles. He would need to constantly find new sticks and vines to secure new handles. It was a pitiful weapon, but it was all he had.

[Floor Destroyer: Destroy or Conquer (0/3) - Hell grade]

Alex's eyes narrowed. Hell grade, indeed. He bit down on his lip, tasting iron. But fear wasn't the only thing coursing through his veins now. His blood was singing with adrenaline, his palms sweaty on the makeshift weapon. There was a certain thrill to this, a savage joy in confronting such dire odds.

His eyes drifted back to the screen, fixating on the word "Survivor." That was his first task. Survive.

In the distance, the beasts howled, the eerie sound sending a jolt of adrenaline through his being. It was a call to arms, a declaration of dominion over the jungle. Alex steeled himself, the grip on his weapon firm and unyielding. A fierce determination overcame his fear, fuelled by a single thought:

He had to survive. He had to grow. He had to be stronger.

As he stood up, he glanced back at the screen one last time. His gaze was steely, his resolve firm.

Armed with his crude weapon, dressed in the scent of the jungle, and fuelled by a tenacity born of desperation, Alex set off. He had his goals clear - to survive, to fight, and to ascend the floors of this forsaken place. And maybe, just maybe, once he was outside, he would find a way back to earth.

"Bring it on." He muttered. The wolfmen's movements echoed in the silence of the wilderness. The hunt was on.

As he disappeared into the undergrowth, a final message flashed strangely behind him, outside of his field of view.

[... ̶̯͇̈́̈͛d̶̺̆͜͠'̵̢̟͖̞̀͆.̷̯͍̩̹̋̍̅ ̸̭̃͒͠͝ ̴̧̛̺̠̞̌̈̚o̷̻̽̋̕ ̶̨̺̏͂ ̷͎̠̠̖̿́o̶̼̲͋͐͋͂ͅ g̶̅̓͛͝'̵̢̟͖̞̀͆'̵̢̟͖̞̀͆t̸͇̾̃̌̕i̶̧̹̽̈́̋̚ ...]

Table of Contents: Time-Smith

All Chapters

Contents: Time-Smith

• Time-Smith - Chapter 1: Evan’s Awakening
• Time-Smith - Chapter 2: Hunted
• Time-Smith - Chapter 3: A Second Chance
• Time-Smith - Chapter 4: Hunter - Part 1
• Time-Smith - Chapter 5: Hunter - Part 2
• Time-Smith - Interlude: Gold and Diamonds
• Time-Smith - Interlude: Extraction Wars
• Time-Smith - Chapter 6: Diamonds & Gold
• Time-Smith - Chapter 7: Blood Diamond - Part 1
• Time-Smith - Chapter 8: Blood Diamond - Part 2
• Time-Smith - Chapter 9: Phyrric Victory
• Time-Smith - Chapter 10: The Limits of Flesh - Part 1
• Time-Smith - Chapter 11: The Limits of Flesh - Part 2
• Time-Smith - Chapter 12: Draconian ideals - Part 1
• Time-Smith: Chapter 13: Draconian ideals - Part 2
• Time-Smith - Chapter 14: Dragons Gift - Part 1
• Time-Smith - Chapter 15: Dragons Gift - Part 2
• Time-Smith - Chapter 16: A storm of Fire and Ice
• Time-Smith - Chapter 17: Confessions
• Time-Smith - Chapter 18: Revelation
• Time-Smith - Chapter 19: Pressed for Time
• Time-Smith - Chapter 20: Dungeon - Dangerous Activities - Part 1
• Time-Smith - Chapter 21: Dungeon - Dangerous Activities - Part 2
• Time-Smith - Chapter 22: Life and Death
• Time-Smith - interlude: Bulwark vs Living Armour - Part 1
• Time-Smith - interlude: Bulwark vs Living Armour - Part 2
• Time-Smith - interlude: Bulwark vs Living Armour - Part 3

Time-Smith - Chapter 5: Hunter - Part 2

Evan opened his eyes to find himself standing in the peaceful forest, with Markus to his left, and Lucia to his right. All three of them whole, and alive.

It worked!? He stood there in stunned silence, unable to speak. His thoughts moved at pace while his body stayed frozen. But what did I just do? I only activated [Postcognition]... How am I back in the past? His thoughts came to a screeching halt as a familiar beast entered the clearing.

The Duskstalker.

The feline beast, as large as several horses, entered through a gap in the trees and eyed them curiously. The trio stood still in shock, awe, and in Evans' case, worry.

He grabbed Markus and Lucia and pulled them backwards without stopping, “Hey!?” She hissed in protest, “What the hells?” Markus hissed unnecessarily loudly in confusion, as both his and Lucias feet slid backwards some distance at Evans' hurried pull.

Now some distance away and surrounded by the shade of forest's trees, they looked back to where they had stood only seconds ago and saw a myriad of the sun's twilight rays surrounding the entire area.

Markus and Lucia shared a nervous and fearful glance, before looking thankfully at Evan, and then back towards the creature.

The beast studied them briefly before turning and sauntering away, disappearing into the forest. To the beast, this was no longer its hunting ground; there were no longer prey within the rays; it was no longer its time.

The trio held their breath in awe as it left.

“Gods,” Markus sighed in disbelief “We totally just almost died.” He paused in deep thought. “Well, you guys did. I probably would have survived.”

Evan shook his head with a chuckle. If only they knew.

Soon they continued their trek and spoke of the more dangerous beasts rumored to lurk in the woods, their encounter ignored, but not forgotten. They talked about the Blood Boar, a massive creature that could take down ten men with ease, and Lucia chimed in with a tale of a creature known as the screamer. It was said to be a predator that hunted at night, using its keen senses and razor-sharp claws to take down prey, a never-ending scream leaving its mouth. It was rumored to be unkillable, with a hide that could deflect even the sharpest of blades. Evan suspected it was just a rumor.

They continued on, moving deeper into the forest, vigilant. They marveled at the beauty around them—the gentle flow of a nearby stream, the soft chirping of birds in the distance. Towering trees loomed high above, watching, their branches interlaced like the fingers of giants, casting a dim green light on the party below them. And the party kept their eyes peeled for any signs of prey or danger, and their weapons ready at all times, wary of whatever lurked behind any corner or tree. As they entered a clearing, they noticed the sunlight filtering through the trees in the distance, casting dappled shadows and rays of sun on the forest floor. The leaves rustled gently in the breeze. They avoided the open canopy.

Marcus often tested his [Density Control]. Sometimes he'd sink into the earth like a stone. "Marcus," Evan grumbled, his ‘past’ battle of life and death now forgotten, "we're trying to be inconspicuous!"

Markus just shook his head in response "Ev, blending in is overrated. But you're right. I'll stop sinking into the earth. From now on, I'll only make the ground tremble beneath me." he flashed a grin as they trekked onwards.

They had been wandering through the dense forest for over an hour, their eyes scanning the undergrowth for any signs of life. Evan was honestly grateful Lucia placed a hand on their chests, silently signaling with her head for them to look forward. The trio's eyes fixed on a small deer-like creature rolling at an incredible speed, its agile movements making it appear as if it was gliding on the ground. Marcus, Lucia, and Evan were deathly still, watching the creature with a mix of anticipation and tension. Evan had heard stories of these creatures, but had rarely ever seen one in person.

They stood there, the three of them, transfixed by the small deer-like creature that was rolling incredibly fast towards them. They could hardly believe their eyes, and for a moment, they stood frozen, watching as it rolled past them and out of sight.

Its compact body was perfectly designed for speed, with sleek muscles well hidden under the dark red fur that blurred with light green streaks, mimicking the undergrowth around it. The small green stubs shaped like plant growths on its head were a unique feature that set it apart from other creatures in the forest, giving it an somewhat adorable appearance to the few lucky enough to see it, although to Evan all it did was remind him of those infernal squirrels.

Its strange antlers curved gracefully, adding to its majestic beauty.

As it rolled incredibly fast to escape predators, the creature was a blur of motion, a streak of color weaving its way through the underbrush. Its agility and speed were unmatched, making it a difficult target for hunters and predators alike. The green stubs on its head pulsed with magical energy, as if imbued with some source of power that aided the creature's escape.

The small deer-like creature's value as a delicacy was well known, but catching one was a rare feat, reserved only for the most skilled and fortunate of hunters. It was worth a month's wages for most hunters if caught. Its beauty and speed made it a thing rarely seen, and a sign of good fortune for those who caught a glimpse of it. In the forest, to hunters, it was a symbol of grace and agility.

Marcus was the first to snap out of his daze, and he cursed loudly as he watched the creature disappear into the distance.

"Dammit!" he shouted. "We almost had it!"

Lucia, still in shock, looked at Marcus with wide eyes. "What was that?" she asked.

Evan, always the level-headed one, stepped forward. Years of acting responsible to gain hunting privileges from his parents had given him good practice.

"A Verdant Stag," he said, his voice low and measured. "We're going to catch it."

The three of them exchanged glances, and, without a word, they immediately gave chase.

Evan exhaled. He reached out with his senses, feeling for the powerful sun-like reservoirs of magic that lay dormant within him. He could feel the mana around him, pulsing and thrumming with a power that he could barely begin to comprehend. Despite a lifetime of this, he still wasn't used to it. He focused on the energy within him, and he felt it surge to life, burning through his veins like a raging inferno.

As Evan began to tap into his magic, so too did Marcus and Lucia follow suit, each employing both of their own unique skills to sense the surrounding mana.

Marcus started practicing his [Gardening] mid-chase, flowers sprouting on the forest path behind them. "Marcus, it's not a gardening competition!" Evan yelled.

In response, Marcus dug his feet into the ground, strived to feel as light as a feather, and aimed to leap towards the creature, using the undergrowth as a springboard. The thick branches that sprouted rapidly from beneath him, however, rendered him too dense and heavy to move. As a result, he weakened the ground. Connecting with the earth, he drew upon its power, sinking deeper as he channeled his energy. Except for his shoulders and head, the rest of his body sank into the forest floor. Lucia, on the other hand, directed her focus towards the scrap iron knives clutched in her hands. With fierce determination, she launched them unerringly from both hands, the shards of iron shattering in her strong grip, spraying metal towards the creature.

As Evan, Markus and Lucia stalked the Verdant Stag, Lucia's [Iron Grip] skill appeared to have taken on a life of its own. She seized a rock to launch as a distraction but held it with such strength that it practically exploded into a shower of stone. The creature increased in speed and darted off further at the sound, Lucia murmuring a sheepish "oops" as they ran.

Startled further by her second attempt, it veered off its course and sped up, hurtling away into the distance.

Evan decided it was time to attempt to master his new skills, the battle with the Duskstalker had shown him just how dangerous the world, and this forest could be. He activated [Postcognition], and was assaulted with images and sensations, so many it was overwhelming. He stumbled as he struggled to regain his senses.

So much for that.

[Teleportation] it is, then. Evan thought, once again feeling the power surge within him, delved deep within himself to search for the source of his strength. This was familiar territory. He knew he had to restrict the amount of power he required and give it direction; however, he remained unsure about its limits. He focused on limiting the power he drew from his sun-like reservoir, as he did with his third skill, the one he'd used all his life, his secret skill, the skill that enhanced his other two. He strived to harness it with precision. He pondered whether he would ever reveal the true nature of his skills, especially his third skill, to his friends; he had never read about anyone possessing a skill like it in any history books.

He understood that he would become a hunted man. No, sharing this information would definitely not be wise. Struggling, with sweat beading on his forehead, he attempted to limit the flame he drew from his moving sun, but the energy erupted forth regardless, hot and bright. It exploded from the sun within his body and drove him forward in a blur of motion.

Evan went hurtling into the distance, disappearing and reappearing in a swirl of displaced air,

heading in the right direction.

"Verdant Stag? That's a fancy name for a very fast bush," Marcus muttered, squinting into the distance where the creature and Evan had disappeared.

***

The trio made their way back to the city province, exhilarated from their time in the forest. They had deepened their understanding of their skills and, although they hadn't managed to catch anything, they felt more confident in their abilities. Evan, in particular, experienced a sense of achievement, having restricted the power he deployed to utilize his skill.

As they neared the city walls, they marveled at the stark contrast between the forest and the civilization lying before them. The city buzzed with activity; merchants were hawking their wares and people were bustling about their daily routines. They traversed through the city, passing the outer provinces where the dregs resided. The scent of poverty and despair was almost palpable.

However, as they moved towards the city center, they felt a shift in the atmosphere. The buildings became taller and grander, the streets cleaner and more organized. They were entering the affluent district, home to the powerful skill holders and their staff.

The district stood in stark contrast to the outer provinces, boasting ornate buildings and beautifully manicured gardens. The air was thick with the scent of wealth and privilege. A sense of unease enveloped the trio as they navigated through the district.

The grand palace of the ruling council, a sprawling complex of buildings, towers, and spires reaching skyward, towered over everything else in the district. It was said that the council possessed some of the most powerful skills in the world and that their power extended far beyond the city walls.

Two central figures in the city, Lord Darius, the head of the ruling council, and Lady Sariel, one of the city's most powerful skill holders, were universally known.

Lord Darius, a towering figure with a stern countenance and a commanding presence, was known for his strategic mind and his ability to make difficult decisions. Having led the city through some of its darkest hours, including massive monster attacks that almost annihilated the entire city, he had earned the respect of the populace. However, many also feared him for his iron grip on power.

Lady Sariel, a much different figure, was known for her beauty and grace. A skilled warrior and a diplomat, she utilized her skills to negotiate peace between warring factions. Beloved by the people for her kindness and generosity, she frequently used her power to aid those in need. However, she was also known to be cunning and shrewd, always calculating her moves and never revealing her true intentions.

Both figures had their share of enemies, but many respected and admired them for their power, cunning, and personalities. Lord Darius was known for his stoic demeanor, rarely displaying emotion, while Lady Sariel was far more charismatic, often employing her charm to achieve her goals.

Their exploits were legendary; Lord Darius had led the charge against an ancient colossal beast, the 'walking man', which had attacked the city and everything in its path, while Lady Sariel had single-handedly defeated an army of skilled warriors who had threatened to invade the city.

Despite their power, they didn't perceive themselves as evil. They understood that the world was a harsh and unforgiving place and that, sometimes, one needed to do whatever it took to survive in a land where even the echo of a dead god's power could obliterate their way of life. To them, accumulating power was a necessary means to achieve survival for their city and the tens of thousands of people living in it.

The city, an engineering marvel, was home to many grand buildings and sprawling gardens. Its populace was diverse, hailing from all walks of life, and the streets bustled with ceaseless activity.

***

Surrounded by the towering wealth district's opulent mansions and grand gardens, Lucia led the way to her family's home. Her long hair swayed with each step, and her sharp gaze scanned the surroundings. Having grown up in this district, where power and prestige reigned supreme, she knew it like the back of her hand.

Lucia's home was situated in the eastern wealth district of the city provinces, a place rich with power. Evan could almost swear the air was saturated with mana. It felt nothing like the testing room. Here, its thunderous currents, which could easily be mistaken for a gentle whisper, brushed against his skin. He dared not tap into his skills to confirm this. They had been briefed on how to behave so as not to cause trouble in the district. Only residents were permitted to use their skills here.

As they neared the grand entrance of Lucia's family home, they were greeted with nods from a pair of muscular guards clad in black armor. Marcus and Evan eyed them warily, but Lucia, with a smile, ushered her friends inside.

The interior of the house was as grand as its exterior, complete with marble floors, towering pillars, and sparkling chandeliers. Lucia's parents awaited them in the foyer, her father being a tall, imposing man with a stern expression, and her mother, Lavinia, a petite woman with a warm smile.

"Welcome, welcome," her father boomed, shaking the trio's hands firmly. "It's been too long since we've seen you, Marcus and Evan. How have you fared since Testing day?"

Clearing his throat nervously, Marcus, whose hands were fidgeting, replied, "I've been... well, trying to get a grip on my [Density Control]. It's been a bit of a challenge, but I'm getting there."

Evan nodded in agreement, rubbing the sore bruise on his arm. "Yeah, and my [Teleportation] has been a bit of a rollercoaster ride. Literally."

Chuckling and exchanging amused glances, Lucia's parents responded, "Well, you've come to the right place," Lucia's mother said, leading them towards the dining hall. "My husband has a private training hall that he uses to hone his skills. You're welcome to use it as well."

Their eyes wide with excitement, the trio followed Lucia's parents to the training hall. The room was spacious, with padded walls and a high ceiling, designed to withstand even the most powerful of skills.

Lucia's father, Maximus, was a highly regarded skill user. He had discovered a novel application for his skill that had elevated him to one of the district's most sought-after individuals, propelling his family far up the social stratosphere from their humble beginnings. His stern face broke into a smile as he guided them to the hall.

Maximus watched with interest as the trio tested their skills. He wanted them to succeed, but the sight of the boy flailing across the room at such speed was rather amusing. He was confident that the boy would figure it out. However, he had never seen someone teleport so many times in quick succession... What was that boy made of?

***

Marcus gritted his teeth and focused all his willpower on increasing his density, sweat dripping down his forehead as the ground beneath him trembled.

Meanwhile, in the corner of the room, Lucia stood, her focus unwavering. Suddenly, she whipped out knife after knife, each hand targeting a different direction. Each knife landed precisely where she intended, embedding itself into the padded wall with a loud clang. Although she was not using her iron grip skill, the sight was still impressive.

Evan kept his eyes open, tapped into his skill, and focused on his teleportation's destination. His body disappeared with a loud whoosh, and he was flung through the void, reappearing moments later with a painful thud... This time, at least, he managed to execute a running stop, skidding across the floor on his feet. While resting, he decided to tap into his other skill. He concentrated on the well of power deep within him, causing the blazing sun of mana to shift towards his core. A wave of vertigo hit him as he was propelled through the air at high speed, straight through the ceiling with a crash and then skyward, directly into the heart of the city.

Straight into the grand palace of the ruling council.

Time-Smith - Chapter 4: Hunter - Part 1

It was early in the morning, a full day after gaining access to his skills. Evan felt ready and ecstatic.

Heading into the dense forest, Evan carried his trusted bow slung over his shoulder, and a quiver full of arrows at his side. The sun just started to rise, bathing the foliage around him in a jade glow.

The forest, with its ancient soul, stirred with anticipation as Evan delved deeper into its depths. It observed the lone humans steps with timeless curiosity. The towering trees leaned in, eager to catch a glimpse of the unfolding events this latest interloper would bring; their branches reached out like curious fingers. The rustling leaves whispered among themselves, their soft murmurs carrying an air of excitement and intrigue along the winds.

Each step Evan took deeper into the woods sent a satisfying crunch beneath his boots as the fallen leaves and twigs protested his intrusion.

Evan's eyes scanned the surroundings with acute focus, searching for any signs of movement or disturbance. Or prey.

Hunting was his passion; he relished the challenge of tracking and taking down elusive targets. The forest had always been Evan's sanctuary, a place where he felt truly alive. A delicate balance existed here, a dance between hunter and hunted.

Ever since he was a child, he had snuck out to the forest to watch the hunters work. Before that one time his parents found him a bloody and injured mess and forbade him from leaving the city. Years of trust-building had ensued for them to allow him to leave once more, and even more years for them to let him go this far. But it was more than worth it.

As Evan observed the tree line, a gentle breeze, like a mischievous messenger, caressed his cheek, nudging him forward on his path of discovery. It whispered secrets into his ears: tales of forgotten wonders and hidden realms that lay just beyond the veil of perception. The forest revelled in the unknown, thrived on the unfolding of events, and the interplay of fate and choice. As Evan strolled closer to the forest, another leaf brushed past his cheek, likely whispering some ancient woodland secret. Pity he didn't speak leaf.

Evan found himself taking a step forward, stopping when he heard rustling in the bushes behind him. He crouched, turned around, drew his bow, and nocked an arrow—a swift set of movements he practiced daily—now ready to spring free his intent.

He was surprised to see two familiar faces greeting him with wide grins. They were his childhood friends, a boy named Marcus and a girl named Lucia. Marcus had a boisterous personality, always cracking jokes and making light of any situation. He had a lanky frame and a mess of curly hair that seemed to have a life of its own. Lucia, on the other hand, was quieter and more reserved. She had a small frame and short, cropped hair that framed her heart-shaped face.

"Careful with those arrows, Evan," Lucia warned, watching him aim. "We don’t want another squirrel incident." Despite being in the presence of more magical and mythical creatures, Evan just couldn’t shake the feeling that the squirrels were watching them. And plotting something. They would always steal his rations from right under his nose, somehow. And his perfectly aimed arrows never seemed to hit them. And they usually hit everything. He was pretty sure that the forest's seemingly innocent squirrels were higher than imps in some hell's hierarchy. "You know, Lucia, these squirrels might seem harmless, but I've come to suspect that they're the true masterminds behind all the chaos in this forest. Don't let their innocent appearance fool you. They're like tiny furry overlords."

"Gods, enough about squirrels already! Evan, we heard you were heading out to hunt and we couldn't let you go alone," Marcus exclaimed, slapping Evan on the back. "I brought my new skills, [Density Control] and [Gardening], and Lucia has [Iron Grip] and [Ambidexterity]."

Evan was intrigued and asked them to explain how their skills worked. As they walked deeper into the forest, Marcus explained that his [Density Control] allowed him to manipulate his own weight and mass, making him stronger and harder to move. Lucia's [Iron Grip] allowed her to hold on to objects with immense strength, while her [Ambidexterity] enabled her to use both hands with equal skill and precision.

"You brought [Gardening] to a hunt, Marcus?" Evan asked, half exasperated and half amused. Marcus shrugged, "You never know when you'll need to grow a tree mid-fight!"
Evan pondered for a moment, realizing they were currently in the depths of a dense forest. "But we're in a forest," he pointed out.

Marcus grinned mischievously. "Exactly," he replied.

As Evan mulled over Marcus' response, an intriguing thought crossed his mind. A big impractical weapon? or... instant camouflage? Dang, that's pretty smart actually... Evan then gave Marcus a strange, appreciating look, silently acknowledging the unexpected ingenuity.

Evan grinned at his friends, happy for the company. "Fine by me. Let's go get some game."

As they walked deeper into the forest, they discussed the recent events at the testing ceremony. They had all seen the boy taken for his immortality skill, and it had shaken them. They wondered about the kind of horrors he would face, now that he had been marked as an immortal.

"It's scary how heartless those guards can be," Lucia said, shaking her head in disbelief.

“I'm sure he's out by now; they're just trying to keep us safe. Plenty of people get let go,” Marcus, ever the optimist, you had to love that side of him, really.

Evan didn’t want to talk about it. For a while, he just didn't want to worry.

He listened to his friends, impressed with their skills. He then told them about his own two skills, Teleportation and minor postcognition. They yipped and whooped before going silent, remembering where they were, and congratulated him silently.

Their conversation was interrupted by the sight of a strange creature with large, glowing eyes lurking in the shadows. It was a Duskstalker, a local feline predator known for its ability to blend into the sun's god rays—radiant sunbeams that illuminate the sky as the sun dips below the horizon during twilight hours—and ambush unsuspecting prey. As the sunbeams were most strikingly visible when the contrast between light and dark was at its peak, they knew to avoid the open canopy during twilight hours.

It was a creature of pure magic. It looked like a large cat, as big as any man, with a mystic and spellbinding appearance. Its body was covered in thick fur as black as coal, yet shimmering with an iridescent sheen in the light of the setting sun. Its form was lithe and agile, with powerful muscles rippling beneath its sleek coat as it moved with effortless grace.

The Duskstalker's eyes captured their attention. They were massive, larger than any creature of its size should rightfully have, and they shone with an inner light that seemed to pierce the very soul of those who looked into them. The eyes were a brilliant shade of gold, with cat-like pupils that dilated and contracted in response to the changing light of the sun.

Its most striking feature was its mane. It was a rippling mass of fur that shifted between the colors of the dawn and dusk as the creature moved, when viewed from different angles, the mane seemed to change colors matching the hues of some distant sky, ranging from the softest pastel pinks and blues to deep, rich purples and fiery oranges.

Despite its beauty, the Duskstalker was a formidable predator. Its razor-sharp claws and powerful jaws could take down prey many times its size. Hunters who dared to venture into its territory during twilight hours, when the sun's rays illuminated the canopy in a radiant display of color, often found themselves victims to the Duskstalker's ambush tactics. They had heard tales of hunters taken down by the beast's razor-sharp claws and powerful jaws.

The beast growled and stepped towards them, and in a panic, Evan tapped into his skills, the blazing mana of [Teleportation] shifting in his core and the mana of [Postcognition] deep in his mind engulfed him. The world briefly lurched and spun, the entirety of existence shifting across his vision.

His attempts at skill activation were interrupted as the sun shifted slightly overhead and peeked through the trees, the clouds far above the canopy having moved. The sun's god rays washed over them in a large swath. And In a heartbeat, Evan, Lucia, and Markus were exposed to the beasts hunting grounds; a myriad of sun rays. They panicked.

The Duskstalker pounced.

Evan yanked his bow from his back, an arc of motion so fast it blurred. Arrow nocked, he let it fly toward the Duskstalker. The arrow soared and missed, scraping off the beast's sheening furr.

The creature vanished as it landed near them, blending into the forest's rays.

Evan's eyes darted. His limbs moved with a speed that defied logic, launching him toward where he suspected the Duskstalker would reappear.

He was right.

The Duskstalker materialized, lunging for Lucia. Evan's body blurred as he moved at unnatural speed, stunning Lucia and Markus as he appeared in the beast's path in a flurry of movement. Evan was the strongest of the three, he always had been, even before they’d unlocked their skills. But they had never seen him move that fast before.

The momentum of his movement catapulted him like a human missile. He crashed into the beast's side with his knees.

Something cracked.

The Duskstalker howled as it recoiled. It swatted Evan away in a violent movement that left streaks of his blood across the forest floor. Flesh met flesh. The impact sent a shockwave through Evan's body, his bones aching from the collision. Evan tumbled and crashed into the foliage.

The beast's eyes narrowed in his direction as it vanished once more.

Evan's hand shot out, clutching a small tree, his fingers cracking its bark as he stumbled and raised himself from the ground. Sap spurted from the wounded tree as it attempted to twist away from him with movements that would take centuries to notice.

OK, healthcheck. He thought as he rose, examining himself for injuries. Nothings broken, but…Ow, that's a nasty gash. That thing sure packs a punch. The creature had scored a light gash across his shoulder, which was now swollen, bruised, and covered in quickly coagulating blood. At least I won't be bleeding to death, he sighed a pained breath of relief and looked around for signs of the creature. Markus and Lucia joined him in the desperate search.

Silence consumed them as they frantically searched. Lucia's eyes suddenly widened, she screamed causing the surrounding birds to take flight. "Markus, watch out!"

Golden eyes of the Duskstalker appeared some distance to their left and fixated on Markus, and Markus made the mistake of meeting its abnormally large feline gaze. To meet the gaze of the beast was to risk falling momentarily under its thrall. Transfixed by its gaze, Markus' body refused to move for a moment, but a moment was all the beast needed. It bounded towards Markus’s dazed form, its claws aimed at his neck. Lucia lunged as her arm shot out, her muscles propelled by her [Iron Grip] skill, her fingers dug into Marcus's gear as she tugged at his clothing and pulled him out of the way.

Markus felt the air displaced by slashing claws as he toppled sideways, just as the beast's claws swiped the empty space where he had stood.

He had just almost died.

The beast disappeared into the light rays, and the group moved as one into the shade.

Markus grunted, his face flushed in embarrassment and fear. "Thanks, Luci."

Evan grumbled, drawing for another arrow. "Where is it?" his fingers twitched on his bowstring.

The group still couldn’t see the creature. Only once it left the twilight dusk rays and entered the shade of the trees, would they be able to see it.

Their gazes shifted from sunray to sunray, eyes peeled for the beast's reemergence. Evan tightened his grip on the bow, eyes flitting between the closest beams of god rays filtering through the forest canopy above. Markus, beside him, spread his palms wide, ready to control his density at a moment's notice.

An air of uncertainty drifted through the forest's breeze, as it whispered the location of the beast to their unhearing ears. Lucia’s eyes were wide, her fingers twitching near her dagger. She clasped her dagger and pulled.

It shattered under her uncontrolled [Iron Grip].

The hair on the ends of Evans arm stood on end and he turned his head to the side, only to see a massive black mass of shadow and two large feline eyes that shone like polished gold bearing down on him.

Evan's muscles contracted in a split second, propelling him sideways like an arrow released from a taut bow. Air whistled past his ears. The creature’s talons met only the aged oak, ripping through the bark where Evan had stood. The tree moaned, its wood splintering into the air as if mourning its own disfigurement. Evan landed and rolled before springing to his feet.

He looked up and saw nothing but teeth and death closing around him.

In a mess of panic, he accessed his [Teleportation] skill. He sensed an unsettling tug deep within his gut. The pull tightened, as if woven from invisible threads of mana intent on dragging him to an unknown destination. His muscles tensed, his mind alight with desperate focus. He fought to keep the destination close, to remain in the fight, but it was like wrestling with a sentient tide. For a moment, it seemed as if the pull and the skill's mana had whims of their own, eluding his control. He fought it for control, and lost the battle for direction. In an instant, he found himself yanked toward that distant, unchosen place. He vanished from between the beast's jaws in a puff of displaced air and feline saliva.

Crash.

He reappeared some distance away, crashing through a nearby tree before slamming into another, coming to a stop.

Groaning, Evan twisted, palms scraping against the coarse earth as he rose to his feet. Dirt crumbled under his grip, an unsteady anchor in a forest uncertain of his survival. His lungs clawed for air. Muscles vibrated, tingling at his nerve endings. Where’s Lucia and Markus? He wondered between seconds. He looked around in a frenzy and saw them standing in the lightrays of the stalkers hunting grounds, like they had a deathwish. There they are, he thought. “Move into the shade!” he hissed as he raced to join them. They had to stay in the shade, that would be the only way they could have a chance to see the creature coming. Evan reached the pair in seconds as they moved away from the twilight. Just as a shadow appeared directly above the three of them.

The shadow growled.

Evan and Lucia leapt aside without even looking, leaving Markus to turn and gape at the creature descending on him with deadly intent.

“Oh hells!!!” Markus scrambled in panic and channeled his [Density Control]. He felt his body grow heavy, too heavy. His skills’ mana spiraled out of his control. It felt like he weighed more than a house as he found himself sinking, mired like a stone in mud. His feet sunk into the ground just below his hips as the beast pounced. He was stuck, unable to move his legs.

But he could still move his fists.

He closed his eyes and thrust his dense fist forward, connecting with the Duskstalker as it landed. A seismic thud echoed as he swung, and the impact sent the creature sliding backwards, tumbling and rolling before coming to a stop.

The beast rose and snarled, its eyes narrowed. It took a step back, retreating into the twilight, its form fragmenting into tendrils of dissipating darkness. It vanished, experience from countless hunts controlling its movements.

It would get them, eventually.

Evan scanned the woods, his eyes darting left and right. It's going to attack soon, but where from? And when? The beast was a shadow of light, a promise of death hidden between the interspersed rays.

The loud roar sounded as it reappeared some distance away, before leaping into the twilight, disappearing, reappearing and then disappearing again. Silence ensued as they searched for the creature.

It reappeared directly behind Evan.

Evan stumbled in his frantic attempt to move away. The beast jaws opened wide, milliseconds from tearing him apart. He found himself caught off balance, falling with no leverage to move and a beast the size of two horses poised to consume him.

[Teleportation] was risky, he hadn’t even come close to mastering the skill- but it was necessary.

He vanished as he tapped into the shifting sun of mana in his core, disappearing in a gust of air, displacing leaves, and snapping twigs. The beast's claw shredded the bark where he'd stood. Splinters scattered, torn through by claws that could carve through stone, and the trees of the forest leaned imperceptibly closer towards the smell of torn wood and impending death to better witness the hunt unfold.

Evan teleported, pulled by his skill into the void, and experiencing a split second, or milliseconds, of nothingness where the world looked… different. It came by and went so quickly he thought he’d imagined it.

His form reappeared, not on the ground, but in the sky, ascending rapidly, hurled into the air by his misfired skill. He soared upwards, flung, propelled by the force of his own reappearance. His eyes widened as he realized his ascent had left his friends vulnerable.

Below, Markus and Lucia were alone, their eyes meeting for a brief second. They knew they were in trouble.

Lucia pulled herself up, wincing. Markus struggled to extricate his feet, his eyes still on the spot where the Duskstalker had vanished. Both were vulnerable, their newly acquired skills inadequate shields against the lurking predator.

Evan soared higher, the ground receding below him. His friends looked smaller, their faces tinged with a blend of determination and despair. The god rays shifted, becoming a chessboard of light and shadow on the forest floor.

The beast lunged at Markus, immobilized by his uncontrollable skill. Lucia’s hands found the beast’s fur in her attempts to save him. She clenched her [Iron Grip] around the beast's fur.

A feline screech sounded through the forest as its skin tore under her grip.

The beast roared, tossing her effortlessly into a tree. Lucia spun in the air before crashing into the bark.

She gasped for air, struggling to regain her footing. She gripped a fallen branch as she rose. Her other hand clutched her side, bruised from the tree impact. Her eyes never left the beast moving slowly through the shifting patches of light that pierced the canopy.

It was stalking her now, toying with its food.

***

High above, Evan desperately loosed an arrow. The arrow flew from his bow as he fell through the sky. It hit nothing.

Evan looked down as the wind whipped around him. His friends were dots, the Duskstalker a dark smear.

He was too high. Too far to help.

They were going to die.

His bow, useless at this height, dangled from his hand. The sensation of falling upwards intensified, the forest turning into a green blur. The feeling of helplessness engulfed him, the distance between him and his friends widening with each passing second.

Evan reached the peak of his ascent. The world below was a labyrinth of darkness and fading light. His body reached its zenith, hanging for a fraction of a second before the inevitable descent.

And then he began to fall.

***

Evan's gut churned as he fell through the sky; a voice inside him screamed at his friends to run.

But they wouldn’t be able to hear him at this distance, and he didn't think he could survive the fall. His only options were to use the skill he had barely even mastered to teleport and arrest his momentum before he landed, and hope his friends survived an attack from a beast that was famous for killing experienced hunters.

Or… he could try to rewind time again.

But how did he even do it the first time? How did he move through time? He only had three skills, a skill that let him see the past, a skill that teleported him through space, and a third skill; one that had nothing to do with time or movement.

But none of them should allow him to travel through time. And as far as he knew, such a skill was virtually impossible.

So how did he do it?

The wind whipped past him as he fell. He was seconds away from becoming a bloody smear across the forest floor. Whether his friends were dead or alive, he had no idea, and soon it wouldn't matter.

As the ground drew near, Evan delved deep within himself to the reservoir of power hidden within his mind, the center point of his [Postcognition] skill. As he touched the skills mana, it burst forth, coursing through him and consuming his senses with hundreds of fragmented visions of the past.

The world went white as he hit the ground.

Time-Smith - Chapter 3: A Second Chance

Evan's eyes snapped open, the vivid memories of the timeline that had just reset still etched in his mind. The room around him buzzed with the priests healing and the soft light of their divine [Appraisal] skills, poised to ensnare those around him. His heart pounded, but not from fear. It was a rhythm of newfound understanding, a silent mantra that screamed, "Not this time."

Evan felt the priests' eyes on him, their gazes and outstretched hands like invisible threads trying to weave a net of mana around him. one priest murmured, almost to himself rather than to those around him."[Teleportation] & [Postcognition],"

A wave of panic washed over him as he realised his skills were being sensed and felt through mana. The priests would know if he used his hidden skill, and he couldn't risk being caught here. He tried to keep his breathing steady, his heart pounding in his chest as he fought to keep his fear under control. Despite his attempts at appearing calm, his pulse continued to quicken.

No, they were too close to discovering his third skill. He couldn't let that happen.

He reached for the sensation deep within, from one of the three suns of mana blazing within him. He flet a pulsing through his veins, filling him with a transcendent power that threatened to overwhelm him at any moment. He embraced it, desperate to escape discovery.

He shuddered as he sensed the sun of mana shifting through his core, sweat breaking out on his forehead as he struggled to control the raging inferno within.

And then, he felt it. A surge of energy, hot and bright, exploding from the sun in his body and propelling him forward in a blur of motion. his [Teleportation] skill activated and everything disappeared. The world around him dissolved into an abyss of blackness. He felt as if he were hurtling through a vacuum, a sensation that lasted only milliseconds but felt like an eternity.

Crash.

He collided with a stone wall, the impact jarring every bone in his body. The air whooshed out of his lungs as he slid to the ground.

A priest rushed over, her hands glowing with the soft light of a healing skill. Evan waved her away. He gestured, signaling he was fine, even if his body screamed otherwise.

His thoughts churned. How had he just seen the future? His [Postcognition] skill would allow him to see the past once he’d mastered it, not the future. Was it a fluke? Or was it a sign of something more, something hidden even from himself?

Evan's thoughts were a swirling vortex, mirroring the chaos he had just escaped. He knew one thing for sure: he had to leave, and soon. But where could he go in a world where even the gods had perished, leaving behind only their mana like an ocean waiting to drown him?

His eyes met those of the priest who had hurried over to heal him. Her gaze was filled with questions, but it appeared as if she bought his ruse at being unharmed. She turned and rushed towards an excited young girl waving a jet of pressurized water around like a childs toy, and not a dangerous whip that could dismember everyone around her.

I’m safe, he thought with a sigh. For now, all that’s left for me to do is get the hells out of here.

Evan glanced toward the chamber's entrance and moved, planning his next course of action.

***

Evan stood in the outer sphere of the chamber, surrounded by priests and other children. Note to self, never get injured while surrounded by killer priests! He chided himself for his lack of forethought. Dense mana filled the air, but it was dissipating quickly, the air dense and humid. It made Evan's skin crawl, and he could feel the weight of it pressing down on him. But he didn't dare show any discomfort. Not here. Not in front of the priests or guards.

The other children around him were practising their skills, some with more success than others. Evan watched them out of the corner of his eye as he spoke to the priest, trying to keep his attention focused on the man in front of him.

Evan found himself deep in conversation with Priest Alaric, who was investigating his newly acquired skills.

The priest, Alaric, was an old man with piercing blue eyes. He leaned in to examine Evan's face. Evan felt a shiver run down his spine at the memory of his attack, and had to remind himself that it hadn't really happened. The priest was a tall, chubby man with a sharp nose and stern expression. He wore a long robe of black and gold, the symbol of the Church of the all knowing Twins emblazoned on his chest. He peered at Evan through his spectacles, his eyes narrowing as he studied the boy.

“So” he checked the parchment in his hand, “Evan? You have demonstrated two skills. [Teleportation] and [Postcognition]. Most impressive. Can you explain your skills to me?" The priest's voice was low and gravelly, and he held himself with a quiet confidence.

Evan shifted nervously, his eyes darting around the room. Time to play dumb, he thought. He hoped this bozo wouldn't question him for too long, he wasn’t exactly a bad guy, but it was hard to have positive thoughts about someone you’d witnessed help chop your legs off, even if it was in another timeline.

I still need to figure out how the hell I time traveled. He made a mental note to experiment with his skills once he was safe and out of here.

"I don't know, Father.” Evan said, struggling to keep his face steady and composed. "They just...came to me. I didn't do anything to make them happen."

The priest nodded slowly, his fingers steepled under his chin. "I see. And have you noticed anything else? Any other applications or depths to them? We hold programs to help both youths and adults unlock their full skill potential, you know."

Evan hesitated for a moment, then shook his head. "No, Father. Nothing else."

"Nothing else, you say?" the priest mused. "Yet, we find there's always more than meets the eye.” The priest leaned closer towards Evan, almost eye-to-eye. “Some skills can be... multifaceted. We seek those with extraordinary potential."

Evan's heart skipped a beat at the priest's words. What did he mean by that? Did he know?

Evan's heart began to pound as beads of sweat formed on his forehead. He had to maintain composure, hide his true potential at all costs. He forced himself to look into the priest's eyes, and schooled his expression with empty confidence, "I am here to serve, Father, I wish I knew how I used it. But to be honest, I barely even know what I did." Well, he wasn’t actually lying. He didn't.

The priest held a warm gaze at Evans earnestness before responding, “those skills, there is a future in them. Now you’re of working age, and [Skilled], have you thought about what you plan to do?”

Evan's palms grew clammy as the conversation stretched on. Every passing second felt like an eternity, each word uttered a potential reveal of his hidden secret. And this guy was… persistent. Evan responded, a hint of his desperation to leave creeping into his voice. "Father, I appreciate your interest, but to be honest, I just want to live a quiet life. Maybe working the farm, or the forest. I wish to use them for the betterment of our city.” Well, that was half true, Evan thought.

The priest leaned back, a thoughtful expression on his face, "Living a quiet life. Indeed. But sometimes, silence can obscure something more... remarkable. You should be sure to choose a role that suits your skill."

Okay, does this guy just cryptically respond to everything, hoping some dumb kid will say he has [Soul Reaping], or something? And does that ever actually work? Not knowing whether he was being targeted, or if this was routine, was really starting to get to Evan.

He thought of the [Immortal] boys' screams and decided that perhaps, this was the priest's tried and true method of discovering desirable skills. It probably worked more times than one would think, if the priest kept using it.

Evan gulped.

The priest nodded slowly, making notes on a small piece of parchment. "Still, movement, & information. Interesting. And lucrative, once mastered. Truly, you must be blessed by The Twins.”

Evan shrugged, trying not to let his excitement show. He knew he had to keep his guard up, no matter how much he wanted to shout for joy.

"Thank you, sir," he said politely. "Is that all?"

The priest nodded. "For now, yes. But I'll be keeping an eye on you, Evan. You could be quite valuable to us."

Evan's heart sank at the words. He didn't want to be valuable to anyone. He just wanted to go home. He had to give them something.

“Thank you, father,” he muttered.

The priest studied him for a moment longer, then nodded. "Very well. Keep practising your skills, Evan. The Church will be watching your progress closely."

With that, the priest turned and strode away, disappearing into the crowd of children. Evan watched him go, his heart pounding in his chest with relief. It was a good thing the fully armoured guard had not appeared, Evan assumed he probably only came out for emergencies. With a skill like [Plasma Arc], he probably considered Testing Centre duty as something far beneath his capabilities.

As he left the testing centre and made his way back home, feelings of unease settled over him. The world was a dangerous place filled with dead gods and monsters both human and otherwise, and now he was even more of a target than before. Still, he was determined to use his new-found abilities to carve out a place for himself in this treacherous landscape.

He exhaled as he felt the afternoon sun warm his skin, and the breeze that accompanied it. Finally, he was safe and free.. Despite this, deep down, he knew it was only a temporary reprieve. He would have to be careful. He would have to keep his secrets close, and his [Skills] even closer.

As he turned the corner onto his street, he saw his little sister sitting by the entrance to their small home. Was she waiting for me? All this time? He thought, as the beginnings of a small smile crept onto his face and he hurried over to her.

The slight smile grew and spread across Evan's face into a full one as he approached her, his heart lightening with each step. He reached out and ruffled her hair, knowing full well that she'd retaliate with a playful punch later, probably when he was least expecting it, in his most vulnerable moments. Sibling rituals were not to be taken lightly.

"How was your day, Luci?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine curiosity.

Luci beamed up at him, her toothy grin proudly displaying a gap where she had recently lost a tooth, in the way that all children lose them. The wonders of childhood dentistry. She held up her prize, high in the afternoon light, for Evan to see "Good! I found a beetle!"

Evan laughed, feeling the weight of his responsibilities slide off his shoulders. The priests and guards, with all their pomp, circumstance and danger, faded into the background. And in the presence of his little sister and her beetle triumph, he found solace, a temporary escape from the complexities that lay beyond their doorstep.

For a moment, all he cared about were beetles.

Picking her up and heading towards their home, he closed his eyes, feeling the three suns within himself burning bright, their power ever surging towards a breaking point. The road to becoming an expert would be long and arduous, but he was ready to face the challenge. He would master his skills, all three of them. And he would keep his secret, himself and his family safe, or he would die trying.

No- actually scratch that. He thought with a sudden realisation. Other people will die trying, not us. We’ll live, and make it through this. We’ll thrive.

He clenched his fist and made a promise to himself.

***

Evan burst through the front door of his family's humble abode, a grin plastered across his face. The worn wooden floor creaked beneath his hurried steps. His mother and father looked up from their respective tasks, each one eyeing Evan curiously. He was practically bouncing with excitement, barely able to contain the news he had to share.

"I did it!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with wonder and excitement. "I unlocked my skills!"

His sister, wide-eyed with anticipation, leaned closer. "You have skills! What can you do?" she asked, her voice filled with innocent curiosity.

His mother, with flour-dusted hands, paused in her baking, while his father, hunched over a worn-out workbench, set aside his tools. They exchanged a glance, a silent understanding passing between them, both of them sporting a mixture of pride and concern. The world was a dangerous place for those with powerful skills, and they had suspicions about those who left the province. Many became wealthy beyond their dreams, living comfortable lives, and many more were simply never heard of again. Hopefully, their son's skills weren't too rare. Evan was too excited to notice their unease. He practically bounced over to his family, eager to share his newfound abilities.

"I can [Teleport]!" he exclaimed, as he approached them, his words tumbling out with breathless enthusiasm. "And I have [Postcognition]!"

And also Time-Travel, somehow, he thought inwardly.

His sister's eyes widened in awe as his parents looked on with a mixture of amazement and relief. The ability to teleport was a rare and powerful skill, but impractical. One use would leave its user out of commission, spent as if they had ran for miles without rest. Teleporters were usually retainers for the wealthy, in charge of transport and living lavish lives. This was good news. Postcognition was equally rare, and even weaker, but not to be underestimated. It offered a glimpse into the past, a tether to history and knowledge. One could peer into and relive the past as far as their body and mind would allow. Although usually not far at all, an hour at best for the most talented, and several for the strongest of mind and body in history. It was an invaluable skill. But the dangers of possessing such abilities were almost non-existent. They breathed a collective sigh of relief.

The sun was setting, casting welcoming rays across the sky. Its fading light seeped through the cracks in the worn wooden walls of Evan's home. He was trembling with excitement and fear, his hands fidgeting as he spoke. His mind whirred at the possibilities of what he could do with his skills and Time-Travelling.

And there were endless possibilities. It was overwhelming.

"I saw a boy get taken away by guards today," Evan said suddenly, his expression turning solemn. "He had a really powerful skill, and they just took him away. I can't stop thinking about it."

His voice quivered with concern, his words punctuated by the occasional pause as he struggled to find the right way to express his emotions.

His parents exchanged another glance, silently communicating their shared sadness at the state of the world they lived in. They both knew the risks that came with having unique skills, and the fact that some people would stop at nothing to extract them from others.

"It's okay, Evan," his mother spoke softly, her voice carrying waves of consolation. She placed a comforting hand on his quivering shoulder, her touch a gentle reassurance. "The gods will watch over him."

Evan's gaze hardened, his eyes flashing with fierce determination. "The gods are dead," he said passionately, his voice filled with a resolute conviction. "But I appreciate the sentiment, Mom."

His father nodded in agreement, a quiet pride filling his heart. Evan was rash, and reckless. His impulsive nature often left his parents on edge. But sometimes, he showed an insight that belied wisdom beyond his years, despite being an inexperienced teenager. Today was a pivotal day for his son, and the two skills he'd gained access to would dictate how he lived the rest of his life. Tomasz trusted Evans' judgment.

Evan’s mother placed a hand on his cheek, pinching them as if he was a baby, the indignation! "We may not know what the gods have planned for us,” she said, still wrangling his cheeks, “but we must have faith. Faith is what keeps us going in this world. Without faith, we are nothing.”

***

After spending some time with his family, Evan set out to test his powers. Dangers that flooded every corner of the world, but in that moment they meant nothing to him. Any fears or concerns were swiftly brushed away by the intense thrill that swept through his being as he teleported from place to place, hurtling through the air.

He really needed to figure out how to stop his momentum. And choose a direction. And land in that direction. Upright. And not feel like he’d climbed a mountain after every teleport.

And with each teleport, he’d found himself flung through the air as soon as he reappeared elsewhere, spinning uncontrollably, and crash-landing in unexpected places. As he rose from the ground, covered in dust, he wondered if this was how an alcoholic with [Flight] would feel.

No matter, he was still determined to master [Teleport].

He tried one more time as he tapped into the blazing sun of mana that moved through his core. He felt a strange sensation in his gut. A pull, dragging him away from his current location and into one of his choosing, he steadied himself and stared ahead, preparing to jump forward and land on the top of a small tree ahead of him.

His skill flung him backwards through the void.

His [Postcognition] proved to be just as useful, in that he had no idea what the past images and experiences of the forest meant. The images flashed across his vision, too fast and jumbled for him to understand, and no matter what he tried, he couldn’t peer into the past or future. But he would figure it out. Nobody else had experienced having a skill from childhood, except the legendary beasts & monsters of old. Maybe he was a legendary human? Heh. Of course he was.

As the sun began to set, Evan returned home, feeling invigorated and alive. His family greeted him with smiles and hugs, proud of the young man he was becoming. A life in the city plaza among the wealthy and powerful was dangerous, but lucrative. If he chose to be a porter, city traveler, enforcer of the law, or guard, he would live a life of luxury. As long as he avoided working for a megalomaniacal demigod, he would be fine.

***

The next day, Evan set to hunt in the city outskirts with the optimism only youthful ignorance could provide, because no seasoned hunter would be so cheerful when faced with the imminent prospect of potentially being dinner. Evan, a hunter by skill, and now [Skill], was about to attempt to learn to navigate a world where humans without exceptional Skills or resources were quite often prey. He covered his eyes against the rising sun as Tomasz offered some fatherly advice. "Remember, son, you miss one hundred percent of the shots you don't take, and ninety percent of the ones you do." In fact, he knew that Evan was a crack shot with a bow, but decided it wouldn't hurt to keep him cautious.

Evan said his goodbyes and set out into the forest, to hunt and face the unknown, unaware that the events that were about to unfold that day would alter the course of his life forever.

Time-Smith - Chapter 2: Hunted

Evan looked on with dread growing in his stomach, as he watched the guards subduing the boy across the chamber.

The other boy was still screaming, thrashing against his captors as they dragged him towards the door. The boy's skin was shining with a golden light, and as Evan watched in horror, he saw that the boy's body was mending itself even as it was being torn apart.

He recognised the skill instantly - [Immortality]. It would grant whoever gained it a taste of eternity. It was a rare and powerful skill, one that would make its bearer nearly invincible. But it was also one that would make them a target for extraction. The powerful, and the wealthy elite, would stop at nothing to extract the skill, leaving the bearer a withered dead husk.

As he watched the other boy being dragged away, fear gripped his heart. The realisation hit him hard—he was not alone in his fear. There were others like him, others with exceptional skills, others being detained and held captive.

And as he thought of his family, of his sister waiting for him, he felt a burning determination in his chest. He would escape this place, no matter what it took. He would get home to his family, and he would do whatever it took to keep them safe. Evan didn't know what his future held, but he knew one thing for sure. He now had three skills, and that made him something that had never been seen before. He would have to master all his skills and use that to his advantage, and he would fight tooth and nail to survive in this brutal world.

The chamber was filled with dense mana, swirling around them like a living thing, dense and cloying. The other children watched each other warily, unsure of what to make of the sudden surge of power that radiated from their small frames.

The priests, adorned in their ceremonial robes, gathered around him, their eyes filled with religious wonderment, despite seeing this many times before. Their whispers carried a reverent tone, mingling with the crackle of magic that hung in the air. And now, guards had been called in to contain the situation should their newly acquired magical skills spiral out of control.

Evan himself was lost in the maelstrom of sensation that engulfed him. He felt as though he had two new suns burning within him, their heat and light searing through his very being. The mana around him was almost a living thing, pulsing and thrumming with a power that he could barely comprehend.

He could feel it pulsing through his veins, filling him with a transcendent power that threatened to overwhelm him at any moment. He shuddered, sweat breaking out on his forehead as he struggled to control the raging inferno within.

And then, he felt it. A surge of energy, hot and bright, exploding from the sun in his body and propelling him forward in a blur of motion. He tumbled head over heels, his vision blurred by the sudden rush of movement. For a moment, he thought he would never stop, that he would be lost forever in the void.

But then, he slammed into the wall, his body crumpling in on itself as he cried out in pain. The guards rushed forward, their weapons at the ready, but the priests held them back, murmuring prayers and chanting incantations to calm the child's wild magic.

He lay there, gasping for breath, his body trembling with the effort of controlling his newfound magic. He could feel the other sun slowly shifting deeper into his brain, its power waiting to be unleashed. He closed his eyes, focusing his mind, trying to understand the vague feelings of its purpose.

And then, he felt it again. A sudden rush of images and sensations, the world twisted and spun across his vision, flooding his mind with memories of places he had never been, people he had never met. He gasped, his body arching off the ground as he struggled to make sense of the torrent of information.

The priests rushed forward, their hands glowing with soft light as they placed them on his head, murmuring words of comfort and reassurance. The young man felt a sudden surge of gratitude towards them, as if they were the only ones who could save him from himself.

No. That was wrong.

As the priests tended to his wounds, Evan closed his eyes, feeling the two suns within him burning bright. He could feel their power pulsing through him, filling him with an ethereal energy that made him feel invincible and vulnerable simultaneously.

He thought back to the moment when he had first felt a skill within him. As a child, the moment when he first sensed his first sun within himself. So different, and yet so similar to these two new additions. A dark, violently burning flame deep in his heart, thrumming with power every beat, pulses of mana spread through his every being. It had been a feeling unlike anything he had ever experienced before, a sensation that had left him breathless and confused. A sensation he was now feeling again.

Evan lay on the ground, gasping for breath, his body trembling with exhaustion. He had used his new skills, but he had no idea how he had done it. He knew he had a long way to go before he could master his magic, but for now, he was just grateful to be alive. The priests gathered around him, their hands glowing with soft light as they chanted incantations to heal his wounds. He had to get out of here.

"[Teleportation] & [Postcognition]," a priest muttered, unreadable symbols glowing in the air before his outstretched fingers. "And… What exactly am I seeing here?” his eyes scanned Evan as though he were a piece of complex machinery. “Another skill? Wait, this is impossible!? He has another skill!?!?"

The room plunged into a deeper silence. Teens shuffled and pressed themselves away from Evan, eyes wide in a cocktail of awe and terror. A guard tightened his grip on his spear, knuckles whitening as his face turned grim. “Are you sure?” He asked, with disbelief etched across his features.

“I'm p-positive.” He spoke loudly and looked from guard to priest, sweeping his gaze across the room. “My skill has never failed, and it's just shown me… something impossible.” He seemed lost for words. “The boy has done something impossible.” He then turned to face Evan, visibly shaken. “It's unbelievable… a miracle,” he whispered.

At the priest's proclamation, the guards drew closer, each armed differently — swords, glowing orbs, and a mace tinged with holy light

“Come with us, son. We just have some questions to ask, then you’ll be released.” A guard spoke to Evan gently, in contrast with his menacing approach and drawn sword. But Evan wasn’t fooled, he knew if he went with them now, he would never see the light of day again, or the light of another night, for that matter. The youths cowering along the chamber walls became statues as they watched the guards draw weapons and approach Evan, their eyes wide with dread.

Chains of golden light sprung from the priest's hands and encircled Evan, they wrapped around his torso, wrists, and ankles, tightening their spectral grip and constricting his breathing. His body levitated, raised by the chains and suspended in mid-air as the guards advanced. The priests closed in close behind, their faces masks of bewilderment and disbelief at Evans mere existence. The teens who had been undergoing the same rite as Evan pressed themselves against the chamber walls, their eyes wide, filled with a mix of awe and terror.

Evan felt it then, in that moment as he hung suspended—a pull, a tear, a rift in his sense of self. His perspective shifted as his consciousness burst from his body through the chains engulfing him, drifting to land among the crowds of teens. Confusion swarmed his thoughts as he witnessed himself being suspended in the air in floating chains, as if watching an artificer's moving picture. It felt like the infamous skill [Astral Projection]. But he didn't possess [Astral-projection]; three skills were implausible enough, and four were out of the question. So what exactly was happening? How was he existing outside of his body?

And how exactly was his body still moving without his control?

Above, his body thrashed, snapping the golden chains as if they were mere threads. the chains shattering like glass against a stone floor and dissipated into the ether. His physical form lunged forward, a flash of movement in the otherwise static room. “Don’t let him escape!” One priest extended his hand as he yelled, palm glowing. Evan witnessed his body dodge the [Holy Bolt], a golden manifestation of sharp death, missing by inches and scorching a tile on the wall behind him. He winced as it soared past his ethereal form, as if feeling the heat himself.

Those bolts can probably hurt my spirit, or soul, or whatever this form is. Maybe it's because this form isn’t protected by my physical body? Evan realized. He stepped with ghostly legs to the side, and stood behind a fellow more physically natured youth as he watched the battle unfold.

A guard had stepped forward, brandishing a sword, the red flames of his blade flickering in sync with his steps. Evan's body met steel with steel, a single sword appearing in his hand as his body snatched it from a nearby guard with a blow that sent him sprawling. Evans' body swung to meet the guards charge.

Clash.

The weapons met, a dissonant chord in a chamber filled with the silence of frightened youths. The guard stumbled backwards, unable to match Evans' strength.

His body sidestepped, narrowly avoiding a stab from a second guard. Adrenaline—no, something far more potent—coursed through him. Or his body, at least.

A priest thrust his mace upward, aiming for Evan's head. Before it could touch him, Evan’s fist lashed out in a blur, and the priest fell backwards, sliding across the ground as if hit by something much more than a mere sixteen year old boy.

"Attack together!" the head priest commanded in confusion, as if such a tactic could conquer what they didn't understand.

Evan’s body flickered from view, disappearing and reappearing in another place in a blink. The momentum from its [Teleportation] carried it like a missile.

Crash.

Evans' physical form reappeared in mid-air and crashed into two guards like a cannon. The guards, clanking in their armor, tumbled to the ground with faces a mix of surprise and pain.

He watched as his body backflipped, avoiding a cascade of [Holy Bolts] summoned by a priest. The golden bolts hummed and buzzed with divine inscriptions as they shot forward in a deadly spray. A guard leapt before the huddled youths to block the cascade, summoning a shield twice the size of his body.

But it was not enough.

The teens screamed as the light struck the unprotected few, flames bursting across their forms. A small number of priests ran to aid the guard in protecting and healing the children.

They turned fearfully to watch the battle, all of them now viewing Evan as if he was some sort of monster.

Evan’s body touched down, legs quivering but stable. He glanced at the guards and priests who had tried to subdue him, their eyes awash in disbelief and perhaps, the dawning of fear.

Another attacker swung his sword horizontally, cutting through the air where Evans’ neck would have been a split second before.

“You idiot! Don't kill him!” A frantically charging priest yelled.

His body ducked. And a cold sweat clung to his disembodied spirit’s forehead. What if I die while in this state? He wondered in frozen panic. Would I become a ghost? Forever drifting around the world? Or even worse, stuck in this room? Gods, that would suck so bad. Evan began to attempt to will his corporeal form to return to his body, and when that didn’t work. He rooted for his body’s escape attempt with all he had.

As he took in his current ghostly state, and the state of his physical body, Evan's thoughts were a maelstrom of concern. Only one of his three skills were truly suited for combat, and he had hardly mastered it, let alone his newer skills. He didn’t think they would be enough to escape, especially while disembodied with no real control over his actions. This wasn't just magic. It was something else, a manifestation of will, as if his very DNA screamed resistance against capture.

A nameless guard brandished a sword made entirely of blazing sapphire coldflame, its light cast dancing shadows behind the huddled teens and the guard protecting them. With a yell, he lunged.

And swiftly, he was dodged.

Evan’s body twisted, as if boneless, leaving the burning sword to cleave only air. Evan’s disembodied spirit marveled at the spectacle, his thoughts a jumble all geared towards escape.

But while a majority of the guards who tended to oversee testing centers were often new recruits on ‘babysitting duty’ this guard in particular was trained well.

Extensively so.

The guard instantly shifted and spun, and an armored boot whirled and caught Evans' physical form in its midsection. The boot shone with a strange light, and Evan's body went tumbling to the ground.

Every testing had one or two well trained guards to watch over the new recruits and teens, and Evan’s disembodied form had blindly hoped this center would be devoid of its more capable defenders.

A priest Evan recognised as Father Alaric drew a mace imbued with holy light, a radiant beacon in a pit of chaos. A low chant slipped through his lips, power gathering. He swung at Evan, and in the same moment a luminous net materialized behind him, floating toward Evan's body.

The blow landed, and Evans' body went flying into the air.

His body somersaulted off the wall, contorting mid-air as if pulled by unseen strings. The net found only empty space, dissipating into motes of light.

A second priest, eyes focused, fingers twitching, wielded no weapon but guided a swirling vortex of wind with a mere gesture. It shot toward Evan's body like a bullet.

Diverted.

Inexplicably agile, his body ducked, and the gust of wind slammed into a wall, dissipating in a burst of dust and debris.

His body pivoted then, facing the teenagers who lined the chamber. The look on their faces mirrored his inner turmoil: terror, curiosity, a smidgen of awe.

Priest Alaric cursed under his breath, his holy mace radiating with an even brighter light. He swung it in an arc toward Evan's body, an action demanding finality.

A moment suspended in time. The chamber fell quiet, each person grappling with the unfathomable display of holy light.

And the blow hit nothing but air.

Just as suddenly, Evans' body flickered again. Vanishing in an uncontrolled whirl of [Teleportation].

His body's back met a guard's chest as a crack resounded. The guard dropped, unconscious, a look of confusion permanently etched on his face.

Another guard, her face hidden behind a mask of concentration, extended her palm. Ropes of lightning burst forth. Evan’s body twisted in mid-air, attempting to dodge the bolt. But dodging lightning was apparently beyond his capabilities.

The lightning engulfed him, trapping and seizing him as it burnt into his skin.

Even in his disembodied form, Evan felt the electricity in the air, smelt its ozone tang. I’m going to die, he realized with slowly creeping dread. Is this what the gods felt like before they died, watching a world they could no longer touch? He tried once again in vain to will himself to reconnect with his physical body.

It broke free from the lightning in a display of inhuman strength, and lunged towards the chamber's entrance. Evan's heart filled with hope as the door opened, the path to his freedom within sight.

Until a guard stepped through the door, decked in full silver armor.

But Evan’s body was a blur. He watched as it vaulted across the chamber and slammed into the guard standing in the doorway. The guard grunted, struggling to maintain balance, but still managing to remain rooted and upright.

"Mistake," the guard snarled, conjuring energy around his fists that sucked in the light and burst into liquid flame, manifested into a sword of pure physical heat, a buzzing heat so strong and contained it seemed to carry an immense weight to it. Evan gulped as he realized what he was looking at; the guard had the skill; [Plasma Arc], and had managed to somehow turn it into a blade. A [Plasma Arc] skill could create an extremely hot and powerful stream of fire made from its electricity. It could instantly cut through things because of its incredible heat and strength. A truly dangerous skill.

Evan's heart sank as the guard stepped forward.

The guard lunged, blade aimed at Evan's torso. Evan's body dodged, but not fast enough. The blade grazed his side, searing through fabric and flesh. The smell of burnt skin filled the air.

Evan's body flickered, disappearing and reappearing across the chamber, hurling itself at the guard. The guard sidestepped, effortlessly dodging the body's trajectory.

"Is that all?" The guard's voice dripped with disdain.

Evan's body reappeared, this time above the guard, descending like a comet. The guard looked up, eyes narrowing. With a swift motion, he swung his plasma blade upwards.

Evan's body was severed at the knees.

His legs fell to the ground with muted thuds, twitching. His torso crashed next to them. The guard sheathed his plasma blade, its fiery aura dissipating.

"Enough," the armored guard commanded. "This could alter the fabric of our world, do not toy with the boy. Take him away. And you,” He pointed at a nearby recruit and spoke once more, “round up the rest of these youths for questioning."

Evan, disembodied and helpless, could only watch. His body lay there on the chamber's floor, defeated and legless, tears streaming down its face as if it had thoughts of its own. The guard turned and walked away, leaving the chamber in silence.

Priests swarmed around him, hands glowing. The light of their skills touched the raw stumps where legs had once been, and sinew knitted itself back together, stopping the bleeding. One priest, her eyes moist with reverent tears, touched Evan's forehead, and muttered in disbelief, "It's true. Blessed be… it's really true. He has [Teleportation], [Postcognition], and [Fle-"

Evan felt a pull at the center of his being, and the world blurred and twisted.

His consciousness surged back to his physical form—bruised, scorched, dismembered. He braced himself for the agony that would come with reentering his beaten body.

No pain came.

Instead, the soft breeze of the chamber's air caressed his resting form. The thick mana in the air made the hairs on his arm stand on end. His feet felt the cold chamber floor.

Feet?

His eyes darted around. He was whole. Uninjured. The guards stood at ease; priests mingled, and other youths excitedly tested their newfound skills.

A priest approached him, hand outstretched. The hand glowed as the priest attempted to Appraise his skills.

Did i just… travel back in time? Evan was too shocked to even think. He stood there in a muted daze.

His new skills were [Teleportation] and [Postcognition]—Postcognition was supposed to only allow him to briefly glimpse at the past.

But… How had he just managed to see the future?

The priest drew closer, muttering words of [Appraisal], and the deadly future he’d witnessed was about to repeat itself. When faced with that brutally bleak future, a thought took over the forefront of his mind:

How could he avoid it?

Time-Smith - Chapter 1: Evan’s Awakening

The sun was just beginning to rise over the sprawling slums of the city of Evercrest, and as the first light of day emerged, the city awakened, enveloped in its gentle, warm orange radiance. Its rays reflected across the dilapidated buildings and alleyways, like a magical filter, of sorts, that could make even the most run-down buildings seem somewhat picturesque.

The boy, who was decidedly not Evan, but a fellow nameless member of the slums, rubbed the sleep from his eyes, yawning as he sat up in his cramped, dimly lit bedroom. He could hear the sounds of vendors setting up their stalls outside, hawking their wares to unsuspecting passers-by who were still half-asleep and likely to make impulsive purchases.

He was just another face in the crowd, living in the city's lower quarter, where the air was filled with the scent of sweat and desperation. He had spent his whole life here, struggling to survive in a world where power meant everything. The boy knew he wasn't powerful. He was just a skinny, scrawny kid with nothing to his name but a rickety old bed and a few ragged clothes.

But today was different. Today was his testing day.

He dressed quickly, pulling on his best clothes and making his way.

He resisted the urge to run, barely, and walked through the bustling streets, giddy with anticipation, navigating through the sea of faces, all heading towards similar destinations—the closest testing center. Today was the day that every adolescent in the kingdom was tested to unlock the two skills they were born with. It was a day of excitement and terror, for the results of the test would shape the rest of their lives.

Everyone in the kingdom and everyone in the world would unlock their two skills at some point in their lives. It was a law of nature, a law of the universe, and a law some believed was once ordained and enforced by the gods. Just two, since the dawn of time. And while some unlocked their two skills in extreme and mana filled environments, others were artificially induced, in rituals that differed from city to city.

And in Evercrest, every adolescent had to undergo testing after their sixteenth birthday. It was a bi-annual ritual that had existed for as long as anyone could remember. They would be locked in a room heavily saturated with mana, and two skills would be unlocked - one, or both, fantastical. Although the unlucky few unlocked two skills that were just slightly more than mundane. Maybe they could run faster, work harder, or jump higher. But they never seemed to do more than just that. Congratulations, he thought glumly. You can run faster than the average jogger. Woo-hoo.

The boy who was not Evan, had been eagerly waiting for this day for years, hoping he would be granted powerful abilities like the other kids in his country.

The streets were bustling with activity, and the young man could feel the nervous excitement in the air. He had heard stories of kids who had been granted incredible skills—skills that could make them rich, powerful, or both.

The young man stood outside the door of the testing chamber, his heart pounding with anticipation, along with the countless others around him. The overseer—the local priest in charge of this facility—smiled and gave him a warm look as he entered the room. “No matter what happens today, boy, the clergy will always have room for you.”

The boy smiled back, thinking he would rather sweep the streets than dedicate his life to some dead God. Ah, the good old dead God backup plan. What an enticing offer.

The overseer was a good man, but so were most people in the city. He hoped his skills would allow him to avoid either mundane fate.

He had dreamed of wielding powerful magic, or perhaps unlocking the ability to move swiftly and quietly between shadows, or becoming a versatile aerial mage. But as he stood there, waiting for the door to open, his mind began to fill with doubt. He couldn't help but expect a useless skill, or even worse; something that would take a lifetime to master. What if he wasn't good enough? What if his skills were weak and useless? What if he was relegated to a life of poverty and servitude?

As he pondered these questions, the door finally creaked open, and a robed priest beckoned him inside. His heartbeat rose as he was led into the testing room. The room was heavily saturated with mana, the air thick with power and possibility. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. The priest began to chant in a language he didn't understand, with words sounding suspiciously like gibberish mixed with a foreign incantation, and the boy felt a surge of energy flow through his body. As he was bathed in mana, he felt a strange sensation wash over him.

The boy felt a surge of power, unlike anything he had ever experienced.

It was like he was being pulled apart piece by piece. He felt his skin tingle, his bones ache, and his muscles burn. He gritted his teeth, trying to hold on as the sensation intensified.

And then it was over. He lay on the ground, alongside the others, panting and sweating, feeling like he had just run a marathon. He felt different. His senses were heightened, and he could feel the magic flowing around him, like raindrops. He looked down at his hands and saw that they were glowing with a faint blue light.

The priest was close by. He could sense the flow of mana in the air, like being submerged. "You have been blessed with two unique skills. The first is the ability to manipulate water, and the second…"

He looked up to see the priest overseeing the youths leaning over him, his eyes wide with shock. "This can't be right," the priest muttered.

The priest whispered words inaudible, an unreadable expression spread across his face.

The nameless boy's heart raced as he waited to hear what his skills were. The priest hesitated for a moment before finally speaking. "The second skill... is one that is only heard mentioned in legends," the priest said, his voice hushed and reverent.

"You have been blessed with the skill of [Immortality]."

The young man's heart skipped a beat. He couldn't believe it. Immortality? It was unheard of.

Was that even possible? To be Immortal?He had read about legends and myths of immortals, but he had never thought it could be real.

The priest continued, "With this skill, you will be able to withstand any injury or illness. You will never age or die. You will be immortal." The boy’s mind reeled with the implications of this revelation. He would never have to fear death, never have to worry about growing old or getting sick. He would be invincible. He felt a surge of excitement mixed with fear. He had a rare and powerful gift, one that would set him apart from everyone else in this world. He would have to learn how to use it to his advantage. He couldn’t stop himself from smiling. And he continued smiling even as he felt the currents of mana shift as the guards marched through the crowd to grab him.

The priest had motioned to the guards standing at the door, who quickly moved forward to detain the boy. The priest seemed to sense his confusion and sighed heavily. "You must understand, young man, that [Immortality] is a dangerous and volatile power. It has caused great harm and destruction in the past, and it is not to be trifled with."

No. No way.

The priest continued, "I'm sorry, young man, but we cannot allow someone with such a dangerous skill to roam free. You are to be taken into custody and brought before the Inquisitor for questioning. You will be released in the morning."

Like hell. Nobody had ever heard from anyone taken for questioning again, and those who returned only had useless skills with fanciful names.

The guards moved forward, their grip tightening like the jaws of a vise. The boy fought the guards with everything he had. His mind was reeling as he was led out of the testing room and into a nearby chamber where he was finally restrained. One guard summoned a taut whip of steel to restrain him. It moved like a snake.

He could feel the fear and confusion in the room, the other youths whispering among themselves as they watched him be taken away. The priest followed them into the room, a troubled expression etched on his face. "I know this must be hard for you, but please understand that we are only doing what is necessary to keep the city safe," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

He tried to protest, to explain that he didn't know how to use immortality harmfully, that he wasn't a danger to anyone. But the guards simply tightened their grip on him, and the priest shook his head sadly. "I'm sorry, my child. But the law is the law."

And with that, the boy was taken away, his future uncertain and his dreams shattered. As he was led down the dimly lit corridors of the church, questions gnawed at his mind, as he wondered what would become of him. Would he be executed for possessing such a dangerous power? Or would he be forced to spend the rest of his life in some dark prison cell, never seeing the light of day again?

The other teens in the testing room watched in stunned silence as the boy was taken away. They had all dreamed of unlocking powerful skills, but now they realised that those skills came with a heavy price. They whispered among themselves, wondering what would happen to the boy, and if they were punished for possessing fantastical abilities.

As the boy disappeared from sight, one thing was clear: the city of Evercrest was a dangerous place, full of secrets and power struggles that threatened to consume everything in their path. And the boy was now caught in the middle of it all, a pawn in a game he didn't even know was being played.

***

Evan watched all this in horror as the guards dragged the boy away, his fate sealed by the skill he had been born with. He had seen the terror in the boy's eyes as the priests discovered the skill. The skill of immortality was one of the most sought-after and dangerous skills in the world, and historically, those who possessed it were immediately hunted down by the wealthy elite for extraction. He knew the boy's fate was sealed. He attempted to swallow down the pang of sympathy he felt for the boy as it threatened to consume him. And a chill ran down his spine as he realised the gravity of his own situation.

He had always had a skill way before his testing day. Just the one. Ever since he was a child.

And he had just unlocked two more.

Now he had three.

How was that possible?... He wondered with excitement and dread in equal measure. Am I some kind of freak? Even [Hero]’s only have two…

Evan's gaze shifted to his own hands, memories from his childhood flooded his mind like a tidal wave crashing upon the shore. He had possessed a single skill long before his testing day. It had been his secret, a part of him hidden beneath the surface. He looked back to where another child was taken away, this one led quietly, with promises of special treatment.

Evan knew it was a lie.

He could hardly believe what he was seeing. He had always thought the church was supposed to help people, to protect them from harm. But now he realised they were just as much a part of the power struggles that plagued the city.

Table of Contents - Soul of Blades: The Transmigrated Swordsman

All chapters:

Contents: Soul of Blades

• Soul of Blades - Chapter 1: The Swordmaster's Awakening
• Soul of Blades - Chapter 2: Error 404: Earth Not Found
• Soul of Blades - Chapter 3: "Alive”
• Soul of Blades - Chapter 4: Predatory Nature
• Soul of Blades - Chapter 5: Decoding the System
• Soul of Blades - Chapter 6: Harsh Realities of the Sword
• Soul of Blades - Chapter 7: Blood, Sweat, & Beasts
• Soul of Blades - Interlude: Empire of War
• Soul of Blades - Chapter 8: Four Options
• Soul of Blades - Chapter 9: The Horde
• Soul of Blades - Chapter 10: Skill Selection
• Soul of Blades Soul of Blades - Chapter 11: Death vs Destruction
• Soul of Blades - Chapter 12: Clash at the Summit
• Soul of Blades - Chapter 13: The Dao
• Soul of Blades - Chapter 14: Respite
• Soul of Blades: Chapter 15: Apex Predator
• Soul of Blades - Chapter 16: A Class above
• Soul of Blades - Chapter 17: The End of a Dungeon
• Soul of Blades - Chapter 18: Overpowered
• Soul of Blades - Chapter 19: An Incursion of Mortals
• Soul of Blades - Chapter 20: A Newer World
• Soul of Blades- Chapter 21: A Peculiar Party
• Soul of Blades - Chapter 22: An Aura of War
• Soul of Blades - Chapter 23: The Challenge
• Soul of Blades - Chapter 24: The Duel
• Soul of Blades - Chapter 25: The Endless Enemy
• Soul of Blades - Chapter 26: The Black Mass
• Soul of Blades - Chapter 27: Four Choices II
• Soul of Blades - Chapter 28 & 29: The Lifeless Executioner / The Lost Berserker

Soul of Blades - Chapter 5: Decoding the System

A few minutes earlier.

Alex Ironwood was tired, exhausted even, but he was calm. His every breath seared through his lungs. Trees towered around him, the verdant canopy filtering sunlight into dappled fragments that lit his path. Unfamiliar calls from unseen creatures played in the background constantly, an eerie harmony of beasts calling to his steps.

His heightened senses caught every sound, every distant creature. A consequence of his new world ‘Pyra’, he supposed.

He shifted his gaze towards his destination, barely visible in the distance. The giant portal of swirling energy beckoned him, shining hints of untold power. The draw was magnetic, irresistible.

Alex walked. he continued his journey through the dense jungle, his eyes remaining fixed on the gargantuan archway and the pulsating portal that awaited him. The canopy of leaves overhead obscured his view, teasing him with fleeting glimpses of the alien- no, the magical spectacle. The anticipation fuelled his steps, his heart lost its calm and began to beat with a mixture of excitement and trepidation.

His mind flashed back to the harrowing confrontation with the horned wolves. He saw their bodies again, remembered their growls, the heat of the battle. He felt the adrenaline rush, the thrill of life and death hanging by a thread. The prospect of survival, of honing his martial art—Kendo—and evolving it into something unimaginable, ignited a fire of determination within him. Battle, even one of life and death, held a sweetness, a concoction of emotions more exhilarating than any championship or competition he had ever experienced. There was a smile on his face. It felt… right.

It wasn't like the championships, the controlled environments, the defined rules. This was different, more real. More pure. It was what the blade had been made for; Life and death. The stakes couldn't be higher.

But he also remembered the pain. The cruel reminder of reality. This was no mere kendo match, and the price for failure was more than a mere loss of honour. It was death, permanent and final.

As he continued his path, an idea sparked in his mind, a plan forming. A log, a jagged stone, a rudimentary sword of sorts. It was crude, yet, it could provide an edge, a means of survival.

Taking a moment, Alex said, "status". And there it was, a screen hovering mid-air, showing him his stats, levels, locked classes and feats. It was straight out of a game, but here, it was life.

In the middle of the air, a glowing screen materialised.

[Name: Alex Ironwood

Level: 3

Race: Human - Rank F

Primary Class: Locked

Sub-class: Locked

Strength: 27 (19)

Dexterity: 27 (19)

Endurance: 25 (18)

Intelligence: 31(22)

Wisdom: 25 (18)

Feats: First Encounter, Pioneer,

Skills:

Dao:

Unassigned stat points: 15]

And there it was. His status, as real as the jungle surrounding him. Alex stared at the translucent screen, a thrill running down his spine. The numbers stood out, seemingly bolstered by his feats. And judging by the numbers, he assumed ten stats was the peak of humanity, if that was so, then he had already gone far beyond that. It was game-like, yet so real.

He contemplated the meaning of each. Endurance, he surmised, probably related to his stamina and recovery, intelligence and wisdom hinting towards magic. The numbers in brackets must have been his base stats, and the boost - a direct result of his feats. That’s it, he thought, feats are the key to power here.

A realization hit him. If he wanted to survive this world, he needed to understand these elements. They were his strengths, his advantages. He recalled the monster battles. Every victory strengthened him, every skill gained made him stronger. It was like levelling up in a video game, only that the stakes were real.

His mind went back to the notifications he’d received after the wolf pack had been defeated;

[You have defeated level 1 Horned Jungle Wolves x3 - additional experience points due to the level difference]

[You have defeated level 2 Horned Jungle Wolves x2 - additional experience points due to the level difference]

[You have defeated level 4 Horned Jungle Wolf Alpha - additional experience points due to the level difference]

[Gained Legendary Feat: "Pioneer" First incursion dungeon kill in inductee world - All stats +5. All stats +20% + 1 Minor healing potion]

[Level 0 > Level 3]

[15 unassigned stats - Speak or think ‘Status’ to allocate pending stats]

It was a hefty gain.

15 stats for 3 levels. That was 5 levels per stat. A 40% increase to his strength stat should be 26.6, but his stat sheet showed 27. That meant the system rounded up stats, a good thing in his opinion. With his feats, he had a total of 103 stats. If you took away what he assumed was the human baseline of 50 stats. Then it meant he had the stats of someone at level 17, and that was before he added the fifteen free stats. He wanted to save them, and put some thought into how they were allocated, but once he added those stats, he would have the stats of someone at level 20. Alex stood still in shock as he made the calculations.

Maybe he wasn’t so screwed after all.

But why did I get the credit for the plant's kills? I only beat one wolf myself… Was it because I contributed by throwing rocks? Or because I used the plant as a trap? Or both? That must’ve meant any experience he received had been reduced or shared between him and the plant. Experience based on damage contribution seemed sensible to him, and likely. Unless there was some sort of ‘killing blow’ bias. He wondered what would happen if he tricked someone into falling off a cliff, would he get experience for that too? And what if he did it in a way where they met their end while he was making an alibi fifty miles away… would he still get the experience? Or would it be greatly diminished? But then again…if nobody else was involved in the act, wouldn’t he just get all of the experience instead of sharing it? There was still the possibility that he wouldn’t get any experience at all if he didn’t directly cause some form of damage to them. Like he’d done with the wolves.

Either way, he couldn’t be sure. He would need to test it the first chance he got.

Alex considered the notifications. He continued to try to glean any scrap of meaning or clue he could, to both his situation and whatever was behind it all. It was his only clue, after all. It was the only form of intelligent communication he had had since he had—well, since he had died.

First, it told him the beasts were called ‘Horned Jungle Wolves.’ They were higher level than he was. If there's a system to identify these creatures and assign levels, then it implies a level of sophistication. Data gathering, analysis. There might be a living entity or entities behind all this. Could be long-dead architects of this twisted system or even a single creator. Alex’s musings were causing him growing concern. As an atheist, he didn't much like the idea of a god. After all, any significantly powerful being would be a god to a caveman. He’d always thought of it as a simple way of viewing the world. Too simple, in fact. But with everything he’d seen so far, he was growing more and more open to the idea. The capabilities of this system were somewhat 'godlike.' It was undeniable. He shuddered to think of an even further intelligence behind it.

Alright, enough of that. He brushed those thoughts aside, right now, they weren't helpful. But what is immediately useful here? There was one piece of information, one hint he had gained from the notifications that was helpful. Very helpful, in fact.

It was the feats. He had gained one for being the first to enter the dungeon. Then another for being the first in the world to kill in a dungeon. Why two separate ones for what's essentially a single achievement? When he thought about it, it seemed redundant. Wouldn't the first to enter also be the first to defeat something in the dungeon?

A lightbulb moment hit him. Unless... dungeons aren't meant to be tackled solo, and I'm not supposed to be alone.These feats would make sense if a team were involved. In a group, the first to enter isn't necessarily the first to make a kill. It made sense. If dungeons were meant to be tackled by teams of people, then in a group of four, or five, or ten, the feats would be shared.

Hell, they’d probably race each other to get them.

But that fact  made one thing abundantly clear: Alex was alone in a hostile environment meant for a team to combat. He was vastly outnumbered, and death lurked around every corner. He gulped, his throat tightening at the thought. There could be no more room for errors, even with his inflated stats. Moving forward, it was likely he’d be constantly outnumbered. He would have to be more cautious.

With a mental nudge, the status screen closed, as he thought back to one of the earliest notifications he’d recieved, it had said: “Your induction to mana will last 365 planetary revolutions before your new imperial masters arrive.”

What did ‘new imperial masters’ mean? Alex clenched his fists, that was a chilling line, and it suggested there would be no negotiation, no freedom. He imagined Earth facing the same countdown, his home possibly undergoing the same transformation. He was resolved. If earth was facing the same countdown, he needed to gain strength before their arrival.

He needed to grow stronger, fast.

Alex's eyes widened. The stats! Of course, he'd gotten stat points when he reached level 3. But in the rush of everything, he'd forgotten to allocate them.

"Status." the holographic screen popped back up. He tried speaking his command, but nothing happened. A mental push later, one point was allocated to strength. [Confirm?] Okay, first trial run. He thought. Let's see what one point does. A brief nod, and a warmth enveloped, originating from his heart and ending at his fingertips. He knew then, somehow, that he was just a little bit stronger.

Now that he knew what he was doing, he allocated 6 points to Strength, 4 points to endurance, and 5 to Intelligence. Bringing them up both up to the thirties. He had 5 free points remaining, and was struggling to decide between dexterity and intelligence.

Intelligence or Dexterity?

Well, speed isn't everything, what if I met something faster than me? What then? I need to be smart about this. Dexterity would increase my speed, sure, but what's the point if I can't process what I'm seeing and reacting to? If my brain can’t keep up? It made sense to him. Ever since he'd woken up in this dungeon, his mind had felt improved. He had felt as if he could grasp everything more clearly. Even as the wolves chased him and the world blurred by, he’d been able to see and react to small details he never would have even seen in his old life. His mind was impossibly sharp, and the feeling had increased with every feat gained. Of all the stats he had, Intelligence seemed the most likely to be responsible.

Although In some ways, Dexterity was better. As a martial artist, he was tempted to focus on his physical stats; strength, dexterity, and endurance. It seemed as though his rebirth and subsequent feats had boosted and evened out his physical capabilities. It was probably why he felt so good ever since he had awoken in this dungeon. But of all of them, dexterity seemed like the one stat that would improve his overall speed; the movements of his limbs. Being able to move twice as fast seemed like an immense advantage, but with low Intelligence, he wouldn't be able to dodge anything too fast for his mind to comprehend. So, while he could move fast with high dexterity, his inability to process the movements of a faster enemy could be his downfall; he would be easily overpowered by any being with much higher stats—higher Strength, Dexterity, and Intelligence.

The first battle with the wolf had driven home the importance of mental speed. With his slowed perception, it had felt like had been able to enter ‘flow state’ at will. Flow state was a mental state of deep concentration athletes of all kinds sometimes experienced. It was a state where time seemed to vanish, enhancing one's performance to unprecedented levels, and allowing them to break records. During that first battle he’d felt as though the ‘Flow state’ had been his playground. He’d been able to instantly adapt, transitioning between styles and inventing blended moves effortlessly. All due to having higher intelligence than he’d ever experienced before. The feeling would probably fade as he grew used to his higher intelligence levels, but it was pretty addictive.

On the other hand, low Dexterity would mean he would potentially be able to see an attack coming but be far too slow to avoid it. It was a tricky choice. Should I pump points into Dexterity instead? Quicker attacks, faster movements...

But there was another benefit to intelligence he’d been considering, it was something that had been on his mind ever since he’d seen his status appear. It could potentially give him a much larger mana pool. There's got to be some resource at play here, for all of the changes… for everything. Mana, energy, whatever it is, could be crucial. And out of all of the stats, it’s either intelligence or wisdom that does it. Maybe even both. He had not seen any evidence of mana, but he had a hunch. The system had left him clues. He’d witnessed a ‘potion’ appearing out of thin air, the first beasts' glowing red eyes, and the largest clue of all; his status's ‘skills’ section. He’d bet on either mana or some form of energy being needed to gain or use skills, and being responsible for the phenomena that allowed these strange events to happen. Not to mention it probably being crucial to making it out of here in one piece. After all, he was alone, and the dungeon was intended for a group, or parties of people with similar levels to the beasts he’d faced and barely survived against. He would need every tool available to him to survive this harsh environment.

So intelligence it was.

He would use power and reaction speed to survive this ordeal. They would be crucial. With conviction he willed his status sheet to pour his 5 free stats into intelligence, bringing strength, endurance and intelligence into the thirties. He’d be strong enough to fight any beast below level twenty, and would not tire easily, he hoped. He felt a warm revitalising strength surge through him at his confirmation, and briefly faltered in his next step. He would have to brace for that next time.

[Strength: 35 (25)

Dexterity: 27 (19)

Endurance: 31 (22)

Intelligence: 38 (27)

Wisdom: 25 (18)

Unassigned stat points: 0]

With that done, Alex felt marginally more secure. But it didn't change the reality that he was alone on this alien island, with nothing but his wits to rely on.

With a new sense of purpose, he continued his journey towards the portal. The archway was now within his sight, looming overhead, a majestic mystery. The swirling energy inside was captivating, mesmerizing, promising power and possibly, the secrets of magic.

His anticipation was high as he approached the portal, the energy around him thrumming with power as his fingers raced the surface of the portal. His heart pounded uncontrollably in excitement, a wild rhythm against the calmness of the jungle.

As he reached out, the energy engulfed his hand, a gentle yet insistent pull that tingled up his arm. Alex felt a barrier beneath the magic, something solid, yet invisible. A notification pinged, another message from the system.

Alex's hand trembled as he prepared to receive the message, his breath caught in his throat. What would the system reveal? His suspense grew, a crescendo of uncertainty. The words hung in the air, and the contents surprised Alex, and filled him with growing concern.

[Quest sub-system granted]

[Access to next floor unavailable; complete quest to proceed to next floor]

Soul of Blades - Chapter 4: Predatory Nature

Alex's heart drummed a rapid beat in his chest as he propelled himself deeper into the forest, each lungful of air feeling like a precious gift. The earth shifted and sprayed underfoot like clay under his swift footsteps. Crunching twigs and leaves marked his frenzied passage.

And blood. A trail of his blood followed his every desperate move.

Clutching his shoulder as he ran, Alex assessed the damage. Blood smeared his fingers, and a large purple bruise had developed around the cut, but his arm still moved—functional but compromised.

The blood had coagulated, mostly, and the bleeding had stemmed. He’d had to hastily use his belt and some torn cloth as a makeshift tourniquet as he ran. He sighed, content in the fact that he wasn’t going to bleed to death, but he was still far from safe.

He leapt over a log, soaring through the air with inhuman athleticism, his features marred with pain and desperate calculation.

Behind him, a horned wolf let out a guttural growl, an aural map of the danger pressing in on him. It lunged, its jaws snapping shut inches from Alex's ankle. Close. Too close. Yet, Alex didn't slow, didn't look back. Fear and adrenaline fused, fuelling his flight.

His ribs ached, a remnant of the vicious swipe he'd taken earlier, but he willed himself to keep pressing forward. His body ached from the injuries sustained during the chase, but he forced it to keep going. Pain was a secondary concern, survival the primary. He could fight one of these things, maybe. But five of them? It was impossible. Alex felt the predator's breath, hot and rancid. He accelerated, clenching his teeth and pushing on.

Every stride jarred his injury-stricken body, setting off flares of pain. But he knew better than to yield. Pain was familiar ground. Adrenaline became his saving grace, the fuel for his survival. He couldn't afford to stop now.

As he sprinted through the vibrant jungle, in his peripheral vision, a swath of blood-red grass caught his attention. It looked foreboding, as if nature itself had been tainted. In the verdant jungle, it stuck out like a warning flag. Hesitant, but unable to end his sprint, he neared the suspicious spot. Curiosity tinged his panic, and his heart beat a staccato as a small squirrel-like creature, plunged from the low-hanging vines above, and landed in the red patch.

Instantly, the red ground erupted in grotesque and monstrous greenery. A monstrous plant emerged from beneath the crimson grass, resembling a grotesque fusion of a Venus flytrap and a mimic creature from the games he once played. Its gaping maw consumed the unsuspecting animal before retreating back into the earth below the red patch, which somehow appeared undisturbed. Thick and sturdy vines dangled above the treacherous ground, tempting fate.

An opportunity. The prospect sparked in Alex's mind, a desperate idea born of necessity. With no time to think, and an urgent need to be resourceful. He took the gamble.

In a burst of energy, Alex sprinted towards the deadly trap. He grimaced, forcing his body into overdrive. His foot pressed into the earth, propelling him into a leap that took him soaring over the perilous patch. Mid-air, he snatched a handful of the sturdy vines, and not just one as he had initially planned. Better safe than sorry, he thought, gripping them tightly as he flew over the deadly patch, using its swing to extend his jump.

His foot almost skimmed the surface of the red patch. It was a hair's breadth away from a bloody end, nearly grazing the void. Yet, he landed safely on the other side, a victorious grin splitting his face.

Chest heaving, he waited on safer ground for the imminent arrival of his pursuers. The dense foliage around him rustled, revealing their approach.

The horned wolves followed him, charging blindly towards the deadly trap. They crashed through the jungle, their snarls filling the air. The first wolf, the alpha- a mottled grey beast much larger than the rest, sprung forward, only to meet its end in the carnivorous plant's mouth.

The second, a sleek black wolf, tried to leap over the red patch but its hind leg brushed the surface. Vines snapped up from beneath, tangling around its ankle, and the beast was yanked back, swallowed whole by the deadly flora.

Several unfortunate beasts met their demise as they fell into the gaping maw of the carnivorous plant concealed beneath the false ground. Others tangled in the thick vines above, their desperate attempts to leap higher only sealing their fates.

One wolf, its fur glistening white, evaded the deadly trap. It made the leap. Its eyes locked onto Alex, and the battle between them was inevitable.

A smirk tugged at Alex's lips. He was ready for a one-on-one showdown.

Alex met the wolf's charge, side-stepping its lunge. The wolf swung around, snapping at him, but Alex had already retreated, avoiding the deadly bite.

A wolf's vicious onslaught. Alex, the graceful, seasoned practitioner. Evade. Move. Strike. The wolf lunged, jaws closing on empty air.

Alex’s fist rocketed forward, powered by his twisting legs and hips, smashing into the wolf's thick fur. A grunt of surprise escaped the beast.

This one’s somehow… weaker than the first? His fist stung, but it no longer felt like hitting chainmail. No, this was the familiar feeling of striking flesh. Tougher than any flesh he had ever felt before, but it still yielded under his blows.

Feet planted firmly, he launched a powerful kick, his foot connecting with the wolf's flank and harnessing the beast's momentum to catapult it skyward. The beast yelped, soaring into the air, its claws shredding vines in desperation before it came crashing to the ground head first.

Now was the time to strike. Alex didn't waste a beat. Before it could recover, He was upon it, landing a succession of blows. His fist connected with its muzzle, a kick drove it back. His feet dug into the earth as he launched himself towards the creature. Fist met fur, bone met bone, and for a moment, it was as if two forces of nature had collided. He felt it then, the breaking point, a momentary give in the wolf's skeletal structure.

But he didn’t stop.

He couldn’t let up. Standing this close to the creature, all it would take would be a swing of its head, and a swipe from the jagged horn that could split stone in two would be the end of him. As if reading his thoughts, the wolf twisted, its horn aimed for Alex's gut.

His elbow drove its head into the ground, diverting the attack.

Blow after blow, he drove the beast to submission, reducing the fearsome predator to a helpless mass. The sound of bone crunching and flesh tearing echoed through the forest as his attacks landed with devastating force. The wolf's struggles ceased, its body lying motionless on the jungle floor.

With the immediate threat dealt with, Alex wasted no time, redirecting his attention to the remaining wolves entangled in the vines above the deadly red patch. One was suspended, entangled in the vines. He launched a branch at it, striking it square on the chest. Startled, it slashed wildly, severing its lifeline and falling into the plant's gaping maw.

He continued to aggravate the remaining wolves ensnared in the vines.

Grabbing rocks and thick branches, he hurled them with unerring accuracy, shattering the precarious balance the wolves had managed to maintain. Their fierce struggles to break free only resulted in them cutting the vines that held them aloft. They thrashed about frantically, disrupting their precarious suspension. Their ferocious bites and swipes were futile as they slashed wildly, their claws and sharp horns severing the vines that held them captive, cutting through their lifelines. One by one, they plummeted into the waiting maw of the carnivorous plant, disappearing into its fleshy depths.

As silence fell over the scene, Alex assessed his wounds. Blood trickled from cuts and bruises, a grim sign of the fight's intensity. Exhausted and battered, his breathing was ragged, muscles trembling from exertion.

A notification flickered into existence.

[You have defeated level 1 Horned Jungle Wolves x3 - additional experience points due to the level difference]

[You have defeated level 2 Horned Jungle Wolves x2 - additional experience points due to the level difference]

[You have defeated level 9 Horned Jungle Wolf Alpha - additional experience points due to the level difference]

[Gained Legendary Feat: "Pioneer" First incursion dungeon kill in inductee world - All stats +5. All stats +20% + 3 Healing potions]

The weight of this legendary feat settled upon him, its significance igniting a spark of pride deep within his soul. It felt like a trophy, a consolation prize in place of becoming the world kendo champion. But he smiled as he thought of how much better this was than any gold plated plaque back home.

In a flash of light, three small red vials materialised, suspended in mid-air before gracefully descending into Alex's outstretched palm.

[Level 0 > Level 3]

[15 unassigned stats - Speak or think ‘Status’ to allocate pending stats]

Yet another notification marked his ascent to Level 3, with an extra fifteen unassigned stats. How much stronger could that make him? He merely had to speak or think 'Status' to put them to use. But for now, he needed healing.

In the aftermath, he uncorked the healing potion, its liquid warmth coursing through him, mending his wounds. The pain subsided, replaced by a soothing warmth that revitalised his weary form. With renewed vigor, he stood amidst the aftermath of his battle, a solitary figure.

Alex cast a wary gaze at the eerily still patch of red grass and observed. It was hard for him to believe that a deadly creature of some sort hid beneath it.

Without the presence of this… plant, he would have surely died. He peered at the patch of red grass. Its leaves swayed softly and deceptively serenely in the wind.

It looks harmless… Quite the actor, aren't you? he thought, squinting as his close inspection caused him to realise something; the leaves weren't naturally red. Blood, thick and dried painted it. Endless layers of both dried and fresh blood covered the grass and soaked deep into the earth, permanently altering its hue. Is that a lure? It must use the scent of blood to attract hunters and scavengers… just like a fly trap.

Alex walked back to the corpse of the final wolf he had defeated with his own hands. He studied it. The light in its eyes had long since faded, and its fangs were monstrous, each one as long as his- no, longer than his hands.

The beast was gigantic.

He stared at the beasts horn, a weapon it used to cleave rocks in two. Alex's eyes darted between the wolf and the lethal patch of ground. An idea beginning to form.

With a grunt, he bent his knees to a squat, gripped the wolf's hind leg, and braced himself. He was preparing to lift the corpse of the massive wolf more than twice his size. On Earth, it would’ve been impossible, but with his increase in strength perhaps he could drag it somehow?

He almost stumbled when the wolf rose as he lifted. It was heavy, but not as heavy as he had expected. Or was he just stronger now? Much stronger than what should have been possible?

Muscles straining, he dragged the horse-sized wolf over to the red patch of grass and halted at the edge of the patch, observing the plant life there.

Nothing. If it wasn’t for the colour and the metallic scent of blood in the air, it would be just another harmless patch of grass. Alex hoisted a portion of the wolf onto the red patch.

Vines erupted from the ground, tendrils, thick and covered in thorny protrusions. They slithered like serpents, wrapping around the wolf's corpse. One by one, they plunged into the wolf's flesh. More tendrils emerged, pulling the creature apart like a grotesque feast. At the core of the patch, the jaws of something resembling a Venus flytrap seemlessly parted the earth and widened.

Fascinated and repulsed, Alex watched as the tendrils coiled around the wolf's body, pulling it further into the maw. The maw snapped shut with a guttural crunch as vines seeped through fur, muscle, and eventually, bone. It snapped and crunched, engulfed portions of the wolf. There were crunching sounds, almost mechanical, as the bones were crushed. The plant seemed to liquefy its prey, leaving nothing solid behind.

The tendrils worked with methodical efficiency, drawing the wolf into the maw in sections as Alex continued to feed it. Slowly, piece by piece as the remains of the wolf dwindled.

"Good boy," Alex found himself saying to the plant as he studied it while it fed, seemingly oblivious to his presence.

It was a strange monster, a mix of plants, snake-like vines, and Venus flytrap. Although it was mostly made up of just vines, and a mouth that seemed to stretch and contract at will. It sort of reminded him of something he had seen back on Earth, but he couldn't quite place his finger on what. The creature made quick work of what remained of the wolf, shredding it into unrecognizable bits until nothing was left.

Finally, only the skull of the wolf remained. He’d held on to the horn and yanked as vines as the plant began to crush its base. The skull stared up at him with hollow eyes, and Jutting out from the base of its forehead was a bladed horn as long as his arm, jagged and fierce.

He examined the bladed horn. It wasn’t quite usable, still being attached to the massive head and skull of the beast. If he could remove it somehow from the horn, or maybe even find a way to shave down the skull? He’d have a pretty effective sword- one that could cut through stone.

His mind turned to those unaccounted for - where were the others from earth? Was no-one else from Earth reincarnated? The earlier notification had said he was the first to enter the jungle. Alone, he took a step, then another.

Alex pressed forward, continuing in the general direction of the looming stone portal. The urgency in his heart propelled him forward, for there were still mysteries to unravel and challenges yet to be faced. With every step, he moved closer to finding answers.

The stone portal loomed in the distance, a gateway to untold adventures and perils. Step by step, he forged ahead, eager to embrace his destiny in the unknown realm of Pyra.

And as he walked, a thought occurred to him.

“Status”

Soul of Blades - Chapter 3: Alive

The sky split. A thunderous roar filled the air. The pack was on the move, like a river of teeth and fur.

Then came the leader.

Bigger than the rest, towering over him, with a horn sharper than any blade, it moved with deadly precision. A predator born and bred. Its eyes - wild and hungry, fixed on Alex with a clear message.

Prey.

Stumbling on a tree root, Alex crashed to the ground. The ground seemed to quake beneath him. The cacophony of growls and snarls grew louder. His heart pounded like a drum, matching the rhythm of the impending doom.

A wince. A hesitation. The leader, bigger and meaner, charged.

The leader lunged at him.

Alex, in a desperate flurry, scrambled to his feet and rolled aside. He heard the swoosh of the wolf's horn slashing through the air where he had been a heartbeat before. His heart pounded in his ears.

A tree fell, bisected.

Back on his feet. His body screamed, protesting at the sudden strain. But he had no time for pain.

He dodged again.

And again.

He was a flash of movement in the wilderness, his body responding on instinct, adrenaline fuelling his every move.

Then, he struck.

With a swift pivot, Alex spun on his heel, slamming his foot into the leader's side. The wolf howled, skidding and crashing through the underbrush. Alex seized the opportunity, his eyes fixed on the strange, enticing portal in the distance.

Flight. It was the only option.

He launched into a sprint, his muscles aching, his breath ragged. He could hear the wolves on his trail, their snarls growing closer.

They were gaining on him.

Heart pounding, legs burning, he plunged into the dense jungle, weaving between trees, ducking beneath vines and leaping over fallen logs. The portal was in sight now, glowing ominously in the heart of the jungle, peeking between the distant trees.

His world was a blur of greens and browns. The only sound - his desperate breaths and the wolves' frenzied pursuit. The jungle echoed their vicious growls.

His destination was far ahead, but a dense section filled with hanging vines was near. He could hide there.

Then, he was at the edge. The wolves were seconds behind him. One final push.

A leap of faith.

He threw himself into the vines, his world becoming a swirl of green blurs as he swung forward, landing on the ground. He could still hear the wolves' frustrated howls. They raced beneath to reach him. He had done it. He had bought time.

But soon, they would be upon him.

Alex turned, and resumed his sprint, with the sounds of predators around him.

In this new world, the future was uncertain. But he knew one thing for sure, and it guided each frantic step after the other.

He was alive.

For now.

Soul of Blades - Chapter 2: Error 404: Earth not found

[Planet X-1234598 Integration Complete]

[Planet X-1234598 Designation “Earth” - Rank F]

[Welcome to the Multiverse]

[Initiating System in…]

[3…2…1…]

[Error - Inductee 6,000,000,042 Soul in Stasis during first contact]

[Attempting to revive form - Failure - Protocol ‘Inductee-recycle: welcome message’ initiated]

[Recycling soul…]

[Attempting reincarnation to Multiverse Planet X-1234598 Designation “Earth”…Success]

[Error - e̴̟̓́͝n̶̡̮͋̕͝o̷̟̮̙͚̔l̸̢͉̗̣̑͐͛à̸̺̥̮͒ͅ ̶̯͇̈́̈͛o̷̻̽̋̕g̶̢̅̓͛͝ ̷͎̠̠̖̿́o̶̼̲͋͐͋͂ͅt̶̢̻͉́̕͜ ̷̳̮̏̄͝͠s̵̞̈́͆̓̓ṷ̷̭̓͆͛̋ǒ̴̗͎̪r̵͇͓͑́g̸̟͛̍̕ reincar ̸̺̟͈͌ň̷̢̨̄á̷̮͇͍͝͝d̶̺̆͜͠s̸̡̽̚͠'̵̢̟͖̞̀͆t̸͇̾̃̌̕i̶̧̹̽̈́̋̚ ̷̱̑̽̂̚s̷̯̲̅͐͜͝i̶̻̅̔͋ͅh̸̨̬͙̓t̶̢͎̖̦͊͂ ̶̨̺̏͂e̸̪̟͇͕͂k̷̞͎̳̳̋ǎ̴̂͗̅ͅt̶̙̺͎̺͑̌.̷̯͍̩̹̋̍̅ ̸̭̃͒͠͝ ̴̧̛̺̠̞̌̈̚]

…

[Reincarnation protocol ‘inductee-recycle’ success!]

[Planet X-1234599 Integration Complete]

[Planet X-1234599 Designation “Pyra”- Rank E]

[Welcome to the Multiverse]

Alex was in the dark, but not the scary kind. More like floating in a warm, endless pool, but without water. He floated while stuck in nothing but the dark, drifting across an ocean of blackness, his mind hugged tight by a peaceful kind of nothingness.

Alex’s head throbbed in protest, struggling to process the cryptic message that had materialized before his eyes. What did it mean? a world labeled as "Pyra,"? The words taunted him, concealing more questions than answers.

Despite his recent experiences, a sense of tranquility swept over him. Could this be what death feels like? He contemplated. It's surprisingly serene. I can even sense the grass beneath me, a breeze brushing against my skin, and the murmur of a nearby stream- Wait a minute.

His eyes shot open, and the truth of his circumstances unfolded before him.

He felt like he'd just had the best sleep of his life. No aches, no fatigue. His body felt like a coiled spring, ready to unleash. He clenched and unclenched his fists, feeling the muscles in his arms respond with eagerness. The sensation made him wonder, was this how it felt to be completely, utterly well?

He sat up with an energy he hadn't felt in years. As Alex pushed himself up from the ground, a wave of dizziness washed over him. Blinking away the haze of unconsciousness, he found himself in an unfamiliar place, and he instinctively scanned his surroundings, trying to make sense of his new reality.

His gaze swept the strange scene. A meadow stretched endlessly, bursting with colors so vivid they almost stung his eyes. Nearby, a stream cut through the landscape, its crystal clear waters sparkling like polished gemstones. Further away, a cliff stood tall, its base drowning in a thick jungle. The world was bright as if it was the middle of summer, without a cloud in sight. A clear, eerily blue sky stretched wide above him.

but the lack of other landscapes on the horizon was disturbing. At first glance, It felt like he was on a secluded island, isolated from the rest of the world. Or a large country of some sort, or even an archipelago. Until he reached higher ground, there would be no way to know for sure.

Yet, there were four profoundly unsettling aspects that caught his attention.

First, despite the absence of a sun in the sky, a vibrant light bathed the landscape, casting a surreal glow over everything. The clear, blue vista above seemed to defy natural laws, creating an mystical atmosphere that both fascinated and disturbed him. But where was the sun? The world was lit, but not a single sunbeam in sight.

It was as if the sky was one big light bulb.

Second, his eyes were drawn to a massive stone archway peeking above the treetops. It soared to the height of a five-story building, decorated with cryptic symbols and twinkling lights. It emitted an air of mystery and power, tempting him to unravel its secrets.

Third, his own body, which felt like a machine fine-tuned to perfection. He flexed his arms and legs, relishing the absence of any stiffness. It was as if his body had been waiting for this moment, ready to make the most of this new state of being.

Lastly, the most disturbing sight was the colossal portal within the stone archway. Swirling with a foreign fusion of energies, it pulsed and throbbed, radiating strange and hypnotic colors into the surrounding air. The sheer magnitude of this portal stirred a mix of awe and trepidation within Alex, leaving him with a persistent sense of foreboding.

For a fleeting moment, he wondered if he had entered the realm of the afterlife. But the sights before him and the words etched in his mind's eye told him otherwise—he had been "reincarnated."

[Gained Legendary Feat: "First Encounter" First to enter incursion dungeon in inductee world - All stats + 10. All stats +20%.]

[Broadcast - Tier #3: Welcome to the Multiverse, Planet X-1234599 Designation “Pyra”. Your world, and several others have been chosen in the latest batch of worlds to join the Empire. Rejoice! Your induction to mana will last 365 planetary revolutionss before your new imperial masters arrive. Gain strength and serve us well.]

Alex staggered from the overload of information. Chosen to join some empire?... He struggled to parse meaning from the words. As he rose, he noticed an odd sensation in his body. It felt like his limbs were elongated, and he felt a dull ache all over. Suddenly, a resounding thump echoed in his mind, and he reflexively gripped his head, trying to ease the pain.

The thump turned into a sharp jab, flashing through his brain, as if someone had flicked his forehead with supernatural strength, the sensation spread throughout his body. It was gone as fast as it came, leaving him feeling out of breath but somehow sharper, like he'd downed a shot of pure adrenaline.

What's happening to me? he wondered, feeling overwhelmed by the sudden onslaught of sensory information. The grass beneath his feet, the sound of the babbling brook, the scent of the earth all felt suddenly more vivid. It felt as though his senses had been heightened, akin to the sensation of emerging from water.

It was as if his senses had been submerged his whole life, and he hadn’t even known it.

[It is advised to brace yourself or be seated during the first stat boost.]

“You couldn’t have told me that a second ago?” Alex muttered in frustration.

He felt weightless, as if he were lighter than a feather, and strong too. He stomped into the ground and was surprised to see his foot sink inches into the grassy earth. The earth yielded like it was made of foam, his boot sinking in with only the slightest resistance.

How high could he jump now? Was this the effect of the feat?

Tearing his gaze away from the portal, Alex turned to the vast expanse of the jungle. The lush canopy overhead seemed to conceal more mysteries, a tapestry of shadows and secrets.

The landscape abruptly ended at a cliff, a vast ocean stretching out beyond. He was in a country, a peninsula or maybe even an archipelago or island of some sort, he realized. A  shred of frustration threading through him. He wouldn’t know for sure until he reached higher ground. He needed to find a way back to civilisation.

"So I'm stuck here, in the middle of nowhere..." he sighed, turning back towards the stone portal, his mind a whirlwind of plans, hopes, and concerns.

His eyes darted to the jungle, a dark wall of unknowns. Then to the cliff, which offered a vantage point of sorts but also no food, safety or isolation. He surveyed the few, grim options he had available to him. He could head towards that cliff, or venture into the jungle's unknown. Neither option was inviting. His eyes then fell on the mountain in the distance. Higher ground. It could offer him a wider perspective of the island. But that was a problem for later.

While he stood there, attempting to decipher the strange landscape, a deafening roar shattered the silence, causing the trees to shudder. The sound snapped him out of his reverie. The surrounding foliage quivered and rustled as countless unfamiliar birds took flight.

At the sound, his hand went to his waist, searching for the reassuring weight of his sword strap. Nothing. He patted down his sides, and his back, hoping to find his bag of wooden practice blades. Also nothing. A cold sweat broke out on his forehead.

He was alone, in an unfamiliar land, and if that message was to be believed, an unfamiliar world.

So what could possibly have made that noise?

The roar sounded again, closer this time. The trees shook. Alex's eyes darted from one shadowy nook to another, searching for the source of this menacing roar. Was it a lurking predator, ready to pounce? Or something far more sinister? And how large would it have to be to make a sound like that?

An explosion resounded in the distance, prompting him to swiftly pivot and witness something barrelling towards the stream from the treeline, rapidly closing the gap to his location.

He hastily took cover behind a nearby boulder to observe as the interloper arrived and lowered its head to lap water from the stream.

In front of him was a wierd and grotesque… horse? No- a wolf. A large wolf the size of a horse, almost as tall as he was and twice as long, with a large horn jutting out of its forehead. The horned wolf—its fur a patchwork of grey and black—approached, eyes glowing an eerie yellow. It sniffed the air.

Alex blinked and rubbed his eyes, yet nothing changed. The peculiar horned wolf remained in plain sight. It’s muscles rippled with every movement.

It was massive.

He glanced at the freakish wolf. It ran about, the booming sounds of its strut causing the growing knot in Alex’s stomach to tighten. He knew that back on earth, regular wolves were already pretty huge, coming up to about half his height. But this creature had taken it even further, he was sure he’d have to raise his eyes slightly to meet its gaze. The same as he would with a horse. It’s back was turned to Alex, seemingly oblivious to his presence. Should he attack it now? No that’s suicidal, he thought. Don’t they have stronger noses than dogs… maybe it’ll sense me eventually? But how should I attack, and when? While it's distracted? Or should I sneak away? With his title and newfound strength, he reasoned that this may be his only chance to get the upper hand.

But how would he beat a horse sized animal with his bare hands? He pressed his feet into the earth, and felt it shift under his movements with ease.

If the hardened earth felt like putty, then maybe the beast would too.

He decided to attack it. If only i had a sword he internally sighed with regret. He would have to make do and kill it somehow.

He was sure that was what you were supposed to do in dungeons. He had only ever played a game like that almost three decades ago, once or twice on a childhood friend's console. Growing up he’d always been training for the next tournament. He’d rarely had the time to join his friends outside of school, college and sports. Despite this, he was pretty sure there were no ‘good’ monsters in a dungeon.

Right?

As Alex was pondering on the nature of dungeons. He observed the animal in front of him. It was larger than any wolf he had ever seen, larger than a motorbike. Its body was thick and muscular, standing at a height just below his chest. And a large horn was jutting out of its head. The horn reminded him a little of a Rhino. It looked… sharp, dangerously so.

The wolf suddenly turned in his direction.

As the strange horned wolf turned to face him, he paused in anticipation. They locked eyes, and In that split second, nothing inside the dungeon moved. Alex was still tense, wondering what it would do next.

The wolf leaped towards him, a small patch of grass flying into the air behind it. Its horn was aimed right at his neck, seemingly intent on piercing him.

Alex's eyes narrowed, tracking the wolf's every twitch, every minute shift in weight. The beast was a blur of fur and muscle, but Alex felt like he was seeing each frame in slowed motion.

But not slow enough.

Reacting swiftly, Alex sidestepped, swaying back. His spine arched as he desperately dodged, avoiding the horn by mere inches. He jabbed forward on instinct, aiming to hit the soft tissue beneath the wolf's eye. But he was off balance, never having experienced fighting something so large before.

He missed.

His fist impacted the rock, a small crack and indent spreading where it landed. Alex would’ve paused in shock if it wasn’t for the fact that he was battling for his life.

How had he done that?

The wolf sailed past him, and he felt a rush of wind as it whizzed by and landed, before turning to face him with a low snarl reverberating in its throat. It was so large that it’s rumbling snarl shook the grass beneath its feet.

Alex, in the meantime, marveled at his own reflexes. He’d never moved that fast before; he wasn't even sure it was possible to move that fast.

What were those words? Stats? Multiverse? What did it do to him? And what the hell was ‘Pyra’? And that strange error message… It sounded like he’d been reincarnated into another planet… was that a mistake?

He was pulled away from his thoughts as the wolf turned and swiped with claws the size of hands, knives that could tear him to ribbons.

Alex felt his training both aiding and betraying him as he dodged. The fundamentals were there—timing, distance, balance—but every application was slightly… wrong. The beast's biology rejected the rules he knew; no obvious solar plexus to strike, and a temple and jaw protected by razor sharp canines.

Alex pivoted, angling his body in a way that would allow him to evade and avoid being torn to pieces. The beast staggered as it landed-off balance- but didn't fall. It seemed unphased.

For a heartbeat, Alex felt the weight of his years in the ring and the dojo, the countless hours of repetition and muscle memory. It was both an asset and a burden now, every instinct honed for a different kind of fight. But the essence of combat was universal, he just needed to adapt; to innovate.

He swallowed his concerns as the wolf leapt again. On its second lunge, its horn aimed directly at Alex's heart.

In a split second, Alex pivoted, his foot sinking into the dirt, grounding him. His fist snapped forward, targeting the wolf's exposed side. Knuckles met flesh with a satisfying crunch, his hips twisted to drive the blow further, leaving a spray of dirt where his feet had been. yet the wolf's fur felt like chainmail.

His fist stung on contact, bruised. What the- how is it so tough?! Alex's thought as his other fist clenched mid-swing for a second blow; he twisted as the blow connected and drove his elbow into the wolf's lower jaw.

It struck true, although it barely seemed to phase the wolf. But this time, it didn’t hurt Alex either. He used a merge, a shift from Boxing to Muay Thai. A transition between styles used to create something new. It was a calculated move, something he’d practiced his whole life. To him, something like that felt like breathing.

But still, the wolf seemed unphased. It twisted and snapped its jaw and Alex frantically scrambled away as his vision of the world became filled with large canines and death. All thoughts of technique were abandoned as the wolf's horn swept past Alex's face, close enough to feel its serrated edge scorch his cheek. A hot stinging sensation spread on his face and shoulder as he stumbled to the ground and twisted in a desperate roll to his feet.

The wolf's jaws snapped shut where his neck had been a moment before.

The wolf's jagged horn continued its wild descent, cleaving the rock in two as Alex desperately scrambled to his feet, his eyes widening at the sight of the boulder's destruction. His cheek burned, his shoulder ached. His nose caught the metallic scent of blood. His own. He glanced at his shoulder, where a gash was  oozing crimson, and he felt a wet sensation across his cheek as more blood flowed from a second shallow scrape by the wolf's horn. The blood coalesced and trickled down his arm, warm and unsettling. That was concerning. He flexed his fingers and arm experimentally and sighed with relief as they responded.

A guttural growl erupted from the beast, vibrating the air around them. Its eyes, molten red, almost glowing, locked onto him as if viewing particularly wily prey.

And Alex, for the first time in his life, found himself facing a challenge- a true challenge; facing off against something he couldn’t quite beat.

A grin began to spread across his face as he took the alien sensation.

Alex charged.

And the wolf followed suit. Without missing a beat, Alex took advantage of the wolf's momentum. He launched a precise sidekick, connecting with the creature's body as it lunged. It felt like kicking a log of wood, but the impact sent the wolf flying through the air and crashing into the nearby stream. Water splashed everywhere as the wolf struggled to regain its footing. He stared at his extended leg, the vibrations of the kick still tingling in his muscles, his eyes widening as if trying to absorb the reality before him.

Alex was panting as he lowered his leg and stood with his gaze fixed, on the drenched beast struggling to rise from the water. His limbs felt like they were vibrating, tingling with an energy that was both foreign and intimately familiar. His leg still trembled, not from exhaustion but from sheer disbelief at the force he'd just unleashed. His leg had done that? A kick had sent a creature of that size flying? He couldn’t believe it. It must’ve flown ten feet from that kick. He thought in muted surprise.

Alex stood there, chest heaving, staring at the ripple where the beast had landed. A surge of something primal and exhilarating coursed through him. For the first time, he felt truly alive, as if every cell in his body were singing. This was  not the controlled environment of a training mat or a ring, or even a dark street where a successful ambush would result in a trip to the hospital at worst. This was different. This was life and death, where a single blow could define fate, and where a single mistake could spell one’s end. This— was raw, brutal, untamed combat.

A thought occurred to him in that split-second; what would it have been like if he’d had a sword?

The boundaries of his lifetime of training and fights had been redrawn, stretched by necessity and adrenaline. This battle, a clash so far removed from any ring or mat, had demanded the sum of his years of training—then asked for something more.

The wolf shook its massive head, water droplets flying off its fur, each one catching the scant light in a prism of colors.

Alex was not worried or concerned by the wolf's actions; instead, he was filled with shock and curiosity. And awe. He had barely survived that fight.

A cacophony of sound erupted as five more wolves the size of horses burst out of the treeline, all headed towards him.

It was a pack.

He surveyed his surroundings one final time, his gaze lingering on the towering cliff, gargantuan portal, and the dense jungle beyond as the wolf he’d struck struggled to regain its footing. Every detail mattered, every choice had consequences.

The shocking sight of the monstrous wolves had driven home a fact that he couldn’t deny.

This wasn’t earth, and he wasn’t dead.

With resolve in his heart, Alex set forth in a sprint, his gaze now unwaveringly fixed upon the towering stone archway and the mesmerising energies that beckoned him as he sped towards its direction, with a pack of oversized horned wolves at his heel.

Well. Alex thought, his heart pounding as he sprinted, each beat leaving a trail of blood for the wolves to follow.

Shi-